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#i have a lot of thoughts about human and absolute rationality
logarithmicpanda · 3 months
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"Without feelings insignificant decisions become excruciating attempts to compare endless arrays of inconsequential things. It's just easier to handle those with emotions."
(Ancillary Justice, Ann Leckie)
I really like this take, it's so refreshing compared to people pretending logic is absolute and ideal
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kingconia · 8 months
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VICE HOUSEWARDENS WITH MC, WHO IS BLIND, BUT, SOMEHOW, FEELS AND KNOWS EVERYTHING
warning: Ortho is excluded for an obvious reason, and I consider Ruggie to be a vice.
Trey Clover. ❤️
— Trey is absolutely surprised, when he sees you for the first time. It is not like he had never seen a blind person before, but there is something alarming in a fact, that a student without magic and sight, is left all alone in the NRC;
— He might be a little awkward around you, but he is still respects you, and will never points out at your possible insecurity. Hits Ace a few times, when he openly reminds you about being blind;
— ...When he finds out that you are not helpless, and in fact might be more attentive than all of them, he is speechless.
Trey glances over his shoulder, instantly finding you in the havoc that first-years had made in his kitchen. He has no trust in this kids, and it is quite dangerous place for you. So, he tries to look up for you wordlessly.
”Ace,” he calls for a redhead boy, sighing, when he almost drops a bowl with flour on the ground, ”pass me a few apples, would you? They should be somewhere here.”
Ace smiles at him crookedly as he starts walk around, squinting, while trying to find mentioned apples.
”Eh... Where are they?”
Trey turns, planning to guide him himself, when you are suddenly raising your cane, the tip of it moving in the direction of a basket with red apples.
”Ace, I think, they should be here,” you remark softly.
Neither Ace nor Deuce find anything extraordinary in your act, which makes Trey realise that it must be not the first time you do so. But he is astonished!
He examines you once again, and as he stares right in your colourless eyes that almost never blink, Trey is sure: you don't see anything. That it is not a lie.
...Perhaps, you are not without a magic as others think you are?
Ruggie Bucchi. 💛
— Alright, I am sorry, but Ruggie doesn't give a fuck if you are blind. It is not about bullying—he wouldn't do that—but he will not try to pamper with you either;
— And as soon as he realises that you, in fact, are highly aware of everything around you, Ruggie is even more comfortable around you;
— But! Your instincts are reminding him of beastmen—he had seen a few of them, who were just as blind as you, and you act suspiciously a lot like them—and so, he starts having a very strange theories about you.
Ruggie holds his breath, and as his back straightens, he is ready for attack.
In his homeland, he is considered to be one of the most dangerous beasts, a natural predator. He knows how to stalk his prey, how to stay out of its sight, and how to bring food back home. So, of course, watching after you, shouldn't be a—
”I know you are hiding on the tree, Ruggie.”
Urgh. Just how you always know where he is?
Here you are, sitting on the bench under this tree. And Ruggie, who stands atop of it, too high to be heard, shouldn't be noticeable even for a usual humans. Even he made a sound—but he didn't!—how could you say that it is him? Unless, you are feeling his scent, just like a beastman would...
Ruggie keeps his silent. Maybe, it would be easier to trick you this way, and then...
”Ouch!”
Almost when he touched your shoulder, you easily hit him with your cane.
”Ruggie,” you sigh. ”I thought, you are better than his.”
Rubbing his hand, he can only murmur a quiet:
”Sorry.”
...His belief that you might be half-beastman are getting more and more rational with each passing day.
Jade Leech. 🩵
— Jade is somewhere between acting all gentlemen around you, and searching for a way to use your disability in his advantage. Nothing personal, though;
— When he realises that his calculations are completely wrong, and you are not so easy to crack, Jade is impressed. What a good challenge you are;
— Jade might get an idea that, perhaps, you are lying to everyone... And if so, he is about to catch you on this lie.
”Remind me, please... Had you been sightless from the very young age?” Jade asks casually, pouring tea in your cap; for a third time in this morning.
You nod with a gratitude, and your hand easily moves to your right, where the pot with sugar is located. Jade told you where it is, when you first started having a breakfast together.
”I had been born this way, yes.”
As you put one cube in your tea, Jade hastily moves the pot to an opposite side of the table. Waiting. His eyes pierces in yours, trying to notice some strange signs. Anything.
”How complicated it must be.”
There is always a possibility that you just have those colourless eyes, which helps you to lie to other. Perhaps, you are as mischievous as he is, after all.
”Well. I think, it would be harder if I lost my sight earlier in life,” you smile.
Your hand flawlessly moves to the new location of the sugar. Jade hums in the disappointment.
...Once you will crack.
Jamil Viper. 🧡
— When he hears about you for the first time, he can't help but huff about how irresponsible headmaster is, if he allows you to walk around these dangers so easily;
— Much later, he becomes your close friend, and with that, he finds out about your talent. Jamil had never seen such things before, he thinks you are a miracle;
— But he will accept it without any side thoughts. He trusts you, and overall, Jamil is simply glad that you are not as enamoured in this world as he first thought you are.
Jamil knows you are coming from a ringing knock of your cane in the corridor. And, so, he rushes to the doors, opening it widely, still with apron around his waist.
”Good afternoon, Y/n.”
”Hello, Jamil,” you hum, slowly stepping in.
It is a secret for Jamil why some of his classmates are thinking that you are lying about your blindness—or use a secret magic for moving around—when a little evidences of it are always here.
He can say it from the way you never make sharp on inaccurate movements—he had only seen you running with Grim on your hands—and move slowly, though, gracefully. Or how you relay a lot on you cane.
”I had prepared a few pastries for you,” he exclaims quietly. ”From the Scalding Sands.”
You might be independent, but Jamil still thinks you struggling sometimes.
”I can smell that,” you smile. ”Thank you.”
But it is not a problem. He will make sure to help you from time to time.
Rook Hunt. 💜
— Oh! Oh! Rook can't hide his curiousity when he hears stories about you;
— As someone, who relays a lot on his senses and instincts, Rook fully understands what helps you through your blindness;
— So, if anything, he thinks you are a lot alike! Rook constantly helps you to develop and sharpen your senses by taking you on walks around the forest, or asking about what you feel in certain rooms.
”Incroyable!” Rook sighs out delightfully, eyes sparkling as he stares at you. ”You are such a talented person, ma flèche!”
Another little laugh escapes your lips, and Rook can't help but feel proud of how happy you are about these dates of yours.
He wants you to feel equal with others, but even more, he desires for you to know how much better you are, than the most.
”Ah, you are flattering me, Rook,” with a free from a cane hand, you rush to wave him off. Then, you frown suddenly, tilting your head on the right. ”Ah... I think there is another bird, Rook. Behind you, on the left.”
As soon as you warn him about it, Rook swiftly turns on the told direction. A mere second and arrow flies past you, hitting a target easily.
”Parfait!” He praises you again. ”You notice things even quicker than I do!”
As your cheeks blush furiously, Rook only smirks.
If you only know how special you are!
Lilia Vanrouge. 💚
— Lilia is a war veteran, so, he is not surprised by your abilities. He had seen a lot of his old comrades losing their sight in the battle, and slowly learning to live with consequences of that;
— But, he finds it impressing either way. Especially, considering that you are just a mortal. It is fascinating how strong and brave your kind can be;
— And, Lilia loves how you are always aware of his presence, never being scared of his sudden appearances, like others usually do. It is rewarding!
”Ah, aren't we going to be late?” Cater sighs, shifting from one leg to another, while scrolling through the Magicam. ”That's ridiculous.”
You hum, pressing your shoulder to the wall, yawning.
”Why are we even waiting?”
”What do you mean why?” Cater frowns. ”We can't go without Lilia... And I don't know where he is, but dude is really late.”
It is your turn to frown now.
”Cater, Lilia had been here for another five minutes,” you say. ”Just look up.”
Cater is suspicious at first, but then, as he does what you told him to do, a terrified help escapes his chest. Lilia is, indeed, here. Hanging from the ceiling, smiling cryptidly.
”Hello, love,” he flashes a smile at you. ”And hello there, Cater.”
”Hi, dear,” you wave at him. ”Well... Can we, please, go now?”
Cater sighs. His face is still pale, when he hisses out:
”You both of you are awful. Period.”
Lilia only chuckles at that. Well, aren't you just a perfect match?
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cobragardens · 7 months
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My Favorite Good Omens Moment:
An Essay on Why It Is Cool and Rad (Part 1)
There's this moment in Good Omens that makes me cackle every time I see it and leaves me full of warmth, so here's an essay on its context and meaning, because explication and analysis are how I show love. I will try to keep my thoughts as tight as possible, but they do have a tendency to spiral outwards, and I am very stoned. Come, sistren, and get nerdy with me.
My favorite moment in the series so far occurs in 1601. To approach it we will first need an assload of context. There's a TL;DR in bold at the end of the Context if you don't fancy reading the whole assload. Key arguments are in italics and bold throughout.
David Tennant gives Crowley a very consistent facial expression every time Aziraphale says something so outlandish Crowley can't quite believe he's hearing it. It's this one:
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Chronologically, we see the Eyebrows of Disbelief twice before my fave moment in 1601: once (above left) in that scene on the Garden Wall that familiarizes the audience with Crowley's face before adding the dark glasses, when Aziraphale admits he's given away his sword; once when Aziraphale tells Bildad the Shuhite that he, Aziraphale, has Fallen because he lied to the angels to save Job's children.
The Eyebows of Disbelief always signal surprise and amusement with something Aziraphale has said or done. This amusement is sometimes at Aziraphale's expense and sometimes not.
In the gifs above, Crowley is laughing because what Aziraphale has just admitted to doing is fantastic and unexpected and frankly pretty gd punk rock. He's not laughing at Aziraphale, he's laughing because he is delighted with him. The only record we have thus far of Crowley laughing at Aziraphale is this one:
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Crowley laughs when Aziraphale informs him--him, a demon who has personally been through the process of Falling--that Aziraphale is Fallen and must be a demon now. As though of the two of them Aziraphale is the expert on how and under what circumstances this occurs.
And yet when Crowley sees Aziraphale's distress--not his fear of being taken to Hell, but his heartbreak and lostness over the fact that his conscience has diverged from God's stated will--Crowley stops laughing, and instead he acts very kindly towards Aziraphale. He validates the gravity of what Aziraphale has done and assures him he won't turn him in. He sits with him so Aziraphale isn't totally alone (like Crowley probably was) as he goes through the loneliest moments of his existence to that point and picks himself up newly weighted with the secret he must now bear.
And after this scene (in canon as it stands thus far), we don't see Crowley laugh at anything Aziraphale says or does again.
And he really has to work for it sometimes. We talk a lot about the things Michael Sheen is able to convey with his face in Good Omens, and absolutely rightly so; David Tennant earns a chunk of his paycheck in this regard as well. If you haven't given yourself the treat yet, rewatch the scene in Will Goldstone's magic shop in 1941 and focus on Crowley's reactions:
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Tennant takes great care to show, with precision, that Crowley is expending effort not to react to Aziraphale's nervous chaos Muppetry and lack of self-awareness. Crowley is self- and socially and contextually aware enough that he knows (better than Aziraphale, at least, which is not a high bar to clear) what's cringe, what's funny, what's ridiculous, how to behave. But whenever Aziraphale crosses a boundary of normalcy, or even sanity, and there is opportunity to laugh at him, Crowley very carefully doesn't react. He doesn't interrupt him, he doesn't try to correct him, he doesn't make fun of him, he doesn't even smirk; he just watches him, as stone-faced as he can manage, no matter how bizarre Aziraphale becomes.
We should be reading this lack of reaction to Aziraphale's social and rational transgressions as powerful positive action. Go watch the Doctor Who episode "Human Nature," or literally any episode of The Inbetweeners, or read or watch Regeneration, and reflect on what it shows you about English masculinity; then consider again the depth of significance in how English- and male-coded character Crowley treats English- and male-coded character Aziraphale in an England created by an English and male-codedpresenting author based off a book written by himself and another male-presenting author. Within its context of English masculinity, Crowley's lack of reaction is not a neutral stance; it is a very fucking loud show of support.
This is not even an inference; it's stated outright in the show. Crowley himself puts it into words 422 years after my favorite moment:
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You know how Crowley calls Aziraphale "angel" because the factuality of the descriptor offers him plausible deniability to any Heavenly or Infernal agents who might be listening? Remember how Crowley is a great equivocator? Crowley is equivocating here, too: he's using the cover of what Maggie and Nina will take as a disparaging joke at Aziraphale's expense in order to make a perfectly sincere statement. This is his genuine perception of one of the relationship dynamics he has with Aziraphale and how he feels about that dynamic. Crowley thinks he himself is quite witty (an accurate assessment), Crowley thinks Aziraphale isn't sufficiently self- or contextually aware to hide how strange he is and therefore frequently says and does mad things (also an accurate assessment), and Crowley is Into. That. Shit.
Okay. Now let's look at 1601.
Chronologically it's been almost 1,000 years since we last saw Aziraphale and Crowley. In 537, Aziraphale isn't willing even to consider a labor-saving working arrangement with Crowley of fucking off home out of the damp of Arthurian Wessex; but by 1601, he's worked (and met, and Arranged) with Crowley "dozens of times now," Crowley says, and Azirapahle does not correct him.
In that millienium, Aziraphale has grown to care deeply about Crowley:
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In fact he may be somewhat smitten with him:
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Seriously, go back and watch Aziraphale here as Crowley approaches and starts speaking to him: he doesn't start smiling until he recognizes that the person speaking to him is Crowley (but he only smiles at Crowley while Crowley's not looking at him).
And Crowley is definitely become smitten with Aziraphale:
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Our man(-shaped entity) is so allergic to work he sets up a meeting to weasel, cajole, or (as it happens) cheat a coin toss to get Aziraphale to do an easy temptation for him in Edinburgh, and then in the same conversation agrees to miracle a play into success because Aziraphale gives him a single hopeful look. Crowley's got it bad.
TL;DR: The Eyebrows of Disbelief happen when Crowley is surprised and amused by something Aziraphale has said or done. Sometimes that amusement is delight with Aziraphale; sometimes it is at Aziraphale's expense. Crowley is aware of this distinction, and when his amusement is at Aziraphale's expense, he suppresses it, even when it takes some effort on his own part, and remains stocially composed. This is equivocation on his part: to Celestial/Infernal operatives lacking knowledge of the intricacies of human behavior, this non-reaction would seem like neutrality; to Aziraphale, who shares with Crowley and the audience the contextual knowledge of English masculinity's utter viciousness, this non-reaction is a profound show of support; and in the safety of support from Crowley, Aziraphale lets his weirdness blossom.
As another meta points out [link if I find it again], we also see in Aziraphale's wordless request about Hamlet and Crowley's immediate understanding of it that by 1601 Aziraphale and Crowley have developed an unspoken, coded method of communication with each other.
Now that we have all of that in mind, here's my favorite moment in Good Omens:
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Ixi of Fuck Yeah Good Omens has even kindly archived a closeup of the aftermath, for Crowley, of "Buck up!" In gif 4, above, you can see that the tiny smile is an involuntary reaction that happens as Crowley's eyes widen: for a fraction of a second, he's caught off-guard. In the closeup it's easier to see that he suppresses the smile and gives a tiny shake of his head, Eyebrows of Disbelief heading for his hairline.
There are a number of things Crowley's reaction could mean and what messages it could communicate (we'll get to that in a sec), but regardless, his reaction is, unquestionably, one of surprise and suppressed amusement. This is an aspect of Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship and characters that I like very much, viz., that one of the reasons Crowley likes Aziraphale (though Aziraphale is judgy and occasionally, unintentionally, horrifyingly cruel) is that in addition to being one of the kindest and most courageous beings in existence, Aziraphale is mad as a bag of frogs. Crowley does not know what is going to come out of Aziraphale's lovely mouth next, but Crowley does know there's a good chance he will struggle to believe he's hearing it, and Crowley likes that.
That's what makes this my favorite moment. What makes this moment so cool and rad, though, is its ineffability. We know from the Eyebrows of Disbelief that Crowley is surprised and amused, but any of several things could be read in that almost imperceptible headshake. Like:
What are you doing? or
Why are you like this? or
How can you be aware that you say these things out loud and yet still say them out loud? or
How has my existence come to this? this moment of listening to such insanity?
each of which is a fair and just feeling to have/message to communicate to a man(-shaped entity) who is yelling "Buck up!" at Hamlet.
But that's only if we read Crowley's amusement as being at Aziraphale's expense. And I don't think we should. Because watch Aziraphale here:
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He's doing it on purpose. He is shouting a hilariously inappropriate, 100% authentic Aziraphale-brand thing over arguably the gloomiest passage of Shakespeare's famously gloomy play--right after Crowley complains about its gloominess--and he is watching Crowley as he does it. Look at his smile! He knows he's being Deeply Uncool, and he is doing it literally right into Crowley's face.
Remember that we just talked about how by this point in the chronology Crowley and Aziraphale have learned to communicate with each other nonverbally through facial expression? So what does it mean when Aziraphale responds to Crowley's grumbling about Hamlet's gloominess by smiling his minxious Mona Lisa Aziraphale smile, looking right into Crowley's face, and yelling at Hamlet to buck up? Aziraphale, in a carefully coded, carefully Aziraphale way, is joking with Crowley. His silliness in this moment is for Crowley.
So with aaaaaaallllll of this essay in mind, what does it mean that Crowley's reaction to "Come on, Hamlet! Buck up!" is widening eyes, an involuntary twitch of his mouth toward a smile, and then, his eyebrows still showing surprise and amusement, a tiny shake of his head?
Once more, with inferences:
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I do propose, y'all, on the basis of this web of evidence I submit for consideration, that what we are seeing here in my favorite moment of Good Omens is the ineffable equivalent of Aziraphale and Crowley sharing a laugh.
Crowley's amusement here isn't at Aziraphale, because Aziraphale is eliciting that amusement consciously and deliberately. Aziraphale, in good spirits and happy to see Crowley, uses his Aziraphaleness to offers Crowley not only an opportunity for amusement, but the opportunity to be in agreement with him about what in this situation is funny. They're on the same side of this joke.
And his humor lands just as he wants it to: Crowley, just for a moment, is caught off-guard, and tickled--
But remember, Crowley is worried in this scene about being surveilled ("I thought you said we'd be inconspicuous here"), and he worries about audio surveillance a lot ("Walls have ears"; "Don't say that. If my lot hear [etc.]," etc.), so he's very limited in what reactions he can show or voice. Aziraphale knows Crowley must be perceived by anyone watching or listening to disapprove of his, Aziraphale's, behavior (just as he must be perceived to disapprove vociferously of Crowley's). Both of them know this.
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--so Crowley suppresses the smile almost successfully, and shakes his head at Aziraphale, minutely, to say Stop. What you're doing is working, you're close to making me laugh, and if I show how much you have just delighted me, it will blow our cover of "just an Arrangement."
I offer three final data points in advancing my argument that what we see in my favorite Good Omens moment is Aziraphale successfully attempting to joke with Crowley and Crowley recognizing that overture from Aziraphale and being momentarily surprised into a reaction of genuine delight before pulling his face back under control and indicating to Aziraphale that he must stop:
Datum 1. Nothing going on with Crowley's face in this moment is accidental. We know for sure we're not seeing David Tennant react to Michael Sheen here not only because of literally every other point of Tennant's and Sheen's performances in the show, but because Tennant is wearing opaque contacts and sunglasses under film lighting and therefore cannot be reacting to anything more compelling than a level-10-lift blur because Tennant cannot see shit. Crowley's reaction is a deliberate and careful performance choice on Tennant's part, and it's underscored by director Douglas Mackinnon's choice to film Tennant in 1/2 profile to keep Crowley's eyes visible and face readable to the audience. This reaction is supposed to be there and supposed to be meaningful.
Datum 2. The husbands in 1601 is not the only moment in Good Omens when we may be seeing an angel and a demon communicate the message Stop doing that, it makes us look too familiar between themselves with a little headshake:
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Datum 3: There is another moment in Good Omens when Aziraphale offers Crowley the opportunity to enjoy a joke with him. There, too, his humor lands just as he intends, so we can use this other moment as a comparison to our 1601 moment. I don't have gifs for it, but go back and watch it, S1E6 49:27-42. Snips below.
Aziraphale says something that surprises and amuses Crowley (he asked Hell for a rubber duck while he was sloshing around in the holy water)--
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--but what Aziraphale says makes Crowley smile long before it makes him laugh.
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In fact, his laugh, though a genuine cackle, is quite delayed, and he laughs only after Aziraphale starts laughing too.
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In other words, Crowley's reaction to Aziraphale offering him amusement they're both on the same side of is exactly the same as his reaction to "Come on, Hamlet! Buck up!" right up until he laughs instead of shaking his head. Here, after Armageddidn't, Crowley doesn't have to suppress his reaction, so he can let the smile bloom; he doesn't have to control his response, so, although it takes him a few extra seconds, he lets the smile turn into a laugh.
But in 1601, it's not safe to laugh at Aziraphale's humor. It's not safe even to smile at him. A single piece of evidence or eye/earwitness testimony that he and Crowley have anything more friendly than the most passing and acrimonious of professional relationships could mean death to either or both of them, and depending on what Falling is like, maybe something worse than death for Aziraphale.
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But Aziraphale is so funny, so effervescent for Crowley, at Crowley, that it catches Crowley just for a moment. Crowley's eyes widen and the corner of his mouth twitches toward a smile.
And that's dangerous. If Aziraphale keeps acting so charmingly mad, Crowley is going to laugh, and they can't afford that risk, so he shakes his head at Aziraphale. Stop, or I won't be able to keep a straight face around you.
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And Aziraphale apparently receives that message, because he immediately eases off. Less than 60 seconds later we learn that he's deeply concerned for Crowley's safety--and that it's not so much that Aziraphale has Crowley wrapped around his little finger as it is that Crowley has wrapped himself around Aziraphale's little finger like a snake arranging itself on the tree branch it calls home.
UPDATE 14/10/23: HOLY SHIT Y'ALL IT GETS EVEN BETTER! THERE IS A SEQUEL!
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fauustic · 11 months
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crimson staining the cement
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i needed to get this out of my system before i sleep ... i have so many thoughts of a very in love but obsessed/possessive miguel who is just too jealous and overprotective but is still a sweetheart.
im still taking requests so please do feed my imagination
gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara drabble
warnings: depictions of violence, poessiveness, overprotection in the term of obsession. jealousy. blood, biting. definitely something i haven't wrote about a lot.
Miguel knew that underneath his constant need for your affection and reassurance, he was a jealous, jealous man.
Beyond his stoic expression conveyed to anyone other than you, the moment another individual other than him made advances towards you his jaw would tense and his talons instinctively unsheathe into his palms. His mind blanks at the idea of someone invading the space that only he is allowed to occupy.
It's not like he feels as if he owns you, his anxiety and worries stem from feeling as if you are too out of reach for him, on a whole different dimension because you were human and lively, everything he was not. Miguel O'Hara, a shell of who he was once before, viewed himself as something grossly supernatural and devoid. In his mind, your companionship was a necessity for him to live. He's never felt more alive than with you, and now that he's had a taste of what he's been missing he can't seem to detach his fangs from you, his prey caught by the neck.
So when he's pushing his way through a crowd of scientific elitists and spots some prick practically hovering over you with a sneer, an absolutely primal rage floods his vision and the only thing he can think about is you and ripping the rich pervert limb from limb. And Miguel truly was contemplating the idea until your anxious scouting finally pinpointed him, in which he assumed you excused yourself with haste because of how quickly you departed from the prick before pushing through the crowd to reach his embrace.
Miguel hated settings such as this, being dragged to go to social gatherings due to his position at his job, but the only reason he dragged himself to come was because of you. You urged him to try and do the things he hated, pressed him to experience new things. And he allowed it, with the only condition that you had to be strung along with. With a smile, you always more than happily agreed.
Yet everytime the two of you arrived at a fancy getup, someone stupid enough to bother you had to interrupt your happiness. Which ultimately ruined his contentment.
Miguel was never mad at you, could never bring himself to hurt you unless it was the marks he made with loving bites and harsh kisses. 
But he was not below hurting someone to make a statement. And when someone got hurt, they had to be silenced because then they knew too much.
It never bothered Miguel much to dispose of those who hurt you, who sunk their blunt nails into your flesh and made you nauseated from their unwanted creepy flattery. He was just doing what he needed to do, protecting his responsibility. Get rid of the problem, no?
As his fists met the sickening crunch of cartilage and bone, the street lights painted his figure into a canvas filled with glistening crimson. It was a gruesome masterpiece, he thought. Like a spider trapping a fly, poking its tendrils against its food like a toy.
When his instincts overdrive his rationality, he doesn't think of himself as Miguel O'Hara anymore. He was simply the predator that crafted his genetics, the spider that altered his being.
The tear of skin as talons claw into the marred flesh of another elitist scum, who just hours before had the audacity to belittle what you wore in Miguel's earshot, calling you unsavory things such as a "whore, or slut." He had been itching all night to get his hands on the pathetic lump of a man, yet when his red-clouded gaze fell upon the mess against his crisp, standard black suit vest tailored around a white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. 
Wiping the blood splatter off his cheek with a swipe of his arm, Miguel spat on what was left of the man who viewed you, and probably many others, as an object of desire and nothing more. It made him sick.
He'd clean up before arriving to your flat, a place where he found himself most comfortable within. Without you, his own home felt frigid. A mirror of who he was, which he hated the idea of being alone in.
So when you felt your boyfriend's arms wrap around your hips in the softness of your duvet, you were blissfully unaware of just what he was doing earlier that night. His fangs sunk into your unexposed shoulder, a purr vibrating against the bite as fuzziness soothed his haunting thoughts.
It was common for him to sink his teeth into you as a form of relief after long days, your body growing used to the intrusion. 
"Love you so much, my darling." You murmured into your pillow, mind foggy with sleep as he unlatched himself from you just to bury himself in your chest. His nails scratched your back, tracing stars and circles mindlessly as he purred.
"Love you so much more, mi vida." His grip on you tightened subtly, "would do anything for you and more."
You simply giggled in response to his declaration, calling him a big teddy bear, before brushing your fingers in his soft curls. Giving him a sweet peck on his lips and one last lingering kiss to the nose, the two of you drifted to sleep with nothing on your mind but one another.
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volturissideslut · 4 months
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Hii!! Can you do Jane x reader where she’s Jane’s mate but still human. One day some important information gets leaked out and everyone in the volturi thinks the reader leaked the info. (Aro can’t read her mind) So they question her for a long time and when she still says that she didn’t do it they make Jane torture her with her power. As Jane is torturing her someone walks in and says that she didn’t do it. By the time Jane stops the reader is passed out. Everyone and mostly Jane regrets what they’ve done. The reader doesn’t wake up for a few days and Jane is in absolute sorrow. And when she finally wakes up she doesn’t even look Jane in the eyes bc of the betrayal she feels. Just a lot of angst yk:))) Buuut they make up in the end. Thank youuu🫶🏻
𝕵𝖆𝖓𝖊 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎
This is more of the aftermath than anything. Mentions of looking thinner
"Get out"
Though your voice was hoarse, it didn't lessen the impact. Not one bit. Jane didn't think it was possible to vampires to have panic attacks, yet what else could this be. Why was her chest so tight? She doesn't need to breathe. And though she can't sweat he skin feels clammy behind all her layers. She's a vampire, their brains go fast - she could finish a novel in five minutes, but this feels too fast. It's making her dizzy. It's making her sick.
"Please-" her mouth feels dry. Is she panting? Why does it feel like Felix is cracking her chest again? You two can get through this. You can move past this. The thought is the only thing keeping her semi-rational right now. "I can't even look at you right now. Please leave, Jane. I can't see you anymore" and god you look so broken. And she did it. Your skin looks sickly, at least seven shades yellower. And your eyes - so dull - are dragged down by the bags she gave you. Are you thinner? You look thinner, you look malnourished. Definitely unhealthy.
It's the shakey movement of your hand accompanied by a wince that pulls her from her intense observation. And she remembers what you want. She wants to stay - absolutely has to - but she can't ruin this even more. She needs to save this and even now she recognises that her being here will be detrimental to that. So she does leave.
Out the door, she sits on the floor and stares at the ceiling. Not that her eyes are recognising anything though. No. Her head is leaned back against the big double door to your shared chambers and all she can bring herself to do is listen intently to your heartbeat. You're still here. You're still safe.
You, on the other side of the door, can no longer bring yourself to stifle your own sobs at the betrayal. Your mate, your love, the one who promised to always protect you, had actually been the only vampire to hurt you. The only one you ever truly trusted. Though her gift is mental, the rough treatment had still hared you. But it was hard to tell what hurt more - the mental scar on the one on your heart.
Could you even stay?
Maybe it was time to leave
--------
That night you packed, leaving through the window. Were you as strong as them? No. But could trust Jane and be in the same place as her? Also no.
It was killing you just to be in that room, with all of them memories. All of them were now tainted, and now you could see all the similarities between her room and the dungeons.
Bag at your side mainly just filled with your previous belongings you couldn't part with, you climbed out the window only to be face to face with Alec. For fucks sake.
"You shouldn't be here," his tone was more concerned than accusing. Was he actually worried for you, though, or was he more bothered about his sister? that seemed like the more likely answer. "come. Ill walk you back" he takes the bag for you and begins to guide you gently back, hand delicately on your arm as if you were made of porcelain. He looked guilty. Remorseful even.
He led you back the longer way round as if he was giving you time. He even sat with you in the garden for a few minutes - until Jane cane storming through.
"There you are! Your heartbeat grew faint and the window was open and I-" and her hand are on your face. She stops speaking when you flinch back, heart dropping to her feet, until she feels you lean into her.
Damn mate bond and damn exhaustion because you let yourself fall into her. She can feel your heart rate speed up in fear but feels frozen when you make no effort to move away.
"Let's- let's get you to bed, yeah?" she turns her head, face frightened as she mouths a 'thank you' to Alec for keeping you here and safe. He just nods, head down as he shares part of her shame. A drop in the bucket compared to hers, though.
--------
Here she lay, back in your shared chambers, sat up against the headboard of the bed while you lay on their lap asleep. Icy fingers comb through your hair and scratch lightly at your scalp.
"We'll be okay, right? We'll be okay."
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lokischocolatefountain · 11 months
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Hiii if you’re still taking requests, could we have more angsty, jealous Javier? You write his character so good, i love all of it!!! Your married series was absolutely fantastic <3
Javier Peña is not a jealous man. The women he’s with have multiple partners beside him- they’re informants, sex workers, and a lot of times both. He’s no juvenile and doesn’t expect them to not do their job because he can’t share. Besides, there’s a clear transaction with these women- sex in exchange for dollar bills, intelligence in exchange for a visa.
Javier Peña is not a jealous man. At least he doesn’t think he is until he’s with her (the professor he ends up marrying). The relationship starts out casual. She’s a beautiful woman who frequents the restaurant he frequents. They do the decent mating dance of flirtation and buying each other coffee before he takes her back to her place and fucks her thoughts out of her head.
He makes it clear to her that he isn’t looking for something serious. He hasn’t told her the exact nature of her job, but she knows. She has seen the gun on him. She has seen him on a raid, tactical vest on and hand enclosed around his gun. She kicks him out, but only after giving him a kiss and telling him she’d like to do this again. They were on the same page. Until they weren’t.
He’s bad at drawing boundaries. He kissed prostitutes on the forehead, asked them about their young kids and ailing parents, let them drone on about their hopes and dreams. Sure it was important to cultivate a relationship with his informants so that when things got dangerous, they would continue to… inform. But he enjoyed it. He liked knowing the women he slept with, liked asking questions and answering their questions. It was the only human thing left in his life full of violence.
He cannot draw boundaries with her at all. He eats from her refrigerator, drinks her liquor and lies down on her lap and lets her read English literature to him. He picks her up from work sometimes and drops her back the morning after. He fixes her faulty plumbing without even being asked. He finds her carrying heavy bags of groceries and offers to drive her to her place. He takes her grocery shopping and restocks her fridge. He tells himself it’s because he eats so much of her food. Just repaying her.
He’s picking her up from work one night. It boils his blood to learn that he isn’t the only one waiting in the parking area for her. There’s another guy, a professor like her, and he walks with her to his car. He should’ve driven away as soon as he noticed her with another man. But he doesn’t. He stares hard enough to burn a hole in the dress she wore when he first slept with her. It was flattering on her figure, highlighting her best assets— her entire goddamn body. Clearly she wore this dress when she was hoping to get laid. He drives away before she could notice him. He finds someone else that night. Plenty of fish in the sea, right? Except he screams her name when he’s balls deep in Helena.
She’s at their restaurant the next morning, having breakfast and drinking coffee like she didn’t go fuck someone else just last night. He sits at his old table instead of joining her like he always did. She looks a little hurt by it, but quickly fixes her expression to smile at him. Good. Be hurt. He is aware he’s being irrational. And a pig. She was free to sleep with all of Bogotá if she wished. God knows he did. She wasn’t doing anything wrong just like he wasn’t doing anything wrong. But he’s angry at her anyway.
Work takes him to Medellin for days and when he returns, he finds himself at her doorsteps. He feels right at home in her arms, in her pussy, and he doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t want to get up and leave even though everything in him is begging him to leave before it was too late. He struggles between the rational part of him that knows it’s best to leave and the irrational one that wants to pull her to his chest and fall asleep breathing her in. She makes the decision for him.
She’d asked in the nicest possible way to fuck right off. Well, not really. But she might as well have kicked him out. She asks for clarification “what are we doing, Javi?” There is it, he thinks. He was always clear about his intentions with women, but he’s had a few of them believe that they could “fix” him. Whatever the hell that meant. And he had to break their heart, tell them it was just sex like they’d originally agreed. But she surprises him.
She calls him out on his shit, tells him he’s giving her mixed signals with taking her grocery shopping and meeting her up at work. She tells him he can’t have it both ways. “I have a date with a colleague this Sunday. It’ll be weird if I’m with him, thinking about how sweet it was of you to take my car for an oil change. That’s not umm…it’s not fuckbuddy stuff.” It’s boyfriend stuff.
Her drawing the boundaries for him should’ve helped. But god it doesn’t. All he wants to do that week is walk into her university campus and punch that fucker who was taking his girl out on a date. It was stupid, dangerous and reprehensible. But fucking hell, he couldn’t do shit while thinking about her with another man. Would she let the guy fuck her in his car like she let him? Would she cry his name? Would she accidentally let a low Javi slip out of her pretty lips out of habit?
He stops visiting the restaurant. He doesn’t need breakfast anyway. He fucks other women, fucks his own fist, but none of them come close to the euphoria of being inside her, of kissing her and drinking her moans in just as he made her cum on his cock. Nobody comes close. It’s for the best. He cannot afford emotional entanglements. It was for her good that she pulled away when she did. This was no life for anyone and attaching herself to him would mean having to endure his shit.
He can’t stop thinking about her. He freezes in the middle of the fucking street with his gun pulled on some guy because he thinks he saw her in the distance. It’s not her, he knows that. She was in Bogotá and he was in Medellin. It’s not her. But he sees her in everything. He finds himself reading fiction, for fuck’s sake. He finds her panties stuffed into the cushions of his couch and smells it to get himself off. It was creepy as shit, but it’s the hardest he’s come since he stopped seeing her.
He drives by their restaurant and catches a glimpse of her having breakfast with that guy. At their restaurant, at their table. He’s filled with rage towards her new man, at her. How could she just take this guy to their restaurant and have breakfast at their table? Like he didn’t even fucking exist. How long had this been going on? Was it well before he saw them in the parking lot that evening? Did she bring him here whenever Javi was away in Medellin?
He brings another girl to his leather couch that night and tries not to think about how she could be at home right now, fucking her colleague in the same bed she fucked him. Did she ask him about his interests? Run her fingers through his hair? Touch his arms and tell him how strong he was? He wants to laugh at himself. Of course she didn’t do that last one. The fucker she was with had noodle arms. They wouldn’t satisfy her. He wouldn’t satisfy her. Javi knew her body in and out, knew all the right buttons to push, had her wrapped around his little finger and his cock.
Two months and he’s strong in his resolve. He still think about her, still keeps her panties tucked under his pillow like a low grade pervert, still thinks of beating the shit out of her new guy. Hell, she was probably in love with him by now. Probably a nice guy who didn’t sleep around and actually came home on time.
It’s the oddest thing that breaks him. Surveillance pictures from Escobar’s family vacation. The piece of shit has a whole wife. Keeps his mother and cousin close. Even that fucking monster had family. Doesn’t he deserve to at least take the girl he can’t get out of his head to a nice dinner? Loneliness creeps into his days and nights. No matter how many informants he beds, there’s a growing void in his chest.
Rather than drive home that night, he drives to hers. He wakes her up at an odd hour and all he can think of is whether she was in bed with the new guy when he rang the doorbell. She looked both surprised and annoyed to find him at her door. He couldn’t blame her for either of those things— he did drop off the face of the Earth and it was way past a decent hour to drop by someone’s place. He wants to hold her face in his hand and press a kiss to her lips. But he didn’t have permission for that anymore. So he just says “Dinner?”
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sunflowergraves · 1 year
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Unpacking Will Solace’s Character
I’ve seen a lot of Will Solace hate since TSATS and it’s really starting to bother me. As a person that relates heavily to Will’s character, it’s upsetting to see him get bashed across the internet, especially considering we’ve never actually gotten to know his character. Personally, I feel like a lot of people are basing his character around headcanons and fanfiction (which I am guilty of) and were disappointed when he wasn’t who we saw him as. 
It doesn’t help that the only time we got to see Will’s POV it was short and through the eyes of others. He’s also not this big hero like all the characters in the PJO universe. His powers aren’t that strong, he’s not a prophecy child, and his talents are mediocre. Will is the most human demigod we’ve ever been introduced to. I can understand why his character doesn’t feel multi-dimensional compared to everyone else, but in my opinion, he was fleshed out very well. 
Yes, there are a few things I was disappointed by. I wish they talked about Will’s past more and his grief over his dead siblings. I wanted him to have his own weapon, even if it was an old bow he never used or a lyre like Apollo used in TOA. But I will always love that they changed him from the calm, collected counselor healer to an anxious, depressed, self-doubting person because it fits him so well. How could he not feel these things after losing friends and family? After being abandoned by everyone around him? Or being forced to take on the caretaker role of the entire camp because he was the only one left? 
I’m going to continue this down below, so if you don’t want major spoilers for TSATS, don’t continue reading. Also this is long as hell in case you just want to skim. 
Every time Will was mentioned in the books, it was from someone else’s POV and it was a few lines at best. 
Will has always been described as the cool, relaxed, go-with-the-flow type of guy. He was the person with a level head and knew exactly what to do. But guess what? Underneath that cool exterior was an anxiety riddled people pleaser who threw himself at every problem because that’s what he was told to do. The Apollo cabin was always the head medic team. After Lee and Michael died, Will was basically thrust into that position of power. He was trusted to take care of his younger siblings, trusted to take care of the entire camp. If he let them down, it was going to cost lives. Of course he’s going to be scared and nervous, but he can’t show that. Would you want a doctor with shaky hands and sweat running down their neck? Would you want to be taken care of by a person who doubted and second guessed themselves out in the open? 
As someone who was given a lot of responsibly and forced to grow up at a young age, I completely understand this. You want to try to make everything better for others around you, you get scared when you fuck up, and you HATE when people can’t rely on you. That’s why you will never show how scared you are to fuck up. You will never let people get inside your head because if they can’t rely on you, what good are you? Breaking out of the role that everyone else gave you because they trusted you is scary and hard. 
Nico is probably the only person who knows what Will really thinks. Will trusts Nico with his anxiety and overthinking because he’s comfortable enough around him to show that side. He knows he doesn’t have to Mr. Hero in front of Nico and that’s such a precious and important bond to make with someone. 
Will was valid for being whiny and irritated for most of the book. 
First, Will has ANXIETY. If you don’t know what it’s like to live with anxiety, count yourself lucky. It feels like your thoughts are attacking you constantly. It’s like an uphill battle between rational thought and absolute chaos. I can’t get in my car without thinking of all the ways I could die before I buckle my seatbelt. Imagine going to SuperHell for the first time in your life! Not only that, but people told Will constantly that as a child of Apollo he was basically fucked. The three strongest demigods that made it back almost went insane! Of course Will is going to be upset, irrational, irritated, and uncomfortable. 
In TOA, he voiced several times how he thought it was a bad idea and that he really didn’t like it. This is not a new thing for Will’s character at all. For him to be willing to cross a line he had made concrete shows that he loves and cares for Nico. But that shouldn’t mean he isn’t allowed to be uncomfortable. 
Second, for anyone saying he could have stayed at camp instead of going has never sacrificed their comfort for someone else. There are so many instances in my life where I went way out of my comfort zone because I knew my friends/family wanted me there. Did I complain? Hell yes. Did I still do it? Hell yes! If Will had said, “Nico, I can’t do this and I refuse to at least try,” I would have lost so much respect for his character. Instead he sucked it up, even when he was already practically dying before they got there. 
Three, Will was worried about Nico. He’s never experienced Tartarus, he’s never been to the Underworld. While Will has definitely faced his share of demons, he’s never stood in Nico’s shoes. So when his boyfriend is having vivid nightmares and hearing voices, he’s going to try and rationalize it for Nico because that’s what he has done his entire life. Will is the “healer.” He is supposed to fix things, not let them traipse off to hell like it’s a vacation spot. 
Four, this is a 15 year old. Fuck, even now at the ripe ole age of 20, I’d still be shaking in my boots terrified at the thought of going somewhere that is practically a jailhouse for the worst creatures in creation. Will has little to no experience on the field (He ran from six guards without even trying to pull out a weapon. The worst thing he’s ever said to his enemies was “anemic loser” and didn’t even want to kill Octavian. Every battle before that he had an older sibling to look up to and care for him). So yeah, I’d just be a tad bit nervous and annoying.  
Will asking Persephone how to love someone from the Underworld was honest and raw. 
This scene broke me in ways I can’t even describe because of how real it felt. If you’ve ever been in a deep and caring relationship (friendship counts) you should understand. Like Persephone said, love is something you choose and it’s complicated and messy even for people who were practically made for each other. For Will to ask how to love someone from the Underworld shows that he is actively choosing to understand and love Nico. 
I get that most people interpret Will’s lines as “How do you love someone so filled with death?” but really he’s asking how do you love someone who acts like he doesn’t want to be loved? How do you love someone that pulls away from your light no matter how desperately you try to give it them? How do you love someone who hides parts of themselves from you? 
Will is a healer, he fixes things. It’s not until this scene that Will realizes the only thing Will needs to fix is his perspective on Nico. That darkness and hurt and trauma is okay. It’s also a scene where Will realizes he doesn’t have to force down his own trauma anymore. 
Will loves Nico and it’s so obvious he scared to lose him. He thinks he’s weak and broken and incapable of helping Nico escape his trauma. His insecurities shadow him and he’s confused about how to navigate this relationship because he thinks he needs to be the leader. How can he lead if Nico won’t let him? How can he help when he doesn’t know how? Persephone’s scene was Will’s chance of finding guidance from someone who could understand exactly what he’s thinking
People in their late 40′s still can’t get relationships down. Why are we pushing unrealistic relationship ideations on a 15 year old who doesn’t even know who he is yet?
Will was not useless. 
Sorry that the relationship duo isn’t Mr. Badass and Mr. Badass 2.0. Will not being a fighter is refreshing to see because honestly I’m quite tired of seeing badass couples in every book/movie. Not everyone is strong and powerful and super awesome. Will is a nerd that likes healing people. Why isn’t that enough? 
“He’s described as having muscles,” “He’s a field/combat medic,” “He fought in the wars,” “He carries people all the time,” “He trains with the Apollo cabin.” Okay and? I was raised to work hard and protect myself. I work out and I know how to use a bow and knife. Does that mean I want to? No. 
I’d also like to point out that almost everyone in camp is described as having muscles. You kind of have to when your life motto is Try not to die or get eaten. Also they train on lava walls, jump eight foot pits, and weapons. I get a little bit of muscle going on my silly little walks, I’d be fucking jacked if I was actively training. 
Second, Will has never once been described fighting monsters/demigods. I don’t doubt that he’s had a few encounters, but the boy practically specializes in RUNNING AWAY. He’s a feral little animal that finds injured demigods and sprints them away to the medic center while occasionally bashing monster heads in. He’s strong because he needs to be, not because he wants to be. Strength also doesn’t equal battle prowess. 
Not to mention, he hates killing! He didn’t want to kill Octavian despite Octavian being the actual worst. He runs away as a distraction even though he had weapons on him. He got upset when Nico threw Sherman Yang out of the chariot in TOA. Monsters are different, but monsters are also scary. Will is terrified of demon pigeons, you really think he’s willingly gonna go one-on-one with anything bigger than his pinky? 
I’ll admit, I hated that he didn’t have a weapon in Tartarus. I thought it was really stupid and out-of-character because my anxious ass would have loaded up. Still, it was kind of funny when they described Will bashing rocks over monster’s heads during their fight with Nyx. 
My final point for this: Will was Nico’s support system and that was the point. Will knew he wasn’t going to throw hands with anyone. He went because he knew Nico needed him even when Nico told him to stay. Will was going to trek through SuperHell with the love of his life and hold his hand to remind him that he was loved. Will wanted Nico to know that he’d literally go to Hell and back for him and that’s what mattered. 
Nico didn’t ask Will to be the Hero. Nico states several times that the reason he loves Will is because he wants to heal and he’s so stubborn to find the good in everything. And that’s exactly what Will did. He offered support, care, and reminders. He was going to understand and love Nico, even through the darkest parts of his life. 
Will is one of the best support systems in a PJO couple duo. 
It makes me incredibly sad to see people call Will toxic when he gave his entire life to support Nico. I won’t deny that he complained a lot and said hurtful things and that he occasionally belittles Nico’s feelings. But Will didn’t know he was doing those things. He thought he was helping Nico navigate his PTSD. How is someone who is still emotionally developing his own character supposed to know how to take care of someone else’s? 
Will also clearly showed love and affection towards Nico. He met all his friends and was polite to them even when they looked scary. Will risked his life several times before they got to Tartarus and still insisted on continuing. Built a Minecraft house for his boyfriend and left him a KitKat bar because he knew he would feel fatigued (also Will brought KitKat bars, meaning he was already thinking of Nico’s health beforehand). He tried to be useful by scouting ahead because he felt like he was being a burden on Nico. He kissed him, called him silly nicknames, hugged him, respected his boundaries (asking to hold him instead of trying to comfort him immediately), and oh yeah, went to Tartarus when he was obviously quaking in his flipflops. 
He also helped Bob when he had no idea who/what he was, comforted Nico when he was beginning to lose hope, acknowledged his mistakes and admitted he needed to try harder, realized he didn’t need to fix Nico and that his boyfriend was perfect the way he was, and learned that Nico wasn’t going to leave him. 
Love is complicated. Love is something you choose. And Will chooses to love Nico. Also for everyone saying a year is long enough to learn/realize these problems already and have them solved, you need to take the rose tinted glasses off. I’ve been with my partner for almost four years, and I’m still learning things about our relationship. We argue, we don’t always meet eye-to-eye. Our own trauma and experiences surface and it gets difficult. But do we just call it quits and throw everything into the trash? No. We talk, we problem-solve, we come back and try to understand each other even if we don’t know how to do that. A year is nothing. A year is puppy love and excitement. It’s like your favorite movie on repeat. All the problems are ignored because you don’t want to see them yet. 
So for a pair of 15 year old's who just came to terms with their sexuality, I think that they are doing pretty damn good at this love thing. 
Anyway, that’s all I really wanted to say. Even though we’ve had Will for years, we’ve never gotten to know his true character until now. It’s raw and weird and doesn’t fit the mold of Will Solace, son of Apollo we all created him to be. You can still hate his character or whatever, I’m not going to try to change your mind. But don’t hate on everyone else who loves him and loves this book. 
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bless-my-demons · 6 months
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Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-Five
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Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?
Warnings: None
Notes: Holy shit I’m back and boyyyyy does it feel good! I missed you guys and I can’t thank you enough for the love and support🥹 Jasper and Reader need to go through this icky before getting back to normal and going through the craziness of Eclipse. This made me fuzzy on the inside to write because it’s healing this shit Bella and Edward never went through but needed to lol
Word Count: 2125
Series Masterlist
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• March 24th, 2006 • Forks HS •
Reader
Two days.
Forty-eight hours since I told Jasper Hale I needed time, space. Insane, really. Insane that even though he’s gravity, he’s in every thought scrolling through my brain, I asked him for the very thing my heart abhors. The very thing my brain needs.
It’s exhausting, my rational brain warring with my irrational heart. He’s here, he’s home, I just need to soak up every second. But on the other hand… for how long? We still have the same issue - my humanity and his control.
My hand shuts my locker door not-so-softly and I stare at my fingers on the cold metal. They could be touching cold skin instead- fuck, this stupid beating organ in my chest.
Frustration drives me to dig my phone out of my pocket as the bell for fourth period rings, the hallway behind me emptying out quickly.
He answers on the second ring and relief loosens the knot in my chest fractionally.
“Hey girly, what’s up?” Quil’s chipper tone brings a grin to the corner of my lips.
“Kidnap me? Please?”
He must hear the desperation in my voice, since he agrees immediately. “Absolutely, I’ll be there in twenty.” A shout of protest echoes in the background and he apologizes quickly, he was in class I can’t just ask him to- “Lunch?” He asks, jogging now by the puffs of his breath.
“Quil, that's a thirty minute drive-” I protest, worried.
“And you need rescuing, figure out what you want for lunch.” He ends the call abruptly as the squeaky door to his junky old car opens.
Sighing at my phone, I pocket it and turn towards my next class. I can survive until he gets here, right? I’ve been climbing the walls for the last two days, the object of my thoughts noticeably absent from school.
That’s a good thing, right? He’s doing what I asked, allowing me the space I need to think clearly, without his persuasion.
When in all actuality, I can’t help but feel like the walls are shrinking.
He’s here, he’s home, he said he wasn’t going anywhere, his family is still here.
The affirmations trickle over my buzzing skin.
I saw Alice in second period. Emmett is sitting behind my empty seat in Trig - I just have to walk through the door.
How the fuck am I going to move forward, to figure out a solution with Jasper, if I’m also trying to tackle their abandonment?
I might as well be trying to move forward through mud - thick, dark, and fucking everywhere.
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My phone vibrates about fifteen minutes before the end of class, I don’t dare pull it out of my pocket to confirm that it’s Quil.
My hand raises and immediately catches Mr. Varner’s gaze in the quiet classroom, “Yes, miss Y/l/n?”
“May I run to the bathroom, please?” I ask, trying to keep the sudden impatience out of my voice.
His nod is all I need to pack away my items quickly, behind me I hear the groan of the desk supporting the hulking frame of my other best friend.
“Y/n, what are you-” Emmett’s hushed whisper makes my pulse jump.
“I’ll be safe, promise.” I whisper back and practically run for the door.
A chair squeaks and Mr. Varner calls out, “Mister Cullen, she does not require assistance finding the ladies room, sit down.”
I flash him an apologetic smile as he slowly retakes his seat before I push the door open. I feel horrible, but I need the freedom waiting for me in the student parking lot.
Sprinting through the exterior double doors, a full-on smile overtakes my face as Quil leans over the center console to open the passenger door, “Hop in, loser!”
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Sitting in the parking lot facing First Beach with the windows rolled down, munching on cheap burgers and fries, I feel like I can finally take a deep breath.
“Okay,” setting down his shake to begin his interrogation, I brace. “Not that playing hookie isn’t the best idea ever to kick off the weekend, but what’s wrong?”
“He’s back.” I stare at the last few bites of my burger as I set it down in my lap, the paper crinkling loudly.
“He as in-”
“Jasper.”
“Oookaaay,” he draws out the vowels, not really following the obvious dilemma. “You wanted him to come back, right? I mean, you were a fucking mess the last six months.”
“Yes I wanted him to come back! I just-” I hesitate, “I just don’t know how to feel about it.”
“If my boyfriend-” I level a look on him that he ignores, “He’s yours, hook, line, and sinker - c’mon. If my boyfriend up and abandoned me, and I hadn’t gotten over it in six fucking months, suddenly is back in my life, what’s there to feel other than relief? A reprieve from what you’ve been feeling without him?”
“Since when do you know-”
“Stop deflecting, I’m here to solve this shit because my best friend needs help.” He’s munching on fries like this is goddamn entertainment. “Answer. Now.” This fucking fucker.
“Fine.” I puff out a breath and stare at the waves. “We’re still in the same situation he left me in-”
“The situation you won’t tell me about?”
“Yes.” The exasperation in my tone brokers no room for argument on the subject, so I move on. “I feel like the rug is going to be yanked out from underneath me because of it. There’s no way, over or through this mountain, it’ll always be there.”
“Mountains wither over time; if creeks can be persistent enough to become rivers, then so can you. I don’t know what this mountain looks like, but have you ever asked him for help to explore it? To find a path in the trees one step at a time?”
I look at him, gobsmacked. He makes it sound so easy.
“Don’t look at me like that, I may not have experience, but I can tell you what I feel like is right. And it feels right to just talk to him. I can tell you what to do all day until I’m blue in the face, but only he can reassure you in ways no one else can.” The empathy in his face makes my eyes sting, fuck he’s right.
“You are a treasure, you know that Quil Ateara?” I give him a sad smile trying to reign in my stupid tears, reaching for his hand.
He gives it to me and squeezes, “Of course,” he says it like it’s as obvious as grass being green. “And someday I’ll be as wrecked about a girl and you can regurgitate this shit back to me.” His shit-eating grin contains a little mustard in the corner and I bust out laughing.
“Ancestors help her, she’ll have to put up with a lot when it comes to you.” I tease and he winks.
“I’m nothing but a hoot, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Cranking his museum piece of a car, he turns it in the direction of his house and we leave today’s worries in the sand to be washed away with the tide.
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•March 24th, 2006 • Forks Community Hospital•
Jasper
The swish of the automatic front doors of the hospital snap me from the thoughts pinging around in my brain. The cold crystal in my hand gathering condensation brings me back to my mission.
Striding down the familiar hallway that contains Carlisle’s office, I stop at the door displaying his name. Peeking inside to confirm my hearing, my adoptive father is definitely absent from his worn leather chair. No matter, procrastination won’t win me anything.
Continuing down the hallway, my steps are nearly silent as the nurse’s station comes into view with the object of my mission sitting alone behind a massive monitor.
“It’s after visitation hours, you’ll have to come back-” She finally raises her eyes and her sentence peters off quietly, “tomorrow-Jasper?”
Y/n’s mother stands from her chair as she registers my face, eyes falling to the bouquet of flowers set in one of Esme’s many crystal vases.
“Take this one, she’ll know you mean business.” Esme deposited the vase on the kitchen counter in front of me this morning while I was lost in thought on how to talk to Y/n’s mom. Apparently flowers are still the way women prefer their apologies.
“Y/n is still at the Reservation-” She starts, assuming it’s her daughter the flowers are for.
“I know.” Placing the arrangement Rosalie helped me with on the counter, I turn my supernatural gift inward and mellow out my nerves. “These are for you, ma’am.”
“Oh.” Surprise fills the air as her speechlessness pulses for a few seconds, the beeping of heart rate monitors echo around us. “You didn’t have to-” Gasping, her eyes narrow when they meet mine, weariness floods her senses. “You’re not asking-”
I chuckle, knowing what this looks like, “No ma’am, I’m here to apologize.”
Nerves fill my throat in an unfamiliar sensation for a reason not related to this apology, she thought I was asking to marry her daughter.
I store that thought away in the recesses of my mind, I can’t even begin to fall down that rabbit hole of complication.
“I’m not the one who needs an apology.” Her tone is soft as she plucks at a deep red rose petal.
“Your daughter will get an apology from me for the rest of my life, if she chooses to let me continue to be in hers.” That grabs her attention again. “You deserve one too, you were with her when I wasn’t and it put an immense amount of unwarranted stress on you both. I hope you accept my sincerest apology, even if you decide I’m not worth your good graces.” I take a deep breath and speak from the heart with my next words. “In September I was given a challenge that I failed and it rocked my world in a way I’m not even sure I know how to handle even now. I thought that if I simply removed myself, she could continue on like she had before we met. I know now… I know now that was not the answer and it never will be.”
I notice her eyes begin to turn a little misty as she processes my words and it wrenches a little something in my chest, I didn’t want to make her mom cry.
“She makes me want to be better, do better.” I glance at the empty hallway, quiet this late in the afternoon. “I want to be someone she’s proud of, someone worthy of her, no matter how hard it is. I want you to be able to trust me with her, which is why it was important to tell you how sorry I am.”
After a moment of surveying my face, pure joy radiates from her pores as she rounds the end of the desk to face me fully.
“Of course I accept your apology,” she envelops me in what would be a bone crushing hug, “thank you.”
Relief courses through me as we separate, glad I decided to do this.
“I appreciate your apology and these gorgeous flowers,” she rubs my shoulder in such a soothing mom-manner before leveling me with a no-kidding look. “Whatever my daughter decides, goes.”
“Absolutely,” completely serious, “I am at her mercy and if she wants nothing to do with me, I’ll respect that.”
“I knew you were a good one.” She winks at me before returning to her seat with a smile. “Your dad should be finished with afternoon rounds, now that you got the hard part of your visit over.”
“It’s never hard, talking to a pretty lady.” Now it’s my turn to wink, she responds with a genuine laugh that makes me smile.
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mister Hale.” I take my leave as she resumes her typing.
Navigating back to my father’s office, I drop myself with relief into the chair in front of his immaculate desk.
“I’m pleased that went well, you did good.” He doesn’t even glance up at me, but the smile and his emotions oozing happiness tell me I did something right for once.
“One down, one to go.” I lean my head back in the chair and close my eyes, allowing myself to feel the relief of winning her mother over again.
“One down, one to go.” He repeats back, his smile evident in his voice.
I needed this win. I needed to succeed at something with this balled up mess in my chest.
Now I just need her.
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drawnfamiliarfaces · 1 month
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Okay, I'll continue talking! So as we all know, RC9GN frequently involves characters being turned into rampaging monsters through no real fault of their own. And then there's Evil Julian, who was a whole thing. What I'm saying is, the Ninja cast are not strangers to the idea of people being forced into evil the way Chase was... but I don't think Chase goes around telling people about his tragic backstory unless he's trying to make a point. So, like, do any of them know Chase is technically under the influence of a mind-altering substance? That he didn't want to be like this, he just didn't want his best friend to leave him behind? Under what circumstances might the First Ninja find out? Under what circumstances might Randy find out?
Of course, what happened to Chase is definitely not the same thing as what happens to people under the Sorcerer's influence. For one, it's a lot more permanent. It's pretty clear in Xiaolin Showdown that Chase is too far gone and can't be cured at this point, if he ever could have been. The only way to stop him from ending a haughty, self-centered dragon would be to stop him from drinking the soup to begin with. And he's still himself on some level. As you said, he still has honor, he can still care, he's still capable of independent rational thought. It seems less like possession and more like very targeted (evil) brain damage. At the same time, this does mean it's technically possible for Chase to turn his back on what he's become. He may never be who he was again, but he can still change, as Omi believes he can. Though jury's out if he believes he can change. Anyway, there's a lot of drama to be wrung out of this, especially if the First Ninja realizes he probably would have liked the man Chase used to be.
Also, I'm just saying, the First Ninja denying that he chained up his evil husband to stop Chase from hurting people while he searches for a cure to the curse that makes Chase evil would be very funny.
OKAY OW HANG ON LISTEN The idea of First deciding to chain up Chase not just because he is an evil menace, but also in order to find a cure for his transformation, hit me so unexpectedly hard in the feels, like FR DUDE???? OW???
(Even if it is a bit of funny mental image AND the wording 'targeted evil brain damage' made me snort so hard, oh my god im so sorry.)
There is an argument/theory about how technically Chase doesn't need to constantly drink the Soup (based on how in alternative future, captured by Jack, Chase didn't drink it in captivity, and as soon as he was released he was kinda bordering on 'feral' lizard mode - Soup helps him keep in control AND keep ahold of his human form, rather that he is absolutely dependant on it), but he does it because he is, well, basically addicted to it.
SO it would be more of First chaining his Evil Brain Damaged Addict of (totally not a) Husband in order for to find a most likely nonexisting cure to his cursed (????) transformation. The ANGST POTENTIAL of it.
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And your first points are so interesting and absolutely valid! Chase's situation can be compared to Stank-ification, but you know what would make an even more interesting comparison? The Sorcerer himself.
I think we often forget that technically, Sorcerer situation is him being separated from his humanity and twisted into an immortal monster by Chaos Pearls, because he - as the Peddler - made one decision, one mistake, after being seduced by power greater than him. Sounds familiar doesn't it?
Of course there are a few key differences here:
Sorcerer is literally separated with his human self (soul perhaps??) that is trapped in Land of Shadows, while Chase's humanity seems to have been surpressed and/or muted by his Draconic Self. (or perhaps stolen with his soul by Hannibal, which is a popular theory about how exactly Roy Bean/Soup turned Chase.)
Chase's change is permanent. While Sorcerer situation is possible to fix - it literally happens in the finale.
BUT!!! no one actually knew it was possible to fix before. At least no one gave any indication that it was a known fact about Sorcerer's humanity still existing somewhere in Chaos Realm/Land of Shadows.
I'm pretty sure First/Norisu Clan believed that the Sorcerer was a human changed and twisted into an immortal by chaos. Impossible to kill and impossible to return to normal - that's why he was imprisoned. To keep him contained.
I mean, couldn't First Ninja, after capturing The Sorcerer, try to get his human self from the Land of Shadows himself, if he knew? After all he had access to a Chaos Ball! But he didn't know there was anything to be recovered, that the Sorcerer could be actually unmade just by reuniting him with his human half.
(At least thats my personal HC, but im pretty sure the canon show just retconned/fumbled a bit the whole Sorcerer resolution lol.)
SO just imagine. First learns about Chase's past. And he is freaking aghast. Here is another twisted by evil, but while he and his brothers failed to save those changed that they first encountered (the 'killed first stanked monsters' theory tie in!), they managed to save those that came after. And if First could, he would have tried to save The Sorcerer, no matter how much he hates him. But... Chase is different. There is still something of humanity left in him. Perhaps he can save Chase.
And from Chase's pov? He sees how Ninja saved Stanked people, and he doesn't even consider those situations as similar to his. Sure, people are turned into monsters, but he was turned into a monster by his own choice, there is nothing to save him from. (Isn't there?)
But he watches as First releases those people from the clutches of chaos, watches as he tries so hard to save them... And maybe it makes him yearn, that someone tried just a little bit harder to save the 'him' before he made that choice.
And if First cages Chase and says: "I want to help you. To Cure you." It will certainly enrage Chase - because who does this man think he is, tryin to contain and cure THE Heylin Prince of Darkness, like he is some halpless trapped commoner??? He came to be long before this man's Clan existed and he will be there long after this man will become dust.
But also... maybe deep deep deep inside, Chase is... confused? and pleased? - that someone like Fist Ninja grew to care enough for him to try and save him, even if there is nothing to be saved.
So they would be at this standstill, where First is trying to help a cause that isnt quite possible to fix, and Chase is... well, being Chase.
But, yeah, certainly another amazing thought process from you Anon <3, I've been trying to answer this ask for so long, because every time i start to write i get overcome with emotions about those scenarios like...damn. It's funny, but also the possible drama of all of this... hnnnfgggg
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eli0004 · 20 days
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Okay. So I loved loved loved your relationship HC canons. They were so well written and I loved him❤
But can I also request Levi falling in love HCs? Like I can imagine him being in love but for the love of God I can not imagine how he would fall in love with someone. Like what certain characteristics would he like? Bold? Calm? Sunshine? Introverted? And how will he be attracted to them? Would it be easy for him to accept his feelings or will he be in denial?
Like please please please.... I love the way you write Levi. So please.
-🌼
Absolutely! I love this topic actually, it’s something I’ve thought a lot about! 🖤 I hope you enjoy!
Genre: Fluff
Summary: How does Levi Ackerman fall in love, and what is his ideal type?
Warnings: None, maybe some talk of insecurity?
Levi is a December Capricorn. December Caps are known for being highly emotional, but struggling with emotional expression. They’re also usually very uptight and disciplined, and tend to take a practical approach when dealing with situations as opposed to flying by the seat of their pants. Obviously these traits are pretty accurate to Levi’s character. A Capricorn’s most ideal match are typically Taurus or Virgos. Commonly known Tausus/Virgo traits are passion, stubbornness, dependability, logic and communication.
Now, obviously you don’t have to be a Taurus or Virgo to be loved by Levi, but think with that in mind, Levi would do best with someone who is very strong willed and independent. He’s not the type of guy who wants to be with someone he has to keep his eye on. Emotional maturity and practical thinking are very important traits to him when looking for a partner, and someone who can communicate well is very attractive to him, since he has a harder time putting his feelings into words.
He likes someone who is genuine, trustworthy and dependable. Someone who has a strong sense of justice and empathy, who defends and advocates for others when they are unable to defend themselves.
I think he likes a good mix of pessimism and optimism. He’s a pessimist himself, so if you’re too optimistic it may irritate him rather than help, he prefers someone who is more of a realist. Someone who doesn’t enable his negativity, but who helps him to think rationally instead.
Like i said before, i think Levi is a deeply emotional person. If you’re only looking surface level, it wouldn’t be obvious, but when you breakdown a lot of his character traits in the show itself, it’s pretty clear that he tends to be swayed by his emotions. I think he would know immediately when he falls in love.
He’s the type of guy who’s always in his head, he thinks a lot, visiting the past, pondering the future. When he starts to catch his pondering turning into fantasizing about a life with you, doing domestic things, and being cozy together, that’s when it hits him.
But I think he’s also deeply insecure, not so much about his looks, but his personality. His ability to love again after having lost so many people. Whether or not you deserve someone better. He’s used to being misread as unapproachable or mean, so somewhere along the way, i think he might have begun to believe those things.
I think it would mean a lot to him if you just treated him like a normal person. Not humanities strongest, not mean or unapproachable, or someone to be pitied for his struggles. Just let him be Levi, and praise him for who he is in his soul.
All that said, i don’t think he would be the one to make a move 💀 because he’s so in his head, i think he’d be too worried that he’s misread the situation and that you don’t see him that way, perhaps you’re just being nice. He’s extremely oblivious to flirting.
But if you catch on first and decide to shoot your shot, he will be absolutely flabbergasted. He’s looking over his shoulder like “do you mean- are you talking to me?” Before that moment, he’s mostly convinced that he’ll be pining in silence for the rest of your lives.
Levi blushes. A lot. He’s very pale in complexion, so the smallest bit of flirting or teasing has heat spreading over his face, and it’s painfully obvious.
So when you’ve got him face to face, telling him how you feel about him, he may not be able to respond in beautiful poetic words, but his body language is enough to tell you how he feels.
He won’t make eye contact, he’s all red faced and bouncing his leg and gripping his teacup with so much force, you’d think it was going to crumble. And oh- what’s that? An ever-so- subtle, happy little grin; completely involuntary, he couldn’t stop it even if he tried. He feels boyish and vulnerable, but it’s strangely nice.
Your relationship with Levi is not a secret, but it is private. He values your time together, as it helps him to decompress. He all but melts in your embrace after a particularly hard day, and It’s crucial that you respect his desire for privacy, the level of raw emotion and vulnerability with these new experiences is something that he’s entrusted you with and that means everything to him.
And on the subject of new experiences, the more you handle him with care and allow him to process his feelings without judgment, the less he’ll worry about not being good enough, and you’ll find that he’s a very good and attentive lover.
Even still, you’ll find from time to time that reassurance is something Levi needs like he needs air to breathe, and this can come in the form of many things, like remembering little details about the things he loves, taking care of some of his responsibilities when he’s feeling overwhelmed, quiet touches when he lacks the energy to speak.
Having someone who sees him for who he is and loves all his broken pieces is what Levi finds comfort in while he’s nestled in your arms at night, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world.
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whumpshaped · 6 months
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Thing I'd read for forever: Whumpees who don't think they're people
There's a moment in Linden and Colton in a flashback when Colton breaks and he disregards his own personhood bc "this was too awful to happen to a person" so he doesn't believe he is a person. These things don't happen to people, therefore he must not be one
It's makes me feral! LIKE YES! RATIONALIZE IT!
Even better if they get questioned on their logic and they straight up do not understand.
My absolute favorite thing is a caretaker being like "well you're a human so you must be a person, right?" And whumpee is like "no. not a person. obviously." Literally believing they're built different from other humans. Just how it is.
Like how do you even combat that logic?? You don't. Sorry. This is Whumpee's worldview now. Good luck.
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tw dehumanisation, conditioned whumpee, past trauma with multiple whumpers
"I appreciate it," Whumpee said softly. "I do. You're... you're very kind to me, and I know you're trying to comfort me, and it means a lot."
Caretaker listened, unsure where this monologue was going. They knew Whumpee had a lot of issues, a lot of new triggers they had to watch out for and avoid. Had they missed one? Had they upset them in some way?
"But I'm sure there are people who need you. I know– I know this is your decision, and you decide whether you want to waste all this energy on a useless thing like me, but... but if you care for my opinion at all, and you seem like you do, because you're s-so nice, then... then stop wasting time on me. I'm okay. Whatever duty you have in mind for me, I, I can start doing it today."
Caretaker hummed. "The person who needs me right now is you."
Whumpee shook their head a little. "Not a person."
They didn't flinch. They continued holding Whumpee's hands in their own, rubbing circles into the backs of them. "No?"
"Just a thing. A thing to use. I don't need such kind attention, though I am endlessly grateful for it." They shifted, averting their eyes. "I had to say something. I couldn't keep lying and taking advantage of such a kind person. I'm sorry I didn't speak up right away."
"You couldn't," Caretaker reminded them. "You were unconscious when I found you and barely conscious in the following days."
Whumpee didn't have a reply to that, but their guilt was palpable.
"How come you're not a person?" they asked gently. "You seem like one to me."
"I thought so, too. When I was still stupid and useless and arrogant. Bad. But Master taught me what I was. Showed me."
"Showed you?"
"Yes. They stopped pretending I was a person. They treated me like a thing, like I deserved to be treated, and no one said anything. You wouldn't have been able to treat a person like that. Somebody would've said something."
Caretaker tried not to let it show just how crushing those words sounded. Even through such a casual retelling — or maybe because it was so casual, like it was normal, — they could picture everything too vividly. A poor soul trapped in that horrible place, with monsters who brainwashed them to the point where it was all Whumpee knew. Trapped in a small world of torture and humiliation until they gave up the memories and the experiences of their life from before.
"I see," they forced out.
"I'm sorry if that was upsetting, I was just trying to answer truthfully and–"
"I know. You didn't do anything wrong."
Whumpee fell silent, their fearful eyes searching Caretaker's face for any lies or deception.
"For the time being, why don't you think of this little recovery period as maintenance?" they suggested carefully. "Would that make more sense to you?"
"Maintenance?"
"Yes. Repairs, even. Getting you back to full working order instead of pushing you to your limits with barely any rest time over and over again for no reason. You wouldn't do that to a thing you intended to keep for a long time."
Whumpee thought about it. Caretaker could almost hear the cogs turning. "I don't think I was meant to be kept for a long time," they whispered.
Caretaker squeezed their hands, prompting them to look up. "Yes, you were. If Whumper got to treat you however they saw fit, then it's only fair I get to do the same, right? And I would like to treat you like you matter, person or not."
~
general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpkinpie @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @whump-em @cyborg0109 @morning-star-whump @justanotherlokifan @2in1whump @lthrboy @justletmereadmywhump @florissimps @anonymous-tiangou
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k-s-morgan · 2 months
Text
Those Gentle Slopes: Snippet
Thought to share a final snippet before the posting of the chapter! Have some protective Sebastian and unhinged Ciel)) Also, I have to say that when I'll be writing this chapter from Sebastian's POV, it will be probably creepier than anything that happened so far. He broke my plans and started getting a lot more physical than I expected, having a couple of unplanned realizations. Huh. I love the mystery writing.
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“Sebastian,” he barked. His commanding tone must have reached some part of Sebastian’s brain because he turned his head slightly, but he still didn’t let go, and this was infuriating as much as it was flattering.
Looked like not sensing his soul didn’t make Sebastian any less willing to protect him. He still got angry on Ciel’s behalf — angry enough to ignore his orders and common sense.
Good. But unacceptable. If speaking didn’t work…
Ciel stepped out from behind Sebastian and wrapped his hand around his wrist. Shivers of strange, heady heat blossomed all over his body when he sank into the inviting unnatural energy Sebastian was radiating, feeling it sing under his touch. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his head cool, but fortunately, Randall’s gurgling sounds helped a little.
And it seemed like he’d already succeeded in something — Sebastian was staring at him now, the deadly redness of his stare quickly softening to a more human shade. Holding his gaze, Ciel tapped against his wrist in rapid succession, recreating the secret language they had devised a long time ago.
Stop. This is an order. You’re still mine, you have to obey me.
He wasn’t certain it would work any better than his verbal commands did, but something about his new approach must have finally gotten through. Sebastian released his grip and let Randall crash to the floor like a sack of sand. He seemed far more interested in Ciel now — one of his hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, and another one touched his chin, tilting his head back to reveal his neck.
The futility of this evaluation was blatantly apparent. Randall hadn’t managed to touch him, so whatever damage Sebastian was checking him for couldn’t be there. It was absolutely ridiculous, but for some reason, Ciel didn’t protest. He stood there patiently, allowing Sebastian to examine him to his satisfaction.
Finally, Sebastian hummed in contentment and let him go. Almost. His fingers slid down to Ciel’s wrist and stayed there, holding it firmly but unobtrusively. His attention returned to Randall’s panting form, and this time, Ciel caught the moment when the darkness flared in his eyes.
“Let me make one thing clear,” Sebastian uttered. A smile touched his lips, but it was as far from what a smile was supposed to be that even Ciel found it disturbing. “If you attempt to inflict any kind of damage on my Master again, the next time your family sees you, you will be chopped into more pieces than your daughter will be able to count. Perhaps I will feed your liquefied remains to her. Would you like that?”                
The desire for something Ciel couldn’t identify took over his rational thoughts again. He almost swayed on his feet, his skin burning, his lips parting in a pleased sigh. More waves of joy crashed into him when Sebastian placed his shoe on Randall’s ankle and pressed against it carefully. His movements seemed feather-light, but the bone cracked anyway, followed by Randall’s pained shout.
“It’s not broken,” Sebastian noted disdainfully. “Consider it your warning. You will leave this house and you will not bring anything that happened here up with anyone. Because I know where you live, and I know how to slip into places unnoticed.” The sharp grin he gave Randall was downright frightening, but Ciel felt like he could drown in it. He shook his head, hoping it would be enough to sober him up. His body was behaving in an increasingly odd way, and it was getting tedious to make sense of its incomprehensive needs and demands.
Wheezing but trying to keep all the sounds locked in his mouth, Randall stood up. He nearly fell down, a pained grimace twisting his red face. What was even more fascinating was the wetness of frustrated tears shining in his eyes. The sight was completely unprecedented, and Ciel stared at it greedily, committing every inch of it to memory.
“You may not believe it right now,” Randall said, his voice hoarse, “but there will be a reckoning. One day, the both of you monsters will die, and I’ll become the last thing you see.”
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whore-for-chris-evans · 2 months
Text
I lack the wisdom required to write this fic, but I hope someone skilled enough takes the initiative to.
Have any of you ever thought about Steve Rogers waking up from the ice and not going back to fighting?
He wakes up, Fury tells him he needs him, and Steve makes a choice for himself and says no, at least for now. Fury respects that choice, Steve gets a therapist (a good one, not Dr. Christina Passive-Aggressive Raynor) and uses his second chance in life to do the things he actually wanted to. Art. History. Maybe he goes to college again.
On top of all this, he figures out the internet (come on, he's a smart man. He's not gonna be clueless forever) and you know golden boy Steve would jump at the chance of using social media for a good cause.
And I also think Steve would be great at debates. The fucker (affectionate) has a way with words. He's also a nerd. He's well informed and has quick thinking skills. He gets into online fights a lot. Tweets and retweets a hell lot.
Gets Tumblr. (Steve would love tumblr don't lie to me) Reblogs things like it's his last day on earth. (But somehow makes sure to utilise the tag feature perfectly so everything is organised).
Some dudebro makes a misogynistic comment and he's there to verbally drop kick Dudebro into the next week.
Somebody makes an offhand comment regarding something historical and Steve gets his trusty motorcycle and drives his star spangled fine ass to the library and the next day there's a video circulating the internet of him citing sources (down the page number, paragraph number and line number) to prove why the offhand comment was grossly incorrect.
Someone angrily reposts his tweet saying "THAT IS NOT THE AMERICA OF MY DREAMS TALKING" and Steve proceeds to respond with "I'm a person. I can't be a country. What I can try to be is a good human being." and then absolutely demolishes the other person. (Yes to Steve reclaiming himself as Steve Rogers and not Captain America)
He also posts art. Like, everyday. But it gets slightly overshadowed by everything else he does and says.
He has a separate Instagram. For more personal stuff. Pictures of himself? Rarely. Pictures of birds and animals and trees and sunrises and sunsets? Absolutely. Pictures of the cat and the dog he rescued and now is a proud dad to? Everyday. (He's definitely a both person.) Maybe someday he'll step out of his comfort zone and start going live. Everyone loves him. Everyone rational, that is.
He stays away from tiktok.
2014. Fury shows up at his apartment and gets shot. Something stirs in Steve's brain as the masked assassin catches his shield. Those eyes seem familiar. Despite his reservations, he jumps back into the fray. The whole CATWS thing happens.
He finds Bucky. Brings him home. Fights tooth and nail for the charges against him to be dropped. He's got 70 years of military back-pay, he's got no problem getting the best lawyers (Matt Murdock is definitely among them) for the love of his life.
Anyways Bucky is set free. Moves in with Steve. People start gushing over him too. He stays out of Steve's internet life at first, but then the old Bucky comes back little by little. Maybe he'll join the livestreams. Maybe he'll make an Instagram of his own to post more of Steve.
People, being people, start shipping them. The two of them have a good laugh over it.
One day, out of nowhere, Steve shows up on one of his livestreams wearing a wedding ring. Comments go crazy. Bucky joins him on the couch, throws an arm around his shoulder, flashing his own matching band, smirking lazily.
The rest is mayhem. But they don't care. For Steve, life is perfect.
[I'd love to see Steve Rogers vs internet troll he'd eat that up]
I hope the good Steve Rogers authors see this. This has potential I think.
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bonefall · 3 months
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are there any bb!cats with schizophrenia or that regularly experience psychosis? people absolutely suck about mental illness so like. seeing characters like me going thru life and being treated like people and not monsters for something out of their control never fails to put a smile on my face! thank you for all the research and effort you put into making sure your disabled cats are not only believable but human. pd: cinderheart with bpd is an extremely based headcanon
Not yet but it's on my radar, plus NPD. The reason why I feel so unflappably confident with BPD is because I know and love people who have it, and I hate that I don't see any characters who are like them! So I feel like I'm really good at handling it, and knowing what's wanted in portrayals of it. It feels very personally important to me.
Pair that with the fact I write BB!Clans as canonically struggling with ableism and all these being so heavily stigmatized irl, I've gotta be REALLY careful with NPD and psychosis. I'm less connected to them so personally and I don't want to accidentally strike a nerve, you get me?
That said... I got an ask a while back that I'd been thinking about a lot, basically asking me about how Clan Culture would see psychosis in the first place. I've actually always been fascinated by how deeply schizophrenia is affected by the culture of the afflicted, so I've been idly thinking about that for a while without sharing those thoughts.
OH WAIT hangon let me explain some stuff about Schizophrenia and psychosis for people in the audience!!
Schizophrenia used to be diagnosed in subtypes before 2013. This is no longer accurate! A lot like Autism, it's a spectrum of symptoms that affect people differently. It's a cognitive disorder that messes with rational and organized thinking, and that can express in all sorts of ways.
One of the symptoms is hallucinations. It's The Famous symptom of it, but it's not actually something you NEED to have to be Schizophrenic. Not all people who are having hallucinations or delusions are Schizophrenic, either! I want to include an OCD character of some kind who experiences some mild auditory hallucinations, actually. The type where it's just random mumbling.
Delusions and hallucinations aren't the same thing Delusions are false beliefs and hallucinations are false experiences. An example of a delusion is, "If I don't click my pen three times, my family will die." An example of a hallucination is hearing voices.
PEOPLE WITH PSYCHOSIS ARE FAR MORE LIKELY TO BE THE VICTIMS OF VIOLENCE THAN TO COMMIT IT Feel like this is common knowledge in this space, and especially within my own following since I make a lot of art about mental illness and awareness, but it's always worth repeating.
So anyway
If you compare psychosis between cultures, you actually end up seeing VERY different expressions of the hallucinations. For example, in some cultures, voice hallucinations tend to say things that are negative or abusive, while other cultures hear significantly more positive, playful voices.
This doesn't mean that they're always less distressing. For example, the study above points out that Nigerian students (reported to hear lots of playful hallucinations) experience as much distress as Dutch students (tend to experience negative, abusive voices) during their psychotic episodes.
Still, there does seem to be a correlation with "less distress" and cultures that encourage psychotic people to see their hallucinations as positive, personal things. Even more interestingly, distress seems to be correlated with income and individualism in a culture.
But it doesn't stop there, the findings are fascinating.
Delusions of grandeur are rare in societies that discourage that sort of social mobility, reflecting social values.
Cultures that believe religious experiences are specific experiences-- like certain smells, temperatures, or sounds, will see those reflected in psychotic episodes
Yet, "voices" seem to be something seen across ALL cultures studied. Though some have more prevalence of random sounds and mumbling than others, they all share some expression of "voices that say stuff."
SO all that to say-- if I include psychosis it's definitely going to be trying to take the culture of each Clan into account, and I need to do a lot more research into what sorts of things people with schizophrenia and various types of psychosis want to see more often.
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leohamatoblog · 1 month
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His Feelings: Leo Imagine
warnings: none, gender neutral reader. sfw, fluff. turtles are 22-25
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Leo always found himself trying to be his best self every day. A perfectionist, if you will. He trains hard, keeps his head level, and thinks way more with his head than his heart. At times it was a curse more than a blessing because he may seem cold. It's not intentional but he has a lot on his plate and on his shoulders.
He tries not to get close to anyone outright for safety reasons. He's skeptical and needs to make sure this person is more of an asset than a liability. He trusts Vern, April, and Casey with his life, which is saying a lot. The police officers at the NYPD? Not so much. Then you showed up.
You were a social worker/officer/CSI that transferred from a different state. You were assigned to accompany the turtles on their missions when they helped out the police. You were still young, in your early 20's, so you had a lot to learn. You knew they could probably teach you a lot so you accepted.
The guys, especially Mikey and Donnie, warmed up to you rather quickly. Raph came around after meeting you a few times but Leo was still somewhat distant. He was friendly with you of course, but he found himself scared of what this meant.
He prided himself on being rational and not allowing his feelings to get the better of him, but you were slowly, and unknowingly, throwing a wrench into that.
Mikey decided after working with you for a month that you absolutely had to join them for dinner one night. You met Splinter, who was glad to meet you finally after hearing so much. You knew you'd have to fully gain his trust but you knew he would become a second father to you eventually.
Leo didn't ignore you but didn't acknowledge you at the same time. Your presence made him uneasy. He felt anxious and on edge everytime he saw you. He was great at hiding it because his father, his brothers, or April and Casey had yet to say anything. It still hurt your feelings though.
As the months turned in to a year, you came by the lair more and more often. Mikey stole you to play video games, Raph liked to talk work stuff and help you with it, and Donnie just liked talking to you while he worked. You were nice company and actually listened to him. Leo, however, still couldn't bring himself to get close to you.
"Have you thought about what I suggested?" Donnie asked you, helping you fix your laptop.
"The training thing?" You asked, shrugging your shoulders. "I don't know, Donnie."
"You're associated with us, which puts you in danger by default." He responded, pushing his glasses up. "We all agree you need to know how to protect yourself."
"Leo wasn't in on that." You told him, crossing your arms. "I don't think he wants me to."
"Don't be ridiculous, of course he does!" Donnie replied, playfully nudging your elbow.
"Leo doesn't like me, Donnie." You pointed out.
Leo could hear your conversation through the wall, unbeknownst to you and Donnie. He did like you, a lot, and that was his problem. April confronted him a few months ago about his withdrawn behavior and then she made him realize what he was feeling. Now everytime you're around, he feels like he has to avoid you more.
It wasn't that he didn't want to get to know you, in fact he knew a lot about you because he was observant. He knew your favorite foods, favorite movies, and he even knew how you took your tea/coffee. He's memorized your little quirks and how you laugh, hell he could even tell it was you by your footsteps.
He couldn't possibly tell you how he felt. He was sure of his feelings but it could never work. He was a turtle, you a human. He couldn't take you on dates or show you off to anyone. He couldn't buy you presents or marry you. If you wanted kids, he couldn't give you that. He couldn't provide for you like a human boyfriend would.
"I think you should talk to him." Donnie told you honestly. "He may be a prude sometimes but he isn't hard to talk to."
Gee thanks Donnie. Leo thought to himself, rolling his eyes.
"I think I will. Thanks, Dee." You told him, patting his arm.
Leo could tell you left the lab and was making your way to his room, so he quickly went back to cleaning his katana. He could smell your perfume/cologne as you came in to his doorway. At this moment, he hated his acute sense of smell.
"Yes?" Leo asked, not looking up from his katana.
"Leo," you started, "can we talk?"
Your voice was so sweet and how you said his name made him all the more queasy.
"What about?" He replied, looking up from his katana.
You were in his doorway, your arms around your stomach. Your cheeks were slightly flushed due to the coolness of the lair. Your body was so small in his eyes and your eyes, your eyes seemed a shade (eye color) brighter than normal. Your hair was slightly touseled and looked so soft.
"Um," you cleared your throat, "I just wanted to ask if I did something wrong?"
You could never do anything wrong.
"What do you mean?" He asked, his forehead crinkling in confusion.
"Well, you just seem to not like me very much and I just want to make sure I didn't offend or upset you." You explained, walking further in to his room.
"Oh." He cleared his throat. "No, no you didn't."
"Then...why do you avoid me...?" You carefully asked.
Leo froze. "I...don't mean to."
"But you do." You replied, your voice growing more confident.
Leo set his katana behind him and stood up. He stood a good foot taller than you. He adored that he was bigger than you and hated it at the same time. He hated it because you two couldn't sneak anywhere and loved it because he could easily shield you from harm.
"Look, Y/N, I can't afford to get close to many people." He said, crossing his arms. "It's dangerous."
"You got close to April and Casey..even Vern." You pointed out.
"That's different."
"How is that different?"
I care for you differently.
Leo didn't know how to respond to you. His body language was suggesting he was guarding himself. You now looked annoyed, almost hurt. You came late in the game no argument there, but that didn't mean you couldn't share a friendship like April's or like Casey's, even Vern's!
"It just is." He mumbled, looking down. He could see the hurt flash on your face, he felt ashamed.
"I have tried so hard to be nice to you and you can't even acknowledge me with a hi." You snapped, shaking your head.
"That's the problem!" He snapped. He couldn't help it.
"My niceness is the problem?" You asked, your eyebrows furrowing. "For God's sake, Leonardo, grow up!"
"That's not what I-" he sighed, running his hand over his face. "-I didn't mean it like that."
You shook your head. "Don't worry cause from this day forward, I won't be nice to you."
You turned on your heel and went to walk out but he grabbed your bicep gently.
"You have the most wonderful laugh." He admitted.
You slowly turned around. "What?"
"Your laugh...it's wonderful." He told you, swallowing thickly. "You have this-this thing you do when you're happy where your nose crinkles up."
"I don't understand." You said, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Your niceness is a problem because it's giving me this problem and I can't shake it." Leo said, letting go of your bicep. "It's not that I don't like you, it's actually more than that."
"I'm listening." You said, crossing your arms.
Leo shuffled his feet awkwardly. How did humans do this? Never in his life had he ever had to be so vulnerable and openly admit to something so big, besides the purple ooze incident. He felt cornered, scared even, but not cause you're making him that way...but you are.
"You make me feel so weak but not in a harmful way, more like in my chest. I see you and I falter. I just," he shakes his head, "I can't get over what you've done to me. It's like it gets worse when you're here."
"You...don't like the way I make you feel?" You asked, confusion covering your face. You had an idea of what he was trying to say but you needed to hear exactly what it was. Leo was a man of few words so this word vomit he was giving you came as a huge surprise.
"You make my head spin everytime you laugh. You make my chest get this weird feeling everytime you walk in a room. Then when you're doing your job, it's something I could watch for hours and never get bored." He explained, walking closer to you. "But your smile and your kindness? Those make me so weak in the knees that I feel like I'll crumble."
"Leo..." You whispered, your breath hitching slightly at the closeness.
"I can't give you what you deserve." He mumbled. "You deserve proper dates and proper support and I can't give you that. I avoided you because I hated the fact that I can't have you how you deserve. I can't buy you things or give you children/adopt a child and I can't do spontaneous outings to public places." He shook his head. "You need someone-"
"-How do you know what I need?" You asked, putting your hands on his biceps.
His whole heart skipped a beat.
"Y/N-"
"-Let me finish." You cut him off again, looking up at his icy blue eyes. "I want someone who is kind and smart and selfless. Someone who has a back bone but is able to compromise. Someone who can make me laugh or keep me in check when I'm losing my mind. I want someone who can be my best friend, partner, and lover at the same time. I don't need fancy dates or-or gifts, and I don't need children. Leo," you moved your hands to his, "I need something real and someone who feels like home. I need someone who makes me feel safe and most importantly, loved and wanted."
Leo's much larger hands held yours securely. He knew you were being sincere but he was still scared. What would his father say? His brothers, what would they think? He had a city to protect and a family to watch out for.
"The risks-"
"-I know." You replied. "I can take it."
"Oh just kiss already!" Raph's voice rang through the wall, making you jump. "I'm tryna watch a movie!"
Leo groaned and glared at the wall. You, however, started to laugh.
"Raph!" Leo shouted in annoyance. He looked at you. "I'm sorry, where were we?"
You gave one last chuckle and reached up, cupping his face. "I think doing what Raph wants us to hurry up and do."
Leo only smiled at you before slowly leaning down, connecting his lips with yours. It was soft and a bit awkward due to it being his first ever kiss. He was a quick study and quickly learned the rhythm.
"Finally! Donnie!!! You owe me $20!" Mikey's voice rang from the door way. You jumped.
"Ow!" Leo yelped, holding his lip. "Mikey!"
"Uh oh." Mikey mumbled, running out of the door way.
You were biting back a smile as Leo went to run out after him, but not before giving you one last peck on the lips.
"Excuse me while I go kill him." Leo said, running out and after Mikey.
You shook your head and smiled. You can't take the boy out of the man, no matter how infacuated he is with you.
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awyeahitssam · 2 months
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My Writing Masterlist
Since I post on here far more consistently then on ao3 for reasons, I figured I would compile a list of my writing for those who don't like sifting through fandoms they could care less about to get to the good stuff. 
Separated by fandom, and somewhat by trope. 
Harry Potter:
Harry eats a God. 
Harry just can't seem to stay dead. TW: Suicide, character death, frequent character death, torture, murder, disjointed snippets, discontinued + Harry dissociates. Connected, same warnings may apply. 
First Encounters: Time loop, Voldemort-as-Quirrell visits the Dursleys and is less than pleased. 
First Encounters: The first time Harry meets Voldemort, the man he's been trained to kill all his life, he's nineteen, and Voldemort recognizes him. 
Prisoner Harry tells Voldemort about the Dursleys like it's a bedtime story. 
Except for the incident, Harry really doesn't tend to talk a lot when he has a concussion. Stream of thought narrative, character injury.
Literally just Empath!Harry spoilers. Harry, at his trial, allowing himself be petty to an extent. 
Harry gets drunk, pulled into Voldemort's mind, and decides he wants to share his good mood.
Tea shop AU.  + more  Tea Shop (weather) AU. + something actually Tea-based under the cut
Four of a Kind AU: Learning to kiss split-scene. Harry/Harry, referenced Harry/Horcrux + They meet. They kiss. What if. Voldemort/Harry + In the aftermath Voldemort/Harry
Kid Fic: Harry ‘dies’ as a child. Mentor!Voldemort, absolutely not a pairing ficlet. 
Kid Fic: Harry and Voldemort’s kid lands in the past during a duel at the Ministry. Pre-Harrymort, Micah, not quite the kiss you'd expect.
Female Harry, world-jumping, rationally angry. Tom/Harry intended, if Harry will chill out on the murder. 
Harry likes to feel pretty. Horcrux/Harry, Harry wears makeup, etc. 
Tom and Harry jump through time to each other. Tomarry, growing up, fluff, brief kissing, Harry’s older
Dragon AU, I have a lot more of this one written, I should dump that some day. Harry/Horcruxes
Harry/Tom: pillow forts, soft angst, unresolved, broken promises
Harry's really fucking sick and tired of being told what the fuck to do. 
Tom-after-Voldemort is the first person Harry has ever spoken to. Isolation, lighthearted, odd, old and forgotten. 
Harry never imagines the effect getting a boyfriend would have on Riddle. Jealous Tom. 
Harry messes with Diary!Tom
Harry and Voldemort have to complete a task based on the colour of the others' robes, for some reason?
Harry is kidnapped and wakes up in an incredibly comfortable bed. Voldemorts knows Harry is his horcrux.
Harry ruthlessly defends Hogwarts against encroaching Death Eaters. Sixth Year.
It's one paragraph guys.
Prompt-based: Tom possesses Harry when he's afraid. Hermione POV.
Prompt-based: Santa forgot about Harry, again.
Prompt-based: Tom watches Harry draw dirty, dirty things at church.
Teen Wolf, all at least peripherally intended as Stiles/Peter
Kid Fic + Genderbend + Time Travel: Stiles is in the past and nobody is raising Malia, so she sure as shit will.
Stiles has known about werewolves since he was nine, and now that he's off the college it seems his dad has gottten involved. No Hale Fire, Protective Stiles
The first thing Kate does when she comes back to Beacon Hills is kidnap Peter. Human!Alpha Stiles, eventual Steter, pre-slash
Stiles has the curse of obedience. Stiles/Peter
Flower shop AU! Ft. Petty Peter and insulting bouquets.
Peter says he hates Stiles. Stiles begs to differ. 
Werewolf Stiles wakes up in the middle of Beacon Hills woods naked, and tries to keep it low key from there. Bakery AU, kinda. Peter/Stiles
First Encounters: The Hale pack summons Stiles to the past. 
First Encounters: The first time Stiles meets Peter he is drunk. Stiles is a rude, very straight-forward drunk who steps all over issues like dead family and psychosis. It’s like he had a minefield map and is intentionally stepping on every trigger. 
Stiles meets Peter in the hospital.
Stiles pulls back because he doesn't want Peter to mess up his dress shirt, not because he doesn't want the bite. 
Stiles crochets magic shit. Fluff. 
Negotiations go well. 
Peter being the literal worst, holy hell, this hurts to read. Have some angst. Past-Stiles/Peter
Okay, my bad for that last one. Have some comfort. Crying, comfort, Stiles & Peter
Dragon Stiles is constantly underestimated. 
Stiles beats Peter, sore loser extraordinaire. 
Me acting like Stiles has shame for some reason.
Female Stiles gets forcibly genderbent and is not putting up with anybody's shit. Body dysmorphia, shitty friends, anger issues, sexism. Peter/Stiles
Female Stiles and Peter. Shower, soft.
Stiles writes smutty fanfic, as he should. 
Stiles being a bad influence on his little self, ft Knowing Himself Too Fucking Well. Time travel AU, torture
Peter walks away. 
Peter/Stiles, marking, one of the sexiest things I've ever written imo 
Peter is dumb, stupid, silly villain. 
Peter’s timing is about as good as Stiles’ filter. Dumb, stupid villain antics. 
Stiles threatens Peter, /lh
Stiles is justifiably sad after a movie. 
Tony Stark-centric:
Gen: Tony takes after Maria. Few people recognize a predator wrapped up in such Tony packaging. 
Gen: Tony bantering with, and teasing, Peter. 
Tony Stark uses the infinity stones. 
Tony survives the stones. 
Tony proposes. In public. In a way that undeniably affirms his feelings. Loki/Tony
Loki meets Morgan for the first time. Loki/Tony, kid fic
Hair Kink—I mean braiding! Aha, ha, ha… Loki/Tony
Female Toni doesn't take well to her children being threatened. 
Soulmates? Tony/Loki
Rhodey gives Loki the shovel talk ft. Parks & Rec
Tony saves the day…?
Bleach / Time travel: Ichigo isn't supposed to be here. 
The 100: Cage Wallace stages a coup before the forty-eight arrive. (Or: Dante Wallace dies before his time.) This changes everything.
Tagged: 10 Characters, 10 Fandoms, 10 Shorts
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