#like the opposite of that 'gets out of cult and puts on weight as a visible indication that theyre healing' trope

[bokatan]

Glance, stature, and night for Reed !!

[ oc asks: character design edition ]

glance: At first glance, what stands out most about your OC's appearance? What's their distinguishing feature?

Generally his most noticeable features are his glasses and his nose. His facial scars are pretty noticeable as well, but don't stand out as much as the other two.

stature: What's your OC's body type? How tall are they? Do they wear clothing to accentuate their look or do they try to mask it?

Reed is 5'9"(175cm for y'all non-americans), and overall his body type is in between average and athletic - he's pretty fit and muscular, but he's more on the soft side rather than hard, defined muscle. His body type and weight does vary a bit depending on where he's at in his timeline as well - he's a bit more bulky and has more muscle definition immediately after getting out of the vault(aka very fresh out of the army) and while he's heavily involved in the BOS due to being in a heavily structured military-esque environment, and on the flip side he's a bit leaner after defecting to the Railroad. His typical style is very utilitarian/practical, but he's more likely to go with clothes that are more fitted as long as they're still functional.

night: What does your OC wear to sleep? Do they have a favorite pair of PJs, or are they more the birthday suit type?

I'm just going to be up front about it: his sleep schedule's nonexistent, it's not unheard of for him to unintentionally fall asleep during downtime, and he sleeps in his regular clothes more than he'd care to admit. His preference is usually things like loose shirts and tanks, shorts, etc when he's not being a disaster though.

#thank you!!💖 #ask games #reed tag #listen. i adore reed's nose. it's my pride and joy. but he has absolutely broken his nose multiple times and it shows #casually throwing my 'reed subconsciously gets mild body issues in toxic environments' headcanon out there lmao #like the opposite of that 'gets out of cult and puts on weight as a visible indication that theyre healing' trope #everyone has a breaking point where they start to feel small when they're constantly working with giant people in power armor #not like an ED or anything he just works out a bit more and bulks up a bit. like he's not even really aware of what he's doing #i also hc that the BoS just collects giant people for whatever reason. like good luck finding anyone in there that's under 6'

[vexwerewolf]

Felicitations, comrade! We had our session 0 for the IGF campaign im running, and one of my players wants to be a moonlighter pirate "infiltrating" Hell's Gate militia. He was initially thinking of being affiliated with the Hell Hounds, which for obvious reasons would present some challenges. Do you have any advice for making this happen, what with the very first mission putting him up against his true boss? I dont know that he'd have enough time to have truly built up camraderie with the rest of the SRT to truly make his character have conflicted loyalties.

I mean, he'd have to have been with the militia a while to build up enough trust to be seriously considered for the SRT.

But moreover, let me tell you what being a Hell Hound is like.

CW: psychological and physical abuse

So one thing I want to make it clear that the Hell Hounds are basically an incel cult without the weird gender-sexual overtones. I imagine there ARE women and enbies who join it but in essence Andros Capella is a creepy weirdo who preys on disaffected, primarily male youth with no prospects and indoctrinates them into his worldview of nihilistic violence.

Andros doesn't really have a philosophy, or at least not one that he could describe in words (and even if he could, he wouldn't), but it could be summed up as "the weak exist solely to create things for the strong to take." You are worthy of having things if you are strong enough to take them, but only so long as you're strong enough to keep them.

The closest political ideology I could ascribe to him would be "stateless fascism." Andros is certainly sadistic, devoid of empathy and believes himself to be supreme, but he's too intellectually lazy to bother engaging in justifying why he's supreme. He makes the most basic of naturalistic arguments (i.e. "this is just the way the world works") but feels it's beneath him to actually justify or provide evidence for his claims.

He hates the minutiae of day-to-day life, and derives no joy from anything that doesn't involve someone else's discomfort or pain. He will steal your food for the sheer thrill of having taken something that you wanted to eat, but he won't enjoy eating it because he despises the physical sensations of chewing and swallowing.

And if you are a Hell Hound who, god forbid, enjoys something, he will bully the shit out of you. He will verbally and physically abuse you until you learn to hate the thing you liked just to make the pain stop.

Lemme tell you what the average night on Fort Cerberus looks like when you're not on a raid: you and a couple hundred other sick fucks lurk around the corridors drinking and gambling but you sure as hell better not actually look like you're having fun because you're all desperately trying to avoid becoming the bossman's next chew toy.

Some poor fuck catches Andros' eye. You're not sure what for, but from the sounds of things he might've been counting his poker winnings too loud. He gets a hand on his shoulder from the big man, who tells him that he's being too selfish - gotta learn to share a bit more, yeah? Now, way Andros sees it, guy's got ten fingernails that he's keeping all to himself, so here's a set of pliers - redistribute.

You jeer along with the rest of the room, loud enough to drown out his screams, because you're so very, very relieved that it isn't you. But you fuck up. You look a little bit too enthusiastic, perhaps, or maybe it's the opposite, maybe you weren't forcing it enough. Either way, the bossman's eyes land on you and your blood turns to ice in your veins.

"You," he says. "C'mere."

The room is dead silent all of a sudden, quiet enough that the pitiful whimpering of the first guy, (currently on his second thumbnail) is the only sound you can hear. You walk over, as a prisoner does to the place of execution.

He takes your hands, inspecting your fingernails, and then your hands, then your arms. "No ink yet? You not pulling your weight? Am I payin' to feed a fuckin' leech?"

You say you're not a leech.

"Those pricks over at the Gate are gettin' too clever. Learning too quick. Gettin' the jump on us too many times. I want someone over there learnin' what they know. You 'avin' no ink makes you a good choice. They'd sniff out any of these boys in a second, they would, but not you. You look soft. Don't he look soft, boys?"

The room jeers at you just as you jeered at the first guy (he's on his ninth nail, now, and his throat is so hoarse he can't make sounds anymore). You try your best to remain composed.

"Normally soft'd be fuckin' worthless. But soft'll let you blend right in with the Gaters."

So, to avoid whatever horrific torture he's currently ideating, you agree. The next time they go out on a raid, they pick a ship full of people who don't know each other and slip you in with the passengers when nobody's looking. You don't go to Hell's Gate directly - you do a couple of hops through the Thousand Habs, just to throw off suspicion.

You sue for residency on the station as a refugee from a failed habitat. They give you your own cabin, and they make sure you're fed and clothed. You smirk to yourself - they really are as soft as Andros said they'd be; they have food and water and clothes and they're just giving them away!

You don't have all that many marketable skills, so after a few rotations scrubbing air filters, you apply to take the militia aptitude test. You try to play it down so they don't get suspicious, but if nothing else you're a damn good pilot, so you get fast-tracked. These fucking idiots just give you a mech! God, it's gonna be so easy to tear them apart from the inside.

They put you in a team. You train together, building up hours in the simulators. Then something weird happens. They... trust you? They want to... spend time with you, outside the simulators. They want to drink with you, play games with you, hear about your life. Well, is it more suspicious if you say no? You have to maintain your cover.

You don't always fit in well. Sometimes you crack jokes that are... a little unpleasant, a little off, a little worrying, and you learn to bite those down because it's bad for your cover. You also have this odd air about you, like you're constantly on guard, like you're waiting for the other shoe to drop (like somebody's gonna make you rip your fingernails out if you're too happy). People figure you must've gone through some trauma and are kind stupid enough not to pry.

You feed information about the militia back to Andros - carefully, so as not to blow your cover. Some members of your team get hurt - nobody dies, but they get hurt. You feel... bad. Why do you feel bad? They're soft, they're weak, they don't mean anything. They're not your real friends. You don't have any friends.

Months pass. Jerry says he wants to tap your team for a long-standing project he's working on. This is your chance. Sabotaging this will prove to Andros that you're strong, that you're not weak, that you're not a leech, that you can pull your weight.

Sure, a bunch of your team will have to die. The only people who've ever put their trust in you, the only people who've ever believed in you. But that's fine, right? They don't mean anything, they're not real people, right? They're idiots for trusting you, right? They deserve it, right?

Right?

... right?

#lancer #lancer rpg #lancerrpg #lancer-rpg #in golden flame #cw: abuse #cw: injury #cw: indoctrination #cw: violence #cw: cults

[tiyoin]

cult of pomefiore #2

cw: describes imagery of cult sacrifices

maybe you’re friends with epel and the first year gang, mayyybe epel confessed to you saying how he’s liked you the moment he met you🙈 ofc he’s nervy, but he’s a man! not a pus- oh, you don’t see him that way? oh, no that’s okay! he just hopes this doesn’t effect your friendship!

he’s so calm and understanding on the outside, but on the inside oh ho ho ho, on the inside he’s seething

epel’s calling you horrendous names, wishing horrors on you for playing with him. you’re just like every other girl, using him. his grandma warned him about heart breakers like you, and he’s out for revenge.

so he gives your name to rook for a scarface. that’ll show you!! that’ll make you regret humiliating him like that! for giving him all these stolen glances and fleeting touches. that’ll show you for playing with his heart like that!

and yet… he can’t help but pause as he sees rook chatting you up. you’re giving him the same treatment you gave epel, shy eyes and fidgeting fingers, the tips of your shoes were squirming and you had that eye contact issue.

ah. so you were like this like everyone, epel wasn’t special, he was just delusional. letting the hunter play him like a fiddle and feeding him twisted truths and half lies… all to get, to you.

he didn’t know how long he was staring until a chill went up his spine. his gaze snapped to the hunter’s as purple met green. rook had caught him looking at you again. but this time, instead of beckoning the first year over, he put a gloved hand on your shoulder and guided you to towards the opposite direction, liquid praise trickling from his lips as an impish look shadowed his face.

rook had agreed with him when he brought up your name for a new member. to indoctrinate into the cult. he remembers the feeling anger and deep satisfaction when the hunter had all but brought you up to vil. spinning him tales of how untainted your soul was, yet how clouded your eyes were and how with a little training you’d be good for the table in time for the full moon!

and yet… watching the hunter leave with his prize made bile squeeze up his throat like squeezing toothpaste from its tube.

his books dropped with a mutter thud as he collapsed to his knees. his legs were numb and his forehead felt prickly, clamy as images upon images of you, sweet, innocent you flooded his minds eye. you were in a beauty, silky night gown the color of starlight. your hair was flowing like a rushing river, your eyes were shimmering like diamonds, and your lips were a deep red of the apples he and his family grew on his tree farm. your gaze upturned to the statue of the evil queen, eyes filled with hope and wonder and your hands clasped together in prayer.

like a slide show he was brought to the next image.

your eyes were closed, yet your soft smile never faltered. your hands were intertwined as you laid in your gown on a stone slab. ancient letters he could only dream of deciphering laid around your body like those blue mosaics on porcelain plates.

the room was dark and yet a soft yellow beam of light shone down on you. you looked… heavenly.

the chanting around you was anything but heavenly as he could hear the sadistic glee in the others words. he could hear the smiling as they recited the ancient texts they practiced just for rituals. they were shrouded in dark purple hoods, knelt on their prayer cushions as they dared not look up.

in front of you, rook was in his pomefiore uniform, a… distasteful glee on his face as he welcomed his brothers and sisters.

epel hurled chunks when he envisioned rook penetrating your chest with the ‘gift of the queen’, a lone tear of ecstasy escaping as the chantings grew louder.

the shadow above them was appeased.

the weight of epel’s rash decision now hung heavy on his shoulders.

epel had sold you to the devil

#i wanted to write about cult of pomefiore but i couldn’t answer the ask again since im still pained over it 😔 #i’m sorry anon 💔 #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst #yandere rook hunt #rook x reader #yandere vil x reader

[margotbamborough]

I'm just jotting down a few themes I've noticed so far in the Running Grave!

Food/hunger/weight: while Robin's undergoing forced starvation in the cult (again, a common form of mind control used by cults) Strike is on a diet. A lot of references are made to characters being under- or overweight. For instance the detail that one of the ex-cult members developed a binge eating problem following her traumatic experience with the cult. Food (and Strike's and Robin's respective relationships to it) has been a pretty consistent motif that has popped up throughout the series so far and it's being made very explicit in TRG. There's definitely an idea of unhealthy relationships with food being explored. (Though also jkr just likes to write about food lol that's pretty clear in hp as well)

Disconnection from family: While Strike is actually connecting with his family more than we've seen before– forging a new bond with Lucy and her family, taking care of Ted, getting to know Prudence– the cult's MO (as is the case with most cults) is the opposite, to alienate victims from their families. We're getting to know several families who have been torn apart by UHC. The central family to the mystery is of course Mazu, Wace, and Daiyu. There's specifically a focus on mothers: there are several mothers or expecting mothers in the cult, Leda, Mazu, Ilsa (the book starts at her son's christening with her as a new mother). Even Bijou's apparent baby-trapping schemes fit into this theme, though I'm not sure how thats going to play out yet.

Mental illness/trauma: Prudence is a psychologist, and several of the cult victims either suffered from mental illness before being recruited or as a result of the trauma they experienced. Lucy discloses the fact that she's in therapy to Strike, a fact which surprises him, and encourages him to pursue therapy as well. Robin and Strike are both characters who have a great deal of unprocessed trauma, which they've slooowly been coming to grips with throughout the series, but I think so far this is the book where it's been most directly addressed. As of yet mostly in Strike's case, though given the nature of what's happening at in the cult I imagine I'm going to start seeing some of Robin's too.

Empathy/forgiveness: I'm not sure how to word this one but there's a feeling that Strike is becoming more open to understanding others and feeling more empathy towards them. He's a character who has previously been somewhat harsh and judgmental towards the people he deals with both in his personal life and his work– I'm not complaining, it's a good bit of characterisation. But after having criticised/scorned Lucy's lifestyle for the entire series so far, he's finally beginning to understand why she is the way she is and respect her. His realisation that she's actually incredibly brave was a HUGE moment. In general, Strike's inner monologue has been much less critical of the people he interviews than it typically is. The cult has a very black and white mentality, people are either good or evil, and I think this is something Strike has tended towards in the past- so TRG seems to be putting forward the notion that people deserve understanding and kindness. That nuance is important. A big issue when dealing with victims of cults is that many of them have been coerced into doing terrible unconscionable things that are difficult for the rest of us to understand, and many of them struggle with guilt, while outsiders struggle to forgive their actions. Steve Hassan explains this very well in his book (which is referenced in TRG and read by Strike)

I may expand on this!! These are just a few thoughts I've had so far

#cormoran strike #strike series #the running grave #im tearing through this book lol so i have to stop and collect my thoughts

[ultraericthered]

So I just recently watched this confused little movie in full again.

And I have to say, shocker of shockers, Doug Walker got it wrong yet again. Aside from his typical lack of research on the development of this film (I don't think the "one character from each animated canon movie" project that was concieved for the potential 50th film back in the 2000s had anything to do with this and its correlation with the 100th year, as this was a project concieved in 2018, when it wasn't certain that it would be rolled out in 2023 five years later) and his typical hypocrisy of not giving it the "it's fine" pass that he gave the similarly middling quality Super Mario Bros Movie, his venomous lambasting of the film as being the worst Disney film because it's "nothing", thus capping off 100 years of history and creations with "nothing", is just dead wrong. If anything, the problem with Wish is exactly the opposite: it's got more than one "something" going on for it and gets perpetually tugged at and torn in all those directions.

The movie clearly began as merely a way to tell an all-new Disney original fairy tale that ties back to the old "When You WIsh Upon A Star" theme, but the 2023 deadline turned that into a celebratory milestone feature alongside the animation studio's own supplemental celebratory feature for that same milestone, Once Upon A Studio. But then the big corporate side of the Walt Disney Company, the side of Bob Chapek and Bob Iger, put its heel down on the production and tampered with the shape the film was taking in order to ensure it checked off every possible box of some arbritary Disney Formula checklist and include all the homages, references and cameos they wanted in it so that it could serve as the corporate celebration of Disney too.

But this isn't the only identity crisis it got hit with, for Wish presents itself as clearly a kiddie-oriented flick, trying to be something that whole families can watch together and enjoy well enough on the most basic, casual level, but particularly geared towards the little ones in the audience, to be for them what the Disney animated fairy tales of old were for Disney fans who are old timers today: the throwback is all too calculated and deliberate. And yet it tries to do this on the back of a premise that is rife with complex ideas, spiritual subtext, vague and sometimes contradictory rules that dictate the worldbuilding, and heavy themes like a self-made monarchy that has corroded the society of its citizenry into a cult following that puts all faith and trust in the royals to manage the most important parts of their lives and very selves for them not realizing or caring that they're being befrauded and restrained from the pursuit of self actualization and the realization of their own visions, how placing too much trust in one solitary other person with power over something that is your inalienable right not to be marked as anyone else's possession in the blind hope of a magic solution to all the obstacles in your life is unwise and unfulfilling when you could instead try to realize your heart's deepest desires yourself through your own utilization of other means, and when even the best intentions of a civilization's leadership gives way to oppressive, harmful practices, betrayal of committed responsibilities, and destructive corruption that seeks gratification and elevation of the self through the subjugation and dissipirtment of others. This is unfortunately on brand for Jennifer Lee and Chris Buck, who similarly set up themes and ideas and even ethical dilemmas with potential dramatic weight in Frozen II only to have the film get cold feet (ha ha) and not go all the way with them because being a markettable Disney fairy tale for kids took priority.

And then lastly you get the whiplash duality that I as a viewer has to experience, where my mind is always wandering to what I wish (HA HA) this movie had been but also trying not to veer too off track from engaging with what the movie actually is, with the most bothersome part being that while I can get some decent, wholesome, all around solid entertainment from the movie as is (King Magnifico's scenes are always the most captivating and show-stealing parts), it also keeps showing me so many areas where even this finished product could have been significantly improved, which is especially true of the film's erractic pacing. The story slowing down a bit and allowing some of its scenes the breathing room they needed to really get the most out of them so that they sit better with the audience would've done wonders for the viewing experience. Expand more on backstories and axe the go-nowhere bits, have Asha be a ball of anxiety who’s not accustomed to having to extrovert so much, make Gabo less of a douche, make King Magnifico more of a douche, make Queen Amaya more morally gray and give her character arc the details to make it sensible and convincing, do similarly with Dahlia, give Star more clear communication bits, give Valentino much less to say, etc. That way even without the darker edges, the evil power couple, the Star Boy and semi-romance, the film is still a strong enough version of what it needed to be for a young audience.

Wish is ultimately an alright Disney film, definitely not the worst they’ve done, it’s passable entertainment. But I’m sure the creative team that worked on it is on the same boat as much of its audience: wishing for much more than this, ‘cause how much more this tale could’ve been is apparent in all the lanes it touched yet did not pick.

#Disney #Wish #opinion #criticism #review #anti doug walker #anti jennifer lee #anti Disney #sort of

[ultfreakme]

Well, first of all I would like to thank you for always answering our questions. I thought of something these days and it makes a little sense. I believe that satura loves geto but I think he fell in love with the teenage geto and not with the adult geto because he didn't live with and doesn't know the adult geto because they were away for 10 years. and the adult suguru and the teenage suguru are totally different people. Can you tell me what you think and if this makes sense? sorry for the text.

Awww thank you! I try my best to answer these days(I have a backlog from months that I have no idea how to respond to so sorry to those who sent those but I am answering more recent asks).

I really agree on that anon! It does feel like Gojo's in love with Geto's past rather than his present self, I think it makes a lot of sense. Gojo's so stuck on those 3 years and puts a lot of value on them. Sometimes I wonder if a part of Gojo's love comes from how he views the time they spent together, untouched by the weight of future responsibility and the recklessness and freedom that come with youth rather than just Geto. I know he loves Geto alone but I think the way he views the past may tint the experience.

Although, I do think he loved current Geto in his own way and was very willing to get to know more about and love the adult Geto as well. My only evidence for that is he pictured Geto in his cult leader era robes in his dying moments, also the alley conversation before he killed him.

I think Gojo understood Geto's reasons for his extremism as he grew up, and rejected those reasons not because it was morally wrong per se, but because it was out of character for Geto and because it was a ridiculous plan. I think he still empathized with Geto's loneliness and the urge to just kill everyone that's in their way(Gojo's shown he had that urge many times and would have actually killed all the higher ups in jujutsu tech). Though a lot of the core of his love for Geto comes from those three years, I think he would have loved the man he became in those ten years as well.

Gojo's love for Geto is very...symbolic? Like they represent long-known symbols. Black and white, Yin and Yang, complementary opposites, and are bound to circle each other no matter how far they drift, and though Gojo knew him best in those three years, I think he was willing and ready to love Geto, crimes and all, during those 10 years, even if he didn't know him one-to-one like he used to.

TLDR: I think you're right but I think Gojo is way too far gone and would've loved Geto just the same if Geto allowed him to get clsoer in those 10 years apart.

#riki asks #satosugu #gojo x geto

[dykeyangel]

Agree Isaac will be key to Colin's story. I feel Colin's acceptance is strongly tied to his performance and I'm curious how that will develop. He's benched now S3. GOAT Zava may be an issue, in thematic contrast? His cult undid some of Ted's good work. Bet Colin will play again after it's out. (We've yet to see a red?) But it's so touchy, even indirect talk on their chances could have Colin feel liable for losses or feel shame after this shake-up. I want the opposite to show too end of S3. (1/2)

(2/2) At the end of this storyline, I want for Colin to be embraced and free, yes, by his team, and overall at least in a way that is enough and more, if not the world. But I NEED him to be a gosh darn STAR on the field when he's finally free, supported, on solid ground. Being one with the team and self-confident is everything that improved Ted's players that he hasn't gotten to have. He's a strong and capable man! (Jan Maas: In a squad of 20-or-so men it is highly improbable only Colin is gay.)

--

Yes yes yes, I agree like the way that Colin plays and the way he feels about himself are definitely connected. I think it's really interesting the way that Nate describes him as not moving or inspiring people because "he's just there" which, on Colin's part, is definitely on purpose, if possibly subconscious. The chameleon metaphor works in a couple different ways: Colin being a closeted gay man in a room full of straight men and Colin being a gay footballer in the public eye. Colin doesn't want to be noticed, he doesn't want to be seen. If he's seen, people might start to ask questions about his life that he isn't ready to answer yet. So he keeps to the back, he blends in; he's already in the public eye being on the team, he doesn't need to take any more risks. I think that Colin keeping that part of himself locked away and under wraps weighs him down when he plays in a way he doesn't even notice. Colin has probably come to terms with the fact that he has to remain closeted for the sake of not only his career but also his life however that doesn't negate the effects of being closeted and keeping an entire part of his life a secret. With this secret, Colin can't stand out as a player because of the fear of being noticed and analyzed past what he's comfortable with.

Being a gay footballer could also put Colin in a position where he feels like if he fucks up, he'll be scrutinized not only for the way he plays but for his sexuality. We've seen that Colin puts a lot of pressure on himself to perform well and now we can connect that being related to the way people will view his sexuality. Obviously, there's an idea in the sports world that if you're gay, you're not strong or tough enough to be on this team which is where his "I am a strong and capable man" mantra comes in. I remember one sports center scene where they said that it was Colin's fault for giving away possession and letting the other team get a goal. Moments like that where Colin fucks up are going to be attributed to the fact that he's gay. It won't be "Colin gave away possession" it'll be "the gay one lost them the game." I think this perception will also mess with Colin a lot, when he comes out, eyes will be on him, watching for any mistake he makes. (This is just theorizing now but when they know that he's gay and Colin makes a mistake, a fan might his gayness as an insult, making Isaac want to defend him by going up into the stands to punch him?)

When the team finally knows (even if he's outed, I would like to see Colin tell the team himself), I do hope Colin has a moment where he feels that love and support from his teammates and is able to play without the weight of fear and isolation. I hope that after Colin comes out, he has a moment where he feels free and confident enough in himself to let himself play to his fullest potential.

#wanted to get to this last night but fell asleep before i could #i was kind of just babbling and this is probably way more than what you wanted but i think there are so many different things that could be #done here #colin hughes #ted lasso #colin tag

[passionateseadruid]

Netflix Death Note Rewrite

Summary:

I’m rewriting the 2017 Death Note Movie

This is the first in a series of Rewrites! Pretty much no one liked the Death Note Netflix Adaptation so I (an actual fan of the series) will try to rewrite the movie to actually make it compelling and competent.

First things first how long would this be? Ideally a mini series of 5-8 episodes maybe around 30 minutes each give or take. But let's say that we only have the original 1 hour and 40 minutes for a movie. Well we better make the most of it then.

~~~~

We open up on an old abandoned church busted pews, broken windows, and a cracked alter. The whole place furnished with old rugs and tarps to cover up the decay of the furniture, thousand of candles everywhere, maybe a mural on the wall of a brunette positioned in a stance with his arms out spread, welcoming the people, yet judging them at the same time.

"Light" Turner (still known as Donn Turner) stands behind the alter talking about Kira.

"Thank you all for coming to honor our savior. Kira the great god of justice, the god of the new world. I notice we have some knew attendants." Donn motions to a couple. Everyone looks to them and Donn motions them up to the front where they complete a ritual, something maybe to do with candles and ending in eating an apple. 

After the ritual everyone leave except for a brunette girl named Mia. She comes up and kisses him on the lips, praising him and his sermon today.

~~~~

The original relationship was very stale and didn't have much weight put onto it. It was also very toxic and the two characters didn't have much in common. By making "Light" the leader of this cult and Mia his pre-established girlfriend in said cult it tells us a few things about these characters already.

A. "Light" is very manipulative, and charismatic, while still being the toxic bitch he was to Misa in the anime. B. Mia, much like Misa is very loyal, but she's actually less interested in "Light" and is devoted heart, body, mind, and soul to Kira (You'll get to see more of that later but essentially Mia is a flip of Misa. Misa was first devoted to the idea of Kira and then her devotion turned into an obsession with Light. Mia will be the opposite but right now that's a further plot-point). And C. This takes place after either the Anime or the Manga (though I'm leaning more towards the Mange because the epilogue of that had the set up to this, where there were Kira Cults.)

~~~~

The next scene Donn and Mia enter Lights home and his dad is there preparing takeout.

"Donny! Oh Hello Mia."

"Hello Mr. Turner."

"Do you want to stay for Dinner? Donn made the Honor role again and got a 100% on his recent science project. I ordered his favorite food as a reward! We've got a lot to celebrate!"

"No thanks Mr. T. I should bet home. My step monsters will kill me if I'm out past my curfew."

"Okay, see you at school tomorrow." Donn smiles and strokes her head. He kisses her forehead and she kisses his cheek. 

"Bye love!" she smiles and walks out.

"Love huh? That's a bit soon considering your both still in school."

"Dad-"

"No no! It's fine she's a nice girl. I just don't want you to do something you'll regret,"

"I'm fine! I'll be in my room." He grabs a plate scoops some food onto it and takes it to his room.

"Wait I caught the Grim Angel today! Don't you want to hear about that? Donn? Can You at least take out the trash?"

"I will!" He slams the door. He then scarfs down the food and throws some garbage into the trash including a bag of potato chips. Then he goes to empty the trash. Once outside he throws the trash in the garbage can it starts to rain as a book drops right on Donn's head. "What the hell?" He picks it up and brings it into the house.

He goes up to his room and locks the door. "The human whose name is written in this note shall die. This will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected. If the cause of death is written within the next 40 seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen. If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack. After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds. No way, is this how Kira killed all those people?"

"Yes actually." Donn falls off his chair with a scream. Before him stands a big monster, 8 feet tall and looking like a demon. He had no eyes, and black fungus all over his body. His body itself was a ghostly pale and he had red flame like horns popping out the side of his head crackling and moving in a none existent wind. "Calm down! You have a father downstairs don't you. I'm sure he'll be worried if you start screaming."

"How do you know that? What are you?"

"My my. I thought a fan of our savior Kira would know a lot more about Shinigami."

"Kira? You're a Shinigami?"

"Yes... I go by Justice now."

"What does that mean?"

"I was human once. I was the most devout follower of Kira when we were alive."

"Teru Mikami."

"I cannot say. It is one of the rules."

"So why are you here?"

"I'm here to finish my work. I want you to kill off the remaining criminals."

"Why can't you do that yourself?"

"After the incident there was another rule in place to limit how many humans we can kill a year to just ten."

"Did you choose me? Is that how you know about my family?"

"Yes. I want you to become Light Yagami reincarnated, and for your precious little girlfriend to be the new Misa Amane."

The Shinigami "Justice" would then go on to push light into his first kill. He snuck into his dad's room and pilfered his brief case for the name of the Grim Angel. Damon Cher. Donn pushes him to escape custody steal a bike and ride onto the freeway.

"No one else should get hurt right? That's what it says on one of the rule pages."

"Correct."

About an hour later Mia sends him the news story via text that is identical to what he'd written down in the book.

"I'm a murderer."

"I thought that you were Kira's fan. Don't you want purge the world?"

"No! I just-"

"Lightling... if you don't do this I'll kill you and your girlfriend."

"Why me?"

"You're perfect."

~~~~

Okay that was a lot but it's all very important. Thing is... this is a sequel to the original death note and some of the themes I want to address are imposter syndrome and how you can't live in someone else's shadow. Spoiler alert but both "Light" and "L" are living in their successors shadows trying to live up to the expectation's of someone else. 

I also needed to give a reason why Light/Misa/Mikami wouldn't just rid the world of criminals once they became Shinigami. While I could just wipe their memories that wouldn't really explain why a Shinigami would come to earth other than pulling a Riuk and just having them be bored.

(also yes I know Misa didn't really care about being Kira but she may still want to be with Light in the afterlife.)

~~~~

The rest of that night "Light" killed ten criminals; and the next day he confided in Mia.

"So Justice here is your Shinigami."

"Yes."

"And you and me have been chosen as the new Kira's."

"Yes!"

"Give me the book."

"What? Why?"

"Light sweetie, the book." she holds her hand out.

"Fine. But don't be stupid okay."

"Oh and by the way, heart attacks are so cliche. People are already catching on." She whispers and leaves him taking the book with her.

~~~~

I know people didn't like Mia being the assertive one but she doesn't fit the role of Misa either. This whole movie was flawed to begin with and through these changes you get a story about three people with a mountain of expectations thrust upon them. They aren't Light, Misa, and L. That's the point. If you want these three you should watch the Anime.  ~~~~

A week goes by and the two have already filled ten pages through an assortment of different methods of death.

"According to recent chat logs the general populous think Neo Kira based in New York though a popular theory is that they're based out of Greenland. Okay hand me the book I'll start to focus there. draw their attention their."

"No. If we start to bring attention towards one area in particular it'll let people know that we're onto them."

"What does your dad think?"

"My dad thinks Kira is nuts. He and two other officers are apparently trying to catch Kira."

It's then we cut to James (Light's dad) as he enters his office and sees that it's been trashed. James sighs. "Arata!" A younger man appears. 

"They got you too, huh sir?"

"Chief Turner! There's a visitor here to see you! He says he has information on the Neo Kira case." Another man comes over to see James.

"Thank you Philip, bring him in."

Philip goes and returns with an older man dressed in a trench coat and a fedora. He holds up a silver laptop and a fancy white L on a black screen appears. 

"Chief turner! My name is L." A distorted voice cheers. "I'm here to offer my assistance."

"Why are you coming to me?"

"Because you're the only one who believes that Kira is back as well as being brazen and open that he is evil."

"What would we need to do?"

~~~~

You guys may wonder why I added two original characters. Arata is supposed to be a Matsuda stand in and Philip is just supposed to fill out the rest of the motif I'm working with. Chess pieces.

Light and L are the kings because they are both cowards that are spurred to make moves.

Mia and Watari are the "Queens" because they actually do physical stuff but have very little say in what actually goes on.

Arata is the Rook because I thought "Oh Rook. He's new he's the Rookie. Funny"

The name James has connections to the bible and God according to google. So Bishop because they also have connections to the bible and God.

And Philip means horse lover. That feels self explanatory.

~~~~

We cut back to Mia and Light chilling at home. They are watching the news when an emergency broadcast interrupts them. Several reporters are heard in the background.

"I'm sure you're all wondering who I am. My name is Landon Chef and I have been working with L on this investigation. It is in his expert opinion that these deaths are all coincidental. Kira is not back." The news report can be heard in the background as Mia and Light fight.

"Oh hell no!" She screams. She shoots up from the couch and grabs the notebook.

"Mia what are you doing?!" Light grabs the book.

"He's making a fool of us, Light. He's making a fool of Kira!"

"Don't be stupid! This is what they want!"

"Who care! Let's give them what they want!"

"Mia don't be stupid."

"No Light! We have to do this! For Kira! Kira is our god! He's my life, Light."

"Fine. Give me the book, I'll do it."

"I'm more than capable-"

"Give me the book! You want a new god of justice you'll get one! Now give. Me. The. Book."

She hands it over and he jots down the mans name.

Over in the police department the three men working with L look on in horror as their stand in dies. "I told you that they were in Seattle." L said over the computer.

Over the next few weeks the new Kiras continue to murder. The audience is greeted by a montage of the two killing people. Light writing down names and Mia doing the resaerch. We also see them back at their cult. Light starts to use his new name and Mia dies her hair blond. 

Then back at the police department we see that the three men are preparing to meet L face to face. 

"Hello Gentlemen. Please call me L. I'd prefer if we all used code names. After all we don't know what Kira is really capable of."

"Ehem." Watari clears his throat. "Don't give them to much lee way L."

"Sorry Watari."

"I'll be Rook. That's what most people call me anyways."

"Call me Kelpie."

"Chief." James said

"You can continue to call us L and Watari Respectively." L smiles.

"You probably want more sweets, don't you L?" Watari smiles but it's very clearly fake.

"No I'm..." Watari glares at L.

"...you know what? Sure."

~~~~

This seems a bit weird so but it would come up later in the story. I'm just going through a rough draft with some scenes to flesh out the story a bit. So basically this L is the fourth real L. This Watari was the third real L and was the successor to Near who died young. This Watari is very obsessed with the original L. So much so that he makes this new L dress like him (styling his clothes like how Near described him) and keeps him on the sweet heavy diet.

~~~~

After they meet L closes in on Mia and sends Watari to get information on her.

"And what's the purpose of that?" Philip questioned.

"Perry Ethan was found hanging from a tree with lacerations on his thighs and wrists. He didn't have a criminal record so I traced him back to where he lived and found out he's the step father of Mia Sutton. That’s actually how I found out where to trace the murders to.”

“You can’t go after Mia!” James protested.

“And why is that?” L asked

“Because she’s a good kid. She’s kind and caring and she’s kept my son out of trouble!”

“I’m sorry chief turner but Mia is our best bet at finding Neo Kira. If not her then someone close to her.”

“Does that mean my son’s going to be investigated.”

“If need be then yes. What would Watari say? Ah yes, he’s got a 42% chance of being connected to the murders.”

“I’m not going to sit by and watch as you accuse my son!”

“Then help us find Kira. If you believe that your son is innocent help us find other suspects.”

“…what would you have me do?”

“I need you to pull every file you have on the computer and put it on hard copy. The first Kira was the son of the police chief and he accessed classified documents through his father’s computer.”

“Right! You told us that a decade ago.” Arata said.

~~~~

Yeah so basically this Watari exposed Kiras’ identities and while most people were dissuaded from worshipping Kira. But as we know there were still small groups of people.

Mia is in custody and light comes to save her but she’s is just in holding and they haven’t officially arrested her. They have 48 hours to find evidence and arrest her or else she will be let go.

During this time Light and L finally meet. The next few scenes would be a cat and mouse chase. I’m kinda stupid and bad at writing that kinda stuff, so we’re going to skip that.

~~~~

Later on they choose to charge Mia and Light makes the very smart decision to mind control a criminal to walk into the police station and say that he (the criminal) is Kira and then control him to not speak for his stay at the police station. Eventually dying of a heart attack when he is let go. 

L is still convinced that Mia had something to do with it so she remains in custody.

Light starts to panic as Justice implores him to write down someone in the police station. He chooses the clerk who writes in his own blood that he is Kira reincarnated and that Mia is a stupid mortal woman who had nothing to do with the murders.

Despite this L (with the help of Watari) convinces everyone that the Perry Ethan incident still links Mia to the case.

Eventually Light starts to kill people on the other side of the world and they have to let Mia go.

some stuff happens and Light and Mia argue that what both of them did was stupid and Light storms off in a fit of rage.

~~~~

I’m just going to cut to the end.

~~~~

In a fit of rage Light makes several criminals challenge L. Him and L meet and Light asks Justice for the Shinigami eyes. He writes down L’s name as L tackles him and quickly writes down his and Mia’s names too.

Everyone mourns. Everyone moves on and there’s no need for a shitty sequel.

~~~~

Okay finally thoughts, I know that it’s not perfect but I really have no idea what to do with this.

I would like to expand the concepts I have about L and Light living in each of their predecessors shadows and how Light both relishes the attention and fame and power but cracks under the pressure, and L trying his best and failing over and over and how he’s in over his head, then ultimately winning in the end with the killings finally stopping. This was his justice to claim, Lionel Morgan’s view of justice.

It’s bad but I wanted to preserve and expand upon interesting concepts that I don’t think were fully explored by the writers. The shinigami pushing light. Him and Mia having a messed up romance. L being emotional over the lives he’s loosing. Light looking for power but not wanting to be a full on serial killer.

Anyway constructive criticism and questions welcome in the comments section. I’m a humble Druid who enjoys the mysteries the sea has to hold and instead of saying goodbye I’ll just wave. (Get it?) 👋

#death note #l lawliet #l death note #light death note #light yagami death note #ryuk #misa amane #misa death note #death note 2017

[podcastingpineapple]

More about palisade 43 because I cannot be stopped nor silenced, spoilers ahoy

Yes I will listen to the intro again. It is just so very good to hear Millenium Break Radio again, hear them taunting the bilats, SAYING THE NAMES OF THE ONES THEY HAVE LOST. STANDING WHERE THEIR PEOPLE STOOD. STILL FIGHTING THE FIGHT. Brought me so much joy.

...

Bad news: The Principality Is In The Mirage.

Good news: The principality is In The Mirage... AND THEY ARE OUTNUMBERED!!!

...

Everybody rides with Thisbe this episode. Getting... um... "slurped up"? To this trip.

...

This is what Thisbe-Volition -talk felt to me.

Thisbe: is there union

Volition: is there... YES??? THIS IS THE TWILIGHT MIRAGE? What??? HOW BAD IS IT OUT THERE, "IS THERE UNION"?? I'm just being a sun over here because I want to be but like we have like mesh-meetings because everyone works remote

...

Brnine looking at Valence tapes on figure's desk.... feeling their feelings........ oh man.....

Also Jesset. My boy. My sweet babyboy. YOU. DESERVE. BETTER.

Do I mean Motion Stuff or do I mean Brnine? That.... I shan't say.

...

I love detective Eclectic Opposition. You are such a focused individual. There is beauty to the detective figuring things out in a movie and watching how they solve a puzzle, you know? Quire Coalition's Divine Crimes Division (or something) hit this boy up.

...

And Cori.... I honestly did not see this coming. I did not think she would let go of Devotion. Did not think she would reach out to Perennial.

But it makes sense. She cannot help The True Devotion from the inside. Devotion is trapped and cannot aid Cori.

Also she is young and sad and she is reaching for the Last Being who held Figure's life in their hands before it slipped through.

And I love how Perennial is not crying just about Figure. She is crying because she feels WEAK. She feels like she has FAILED, she cannot rewind and do the thing she does.

Of course she cared for Figure. Maybe even loved like she loves all of her... playmates? Playthings? Hirelings? Co-workers? Her witches? She probably has thought of all of them with each of those words. Or at least all of them have thought themselves with few of those terms. But she cannot keep any of them safe anymore.

And Cori holding her?? Good shit. Black russian sage blooming on the mech after the old ones withered and died as a new pact is sealed and there is A Witch Of Perennial in the Mirage...

Fuck. How do you draw a divine without a physical form, crying so hard the universe skipped a beat? How do you draw her putting all of her weight on a little girl who has been using her own blood to power another divine?

Anyway, I want them to save Devotion. Set it free. Steal Devotion from the cult.

To make Palisade better.

I want them to win.

#Palisade 43 #palisade spoilers #PALISADE CRAZY GOOD THIS WEEK

[gwimulchorom]

“你的盼望, 是我握在手中小小的太阳”

Your hopes on me is the little sun I cup in my hands.

--------

They snuggled together in bed, a gesture they seemed to reflect even after years apart. A moment passed before Muirin poised to get up first and Myron reached over, possessively grabbing her sister in a tangle of limbs to ensure she couldn’t escape her deathgrip.

“I have work--” Muirin pushed Myron’s face from her, reaching for a pillow to smack her with, “I can just teleport away, and you know that.” Even then, Myron scoffed, feeling Muirin relax against her despite her protests. 

“I’ll counter it if you try. Cheap spell of the 2nd circle that it is,” Myron grumbled, reeling Muirin back in, “The Twins can wait a moment before opening. We both have Simulacrums going - and a lot of time. Let’s sleep in for a bit more, and then get ourselves a sprawling breakfast.”

Muirin peeked up at Myron, before sliding out from under her. “Are you making it?” she teased, sitting up and reaching over to push Myron back up to a seated position, “Seems like the Roaringhorn’s been doing you some good. Your meals are starting to improve too. Did cooking for 50 people force you to get better ingredients and actually bother to take care of yourself?”

Myron flopped to a seat, ruffling her fluffy head of hair before squinting into space. “Brother very much does the opposite. In fact he tries to cook for me as much as possible...but yes, I’ve been taking better care of myself these days. Can’t fall apart if I’m in charge of so many children now, right? Don’t want them to worry about me as much as possible.”

“If he was abusing your goodwill you know I’d flay him. I’ve always wanted to see what’s inside a celestial being,” Muirin shook her head, fluffing her pillows and neatly setting them aside, “In the end, all it took was letting you adopt a gaggle of kids to have you sort yourself out. You felt so guilty taking favors from me all the time. Why? Making a small personal army in Waterdeep’s name?”

“They can decide what they want to do with their lives. You know better considering we were taken and trained, no say in that matter,” Myron rubbed her eyes before reaching blindly for her seal plushie behind her, slipping the toy inside one of her pouches, “They can be my personal army for all I care, but I doubt the Witch of the North really needs more rumors about her.”

“I like that. Has a mysterious type of zing to it,” Muirin wiggled her fingers, striding over to pull her twin to her feet, “Do they even put two and two together? Those people don’t even know who they’re talking to half the time.”

“No, and I’d like it to be kept that way,” Myron stumbled against her sister’s weight, allowing Muirin to guide her, “Where else am I going to get speculative portraits of myself as a sinister old crone punishing the corrupt and ruining cults? I need to get my entertainment somewhere.”

“Could offer you some jobs,” Muirin let herself bear Myron’s weight as they walked to the kitchen together, “Want to help me kill vampires at Greenest? Thay killed that piece-of-shit tree that was giving us so much trouble, but you know how they’re like about ensuring we’re both out of that picture. If not, I’m sure there’s some logistical paperwork for Greenest and Waterdeep I’ve been putting off. And also building more items for The Twins...”

“Already working on things for sale. Don’t have to tell me twice,” Myron rested her legs on the table, leaning backwards with acrobatic balance, “I don’t mind going to punt some undead. Need to put my arcane armor to the test anyway. I wonder how well the barding sigils would stretch on a dragon’s body...”

“Don’t,” Muirin gave Myron a warning glare, making a gesture to allow coffee to fill both their mugs on its own, “For someone so determined to keep all her identities separate, you keep trying to fly in as a dragon like you aren’t scaring the townsfolk less than two years after a major dragon attack.”

“I’m a nice dragon!” Myron protested as she accepted the coffee, pouting dramatically, “Maybe they need to read up more on the Draconomicon about topaz dragons instead of scattering in fright. I’m cute and lovely.”

“Getting people to read and improve on themselves? Tall order,” Muirin sighed as she evaluated the items in her stash, “What are you feeling this morning?”

Myron jumped to her feet, already limping over to toss around some ingredients Muirin had set out. “Bugs? We could call back to our roots and eat bugs. Personally I’m feeling toast and eggs,” she rambled, already setting aside her ingredients of choice, “How about some sausages? We hardly get sausages coming in these days. I’m so hungry. Maybe I should get Brother to request for more prime cuts from the surrounding regions.”

“We can discuss business later,” Muirin set out the plates, settling in with mug in hand as she leafed through her copy of the Waterdhavian Times, “If you’re hungry, how do you think I feel?”

“Boo. You wouldn’t even help me cut the crust off the toast and butter it,” Myron protested, already skilfully making scrambled eggs on the makeshift grill - a spark of green flame was all it needed to sputter to life, “Is the papers really that much more important than spending time with your beloved sister?”

Muirin sighed, gesturing to the loaf in front of her to start slicing itself. “You pull that all the time. We lived together for months after I found you again, I think I’ve had quite my fill of you,” she muttered, pulling the papers closer to her face.

“Blasphemy. Nobody gets tired of me,” Myron teased, mixing the butter into the eggs with a satisfying sizzle. “I want my toast triangular.”

#you are the sun; and i am just a planet | muirin #who lives; who dies; who tells your story | myron #my work #since apparently Muirin isn't being used she's my OC now

[dustedmagazine]

Act of Impalement — Infernal Ordinance (Caligari)

Infernal Ordinance by ACT OF IMPALEMENT

Infernal Ordinance is the second LP from Act of Impalement, and it’s a satisfying blast of crusty death metal. The best songs on this new record from the Nashville band are its shortest: “Bogbody,” “Creeping Barrage” and “Blasphemous Rebirth” charge past, full of meaty malice. They all have the sort of massive bottom end that crushes you with its malignant weight but somehow boasts zero excess fat. Guitars hammer and buzz with that classic Swedeath tone; they’re also tough and somehow stark. Consistently fired by those sounds and energies, Infernal Ordinance is a clarification and also an advance, the exact opposite of a sophomore slump.

Likely we shouldn’t be surprised by that. Act of Impalement has been putting out music since 2012, most of it in demo form, so the band has had ample opportunity to work out a musical identity. Even so, when they released their LP Perdition Cult in 2018, a generous evaluation of its songs might note their scatterbrained diversity: the death metal and the crusty stuff were sometimes awkwardly coupled to thrash, and the slower, sludgier gestures too often felt stagy. By contrast, Infernal Ordinance sounds like a band playing confidently within itself. When the signature midtempo riff of album opener “Summoning the Final Conflagration” emerges, it’s a piledriver, but it also struts. 

In metal’s current moment of sub-subgenre hybridization, driven in part by our digital attention span (n.b., short and distractable), it’s refreshing to hear an act that understands itself. There are some bands can genre-hop and -blend to enormous effect; Mamaleek and the Body come to mind. But in lesser hands — and there seem to be hundreds of those — it can all get a bit diffuse or dubiously opportunist. To be sure, Infernal Ordinance doesn’t open any new musical horizons. The record is better understood as a sonic version of Thermopylae: purposefully narrowed, bristling with sharp edges and full of grim intent. 

That may be the wrong metaphor. Act of Impalement is not positioned to function as a gatekeeper—of crusty death metal’s questionable purity, or of anything else. The record includes the occasional nod to sludge, especially the closing tune, “Erased.” When that song’s lumbering, truculent pace bottoms out into noisy chaos, it feels necessary, as if things were always going to end that way. Infernal Ordinance is a sustained performance of crusty, guttural dread. 

Jonathan Shaw

#act of impalement #infernal ordinance #caligari #jonathan shaw #albumreview #dusted magazine #death metal #metal #crust

[reidjumpers]

would you ever write something along the line of the minimal loss episode reimagined. so instead of emily being in the ep it’s the reader and spence has the biggest crush on her. it kills him knowing that she’s getting hit and bruised. yeah i don’t know if you would do it but i love that idea.

GUESS WHAT I really love this idea too so I tried to rewrite Minimal Loss reimagined. Please emphasize on tried.

“Which one of you is the FBI agent?”

Spencer could feel his blood run cold at the question Benjamin Cyrus fired at him and you. He subtly glanced towards your direction, pressing his lips and tried his best to maintain his composure. He watched you shift on your seat a little bit, eyeing the gun on Cyrus’s hand intensely.

“Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows in faux confusion.

“God will forgive me for what I must do,” Cyrus said calmly. Too calmly. Spencer gulped as he heard the clicking sound of his gun. He caught the sight of you gaping and eyes widened in horror as a gun aimed against his head.

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“One of you does. Who is it?”

“Me,” your voice was firm, slicing through the thick tension. Spencer slowly turned his head towards you with a wide eye. You glared at him with an eye that screamed don’t you dare at him, determination and fear swirled together in your eyes made him shiver. He could feel dread and helplessness slowly sinking in. “It was me.”

Cyrus lowered his gun that aimed at Spencer, slowly turned his direction towards you. Spencer shot you a glare and silently demanded you for explanation at your stupid sacrifice. You had just deflated your own fear and bargained for your safety in order to save him. There was a bitter taste curled and overwhelmed him at the tip of his tongue upon knowing he couldn’t do anything to diffuse the situation.

Spencer let his shoulder sink a little bit as Cyrus silently holstered his gun into his pants, allowing himself a brief relief upon knowing that he didn’t have to watch your demise today. It took everything inside him not to jump and inserted himself in between you and Cyrus as he yanked you to the ground by hair and a sound of your pained whimper filled the room. He couldn’t even bring himself to flinch when a rifle aimed towards him as his eyes fixated on the sight of you being dragged across the room.

“I told you not to put me in this position!” Cyrus snarked, releasing his hold on you and slammed you to the concrete floor. Spencer bit the inside of his cheeks and could feel the tip of his fingertips go frozen as dread and fear pumped rapidly into his system.

The sound of you being slapped filled the room made him flinch a little bit. He glanced briefly towards the rifle against him, giving him a brief break from the horrifying sight before him. Spencer could feel anger and disappointment filled him with the knowledge that he couldn’t do anything besides watching you being beaten mercilessly by Cyrus. It was supposed to be him. It was supposed to be him who took all the beating instead of you. You were everything good left in the world and you are a living reminder that there are lights and hope in life despite all the horror and worst face of humanity he was constantly being contaminated with.

What would he do if you were gone then? The brief horrifying thought flashed before his eyes as he watched Cyrus slammed your defenseless body into the ground again. He could feel hot tears prickling in his eyes at the thought of living his life in void and helplessness if you ceased to exist before his eyes. Spencer collapsed his balled fist into his lap as the realization that he couldn’t live without you washed through him.

Spencer squeezed his eyes shut as your body was slammed against the wall and hit the mirror, refusing to picture the sharp shard of glass cutting your skin.

“Proverb 23rd tells us that bloods and wounds cleanse out evil,” Cyrus recited as he yanked you by the collar again and slammed you against the wall. Spencer could feel anger and disdain boiled inside him as he watched your body helplessly fall into the floor after the impact of your collision with the wall.

“I can take it,” you said with a firm voice. Spencer caught your eyes briefly as your eyes flickered in between him and Cyrus that stood in between you and him.

His heart fell into the bottom of his stomach like a heavy sandbag. He knew what you meant from your firm stares alone. You only said that to reassure him and signal the team outside not to come in a rush. It was a minimal loss situation, Spencer had concluded. He drew a sharp breath as he mentally prepared himself for a situation where he couldn’t possibly save everyone and had to accept however many people he could save while others perished.

Spencer glanced up to meet your eyes again before Cyrus moved to block his sight. He furrowed his eyebrows at the sight of your eyes screaming I’m fine, I’m okay at him with blood flowing freely from your broken nose. Dread settled painfully in his bones that the possibility of the team having to choose between your life or his was too close than he liked.

He blinked his eyes to shoo away the tears that threatened to fall. He couldn’t afford it. He couldn’t risk blowing up another cover that guaranteed his life when you had sacrificed yours for him.

Cyrus beat and slapped you for another round with disdain painted clearly on his face. “Pride comes before the fall,” he said as he punched your stomach and slammed you to the floor, thinking you were antagonizing him as you repeatedly said you could take it. Spencer let out a relieved sigh as Cyrus took a step back from you and left you shaking with pain on the ground, instructed Cristopher to tie you up and took you upstairs.

Not today, he reassured himself. Forcing himself to be satisfied and grateful for your spared life. Not today.

***

Spencer had just successfully coaxed Cyrus into testing the negotiator for the FBI and proving them that they were not a liar and ensuring your safety. Disgust and anger brewing at the pit of his stomach every time Cyrus glanced his eyes towards him. He somewhat marveled at the plain trust Cyrus gave him effortlessly. The memory of him beating you hadn’t left his mind, still painted fresh and clear as if it still happened before his eyes. He had to mentally restrain himself from glaring in disgust at the thought of Cyrus molesting a child and beating you up until bloody and bruised.

“What is it, Christopher?” Cyrus addressed his man that had been trying to shot down Spencer’s suggestion regarding the situation. Only then Spencer turned his attention fully at him who had been pacing around in agitation repeatedly.

“Some of them had been talking about leaving,” he sighed.

“Leaving?” Cyrus pressed his lips together as Christopher affirmed his question. Spencer balled his fist and hid it inside the pocket of his pants as he waited in antagonizing anticipation with whatever next step Cyrus would take. “Wake the baby. Let’s get them meet the orphan that they made.”

Spencer nodded mutely at Cyrus’s decision. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding this whole time, letting himself loose a little bit and allowed himself to feel relief washed through him. Cyrus had taken the big bait and he had ensured your safety with his lies and negotiation skill. It was the least thing he could do after what you did for him.

He knew he would be damned if he couldn’t get you out of his god forsaken place alive. For now he just has to give and surrender with whatever fate is waiting for him into the hands of the team waiting outside. He took one longing glance outside from the window, wishing that he would be staring into the starless sky with you right now.

***

Spencer watched from the back silently as the members of the cult filled the empty chair inside the chapel one by one. What was once an empty and quiet chapel now buzzing with life and the air was stale and raked with fear. The negotiation test went as smoothly as Spencer could wished for. He heard Rossi rattling out your identity to Cyrus in exchange for your safety from a speaker phone as they released the orphan into the team outside.

You emerged from the opposite end of the chapel, a swarm of children and women pushed through from behind you. Spencer stared and watched the way the sunlight that slips through the chapel window fell into your skin. The glowing sunlight from behind your back casted a halo behind your figure. He noticed that your blood had been cleaned up and there were a few specks of dried blood on the collar of your shirt. Some newly formed bruises littered your face, angry and red and was a painful sight to behold. He hated it.

Cyrus was listing out names from the list he had written the day before as Spencer slowly made his way towards you. Everyone’s attention was focused on their leader calling out the names on the altar, but Spencer’s focus was solely on you. Your eyes were watching Cyrus solemnly as you leaned yourself into the wall to support your weight.

Spencer lifted his hand to touch your face and stopped midair before he realized a tad bit too late. His finger twitched painfully with a burning desire to feel you underneath his fingertips, but he couldn’t risk another round of beating and blowing up plans that had been rolling quite smoothly so far.

Guilt surged inside him like the sea, disdain and bitterness brewing and threatening to explode from the bottom of his stomach. He could feel himself dying a little bit inside at the frightening state you were in, all because you were sacrificing your life for him. For his sake when he wasn’t even sure he deserved it.

You finally acknowledged his presence and spared him a glance. Your eyebrows furrowed together in distress and Spencer had to restrain himself from the temptation to put his thumb in between your eyebrows and smoothen out your stress wrinkle between your eyebrows. If he could take away all your pain, he would.

“He looks pissed,” you whisper-yelling at him. Spencer couldn’t bring himself to respond to your words. Even after you took the downfall and hard beatings for him, you still think about other’s well-being instead of yours.

You took another glance towards him from the lack of response from his part. Your eyes scanned his face briefly before your lips twitched into a soft, reassuring smile. “I’m okay. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Spencer shook his head, refusing to believe your words. “I’m so sorry,” he croaked, his voice hoarse and full of regret scratching his throat painfully.

“No, no,” you shook your head and quickly squashed his apology. “No apologies. We both know one of us has to take it.”

“But why should it be you?” Spencer hissed through his greeted teeth. His distress and agitation, and overall emotions that he had been trying to tuck and buried it away seeped into the surface. He could feel his mask cracking and threatened to be broken, and he was thankful for the roaring voice of Cyrus listing out names that masked his own. “Why should it be you? Why couldn’t it be me?”

“He had a gun against your head, Reid!” you hissed back with an equal amount of emotions laced on your voice. “I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t let them kill you. I know they would kill you first if one of us refused to answer. I can’t, Spencer, I—” you took a sharp breath and glanced away from his prying wide eyes. He could hear your voice wavering and your eyes glossed with tears. “Look at the people he’s releasing.”

“It’s the one who failed the loyalty test,” he observed. The previous slip of emotions was being put to the back of his mind again as he noticed the new fact he just found. “I’ll get word to the team, wait for the sign from outside indicating what time the raid will come.”

You stared at him with a wide eye, confusion and fear swirled together. You looked so vulnerable and small like that, like a polished porcelain that could crumble into dust anytime. Spencer nodded firmly and gave you a reassuring smile, silently asking you to believe him. He almost jolted with surprise when you grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly and briefly, understanding what he was trying to do.

“Be careful,” you whispered.

He nodded and turned away to make his way to Cyrus, not believing himself to utter any single words without breaking down. He was determined to make sure you were safe and would make it out alive, whatever it takes.

“Told her she shouldn’t have blinded you like that,” Spencer told Cyrus with a faux exasperation and disappointment. He shuddered when Cyrus nodded sympathetically.

“To either of us,” he corrected him sympathetically, which made Spencer want to do nothing but curl up in disgust. Cyrus jerked his chin towards your direction and addressed Christopher, “Bring her back.”

Spencer watched you being dragged up by your upper arms into wherever they were keeping you. He forcefully gulped and shook away the lump of dread on his throat, disbanding it as soon as it was formed. His eyes were apologetic and yours were nothing but filled with determination and forced bravery.

Those who had failed for the test were ushered out of the farm through the front door. Spencer mentally counted the amount of people who walked out into a guaranteed safety, relieved that it held a much greater amount that he had prepared. It was only a matter of saving the rest and finding a way in for the team to bring you and him out of this place.

Cyrus was making his final and last negotiation call with Rossi, asking for a fried chicken and its sides for their last supper and the presence of media to document his sacrifice to God. A suicide attempt to bring down himself and his faithful fanatic followers was a more appealing option to him rather than surrender himself to the authority apparently. It was obvious from the first time Spencer stepped into the building, but it still didn’t fail to fill him with dread and fear.

“I’m always looking for signs of things to come,” Spencer explained to Christopher with a polite smile after he demanded how he had known Cyrus’s plan of final act of sacrifice all along. He maintained his gaze firmly and silently wishing that the team would catch his words through the parable microphone planted outside. It would be his only hope and way for them to come in.

***

Thick smog and fire blinded his sight and blocked his way. Spencer stumbled upon a block of brunt wooden log as Morgan dragged his limping body outside the chapel. Cyrus was dead, but Jesse had finished his suicide mission by blowing up the chapel and the rest of the building. He could hear sirens blaring outside and faint sounds of wails and fearful screams mixed together in the air.

The thought of you trapped inside the building flashed before his eyes for a moment. He didn’t have a moment to glance back to make sure about your whereabouts as he kept coughing and stumbling, Morgan’s grip still firm on his upper hand to drag him outside into safety. Fear started to paralyze his body that he nearly fell into the concrete fall face first. He just needed to see you, to make sure you were safe.

He didn’t know that the sight of armed soldiers and police cars could bring an immense amount of comfort for him. Spencer nearly cried at the overwhelming relief that he was out unharmed, slipped by the last strand of his hair from his ultimate demise. But he couldn’t allow himself to be relieved and comfortable before he knew where you were. Before he knew if you were safe.

“Spencer!” your voice came faintly in between the chaotic sirens and the sound of angry fire eating up the chapel. “Morgan!”

Spencer watched you squirm out of Emily’s embrace, running limpy towards him. He knew he had burst into tears as soon as his eyes landed on you, safe, alive, although littered with bruises and dried blood on your shirt. His shoulders sank and shook as your arms wrapped around him tightly, all the horror, fear, and dread that he didn’t allow himself to feel in the past few days before had rushed into him and knocked all the air out of his lungs.

Relief and comfort of knowing you were safe in his arms was a breath of fresh air for his burned lungs. Usually he would squirm at the thought of touching someone, but the steady rise of your chest as you breath against him overcame all the unfortunate uncomfortable thoughts that came with the activity of hugging someone.

“You’re safe,” Spencer gasped as he released you from his embrace. He was aware that everyone was watching him hugging you and he fought all the mortification that slowly crept up his cheeks. He tried to mask it away as being a relief to find his coworker made it out alive from the sticky hostage situation.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you reassured him with one last firm squeeze on his arms. He wanted nothing but to pull you into his arms again, shield you for any harms lurking in the outside world. The anger that had been forgotten on the back of his mind surged inside him again. But he had to be satisfied with only one final squeeze as you parted from him to be checked by the paramedics.

The flight back to Quantico was quiet and a peaceful one. Everyone was winding up and breathing from the horror of the case that just wrapped up. Spencer tried his best to distract his mind with his book, burrowed in the furthest corner of the jet as the comforting and steady hum of the jet lulled him to sleep.

You slipped into the empty seat right across from him. A weak smile and a timid greeting were exchanged between you and silence followed right after. Spencer knew what conversation would follow after this, and he didn’t want to face it just yet. He had stopped reading from the moment you took the seat and watched him with careful eyes, but he still put up the act in the hope it would steer you away from bursting his bubble.

It did not. Spencer didn’t put up a fight as you gently took his book away from his hands and placed it gently on the table.

“I need you to listen to me,” you started with a firm voice. You were wearing the nice lilac shirt that Spencer liked, and the bruises on your face had started to heal and fade away. “What Cyrus did to me is not your fault. It was my decision and I would do it again.”

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but you tilted your head with your lips pressing together, discouraging him to counter your statement. He took a sharp breath and shook his head.

“Do you hear me?” your voice was softer this time. Your hands silently reached for his and held them gently. Your thumb made a soothing pattern on his knuckles, a reassuring and determined smile was on your face. Spencer couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. “Do you hear me, Spencer? I will do it again. It wasn’t your fault. It was my decision.”

“I know,” he answered finally.

“Thank you.”

“Please know that I will do the same for you.”

His words had caught you off guard. You stared briefly before nodding, patting the top of his hand gently with your hand as you gave him a really bright smile. Spencer let himself sink further into the comfortable leather seat and let relief washed through him again. Everything will be okay.

#spencer reid #minimal loss #criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #cm #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #cm fluff #cm angst #mgg #matthew gray gubler #minimal loss reimagined

[donald4spiderman]

Ok hear me out. Spencer is dating Reader and she’s always hated that she’s been more chubby/curvy. And one night in the middle of a case she calls him crying and Spencer just gets really soft and calms her down after a bad nightmare. And his heart breaks cause his loving girlfriend hates her body. So Spencer plans this elaborate date and proposes maybe? You can decide if the team have met her or not. I’d like it to be the original team but if you wanna combine the original and new teams together that’s cool too!

no bc my body image issues have been rampant lately so this is personal as hell to me. I work out a lot and i’m fit but i’ve never been SKINNY like i have thick legs and muscular arms andnnfnfjndjnffn so this is personal.

I modified this a bit but it’s still the same premises hope you like it! ***BTW IN THIS UNIVERSE THE S3-7 CAST EXISTS FOR THE ENTIRE SHOW— SO THE LATER SEASONS HAVE MORGAN AND HOTCH.

also sorry this is a long

TW: body image issues, discussions of food & weight, insecurity, crying, kissing

WC: 1.5k

-

You know, pragmatically, that you have nothing to worry about. Spencer chose you. And for the past four years, Spencer has worshipped you every day— again and again. He is the most loving, considerate, and tender partner you could ever wish for. He is near perfection.

You’ve met Spencer's friends many times. You’re not close with either of your parents, so the team of profilers welcomed you into their arms with grace and care. Each and every one of them is beautifully amazing and exceptionally brilliant.

Spencer‘s friends are not only badass, but they’re also gorgeous. JJ, Emily, and Garcia are national treasures— so visually stunning it’s almost sickening.

You knew he used to have a crush on JJ way before he met you. You’ve also heard the tale of Lila Archer, the celebrity actress who made out with your boyfriend in a pool. Spencer’s had an eventful life, full of beautiful, sweet, magnificent women— so why does he choose you?

You view yourself as bland in comparison. What do you have to offer Spencer that he can’t find elsewhere? You don’t have toned abs, slim hips, and slender arms. You’re not striking in any way.

Spencer calls you every night when he’s away on a case. He’s never missed a call, even when he got shot in the neck and kidnapped by a murderous cult. He’s reliable and consistent, and that eases your worries a little bit.

It’s eleven pm in D.C. and your phone rings right as your getting in bed.

“Hi, my love,” Spencer says breathily, his voice slightly muffled by the phone. He’s away in Ohio for a case.

“Hey.” You reply, the sweetness in his voice soured by your mood. “How’s the case going?”

“Good. JJ and I are about to pass out in our beds— we’re so tired.”

You can’t help the way your face drops. “Oh. Well, get rest.”

Your about to hang up before he interjects. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Why?” You know better than to lie to your boyfriend, who happens to be an expert on human behavior.

“Okay, I know a lie when I hear one. (Y/N), baby, what’s wrong?” He pleads.

You can’t help the tear that rolls down your cheek. “God, I’m sorry. I just miss you so much. You always know what to do when I’m feeling like shit.”

Spencer knows how much you struggle with self and bodily acceptance. He hates the world for making you feel anything less than incredible, both inside and out.

“I miss you too, so much, (Y/N).” His voice is thick as if he’s going to start crying too. “I love you so much, so fucking much. You have no idea how beautiful and amazing you are.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” He laughs through a sob that wrecks his body. “You deserve everything in this world. I promise to give you everything you’ve ever wanted. You are the love of my life.”

You wipe the tears from underneath your eyes. “Sorry for keeping you up. You must be tired.”

“Never, if it means I get to talk to you.”

“I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you too, (Y/N). More than you’ll ever know.”

-

Spencer wakes up the next day with a newfound determination. The team solves the case as fast as possible, and by the end of the night, they’ve boarded the jet back home.

Spencer has more than enough hours to think about you and how much you mean to him. Hotch is seated directly across from him, rereading the case files.

“Hotch?” The wiser man looks up from his files, raising an eyebrow.

Spencer pauses for a moment. Maybe he’d be better asking Morgan or JJ for advice, considering Hotch’s tragic circumstances regarding Haley.

But no one loves like Hotch does-- sincerely, passionately-- stronger than anything else in the world. Spencer decides there’s no one better to ask.

“How uh did you know that Haley was the one?”

Hotch’s eyes soften for a bit. He clears his throat. “I knew since the day I met her that I would love her for the rest of my life unconditionally. She makes me complete. Do you feel that (Y/N) makes you complete?”

He already knows why Spencer is asking for his advice, steering the conversation in that direction.

“Yes. She’s my world.” Spencer whispers.

“Then it’s simple, really. Love doesn’t need to be complicated and precise. It’s what you do with it that matters.”

“I want to marry her, Hotch. I want to be with her for the rest of my life.”

Hotch smiles, “Then do it.”

Spencer feels the rush of excitement as he gathers everyone on the jet, including the prior sleeping passengers, filling them in on his big plans.

“I need all of your guys’ help.”

-

There’s a firm knock on your door at four in the morning. You know it isn’t Spencer because he has a key, but who could it be?

You take a cautious look out of your peephole to find Penelope, Emily, and JJ outside.

“What are you guys doing here?” You yawn. “For god's sake, it’s four am.”

“We know, and we’re sorry.” Penelope smiles.

“Is Spencer alright?” You ask, wondering if things suddenly went wrong during the case.

But by the joyous look on their face, you know nothing somber occurred.

“Spencer’s completely fine. But, we need to you to get changed and come with us. FBI’s orders.” JJ chuckles.

You change into warmer clothes in minutes, and the BAU ladies usher you into Emily’s car as fast as possible.

“So, no ones gonna tell me what’s going on?”

They shake their heads, “We’re just... running a quick errand.”

After a few more minutes of driving, Emily parks on the side of a dimly lit street.

“I need you to put this on.” She says, holding up a blindfold.

“Are you guys gonna murder me?” You joke, slipping the fabric over your eyes with little resistance.

“Quite the opposite, actually.” You don’t have time to think about what Penelope means before you’re being yanked out of the car.

You walk, guided by JJ, for four minutes. The grass beneath you crushes below your boots, and the hushed whispers of Emily and Penelope behind you do nothing to calm your nerves.

“Okay,” JJ says, halting to a stop. “You can take off your blindfold now.”

You hesitantly slip the blindfold off, revealing a brightly lit table in the middle of a secluded field. Morgan, Hotch, and Rossi are standing off to the sides.

Suddenly, Spencer emerges from behind a tree, dusting the leaves and dirt off his adorable sweater.

“Hi?” You laugh, utterly confused by this situation. “What’s going on?”

His hands are shaking, and he has to swallow a few times before he can speak. “I-I uh got y-you apple pie— uh your favorite.”

Spencer walks you towards the table, where a small slice of warm pie sits lonely on the table.

“Y-you should um... eat it.” He urges, pointing at the knife and fork next to it.

You glance around, trying to gauge the emotions of everyone around you, but fail. Stupid profilers and their poker faces.

Your fork cuts into the heavenly smelling pie, and you scoop up a bite into your mouth.

“It’s... good? I’ll pretty much eat any pie you give me, Spencer.”

He smiles, “I know that. But t-this is a special pie.”

“Okay...”

“You should t-take a closer look— at the pie.”

You inspect the dessert, completely puzzled until a glinting piece of silver catches your eye. Spencer notices the shock in your face and catches the plate that almost falls out of your hand.

Morgan hands him a napkin, and when Spencer pulls an apple-covered ring from the slice of pie, you almost faint.

“No way.” You gasp; tears spring to your eyes as Spencer wipes the ring clean.

He holds it tightly between two fingers, bending to kneel on one knee.

“(Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), I knew from the moment I met you that you were the most special woman I’d have the pleasure of meeting. A month later, you asked me out for our first date, and I couldn’t believe that someone as gorgeous and amazing as you would settle for someone like me.” You scoff at his humility.

“I spend every moment loving every part of you, (Y/N). None of my love will ever stop— ever. I promise to share my heart with you until the very end. There is absolutely no one I would rather be bonded to for the rest of my life. You are better than my dream girl because you’re real. You’re here, and you chose to love me every day— the good, the bad, and the ugly. (Y/N), will you do me the honor and great privilege of allowing me to become your husband?” You silently sob.

“Please say yes.” Spencer smiles.

“Yes!” You exclaim, pulling him up to hug him. “How could I say anything but!”

The dam breaks, and the entire team begins to cry as you and Spencer share a passionate kiss, almost collapsing down onto the grass from the sheer force of your love. He slips the ring onto your finger; it belongs there.

“I choose you, (Y/N).” He repeats.

“I choose you, Spencer, always.” You whisper into the crook of his neck.

Nothing’s ever felt so right.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #sub!spencer #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #dr reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #spence #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic

[magnusmysteries]

Part 32: When Rituals Fail UPDATE

Posting this with something added. Added stuff in bold.

The Magnus Archives was a horror podcast. It is now completed. Many of the show’s mysteries were never explained on the show. I intend to explain them. Spoilers for the show, but also spoilers if you wanna solve these mysteries yourself.

Elias thought that the reason the rituals failed was because the fears could never be separated. That it would be impossible to bring just one through, it had to be all. I think he was wrong, for three reasons.

First reason. Here’s a quote from Elias, where he explains why it is impossible to separate the fears “To try and create a world with only the Buried makes as much sense as trying to conceive a world with only down.”

But we have seen such a world. Quote from Entombed “This is forever deep below creation. Where the weight of existence bears down. This is The Buried, and we are alive. There isn’t even an up.”

The Buried is a world without the Hunt. The Hunt can’t reach Daisy there, because the Hunt and Buried are opposites (See Part 3). Elias uses the absence of up, as an example of an impossibility. But John says in the Buried there is no up. I think this was specifically written to clue us in to Elias being wrong.

Second reason, every time we hear of a ritual there is always a reason why they fail. The reason isn’t always obvious, but I’ll go through most of them in this post. Elias based his conclusion on the assumption that there was no reason for the Dark’s ritual to fail. He was wrong, as I’ll explain.

Every attempted ritual, except the ones involving John and Agnes, has a group of people choosing something related to the fear. (With a broad definition of choice.) If only one person does not make the choice, the ritual fails.

The Lonely. A group of people in an apartment building were all supposed to choose to be lonely (rather than move out of the nice cheap apartment). Gertrude wrote about it in a paper, the people got help, they weren’t lonely, the ritual failed.

The Slaughter. The soldiers are supposed to brutally murder each other. But the statement giver doesn’t like killing. He is not swayed by the music, he does not join in on the violence. The ritual fails.

The Hunt. Daisy speculated this failed because the Hunt doesn’t like to complete things. She was wrong. The people were supposed to join in the obsession of the hunt, to kill vampires and probably to die. But the statement giver was only pretending to be obsessed, the ritual fails.

The Corruption. This is from the episode Love Bombing. (John was wrong that the Prentiss attack was a grand ritual.) Here the choice is to love. First they take care of a sick dog. That is, they love it. Then they have to love and join the monster mass of people.

The part where they have to say they love each other, it’s a test, to see if they are ready for the ritual. The protagonist did not love the other woman, and so she is told to leave. She is jeopardizing the ritual.

Note that she is not forced to leave, or killed. Had there been force or violence the ritual would have failed. That’s another rule for the rituals.

I think when she left, it was already too late and the ritual failed. Or maybe it failed when it got blown up. Probably by Gertrude.

I think nobody in the cult was working for the Corruption originally. The Corruption just found a cult that was really into love and thought “Jackpot! Send in the dog!”

The Buried. The choice here is for everyone in town to get into the pit at the same time. When the statement giver comes to town, he is told to leave. But not forced, significantly. He is jeopardizing the ritual, because he might not climb into the pit with the others.

The statement giver has a “dream” where he willingly climbs into the pit and puts his arm into the hole. Though it’s not really a dream. This is a test, and he passed. Whoever’s in charge decides to go ahead with the ritual.

This is a mistake. The statement giver does not go into the pit with the others. A woman in the pit suddenly begins to scream. Not because she is in the pit, but because she noticed the statement giver is not in the pit. She knows the ritual is about to fail and it does.

Later Gertrude shows up and dumps Jan Kilbride into the pit. She thinks she stopped the ritual, but she was too late. The ritual had already failed.

The Flesh. The choice is for everyone to throw meat into the pit. (I’m guessing they also all have to die from exhaustion and get thrown in the pit or jump in, but we don’t see that part). When Tom Haan notices Lucia Wright is present, he hands her meat. He hopes she will take it and join in, which she does. Had she not done so, the ritual would have failed. If she had left, the ritual would have failed. If Tom had killed her or forced her to join in, the ritual would have failed.

The ritual fails anyway, because Gertrude blows it up.  

The Spiral. Quote from Michael “A thousand staring morsels stood, and not one of them believed themselves sane to look upon it.”

If one of the humans there had believed themselves to be sane the ritual would have failed.

Actually there was a person there who believed they were sane. More from Michael: “Michael did not go mad, though no words you could have said would have convinced him otherwise. (…) If Michael thought he had lost his mind, it was only because what he saw with crystal clarity was simply not something that could be real. But Gertrude Robinson did not waver. (…) She gave no indication that she saw anything more or less than was expected. Hers was not a mind that left room for doubt.”

Gertrude didn’t realize, but there was no need to sacrifice Michael Shelley. The ritual would have failed simply by her presence.

The Stranger. When John and the gang set up the explosives to blow up the Unknowing, Nikola does nothing to stop them. She knows they are there. She waits until they have set up the explosives before she starts the ritual.

There are no other victims there than the Magnus crew. They are the ones that are supposed to make the choice. The choice they are supposed to make is to use logic and reason during the Unknowing. Nikola has to give them a chance to win, and part of that is she lets them set up the explosives.

In the 1787 attempt at the Unknowing, the ritual is stopped by a soldier from the Slaughter. The soldier is not confused: “I was sure he was a soldier, and he was nothing but a soldier.”

In Nemesis Gertrude speculates that the Unknowing can only be stopped if the explosives are detonated from within Unknowing. Meaning, someone has to “choose” to use enough reason to set it off.

Just four victims is a small number. But I think John counts extra, since he is the Archivist and should be harder to confuse.

Maybe Elias made a deal with Nicola, told her about their plan. After all, Elias wants John to get blown up, to get the End scar.

Elias advised John not to bring Tim to the ritual. Tim seems pretty suicidal at this point, earlier he dared Elias to kill him. Elias is worried that if Tim is the one to blow up the ritual, John won’t get the End scar.

The ritual fails because Basira reasons her way out. Or maybe it fails because Breekon uses violence against Daisy, not sure.

John is at first very confused, but then he starts to see more clearly. That is because the ritual is already failing, because of Basira (or Breekon). There is no need for Tim to blow up the place and sacrifice himself.

The Eye. We don’t know much about Elias’ first attempt at a ritual, but it seemed to take place in the panopticon prison, with Elias in the middle, watching the prisoners around him. The prisoners were probably supposed to make some kind of choice, and at least one of them failed to do so.

The Dark. The darkness ritual first begins to collapse at Hither Green, where it is led by Natalie.

Quote from Manuella “Natalie and the others followed, but they did not truly understand. Not truly, with their talk of peace and unity and Mr. Pitch. A friendly name, to try and hide from a concept they couldn’t grasp.”

In the episode Police Light the darkness creature inside Rayner is trying to get a new host, by entering Callum Brody. Then the police intervene and shoot Rayner, saving Brody from being possessed. But a droplet of the monster hits the police officer Altman. Altman is in the process of being possessed. Then Altman is stabbed and killed by Natalie Ennis.

There is misdirection here. We are supposed to believe that Natalie stabbed Altman because he was a cop. But actually she killed him because he was possessed. She was secretly working against the darkness cult.

Why? Gertrude must at this point have realized how a ritual will fail if one person makes the wrong choice. She must have talked with Natalie and explained to her that Mr. Pitch is a lie. That the Darkness is not about peace and unity. So because of Natalie the ritual failed.

The third reason for why Elias is wrong is the most important, and I’ll cover it in the next post.

If Elias is wrong that a ritual must draw in all the fears at once, why is it that no ritual has succeeded throughout all of history? I think there just hadn’t been that many attempts.

In Family Business Gerard says if a ritual fails, it takes centuries to build up enough power to attempt one again. Yet we hear of several ritual attempts happening very close together in time: the Lonely circa 2007, the Spiral sometime after 2007, the Buried in 2008, the Flesh in 2008, the Corruption circa 2012, the Dark in 2015, the Stranger in 2017 and the Eye in 2018. How can that be?

In the Architecture of Fear, Smirke says he wrote down several rituals. Since Smirke lived a couple of hundred years ago, it could mean most of his rituals were attempted back then, and that’s why most of them were due to be attempted again around 2007. But that gives us the same problem, just further back in time. Why was it that most of the rituals could have been attempted about the same time, back when Smirke wrote them down?

I think the reason was, most of the powers had never attempted a ritual before Smirke designed them. The Powers have no creativity (see Part 9) and could not have attempted a ritual until a person came up with one. Smirke says he is unsure if all the powers had rituals before he put pen to paper.  

I think there were two rituals that Smirke designed that were attempted relatively long after his death. The Slaughter ritual probably needed a great war to succeed, and therefore did not happen until War War 2. And the Hunt ritual took over a hundred years to set up, as it included two groups of explorers from over a hundred years apart.

Three rituals predate Smirke’s creations, those of the Dark, The Vast and the Stranger.

Smirke got his ideas for rituals after hearing of the ritual of the Dark. In Heart of Darkness, Manuella implies her ritual had been planned for three hundred years, after the failure that birthed the thing inside Rayner. I think when Flamsteed drowned Reimer in The Movement of the Heavens, he stopped the first ritual of the Dark. Reimer was drowned May 2 1715. On May 3 1715 there was a Total Eclipse that could be seen in London. (That date is from real life, not mentioned on the show.) I think that’s when the first Darkness ritual was gonna happen.  

The first Unknowing happened in 1787, Smirke was born in 1780. So unless he invented it as a child, it predates him.

In Big Picture Simon talks about the last ritual he attempted, in 1853. That implies he’s had at least one earlier attempt. Simon became an avatar in the 1500s, so he’d probably only had time to do two ritual attempts in total.

What was Simon’s first ritual? In Literary Heights we hear the plot of Ex Altiora: Villagers prepare to do battle against a large monster. But the monster turns out to be too vast and the villagers throw themselves off a cliff. That sounds like a Vast ritual. Perhaps it failed because not all the villagers jumped off the cliff.

Maybe Simon wrote Ex Altiora to use in the ritual. It is from the sixteen hundreds, so it could be from about two hundred years before Simon’s second ritual.

#the magnus archives #tma #MagnusPod #gertrude robinson #Elias Bouchard

[initiumseries]

Hey! I love your thoughts on bad tv and I’d love to hear a series wrap up on CAOS if you want to make a post about it. If not no worries and thanks for posting your thoughts on the show over the last year. Loved them and love your blog too!

Thank you!! Sure I can totally do a series wrap up, pretty much right now, in response to this ask. 

So, if I had to distill my issues with this series into a few bullet points it would be: 

-plot -world building/continuity -characters

Plot

CAOS struggles with plot, and I think the biggest reason why, is they just seemed to completely lose track of what the hell they were doing lol. Season 1, ends up being the tightest season because the plot was simple: Sabrina’s dark baptism and her leaving her mortal life behind to become one with witchkind. They beat us to death with the Satan stuff, and they cram as much corny imagery as possible in, even if it doesn’t really make sense. 

why are they having class in a hallway? Do witches not use technology? Why is that blackboard so small? Why isn’t this just a normal classroom setting?

Sabrina’s Season 1 character arc is also clear: she decides, fuck the rules, she’s going to straddle both worlds and everyone’s just gonna have to accept it. It’s not good, but it’s clear. S2, 3, 4 get completely lost in all this other weird stuff. Sabrina is actually not her father’s daughter, but Satan’s, and that plotline goes absolutely nowhere when Sabrina conveniently doubles herself (and experiences 0 consequences for it) and rules hell while also staying in Greendale as herself (seriously, it’s not like satan was dying or anything, he was perfectly fine. For what reason did Sabrina need to become Queen? There’s no answer or explanation for that, she just...did. Ok :/).  Father Blackwood goes apeshit and pulls a Jonestown, for no real reason, CAOS starts leaning heavily into this white feminism stuff (for godsake, the coven kills a DEMON, with the fucking pain of childbirth?! Are you SERIOUS??) Then, s3, it’s about losing their powers because Satan is childish and petty, and a new group of spellcasters are out to kill the witches, and Prudence and Ambrose hunting Blackwood. S4, the eldritch terrors, which honestly, make so little sense, I couldn’t even be bothered. Each season, CAOs falls deeper into the trap of trying to up the ante, make the danger BIGGER, WILDER, more insurmountable, while being completely unprepared to stay consistent with their characters/motivations and undercutting their own BIG ideas with stupid, nonsensical solutions (let me trap this all powerful eldritch terror by taking it to a party, proposing and luring it into a magicked dollhouse...wtf?). 

Worldbuilding/Continuity

What I hate most about these writers for Riverdale and CAOS is that they just don’t feel beholden to being consistent in their worldbuilding and continuity. I don’t find anything cool about kids living in houses with old tvs and rotary phones, but then having a cell phones or wearing modern clothes. Historical anachronisms like that should serve a purpose. 

It COULD be interesting if the conceit is that Zelda and Hilda are OLD, so they take comfort in old things like that, but then that should be specific to the Spellman house, and it should be weird. People should take note of it when they’re there, Sabrina should be conscious of it because she grew up in a time where TVs didn’t look like they were stuck in the 50s. But instead, it’s just...a stupid mess of aesthetic anachronisms for no reason other than they can do it and I just find that to be lazier than utilizing those details in an interesting way. 

In season 1, we get a relatively clear idea that the witches have a certain way of life, that bleeds into season 2. It’s still very sloppy; the anti-pope, using satan where we’d use “god”, introducing the feast and other dangerous parts of being a witch, and essentially just doing the opposite of christianity (except for the racism/sexism ofc. That would require too much thinking I guess). But by season 3, essentially the witches’ way of life have been completely turned upside down. And we never...unpack that. There’s no mourning for literal millennia of supposed tradition, there’s no real floundering or struggling. There are apparently no other adults AT ALL in this magical world outside of Blackwood, Zelda and Hilda, so there’s no real way to get a sense of the REALITY of losing their way of life for these witches, or this world. Is it even a world? Or just a handful of people? Lol. What it means to have to choose a new god to pray to, and is there an divisiveness over who? In Harry Potter, the kids’ parents are tangentially involved when they start pulling their kids out of Hogwarts. Do any of these kids’ parents pull them out of the school when they start praying to Lilith and then Hecate? Do any of the boys have issues with moving from a male god to a female one? Where did all these kids come from if they didn’t have parents and families? Is this witch world just...the school? Why? It would have been interesting watching the witches struggle and scramble to regain their powers while also being hunted by this new, threatening group whose magic seems to be much older, much darker. But instead, they just pivot, and have a fucking picnic before the full moon. 

There’s nothing interesting about characters just constantly pivoting around obstacles without having any real emotional reaction, any real struggles. Obstacles like losing their powers, should be an actual obstacle. They should struggle, there should be emotional weight, and consequences. Instead, Sabrina continues to break rules to suit her agenda, put her friends and family and risk and everyone just...rolls with it. No one is angry at Sabrina for the loss of their powers? Her choice to not become Queen of hell is why they lost their powers right? No one has feelings about that? Sabrina isn’t ostracized? We never see the way these choices, or the overarching plot obstacles impact the characters emotionally. Instead, they’re doing this stuff:

Which is completely ridiculous to me. It all just...HAPPENS. Which is this entire series. Stuff happens, and the characters just, do stuff in reaction to it. Harvey, Theo and Roz are ostensibly human, living human lives. They end up getting pulled into Sabrina’s world, and no one has any strong feelings about that? Harvey’s brother is killed, Roz is turned to stone and Theo talks to his dead great aunt and none of them are haunted by any of that? No? They just decide to create a faux scooby club to fight demons?  Ok. And that cheerleading things is over as quickly as we see it. Stuff like this is insanely frustrating to watch because it makes the show a nonsensical slog to sit through. There’s nothing interesting or engaging to latch onto because they just hammer through it all and make up stupid solutions to get themselves out of the impossible stakes they threw the characters in in the first place. They introduce ideas and discard them just as quickly. An ex:angels show up, start killing people, Sabrina channels satan and kills them, and then that’s the last of those guys. Metatron (jfc even the name is stupid) shows up and is killed just as quickly.  Why bother introducing them then? Why bother do any of the things you’re currently doing in this show if you have no intention of seeing it through? 

Characters 

No one on this show gels, at all.  I don’t believe Theo/Roz/Harvey/Sabrina have been friends for ages. I don’t believe Sabrina and Nick are “end game” (why the hell do we keep saying this riverdale? It’s stupid and senseless). I don’t believe any of these relationships at all. Part of this is because the cast have no chemistry with each other:

they do not look like a friend group or couples at all, these are a bunch of people paired together.

But also because they weren’t consistent at all. 

Father Blackwood went from a witch/warlock purist, to a raging sexist, to a cult leader who killed his followers, to a raging maniac bent on hitler-esque destruction in 4 seasons...for nothing. It served no purpose. He didn’t even DO anything. He was nice to the Eldritch Terrors, and became immortal...for nothing. He killed the coven, for nothing. He killed his wife in childbirth, for nothing. Zelda stole the baby, for nothing. None of that amounted to anything worth while in the entire series. So what was the point?  Zelda marrying Faustus also made no sense and only happened to show JUST how sexist he was! But why? WHY? We don’t receive explanations for character behaviour, and when we do, it still makes no sense. 

Sabrina breaks all these rules and experiences ZERO consequences. At all times, and it makes her a terrible main character. Everyone else abides by the rules but she doesn’t and doesn’t have to pay for that? Why? She straddles both worlds instead of committing to one, and that was the closest we got to seeing consequences for her. Everyone rushes in to help Sabrina break rules instead of holding her accountable for feeling above them. Sabrina creates 2 versions of herself, and they sloppily tie in that all the realms are converging in on each other because of what she did. Except she and Sabrina Morningstar had been hanging out...ostensibly for days/weeks/months (who knows? Not this show!) before we saw any potential issues, and then we end up finding out that this is about the next eldritch terror, not about Sabrina existing as a double in 1 universe. People get upset for a second and then move on to help her. So why have rules in this world at all if it means nothing to break them? 

Nick goes through literal hell, and immediately cheats on Sabrina because of how a man made of clay looked at her. That’s laughable to me. It makes no narrative sense. Their relationship doesn’t even make sense.

Roz and Harvey spend 90% of their time almost fucking. It’s bizarre. Their getting together was random and every single scene with them alone in it is like a precursor to fucking and I don’t get why. This show does not grasp how to build up relationships. Also do these kids not have parents? Theo and Harvey stay having constant sleepovers with their respective partners, in their parents’ houses? Really? At seventeen? Lol k. 

I feel like, if CAOS were better thought out, it could have actually been interesting. But it was just a smorgasbord of stuff happening, and characters doing stuff, and none of that following in any real narrative way. Storytelling has structure for a reason, and a show with a good story structure usually yields an enjoyable watching experience. CAOS is a pretty strong example of how throwing that out and relying so heavily on aesthetics and still taking the show so seriously it’s not even fun terrible, gets you nowhere. Ultimately I’m glad it’s over.

#caos #caos netflix #the chilling adventures of sabrina

[venusandromedadjarin]

There Are Others

Ch. 14, A Glint of Beskar

18+, smut, spoilers?, 1.8k words

You’re both quiet as the Crest jolts through hyperspace, afraid to play the recording the droid had uploaded. You put the child in his nook hours ago, after playing with him in the hull for a while. You can’t remember what the next planet is that the ship is heading towards so you remain quiet, stoic even, next to the silent suit of Beskar.

Some time later, he reaches for you and you jolt awake, unaware you’d fallen asleep, “Are you okay?” The words tumble out of your mouth quickly, unable to be stopped. His cloak is draped over you, the cockpit cold as the stars streak by above the glass. You let him pull you up into his arms and he crushes you against his chest which is heaving underneath the breast plate. You try to pull away, to look up at his visor. “Mando what’s going on? Is it the child? Is it-“

“I listened to the message,” is all he says. You stare up at him, waiting for him to elaborate but he doesn’t; he just looks down at you.

After a few moments like this, you plead with him, “Please talk to me. Don’t shut me out.”

“I’m doing the opposite,” is all he says as he backs away and sits down, gesturing for you to do the same.

“What-“

He holds up his hand, silencing you, and you watch him as his shoulders fall, leaning back. His next words are whispered, barely intelligible through the modulator, “There are others.”

“Others…” Your mind reels: Other green babies? Other Mandalorians? Other people like Kuiil? Other women? Other what?

“Like me, y/n.” He sounds broken, scared… surprised. “I always knew there must be, but the ones I know are in hiding. They were in the sewers of Nevarro but the covert moved because of me.” He sighs, and you wait for him to go on, watching intently. “Kuiil said they are a cult. In his message, he said that-he said that of my people.”

“A cult? Thats ridicu-“

“It’s true,” the finality of his tone makes you blanch and he briefly reaches out to you as he sees your expression, but quickly drops his hand. His next words are spoken like a confession, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the helmet as he speaks, “When I was a child on Nevarro, my village was attacked and up until recently I thought I was the only person to survive. I hid in a cellar with a little girl, a friend… but I left her. I was lifted out of the cellar by a Mandalorian, the carnage continuing around me as he took me from her. I hid her, afraid of what would happen to her if they found her. I didn’t realize I was being saved, so I left her.” He looks up at you as you gasp slightly, connecting the dots, but he pushes forward with his story, the words coming faster now. “I was trained to fight, to kill. I’ve been doing it since that cellar and I thought it was the only thing left for me. The Tribe raised me to never show my face. That is the creed. The way. We follow the Way of the Mandalore. We’re warriors. But there are others.”

He finally allows you to speak, looking at you and you search for his eyes through the vizor, hoping to meet them, “That doesn’t sound like a cult to me.”

He cuts you off again, “The others might not be like me. I had heard rumors… rumors of Mandalorians who removed their helmets. Who lived normal lives. Kuiil gave me names. In his message, he said there is a group called the Death Watch. He said they could help me. Help us.” He looks down at his clasped hands, his elbows resting on his knees as he leans forward. “There’s a woman named Bo-Katan that Kuiil said could help us.”

The silence stretches out between you, both of you aware of what his confession means. The information sinks into your soul, firing synapses you thought had been ruined a long time ago and though there’s much more pressing questions you want to ask, you decide to stick to a simplistic one, afraid of scaring the man in front of you. “How do we find her?”

He shakes his head slightly, almost shyly, “Kuiil left coordinates of the last place he knew they were, but it’s a long shot. My people, we like to move.” He stand to his full hight suddenly, looming over you as you crane your neck upwards. “Come with me.”

“Of course I will,” your brow furrows, confused at his command. Where did he think you’d go; did he think you’d leave?

“No, come with me right now,” his voice is softer as he pulls you to your feet, for the second time that night, and crushes you to his chest. You breath out an agreement, your hands resting on the cold pauldrons on his shoulders. He leads you to the ladder before descending, watching you as you follow, knowing you can feel his gaze on your ass. “Can I?” He asks when you step down in front of him, and you nod. Without waiting another second he hauls you up into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you toward the bedroom, flinging the door open with one arm, his other supporting your weight. He sets you down at the foot of the bed, instructing you to undress slowly, his heavy gaze never leaving you from under the helmet. He stands extremely still as you drop your clothing to the floor, his breath heavy and uneven. Once you’re naked, you step towards him, increasingly aware that the last time he saw you naked in the light was when he dropped the towel from around your breasts. You flush as you reach towards him and start to undo the Beskar. He lets you, just watching as you take away his armor, figuratively and metaphorically. He reaches up to stroke your mouth with a gloved thumb before slowly sliding it between your lips and you groan at the intrusion before gently biting the leather and pulling. He slides his hand out before pulling the other glove off and reaching down to tease your clit. He stops the second you moan, removing his hand and reaching down to pull his shirt off. His tan skin glows under the soft light of the bedroom and you let your eyes wander to the trail that disappears into his pants. Without much thought, you slip your fingers into the waistband, gently pulling downwards as you sink to your knees in front of him, his cock springing up when it’s no longer constricted by the fabric. He hisses as you reach the floor, his pants around his calves and he smoothly kicks his boots off, the pants following. Before you can lean forward to take him in your mouth, he’s pulling you to your feet and pushing you towards the bed, his cock poking against your stomach.

“Close your eyes.” You do as he says, letting him guide you backwards onto the bed and scooting upwards so your head is on the pillows. You hear the familiar hiss of the helmet being removed, and then his mouth as he kisses the top of your foot, trailing up your leg and over your hip. He nibbles at your stomach, whispering sweet nothings against your skin as you shiver beneath his breath. You hum when his fingertips pause near your ribs, ghosting over your birthmark. He sucks at your nipple, his hand cupping your other breast as you arch into his touch. When he reaches your pulse point and sucks hard enough to leave a bruise on your neck, you gasp, feeling the warmth pool between your legs.

“I thought I lost you,” he whispers against your neck and in that moment, you swear to the Maker that you feel the stars collide as every single cell in your body sparks to life.

“You’re mine,” he moves in between your legs, and you open for him, welcoming him into you, begging to be one. “You’re still my best friend. You’ve always been with me, in my heart, y/n.”

You gasp as he moves inside you, slowly at first but then steadily, his hands entwining with yours above your head. He kisses you, hard and passionately. You arch into him, wanting to be closer to him and he wraps an arm around your middle, his hand pulling the small of your back upwards, your hips moving together.

“When I found out you were in that encampment, when I found the kid, I knew I couldn’t leave you again,” your gasps mingle with his as he continues to confess to you, his pace never faltering. “I’d come back for you over and over. I’m sorry it took so long.”

You have to force yourself to keep your eyes closed, wanting so badly to look into the brown eyes staring down at you with heavy lids. Between gasps you manage to get a few words out, “I’m here now.”

He groans at your admission, sucking another mark onto your neck and making you tremble. He kisses you again, the movements frenzied and bruising, but loving all the same. His movements become erratic, both of you close to orgasming but trying to drag out the pleasure of this moment. When he lets go of your hand, his arm still holding you against him, you rake your nails over his shoulders and back, making him moan at the mixture of pain and pleasure. His other hand tangles into your hair, tugging gently. You gasp against his shoulder as he hits the pleasure point inside of you, and he continues to move against it, feeling you come undone beneath him. Goosebumps raise on your skin at the sensation and your legs tremble as you wrap them around his waist, hooking your ankles together. You weave your fingers into his hair, pulling him down to you, kissing him hungrily, dipping your tongue into his mouth. Your moans mix with his as you begin to clench around him, both of you on the edge.

“Y/n,” he breaths out against your lips and it pushes you into the searing light of the orgasm. Your whole body burns white hot as you cry out for him, trembling in his arms, and seconds later you feel him pump inside of you, filling you as he groans against your mouth, kissing you heavily. He collapses on top of you momentarily before rolling over and pulling you on top of him, his cock still inside you. You lay against his chest, both of you breathing heavy and shaking. He’s quiet for a few moments before whispering, “Say it.”

You adjust your head, making sure you’re safely in the curve of his neck before opening your eyes, the flutter of your lashes against his pulse point making him shiver. He stiffens slightly, but you reassure him by laying your palm against his cheek, making sure to stay in a position that you can’t see his face.

“I’ve missed you, Din.”

#the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #reader x din Djarin #din djarin reader insert #din djarin smut