#cause in that case like. fuck man satan was right. you suck

[henriiiii-1001]

( John Sparks and George Banks making Six feel like he's sane again ) *invading church* G : DUDE! YOU GOTTA HELP, JOHN GOT STUCK IN THE FENCE! S : What? G : JOHN GOT STUCK IN THE FENCE! S : *turns to Luci* L : *puts two fingers up and disappears* S : .... Fine, I'll help

-le epic timeskip-

Six, seeing John's situation : Oh okay J : You two gonna help me or not?! S : How tf did you get your neck stuck in the fence anyway? J : It was a dare by my mother S : ....

-Six manages to get John's neck out of the fence but now they're gonna make the rest of his night unbearable-

J : So what's your name btw? Six, thinking of a fake name in 2 seconds : Uh.. Sullivan! G : Like that story of the big ass man who got stuck in the island with the miniature tiny people? S : Is- Is that supposed to be an insult? J : Definitely a compliment, usually he says much worse than just that S : Huh Oh and btw, the man's name was Gulliver, not Sullivan G : .... I'm hopeless

-12 seconds later-

J : Oh wait, we forgot to ask, what's your age? S : Why? G : We need to know if you're the grandson or the grandpa S : OK I'm.... 29! J : Booo that number sucks! G : You're headed to retirement already lmao S : :(

-21 seconds to later- S : Sooo, are you best friends or just regular friends? Cause you seem pretty close John, turning around to G : Ten seconds before midnight- Hi George, let's be friends *George has chosen violence* J : OW! WTF DUDE?! Help, he's trying to shove his fist in my nose! G : I'm sorry! J : What are you sorry about?! G : That I'm almost 19 and your birthday was only 2 months ago! J : You hate me because my birthday is on November?! G : Yes! Because I hate every month that don't include vacations! S : Oh good lord- Guys, stop that! Stop that! -le epic timeskip-

S : Okay, now that you two have ceased your crazy fight, you apologize! :D J : ... G : ... I don't know S : Are you afraid of being vulnerable? G : I only have one fear S : And that is...? G : That the police will find out what I did in 1988 S : Uhh.... J : He's a wanted criminal in 40 states

-le epic timeskip part 2-

G : Jo is immune to alternates because his house is a labyrinth. Just his living room has 1 million boxes everywhere- J : I'm moving! G : The alternates just walk into his house and are like "what the fuck is this place?" J : I'm moving, man! It's not my fault! S : Why Mandela of all counties? J : So me and my wife can perform tax evasion and not have a police constantly hunting us down S : ... G : Once he finally gets a woman to like him lol Six, mentally : (This some big brain moment)

-1 hour later-

Six : John, I'm getting really worried cause all you bought at the convenience store was like, two bags full of energy drinks and a weeks worth of potato chips J : It's my diet G : In case you couldn't tell, he's addicted to unhealthy shit J : To me every person above 20 is an asshole, so I'm on my slow but steady trip of dying of a heart attack before my 20th birthday S : That's- That's your goal in life? J : Yep! Maybe- Maybe when I go down to hell, Satan will name me "stupid of the year" S : Yeah, I'll call him and ask him to do that J : Will I get a bronze star for 'stupid of the year'? G : You're gonna get the fucking golden star J : That's my fucking dream S : He's gonna put a golden star sticker right in the middle of your forehead that says "stoopid of the year" J : Yay! :D

(silliness taking over me be like)

no idea who these guys are but this is cute! not sure if six would help a bunch of teenagers out of the blue (esp if they're trying to break into st gabriel's. if that's where they are) , but one can dream

#station interviews #mandela catalogue #gabriel peacing tf out is so in character tho ngl DFVGBHN #and six making fake names that start w “s” makes sense. thats how i came up w my irl name :D

[eevee-emblem-arts]

This au writing fucking sucks and is self indulgent *Posts it anyway*

Note: He/She pronouns for Satan, and He/They pronouns for Ex

It wasn't incredibly hard to notice when something was wrong with the dimensions. You know, Tetris blocks aren't suddenly supposed to be falling out of a Puyo Puyo sky. And if something was wrong with the dimensions, Satan would begrudgingly have to do something about it, for the sake of himself (and for the sake of others, he supposed.)

If the dimensions were merging, he knew who would be responsible. Ex, the Keeper of Dimensions. He was angry at him, that's for certain. After he and Ecolo built the portal he should have no reason to be doing this again. Perhaps she was justified in going up and checking on them so often after all… (Because after all, she only did it to make sure they were doing their duty properly, and nothing more…) He continually tried to bite back the worrying thought that something bad had happened to him. That wouldn't be the case…Right?

She teleported up to the Edge of Spacetime, and looked around for him. A slight problem presented itself though, they weren't there at all. The dimensional gate was wide open, and there was no Keeper in sight to fix it. Satan growled to himself. Frustrating. Where would they be if not here…?

Seeing his family, perhaps? Maybe he's bailed on being keeper entirely to be with his family… Infuriating. Though she pitied his situation, he couldn't just suddenly stop being the keeper like that. Thus, in a flash of light she teleported to the Tetris world.

~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't hard to track the SS Tetra. He flew along the outside of the starship, peering into the glass windows on the off chance he'd see Ex inside of it, and hoped he wouldn't be seen in return. Nothing. Not even the usual members. Were they all asleep? She didn't want to check inside to find him…

He heard the sound of shoes hitting the side of a rock, and his ears twitched. She turned around, seeing a man sitting down on a floating chunk of rock in space, their legs swinging back and forth, occasionally tapping the side of it. Ex. Satan growled, flapping over to him. She would've lashed out at them, but she immediately noticed something was… Off. He looked darker; his clothing was off colored, his eyes were of a shade of blue, and he had a dark cloud decorating his hair. They had a sinister grin on their face, and upon seeing Satan, they gave a curt wave.

"Ex? The hell do you think you’re doing? The dimensions are at risk of merging, why are you sitting around here?” He growled, flicking his tail in annoyance.

“Hm? Oh, I’m just planning on my attack. Nothing too important~” He chirped. Satan did not enjoy his voice at the moment; it was beyond off, like nails on a chalkboard.

“Attack..? Ex, that's your family…?” She looked a bit shocked at his response.

Ex stuck out his tongue- Satan couldn't help but be a bit jarred at how uncharacteristic it was for them- and shrugged. “Not like, kill them. I just want to bring a bit of excitement to their lives. I know how boring it gets being cooped up in one place all the time. I just wanted to bring some fun~”

Satan perched on the rock next to Ex, and stared down into their face. Looking into their eyes she could see a faint swirl reflecting on it. Oh, heavens, he wasn't in control of himself.

“You're in a pitiable situation, I understand that. But Ex, you can't just abandon your duty. The dimensions will merge. And you're supposed to make sure that doesn't happen.” She growled, charging a bit of dark energy in his hands. If he couldn't break him out of it through words, he would do it by brute force.

“Meh. That's so boring though. Level with me Satan, wouldn't you want to cause a bit of chaos? Have a bit of fun? Can you really deny the amount of fun the first merge was?" Ex stood up to face Satan, looking snide.

"And can you deny the endless property damage and countless lives lost that will follow your irresponsibility?" And growled back, unamused.

Ex shrugged. "It's not irresponsibility; I'm doing this on purpose. I won't go back to my duty, Satan.”

She attempted to smack him with the dark energy in her hands, with him flinching and barely moving out of the way.

"If you won't go back on your own, then I'll simply have to force you to go back." He said darkly, setting up a Tetris board.

They grinned. "Very well. If you want a fight, you'll get one. Let's have some fun, shall we?" They set up their own Tetris board.

"Behold, Tetris!"

"Tetris~"

Satan could hear the distinct sound of Tetris blocks clicking against each other, his ears twitching. Heavens, it's been a while since he's played this game. Ex immediately launched a Hard Drop at Satan, to which she took flight again to dodge it, throwing a Disaster right back at them. Ex was hit, but didn't react much, seeming to be thinking to themselves…

"You know, Satan, I wouldn't have the confidence to say this in any other circumstance, but you're quite the attractive man." He tilted his head innocently, trying to clear some garbage off of his Tetris board.

"Wh-What-??" Satan sputtered, caught off guard. He didn't like how their words went straight to his cheeks. He screwed himself back before shaking his head. "Stop that. Flattery will not be getting you out of this." He growled back.

"You think it's only flattery? You don't think I could like a man like you?” He sneered, getting a Tetris and sending a strong X shaped attack towards Satan, to which she hissed in pain upon being hit.

"Please, I don't believe that for a second! I know how you act with people you like. Your distraction won't do a thing." He said this, but it truly was getting to him. The idea that he could really like her like that- that it wasn't just whoever was pulling his strings making him say- made her heart hurt in a way she didn't want to unpack at the moment.

"I'm a bit smarter than to just flirt carelessly. Why would I shoot my shot with a man who only likes young women? Why risk losing my friendship with a man I'm close to? With a man who could stop seeing me at any moment…" They seemed solemn for a moment, before perking back up again, their eyes swirling. Satan bit his lip; did Ex really think of him like that?

“Ex… Is that really what you think?” Satan mindlessly clicked Tetris blocks on his board, his eyes concentrated on Ex.

They thought for a moment, before their eyes went wild; giving out a toothy grin. “You want to know that so, so bad, don't you?” He snickered darkly, setting up a Tetris, and started dropping comets down upon Satan from above.

Satan flinched before he flapped between falling comet to falling comet, some grazing dangerously close to his bat-like wings. He's messing with me. Regardless of how Ex actually feels, he's just using it to catch me off guard. And if I'm not focused, I'll end up like him. She set up her blocks for another powerful dark attack, sending a Devastation straight towards Ex. They dodged, still seeming fairly overconfident about the battle. Satan would make sure to change that soon…

Ex shot a Hyper Hard Drop straight at Satan, to which he dodged it and sent back a Calamity in return. It knocked Ex clean off of the rock, but they quickly found footing on another one nearby. He set off a Tetris and aimed his fingers at the flying demon, charging up a brutal attack at his fingertips, and… stopping. Satan took a long glance at their face, and just for a moment the swirl was gone from their eyes, before squeezing their eyes shut and grabbing their forehead. He's fighting it… Satan thought to himself. He's fighting himself. Ex…

Taking advantage of this weakness, Satan quickly swooped down after them, lining up for a Tetris. He hard dropped into the Tetris, shooting a Cataclysm right into Ex's chest. They grunted in pain, distracted from their board, and because of that it ended up overflowing in garbage. They had lost. They looked… Genuinely angry for a moment, before perking back up into another fake grin.

"Thank you, that was fun.” He cheeped, his voice hollow. “Boo. I was hoping to scramble your brain just a bit more. Oh well. Guess I'll just go elsewhere~ maybe I'll go help the other one with taking over Primp…" He pondered.

"...There's another? The one who hypnotized you? Heading to Primp?" Satan swiped his board away, his eyes wide.

"Oh yeah. We decided to split the work between us, I go to this world and he goes to Puyo one. But since you're here, I guess I'll go help him out for now. See ya~" With that he vanished into light, teleporting away. Satan desperately reached out to grab him, but instead only got a handful of circular sparkles caught on his claws.

She hissed, shaking her head. She hadn't made much progress at all, injured and feeling fairly flustered due to their words. It couldn't be helped. She'd need to regroup with Ecolo and make a new plan, before things further got out of hand.

"Ex…" He started to mumble to himself. "When I get you free, we have a hell of a lot to talk about." And with that, she teleported away, and down to the Puyo world.

#writing #satanex #Chaos Squares Au #forgive me for writing indulgent chaos ex satanex im doing my best #definitely not going to main tags ♡

[infernwetrust]

Luke Langdon [Michael Langdon x Fem Reader] Pt 2.

PART 1

PART 3

Summary: The one where you and Michael have a child together, but like most relationships, there are parenting differences.

Warnings: SMUT, swearing, fluff c:

WC: 2.7k

A/N: Part 2 of this 3 part series. Just a little longer! Thank you for reading! -Juno

When you had gone to check up on Michael, things still a mess in the living room, he was still outside on the deck. He had taken a seat and now appeared to be on a phone call. You tucked little Luke away for the night, repeatedly kissing his forehead and apologizing that he had to see you and his father like this. All you wanted was for him to remain as pure as possible. Yes. You did understand that the time will come where he will struggle to keep his emotions together, just like Michael did, but you didn't know how soon and until then, things were fine the way they were.

Out of fear, you had convinced Michael that the two of you could never hire a nanny until the both of you learned how Luke behaved. When you two needed a night off or wanted to go out, you left Luke with your parents. And man did that boy love his grandparents. His eyes widened every time he heard their voices. It was almost terrifying. Whenever they would come over just for a visit, Luke made sure that he was in the room. Grandma's arms were his favorite place to be when he wasn't be smothered by you or Michael. He'd occasionally give grandpa's long thick beard a tug and in return he'd "snatch" his nose and it made him a giggling mess every time. There was only one incident with Luke that was a cause for concern. Sometimes his skin would be absolutely burning, but when his temperature was checked, he was fine. You and Michael had come to learn that in Luke's case his temperature went based off his emotions.

When he was sad, he ran cold. When he was happy, his temperature was slightly normal, but he was a little warmer. When he was overexcited, he ran hot. And when he was extremely upset, he was burning.

Your parents knew exactly who and what Michael was and while they weren't a fan favorite of the whole satanic thing, they loved Michael regardless because he was always so respectful. He made sure things were taken care of for not only the little family he created, but for your family as well. For that, they were forever grateful. They even tried to get on board with it, but Michael reassured them that they didn't need conform for him. When it wasn't grandma or grandpa, it was Ms. Mead. She let you know that you can call her mama, though. She understood that she came off as a little intimidating the first mi of times you and Michael started talking, but she grew to love you anyways and Luke absolutely adored her. She too wanted to tell Luke about how great he was going to be, but Michael had warned her not to, especially when you were around.

You took a deep breath as you approached the back deck door. You made no efforts to be silent because he knew you were coming anyways. He could smell you, hear you, and feel you. Not wanting to get himself riled up again before you came out to talk to him, he avoided listening to your thoughts. You stepped out, standing a few feet away behind him as you listened to him talk on the yeah.

"Yeah, everything, especially that. That one was her favorite." he said, scratching the back of his head. "I appreciate you Johnny, I really do. You always come through for me every time I fuck some shit up." Johnny was like Michael's second in command, but only for house matters. If anything broke in the house and needed to be repaired or replaced, Johnny was there, 24/7. Demons don't need to sleep anyways, right? But surprisingly enough, a lot of them did, or forced themselves to. It's what helped them feel human every now and then. Michael didn't care though. He was going to do everything human like or not.

"So 10AM sharp tomorrow?" Michael confirmed. "I'll have everything cleaned up so the boys have no issue coming in and out of the house. Thanks again."

"Michael.." you called out to him, your voice barely audible, but he heard you anyways. He looked over his shoulder at you before turning around.

"Hmmm?" he questioned, his blue eyes piercing into your body.

"I just wanted to come out here and try talking again. Well first I would like to apologize." You could feel yourself beginning to choke on your words, recalling how he broke down completely a couple hours ago. Out of shame and respect for your husband, you dropped to your knees right where you were, not wanting to get any closer to him, wanting to give him his space. "Michael, I'm so sorry. I wasn't trying to degrade you or make you feel any less of yourself for your past struggles. Why would I do that? Look how strong they've made you."

"Don't do that." he said, waving his hand, immediately making you rise up from your feet. "Don't you ever get on your knees like that in front of me again. Do you understand?"

"I'm just trying to-,"

"Answer my question, Y/N. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Michael."

"As my Queen, you are to never get on your knees like that unless it's for.. you know. And as much as I do like it, you don't have to suck up to me. We're almost equals. You just don't have the powers, but you were always so stubborn. I could just give them to you, but I know you don't want them."

"And I'm glad that you haven't."

"Come here." You did as you were told, not stopping until you were just inches away from him. You felt so small under his gaze despite his reassuring words. He ran his fingers down your cheek.

"I'm sorry."

"No Y/N. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I don't listen to you. I'm trying so hard to give Luke the father that I never had and sometimes I try too hard and forget that you're just as much his parent as I am. I don't mean to undermine you in any sort of way. I just don't want him to be lost."

"And I know you will make sure that he is never lost. I know you'll ensure of his greatness because Michael, you are nothing but greatness. Other people, they look at you as some cold-hearted man with daddy issues." He laughed as you said that and you were happy that you were able to bring him some joy, considering the earlier events. "But all I see is perfection. We're all a little bit misunderstood and I don't blame you for anything. I married you, right? So I knew what I was signing up for and didn't care. Michael, I love you. Do you understand me?" He nodded his head, but that wasn't enough for you.

"No, Michael." you said. "Like you told me. Answer me. I want to hear your voice."

"Yes. I understand you, Y/N. And I love you too. So much... I loved you ever since I stumbled across you. You reading that book, drinking that coffee that was too light for my satisfaction."

"I don't see how you drink black coffee anyways. It's so strong."

"Dark roast is the best roast."

"Yeah well I'm surprised your breath doesn't stink."

"I brush my teeth everyday, twice a day, sometimes three. Mrs. Langdon, I'm not liking your tone regarding our coffee differences."

"Mrs. Langdon..." you said, mocking him, sticking your tongue out at him. In one swift motion, he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your arms made their way around the back of neck, hands entangled in his messy and slightly frizzled out hair. His hands firmly gripped your ass, shifting his stance a little bit so the two of you would be more comfortable. He wasted no time, colliding his lips with yours in a kiss that screamed nothing but love, lust, and apologies. Using his senses, he walked backwards until he met the deck sofa, plopping down on it, your lips never separating as he kept you close to him.

He was surprised when you pushed him back into his seat, but he didn't complain. He wasn't feeling too dominant tonight. He just wanted to make love to you. He wanted you to feel good. He was going to show you just how sorry he was. He kept his eyes on you as he took off his rose gold watch, his erection growing as he watched you rid yourself of the PJ top you had put on. He tossed his watch to the side, continuing to watch as your hands reached for his button up. His hands slowly ran up and down your thighs as you unbuttoned it, exposing his lean chest and torso. You ran your hands down his chest, causing him to release a heavy sigh.

You grabbed his hands from your thighs, putting them on your breast which he gave a gentle squeeze before gliding his thumbs over your nipples. He knew that drove you crazy. You gripped onto the sides of his now opened shirt, your breathing become heavier and shallower each time his thumbs darted back and forth. Without realizing it, you were grinding against his length, making his favorite pair of jeans, a mess, but he didn't care about the growing wet spot. And when he started grinding back, you threw yourself forward, resting your forehead against his as you two shared heated moans. Sitting up a little, he took his shirt all the way off, throwing it on the floor, leaning back once again.

He slid you off of him, making you whine with frustration. The both of you, looked at the wet spot that covered the entirety of his jeans, making it look like he had wet himself. He chuckled, running his tongue over his top lip before looking at you.

"These were my favorite jeans." he hummed. "And you ruined them with that pretty little pussy of yours." You blushed, hanging your head low, slightly ashamed that he was this much power over you. Before Michael, no guy ever came this close to having you soaking wet just from a kiss and a slow grind. He snapped you out of your thoughts, grabbing you by your legs and pulling at them so you'd lay down. He stood up, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans, letting them drop to his ankles before he stepped out of them. Your eyes stayed on the massive bulge that was between his legs. His underwear was soaked from you too, so he went ahead and got rid of those as well.

You stared in awe at his size, the heat between your legs only rising in temperature. You almost touched yourself at the sight, when he stopped you.

"No." he said, practically drooling at the sight of your naked body. "Let me." He laid between your legs, blowing softly on your already swollen clit, through the material of your panties. "Won't be needing these anymore, will we?" He didn't even bother to pull them off, knowing he could always just get you another pair. He ripped them off, wanting access to your bare core, immediately. His lips brushed against you, causing you to jump slightly. He smirked, looking up at you.  

"Michael... please?" you whispered. "Please please please please." And that is all it took for him to dive into you, his tongue doing laps around your folds. He sucked on your clit, flicking his tongue across it at a moderate pace. You rested your leg on his back and your hands found their way in his hair again, slightly tugging at it, causing him to let out a moan against you. The vibrations rippled throughout your body, sending you into absolutely bliss and before you could even come down from that small high, two of his fingers were inside of you. You gasped at the feeling, starting to shake because he never did stop licking at your bud. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, slow at first, and when you bucked your hips up, he took that as a sign you wanted more. His fingers began to move rapidly in and out of you.

"Mmmm fuck!" you shouted. "Right there, Michael. Don't stop, please. I'm so close." He added a third finger, wanting to stretch you out as much as possible for him. "You feel so fucking good." He was a pre-cum mess as he ate you out. He didn't know if he was going to attempt to clean this couch or just replace it all together. You caught him and yourself off guard when you lost all control, squirting on him. You let out ear bleeding screams, which Michael liked. Your body shook violently as he continued having a go at you, wanting to see and feel you ride out your orgasm completely. And when he sat up, before he could even compliment you on how beautiful you were, you grabbed him by his throat, pulling his face close to yours. He groaned as the sudden aggression that had awakened in you.

"Fuck me." you said. "Don't say anything else, don't do anything else, but fuck me. Now." He lips moved, but you tightened the gripped on his throat, serious about what you said. He climbed on top of you, lining himself up with your entrance and sliding into with ease. You closed your eyes, throwing your head back and digging your nails into his hips. The both of you were so sweaty from your interaction and how warm it was outside for the night. Your bodies clung together and he moved himself in and out of you, not taking his eyes off you as he watched all the pretty little faces you were making.

"Y/N..." he breathed out. "You look so fucking beautiful, taking all of me." You clenched around him at the sound of his raspy voice. You could tell that he wasn't going to be able to hang on for much longer which was unusual for the two of you. If he really wanted to, Michael could go for hours, but your tonight, with the two of you being so vulnerable, he was weak under your touch. He sped up, looking down where he was fucking you. His shaft was covered from your cream and juices. You were so wet for him and he was loving every second of it. You moaned his name repeatedly every time he hit your spot. And let's be honest, it was every time. He was always on beat, until he was close, but his uneven thrusts felt just as great.

You pulled him down closer you so that he lay completely against you as he fucked you senseless. He nuzzled his face in your neck, giving it soft kisses, occasional giving it a soft bite. You breathed heavily in his ear, biting, sucking, and licking on it, which drove him insane.

"You keep that up and I'll cum for you right now." he said, barely holding on. He was getting sloppier and sloppier by the minute, struggling to even hold himself up, just wanting to melt completely into your arms.

"Cum for me then." you whispered in his ear. "Cum with me." And that's when he lost it, you not trailing to far behind. He moaned loudly in your ear, you in his, as you both let go, erasing the pain from earlier today.

Both of you laid there for a moment, still coming down, too tired to really speak. When he did decide to move, he pulled out slowly, aware of how sensitive you would be. He moved his now very damp hair out of his face, searching through his jean pockets for the hair tie he had earlier. He put his hair in a lazy bun before happily sighing and looking at you.

"I'm going to go and take the shower I've been needed since I got home." he began. "Care to join me?" When you made eye contact with him to give an answer, you could see that this was going to be no type of innocent shower. And you were okay with that.

Taglist: @jimmason @angelicmichael @whatcodysaid

#cody fern #michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #ahs #ahs apocalypse #american horror story #american horror #cody fern imagine

[turtle-paced]

GoT Re-Watch: Fine-Toothed Comb Edition

This post is also available on my wordpress.

8.06 – The Iron Throne

Or, A Close-Up of Tyrion Lannister.

(1:59) Right, now that the best part of the episode is over (RIP clockwork credits), who’s ready for lots of shots of people walking around the rubble? Figurative and literal rubble? Shot of Tyrion starts here! Close up on Peter Dinklage, hooooold that close up, keep the background out of focus so we’ve only got the suggestion of the devastation he’s reacting to in the background…

(2:32) After holding that shot for thirty fucking seconds, we get to see what it is Tyrion’s reacting to. Dead kid in the rubble, in this case. Let’s just keep following Tyrion’s walking tour of the ruins of King’s Landing in complete silence, Jon and Davos trailing behind him.

(3:41) Still following people through the rubble. Skeletons visible, charred child’s toy because we didn’t get the point yet…

(3:57) We have dialogue! Whooo! And then we go right back to Tyrion walking through King’s Landing.

(4:58) You know, it’s remarkable how Lannister soldiers got a lot more attractive once the narrative allowed ordinary Lannister soldiers to be the victims of main characters. Seriously, go back and compare this lot to, say, any of the ones Arya came across in the season two-four era.

(5:45) Now we see a little bit of a conflict between the Northern forces and the Unsullied over the appropriate handling of the prisoners in the aftermath. Hang on to the thought for just a few minutes more.

(6:28) Speaking of character derailment, Grey Worm is also just here for the war crimes. That tiny little bit at the start of last episode where Dany hands over Missandei’s only possession to Grey Worm and he chucks it into the fire is the last we saw of either of their internal state of mind prior to both of them getting on the civilian/prisoner massacre train. After multiple seasons of these characters holding strongly to some sense of ideals and ethics (even if they’re not ethics you agree with!), through a lot of messed up bullshit, they just chuck all those ethics out here in the last two episodes.

(6:33) Tyrion continues walking through ruins.

(7:36) Cut to Tyrion walking through the ruined ground level of the Red Keep to Tyrion walking through the ruined secret passages of the Red Keep. Yes, that took more than a minute. Does anyone get the feeling there’s not actually much plot to this plot? Anyone feeling like we’re largely substituting shots of Peter Dinklage emoting over the ruins of King’s Landing for writing how Tyrion Lannister would react to the burning of King’s Landing?

The man can act. But nobody can act enough to make up for this sucking black hole of plot vacuity. And it blunts the impact of what’s coming up.

(9:19) Tyrion finds Jaime’s golden hand in the rubble of the mostly-uncollapsed tunnel. Shortly thereafter, he uncovers both Jaime and Cersei. A few metres to one side and they would have been fine.

Here is where we need to hold on Tyrion as he breaks down over the discovery of his siblings’ dead bodies. Here is where those tight close ups are going to have most impact. Unfortunately, of the eight minutes of episode, we’ve already spent about five of them with only Tyrion and Tyrion’s emotions to engage us as he walked through King’s Landing.

(11:00) Speaking of people walking through rubble, it’s Arya! The main difference between her in this episode and her in last episode is that she slowed her pace down from a run. Where’d the white horse she was riding go? Who knows. Off with the symbolism, we’ve got more symbolism to jam in here and we are not going to be as subtle as a white horse.

(11:33) Jon walks through Dany’s forces. First the Dothraki, all on their horses, arakhs bared despite the conflict ending. Then through the Unsullied, lined up in perfect rows with perfect armour including helmets, despite having been in a fight a couple hours ago.

Have you spotted what’s missing here? Because I have.

(13:05) See, now that’s symbolism! As Dany approaches her armies (wearing all black, natch), we get a shot of Drogon behind her so that it looks like his wings are emerging from Dany’s back! I haven’t seen symbolism this delightfully subtle since Man of Steel. Her Satanic Majesty indeed.

(13:33) We’re getting long pans over Dany’s forces, and this is where I am going to say it.

This is racist as fuck. It’s out of some fucking propaganda booklet somewhere.

We all understood (at least I hope we all understood) that when Cersei was talking about “hordes of Dothraki savages” etc etc in season seven, that was an in-universe racist dogwhistle. She was appealing to the xenophobia and racism of Westerosi lords to rally support to her own cause. And here in season eight, we see that when Cersei was talking about savage hordes etc etc, she was actually correct. Completely, 100% correct. The in-universe racism was validated by the plot. We did not get “each side is bad, because that’s war in a feudal setting” (like we did when it was mostly white people in conflict with other white people). We got soft-looking Lannister soldiers and white civilians killed in the streets, and now we’re panning over the armies that did it, almost entirely PoC. The Dothraki cheering is the only background noise, so you can be sure that it’s meant to sound foreign and alarming. The Unsullied are damn well stormtroopers, dehumanised in their discipline and in their uniformity. The shots are denying them faces.

Meanwhile, the white Northerners (who absolutely participated in the slaughter last episode) are nowhere to be fucking seen. Now that we’re showing the eeeeeeeevil that is Dany’s cause fully unveiled, with the speeches in a “foreign language”, the black outfits, the black and red banners, the whole shebang, the white people other than Dany aren’t fully participating. We’re getting white people as victims, or mysteriously missing from shots of the bad guys, and the people of colour as the bad guys, their otherness emphasised through direction and mise en scene.

Even with the plot points the showrunners wanted (which are bad enough on their own), they did not have to do this like this. Depicting the Unsullied as battle-worn human beings as opposed to Stormtrooper Evil Robots was an option. Including the Northern forces in the shots of the new bad guys was an option. Reminding people that the Lannister army is not a war-crime-free zone was an option. Casting the King’s Landing crowds as more racially diverse was an option. Not introducing and contextualising this conflict with naked xenophobia and racism was an option.

They did not do any of this. There are so many ways they could have done something that did not vindicate the in-universe racists. Instead we’ve got this fucking lazy, fucking racist shortcut of “these guys are the bad guys and you can tell because they’re not white and European-coded.”

(13:54) The other thing to note here is that Dany is now perfectly put together. She’s brushed her hair. She’s wearing clean clothing. She’s perfectly serene. We’re no longer getting the way-too-close ups to indicate a precarious emotional state. In other words, the show has dropped the indications that Dany is insane even more abruptly than it introduced them. Hold the thought.

(14:57) The Unsullied are not allowed emotional expression anymore, because now they are evil robots who do war crimes. This goes for Gray Worm (addressed conspicuously with the translation of his name, rather than the immediately-audible reminder that ‘Gray Worm’ was a slave name) who gives half a smile, and the Unsullied at large, who tap their spear butts on the ground in lieu of cheering.

(15:33) Ah, the other sign that Dany is an irredeemable monster. She wants to liberate slaves. For fuck’s sake, the woman firebombed a major city without any sort of justification last episode, that’s the evil part. Not the bit where she wants everyone to live in freedom. And yet we’re getting the ominous music and the serious reaction shots from reasonable white men over this as well.

(17:20) Tyrion freed Jaime? Yeah, Dany, wait until you hear what Tyrion promised regarding Highgarden, it’s a bit of a plot hole.

(17:47) Tyrion tenders his resignation, effective immediately.

(18:29) He is also arrested.

(19:19) Arya, last seen at the back of the crowd, does a bit of mild teleporting to arrive next to Jon as he watches Dany walk away. Just so you know why Arya’s there and what she’s doing.

(20:09) Strong contender for the stupidest line of the series, right here. I know that I didn’t think I’d hear one to match the infamous “bad pussy” line. Arya, about Dany, after the latter burned down a city on her giant fire-breathing dragon, in full daylight and in front of three full armies: “I know a killer when I see one.”

(20:40) Oh. Joy. This scene. I have not been looking forward to recapping this scene. If that last line was stupid, this scene brings stupid and offensive to the table.

(21:10) Ah yes, Tyrion betrayed Varys. That pure, innocent angel Varys, who used children in his plots to murder monarchs. As we all know, Varys’ motives were noble, and so this excuses the fact that he risked a child’s life in an assassination attempt.

(21:28) Oh yeah! Remember when Jon was resurrected? That affected a lot of things, didn’t it? A major player in the metaphysical and political arenas, that’s Jon Snow!

(22:37) “She liberated the people of Slaver’s Bay. She liberated the people of King’s Landing. And she’ll go on liberating until the people of the world are free…and she rules them all.”

Okay, there’s a bit to unpack here, because the show is smushing some concepts together.

First up is the implied equation of Dany’s actions in Slaver’s Bay to her actions in King’s Landing. I mean, forgive me if I’m wrong, but I don’t recall Dany burning Meereen to the ground. When last we saw the Meereenese theatre, it was left with the implication that she’d left a reasonably stable outfit in charge. With the implication that the slaving powers in the region had been broken. (How plausible the depiction was is another matter.) Dany just fucking set fire to King’s Landing. These two things…really aren’t that much alike. Show!Dany liberated Slaver’s Bay. She murdered King’s Landing. We can make a pretty clear distinction between her actions in each respective place. They should not be lumped in the same category.

Nor do her actions in Slaver’s Bay logically lead to her actions in King’s Landing. We’ll get into the thinking behind this part of the line when the showrunners make this connection even more explicit and offensive.

Second, just chucking in that “world domination” thing at the end. Again we’re getting this core idea that because Dany is willing to use violence to achieve idealistic ends, she’s necessarily a power-hungry tyrant in her own right. To say nothing of the leap between “Dany wants to rule the Seven Kingdoms” to “Dany wants to take over the world.” Especially given the alleged basis for Dany’s desire for the Iron Throne, i.e. she considers it her birthright. Since she believes she’s entitled to one piece of pie (debateable), she will inevitably attempt to take the entire pie.

(23:02) “It was vanity to think that I could guide her. Our queen’s nature is fire and blood.” Oh, gag me with a spoon. What happened to the word “counsel” or “advise”? Because the use of the word “guide” is a lot more teacher-student dynamic, with Tyrion in the position of power. Dany’s a grown goddamn woman, a queen for years before Tyrion came along, who hired him to advise, not to teach. Hell yeah it’s vanity!

But more than that, it’s so fucking condescending. Oh, tragic little Daenerys, who needed a man’s guidance, but succumbed to her essential nature of uncontrolled violence. This doesn’t even frame Dany’s decision to burn a fucking city as her decision. News flash: there is no dark side of the force making a puppet out of show!Dany, show!Dany made her evil decisions independently. For shitty, poorly-explained, poorly-thought-out, poorly written reasons, yes, but there we go.

(23:07) Jon addresses the bullshit “we are definitely our parents” argument.

(23:23) Which Tyrion responds to by saying “dude, did you see how many people she killed?” Which doesn’t actually address the fucking issue. He’s still arguing that Dany = Mad Queen = totally a Targ thing. Remarkably, it’s like the characters in-universe can’t think of a convincing reason for this plot development either.

Speaking of, how many people did Cersei kill? It’s like she committed some sort of atrocity, perhaps at the end of season six, that by rights should have turned all of Westeros against her to the point that everyone should have been overjoyed to see an alternative ruler show up.

(23:45) But what the conversation as a whole drives towards is this central point: Dany is evil. Not crazy. Evil. Which makes the last two episodes, with their hysterical woman bullshit, even more purely gratuitous. And also emphasises just how abrupt that fucking heel turn was. Episode three, Dany, saving humanity! Episode five, Dany, burning down a whole city because she doesn’t think John Smith of 3 Main Street, King’s Landing, is woke enough!

(24:24) “What does it matter what I’d do?” Jon asks. Hey, a good question. What have Jon’s decisions mattered thus far this season?

(24:31) And here it is, maybe the lowest moment in the series, as far as I’m concerned, and it’s got some stiff competition.

“When she murdered the slavers of Astapor, I’m sure no one but the slavers complained. After all, they were evil men. When she crucified hundreds of Meereenese nobles, who could argue? They were evil men. The Dothraki khals she burned alive? They would have done worse to her. Everywhere she goes, evil men die, and we cheer her for it. And she grows more powerful and more sure that she is good and right.”

Where to even start? The echoes of Niemoller’s famous First they came…? Sure! Why not. First Daenerys came for the slavers, and the only people who spoke out were other slavers. Then Daenerys came for other slavers, and nobody spoke out, because they were slavers. Then Daenerys came for a third group of slavers who incidentally threatened to rape her, and nobody spoke out, because they were slavers, who incidentally threatened to rape her and in every instance we can see why someone might violently oppose slavers. Meanwhile, in a key difference from First they came…, the people who are being “come for” are persecuted parties (in the context to which the text refers, keep that in mind with the Communists). Not the oppressors. Portraying the slavers as the injured parties here, and not, like, the central problem in all thistakes some fucking nerve. Or some serious moral blindness.

Next, the attack on the audience. Shame on them for delighting in seeing evil fought! Successfully as well! Shame! Where’s my shame bell?

For the most part, the show framed most of Dany’s actions in Essos as just and positive. In later seasons, we saw Dany take violent actions. But at every step of the way to this point, the show did keep in sight that Dany was fighting fucking slavers. Her end goal was securing freedom for the former slaves. While the show from time to time questioned her means, up until oh, season eight episode four, her ends were portrayed as noble. So to start questioning those ends now, here in the final two episodes of the entire series, is a little jarring. Especially since, as mentioned beforehand, we haven’t seen any signs of Dany conflating “free people from tyranny” with “take over the world, mwahahaha” until her very scary speech just then. At most, she was conflating “free people from tyranny” with “defeat Cersei and assume rule of Westeros.” Which, given that Cersei blew up the Sept of Baelor with more than a hundred people inside, would seem, y’know. Fair enough to think that defeating Cersei would be freeing people from tyranny.

The viewer was not wrong to think that show!Daenerys had good intentions for the vast majority of this show. Yes, she also had personal ambitions and character flaws. The viewer was not wrong to think that the show wanted us to support Dany’s apparent ambitions of freeing people and overthrowing the dynamite-happy Cersei. Here in season eight, episode six, the show is trying to gaslight its own viewers with this “it was there all along!” horseshit.

Finally, the politics. Fighting evil makes you evil, don’t you know. Making an oppressor stop makes you just as bad as the oppressor, in the end. Do what show!Tyrion does, both in season six with the slavers and in seasons seven and eight with Cersei, and continue making futile appeals to an enemy who’s repeatedly taken advantage of peaceful processes. That’s how you stop injustice.

Even on what the show itself has shown us: that is some horse. shit.

In short, the writing here is bad and the politics are worse.

(25:25) “Wouldn’t you kill whoever stood between you and paradise?” What a wacky utopian notion Dany’s got in her head, a world without slavery.

Also, weird question, because no is a valid and reasonable answer to Tyrion’s question. Or perhaps not so weird, when you consider that the show has been pretty reliable in saying yes, the ends do justify the means. The exception is when someone gets one of the aforementioned wacky utopian notions in their head. You know. Killing children is bad, slavery is evil, feudal monarchy isn’t any great shakes…things like that.

(26:05) “I love her too,” Tyrion says. This was…kinda set up. Kinda. The staring as Jon went to Dany’s rooms at the end of season seven, the fact that Tyrion’s not patronising sex workers any more – that equals love. First, though, I’m not feeling it, because Tyrion’s spent very little personal time with Dany. Most of his interactions with her have been all business, and most of his business has been disagreeing with her about serious moral and ethical issues. Staring is not a substitute for character interaction.

I also find this pretty superfluous. Like, it’s not enough that Tyrion’s boss went nuts and killed an entire city, including his siblings, he has to be in love with her as well. He couldn’t have just genuinely believed in Dany’s good intentions and her ideals, he had to be in love with her. And again, Dinklage can act, but nobody can act well enough to make up for a script that just hasn’t done the work.

(27:13) What I’m noticing at this point is that in a scene that is all about suggesting to Jon that he may need to put down his girlfriend, Jon’s barely said a damn thing. He got in a few lines about people not being their parents, but mostly he’s just let Tyrion exposit about his philosophy and his emotions. The scene gets across how Tyrion feels…but not Jon.

(27:43) So just to confirm, yes, Tyrion is asking Jon to kill Dany.

(28:41) “And your sisters?” Tyrion asks Jon as he’s halfway out the door. Bran who?

(28:57) Another reminder that the only logical reason Sansa told Tyrion about Jon’s parentage is to put him forward as a Dany-alternative, despite telling her because it mattered a lot to him that he could be open with his family (a sign of how much he values their relationship), despite his requests for her to keep it secret for political reasons, and despite his personal opposition to becoming king. Show!Sansa…is not a very nice person.

(29:23) Jon walks down a corridor.

(29:43) Oh, thank goodness, that was only twenty seconds of Jon walking places before we saw something different and interesting. Remarkable restraint. Incidentally, I’m pretty sure this is supposed to be snow and not ash.

(31:04) Dany approaches the Iron Throne, fulfilling the show’s take on the House of the Undying prophecies. No, that does not mean the show was always headed for Dany becoming the ultimate villain. It’s just a better retcon than Arya killing the Night’s King.

(31:44) Now this is a better use of people-walking-places shots. It’s not just the one shot of a person walking down a hall, it’s watching someone walk towards an object with significance in a setting which has recently changed dramatically. The time we spend watching Dany walk towards a a chair here lets us see those changes and process the culmination of her ambitions.

Or continue screaming in outrage, take your pick.

(33:41) Jon Snow, finally emoting! Finally expressing an opinion! About bloody time, mate.

(34:56) In this scene, Dany is worlds away from the angry, dishevelled, heavy-breathing figure she’s been for the last two episodes. She’s back to perfect grooming. She’s smiling. She shared a story about her childhood with Jon. Much like with Cersei, we’re spending the final moments of Dany’s life emphasising Dany as a woman, just happy to be spending some time with her boyfriend. Ha ha, joke’s on her, her boyfriend is going to kill her. More on this in just a second.

By the way, it would still have been offensive if Dany was in mwa-ha-ha, burn them all mode, or in the same state she was in at the start of episode five. This is because the central decision here, to make Dany a villain due to her idealism (in some fucked up notion that fighting for a better world is itself a slippery slope), was offensive. Also poor writing.

(35:11) “How do you know it’ll be a good world?” Jon asks, and Dany replies “Because I know what is good.”

(35:33) Plus “They don’t get to choose,” Dany says, in a way too perfect echo of the conversation Tyrion just had with Jon. Okay, joke’s over, who replaced Dany with Tyrion’s straw man? We need to get on with the actual finale now.

(36:17) Dany basically proposes to Jon. They start kissing.

(36:33) Then Jon stabs her. While they’re making out.

This is so many terrible, misogynistic storytelling devices rolled into one. Again before we hit the issue of shitty writing decisions. Dany’s gone mad with power! Her reasonable boyfriend must save her from herself. If only she were in her right mind, she would doubtlessly agree. Dany was killed by her boyfriend in a moment of physical intimacy! Oh, uh, wow, that might not look so great huh – better justify it with her mass murder of civilians. The real tragedy here is how it affects the men who love Daenerys! Not the woman who got fucking murdered.

(36:41) And Dany dies without a hair out of place, a trickle of blood from her mouth and another from her nose. No inconvenient protesting, either. Very neat, very clean. 10/10 for tidiness.

So I’m on to the thing about gendered character deaths! So many female characters killed off in ways meant to emphasise some aspect or another of their femininity. Melisandre is a good, recent exception. Margaery and Olenna Tyrell, Obara and Nymeria Sand, they escaped gendered deaths.

Cersei died begging for her boyfriend’s comfort. Catelyn, Selyse Baratheon, and Ellaria Sand all died with trauma over the deaths of their children. Myrcella Baratheon died just as she accepted that she was Jaime’s daughter. Tyene Sand was killed to cause her mother pain. Talisa Maegyr was graphically stabbed in her stomach to emphasise that her unborn child was being killed as well. Shae was killed by her ex-boyfriend, focus on him as he mourned the fact that he had to kill her. Ygritte died in Jon’s arms – and now Daenerys does the same. That is a lengthy list of dead female characters dead in ways connected to their familial and/or romantic relationships. This is what we call a pattern. A pattern that repeatedly emphasises that a woman’s death isn’t her own death. It recalls the value she had for others, but not her value in and of herself.

Finally, a note on Dany’s characterisation. Because in amongst all the misogyny, there was also some character writing that would have been shitty whether or not it was also sexist.

Most of Dany’s character has been subject to a giant retcon. Daenerys was a good and caring ruler when it suited the plot, freeing slaves, deciding to fight the Others. And she was a ruthless tyrant when it suited the plot, going from “fighting the Others” to “becoming fantasy Hitler” in the space of two episodes. The wildly divergent and contradictory aspects of this character were not reconciled through any sort of internal journey, but cherry-picked according to the external plot circumstances, the gaps in characterisation covered by “but she’s crazy! Don’t expect consistency!” Until she was evil instead of crazy, here at the end, despite what came before.

(37:16) Shockingly, we’re focusing on Jon as he cries over the body of his girlfriend, who he just murdered in an intimate moment. This moment brought to you by the writers who focused on Tyrion as he killed Shae and on Theon as Sansa was raped. This is also a thing we call a pattern.

Jon hasn’t even had the character writing to sustain this moment. He’s barely said anything but “she’s my queen” all season. He’s barely had a character all season. So the sexism in this entire narrative can’t even be somewhat ameliorated (YMMV) by a successfully-executed tragedy. Jon’s interiority has been pretty well ignored, which means that the conflict here is that “Jon loves Dany, but Dany is very evil.” Ignoring Jon’s interiority here means that this plot point has nothing at all to say about right and wrong or the meaning of family in order to distract us from the misogyny of eeeeeeevil woman loses control and must be killed by her boyfriend for the good of everyone. There’s no garnish of quality execution on this fundamentally messed up plot.

I suppose in some ways that’s a relief. In others…the writers can’t even do wrong, right.

(37:41) Drogon approaches Jon, who’s still crying over Dany’s body.

(38:30) The moment as Drogon nudges at Daenerys’ body is actually sad.

(38:58) Drogon rears back, roaring. Jon’s not going anywhere.

(39:17) Psych! Drogon’s not burning Jon, he’s burning the Iron Throne! If you thought the dragon wings behind Dany were subtle and artful, you haven’t seen anything yet.

(39:42) So Drogon melts down the Iron Throne entirely. Doesn’t do anything to Jon. Leaves Jon alone entirely. Just slags the throne.

(41:06) Then takes Dany’s body and flies the hell out of there. Hopefully to a story with more respect for its female characters. Or, indeed, the concept of characters, characterisation, character development…the list goes on…

(41:51) Cut to Tyrion lying on a floor. It’s a very close shot. We’ve only got his face. We don’t know when this is, or where he is.

(42:17) After nearly thirty seconds of this, Tyrion lifts his head. Nearly thirty seconds!

(42:34) Why we didn’t start the scene here, with Tyrion actually going places, is beyond me. Because the chains around Tyrion’s wrists weren’t enough of a clue that he was still imprisoned, we had to see him lying on the floor for thirty seconds, and then Grey Worm come and get him?

Mind you, it’s a bit of a nostalgia trip. How many more shots of Tyrion walking places are we going to get in this series? We’re nearly at the end here, folks.

(42:50) Or here! Here’s a good place to pick up as well, as Tyrion and Grey Worm arrive places! The Dragonpit, incidentally. Call back to 7.07 with lots of people walking around and not actually doing much plot stuff.

(43:11) Quick pan over the people here, including a bunch of blasts from the past. Aside from the Stark delegation, we’ve got Edmure Tully! Who’s still a guy who exists in this show! Brienne and Davos are here too, mostly because they are named characters, I think! Gendry’s come down and is not sitting next to or otherwise interacting with Arya, because now that Arya rejected his proposal there’s no actual characterisation involved in his appearance. There are a few more randoms. Yara Greyjoy! Someone in Dornish clothes, not that the integrity of the Dornish plot mattered at any point! The gang is all here!

(43:34) “Where’s Jon?” Sansa asks. Pssst, girl, this is a meeting for characters with consequence. Jon’s got no business here.

(43:39) So Jon’s a prisoner, Tyrion’s a prisoner, but Tyrion is here and Jon is not. For reasons that are no more than “because reasons.” Sansa, stop pointing out the inconsistencies, artificialities, and writing decisions made at the direct expense of other characters and logical plotting all involved in giving Tyrion one last monologue! You’re ruining it!

(43:58) Now that Grey Worm points out that the Unsullied, who have had custody of Jon and Tyrion both for an undetermined but presumably multi-week period of time, wish to harm Jon and Tyrion for their actions towards Dany…why haven’t the Unsullied done anything about Jon and Tyrion?

(44:29) Once again we get Grey Worm addressed by the foreign language version of his name, because we are dehumanising the Unsullied and keeping their slave pasts out of view!

(44:44) “The people who used to live [in the Reach] are gone.” I mean, what the fuck do you even say to this? It’s just – there’s no worldbuilding to it. In the entirety of the show, there’s been like one battle in the Reach – the telefrag stomping Jaime delivered last season. That’s it. That’s all. Bam, the people are gone, because that’s what’s most convenient for this particular scene.

(45:11) “You are not here to speak,” Grey Worm yells at Tyrion. Because Tyrion is a prisoner. This is not going to stop anyone, least of all the writers. They have a monologue, they have a favourite character, and this is their last fucking chance.

(45:34) A shot over at the Vale delegation shows us Lord Royce and Sweetrobin Arryn, the latter of whom is also still a guy who exists in this show. Anyhow, Tyrion’s redirected the conversation to the fact that Westeros is currently leaderless.

(45:44) It apparently has not occurred to this group of feudal lords and ladies, all of whom are upset in some way, shape, or form by the King in the North killing Queen Daenerys Targaryen, that they should at some point get around to working out who’s going to be in charge.

This is such unbelievably terrible writing and plotting. After eight seasons of people fighting over power, we’ve got a roomful of people who have been intimately involved in that struggle for power, and they have to be reminded about the leadership vacuum in the only form of government any of them are willing to accept and reminded of their own agency. None of these characters are behaving like people in this scene, informed by their past experiences and their society. They are walking, talking props for Tyrion’s/the writers’ monologue.

It doesn’t matter how good the central monologue is. If every other fucking character in the entire fucking scene has to cease being a character – something in the writing has to change.

If, of course, your aim was to write a good story.

(45:54) “Make your choice, then,” Grey Worm says, referring to ‘who should rule’, and none of these people apparently have any opinions.

(46:14) Still got time for a joke at Edmure’s expense! Sorry, man, you are amongst the many, many characters who the show did real dirty.

(47:04) Sam Tarly, also here because he’s a named character.

(47:18) A full minute gag at Edmure’s expense. Seriously, there’s hardly any plot here.

(47:30) Now that we’ve seen Sam, he speaks up, and proposes another wacky idealistic notion. Democracy, am I right? But Sam’s fine, morally speaking, because he’s not actually going to fightfor it. He’s just going to put it out there as an idea, have it be laughed at, and make no follow up.

(48:24) The first person to be asked if he wants the crown is Tyrion. Why. Again, worldbuilding! The show hasn’t done much discussion of who inherits Tywin’s lands and titles. The title “Lord of Casterly Rock” is going to go unmentioned. We’re still ignoring the fact that Tyrion’s a prisoner accused of treason. No matter how nice it is to see that this group of lords and ladies aren’t going to hold Tyrion’s disability against him, it does run a bit counter to the established prejudice he faced in earlier seasons.

(48:37) The next thing that happens is someone asking Tyrion for his opinion on who should rule. Because again, this is a thing that nobody present has opinions on. “Who should rule?” is one of those obscure points of law that you can only expect a nerd to deep-dive into the archives and come back with some heavily footnoted proposal, and not a pressing and present concern for a group of feudal nobles trying to rebuild in the midst of a devastating winter and following the conclusion of equally devastating years-long war over that exact goddamned question.

It also bears repeating: why are they asking Tyrion? Tyrion, who is a prisoner (Grey Worm totally having forgotten that he’s not here to speak), and whose advice to Dany was spectacularly useless at its best.

This isn’t even Tyrion taking over through force of personality. Literally every other character present has been silenced by the writers to provide Tyrion with this one last chance to monologue.

This has been a recurring problem in this series. Over the course of the show, the showrunners have brought in some incredibly talented people! Yay! There’s some meaty stuff in this series which talented actors can do a lot with! Unfortunately, the showrunners started giving certain actors too much opportunity to show off. They gave us too much of a good thing. The desire to keep, say, Lena Headey or Iwan Rheon around another season opened up plot holes. The screen time given over for Jerome Flynn or Diana Rigg to banter cut from time that could have been used to develop the world and the story. And now, we’re resolving one of the central questions of the series – who should rule – not with a dialogue arising from the developed perspectives of the surviving cast over eight season, but with a monologue from a character and actor the writers have already heavily favoured. At the expense of every other character in the scene, and therefore every other actor.

(48:45) Tyrion confirms that it has been weeks since Dany was killed. Weeks. And nobody has an opinion about who should rule. Nobody’s done anything about it. Complete paralysis. For weeks.

(49:27) “What unites people? […] Stories.” So it’s not just a monologue, it’s an incredibly on-the-nose, self-congratulatory monologue. Is this Tyrion Lannister speaking, or David Benioff and Dan Weiss?

(49:45) “And who has a better story than Bran the Broken?”

Is this a rhetorical question?

Also, “the Broken”, ugh, seriously? Must we?

(49:52) Anyway, Tyrion continues on, proving to us for the purposes of the scene that it was not actually a rhetorical question. Bran’s story in the show as a whole was so compelling that he got booted from an entire season and his supporting cast was killed off or unceremoniously seen off home mid-season. Bran’s characterisation for the last two seasons has been so flat the the character says he doesn’t want anything and this is entirely believable. Bran’s such a presence in the narrative that when Tyrion himself begged Jon to think of what he stood to lose if the Starks opposed Dany, he didn’t even mention Bran.

What have we been told here, and what have we been shown?

(50:30) “Who better to lead us into the future?” Again, is this a rhetorical question? Just because the characters got their brains forcibly shut off doesn’t mean same happened to the viewers.

(50:49) “That is the wheel our queen wanted us to break.” Was it, though? Was it really? I wasn’t hearing much about hereditary monarchies from Dany, and a bit more about people living in peace and freedom. Not much more, but mostly I’ve been putting that down to a failure in the writing to portray Dany’s agenda, rather than the narrative intentionally depicting a character whose agenda was poorly-developed.

(51:01) Somehow, this gets even more outrageous when Tyrion, who people are still listening towithout so much as a squeak of protest, says that rulers will no longer be born but elected by the nobility. Hey, we have someone here familiar with that form of governance – Yara Greyjoy, any opinions? What did you think about the last elected king of the Iron Islands? Edmure, Lord Royce, you compared letting peasants vote on rulers to be like letting animals vote, what do you think about Davos having a say in the monarchy? Or people like the recently-legitimised and ennobled Gendry?

(51:25) Tyrion approaches Bran and here we see Bran’s true worthiness to rule – he doesn’t want to, and he doesn’t care about power. So he’s definitely someone who will be careful with the power he has. We’ve seen this when Bran was so very sensitive in bringing up Sansa’s rape to her, and so very kind when telling Meera to go home because their paths had diverged. He was very careful in using his omniscience in those cases.

(51:37) Bran, who is being nominated to be king apparently against his wishes, sits there and listens to Tyrion’s speech without batting an eyelid. That’s how indifferent to power he is. And apparently how indifferent to human emotion he is.

(51:49) Unbelievably, it gets worse. Bran says, “Why do you think I came all this way?” Which implies that he foresaw these events. Which implies he foresaw the burning of King’s Landing. We don’t know when exactly he foresaw it, but with what we know about the extent of show!Bran’s powers, I think it’s a pretty solid implication that he saw the whole fucking thing.

Which means he a) saw the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people and did nothing to even try and stop it, and b) saw his brother murder someone he loved, from what he believed was genuine need (go with it) and did nothing to even try and stop it. If this is so, how is Bran not an absolutely terrible human being, both on the micro scale (refusing to step in to try and spare his brother pain) and the macro scale (how many people died in King’s Landing)?

Moreover, how is such a fatalist fit to rule? Bran foresees a flood that will strike a populated area and affect a great deal of a harvest. What does he do about it?

(52:02) Tyrion votes for Bran to be king. On what grounds does Tyrion vote? He’s a bound prisoner! Nobody’s even said yes to voting!

(52:14) Sam Tarly starts off the round of inexplicable agreement.

(52:34) It’s interesting how Tyrion’s in the centre of the shot, here. What’s actually being judged here is not Bran’s worth as king, but Tyrion’s proposal.

(53:18) Sansa here says that she still wants Northern independence. Even though it’s her brother on the throne. So again, we see that she’s not after national agency (which the North could probably expect with a Northerner on the throne) but personal agency and national separatism. I’m sympathetic to Sansa’s desire for personal agency.  I’m less sympathetic to the separatists who were happy to accept southern and Essosi help when they needed it and unwilling to give back even common courtesy.

We’ve got people from regions with historical and current reasons for desiring independence present – do Yara Greyjoy and the Guy of Dorne have any opinions on Sansa’s actions? Hell, does anyone else here have any opinions on putting a Stark on the throne when the rest of the Starks are taking their bat and ball and going home, leaving the collective family with the perks of rule and none of the responsibilities or shared duties? Grey Worm, any thoughts?

(53:56) No, stop, fuck this “broken” shit. Of all the people who should fucking well understand what it is to be defined by derogatory terms for one’s disability. Tyrion Lannister, folks. Tyrion Lannister.

(54:28) Tyrion is rewarded with the Handship, because this scene was not about Bran. It wasn’t even about Westeros. It was about Tyrion.

(54:55) Now Grey Worm has an opinion.

(55:21) Hello, Jon! Remember when you were relevant? Remember when you were a character? Tyrion comes in with the news that Jon’s been exiled to the Night’s Watch. How poetic, he’s going full circle.

But…what’s changed, here? Jon originally went to the Watch because he felt distanced from his family, acutely aware of how his very existence was an inconvenience to others, intending to make his own place in the world. Now, Jon’s being actually exiled to the Watch, distanced from his own family, because his existence is an inconvenience to others. He still doesn’t have that place in the world that he wanted. At best he’s got a second chance, but man, what a half-assed conclusion.

It also just cements in how fucking irrelevant everything about his character was. What was the point of his parentage? What was the point of his death and resurrection? What was the point of his relationships with his siblings? What was the point of his social class? What was the point of his promotion to king? What was the point of the things he learned beyond the Wall? I’ll have a few final words on some of that in a bit.

(56:02) Grey Worm wanted more than just exile for Jon, but accepted the justice of Jon’s exile. And kept him in a dungeon for weeks beforehand, despite being the man in charge, without harming a hair on his head…why?

(57:39) Once again we’re changing it up and watching Jon Snow walk places.

(58:09) Thankfully, we’re changing up the angles. We see Jon pass a few other Watchmen, we see a shot of Dany’s fleet departing Westeros. We follow Jon on the docks as he passes Dothraki. This is way better walking-places shots, because it’s not just a picture of a man walking, it’s a picture of a man walking through a setting. For these shots, the showrunners have thought about what they wanted to say about the setting as well as the person walking through it.

(58:48) Grey Worm looks down at Jon.

(59:08) The Unsullied are heading to Naath, like Grey Worm promised Missandei. Nice that the Unsullied get faces again, though.

(59:44) Jon’s siblings head out to see him off. First Sansa, who confirms she’s staying in the North. There are hugs as the Winterfell theme plays.

(1:00:41) Then we get confirmation that Arya’s not staying in the north, to the point where she does not expect to see Jon again. This is…aaaaaargh.

(1:00:57) Arya wants to find out what’s west of Westeros. Okay. That’s a thing she’s mentioned once. Compared to her seasons-long effort to get home. I said it earlier, I think the showrunners lost sight of Arya’s motivations. They saw the things she didn’t want – to be forced into various manifestations of patriarchal society, mostly – and didn’t end up tracking the things that the book version of her character very much does want. Namely, her home and her family. Even her desire for revenge is based in how much she wants her home and her family.

Having a character not tethered strongly by motivation is convenient, because you can find an excuse to put her anywhere and make her do anything. Much like Bran! But it comes at the cost of the character. Here at the end, when the Starks are splitting up, it doesn’t feel like their life ambitions are logically leading them to different places, but like the writers are intervening. This decision to go west of Westeros, this thing Arya has mentioned once, doesn’t seem like something she wants so much that she’d forfeit any chance of seeing Jon again.

(1:02:02) Bran tells Jon that he was exactly where he needed to be. I’m reading this as that Jon was needed to kill Dany. That was the point of him as a character in the show. Killing Dany. Everything was in service of killing Dany.

One, this looks like another retcon. Two, man, what a fucking cruel retcon! Destiny’s grand plan here involves them falling in love only for Jon to fucking murder her! And I’m still not seeing how Jon’s death and resurrection was a crucial step in this plan, so it’s not even a quality retcon making sense of disparate plot points.

(1:02:54) Here’s Brienne’s resolution. She’s leafing through the White Book (props to the props folk; you can see the different handwriting from page to page).

(1:03:47) We see Brienne adding to Jaime’s entry. This shows a change in Jaime’s character development and arc from earlier – where back in ASoS, Jaime writes his captures and maiming “in an awkward hand that might have done credit to a six-year-old being taught his first letters,” complete with the acknowledgement that it was Brienne who returned him to King’s Landing, in the show apparently he recounted the first capture and his ransom only. Brienne adds Jaime’s latter-season deeds in the most flattering light before finishing “died protecting his queen.”

Note how this resolution to Brienne’s story is mostly about Jaime. With bonus romanticisation of the Jaime/Cersei relationship. The show never got how messed up that dynamic was.

(1:04:56) Tyrion walks through what’s presumably the Red Keep and approaches the Hand’s chair at the Small Council’s table. It’s great that the Red Keep got rebuilt so fast! Like nothing ever happened. Continuity schmontinuity.

(1:05:29) We’ve got time for one more take of rearranging the chairs. Another case of too much of a good thing. Both in the sense that we get thirty seconds of Tyrion fiddling with the chairs, and in that this joke made its point the first time and the second time.

(1:06:09) The new look Small Council enters to Tyrion at the head of the table. Tyrion’s in charge, here. At this point I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to say that Game of Thrones is centrally a story about Tyrion Lannister’s rise to power. Which is certainly a decision that the adaptation made. Just one that doesn’t look all that much like A Song of Ice and Fire.

(1:06:15) Bronn’s back, re-emerging from his plot hole one final time. Like he never threatened to kill Tyrion at all.

(1:06:17) Sam’s in a maester’s robes. Like he’s even a maester. What about his Watch position? Who knows?

(1:06:27) Sam presents Tyrion with a book entitled “A Song of Ice and Fire.” Hey, that’s the name of the books! Apparently it’s a history of the wars following the death of King Robert. Which is…not actually the A Song of Ice and Fire we’re following, which is about a bit more than the War of Five Kings.

(1:08:04) No word of Drogon. So Bran leaves the business of ruling to Tyrion while he goes looking for dragons. He wasn’t kidding about not caring about power. This is getting off to a great start that will in no way result in the same Robert Baratheon-y indifference to running the country.

(1:08:22) Confirmation that Pod was knighted and is now a member of the Kingsguard, just tying up these loose ends.

(1:08:57) A bit of expositing about Bronn’s new title. He is indeed the Lord of Highgarden. Master of Coin, too. Makes sense, makes sense. Not.

(1:09:52) We back out of the meeting as the new Small Council starts on solving the problems of the realm (including its lack of brothels), for some bizarre reason everyone referring to themselves in the third person.

(1:10:13) The final line of dialogue in the entire series is “I once brought a jackass and a honeycomb into a brothel.” Call back! In the same fine taste as so much of the dialogue in this show. And we never do get to hear the punchline. (He asked for someone to lick honey off his ass.)

(1:10:19) Cut to Jon arriving at the Wall. There’s a bit of rubble around, but the order’s still functioning, the Wall’s still there. Where’s the fundamental change the events of the series wrought on the setting?

(1:11:03) Jon reunites with his truest friend, Tormund. Speaking of, it’s nice that someone has a buddy.

(1:11:37) Time for Ramin Djawadi’s last hurrah. It’s a Stark montage, as Jon, Sansa and Arya get ready to set out on their next adventures. I think there’s a significant structural change in evidence from the books here. In the books, Sansa, Arya and Bran are more closely in parallel. Jon’s got strong thematic connections to them, of course, but his primary parallels are with Dany.

Which isn’t necessarily a bad change until you recall how badly the show’s treated Dany. And how anemic the writing for Jon was, too.

What this final montage also emphasises is the atomisation of the Stark family, and that, that is fucking sad. This is not a montage of the Starks. This is a montage of Jon, Arya, and Sansa, starting their permanently separate lives.

Again, compared to the books, the love the Starks have for each other is one of the central themes running through their PoVs. The Starks love each other. The Starks love their home. It is grounding and centralising and helps bring out the best in each of them. This ending, where apparently these three get what they want at the cost of those familial relationships – it seems almost backwards. I’m not sure the book versions of these characters could get what they wanted out of life if it meant sacrificing the notion of their family unit.

It’s different, and it’s not a different I prefer. I have thought for a long time that the show did not show the bonds between the Starks well. I’m not surprised at the ending of the series those bonds are severed altogether.

Bran? Who’s Bran? Is he part of the family?

(1:13:40) What. Jon is paying attention to his direwolf. This is madness.

(1:14:45) It makes me very sad how alone Sansa is in this shot as she’s crowned queen. Show!Sansa isn’t a nice person by any means, but for the sake of her book counterpart…

(1:15:15) As Jon helps lead the Free Folk back north past the Wall, you can see grass starting to poke through the snow cover. The show finishes with him riding into a northern forest.

I asked this a bit more than a year ago, but what was the point of all this? What changed? I touched on it with Jon, but what is the difference in the setting? Some borders got rearranged, a different king’s on the throne, but the system remains fundamentally the same. The game of thrones goes on. The aspects of the plot that were supposed to be agents of major change, worthy of an eight-season series – Dany and her dragons, the Free Folk moving south, the Others– all got dealt with and removed from the ending with nice neat little bows and nice neat little deaths.

All that story and all it did was destroy a family.

Thus ends the recap, but I am trying to work on a wrap-up essay. A bit more looking at the forest instead of the trees, and trying to work out where the series went so, so badly wrong.

#anti got #fine toothed comb edition #cw: violence #cw: rape mention #season eight #long episode long post long face

[unmaskedagain]

Crack drabble ahead. Just a one-shot. Enjoy.

 Marinette had always known Tom Dupain wasn’t her biological father. She didn’t know that her bio Dad was a supervillain. Cause that wasn’t awkward.

His name was Leonard Snart. He was Captain Cold, leader of the Rogues. She had gone to Central City with the blessings of her parents. Sabine and Tom, just wanted her out of Paris, because while they now knew their daughter was the hero Ladybug. They’d rather she was safe far away.

Marinette had used the horse miraculous to portal to Central city. With Tikki’s luck, she had ended up at a place called Star Labs and had just walked in.

She found a redhead woman and a Hispanic man talking.

“Do you guys not believe in security?” She asked, interrupting their conversation.

           Cisco crossed his arms, “Hello small insulting person, did you break in just to tell us that?

“You’re welcome, guy who looks like he’d fit in at a star wars convention,” Marinette smirked. “I’m looking for my dad. Someone told me you’d know where he is?”

           Caitlin hummed. Poor thing was lost. “Who’s your dad, sweetie?”

“Leonard Snart,” Marinette said easiler.

“Devi!” Cisco pointed at her. “Spawn of the Satan.” He slammed down a button of the table. “Barry, quick. Snart. Hurry.”

           Seconds later, the Flash appeared in the room. “Where’s Captain Cold?”

“We’ll get to that in a second,” Marinette said. “but first, don’t you think you’re taking your leather fetish a bit far.”

           Barry just stared at her, “What? I’m the Flash.”

           Marinette raised her hands in surrender, “Hey, I don’t want to know what you get called in the bedroom.”

           Barry looked around helplessly. Caitlin took mercy on him, “Snart’s her dad.”

           He facepalmed. Because, yeah, that explained everything.

           An hour later, after Cisco and Caitlin had hunted down his current location and done a DNA test just in case, The flash, and Marinette were outside of one of the rogue’s safehouses. A warehouse repurposed into a home.

           A zoom later, they were standing in front of Leonard and Mick.

“What, Scarlet?” Leonard drawled, “No knock.”

“Who the chick?” Mick asked gruffly.

“Name’s Marinette,” She said as she dropped her bag. “Mom’s name was Sabine.” Leonard’s eyes widened at the name. “You guys dated. She got pregnant. Congrats, it’s a girl. I’m here the summer,” She drawled easily. “Oh, yeah, hi dad.”

           The men in the room blink at the small girl.

           Mick snorted, “Name’s Mick, princess. Don’t touch my stuff.”

“Star labs did a DNA test,” Barry interjected. “She’s yours.

           Leonard just narrowed his eyes at her. He had no doubt that Goody two shoes was telling the truth. But still, he was now a dad to a teenage girl. Lisa would never let him hear the end of it.

“Does Sabine-” Leonard started.

“Know you’re a Supervillian,” Marinette interrupted. “Yeah. But Paris is fucked right now. You were the best bet. Where’s my room?” She asked. “Oh, and your supervillain costume sucks. Not as bad as fetish guy over here, but still.”

“It’s a good look,” Lenoard glared. “A Cold classic.” He looked at Flash, who looked far too amused for Cold’s liking. “What? Staying for family dinner?”

“No thanks,” Barry shrugged. “I’d like to keep poison out of my main food groups.”

           Leonard chucked and sauntered over to the Flash, “I wouldn’t poison you. You’re too much fun. Might let Mick set you on fire, though.”

“Gee, thanks.”

           Their banter went on for another five minutes.

           Marinette looked between the two; Captain Cold and the Flash were clearly flirting with each other.

“Yeah, we’re not doing this,” Marinette said loudly, gaining the attention of the room. “You want to bone him,” She pointed from her father to the Flash. “And you,” she pointed at Barry, “totally want in his pants.” She pointed at her dad. “ I have known you both for like five minutes and I can totally tell. But I’m guessing the whole criminal past, and current nemesis things is the way. I’m not going to deal with your unresolved sexual tension. This summer’s going to blow enough as it is. So here’s the deal…” Marinette pointed at the Flash. “You’re name is Barry. I know your secret identity. Tonight, you will show up at an Italian restaurant to be later to decided at 8 o’clock tonight to go on a date with my dad. If you don’t, I will tell everyone who you are.”

           Marinette looked at her dad. “You will show up at the same restaurant to have dinner with the Flash. Or I will burn this place to the ground. You will have dinner and dessert. And if you decide to have sex, do it at his place.” She ordered. “Uncle Mick, you’re babysitting. I’m going to find my room.” And with that, she stomped off.

           Mick took a swallow from his beer. “I like her,” He said and went back to watching TV. The Firestarter decided he’d get some pretty and shiny for his new niece. One because she was his niece. And two because she’d finally said what both Team Flash and rogues had been dying to for months, “Go Fuck each other already.”

           Barry and Leonard stared at each other.

“I heard Romano’s on third is pretty good,” Barry muttered shyly.

           Leonard smirked, “Best Tiramisu around.” And Captain Cold decided right then and there, he loved his daughter.

           The next morning, Leonard strolled in his hideout with a smirk on his face. He found Marinette eating cereal at the kitchen counter. He paused at her looked over his daughter, who reminded him so much of his himself at that age it was startling. Leonard knew he’d have to keep an eye on her. “Just so we’re clear, I’m in charge.”

           Marinette snorted.

           Leonard sighed, the summer was going to interesting.

           A week later, after Plagg had gotten into Mick’s gourmet cheese.

“You have a magical girl transformation. And you go by ladybug. Leonard groaned. “Ladybug, really?” He shook his head.

An hour later at Star Lab. Captain jabbed a finger at Barry’s chest, “Why does every hero I like think tight red leather is appropriate?”

“Wh-what?” The hero asked.

           Barry was so confused.

#coldflash #ml fic #marinette dupen chang #barry allen #mick rory #cisco roman #leonard snart

[mansionofmuses]

Alright fuck it I figured it's time to put my nuts in the ring when it comes to writing up rwde reviews about shiddy writing.

I already made a post about how closure doesn't exist in rwby, so that SHOULD trim this a bit. Hopefully.

These last two of seasons of rwby have been ASS and idk even know where to start. So lemme do some character progressions instead of jumping all over the place. Let's start with my fav: Neo. And I'll be as unbiased as possible.

Starting from v6, she came back and teamed up with Cinder. Cool? Cool. Fair enough. V7 onwards she's been treated like a BITCH by Cinder and has visibly shown her disdain for that on screen. And yet she still chooses to hang with her? Why? Like... Genuinely why? Is Neo not like the stealth queen? And the driver of a thousand vehicles? Why does she even need Cinder? Could she not have just jacked an airship herself, flown to Atlas after getting the info from Cinder, and began her hunt there? Instead she's just some minion to her now? Okay fine so let's say their team up makes sense in some odd world. Why the fuck would Neo agree to go to Cinder in the Satan Whale? Why? Why the fuck is she there? After being denied multiple times to get to Ruby and even being treated like shit with visible disdain, she should have absolutely left with a middle finger to Cinder. But nope. We get to see her be visibly uncomfortable in this cult and clearly wants out. Which she does, so good shit. She snatches the lamp and heads out. Fair enough, I guess? I don't know why the fuck she trusts Cinder to go back to her after being treated like shit. After Cinder's doodoo attitude towards her, Neo should be like "wow maybe she's lying to me about roman lemme check with this genie bitch" but no. And don't say "oh well she can't talk so jinn wouldn't be able to answer her." Fuck that. 1. I should hope that the password wouldn't be so ableist against mute people. 2. Neo's resourceful as hell. Text to speech and boom. There ya go. Instead she goes back to Cinder like a lost puppy after being shown multiple times how much she hates her. Why the fuck does she need Cinder to get to Ruby? I have no fucking idea! And then everyone's favorite scene. I know I know she killed Blake's hip atta-- I mean character devel-- I mean Yang. That scene. Was doodoo. And I'll get into more intricacies about it much later. But for now, why the hell was Neo so sloppy in that assassination? Like gurl you revealed yourself so early from, apparently so far away? Pretend to be a passerby with everything disguised (I saw that lamp) impale her and boom. Done. Not sure why she went for a slash either when a thrusting weapons like that would be best for a quicker impale. It would have made any on screen death so much more confirmed instead of up in the air bullshit.

Next we have Ironwood. Oh James. How far you've fallen. I don't really understand what the hell they're doing with this character any more. Like... At all. I fully expect him to turn into the joker and join salem at this point lmfao. At first he was complex, but cool, right? Ok a stern leader who still wants to help people and see team rwby in beacon grow and be successful. Fair enough. Then came v4 and he was like "hey yang. Heard about the arm. Here ya go homie." That was pretty cool to give to a young veteran. Fair enough. But good god once v7 hit, everything just went haywire. He started making the dumbest decisions. Kind of. I understand how he's like "aite let's sack mantle to ensure atlas lives cause otherwise both parties will be dead." except idk why he didn't just make a plan to evacuate everyone to mantle first but whatever. I mean team rwby did it like... In a day? Shouldn't have been hard. Then he started losing his fucking mind. There was an entire thing about trust issues and plans (ngl I didn't care enough to pay much attention) and he ends up wanting to arrest the kids more than actually stopping Salem. Like homie. Why. You have a gang of strong ass hunters on your side, don't just throw that away. They could say "acab fuck the police anarchy reigns" and you should still keep them just to fight literal satan on your doorstep. But he fucking drops everything and resources and materials on arresting them. Like why???? And then he just shoots a child just because? And he goes around full fascist mode and his character is just gone at that point. He literally actively wants to kill the people of Mantle now instead of stopping Salem and I don't fucking get it. He could literally plot with salem about how to nuke mantle and I'd be like "shoulda seen it coming". And then when he gets outta jail he kills Jacques... Just cause? Like why? I understand Jacques let Salem's forces in and eventually led to this shit show, but like... Atlas was falling. Just leave. I don't understand. But I guess it's to show how hateful he is towards those who oppose him, so whatever. Idk I'm so done with him. This man is just so boring I just can't wait for him to get killed off so we can be done with him. I'm sure I missed a fuckload of intricacies about Ironwood but I really don't care at all about this schmuck.

Next on the shitlist is the entirety of team rwby. Just to compact it all into one. Ruby has been getting on my nerves SO much. She is so holier than thou and always right. If she had just openly talked with Ironwood about all these secrets and shit, none of this would be happening. Yeah there would be panic, but homie what's the alternative? Fight in secrecy against the police and Salem?

"hey Ruby I noticed that lamp you keep hanging around. What is that?"

"oh uhhhh definitely not a grimm magnet HAHAHAHAH"

Like no shit everyone's gonna be pissed when you lie to them and keep these secrets. Also these plans are dogshit. "We gotta get a message out." To who??? The rest of the world is gonna see some lil kid be like "hey Ironwood's gone crazy and some evil witch bitch is here tryna kill us all." Like who are they gonna believe? A random girl or the fact that ironwood is the head of the largest military state in the world? For all they know it's just some prank and it's totally unbelievable.

Team RWBY sippin team for v8 and doing nothing all volume? Nice. "But they needed to protect Nora." You mean to tell me Ruby, May, Blake, and Weiss all had to be there to protect someone. The Grimm attacked once and that was it. You guys have no medical history. At all. All you did was wrap her up and drink tea during the volume where there's a literal war happening outside. You don't just "wait for help" you ARE THE HELP you're hunters you fucks! Go out and get shit done. Have like one person stay behind just in case shit goes wrong. Preferably Weiss so she can have those meaningful conversations with her family members she never fucking had. But whatever. Ruby and Yang get into... A fight? That lasts for five seconds when they leave and then when they see each other again it just doesn't matter so I'm not sure why the fuck it was brought up at all. It had no impact whatsoever. And there's a ton more I'm sure I'm just burning out at this point. But let's just talk about the big shit. Yang's death. Everyone's saying she'll come back because plot armor but I'm in the "I genuinely think she's dead" group. She turned to Dust as she fell. I mean who knows maybe Deus Ex machina rears it's convenient head. I hate hate hate how that scene was done. That was such an unbelievable death. Weiss, Ruby, and even Blake all have ways of catching her. Easily. Weiss has like fifty ways of catching someone between summons and semblance. Ruby can teleport around the world. And Blake can just shadow clone jutsu her way there but WHATEVER. I guess everyone was too busy being nerfed and sucking ass. Again. And the reactions? Dog shit. Even when she sacrifices herself for Ruby, it's still all about the bees. It's so genuinely annoying. Ruby just whispers her sisters name and that's pretty much it aside from a >:( face here and there. Weiss doesn't even grieve she just comforts Blake who's losing her shit. And I don't know why Weiss doesn't grieve cause SHE WAS HER HOMIE TOO LIKE C'MON RT LET'S SEE SOME UGLY SOBBING DAMN so now everyone's gone feral (except Weiss who just doesn't give a shit about Yang apparently.) And despite Blake saying "yo let's not kill people aite Yang?" She's gonna say fuck that and have it out for Neo and Cinder out of revenge. Alright I guess. That's fair honestly. Challenging ones own morals based on emotions. Good enough. But god I just wished we could see more from Ruby and Weiss during that. Also I'm so sick of the "oh this character fell are they dead are they not?" Thing that rt keeps doing. Just have Neo impale her and go. Easy as that. On screen confirmation. I'm sure team RWBY has a fuckload more to crit but I'm done with this topic.

Winter. Bootlicking to the extreme that she casts aside her own sister and doesn't care if her friends die. Nice. No closure at all after she turns back to being a good guy I guess. I'm done with her. Not a whole lot to say.

The aceops are just so dumb. I'm done with them. Everytime they talk about genocide for the good of atlas I'm just rolling my eyes. Just say you're fascists and move on. And idk why the fuck harriet is gonna bomb an empty mantle. Atlas is already falling on it, you literally have no reason to do this. And this plot point is stupid as hell. Next.

Cinder. I'm not sure why they decided to randomly drop her background story into the mix. Like I don't think anyone gives a shit after all the crap she's done. I'm so sick of rt trying to make her some "uwu woe is me" woobie after doing so much shit and killing so many people. Her uwu crying moments are just stupid. Honestly watts is one of my fav characters just for telling her how crappy she is. Next

Hazel. Homie is dumb as hell. He hates Ozpin because his sister died in a mission. Fair enough. Why the fuck would you ever join Grimm Hitler when Grimm are what killed her in the first place??? Like??? Just hate him on your own time dude, jesus. And he is consistently hypocritical and it's so stupidly funny how bad this character is.

"HOW MANY MORE CHILDREN WILL YOU HURT OZPIN" as he beats the piss outta Nora, Ren, RWBY, Oscar, and probably some random five year old on the street while shouting OZPIIIIN to the skies. It also didn't take a whole lot to convince him how stupid he was thank god. His character was so cool in design and in theory but good god he got executed soooo fucking poorly. Kinda glad he's dead just so we don't have to deal with his stupidity. Next.

Emerald. This bitch. I can't. I LOVE how easily rwby just forgave her. It was so stupidly funny. "oh but yang was ready to fight her at first and snatched her weapons" yeah for five fucking minutes. Then came the part where she helped stabilize Penny and gave a half assed speech about switching sides. Meanwhile everyone's just magically forgiving of her like OH THAT EMERALD AHAHAH like she didn't help orchestrate the fall of Beacon, the death of many, including Penny, and all the terrible shit that's gone down. No resentment from RWBY except for my favorite line delivered this volume. It was Weiss's ever so beautiful "SHUT UP" LOL (I play Smite and I love how her VVGQ Quiet voice line sounds the same. So when I heard this line, I thought of Smite and immediately laughed. Kudos to you Weiss.)

Salem. The hound attacked Penny in the mansion... Why? You already established connection with Watts in jail. Did he not tell her "ay she cool with us." And in turn did she not tell him "ay she cool with us don't hit her"? I guess not? Cause the hound and penny shoulda bounced together the second they met up lmao. Other than that, salem's done nothing this volume except try to be scary and get her ass beat by hazel. She could easily just go out in the field with her grimm and blasts some people or SOMETHING GOD so far our main villain is just so boring and unimposing that literally every other villain, including her subordinates, feel more like threats than her.

Now I'll just talk about scenes.

The scene with ambrosius was COATED IN CONVENIENCE. Apparently Ozpin didn't tell the gang about the WinMore button they could just fucking walk to until now because??? Idk. I LOVE how team rwby just assumed that penny would be okay when they took her robot parts out. Realistically she should just be a floating husk of aura and nothingness. Like she never had organs. I don't understand how she's a real person now? Which, by the way, I'm pretty fucking insulted about how they handled that. Why make Penny human? She was already a real girl and accepted by her loved ones. Like shit, she was a character that a LOT of transgirls, myself included, could relate to on a personal level and we LOVED how Ruby handled it in v2. It was cute! It was sweet! She said she was a real girl back then and it made all of our collective kokoros go doki doki. Fun stuff!

But now? It feels like none of that was validated until she got an actual human body. Like damn I wish I could just get my ideal body within seconds. Shit. I've seen and heard a lot of upset from my fellow tgirls about how doodoo that scene was, because it's implying penny wasn't a real girl until after she got her human body and that's probably how most of the rwby fandom is gonna see it too. "oh wow penny's a real girl now!" And just forget Ruby's cute speech in v2. So annoying. Minor nitpick, if she's got the aura of a black man inside of her (her father), and her robot body is gone, why the fuck isn't she black? Like? Idk minor nitpick I guess. But anyways back to ambrosius scene. I love how rwby had the answers for everything within the hours worth of planning they were given by Ironwood's motive. Totes believable. And yet the "one way ticket to vacuo" thing was the simplest shit they could have avoided lmfao. Like THAT is what you trip up on? Not the portals you're trying to make or the assumption that penny lives without her robot parts? Insane. (side note: how did oscar have a flashback to that scene if he wasn't even there?)

And now everyone's favorite scene. Yangs death. Already covered it early I just wanted to add more on. This scene is insane. Like... If they actually go through with killing her (i don't see how she could have survived turning into dust) then roosterteeth is dumber than I gave them credit for. Like... They have to realize the shitstorm they're gonna receive right? First they kill off clover, an lgbt+ coded character. Next is Yang? A main character who is WIDELY loved by all. Apart of their most pandered ship in existence: bees. (Both the ship and the character make them so much money in merch btw so this was stupid from an objective standpoint.) You can't just kill a main character that is heavily lgbt+ coded in THE most popular ship in the show. Like... How dumb can they be? They're gonna lose so many fans at the very least. Sales? Down. Death threats? Way up. It would be astonishing if they weren't up to their necks in shit in backlash by that decision. Bury Your Gays trope strikes again folks. But this time with everyone's favorite! Like I just... Idk that decision was stupid and that scene hardly was given any real pomp or circumstance it deserved. She's a major title character and that scene lasted like a minute lmao. It's gonna be RWBY without the Y. RWB. As in rt is a bunch of rubes for making that decision. A cynical part of me thinks they did that just because they want an excuse to off Neo, another really loved character. (Well if everyone hates her now we can kill her off cause god knows we don't know what to do with her), but I'm not gonna make this about her. I honestly don't know how to feel about this death tbh. On one hand it's shitty and *points to essay above*. On another it lets Blake be her own character for once. We get to see who she is on our own. And we can finally shift gears from The Bees Show featuring Some Plot to RWBY without the Y. But again that scene was done horribly with doodoo writing already explained up above. They're gonna use this as some edgy excuse to have the heroes start killing again or grieve or whatever bullshit shock value.

(now that I think of it tho, Neo shoulda killed yang in v2. How the fuck did Raven know she was finna die again. Lmao)

Anyways, that's my two cents. I'm sure there's so much more I forgot. Love or hate my ramble idc these are just my thoughts. I'm sure I made doodoo arguments at some points so feel free to call me an idiot and point them out. Imma bounce. My fingers fucking hurt lmfao

#rwde #rwby spoilers

[creator-savannah]

The Spark That Lights The Fire

Summary -

Never in your life have you ever thought that you would be transported to Hell.

But here you are standing in Hell, why not cause as many problems as you can? I mean you're already here.

I mean being Isekai'd to another realm without your permission sucks. Maybe you should've taken notes on how to survive an Isekai situation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In which chaotic good MC goes to devildom.

Part of the Chaos At It’s Finest Series

Cross Posted on - AO3 Wattpad

Chapter Two - RAD is Pretty Rad

You fucked up.

No, seriously, you fucked up.

You just insulted the future king of Hell and cut him off multiple times.

"Wait, isn't Lucifer—or was it Satan—the king of Hell?" You say, you know, why stop now? Well, if you don't stop now you might find yourself killed or eradicated if you say one more word from the look on Lucifer's face. It's funny, you would think that would sound like a compliment, but, he looks like he's been insulted.

You look at Satan, and it looks like he's enjoying the look on Lucifer's face. He really does hate him for whatever reason.

You were willing to bet it was identity issues or daddy issues.

You laughed, and looked at Lucifer straight in the eye and said,

"Lord Diavolo, I'm sure this human does not mean it."

Lucifer said, he looked really panicked. He looked in your direction and you could swear that it was trying to obliterate your soul.

"Bold of you to assume I didn't mean it."

Yep… You're so dead.

You could see it, your grave, and written on your grave was;

You didn't think you'd die this early, but, at least you'd die a death no one you know would.

"Here lies, _____ _____.

Reason of death;

Killed because they were too much of an idiot to know when to stop talking.

Their final words were,

'Bold of you to assume I didn't mean it.' "

As you were internally monologuing your probably final moment alive, someone was laughing their ass off. Getting annoyed by the constant laughter—your final moments were supposed to be sad and dramatic goddamnit—you, being the dumbass protagonist that you are, yell,

"HEY! SHUT THE FUCK UP WHILE I'M INTERNALLY MONOLOGUEING MY FINAL MOMENTS!"

Did you even know who you were yelling at? No.

Did you care? Of course not, you were going to die either way.

But, after yelling what you said, you only realize now that the person who was laughing their ass off was no other than, you guessed it, Mr. I'm the demon prince, himself.

Why? Before you die, you wanted to know, why? Why do you keep interrupting him? Even if it's unintentional, you just keep on interrupting him.

"Someone kill me." You say. No point in begging for mercy.

The last thing you expected would happen was laughter. No, not the evil kind, but the kind of laughter you'd get when you get entertained, or when you find something really funny. Or when–

"Ahem, may I?"

First of all, rude. Second of all, is this what Mr. I'm the demon prince, feels like whenever you interrupt him? And who said that? There's no indicator on who said that.

You looked at the man in front of you and saw Lucifer's black and red eyes glint murderously.

"No, no, Lucifer, no need to murder the human." Mr. I'm the demon prince said, wiping off tears from his the side of his eyes.

Are you sure this man wasn't a saint? Like, dude, did you just save me? The person that keeps on interrupting you and being an idiot?

You were confused, there's no way that this man just stopped Lucifer from killing you. Did he want to kill you himself? Because you'd be fine with that. At least you were going to die by the hands of a Full course meal of a man.

Oops- Did you forget to mention that Diavolo was hot as fuck? Like he's hot as Hell. He's a UR+ Man™. The kind of guy in otome games that are always undateable.

Ack! You're rambling, you slap your cheeks and look at the man in front of you.

"(____) are you alright?"

"Yep, I'm fine, totally, super fine, now can we get back to the topic of why I'm here, Mr. I'm the demon prince?" You say, feeling awkward, now that you've just realized how hot Diavolo was.

Wait, did you hear that right? Did you just call him by the nickname you gave him internally?

You were sure that if they didn't kill you, this embarrassment will.

"Mr. I'm the demon prince?" Diavolo said before bursting into laughter again.

First of all, thank you for saying you were perfect, Diavolo, it really boosted your ego. Second of all,

"You human, no, (____), you're really interesting, you know? You're perfect for this exchange program."

He said.

"Exchange program?"

"Ah yes, the exchange program is the reason you are here in Devildom at this very moment."

"But, I didn't apply for any exchange programs?" You asked, confused. You were sure you didn't apply for any exchange programs, they were too expensive for your tastes, and you weren't a genius to even get a scholarship to apply for one.

"Lucifer here will tell you the details, but, before that, how about I formally introduce you to Lucifer? I'm sure you would want to have your question from earlier answered."

Oh, yeah, that question from the beginning, welp, no take-backs now. No matter how idiotic and life-threatening that question was, you still wanted the question answered.

He did that thing you do when you're introducing someone to someone you know and said,

"This is Lucifer, The Avatar of Pride."

You looked to Lucifer, now that Diavolo mentioned it, he had an aura of smugness and self-importance, looking at him felt like you're looking at someone who was way out of your league, or maybe it was something more like what you feel when meeting your superior for the first time.

Even with all of those feelings your feeling right now, nothing could compare to the feeling of wanting to annoy him till he begs for you to stop.

Was that even possible? Probably not, you were sure that if you tried, you might die in the process.

Would that stop you from trying? No, after all, what's life if you don't take risks? Granted, that this idea of yours might kill you, you wanted to see Lucifer throw away his pride at least once.

Before you could plan how you could get Lucifer to beg, Diavolo starts talking.

"He's also the vice-president of the student council and my right-hand man… And not just in title, I assure you."

What was that supposed to mean? Are they gay and in a throuple? If that's the case, then where's the other one? Is Satan the other one? Or, are they secretly gay for each other but Diavolo is engaged to someone so they can't be together, just like in 'I'm Very Gay For My Best Friend But I'm In An Arranged Engagement, And Now I Don't Know What to Do!'

He chuckled, oops, did you miss something? Or, does he have mind-reading powers and currently reading your thoughts?

"Beyond that, he's also my most trusted friend."

That doesn't help! Diavolo, If you could read minds, then are you and Lucifer in a relationship? Diavolo, answer my question, please! You can't just leave me hanging like that!

While you were asking Diavolo in your mind, you suddenly hear Lucifer's voice.

"Flattery will get you no where, Diavolo."

Oof, may we get F in the chat for Diavolo? That's rough buddy, getting your compliments be labeled as flattery, that has never happened totally never happened to you—

Oh wait, it did.

Moving on, you decided to listen to Lucifer explain why the fuck were you here.

"On the behalf of the student body at this great and storied school of ours.."

Wait? Did you miss the whole fucking explanation?

"I offer you the most heartfelt welcome, (____)."

"Wait! Hold on! Why am I here again?" You asked,

"Were you not listening?" He replied, clearly annoyed that his whole explanation was ignored.

"Yeah, yeah, I wasn't listening. Now answer my damn question." You retort, maybe, not listening to the Avatar of Pride A.K.A Mr. I'm the demon prince's right-hand man is something an idiot would do but you knew that you were an idiot, but at least your an idiot with courage.

"Interesting," He says, you wonder if interesting is a word demons often used because you were sure that you've been hearing that word a whole lot ever since you came here, which is maybe an hour or two.

"This one is quite different from Solomon." He said, while wearing something in between a curious smirk and a smug one.

Well, thank you, it probably wasn't every day that Lucifer all-mighty compliments someone but, what can you say, you were different from other humans after all.

Also, who's Solomon? Was He–assuming they're a He, if not you were going to find them and apologize immediately—another human that got kidnapped? Maybe you two could be buddies, the 'We got kidnapped against our will Buddies'.

"And to recap the explanation you, oh so gracefully ignored—he's definitely mad about the ignoring thing, must've wounded his pride—Diavolo believes that we should start strengthening our relationship with both the human world and the Celestial Realm."

Uniting—or strengthening relations of—the three realms? Is that really what the future demon king should be thinking about? That's… Oddly peaceful, you would think he would want to destroy your world—or realm—not uniting the three realms, but, who were you to judge, you weren't a ruler, and maybe, not every demon wasn't all 'I want to corrupt you mwuhahaha.'

"As a first step towards this goal, we've instituted an exchange program, two of our students are in the human world, and two are in the Celestial Realm."

'Uh huh, aight, got it, continue' you think to yourself, imagining yourself taking notes.

"And we're welcoming four students to our school: two from your world and two from the Celestial Realm. Got it?"

You nod your head, thinking about who else got dragged into this. Two humans, that would be you and the Solomon guy, and two angels, huh, two angels.. Maybe they could tell you what sins you've committed to get dragged into this weird exchange program.

"So, basically, I've been chosen to participate in this weird exchange program of his?" You signal to Diavolo, who was smiling and being cheery and stuff, not the kind of things you'd expect from a demon prince.

"Yes, you are our newest exchange student. Your period of stay will be one year, you will do everything expected of an exchange student, such as tasks you will receive at RAD. After the one year is over, you will write a 20'000 word paper on your stay here in Devildom." He said, as if all the things he had listed were extremely easy to accomplish.

"I have many things to ask and say but first, what the fuck is RAD?" You say, just wanting to go back home and pretend this never happened.

"RAD is the shortened name for Royal Academy of Diavolo, and on the topic of RAD, we are currently in the very heart of it. This is the assembly hall, this us where we officers of the student council hold our meetings and conduct our business."

Never mind where you were in this RAD school, you wanted to know who the fuck thought it was a good idea to shorten the name to RAD. You suspected that Diavolo changed the academy's name to include his name to shorten it into that.

"Ok, thank you for your explanation, now, I don't want to participate in this exchange program." You say, you wanted to be as direct as possible, you did not want to be here.

"Why?" Diavolo raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, I don't know?! Maybe because I have a life? Maybe because this stupid exchange program isn't going to help me get a job? They would probably laugh at my face if I showed them that I attended this exchange program? It won't help me to feed myself after I go back!" You snap, you were tired of this bullshit, you might've joked around a lot, but, it doesn't change the fact that this exchange program doesn't help you in any way.

"Ah, I see... Then, how about I make sure you could secure a stable life in the human world after this exchange program is over?" He offers, he didn't look cheery anymore, he looked calculative, as if he actually thinking about this seriously.

"How?" You say, skeptical of his offer.

"I have my ways." He says, vaguely, very mysterious.

"Then, how about food, shelter, clothes, and other necessary stuff?"

"I've already planned where you will be staying for the exchange program, that is, if you decide to join this exchange program." He said, you know.. This Diavolo that you're seeing was different from the cheery one you were interrupting and calling names, this Diavolo was calculative, and serious. Maybe, you underestimated him due to his cheery attitude from before.

"…Then, how about my safety?" You ask, you weren't really all that excited to go to a school with human-eating demons, you needed some kind of reassurance that someone is going to be looking after you, after all, you can't even take care of yourself without stressing yourself.

"What do you take me for, a fool? Of course, you will be safe during this exchange program, no harm shall be placed upon you, if someone decides to harm you, we of the student council will take care of it.

"I will even give you a monthly allowance, how about that? Will you join the exchange program?"

"What's the catch?" You say, this offer that he was making was way too sketchy for your tastes. You did not want to be in debt to him, after all, he could simply say that the price for this exchange program was your soul, and you were pretty attached to your soul and, don't want to give it up, yet.

"Nothing, I just want you to join this exchange program." He says, alright, just to be sure,

"Pinky promise?" You held up your pinky for him to hook his own on, he looked confused. Has this man never heard of pinky promises?

"Pinky promise? Is that something you humans do?" He asked, nevertheless, he still hooked his pinky in yours.

"What a weird tradition." He said, after that he laughed. You've just noticed that his laugh was like a dad's after making a dad joke.

"Ok, now that we've pinky promised, you better keep the promise! Or else I'll cut off your pinky myself!" You jokingly threaten, you never expected to ever do a pinky promise with a demon prince, but, here you were.

"Of course." He smiled, a smile that could warm your cold heart in a second. And it did, you felt a warm feeling envelop you, sending warmth to every part of your body.

It was a nice feeling, it was like you're body was back home, but, it wasn't.

After Diavolo promised to secure your life in the future while making sure you live comfortably here in Devildom for a year, you ask for a pen and a few papers.

Lucifer was hesitant to give you his pen and opted to give you some papers, while Satan gave you a pen that was obviously Lucifer's.

You wrote down a contract—while also making sure there aren't any loopholes that could lead you to giving up your soul—and also wrote down the deed to your soul, for future purposes.

You signed your name and gave it to Diavolo, he scanned the paper and signed his name on it. Now that, that's over with, you decide to do something that might've sounded like a funny idea but be quite dangerous.

"Hey, Lord Diavolo," You say, making sure you added the 'lord' part, you didn't want to die after managing to secure a stable future.

"Yes? Is there anything you need, (____)?" He answered, unaware of what you were going to do.

"Make sure it's quick, you've already wasted Lord Diavolo's time for too long." Lucifer said, geez, sure, you were going to make it quick.

"I have something to give you."

"Well, I don't see anything in this contract that you were supposed to give something to me."

You give a piece of paper to Diavolo, he looked confused.

"Well, what is it?"

"The deed to my soul." You say, smiling as if the deed to your soul meant nothing.

"Well, I didn't expect that but I'll gladly accept it."

"Lord Diavolo, nO—"

~Author’s Note~

Hello everyone! I hope you all are having a nice day or night. Sorry for not updating for like 2 weeks, I had to catch up on my modules and stuff. I hope you guys enjoyed this long chapter, sorry if it wasn't all that funny, I don't really have a good sense of humor when it comes to making things funny. The final joke is inspired by a comic I read but I can't find it, so if anyone knows please tell me so I can credit them.

Also thank you to @yaboyistired-obeyme for posting some dialogues from the game and thank you to @meanduck for threatening to steal my kneecaps, that helped me a lot since it gave me a reason to actually write this chapter.

Sorry for this long author's note, and have a good day or night.

[Next Chapter} [Last Chapter]

P.S if I receive 5 comments or asks I'll update in a week. (not this week or the next, I have to prepare for a test)

Again, please tell me if there are any grammar mistakes.

#obey me #obey me! #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me lucifer #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me MC #obey me mc #obey me! lucifer #obey me! mammon #obey me! leviathan #obey me! levi #obey me! satan #obey me! asmodeus #obey me! asmo #obey me! beel #obey me! beelzebub #obey me! belphegor #obey me! belphie #obey me! diavolo #obey me fic

[helaintoloki]

Season of the Witch | Michael Langdon

chapter three: The Witch is Back

masterlist

pairing: Michael Langdon x witch!reader

warnings: language, angst, violence, graphic descriptions, adult content, deception, toxic relationships, abuse, death, witchcraft, satanism and all that other good ahs stuff

notes: lowkey got emotional writing this bc i wish cordelia was my mom and i’m stupid. and small shout out to @gx-nji & @ateliefloresdaprimavera for all of their love and support for this fic! <3

summary: what exactly is hell? and who are these strange women? and why is y/n not dead?

Hell was an odd place for y/n. Perhaps her father-in-law had taken mercy upon her poor soul as she couldn’t find one single thing wrong with it. No blistering winds and scorching fires, no little red man with horns, no screams of agony, and no suffering.

She wasn’t sure where she was. The only surroundings around her were pure white, so pure it made her eyes ache if she looked upon it for too long. But it was quiet, the air was cool, the only piece of furniture to be found was a comfy bed, and she felt at peace. Perhaps she wasn’t in hell at all... But if that was the case, then where the hell was she?

“Michael?” Y/N called out, her voice bouncing off the walls and echoing back to her. “Michael!”

“Y/N!”

“Michael?!”

“Help us!”

“Hello?! Who’s there?” Y/N called back, fear bubbling up within her stomach. She felt nauseous, the panic clawing its way through her heart as her fingers began to tingle and twitch in fear.

“Y/N!” The voice called, clearer now, ear shattering and in despair.

“W-Who are you?!” She cried. “Show yourself!”

“Save us! Save us, please,” the voices wailed.

“What do you want from me?!” She demanded, and she began to cry.

The walls drip red, hands smeared across the once clean white as multiple screams echo throughout the empty room and a chorus of bangs pound against the walls. They come in various directions, various voices, various suffering. The walls are closing in now, and she can’t breathe.

“Stop it!” She screeches, hands slamming over her ears and eyes closing shut. The screams grow louder, the pounding of the walls crescendoing until it‘s too much. Her heart was aching, lungs ready to explode. This was her hell. This was how she’d spend eternity.

When it seemed it couldn’t get any louder, the screams stopped, and the only sounds to fill the room were her quiet sobs.

“Please,” she whimpered, figure cowering against the red walls as she sunk to the ground and huddled against one of the corners.

“Y/N,” a voice, gentle and soothing, whispered. She could feel the cool air of someone’s breath against her ear, causing her to gasp. “Y/N. It’s time to wake up.”

And everything went dark.

~~~

Cordelia watched with tears in her eyes as her daughter rose from the dead with a gasp and a chorus of violent coughs. Beside y/n awoke her fellow sisters, and Cordelia couldn’t help but feel the love for her coven and hope for a second chance at salvation swell in her heart.

“Surprise bitch,” Madison smirked as she kneeled before Mallory. “I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me.”

“My dearest y/n,” Cordelia quivered, a gentle hand resting on her cheek as she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the young girl’s forehead. “It’s been so long. I thought he’d taken you away from me forever.”

“W-Who are you?” Y/N whimpered, flinching away from her touch as she glanced around frantically at the new faces before her. “Where’s Michael?”

“We couldn’t find your batshit crazy boyfriend,” Madison quipped. “You really need to learn to be picky about who you give your pussy to.”

“Michael isn’t my boyfriend, he’s my husband,” y/n corrected with a frown, and Cordelia felt sick to her stomach.

“Oh, you poor dear,” Myrtle cooed. “He really did do a number on you.”

“What are you talking about?!” Y/N insisted, rising from her spot on the ground and immediately growing nauseated. Cordelia held out her arms to hold the poor girl but y/n refused. She felt sick to her stomach, her head was spinning and her mind couldn’t wrap around anything that was presented to her.

“Being revived from the dead surely takes a toll on the mind and spirt, doesn’t it? I think the perfect antidote to stoke the blood and speed up the recovery process would be a spicy gazpacho andaluz,” Myrtle smiled.

“You think the kitchen here has a spice rack?” Madison retorted, and Cordelia shook her head.

“We put your sisters, Coco and Mallory, under an identity spell to keep them safe. But you... my sweet daughter,” Cordelia smiled sadly, reaching out and gently moving a stray strand of hair out of her face, “Michael took you away before I could protect you. I failed you, but I won’t let it happen again.”

“Sisters? N-No, I... I was an orphan. I am an orphan. I only ever had Michael.”

“Can somebody please just tell me what’s going on?!” Mallory questioned with frustration in her tone.

“You all are sisters, all part of the coven, all witches,” Myrtle stated.

“Witches?!” Y/N cried. “I-I don’t have any...”

And then it hit her. The dreams, the blurry memories, the incident with Mallory. They were all connected, they had to be. And when y/n looked at the woman in front of her again, gazed upon her face and took in her features, she realized.

“You’re the woman from my dreams,” y/n whispered, hesitantly reaching to touch the woman’s face in front of her in fear that she’d disappear just like the dreams. But when y/n rested her hands on her cheeks, tears immediately began to fall. “Cordelia.”

“I never stopped looking for you,” the woman whispered, her own tears shedding. “Never stopped thinking of you. You were my whole world, my sweet little witch.”

“I... I see your face every night,” y/n sniffled, a sad smile on her face. “I always felt like a part of me was missing and now I... I’ve found it.”

“Okay, this is sweet and all,” Madison interrupted, “but we have serious issues to discuss. Like how to defeat Michael, for instance.”

“Defeat him? I don’t want to defeat him,” Mallory stuttered.

“Leave me out of it,” Dinah butted, chiming in for the first time since being raised from the dead. “I haven’t promised anything, I haven’t signed any contracts, no disclaimers, nothing. I don’t owe you anything and I’m not here to defeat anyone.”

“Yeah right, as if you could ever defeat anyone with your backwards voodoo shit,” Madison scoffed.

“How can any of you defeat me when I’ve already won?” A voice boomed, and all women turned to see Michael at the top of the stairs smiling smugly, accompanied by his right hand Miss Mead. His arrogant demeanor faltered slightly when he saw his bride standing beside the woman he loathed the most.

“Y/N,” Michael cooed gently. “My beloved, step away from that woman right now.”

“N-No,” y/n protested, nervously clinging to Cordelia’s arm for support.

“No?” Michael repeated, his patience already growing thin. He scoffed. “Little lamb, you know not to disobey me. Now come here right now.”

“Fuck you,” y/n spat, and it felt good. No longer did he have total control over her mind, body, and soul, no longer could he manipulate and degrade her, punish and use her. She didn’t feel like kissing the ground he walked anymore, didn’t feel like pleasing him, and she didn’t feel like submitting to him anymore. His spell had been broken. Michael Langdon no longer had control over y/n. “I’m staying right here with my sisters, the ones you took away from me.”

“Perhaps you haven’t noticed, dearest y/n,” Michael spat, venom in his voice as he uttered her name, “but you don’t have a choice. Have you seen the state of the world? I’m the only one who can provide for you.”

“The state of the world is almost as bad as your dinner jacket,” Myrtle retaliated, “but at least the world can be saved.”

“By you?” Michael teased.

“By all of us,” Cordelia declared, hand reaching for y/n’s in solidarity.

“Hey, get the wax out of your ears, I’m here to watch,” Dinah reminded.

“Well I’m not,” Coco huffed, marching towards Michael but faltering slightly under his menacing gaze. “Just don’t let me die again okay? The first time really sucked.”

And y/n, still trying to keep up with her new surroundings and new findings, held her head high despite how hot Michael’s burning gaze felt against her skin. He’d taken everything away from her, hidden her true self and turned her into his little pet, taken advantage of everything she was.

Not anymore.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

tag list: @ticklish-leafy-plant @gx-nji @anacerta @bluebirdbts @heda-mikaelson @redlovett @fuck-yeah-bruno-buccerati @ateliefloresdaprimavera @quechulitaaa @theeonlyroman

#american horror story #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x witch!reader #michael langdon fic #ahs fic #ahs apocalypse #ahs coven #cordelia #witch #season of the witch

[justjessame]

Babysitting Butcher Chapter 23

I was almost surprised by the ease that Billy moved through the country club dining room, almost but I recalled that he’d bribed one of the waiters before the auction so he’d clearly been inside the building before. The confidence radiating off of him, even as the maitre d’ gave him a look of disgust at his lack of coat and tie, well he had A coat, just not what the regular diners would have worn, Billy’s smile held. He shook his head when offered one of the ‘just in case’ options that the snooty host suggested.

“Veronica’s parents have seen me before, just like this, I’d rather not play pretend,” a curt nod, and the man sniffed at the rebuke. “If it makes your panties unbunch,” he leaned closer, forcing the other man to lean back, “we probably ain’t gonna be here for long. Prior engagement, and whatnot.” I was biting my lip, the maitre d’ looked like he was praying for the likelihood of us turning around and leaving NOW, but seeing Billy unmoving, he shut his eyes to ask for strength instead. And then he opened them, straightened his back further and stalked to the table my parents sat waiting for us at.

As we followed, I whispered that I was confused. When Billy looked down at me, our progress not pausing, I looked up at him from beneath my eyelashes and said he said he wasn’t interested in playacting, which made him shrug. “I guess I’m confused because you promised me a fling with ‘bad cop’ and now you’re saying you don’t want to,” biting my pouting lip, I was rewarded with the flare of his nostrils and the heat of his hand on my lower back as he leaned closer to me.

“Not gonna put on a fucking act for the parents, Veronica, but when we get to the house?” His voice, just as quiet as mine was a rough growl. “All bets are off.”

Shit. Maybe teasing him backfired. I expected him to be as undone by the idea of dessert as I was, and yet he looked as unruffled as ever, and I was twitching with need. Fuck.

My dad stood when we got to the table, my mom stayed seated as her lips thinned at the sight of Billy’s outfit. Too bad, I thought he was gorgeous in his flamboyant shirt, the longer than necessary coat, those damn jeans of his, and his half tied boots. If she really had issues with it, we could always leave. Now. And I’d make sure that he was out of the clearly offensive clothing as soon as my door shut behind us. I considered making that offer as Billy held my chair for me, and when his fingers brushed my bare neck and REALLY wanted to suggest it.

Once Dad and Billy sat, after the host walked away to leave us with our menus, silence reigned. Billy’s hand touched my knee that was bared as my skirt rode up during my sitting down, and I licked my lip to steady the urge to toss the menu and straddle him. Jesus.

“Well?” I broke the silence. Mostly I wanted whatever was coming to come and go. And then Billy and I could go and cum, if you know what I mean? My mom was still eyeing Billy like she was trying to figure out what I could possibly see in him, and I came close to going into incredibly graphic detail of ALL of Billy’s most impressive attributes. Most of them didn’t even involve parts of his body. Dad was looking at his menu with carefully trained indifference.

“The duck sounds delicious,” he offered, and I rolled my eyes. Yes, of course, Dad. Let’s focus on eating Daffy and NOT on the ridiculous reason Mom insisted on dinner. “I think I’ll have that with the-” he literally sat and went over his entire order. All four courses. Including dessert. Shit.

“While that’s riveting,” I deadpanned, I shot a look at my mom. “I’m fairly certain this lovely dinner wasn’t demanded just so we could hear how succulent the duck sounds.” If I thought my mom’s lips were thin when we arrived, I was almost impressed by just how fucking thin they could get. “Well?” Again, this time fully directed at the woman who theoretically pushed me out of her nether regions.

“Honestly, Veronica.” I had to hold back another eye roll, and Billy was helping by applying not so subtle pressure to my knee. “First we’ll order dinner, and then-”

“I’d much rather get whatever issues that caused you to infiltrate Billy’s cell phone number to get out and over with, maybe then I’ll have an appetite for Donald.” Pretty sure I even managed a smile at the end. Maybe I looked pleasant, but I had doubts by the way my mom was clutching the stem of her glass.

Pursing her lips, which made them marginally wider than they had been, my mom studied me. “I had thought that we spent ample time raising you properly, Veronica, but perhaps I was incorrect.” Sweet, disappointment and we’d only sat down moments ago. “The ‘issues’ that forced me to-” she looked like she was sucking a pickle with how distasteful she found having to find out Billy’s contact information. “Returning a phone call or a text message,” how did she manage to make texting sound like signing a pact with Satan? “Shouldn’t be beyond you.”

“Oh, it isn’t beyond me.” I felt oddly relaxed, of course that could have been due to Billy’s fingers sliding up and down my inner thigh. “In fact, today I returned several missed calls and I even managed to text three people. Hell,” Mom’s eyes narrowed as I leaned forward as though sharing a deep dark secret. “I EVEN managed to send a couple emails.” Take that, Mommy Dearest.

“Veronica,” it was my dad, and a glance told me that he was in the running for the most narrow eyes in the family challenge. “You know very well what your mother is saying.”

“I do,” I agreed. Taking a beat to lick my lip again, since Billy’s finger was getting dangerously close to the top of my stockings. “I have to wonder, however, if the two of you understand that not only am I an adult, but I also have complete autonomy. I am actually, by the grace of the country we live in, given full rights to decide who I answer and who I ignore. And that includes the two of you.” I shifted in my chair, letting my legs fall a tiny bit further apart. Even if he was being strangely silent, Billy was giving his own type of support and damned if it wasn’t helping.

The waiter came then, and Dad was firmly locked and loaded with his order. Mom gave hers begrudgingly, then Billy who I was shocked knew what he wanted since I thought he’d been diverted by diverting me. When it was my turn, I flipped open my menu and ordered my own meal being as clear and fast as my three dining companions.

Once the waiter was out of earshot, my mom’s focus returned to me. “And this autonomy that you’re so proud of, you are aware that it comes with a high price.” Ah, my inheritance. I smirked, because once I’d learned this disaster of a face off was coming, I’d done what I was more than capable of doing. I researched. “Are you willing to pay such a heavy fee?” She looked so smug, so sure of her hold over me, that I almost felt sorry for her.

Instead of answering her, I turned to Billy. Leaning closer to him, but letting my voice carry in a stage whisper across the table, I smiled as he played along and tilted his own head closer. “My mom thinks she owns me, all because of the dangling promise of my future inheritance.” Billy’s fingers were still toying with me, but his eyes were locked on mine. “Which is hilarious, since I actually came into the bulk of my money when I turned eighteen, five years after my LAST grandparent died. She forgets that I used part of it to pay for college, a VERY small part of it.” I could see him fighting a laugh. “Not only that,” I leaned closer, wanting so badly to just kiss the living fuck out of him instead of dealing with this nonsense. “But Dad took over my granddad’s company, and he hasn’t added a SINGLE client to it since. I have a feeling,” a glance at my parents showed me they were RIVETED and appalled at the information I’d gathered in preparation for what they assumed would be their heavy handed negotiations. “I’m in better financial state than they are, but they STILL insist on paying for my membership to this fucking hellhole.” I kissed him then, too happy to hold back, because I knew with that parting shot I’d done it. I won.

Billy Butcher didn’t disappoint. Once my lips brushed his, he took over, moving his errant hand to join the other cupping my face and taking the kiss we BOTH wanted, audience be damned. And as our tongues touched, I vaguely heard a throat clearing, but couldn’t have stopped tasting the man I loved if I wanted to, and I truly didn’t want to.

 Our dinner didn’t last much longer. We did ask for our meals to be wrapped up so we could take them with us, after all, I hated the club, but their food was amazing. It took no time to get the beautiful, heavy bag of food, and I didn’t glance at my very angry parents as we walked away. I didn’t blush when Billy’s hand went farther south as we weaved through the tables filled with the snooty assholes that my parents claimed as friends. I didn’t pay attention to the whispers, or the looks, because all I could focus on was getting Billy home and having dessert. Hours and hours of dessert, and then once that craving was satisfied, maybe we’d have dinner.

#Billy Butcher x ofc #the boys #mention of smut #alternate universe

[werevulvi]

Writing this text led me to several important realisations, suddenly crying my heart out, and then feeling a lot better. So I felt it’s important to post. Also I’ve got a question towards the end, for anyone who knows how to use tumblr better than I do. Sudden internalised lesbophobia thought of today, me to myself: "Even if there was a cure for homosexuality, I would never want it..." "...wait... I said 'cure' didn't I?" "Oh, shit. Well if that ain't a freudian slip, I don't know what possibly could be."

That's... my doubled-sided coin in a nut shell. Trapped in one single sentence. I don't actually want for my sexuality to change, even if that was possible (which was what I thought I meant to say), cause I'm happier with other women than I could ever even imagine being with men let alone was, like really a hell of a lot happier with women and I want to nurture and savour that, and I live in one of the most pro-lgbt countries in the world... but I'm still struggling to view it in a fully healthy light. My dumb brain still whispers that it goes against nature, that it's somehow sick. Why do I care? Sitting by a computer obviously goes against nature too, and praying to Satan while wearing a hooded black robe in a dark candle lit room at midnight is often considered "sick" by some people too, and kinda for the same dumb reasons (meaning a harmless something that just goes against people’s personal beliefs), but apparently I have no moral quarrels with those sort of activities. But clearly my women-loving activities, whether romantic or sexual, keep grinding my gears.

Like... maybe that's also intrusive thoughts? Aside from my "regular" sexual intrusive thoughts, I mean. Cause really what else is up with those random "voices" whispering homophobic shit to me? Of course they're intrusive thoughts. I can't believe I didn't realise that before. I'm such an idiot! Oh well, better late than never, here we go again *pats my own shoulder*

However, I had a good conversation today with an acquaintance who might become a friend. He's a gay man, somewhere in his late 40's, very sweet, humble yet straight-forward and kinda blunt, and talks really a lot. He hosts "rainbow cafe" events in the only city on this small island around once or twice a month, which is casual gathering for lgbt people and allies. Sometimes, it's just me and him, because no one else attended. As was last evening, just he and I, and we ended up talking about everything from David Bowie to homophobia in muslim countries, and from to "Will and Grace" to his ex/on-off boyfriend and my girlfriend. I always love hearing him talk of his ex boyfriend. They seem worlds apart yet very understanding and caring of each other, and casually bickering like they've known each other forever. It's clear to me that they're still very good friends. It was perhaps a seemingly simple, just friendly conversation, but it felt so good. Like... just fucking finally having a normal conversation with another gay person about gay stuff irl. I don't know why but that makes me cry right now. Fuck, I just need to feel normal and not just be told that I'm normal. Cause there is a big difference. And during that conversation with him I felt normal. He didn't say it, not even once, but he made me feel normal by simply treating me as if I was. That's it... that clicked something within me. I don't cry often, so when I end up bawling like that... I KNOW it's important. Cause it only happens that I cry when a feeling is so strong I can't possibly bottle it. Instead it explodes. Now I feel a hell of a lot better... wow, that was cleansing! Also I finally managed to tell him about my detransition, which I had not been able to muster before, and then I've met him during those kind of cafe events some 5-10 times by now for a whole year. But now it was easy. I felt considerably more confident than ever, which made me far more conversational than I've been in a long time, and his reaction to that was... he seemed unphased.

Not shocked, not clenching his gut in discomfort at the thought of the horror I must be going through. He seemed to understand it's a difficult process, but didn't make a big deal out of it. In that sense too, he made me feel normal. It's not about me being normal, just feeling it. If even just for rare moments here and there. I've... never felt that way before. That's definitely worth crying over, and it's entirely connected to my internalised lesbophobia. Cause I think with my lesbian discovery, so soon after my detransition, it felt like insult to injury. Like I'll never be a normal woman at any point, no matter how far I detransition, cause I'll always be a lesbian woman. And I think that's the thorn that I didn't even know I had in my side, until it was forcibly pulled out. I no longer doubt I'm a lesbian. I haven't for the past few months. I haven't felt a single doubt about it since my girlfriend and I first got physical, and I mean it. I've felt and known sincere certainty about my sexuality ever since. Not just that I love her, and am very attracted to her, but that I just can't possibly feel that sorta thing towards any male. No man could ever make me wet by just kissing me, but she can. And I know why. It's as clear as the sun is bright. I think unfortunately though... the more sure I get that I really am a lesbian, through and through, the more scared of it I become. It's as if the more sure of it I become, the more inevitable it feels. Question is, why do I treat my homosexuality as some kind of inevitable doom? I read too much crap. No doubt that all the gut-wrenching homophobia that keeps popping up in my tumblr feed is getting to me, feeding my fantasies of corrective rape and drilling thoughts of it being "unnatural" and "wrong" into my already fragile and tormented skull. If only I could filter blog contents somehow without unfollowing or blocking anyone. Cause I want to read some 90% of the content of the radfem blogs I follow, but fuck it whenever I get face fucked with another post of absolutely vicious homophobia (especially when targetting lesbians specifically) I lose my ability to distance myself and I feel like utter and absolute shit. It sucks my ptsd-brain into a vacuum of impending darkness. I get (extra) vulgar when I'm upset. Sorry not sorry, it's a coping mechanism. Trust me, it lightens my mood, and that's the purpose of it.

Or in simpler language: I get a little triggered. Or like... badly triggered, but pushing it aside, pretending everything is fine and dandy, but my insides keep screaming and tossing about.

And I can't keep exposing myself to that, just hoping I'll get desensitised soon enough. I guess tumblr has some kind of function to filter out tags that I could try, but then you guys and gyns don't exactly always tag your shit. Sure it's good to expose homophobes' bigotry so more people will know about, absolutely. But I don't need any more exposure of that, thank you I've had enough. So oh well, oh well. Maybe I could create a second account for following blogs I know are crammed with such nasty shit I can't possibly avoid without making too big of a sacrifice, and keep my main blog clean from that, but means unfortunately unfollowing a lot. Which I don't wanna. Also I really don't have the spoons to create a second account and filter through all the 500 or so blogs that I follow. I just simply don't.

I don't fucking know. But that crap is really, really getting to me and I know I need to take some distance from all the horrid homophobia in the world, or at least a damn break from it. ~Cause I've got a feeling~ ~that it's stunting my healing~ I'm in such a strange mood tonight. My dark humour is coming to my defense. It's late, I need to sleep but I'm hyperactive due to being over-tired. Cause sometimes my brain just does the opposite to what it’s supposed to. It needs me to finish this first. But anyhows. If anyone's got any advice on how to avoid specific(-ally nasty) tumblr content without unfollowing (people who don't fucking tag their nasty posts), that'd be great. Desk top, not app, btw. I mean especially the endlessly big posts of more and more people adding cited quotes from TRA's such as "lesbians who don't like dick should be raped by girl dick, killed, gutted, turned into sex slaves, forcibly impregnated, yadda yadda" you know the drill. And oh it drills... If in any case a clarification was necessary.

#internalised lesbophobia #internalised homophobia #realisations #feeling normal #intrusive thoughts #lesbian #radfem #hyperactive due to being overtired

[theangstyantichrist-blog]

Oh, If You Only Knew (Michael Langdon x Reader)

plot: “Sojourn” Michael crashes at your place instead of the lady who takes him in. You only have one bed so he has to sleep with you; He gets a little close and he wakes up with a unexpected hard-on up against your ass

warnings: Dom!Michael, Fem!Reader, Blowjob/Face-fucking, Choking, Unprotected Sex, Sexual Intercourse, Rough Sex, Spanking, Cumshot

word count: 1.7K

You never were one to fit in, as cliche as it sounds. You didn’t really have many friends and you barely spoke with your family ever since you began practicing Satanism. If someone would have asked you a year ago if you felt like your life was pretty good, your answer would have been fuck no. During the earlier years of your life when you used to live with your parent(s) they force fed you all the Catholic bullshit constantly, yet seemingly nothing good ever happened to you. Subject to what your parents believed, being a follower of Satan had some serious perks. First, you were able to live in a pretty nice home all to yourself with all the essentials like a pool and hot tub out back and the most advanced technologies Satan had to offer. Plus your sex life wasn’t too bad either for only being in the world 18 years. All sorts of celebrities would end up in your bed one way or another, but oh, if you only knew what was to come. One night,you were preparing to attend another black mass, which wasn’t a lot to ask for all the glory you’d been soaking in over the past year ever since you sold your soul to the devil.

You threw on a flowy black dress that was a bit too short for your taller figure but you knew He wouldn’t care. Leaving through your garage door, you were still gawking at how nice your car was [imagine it to be whatever car you want]. When you finally drove down the alleyway and parked it was almost time to start. You shuffled in along with some other young believers and took a seat towards the back. You turned over and saw a guy around your age, but you’ve never seen him before. You couldn’t possibly have missed a face as handsome as his. He seemed a bit off kilter, dirty, and his clothing was torn in a lot of places. He had tears welling in his eyes and you felt for him. I’ve been there, you thought. The Black chorus began singing in Latin that you still couldn’t interpret even after a whole year of attending these masses. A bucket was being passed around and you threw a couple dollars in, and then handed it to him.

“I don’t have any money right now,” he said, looking up at you.

“Or any food, from the looks of it,” you said feeling bad for the poor guy, “How long has it been since you ate?”

He sunk his head into his palm and sighed, “What’s it to you?”

“Just trying to help out a fellow believer.” You said with a smile. He smiled back but still seemed unwell.

“Hey, you know what?” You began, “You can come stay with me if you’d like, I only live a streets away and I make a killer lasagna.”

He took a moment to wipe away his tears on his sleeve and answered, “That’s actually really nice of you.”

When the service ended, you walked side by side to where your car was parked. When both of you were finally situated you began the short drive to your house. I am such a dumbass, you thought. You couldn’t believe you never introduced yourself as well as ask for this mysterious guy’s name.

“I’m y/n by the way,” you threw out, “and you are?”

“Michael,” he replied, not giving any details or background about his life and who he truly is.

“Sooo why exactly did you just magically show up here in the dank streets of Los Angeles?” you questioned, “More specifically attending a black mass.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I can ask you the same thing,” Michael said sharply.

“Hey I asked first!” you whined, cause the curiosity you had was eating you up.

“My father told me I am not his son and abandoned me, and my mother attempted to kill me.” Michael explained with sadness and anger showing through his bright blue orbs.

“Fuck that, my parents suck too but they never went that far,” you replied, “Well you’ve got me now so I hope that counts for something.”

Those words put a smile on Michael’s face which made you very happy as well. Even though you consider yourself a Satanist, you still had a big heart. You pulled into your driveway, parked the car, and Michael followed behind up to your front door. You felt around your purse until you touched the cool metal of your pentagram keychain, and used it to unlock your house.

“Michael, the bathroom is upstairs to your left. I will get dinner started and bring you some clean clothes,” you told him, “It should be done as soon as your out of the shower, you’re a little dirty.”

Michael shook his head and laughed sarcastically, “Ha-ha, real funny.”

Once all the ingredients were put together you popped the lasagna in the oven and head upstairs quickly to find something for Michael to wear. You went to your dresser, opened the drawer and got out one of your bigger bed shirts. You loved the comfort of men’s clothing so sometimes you bought them to wear around the house. Unfortunately, you didn’t really have any pants that would fit Michael, so you had to give up your boxers you typically wore to bed. You went back down the stairs to check on the food and it was ready. That boy must be starving, you thought.

“Speak of the devil,” you said, “No pun intended.”

You finished up dinner and he kept thanking you profusely, but honestly, you didn’t mind being with Michael one bit. After, you cleaned up the table, you grabbed his hand and led Michael to your room. Michael sat down on your neatly made bed.

“I’ll be right back, just need to get changed and ready for bed,” you said, “Hope you don’t mind sharing a bed, I don’t really have anyone else living with me so there was no need for other beds.”

Since Michael had your boxer shorts, you stuck with wearing a loose t-shirt and some skimpy underwear. As you walked back in the room, Michael was already fast asleep, and snoring lightly through his soft pink lips. You climb in bed as quietly as you could, being careful not interrupt his sleep. When you finally fell asleep beside him, dirty thoughts about Michael ran through your head.

－

You noticed something hard pressing against your ass. Your tired eyes fluttered open to see something a bit shocking. Michael was grinding against you in his sleep and his breathing was sporadic and heavy. You felt yourself getting aroused too, it was almost sinful, the two of you. Still in mid-grind you increased the friction by pushing your body against him. Still not waking him up, you decided to pull down his boxers, seemingly against your better judgement. His dick was so big and restrained from boxers that it hit his lower stomach. If you’re being honest, he was so much bigger than you expected. You grabbed his cock and rubbed the tip, spreading around his precum. Michael stirred and opened his eyes slowly.

“Well, goodmorning, sweetheart.” Michael groaned.

“I hope this is okay.” You replied with butterflies in your stomach, “I’ve fucking wanted you since I laid eyes on you.”

“Fuck, yes. More than okay.” Michael’s breath hitched.

You then pulled the boxers down a bit further and placed your mouth on the tip. Michael bucked his hips to further his cock into your mouth and grunted. He stood up by the side of the bed as a way to better the pleasure your mouth gave him. Michael pulled off his shirt, well in this case yours, and tossed it to the other side of the room. You bit your bottom lip harder than you meant to because man, is he a snack. That being your cue, you removed your shirt, revealing your already aroused nipples because who wears bras to bed. Especially, if there happens to be a guy in your bed and a chance of sex. As soon as Michael saw your bare chest, he did this incredibly sexy thing with his tongue and you leaned forward hungrily for a kiss. Michael grabbed the side of your face, practically begging to fuck you. The two of you broke the kiss and you once again attached your lips to his dripping cock and swirled your tongue in all the right places. As you bobbed your head up and down, you took the rest of it with your hand. Unexpectedly, Michael began thrusting and fucking your mouth, motioning for you to go deeper and making you gag slightly due to his above average size. You could tell because of this that he hadn’t had any action, if any at all, for a long time. He vocalized his pleasure very audibly, and you were glad you seemed to be doing a good enough job. Michael tugged at your hair hinting that you can stop now. He had other things he’d rather do to you.

“Flip around, I want to see that lovely ass of yours that I’m now so very fond of,” Michael demanded.

Michael placed a very firm slap onto your ass, making you yelp from the mixture pain and pleasure. He lined himself up with your entrance and didn’t bother to start things off slow. Taking you from behind, he gave it to you long and hard. Moans flowed from your lips louder than ever before. His palm smacked across your ass again, this time being a little harder than the first. They’re definitely bound to leave marks. Michael pulled out for a moment and switched positions, leaving him on top and you on the bottom. Quickly and immediately, he was back inside of you again. He wrapped his ring-clad fingers around your throat squeezing it as he continued pounding into you. Your breath hitched in your throat and your stomach twisted, knowing you were near your breaking point. Apparently Michael was close too, this being evident since his thrusts were becoming sloppier. Your hands gripped your bed sheets tightly and you moaned so loud from your orgasm that the neighbors definitely could hear you, but you honestly couldn’t care less. Michael pulled out, ready for his release and you sat yourself up to look at him in all of his antichrist glory. He released his cum onto your chest and a bit of it marked the bottom of your chin.

“Holy fuck,” You said, short of breath, “You can stay as long as you want, Michael.”

Tags: @icylangdon <3

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon smut #ahs apocalypse #american horror story #apocalypse

[tessatechaitea]

Black Condor #4

Another future friend of Black Condor!

At the end of Issue #3, the editor had a write-up about what to expect from the series and, after reading it, I was like, "Oh yeah! That sounds right up my alley!" Here it is:

I'm a bit disappointed that there won't be any Satan but I'll manage.

I like how they say there won't be any women in thongs for the gratification of adolescent nerds and yet Black Condor can't not cheesecake up every cover he's on! Even when he's unconscious, he's a delectable bit of man meat about to be ravaged by The Shark (I hope!). I'm disappointed with my younger self because I categorized Black Condor as a "reluctant hero" as opposed to "an actual hero who doesn't let the idea of justice get in the way of actually doing the right thing who also has fantastic abs." I'm also a bit disappointed that I only collected half of the series. If I'm still enjoying this book after reading Issue #6, maybe I'll pick up the rest of the series at my local comic book shop, Excalibur. The Shark (as seen on the cover) has heard about Black Condor and has decided the best way to meet with him is to run around Philadelphia being an obnoxious jerk until Black Condor notices him. Maybe The Shark needs help extorting a million dollars from an old friend of his too. Or maybe he's in love. I saw Eagle vs Shark. I know how this ends. Speaking of Eagle vs Shark, I wonder how many reviews of the film called it "the Napoleon Dynamite of New Zealand"? I bet all of them. Black Condor refuses to be called out in much the way Superman never does. Superman always falls for it! "Hey Metropolis!" says the bad guy wearing the suit made of kryptonite. "I'm going to kill one of you every minute unless Superman stops me almost immediately!" And then Superman punches the guy in the face five thousand times which is totally what the criminal wanted because why else would a criminal go to Metropolis to commit crime?! And taunt Superman while doing it? And sink millions of dollars into purchasing enough kryptonite to build a suit out of it? The only payoff is getting your ass beat by Superman which must mean that's what the criminal wanted which means Superman fucking fell for another masochistic criminal's kink plan. But not Black Condor! He knows he doesn't want his dick sucked by somebody named The Shark!

Fucking Ned! Nobody likes the friend who is also the conscience!

I just realized Superman's super-earnestness and super-sincerity, two of the things that make him an actual hero, are to blame for his always getting dragged into weird kink-related crime sprees. I shouldn't fault him for that at all! Even Superman has to live with knowing he was manipulated every time because he can obviously hear and smell the criminal ejaculate in their kryptonite suit thanks to his super senses. Poor Clark! Now I feel bad for him. The person saying that shit about Black Condor being stubborn is the original Black Condor. He's somehow projecting an image of himself into Ned's bedroom so he can convince Ned to keep grooming Black Condor to be a hero. Why? Because it's Black Condor's destiny is Original Black Condor's answer. But I bet Original Black Condor is just concerned about his name and reputation. He probably even put The Shark up to this Philadelphia riot he's causing.

I was hoping this was the case! He's in love!

Black Condor rebuffs The Sharks advances which is a huge mistake in our patriarchal society! You don't tell a horny guy you don't want to fuck them without that horny guy completely losing his shit because how is he not getting exactly what he wanted?! How dare these sex objects have their own agency and ability to make their own decisions based on their own needs and desires?! Didn't they hear the part about how the guy was horny?! Now Black Condor has to defend himself by making physical contact with The Shark which is exactly what The Shark wanted in the first place. The only way to beat a masochistic kinkster is by living by the adage of the great philosopher WOPR: "The only way to win is not to play." Black Condor notes the similarities in his and The Shark's powers and begins to think maybe his grandfather's Society is behind this bullshit. And he might be right because just before the fight started, some Society toadies dumped a woman from a mental institution on the streets of Philadelphia nearby The Shark's rioting. And this woman recognizes Ryan. She also has an afro with a diameter of about three feet.

The mystery woman has her own run-in with the kind of horny assholes I described earlier.

The Black Condor's attacker was a guy who was half-shark. Less believable are the mystery woman's attackers: black Nazis. I'm not sure what Brian and Rags were thinking in this scene. "What are some visual images that are really scary? Oh, a swastika! And black guys! And don't forget the yellow Polo shirt!" Maybe the colorist, Kak (wait. Kak? What?) just got caught up in making the background characters diverse (which he and Rags have done a great job on so far in this issue) and forgot to put any thought at all into his coloring of Augustyn's script which probably read 'White Supremacists threaten to rape Mystery Woman.' Maybe the colorist never even sees the script and just colors the pages as they're faxed to them. And maybe Kak also had no idea what a swastika was? Anyway, I guess I was getting ahead of myself because the editor must have noticed the problem as the pages came back colored and made sure Kak corrected their colors.

I guess they were in shadow on the previous page.

Black Condor heard the woman think his name earlier and now he hears her screaming. He tells The Shark the fight is over and just begins to walk away while The Shark impotently tells him he can't do that. After which The Shark is tackled by police and tazed. Or mind-fucked by Black Condor. Or something. Whatever, the fight ends just like that and Black Condor flies off to find the mystery woman. Black Condor finds a bunch of dead guys in the park but no mystery woman. Oh, and the dead guys are black again. No wonder I stopped reading this comic book! It lacked continuity! Black Condor #4 Rating: B. Just last issue, I was told this series wouldn't be the typical sort of superhero series. And yet here we have a story where a villain rampages while calling out the hero and the hero takes the bait and subsequently beats the shit out of the villain. Then the villain gets away from police custody while the hero hasn't really learned anything. Also, Kak (and/or maybe Rags (and/or maybe Space! Who the fuck is Space? I don't know! They're just co-credited on the art!)) really wanted the Nazi rapists to be black when they were obviously meant to be white. Or maybe the alternating skin color was just some kind of meta-commentary on crime and how audiences see and react to it! It was like performance art! I saw it and I could't believe or understand it and I left thinking, "Wow! So powerful! But how? I don't know! I'm just a dumb non-artist! Those guys were artist! They must have just expressed a really profound point and I'm moved! I think?" Maybe their point was that no matter how obvious it is that white people commit most of the crimes in the country, people will still see most criminals as black! Even when they're white supremacists! Fuck Trump! Was that redundant? It just felt like it needed to be said! Sometimes it feels like it always needs to be said. Constantly. And forever.

#Black Condor #Brian Augustyn #Rags Morales #DC Comics #DC

[roselukes]

Fire’s Gone - a.i.

Prompt: My mother only had two basic rules. Don’t ever fall in love, and never summon a demon. I couldn’t honor either.

Requested: sort of

Warnings: swearing, smut, demonic ideology (?)

Word Count: 2,000+

Tag List: @cartiercalum @vaporlewk @cakestan @dankpunks @irwinofficial @irwlns @calumsbabylon @candidcalum @tothemoonmikey @obsidiancosmos @perfectlycake @polarizehood @luke2k18 @caulm5sos

When life gets boring, it really gets boring. I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling. As if the white popcorn mould would change the more I watched it. I picked up my phone and opened Safari, typing in ‘what to do when you’re bored.’ The search results were fairly basic, mostly consisting of things I hadn’t done since elementary school. Read a book, play outside, take a walk, call a friend. But one stuck out more than the others. ‘Summon a demon.’ I furrowed my eyebrows for a moment, thinking of how I would actually go about doing this activity. I stood from my bed and cleared a space on the hardwood floors. I created a new search, this time for ‘how to summon a demon.’

Step 1. Create a pentagram on a flat surface

Step 2. Place and light candles at each point

Step 3. Recite the incantation

Step 4. Make the demon kill your enemies

“That’s dark.” I mumbled to myself as I walked down to my garage.

“What are you up to, sweetie?” My mom asked, not looking up from her newspaper.

“Do we still have chalk in the garage? I want to try something.” I said, hoping she wouldn’t push it further.

“Yeah, your sister put it back on the shelf.” My mom said, finally looking at me. “I have to run to the office, will you be okay here alone?”

“Of course, Mom. I’ve been home alone a million times before.” I rolled my eyes and went into the garage, searching for the chalk. I stood on a step stool and grabbed the bucket of chalk. “Hm, does it matter what color?” I asked myself. I shook my head and grabbed the green stick before putting the bucket back. I went back inside, closing the door behind me.

“Alright, I’m heading out. I don’t think I’ll be home until after dinner, so you’ll have to feed yourself.” My mom said and grabbed her keys.

“Okay. Bye, Mom.” I said, going back up to my room. I closed my door and pulled my dresser against the door so no one could get in, just in case my mom came back early. I looked down at the cleared area before I started drawing the pentagram. I grabbed my various scented candles and placed them at each point. “Well, I hope demons like the smells of lavender and cherry blossom.” I mumbled and lit them. I picked up my phone and skimmed over the incantation. “I don’t speak Latin.” I shook my head and began sounding out each word. When I had finished the incantation, I was disappointed to see that there was no demon standing in the pentagram, like I expected. I sighed and knelt down on the floor, ready to blow out the candles.

“Leave that one, I like the smell of lavender.” I let out a small scream as I heard the unfamiliar voice. I turned around and looked at the strange man sitting on my bed. “This isn’t the bedroom I expected of someone summoning a demon.”

“You’re not real.” I said, mostly to myself.

“Oh, I’m very real.” He chuckled darkly. “The name’s Ashton, and you are?”

“Y/N.” I said, still staring at him. “Demons aren’t real.”

“Clearly, we are, because I’m right fucking here.” Ashton rolled his eyes. “God, humans are fucking ignorant.”

“We are not ignorant. We don’t exactly see demons every day.” I crossed my arms.

“You’d be surprised how many you actually see. We’re very discreet.” Ashton smirked. “You know that girl in your French II class you hated in high school? She was a demon.”

“Sure, she was a bitch, but she wasn’t a demon.” I shook my head.

“She was. Her name was Arabella, she was sent up here as a punishment.” Ashton said. “We demons have strict orders, and she never liked to follow them.”

“You’re lying.” I shook my head again.

“I’m not lying. What’s got you skeptical?” Ashton asked, patting the spot next to him.

“Well,” I said, sitting next to him. “I don’t exactly believe in heaven or hell. I don’t believe in God or Satan.”

“Most people that summon us don’t actually believe in any God or afterlife. 85% of the time, people summon us just to see if it works. Kind of like you did, except not as bored as you are.”

“How did you know I was bored?” I asked, looking up at him.

“We know everything. We can watch humans from where we reside. We’re each assigned a sector and we can watch all the humans in that sector. You were in mine, so I’ve watched you before.” Ashton shrugged.

“That’s just creepy.” I shook my head. “You watch us?”

“It’s not creepy, we like to laugh at how stupid humans are. Like how I laughed at you when you decided to climb that tree when you were in 2nd Grade.”

“You’ve been watching me that long? That was almost 15 years ago.”

“It was 13, but who’s counting.” Ashton chuckled. “Did you do any research before summoning me?”

“The only research I did was how to do it.” I explained.

“Well, you used the wrong color for what you wanted. You should’ve used Yellow if you were just bored. Do you know what happens when a demon is summoned on green?”

“Color does matter?” I asked, looking at him.

“Absolutely. Red means you want to make a deal, black means you want death, blue means you want someone else dead, yellow is for experiments, orange means you have questions.” Ashton rambled on.

“Just tell me what green means.” I rolled my eyes.

“Green means you want sex.” Ashton looked down at me, his hazel eyes flicking black. I widened my eyes and stared at him.

“I-I.. I didn’t.. I didn’t know.” I stammered.

“Yeah, clearly. We already know you didn’t do your fucking research.” Ashton’s eyes turned back to hazel as he rolled them.

“You’re such a dick.” I scoffed. “Like I’d want to fuck you anyways.”

“Oh, baby girl wants to get sassy, does she?” Ashton chuckled. I gulped and looked at him, the hazel in his eyes growing dark. “Tell me, Y/N, have you ever imagined yourself in this position?” He asked, bringing his face down to mine. Words seemed to escape my mind as his lips pressed against mine. I hummed softly and leaned into him, his hand coming to my cheek. His other hand slid up my thigh, gripping the skin just below the hem of my shorts. He brought his lips to my neck, his teeth nipping at the skin. I moaned softly, my head lulling back. “Tell me you want me.” Ashton mumbled, his lips sucking at the skin of my neck.

“I want you.” I moaned, tangling my fingers in his hair. “Fuck, I’m all yours.” I whimpered softly, the wetness pooling in my thong as Ashton pressed his lips to mine roughly. His hands found the hem of my t-shirt and I lifted my arms, allowing him to pull it off. One hand slipped behind my back to undo my bra as the other pushed my legs apart. Once my bra landed on the floor, Ashton’s hands pressed into my shoulders, pushing me back onto my bed. I gasped softly as his lips attached to the skin of my thigh.

“You’re never going to want anyone else but me, baby girl.” Ashton smirked, pulling my shorts down. He kissed my clit over the fabric of my thong, causing my hips to jerk slightly. “You better keep these still.” He said, pushing my hips down. “Understood?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” I nodded, looking down at him.

“Yeah?” His eyes narrowed, his fingertips digging into my hips.

“Yes, Daddy.” I whimpered softly.

“That’s more like it.” He smirked and pressed his thumb to my clit over my thong. “Are you gonna be a good girl for daddy?” He asked, rubbing slowly. I moaned softly and arched my back off the bed.

“Yes. Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s a good girl.” Ashton smirked, pulling my thong down my legs. He settled between my legs, keeping them spread. I gasped out a moan as his middle finger entered my heat.

“Ah, fuck.” I moaned, bucking my hips.

“What did I say about keeping still?” Ashton hummed, using his free hand to push my hips down.

“S-sorry, Daddy. It just feels so good.” I whimpered as he added another finger.

“Daddy’s gonna make you feel so good, baby girl.” Ashton smirked, fucking his fingers into me quickly. I moaned louder, gripping the sheets tightly. My eyes rolled back as he curled his fingers in my heat.

“Oh, God, fuck.” I moaned loudly, the familiar feeling building in the pit of my stomach. All too soon, the feeling was gone. I whined softly as he removed his fingers, slipping them into his mouth.

“Get on your hands and knees for daddy.” He smirked, licking his lips. I nodded slowly and rolled onto my stomach before lifting myself onto my knees. His hands found the skin of my ass, his fingers kneading it gently. I gasped as one hand came down on the skin, sending a stinging sensation up my spine. “You’ve got the prettiest ass, baby girl.” Ashton chuckled, sending another slap to the skin.

“Fuck me, Daddy.” I whimpered, wiggling my ass slightly. I moaned out loudly as his trailed across my heat. His tongue wiggled slightly, lapping up my juices. “Daddy, m’gonna cum if you keep that up.” I moaned, arching my back. His tongue dipped into my heat as his fingers down my clit. I spread my legs further and bucked my hips back against his tongue. His fingers rubbed my clit in slow circles as his tongue flicked against my entrance. “Oh, my God.” I squeezed my eyes shut as the bubbling returned in my stomach. His name fell from my lips like a mantra as I slipped over the edge, releasing on his tongue.

“Your pretty pussy tastes so good, baby girl.” Ashton hummed, licking his lips. “Can’t wait to bury my cock in it.” He smirked, sending a slap to my ass. I moaned and arched my back slightly.

“Please, Daddy. I need your cock.” I whined, turning my head to look at him. He smirked down at me and pulled his shirt off slowly, his biceps flexing. I bit my lip and watched as he pushed his jeans and boxers down, his cock springing up against his stomach.

“You’re dripping for me, baby girl.” Ashton smirked, running the tip of his cock between my folds.

“Please, fuck me. Fill me with your cock, Daddy. Please, I need it.” I whined, trying to buck my hips back. One hand gripped my hip tightly, sure enough to leave bruises. The other guiding his cock deeper into my heat. I moaned loudly as he stilled, filling me completely.

“Oh, you take my cock so well.” Ashton moaned, his head lulling back. I whimpered softly as he pulled out so only his tip was left. He thrusted in hard, his hips slamming into my ass. Both hands were on my hips as he pounded into me, the room filled with the sounds of moans and skin against skin.

“Fuck, Ashton.” I moaned, arching my back. I moaned loudly as his hand tangled in my hair, pulling me up so my back was against his chest.

“What did you call me?” He growled into my ear.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” I moaned, clenching around him. His hips snapped into mine, the angle nearly sending me over the edge. I gasped as his hand found its way around my throat.

“You love having daddy’s hand around your throat, don’t you?” Ashton smirked, tightening his grip. I moaned loudly, though it came out strangled. “Such a filthy slut for daddy.” Ashton groaned, pounding his hips up against mine.

“M’gonna cum.” I gasped, gripping his wrist.

“Yeah, you wanna cum for daddy? You want to cum on my cock?” He growled in my ear, pistoning his hips into mine.

“Yes, yes, Daddy.” I whimpered. “Please, make me cum.” I begged, clenching around him.

“Go on, cum for Daddy.” Ashton smirked, bringing his hand from my neck to my clit, rubbing fast circles against the sensitive nub.

“Daddy, oh, God. Fuck.” I moaned loudly as I released, my thighs shaking. Ashton continued to pound into me, his cock twitching. He groaned lowly as he spilled into me, his hips stilling.

“Fuck, you take it so good.” Ashton groaned as he pulled out, cum dripping down my thighs. “Mm, I’m definitely coming back to see this sight again soon.” Ashton smirked, rubbing my thighs gently.

“You’ll be back?” I asked, turning to look at him.

“I’ll be back for you.” Ashton smirked, pressing his lips to mine.

He was right, he did come back. Not always physically, sometimes he was there in my dreams or in the back of my mind. The physical time together was never the same. The sex was always intense and satisfying, but that too was never the same. Some days Ashton was rough and unrelenting, and other days he was gentle and sensual. The one thing that always remained the same was the burning in my heart every time he left. My mother only had two basic rules: don’t ever fall in love, and never summon a demon. I couldn’t honor either.

#5sos #5sos smut #ashton irwin #demon au #imagines #imagine #writing #5sos writing #my writing #C.A.L.M. Crew #cashton appreciation nw #cashtonappreciationnw #5 seconds of summer #smut #5sos imagine #5sos imagines

[regrettablewritings]

How You Met AU: Rafael Barba

Lifted from this ship meme

He’s back again, you thought, staring at the sharply-dressed man sitting at the bar. Every so often, he took a sip from his glass of scotch, never looking up from the papers strewn about before him. He was nearing the end of his first glass after only ten minutes – that meant the case wasn’t going too well. You preferred not to think of it as stalking, seeing as you worked at Martelli’s and he frequented the place enough for you to recognize his tendencies, but you tried to give yourself some leeway by considering what you knew from the news: That ADA Rafael Barba, notorious for taking on difficult cases and nearly winning all of them, had become a participant in one such situation that was already proving to be one of the harder types. Of course, the news wasn’t the source that allowed you to acknowledge how attractive he was – you did that all on your own, watching at a distance. Or by managing to catch a quick glimpse of him whenever you came by to serve him, rare as that was. The news couldn’t tell you that his eyes were a shockingly lovely shade of green, or that his profile displayed a sharp, yet handsome nose. The news would never show you that if he was particularly deep in a case, he would remove the jacket of one of those snappy suits and strip his top layers until he was down to his shirt and suspenders (of which, you wanted nothing more than to snap). The news couldn’t show you the way those pretty eyes of his focused on his paperwork, scanning each and every word before those slender fingers of his would guide a pen across one section or another to circle a particular word or phrase. No, that was all on you.

You and your stalkerish tendencies, you thought bluntly. That earned a mental elbow to the brain, telling your own mind to shush itself. You watched as he placed his now empty scotch glass on the worn, wooden counter. He’d be wanting another, you knew. Which you know because you’re a creeper. You had half a mind to perform the mental elbowing again, had you not been distracted by the small, odd feeling of victory you felt when you saw him order yet another glass. Though part of you wondered if there’d even be enough room for the grilled tilapia he’d ordered. Speaking of which … “Hey, (L/N), you mind graciously taking time out of your nigh-daily creeping and actually helping out?” You whipped around, panic setting in. “Sssshhhh, you jackass!!” you hissed at your coworker. Daniel, the chef, huffed with bemusement. “Just statin’ the obvious,” he grunted. You made quick work of speed walking back into the main kitchen. “I know, but still!” you insisted. You pointed a thumb behind you, back where ADA Barba was. “But what if he heard you?!” Daniel shrugged. “Then I s’ppose I would’ve made one more move than you. Either way, not my problem. Order up: Grilled tilapia with a side of string beans.” He plopped a plate holding exactly that on the pickup shelf. Your hands twitched; it could only be for the man outside. Not a lot of people typically ate at this place at this time of night. “Uh … Danny? That’s Sylvia’s job; I just clean tables, ‘member?” “Sylvia called off. Said she had a migraine the side of an elephant’s ass.” “Bullshit, both to her saying that and to her actually having a migraine,” you rejected. You then scoffed, “She’s probably just hungover, call her again and tell her to stop trying to get other people to do her job for her.” “That may be,” Daniel admitted with a roll of his eyes. “But even if I did, she wouldn’t be here before that tilapia makes it to the table. Because you’re gonna give it to ‘em long before then. Now quit trying to throw me off, I got other crap to do.” You crossed your arms. “Nobody else even ordered, Daniel.” “All the more reason for you not to get sidetracked and to just give the guy his damn food before it gets cold.” He slapped the metal counter with his spatula to show that he meant business and wasn’t going to take any more of your dillydallying. Well, shit. You’d felt so confident (albeit irritated) when you’d first stormed over and snatched up the plate. It was all you could do to keep the platter leveled just enough to keep the string beans from flying off.

You’d felt so insistent in the beginning. You mentally scowled at yourself for being so juvenile. It was bad enough to partake in some weird and creepy double standard of gawking at a customer you found attractive from a distance; it simply rubbed dirt into the wound that you were letting that effect your ability to actually do your job properly – even if it technically wasn’t the exact position you’d been hired for. And what better way to prove yourself competent and clear-headed than to actually do the damn job without a speck of worry?

This had been your thought process as you strutted out the kitchen and through the threshold leading into the main dining area. But just as soon as they came, they evaporated. The sight of ADA Barba, hard at work with his pen scrawling along the papers, reminded you of the nerves you had. And suddenly, the plate felt heavy in your arm. It threatened to leap out of your hold and send itself shattering to the floor, directing everyone (what few there were)’s attention to you. Including ADA Barba, who would most definitely think something foul of you for not only startling him, but for ruining his meal.

No, you sternly told yourself. Not today, Plate-Satan… . Plate-an. You were going to suck it up, march over there, and do literally the easiest thing you could’ve done all night! … Aaaaany second now.

It was honestly part-miracle, part-actual will that you didn’t drop the meal as you neared its destination. But nearly nothing could stop you from nearly thudding the plate against the counter. Granted, it could’ve been your anxiety convincing you that you had all but smashed the dish down. But then … he turned. And you could no longer hear anything but the sound of your heart beating inside your skull. While this wasn’t the first time you’d seen them, this was certainly the first time those beautiful, beautiful eyes of his were focused on you. And they didn’t appear to be scowling at you as you thought they would, or even staring at you with perplexity over how obviously strange you were coming off as. You were lucky to consider that look as one of courtesy. But, of course, your infatuation told you to read far more into it than necessary. “D-dyouneedanythingelsesir?” you blarbed. You wished for nothing more than for a meteor to crash through the ceiling and strike you down in that moment. But alas, no such natural phenomena befell Martelli’s, nor you. It was probably for the better, however, as ADA Barba still seemed predominately unfazed. “No thank you. But I appreciate the offer,” he said. You gulped heavily.

“Good,” you practically gasped. You forgot when your fingers started to wring themselves nervously before your apron. “Pleaseenjoyyourmeal!”

You swore to yourself that you weren’t running, or that your footsteps weren’t stiff. But you knew that something about the way you retreated was abnormal, given how Daniel was smirking at you from the doorway leading back into the kitchen. You tried to pay him no mind as you made a beeline to a fridge. You placed your scorching face against the cool metal and groaned.

“Wooowwwww,” Daniel teased. “I haven’t seen moves so smooth since my middle school dance on the cusp of puberty.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you groused. “I thought you had shit to do anyway.”

“I did. It just so happened that watching you nearly crap yourself talking to that guy was on of ‘em.”

“Fuck you.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted him to do.”

++++++++

You didn’t watch him for the rest of the time he was there. You couldn’t bear to do so. You were beyond thankful when another coworker arrived for their shift, thereby freeing you from having to provide further contact with the object of your infatuation and cause of your humiliation.

… So why was Erica coming back to you and insisting that you go pick up the tip he’d left at his eating spot once he was ready to go?

“He insists that it’s because you were the first one to serve him,” she shrugged. Shit.

You tried not to think about how awkward you must’ve looked, glancing out from the back before actually making a move. He was gone, but sure enough some green paper money was visible. It was only as you neared it and removed the glass it had been sitting under that you recognized it as being a decently generous tip for a bar of all places.

Usually, to get a $20 tip, one might have to show a little skin, act a little flirtatious. You were pretty sure essentially vomiting up words and acting a fool wasn’t regular good cause for such a generous donation.

It was then that you noticed that the benevolent attorney had left you one last thing. There, also held in place by the scotch glass, was a napkin with writing on it. It was in red ink – the same red ink he’d been using to circle and underline on his notepad earlier.

You weren’t sure what possessed you to handle the tissue so gingerly, as though it were some great treasure instead of a completely disposable paper product. But what mattered more was how you handled it as you observed what was scrawled upon it in clean, swirling cursive:

I can’t imagine it’s any fun just *watching* somebody eat. Maybe next time you’d like to join me? – Rafael Barba You blinked once. Twice. You narrowed your eyes, scrunching your face inward as you brought the napkin closer and then away. But the message stayed the same.

This … This had to have been a joke, right? You glanced at the door, knowing what nonsense there was in assuming ADA – pardon, Rafael Barba would still be there. You were pleasantly and completely surprised to see that he was, in fact, just composing himself after placing his jacket back on and positioning his bag on his shoulder. Even from where you stood, you could see the lovely glint of his eyes. He smiled at you. Not a courteous one as a customer could to any member of the waitstaff – a kind, warm, sweet one, if a hint wobbly at the upturn. As if he were nervous. And then … a wink. The sound of your heart thundering in your ears and the subsequent blurring of your vision from the rush of blood made you miss the exact moment he departed, but the effect took its hold of you for quite some time after that. Even as you cleaned up and clocked out, your thoughts were stuck on that moment, the napkin, everything. Should you tell somebody? Who should you tell?

… Well, wasn’t that a silly question?

++++++++

Sonny Carisi glanced at his phone the moment he felt it vibrating in his pocket. He had been waiting on a message from Rollins, but he was happy enough to hear from you. You will not *BELIEVE* what just happened, dude, you’d messaged your friend. He couldn’t help but smirk. Unfortunately, it was noticed by somebody else. “Gee, I hope I wasn’t called here at last minute just to see some cat video or whatever,” Rafael Barba snarked as he waltzed into the precinct.

“Nah, I wish,” Sonny said, sliding the phone back into his pocket. “Were you havin’ a good evening?”

“Was,” Rafael sighed, trying not to furrow his brows with irritation. “I finally gave that bar you’d been going on about a try.”

“Oh?” Sonny asked, placing his hands on his hips. “Which one?”

“Martelli’s.” “Really? My friend works there, I oughta tell her to keep an eye out for ya!”

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #rafae barba imagines #barba x reader #barba imagine #barba imagines #svu imagine #svu imagines #regrettablewritings

[yoshimickster]

RWBY VOL 6 Episode 3 “The Lost Fable”-THE ULTIMATE ORIGIN OF ULTIMATE DARKNESS-Recap

HEY EVERYBODY-how’s you’re day going? My computer blue-screened RIGHT BEFORE I could hit save so I’m gonna redo the WHOLE thing. Remember to save folks. EITHER WEITHER-let’s get to Mickster Recap!

The episode starts out with BACKSTORY TIME-where its revealed Salem was a princess locked away in a castle by her cruel father during the good old days, where the only thing keeping her busy is manipulating arcane magic.

2:07 Salem: *SIGH* What good is being able to shoot energy blasts if there’s no bad guy to blast them with?!

BUT LUCKILY-a HERO arrives on the scene-TO RESCUE THE FAIR DAMSEL-and his NAME-

-was OZ...ma. Ozma was his name...does he just happen to reincarnate into anyone with the syllable “oz” or “ma” in their name? THAT is a weird rule.

ALSO-look at confused as fuck Qrow here, he’s all “Uh...hi.” OH-he’s gonna drink himself into a coma after all of this is done.

BUT-not only does Ozma BRAVE the evil forces of the castle to reach Salem for ONLY pure motives(Jinn said so so its true)-HE ALSO-

2:49 LET’S SALEM IN ON THE BLASTING-like a TRUE gentleman!

The act of kindness of giving her her freedom, and Salem...just being Salem, cause the two to FALL in love!

3:13 ....aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand kiss! KISS! KISS DAMMIT! Seriously, what IS IT with this show and its “No-kissing” policy, its WEIRD.

Either weither, Salem and Ozma go off on LOADS of adventures-UNTIL-

3:36-when Ozma got sick with a FATAL case of “Unnamed TV disease”. CURSE YOU UNNAMED TV DISEASE-you’ve taken FAR too many lives!

Salem in her grief decides to seek out the god of Light and Creation in the LAND of light(what is this Homestuck?)to bring him back to life-AND-

4:38 -it is DOWNRIGHT beautiful, obviously inspired by Japanese scenery and it just WORKS. SHAME this is where the doom of man kind came to begin.

The god of light than reveals himself to Salem, WHO REVEALS HIMSELF TO BE-

4:51 ANTLER JESUS-a WEIRD mix of Japanese deer spirits, and as I’ve said-JESUS-

-SEE?! Water-walking, full package.

Antler Jesus than gives Salem the same spiel we’ve heard about ressurecting the dead we’ve heard a million times, gotta respect the balance what-not, bla bla bla-GIVE HER BACK HER HUSBAND YOU MONSTER!

BUT-ol’ Mr.Light rose petals her away telling her to let it go, but ain’t NOTHIN’ gon’ stop her from getting her man back, so its time to make a DEAL with the devil in REMNANT HELL-

-which is also in its own way VERY beautiful, nice use of dark colors and purple, kinda looks like Cybertron when it was infected by Dark Energon!

Salem’s here to seek  out the God of Darkness, whom after seeing Antler Jesus’ striking albeit minimalist god form, I’M SURE-the god of Darkness’ form isn’t utterly creep-

6:20 AAAAAAAAAAAAAAND welcome to your nightmares for the next few months folks, Purple Satan is here and he is HERE FOR YOUR SOUL!

Salem then asks Mauvisto(Get it, like Mephisto but with Mauve?) to bring back Ozma, ALL while not bringing up that she asked Antlers first. The dark being agrees because he’s just SO happy someone is giving him praise for once, why does his BROTHER get all the praise JUST because he didn’t create a race of empathic eldritch beasts whose only purpose is to cause as much misery and destruction as possible? Un-GRATE-ful is what those humans are!

Purple Haze than brings back Ozma-WITH-

6:57 THE POWER OF PURPLE! PRAISE HIS GRAPELY EMINENCE! 

After Oz has a BRIEF freak-out over no longer being in the land of the dead-GUESS WHO SHOWS UP?!

*CRACKA BOOM*

7:12

Mauvisto: OKAY EVERYONE-party’s over, AJ’s gonna kill it with ANOTHER of his lectures.

AntlerJesus: Don’t you give me that tone.

Mauvisto: WHATEVER YOU’RE NOT EVEN MY DAD-GAH!

I joke, but that is BASICALLY how it went down.

AJ than rose-petals away Ozma to preserve order-

Oz:...S...Salem...I don’t feel so good.

Seriously y’all, I BETTER see some Thanos memes from this episode.

BUT-the elder brother forgets the younger brother still has the POWER OF PURPLE!

PRAISE TO THE PURPLE! Either way, Mauvisto is NOT happy about that which starts-

8:19 A DRAGON FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT-or does it?!

ACTUALLY no, AJ tells Mauvisto that Salem went to HIM first, and after he told her he wouldn’t resurrect her hubby, she tryed to manipulate him into going behind AJ’s back. Mauvey than apologizes to his best bro the BEST way possible...WITH A PURPLE DEATH BLAST!

8:48

The Purple giveth, and the purple taketh away.

Salem is NOT happy about this, and EVEN tries to THREATEN the god’s with her magic-BUT-AntlerJesus than gives her a chance to cool off by-

9:15 ...drowning her from a million miles in the air. MAN-the Super God Bros don’t fuck a-ROUND do they?

9:26 ACTUALLY no, by dunking her in the pool of light, the Gods curse her with immortality, unable to see her sweet Baboo Ozma EVER again, and will only die once she accepts the importance of life and death. 

Salem than does the most logical thing after being cursed by two immortal beings who think cursing someone with immortality is a COMPLETELY rational response to wasting like...WHAT five minutes of their time, AND RALLIES AN ARMY to take on the gods!

11:24 It should also be noted that this army...and all of humanity are just TWO WEEKS from retirement!

The army than BLASTS Mauvisto, with a beautiful display of firework-I MEAN-magic attacks-

11:56 I’m just gonna assume since it was the old days, people weren’t as creative with magic as they could be. BUT-because Mauvisto is a friggin’ GOD-

-he PURPLIZES all the magic into one handy dandy ball! What the hell CAN’T purple do?!

Either way, as an ancient omnipotent being, I’M SURE he’ll give them all a just and fair punishm-

12:12...OR just nuke everyone, whatever works for you Satanic Purple Beerus!

Salem of course due to her immortality is NOT ONLY the only one in her army to survive the blast, but ALSO the only HUMAN who survived the blast! GEEZE-Mauvisto, ain’t that a little harsh? I get it, you hate Salem, but what did all those side-characters who DIDN’T go against you do? BUT-enough about that-NAME ORIGIN TIME-

12:51 AntlerDragon: This planet, was a beautiful experiment, but it is merely a Remnant of what it once was. 

DAH-they said the name of the continent-HUZZAH!

Either way, both bros decide to leave the planet to create OTHER Avatar meets Soul Eater meets X-men meets Harry Potter worlds. AJ leaves in a BEAUTIFUL yellow mist-

13:08

While Mauvisto leaves in the most OVER THE TOP way he POSSIBLY could.

Mauvisto: SUCK IT SHORTY!

13:21 HUH-guess Atlas Arcadium Rex DIDN’T destroy the moon from Rwby. Sorry folks, your shared universe headcanon is DEAD! DEAD!

13:41 Salem than takes a GOOD long walk throughout ALL of the planet now named Remnant, until after an ETERNITY of walking decides she deserves a GOOD soak!

14:04 IN the God of Darkness’s POOL of darkness! MMM-look at those bubbles, bet they’re NICE and warm!

But seriously, after EONS of roaming the Earth alone, she figures that since the fountain of life gave her eternal life, the pools of Grimm with finally kill her, ending her suffering...but we WEREN’T all so lucky were we?

INSTEAD-the pool recreates her from a being of infinite life, to a being of infinite life who wants PURE destruction!

14:33 DAMN she looks scary, and that’s not even her FINAL form!

A THEN CUT TO-

14:43

OZMA-having himself a NICE nap in the eternal void of nothingness! Honestly if I died, brought back to life, killed, brought back to life, and then killed a SECOND time I’d want one hell of a nap as well.

BUT-for realsies, AntlerJesus pulls Ozma into a void between worlds to curse him for all eternity to fight his now corrupted wife-I MEAN-give him a chance to return to the land of the living! Yeah...THAT! Where APPARENTLY humans will come back again in time...presumably...NOT made by the god of creation? SO...is this a world where humans are made by gods...OR evolution? HUH-well if THAT ain’t a neat bit of science-fantasy!

15:56

Its ALSO here where we learn what happens when all four relics are brought together, that they’ll summon BOTH god brothers back to Remnant and judge humanity. If they’s chill, its ALL good, but if they AIN’T chill-BYE BYE REMNANT!

Either way, despite hearing his honey Salem won’t be the same anymore, OZMA accepts and REINCARNATES INTO-

17:40 THIS GUY...whose name iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis?

18:01

Oz?: GRIMM STAB!

QUIT DODGING THE QUESTION YOU-what’s your name?!

Rando: Thank you! Please, tell me your name, who are you?

SEE-he’s got the right ideal-TELL US DAMN YOU!

18:17 Oscar:...he didn’t know.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH that sucks. I’m not sure if it means he over-wrote his host’s memories or what, either way the reaction on Oz’s face says it all.

AFTER the Grimm attack, Unnamed Ozma reincarnation takes a page out of his lady’s book and GOES on a walk, where he sees the world has CHANGED completely!

With LACKLUSTER architecture-

-enSLAVEment of the new Faunus race and WORST of all-

18:33 -PEOPLE HAD TO USE DUST INSTEAD OF MAGIC!

Blake:...why wasn’t my people’s early enslavement not saved for last? Like it was only the SECOND worst thing?

Jinn: Look I just put it in order of what he saw okay, gimme a break!

Turns out, only Ozma2 and a MYSTERIOUS woman known only as “The Witch” could do magic, WHERE SHE IS FOUND-

18:41 In this GHETTO ass shack! COME ON SALEM-you’re immortal, you seriously tryna tell me you don’t got time to make a nicer house?!

Ozma2 than logically assumes the witch is Salem and goes to see what she has become, AND IT IS REVEALED-

Ozma2:(OH NO SHE’S HOT!)

19:27 AND it turns out that both of them recognize each other-CAUSE THAT’S THE POWER OF LOVE!

Salem and Ozma than tell each other all the CRAZY shenanigans that have been going down in their lives while hiding their SECRET backstories-WHILE THEY ALSO-

19:40 -FINALLY fix up that old shack! Fixed up the windows, got a deck table and chairs, re-varnished the wood, if THAT don’t help out property values I don’t know WHAT will!

Also during their convo Salem fearing Ozma would hate her, blamed the end of the world SOLELY on the gods...well...I mean TECHNICALLY it was, she raised only ONE small army against the gods, and instead of punishing JUST those humans they killed EVERYBAH-I feel she could be honest.

The days went by, Salem and Ozma enjoyed their happy lives, having logically an INFINITE amount of sex, until one day SALEM SAID(paraphrased)

20:18 

Salem: Okay hear me out, WHAT IF-we act like gods, and be the NEW AntlerJesus and Mauvisto?!

Ozma:...okay I am SO sure that won’t work but I am INSANELY attracted to you so LET’S DO IT!

21:07 SO it appears they live on as gods and nothing else crazy happe-

21:33...bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaabbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbby MAIDENS! THE FOUR MAIDENS WERE THE DAUGHTERS OF OZMA AND SALEM! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLY god damned shit-THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING-probably, for all we know Oz gave four COMPLETELY DIFFERENT young girls magical powers. But enough about that-

21:38 LOOK AT THEM! LOOK AT HOW LOVING THEY LOOK! CURSE YOU ANTLER JESUS AND MAUVISTO-the world is FUCKED because you refused to let my new OTP be HAPPY!

But sadly, all good things must come to an end, as during their plans Ozma has second thoughts on their quest to reshape the world given the destruction they cause, which PROMPTS Oz-

22:02 -to start, with the maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan in the mirror (OH YEAH) and he’s asking him to chaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaange his ways(COME ON CHANGE)!

But for realsies, he then remembers the great quest the god of light gave him-BUT THEN-

22:21 DAW-baby’s first use of the dark arts!

HRNGH-LOOK AT HER! LOOK AT HOW PROUD SHE IS OF HER BABY GIRL! DAMMIT SALEM-you’re supposed to be the evil Sorceress Supreme, you have NO business looking adorable!

SO-I guess they go their magic powers from their parents, I wander what else they go-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! WHAT IF-Oz’s daughters didn’t just inherit their magic...BUT ALSO-Oz’s CURSE to forever reincarnate across the Earth like he did?! THAT’S WHY THEIR CONNECTED TO THE FOUR RELICS-probably, like I said there’s still the possibility of the story still be being true-HELL-maybe the maiden spell merged the four girls souls with those of his daughters?

AFTER the adorablenes, Ozma FINALLY decides to be an honest husband for once and tells Salem of the four relics and the judgement day that would occur if they were ever brought together, which Salem basically responds with-

22:51 Salem: You know what?! Let’s take the relics and make our OWN human race, with BLACKJACK! AND HOOKERS! And you know what? FORGET THE HUMAN RACE! KILL ALL HUMANS!

Yes, I am now headcanoning Salem as witch Bender from now all on-TRY AND STOP ME!

This logically upsets Oz, so he decides to calmly and rationally talk with his wife-

...OR take the kids and run without telling her only to get caught, because LORD KNOWS he couldn’t just get a marriage counselor to talk about their problems...seriously, this was ye olden times, the concept probably wasn’t invented yet.

22:34And sadly, it appears this is where everything ended between Ozma and Salem-

23:42 LITERALLY EVEN-everything between them in the castle has been destroyed! INCLUDING-

...don’t...don’t make me make a joke about this sub-conscious...tis too sad.

The battle/divorce ends with Salem winning RIGHT before saying this-

23:58 “...we finally...had freedom.”

AND...there’s TWO ways to look at that. That either A.) With the knowledge of the god’s relics, they could do the same thing the god’s did but without their rules or the metaphorical outlook B.) They were free BEFORE Oz told her about the relics...because than the god’s power wouldn’t keep controlling their lives. The latter I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean but to me...I think that’s true.

Salem than finally takes out Ozma2-

-with a Super SMASH bros meme no less! Don’t lie, you know who you are Gifmakers, AND YOU DISGUST ME! PERISH IN FLAMES!

After this, Oz takes the break up PRETTY badly-

24:10 -going on sad graveyard walks-

24:17 Drinking near paintings of empty liquor bottles.

24:21 ULTIMATELY getting out of his funk when he reincarnates as a nice swarthy individual and a bad ass new cane!

Even finally starts dating again and settles down with this nice lady, WAY TO GET BACK ON THAT HORSE BUDDY! BUT-just like in real life, the evidence of his ex STILL haunted his life-

24:37 In the form of monster raids no less! That’s break-up aftermath for ya.

Oz than realizes he has to bury the ex(literally) and goes out to find the FOUR RELICS-

25:00 ...in his next life as a hipster for some reason! Cleh, he’s an immortal soul-symbiote, he has time. 

He seeks out knowledge first and asks her where the other relics are, what could they do, and how could he kill Salem(in that order)? The first two answers we don’t know...but the THIRD one one we do-

Jinn: You can’t.

And the episode ends-

-with Oscarpin giving himself a good sit in despair.

So...yeah...HOLY SHIT-there’s a lot to take away here! For ONE-its interesting noting how tragic a villain Salem was, and how Oz spent so much time avoiding his fate because he just wanted to be with the woman he loved. FURTHERMORE-its neat how Salem is now like, Lord Garmadon in that destructive impulses BURN through her veins...but also like Lord Garmadon, she was still able to love. Sadly though...her worse impulses got the best of her, and now she has nothing to do but move forward and Thanos the planet, because there is NO going back to the good old days.

I’m Yoshimickster, and this was Micksterecap, and I hope your lives are filled with joy and happiness, and that you don’t become the toys of fate. Thank you, and have a pleasant night.

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#yoshimickster #micksterecap #micksterecaps #rwby #rwby volume six #rwby season six #rwby six #rwby volume 6 #rwby season 6 #rwby 6 #ruby rose #yang xiao long #yang xiaolong #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #oscar pine #professor ozpin #ozma #salem #rwby ozma #rwby salem #salem rwby #ozma salem #antler jesus #mauvisto #world of remnant #the four maidens #grimm #rwby spoilers #rwby volume six spoilers

[our-smooty]

Take Me to Church Chapter 16: Crash 2.0

Fandom: Gorillaz

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: 2doc

Tags: Car Accidents Angst Hurt/Comfort Drugs/Alcohol Implied/Referenced Suicide SuicideHealing Everything Hurts

Summary: The band is back together, but things are… weird to say the least. But when a crisis arises, can they pull it all together and be a family again?

Link to other Chapters on my Blog!

By the time she figured out how to open her eyes, Noodle was pissed. She’d spent days--weeks, months?--in blackness. For the first little while, all she could hear was screeching metal and a crash, over and over again. That eventually faded into the muddled sounds of machines and occasionally voices. Unable to move, she focused all her energy into understanding those voices. At first, it seemed impossible, like they were all speaking another language and she was reminded of when she’d jumped out of that FedEx crate on the doorstep of Kong. But eventually she could make out words, then sentences.

A car crash ...

Brain damage?

Poor thing she…

She remembered then. She remembered Murdoc snapping and pushing 2D, 2D bumping into her and then the grill of a car. She’d been in a car crash. She was in the hospital and she couldn’t move or speak.

Noodle wanted to scream, tried a thousand times only for her body to refuse to respond. She cried inside but her body remained still and it was torture. The few minutes each day, when the nurses came in to check on her, were a blessing because she could pretend to be a part of their conversations as an escape from the endless nothingness.

And then she’d heard it--

“H-hey Noods.” That was 2D! She wanted to jump up and throw her arms around the skinny man but she was immobile, unable to even smile.

“Hi there Noodle-girl.” Russel was here too?

“S-she looks a lot better, doesn’t she Russ?” Did she? She had no idea what he looked like right now, she could hardly feel her own body, but she soaked up the information, craving any clue to how long she’d be stuck like this.

“The bruises are startin’ to fade.” So it had been a little while, but not too long. Good.

“Sorry, Muds. Here you can take my spot.” Noodle was surprised to hear Murdoc was here as well. He wasn’t the type of person to visit sick relatives in the hospital, though maybe Russel and 2D forced him to come. She was glad either way, to have her entire family present.

Suddenly there was a commotion, slamming doors and shouts of “Murdoc!” and the sound of rubber against the tile. Even though she couldn’t open her eyes she knew the room was empty again, and that everyone had left. Inside, confused and alone, she cried.

At least after that, she had a clearer understanding of time passing. She heard the nurses talking about waking her up soon and she was angry to find out that it was the hospital keeping her ‘asleep’. But that was quickly overshadowed by the excitement that soon she’d be awake and able to move and talk and--

Suffice to say Noodle spent a number of hours making lists of things she would do once she was awake.

And finally, finally, the day came that when she told her eyelids to open, they fluttered. Ecstatic beyond reason she tried again and again until she could open her eyes fully to see the room around her. Next came focusing her eyes, then twitching her fingers. Each tiny accomplishment felt like the most important thing in the world. Noodle was so close to being able to lift her arm on command when she heard the door open again.

“Noodle?” It was 2D again and inwardly she grinned. This time she would be able to see him, to let him know she was there. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

Noodle was awake.

The first thing Murdoc heard as he walked into the room was 2D crying. The fear that shot through him was the most intense he’d ever experienced. She was dead, she’d died before they got here and it was too late for him to apologize and--

“You’re awake! Oh my God, she’s awake!”  2D exclaimed, setting the potted plant they brought with them on the windowsill and tightly grasping her hand. Murdoc was frozen in the doorway, stunned into silence. Behind him Russel pushed through and rushed to the bedside.

“Baby girl,” he breathed, his hands hovering over her like he was unsure what to do. Murdoc watched as the larger man slowly lowered his hands to the one of her’s that wasn’t held by 2D, gently stroking her much smaller hand with his. “Can you hear us?”

Murdoc couldn’t see from where he was but judging from the gasps, she made some sort of positive motion. Satan, he hadn’t been expecting this even though Russel had told them what to expect. Best case scenario, this, worst case she wasn’t awake yet. In his mind, he’d been disasterizing so much he’d convinced himself that the second he walked into the room his mere presence would cause her to die. Somehow his brain had made him believe that he was so toxic that just being in the same room as someone as fragile as Noodle would cause catastrophe.

“Murdoc’s here too, Noods,” Russel whispered, looking up at the bassist. Murdoc wavered for a moment before steeling himself and walking cautiously to the bedside. Noodle was there, looking much the same as she had last time except now her big dark eyes were open and looking straight at him.

“H-hey Noodle,” he stuttered. Nervously he chewed on a lip with his sharp teeth, unsure of what else he was supposed to do.

“We’ve been so worried about you Noodle,” 2D said, smiling big. “But you’re gonna be ok now!”

“Slow down D, we don’t even know if she knows what happened. Noodle can you blink once for yes, twice for no for us?” She blinked once at Russel and he smiled as well. “Good. Do you remember the accident?”

She blinked once, her lips quirked down slightly. With what looked like great difficulty she opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Murdoc looked to Russel.

“Why can’t she talk Rus?”

“The doctor said it might take a while for her brain to sort itself out. Do you understand, Noodle?” Murdoc watched her blink once again still looking frustrated.

“I know it sucks, Noods, but I promise it gets better,” 2D assured her and Murdoc realized that if anyone would know, it would be the singer.

“We’re sorry we didn’t visit but the doctor said you needed ‘brain rest’,” Russel explained. Murdoc stood to the side and watched as she blinked once again, and then made direct eye contact with him.

Murdoc wasn’t sure if he was glad he couldn’t talk, or devastated. What was she thinking about, was she angry at him for basically, pushing her out in front of that car? He couldn’t imagine she was anything but livid. Was she disgusted to see him here, did she hate him as much as he hated himself? It was a small blessing that 2D didn’t try to force him to hold her hand again.

“But now that you’re awake we can visit a whole bunch!” Stu said, a dance in his step. Russel chuckled but didn’t disagree. Were they going to be visiting every day? Was he going to have to come and see her, see what he’d done every single day until she could tell him herself to fuck off and never come back?

“We’ve all missed you a lot, even Murdoc!” Russel joked, but Murdoc didn't smile.

“Of course I’ve missed her, tosser,” he snapped.

“Sorry Muds.”

“Are you feelin’ ok here Noodle?” 2D asked, worriedly playing with her fingers. Noodle blinked once and then managed a small smile. Looking over to Murdoc, and then down at her hands held by her other two bandmates, then back to Murdoc she blinks once again.

“I think she wants you to hold her hand, Murdoc,” Russel said, moving away from the bed to give the bassist space. Murdoc felt uneasy as he took over Russel’s spot. With a shaky hand he reached out to Noodle, remembering the icy coldness of her skin from last time. As he wrapped his much larger, scarred hand around her’s he’s glad to note it felt much more like living skin. Noodle smiled up at him and he felt tears begin to form.

“Noodle…” He was going to lose it. The tears welled up and began to roll down his face without his permission. Noodle frowned up at him, probably angry at his self-pity. “Noodle I'm so sorry.”

She blinked twice and Murdoc's heart sank. She didn't accept his apology. He deserved it and he went to let go of her hand but felt her grip it, just a little.

“I think she's sayin’ you don't have to be sorry, it was an accident.,” 2D interpreted as Noodle blinked once. “See she agrees!”

But Murdoc wasn't really listening. He heard what Stu said, saw her blink, but his brain wouldn't accept it. There was no way this wasn't his fault, these idiots were just too trusting and too used to his bullshit to know any better. He’d tricked them all into caring about him and he didn't deserve their love.

Gently, but quickly, he pulled his hand away from Noodle’s. The tears were making it hard to see and he stumbled back from the bedside, aiming for the door. The same feeling of needing to run was taking over again and as he blindly scrambled around the bed and out of the room he heard the sound of steps behind him.

“Murdoc, the break room’s on your right. We can go in there,” 2D said, his long stride allowing him to catch up to Murdoc’s shorter ones. Luckily he remembered which door because once he entered he collapsed on the floor crying.

“Oh, Murdoc,” 2D said in a hushed voice as he closed the door and drew the shades. Murdoc could do nothing but sob, his hands wound tightly in his hair and pulling. He felt 2D sit down next to him and put a cautious hand on his knee. Murdoc pulled Stu closer, shoving his face hard against the singer's chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he chanted between sobs. “I-I don’t deserve y-you a-a-all.”

“Whaddaya mean, Muds? You deserve to have a family that loves you,” Stuart said in a hushed voice as he rocked the older man back and forth. “Noodle isn’t mad at you, I’m not mad, and neither is Russ.”

But Murdoc continued to shake his head. How could he make the singer understand that he’d tricked them? “I-It doesn’t w-w-work like that 2D! You all jus’ think y-you like m-me but you d-don’t. You can’t.”

But 2D wasn’t backing down. “Who says we can’t? Mud’s you deserve to have people love you. Why don’t you believe me?”

He didn’t know why, but he knew how he felt. “I-I didn’t do a-anythin’ to m-m-make it up to you. I-I-I don’t th-think I can.”

2D pulled back and looked him in the eyes and Murdoc saw a glint of frustration. “So what? You want me to be angry? You want me to beat you up?”

Murdoc looked down silently. Maybe that was it. If 2D beat the shit out of him he could stop beating himself up. He deserved it, anyway, for everything he’d done to the guy. It would only be fair. 2D sighed.

“I’m not goin’ to hit you, Muds. That’s not gonna solve anythin’.” 2D shifted so he was sitting crossed-legged with Murdoc in his lap. “I know that you’ve been hurt a lot, and I know the people that hurt you were the ones that were supposed to love you and that makes it hard for you to love yourself. But it’s different now, I promise, and we can work this out without hurtin’ each other.”

“H-how?” he asked. Murdoc couldn’t remember a single relationship he’d had where it hadn’t ended in disaster, usually caused by him. Even when it wasn’t his fault, when he’d been a little kid who didn’t know any better it had always ended in violence and tears. His father's face flashed on the back of his eyelids and he shuddered.

“I dunno exactly,” 2D answered warily. “I’m not an expert or anythin’, but we could try and find one to help us--” Murdoc shook his head violently.

“M’not seein’ a-a shrink,” he insisted, clenching his hands into fists tight enough to feel his nails dig into skin. “I-I’ve been down that road b-b-before.”

“You have? You never told me that,” 2D said, surprised. Murdoc began to cry quietly again. “We don’t have to talk about it now.”

They sat on the floor of the breakroom for a long time, 2D occasionally checking in with Murdoc, or trying to get him talking, but Murdoc remained silent for the most part. Eventually, he stopped crying, but instead of feeling better he felt worn out and exhausted. Today had been another disaster, thanks to him.

“Sorry I ruined your visit again,” he mumbled and 2D shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s OK, I’m jus’ glad she’s awake and we can talk to her.”

Murdoc went quiet again. 2D continued to rock them both gently back and forth, nearly lulling him to sleep. It felt so good to be held, to be comforted.

“I remember,” he started unsteadily, ”there was this one time when I was a kid my dad had this girlfriend who stuck around for a while.” He felt 2D nod against his head. “I musta been four or five, and I remember she had blonde hair and a-always smelled like baked goods. Anyway, she used to hold me like this, sometimes, when my dad was b-bein’ especially bad.”

“That sounds really nice, Muds.” Murdoc nodded.

“She left. Couldn’t handle my pops.” He didn’t remember her leaving, but he knew she must have at some point. They all did.

“M’sorry Murdoc. That musta been hard,” 2D said, running his hands up and down the bassists back. It centred him enough that he could pull back and look up at 2D.

“Thank you, D,” he said, trying to be as clear as possible. 2D went to brush him off but Murdoc put up a hand. “I mean it. You’ve been takin’ care of me a lot and I know I haven’t made it easy.”

“You’d do the same for me,” 2D answered, but Murdoc wasn’t so sure.

“Would I? I'm an asshole.” All those times on Plastic Beach when he’d left Stu down in the basement without his headache pills…

“Maybe before, but not now,” 2D said with confidence. What had Murdoc done to make 2D believe in him so much?

“Maybe. I don’t know.” They lapsed back into silence. Murdoc let his head rest on 2D’s chest again and listened to the singer’s steady heartbeat. Satan, what would he do without him? Since the band had gotten back together his relationship with the younger man had been different, but in a good way and he wasn’t sure why. Murdoc hadn’t been himself for a while, but with 2D he could almost feel normal. Or if not normal then at least functional. Barring a few times he’d gotten mad the singer had been caring and supportive, always putting Murdoc before himself. He couldn’t imagine if 2D hadn’t been around, or if he’d still been angry at him.

“2D?” he asked, quietly. The singer hummed in response. “What are we doin’?”

“We’re sittin’ Muds, what d’you mean?” Satan he was so thick sometimes, but Murdoc still found him kind of adorable.

“No I mean us. What’s goin’ on with us.”

2D paused, before exhaling loudly. “You agreed that us screwin’ around was good for all the stress and--” Murdoc cut him off.

“Bullshit D, you know what I’m talkin’ about. It hasn’t just been sex,” Murdoc snapped. He knew that the singer knew he was telling the truth. But 2D shook his head, his eyes wide.

“I-I dunno what you’re talkin’ about Murdoc, we’re mates.” Murdoc felt a drop in his stomach and he sat back pushing against 2D’s chest.

“You have got to be shittin’ me Stu. Mate don’t fuckin’ hold each other like this. Mates don’t go out shoppin’ and holdin’ hands.” Murdoc was surprised that he was saying all that, normally he was the first one to cut and run when feelings got involved. But 2D’s refusal angered him in a way that other flings hadn’t.

“What are you sayin’ Muds?” 2D seemed to waver between getting up and staying put for a second. Murdoc sighed and gripped the singer’s shirt in his hands.

“I’m sayin’ there’s somethin’ between us D, somethin’ more than jus’ sex.” The ball was in 2D’s court now.

“Murdoc…” The younger man looked up and met the bassist’s reddened eyes. “I don’t think this’s a good idea.”

Murdoc began to panic. He didn’t want to lose what they had. “Why not? I know you like the sex at least, I’m sure I could make it better for you.” Fuck fuck fuck he should have kept his stupid mouth shut.

“Murdoc stop,” 2D said, uncrossing his legs and beginning to stand leaving Murdoc on the ground. “We can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what Stuart?” Murdoc stood as well, a few feet of space between them. 2D was stepping backward towards the door and the bassist knew he was going to make a break for it. “Y-you told me to trust you, and I-I am.”

2D looked back at the door, and then at Murdoc. He seemed lost. “Murdoc everythin’s all fucked up and you haven’t been right. We shouldn’t be doin’ this right now.”

“But we’re already doin’ it,” Murdoc said quietly and 2D sighed again. For a brief, happy second Murdoc thought he’d won him over. Then 2D turned towards the door.

“I can’t Muds. This was a mistake.” Murdoc watched him open the door and walk out without a glance back, leaving Murdoc behind. As the door clicked shut Murdoc felt like he’d lost something vital and he’d never get it back. If he’d had any tears left, he might have cried.

#takemetochurchfic #gorillaz #murdoc niccals #2d #Stuart Pot #2doc #niccalpot #Russel Hobbs #noode #hospital tw #tw car accident #tw suicide #tw DRUGS AND ALCOHOL #tw violence