#I know how to resolve that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkskinned · 1 year

Text

oh you know it's all latestage capitalism but the thing is. how are you supposed to be a person inside of this. a person trying to be a better version of yourself.

oh, you started working young, which was kind of hard, but it's just the way stuff works sometimes. and it was 2008 and your family couldn't afford heat. but it's fine, you grow a spine and get used to the professional world and besides it was the suburbs we're talking about here, like, your life could have been actually hard, so what if your father lost his job and you can't afford to move or turn the lights back on. and once you start making money, it's good. you keep doing that. because now they're relying on you. so you have to do that.

oh you were in thousands of dollars of debt at 17 years old so that you could go to school, because you have to go to school if you want to get a "real" job. you even did it "right", you worked parttime and attended community college before you transferred to a public school. you were under so many merit scholarships.

which is fine. you pick yourself up and you say like, okay. i graduated college. i'm holding down a job. i'm doing the Adult Thing, which looks and acts like this, according to all the books i've read. you start with the shitty job and then you climb that corporate ladder.

but the shitty job doesn't cover rent and you stretch yourself too-thin so you get sick. good luck with that. the shitty job no longer pays for your meals. everyone asks why you don't just move, but there's nowhere to move to. and with what money are you going to be moving? and then the loans come back, because they were never going to forgive them, because you were 17 and trying to do the right thing, which was stupid. people are now saying you shouldn't have even gone to school.

which is fine. but because you have no other option, so you do the shitty job, and you apply every day for like 5 new ones, and despite the fact everyone says "there's no one who wants to work!" it's actually just that nobody is fucking hiring so you can either work for 13 dollars an hour in the shitty place you know (where at least you have a passingly friendly relationship with the manager) or you can start from scratch again with a different 13 dollars an hour without knowing how much abuse from the new job you'll be taking.

and if you quit you lose your insurance. if you quit you lose your housing. if you quit, you'll be another burnout kid. the lazy ones. these assholes, look at them!

and you come home to a family dinner and you hear from your father the same old thing. how he worked hard at his job and yes it sucked for a while but he was able to provide for the family and then the house and the dog and the rest of barbie's dream vacation. how the insurance did cover some of it. how you just really need to start speaking up more in manager conversations so they know you're a go-getter. you want to tell him - did you know we're actually doing more now hourly than any previous generation? - but you can't remember where you heard that statistic, and you're far too tired for the fucking argument. and then he starts in on his usual bit. where's the house? where's your kids? where's your ambition.

the same job the same money the same hours doesn't do it anymore. the same nose-to-the-grindstone now just shreds your face off. there's no such thing as upwards mobility, not really. and as far as you're aware, the money certainly is not trickling. you do the soulless stupid shit you signed up for because you fucking have to or else you literally risk your life (food, the apartment, the insurance), but it's not getting you anything. you download the stupid "save more" app and you budget and you do every right thing and then the price of eggs is 7 dollars and you say - oh great! another thing i have to fucking worry about now!

and you go to your stupid job and everyone in your father's generation just tells you to be better about being an adult. they have their homes and their savings account and their bailout and they say. well have you tried not drinking starbucks. well your generation just spends too much on clothing. well you might just be too addicted to travelling. and you - because you need the job - you bite your tongue and don't say i am being held prisoner and you're suggesting i stop pacing my cell if i don't like the scenery and you don't say what the fuck do you think i've been doing with my money and you don't say i haven't spent a cent on something nice in literally forever much less coffee you arrogant asshole. you open and close your bank app and check your loans and check your credit score and check fucking zillow and ziprecruiter and apartments.com just one time more. and still they give you that demeaning little grin and say - see, what you need is -

what you need is for your meds to stop being so fucking expensive. what you need is for the housing bubble to explode into dust. what you need is for billionaires to choke on their wealth. what you need is actual help. what you will get is more economic advice from people who are older-and-wiser.

and above you, almost in a glimmer, you can see the wedged smile of your debt getting toothier, wider.

#i hate when people try to tell me i didn't do it right #what should i have done better #i did it ALL the right way #(not that there is a right way)#it's just that others feel comfortable believing that THEY did it the right way and that's how they made money #whereas i must have just committed a sin somewhere in there! i MUST be doing it wrong!!!#and i'm not a victim!!! im simply experiencing consequences!#and im like. where . where. wherewherewherewhere #i graduated top of my class. i was almost the student speaker.#i have always excelled at work and i work hard #i have been working since i was 13 #WHERE !!!!! IS MY FUCKING !!!! MONEY!!!!!!#ps please do not make the assumption i am ablebodied or neurotypical.#i am neither of these things.#it DOES get worse if u are either of those things. so fuckin much #but @ the one anon who was like ''u could be X that would be worse u don't know how lucky u are''#.... don't i?#do i need to be luckier than someone else #or is it possible we are BOTH victims?#and that we need to work TOGETHER to resolve it #not just wave it off since it COULD be harder for someone else... it can be true we BOTH deserve better

5K notes · View notes

fifthnailinstevesbat · 22 days

Text

after the events of season 4, steve just wanting SO BADLY to be friends with eddie. just LOVING the idea of them getting closer and having eddie as a friend because hell yeah! a close male friendship with someone that is actually my age, and who i don’t have a weird history with involving bruised eyes and love triangles? count me IN! and eddie is FUN, he is actually hilarious! the way they share the same glances of understanding when dustin is being an absolute shit head, rambling on and on about some obscure topic, expecting everyone to always be on the exact same page as him. of course. and, although steve suspects that eddie actually probably is keeping up with everything dustin says, much better than he ever could, he knows that above it all eddie can appreciate the antics for what they are, and roll his eyes with steve at dustin, i concur, you dustin henderson, are a total butthead.

steve just about junps RIGHT IN to being friends with eddie. hey man, what’cha up to tonight? wanna watch a movie? get drunk, smoke a bit? hey eddie, how have you been, man? he starts calling eddie up on the phone regularly just to check in, shoot the shit, he loves it! he loves having this new friendship with eddie munson and he loves how much the other boy has surprised him with how much he actually enjoys being around him. he’s not a freak, really, well ok maybe he is a little bit, but only in the best ways. he’s kind, thoughtful, and is always looking out for the people he cares about, which is something steve can really respect in a dude. but he’s also so funny? steve never could’ve anticipated just how much eddie has managed to make him genuinely LAUGH over their short amount of time spent together. and he’s really, out there? with the way he presents himself, the way he takes up space with these big THEATRICAL movements, leaving no room for regret or shame or god forbid embarrassment. steve isn’t even sure munson is capable of feeling it at all.

eddie munson is a good dude, and steve could use a bit more of that kind of person around him. he loves all of his friends, the weird little bonded family he’s found himself apart of, and they are all good people, but it never hurts to have afew more added in here and there. it never hurts to know there are more good people out there to find.

so steve is all over eddie, it seems.

at least, from where eddie is standing. nobody else seems as phased as eddie does at this sudden change in steve’s demeanour, in his interest in what eddie munson spends his time doing these days. it seems like, to everyone else, to steve, it’s just a natural progression in their relationship, after being sort of role model figures to the same group of kids, both being the two single dudes, who fought the same monsters together last spring, it seems nobody questions too much that they’d start casually hanging around eachother more. especially since eddie has found himself to fit into his own special spot as one of the group now after it all, after he unwillingly became tangled in this whole upsidedown-superpowers-supernatural-monsters and demons debacle, and tangled quite dramatically at that, the rest of the group that’s been with this since the beginning seemed to find no trouble in taking him in and seeing him as “one of them” now.

so, steve asking eddie to smoke, to watch movies, to go for a drive with no real end destination, it’s not really something that earns them too many double takes. dustin makes a comment or two in the beginning, because steve since when did you like hanging out with eddie? you guys are like so opposite, you don’t like any of the same stuff he does? and steve barely gives a shrug and a dismissive yeah yeah whatever man in response, with a signature eye roll, and dustin had said it seemingly also not too seriously, poking fun at steve wherever he can, not really meaning anything by it, as he fidgets around and rambles in the backseat of steve’s car, eddie riding up front. after that, though, he’s dropped it. it’s never brought up again. part of eddie thinks, too, that dustin would actually be enjoying that his two older friends are becoming friends themselves.

robin seems to be the only other person to look a bit harder at their situation, lingering stares at their interactions, all squinted eyes and eyebrows raised, though from her all this seems to be almost always and only ever directed at steve. eddie’s not sure what to make of that. isn’t he the weird one? i mean, he’s the one that stands out, right? he’s the odd denominator that makes their friendship strange. why would steve harrington want to hang out with Him? HIM? but robin doesn’t spend her time studying eddie to try and search for what about him could possibly have piqued the interest of cherished steven harrington, no, shes always looking at steve. like she’s seeing him differently, almost. eddie doesn’t even think that steve notices it, either, because he doesn’t seem to be questioning or doubting anything odd or strange or out of the ordinary with their newfound time spent together. and maybe, maybe robin is seeing him differently. eddie knows he definitely has been. seeing him more, intensely. deeply. human. seeing the person that steve is, as just steve, not this idealised version of a boy that eddies starting to question ever really even existed at all, or if everyone around him just needed to believe that he did, and who was steve if not happy to comply to the wants of the people around him for who he should be?

eddie likes having steve as his friend, too. don’t get it twisted. he loves how unexpectedly expressive steve is about everything, even really small things. steve LOVES to raise his voice, rest a hand on his popped hip, scolding the kids for something stupid with no real heat or malice behind it. and steve is, like, kinda bitchy too. eddie knew he had the capacity to be a real asshole when he wanted to be, that’s all he knew steve for back in the day, when he was back in high school, hanging around tommy h and the basketball boys, the jocks. eddie would spend his days hearing only whispers and gossip in the hallways of the parties at king steve’s house and the fights king steve had started and won on the court or out in the fields, only ever getting as close as a shove into a locker with the guy at the time, but eddie knew how it could go. he knew all about what steve had done to jonathan, what he’d said to him, the words he’d used. eddie knew it all. he’d seen enough, and been through enough himself, to know how these guys acted in response to guys like him, like jonathan, people who were lower on the social food chain. so, eddie knew about steve’s “mean streak”, if you will, but this kind of snarky bitchiness was something new to him. harrington was almost, sassy, when he wanted to be. it was less so cruel and more just, just sass. if he’s being completely honest it kind of blew eddie away, at first. he thought steve was one of those dull headed jocks who thought with their fists more than their actual brains, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. steve’s insults were well thought out, they were FUNNY, he was smart with his words. and silly. oh my god steve harrington could be so fucking silly, real honest to god goofball when the moment called for it, when he felt comfortable enough. eddie had caught on multiple occasions steve mimicking lightsabers to play fight with dustin, or the stupid fucking shit he would do or say just to make robin laugh, singing along to a song playing on the radio with a funny voice.

it was all a little, intoxicating, to watch. eddie didn’t know what gave him the right to be in on this now, to get to see this side of steve and better yet to be at the other end of some of his best qualities. it was fun, all the time they spent together, but there was always something else tugging inside eddie everytime they spent close time together, too. something, he knew steve wasn’t aware of. something he knew steve wasn’t equipped to deal with. something he knew, was him. was him, making things something more than they should be, because, nobody seemed to be questioning that they could become friends, so why ruin that? why disrupt it?

- robin and steve

“Steve.”

“-but then like, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to watch it I just thought, hey, y’know, let’s try something different for a change, but then he- oh my god he honest to god TACKLED ME Robin — I mean, it was so fucking funny and it happened so quick — and all over a fucking Tom Cruise movie-“

“STEVE.” Robin lightly slammed a hand onto the counter. She had been standing behind it for no short of 20 minutes, watching Steve as he paced around, supposed to be stacking tapes onto shelves, but ended up spending the whole time going on and on, and ON, about how movie night went with Eddie last night. She thought she was bad…

Steve jumped, almost running into a shelf and knocking down his hard work, and seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had found himself in after starting to tell Robin a story about something funny Eddie had done last night.

“Shit, sorry. Sorry, what were you saying? Were you- were you saying something?”

To this, Robin just rolls her eyes and let’s out a laugh, “You, sir, are goddamn hopeless.”

“Sorry. How long was I talking for?” Steve wandered his way over to lean his arms onto the counter from the opposite side.

“Oh, I dunno Steve, just about half an HOUR?”

“That is an over exaggeration Robin, it’s only been like-“

“Honestly, man, i’m concerned for you. You are like next level OBSESSED with Eddie. Eddie Munson. You do realise this right??? You are obsessed with him, Steve.”

To this Steve sputters, lazily waving his hands back and forth.

“No, Robin, what the hell are you talking about? I am not OBSESSED. No need to be jealous, alright, Stevie-Boy here can have more than one friend. Your spot in my heart isn’t any less special now that it’s beginning to be shared by another.” He bats his eyelashes up at her, holding both hands over his chest as if to cradle his heart.

“Oh my GOD! You even SOUND LIKE HIM!”, she playfully slaps his shoulder. “Steve. You are obsessed.”

“I am not obsessed! He’s just a really great guy, alright-“

“Blah blah, yep whatever you say, lover boy.” Robin quips, plopping down onto the chair chair infront of their staff computer, turning herself to face it.

“Wha- what? Lover boy? What the hell Robin, that is not- that doesn’t even make any sense!”

She is just smiling at him now, enjoying seeing him spiral like this. Steve let’s out a sigh as he puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head, looking at her right back.

He opens and closes his mouth afew times, like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say next. Or like he has no idea what to say next, and his brain is not moving fast enough to formulate the next sentence his mouth knows he wants to say. He wasn’t obsessed. That’s not- that’s like- no. No he was not, Robin was just playing around with him, she knew how to get on his nerves. Get him all wound up over little things just to see him react like this.

After a minute or two, Robin realises Steve was not going to reply anytime soon, so she turns fully back toward him. Saving him from his spiral.

“So, what are you’re plans for tonight Steve-O?”

He lets out a chuckle and walks around the counter till he’s behind it with Robin, leaning his back against it so he can stand across from her and face her.

“Well, not really sure. Parents aren’t home, no early shift tomorrow, might drink afew beers, listen to some music, —“

“See what Eddie’s doin?” Robin finishes for him, quirking her eyebrows up and down as she does it.

“Oh shut up!” Steve just laughs and softly throws a tape from the counter at her chest. “As a matter of fact, yeah I will see what he’s up to. Because we are friends now, Robin. Is that a problem? Actually I was also gonna ask you what you were up to after work, too, but you know what after this I’m having second thoughts, I mean, the way you’ve been treating me lately-“

“Oh my god, you are the worst. Yes, I’m free, of course I’ll hang out with you dingus. You and your tweedle dee.”

Steve laughs at this, then tilts his head.

“Wait, does that make me dumb? Tweedle dumb?! That’s how you see me?”

“Yeah it is actually, got a problem?”

“Oh wow, she’s feisty today. Can’t believe you think I’m dumb, Rob’s. When you come knockin’ tonight, do not expect a warm greeting at my front door.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take my chances.”

- later. steve’s house. to be continued?

#just been having steddie post season 4 thoughts #been missing the era of the fandom just sort of starting during that time between vol 1 and 2 #how every fic had their own little way of resolving the upside down/vecna problem just written into afew small paragraphs #really just getting to know these characters as a pairing #most importantly before seeing them as a couple #seeing them as friends #how they would genuinely interact and get along #what their dynamics would look like #steddie early days truly have my whole entire heart #coming onto tumblr the weeks following vol1 of s4 was magical #anywho yeah non vol2 compliant steddie for you #more so just #eddie didn’t die steddie for you #they become friends bc truly i actually believe that had he lived they would have #it just makes sense #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #robin buckley #dustin henderson #also lmk if i should keep adding to this…might abyways bc i’m enjoying this #steddie fic #steddie fic idea #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfiction

610 notes · View notes

ruporas · 11 months

Photo

cheers to the future of humanity (and the future of us)

[ID: Digital illustration in color of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun. The illustration takes place during the ship/home arc, specifically chapter 21. At the center, Vash is grabbing Wolfwood by the collar and pulls him into a kiss in the middle of a celebration. The pair is colored in vibrant warm hues while their surroundings are colored in cooler colors like green and teals. Luida, Brad, Meryl, and Milly are shown amongst the crowd, occupied in the celebrations as Vash and Wolfwood share a moment by themselves at the center. END ID]

#vashwood #trigun #trigun maximum #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #hospital yuri (explodeds) like any average vw enjoyer i will never get over that arc #specifically the scene where they heard the news of earth ships coming and did that little handshake they somehow conjured or #Had already. and then the entire ship had a party... meryl and milly started drinking immediately from joy and dragged vash and ww to get #wasted too and overall celebrate together. the chapter moves quickly just like how the hope was quickly withered out and died just hours #later when knives destroyed it. BUT IM JUST THINKING ABOUT IN THE MOMENT OF IT ALL bc in the same chapter #ww asks for a chance for tomorrow and then gets news of earth ships coming. in this same arc vash is thinking of all the things he needs to #resolve so his home doesn't get attacked so the people he love doesn't have to die and the humans he wants to protect gets to live.#i feel like deep down they both semi-recognize that it can't be this easy and regardless of earth ships coming- there's still a wait for #them to arrive and they have to hold out. and regardless ww still has a mission to follow through and vash knows knives would find out #but in that mood of celebration the entire ship brought in - they can at least let themselves relax for a moment and indulge #how they basically engaged with no violence for the few days they were on that ship coaxing them into domesticity... i feel like their #thoughts would wander to somewhere soft and all #allowing them to push aside the tiptoeing and tenseness and be sweet for a night #ruporas art

3K notes · View notes

bonefall · 5 months

Note

⭕️Hey Bones! Is it ok if you explain and/or elaborate how Crowfeather is abusive to Breezepelt if please?⭕️

I do KNOW that crowfeather is indeed, abusive to Breezepelt, due to the fact that he emotionally and/or physically neglected him - with child neglect being known to BE a form of child abuse - and I also heard that he slashed and/or hit him within one of the books, which I believe is in the book Outcast, in chapter 16.

But I also wish people would talk and be informed about it more within the fandom, because in the parts of the fandom I’ve known portrayed Crowfeather’s neglect on Breezepelt as negative and bad, but not in a way that made me think and/or feel: “Wow, that’s pretty bad. That’s…actually abusive.” I suppose? So I hope more people will talk about it more in that type of way.

Also, please be aware that I have NOT read PoT, OoTS, etc. or barely any warrior cats books, since the majority of the information I got from the series is from the wiki and the fandom, so that probably explains why I didn’t know this part of Crowfeather’s character is as bad as it actually is until now. Also, feel free to talk about Crowfeather’s abuse on Breezepelt I haven’t mentioned and/or don’t know right now as well if you want.

I’m SO sorry that if this ask is unintentionally quite long, and feel free to make sure to take all the time you need to answer it. Thank you!

OH LET'S GOOOO

Breezepelt is both physically and emotionally abused by Crowfeather. I'm not talking about only child neglect; he is screamed at, belittled, and even once hit on-screen.

The fact that Crowfeather both neglected and abused him is very important to the canonical story of Breezepaw. There's actually a lot more to this character than people remember! Even from his first appearances he displays good qualities, a strained relationship with his father and adult clanmates, and is clearly shown to be troubled before we understand why.

As many problems as I have with the direction of Breezepelt's arc (especially Crowfeather's Trial), his setup is legitimately a praiseworthy bit of writing from Po3 which carries over into OotS. To say that Breezepelt was not abused is to completely miss two arcs worth of books SCREAMING it.

BIG POST. Glossary;

INTRO TO BREEZEPELT: The Sight and Dark River

ABUSE: Outcast, Social Alienation, the Tribe Journey.

DARK FOREST: How these factors push him towards radicalization.

For "brevity," I'm not getting into anything post-OotS. I'm just showing that Breezepelt was abused, the narrative wants you to know that he was abused, and that his status as a victim of child abuse is CENTRAL to understanding why he is training in the Dark Forest.

INTRO TO BREEZEPELT: The Sight and Dark River

Our very first introduction to Breeze is when Jaypaw walks off a cliff in the first book of Po3 and is rescued by a WindClan patrol. He's making snarky remarks, and Whitetail and Crowfeather are not happy about it. Whitetail snaps for Crow to teach his son some manners, and Crow growls for Breezepaw to be quiet.

But our proper introduction to him is at his announcement gathering, when Heatherpaw playfully introduces him as a friend,

From the offset something's not entirely right here between Breezepaw and his father. He's cut off by Heatherpaw here, but he's touchy whenever his father is involved, and we're not entirely sure why.

Throughout Book 1, he's just rude, with a notable xenophobic streak. He's a bit of a mean rival character for Lionpaw, as they're both interested in the affections of Heatherpaw and make bids to get her attention, but nothing particularly violent yet.

He participates in the beloved Kitty Olympics and gets buried in liquid dirt with Lionpaw, basically a rite of passage for any arc.

(And Nightcloud has a cute moment where she watches over them until they fall asleep)

As the books progress, the relationship between Crow and Breeze visibly deteriorates. They start from being simply tense with each other in The Sight, to the open shouting and hitting we see in Outcast.

In the very first chapter of Dark River, we learn where his behavioral issues are really coming from;

Crowfeather.

Breezepelt is getting xenophobia from his father. Occasionally he says something bigoted and his dad will agree and chime in, and those are the only positive moments they have together.

(Note: In contrast, Nightcloud explicitly pushes back against xenophobia, chiding Breezepelt for his rudeness to Lionpaw in back in The Sight, Chapter 21. The Sight is the book where a lot of "evidence" that the Evil Overbearing Woman is actually responsible for the rift between father and son but. No. She's not. Though she can be overprotective; Crow and Breeze have a bad relationship when she's not even around in Breeze's first appearance and even his Crowfeather's Trial Epiphany refutes it. Anyway this post isn't about Nightcloud.)

So he starts acting on his bigotry, accusing cats in other Clans of stealing, running really close to the border. What's interesting though, is that this is not entirely his doing. The first time we get physical trouble from Breezepaw, DUSTPELT aggressed it. Breezepaw and Harepaw were just chasing a squirrel and hadn't yet gone over the border at all.

We learn that WindClan is teaching its apprentices how to hunt in woodland, and tensions between the two Clans is starting to escalate as ThunderClan isn't entirely trusting of their intentions.

The second time, fighting breaks out over him and Harepaw actually crossing the border and catching a squirrel. WindClan is adamant that because it came from their land, it's their squirrel. So it's as if Breezepaw is modelling the aggression around him, learning how to behave from the older warriors and his father.

When he joins Heatherpaw and The Three to go find Gorsetail's kits in the tunnels, he's grouchy towards the ThunderClan cats, but very gentle with the kittens. Notably so. When Thistlekit is dangerously cold, he cuddles up next to her, and even assures Swallowkit when she's scared,

Through this entire excursion, he's the one in the comforting roles for the kittens. Breezepaw is the one who is taking time to tell the kits they'll be okay, that he'll protect them, and physically supporting them when they're weak, even when he's terrified.

And it's always contrasted to Heatherpaw who's way more 'disciplined,' as a side note. It's a detail I'm just fond of.

All this to point out,

Breezepelt displays his best qualities when he's away from the older warriors of WindClan, and he's at his worst whenever he's near Crowfeather. Even while he's essentially just a bully character for The Three to deal with. He's gruff but cooperative when it's just him and Heatherpaw interacting with The Three, but mean when there is an adult to please.

We're getting to the on-screen abuse now, but Po3 actually sets up Breezepaw's troubles and dynamics well before it's finally confirmed that he is a victim of child abuse.

ABUSE: Outcast, the Tribe Journey.

In Outcast, Breezepaw's problems have escalated into open aggression towards cats of other Clans, and is now a legitimate concern for his own safety. Yet, he's spoken over by older warriors, and reprimanded at nearly every opportunity, right in front of the warrior of another Clan.

Squilf just asked the poor kid how his training was going, and then Whitetail JUMPS to talk over him so she can complain, RIGHT in front of his face.

They can't even wait until they're alone to grumble something rude about Breezepaw, who is still just a teenager here;

They taught him already that a bit of prey that runs off their own territory still belongs to WindClan, encourage him to blow past borders in pursuit, and started a battle with ThunderClan over this. And then they're pissed off at him for being aggressive, thinking it's deserved to scold him in public.

When Onestar announces that he wants Breezepaw to go on the Tribe Journey, he's devastated by it...

Because he thinks WindClan doesn't like him, and he's right. He's gossiped about, torn into in front of a ThunderClan warrior, and even his own dad doesn't want to be around him. It's clear that Breezepaw's impulsive "codebreaking" behaviors are a desire to prove himself, and once you realize that, the way that he's being alienated is heartbreaking.

But Wait!! Hold on a minute! Where did he get a "patrol of apprentices" from to confront the dogs with, exactly?

Simple. Breezepaw CAN make friends! He actually values them a lot! So much that it's the first thing Crowfeather snaps at him over, out of frustration that his son is also being forced on this journey with him. It's an angry response to his child having emotional and physical needs, resentment that will continue all journey long.

Note that it's plural, friends. Breezepelt has multiple friends, at least one who is not Heatherpaw, and she promises to say goodbye to them.

Up next, they state over and over, Crowfeather and Breezepaw do not like each other. Crowfeather resents being around him and dealing with his rudeness, embarrassed and angry, and Breezepaw is absolutely miserable being sent on a journey to the mountains with a man who hates his guts.

The whole while, Crowfeather is brooding longingly about Feathertail, already thinking about her as soon as he kitty-kisses Nightcloud goodbye, his eyes looking somewhere distant. He makes a jab about loyalty when Breezepaw doesn't understand why they're helping the Tribe.

Breezepaw gets smacked after he's "shoved" at Purdy and acts rude to him, while the other three manage to be polite (while still having internal dialogue about how stinky he is).

Without so much as a, "cut that out," Crowfeather raises his paw and hits him. Breeze is quiet after that.

I don't give a shit how rude your teenager is being. Do not hit kids. Being throttled on the head is not okay.

In spite of the Three not liking Breezepaw, or even Crowfeather, they're constantly noting that their arguments are not normal, and that Crow is a cold, unsupportive father who digs into his kid constantly, and the only time he ever DOES "discipline" his child it's through immediately smacking him.

At one point, the apprentices get hungry, and decide to foolishly hunt in a barn that they know has dogs in it against Purdy's warnings. Once again, JUST like the first two books, Breezepaw is more friendly when Crowfeather is not around.

EVERY time he is alone with cats his own age, he's grumpy but cooperative. Even enthusiastic at times! The minute Crowfeather is in the picture, he's nasty.

Naturally, the dogs show up, but Purdy rescues them. Though Brambleclaw also chews his kids out (and i have strong opinions about bramble's parenting style for another time), Hollypaw is taken aback by the contrast of what a scolding from Brambleclaw looks like vs how Crowfeather reacts.

The narrative is desperately trying to tell you that the way Crowfeather treats his son is not normal.

And then Crowfeather is pissed off that Breezepaw is exhausted from running for his life from hungry dogs,

And he's constantly losing his shit whenever Breezepaw says something as innocuous as "dad im hungry"

Then, Breezepaw is made to watch his dad pine over the grave of a woman who died long before Crowfeather was even considering his mother for a mate. What he feels is jealousy, because he knows his own father doesn't love him anywhere near as much as he loves the memory of Feathertail.

This really goes on and on and on. The ENTIRE trip is like this, with Crowfeather treating Breezepelt poorly, giving him a smack before even verbally warning him, pushing him past his limits and blowing up on him when he asks simple questions about eating or resting.

It all comes to a head in this one exchange, towards the end. Hollypaw ends up snapping at Breezepaw for his rudeness, before having an epiphany.

It's explicit. Crowfeather's emotional abuse, his "scorn" for Breezepelt, is what is driving a wedge between him and all of his older Clanmates. Between EVERYONE in Breezepelt's life who wasn't already his friend. This awful treatment is only making him worse and worse.

Realizing this, she has more sympathy for him, but it's too late. He continues to be rude to her because he feels insulted, and her patience completely runs out. She's just a kid. They're both just kids. She's not responsible for fixing him when he's pushing everyone away at this point.

That's the end of Breezepelt in Outcast. It can't be helped anymore. Any spark of friendship they had together in the barn, or in the tunnels, is gone.

As the series progresses, Crowfeather continues to refuse any personal responsibility for the mistreatment of his son, even pinning all of Breezepelt's behavioral problems on Nightcloud. He is a cold, selfish father who only ever thinks about his own pain and reputation.

DARK FOREST: How these factors push him towards radicalization.

Everyone talks about the Attack on Poppyfrost, which happens in the first book of OotS, in oversimplified terms. YES he is going after a nun and a pregnant woman. I've never said that's not Bad.

But no one talks about "WHY", and that reason is NOT just that he desires power like so many other WC villains. Breezepelt makes his motivation very clear on the page.

Escalating to violence was about making Jayfeather feel the way that he does.

When Breezepelt says that he wants Jay to be surrounded by "lies, hatred, and things that should never have happened," he's talking about the way HE grew up, knowing his father never wanted him, and that his Clan HATES him as a result. Killing Poppyfrost is about trying to frame Jayfeather for her murder, so ThunderClan won't trust him anymore.

When Jayfeather points out the simple truth that what Breezepelt is saying doesn't make any goddamn sense, his hatred "falters." He's blaming his half-clan half-brother for his own treatment because of the reveal, but totally failed to consider that JAYFEATHER'S ALREADY GOING THROUGH IT... so his response is just this pitiful, "s-shut up, man."

Then the ghost of Brokenstar and Breezepelt bounce him back and forth between them like a beach ball for a bit until Honeyfern's spirit shows up.

Breezepelt's childhood abuse and social alienation was a hook that the Dark Forest latched onto, to reel him in. His anger at his half-brother is so obviously misplaced that its absurdity was something Jayfeather pointed out.

We soon learn that it's the Dark Forest who's planting that ridiculous idea in his head;

The narration is SCREAMING, "The Dark Forest is validating the anger he feels towards his father, and redirecting it towards The Three." He's described as 'kitlike,' Tigerstar's eyes are compared to a hypnotizing snake.

This prose could not make it more obvious if it drove to your house, beat you with it, and then spoon fed you the point while you were hospitalized.

At the end of this scene, Tigerstar sends Hawkfrost to recruit Ivypaw. This scene where Breezepelt is being lovebombed, and the command to start grooming Ivypaw, ARE LINKED. That was a choice.

A VERY GOOD choice! Again, as many issues as I have with OotS, its handling of indoctrination is unironically fantastic, and it owes a good amount of that to the outstanding setup of Breezepelt that was done back in Po3. And that setup doesn't work if Crowfeather was merely distant.

Breezepelt was abused by his father, both verbally and physically. It drove him to be more aggressive to prove himself, modeling the battle culture around him. The adults of WindClan judged him based off Crowfeather's responses, shunning and belittling the 'problem' teenager, which eventually drove Breezepelt to the only group that he felt "understood" him.

In a book series that is RIFE with abuse apologia, this is one of the few times that there's any behavioral consequences for abuse and the narrative holds the perpetrator accountable for it.

But people hear Crowfeather's deflective excuse in The Last Hope where he says he never hated him, blames Nightcloud for everything, and just lick it up uncritically.

Gee whiz, I wonder why the guy who never blames himself for any of his problems would suddenly say it was his ex-wife's fault. Real headscratcher!

(Crowfeather's Trial then goes onto, for all my own problems with it, also hold Crow accountable as the reason why Breezepelt turned out like he did. But that's a topic for another day.)

#This is headcanon territory here. But one day I realized I can read Breezy-P with BPD and he became a blorbo.#Never been able to unsee it and it massively endears him to me... Breeze Pelt Disorder...#I actually REALLY hate how his arc was resolved and strongly feel that he should have progressed into a bigger problem #But I equally strongly feel that being redeemed is the ideal ending for him #so if it was between him being pure evil/redemption death or the awful halting we got at the end of oots....#I'd pick the halting over him being pure evil or a redemption death.#I think BB made me REALLY fall in love with him. He's my sweet cheese. My good time boy.#Bones when he sees an angry black cat: ''i can fix you. first i must break you. but then i can fix you''#Like. what i dislike about where he went is that even if your anger issues came from abuse. you STILL are responsible for your actions #but in the end getting that Shitty Dad Approval fixes him. Not his own growth or self-reflection.#it feels like BREEZE gets his agency stripped away for HIS ABUSIVE DAD'S character arc #It retcons in a reason why Breezepelt is not still a problem and then he faded into the background.#while Crowfeather continues to get supporting roles and every now and then Breeze now looks at him fondly #BLECH.#Crowfeather #Breezepelt #Abuse #Child Abuse #Warrior Cats Analysis #And now you know anon!!

549 notes · View notes

monocaelia · 9 months

Text

atlas.

- he could only hold the world for so long, it was about time his body caved in ; aka, the two times you're reminded of his humanity. feat. gojo satoru & gn!reader genre : hurt/comfort , happy ending w.c. : 1.8k

warnings: spoilers for jjk s2 ep5 note : i hate goe joe satoru.

gojo satoru.

you didn't even need to see him to know who he is; he is the revered member of the gojo clan blessed enough to be born with both the six eyes and the infinity cursed technique and is a one in a lifetime miracle.

from the beginning of his life, gojo had been the strongest sorcerer in existence. with both blessed techniques at his will, he was near unstoppable and was worthy of shouldering the problems of jujustu society from a young age, as decided by the gojo clan.

and, for someone as blessed and impenetrable as he is, gojo had never felt the emotional strife of losing someone dear to him.

there are two times that you recall ever witnessing gojo satoru lose his composure, where you have seen the blessed one who holds the power of the gods in the palm of his hands and is always one step ahead of everyone else fall to his knees as the weight of the world finally takes its toll on his poor soul.

the first time was when getou suguru had betrayed jujutsu tech. you weren't sure of the details; you were in the middle of a mission and had returned to the news of your classmate and friend becoming a wanted criminal.

honestly, hearing it firsthand did not feel real to you. getou suguru was someone you had always admired. he was someone who not only had a powerful cursed technique, but was also a skilled fighter and knew how to use his technique to the fullest despite coming from a normal family rather than one of the prestigious families that were well-known in jujustu society.

you had shared smiles with him, stories of the crazy memories made while exorcising curses and the near-death experiences shared while on missions together.

and you knew gojo and getou were near inseparable during their time at jujutsu tech; you couldn't imagine the pain gojo was going through with the news of his one and only becoming a murderer wanted in all of jujutsu society.

you find gojo satoru alone in getou's old dorm room. it's empty; the once neat, but lived in dorm now completely void of any evidence of being lived in with the exception of a framed picture of your class left on the nightstand.

getou and gojo tower over you and ieri, but it's all smiles from the four of you. because of the small frame and the number of people in the photo, you're all squished together. though, it's not like any of you minded.

a perfect picture of youth; the most beautiful moment in life.

the frame is held in gojo's hand as he sits on getou's dorm bed. you can see his fingers clench the frame as frustration settles into his bones, before he relaxes once more.

"it's not your fault, you know," you say gently, breaking the silence and hopefully through the roaring storm that you know is brewing within gojo's head. you step into the room and join gojo on the bed; he doesn't move and he doesn't face you.

"no one saw it coming." you try to reassure him, but you know any attempts at this point are futile. gojo does not respond, a flood of memories flying by crystalline eyes as he tries to figure out when it went so wrong.

the silence is permeable as reality settles into gojo. his lips part, a shaky breath, and he's speaking again.

"i should've seen it coming," he whispers. there's a clear anger in his voice, though you know full well exactly who it's directed at. "i was his friend and i didn't even realize he was hurting alone." His voice cracks.

"i didn't even do anything to save him."

it is then that you begin to see gojo as who he is. he isn't an untouchable god who feared nothing, who had enemies that couldn't even lift a finger to hurt him if they even dared. this gojo beside you isn't an omnipotent god, he's just a kid like you; he's human. he's vulnerable, even if the elders believe otherwise, for his friends are his one and only achilles' heel and the key to his humanity.

not quite knowing the words to comfort him, you reach over to hold his hand. it isn't much, but you know firsthand that just having someone beside you to help support your pain is better than shouldering everything alone.

the tight squeeze of your hand and the quite sniffles beside you are all you need as a reminder that gojo satoru is not a god; he is only gojo satoru.

the second time gojo felt genuine fear was when he nearly lost you.

as a result of a curse that was underestimated for second-class sorcerors to take, you had become collateral for a simple mistake from the higher ups. of course, mistakes could just be that, but everyone knows better.

this was set up so they could easily dispose of you and rule your death as a mere 'accident.' the higher ups needed you gone as the deemed your existence a hinderance to gojo's full potential, a dam in the middle of the river.

lucky for you, you made quick work of the curse before collapsing with the only words you heard being a shout of your name.

the bright lights of the jujutsu high infirmary are the first thing you see when your eyes slowly flutter open. your vision is blurry and the world is still spinning as you regain consciousness. with hesitance, you slowly sit up despite your body aching and telling you to lay back down.

it is only when a firm hand presses against your chest and pushes you down do you actually do so.

crystalline blue meets your gaze. they're playful and full of youth, a pair of blue eyes that you're most familiar with. but theres a shadow of solemnity behind those bright irises and you know exactly why.

"about time you woke up," gojo speaks up, ruffling your hair with his hand. they're roughened from years of training and fighting, but there are no other blemishes that stain the purity of his hands. "i thought you finally had enough of me and decided to kick the bucket, dear." there's a light, jesting tone to his voice as he speaks. he's laughing, though you can see the redness underneath his eyes as he brushes off your near death experience as a joke.

"and leave you alone to torment the students? as if," you jab back with a smile of your own. "i wouldn't ever want to wish that on your students. fushiguro would drag me back from the dead if i left him alone with you."

gojo's bottom lip juts out and his brows furrow in a pout as you say this and you can't help but laugh a little on your own.

"but i know you'll miss me, so i won't die just yet," you reassure your white haired companion. your hand reaches over to hold his own and gives it a gentle squeeze, a reminder that you're alive and still breathing beside him as your pulse and your warmth bleed onto his own.

his hand squeezes yours tightly, as he did years ago, and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth as he bites down onto the plush skin. his eyes aren't focused on you anymore and instead focus on anywhere but you as the reality of the situation settles into his bones.

"promise?" gojo asks, his voice a mere whisper.

he already lost one of his closest friends years ago and you witnessed that heartbreak with your own eyes as you had comforted gojo when he needed it most. you couldn't imagine how his fragile heart would break again if he had lost you just now.

despite being the strongest, you know that not being able to fully protect the ones he held close was one of gojo's biggest weaknesses as much as he tried to hide it.

but you know that you couldn't give him any empty promises knowing the work you're doing. it would only give him false hope and the both of you know that better than anyone else.

you don't answer him and instead pull his hand to your lips, pressing a soft kiss onto his skin. with a gentle tug, the hand held by gojo is pulled into his chest as he cradles your palm. his fingers intertwine with yours and your heart swells at the small action.

it is then that you meet crystalline blue once more, though this time they are unwavering as they firmly stand their ground against the hands of fate that, at any moment, could cruelly tear the two of you apart.

"don't leave me," gojo begs. "you can't leave me until the world has turned for the better, for us and for the youth of jujutsu society. i'll make it happen so..."

the once invincible sorcerer brings your hand up to his lips and he presses a kiss along your knuckles, reciprocating the act you did before.

"please, don't leave me."

gojo leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. it's soft and hesitant, but you know at this point his fear of your life nearly slipping through his fingers has caught up to him. he pulls away, only to lean down again to kiss you.

your heart flutters feeling his lips kiss yours and you can tell from the way his lips barely ghost of yours that gojo is scared you'll disappear from him if he moves the wrong way. like a warm wave easing the worries that burrow into his entire being, your hand that's free from the one held in gojo's reaches up to cup his face. your thumb caresses his cheek and bring him closer to you, reassuring him that you won't slip away from him should he kiss you too hard.

gojo pulls away from the kiss with cheeks warm and his eyes, now a calming blue that held the stars you love so much, glint with satisfaction and relief.

though, the sweet and tender moment shared between lovers is ruined the moment gojo opens his mouth again.

"don't break my promise, okay? i don't care if you die, i'll die with you and haunt you forever as punishment for dying first, okay?" your white haired boyfriend urges as he leans his forehead against you, blue now an annoyance to you as he forces you to make eye contact with him.

your hand pushes his face away with a snort, ignoring his whining complaints as you do so.

though, it's not like you would ever willingly die first. you couldn't leave gojo satoru alone, your soul couldn't bear the burden of knowing you would shatter the glass that makes gojo's heart.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #satoru gojo x reader #didi writes #this got more serious than intended but wtv LOL #this is how i cope with hs gojo arc being animated #i hate stsg so much.#makes my stsg plushies kiss and make up #yes ik there's another time where gojo loses his resolve #but that's for manga readers to know only

1K notes · View notes

mediumgayitalian · 27 days

Text

The crooked, creaky door of the cluttered infirmary storage room pushes open and slams shut in the span of a second, just barely allowing someone to dart through. Nico jumps, banging his head on the shelf he’s hiding under, chomping full force on his lip to bite back a shout. The shadows, on lucky reflex, bend around him and shroud his face. The rest of him he tucks further into the forgotten corner between two filing cabinets, holding his breath.

Under the unflattering light of the single swinging lightbulb, Will looks dull.

A thin headband attempts to hold back his frizzy hair, although it does very little. Curls stick out oddly and many shorter hairs are plastered to his temples and the back of his neck. His skin is unusually lacklustre, even pale, except for the high flush around his cheekbones. The bruising under his eyes rivals Nico’s. He has been wearing the same scrubs for the last two days.

With one last look at the closed door, nothing but garbled voices filtering through the heavy wood, he slumps. He drops his face into his chapped and bleeding hands, heels pressed into his eyes, and holds them there for ten seconds, twenty. Slowly, with trembles so minute they are at first glance unnoticeable, his shoulders begin to shake. The long fingers flexed and tensed around his forehead curl tightly, and he twitches, whole body trembling, teeth sunk hard into his bottom lip to stop his chin from quivering.

It does not work.

The first sob is quiet. He catches it quickly, forcing it back down, breathing heavily through his nose and out his mouth to beat it back. The second follows quickly, though, and it’s harder to choke down. When his face crumples, his resolve goes with it, and his knees hit the floor, sharp crack swallowed by the stillness of the room. He curls forward until his nose nearly hits his knees, hands sliding through his hair and over his ears and settling finally clutching together in the dip of his chest, bouncing with every heave of his chest. It’s quiet, his crying, enough that every dropped tear can be heard as it hits the dusty floor. The only time his sobs are ever audible is when he opens his mouth, trying desperately to soak up enough air to catch himself, to carry himself through.

Mute horror holds Nico’s tongue hostage.

He’d escaped in here the second Will had been called away this morning, dragged for the umpteenth time to handle a crashing patient or a complicated hymn or to soothe someone’s nerves. For the past two days he’s been doing his best to monitor Nico and a handful of other front liners who’d exhausted themselves in battle, but his focus has been split and the infirmary has been crowded. Whenever he runs off to put out whatever fire had cropped up — sometimes literally — the whispers start, the glances, the skin crawling up Nico’s back. Nico can hardly tell anymore what’s the shadows and what’s the people around him, watching him out of the corners of their eyes like they’re waiting for him to bust out a scythe and a black hooded cloak and start reaping.

The storage room is supposed to be an escape. Out of the way and forgotten as it is, it is supposed to be the place he can hide for an hour, escape the heavy gaze of the rest of the camp, collect himself before braving it all again.

Clearly, though, he’s not the only one who thinks so.

There’s something disorienting about seeing Will Solace cry. In the few times Nico has spoken with him during his visits to camp, he’s been a barely-contained explosion of energy, whether talking Nico’s ear off with updates about people he barely knows and references he hardly understands or cussing him out for overextending himself. He’s used — as much as he can be to someone he’s only beginning to really get to know — to his wildly flailing hands and widely playful grin, his loud drawling voice, his painful, constant brightness.

His hands, now, clench until they’re bloodless, trembling. There is no hint of his wide smile or twinkling eyes, because his face is hidden by all the hair that his given up on the pretence of the hairband, and the only sound from him are his gasping breaths and swallowed-back sobs. Nico watches him because he cannot look away. He flinches because every cry, every rough, scraping inhale, sounds like shattering rock, like an iceberg breaking off a glacier.

A quiet beeping startles them both.

For a stretch of time Will is motionless. The beeping continues, steady and soft, bouncing off the cluttered shelves and fading before they echo. After the third round — and Nico counts, if anything for something to do besides watch the chafed skin on Will’s hands crack and bleed with every flex — he drags himself upright, nails drawing lines in the thick dust of the floorboards, and rests back on his heels. He breathes for a moment, shuddering, hands pressed flat to his face; in, beep, beep, beep; out, beep, beep, beep. None of his breaths are ever steady, but he wastes no more time, swiping under his eyes and pinching his cheeks to restore his face to some of its usual colour. He grips onto each board of the shelf to his right as he yanks himself upwards, hand over hand, until he’s stretched, finally, to stand, although there remains a slouch to his broad shoulders.

The beeping continues, emanating from the watch on his left hand, growing softer or louder as he trails his fingers over the shelves from one end to the other, from the first, the second, the third. He pauses finally on a collection of bottles, turning them carefully to read the labels, then tucks them each gently into his already bulging pockets until he is left with what he must carry between his fingers.

The shadows bend to cover Nico again as Will turns, unknowingly facing him, and pulls himself suddenly straight-backed, chin set high, shoulders squared. He smiles, wide, fractured, squinting his eyes deliberately. The beeping stops. He breathes, in, smile, out, nod, and turns, striding, back to the door, opening it with flourish and swiping the dust off his clothes.

“Found them! Sorry it took so long, I really had to look —”

The door swings shut behind him, cutting off the rest of his sentence.

Nico stares at it with bile churning in his too-empty stomach.

———

art by the incredible @clingonlikeclingwrap

263 notes · View notes

aibafiles · 21 hours

Text

i have begun to suspect that the question is not "where is zagreus" but rather "when is zagreus"

#i kinda rotated the idea in my brain a bit after chronos isekai'd melinoe to hades 1-era asphodel #and then i got to the third time fighting him + the flashback and like. hear me out ok #he notes that melinoe is capable of escaping his techniques. 'your brother was not so fortunate'#and it's obviously not identical but the way he freezes everyone in time is not dissimilar to what he does before sending melinoe back #and based on the state hades and hypnos are in i think it's possible that everyone has met a different fate relevant to their character #and that particular bit of pre-fight dialogue implies he could be in cosmic time-out somewhen #how does this all get resolved? who knows!#personal #hades ii spoilers #hades 2 spoilers #hades ii #hades 2 #this game has a vice grip on my brain. i was enjoying it from the start but this fates business is cool as fuck

149 notes · View notes

ferociouslycreativemystery · 13 days

Text

Live Musgrave Reaction ↳ Sherlock Holmes Granada (1984) - s03e04 - The Musgrave Ritual

#he looks at watson TWICE #also crucial context here is watson delivers this entirely in whispers #what even is this entire episode #I suppose this was intended as a 'so Sherlock views my butler as more his intellectual equal than I?' kind of moment #but my heart knows the truth 😌#'how come the symbiotic pair of you aren't betrothed yet?!'#oh and the new colour sliders in davinci resolve are made of actual ✨magic✨#they do the exact thing my brain wants to do to images #I could cry 😂😂😭😭😭#maddie's gif tag #maddie's sh tag #sherlock holmes 1984 #sherlock holmes granada #granada sherlock holmes #granada holmes #granada johnlock #might put up a before/after comparison for these cause the difference is HUGE #oh the joy of working with video that hasn't been colour graded at all :)#look at the white balance! the skin tones! the depth of the cyan in that stairwell! that's all me!! I did that manually!!!#fuckin... hooray!!!#(I cannot be trusted with the english language anymore)

155 notes · View notes

redrobin-detective · 8 months

Text

Something I wonder about Simon and Betty's relationship is how long they were together before the whole crown ordeal. But they were engaged, you say. My aunt (in)famously met my uncle and had a ring on her finger in 8 weeks. We've seen that both Betty and Simon were both weird outcasts, crazy determined and a pinch insane. I would not be surprised if they decided they'd met their one true love and got engaged super quick.

My point being, Betty's shifting to revolve around Simon and Simon's rose colored glasses of their relationship feels very much like New Love. They're people who love each other and love being a couple but still haven't quite figured out how to coexist together, as two people in a partnership. I feel like if they'd known each other longer, lived together longer, some of the issues we're seeing would have probably self resolved.

I don't think their relationship is toxic nor is it totally perfect. It's two lonely, most likely neurodivergent people in a relatively early relationship still figuring out how it works. Everything that happened afterwards: the crown, the seperation, the time travel, the magic/madness/sadness just exemplified issues they had both as individuals and as a couple.

#fionna and cake #fionna and cake spoilers #simon petrikov #betty grof #in the tags its either #'oh they're toxic' or 'owo literal soulmates'#but i think its both more simple and yet more complicated #its struck me from the very start that they were eternally engaged #they never got to be married they're still stuck at this in between milestone #plus the way they act/talk around one another it HAS that new relationship vibe #If i were to guess they were each other's first romantic relationship #they loved so hard but they didnt really understand how it worked (mood)#if tehy'd had time and space like normal people yeah I think they'd have been fine #unfortunately all manner of bs got in the way and they never got to resolve some of these issues #it doesnt make one right over the other it just adds another layer of tragedy to their story #they only had time to get to know each other -to really feel understood- before it was taken away #Artists call betty 'simons wife #but its soooo important to me that they never made it that far #a flower that was plucked before it had a chance to bloom #anyway just my thoughts #petrigrov forever

413 notes · View notes

dailyedgeworth · 5 months

Text

today, you'll never guess what happened at gourd lake

#flashing lights #flashing #video #caramelldansen #THIS SUCKS IM SORRY IT DOESNT EVEN GO ON BEAT #davinci resolve died on me As I Was Making this #it must be a sign i should've just given up... but alas. here we are #i dont know why it's so small. i dont know how this works #miles edgeworth #ace attorney

296 notes · View notes

arminsumi · 4 months

Text

i wrote a future chapter idea for i want to kiss you and it accidentally got angsty but in a kinda sweet way??

satoru and suguru missing you after you return home :(

#u know how long distance can be #i will try not include much angst in this fic lol #and it will be resolved 👍

148 notes · View notes

serasfanfiction · 2 months

Text

Part 1 | Part 2| Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

The attacks did not stop at the one.

After the third attack, Lucifer decided it was time to take a more proactive approach. Knowing that Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, was at the Hotel and more than willing to literally eat their attackers alive wasn't serving as enough of a deterrent.

It looked like they were going to need a bigger reminder about who all resided in the hotel.

Unfortunately, they didn't know who was behind the attacks. Lucifer had snagged someone during each of the attacks, and each time, the story was the same: the group had received a call to go roughen up the residents of the hotel, but no names were ever given.

It was smart. Annoying, but smart.

Frustrated, Lucifer tossed the last of this round of goons to Alastor (and if the action mimicked tossing a dog a treat, well, no one had called him on it, yet). The redhead hummed in pleasure at his work, the sound somehow soothing rather than grating through his radio filter.

The King of Hell watched him, considering. Their opponent knew Alastor was here. Was wary enough of him not to give them any names. The skill levels of the goons were getting better, but they were still no match, really, for either of them.

The only one he truly knew to any capacity was Alastor, and he doubted the redhead was behind this. Alastor wasn't about to undermine the hotel he was so very obviously invested in, even if it was only for his own 'entertainment.'

It was most likely it was another one of those Overlords. Lucifer had only met a couple of them. Hadn't really paid attention to the politics since the system was just starting to get off the ground. He knew Carmilla Carmine for all that he hadn't seen her in nearly two decades. Their connection had been deliberately buried until only Carmilla, Lilith, and himself knew about it anymore.

He had met Zestial, only the once, but that had been back when the spider Overlord was young and new to his position. That must have been... three or four hundred years ago?

Which meant that enlisting Alastor's help was his best bet, something he absolutely did not want to do. Lucifer had managed to avoid anything more than a gentleman's agreement the last time they'd done anything transactional because Alastor had wanted his chance at a pound of flesh more than he wanted to escalate the tensions between them.

Asking for his help with an investigation, something that was going to take potentially a large amount of time and energy, was going to be costly.

Lucifer grimaced. At this stage, he was going to have to try it keep any transactions as one-off as possible. One time deals with a clear give and take. No loop holes or vague details.

Alastor, who had returned back to his usual form, watched him, having picked up on the change in mood. He appeared to be in a good mood, having just had a rather large meal and all.

Well, no better time to do this.

Lucifer lightly touched down in front him, just out of arm's reach. The distance seemed to amuse the deer demon, further adding to the hypothesis that he was closer to an agreeable mood than usual.

"May I speak with you. In private?" Lucifer grit his teeth, but forced out a polite, "Please?"

Alastor considered him. "I assume it's about this latest round of nonsense?"

"Yes, but." Lucifer glanced behind him. Charlie and the rest of the residents were watching them from the doorway, always ready to step in if needed. He turned back to the redhead. "I would prefer to have this discussion in private. If you feel better with it, we can discuss it in your room."

It was probably a little telling, giving up the familiar ground again, but he felt it was still the most likely place to keep Alastor agreeable.

Alastor hummed, placing his hands behind his back as he began the short walk back to the hotel. Lucifer came up to walk beside him, keeping his distance but forced to stay a little closer for the sake of privacy.

The redhead's smile was knowing, aware of what he was doing. "Very well, your Magesty. Perhaps after we send everyone back on their way?"

It was a subtle way of asking how public Lucifer wanted anyone to know about their meeting. "Later tonight, after everyone has gone to bed."

People were likely going to see them working together at some point, but he'd rather postpone that mess as long as possible.

Alastor's smile took on a hint of teeth, eyes half lidded with the promise of seeing something amusing. "I look forward to our chat, then."

Oh, Lucifer bet he did.

Lucifer put it out of his mind, surrendering himself to Charlie's inspection. The wound to his hand was long gone and not even a concern any more, but it seemed his daughter was still shaken by the fact that her father was just as vulnerable to Angelic Steel as her girlfriend was.

He spent the majority of the rest of the day in her company, something that had brought her comfort after the last fight, only escaping her clutches when she and Vaggie decided to call it a night.

"Night, Dad! Remember to take it easy tonight," she called over to him as she headed out.

Lucifer and Vaggie shared a look. The latter, taking pity on the former, took hold of Charlie's arms and began leading her away. "Yes, yes, he got the message. You're smothering him."

Lucifer heard his daughter gasp and he caught a glimpse of a fretting expression on her face before she was led around the corner. "He needs fretting!" he thought he heard her exclaim before she was too far out of earshot.

The blond knew he had a dopey smile on his face, but he was just so happy to get to spend as much time with her as he had been getting lately. He just wanted to soak it all up before she got tired of him and no longer needed him anymore.

"You need anything else, sir?"

Lucifer twisted around to face the bar, remembering the drink in his hand. He'd felt like something non-alcoholic tonight (he needed all of his wits to survive tonight), and since a wider variety of drinks had been added to the menu, he'd thought he'd indulge. "Nah, but thanks, Husk. Don't stay up on my account. I'll clean my glass before I leave."

The winged cat grunted. He finished up the final glass he'd been cleaning, placing it with the others. "Don't have to tell me twice. Night, sir."

Lucifer waved him off. They really did need to work on the 'sir' part, but Husk was as stubborn as the rest of them.

The hotel began to settle as one hour passed, then the next. When he could no longer hear and movement, he downed the rest of his drink. It didn't taste as good at room temperature, but there was no need to waste it. A little twirl of his finger and a touch of magic, the glass was as good as new.

He placed the glass in its designated spot behind the counter. He took a deep, steading breathe, resisting the urge to put this off. Better to get it over with.

Red smoke swirled around him as he transported him straight out of the lobby and up to Alastor's room. He didn't want to take any chances that someone would see him coming and going. He reappeared as close to the entrance of the room as he could, as to not impolite intrude more than he already was. Normally, he wouldn't care, but, again. Playing nice.

He looked around until he spotted his quarry over by the fireplace, still fully dressed as normal and sipping who knew what.

"Ah, sire, I was beginning to wonder if you'd keep me waiting." Alastor gestured to the small table set out between his chair and a second chair to entertain guests. "You'll have to forgive me. Your tea has likely gone cold, but I expected you an hour ago." His smile wasn't sorry in the least.

Well, so much for being in an agreeable mood.

Lucifer crossed the room to the vacant chair. He dropped into it, ignoring the drink. He wouldn't have accepted anything from the cannibal at this stage in their acquaintance anyway. "I'd like some information on the current Overlords."

Alastor placed his cup on the saucer resting on his lap. "Ah! Straight to business. Good, man." The redhead looked his guest up and down. "And what have you to offer in exchange for this information?"

Lucifer settled into his seat, crossing one leg over the other, as he lounged to the side. His elbow came to rest on the arm rest. "You tell me what you want and I'll tell you if I'm willing to pay it."

Alastor's eyes took on a golden glow, pupils morphing into dials. "You'll uphold the bargain, even if I don't have all the information you want?"

He hated to do it, but, "Yes."

The deer demon leaned forward. "This will be a binding deal, not an agreement."

Just as he thought. The blond responded, again, "Yes."

Alastor's body language shifted. Something sinister, never quite buried and never hidden well rising to the surface. Lucifer could almost see him considering his options, weighing each one in turn.

Finally, he settled on, "Your blood, taken at a time of my choosing."

Lucifer didn't wince, although he wanted to. He sighed, nodding. "One time. No ongoing feedings. We don't do it in public. If I need anything else from you after this, we can negotiate any terms at that time."

Alastor placed his cup and saucer on the table. "Also, you take on that delightful deer form of yours, and I get to feed until I'm full. No retaliation."

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at him, noting the word 'full.' "Can you actually get full? I know you're not a real windigo, but I can see the influences."

A red tipped claw waved the concern off. "Despite all appearances to the contrary, I am not a 'bottomless pit.'" Alastor did not actually use finger quotes around the phrase, which he seemed to find distasteful, but Lucifer heard them anyway. Someone had used this phrase against him in the past. "It simply takes a rather large meal to sate my appetite."

His grin widened with anticipation and a touch of excitement. "Whatever you seraphim are made of, your blood was exceptionally potent! I was very nearly full off of it all by itself."

Lucifer shuddered, even as he matched Alastor's grin with near manic one of his own. He certainly hoped it would be. Fallen or not, he was still one of his father's most powerful creations. "Your terms are acceptable."

Alastor held out his hand, the shadows that made up his magic unnaturally darkening the room. The stitches along his coat and smile cast a sickly green glow across his person. "I take it we have a deal?"

Lucifer felt his true form come over him. He didn't allow himself to hesitate. He reached out and took the Radio Demon's hand.

"Deal."

Shadows lit by green symbols spread out across the room and down into the hotel. The foundation creeked with the power of the binding being cast around the deal makers. If this had been the original building, it would have crumbled.

(Down in their rooms, the other residents shifted uneasily in their sleep. Husk, the only one still awake, stared at the ceiling in grim trepidation as evidence of his master's newest deal lit up his room.)

The magic faded away as they drew their hands away. Lucifer could feel the weight of the chain settle around his neck. Could see the other end of it wrapping around Alastor's hands, laying in wait for him to call in it.

It was not the most pleased he'd ever seen the Radio Demon, but it was close.

Alastor, sometimes capable of pretending to be meciful, let the chain disappear. He picked back up his drink, prompting, "You had some questions, your Majesty?"

Lucifer pressed his lips together briefly. He hated the way Alastor said his title on a good day. Knew he did it just to annoy him. Usually, he let it slide. Perhaps it was the new weight around his throat and the delight in every line of Alastor's body that made it grate this time.

He forced himself to relax.

"Tell me about the current Overlords. The territories they hold. What alliances they have."

Alastor leaned back in his own seat, making himself comfortable. "Well, if we're going to talk about anyone, we must start the esteemed, Zestial..." The radio host indeed proved to be knowledgeable in this area, providing concise and easy to follow information whenever Lucifer asked for clarification.

For instance: "Carmilla Carmine?" Lucifer had had ample practice with pretending he had never the Overlord. There was nothing in his tone to give it away. "She was the one that provided the weapons Angel and the others used, yes?"

"Yes." Alastor tilted his head to the side. "I must admit, I'm a little surprised you're not more concerned about how much Angel Steel there is laying around. It might be expensive, but it's certainly everywhere. Isn't it a danger to you and your daughter?"

It was only the fact that there wasn't any audible malice to the question, just the sense that the redhead was poking to see if Lucifer would be willing to share the information, that held his knee jerk response in check. This was, indeed, a Q&A for Lucifer to question and Alastor to answer. There was little reason to give anything away in this instance.

Ultimately, the blond settled on letting him have this, as the redhead had already seen him bleed.

Lucifer held up the hand that had been impaled. Alastor's eyes followed the movement, focusing in on the line of slightly lighter grey that was all that remained of the wound. It was darker than it had been just yesterday and would be darker still tomorrow. "Angelic Steel holds little threat to me or to Charlie." It might have, had she been a Nephilim born of the union between an ordinary angel and human, but as one born of a seraphim and the first woman? Not a chance. "It can hurt us, but it's little more of an inconvenience."

Now, if someone where to get their hands on Charlie's trident and attack her with it? Well. No one needed to know that.

Alastor made that humming noise he made when he was digesting a new tidbit of information. He picked up his narrative, going on to explain the alliance between himself and various other Overlords. From the way he spoke of her, Lucifer got the impression that Alastor actually liked this 'Rosie' character, while he just as clearly did not like the Vees, which was apparently the handle for a group of three separate Overlords.

He didn't realize he knew more Overlord names than he thought he did, until he recognized another name. "Valentino. He's the one that Angel has a contract with?"

Alastor nodded. "Yes. To my understanding, Valentino owns Angel's soul, but can only exert any control over him while in the studio. Seems a silly little loop hole, if you ask me."

The nonchalance, the so little care for Angel's clear suffering was a stark reminder that Alastor himself was an Overlord with his own souls. Lucifer frowned at him, a little of his contempt bleeding into his tone, as he accused, "A loop hole I'm sure you'd never allow your own souls, hm?"

Alastor laughed. "Ha ha! Oh no! Not at all. Any soul I own, it's total and complete." He smirked back in the face of Lucifer's disgust. "But I mostly deal with favors, more so than souls. I like to do little things for others, and later, at a time of my choosing, they do something for me." His expression grew thoughtful. "Why, cashing in a few of my favors is how I got that silly little advertisement for the hotel on the air. I'm sure you've gotten around to seeing it by now, yes?"

Lucifer felt his irritation simmering below the surface. Only allowed the sharpening of the claws he wanted to use to wipe that smug little grin off Alastor's face be the only indication of it. He pushed the conversation on, instead of letting the sinner have the point. "And do you hold territory?"

The Radio Demon held up his hands to bring attention the room as a whole. "Oh, nothing like that. My tower is more than enough, although I do get a bit possessive with the hotel itself, since I've invested so much time and energy into it." He pointed to the radio on the shelf behind him. "I don't really need more when I can reach anywhere with a radio on hand. My favors owed do a great deal of the work of covering any gaps in my coverage."

Lucifer remembered him mentioning he had a talk show. Now that it was brought up, he recalled seeing several of the old fashioned radios around the hotel. Charlie had one in her room and there was one in the main foyer. He had been thinking of adding one into his room, but hadn't gotten around to it.

Suddenly, he wasn't so sure that was a great idea. Perhaps he could sneak out the one in Charlie's room the next time he was in there?

He gestured for the other to continue. When Alastor finished, Lucifer took a moment to chew on the information he had been given. It was a good start, better than where he was at the beginning of the day. But it didn't really narrow anything down.

"Do you know of anyone in particular who might feel threatened by what the hotel is trying to accomplish?"

Alastor laughed, finding the question a bit absurd. "Any of us might find it threatening, my dear king. Our deals and our reputations are our most powerful tools. The possibility that souls can be redeemed means that those deals might be broken which threatens our power."

Lucifer supposed it was too easy, if there had been an simple response to that question. Alastor surprised him, though, when he added, "Really, I don't know why anyone is worried about the hotel, when supposedly you're a bigger threat yourself."

The blond frowned, attention sharpening. "What? Me? What do I have to do with any of that?"

Alastor's posture was as languid as it had been since he had settled in. Nothing on the surface seemed to have changed, but Lucifer could feel the weight of his gaze as he explained, "Oh, you know. That silly legend that's been hanging around."

Lucifer blinked at him, baffled. "What legend?"

"The one that says you can break deals."

Unbidden, a memory rose to the surface. Of himself standing above a sinner kneeling at the base of his throne. The sound of the shattering of their chain and the tinkling sound as the links hit the floor - once, twice - and then vanished. It had been the last time he'd ever interfered in the drama between sinners. Lucifer blinked, the memory vanishing like smoke.

He almost dismissed it. Almost let the truth die and remain a myth. Something about the way Alastor was watching him held him back. Whispered: this is important.

Telegraphing the movement, the Devil raised his free hand. Seeing he had the Radio Demon's full attention, he flicked the chain that represented their Deal, putting a little power into it to force the chain to materialize.

Alastor jolted, spine straightening and ears standing on end, half looking like he had received an electric shock.

Lucifer lowered his hand, letting the chain disappear. "I can't break deals I've made, if that's what you're worried about."

The redhead rolled the wrist his end of the chain was wrapped around, trying to work some feeling back into the suddenly numb limb. He still looked amused, but only by the skin of his teeth. "Come now, it's like you think I was accusing you of being dishonorable!" He visibly pulled his undaunted mask back into place. "I was merely asking if you could break other people's deals!"

Uh huh. Sure he was.

Still. With the same level of casualness, Lucifer straightened from his slouch. Dominant hand freed, he used it to reach out and pluck a different chain right out of thin air.

Alastor's eyes widened fully from the normal half-lidded state. One side of the chain was wrapped around the redhead's wrist, showing him the owner of the Deal. The other side trailed off under the door and out of the room.

If one were to follow it to its other end, they would have found themselves standing outside of Husk's door.

Lucifer watched Alastor, the latter's eyes glued to the former's grip on the chain. Anticipation was evident in Alastor's expression, but it was a little harder to parse out the other emotion in there.

Hope.

But hope of what?

Lucifer tightened his grip, testing the strength (Alastor's strength) of the Deal. The links creaked and groaned under his own power and he found that it would be easy to break them.

Instead of breaking them, however, he released the chain instead.

Alastor's left ear twitched, expression growing rigid, as if he had forgotten he was being watched. Something related to disappointment, but not quite, crossed it before curiosity took it's place. "You didn't break it?"

"Husk is an adult and he made his own choices. Contrary to popular belief, I do appreciate consequences." Perhaps Lucifer would be willing to change his stance on the subject in the future - he was growing attached to the members of the hotel, besides Charlie and Vaggie, by default. He certainly would if Charlie ever asked him to. "Besides, I'm not in the market to make anymore of an enemy out of you tonight than you already are."

There was that familiar amusement again. "Oh? Does that mean I'm growing on you, sire?"

Lucifer shuddered, waving the idea away like the smell of it was something foul and putrid, which only seemed to amuse Alastor some more. "Er, no. Absolutely not. Father, you're so lucky Charlie likes you."

"Indeed." Alastor looked to the clock on top of his fireplace, which drew Lucifer's attention to it.

Egad, Lucifer thought to himself as he saw the time, when did it get so late?

"Did you have any other questions for me, sire?"

Lucifer was both closer to his goal and yet further away from it than when they started. It did indeed seem like an Overlord was responsible for the attacks, but it was unlikely that this line of inquiry would bear any more fruit.

He sighed. He didn't like what he was about to do, but it had to be done anyway. "No, I don't have any future questions at this time."

Both sides felt the redhead's side of the Deal closing, Alastor's end fulfilled. His hands flexed around the feel of the chain and then settled. Perfectly polite, he said, "Splendid! Fancy doing business with you. You don't mind if we call this a night, then?"

Lucifer didn't want to poke that bear, but he couldn't help but ask: "You're not going to cash in your deal tonight?"

The Radio Demon looked at him, knowing he was really asking it so that they could get it over with as soon as possible. "Nonsense! I've already eaten a hardy meal today." Alastor grinned from ear to ear, looking for all the world like he was talking about a 5 Star restaurant's menu and not about drinking someone's blood straight from the source. "I'd much rather reserve this meal to a time I could enjoy it to the fullest."

Lucifer grimaced. Cannibals. Either way, the desire to not have those teeth in this neck tonight won over the need to get this over with and he decided that he was not, in fact, going to look that gift horse in the mouth that night. "Whelp, good talk!" The little king sprung to his feet. To avoid turning his back on the creature that literally had license to take a bite out of him, he decided he was just going to portal out. "Uh, let me know when you want to, uh, do the thing."

As he portalled out, he heard Alastor drawl, tone heavy with dark promise, "I most certainly will."

tbc

Part 6

#radioapple #alastor #lucifer morningstar #deer lucifer fic #deer lucifer who is not actually appearing in this chapter #he will be back in the next part #along with some dancing?#the muses think there will be dancing #i don't know how far this plot will go #i might just resolve it off screen after its served its purpose #we'll see #i liked the idea that lucifer could break deals other than his own #so i decided to incorporate it #it'll be of use later #:)

81 notes · View notes