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#and honestly didn't destroy much of anything
jedi-enthusiast · 2 days
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Honestly I’m so confused why people are so upset that Israel was included in Eurovision, like…my dude it’s literally a music contest for a bunch of countries---that Israel has already been included in before---not an actual political statement.
It’s literally insane to me, especially with how people were treating the Israeli contestant---protesting her, forcing her to change her song, other contestants saying shit like “talking to her doesn’t mean I support Israel,” etc. etc.
And I feel like that’s a reoccurring thing with all this mainstream pro-Palestine bullshit: y’all don’t actually care about Palestine or want to help anyone, you just want “good person points” socially, but don’t actually care about your impact.
You'll post shit like "stan Hamas" and ignore the fact that they're literally a terrorist organization dedicated to killing Jews, and that they're literally hurting Palestinians too, as well as the fact that the conflict between Israel and Palestine is only ongoing because Hamas keeps breaking the ceasefire and won't give back hostages.
But you'll ignore all of the organizations that actually help Palestine because they're run by Jews/Israelis, or even just supported by Jews and Israelis.
(And how much do you want to bet that the same people who cry- "Hamas is only doing this because of Israel's actions regarding Palestine, so it's justified/reasonable/understandable, etc." -would never say that if it was a group like, say, ISIS that was kidnapping/killing/waging war on Americans because of the US's actions in the Middle East?)
You'll harass random people on college campuses just because they're Jewish, even though they clearly have no fucking say in what a country on the other side of the world does, and barricade yourselves inside a building and be shocked when you're suspended or expelled for property damage/harassment/etc.
But you won't volunteer at any organizations that are dedicated to helping Palestine, or donate money to those organizations, or donate food/clothes/etc., or actually do anything besides whine and cry because you helped destroy a campus building and your college doesn't want you there anymore.
(Hell, 99% of y'all don't even bother volunteering for your own communities, so I know you're sure as hell not volunteering to help anyone else's---again, you just want the "good person points")
Everyone that was so gung-ho about "oh yeah, let's punch Nazis!" a few years ago are now spouting Nazi rhetoric.
Everyone that preached that bigotry is never ok, even if someone from a minority does something bad, are now the same people chanting- "Jews are shit!" -and spreading blood libel.
Everyone that was calling for solidarity between minorities and oppressed groups are now the same people ostracizing Jews because they won't condemn the only country that will actually protect them- (or rather, they'll condemn the Israeli governments actions, but won't stand side-by-side with antisemites or say that Israel should be destroyed).
Everyone that said that it wasn't okay for people to be racist towards poc because some of the BLM protests were getting out of hand/violent are now the same ones going- "oh, it's fine to be antisemitic because these disgusting Jews Zionists aren't agreeing with me on everything."
Everyone that was posting shit about being aware of misinformation and doing your research before posting something are now the ones that have no idea what Zionism actually is, don't even know which river and sea their chant means, has no clue what Israel has actually done to Palestine and is just calling it a "genocide" as a buzzword despite all the evidence stating otherwise, etc.
Like...you guys are really just proving that you don't actually have morals beyond what's socially acceptable.
"Never harass random Muslim/gay/trans/black/etc. people just for a cause or because they did something you didn't like...unless they're Jewish, then you can stalk them on campus and be physically violent towards them."
"Bigotry is never okay, even if someone from a minority does something you don't agree with or something awful...unless they're Jewish, then spread blood libel and call for the "final solution" all you want."
"Not everyone from the US/Republican states/Christian churches/etc. agrees with what their government/state/religious leaders are doing, so it's not fair to blame and ostracize them for it...unless it's Jewish people or Israelis or, G-d forbid, Jewish Israelis, then you can hate them and blame them for everything!"
Like, genuinely, fuck off.
You aren't good people, you aren't "making a difference" or "on the right side of history," you don't give a shit about morality or justice or doing any good for anyone---all you care about is your fucking popularity and the social norm.
So keep your stupid, hateful, misinformed hands off of the I/P conflict---you've proven that y'all clearly can't handle having opinions on it.
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grayintogreen · 1 month
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im abt to be so predictable but: director's commentary on the vox/lucifer/lilith dynamic during the months where alastor was away?
HEE HEE. Predictable, maybe, but I've wanted to talk about it.
And I shall do it in a bulleted list!
So Lucifer did not end up keeping Vox's soul contract very long, because there was absolutely no way that Vox was gonna be able to FIND Alastor in a place where very few people ever actually go in Pride and well out of range of technology. Vox absolutely tried though and when that failed, he came back to execute PHASE TWO. Take everything Alastor holds dear! My hotel now, loser.
Obviously this posed a problem when he sat there in the metaphorical door with metaphorical shaving cream on his hands for a MONTH waiting for Alastor to come back and meanwhile Charlie is standing beside him like "have you considered that maybe you put way more effort into hating Alastor and being obsessed with him than is healthy." Vox didn't appreciate this.
He does realize that Alastor might not be coming back and that, in that month, Lilith has been trying to soften him up because she's hotter than Charlie and also scarier and she's very, very persuasive, so he decides, eh for a lark, he'll indulge the "therapy."
Therapy kinda works?? But it's mostly working because he off-sets his psychosexual obsession with Alastor with a new psychosexual obsession: becoming the evil vizier to the royal family. (Not his words, my words.)
Lucifer doesn't trust him, but he appreciates Vox's incredible organizational skills and his ability to actually do interviews and press for the hotel without panicking. They work shockingly well together, which pisses them both off, but Vox is delighted because he's cemented himself as Lucifer's right hand and Lucifer is happy because he isn't forced to do public speaking anymore. Both of them also bond about Alastor sucking and how they kinda both secretly miss him. Lucifer does not tell Vox about the time he visits Alastor, because he knows he'll make it weird.
Lilith doesn't trust Vox either, but she has Charlie's unflappable faith in people coupled with the willingness to destroy you if you break what trust she places in you, so Vox's dick is so scared of Lilith in the worst and best possible way. If there was a way for him to watch Lucilith have sex (there's not- Lilith's wards are amazing), he would be doing it. Instead, he just kinda showers Lilith with compliments and kisses her ass to make Lucifer roll his eyes, because he doesn't really get jealous. At least not over people like Vox.
So to recap: Vox has kinda replaced Lilith and Lucifer as surrogate Vees, except Lucifer is more of a stand-in for Alastor than he is for Valentino. He is thriving in this trio and believes it fully to be because he has them wrapped around his finger because he makes himself EVER SO USEFUL TO THEM.
they know what he's doing. they're not stupid.
they both are kinda into him in that "he is so clearly desperate for attention and approval and we are both dealing with a lot and despite his clearly overinflated sense of importance and villainy, he is actually VERY competent at what he does, so like fine we have an evil vizier now whatever."
Vox is actually winning even if he is still not fucking them. Fuck you, Alastor.
Charlie, for her credit, only thinks about this situationship in terms of "yay progress" and refuses to indulge that Vox is either secretly still evil or fucking her parents. The other hotel guests/employees have actual money on whether or not they are fucking.
DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY ASK GAME.
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noxtivagus · 1 year
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dfhaskdfjsdkf good day 😭
#🌙.vents#i don't remember sleeping this long i think i woke up 12 then 2 then#5. i wld've slept for longer if i didn't force myself to get up n i think the milk tea helped wake me a bit#i'm so..#the burden of my regrets r so suffocating. there are times i can't see anything else when i'm drowning in them.#if such trivial failures affect me this much then how tf will i survive in this cruel world?#i know i'll always find my way but i wonder the lengths of what i sacrifice. of what i deny and destroy within myself#& of how it'll affect me in the unforeseeable future. of what more loss and pain it'll bring in this world#compared to before i don't often put up a mask anymore. even if it's painful i choose to be authentic. i've improved in that sense#but it's not enough. perhaps i'm simply too harsh on myself; forgetting i am human and that i falter too. i'm not perfect n i shouldn't be.#even with my shortcomings there r ppl that stay. that say thank you. and. yeah. yeah.. that should be proof enough of real reciprocation#but.#i don't know am i really just so afraid of being forgotten? left behind? thinking of it n i used to write of that fear often back then#opening up to 'friends'. being told i was loved. that i would always have my place here#this is pathetic i grew up relying too much on success for my worth. i know i'm so much more but#i placed this on myself. this is the ocean i chose to drown myself in. so when i falter in the only thing i grew up being good that#bcs it hurts yk i used to draw. i painted a lot as a kid but what happened to that passion?#i used to write. a lot. but these past few years.. i don't know what's wrong with me. why it's so hard to do that again#piano. if i continued i would have.. i really had the potential to be. good. i mean i#i've never been a genius i've honestly always hated being called that. i know i've always been naturally smart but.#my hard-work carried me further. and i'm not.. smart enough or good enough to be a genius. never have been.#hollow compliments. before hs it was like everyone really just knew me for my brain. nothing of the way i wrote or my passions. just smarts#so now i'm just a shadow; a ghost of who i used to be. in that aspect at least. but. now w my other strengths they've been faltering too#i'm sorry i should've been better i should do more i know i can. but maybe i. i've always overestimated myself#i think when i was around 6-8 before grade school i can't really remember anymore but there was this competition i think#i would've gotten second if i didn't hesitate. if i didn't fucking hesitate. n i think that always stuck with me#bcs i was really quite the timid shy kid. even though i was older i wld be the one following apollo.. i'm sorry. they deserve more than me#bulbel is making me cry bye wtf
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sysig · 2 years
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So as it turns out I might miss lined paper a lot actually
#And also just like - not finishing doodles lol#I do not vibe with this new notebook - away it goes#No kidding I do still intend to use it - my hand did not suffer for that long just to not use it lol#But it will be for when I'm in a fancy mood - a more convenient and less frilly version of my hard-cover acid-free sketchbook#I dislike that guy because of the bad ''''''''''spiral'''''''''' binding >:0#What's the point of easy-release binding if the pages have perforation >:0 I already don't want them to leave their papery prison#Stop making it easier for my delicate and easily destroyed art to escape and blow in the wind >:0#Anyway lol#I have a couple notebooks I can test yet but honestly I've been getting a lot out of my scratch notebook#I mentioned it but I didn't actually explain anything about it lol#It's one of my rejects with a nice texture and otherwise overall paper quality - but it has a crease through literally every page#Something went terribly wrong in the manufacturing and QA that day lol#So I've been using it to just get ideas out of my head rather than make them pretty like I usually do#Filling the page however I want rather than to ''full'' - far I've been using it for mini ideas and calling the page when the mini's done#Which can be as little as five panels or as much as multiple pages - both of which have happened so far lol#And wouldn't you know not limiting myself to ''done perfectly'' has gotten me to make way more minis lol#They're still not at a point where I'm ready to show them off (except on Patreon cough cough) but they exist!#That's way better than keeping them in my head love that#So yeah - lined paper is GOAT
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bet-on-me-13 · 10 months
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Desperate Villain Danny AU
(this is a 17 yr old danny)
It started out slowly.
First, a few of Danny's less active Rouges stopped showing up at all. He didn't really notice, and just assumed that they had finally had their Fill of their Obsession for a while and would simmer down for a bit.
Then, some more of his Rouges stopped showing up. No big deal, but he is getting a little concerned for them. They had definitely not had their fill of their Obsessions yet, why did they stop?
Then, the worst started happen. All of his actual Ghost Friends start to disappear. Ember, Kitty, Johnny, even Amorpho, they all start to not show up at all in the Living World.
He goes looking for them in Realms, but he can't find any of them whatsoever. He tries asking around, but everybody else noticed the disappearances much earlier than him and began to hide away from whatever was taking all of the strong Ghosts. He can't find anybody, and the ones he does find won't tell him anything (or don't know themselves)
It takes weeks of searching, but eventually he gets his answer.
The GIW show up in Amity again after a period of absolutely no activity. They have stepped up their operations HARD. Advanced Ghost Hunting Equipment, Much more Competent Agents, and most worrying of all, they seem to know that Phantom is friends with Sam, Tucker, and Danny Fenton.
The GIW comes to his house for a Meeting with his parents, where he overhears them offering his parents a position in their Organization as Head Scientists. While there they also manage to plant Bugs in Danny's room somehow. Although he finds them quickly enough and destroys them.
And then, one night during dinner while his parents are ranting about the GIWs Labs, they mention something that cinches it for Danny.
"And today we even got to Dissect one of the Spooks! It was that Mind Controlly one, you know the one with the blue firey hair stuff that sang a bunch! We're going back tomorrow to continue our Study, this time we'll see how long it'll pretend to experience pain before it decides to give up on tricking us!"
That night, Danny packed up all his things, destroyed the Ghost Portal alongside everything else in his parents Lab, and left his house.
He tracked down the GIW Base, saved Ember from her Cell, and decimated the surrounding Area. No survivors, none of the research is preserved, and he left the Site Director alive to question him.
Turns out, the GIW had managed to Reverse Engineer the Ghost Portal from that brief period of time where they had taken control of Fenton Works. They had been using their own Portal to kidnap any Ghost they could get their hands on. Using the research from those subjects, they perfected their Ghost Hunting Tech and started going after the bigger fish.
"But good luck finding it, Ecto Scum! The Portals location was hidden to everybody, even me!" He said.
"Where are the others!" Danny cried. He was losing control of his appearance by this point. After seeing what they had done to Ember, he was too angry to maintain his Humanoid Form successfully. Even now, with most of his control, he could hear the Static in the air around him, and see the Glitching of his hands as they clenched this Monsters clothes.
"Scattered!" He said with a crazed laugh, "We knew we couldn't contain all of them, so we send them to all of our sites across the Country! You'll never find them!"
Without another word, Danny plowed his arm through the man's chest.
He turned around, picking up Embers weakened Body, before beginning his long flight to Wisconsin. Vlad still owed him a few Favors after all, and honestly his mentorship offers seemed VERY Tempting right now.
(Why reject him if you don't care about keeping your dad alive anymore?)
...
The JLA had recently received a distress signal from somewhere in the middle of some random Forest in Illinois, but when they got to the location, all they found was a crater filled with the ruins of some kind of Military Base, and so so many Bodies.
They had managed to figure out that this was a Government Site owned by an organization called the GIW. A Paranormal Investigation Wing of the Government focused on the study and capture of Supernatural Beings called Ecto-Entities, otherwise referred to as Ghosts.
As it turns out, an Ecto-Entity that had been terrorizing the local town for a few years now had made a drastic change in normal behavior and had attacked the GIW Base that had been posted there.
They would have destroyed it years ago, but this one was unnaturally powerful. It had eluded their capture and terrorized the Town for years, but they had too much pride to contact the JLA and admit that they needed help. And honestly until now, they didn't really need it. The Entity had been entirely confined to the singular town, and had not strayed from that behavioral Pattern in the 3 years since it's inital sighting. They had made the difficult choice to leave it there, sacrificing one town in exchange for the rest of the country.
But now they did need their help. This Entity, this Phantom, was one of the most powerful beings that had ever recorded, maybe even The Most Powerful. The fact that it had left the Secluded town it usually frequented meant that it was loose to wreak havoc across the rest of the world.
The JLA Needed to Find this thing, and Fast.
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theminecraftbee · 25 days
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The moon has fully set over the horizon. The howling over the server has stopped. Four Hermits sit in a circle, staring just slightly away from each other, as to not be caught staring. Joe is miserably trying to wring mud out of his puppet. Stress isn't bothering about the mud at all but is despairing at how shredded her jumper is. Somehow, Zedaph has only lost a shoe, which is more concerning than any of the prior people. Xisuma is deliberately not checking himself. The damning lack of helmet on his head, though, means he can't avoid feeling how he underwent the same terrible transformation as everyone else.
"So," he says, finally.
"I could use pants," Joe says, finally giving up on washing out his puppet, and, ah. Yes. Those are pretty well destroyed, aren't they? Xisuma looks away politely, feeling his face heat up. It heats up more when he realizes everyone can see it, gosh, he's–he's not so sure how he feels about that–
"I think we all need pants. Look at us," Stress says, and if Xisuma can be looking away any harder, he sure is now. Wait, she said 'all', does that include... Oh, oh dear.
"Well I don't know about you, but I still have perfectly serviceable pants," Zedaph says imperiously.
"You know, if anything, that's weirder, given the way we were all giant wolves traipsing around in the night just now. Which is strange itself! However, wolves don't normally wear pants, so really, the fact the only article of clothing you've lost is your shoes is less miraculous and more actively impossible!" Joe responds.
"Well you're actively impossible," mutters Zedaph.
"My god, it was real," Xisuma says.
"Well, I mean, I sort of figured it had to be, what with the four of us being all covered in mud and tired and your helmet being gone and all that," Stress says.
"It was real," Xisuma says.
The four of them sit in silence a little longer. The sun continues its steady march upwards into the sky. It's April; the day is longer than the night, by now, so they aren't wasting but so much time compared to the time the moon was up. The time the moon was up feels a bit more like a dream than anything else, too; distantly, Xisuma wonders if this is what spiders feel like when they become angry during the night, or what drives the undead from the ground. It's a disquieting thought, and he'd literally lived in a skeleton!
"So," Joe says. "So. Which one of us is going to yell at Zedaph for biting us?"
"Rude!" Zedaph says. "Very rude, I'm not the one that bit you! You bit me! Xisuma bit me, actually, you all saw him!"
"What? No, I didn't!" Xisuma says. "Gosh, if I were a werewolf, don't you think you'd know by now?"
"Hm. Suspicious," Zedaph says.
"No?" Xisuma says.
"I mean, I'd try to claim it was my fault, what with being a monster and all, but I'm actually a different sort of beastie normally," Stress says. "Being all doggy is new for me. I should show Iskall. Hey, do you think I should bite Iskall?"
"Yes," Zedaph says.
"No," Xisuma says.
"I'll split the difference and say maybe," Joe says. "Also, since we're arguing about it anyway, I'll say that I think I'd remember if I bit someone, although maybe I wouldn't. It's been a weird night. Maybe I should just go ahead and get everyone apology gifts instead?"
"Please don't," Zedaph says.
"Aww, but I like his gifts," Stress says.
"Honestly, yeah, I was–no, Zedaph is right, it'd be too distracting," Xisuma says, thinking of many of the, er, gifts he's gotten from Joe in the past. "Besides, it's not your fault. But if none of us bit anyone, then why on earth are we all werewolves no–oh no."
"That was ominous?" Joe says.
"Oh. Ohhhhhh," Zedaph says. "Whoops."
"It was supposed to be a joke about investment bankers," Xisuma says.
"Wait, what, do you really think the silly name turned us into werewolves?" Stress says.
"I had other season plans, Xisuma!" Joe says.
"Hey, does that make me a sheep in wolf's clothing that's also a wolf that turns into a sheep that turns into a wolf? If so, neat," Zedaph says.
"Do you know how annoying it will be to get a werewolf puppet?" Joe says.
"Gosh, I absolutely have to bite Iskall now," Stress says.
Xisuma, for a moment, considers putting a stop to it. If it really is the silly name, the collective, the hats and the howls–if it really is the collective weight of story bearing down on all of them–then really, it's still so early that it would be very easy to stop.
Xisuma considers the competition the rest of the shopping district poses, and how easy it will be to move as a collective when they're also a pack.
Also, he hasn't actually been a wolf before. That's one mob he hasn't done!
"You should bite Iskall. I want to know what it does," Xisuma says, deciding that he's quite bored with being responsible and that if someone wants to stop it, it will have to be not him. "But, er, first, in the meantime, do you think he or Doc is better to ask for a helmet that'll grow to fit my muzzle instead of nearly trapping my skull?"
"Hm," Stress says. "Well, Iskall is pretty good at head electronics."
"Yeah, but Doc is a better choice for abominations against nature!" Joe says.
"What about me? I like abominations," Zedaph says.
"It's okay, Zedaph, it's just you don't make many helmets, is all," Xisuma says. "We'll run around being abominations of nature, gosh, most full moons together. Is that good enough?"
"Fine," Zedaph says. "I'm bringing the snacks. I have sheep, and I've always wanted to try cannibalism."
"I guess werewolves wouldn't have to worry about prions," Joe says, nodding.
"Well, if you're going to get Doc, I'm going to go bite Iskall. I know I don't got fangs right now but it'll be very funny either way," Stress says.
"Have fun!" Xisuma says, and even though he's still red, and no one has pants but Zedaph, and he feels vaguely sick without his helmet, he also feels something close to pure delight. Gosh. Werewolves, huh? What a concept, having a little pack. He'll have to make the most of it; they've already seen his face anyway, and not one of them have commented or looked him in the eyes. Clearly, it won't matter so much if Doc takes a while with the helmet.
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gffa · 19 days
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One thing that caught my attention while watching The Phantom Menace in the theater, a movie I didn't expect to find anything new with after how many times I've seen it and analyzed it, was that Sidious mentions multiple times that he has to change his plans to fit the new circumstances. It got me to thinking about how Palpatine gets credit for his carefully crafted plans, but often times not for how flexible he is in changing them on the fly, especially in time travel fics where someone destroys one of his plans and that's the end of it. Which, I'm not advocating against, I love a good Take That Wrinkled Walnut The Fuck Down However You Gotta Do It fic and I don't want them to change! But in canon Palpatine makes note of things he's not expecting, like:
When Valorum sends the Jedi as ambassadors, it's not part of Sidious' plan: DAULTAY DOFINE: This scheme of yours has failed, Lord Sidious. The blockade is finished. We dare not go against the Jedi. DARTH SIDIOUS: Viceroy, I don't want this stunted slime in my sight again! This turn of events is unfortunate. We must accelerate our plans. Begin landing your troops. NUTE GUNRAY: My lord, is that… legal? DARTH SIDIOUS: I will make it legal. NUTE GUNRAY: And the Jedi? DARTH SIDIOUS: The Chancellor should never have brought them into this. Kill them immediately!
On the Trade Federation ship, after Queen Amidala has disappeared from Naboo, Palpatine originally planned that she would be forced to sign the treaty, and then brings in Maul to deal with this. DARTH SIDIOUS: And Queen Amidala, has she signed the treaty? NUTE GUNRAY: She has disappeared, My Lord. One Naboo cruiser got pat the blockade. DARTH SIDIOUS: I want that treaty signed. NUTE GUNRAY: My Lord, it's impossible to locate the ship. It's out of our range. DARTH SIDIOUS: Not for a Sith. This is my apprentice. Darth Maul. He will find your lost ship.
On Naboo, after Padme allies with the Gungans: NUTE GUNRAY: We've sent out patrols. We've already located their starship in the swamp....It won't be long, My Lord. DARTH SIDIOUS: This is an unexpected move for her. It's too aggressive. Lord Maul, be mindful. MAUL: Yes, my Master. DARTH SIDIOUS: Be patient... Let them make the first move.
Palpatine's plans aren't static, they adapt and change with the events that happen, just as the other characters react to new information and head in new directions for it, so too does Palpatine and I think it's interesting to note that part of what makes him such a good villain is that he has an outline for what he wants to do, he sets up the dominoes of what he needs, but even when they don't fall precisely into place, he generally gets what he wants. He originally intended that Padme would sign the treaty, the Jedi wouldn't be involved, and that would lead to a vote of No Confidence to oust Valorum, using the sympathy for Naboo as a way to boost himself into the position. But he didn't really need her to sign it and still managed to use the sympathy for Naboo to get elected, it ultimately didn't matter what happened to the planet, so long as it was in danger while he needed it to be, he could use it either way. Nor, honestly, do I think he ever planned for Anakin Skywalker's existence, he had no idea they would find such a boy on Tatooine or how useful he was going to be, that was another way he changed his plans once the opportunity arose. Or a lot of his plots in TCW--he has Cad Bane steal the list of Force-sensitive children and kidnap them, bringing them to Mustafar for some sort of program to use them probably not too unlike how he uses the Inquisitors later. That plan is foiled by the Jedi, the babies are returned to their families, and Sidious' plans fall through, but that doesn't really change the outcome. tl:dr: I don't think Palpatine gets enough credit as a villain whose plans shift and change along with the new events that happen, just as much as the heroes' plans shift and change when new things happen. Yeah, he's a great villain because he creates an impossible trap for people, but also because the thing about him is that he's incredibly charming and charismatic and he knows an opportunity when he sees one, that any one given plan might fall through, but it's not necessary to his overall plot.
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Astarion teaching Tav embroidery/sewing. Preferably with him dragging them onto his lap for a close-up demonstration.
Why do I make everything so long? Do I have a problem? There is always so much introspective nonsense idk man. Anyway adorable idea actualized below!
Also mentions of sex but this is totally sfw. I went with the timeline of when your sleeping together but he hasn't quite admitted his feelings to himself, as a side!
~
Astarion had no idea how he became your camp's designated seamstress. How was it possible that a team of eight adults were all incapable of knowing the basics of such a fundamental skill?
Then again, Karlach seemed to be perfectly fine with wearing her clothes to tatters. Wyll was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Lae'zel, for some gods forsaken reason, was only capable of fixing up heavy armor. Gale seemed to prefer eating magical clothing items versus being able to salvage them and the rest were mediocre at best.
The look of confusion on Shadowheart's, who was the second most skilled by far, face when Astarion tried to explain a ladder stitch was enough for him to give up entirely. It was quicker to fix the tears then to explain simple concepts to simpletons.
Brats. All of you. With one who was significantly more brazen than the rest when it came to using Astarion as their personal tailor.
Tav, the lovely thorn in his side. Who could handle wielding a glaive with startingly accuracy, but somehow managed to consistently stab themselves every time they picked up a sewing needle. It was impressive, how useless someone who was otherwise extremely competent could be.
Impressive as it was frustrating. Because somehow you managed to destroy your clothes more often than anyone else. Always bashfully handing him over torn trousers and ripped shirts every other night. Anyone else he would have told to fuck off by now. Even the rest of the camp knew better than to test their luck with anything more than once a fortnight. But you lacked the very basic level of self-control.
It was his own fault for giving you special treatment in the first place. But sleeping together did warrant a few extra benefits. He got your protection and you got to experience the pleasure of being with him. Simple. Or it would have been if you didn't insist on making things complicated.
Because Astarion was starting to feel things. Things that he hadn't anticipated. Because your company was... oddly pleasant. You were an interesting little thing, he had to give you that. Well-read and talkative, but not boringly so. No, Astarion sometimes found himself losing track of time when he was with you. A simple question could easily turn into a two-hour conversation about the silliest things. It was... nice. New. And oh so different from what he was used to.
Cazador didn't even allow him or his brethren to speak in his home, let alone speak to each other unless it was strictly necessary. But here he was free to do whatever he pleased. And he was finding that included being near you, despite how differently you both saw the world.
He couldn't quite blame you for your delusional optimistic views. As a Tymora worshipper you were basically doomed from the start to believe inane concepts like good fortune, luck, and gods, the good that could be found in "anyone".
You were as sweet as you were aggravating and Astarion truly, honestly, had no idea how your insane trusting nature hadn't managed to get you killed yet. But then again he... kind of liked that about you. He liked that you trusted him. It made his life more convienet and... it was nice to be seen as a person worth confiding in. Instead of the blood-sucking monster he really was.
He... liked that. He liked you. A fact that he didn't enjoy thinking about. He didn't really know what to do with it, and the implications of where his feelings could lead were starting to become unsettling. So he pushed it out of his mind. It was an easy thing to do when doom was always looming in the background. He had plenty of things to think about that didn't include his fondness for you.
Like the inner-rage you caused when you managed to somehow rip the same shirt twice in one day.
"That's it," Astarion announced when you bashfully asked for his help yet again, "Come here. I'm teaching you how to sew."
"But you always get mad when you try," You whined. But despite the hesitancy you still obediently sat next to him as he got out the sewing kit, "Do you promise not to snap this time?"
"That depends," Astarion said with a roll of the eyes, "Do you intend on not maiming yourself with a sewing needle?"
Astarion smirked at the way that made a blush crawl up your neck, "That was one time!"
"Actually darling it was closer to seven," Astarion corrected as he snatched the shirt from your hands, "Now pay attention. Look at where the tear starts. Notice how it's on the seam?"
You nodded along as Astarion explained the basics to you. He could tell that you were trying your damndest to pay attention, but when it was your turn to hold the needle your hands couldn't stop shaking. Astarion frowned as he tried to watch you work, his view obfuscated by the angle and the flow of your hair.
Well that wouldn't do.
Before he could think better of it he was hauling you into his lap, ignoring your surprised squeak as he situated you just right.
That was better. At least now he could see what you were doing. It was a sloppy stich, sloppy enough for him to undo it before putting the needle back in your hand.
"Now do it again," Astarion ordered, "Let me see what your doing wrong."
Astarion watched as you tried again, frowning when he realized your shaking was even worse than before. In fact, you seemed more nervous than ever, your face red as you kept your eyes down.
It made Astarion torn between watching your hands and looking at your face. You really were adorable, getting all worked up from simply being in his lap, all while trying to stay dutifully undistracted. He could almost hear your heart racing, obvious through the tension coursing through you.
Silly little thing, acting all shy like he hadn't already literally been inside of you. But at least you were doing better, your stitching straighter than Astarion had ever seen it. Maybe he'd have to make the lap-sitting mandatory from now on, for the good of your learning.
"See," Astarion said softly, his breath tickling your ear as he leaned in closer, "You're perfectly capable of learning this."
"So it looks good?" You asked, taking a chance to glance at him. Astarion hadn't realized just how close the two of you really were. He had never... seen you like this before. So closely. Even when you slept together, he had been a bit distracted by other parts of your body. He never noticed just how many light freckles were hiding across the bridge of your nose, how your eyes looked almost golden in candlelight. You smelled nice too, sweet. Like you had been rolling around in a field of lilies. Considering your personality, Astarion had to wonder if that's exactly what you did.
It would take almost nothing to press your lips together. Barely a turn on the head.
"Astarion, are you listening?"
The sound of his voice snapped him out of his revelry. He straightened, clearing his throat as he looked over your work again, embarrassed in a way that he couldn't quite describe.
Maybe you weren't the only one being affected after all.
"It looks better," Astarion said honestly, "But still needs work. You'll almost certainly be needing more lessons."
Preferably like this. Astarion wasn't quite ready to let you go yet, not when you felt so pleasantly warm in his lap. But luckily enough for him, you didn't seem quite so keen to leave.
Astarion tightened his hold on you laughing at the way it made you gasp, "But that's enough for today. I think you've earned a reward. Don't you?"
"I-yes?" You said back, your eyes flitting from Astarion's mouth and back, "Please?"
You really were too precious. How could he possibly say no to that?
Astarion grinned as he tilted your chin up, finally pressing your lips together. It was an odd feeling, kissing someone when he couldn't stop smiling, but he supposed you just had that effect on him.
Maybe being the camp seamstress wasn't so bad after all.
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sunderwight · 2 months
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Okay, concept:
Luo Binghe grew up very poor prior to arriving to QJP. And when he first got to QJP, he was ostracized and neglected. So there are probably a lot of phrases, terms, and ideas that he didn't know were things until SY arrived and started actually teaching him. Right? So the bulk of what he did learn, he learned directly from Shen Yuan's own slightly messy attempts to fake ancient scholarly credentials.
Plus, QJP is supposed to be the peak of scholars and well-read, fancy intellectuals, and YQY probably also doesn't know shit about most of that stuff (having also been a former illiterate street child) and of course is incredibly predisposed to take Shen Qingqiu's side on virtually anything. Especially something frivolous or linked to their shared past, such as someone, say Qi Qingqi, accusing Shen Qingqiu of making up a literary reference or "gibberish" word. If something Shen Qingqiu says is something no one else seems to know, that just proves he's more worldly and well-read than the rest of his peers. Also, Shang Qinghua will probably know it, and despite his many (many) character flaws, Shang Qinghua reads a lot too. There's really very little to convince a former street child turned Demon Emperor whose former education began and ended with Shen Qingqiu specifically and Meng Mo (wildly out-of-touch with human culture anyway) to suspect that some of the difficult-to-source references his master makes really have no worldly source (in this world).
So Luo Binghe, in his quest to become as knowledgeable of all things about his shizun and keep up with him as well as possible, and maybe also put down some arguments he's overheard once and for all, eventually gets annoyed because CLEARLY there is a wealth of cultural knowledge contemporary to Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua that didn't survive to his own generation. His efforts at hunting down all the sources being referenced and origins of certain philosophical ideas or terminology keep coming up empty in certain departments. He's been over the entire QJP library with a fine-tooth comb, but QJP focuses on things pertaining to cultivation, history, and knowledge. Obviously, there are gaps. The archives are unlikely to keep pop cultural references and lowbrow literature, and Luo Binghe begins to suspect (from what tastes his master seems to share with his shishu) that that is that actual source he's missing.
The trashy yellow books and romance literature of their generation! Bawdy poems and lewd artworks so on! Heck, that's probably even where the shared "code" (bad English) comes into play -- disciples are always trying to sneak forbidden material past their teachers and smuggle naughty books into the dormitories. Knowing Shizun and Shang Qinghua, Luo Binghe honestly wouldn't be surprised if the two of them were racketeering that shit in their own disciple days. Shang Qinghua acquiring materials, Shen Qingqiu acquiring buyers, both of them making their extra spending money off of secretly supplying Cang Qiong's population with contraband fiction and art.
Also, that would explain why both Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua get flustered and refuse to elaborate if someone asks them what this or that strange turn of phrase refers to. Shen Qingqiu has a very thin face for actually discussing erotica, and Shang Qinghua doesn't like being caught doing illegal shit.
Luo Binghe desperately needs access to trash lit that's older than he is. However, most of that stuff is not printed to last, and turning it up is like trying to find old Spirk zines without the internet.
Shang Qinghua, the obvious go-to source, also seems to not really have anything that old anymore (intimidating him is laughably easy, if he had anything he would have coughed it up by the second or third time Luo Binghe asked and frowned at the same time), and if Shen Qingqiu did have anything he wouldn't want to be questioned about it. Asking too much might even get it destroyed in an act of excessive embarrassment.
Which means there is just one other person Luo Binghe knows who might be able to lead him to some sources. One other person he is absolutely, 100% certain was extensively reading trashy literature around the same time that Shizun was a young man. Someone who would know where to go to even begin looking for it.
Luo Binghe is going to have to ask Tianlang Jun for help with something.
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ask-the-rag-dolly · 23 days
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okay unhinged essay about ragatha probably #1 idk i don't think this is all of my thoughts but here's what i could actually put down
i think the most surprising thing for me Personally is getting a lot of my interpretations of ragatha correct ? like . the thing that almost destroyed my motivation for this blog is the fear that my unhinged overanalyzation of her mannerisms in the pilot were Wrong - i actually thought about canceling everything when i was off from canon - but now ... yeah i'm not doing that
i guess it's just that we had so little of her in the first episode that i thought i was Manifesting her issues but Nope she really is this much of a Loser
first of all ! i suspected that she has low self-esteem but Goodness Gracious !! i didn't expect it to be Actually almost non-existent ?? like i thought i was Exaggerating for this blog but no , no person with a normal amount of self-esteem would Warp an incident so much in their head that they somehow believe something going wrong is Their Fault .
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like she's so focused on pomni the entire episode because she Genuinely believes that the fiasco in the first day was her fault ( even though IT WASN'T , but she's really that used to quickly blaming herself ) and wants to make it up to her . but of course pomni is still adjusting and is Overwhelmed by everything ( which is understandable ) so she's not really in the mood for ragatha's bullshit
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but with how ragatha reacts and what she subsequently tells kinger - she read those more as ' i do not like you ' than ' i am too fatigued to care about anything right now ' which is such a Large leap , but considering she was the one who Apologized to pomni for giving her a stressful first day ( which was COMPLETELY out of her control , ) it makes sense that she assumes that pomni has something against her - which was not helped by how none of ragatha's attempts of starting a friendship were reciprocated
i do understand why she would Think it's her fault - as pomni's a newcomer and More Stress is the last thing she needs , especially in her first day - but ' oh she doesn't like me ' is still Such a hasty conclusion that someone who already ... Doesn't Like Themself would jump to .
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of course i can't not talk about the potential history between her and kinger . through their dialogue you can tell that ragatha's one of those people that took a batshit long time to truly adjust to the circus - which has a lot of interesting implications . with how she seems to understand the process of finding an exit in episode 1 , it explains a lot . my girl was so Not well when she entered the circus .
honestly it's just nice seeing that ragatha at least has Some support despite her being the one who holds everything together - it makes the ending impactful in my opinion ; they do really care for each other and will be saddened if one of them is gone .
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also of course she asked if everyone's alright despite having a cleaver to the head ...
something that also has been nagging me for a long time is how much she always gets the short end of the stick . like , literally every time she's on screen , she Has To Get Harmed in some way . i would brush this off as slapstick when her official pin doesn't have her HAVING A KNIFE TO THE CHEST ???
Maybe it's just slapstick . maybe with her having parallels to kaufmo considering how he's said to be a goofy toxic positivity type guy like ragatha and is the one that has abstracted thus far is just a coincidence and doesn't speak levels to what might become inevitable as the series goes on ,
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rene-darling · 8 days
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TAKING- advantage of the strongest
He's been having a hard time lately, he's lost Suguru, his one and only, of course- you on the other hand are overjoyed at that fact.
It's annoying, after all, you've done for him, he calls out his name instead of yours, it's time you taught him a permanent lesson on manners.
P.s I TOLD YOU ITS NEVER GOJOVERRR RAHHH- [credits- __3aem on insta]
Also, follow my insta r3xni3 n text me, let's talk, im bored!!
...gojo Satoru...
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Seeing Gojo with his head in his hands sitting at the edge of the school stairs wasn't a new sight for you, in fact for the past week you've been seeing him sitting there.
Crying, sobbing, or simply sitting in misery. He's always thinking of that damned suguru. Honestly, it was hard to get him to show you any affection with suguru around, and now that he's gone it's gotten even harder!
It's not that you hate suguru, you just love gojo, and seeing your gojo in pain annoys you, but. It also makes for the perfect opportunity to shove yourself in his life, when he's most vulnerable and make him rely on you
"what up 'toru?" Sitting down next to him gently touching his shoulder, you can't be too forward now. "..mhm, it's nothing." Hmm, well you knew it wouldn't be that easy, of course he wouldn't open up to you just yet! So you'll just keep trying- "come on satoru, this isn't like you, you're the strongest-"
"Can you leave? I'm not in the mood y/n." Running his hands through his hair he groaned as he hid his face. You got up without a word, it's fine, if he pushes you away you have many more ways to push back harder.
The continuing weeks during classes you would always make small talk, distracting his mind from geto. Then you'd buy him sweets saying that there was some buy one get one free offer, which is why you had brought one over for him there wasn't
You occupied him on the missions he'd usually go to alone, keeping him from feeling lonely. No matter how hard they were and no matter how much strain they put your body through you'd reassure him, you're fine!
He'd notice how you'd push yourself for him, it made him- feel. Feel something other than the constant sorrow due to Geto's absence.
He started reciprocating your 'kindness'. he would let you rest your head on his lap after a stressful mission and sometimes..he'd rests his own head on yours.
Shoving yourself in his life to replace the sorrows he felt didn't only include platonic relations. Every once in a while, whenever the feelings of loss came back too harshly, all he wanted was to forget. Get lost in pleasure, in anything, just- just please make him forget.
His tears which usually stained his face due to sorrow, now stained his face due to mind-numbing pleasure, his body was yours for the destroying, just please, please make him forget. Even if just for tonight!
" 'toru, use your words now, tell me what you want, hm?" You moved your hand ever so slowly, it hurt. "Just- just please, touch me, ruin me, do whatever you want. I'm yours, yours all yours- Suguru please.
Hah- fuck. He's so lucky he's Gojo Satoru. your gojo Satoru. You can feel yourself growing numb as you let out an unhinged chuckle "Sure Satoru." You try pronouncing his name with that same softness, to replicate that tone of pure love and kindness geto had, but alas, you never truly get it right.
Still, it's close enough for him. as he whines, bucking into your hand. You have half the mind to leave him like this, writhing on the bed, but you never do. This isn't the first time, and certainly isn't the last. You're sure every single fucking time you've seen satoru he's called out his name,
But, as you gaze down at him and as he stares up at you with his pretty blue eyes which spill with tears by the second, you can't help it. Perhaps you pity him, or perhaps you simply don't care if he's using you as a means to an end, since in return, you get to be the one fucking him dumb. And not Suguru, 'cause he's dead. But that's beside the point.
Rocking his world as his vision blanks, eyes rolling back as sweat covers him. You don't mind the pain of when he bites into your shoulder, you don't mind the fact that Suguru's name slips out of him more than your (can be fake) cock
But, for some reason you just can't take it today. Something takes over you, you swear, as you grab harshly onto his neck, gasps leave his throat as he huffs for air. "Wh- Ah pl- EAse- hah."
"say my name." "Wha- AHh-" pressing your hand down harder you're sure it'll leave marks. "Y/n. Fucking say it you dumb bitch." Tears fall down from his cheeks and onto your hand but it only seems to egg you on "Ah- mhm y-y/n please?" As you let go gits of his coughs fill the air as his pink chest rises up and down for air
Suddenly he gasps once more as you push against his prostate, you're far too pleased with him saying your name to let him rest, even to catch his breath.
His cries ring in your ear as his hands scratch onto your skin, leaving deep bloody marks in their wake he stares up at you with his tear stained eyes, mumbling only your name for the rest of the night.
You hope he's learned his lesson, and if not. You wouldn't mind teaching him another one.
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bountydroid · 27 days
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Darlin' pt 8
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pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5 / pt 6 / pt 7 (SMUT) / pt 9
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Romance)
Description: Cooper and Reader enjoy SuperDuperMart.
TW: Mentions of bad parenting and emotional abuse, mentions of sex but no smut.
The next couple of days felt like pure bliss. We spent our time exploring SuperDuperMart, finding endless supplies. I even finally was able to change my clothes into something cleaner. It was surprising that the place was not more ransacked than it was. Maybe it was the location that protected it. Eventually, I had Cooper move the bodies away from the couch and into a different room. During the act, I was too distracted to mind, but the idea of having sex next to them bothered me. The flickering lights and the decrepit couch started to feel like home, someplace we could stay forever. The large supply of Jet would have him set for a long time so he no longer needed to worry about making money to survive. 
More often than not, we ended the days wrapped up in each other, naked on the couch. Bit by bit, Cooper started to open up to me more. Telling me bits and pieces about his ex-wife and daughter. He would never admit it but it hurt him to talk about it so he didn't say much, but was grateful for anything he was willing to give me. I told him more about my home. My father and brothers who kept me locked away in the house, constantly cooking and cleaning. The romance books that I hid under my bed so my father wouldn't take them away. How desperately I wanted to escape but was too afraid to for so long.
"Someday, I'm going to pay that man a visit." He hissed; the venom clear in his voice. 
While I was grateful that he wanted to avenge me, I was happy with the idea of never going back there again. Not even for revenge. They didn't deserve to know I was alive and happy. Not that they would care.
On this particular day, we ended the night like we always did, naked on the couch with me sprawled out on top of him, a light blanket covering the bottom half of my body. It was becoming my happy place, and he seemed to enjoy it just as much. 
"We've become domesticated," I mumbled into his chest, causing him to laugh.
"I will NEVER be domesticated, darlin'. I'm just takin' a break is all." He responded; determination clear in his voice. 
Honestly? I didn't mind the idea of leaving this place eventually. I would follow that man anywhere. "I'm excited for our next adventure then."
-
I woke up groggy and confused as I heard footsteps coming closer. Cooper groaned as he pulled the blanket farther up my body, shielding me from wandering eyes. 
"Why hello there boys. Now ya'll here for the ice cream social, I'm afraid I got some bad news." He said, converting back into his old, cocky self.
One of the men crouched in front of the couch, looking between us, a look of disgust clear on his face. I squeaked from the embarrassment as I clutched at the blanket.
"That is absolutely disgusting," He murmured at the sight of us before looking over at the robot that had been stuttering for days. "Take it's fusion core." He nodded to the other men. 
I was practically buzzing from the fear coursing through my body. Cooper could feel it, so he snaked his arm around me protectively.
"Now," The man started again. "Destroying a legitimate business? That's illegal around these parts." He said, a cocky tone in his voice. 
"Says who?" Cooper asked, anger clear in his voice. 
"The government." The man responds menacingly before one of the others hit Cooper in the head with the butt of his gun, knocking him out. We were so focused on the man in front of us that we didn't notice the one sneaking around the back of the couch.
"Cooper!" I squealed as one of the men grabbed my arm and wrenched me off of him causing the blanket to fall to the ground. "Well looky here." The man slurred as I tried my best to cover myself. "How did a ghoul get so lucky? You some sorta pervert?" 
"Let go of me!" I cried out, looking back to Cooper. He started to stir, slowly waking up from the temporary loss of consciousness. In response, the men pointed their guns at him. "No, please!" I pleaded. 
"Don't worry miss we ain't gonna shoot him." He explained, "As long as he doesn't fight, that is. Now get dressed." He said throwing me to the ground on top of our clothes pile. With shaky hands I did as I was told, grateful that they didn't have other plans for me. 
By the time I was dressed Cooper's eyes were open. He was seething, baring his teeth to the man in front of him. The man responded by grabbing my arm and spinning me around, so my back was against his chest as he cocked a gun against my forehead. "Your turn ghoul. Get dressed."
A retort died on the tip of Cooper's tongue as he saw the tears running down my face. He let out an angry grunt before quickly throwing his clothes back on. Before he could say a word, the man who hit him took a rope and tied it around his wrists. "You are coming with us." The man growled.
The man holding me didn't bother tying me up, instead opting to keep a tight hold on my bicep. It didn't take long to start hurting. I was definitely going to have a bruise. His companion walked next to Cooper, gun in hand ready to shoot him at a moment's notice. The walk was quiet, tension was thick in the air. We didn't know where they were taking us. "At least they seem to need us alive for now." I thought to myself, glancing back at Cooper.
"Eyes forward." The man hissed at me, shaking me slightly.
I did as I was told, not wanting to push my luck. After a couple of hours of walking, we found ourselves heading inside a neglected building. The inside was decorated like it was out of one of the movies Cooper had me watch at SuperDuperMart. The man holding Cooper pushed him through some swinging doors. 
"Well, shit." A man says as soon as Cooper enters the room.
Why, Sorrel Booker." He chuckled.
Hope swelled in my chest at the idea that they knew each other. That maybe we'd be lucky enough that he would let us go. Sorrel Booker was a bigger man, he was sitting comfortably at a table with a large piece of meat in front of him. We were obviously interrupting his meal. The two men threw us down into chairs at the table. 
"I heard it was a ghoul that fucked up that SuperDuperMart." Booker mused, "Nobody told me it was THE ghoul." He said before picking up his knife. "You know who you boys brought in?" He asked the two men behind us. "This sumbitch right here used to be the best bounty hunter to ever shoot a man in the ass. Kids these days don't know their goddamn history."
I looked down into my lap and fiddled with my hands. This man was so hard to read. I couldn't tell if he was friends with Cooper or not. When I looked back up Booker's eyes were on me.
"Who's your friend?" He asked Cooper.
Before Cooper could respond, one of the men piped up, "We found these two naked. Can ya believe it?" He said, a tone of revulsion in his voice. "Disgusting."
"Her name is Y/n." Cooper said, throwing a dirty look at the man behind him, "And she didn't do shit.”
"She's with ya. How innocent can she be?" Booker asked.
There was a moment of silence before Cooper asked, "Say you got a needle and thread?"
One of the men behind us scoffed, "Sorry, we don't do a lot of knittin' around here."
"It's called sewing," Cooper responded, unamused. "I think I got some in my bag."
Booker nodded toward one of his men who immediately complied with the order, pulling out a rag. I shot him a curious glance as the man unfolded the rag on the table, everyone giving Cooper a disgusted look as his finger rolled out. Cooper held up his wrists expectantly, silently asking to be unbound.
"Now come on now, Sorrel, we are old friends, ain't we?" Cooper said as he stared him down.
Booker took a moment before relenting, cutting Cooper loose. "Look at you. 200 years." My eyes opened wide in surprise, during our talks Cooper never mentioned he was 200 years old. "I don't know what keeps you goin'. Maybe you like the feelin' of that good old Californian sunshine on your wrinkly ass face. Or maybe this one isn't the first girl you've found willin' to fuck a ghoul." He finished.
Cooper glanced over at me as he started sewing his finger back on his hand before saying, "Nah, she's one of a kind."
"How sweet." The man behind me said sarcastically. 
"Or maybe," Booker continued. "You're still lookin' for her."
I stiffened at his statement. Was there someone else?
"Well Sorrel, I can confidently cross one reason off that list for ya. I sure as hell ain't still alive so I can have unintelligent conversations with dipshits like yourself." Cooper responded. Booker had obviously hit a nerve. 
One of the men immediately responded by hitting Cooper in the head again with his gun. "Watch your mouth. That's the president of the government you're talkin' to." He sneered.
Cooper slowly leaned back into his chair. He looked calm, but I could see the anger still simmering inside of him. "Ah. You a president now?" He asked Sorrel.
"Don't see why not," Sorrel responded confidently, taking another bite of his food.
"Well, you might want to hire a publicist because this is the first I'm hearin' about this outfit. Now, what I am hearin' is a whole lot of chatter about some woman. Name of Moldaver." Cooper replied.
"They call her the flame mother. Now that bitch is dangerous." Sorrel said with a serious look on his face. 
"Well, when it comes to leadership these days, dangerous is what they call a prerequisite," Cooper said smirking.
"Somebody's gotta step up and bring some order around here. You know why these boys brought you in?" Booker asked, puffing out his chest. 
"Cause I fucked up a poor, defenseless, gang-affiliated organ dealership?" Cooper mumbled, a look of disbelief on his face.
"Yup," Sorrel said with conviction. "Now I've always liked you-"
"Well, I've always liked you," Cooper interrupted with a smile on his face.
"Well, ain't that sweet. But that SuperDuperMart you two gutted was under our protection. So, if I wanted to let you go scot-free, folks might lose faith about what we are trying to do here. And then what?" Booker explained.
"Anarchy in the streets," Cooper answered.
"Exactly, so you got anything to say in your defense?" Sorrel asked.
"Guilty as charged." The ghoul responded confidently. I gave him a look of disbelief as he happily wiggled his finger. 
"Just like that?" Sorrel asked, surprised. 
"Just. Like. That." He smiled. "Now if you need any more evidence, I can tell you about this town I just shot up, Filly." 
"Cooper." I hissed angrily. Finally breaking my silence. 
He smiled at me, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Oh, I must have killed nine or ten people." He continued, "She didn't do shit." He repeated. 
"My daddy lives in Filly." One of the men states, concern in his voice. 
"Well, not no more he don't. Unless he's a coward." Cooper said.
"Don't take the bait, son." Sorrel interrupted as the man cocked his gun at the ghoul.
"Oh, I ain't fishin'. I'm just trying to game this out. Now, in my experience, the apple tends not to fall too far from the tree. Is that true in your case?" Cooper asked.
"My daddy ain't no coward." The man was fuming as his gun stayed pointed at Cooper. 
"Well, then I guess the only question is..." Cooper smirked, "Are you?"
"Sherrif Rex. Take Sherrif Troy's gun away." Sorrel said, clearly unamused at the situation.
"Very presidential of ya." Cooper mused.
"Take him out back and feed him to the hogs," Booker said, done with Cooper's antics.
Sherrif Rex pulled Cooper to his feet, but before I could protest, Cooper headbutted Sherrif Troy before stealing Rex's gun. The next thing I knew both men were dead on the ground as he shot them repeatedly. 
"Goddamn it." Booker sighed.
"You really should teach your men how to treat a lady," Cooper explained. "They weren't very nice, were they darlin'?"
I gave him a small smile, "No Coop, they weren't."
He hummed as he stalked across the room. "I got one question for ya ol' buddy," Cooper said, turning his attention back to Sorrel. "Why... do you have this picture on your wall?" He asked, pulling down one of the wanted posters.
"That's Moldaver." Sorrel responded, a look of confusion on his face, "Why?"
Cooper's face betrayed him as shock washed over his face before he regained his composure. "It's just not how I remember her is all," Cooper mumbled. 
"Yea? Well, how do you remember her?" Sorrel asked.
Cooper stared silently at the poster for a while, lost in thought while Sorrel and I exchanged awkward glances. 
"Cooper?" I asked him, worry settling into my stomach. This seemed to catch his attention as he brought his eyes up to me. 
"Let's go, sugar." He said as he folded the paper before stuffing it in his bag. He reached his hand out to me, silently asking me to take it. 
I quickly grabbed his hand, eager to get out of this place. "What about him?" I ask.
"The president?" He asked, mocking Sorrel, "Leave him."
I held on to Cooper's hand tightly as he confidently strolled out of the building. Who was this woman? And what was she to Cooper?
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Text
"Hello." A dull thwack sound reverberated across the rooftop, leaving the boy who snuck up on Red Robin clutching his head. The boy, a meta if the large animal ears and tail were anything to go by, shook off the pain and pouted up at him, "What was that for?!"
The vigilante was unrepentant, holding his bo staff in a ready position, "You snuck up behind a vigilante at night. In Gotham."
"Okay," the meta conceded, still pouting. "You have a point there. Robin threw ninja stars at me when I tried to approach Batman."
That got Tims attention, "You tried to approach Batman? Was there something you needed?"
The kid suddenly got serious, "My mom went missing. I haven't been able to contact her for almost two weeks now."
Red pulled his arm closer to his face before he began typing on his wrist computer, "Can you tell me her name and date of birth?"
"Um." The other teen fidgetted with his tail a bit, "Okay, so...she's kinda Cheetah."
"...come again?"
"She's Cheetah. The...the supervillian."
Red Robin stared at him, and honestly who could blame him? The bats hadn't even known Cheetah had a son. "So why are you in Gotham? Why not ask Wonder Woman for help? Cheetahs one of her rogues not ours."
The teen shook his head, "She went to meet someone in Gotham before she disappeared. She seemed really agitated before she left, almost scared. I've never seen her like that before." He paused, giving the vigilante time to type before continuing, "I didn't go Wonder Woman since I figured I would wind up needing to talk to a bat anyway since its your turf and all." He said, waving a hand as if gesturing to the city around them.
"I wasn't aware Cheetah had a kid."
The meta grimaced, "she didn't until a year ago."
Red gave him a look, as if urging him to go on.
The meta chuffed, sounding a lot like whatever big cat he was supposed to be, "I'll only tell you my tragic backstory if you promise to help me find my mom."
"I'll find your mom." The bird said without an ounce of hesitation. Tim was a little offended. Did this guy think he was going to leave his mom in danger just because she was a criminal? Appearently so, seeing as the teen looked so relieved at his words.
"Okay, so my bio parents were evil mad scientists. Always a bad start, anyway they were obsessed with the occult and one day they suddenly took me and my sister to Brazil to hunt for some artifact of another. That alone was strange but weirder still was the fact my creepy godfather was paying for it all. He usually only does something like that when he's plotting "
"Plotting?" The detective interjected, "you make it sound like he does that often."
"Yeah. Hes a supervillian." The meta said casually, as if he didn't just leave Tim reeling, but the kid wasn't done yet, "He's had a massive crush on my bio mom since collage and never let it go no matter how many times she rejected him. She even married my dad, his best friend, and this dude just kept simping for 20 years." The teen rolled his eyes, "Hes convinced himself that if he murders my bio dad then my bio mom will fall in love with him and me and jazz will be "his"." He said that last part with fingerqoutes and a disgusted expression.
Tim filed that away for later, "Can I have his name, if nothing else?"
The teen seemed reluctant for a moment, "You're the worlds greatest detectives. You'll find out even if i try to hide it. Besides, I'd probably be better off if you and the Justice League know everything anyway."
Tim was...surprised by that. Most people usually weren't this open with them.
"His name is Vlad Masters, he also goes by Plasmius when he's dressed like a wannabe vampire. He's a ghost who's repossessed his corpse. My parents are Jack and Maddie Fenton, who are obsessed with ghosts and have convinced themselves that all ghosts are evil and must be destroyed, regardless of how much evidence points to them being wrong."
"And your name?"
The meta grinned at him, showing off four very sharp fangs, reminiscent of the large cat he takes after, "You can call me Jaguar. We were exploring a bit when I broke off from my family and got jumped by one of them. Suddenly I was struck by a claw and turned into furry bait. Fluffy stopped trying to make me his lunch and just stared at me before walking away, which was wierd. Then my parents found me, accused me of being a ghost, because thats naturally what someone would assume when thier son sprouts cat ears," he said while rolling his eyes.
"Naturally." Red joked, which had the benefit of making Jaguar smile.
"So my parents chased me through the jungle, shooting all the while, then suddenly a portal opened up in front of me. I'm not stupid, I know there was no way this wasn't a trap. I mean, a portal opening up right after that bizarre series of events and its the same shade of glowing green as the wierd death go my parents are obsessed with? There's no way they weren't related somhow, but I was desperate and jumped through anyway."
"I landed in another jungle, or the same one in a different location, I'm not sure. I tried hunting and foraging but wasn't very successful at either." Danny still remembered the throbbed in his head when he had headbutt that tree after missing his pounce on that pig he had been stalking. "Thats when Cheetah found me. She took me in and taught me to hunt and fight."
-----
Possible plot twists:
1. Danny isnt Phantom in this au
2. Danny is Phantom in this au but is trying to leave that life behind
3. My favorite. Danny has the ability to manipulate and control animals into doing his bidding with the effect of jaguars and other big cats being the most prevalent and he just doesn't realize it.
One of Cheetahs friends/allies realizes cheetah has changed and suspected something and convinced her to leave for a while to see if her care for this kid faded after a while away from his presence. It works and Danny loses another parental figure/possibly attacked by them too.
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lovelybee666 · 4 months
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Can we get some part 2 of yandere! Catnap x reader?
Author's note: I was just progressing on a sequel
PART 2!
YANDERE CATNAP
(part 1)
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CATNAP
• You don't know how long you've been locked up, you stopped counting from the third week
• Catnap daily was going to watch you in complete silence while you begged him to untie you, Now it's was somekind of routine for Catnap.
• Every day you got hungrier and hungrier, Catnap never fed you or anything, he just watched you for hours.
• You were desperate, you needed to escape, you needed to eat, you needed to get out.
• You've spent so much time locked up that you don't even remember your friends' faces.
• You tried to find any way to get out but you couldn't, first because you were tied too well and if you manage to escape you don't even want to know what Catnap would do.
• You were currently biting your handcuffs trying to remove them but there was a noise from above that didn't let you concentrate
• You could hear people running, children screaming or that's what you assumed because it didn't occur to you why someone would scream like that
• It was strange to you, you never heard anything like this, They weren't playing, definitely not.
• They spent a long time shouting and running until from one moment to the next you only heard silence.
• You got worried because you didn't understand what was happening so you tried to free yourself from the handcuffs, You continued with your thing until you heard someone walking but it was different.
• You doubted it was Catnap or that was until you saw your cell.
• It was Catnap but at the same time it wasn't, he was on all fours and looked bigger (imagine Catnap's model but without the bones being visible)
• He looked at you for a few seconds and then he looked at the door of your cell, he looked at you again and slowly opened the door of your cell.
• You walked away from him but at one point you collided with the wall preventing you from moving back, he got closer to your face to the point where you could feel Catnap's breathing and He grabbed your head with one of his front paws as he dragged you somewhere, You didn't say anything, he scared you before, now just seeing his eyes left you still as a stick.
• He took you outside, everything looked so different.
• There were many bodies of workers, children and even toys, everything was full of blood and destroyed.
• You didn't say anything, you just looked in shock.
• Catnap looked at you and let you go making you fall to the ground, he looked at you for another few seconds and turned around looking for something or someone.
• you stayed a little when he let you fall to the ground and you continued looking at the orphanage where there were once many happy and smiling children.
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They thought Catnap was going to kiss them (please tell me no) WELL NO☺️! I honestly didn't like this sequel
BTW I HAVE TO SAY A FEW THINGS
1. With the screaming and shit I meant "joy time" (I forgot if it was joy time or something else)
2. Catnap continues to stalk you, he just has no reason to hide from you anymore.
3. In the part where Catnap grabs your head, it's like when cat moms grab their kids, only that here he grabs you with his hand and grabs your head.
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headspace-hotel · 1 year
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I hope I can express this properly and sensitively, but I think oftentimes people need to have Categories and Identities and to be healthily exploratory and playful and elastic about them, else they can get vulnerable to some negative things, sometimes really awful things
I wish I could remember where I read it, but there was something that wrote about whiteness in America as an abyss.
Whiteness is something that sheltered white Americans' ancestors, and at the same time devoured them. They used to have a distinct medley of heritages: Irish, German, Scottish, Italian. "Whiteness" ate it up, the languages, the cultures. There were privileges if you destroyed it, and punishments if you held onto anything that was "Other." In a white supremacist society, white people wanted to be "white" first before any other possible identity or connection they could have.
Yay! You're white. You're on top. You win...what? Turns out the prize for "winning" is just that you get to perpetrate the violence of the game instead of being on the receiving end of it.
And that's the nasty twist—there is no prize. The deeply embedded vice of "Southern pride" is not just what the Confederate flag stands for, but also why they've got to cling so hard to that symbol of traitors and losers: they need to be on top of something so bad that even a pile of shit will do. My ancestors were ultimately dirt poor, loads of them ending up in prison or breaking their bodies down doing hard labor, but they were white. Their reward, and their pride, was being stepped on by the violence of poverty only, instead of also by the violence of white supremacy.
"White pride" is all about hate because white supremacy didn't give these folks anything to be proud of. It stripped away the culture and heritage their ancestors had in favor of "whiteness." All those jokes about how white people have no culture, well, it's true isn't it? This shit is how we ended up a primarily monolingual nation. And what looks like happened is that white Americans wound up just...scavenging most of their culture from those they oppressed. Food, music, all of that stuff. Our white ancestors didn't GIVE us anything that was their own to start with.
And this is something that really strikes me about the white supremacist and fascist movements nowadays: the starvation and hollowness behind them. These folks are empty inside. They were given nothing by white supremacy except a very vague sense that they deserve something, and they see people of all different cultures celebrating and flourishing in their unique heritages and identities, and they feel like...they've been cheated.
Equality is so threatening when you're in this situation because it feels like you've got less than everyone else at the end of the day. Not just because of comparison to previous privileges, but because your whole identity was "person that gets to step on everybody else" and your whole inheritance was "shit stolen from everybody else" and in a world where all is set right, you have no identity and nothing. You are nothing.
Anyway I was looking just now at a blog that seemed really white-supremacist-leaning and it was 99% about like, Norse and Proto-Indo-European paganism and "traditionalism" and that's what got me thinking about this again.
This person had apparently done DNA tests on themselves or something, and were really fixated on figuring out their Norse and Germanic ancestors and separating out their genetic and racial identity at a level of precision that seems really pointless that far back in time. And honestly all the paganism stuff seemed like totally arbitrary speculation as well.
And how to become satisfied as a person like this? I am just as much Germanic or Norse as they are, but I don't believe that distant ancestors determine who you are to such an extent that I have some sort of innate cultural tie to Vikings or Visigoths or what have you. I know what percentage Celtic or Anglo Saxon or Norse I am—zero. I learned about those things in books the exact same way I learned about all the cultures and past kingdoms of the world that I presumably don't have ancestors from.
I feel like the experience of being a baby ally and obsessing about apologizing for being white is the same kind of thing in another direction, or another outcome of the same process. Some people seem to get really twisted up for a time over how to stop being guilty about being white.
It's part of the same thing as this guy who is trying to genetically identify his ancestors from like 3,000 years ago. It's the emptiness and meaninglessness of "white" identity apart from white supremacy.
I talk about deradicalization sometimes and I've had the notion a few times that fascism appeals to people who are hollow and starving in terms of identity, and if it wasn't for the sense of emptiness and hunger, they would be less easily radicalized. But it's also a little bit awkward to talk about the deeply unsatisfying nature of white supremacy, because...well, that is pretty low on the list of things bad about white supremacy.
I think this concept is worth talking about in general, though: People want to feel like they come from or are part of something meaningful. They are drawn toward Identities and Categories and Belonging to groups. This is something I think is commonly true about humans, I think it is normal and not a bad thing, and I think we could stand to be a little more upfront about its reality.
I think this means that wanting, and seeking, a sense of cultural identity as a white person (particularly an American) needs to have some kind of non-horrible outlet for it. Because right now, it's nothing but a way to get radicalized, and the dominant other option people take (becoming the Guilty White Person) is liked by no one and helps nothing.
And maybe it doesn't need to have anything to do with race or culture or your ancestors or any of these things that can lead a person down such terrible paths. Maybe more of us should be furries!
As just another thing to consider, I'm reading the book Ecology of a Cracker Childhood and the author of the book uses the word "cracker" not like, with the gravity of reclaiming a "slur" or something like that, but seemingly because that is just the word she most strongly identifies with, the word that best articulates who "her people" are. This feels very solid and levelheaded to me, something that comes from someone with a good sense of themselves.
Personally I've thought a long time that more people should reclaim "redneck." Not in the sense of reclaiming a slur exactly, but in the sense of putting it in neutral usage among the folks it always referred to, instead of letting it increasingly be associated with any Southerner (regardless of working class background) that is the sort to wave a Confederate flag around. The very idea of gatekeeping "redneck" away from racists is just absolutely hilarious to me, I won't lie.
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