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cheseyre · 4 years

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good news, sluts! my brain's no longer being completely stupid (only mostly), i've seen the new asides and...have some thought-y thot thoughts:

*deep inhale*

Okay, first things first: this art style is soooo fucking cUTE and I'm a jealous, squealing bitch. Anyone who knows who the artist is, could you link me to them, stat? I think Thomas mentioned them at the beginning of the ep, but nYeh, brain hurt, doesn't wanna do wooork-

Okay, I'll admit, I was a little...apprehensive when I first saw the thumbnail and title. Part of it's just me being a bitter Remus Stan, but also...okay, deep breaths, controversial opinion time, get ready:

I don't ship Prinxiety.

Like, at all.

I can see the appeal, and these dorks were so very, VERY cute in this particular ep, but I was honestly turned off by the ship long ago due to how overwhelmingly popular it is and how some fans characterize these two and treat this relationship as if it's the only valid one, y'know, the works—slight tangent, but that's also why I don't ship Logicality or Remile. I honestly vibe much better with ships like Roceit or Analogical, y'know?

Cutting in for another brief tangent: I'm surprisingly okay with Demus/Dukeceit/Receit/Trashnoodle/Whatever-Their-Ship-Name-Is-Oh-God-Why-Do-They-Have-So-Many-Fucking-Names; maybe it's cause they haven't actually interacted in canon and the fan content gives me such good Gay Disney Villain content, idk man im weird—).

Still, their interactions were both hilarious and sweet and like I said, I see the appeal, it's just not my cup of tea. y'all Prinxiety fans got fucking FED and I'm happy for you nerds. Enjoy ze happy boys!

I guess another factor in my...low-key hesitance when I first saw what the ep was about is that...okay, get ready, another controversial opinion, le gasp: well, I'm not a big Virgil fan. In fact, at times, he swaps places with Patton as my least favorite sides—especially with some of his recent behavior in eps like DWIT (the "prohibit your breathing comment" really triggered me, for example). Sometimes, his attitude, especially around other sides like Roman or Janus, reminds me a little too much of my sister, who I don't have...a very good relationship with. Add to that how the more...intense side of the fandom has a disturbing tendency to turn him into the 'uwu precious woobie emo baby who can do no wrong' while unnecessarily villainizing other CERTAIN sides in the process, and...I think you all see where I'm going with this little rant 😅

However, upon actually watching the ep, he wasn't...that bad? I don't think? I enjoyed watching him be a flustered, disaster-y mess and genuinely excited at the end, his interactions with Roman were nice enough, and him literally pushing Thomas to make a move with Nico despite his obvious panic attack was a nice moment of genuine character development. I like seeing that, that's the good shit right there. And him being all flustered and shit, and smiling so much at the end of the vid was just...well, adorable. This man has no fucking right to be this cute, my god

alsoooo

pURPLE EYESHADOW

PURPLE EYESHADOW HE LOOKS?? SO GOOD?? WTF?? SLAY EMO, SLAAAAAAAY FUCK, DOES THIS MEAN I HAVE TO CHANGE MY HALLOWEEN COSTUME NOW?

alsoooo

hAPPY ROMAN

YESSSSS~ MAH BOI MAH SON MAH DUMB BITCH HIMBO PRINCE MAH EXTRA MESSY CINNAMON ROLL

ITS BEEN SO LONG

AND HIS LITTLE HEART EYES THROUGHOUT THE VID, OH MY GOD-

IMMA JUST IGNORE THAT "ADDING [MISTAKE] TO THE LIST" COMMENT I AM LOOKING AWAY I DO NOT SEE IT LALALALALA

THOMATHY, SIR, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT MAKING THESE TWO GAY IDIOTS SO BAEBY

Okay, but Virgil not realizing that "cyberstalking in real life" is literally just stalking is both a big ass mood and further proof that, yes, Logan is indeed the only one holding the braincell out of this disaster of a lot. God help them all if he ducks out in the next ep.

👀

And Thomas x Trash Can is my new OTP. I dub thee ✨ "Trashmas" ✨

we sTAN TRASHMAS

Wait, does that mean Remus actually WAS in the ep? Cause, y'know, trash man?

hmmm

👀 👀

Okay, okay.

With how much Virgil and Roman were going off about Thomas constantly lying, I was (understandably) a tad bit disappointed my snek son didn't even make a fucking cameo, but y'know what? In hindsight, I'm okay with this it's fineee~

He was just off playing with shadow puppets and stealing money from us desperate, content-starved peasants with his sheer extra-ness and, honestly? Gotta respect the hustle.

Get that precious, precious coin, dapper snake! Wring us poor losers dryyyy!

*evil snek laugh*

Also, this is a breather ep and adding Janus in probably would've caused unnecessary drama with the Roceit breakup and the constant antagonism between Virgil and him. It probably would've distracted from the point of the ep (flirting with social anxiety, exactly what it says in the tin)—much like it wasn't really Virgil or Remus's place to show up during POF. Does that make sense? I think it makes sense. Sorry, brain going brr-

Still, I can't believe the "Fuck Janus Sanders" Club is actually canon now 😂

God, first Patton in a skirt and now this.

Thomas Sanders, you delight in fucking feEDING this gremlin nest of a fanbase, don’t you? You RELISH our screams of joy and pain and suffering, dON’T YOU?

What's next, actual canonical Janus and Remus interaction? Patton saying the fuck word? The Dragon Witch comes back? Janus's bowler hat gains sentience and takes over the world, Doris-style? What do you have planned, Thomas? Joan? WHAT ART THOU PLANNING, I MUST KNOW YOU HEATHENS YOU FIENDS-

And Virgil's little "would it be fair to him" comment, tho.

👀

Like, I get in the context of the ep, he was likely talking about Nico and how it wouldn’t be good for a potential relationship with Tomas to be founded on lies, but still...my anxceit heart aches, man.

Gimme that sweet, sweet angst with a side of mutual regret and possible future reconciliation and maybe something more wink wink nudge nudge on top, pls

...and fries.

Honestly, tho, that entire bathroom monologue was fucking beautiful, man. And relatable, too—i can't tell you how many times I've talked to myself in public restrooms because I just didn't know how to get the words I wanted to say out. It's...kind of embarrassing, tbh

Speaking of embarrassing, uh, crying stall guy.

Just...

Crying Stall Guy

Like, I was expecting someone to come out the bathroom stall after Thomas stopped talking, but...I honestly wasn't expecting that. God, that whole scene was so cringe worthy and fucking hilarious

Honestly, Thomas in the ep in general was a huge ass mOOD and we collective gay/bi disasters ALL related with him, and if you say you don't, you're either lying to yourself or a demon.

There is no in between

sorry I don't make the rules

Like, I get this series is literally a gay disaster talking to himself for thirty minutes or longer, but like- EMPHASIS on the 'disaster' part 😂

Like...Thomas, you're lucky you're such a goddamn bean, because GOD, I cringing so hard when he first started talking to Nico

Although, I too have apologized profusely for genuine mistakes and am a flustered bi mess around my crush sooo

😅

And god, Roman's "thirty = old man" jokes made me feel old...and I literally just turned twenty, like, come on, man!

Maybe that's because I was literally watching this ep after finishing my ACT and had been sitting with a bunch of high schoolers, with their tiny fucking desks and tiny fucking water fountains smeh

*clears throat*

Anyways, uh, we STAN Nico Pintrovert Florés in this house

He gives me such big Carlos from WTNV vibes for some reason and this makes me sooo happy

and YESS, he's a WRITER

And he's??? So sweet?? A pure bean?? Just sits on his laptop at the mall food court all day, like a god-fucking iCON?? A Nightmare Before Christmas fan?? weARS GLASSES??

my hEART

*cries*

The fandom seems torn between "Nicomas" and "Karrot Kings" as a ship name atm—personally speaking, I'm casting my vote for the latter

*crosses fingers* please dont be another janus x remus multiple ship name issue guys, please please please I can't keep track of them all-

*clears throat*

On that note, I'm guess I'm gonna go try and whoo over my crush with carrots now. If THIS disaster can do it and make it actually fucking work, god damnit, so cAN I

Meanwhile, in hell, my brain's just screaming "CANON LOVE INTEREST CANON LOVE INTEREST CANON LOVE INTEREST-"

God, I hope Nico isn't just a one-shot character, he's too pure and Thomas and him are adorable gay Disney fans and I stan

Oh, I wonder how the other sides'll react to him.

Wait.

Oh god.

This ep just unleashed a new fresh hell of potential Nico x Sides ships, hasn't it?

Welp, time to prepare for ze incoming flood of fanfics, I guess. I'll get my umbrella and rain boots.

That last shot of Virgil during the endcard was so fucking ominous oh my god mom im scared can you come pick me up-

Goddammit, Thomas and Joan, I'm NOT fucking ready to be traumatized again, fUCK

I wish I wasn't a broke ass university student so I could contribute to Thomas's gloriously extra Patreon—both so I can support my favorite content creators who make this amazing blessed content and also, to join my boi Janus in fucking destroying society by giving money to the people who actually deserve it, fuck YOU GOVERNMENT-

Okay.

New headcanon time as to why Patton, Remus, and Logan weren't in the ep: they were helping Jan film that Patreon promotional video.

Remus directed it, Logan helped with the lighting and script, and Patton was just there as the cheerleader.

The reason Janus made a dog with shadow puppets wasn't just to flaunt his deity status and prove how he is truly above us mere wretched mortals

despite that being the absolute truth and we all know it, don't lie to yourselves

No, it was really him trying to do something cute and silly for Patton, because Moceit rights, daMMIT

*inhales*

noww

guys, gals, and nonbinary pals

it’s time forr

the most wonderful time of the yearrr

WAITING FOR THE NEXT EPISODE

Step right up, folks! Hear ye, hear ye, my prediction for the next episode: Prinxiety v. Moceit! With special guest stars: Karrot Kings vibing in adorable gay and Intrulogical, bitter at being excluded aGAIN

Who will win? Who will lose?

here’s a hint: we all will because in this sick twisted game they are no winners only losers-

Place your bets, folks! ✨

Haha im not readyyy~

tl;dr

this episode has cleared my skin, watered my crops, and ended my suffering—an adorable calm before the... angsty fucking shitstorm that’s coming far too soon. Prinxiety stans, enjoy your food. Place an 'F' in the chat for me and my fellow grieving Remus stans. Trashmas is the true OTP, but Karrot Kings is cute too I guess. I've only had Nico Florés for 24 minutes, but if anything happens to him, I'll kill everyone in this room and then myself. Purple eyeshadow Virgil makes me question my sexuality aGAIN, and happy gay disney prince rights y'all. Say a big ole 'fuck you' to capitalism by giving your local dapper snake moneys. Concussion makes brain go brr and imma go buy some carrots and be gay now.

psst hey @quarantinevibes2020 you wanna join me in being disaster-y? i’ll bring my best gay stare and you bring the wine

Until next time, my lovelies! ~ Ches 🖤

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inmyownlittlecorner5 · 4 years

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Moonlight Chapter 23: Summer of Discontent

A fanfic Novel by la-topolina

Rated for Mature Audiences

Warnings: Language, Violence, Sexual Content

Chapter 23/26

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Twenty-Two+

Chapter Twenty-Four+ >>

Miranda rapped on the door of Severus’s tattered house at Spinner’s End on Thursday a week after Sânziene, her bag slung over her shoulder and a bouquet of flowers from the mountaintop charmed to freshness in her hands. The aging neighbor at the end of the block came out of her house to collect the morning paper, and Miranda mused that Severus must be in the basement brewing to have left her on his doorstep so long. When the neighbor gave her a lingering stare as she dawdled on her lawn, Miranda raised her hand to knock again, but the door opened, saving her the trouble. Before the neighbor could stare any longer, Severus’s hand had snaked out and pulled her firmly inside, while his other hand closed the door against prying eyes.

The morning light filtered in through the shuttered sitting room, lingering on the piles of neatly stacked books and the threadbare furniture. Severus was in his shirtsleeves, and his hair was tied back the way he did when he meant to do some serious work. His eyes were warm as he ran them over her, and she smiled back at him as she handed him the posy.

“I suppose I should be the one to bring you flowers,” he remarked as he held the collection up to the sunlight in order to better study the array.

“You could. But I prefer books and whiskey if you’re taking notes,” she replied.

He nodded absently and muttered, half to himself, “I’ve never seen some of these species before. This one appears to be a Cruciata laevipes, but I’ve never seen it quite this color or shape…”

Miranda hung her bag on the lonely coatrack by the door, giving company to Severus’s winter cloak and a dusty bowler hat that she had never seen—nor could imagine—him wearing.

“Still no invitation for me from the Dark Lord?” she asked cheekily.

“No. I’m afraid you are completely ignored. The cut direct.” He gave her half of a smile and caught her hand, turning it over to press his lips against the inside of her wrist. “Come. I require help decanting the Changeover Potion and you are just in time.”

*****

Two hours later they were both sweating as the heat of the day began seeping down into the basement. This, combined with the blazing fire under the cauldron, and the tedium of her task, had Miranda nearing the end of her patience. Severus was syphoning off the liquid parts of the potion into jars, dropper-full by dropper-full, and she had to keep the mass turning clockwise at a constant speed while he worked. It had taken a full twenty minutes before he had been satisfied that she was doing her job correctly, and only the lingering kiss he’d dropped onto the back of her neck when she had finally “gotten it right” had stopped her from hexing him in retaliation. Her arm had long since passed the stage of sensation, but she knew better than to bother suggesting using a charm to keep the spoon moving. For a wizard, Severus was inordinately fond of what her Mama would term ‘elbow grease.’

“Only a few more moments. Excellent work, Miranda,” Severus murmured as he painstakingly transferred the potion.

The sight of the dregs at the bottom of the cauldron, paired with such a hearty compliment, cheered Miranda and she teased, “That’s awfully pleasant of you. Maybe you aren’t such a beast of a teacher after all.”

“Then please allow me to assure you that I am only pleasant with you, and I have ulterior motives for being so,” he replied, his eyes still on his work.

“Really? What might those be?”

The corner of his mouth turned up in his trademark smirk and, when he spoke, it was in his most silken rumble. “I should think you are perfectly aware of what my motives are.”

Her face went hot and her stomach flipped deliciously. “I see. How much longer is this going to take? I wouldn’t want you to be too tired to put those motives into practice. Especially on such a hot day as this is shaping up to be.”

His smirk transformed into one of his rare, full smiles. “Patience is a virtue, Miranda. And being as I’ve thought of little else since Monday evening when you informed me that you were planning to grace me with your presence, I doubt I will be too tired.”

“What a relief.”

“Feeling neglected, are we?”

“Well it’s not as though my last two visits were very conducive to fucking, now were they?” Good Lord, her face must be beet red by now, and her voice was even betraying a quiver of excitement. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

“I shall endeavor to make it up to you.” He glanced away from his work long enough to take in the state of her cheeks and added, “Have I mentioned how amusing it is to watch you turn that particular shade of pink?”

“You have, more than once. One would think I’d grow out of blushing at some point.”

“I should hope not. It’s one of your more charming attributes.”

He finished his work and charmed the cauldron to float on its side while they scraped out every last bit of the solids in the bottom onto squares of cheesecloth. These they wrapped into bundles to hang over bowls to drain further, in an effort not to waste a drop of the precious potion. Severus flicked his wand once to return the cauldron to its place on the workbench, twice to smother the fire, and a final time to flip one of the hourglasses that sat on a shelf of other timers of various sizes. The sand in the chosen glass began running, and Miranda and Severus took turns scrubbing their hands at the gleaming stainless steel sink. While Severus was busy at his task, Miranda rolled her head and shoulders to relieve the strain of the morning’s work. She forgot what she was doing though, when he fixed her with a heated gaze, and stalked across the room to her with the air of a cat approaching an amusing morsel of food.

“There is half an hour before the Changeover Potion will require filtering,” he began, running a long finger over her cheek and down the side of her neck. “I trust that will be sufficient time to take the edge off our appetites.”

“We can certainly try,” she murmured, her breath catching as his finger dipped under the neckline of her tunic.

He laughed darkly and her head tilted back to receive a kiss that was aborted before it reached its destination. His lips and his laughter twisted into a frustrated snarl, and he snapped away from her, jerking his sleeves back into place and fastening them around his wrists. The Dark Mark writhed on his forearm, taunting her before he hid it from view, and she forced a smile to cover the disappointment that was, at that moment, choking her.

“The Dark Lord has the worst timing,” she said, pleased that her voice was mostly even.

“He does,” Severus agreed in a similar tone as jammed his arms into his frock coat with a violence that should have torn it apart at the seams.

“Is there anything else I should do besides filter the Potion?”

She could see his measured breathing as he did up his buttons, and his voice was completely calm when he answered, “It would be helpful for you to scrub out the cauldrons. You’ll have to do it the Muggle way.”

“That’s not a problem. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Buttons fastened, he crossed the room in three steps, caught her in his arms, and kissed her with the sort of single-minded concentration that she had only witnessed him give to his most interesting subjects of study. She stared up at him in a daze when he finally released her.

“Good,” he said roughly.

He released her so quickly that she found herself clinging to the edge of the workbench for support. Her lips felt bruised and she was breathing as though she’d run a race. The sight of her thus inspired a shadow of good humor to flit across Severus’s face, and he was halfway up the stairs before he had fully disciplined his features into the cold mask of indifferent displeasure that was his protection.

The fact that she had felt his heart hammering in his chest when he had crushed her against him had her smiling for quite some time, in spite of the interruption and the lonely chores left behind.

*****

Curse the Dark Lord and curse Peter Pettigrew! The simpering fool was trotting along at Severus’s heels like a yappy dog; asking question after question about where Severus lived; and what would he be assisting with; and would it be terribly dangerous; and did Severus know that he was allergic to strawberries; and on and on until Severus was certain he would go stark raving mad with the constant onslaught. He would rather have endured a bout of Cruciatus any day of the week than be saddled with the task of nursemaiding this idiot for an entire summer. To make matters worse, Severus was perfectly aware that Pettigrew would be reporting anything he saw or heard to the Dark Lord. Pettigrew was no doubt expected to spy on Severus as much—if not more—than Severus was expected to spy on him.

Pettigrew continued his yammering without respite as they mounted the steps to the house at Spinner’s End. Severus blocked out the sound of the other man’s voice that he might apply his attention to the problem of removing Miranda from the scene without Pettigrew realizing who she was. The Dark Lord still seemed either unaware of, or uninterested in her, and Severus was determined to keep it that way for as long as humanly possible. A plan quickly formed in his mind; inelegant, but it would have to do.

They entered the house and, before the door was completely closed, Severus addressed his unwanted guest in his sternest professor voice. “Wait here, Wormtail.”

The cold authority made Pettigrew jump, but he loitered in the sitting room while Severus smoothly collected Miranda’s bag from the coatrack and stalked into the kitchen, where he could hear her rustling the dishes. He found her plating a lovely collection of cold meat, cheese, and fruit, and the smile she greeted him with made him renew all his curses towards the Dark Lord and the Rat. Before she could speak, he laid a finger over his lips and silently pushed the kitchen door shut behind him, locking it with a flick of his fingers. Merlin bless her, she confined her questions to the cocking of her head and the concerned expression on her face, and she waited patiently for him to pull a bottle out of the pantry and dump it into a pot on the range. As the murky contents came to a simmer, Miranda drifted to his side. He took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers, although whether this was to reassure her or to reassure himself he did not know.

When the potion was ready, he let go of her hand to pour it into a mug. A few moments of rummaging in the cabinet next to the icebox produced a vial of curly brown hair, which he dropped into the mug to complete the potion. He put the mixture into her waiting hands, and she drank it down without protest or hesitation. His heart skipped a beat, both in remorse for the pain that this transformation was surely causing her; and in elation at this further proof of her trust in him. Soon, brown eyes were blinking up at him from a heart-shaped face, and he flicked his wand to transfigure her tunic and trousers into a smart set of green dress robes to fit this shorter frame.

“{What was that phrase you used the night we met?}” he asked in Romanian. “{Ah, yes. Just play along.}”

She obediently fell in behind him and he shoved the kitchen door open without ceremony. This unnecessary use of force rewarded him with a painful squeak from Pettigrew, who had been huddling just on the other side of the door, eavesdropping. Clearly the Rat hadn’t moved fast enough, and he cradled his nose where the door had smacked him, whimpering pathetically. Severus did not bother to check his progress through the sitting room, and he and Miranda were halfway to the front door before Pettigrew started trailing after them.

“{That is Wormtail,}” Severus explained quickly, in a bored tone that belied the importance of his words. “{The Dark Lord wishes for me to keep close watch on him this summer.}”

“{And for him to keep watch on you, I expect,}” Miranda replied, imitating his rhythm and his timbre.

“{Indeed. I’m afraid I shall have to ask you to leave.}”

“{I assumed as much. I guess this means no opera in August.}”

“{No. I should think not.} They reached the door and Severus held it open for her. “{I shall need the rest of the day to secure the house from Wormtail’s prying, but I intend to be at liberty to visit you at your cabin tonight, if that is agreeable to you.}”

Although her face was the wrong shape, the wicked expression on it was unmistakably Miranda. “{I tremble with anticipation. Is there anything in particular you’d like for dinner?}”

He allowed himself to relax enough to brush his lips against her cheek. “{Surprise me.}”

She gave him one final smile, and tripped lightly out the door without a backward glance.

“I didn’t know you spoke French,” Pettigrew whined from the sitting room. “Who was that? I wouldn’t have minded being introduced.”

Severus gave Pettigrew an icy expression and replied cooly, “I met her at a Potions Conference a few years ago. She drops in from time to time and I would like her to continue to do so. I doubt this would happen if she were to think I kept company with the likes of you.” He drew his wand and hexed Pettigrew in one motion, sending the other man yelping across the room. “Go upstairs and get to work cleaning. The attic hasn’t be touched in years. You will start there.”

*****

“I believe you are enjoying this,” Albus remarked in a voice strained with pain. He was propped up in an armchair in his personal library in his quarters, stubbornly refusing to lie down while Severus attempted further treatment for his cursed hand. The older wizard had already been dosed with potions, but the application of the poultice was the worst part of the operation.

“I am. Thoroughly,” Severus replied dully. He performed his task as quickly and gently as he could, but there was no sparing his mentor from the pain. By the time the final bandage was wrapped around Albus’s damaged hand, the man was visibly gritting his teeth.

Severus left Albus to recover from the ordeal and went about the business of packing up his supplies in silence. When all was in order, he scrubbed his hands, trying not to look at his sallow face reflected in the mirror over the sink in the loo. Although he had done his best to mitigate the havoc he and his fellow Death Eaters had been wreaking throughout the country this week, there was only so much he could do. The destruction of the bridge weighed on him particularly for some reason. Whenever he closed his eyes he was standing on the shore, watching—and worse—hearing the event over and over again.

“Severus?” Albus called weakly.

“I’m coming,” Severus replied, dragging himself back to the present as he dried his hands.

“I would like to lie down now, if it is not too much trouble,” Albus said when Severus rejoined him.

“That would be for the best.”

It took some time, but Albus managed to walk under his own power from library to bedchamber, only leaning on Severus’s arm from time to time for support. Severus did have to help the older man into bed, as well as remove his mentor’s shoes and tuck the blankets around him.

“There are a few things I must tell you,” Albus said, winded from the treatment and the walk to his bed.

“You should rest. You’re exhausted,” Severus protested. He had no desire to hear what would surely be more bad news.

“I am afraid it cannot wait. The fewer times you interrupt me, the sooner I will gain my rest.”

Severus sighed and drew up a chair next to the bed. Whatever it was Albus wanted to tell him, Severus was certain he wanted to hear it while sitting down.

It took some time for Albus to gather his strength to continue. “I want you to tell Tom that Emmeline Vance has been instructed to retrieve the notes from the most recent meeting of the Wizengamot for me. I was unfortunately unable to attend, and Scrimgeour is being less than cooperative about allowing me access to them. She is to fetch them tomorrow night, late in the evening, and she will be quite alone.”

Severus stared out the window across the room, not wanting to meet Albus’s tired eyes. “If I give that information to the Dark Lord, he will attempt to have her murdered.”

“Yes, that is the point of the exercise. She will be murdered on your intelligence. We must do everything we can to convince Tom that you are his man.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Emmeline is aware and most accepting of her fate.”

“Is she?”

“She is ill, with a Muggle disease of all things. After consulting with both Healers and Muggle doctors, it has become apparent that there is no hope for a cure. She would rather die this way than waste into nothingness. I must say I know exactly how she feels, and I share her sentiments.”

Severus turned his eyes to Albus and was struck by how very old the man appeared. Although he felt as though he had swallowed lead, Severus knew that there was no use debating. The decisions had all been made. All that was left for him to do was bring them to fruition.

“Do you wish to add anyone else to the list of people whose deaths you require me to orchestrate?”

“Not at the moment. How is Miranda?”

Had it really only been a week since he’d seen her? It seemed as though an age had passed rather than a few days. “She was well when I saw her last.”

“She is a very resourceful and adaptable person, isn’t she?

“Yes.” Severus raised an eyebrow. It was unusual for Albus to ask him about his private life.

“A curious person as well, I expect.”

“I suppose.”

“As amusing as her company must be, I must ask you to remember it is vital that Tom trust you. To this end, no one outside of this room may know the truth of our plans. If Miranda—or anyone else for that matter—were to be privy to this information and fall into the hands of our enemies…”

“It would be disastrous. I understand Albus. Rest assured that Miranda and I do not talk about my work for the Order.” Severus frowned and returned his attention to the night sky out the window. This conversation was reminding him unpleasantly of similar ones he had had with Lucius Malfoy.

“And I trust you will keep it that way.”

Albus’s eyes drifted closed, and Severus decided not to say anything at all in response to this command. If Severus had learned one thing over the years, it was that Albus was very good at ensuring that the promises made to him were kept. There was a niggling voice at the back of Severus’s mind warning him not to make a promise that he might later regret.

Albus seemed to take the silence as answer enough. He went on without opening his eyes, “I am going to give you the DADA position this year.”

Severus started as though someone had hit him with an auguamenti of ice cold water. “Now? Aren’t you concerned about the jinx?” he asked dryly.

“I am counting on the jinx. After your year is up and I am dead, I intend for Tom to make you Headmaster.”

“Absolutely not. I would rather murder the whole of the Order myself than run this foul school.”

“Then it is good that you will have some time to become accustomed to the idea. I trust you recall your promise to me to protect the students as best you can.”

He did remember, and he knew that arguing with Albus was an exercise in futility.

“You should rest now, Albus,” Severus said, standing and making his way to the door. He had had quite enough of this interview, and he had Albus’s unpleasant errand to the Dark Lord to discharge before the night was spent. “Let the treatment do what it can for you.”

“Good night, Severus. And good luck.”

“I do not believe I can agree with either sentiment.”

Severus shut the door behind him, putting an end to the conversation. It was a much longer time before he managed to shut his mind to the revulsion he felt towards the tasks he had been set.

*****

Molly Weasley had outdone herself. Every surface, on the ground floor at least, of Number Twelve Grimmauld place gleamed. True, the cracks and subtle signs of decay remained present as sullen, silent witnesses to the long years of neglect—but today—today they were, at least, clean. Severus paused awkwardly in the doorway long enough to notice that Mrs. Black’s portrait was unveiled. Uncharacteristically, the lady inhabiting the frame did not scream. She eyed Severus imperiously from beneath her draperies of black lace and crepe; noted him and did him the politeness of ignoring his existence. Severus frowned and continued into the hallway, feeling like a grindylow out of water.

The drawing room, when he reached it, was laid out to receive guests as cheerily as was appropriate to so somber an occasion. A table near the door was set with a few pictures of Sirius Black, from his school days and shortly after. They were flanked by vases holding bouquets of red gladiolus, ostentatious flowers, suited to the man they honored. Severus studied the pictures only long enough to cause the subject of them to sneer at him and look away. It was just as well. Severus hadn’t really come to pay respects to Sirius Black anyway.

“Why, Severus!” exclaimed Molly as she bustled into the room, overseeing the transportation of a polished but ancient samovar as it floated to the refreshment table. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you then,” Severus replied. “Especially when Black would no doubt have detested my presence at such a moment.”

“Now, that’s enough of that. You’re one of us, and I’m glad you’re here. Let me get you a cup of tea while we wait for the others. How do you take it?”

Realizing it would be far more trouble to argue Molly out of her hostessing than it was worth, he answered, “Cream. No sugar,” and accepted cup, saucer, and spoon without further comment. Duty done, Molly scurried away to see to the final preparations, and Severus drifted towards the back of the room, to nurse his tea and brood out the window.

By the time the clock above the mantel had struck a quarter past the hour, the room and the hallway were filled with most of the Order, along with those of their family that were sympathetic to the loss of Sirius Black. Although the mood over the gathering had begun in a hushed moan, it was steadily mounting to a dull roar as reunions of all types took place, and the inevitable tedious round of “do you remember when” began. Severus bristled at the din, especially when he discovered Remus Lupin at his elbow, apparently determined not to leave Severus to himself.

“Severus, it’s good of you to be here,” Remus said, nervously buttoning and unbuttoning the cuff of his left sleeve with the air of one who was not quite aware of what he was doing.

“Lupin.”

“This isn’t exactly the way Sirius would have wanted it, of course. Too solemn. He’d have wanted a full-out party. But we’ll try to get to that before the evening’s through.”

“And I shall endeavor to be gone well before that begins.”

An awkward silence fell between them, but Remus broke it before long by saying sheepishly, “Harry’s asked me to give a speech. You’d think that after a year of teaching I wouldn’t be nervous about giving a speech about one of my best friends.”

“Indeed.” Why wouldn’t Lupin leave him in peace? It wasn’t as though Severus belonged here, and everyone knew it. More than one eye had lingered on him, ranging from the curious to the accusatory, where he stood lurking in the back of the room like some wallflower party-crasher.

Molly appeared through the crowd, putting an end to the painful conversation. “Remus, I think it’s time. Best to get the speeches over first, and then everyone can relax and, well, enjoy isn’t the right word, but they can talk and remember.”

“Right then,” Remus said, clearing his throat. He shot a not unfriendly look at Severus and said wryly, “Wish me luck.”

Severus declined to comment and, although he turned to face the room rather than the window, he drew himself as far towards the back as he could. Why in Merlin’s name had he given in to his idiotic impulse to come here today? The summer must be wearing on him more than he wanted to admit. He flexed his right arm involuntarily. Sometimes he swore that the bonds of the Vow burned him as much as they had the moment he’d taken it. He’d been a fool then too, but he had found he could not bear the sight of the proud Narcissa Malfoy, humiliating herself at his feet, sobbing herself sick for love of her son. Until that moment, Severus had believed that he would find some cure for Albus, some way out of the unacceptable position he was in, called upon to murder one of the only people in his life who had ever been willing to give him a second chance. But now that hope was dead. It was kill, or be killed. And Severus had every grim intention of doing the former rather than the latter. It wasn’t so much that he was afraid to die. Some days he longed for it. But he had made a promise to Albus on Lily’s sacred name. He would carry out that promise as long as he had breath, no matter how bitter the consequences.

“Thank you all for being here today,” Remus said, his quiet voice instantly bringing the room to order. “I’m going to keep this short. Sirius would have wanted more laughter and less tears today. Sirius Black was a man who loved his friends…”

“The old place cleaned up nicely, wouldn’t you agree, Professor Snape?”

Severus raised an eyebrow and turned to the source of the question, which was the heretofore empty portrait hanging on the wall next to the window.

“It would have been better, of course, if my useless great-great-grandson had bothered to maintain his patrimony, but I suppose we unhappy dead must be grateful for what tatters of respect we are granted,” Phineas Nigellus continued. Severus made no answer, and Phineas had no need for encouragement to continue, “You’ll have noticed that dear Walburga has held her tongue today. All that infernal screaming gave me a right headache and would be most unseemly now. Must stand together on an occasion such as this, although I don’t know that I care for this Lupin giving the opening address. At least that Weasley fellow realized the importance of rehanging my portrait in the drawing room for such an occasion.”

“I take it you will be speaking as well?” Severus asked.

“Of course I will! Sirius was my great-great-grandson, wasn’t he?” Phineas’s voice trembled momentarily as he added, “The last of the Blacks. It is the end of a dynasty. It must not go by unmarked by history. And I am delighted to see a that rational man such as yourself will be present to witness it.” Phineas eyed Severus suspiciously and added, “Although I don’t know quite how rational you are, what with joining the Order. It would be far better to keep your head down. I wonder at the Slytherins they produce these days. Things are not at all the way they used to be.”

A burst of applause mingled with a few hearty shouts of “Hear, hear!” signaled the end of Lupin’s words. Phineas straightened his robes and said, “Ah! The crowd is warmed up for the main event I see. Be so good as to toddle off so as not to block their view of me would you?”

Severus was more than happy to escape from the former Headmaster, although he found himself to be swimming upstream of a crowd that did not seem at all disposed to listen to the wisdom of Phineas Nigellus at the moment. With some difficulty, Severus managed to deposit his empty tea things on a side table. Then there was nothing for it but to push through the crush to the door. Thankfully, no one attempted to engage him in conversation. He did feel Potter’s glare on the back of his neck but, when he turned his level gaze on the boy’s tear-streaked face, Potter looked away without comment.

It was much quieter in the hallway, and Severus halted for a moment under one of the flickering gas-lamps to catch his breath. If he were honest with himself, he did know why he had come here tonight. The deaths of Amelia Bones and Emmeline Vance haunted him, specters in the periphery of his mind pointing fingers of accusation at him for all that he had done and all he had failed to do. Although he had not known Amelia Bones beyond her reputation for being a reasonable and right-minded person, Emmeline had been another story. The formidable Hufflepuff had been one of the few people during his school-days outside of Slytherin House who had treated him with any decency. He had liked her—at least, as well as he liked anybody. Attending the funeral for either of these witches had been out of the question. To have done so would have been to waste the credit with the Dark Lord that their blood had so dearly bought. He had come tonight, to the memorial of a man that he hated, out of remembrance of them, in a useless attempt to assuage his own guilty conscience.

In the middle of his self-flagellation, Tonks wandered down the hallway, dressed decently for once in formal robes, her mousy brown hair shrouding her downcast face. Severus expected her to pass him by, but when she realized who he was, she stopped, an arms-length away, and her chin came up, her jaw set in anger.

“Were you there?” she asked abruptly.

“Excuse me?” he returned. He was in no mood for games, especially with this half-grown Auror.

“When Emmeline was murdered. Were you there?”

“I was.” Severus’s voice was perfectly even, as was his gaze as he met her tear-filled glare.

“Did you do it? Were you the one that killed her?”

“No.”

This answer only seemed to enrage her more. “Why didn’t you stop it?”

“How long do you think the Dark Lord would believe that I am his man if I rescued every member of the Order who managed to put herself in danger? Why was Emmeline alone that night? If she had been accompanied, as she should have been, perhaps she would still be alive today.”

“So it’s her fault?!” Tonks’s voice had risen to a shrill pitch, and she took a step closer to Severus. Before she could draw her wand, Remus appeared from the room. By the concerned expression on his face, he had guessed the gist of the present altercation.

“Tonks, there you are,” Remus said in a soothing voice. “Why don’t you come back in…”

But Tonks was not to be placated. She ignored Remus as though he were under an invisibility cloak and persisted, “You just stood there, didn’t you?”

Severus summoned his coldest stare and his iciest tone. “You’ve no idea what happened. Don’t speak of things you do not understand.”

“Tonks, Severus, please. It’s Sirius’s memorial,” Remus said, his hand on Tonks’s arm. “There’s nothing to be gained by this.”

“Yes there is!” she shouted, her hair turning from brown to red in her anguish. “Emmeline baby-sat me when I was a kid! She taught me to ride a broom! She’s dead and Snape could’ve saved her, but he’s too worried about saving his own skin that he didn’t even try!”

“Are you calling me a coward?” Severus’s voice had lost some of its icy indifference.

“Severus, Tonks, please!” Remus pleaded, but neither heard him.

“Yes!” Tonks hissed. “Coward!”

Severus drew himself up to his full height and let his anger at the Dark Lord, Albus, Wormtail, and the whole damned mess that was drowning him blaze out of his eyes and into hers. He closed the short distance between them and, while she pursed her lips until they were a thin, white line, she did not look away, even for an instant.

After a full minute of this, he said softly, “Do not speak of things that you do not understand, Nymphadora.”

He held her gaze for a beat longer than was comfortable for either of them, and then swept silently away. Before he had gained the comfort of the street, he heard her growl after him,

“Don’t call me Nyphadora.”

*****

By the time Severus’s mind had cleared sufficiently for him to take note of his surroundings, his feet had led him to the alley he typically used for Apparition to and from meetings at Grimmauld Place. He was about to storm home to nurse his foul temper, but the knowledge that Wormtail’s company awaited him there gave him pause. To put off the inevitable time when he would have to endure the Rat’s unwanted presence, he pulled out his cigarette case, leaning against a grimy brick wall to light it and think. Since the previous summer, it was impossible to enter this alley without it bringing Miranda to mind, and he found himself musing over what she would say if he could speak to her now. She would no doubt advise him to relax and forget about the previous hour’s entertainment; but she would also sympathize with his impossible position in a way that he coveted—but surely did not deserve.

As the cigarette burned lower, he started turning ideas over in his mind. In less than a week he intended to return to Hogwarts along with those teachers who preferred the benefit of an early start at preparation for the coming year’s troubles. His class preparation was long since complete, but he intended to escape from the confines of Spinner’s End at the earliest possible moment. The Changeover Potion would be complete within the next day or so, and he supposed the time was drawing near when he would be obliged to request that Albus arrange the potion’s safe delivery to Miranda. He had yet to confess that he was more involved with the Romanian project than he was strictly supposed to be. In light of Albus’s comments earlier this summer, Severus was anticipating some sort of unpleasant backlash.

When the cigarette was spent, the threads of ideas had woven themselves into a new plan. Before he could think better of it, Severus set out to put it into motion.

*****

“I don’t know why I play with you,” Charity Burbage complained good-naturedly, “you always win.”

“Not always,” Severus countered.

“Yes, there was that time in ’85. And again in ’91. But I seem to remember you were ill on both of those occasions, so I don’t know that it really counts.” She plucked her knitting out of the air beside her, where it had been hovering during their game, a charm keeping the work that formed the olive-colored yarn into neat, cabled rows growing. The chess pieces scrambled back into place to start a new game, but Charity’s resuming her knitting was the usual cue that chess was over for the evening.

“Victory counts however it is achieved.” Severus settled back into the comfortable, doily covered armchair to sip his tea and put the earlier events of the evening out of his mind. He let his eyes drift around the living room of Charity’s flat, studying the ever changing collection of Muggle appliances and knick knacks that crowded every available surface; from the upright piano to the china cabinet to the mantel over the faux fireplace.

“Now, tell me the truth, Severus. Did you really come here tonight for a game of chess?”

If he weren’t so accustomed to the surprisingly penetrating gaze coming from Charity’s pleasant, laugh-lined face, he would have bristled at such a direct accusation. However, he had spent enough time with her throughout the course of his teaching career at Hogwarts, that he well knew how observant and intelligent she was.

“Perhaps I did. Why do you ask?”

“I wouldn’t ask, except that I haven’t seen you at all this summer.”

“I have had an inordinate amount of work occupying my time.”

“You look like death warmed over. When was the last time you ate?”

“This afternoon.”

She clearly did not believe him, but her concentration was too occupied by the demands of casting on to pursue the falsehood.

“There is a small matter about which I wish to consult you.”

“Yes?” Her curiosity was piqued enough that she risked her counting by glancing up for a moment. “If I can help you, I certainly will.”

He set his teacup down amidst the piles of books and paraphernalia on the coffee table, and began plucking at a stray thread on his cuff. “I’ve decided to take a short Holiday before term starts.”

“Have you? That’s wonderful!”

It took a distinct effort not to flinch at the surprise in her voice, but he controlled himself and soldiered on. “I would like it to be as discreet as possible.”

“As suits you. I know you like your privacy.”

“Indeed. To achieve this, I intend to avail myself of certain Muggle establishments.” The end of the sentence came out in a garbled sort of mutter, and he cringed inwardly, waiting for her to laugh at his plans.

She surprised him, though, by nodding in agreement. “That’s an excellent idea.”

He felt his face relax, and the thread on his cuff no longer seemed so troublesome. “I suppose that sounds unusual.”

“You’re not the first wizard to look for anonymity in the Muggle world. Although I will admit I’m surprised at your being willing to take a Holiday at all.” She paused in her counting long enough to give him a motherly smile. “But that makes me all the happier to hear you decide to take one. I assume you want some help making the arrangements?”

“I do.” This was turning out to be easier than he had feared it would be. “While there may be the ghost of a telephone at Spinner’s End, it certainly hasn’t been in working condition at any point during the last decade.”

“I expected as much.”

“And I trust I can rely on your silence in the unlikely event that anyone should ask you where I am.”

“Of course! Mum’s the word.” Her casting finished, she looked at him with eager curiosity and asked, “Where will you be going?”

He cleared his throat. “Bucharest.”

“Bucharest?” She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Isn’t that in Romania?”

“It is.”

She opened and closed her mouth once or twice, obviously fighting the urge to pepper him with questions he would refuse to answer. “Alright. Bucharest. Do you have anywhere specific in mind?”

“I do. Lodging for two in a decent hotel and tickets to whatever is playing at the Romanian National Opera.”

Her eyebrows were firmly fixed in her hairline, but she made an heroic effort to resist prying further. “I think I can help you, but my Romanian’s pretty rusty.”

“I can handle the Romanian.”

“Good to know. I want you to notice how many questions I’m not asking you.”

“I have. You are the soul of discretion and I shall sing your praises from the mountain tops as soon as I find the proper time to do so.”

She laughed heartily and even he found that he could smile in spite of his embarrassment.

“Why don’t you come back tomorrow for lunch,” she suggested. “I’ll feed you a real meal and we can see about setting up your trip.”

“Thank you. I shall.”

He might come to regret this decision in time but, for the moment, all seemed right with the world.

*****

End Notes:

Many thanks to Mr. Zingarella for beta-ing this chapter; and to Bunbury (Jane) for encouragement and inspiration!

*****

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Twenty-Two+

Chapter Twenty-Four+ >>

#harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #severus snape #snape #snape x oc #oc appreciation #severus snape fanfic #severus snape fanfiction #snape fanfic #snape fanfiction #second wizarding war #spying #espionage #adventure #romance #phineas nigellus black #ilvermorny

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trickeyarchangel · 6 years

Text

Reaction to Ep 1 of RWBY Volume 6

I’m late to the RWBY party because college is kicking my ass like how Yang kicked that manticore grimm’s ass but hey! Better late than never, I always say.

So before I start going into the details, this is a general summary of my reaction to both episodes:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

Okay. Now on to my thoughts on the episode [WARNING: It’s a long post because I have a lot to share]

((Spoilers for Episode 1 of Volume 6 of RWBY below!))

RWBY Volume 6, Chapter 1: Argus Limited

So before I start, let me just start with just...

OH MY GOD

Guys. The fight scene was A-MA-ZING!

Compared to the fight scenes of Vol. 5, it has improved so much. And also, the narrative flow and overall pacing of the episode was very nice. So mad props to everyone in the CRWBY - the animators and the writers! I’m so proud!

Also... the new opening theme? Love it. LOve it. LOVE IT! I legit can’t wait for the full song to be released, guys. Also, the animation of the new opening sequence? So good. It gave me the WhiteRose cuties and RenNora being sweeties on a bench. I am a simple woman - that made me grin so wide. Although I am very worried about Qrow now. Those Grimm arms grabbing him and pulling him into the dark??? Bad luck druncle may be in danger this volume OR HE COULD DIE AND I’M NOT READY FOR THAT and I am just...bracing myself for the worst. The story is getting darker and with that comes the reality that characters will die and I’ve made the mistake of becoming super attached to Qrow and he’s literally one of the top characters that could die very soon. I am not ready.

Now to the actual episode content (bullet-ed this part to organize everything since I tend to scatter my thoughts when it comes to reactions):

I like how they started with a snippet of the train fight. It really drew me in and got my heart pumping. Literally after that, I was just glued to the screen of my laptop. It’s a fine way to capture the audience’s attention and drag them back into the world of Remnant.

Premium Team RWBY and JNR dynamic content. Literally, it made my heart soar to see everyone just...being happy and interacting with each other.It gave me the Vol. 1 + 2 vibes. Especially Yang and Ruby’s little moment. After all the dark emotions that Yang was flooded with last volume, it is such a nice breath of air to see her being so bombastic and energetic with Ruby, who I am sure is very VERY happy to see her sister happy again.

Speaking of Yang, while it is nice to see her act all gung-ho a la early RWBY volumes again, I am also very pleased with the writers’ choice to keep the hurt she still has over Blake leaving after Beacon’s fall. Them showing that she and Blake’s relationship isn’t automatically “back to normal” really keeps the relationships believable. After the trauma Yang’s been through (losing her arm, Blake leaving, the crap with Raven), it makes sense that she’s become more cautious socially. Obviously, she’s (somewhat) forgiven Blake, but their bond is still healing and I am very interested to see that play out.

Another thing I loved was seeing Blake’s development as a character. Her scene with Sun, in particular, is a highlight for me. Sun and her’s relationship the past volume was one that I didn’t quite enjoy, mainly because Sun was sort of Blake’s emotional punching bag. So this moment, with Sun willing to let her go now since she doesn’t “need him” to continue on now because she has her team with her (AND BLAKE APPRECIATING HIS HELP and kissing his cheek [BLACKSUN - HELL YEAH] ), god, I loved it.

Also: SUN FINALLY GOING BACK TO HIS TEAM AND ACKNOWLEDGING THAT HIM BEING AWAY FROM THEM IS A “BAD TEAM LEADER” THING. God. FInally. So glad the writers mentioned that. So. Glad.

And Neptune. Good to see him again. A little disappointed that he didn’t have a moment with Weiss (and very disappointed that he flirted with Ilia). Are he and Weiss even still a thing? RWBY writers, please tell me. I would like that cleared up please.

Honorable mention: Ilia. Hearing that Ghira is starting a new Faunus movement and that she will be joining it (and just getting a second chance) made me smile so wide.

Her and Blake hugging was literally cavities inducing.

I already mentioned the fighting scene and its amazing-ness. So I will gloss over that. But I will mention:

TEAM RWBY BACK TOGETHER AGAIN

QROW AND RUBY DOUBLE-TEAMING WITH THEIR SCYTHES

JAUNE’S SEMBLANCE LITERALLY BEING A BUFF TO OTHER SEMBLANCES (Jaune’s a Support/Healer. I love that)

BEAUTIFUL ENVIRONMENT (The snow. The trees. Hell, even the G R I M M)

Also, Ozpin being super secretive even though he promised the group that there wouldn’t be anymore “half-truths” and “secrets”? I love you, Ozpin. You are cool as ice. But, it’s not exactly a good idea to keep things from the people that you want on your side to save the world.

I’m fully expecting the next episode to be the one where he gets called out on his secretive nature. (I’ve seen clips of what goes down *because spoilers are sometimes untagged in the rwby tag :( * so I’m pretty sure that’s what’ll happen.

Double also: M A R I A C A L A V E R A

WHO are you!?

What is with your eyes? Why are they mechanical?

My current theory is that she had silver eyes but she lost them (or she’s hiding them?). This is based on that segment in the new opening sequence where the camera zooms in on one of her mech-eyes and then fading into Ruby where the camera then zooms into one of her eyes - pretty much placing a central focus on her mysterious OP GRIMM SLAYING silver eyes. It kind of gives off that feeling that Maria and Ruby have that in common.

Also I love that her design is of Mexican inspiration. She’s amazing. I love her. I can’t wait to find out more about her!

Aaaaand that’s about it...

In summary:

SO MUCH HYPE FOR THIS VOLUME!!

Seriously, I am so proud of Miles, Kerry, and the CRWBY. The animation, the story pacing - it’s improved so much. I just want to shower them all with praise, because they’ve done such a phenomenal job.

I’m not a FIRST member (I’m a broke Filipino college student), so I’ll have to wait until Episode 2 is made available to the public to find out what awaits Team RWBY.

I’m sad that they had to separate from Jaune, Ren and Nora, but, god, I know that we’ll see them again... I’ll still miss them though. I’ve gotten really attached to the them the past few volumes. They’ve grown so much (especially Jaune) and I am just...so proud of these guys. And I’m sure Pyrrha is proud of them too (especially Jaune).

So far my predictions/expectations for this volume are:

We will definitely be learning more about Ozpin’s past this volume. The new opening sequence literally shows off some mysterious blonde lady (who kind of looks like Glynda) standing in front of a huge statue that looks a lot like Ozpin (or at least one of his past selves - which, some, were also shown in the opening sequence). So I am E X C I T E D to learn more lore behind Mr. Body Hopper.

I also am expecting a majority of the conflict being between Oz and Team RWBY and JNR. I also have a feeling that Oscar and Ozpin will be fighting with each other too. This is mostly based on the one scene all the way back in Volume 1 with Blake and her “Man with Two Souls” book where she literally mentioned that the two souls “fought for control”.

We already saw a hint, or at least a possibility, to this with Oscar emphasizing to Ozpin that he’s staying in control before joining the Manticore Grimm fight on the train.

Also based on the opening (The hooded figure with Roman’s bowler hat flying past them with a background of people holding pink umbrellas in the background - that segment, specifically):

Cinder’s alive. I am willing to bet my life on it. I doubt Miles and Kerry are just going to kill her off after she had so much build up from regaining her strength after the “Silver Eyes Encounter” with Ruby back during the Fall of Beacon. She’s alive and she’s gonna hunt down Ruby.

N E O possibly may appear. (God I hope she does.) I really hope she does. I want to see her. Especially to see how she is dealing with the aftermath of losing Roman.

I also have a theory that she is probably going her own path at this point and that she is hunting down Cinder. From how Neo and Roman fought together ( how seamless and fluid their battle dynamic was), she and him were close. If anything, I believe she would blame Cinder for Roman’s death - after all it was very much obvious that Roman was practically forced into working alongside Cinder (sort of like how Adam was when he and Cinder first crossed paths).

I also believe Neo blames Ruby too for Roman’s demise. If Ruby hadn’t hit the button that opened Neo’s parasol that sent her flying away, Neo could’ve stayed with Roman and pretty much act as his escape route (as she has done before); she could’ve protected him. And had Ruby not done that, Roman probably wouldn’t have been so angry that he attracted one Griffon Grimm to, well, eat him...

I am so excited for what’s ahead for the rest of Volume 6. 10/10 CRWBY! Rooster Teeth, you really impressed me this time. (Now let’s see if this hype will last for the entire duration of the volume...)

#rwby6 spoilers #rwby spoilers #rwby6 #rwby #My writing

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mothmanismyuncle · 2 years

Note

Re: the Hozier askmeme

In The Woods Somewhere

in the woods somewhere: have you ever had a supernatural experience?

i would love to be able to write a story for you here. a beginning, a middle, an end. some quirky tale of a house or a hotel room sometime in my recent past.

my experience isnt a place. hell, it's probably not even *an experience*, singular. it could be a million unrelated instances. it could all be one experience, all tied together in a messy gordian knot of activity and differing behaviour.

the supernatural experience, i’ve found, is simply me. i am the common denominator in all of this and one day, i hope to find out just why that is.

as a child of two, i made friends with a family in our home that my parents couldn't see. i described each of them as i got older, especially the dad. a man with a walrus moustache, a bowler hat, an undershirt and suspenders holding up crisp slacks.

the day we moved out, my grandfather watched as the very same man walked down the staircase, bent down to my level and tipped his hat at me, all before disappearing in the centre of the living room.

from that house, my family bought a plot of land next to my maternal grandmother’s house and we put a mobile home there, hoping to one day build a house for all of us to live in. the land sloped with the foothills of the appalachian mountains, more ‘woods’ than ‘yard’, and it quickly became my favourite place in the whole wide world. a stream ran through the hollow; berries grew wild behind our house; deer and bears and birds and snakes and squirrels were my peers growing up.

i was a wild little boy. summers were all grown-out, sun-blonde hair and freckled shoulders, dirt-stained knees and scraped elbows. climbing trees and catching frogs to kiss and return to the stream. i slept in the forest in a little tent i put up all by myself.

when i finally made friends of the human variety in middle school, i was so excited to show them the little haven i’d built that i brought one of them home to sleep over in my tent.

jay wasnt wild in the same way i was. they had grown up in town and the concept of sleeping in the woods on purpose had them spooked to high heavens, which is probably what had me so alert all evening.

jay and i stayed up listening to metal music and feeling so grown up, drinking monsters and putting the tabs on our friendship necklaces we wore “ironically”. every sound outside of the tent made jay jump, so i’d turn the music up louder and reassure them it was only a deer. a bird. a squirrel.

when cars would pass on the road in front of my house, it would put the house in stark relief and i would give it a once-over, ensuring that my mother and sister inside were still alright. jay began to do the same, and we’d comment that “it’s ten o’clock and all is well,” “it’s half eleven and all is well,” “it’s one o’clock in the morning and all is well,”

around three in the morning, we glanced at the house for the last time and all was not well.

my bedroom was on the far side of the house, my window perpendicular to where we sprawled in the tent. perpendicular to the road. situated perfectly for a passing car to illuminate someone, some thing, braced against the house to peer into my window.

our particular sort of mobile home had a three-foot crawlspace beneath, home to snakes and raccoons and where i was absolutely forbidden to explore on the grounds of exposed piping and wiring. above this crawlspace, there was about three or four feet to where the very bottom of my window began.

i, at thirteen, couldnt peer into my own bedroom window without standing on a lawn chair and reaching up to my full tippy-toed height to knock on it and scare my mother while she collected my laundry basket.

whatever was standing there that evening had to stoop to see inside.

jay saw it and i clapped a hand over their mouth before they could scream. we were far too close and far too exposed in a cloth tent with nothing between us and it, a realisation that washed over me with creeping dread.

“what the fuck is that,” they gasped when i let them go. “what the fuck is that,”

i didnt have an answer. i could only shake my head and shrug. before i could think of something, anything, to placate them enough that they wouldn’t alert it to our presence, we heard a sound.

crashing through the underbrush, careening down into the hollow from the house. coming distinctly, directly, inevitably towards us.

all i could do was zip up the flimsy cloth windows and turn out the flashlights. whatever it was, i didnt want to see it up close.

jay and i sat shivering under our blankets while something massive ran in endless circles around the tent, branches from the trees around the clearing rending and clattering through the bushes to the ground.

it didnt stop circling us until the sun began to peek over the other side of the hollow. as quickly as it came, it left us, seemingly melting into the early morning mist. we never heard it splinter its way through the thicket, back from whence it came. the racket stopped abruptly and with the silence, jay promptly burst into tears and i promptly burst from the tent.

in a perfect circle around us, every scant inch of life had been trampled and torn asunder, from the forest floor to branches nearly fifteen feet in the air.

jay and i left the tent, the blankets, the monster cans and our snacks, where i’m nearly certain they remain to this day.

unfortunately, or fortunately if you grow up to become an author of horror stories like i’ve done, this wasn’t the last time the being now known amongst my friends and i as “tall, dark, and creepy” has stopped by for a visit.

this post took me months to write and has already grown longer than expected, so if you’d like i can keep adding onto it in the future, but yeah.

long, long, story short, im haunted as FUCK lol

#tall dark and creepy #ask game #swear i didnt forget

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thekuroiookami · 6 years

Text

Haute couture (in which Shigaraki gets a makeover)

It was a quiet day at the headquarters. Shigaraki looked blearily around the room as he shuffled to the computer. Kurogiri was mixing drinks at the bar, Dabi was dozing off on the couch. Jin and Spinner were arguing in a corner, while Himiko read something on her perch at the counter, kicking her feet merrily.

Shigaraki took one more step before pausing.

Wait.

Since when was Toga Himiko literate?

He turned around and narrowed his eyes at her. "What are you reading?"

"Hmm?" She looked up, tongue poking out the corner of her mouth as she concentrated. "Oh, a fashion magazine."

He put in as much disdainful disbelief into his voice as he could without actually having to change expression. "Why, is cutesy bimbo going out of style?"

She ignored the barb and giggled. "No, silly! It has dating advice, look. I'm fortifying my maidenly heart for the next time I run into Izuku."

He was a little disturbed. She knew what fortify meant. "I'm glad you're taking this villain thing so seriously."

This time she did roll her eyes. "You know, Tomura, being a villain isn't that different from setting out to date someone."

"Really." He stretched out the first syllable in a contemptuous drawl. "Enlighten me."

"Yup, it is. The principles are the same, you see. You gotta make a good first impression, you have to be convincing and-" she held up a finger - "you need to dress well."

Spinner and Twice stopped squabbling, momentarily mesmerized by the idea. Kurogiri also seemed interested.

"It's true," said the bartender, "that all the famous villains had distinctive appearances. Hitler. Al Capone. That one president."

The first tendrils of a fire prickled under his neck as he digested this. She may, very distantly, and in her own, simplistic ameoba-like way, have had a point.

"So what? Are you saying I need a bowler hat and sequins?"

Dabi finally cracked open one eye to peer at the discussion. Himiko jumped off the counter in excitement. "Noooo, but a makeover sounds fun! How about it, Tomura?"

They broke into the department store around midnight. Nothing was actually broken, because that would set the alarms off, and what was the point of a Kurogiri if something as trivial as a door stopped them, anyway.

Himiko threw some lights on and dragged him over to a mirror. "Okay, so we need to decide what kind of look you want. Evil goth? Evil preppy? Evil preppy goth?"

He shrugged off her touch and buried his hands in his pockets. "I'm fine the way I am."

Spinner, Twice and Kurogiri arranged themselves on a couch like bridesmaids waiting to criticize his dress. Dabi leaned languidly against a mannequin with a mild yawn. Spinner shrugged awkwardly. "Dude, the hands are a cool touch and all, but if we think about it, you're just wearing slacks and a coat. That doesn't exactly scream menacing. More like, 'it's Monday morning and this is the most I could be bothered to do.' "

"Also," added Jin, "that trench coat sometimes gives me the impression you're a different kind of villain."

Shigaraki gave him a look that could have crisped ashes. "Did I hear someone asking for a live autopsy?"

He heard Dabi mutter something about it being called a vivisection, but ignored it. Spinner dove into the shadowy racks of clothing and came back with an armful of…something.

He gingerly picked apart the tangled mass. There was a military coat that buttoned up to the neck, knee high boots and a belt with a heavy buckle. Shigaraki dangled the visor cap in fingers, squinting at the skull insignia. "I'm not wearing this."

The group spent the next few minutes trying to persuade him otherwise, but Shigaraki was an immovable rock and refused to budge. Himiko suddenly hopped on one foot.

"I could wear it!"

They took a moment to absorb the implication.

"NO." Shigaraki looked her in the eye. "I'll kill you if you try."

"Then you gotta try 'em on, Tomura."

"No."

"Say yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"Great, the dressing room's that way!"

After a brief scuffle in which Shigaraki tried to put his bare hands on Himiko's face and Himiko tried to a put a knife in his, Kurogiri somehow managed to calm them down enough to compromise. Shigaraki gave her a drop of blood with extreme reluctance and watched with an equal amount of trepidation as she ran off.

"I hate you all," he mumbled to no one in particular.

"Here she is," announced Jin importantly.

Shigaraki watched in dawning horror as he strolled out jauntily - he'd never been jaunty in his life - and struck a pose in front of the mirror.

"Tada," came his familiar rasp. "Whatcha think?"

"Hmm, can you spin?"

The churning in his stomach grew as his three-dimensional reflection twirled beautifully on one foot.

"It's a bit…" Kurogiri trailed off meaningfully.

Shigaraki said it for him. "I look like an underpaid chauffeur," he intoned flatly.

His doppelganger drooped. Twice timidly held out an outfit. "How about this one?"

Himiko took and it and - Shigaraki swore creatively at this - skipped away. On him it looked…he couldn't bear to think about how it looked. She came back equally cheerily a minute later. "I like this one."

For the first time during the whole ordeal, Dabi reacted. The mannequin toppled over with a crash, followed by the sound of wheezing. The itch came back to life under Shigaraki's skin and he wanted to claw someone's eyes out.

"I. Am. Not. Wearing. THAT."

THAT was a full set of ninja gear, only stupidly impractical. The outfit had no sleeves, and had a chunky scarf obscuring his face up to his nose. That's what Father was for, thank you very much. The only real decision to make here was whether to kill Jin on Tuesday or Wednesday, because his schedule was a bit tight. Shigaraki settled for right now.

Shigaraki 2.0 put his hands on his hips and examined his reflection critically. "Okay, so maybe Tomura is a bit too skinny for this."

"Bitch, come here and say that to my face."

"But he has a nice chest," said Jin dreamily, "and his collarbones are good too…"

There was an awkward silence which Shigaraki used to calculate how many volts were needed to fry Twice's brain.

"It's certainly better than the last one," Dabi cut into the thickening silence. "You could use it for your final form or something."

"It's mind-meltingly stupid. Do you know how clammy fourteen hands get when they're directly on your skin? I didn't think so."

Spinner tilted his beaked head. "Why do you even need that many anyway?"

"Because I'm a sad, lonely child inside and this is the only loving embrace I've ever known- Why do you think, dumbass?"

Kurogiri cleared his throat. "May I suggest a more formal look? It worked well for All for One."

Himiko disappeared into the darkness and reappeared in yet another outfit. "Better?"

Shigaraki didn't absorb the colour of the suit until she angled his body into the light and he nearly disintegrated her on the spot. She sauntered out in a lovingly cut tuxedo, which was tolerable, but firstly: it was velvet. Secondly: it was the colour of wine. Burgundy.

How the hell had he ever thought this League was a good idea?

"Oohhh," said the others in unison. "Nice."

"Thanks." Himiko adjusted her - or his, rather - posture, slouching a bit and tilting the head down. He found her skills of observation terrifying and moved her further up his mental hitlist. "How about now?"

"It's very suave. It says, 'I'm a man of the world' but exudes a certain aloofness at the same time," opined Kurogiri thoughtfully.

"Kurogiri, I'm trying to take over the world, not seduce it."

Not-Shigaraki threw his hands up in exasperation. "You're so high maintenance for someone who can't even be bothered to brush his hair."

"Fuck you too, Toga."

"You could always go for the basic catsuit and personalize it," Spinner said hopefully. "Like Twice here did."

"Spinner," he said blandly, like there weren't fire ants crawling along his veins, "I want to distract the public with my villany, not the outline of my dick."

Jin frowned, confused. "But no one ever gets distracted by my suit?"

"Exactly."

Dabi stopped wheezing long enough to speak. "What's wrong with his current gear anyway?"

Shigaraki felt a surge of something like gratitude, but quickly tamped down on it before it got out of control. Everyone else looked at each other.

"Well," started Himiko slowly, "for one thing, it looks like yours."

They simultaneously looked down at their dark clothes. "Oh."

Irritation crackled along Shigaraki's spine. "So all this time, you could have played dress-up with him instead?"

They looked bewildered. "But Dabi looks cool," said Spinner, like that explained anything.

He gritted his teeth. "You're talking about a guy wearing a wife-beater under a half-assed jacket. Not that I care who beats their wives, but that shit should be illegal."

Dabi looked down at his tank and shrugged. Himiko shook his head. "No, no, Dabi's got the high collar and the stitching and whatever those braces are. Tomura has a hoodie. It's different. Also, have you seen his pecs?"

He had, actually. More than once. But that wasn't the point.

"I'm done here. Kurogiri, let's go."

The bartender sighed heavily and made to follow. Spinner flailed pathetically and made a very big mistake.

"Come on, at least try and be bit more like Stain!"

Shigaraki froze mid-step. The itching, which had subsided, came with a fury. Pure rage roiled off of him as he turned around.

Dabi rolled his eyes and slunk back to a safe distance. "Here we go."

The other villain shrunk back as Shigaraki loomed over him, the blackness of his clothes seeping into the atmosphere. Tomura's hair looked paler, his eyes a little crazier in contrast to the dark nothingness of his coat.

"Hey Kurogiri. This guy thinks I should be more like Stain. Me, of all people."

Kurogiri said nothing, apparently waiting for the inevitable. Spinner tried to melt into a puddle and failed.

"If he likes that talkative bastard so much, maybe I should help him out so they can see each other, huh?"

"Itsfineyouroutfitisgreatimsorry," Spinner squeaked.

"Really? Are you sure? You don't think the sneakers are too last year?"

"Nope, they're brilliant, can't believe I never noticed. That symbolic red and black, truly a stroke of genius."

"Damn right they are." He pressed one foot into the lizard-man's face. "Here, take a closer look."

"They're amazing," gasped Spinner. "Just fabulous."

"That's right. You know why? It's because I'm fabulous. Aren't I, Jin?"

Twice nodded exuberantly. "You're like God, Beyoncé and chocolate rolled into one."

"Right. I'm going to walk out of here now and all of you will give fervent thanks that you get to see this fabulous ass that is perfectly fine the way it is. Kurogiri."

And then Shigaraki tossed his coat around his shoulders and walked into the warp door.

#boku no hero academia #crack #one shot #league of villains #shigaraki tomura #toga himiko #kurogiri #spinner #twice #dabi #sass #dress up #nonsense #strong language #sort of

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recentanimenews · 3 years

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OPINION: Sports That Deserve to be Featured in Anime

People often ask me the question: Which anime are you most excited for this year? 2021’s slate of anime has made that a very hard question to answer indeed. Is it the second season of my favorite slice-of-life anime Laid-Back Camp? Or is it the return of my favorite anime film director Mamoru Hosoda and his upcoming feature film Belle? Amid such illustrious names, it is easy for a less-heralded sports anime to go under the radar. But this particular one is special, and to say I am excited for it would be an understatement.

The announcement of an anime adaptation of Burning Kabaddi sent me and most Indian anime fans into raptures. For those who don’t know, kabaddi is a contact team sport played largely in South Asia, where the aim is for one player to touch as many members of the opposing team as possible without getting caught — and by “caught,” I mean getting unceremoniously thrown to the ground like a ragdoll. It’s like a mix of tag and wrestling. Here in India, the sport is taken very seriously, with the Pro Kabaddi League representing the highest level of competition. So to have Japan, a nation where the sport doesn’t have much of a following, produce an anime (the favorite medium of so many people here) about the sport came as a very pleasant surprise that touched the hearts of many anime fans here. It goes to show how the simple act of representing a culturally unique activity can have a far-reaching impact.

More than that, it illustrates an important aspect of sports anime: they can get us excited about sports we don’t know or care about in real life. My lack of knowledge about mahjong didn’t stop me from enjoying Akagi; on the contrary, I was inspired to (unsuccessfully) try and learn the game myself. Similarly, all Haikyu!! fans I’ve met have had one thing in common: they don’t watch real-life volleyball. It doesn’t matter whether you like the sport or not. Good visual direction and entertaining characters can keep you fully engaged. This makes anime the perfect medium to explore more obscure or underrepresented sports, like the earlier example of kabaddi. Let’s look at a few more underrepresented sports I’d personally love to see in anime form.

Fencing

Love Live! characters promoting fencing

Japan is no stranger to fencing; after all, the men’s foil team took home silver at the 2012 London Olympics. Yet there is no fencing anime, and no notable fencing manga I can think of either. In fact, this seems to be a problem that extends outside Japan: there is little fencing-related media in general. The one notable example that comes to mind is CS Pacat’s graphic novel series Fence (which incidentally seems to have a lot of manga/anime inspiration).

This is kind of a missed opportunity, I feel. Anime always does a great job when it comes to animating swordplay. Who can forget the epic final battle of Sword of the Stranger, or the internet-breaking moment that was Demon Slayer Episode 19? The choreography, the expression of speed and weight, the soundtrack — all of these combine to create a memorable spectacle. And fencing is little more than a refined form of sword dueling. It is a sport almost tailor-made for anime.

Beach Soccer

Image via DAYS

Soccer is quite well-represented in anime. Classic soccer anime like Captain Tsubasa have inspired people, both inside and outside Japan, to take up the sport. But traditional soccer isn’t the only way to play the game. For instance, beach soccer. Beach soccer is not simply soccer played at the beach. In many ways, beach soccer is the antithesis of soccer. A neat, one-touch passing move? A staple of traditional soccer, but near impossible on the treacherous surface of the sand. An overhead “bicycle” kick? Rare in traditional soccer, but happens all the time in beach soccer. Traditional soccer is a team game, beach soccer is all about individual skill. The differences go on.

In my opinion, these differences make beach soccer better suited for anime than traditional soccer, despite the latter being my favorite sport. Overall movement, both of the players and of the ball, is slower, which makes it easier to animate. The increased frequency of goals and the focus on individual flair makes it an attractive spectacle even to those who are not into soccer. And hey, when every episode is a beach episode, you’re in for a good time!

Equestrian Sports

Image via Umamusume: Pretty Derby

I’m cheating now since this is a broad category of sports rather than a single one, but whatever. Equestrian sports range from standard horse racing to Olympic disciplines like show jumping, to other forms like combined driving and rodeo. The formula is common: a horse and its rider must complete challenges. Training horses to do so is no small feat.

You know what else is no small feat? Animating horses. Animals, in general, are a challenge to depict in motion, and horses particularly so, with their elongated body proportions and fluid movement. The go-to approach to animating horses in motion is to model them in 3D CGI, as seen in the likes of Attack on Titan. It’s a challenge I’d like to see a studio like Studio Orange tackle, with their successful rendering of animal shapes and textures in 3D CGI for Beastars. Why do I want to see an equestrian sports anime? I think the bond between human and animal is not something we often see in the medium. Seeing both rider and horse, as equals, work together to improve themselves, can make for an inspiring experience. It would be an interesting and unique character dynamic.

Cricket

Image via HIDIVE

Princess Principal is an anime I hold close to my heart. I love the steampunk setting and the fun and lovable characters. I love how it does not shy away from heavy topics, yet never turns into an edgefest. But most of all, I love it for one particular scene, in which Chise describes her daily routine at the school. The topic turns to sports. When I saw what sport they were playing, I let out a loud cheer.

I have a complicated love-hate relationship with cricket. I was once a very dedicated fan, before falling out of love with the sport in recent years. These days, outside of a cursory glance or two at newspaper scorecards, I do not follow the sport at all. Despite all this, a cricket anime would mean the world to me. Not just to me, but to many anime fans from this part of the world. To say cricket is the most popular sport in South Asia would be underplaying its popularity. Even outside of the region, cricket has its fans — in Australia, in New Zealand, in the UK, in the Caribbean, and in South Africa. But in South Asia, the sport takes on a different form altogether. People from all walks of life huddled in front of a TV screen watching their larger-than-life idols play the familiar game that we all grew up playing on roadsides, completely losing their minds when a player hits a six or a bowler takes a wicket — that is the essence of cricket. That is what I fell in love with. And it will take an anime that captures that for me to be able to fall in love with the sport all over again.

Which sport would you like to see as an anime? Let us know in the comments below!

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: Manas B. Sharma

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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zebraslovescupcakestoo · 6 years

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Golden eyes chapter 1

It was a lovely late night for a burglary. I was in one of the Grande Hotel Riche's suite for investigation which the crime took place that evening. The room itself was one of those that looked like a Victorian style and a bit of modern for convenience. I glanced at the window before I turned to my colleague. “Woody, my dear fellow, I think we can inform the Countess that we found out how the Lavender Pearls were stolen and by whom.” My friend looked at me dumbfounded. “Did ja really solved the theft case that easily, Felix? Cause the Chief will be flying off the handle at ya if you screw this up, ESPECIALLY when it comes to important guests like royalty.” “Yes I do understand, but I assure you, it's a bit unbelievable if I told you who are the culprits.”

Before he asked, our Chief came to visit, along with our robbed victim, Countess Violette. My Chief, Inspector Hank Blake, was my 40-something years old boss. The man's got brown eyes, a small, short, french moustache and has a few wrinkles in his face. He had a old fashioned bowler hat with a black ribbon and a stripped beige vest and brown pants. The Countess Viollette, was probably in her late 20's, wavy, brown hair and green eyes. Did I forgot to mention she's obsessed with that colour purple? Her entire outfit, Vest, skirt, hat, glove and all just screamed that message. “Ah! Felix, my good men! I knew you were always on a crime scene for personal reason but I'm surprised it doesn't involve the mafia this time.” He pronounced. “You look quite the charmer, better than what Mr. Inspector described, and here! Even Lilly adore you!” Countess Violette complimented.

I blankly glanced at the dog, a Beagle to be precised, was wagging her tail and tried to climb on me. I REALLY can't explain why, but most dogs are friendly to me and I'm not really a dog person.

“Down Lilly! Please! Do not disturb the man!” The woman ordered.

“No harm for a friendly dog, Milady, and for the burglary, I may have a plausible, yet unbelievable answer and our culprits identity.”I told her. “Well?” My chief asked.

“How about we start at the beginning so we can all be at the same page.” I suggested and my hand gestured at the empty glass case. We all stand in front of the case with a small hole on top of the glass case. “It was at 7:40 pm when our Countess was worried about her Beagle when she noticed her companion started barking in the lobby and rushed through the stairway. She was frantic at the door of this room and you hear an odd pitch and then a shattering sound, correct?”

The countess replied. “Yes, I called immediately the room services as I was rushing down. The manager has the spare key while I had my own, but I was terrified to unlock alone and when we opened the door, there was a broken window and the glass case with a circle cut right where my Lavender Pearls were.... It was a very lovely light shade of purple and I do love that colour very so...”

“Yeah, your belongings explained to us very well-oof!” Woody replied with an elbow 'bump' by the chief and a cough followed. “Please continue, Felix.” He ordered.

“R-right, umm... During that time you explained, our thief had a diamond on him to cut opened that glass panel and if you looked closely at the broken-window...” I jested with my left hand. “You can see a crescent-like line at the left side of the frame. It was almost unnoticeable until I saw a bit unusual. Normally, the cracked glass on the right are all straight or zig-zaged. But on the left, only a crescent line mark.”

Woody says with amazement. “Woah! You're right. Anybody would just assume it was just a break in with all of those cracks and totally missed THAT particular one.”

The Countess was excited. “Oooh! It's like one of those Nancy Drew books I read back in my private school for lecture classes!”

The chief looked at me with annoyance. “Continue, Please.” he replied.

I resumed. “Now speaking of which, I believed that there was where our second fellow waited for that diversion.”

“Wait a second, you telling us it's just a distraction?” Woody questioned and the chief followed. “And for what reason? Unless he's furious enough that he couldn't enter the same way as his partner did so he forced in the window-.”

I gave them my score. “One point for Woody, nil for our chief.” My chief raised an eye brow out of confusion. “I beg your pardon?”

Here's why: “My friend here was correct about that diversion of making us think it was a 'forced' robbery, but more of a cunning strategy for a clean getaway. As for the second , it wasn't that his partner wanted to enter the room, as I explained.”

Now he's baffled. “Then HOW did our thief entered this room, then? The windows were locked from the insides and the only entry was from that door. There was only two keys. The manager's and the Lady herself. Both had it on them when the time it took place.”

I bet you never did any field work at my age... “Is that so? I asked the owner of this establishment and he confirmed the was three keys. Both are exactly where you described and the third one is with the cleaning maid on duty tonight.”

Woody spoke. “So it's the-” “No, she's innocent. Our female police officers were in charge of rummaging woman’s personal for privacy. They detected no jewelry and she had an alibi. Our thieving character was using their staff's cleaning schedule for his and his partner’s advantage. Earlier that day, the lady opened the key to this room for cleaning in the afternoon. Our thief was hiding close to her and when she when inside, he snuck in and quietly wait for her to finish her duties and locked the door.” I clarified.

Our Countess was having fun, despite the situation. “Astounding! How did he do it without being noticed?”

My chief sighed. “I'd say it's impossible. Even if he was small and an acrobatic, no human can do it without being detected!”

Heh! I think he hit the jackpot for once! “Perfect score, because he's NOT a human.”

Woody stared at me like I said something stupid. “Say what?” “Like the chief said, no human can accomplish this task even he's as small as a child. Unless-”

“A... monkey? Maybe?” Our countess thought. “Bravo, Countess. Your thief is indeed a trained monkey, to be more precised, a golden lion tamarin from Central America.” Thank God for those trips at the zoo. But the chief glared at me and said. “Preposterous! Is there any evidence to support your theory?”

I can do that only better. “There is and there's his long orange hair behind that flower pot in the corner over there. If my theory is corrected, our friend was hiding there until the evening. His accomplice gave him the signal, a high frequency whistle alerted him and at the same time, your dog. While he was cutting out the glass case that contained the necklace, the dog was alerting at the door. Once he attained the necklace the attempted to go out the window, but the accomplice thought other wise. He whistle again and this time,the thief hid on top of the chandelier, as suggested, there a couple of missing candles, is there not?”

We look up to the decoration, for conformation. “Then, our accomplice bust through the window without entering. Giving the impression it was a 'break in' and as the staff arrived, it was during the confusion that our agile little thief makes a quick getaway through the door that was locked.”

The Chief questioned still. “But Felix, how DID anyone, let alone in Chicago, gets a trained monkey?”

I turned to the Countess for the answer. “Milady, did you visit a Chinese circus during your stay? And was there cute animals?” “Why yes!” she exclaimed with delight. “ There was a fascinating show with animals, including the darling monkeys. Some of them with an orange fur on their back with cute little vests.” Woody then smack a fist on his hand, indicating he's got the point. “So our culprit at that circus! Shall we have an arrest warrant, Sir?” The chief admitted his defeat. “I still doubt it's possible, but I'll have my trusted men to look with you. As for Felix, I think you might needed some rest. I did promised you off tomorrow until this incident occurred. You wanted to see your nephews right?”

I nodded. “That is correct. I did promised to attend their soccer practice in the afternoon, and I hardly have any time for them. I'd really like to spend time with them.” He nodded in return. “I understand. We'll take things from here and I'll call you when something's up.” “Thank you, chief and don't worry milady, we shall do our very best to find your necklace.”

“I am pleased and despite the event, I feel much better.” She said. Afterwards, I exited the room.

While I walk out from the Grande Hotel Riche to report at the police station, let me introduce myself. My name is Felix, Felix Lockheart. I'm a detective here in Chicago. My mission is to put a end to this endless mafia crime spree for the innocence and victims. Ha! I sounded like a superhero there, right? Anyways.....

This is the third robbery that involves necklaces.

Just to recap from my notebook; The first was the case of the Emerald Snake. It was one of those streets where the new wealthy people rent their luxurious homes. That place looks like a small version of a mansion. That a bit unusual to me because the scene of the crime is much too tidy and there was no sign of force or pick-lock entry, even on the glass case itself, no sign of any kind. The robbed victim was Mr. Julian Vermelho. A well, successful business man who deals in the fresh fruits and vegetables, including transports of exotic plants, several flowers and herbs shops on the public image. The man was from a south American continent that I forgot the name to. He had the Latin gentlemen look: A boater hat, with a green ribbon. A forest green buttoned shirt underneath a lime green shirt and a very dark green pants. His skin was tan and he had slick, wavy black hair, a small mustache, brown eyes and boy oh boy did I ever see so many green than a whole vegetable chart in my life. Apart for Mr. Vermelho, there was only the butler, the housemaid, and the rottweiler whom was chained in his corner, both are telling the truth of where they were in the kitchen at the time of the crime....

The second case is the Snowflake Diamonds. It didn't took long to find his address, considering it was only a few houses away. It was a very white mansion and it looked like a castle from those fairy tale except the garden was a bit neglected. This time it was a forced entry with an entrance that looked like someone ram a car through and judging by the glass case, it has seen better days. The second Business man who was a CEO from that big company, the WHITE A.C.M.E,. is Mr. Blancheur. He had partially bald head which he keep underneath a white wig, and like the others, he had white all over his clothes and his house. THAT guy is a real piece of work! That 67 year old cotton swab was one of those cranky grandpas who over react on a tiny spec of common mistakes. He wasn't co-operating, he's very stingy of how we should investigate without touching. Obviously, did anyone mention him at least once that white things can easily be stained? This time it was a forced entry and judging by the glass case, it has seen better days. There was no glass left untouched and presumably by a very large thug and he might have been in a hurry. Afterwards, he demanded to speak to the chief for the money. Anyone care to guess who was the 'lucky' soul that had to deal with him and my chief? That right, THIS unlucky black cat! It was a nightmare to defused those two. The only thanks I got was from his white little poodle, Marcel.

But apart from the theft, they all had similar ties to that special exhibition for that jewelry show Kitiana, my girlfriend, really wanted to see at the end of the month.

Next to that, all three were competing at the dog show held in next weekend. I really don't think there's something worth noting but just in case, I marked it down if something comes up. I yawned after I finished writing that note. I should really get home otherwise I might accidentally take a cat nap in the middle of the game.

It was a bright day for a good soccer game at the school. I was in the good upper part of the spectators area that I can see my nephews. It's a bit of a long story, but I'm their guardian uncle who's taking care of them after a tragic accident that happened to my father. I wish I can tell you more of that but now is not the time. OH THERE IT GOES- “GOOOOOAL!!!” I can't believe it! My nephews won the game! Inky was the good player and Winky was the goalie. I guess they take it after me when I was at their age. I used to be a pretty darn good soccer player back in middle school and high school. At least until that faithful day... No no, Felix there was nothing you can do at that time. I need to be there for my nephews. I was very proud until something just had to show up of all days. A fancy black Cadillac pulled up from the parking lot indicates it's for a very special guest with whom I can guess from this familiar chauffeur.... Bendy De Mon himself with Boris Wolfenstein. All my happy thoughts were gone in the thrash can whenever that demon shows up. Why? Cause I know he's the king of the Chicago mafias! I can't even lay a finger on him when he's out in public. According to my observation, he announced and giving out a donation support to the principle for the soccer team's upcoming tournament next month. 'It's just a facade for covering his “main” business.' My thoughts told me. Luckily for me, he was only there for a few minutes until he had to leave for his appointment with his animators. My nephews came up to me and says:

“Uncle! Uncle! Did ya heard? We're getting new uniforms!” Inky exclaimed. “I can't wait for our next soccer game! Can you teach us more, please?” Winky begged me.

I sighed in defeat, but at least these two tried to lift my spirit. “Alright, but don't forget to do your homework once we're home, and help me dry the dishes.” “OK!” They both replied.

“TOP OF THE AFTERNOON! How's my favorite jazz cats doing?” Woody surprised us from behind he. “Uncle Woody!” They said in fusion.

I turned and glanced at my colleague and friend, Woody McPecker. He was my first friend when I started working at the police force. I can always count on him to keep a close eye on things when I'm working long hours. How he and I met well... That a story for another day... “So how's my favorite rascals doing? Staying out of trouble?” He asked them. “Uncle Woody! I did two goal!” Inky did a kicking pose. “And I blocked three!” Winky did a cross pose.

He chuckled a bit. “Sounds like yer uncle taught you well. If it was me, yall'd act like cows and be eatin' greens” We all laughed and played a bit. It was a great time for me to unwind until I go to work tomorrow....

And for good reason too.... The next day, Kitty barged in from my door and shoved this in my face----->>>

//// MISSING!!! FAMOUS SAPPHIRE COLLAR DISSAPERED OVERNIGHT! /////

It was highly printed on the front line of this morning newspaper in. Kitty was upset. “I can't believe anyone can steal such a lovely necklace!Not only that, but the others famous jewels too! I wanted to go there for our girls only date but now, the show will get cancelled!” I tried to sugar coat it. “Calm down, I'm pretty sure we can figure something else we can do.”

“But it's the second time we had to take a rain check! First it's the creeps at the docks for suspects in an investigation now this! Normally, I'd say let's leave this to someone else who's better suited for this field but now this time, I'm not letting this one slide! I told our chief we'd both go as soon as you start so I'll be waiting in the car. Wait too long and I'll put spicy onion sardines and hot peppers in your next lunch.” Saying so, she left the building in a furious yet determined attitude. I really can't win an argument with her... That was Kitiana Katarina, Kitty Kat for shorts. She's my girlfriend since high school. You can tell she's quite a gal! I hardly knew any other girl who can wear cute dresses and beat up five jocks when they couldn't stop hitting on her friends. Despite her tomboyish and headstrong attitude, she's actually a sweet, bubbly, caring person who's been there when I'm having a tough time. She's also staying with me and my nephews cause she doesn't have a place but I made sure she has a spare room at mine cause 1. I wanted to respect her privacy. 2. I want to set an good example and 3. I'm a gentlemen at heart. YES, GO AHEAD AND LAUGH ALL YOU WANT! Just because chivalry's on the life line, it doesn't mean it's dead. Without further delay, I REALLY need to get going...

We've arrived at the Chicago Art Gallery, where that jewelry exhibition was supposed to be held. My first thing to do was to investigate at the huge main room where all the historical and new sellers would display their goods along with a built-in stage for the show. Once there, Kitty told me she'll be gathering some information for others, so that will leaves me with the main famous necklace itself; The Sapphire Collar.

I started with the rectangular case itself. There was a large, well-shaped hole at the top which tell me that either it was a very large piece of jewelry or our robber has large hands. I saw a thrash can and something's fishy in that bin. I reached in and grabbed what appeared to be a red cloth with some substance. There's also a familiar mark at the bottom corner but I can't place my fingers where I've seen it before... I've decided to put it in my evidence bag for analysis later. I've examined the other cases that were opened but... To be honest, I've ruled out for a large-handed culprit... some has small holes and some are just for show. Either way, this guy likes to play a game for us! Next on my agenda was to talk to the owner of this gallery, Mr. William Babera, who was with Kitty. He looks like he's in his 60's, has grey hair slicked back, a short beard and mustache. He is almost the same height as I.

“Mr. William Babera, I assume?” I asked.

“Mr. Felix, I've heard a lot about your well known accomplishment. You make a fine example of a honest cop and ease our minds in this corrupted times.” He complimented me on our first impression? Hmmm...

“I thank you for the compliments but I cannot accomplish without help from my colleagues and friends. Tell me, can you describe me the night of the robbery? At the time from beginning to the end.” I might be over thinking it.

“From what I can get from the security cameras, there was a black out at 1 o'clock in the morning. There was no suspicious character around the building. I've only had my two security guards and a few of your own guarding inside and out for this special exhibition. I had both mine in the security office, one in the main hall, two for paroling the rest of the museum and two for outside. I believed that during the black out, the inside where all knocked out by sleeping gas that were cleverly disguised as toys. As there's proof in your lovely assistance possession.” He gestured at the unusual toys in a large bag. “Somehow, there were no sign of force entry or easy access. We locked them in and we only have tree keys to this place which only my Janitor, one of the officers, and myself.” He explained.

I put on my thinking cap. “Unusual, so during the black out, the toys released the knock out gas, and the culprit took his or her sweet time to take most of the jewelries, leaving a few and added some. Some of these holes are just for show.” “Your observation is quite correct.” He nodded.

“Mr. Babera, there's a question I wanted to ask. Why did they leave a few behind? Were they fake or they didn't like them?” That's a good question, Kitty. “Ah, it's a bit humiliating but the remaining pieces are actually fakes or copies. They are just for show and our 'visitor' might knew about them if they were still here.” He replied honestly.

Odd. Did our suspect knew in advance or can detect the authentic? I asked. “May I asked who are sponsoring this show?”

“That would be the famous Disney Inc. They wished to display their first new collection along with a variety of famous treasures like the Sapphire collar. I'm pretty sure the recent news of other famous necklaces that were robbed has reached to your ears.”

“My friend actually DID investigate these cases! How did you know?” She asked. “I read the newspapers, and his deduction were quite spot on even if it's a bit of talented ridiculousness solution.” He joked. I was not amused at the last part...

Kitty Giggles a bit. “So tell us, is there something special about the stolen necklaces or the Sapphire itself?”

“Ah, they all have a bit of history behind each stones which they will take a long time to tell all about them.” He said.

I decided to go with the main subject. “How about you tell us a bit about the Sapphire collar's history. I wanted to know more about it and why was it infamous.”

He then tells us. “The Sapphire was actually lend to us by China's representative. As for it's story, They told us that it was one of the archaeologist fellows who found it in a secret tomb during an excavation. It was just an unusual but a lovely piece of jewelry made for an empress, until it changes color when it was day or night. It's stones looked like any other ordinary sapphires in daylight, but it changes into a crimson red in the moonlight. Historians are still not sure it's origins, but it was such a discovery, even just the change of colors, it draws attention to anybody. To this day, no other jewelry or gemstones can out shine nor came close to this unique piece even after a decade has passed. But now it is lost to a scoundrel. I believed that the necklace was worth at least five hundred thousands US dollars. Maybe it was the usual greed motive.” He then sighed.

“No need to be so glum, we shall do our best to find this missing Sapphire and plausibly the others.” I tried to assured.

“I do hope so, the exhibition will be delayed until at least the sapphire collar and most of the missing jewels are found.” He told us.

“Please rest assured that we will find them!” She added with a thumb up and the most cutest wink and tong out face. I so wanna cuddle her right now! No. Not now Felix, you're at work. I cleared my throat and say our goodbyes.

As we walked out of the place, I staggered a bit and Kitty replied “Felix! Are you alright? You looked pale.”

Yikes! “Please don't worry. I just feel light headed a bit from being-”

“FEEEEEEEEEELIX! KIIIIIIIIIITY! I GOT AN EMERGENCY FROM THE CHIEF!!!” We glanced in surprised when Woody was ridding his bicycle at full speed. It was fortunate he didn't tear up the road at that speed. “What's wrong?” Kitty asked, worried.

GAAAAAAASP! “DOG!” BREATHE “COUNTESS!” BREATHE “CHICKEN!”

My mind drew blank at the last one “.....what?”

Woody addressed himself once he catch his breath and said: “That Beagle dog of Count Violette gone missing!”

TO BE CONTINUED>>>> Chapter 2

This is my first FanFiction.

I was inspired by Marini4′s Doushinji of Bendy before the Ink machine.

I wanted to write a parallel universe with Felix as the protagonist about a story before the ‘main’ one begins.

There will be cross overs here and there so I hope you’ll enjoy a little story.

BBTIM characters belongs to Marini4

#be #bendy before the ink machine #Bendy and the Ink Machine #bendy #Felix The Cat #Felix #humanized #marini4

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junker-town · 4 years

Text

Mekhi Becton isn’t a finished product, but his NFL potential is massive

Mekhi Becton will be one of the first tackles taken in the 2020 NFL Draft.

Retired defensive end Stephen White is excited about what kind of OL Mekhi Becton can be in the NFL.

There are some memories that just pop up into my head for no apparent reason. In particular, when I watch tape to do these draft breakdowns, I often look at these young prospects and see older players who came before them. The problem is I can’t always place who exactly is their on-the-field doppelgänger.

But sometimes I can.

Such was the case when I was watching Louisville left tackle Mekhi Becton’s tape. I am not sure what the correct word to use when discussing a man who is 6’7 and over 360 pounds, but I’m going to go with “massive” for the moment, although that doesn’t quite do his stature justice. But believe me, if his size was Becton’s only redeeming quality, I probably wouldn’t be writing this breakdown about him.

It is almost impossible to describe some of the things Becton did on the field. I could try to stuff this column full of plays instead, and it still wouldn’t be enough to give you an accurate feel for how he dominated other young men as if he were that kid in little league everybody was sure had a fake birth certificate.

As I sat there watching with my mouth open in amazement, I kept thinking I don’t remember ever seeing an offensive lineman completely obliterate his opposition on such a regular basis since I have been doing these breakdowns. Mind you, these were four games against top-notch competition — including the Clemson Tigers, who were the defending national champions at the time and made it back to the title game later in the season.

Notice I am not talking about him being the ”best” offensive lineman I have ever seen. Becton still has some work to do technique-wise, which I will get to later. But for now, I’m talking about physically driving DI football players off the ball and down the field in every single one of those games.

This guy was consistently knocking edge players off the ball with just his initial punch — with arms over 35.5 inches long. And then it finally came to me who Becton reminded me of, at least based on gossip: Hall of Fame left tackle Willie Roaf.

As far as I can recall, I never actually watched Roaf’s Louisiana Tech tape. However, the game he had against a stacked Alabama team that ended up winning the national championship in 1992 became a thing of legend. That Crimson Tide team had two standout defensive linemen in John Copeland and Eric Curry (whom I eventually played with in Tampa). I actually googled to make sure I wasn’t remembering this wrong, and sure enough there are a bunch of articles about how Roaf kicked both of their asses that day on the way to vaulting himself up draft boards.

To put into context, just ask yourself when has any other offensive lineman ever had a game so memorable that people could recall it almost 30 years later?

Becton didn’t quite have a game quite that outstanding of the four I watched. But what I saw him do, the way cats went flying backward on contact, was also the stuff people will be remembering for years down the road.

What Becton does well: Drive defenders back

I had to come up with a new stat for Becton in the middle of watching his tape. He was so good at getting up on the second level, I started counting how many times he was able to drive linebackers far enough downfield that they ended up off the screen.

Five times.

That number doesn’t even include the plays where he didn’t quite get them off the screen. Believe me, there were plenty of those as well!

What was funny to me about Becton’s tape is half the time he looked like Baby Huey out there, just dumping guys on the ground as if he didn’t know his own strength. He was mashing dudes out simply because he could, but he rarely even looked like he was playing with an edge. And I say that because I did see him appear to get visibly pissed off a couple of times, and the blocks that followed ... let’s just say there was a marked difference in those pancakes versus the rest of them.

To be clear, I’m not saying that as a knock on Becton. He is plenty dominant enough without having to go overboard with it, which is impressive in its own right. I just want to note that if he ever did start playing with a little more of a salty demeanor regularly, they might have to end up scraping his opponent up off the field.

Where Becton can improve: Pass protection

Having said all that, I also have to acknowledge that if a team plans on playing Becton at tackle, he has some real issues as a pass protector right now. He wasn’t “bad” at it, mostly because he’s so big it looked like he intimidated some of the guys he was going against into not really making moves.

However, when the edge rushers didn’t fear him and tried to beat him with some kind of rush around the edge, for instance, Becton would bail out of his back pedal in a way that allowed him to keep them from getting to the edge. That would also leave him vulnerable to an inside counter move.

Losing on an inside counter after trying to catch up to a speed rusher happened a few too many times for me to believe it won’t be an issue for him in the NFL. And the truth is trying to carry his weight on a frame that tall might fundamentally make it hard for him to react to those counter moves no matter how much better he gets technique-wise. If he can’t fix it, then it’s very likely Becton will either have to lose some weight or have to move inside.

If he can keep most, if not all, of his strength and power at a little lower weight, I don’t see a downside to him dropping a few pounds anyway. At the same time, losing weight isn’t a guarantee his lateral change of direction will improve enough for him to be trusted at left tackle, either.

On another note, for as big and as strong as Becton is, he got pushed back on a few power rushes more than I expected to see. That, too, is probably a technique issue, but it’s something worth keeping in mind. He definitely looks a lot more comfortable coming forward to run block than he does going back to pass set. He also doesn’t switch up his punch, which makes it easy to time. That is another reason why I would have concerns about throwing him out there at left tackle right off the bat.

Personally, I’d put Becton on that Larry Allen program right off the bat anyway and stick him inside at guard, at least initially. That would help to hide some of his pass protection issues and also allow him to be more aggressive at the line of scrimmage. I’m having visions of Becton jump-setting a three-technique on play action and pancaking him.

You would be too if you had already seen his tape.

I would have more confidence in Becton playing right away inside as well because you can always have the center slide his way a little more than usual if he needs help in pass protection. Teams don’t seem to send chip blocks to help offensive tackles nearly as much as they used to (or need to), though. Becton is also as wide as a damn tractor trailer, so just trying to get around him on the interior would be one hell of a chore for most interior pass rushers, whether his technique improved dramatically or not.

I didn’t get to see Becton pull at all in four games, but considering the athleticism, quickness, and speed he showed blocking downfield on screens, I have every confidence pulling wouldn’t be a problem for him at all. In fact, I could see him crushing fools on all manner of counter plays like it’s nothing.

I did see Becton whiff a few times when he had to run a little too far down the field before he made contact, but I’m not sure some smaller offensive linemen could’ve made those blocks either. His incredible day at the combine and his tape says he is more than athletic enough to do anything you could want a guard to do. It’s just a matter of sticking him in there and letting him take his lumps for a while until he gets it. I don’t think it will take too long.

Once Becton gets used to the speed of the game, and if his technique improves enough, then maybe I stick him out at left or right tackle and see what he can do. Or maybe you find out he is such an asset inside that you just keep him there and let him tee off and destroy people at guard for the next decade. Think a bigger, stronger, not quite as technically sound Quenton Nelson. I don’t know if Becton will ever be the pass protector Nelson is, but I’d love to see him try.

Becton’s NFL future: Pro Bowler, at least

He is far from a finished product, but the talent Becton showed on tape is enough to see he can be a special player with a little bit of work. If you have a coaching staff that can’t get him to play up to a Pro Bowl level at least, you probably just need a new coaching staff, or at minimum a new offensive line coach.

I mean, even when his technique isn’t great, Becton can still rock bottom his guy to the ground. If you aren’t willing to take a chance on a guy like that, then you and I are not the same.

I’m not usually one to get goofy over potential, but Becton is such a singular prospect that it’s hard not to become enamored with who he could become. I don’t know that he will end up wearing a gold jacket like Roaf ultimately did, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it happened.

All things being equal, he looks like a top-10 pick in the draft would look to me, and I’m not even sure he would last that long. We will see if NFL teams agree whenever the draft rolls around.

Be sure to check out my other scouting reports on Chase Young, Jerry Jeudy, Derrick Brown, Jedrick Wills Jr., A.J. Epenesa, CeeDee Lamb, and Javon Kinlaw.

For the purposes of this breakdown, I watched Becton play against Notre Dame, Boston College, Clemson, and Kentucky.

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mistystarshine · 7 years

Text

Make Me Live Chapter 3

Summary: Stand hunting counts as a sibling bonding activity, right?

Notes: I am SO SORRY for how long this took. I had some real life drama going on, including a sudden and unexpected move across the country. Have some rising action.

Wordcount: 3,019

Beta: @kousakukawajiri

She stayed at her brother’s house that night. Her mother didn’t have any problems with it and, by some miracle, didn’t ask too many questions. Shinobu’s usual over-excited and over-caring interrogation was something she was used to by now. As long as she didn’t get too specific, she didn’t have to blink an eye.

They got moving early in the morning. Much like the day before, she felt like she was trying to walk in shoes made out of lead, but thoughts of the errant stand pushed her onward. It’ll get easier after awhile, she told herself. It had better get easier after a while. They had agreed to do their search by foot to decrease the risk of missing something vital or getting in an accident if the giant road frog appeared again.

Yoriko was already regretting that choice and they were only five meters away from the apartment complex.

The bleary silence was shattered by Hayato asking, “you said you were with Shizuka when you saw it?”

She blinked up at him a few times as she slowly processed his words before nodding.

“Do you have her number in your phone?”

The nodding stopped. Slowly, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She knew what she would, or more precisely, wouldn’t find in there well enough that she didn’t bother turning it on. “No… I, well, I didn’t think to ask.” The corners of her lips puckered and her gaze slowly drifted downward. If she turned on that phone, she would find a total of four contacts. They were Takuma, her mother, her brother, and emergency services. There was also the ‘daily trivia’ app that texted her, but that didn’t really count.

“I see.” Hayato didn’t sound like he thought that was very odd. Then again, it probably wasn’t from his perspective. “We’ll search by ourselves for now then. If we think we need to, I can call Josuke later.”

That wasn’t enough to satisfy Yoriko. Even knowing that her older brother should know her well enough not to expect anything great from her contacts, she couldn’t help but feel like she had failed in some way. Her lack of social connections had failed them. “I could ask Takuma to help, if he has already finished his weekend work,” she offered.

Hayato looked at her in confusion. “He doesn’t know about stands, does he?”

“No,” she said, “but we could think of something to tell him. He doesn’t really think about the ‘cause’, only the ‘effect’ and how to improve it.”

The sound that her brother made was simultaneously dismissive and frustrated. When combined with the way he narrowed his eyes, she knew the answer before he even said anything. “No, don’t call Fujita. We don’t… need… that.”

She sighed and allowed herself to look across the street. There weren’t any ghosts, but she also didn’t feel like looking at Hayato when she said, “I don’t know what you have against him.”

Now it was his turn to sigh. Well, sort of. She had noticed that his sighs tended to be the quiet, barely-there kind; like he was afraid to let anyone know what he was really thinking. “You have too much faith in people.”

Her steps almost faltered at his words. What’s that supposed to mean? It was fairly obvious to her that he didn’t trust Takuma, but why? He hadn’t done anything to earn that distrust. Was he because he was her friend? Did willingly spending time with her automatically qualify someone as weird and suspicious, even in the eyes of her own brother? It could just be because Hayato was a distrusting person, but he’d known Takuma for years by now. Short of being deeply mentally imbalanced, which he couldn’t have hidden for her for that long, or having endured a deeply traumatic experience, which she knew he hadn’t, she couldn’t think of any other reason to be suspicious of someone for so long.

That idea… she didn’t know how to feel about that. On one hand, he wouldn’t have made it clear that he didn’t trust Takuma if he didn’t clear about her. On the other hand… did he see her as a freak, too? Even though he knew about stands? He’d always looked at her weird. It was more common when she was little, but there were still times when…

Yoriko grabbed her forearm with her other hand to keep both of them from shaking. She quickly folded her arms to keep the original movement from being seen for what it was. “Maybe you just need to have more faith in people,” she finally said. Without waiting for a response, she picked up the pace and started walking ahead. Another one of those barely-there-sighs was faintly heard behind her.

They walked to the end of the block in silence. At that point, they crossed the street and continued on for three more. That was where she saw him.

“Oh.” A frown tugged at the corners of her lips. She never quite knew how to deal with this particular ghost. He wasn’t troublesome. In fact, he was even helpful from time to time. The thing was that there was something about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. There was something that drew her to him. There was something else, too. Something that sent a shiver up her spine and made her feel like Reaper was trying to pop out without permission again. It was like it was trying to say something.

If only she knew whether it was trying to say ‘he is important to you’ or ‘beware’.

Her brother’s feet came to a halt soon after hers. “What is it?” he asked.

“Just a ghost,” Yoriko murmured. ‘Just a ghost,’ because she knew that Hayato wasn’t particularly comfortable with the shenanigans surrounding stands and their users, no matter how hard he tried to push himself through. She didn’t describe the ghost’s blonde hair, bowler hat, or peculiar tie. She especially didn’t mention the way his gaze lingered on him for a moment or think too hard about the way Hayato happened to stiffen up that exact moment.

It was a coincidence. It meant nothing. The chances of the amnesiac ghost having a tie with her brother were low, let alone her brother having a strong enough connection with a dead man to sense his presence. Besides, the ghost was nice. Pretty average aside from being an amnesiac ghost, but nice. It’s probably just the wind, she concluded. There was no reason to worry about the wind.

The ghost’s gaze slid over to her soon enough. He tilted his head curiously, probably noticing her thoughtful expression. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

“In a way.” Yoriko allowed herself to look at the area behind the ghost and raised a hand to run it through her hair.

This is going to sound weird, she thought. Then, I’m talking to a ghost. It was illogical for her to worry about something as bizarre as a ghost thinking that she was weird. She shouldn’t care about what it thought at all. Someone seeing her talking to the ghost was a different matter, but even then, the situation at hand was more important than her reputation. There wasn’t anyone anyway. Therefore, it didn’t matter. He had nothing to do with her in the grand scheme of things. There was nothing for her to worry about. There was...

There was an uncomfortable feeling churning in her stomach.

She forced herself to look the ghost in the eyes. “We’re looking for someone,” she said. “Someone who can summon a giant frog. A frog that I saw in my dreams. Have you seen anyone… do… that?”

Ridiculous. She sounded utterly ridiculous. However, the ghost appeared unphased beyond briefly furrowing his brow. “No. But I did see someone new to Morioh a few minutes ago. Something about her was… peculiar.” A look flashed across his face briefly, like he was reaching for something that had been pulled just out of reach. When the look passed, he pointed down a street. “Light brown skin, braided hair, slender hands… blue shirt.”

Yoriko opened her mouth, but no words came out. It wasn’t unusual for her not to know what to say, but it was usually because she didn’t know what was considered acceptable. This time, it was that look on the man’s face. ‘Peculiar’ was such a vague word. What was ‘peculiar’? Why did the way he said it set off warning bells in her mind when she had heard it many times before? She looked at Hayato for guidance and saw that he looked unsettled. His eyes were darting back and forth - paranoid?

A wave of guilt washed over her. Of course. He didn’t do well with things like this. She should have told him that she could search by herself, or at least not stopped to talk to a ghost.

She sucked in a quick breath before looking back at the ghost. “Thank you, I-”

Tap. Her eyes darted sharply to the left. Tap. A well-polished black shoe turned the corner. Tap. It was followed by the rest of the individual, a man with a black haze where his face should be.

He turned directly toward them.

“I have to go.” Without explanation, she grabbed Hayato’s hand and took off down the street the ghost had pointed at. Her brother made a surprised sound, but she carried on without acknowledging it, her fingers holding his in a death grip and her feet moving at a pace that was barely below a run.

After they had passed a block or so, she risked a glance over her shoulder. The faceless man was nowhere to be seen. With a relieved sigh, she dropped her hand back to her side and slowed to a normal walk. While her chest heaved to catch her breath, her brother asked, “what was that?”

An awkward laugh was forced out of her throat. “I got just got a little over excited.” Her voice cracked with her lie. She didn’t look at Hayato’s face to see if he had noticed. It was for the best. He didn’t do well with things like that. “The ghost I was talking to said that he saw a peculiar looking new person. We should look for a brown-skinned woman in a blue shirt with braided hair.”

Even though she didn’t look at him, she could feel his gaze boring into her. Her earlier guilt returned, this time accompanied by a starburst of shame. Although shame was a powerful emotion, her stand was not, to her knowledge, connected to her emotions. That didn’t stop her from flinching and wondering if it was some sort of tell when Don’t Fear the Reaper manifested out of nowhere.

When the stand appeared, Hayato started to look around. He finally stopped to look at what was, to him, an empty space by her right shoulder. Where her stand had appeared. “Reaper?” he asked.

She never could understand how he was able to do that.

“Yeah,” she murmured. As she spoke, shapes began to manifest in the mist swirling around the stand. A picture of Azami’s frowning face, firm and unwavering. A faint image of Sekiguchi Eiichi waving a faintly familiar younger boy aside before walking to his next class. A blackbird flying through the rain.

Yoriko shook her head and huffed. “Just more nonsense.” Azami wasn’t a stand user, she didn’t care about birds, and she didn’t know what her stand’s new fascination with Sekiguchi was, but she was not fond of it. No one wanted the weird girl eavesdropping on them.

“Are you sure?” he asked in a voice that all but oozed with skepticism.

“Yeah. It almost always is.” Because that was the nature of her stand - a useless and uncontrollable thing that liked to play probability roulette.

If he had something to say to that, he didn’t get the chance. A scream cut through the air. Yoriko, naturally, took off running toward it. She was almost too caught up in the way her heart started racing and horrible scenarios started flying through her head to appreciate the way her brother cursed before following. (Almost.)

The sight that greeted her made her try to stop dead in her tracks. Unfortunately, her momentum carried her forward several more paces, making the slathering dog that had Azami cornered against a fence turn its gaze toward her.

Whether or not the word ‘dog’ was appropriate was questionable. It was definitely a canine with a build similar to a domestic dog, but it was at least four feet at the shoulder. A mangy black pelt clung to its heavy frame. The foam covering its muzzle did little to hide the glistening white fangs so proudly displayed by its snarl.

There wasn’t much that Yoriko took pride in. Her mind was one of the few things that fell in that very small category. However, as it came prowling toward her, all thoughts vanished. Azami’s face was ashen and her expression terrified. She looked over her shoulder and saw that Reaper had disappeared. Hayato was running, but he was behind her and standless. That finally made something enter her mind, but rather than a plan, all she thought was, run away.

The dog started to run, which meant she only had a matter of seconds. She tensed her legs to (futilely) start running -

- and blinked when the dog was sent crashing to the ground out of nowhere.

It snapped in frustration for a moment before disappearing.

Silence filled the air. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Azami. Instead, she looked at the place where the dog had vanished before looking at Hayato when the sound of someone panting by her side alerted her to his presence. “Did you see it?” she whispered.

He nodded shakily. Her brow furrowed. Did that mean that if wasn’t a stand? How else could it have just disappeared? She didn’t hear anything thrashing around and wasn’t being invisibly attacked, so it had to be gone and not just invisible. “But how… maybe it’s meant to b-”

“What the hell!?” the enraged shriek cut off her train of thought. She reluctantly looked at Azami and was rewarded by the sight of an accusatory finger pointed her way. “What is wrong with you? Why does weird shit always happen when you’re around!?”

If she looked to her side, she would have seen Hayato bristling beside her. Instead, it was all she could do not to let herself stare at her feet. “I’m not-”

“Save it,” Aza- Yokoyama spat. “You can’t go around talking to yourself and telling people about their doom and then say you’re not involved when something like this happens. Maybe you’re a bad luck charm and a liar.”

Yoriko flinched. Hayato noticed the movement and growled, “watch your mouth.”

“Don’t,” she murmured.

Yokoyama snorted before walking forward. Her hands were shaking, but she still moved with more confidence than Yoriko ever could. “Get out of here before I tell Eiichi to call the cops.” With that, she opened the gate in the fence and strode in, shouldering Yoriko out of the way in the process.

Once she had entered the house, Shizuka Joestar faded into sight beside her. Her face was red and her hands were clenched into fists. More importantly, her clothes and hair were ruffled. Angry red scrapes marked her exposed knees. “I shouldda kicked the bitch when I had the chance,” she grumbled.

Yoriko’s eyes widened. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before choking out, “Shizuka - you…?”

The girl gave an uneasy chuckle and rubbed the back of her neck. “Well… I couldn’t let it eat you, could I?”

It felt like she should say something. Something not only meaningful but more meaningful than the traditional ‘thank you’. That was really reckless. No. That was a terrible thing to say to someone who just saved you, even if it was true. I didn’t know you could tackle. Also no. It was a pointless observation. Your hair looks nice like that. Fluffy. Also true, but it was an air-headed compliment that had little to do with what had just happened. She also didn’t know if she would take it as a compliment when ‘fresh out of a stand fight’ probably wasn’t the style she had been going for.

“Sekiguchi,” she blurted out.

Shizuka blinked. “What?”

“Azami said that she’d tell Eiichi to call the cops if I didn’t leave. She has to mean Sekiguchi Eiichi. Reaper showed me him yesterday and a little while ago. If he lives here…”

“So much for nonsense,” Hayato muttered.

Yoriko glanced at him, but she had to admit that he may be right. The odds of this being a coincidence somehow managed to be lower than the odds of her stand having shown her something useful for once. Still, she would have appreciated it if the warning about Azami came a little earlier.

“Do you think he could be the stand user?” Shizuka asked.

Yoriko shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense. Yokoyama… he likes her. They’re friends. He’s not… his life is not that bad. I don’t see why he would attack her, let alone set a giant frog loose in the street.” That was operating under the assumption that the dog was connected to the frog, but if they were unrelated… she didn’t think they were unrelated.

“Well, is there anyone who doesn’t like her?” she pressed. “Anyone who would be around here?”

“Lots of people, probably,” Yoriko murmured. “Or maybe not. Just the ones who…” Yokoyama Azami wasn’t overly aggressive toward most people. She had her web of friends, friends like Hirohito, Hairu, Gima, and Eiichi. They were people who tended to dislike and earn the dislike of the same people. The ones who didn’t have a web of friends to support them. Things like who they were related to didn’t matter.

Eiichi. The name meant, ‘excellent first son’.

Isolation and jealousy could be powerful motives.

#Make Me Live #Yoriko Kawajiri #jjba #jjba fanfic #chapter three is here! It is late but it is HERE #we get our first proper stand fight next chapter. are you excited?

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tophat-black · 7 years

Text

Blood on our Hands (cut)

The story of how Black Hat and Haylee met.

The uncut version

Bloody honeysuckle, blood, gore, suggestive, implied sex

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

The night was calm, the breeze soothing and comforting to the people in this familiar town, one would say it was home. Owls hooted, and people walked down pavements. Stray cats and dogs littered alleyways and laughs and chatter were heard in restaurants and outside coffee shops. Hummingbirds danced together as they flew over gardens, flying around honeysuckle and tulips. Yes, one would say this town would be a home for many, and soon....

It won't be.

Suddenly, an ear piercing shriek echoed from building to building, but it was cut short by a wet gurgling sound, followed by a splatter. A long, dark shadow stretched beyond the building, signalling the approach of whatever had just caused such a noise, the audible click of the shoes a dead giveaway. A man rounded the corner, his suit black with red trim, a matching tophat atop his head, tilted low to where only a vicious razor-toothed smile could be seen. His hand, torn through the glove, was elongated and tipped with unnaturally long claws dripping with fresh blood. The citizens nearby stared, wide-eyed and frozen in shock and fear. The man lifted his crimson hand in front of his face, a long, snakeline tongue slithering out to sample the liquid. He spoke, his voice low and gravelly, and despite how soft he spoke, everyone knew exactly what he said. "Run..." The chorus of screams that met him was only matched by the stampede of shoes down the concrete. He laughed with maniacal glee as he strode after them, seemingly in no hurry. He was here to enjoy himself.

As soon as the screams were heard, a woman gasped as she peaked out from her alleyway, a man heard gurgling and screaming right by her. "Ghkk- please- HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME--" He soon fell silent, aside from one last scream as this woman's hand dug into his chest, a disgusting wet sound was heard as she snatched the beating muscle from his chest. It was still beating for only a few seconds before it slowed to a halt. She soon stepped out with no issue, holding the heart as it was just a toy. She looked at the many people screaming and running. One went to her and asked for her help, but she chuckled and grabbed the stranger, slitting her delicate throat before allowing her to fall. To hear more screams from the city was pleasing, unlike her drug working field. You always have to keep your mouth shut. This woman looked for the source of the town's panic, only to see another creature in front of her. She stood with the heart in her hand, holding it up to show him she was there for the fun. Not just for business.

The man paused upon spotting her, noting how tall she seemed. Oh, right, and the heart in her hand. That too. "I see I'm not the only one having fun tonight." He smirked, flicking a few droplets of blood from his fingers. "Be sure to save some for me." He chuckled.

Haylee chuckled before stepping forward towards him. Her eye was so sadistic, yet so sweet and calming to the stranger she now has the pleasure of meeting. She set the heart in his hand before chuckling. "Of course, sir," She chuckled before grabbing a handgun from her boot, aiming at one man before shooting, then again.. and again. One after another, people were dying. Ugh, this got boring. She tossed the gun aside before sprinting, holding out a larger blade before taking a hard swing at a man, his head almost completely chopped off, only dangling by a small patch of skin and muscle. She laughed with glee and pleasure as she continued killing the innocents, blood splattering on her face and exposed chest. This was.. thrilling.

The man offered a simply twisted grin at the display. And, if he were honest, it was more than just a little exciting. "Don't have all the fun without me." He called, strolling along, slashing at anyone foolish enough to get too close. He even grabbed someone by the head, jaw opening wide enough to snap shut around it, effectively biting his head off.

When he pulled back, a fountain of blood spurt from the open neck, the being not seeming to mind as his nice suit was spattered with more blood.

"Aahh, it's good to have a day off once in awhile. Can't coop myself up all the time. After all, "all work and no play makes me a dull boy"." He approached the woman again, catching her arm as she swung back, but not roughly. He took the moment to tip his hat, revealing a matching bowler hat underneath. "They call me Black-Hat. And you are...?"

Haylee gasped as her arm was under the grasp of the man. She turned to look at him, a smirk on her lips, pulling him in before staring at him directly in the eye. "I am Haylee," she purred, "civilians call me The Killer Mama," She soon pulled back, finishing off one victim before gazing at him once more. She wore a corset, a leather jacket over it, along with shorts and leather boots. Now, this cute little outfit was drenched in the blood of the innocent.

The man almost seemed to purr when her gaze returned to him after her kill. "I must say, you're rather skilled with that weapon of yours...I've got a few toys of my own~" Suddenly, a barrage of weapons of varying size and lethality sprung from his back on flesh-like appendages, revealing to her the wide arsenal he possessed of his own body. "See anything you like?"

Haylee smirked at him before looking around. "How about the machete~?" She asked as she moved one arm around his shoulders.

The appendage lowered, a hand forming between the handle and the flesh, palm opening as he offered it to her. "Go nuts~"

Haylee looked at him for a moment, snatching the machete before leaning down to kiss his cheek. "Let's go have some fun," she purred at him before moving her finger along his jawline. She soon pulled away as she jogged off towards the people running, her slices sharp and neat, leaving some of the people sliced in half. She looked back at him before catching her bottom lip between her teeth. She loved this. She was quite sure he loved it too.

Black-Hat felt his black heart skip a beat as he watched her slice Humans in twain like hot butter. Admittedly, the kiss had caught him off-guard, but he pressed onward, only half aware he was biting his own lip. Where was she going? He didn't know, and frankly- He didn't care.

Haylee laughed as she stepped over the bodies, her feet pressing against the organs that littered the ground. There were not many left here now, so she waved him over. "Come handle the rest, darling~" she called before waving her machete, "or I'll do it for you~" She looked back as the people hid in alleyways and in now-empty buildings. She slowly moved over the bodies, her hips swaying slowly as she took each graceful step. She hummed low, the blade of the machete grinding against the stone street.

Black-Hat strode over, arm stretching into an enormous blade as he swiped across the people that were left. He cut them cleanly in half, fountains of blood spurting out of each half as they flailed and screamed. He wiped his finger along the blade, then offered it to the large one-eyed woman.

Haylee chuckled at him before leaning forward, her tongue grazing over the blood on his finger, before she licked the blood away, pulling away with a smirk before leaning in, her lips ghosting over his. She felt the blood on her body drip and run down her torso, moving one of her killer's hands towards her low-riding corset and partially exposed chest. How lovely.

The eldritch could feel his blood pumping faster, rushing to two places in particular. He growled, a shiver running up his spine, but he suppressed it.

"Feeling brave, are we? Not everyone is so bold as to try that with an eldritch horror..."

Haylee smirked at him before moving one hand lower at a very agonizing pace. "You think I, a killer cyclops, would care," She asked, slowly moving her lips closer, almost kissing the poor man. She chuckled as she continued to hear screams of pain and agony behind them. Oh, that was music to her ears.

"Mmm..." He rumbled, the noise rumbling low in his throat. "You should..." His teeth were large and sharp as he grinned, the image reminiscent of a giant piranha, and a million times more deadly. He barely even registered the world around him, too focused on what was happening between them. Suddenly, he grappled her closer, twisting his body around to dip her backwards, that grin ever present on his ashen face. "I really think you should~" He purred, leaning close, lips centimeters from hers. And then the ground rushed up to meet her back. He chuckled.

Haylee grunted as she hit the ground, before looking up at him. She laughed before getting up, dusting herself off. She smirked at him before looking at the wreck they caused, hearing some groans of weakened men and women.

"Oh, you tease," She laughed before nudging him softly, "You know.. I think we'll get along just fine, my bloody honeysuckle. I had lots of fun tonight." Soon, she turned towards him, "Maybe we could have more fun later."

Oh he certainly liked someone as murderously rambunctious as this. Plus she knew how to take a joke. However, the nickname gave him pause for thought. "Bloody...what?" He shook his head. "It was fun for me as well. And I certainly think we should do this again sometime." He offered a wink, though it looked like more of a blink, given his left eye was covered by a monocle.

Haylee smiled at him before she fixed her jacket, mostly the collar and then fixing her very messed up hair that was now stained with red blotches of blood. She grabbed him by his waist, kissing his cheek quickly. "We can get to know each other for a little while tonight. Your place or mine~?"

The villain chuckled, biting his lip once again. "I must say, I'm quite curious to see what sort of place you live in. Is it far from here?"

Haylee shook her head. "No, not far at all." She took his hand before walking away from the horrific scene of dead bodies and burning buildings. The house she lived at looked.. beautiful. It was a giant house as well. She grabbed her key before she looked back at him with a hum, "Just for me, make sure you stay quiet." Slowly, the door creaked open, and the house was silent. Good, the kids were asleep. Right at bedtime, too. She shut the door behind them both before setting her keys aside, then her jacket. Now, even for how dark it was, the corset was now in full view, and damn, wasn't it gorgeous. A maroon red and a violet red lace to tighten. She also had a tattoo on her upper back. It said "Mommy" with one heart on each side of the lovely word.

Black-Hat raised a long brow as he followed her inside, glancing at her corset with interest before returning his gaze higher. "Why would I need to be quiet?" Despite his question, he kept his voice low. Did she, perhaps, have some sort of vicious pet that would attack? The sentiment would have been for nothing, then, considering his healing factor.

Haylee was about to answer before a little cyclops child came out, holding a human heart plush. He rubbed his eye before looking up. "Mama..? I want a glass of water," He whined softly and tiredly, letting out a soft yawn. This was only one of them. Haylee looked back at Black Hat before gesturing to her child. "That's why."

Black-Hat's eyes widened. He took a step back, not having expected that. He'd never really had much taste for children...unless raw or roasted. Sometimes alive, but he wasn't picky. "I...see.....Are there...more?" He glanced over at her, brow raising again.

Haylee walked to the kitchen and fetched his child a small cup of water, giving it to the little boy. "Go back to bed, sweetheart," She whispered to him before kissing his cheek. The child nodded before walking back to his room he shared with his siblings. As Black Hat asked if there was more, she looked back, nodding. "Yes. In fact, there are thirteen more. They're heavy sleepers, unlike this one. He's the only light sleeper in this household."

If Black-Hat could have paled, he would have. "You have...fourteen children? How do you...take care of them all? Handle the screaming and crying and...everything else that comes in the package?" And he thought having one was bad enough...

Haylee smiled. "My oldest helps me out while I do my work," She replied with a hum, "And besides, even as babies, they don't complain about much." Soon, she held her hand out to him, a smirk on her lips. "Now come on, let's go to my bedroom."

He was about to respond to the "eldest" comment, but he seemed to perk at the offer of going to the bedroom. "The bedroom, already? My, you move fast~" He snickered, snaking his hand into hers and letting her lead the way.

------------------------------------------------Later---------------------------------------------------

The two lay sprawled on the bed, sheets twisted around them as they panted for air, sweat glistening on their bodies.

“Fuck...” The eldritch wheezed, trying to get his black heart to slow down.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, the eldritch groaning.

Haylee looked at Black Hat before slowly sitting up, legs trembling. "Yes?" "Mama... are you okay? I heard you screaming," Asked a toddler. The same one from before.

Black-Hat dragged his hand down his face, trying not to rip it off in the process with frustration. He hated kids. They were just...bundles of excess energy and breeding grounds for germs and disease. Not to mention how annoying and loud they were. At least when he was loud, it was for a reason....usually.

Haylee called back in return. "Yes, honey! I'm fine, go back to sleep." The child looked at the door and nodded. "I love you, Mama," He said before walking back to his room. Haylee leaned back with Black hat, holding him close. Silence filled the room. She looked down at him before nuzzling him.

The eldritch froze, thoughts halting as he attempted to process what was happening. "W...What...are you...doing?" He could feel her face brushing against him, and there was a part of him that actually...enjoyed it...but the rest of him was confused and uncertain.

Haylee looked at him before chuckling. She kissed his cheek before pulling him in. Cuddle times for the bloody villains.

He sat there a good twenty seconds trying to think, but came up with nothing. Eventually, he slowly raised his arms, movements hesitant, but soon his hands rested on her back. He felt heat rising to his face, darkening his cheekbones, but he ignored it. She couldn't see it from that angle anyway.

Soon, morning came, and the kids were chattering in the room. Haylee woke up by Black Hat, rubbing her eye as she groaned. She soon saw blood was all over her sheets, and she was almost naked. The woman realized, but chuckled as she knew she had no regrets. She grabbed her robe, looking at herself in mirror. Show off your cleavage. Mess with him. As she stepped out, she whistled loud enough for everyone to hear. "Breakfast," she called before walking down the steps. The kids soon came out of the room, moving towards the dining room.

Black-Hat, however, had remained asleep, limbs slightly sprawled and tangled in the blankets. He groaned at the whistle, slowly blinking awake and rubbing his head. Ugh...what happened? He felt...oddly more rested than usual, and in a bit of a better mood than usual. Because that was sure to last long. He made his way out of the room, double-checking that his fly was zipped and shifting his form so his suit looked as if it had just been washed, if still a little scraggly from sleeping in it. His tie was undone as well, though he didn't bother fixing it just yet. It was as he came down the steps the full realization of how many kids she had hit him. "Shit..." He mumbled.

One of the kids saw him, waving with his plushie in hand. "Hihi!" the child beamed. The doll he was holding was a little devil plushie. Another kid just looked at him, saluting to him. Others just ignored him. Haylee looked over at Black Hat with a hum before moving over to him. "Hey," She hummed to him, kissing his cheek. Some of the kids went "ewww", while some ignored it. Some kids already had their breakfast, just cereal and milk, while she was cooking for the others.

Black-Hat couldn't help the warmth that prodded his black little heart at the kiss. It was...nice. He looked over at the kids attempting to greet him, attempting not to look as disgusted as he felt. He really hated kids... He moved over closer to Haylee, much preferring her company to theirs. He looped his arms around her waist, smirking. He knew full well she was cooking, but couldn't help teasing a bit.

Haylee chuckled low, putting some scrambled eggs on a plate before setting two pieces of toast on the side. She set the plate aside, one child quick to snatch it to eat it.

The room was loud for the kids, but that was enough cover to have Haylee turn around and kiss Black Hat, an arm wrapping around him.

He growled lowly, biting her lip in response. He didn't like all the noise, but he supposed at least he wasn't the one having to live with it. When they parted, she could feel his fingers quickly goose her bottom before he let go, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Oh, fuck you," She growled at him playfully before making some more food.

As soon as a bus came, the kids with the cereal bowls grabbed their backpacks and went off. It was about 10 of the kids. "Bye, guys! I love y'all!" She shut the door behind them as they left, looking at the older kids. Two didn't have school anymore. "So.." One kid said before gazing over at Black Hat, who now had a plate in front of him. Steak and eggs.

The eldritch, glanced up at the kid, a long brow quirked. He hadn't expected any of the children to really address him as they ate. Perhaps because he was used to life at the manor. He waited quietly for a response, chewing his food as he did so.

"How did my mom feel?" The kid asked as he continued eating his own egg sandwich. Haylee paled, but one kid just snickered, looking away as he laughed.

Black-Hat was quiet for a moment. He swallowed his food before speaking, his tone gravelly, but attempting not to be threatening. At least not in front of Haylee... "About what?"

"I knew what you two were doing. My mom was screaming, and I could hear pounding on the wall while I was fuckin' downstairs. How did my mom feel?" "Kevin," Haylee hissed before one of the other kids fell out of his chair, laughing and wheezing.

Black-Hat let another moment of silence pass, then spoke again. "I think, with those observations in mind, you've answered your own question." And with that, he continued eating casually as if nothing had happened.

Kevin paled before his brother continued laughing. "OH MY GOD," He wheezed. Soon, Haylee smiled at Black Hat, shrugging.

A few minutes later, they were off to do their own jobs. Haylee moved into the dining room, sitting by him and smirking. "Sorry about my kids. They get a little invasive."

Black-Hat shook his head. "Don't' worry about it. I've been around long enough to know how to handle nosey parkers." His arm snaked around her waist, gripping her hip. "However...I must admit...in all my years...I've never seen a body quite like yours~"

Haylee chuckled at him before nuzzling him. "You flatter me, love," She hummed before she looked down at him, kissing him softly. "Now, hurry up and eat. I have a long day ahead of me, and I'd like for you to join me."

Black-Hat was a bit disappointed she didn't seem to want to roll in the sheets again, but didn't mention it. He did as she asked, sitting back in the chair and finishing off his food. "Mm, join you with what?"

"I have some business to do. Being in the drug business is hard. But hey, it's to help my kids," She said before she got up. She stopped before showing off her breasts. "Wanna have a quickie before we go, darling?"

Black-Hat's eyes widened before he practically leaped on her, pinning her to the table and nibbling at her neck. He was already becoming excited, thankful the blasted kids were finally gone. Now he could spend some more time alone with Haylee, and no restriction of sound!

Haylee chuckled at him.

Soon, hours passed. That was not a quickie, but Haylee was hurrying to get her clothes on. She moved to her bedroom, hopping into her closet to find a button-up shirt. She found one soon enough, buttoning it, but struggling, since her bust was large for it. She soon relaxed, looking in the mirror. She looked good. She looked at her short skirt. Yep. This was good enough. The lady walked out, moving her arms back. "Nn--" Pop goes a button, showing off her violet bra underneath. Shit.

Despite the fact he'd just been satisfied multiple times, he couldn't help but stare. He glanced back up at her with a quirked brow. "I take it either that shirt is getting smaller...or you're getting bigger~" He smirked.

"Oh, hush," She said before unbuttoning the button above the one that popped off, "I don't have time to put on another shirt, so we gotta go."

Black-hat chuckled, following her out to...wherever it was they were going. This should be interesting, but he'd try and stay out of the way.

#bloody honeysuckle #blood on our hands #implied sex #blood #gore #suggestive #haylee

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toldnews-blog · 5 years

Photo

New Post has been published on https://toldnews.com/sports/ashwin-within-his-rights-but-id-prefer-a-warning-first-dravid/

Ashwin within his rights, but I'd prefer a warning first: Dravid

JAIPUR: Was Ravichandran Ashwin right in running Jos Buttler out the way he did? Opinion on it is divided. Rahul Dravid for one, feels the ‘Mankaded’ dismissal was well within the laws. However, the former India captain admits he would have done it differently. “Personally I would have given the batsman a warning,” he told TOI during an interaction here on Tuesday.

IPL Schedule

Excerpts:

How do you look at Ashwin’s dismissal of Buttler?

It’s within the laws of the game and that’s pretty clear. So I don’t have a problem with someone deciding to do it. Ashwin was well within his rights to do what he did. However, personally I would prefer it if somebody warns someone first. That would be my personal choice, but I respect someone’s view to think differently. I might not agree with it necessarily, but I would just have to agree to disagree whether someone should run someone out without warning him.

Do you think Ashwin lost some of his gentleman image?

I think some of the reactions were overblown. Questioning Ashwin’s character because he did that is totally wrong. He has every right to his view. You might not agree with it, but it was well within his rights to do it and that does not make him a bad person. Like I said, I would rather he had warned first, but if he chose not to do it, then that’s his interpretation and you can’t have issue with that. It is not about being a gentleman or a non-gentleman. This is not a judgement on his character, but his reading of the law. He has not cheated anybody, nor is he a bad person because he did that.

Later Ashwin hinted he doesn’t really care about sporting spirit…

The interpretation of sportsman spirit is different for different people and I don’t think we need to go into that. You can decide in how you want to be. It’s a player’s personal choice. The toughest thing for Ashwin and his coach in Kings XI is that an issue like sometimes polarizes opinion. Among the players and support staff, there might be some who feel he could have done things differently and that becomes difficult for the captain and coach going forward.

As coach, how would you look at it?

When I coach teams, I suggest and I use the word suggest, to players that if they feel someone is trying to get undue advantage, then please warn him and if he continues to do that, you can maybe do that (Mankaded). But then people don’t have to agree with me. There is nothing in the laws that say you have to warn. He (Ashwin) has read the law in a particular way. You can agree to disagree with him, but you cannot question his character, this is wrong.

Do you agree with the controversial ‘Mankaded’ law?

I don’t see any other way. Tomorrow if you don’t have the law, you can have somebody standing five feet outside the crease. So how do you make sure that someone doesn’t take advantage? The law is there for a reason and how you choose to use it is a tricky one.

Buttler has been ‘Mankaded’ earlier, so shouldn’t he have been more careful?

Look, I didn’t watch the game so I can’t really comment on that. I don’t want to get into it.

Talking about World Cup, should MS Dhoni or Risabh Pant play?

As a coach of the India U-19 team, I should not be commenting on who should be included. Everyone is same for me. All I will say is that Dhoni has incredible experience and he has been playing very well in the past few months. Rishabh is definitely an exciting young player and he has got the talent. If the selectors feel, two wicketkeepers can play. The best 15 should be in the team.

Who is your ideal No. 4?

Like I said, I cannot be commenting on that. I am coaching 10 boys and all of them are fighting for a place in that squad. I cannot publicly pick one particular player.

Do you think IPL is overloading the players? Jasprit Bumrah got injured…

In IPL, bowlers have to bowl just four overs. There cannot be overloading. Moreover, the players know best when they should be playing. You cannot force someone to play if he feels he cannot.

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borntobewinterbyjessieb · 4 years

Text

Risky Rescue

-Steve's POV-

By late afternoon we had made it to interior of the US. camp and made our way to Colonel Phillips tent. A Corporal types. At a desk across the tent, Colonel Phillips signs a stack of letters. I barrel in, Peggy walking right behind me.

"Well, if it isn't 'the starspangled

man with the plan.'What is your plan exactly?" Said the Colonel.

"Azzano. I want to see the casualty

list." I said sternly.

Colonel Phillips points to the RANK INSIGNIA ON HIS COLLAR.

"You don't get to give me orders,

'Captain.'!" The Colonel Phillips said glaring at me.

"I don't need the whole list. Just

one name. Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th" I said with a sigh.

"You and I are going to have a conversation later that you won't enjoy" the Colonel said directing his words toward Peggy.

"Just tell me if he's alive, sir. B-

A-R" I started but was interrupted by the Colonel.

"I know how to spell Rogers." He said with a blank look on his face.

Peggy seems to see my resolve as she turns to the Colonel.

"Sir, Rogers is only on loan to the

USO. Officially, he is still SSR." She says.

Phillips stares at me. Finally, he relents.

"Barnes?" Asked the Colonel.

I nod. Phillips picks up a thick sheaf of letters, leafing through the first few.

"I've signed more condolence letters

today than I'd care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I'm sorry." He sighed.

I feel my face pale, Phillips' words sinking in. I stare at a map of Austria on the wall, alongside aerial photos of a remote facility.

"What about the others? You're

planning a rescue mission?" I asked slightly taken aback at what this man's dictionary apparently forgot... 'No man left behind'.

"Yeah. It's called winning the

war" he grunted out.

"But sir- if you know where they are-." I started.

"They're thirty miles behind the lines. Through some of the most

heavily fortified territory in Europe. We'd lose more men than we'd save. I don't expect you to understand that, because you are just a chorus girl."

" Think I understand pretty well sir." I said determined now more than ever.

"Then understand it somewhere else.

If I read the posters right, you've got some place to be in a half- hour."

"Yes sir, I do." I said with one place in mind. Austria,

Deciding I'd had enough of his attitude and determination to not do the right thing. Thirty miles behind enemy lines.

I whistled for Darcy as she let out a low growl at the Colonel, she followed behind me a few seconds later.

We were going on a rescue mission.

-The next day mid afternoon-

"The Hydra camp is in Krausberg,

tucked between two mountain ranges. It's a factory of some kind." Peggy said sitting across from me as we looked at a map. Howard leans back from the controls.

"We should be able to drop you right

on the doorstep." Said Stark.

"Just get me as close as you can." I say the I turn to Peggy saying, "You know, you're both going to be in a lot of trouble when you land."

"And you're not?" She said knowingly.

"Yeah, but where I'm landing, if

anybody yells at me, I get to shoot them." I smirk.

"They're undoubtedly going to shoot

back."

I show her my shield strapped to my back.

"It's got to be good for something."

"Agent Carter, if we're not in too

much of a hurry, I thought we'd stop in Lucerne for a late night fondue." Howard grins. I'm a little tweaked.

"Why is he saying "fondue" like

that? What's fondue?" I ask in my confusion.

"Stark's the best civilian pilot I've ever seen, and mad enough to brave this airspace. We're lucky to have him." She said.

-Darcy's POV-

"Stark's the best civilian pilot I've ever seen, and mad enough to brave this airspace. We're lucky to have him." Peggy said quietly amused.

"Do you, are you two...fondue?" Steve Asked completely oblivious to the truth.

"Take this transponder. Activate it when you're ready and the signal will lead us right to you." She said regaining her business like poster and tone.

Steve looks at the insignia, 'STARK INDUSTRIES.'

"You sure it works?" Steve Asked.

"It's been tested more than you

have, buddy." Stark says a little to smug.

The plane lurches to the left being shot at. Howard executes evasive maneuvers. Steve straps on his parachute and throws open the jump door.

"Rogers, get back here. We're taking

you all the way in!" Peggy tells him as she begins to put a little wolf parachute made especially for me.

Explosions rock the air as Steve realizes what he's about to do.Another explosion is made. He turns to Peggy and says, "ONCE I'M CLEAR, TURN THIS THING AROUND AND GET OUT OF HERE!"

Peggy yells back, " YOU CAN'T GIVE ME ORDERS!"

"THE HELL I CAN'T!" He braces himself in the doorway. "I'M A CAPTAIN!"

Another shot fired as another explosion rang in the air. The plane lurches once more just as...Steve jumps. I run after him and soon pull the parachute string with my mouth.

-3rd POV-

Search lights sweeps from watchtowers. A barbed Wire fence rings a compound of buildings. A factory belches smoke.

-Inside the factory.-

A Hydra tech loads blue cartridge and into a cluster-bomb, then gently loads the clusterbomb into a nose cone.

"As you see, production is

proceeding faultlessly." Zola explains to Schmidt the success of the power exportation.

Zola and Schmidt walk the factory floor.

Catwalks radiate from a control room overhead. DR. Arnim Zola Even in ordnance of this size.

"Good. Increase output by sixty

percent. See to it our other facilities do the same." Schmidt orders.

"But our...workers. I am not sure

they have the strength." Says Zola.

P.O.W.'S labor at gun point . A giant crane loads bombs onto a rail car.

"Then use what strength they have

left, Doctor. There are always more workers." Schmidt smirks not showing an ounce of humanity.

-outside of factory at the main gate of the compound-

Steve peers out at the guards patrolling the main gate, Darcy following him in her human form, wearing a uniform just like Captain America. They drop as headlights sweep the road. Three covered trucks rumble toward the gate. A gate guard checks the drivers' papers. In the background, Steve and Darcy sneak into the last truck.

The trucks roll into the compound, gates closing behind them. GUARDS hurry out to unload the trucks.

At the last truck, one guard peers in curious. A red, white and blue shield stands amongst the supplies.The shield springs out smashing him in the face. The guard clutches at his nose feeling it broken. Darcy drop kicks him in the groin and punches him dead between the eyes as the guard drops. Steve and Darcy emerge from the darkness.

Once the vehicle enters the compound Steve and Darcy jump out of the back of the vehicle and stay under the cover of the darkness. They use the light of the dimly lit sky to see where they're going.

Across from them about 14 feet away.

Hydra guards prod P.O.W.'S across the compound. Steve and Darcy follow, keeping to the shadows. At the barracks, one guard stands watch as the other leads the prisoners inside...

-in the Barracks-

A warden opens a cage and prods the prisoner in. A prisoner in a hat bring up the rear, slow. The warden hits him with a truncheon, knocking off his bowler. The prisoner picks up his hat and puts it back on. the super duo see it's Dum Dum Dugan He stares at the Warden.

"You know, Fritz, one of these days,

I'm gonna get my own stick."

The warder viciously kicks Dugan inside. Down hundred more prisoners are trapped in a the dozen. With multiple rows, and more cages.

The guard steps out to find his partner sleeping against the wall with his helmet over his eyes. He kicks him, but the guard doesn't move. He lifts his partner's helmet to see...he's out cold.

Steve steps up behind him with a truncheon. And knocks the guard upside the head with it. Darcy goes ahead stealthily making her way to the cages.

Four prisoners, Falsworth, Jones, Dernier and Dugan slump on the floor of their cage, exhausted. The warden on the upper floor makes his rounds. He passes out of sight. Then Steve gets spotted as Darcy comes up behind the warden and hits him upside the head. The warden drops on top of the cage, unconscious. The prisoners jump up as Darcy looks down at them and motions for Steve to come over.

"Hello" she says. As Steve comes to her side and waves.

The prisoners stare, stunned. Jones raises an eyebrow at Steve's outfit and shield.

The prisoners' excitement dies.

"And who the hell are you supposed

to be?" Said Jones.

"I'm...Captain America. And this is Wynter."

"Merde." Said Dernier.

-Darcy POV-

We then free them and they began to feee the others. As we also begin to free them. I in particular was looking for one person though. The person who had captured my heart and refused to let it free. The person who conquered my mind and wouldn't let it go. James Buchanan Barnes. The one man who had won me over in so little time. It's been years since I've seen him. And before Steve left, it had only been months...

Freed prisoners follow Steve as he makes his way down the row, opening cages with the guard's keys. I free some of the others with a bobby pin Peggy had given me for my hair. Steve releases Falsworth, Jones, Dernier and Dugan. Dugan spots A Japanese- American Soldier, Morita, already free.

"What, are we taking everybody?" Said Dugan.

"I'm from Fresno, Ace." Morita said with snark in his voice.

Steve searches the throng of prisoners. As I continue looking through the cages for anyone left behind.

"Are there any others?" Steve Asked.

"They did take a number of the men

to isolation ward. I'm afraid we haven't seen them since." Said Falsworth.

I see Steve considers this as the prisoners gather round. Finally, he hands them a pistol and grenades.

"The tree line's northwest, about 80

yards from the gate. From there, just follow the creek bed." Steve informed them.

"We'll meet you in the clearing with anybody we find inside." I continued for him.

Jones stops us. "Wait. You sure you know what you're doing?"

"Sure. I've knocked out Adolph

Hitler over 200 times." Steve says moving out as I follow.

Steve circles the factory, looking for a way in. While I transformed into my wolf. I sniffed at the snow for any scent to find a way in.

-in the factory-

-3rd POV-

A Hydra guard stands watch near a door. He hears tapping. A silhouette appears behind the glass. The guard cautiously opens the door and pokes his head out.

"Ja?" Said the hydra guard.

The door slams,pinning his head. The guard looks up to see Steve's fist coming right at him. He's knocked out cold but Darcy shoots him using a muffler for good measure. They enter the factory, creeping between bombs and crates. Clusters of cartridges bristle inside an unfinished bomb. Steve pulls one out, curious, It glows blue in his hand. He pockets the cartridge and heads for the stairs with Darcy following right behind him.

A guard rushes down the stairs, his jackboots almost crushing Steve's fingers as Steve hangs under the staircase. The guard raises his gun about to shoot Darcy but Steve yanks the guard's ankle. He tumbles down the stairs.

The duo step onto a catwalk, only to be met by another guard pointing a pistol. Steve knocks the gun from his hand and smashes him in the face. The guard falls, flips back up and charges. Steve swings from a beam and kicks the guard in the chest causing him to fall down. As the guard gets back up Darcy roundhouse kicks him in the knees causing them to give in. He falls over the railing and onto the floor below.

Steve looks over the factory floor, taking in the full scale of the bomb-making facility. Just then...TWO MORE SOLDIERS ATTACK FROM EITHER SIDE. The first guard fires. Steve drops and shoots him down. The second guard closes in. Steve whirls and crushes his neck with the side of his shield. Darcy only being able to watch as Steve moved too quickly for her to react.

He then takes on three guards. As four more come forward lunging at Darcy. She ducks and swings a mean left hook into one of their jaws causing him to stumble back. She kicks another in the crotch. Him on his knees she takes her gun and shoots him between the eyes. She elbows another in the throat as the third one recovers from his jaw.

Darcy then flips into the air landing on one of the soldiers backs and twists his neck. After that she sees the two soldiers left, running toward her. Darcy jumps up and does a split in the air kicking the two in the head. One goes down while the other stumbles back cursing under his breath in German.

"verdammte Schlampe, ich bring dich selbst um." He said. [damn bitch, I'll kill you myself]

"Hat deine Mutter dir nie gesagt, dass es unhöflich ist, vor einer Dame zu fluchen?" Darcy replies. [didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude to cuss in front of a lady?]

She said kicking him in his knees making him fall on them as she brought her gun to his forehead and took the shot.

Steve hits one guard and kicks another, then uses him to deflect the blast of a third. Steve dispatches the last guard and heads up the stairs leaving Darcy to follow.

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