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black-aurora-nora · 1 year

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Sibling Squabbles | Yandere!Superman and Jon x Teen!Reader

“Jon, please get out the way.” You demanded in an even tone.

The younger boy didn’t budge from his spot in front of the door. His gaze held firm and he shook his head, “Dad said you couldn’t leave.”

“Clark doesn’t hold authority over me.” You reminded him matter of factly, “He’s not my father and I’m not your sister.”

Jon frowned deeply at your words, “Dad said you’d have a hard time-“

“Move, Jon!” You demanded again, louder.

You moved up to him, trying to shuffle past him with your backpack filled with a few essentials.

“Where would you even go?! You were homeless before this!”

“And? At least I wasn’t stuck in some house with creepy men!” You rebutted angrily, grabbing for the doorknob.

Jon grabbed your wrist, gripping it tight, “I’m not creepy! And neither is my dad! Take that back!” He knew that his dad told him to be gentle with you since you were still settling down but you were going too far.

“No! I mean it! You’re creepy!” You repeated sharply, trying to wrestle your wrist from Jon’s grip. “Ugh! It’s no wonder your mom left-!”

A sickening crack sounded from your wrist and you saw it crinkle in a way it wasn’t supposed to then a horrible pain that left you screaming from both the shock of what happened and the pain.

Jon stood frozen, breathing uneven.

He looked from your crumpled arm to your snotty face.

He hadn’t meant to hurt you. His father had warned him plenty of times to use his powers for good and here he was hurting you because you said something hurtful.

“I-I’m- (Y/N), I’m so-!” He reached out to you and you jerked back violently with a yelp.

“Stay the fuck away from me!” You snapped, opening the door with your good hand and running out towards the trail that led to the city.

Jon decided it best that he not follow you.

He knew you wouldn’t escape now anyhow. You were far too hurt and in too much shock to get far enough. And no one would allow a young teen like you to walk around with a broken arm if you did make it to the city.

The next time he saw you, which was a day later, his father had brought you back home with a blue cast on your arm.

You looked exhausted, pissed off, and every other negative emotion that people could feel.

Clark had you both in the living room and glanced at the two of you sternly. He looked at you first with an expectant gaze.

“(Y/N), apologize to your brother.” He said, arms crossed.

You kept your gaze on the cast for a moment.

A deep breath in, “Sorry.”

“You can do better than that.” Clark wasn’t one that took apologies lightly. You had to put your full heart into it. “Remember what we talked about at the doctor’s.”

Another deep breath, “Sorry for saying stuff about your mother.” You gritted out, “And about you… I didn’t mean it.” Your voice was incredibly monotone but Clark knew that was the best they were going to get from you right now.

He knew there’d be plenty more altercations in the future to teach you how to apologize properly and honestly.

He turned to Jon, “Be more careful in the future,” He reminded him simply, “And apologize to your sister.”

Jon’s lip wobbled as he gazed at you and you wished great harm upon him. How dare he act like he was the one that had been victimized? Like he was innocent?

How dare Clark make you apologize first when Jon had hurt you? Now you were stuck in a cast and had been set back.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I won’t do that ever again and I forgive you.” He gave you a teary smile, “I know you’re having a hard time and I should’ve kept my anger in check.”

Clark smiled warmly, “Try to keep the sibling squabble to a minimum, okay, you two?” He patted you both on the head.

He then stood up and made his way to the kitchen, “Who wants breakfast?” He asked, tying an apron around his person, “I’m thinking waffles, eggs and bacon!”

Jon licked his lips, “I’ll have some! Can I help?!” He asked excitedly, running after his father.

“Of course you can, Jon.” You heard Clark answer from the kitchen, “(Y/N), come join us.”

God you hated them with every fiber of your being.

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correlance · 3 months

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Say what you will about the Charlie/Alastor (Charlastor) ship, but my God, the fanfiction "Similing Man" by MuseValentine, which was completed on 3 January 2022, so thoroughly called the following:

Alastor feeling insecure and threatened by Lucifer's power.

Alastor and Lucifer having a Texas stand-off over Charlie.

Alastor being a cocky little shit about it towards Lucifer.

The "oh shit" moment of panic where Alastor realizes that Charlie is the daughter of Lucifer Morningstar, and then Lucifer going "have a seat" in order to intimidate Alastor, is also so hilariously well-written.

Art by SpicyUnicornPowder on Twitter.

Excerpt from Chapters 24-25:

The party was really turning up and he was trying his best to be mindful of the drinks so that not even a drop spilled. Thankfully, Charlie wasn’t too far away, and it looked like her mother had found her once again. Keeping a careful eye on the refreshments in hand, Alastor beelined his way back to her, where she smiled at him once more when he returned to her side.

“Oh, you’re back!” he heard her say, and finally safe and still, he looked up to once more greet Charlie’s lovely mother and engage in a polite conversation with the two ladies.

And that’s when Alastor realised then that there was somebody else with them.

And he froze.

“Alastor, I’d like to introduce you to my father….”

This was impossible.

A cruel twist of fate.

There was no way this could be so.

Alastor wasn’t sure what was going on now, but what he did know was that in the short amount of time since he looked at him, his heart started racing and his tongue went dry, as did a familiar but unsavouring tinge of anxiety hit his guts, causing his nerves to start going off the edge, making him feel like the smile he had on was starting to crack.

Oh, how he must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

No. He probably looked more like the night they’d first met when all bloodied and crazed from the high of two kills on that corner in Lafayette.

“…Lucifer Magne.”

Standing before him, short and blonde and dressed from head-to-toe in white in a showman-like fashion, was the Big Apple.

“Have we met before?”

Unfortunately for Alastor, it had to be thrown right at his face.

“No, I don’t believe we have.”

But life was funny like that, wasn’t it?

“Strange,” the man – Lucifer – remarked with a tilt of his head, eyes studying him curiously. “You’re an awful lot familiar. Swear I would have remembered you anywhere.”

The mocking glint in the man’s eyes, watching the way he was bluffing, it all made Alastor’s nerves go on a frenzy while he remained still and stone-faced. The man was bluffing – Alastor was made and he knew it. He knew the stakes that were at hand here for him, considering the circumstances.

“You might have heard of him, Daddy,” Charlie quipped with a smile. “Alastor’s a radio host. A very good one too!”

But under all sorts of circumstances, did it have to be the one where he turned out to be the father of his goddamn neighbour?!

“Oh! I thought you sounded familiar!” Lilith suddenly exclaimed with a clap of her hands. “You’re the one who interviewed our darling for her hotel! Thank you for helping her out with that, by the way!”

While Lilith was somewhat gushing, her husband only quirked an eyebrow in curiosity, although the look in his eyes gave away the indication that it was something he already knew.

“A radio host? My, how interesting,” he said in a tone that seemed marvelled although it was clearly not, turning more questioning as he inquired, “Is there anything else that you do, Mr. Carlon?”

Hearing the question that, without a doubt, held a double meaning behind it, Alastor finally broke out of his stupor and cleared his throat, not realising until then how dry his mouth was.

“Nope, nothing else at all,” he answered the lie as calmly as he could, ignoring the scratchy feeling of the dryness of his mouth. “I’m quite a boring egg outside of work, I’ll say.”

The Big Apple only hummed, which might seem out of being unimpressed if not for the fact that Alastor knew better to realise that’s the bunk and he was truly unconvinced. And why wouldn’t he be? The man had seen for himself what he did outside of work. There was no point lying to him, and it was disconcerting to be standing in front of him feeling so bare despite being decked out in his best suit.

Looking away from the eyes of the Big Apple, he turned to Charlie and handed her drink, taking a sip of his gin-and-tonic to quench the cottony feeling of his tongue, although the burn from the alcohol made him wince slightly.

Over her drink, Charlie eyed him in concern. “Alastor? Are you alright?”

Hearing her concern made his grin widened instantly as if it was reflex. “Oh, yes!” he lied through his teeth, “Just that this here’s some real strong hooch.”

A laugh was forced out of him to cover up that close slip-up of his demeanour, but one quick look at her and suddenly he found it difficult to look at Charlie in the eyes, throwing him off immensely. How the tables have turned considering usually he was the one making her look away. Unnerved once more, Alastor moved his gaze away from her, and this definitely did not escape her notice.

But then Lilith leaned in to look at him with worry. “Oh, goodness. Are you feeling alright? You seem a little flushed.”

Alastor was about to give a quick response of assurance if it wasn’t for the look on Lucifer’s face that cut him short. The blond man was eyeing him carefully, watching his expressions and his movements, the corner of lips tilted up in a smirk as if he was waiting for a slip-up from him.

“Why yes, you do seem quite flushed, my friend. I wouldn’t think a simple gin-and-tonic would have such a bite on you.”

If Alastor hadn’t known any better, he would have thought that he was just poking fun at what seemed like his incapability to hold down his liquor. But he did know better, enough to quickly catch on to the last bit of the sentence that sent his nerves on end for the umpteenth time.

Against the sinking feeling of his gut, he forced himself to stretch his grin further as he waved a hand in dimissory. “No, I’m fine,” he exclaimed a tad bit louder than he would like. “And this sure is a hooker! Been a while since I’ve had a good drink!”

The liquor did taste good, probably the most top-notch quality that bootlegged could offer. But the taste was soured by this moment, how it was all a farce on Alastor’s part, as much as it may have been for Lucifer, the both of them eyeing each other intently.

And this definitely was noticed by Charlie, who watched them quietly, sensing the building of tension in the air that came from the both of them.

But that tension was broken immediately by Lilith, who seemed to not have noticed the exchange as she was busy looking elsewhere. “Darling, I see that Stolas has just arrived. Goodness, he seemed to have brought that little toy of his instead of his wife! How scandalous.”

For that moment, Lucifer moved his attention away from Alastor, smiling kindly to his frau. “Now, my love, we shouldn’t stick our noses into his business. Let him have his fun. Shall we say our ‘hello’?”

Seeing that this was the end of their little meeting, he moved to his daughter, giving her a kiss on the cheek as he patted her head affectionately, and Charlie preened at this loving fatherly affection. A sight that would have made Alastor glad to see her so happy if it wasn’t for the fact that it was almost unbearable to look at the both of them together now.

And then a hand came to his shoulder in a friendly pat, immediately irking him from being touched but unable to do anything about it. From the corner of his eye, the Big Apple was looking at him with his lips pulled back into that familiar chilling grin, hidden from his wife’s and daughter’s view and given specially to him.

“Relax, my friend,” Lucifer said cheerily, an undertone clearly noted, “Enjoy the party, yes?”

Alastor could only watch as he linked his arm to Lilith’s and walked away. Despite the noise and activity that was going on around him, he felt like he had hit a standstill in time, his mind racing down a trail of spiralling thoughts, unsure of what to think or feel at this moment, amazed yet disturbed that he didn’t know.

”Alastor?”

Charlie’s voice calling his name in concern broke him out of the almost train wreck of his mind as he turned to look at her with unreadable eyes that did not give way to the turmoil inside him.

“I hope you don’t mind Daddy…” she said reassuringly, looking quite fretful. “He’s a little intimidating, is all.”

A ‘little’ was clearly such an extreme understatement.

[...]

“Have a seat, Mr. Carlon,” Lucifer gestured to the seat opposite his and his desk, and Alastor accepted the invitation willingly.

An intricate silver cigarette casing was taken out from his jacket’s inner pocket, popped open and held out to Alastor, who took one with a nod of thanks. A stick to his own lips and Lucifer took a lighter to graciously alight both their cigarettes.

Alastor took a second to himself to enjoy a much-needed puff as Lucifer circled around the desk back to his armchair. “Are you feeling better?” he asked politely, making himself comfy in his seat.

Exhaling another puff that seemed like a relief to his lungs, Alastor replied, “What gave you the implication that I wasn’t?”

“The look on your mug when you saw mine.”

And just like that, it seemed the smoke did no use to ease him any longer, watching as Lucifer’s face split into a wide grin, laughing softly with a shake of his head. And yet, this was not all that shocking to him, taking a silent breath to himself as he willed his tense body to move, leaning forward to flick the ashes of his cigarette on a nearby ashtray.

“So, we’re dropping the pretence now, I assume?” Alastor questioned blankly, putting the cigarette back to his lips.

“You’re not really someone easy to forget, Mr. Carlon,” Lucifer noted casually with the flicker of his own cigarette ash onto the ashtray. “Or should I just call you ‘Alastor’, now that we’re very familiar with each other?”

“Call me anything you want. Either one’s my name anyway.”

Lucifer only hummed in agreement, and quickly after, a silence ensued. Both men did not talk, just sitting across each other, focus on only their own gaspers within the silence of the study. But while Lucifer was reclining on his chair looking elsewhere, Alastor’s eyes were fixed on him – watching, waiting, anticipating, even though he had no clue what to expect at all.

And that bothered him to no end.

“Come now, no need to be so tense,” Lucifer suddenly broke the silence in a reassured tone. “Did you enjoy the cake, Alastor?”

A strange turn of a conversation, but one Alastor kept up with as she politely shook his head. “Didn’t take a slice, sorry. I’m not a fan of sweets.”

Lucifer looked almost disappointed to hear that. “Oh? What a shame. It’s a lovely cake. Pineapple upside-down. Very fashionable. My wife picked it out.”

Taking a drag before exhaling smoke in a puff, he continued almost mellow-like. “Ah, my Lilith. Such a catch, isn’t she? How I do love her so dearly.”

Alastor only nodded along, keeping a polite smile on his face. Any egg would know better than to show much enthusiasm when a man was talking about his wife, so he kept the niceties to a minimum in this strange atmosphere, still simply watching and waiting.

“Do you know who else I love dearly, Alastor?”

And just like that, Alastor immediately felt his smile dropping just the slightest.

“My daughter.”

Lucifer took a last drag, smoothly blowing smoke out in a smooth stream before butting it out on the ashtray, and that’s when his eyes turned to look at him, narrowed into dangerous slits that seemed reminiscent of a snake ready to pounce.

“Which is why I want to know how exactly did she manage to wind up with you.”

If looks could kill, then Lucifer was intent to do so, withdrawing from under his desk a revolver.

The silence in the room could have been quiet enough to hear the way Alastor’s heart dropped right to the floor as he stared at the bean-shooter aimed right at his head.

Even after he felt the last bits of his cigarette turning to ash and falling to the floor, he was too frozen to even move to discard it on the ashtray. In his standstill, his eyes remained on Lucifer, whose glare only seemed more menacing against his grin.

“Well?”

“We’re neighbours.”

It was the truth, so what else could he have said other than that? But judging from the way his eyes widened in slight surprise, the answer clearly wasn’t what Lucifer was expecting. Then again, maybe it’s how he answered so blankly that threw him off. Alastor couldn’t be too sure at which.

“Apologies if it isn’t as exciting as you might think I had more dire intentions,” he apologised for no reason in particular, “but it is as simple as that.”

The revolver unwavering, Lucifer rested his head on his free hand, looking thoughtful. “That’s not really much of an answer.”

“She’s the one who invited me.”

“And there she was, looking so shy and bashful when she wanted me to meet you,” Lucifer said with a hard edge to his voice, as if the words that left his mouth left a disgusting taste on his tongue at the thought of it. “So, is this some sort of sick plan of yours, then?”

Without a doubt, Alastor was taken aback by the blatant accusation that was directed at him.

“To be completely fair, I had no idea that she was your daughter,” he explained. “I think you yourself could understand that from our very inopportune meeting earlier on.”

Lucifer laughed as if the memory of that meeting was humorous to him, and Alastor couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit peeved that he seemed to be laughing at him. He didn’t appreciate really being taken for a joke, even with a revolver pointed at right between his eyes.

“Well, now you do, so what then?”

“What makes you think I’d want to do anything to Charlie?” he countered back, almost challengingly as though to make a point for himself.

Lucifer may have definitely seen the agitation on his face, looking more bemused as he leaned forward, the revolver inching closer to Alastor’s head, but the radio host he remained calm, not even flinching in the slightest as he continued to observe.

“No need to play coy with me, friend. I’ve seen the stunt you’re able to pull. The way your eyes dilate with the thrill of the kill. Almost seems like you think of it as some fun game!”

Alastor couldn’t help but huff in amusement, his face not denying the truth in the man’s presumptions, which only prompted him to continue with, “So, is that what you’re intending to play with Charlie?”

The room fell into a hushed silence again, as Lucifer waited for his answer and Alastor staring blankly at him.

One would not have felt the spark of irritation that was growing within the man in the red suit. The way Lucifer prompted curiously, pressing him to spill, it admittedly agitated Alastor. He didn’t like having to be given the third this way, especially with the revolver pointed right at his face, as though mocking him into submission.

An inkling in him saw this as a sort of cowardice, that he’d have to whip out a heat just to have some show of power to intimidate him in the slightest. How absolutely obnoxious, he’ll say!

And so, vain and cocky in true fashion, Alastor couldn’t help but bite back even in the slightest, confident and without resistance, doing so with a sharp grin.

“If I wanted her dead, she would’ve been long gone before you even met me.”

Now, that definitely seemed like the wrong thing to say.

Alastor watched as the look on Lucifer’s face shifted, turning darker as his eyes narrowed, his grin starting to become a tad bit more tighter, clearly having a chord struck in him, the murderous intent burning more as the seconds passed by quickly.

Well, quite understandable really, considering he just up and dared indirectly said he wanted to have the curse on Charlie.

Yet, the words that followed the expression had no match at all.

“You know, Alastor, you remind me of a deer.”

His darkening aura started to lighten up as he regained his composure, and the sudden change in the conversation only confused Alastor once more. He was probably getting whiplash from the constant turn of events that he had endured for the just the past hour or so, too stupefied to say anything now. No response came, only silence in waiting for the continuation.

“You don’t seem like so, but such a bravado that exists within you. So poised and elegant, like a buck with impressive antlers – an assertion of power and dominance. How you bring yourself so confidently that it seemed like you rule above all, that nothing could bring you down.”

A loud click suddenly resonated in the room, coming from the hammer of the revolver that’s been pushed down and ready for ignition.

And just like that, Alastor was startled, eyes widening as it darted to the tip of the barrel that was still aimed steadfastly in the middle of his forehead, focus only on that instead of the crazed grin on the Big Apple. It probably wasn’t loud, but he could hear the hammering of his heart resonate loudly in his hearing, almost blocking out the next seething words that followed.

“But put a gun right on them and it’s just an act, revealing nothing more than prey.”

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blitzor0de0 · 2 months

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That Saint Peter fic was so cute! Like really, REALLY cute! Maybe you should consider continuing it? With Reader being redeemed and going to heaven? Maybe they die like Sir Pentious when fighting against Adam and spawn in heaven?

this one kinda flopped in my mind, but I hope it's bearable to read !! enjoy!

cw: gn reader, spoilers of episode 8, a little gore to the reader (reader death),,, uhhh lmk if there's something I missed, not proof-read at ALLL!!

word count: 1.8k

part 1 part 3 part 4

Daylight (Saint Peter x Redeemed!Reader)

The final battle was upon you, flurries of executioners surrounded the hotel. But thankfully due to Alastor’s shield, you alongside your fellow residents were able to kill them, one after one after one.

Your heart was racing, adrenaline pumping through your veins, the stench of the angel’s golden ichor singed your nostrils.

But before you knew it, Sir Pentious had sacrificed himself, immediately being blown to smithereens by Adam’s power. You couldn't stand to watch it, your weaknesses bubbling up as you choked back a sob.. The remaining Egg Boiz, would they be okay? Were they okay? You snuck off to see if any reminder of Sir Pentious was still around, allowing a few stray tears to fall.

Unbeknownst to you, alongside everyone else at the battle site, there was one stray angel, grasping onto their last moments of life, as you called out for the Egg Boiz, you found none of them, cracked eggshells seemed to be everywhere you looked. It grew harder to swallow, there had to be at least one..Right?

Dashing through some rubble your search was about to continue but you felt a sharp pain. You froze in place, looking down, breathing stuttering. Piercing your chest was one of the angel's tridents…Straight through the heart.

“What…?” You weakly spoke, turning with whatever energy you had left to face the angel, a dark smile on their face before they succumbed to their injuries.

It didn't take long for you to fall to your knees, gasping for whatever breath you could find. Your mind was in a panic. This couldn't be it. You can't die alone, you never even got to tell Charlie or the others goodbye.

Silent tears streamed down your cheeks. At least you tried your best. Right?

People in life always lied when they said death was painless, your first one sure as Hell wasn't, and neither was this one. You guess it's just their way of dwelling the fear of inevitable death, if only they knew.

A warm heat overtook your senses as brightness enveloped your vision.

What?

Looking around you saw the two Serafim you met a few months back and…Sir Pentious?

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit it worked!

Redemption worked! Charlie's a fucking genius.

Sir Pentious called your name in surprise, “You're here too? Oh no, that must mean.. Did Adam get you too?”

“I.. Pentious..” You were utterly speechless, but so were Sera and Emily. Not one but two sinners redeemed in such a small period of time. Perhaps they really did underestimate Charlie’s ability to fulfil her dream.

After relaying what happened to you after Pentious died, the Serafim discussed how to assimilate to your new lives, Emily in particular helped the two of you get situated.

And within enough time, you were ready to start your second afterlife.

It took you a few days to get yourself situated, too busy dwelling and moping about, lost in thought about your old life. You wondered how long it took everyone down in Hell to notice you had died, if they even felt sad, or even remorse. But you couldn't live in this rut for the rest of your afterlife, you were in Heaven now, everything screamed optimism and positivity. You had to get out there and mingle, make new friends. With a huff, you made yourself presentable before leaving your new home.

Wandering the streets, you heard whispers,

“Has anyone seen Adam recently?”

“No seriously, it's been a little too quiet around here.”

“Forget him, did you see how battered up Lute was? Missing an arm and everything!”

Well that was certainly interesting information, it filled you with a sense of pride. Charlie must've won! Adam had to be dead, but Lute survived? Probably at the hands of Vaggie, you thought.

Before you knew it, you were somewhere familiar, the plaza. Not only that, the ice cream parlour you went to with Saint Peter was just across the street.

Your eyes widened. Wait.. Saint Peter! You hadn't seen him yet since your arrival, a fault on your behalf but still, you had to find him. Would he be pissed that you were here, or happy?

Approaching some friendly looking angels you asked, “Excuse me! Have you seen Saint Peter around?” Voice wavering in anxiousness.

“Hmm? Oh Peter? Oh about this time he should still be at his post but should be taking a break in liiiike five mins or something so if you wanna wait for him by the gates, go ahead!” One angel replied, grinning.

“Thank you so much!” You quickly turned on your heel, heading in the direction of the gates, hearing a small comment from the other angel,

“I woulda thought they would've been looking for a loved one, not Peter of all people. Weird. OW! Hey, I'm just saying!!”

That angel was correct, by the time you made it to the gates -a little out of breath from the speed you were walking- Peter was heading inside for his break.

He was humming to himself but halted as he set eyes upon your new form.

He called out your name, “What.. What are you doing here? If you were visiting you should've come through the gates like you did last time. Besides what's with this new outfit? Looks gorgeous on you, but it looks as though you're cosplaying an angel!....Ooohhh” The realisation of the situation just slapped him in the face. Hard.

Approaching you and holding your face in his hands, he took a real good look at you, causing a blush to spread across your cheeks from the sudden contact.

“Haha.. Hi Peter. Um, guess it happened I got redeemed..? All it took was me dying..again.”

He releases his grasp on your face, eyebrow quirked. You pouted from the loss of contact before meeting his concerned gaze. “But!! It's nothing to worry about! Haha.. Just.. A surprise attack from an exterminator. I guess all that hard work in the hotel came in handy, huh?”

Peter's look of concern refused to falter throughout your explanation, his eyebrows furrowed, almost as if he was lost in thought.

“Y’know, once you left last time there were all sorts of rumours about exterminations and Adam being heavily involved. I refused to believe they were true, why would my fellow angels do such a thing but… I suppose it was true all along. Oh, dear I'm so sorry..” His peppy attitude seemed to completely fade as he spoke, you felt guilty for even unloading it at him, seeing the angel upset made your heart pang.

“But,” He continued, a hand coming up to caress your cheek, “at least that redemption worked, I knew I could believe in you. I'm so proud!” You leaned into his touch, who knows how long it had been since you were treated as if you were a porcelain doll, so fragile, so tender.

“Thank you.. Really. I think your belief in me when we first met really helped.. In fact, the thought of you brought me great guidance in rough times, but that's embarrassing to admit..” You nervously laughed. The stars in Peter's eyes as you spoke didn't go unnoticed.

You had gathered from your initial meeting that Peter wasn't typically the one to be on the receiving end of attention, let alone compliments. After all, you were the first being to have asked his name at the gates.

“Also,” You continued, “It probably looks pretty strange to others just seeing us chat just outside your post, c’mon, let's go get some ice cream like last time, my treat this time okay?” With that you took his hand and started heading back towards the plaza.

Peter stared at where your hands connected, uncharacteristically quiet.

Truth was, ever since your meeting, he had hoped and wished for you to show up at the gate again, for another meeting, being redeemed or even just to see him. Logistically, he knew it was impossible for that last option, you didn't have the ability to open the portals between the two worlds, but a part of him hoped that you would just appear before him one day.

And you finally did, despite his earlier ramblings, Peter felt almost shell shocked, he dreamt of the two of you meeting again, but now it was finally happening, all rational thinking had left his mind.

After you had left the ice cream parlour to go to the Serafim meeting, some angels approached Peter with demeaning questions.

'Why were you being so friendly to a sinner? You know they're down in Hell for a reason.'

'They were probably feeding you lies and sob stories weren't they?'

'Don't let them get to you, Saint Peter, we can't have you falling.'

But falling he did, not in the sense of turning to a life of sin, how could he ever? Without your knowledge, you had the Keeper of the Key wrapped around your finger.

Before he even realised, the two of you had made it to the parlour, feeling a small sense of déjà vu.

The two of you ordered and took your seats, everything seemed to be identical to your first meeting, and your conversations were as fluid as thought, almost as if the two had known one another for your entire existence(s).

What you found was that Saint Peter’s life seemed rather monotonous, yet he still managed to keep such a peppy attitude, guess that's how he became an angel in the first place, a lust for life.

Saint Peter’s break came and went in the blink of an eye. It almost disappointed you when he spoke about heading back to work. Did this moment ever have to end? You wondered to yourself.

Being the kindred spirit you were, you walked him back to the gates, fingertips occasionally brushing one another, but it didn't feel awkward. No, in fact it felt natural, as if there was some sort of invisible string pulling the two of you together.

“Do you have to go?” You spoke softly once the two of you reached the gates.

“You know I have to, besides, it's not like it's our presumed last meeting like last time, right?” He chuckled.

“Yeah.. I suppose so, we could see each other every day if we so wanted.” You smiled, not noticing the gap between the two of you closing.

Tentatively, he pressed his lips to yours. You could feel your heart flutter, it felt like one of those romantic kisses in a fairytale despite only lasting a few seconds. The kiss was filled with the warmth of a thousand suns embracing you in a tender hug.

"Peter.." You gasped out, face growing red as he pulled away.

"That wasn't too much was it? Ahhh sorry!" He panicked, but before he could sputter any more apologies, you pressed your lips to his, a chaste one, just to quiet him down.

“I'll see you once your shift is finished, okay?”

Peter’s mind was spinning, he could only nod pathetically, causing you to giggle. If his pupils could turn to hearts they would.

You turned on your heel, waving a little goodbye to him. “See you soon, Peter!”

“See you…”

Needless to say, Saint Peter’s mind was quite occupied for the rest of the day, causing many frustrations amongst the newcomers.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hh x reader #saint peter #hazbin hotel saint peter x reader #hazbin saint peter #hazbin hotel saint peter #saint peter x reader #saint peter x you #saint peter x yn #hazbin hotel x you #blitzor0de0

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hunn1e-bunn1e · 8 months

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Ego Jinpachi - "Don't Call Me That!"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

In which a certain football enthusiast remembers the first time his faithful assistant found yet another way to get on his nerves. Or; In which Ego Jinpachi first receives his memorable and affectionate nickname from his well-meaning but incredibly annoying assistant.

⚽️•♡•⚽️•♡•⚽️•♡•⚽️•♡•⚽️•♡•⚽️•♡•⚽️•♡•⚽️

"Hey Ego, I've been thinking."

Hummed the h/c-ette assistant as they stood behind him while he looked over the ongoing construction of the Blue Lock facility.

The bespectacled man groaned at the interruption and cast his gaze back at the other; his dull eyes seemingly glowing with annoyance. He didn't bother to say anything, just offering them an expectant look and waiting for them to start talking so he could focus on more important things.

"...That's a first, what are you 'thinking' about that's important enough to bother me?..." .

He finally speaks, his expression twisted into a more bored and unimpressed one rather than the bored one he had sported just moments ago.

A over dramatically loud scoff of offense came from their lips, yet their wide unshakable grin remained. [Name] chuckles at the poorly veiled insult directed at them; typical Ego Jinpachi, always so salty. Then again, they loved people like him, those people were always the most entertaining to hover around. After all, they wouldn't have accepted this job if it were boring, right?

"I was 'thinking' about giving you a nickname! Doesn't that sound great? I'll make sure it's something cute, don't worry."

The h/c assistant chirped merrily, lips curled into an 'innocent' smile as they repeatedly pat the bowl-cut sporting man's shoulder.

Ego's face tenses in disgust, God, he hates people like them, but with their connections, they could make his dreams into a reality. As long as he could hold on to them until the Blue Lock training program was completed by the players he would eventually find. All he needs to do is power through it; he'll just ignore the nickname whenever they use it. That should work.

"—yeah! Eggy! That's perfect! I'll call you Eggy from now on because you're an egg head; your head's shaped like one too!"

[Name] cheered with a wide close-eyed smile, cracking one open to see their boss's expression.

The bespectacled man glowered at them. His head is NOT shaped like a damn egg! This asshole! Where the hell did that come from!? Subconsciously, he reaches a hand up to feel his head and its shape much to the h/c-ette's amusement.

"Shut up! Don't call me that! I should dock your pay, you idiot!"

Ego— no, Eggy growled at them, gritting his teeth in annoyance as he turned back to the table in front of him that held the partially built facility's blueprints.

[Name] just impishly laughed from their position behind him, a satisfied smirk gracing their lips. Truly, they loved nothing more than to piss off their boss.

⚽️•♡•⚽️•♡•⚽️•♡•⚽️•♡•⚽️•♡•⚽️•♡•⚽️•♡•⚽️

🐇.•°��.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

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foern · 3 months

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hii!! how are you doing?? this is my first time so i applogize if i lack of details/u have a hard time understanding this. May i request for Tokyo Revengers (Mitsuya, Draken, Rindou) where they compliment or just appreciates s/o but she just cries when she heard ut? she kinda barely got attention and praises like that so it kind of melts her heart

they can be like normally say "im so grateful for you" "ur so pretty", but s/o just cries as a response HAHDHSJA I wanna know what theyd do or react, if thats okay ofc! i apologize if im dosturbing your time, i hope u have a great day!

~😻

Anon tysm for this request! I had a lot of fun writing it! I haven’t really read the Manga, so I don’t think I know enough about Rindou to write for him. I replaced him with Mikey, I hope that's okay!

Sorry this id kind of short and took forever, ive been super busy (literally moved to another continent). Anyway, hope you like it!

———————————————————————

Mikey

Mikey’s eyes followed you as you busied yourself in the kitchen, grabbing ingredients to prepare breakfast for the two of you—bacon and eggs. Distracted, you cracked an egg into the hot pan, oblivious to Mikey’s intense gaze. The morning sun streamed through the windows, casting a radiant glow on everything it touched, including you. With messy hair from sleep, clad in Mikey’s sweatshirt, and a bare face, you looked absolutely stunning.

“You’re so pretty.” Your gaze swiftly met the blonde-haired boy's; his eyes sparkled, and a warm, admiring smile graced his lips. There was no doubt in the world that he was anything but sincere.

“Don’t be stupid.” You mumble, an obvious blush creeping its way onto your cheeks. Truth be told, you felt completely hideous that day. Your hair was an unbrushed mess, you had no makeup on, and you were still in your pajamas. A wave of insecurity washed over you; a heavy weight settled itself on your chest. As tears welled up in your eyes you turned back to the eggs, unwilling to let Mikey see you cry.

“Hey, hey, hey, why the tears?” Mikey stands up from his chair and steps in front of me. He rests his hand on my waist, rubbing soothing circles into my skin. The words catch in my throat, making it impossible to articulate the emotions flooding over me. Truth be told, I don't even know why I'm crying. His free hand gently lifts my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"You're beautiful," he reassures, his thumb moving from my chin to caress my lip, "Especially when you're making me breakfast."

——————————————————————

Mitsuya

I delicately run my fingers across the luxurious texture of my dress, savoring the sensation of the soft fabric across my skin. My gaze takes in every detail of the meticulously crafted garment—each stitch, every contour, a testament to its thoughtful design. A nervous smile graces my lips as I turn to meet Takashi’s gaze.

“What do you think?” I ask, my voice carrying a mix of anticipation and vulnerability. A faint blush creeps over my face as I catch him admiring my silhouette. His response, a simple yet sincere "You look absolutely stunning," sends a rush of warmth through me.

His bluntness catches me off guard for a moment. I never really grew up receiving compliments, so even now, they have the power to surprise me. A warm weight settles into my chest as an unexpected wave of emotion washes over me. The confident smile I wore earlier fades, replaced by a genuine, slightly flustered one. Rising from his chair, he makes his way towards me.

As he stands before me, placing a hand gently on my hip and the other softly on my cheek, I can't help but marvel at the tenderness in his touch. I hadn't realized a tear was rolling down my face until he wiped it away with his thumb. My heart melts at this action, his eyes never leaving mine. His unwavering, concerned gaze causes my tears to flow more steadily.

“You mean it?” I manage to utter, my voice carrying a mix of disbelief and gratitude. I honestly don’t know why I’m crying, but in this moment, none of that matters. He shakes his head with a reassuring nod. His hand guides me into a comforting hug, the type you never want to leave. “Of course, but I don’t know why you’re crying though. I think it means I should just compliment you more often.”

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev headcanons #tokyo rev x reader #manjiro sano x reader #takashi mitsuya #mitsuya takashi #mitsuya x reader #tokyo revengers fluff

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mostlysignssomeportents · 6 months

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Thankful for class consciousness

On November 27, I'm appearing at the Toronto Metro Reference Library with Facebook whistleblower Frances Haugen.

On November 29, I'm at NYC's Strand Books with my novel The Lost Cause, a solarpunk tale of hope and danger that Rebecca Solnit called "completely delightful."

Before the term "ecology" came along, people didn't know they were on the same side. You care about owls, I care about the ozone layer – what does the destiny of charismatic nocturnal avians have to do with the gaseous composition of the upper atmosphere?

But as James Boyle has written, the term "ecology" welded together a thousand issues into a single movement. When we talk about "looking at our world through a lens," this is what we mean – apply the right analytical lens and a motley assortment of disparate causes becomes a unified, coherent project:

https://scholarship.law.duke.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1013&context=dlj

Unfettered, planet-destroying, worker immiserating corporate power is only possible in the absence of such a lens. Before neoliberalism can destroy our lives, it must first convince us that we are all disconnected. "There is no such thing as society," isn't just an empty slogan: it's a weapon for dismantling the democratically accountable structures that can stand against industrial tyrants.

That's why neoliberalism is so viciously opposed to all kinds of solidarity, why corporate apologists insist that the only elections that matter are the ones where you "vote with your wallet." It's no surprise that the side with the thickest wallets wants to replace ballots with dollars!

Today, at long last, after generations of deadly corporate power-grabs, we are living through an ecology moment where all kind of fights are coalescing into one big fight: the fight to save democracy from oligarchy.

There are many tributaries flowing into this mighty river, but two of the largest are antitrust and labor. Antitrust seeks to ensure that our world is regulated by democratically accountable lawmakers who deliberate in public, rather than shareholder-accountable monopolists who deliberate in smoke-filled rooms. Labor seeks to ensure that contests between profit for the few and prosperity for the many are decided in favor of people, not profit.

This coalition is so powerful that the ruling class has never stopped attacking it. Indeed, the history of US antitrust law can be viewed as a succession of ever-more-insistent laws enacted solely to make it clear to deliberately obtuse judges that competition law is aimed at corporations, not unions:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/14/aiming-at-dollars/#not-men

Rising corporate power and declining worker power is bad for all of us. The failure of successive US administrations to block airline mergers led to sky-high prices and a proliferation of "junk fees" that can double the price of a ticket. The monopoly carriers stand to make $118b this year from these fees:

https://www.fastcompany.com/90981005/airlines-fees-118-billion-dark-patterns

The consolidation of the agricultural sector led to cartels that conspired to rig the prices of our food. These Les Mis LARPers rigged the price of bread!

https://www.cbc.ca/news/business/canada-bread-price-fixing-1.6883783

Remember eggflation? Nearly all the eggs in US grocery stores come from a single company, Cal-Maine, which owns dozens of brands, including "Farmhouse Eggs, Sunups, Sunny Meadow, Egg-Land’s Best and Land O’ Lakes eggs":

https://www.cnn.com/2023/01/13/business/egg-prices-cal-maine-foods/index.html

With all our eggs in one basket, it was easy for a single company to rig the egg market, blaming everything from bird flu to Russian invasion of Ukraine for doubling egg prices while their profits shot up by 65%:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/23/cant-make-an-omelet/#keep-calm-and-crack-on

Antitrust isn't just about monopoly – it's also about oligopoly. The American meat cartel pretends that it's not rigging markets by outsourcing its price-fixing to a "clearinghouse" called Agri Stats:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/04/dont-let-your-meat-loaf/#meaty-beaty-big-and-bouncy

Agri-Stats gets data from all the Big Meat companies, "anonymizes" it, and publishes it back to its subscribers, who use the service to coordinate across-the-board price-hikes that have cost the public billions in price gouging (meanwhile, Big Meat was able to secure $50b in public subsidies).

For forty years, governments have ceded power to "autocrats of trade" who usurped control "over the production, transportation, and sale of the necessaries of life":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/20/we-should-not-endure-a-king/

But that era is coming to an end. In the past year, American regulators have blocked airline mergers and promulgated rules banning junk fees. They've dragged price-fixing clearinghouses into court:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/why-turkey-eggs-and-air-travel-just

They're getting results, too: for the second year in a row, turkey prices are down. Cranberries, too (18%). Same for whipping cream (25%). Pie crusts are down. So are russet potatoes. Airfares are down 13.2%.

The egg cartel just lost a long-running court case over the last egg price-fixing campaign, which gouged Americans from 1990-2008:

https://www.pymnts.com/cpi_posts/kellogg-kraft-secure-victory-in-price-fixing-lawsuit-against-egg-producers

The same fact-pattern that was revealed in that court case is repeated in this year's eggflation scandal:

https://farmaction.us/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/Farm-Action-Letter-to-FTC-Chair-Lina-Khan.pdf

That's terrific ammo for the FTC, and will doubtless benefit the Democrats running against would-be Indiana senator John Rust, whose family owns convicted egg cartel member Rose Acre Farms and whose wife just stepped down as chair of the board.

One underappreciated aspect of the global war on corporate power is that the same corporations commit the same crimes in countries all over the world, which means that whenever any government establishes evidence of those crimes, they are of use to all the other governments. Competition enforcers from the UK, EU, USA, Singapore, South Korea and elsewhere are coordinating to target the Big Tech cartel. Maybe Google and Facebook and Apple are bigger enough to resist any one of those governments – but all of them?

https://cmadataconference.co.uk/

One notable absence from the anti-monopoly coalition is Canada. While other countries merely stopped enforcing their competition laws in the neoliberal era, Canada never had a good competition law to enforce. Canada's official tolerance for monopolies has allowed a handful of companies to seize control over the economy of Canada and the lives of Canadians:

https://www.canadaland.com/shows/commons-monopoly/

These monopolies are largely controlled by powerful families, Canada's de facto aristocracy, whose wealth and power make them above the law and subordinate the country's democratic institutions to billionaires' whims:

https://www.canadaland.com/tag/dynasties/

At long last, Canada has called time on oligarchy. Last week's Fall Economic Statement included an announcement of a muscular new competition law, including new merger guidelines, a new "abuse of dominance" standard, and Right to Repair rules:

https://www.linkedin.com/feed/update/urn:li:activity:7132855021548769282/

The law also includes interoperability mandates for Canada's highly concentrated – and deeply corrupt – banking sector. These measures are strikingly similar to new measures just introduced in the US by the CFPB:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/21/let-my-dollars-go/#personal-financial-data-rights

The arrival of Canada's first fit-for-purpose competition rule coincides with all kinds of solidaristic movements in Canada that are fighting corporate power from the bottom up. Even Ontario, led by one of the most corrupt premiers in provincial history, can't break its teachers' union:

https://globalnews.ca/news/10105600/ontario-elementary-teachers-reach-contract-deal/

It's not just workers who benefit from solidarity: Tenants' unions have formed across the province in response to corporate takeovers of scarce rental stock. These finance-sector landlords have armies of lawyers who've figured out how to bypass rent-control rules and evict tenants who balk. Rather than rolling over, tenants' unions are organizing waves of rent-strikes:

https://macleans.ca/longforms/rent-strikes-canada/

As with Big Tech, the illegal tactics of the rental sector aren't confined to a single nation. In America, Wall Street landlords have dramatically increased the price of housing and kicked off an eviction epidemic the likes of which the country has never seen:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/16/mortgages-are-rent-control/#housing-is-a-human-right-not-an-asset

And as with Big Meat, landlords use arm's-length clearing houses to rig rental markets, coordinating across-the-board rent hikes:

https://www.propublica.org/article/yieldstar-rent-increase-realpage-rent

In other words: to fix the housing market, tenants all over the world need to learn the tactics of labor unions. Housing regulators have to learn from agricultural regulators. Americans tenants have to learn from Canadians. These aren't 1,000 different fights – they're one big fight, and the coalition for dismantling corporate power is vast and powerful.

The most powerful weapons our bosses have is convincing us that we are weak and they are strong – so strong that we shouldn't even try to fight them. But solidarity is absurdly powerful, which is why they go to such great lengths to discredit it. In Sweden, the solidarity strikes against Tesla – who refuses to recognize its maintenance workers' union – have spread to nine unions.

Tesla can't get its cars offloaded at the ports. It can't get its showrooms cleaned. No one will deliver its mail. No one will fix its chargers. The strike is spreading to Germany, and workers at its giant Berlin factory is set to walk out:

https://www.metafilter.com/201514/Swedish-Tesla-workers-go-on-strike

There's something delicious about how palpably frustrated Elon Musk is by all this, as he realizes that neither his billions nor his bully pulpit are a match for workers in solidarity:

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2023-11-23/elon-musk-calls-swedish-tesla-strikes-insane-as-impact-spreads

It's a reminder of just how fragile and weak billionaires are, when we stop believing in them and deferring to them. Rebecca Solnit's latest Guardian column adds up the ways that allowing billionaires to run the show puts us all in danger:

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2023/nov/20/billionaires-great-carbon-divide-planet-climate-crisis

They are the unelected "autocrats of trade" who control "the production, transportation, and sale of the necessaries of life." They are the force that this new ecology movement is coalescing to fight: across borders, across sectors, across identities. No matter whether you are a worker, a tenant, a voter, a shopper or a citizen, your enemy is the billionaire class.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/24/coalescence/#solidarnosc

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c-e-d-dreamer · 7 months

Text

When We Howl, the Moon Will Cower: Prologue

A/N: I know it's technically November first, which means Spooky Season is officially over, but what do you say we keep the spooky vibes going just a little bit longer? And what better way to do that than with witchy Nesta! And future werewolf Cassian ;) I am very excited for what I have planned for this fic, and I hope everyone enjoys! And if you don't, well, this is a love letter fic to @dustjacketmusings only, so I don't care. Also, gold star to everyone who can pick up on the 3 easter eggs in this prologue.

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Next Part

Darkness from the west trembles in the light As the sun rises on a new empire Shatter, crack, and take back what is right The golden bonds escape the pyre Mother blessed unity births power unforeseen The gods will bow before the strength of three

~ * * * ~

“Again.”

Nesta swallows down her wince. Swallows down the tingling pain in her cramped fingers. Swallows down the throb that's taken up home in her head, the way it makes everything fuzzy around the edges. Instead, she takes a deep breath, reaching for that well of power within herself. Sometimes, she likes to imagine it as a cat, napping in the sun when it's resting. She imagines that now, imagines stroking her hand along its fur until it begins to purr to life.

“Nesta.”

The cold, clipped tone has Nesta flinching instinctively. “I'm trying, Mama.”

“Clearly, you are not trying hard enough,” her mother scoffs, and even without looking at her, Nesta can imagine the disappointed scowl that's sure to be pinching Elinor Archeron's face. “You are an Archeron witch, or did you forget?”

“My magic is drained,” Nesta defends, squeezing her eyes tighter and trying to focus. “I just need another moment.”

“Drained?” Elinor's laugh is nothing short of mocking. “Your ancestors could do this in their sleep. You are a disgrace to our family name. I don't even know why I bother.”

“I can do it.”

Nesta knows her snapped words mean nothing if she can't prove it. She reaches for that beast inside her again and grabs fur until it roars. Until she can feel her magic slink between her fingers, wreathing its way up her arms. It sings in her veins and floods her lungs so every breath is pure power, writhing like a dancer in time to her pounding heart.

A hard strike across the face has Nesta crashing back down, a pained gasp tumbling past her lips. She cradles her cheek with her hand, blinking up at her mother, but Elinor's rage is potent. A fire practically blazes in those blue eyes, its path of wrath and destruction pinned right on Nesta.

“You stupid girl. Are you trying to burn the whole house down?”

“I'm sorry, Mama,” Nesta whispers before she swallows hard and stands up straight again, holding her chin high. Never cower, never let her see the cracks. “I'll be better next time.”

“You better be,” Elinor sneers, brushing her hands down the skirts of her dress and turning toward the door. It's a clear dismissal, an end to today's lessons. “Do not disappoint me, Nesta.”

Nesta can't help but flinch at the too loud sound of the door closing behind her mother. She presses a hand to her mouth to quiet the shuddering breath she lets out, blinking hard around the stinging heat pressing behind her eyes. When she presses her fingers to the skin of her cheek, she can still feel the lingering soreness from being slapped, but she's hopeful there won't be any bruising.

There certainly won't be a scar.

As if of their own accord, Nesta's fingers absentmindedly slide along the raised skin on her thumb. At least her mother's lessons aren't like the ones with her grandmother.

A knock at the door has Nesta almost jumping out of her skin in surprise, and for a fearful moment, she half wonders if her thoughts somehow summoned her grandmother back from beyond the grave. But then she hears her sister's voice, tentatively calling her name through the wood.

“Go away, Elain,” Nesta calls back, rolling her eyes even though her sister can't see her.

“But I need your help,” Elain protests, a hint of the whine Nesta knows always works on their father bleeding into her tone.

With a huff, Nesta stalks over to the door, yanking it open and not even bothering to hide her annoyance as she demands, “what?”

Elain chews on her lip, fiddling with the skirts of her dress, before admitting, “I lost Feyre.”

“What do you mean you lost Feyre?”

“Well, we were playing hide and seek, and she must have chosen a really good hiding place because I can't find her.”

“For Mother's sake,” Nesta sighs, already stepping out into the hall. “You know, next year, you'll be of a witch's age, and you won't have any more time for baby games.”

“Just because you came of age last year doesn’t mean you have to be so mean.”

Nesta’s steps stutter at Elain’s words, and she turns back around to find her sister still standing by the study door, her arms crossed and her expression less than impressed. Nesta knows that she’s right, but Nesta would also give anything to keep Elain and Feyre from turning thirteen. To let them play hide and seek and run through the gardens forever. To protect them from their mother’s clutches and her cruel lessons.

But Nesta has yet to find a spell for that.

So Nesta lets out a soft breath and offers Elain a small smile of apology. “Where did you already look for Feyre?”

Elain huffs quietly, practically a lamenting sigh, as she continues down the hall and to Nesta’s side. “I checked all the normal places. Under all the beds. Under Papa’s desk. All the closets.”

“Did you check the cellar?” Nesta asks, leading the way toward the main staircase.

“We’re not allowed down there, remember?”

“Exactly. And this is Feyre we’re talking about.”

Elain hums, and that’s answer enough for Nesta. With a shake of her head, she hurries down the main staircase and down the hall that leads to the cellar door. The dark wood looks unassuming, exactly as their mother intended it, but Nesta can feel the magic imbued within it. It seems to hum and whisper to her, seems to jump off the wood and skate across her skin and up her arms. If Nesta squints, she can even make out the protection runes carved beneath the wood stain.

Checking both ways down the hallway to make sure no one is watching, Nesta reaches forward, her fingers curling around the handle of the door. She closes her eyes and sucks in a deep breath, feeling the magic pulsing through her hand before the handle twists and the door opens. She grabs Elain’s wrist and tugs her inside, the door closing behind them with a quiet thud.

Neither of them say anything as they follow the winding staircase down, Elain keeping her hand firmly in Nesta’s own. Nesta can’t say she minds the contact. The cellar has always made her feel uneasy. It’s the way she always feels like she’s being watched when she’s down here. The way whispers seem to creep along the floor and the walls like fog, Nesta never quite able to hear the words being spoken, but always having the undeniable feeling that they’re saying her name. It’s the way the air is always thick and still, as if whatever ominous presence calls this dark place home is holding its breath, even as it smiles from the shadows with too sharp teeth.

Nesta lets out a quiet breath when they reach the bottom of the stairs, giving Elain’s hand a gentle, comforting squeeze. Or perhaps it’s to help ground herself. She turns her attention to the left, unsurprised to find the door at the very end is cracked open, watery light spilling out around the edges like some sort of eerie beacon.

For a moment, Nesta hesitates, swallowing hard around the churning in her gut, the lump threatening to press into her throat. But then she swears she feels it, a presence beside her and Elain. But it doesn’t bring with it any of the unease the shadows of the cellar do. Instead, it feels almost warm, comforting. Like a mother’s hand curling around her shoulders, it urges her forward, guiding her through the door and into the room.

“You found me!” Feyre exclaims, jumping up from her spot crouched beside the door with a wide smile.

“Feyre, you know you’re not supposed to be in here,” Nesta seethes, already grabbing her youngest sister’s arm to tug her out of the room and back upstairs.

But Feyre yanks herself free, crossing her arms across her chest. “Just because you’re the oldest, that doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do.”

Feyre sticks her tongue out, belying her eleven years of age, and Nesta merely rolls her eyes. “I’m serious. Mama would be furious if she knew.”

“We get it, Nesta. You’re Mama’s favorite, always the perfect child. That doesn’t mean the rest of us want to be.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, what you don’t know.”

“Um…” Elain speaks up quietly, breaking up her sisters’ glaring contest. “Is it supposed to be doing that?”

Nesta snaps her attention to the center of the room, to the magical object she’s always refused to look directly at for too long. The Cauldron stands on a slightly raised wooden platform, the wide circumference large enough that Nesta is sure it could swallow all three of her and her sisters whole if it wanted to. The black iron it’s made from is dark as night, dark enough to drown any light, any life, even as the legends sing of life being poured from it.

And for the first time since Nesta ever laid eyes on it, the Cauldron truly seems alive.

The liquid inside bubbles and pops, dark smoke rising and curling from its depths. The smoke spills over the edge of the platform, slithering down the platform and across the floor to them. Nesta swears it looks almost star flecked as it creeps closer to Feyre, threatening to curl around her ankles. Feyre jumps away from the smoke, hiding behind Nesta and curling her hands tight enough around Nesta’s arm that her nails bite into the skin.

“What’s it doing?” Feyre demands, her voice barely above a hushed whisper.

“I don’t know,” Nesta mutters, her own voice quiet, as if the Cauldron might hear them if they’re too loud. “But we need to get out of here.”

Nesta turns on her heel to do just that, keeping Feyre with her, but her feet stutter before she can even take a single step. Elain’s eyes have completely glazed over, the honey brown color of them foggy, and her gaze is focused solely on the Cauldron. Her expression is entirely blank in a way that has alarm bells ringing in Nesta’s head, has every hair on the back of her neck standing on end.

“Elain…” Nesta starts cautiously, watching with wide eyes as her sister starts to walk closer to the Cauldron. “Elain, what are you doing?”

Whether her sister can hear her or not, Nesta isn’t sure. Elain continues walking until she’s stood right at the foot of the wooden platform, smoke dancing and curling up her calves like flames, sparking against her skin like daylight. Like a puppet on strings, Elain’s hand slowly raises from her side, her outstretched hand reaching forward.

“Elain, don’t!”

Nesta’s free hand curls around Elain’s wrists at the same moment Elain’s fingers curl around the lip of the Cauldron. Nesta’s chest heaves, her entire body tensing up in anticipation, but nothing happens. There’s no explosion, no blinding light. The ground doesn’t shake and rumble beneath their feet. There’s just that choking stillness.

“Darkness from the west trembles in the light,” Elain speaks, her voice somehow sounding far away, like it’s not her own.

“Elain?” Nesta whispers, giving her sister’s wrist a tentative squeeze.

“As the sun rises on a new empire—”

“What’s wrong with her? Why is she saying that?” Feyre asks over Elain’s still speaking voice.

“I don’t know,” Nesta hisses, turning over her shoulder to glare at Feyre.

“The golden bonds escape the pyre—”

“Elain,” Nesta tries again, tugging on her sister’s hand more forcefully. “Stop that.”

“—unity births power unforeseen.” Nesta drops Feyre's hand and steps forward, physically prying Elain’s fingers off the Cauldron. “The gods will bow before the strength of three.”

With a soft gasp, Elain stumbles back, Nesta curling an arm around her waist to try and hold her steady. Elain blinks a few times, and it’s stark relief that floods through Nesta as she takes in the bright brown color, pink flooding back into her sister's cheeks and face.

“What happened?” Elain asks, her words slightly slurred together.

Before Nesta can answer her, Elain’s eyes flutter closed, Nesta practically crashing to the cold, hard stone floor in her effort to catch Elain’s deadweight. She wraps her arms tightly around Elain, tugging so her sister’s head is cradled in her lap. Her heart starts to pound when she lifts her hand to Elain’s cheek, the skin cool and clammy beneath her touch. She snaps her attention back to Feyre, her youngest sister standing with wide eyes and her arms curled around herself.

“We need to get Mama.”

~ * * * ~

“Think harder, Nesta.”

It takes everything within Nesta to swallow down her sigh. She already knows what making such a sound will earn her, but it’s easier said than done. They’ve been at this for what feels like hours now.

“I told you, Mama. I can’t be sure,” Nesta explains, keeping her eyes downcast and away from where her mother is pacing across the room. “I was more focused on making sure Elain was okay.”

“Honestly, Nesta,” Elinor sighs, and though Nesta keeps her attention firmly on her own lap, she can perfectly imagine her mother’s expression. “Your sister gives a prophecy in the Cauldron’s presence, and you couldn’t bother to remember it?”

“There was…” Nesta squeezes her eyes shut, trying to focus. “There was something about unity. Blessed unity and it creating unforseen power… something about an empire, I think?”

“An empire? What about an empire?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Dammit, Nesta. Focus.”

The slap sings hard across Nesta’s cheek, the metallic taste of blood spilling in her mouth from how hard she bites her tongue to keep in her cry of surprise. Her fingers curl into fists in her lap, nails biting into her skin to ground herself, and Nesta takes a shaking breath in and out of her nose. She can tell that her mother’s patience is wearing beyond thin, that soon her mother will tire of this back and forth. And she knows that if she doesn’t do this, Elinor will turn her methods on Feyre next.

So taking another, more calming breath, Nesta imagines herself back in that room, in that cellar with her sisters. She imagines the Cauldron before her, bubbling and smoking. She imagines Elain’s face and the faraway look in her eyes. She imagines seeing Elain’s mouth move, the words spilling forth.

“The gods will bow before the strength of three,” Nesta recites back, just as Elain had.

She waits for her mother's clipping words, perhaps another slap over only remembering the single, final line, but there's only silence echoing in the room. Tentatively, Nesta raises her head, intent on meeting her mother's steely blue gaze head on, but Elinor's focus is far away, her attention snagged out the window. Nesta turns her own attention outside, curiosity piqued, but whatever her mother is staring at, whatever she sees laid out before her, it's only in her mind. Finally, she turns back to Nesta, the smallest hint of a smirk tugging at her painted lips.

“Perhaps you won't be a disappointment to the Archeron name after all.”

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acosf #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #When We Howl #my fic

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quitealotofsodapop · 1 month

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So can we get more context on this situation for the Tang River Water au?

referencing this au.

Literally one of the first things Peng does when they get released from the Scroll is to try and kill who he thinks is Tripitaka [Tang]. Peng presses on Tang so forcefully that the stone around him cracks. Tang doesn't be looking so great afterwards either.

Only reason Tang isn't passing through Diyu after this scene is Azure mentioning that he's just the monk's reincarnation (which 100% must have tickles Peng pink since they of all people know how embarassing it must have been for Buddha's teacher's pet to fail to break the cycle of rebirth). I have seen aus where Tang does die in this scene and his Golden Cicada powers have to come in clutch to keep his soul there. (link to a really cool animatic)

But in the "Mother Child River Tang" au?

Peng immediately takes one look at this *obviously* pregnant monk and just starts screeching with laughter! You know that sound peacock's make thats like a strangled laugh? That is all Peng is doing for their first five minutes out of the Scroll.

Yellow Tusk has already given Azure a warm welcoming hug and gotten caught up on the most recent millenium by the time Peng manages to catch their breath.

Peng: "The- [peacock cry]! The monk is- [more peacock cries!] ahhhhh! I can't even be mad at him right now! It's so funny!" Tang, still a little hurt, now offended: "Rude. A pregnant man isn't that funny." Peng: "But a pregnant monk is! Looks like that vow of chasity didn't stick eh?" Azure: "Peng, they are not the monk." Peng, laughter stops: "...then who the Diyu are they??" Tang, emboldened: "I'm Tang! Reincarnation and/or decendant of the Great Monk! And this is my husband Pigsy, our son MK, and our friends." Peng, tears in eyes: "HE MARRIED THE-!" [peacock cry!] Azure & Yellow tusk: *both sigh tiredly*

On a more serious note, since Sandy was forced to push Tang out of the way of Yellow tusk's attack + Peng pinned him to the ground, the Monkey King's part of the Scroll is damaged, MK is having a mental breakdown, and if we combine this with "Slow Boiled Stone Egg" au - the Brotherhood has taken Yuebei Xing hostage? Tang is in a lot of physical and emotional distress rn.

Like... enough to trigger early labor-level of distress.

Bodhisattva Guanyin is summoned immediately to Subodhi's temple before any actual training can occur. She's (and many other buddhist deities) so preoccupied in making sure that the Golden Cicada and his baby survives that they are distracted from the threat sieging Heaven at that moment...

Pigsy has to be held back from trying to tear the Brotherhood apart himself. Zhu Bajie wasn't *just* "some demon". He used to be one of the most powerful Marshals in Heaven - commanding 80 thousand heavenly sailors/soldiers. In one mythology, Marshal Tianpeng was even a son of Doumu - the mother of constellations (making him the Queen Mother of the West's brother oddly enough).

Whos to say that Pigsy doesn't accidentally tap into the powers of that life? The whole naval power of Heaven is suddenly at Subodhi's school, waiting for the orders to turn the Brotherhood into a fine red smear on the wall. It's only Tang's own pleading that Pigsy doesn't act rashly.

The chaos does lead to an odd conciencidence occuring though...

Nezha, post-s4: "I do wonder... has the Jade Emperor broken the cycle of rebirth? If not, then that means the location of his soul could prove dangerous if left unchecked. I must contact the Underworld." *starts mediatating* MK: "What do you mean?" Nezha: "The Emperor was eons old. That amount of acculmilated divine power needs a host that can handle it. Like-" Tang & Pigsy's baby: *snorts/burps loudly* Nezha, realising: "-the child of the Golden Cicada and of the Doumu herself..." Yama, King of Hell, astral projecting: "You guys are not gonna believe where the Emperor ended up! He's in a half-demon piglet somewhere- oh there she is!" Tang & Pigsy: ( 0_0) (0_0 ) "uh oh"

#mother child river tang au #slow boiled stone egg au #lmk aus #pregnancy tw #lmk tang #lmk pigsy #lmk peng #lmk azure lion #freenoddles #freenoodlesshipping #lmk #lego monkie kid

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rainhadaenerys · 1 year

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Madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin

I wrote about this before, and I made an edit about this as well, but I wanted to write a separate post just for this topic because I think people really don't understand what "madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin" means. I see many people taking at face value that half of the Targaryens are mad and that Targaryens are ticking time bombs, and I also see other people criticizing GRRM for including the madness theme for the Targaryens, criticizing him for supposedly adding genetic determinism and stigmatizing mental illness. But I think both are missing the point.

The madness vs greatness theme is not about half of the Targaryens being mad or great (this isn't even accurate with what we're shown in the books, as very few Targaryens were mad). The madness and greatness theme wasn't introduced just to add some cool mythos to House Targaryen. The madness vs greatness theme is a commentary on what it takes to be great: madness. And it's a theme pertaining to Dany specifically.

The theme was introduced explicitly for the first time in a Dany's chapter, as something that is said TO Dany, right after she liberated three slave cities:

"I am no maester to quote history at you, Your Grace. Swords have been my life, not books. But every child knows that the Targaryens have always danced too close to madness. Your father was not the first. King Jaehaerys once told me that madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, he said, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land." - Daenerys VI ASOS

In fact, this is the ONLY time in all the books in which the Targaryens are stated to be mad or great (sure, there are times where the books talk about the Mad King, or say that this or that Targaryen was mad, but this is the only moment in the books where the coin toss and the theme of madness vs greatness are explicitly mentioned). It's not something that is brought up several times or given much emphasis, it's something that appears only this time, and is only said to Dany.

And why is this concept introduced only to Dany, and at this moment? Because it's meant to be a thematic reflection on what she just did. Because what she did was MAD. To think that you have the power to defy an institution as ingrained as slavery, to think you have the power to make such a huge change in the world, and to actually attempt it, it's something that most people would consider madness. Because it's seen as an impossible thing, it's seen as crazy, it's seen as suicide. But that's exactly what greatness is: to do things that most people would consider madness.

And this theme doesn't even start in ASOS, it starts back in AGOT. The only reason Dany is even in a position to attempt to end slavery, is because she did a mad thing in the first place: walk into a pyre to hatch her dragons. And the narrative points this out several times:

"No. He cannot have my son." She would not weep, she decided. She would not shiver with fear. The Usurper has woken the dragon now, she told herself … and her eyes went to the dragon's eggs resting in their nest of dark velvet. The shifting lamplight limned their stony scales, and shimmering motes of jade and scarlet and gold swam in the air around them, like courtiers around a king.

Was it madness that seized her then, born of fear? Or some strange wisdom buried in her blood? Dany could not have said. She heard her own voice saying, "Ser Jorah, light the brazier."

[...]

When the coals were afire, Dany sent Ser Jorah from her. She had to be alone to do what she must do. This is madness, she told herself as she lifted the black-and-scarlet egg from the velvet. It will only crack and burn, and it's so beautiful, Ser Jorah will call me a fool if I ruin it, and yet, and yet …

Cradling the egg with both hands, she carried it to the fire and pushed it down amongst the burning coals. The black scales seemed to glow as they drank the heat. Flames licked against the stone with small red tongues. Dany placed the other two eggs beside the black one in the fire. As she stepped back from the brazier, the breath trembled in her throat. - Daenerys VI AGOT

She could feel the eyes of the khalasar on her as she entered her tent. The Dothraki were muttering and giving her strange sideways looks from the corners of their dark almond eyes. They thought her mad, Dany realized. Perhaps she was. She would know soon enough. If I look back I am lost. - Daenerys X AGOT

As she climbed down off the pyre, she noticed Mirri Maz Duur watching her. "You are mad," the godswife said hoarsely.

"Is it so far from madness to wisdom?" Dany asked. - Daenerys V AGOT

When Dany says she is determined to conquer Westeros, even though it seems impossible for someone who has nothing, she is called mad:

"I mean to sail to Westeros, and drink the wine of vengeance from the skull of the Usurper." She scratched Rhaegal under one eye, and his jade-green wings unfolded for a moment, stirring the still air in the palanquin.

A single perfect tear ran down the cheek of Xaro Xhoan Daxos. "Will nothing turn you from this madness?"

"Nothing," she said, wishing she was as certain as she sounded. - Daenerys III ACOK

Later, when Dany ends slavery, people call her mad for it, for daring to challenge an institution that is seen as the right order or things:

"I have a gift for you as well." She slammed the chest shut. "Three days. On the morning of the third day, send out your slaves. All of them. Every man, woman, and child shall be given a weapon, and as much food, clothing, coin, and goods as he or she can carry. These they shall be allowed to choose freely from among their masters' possessions, as payment for their years of servitude. When all the slaves have departed, you will open your gates and allow my Unsullied to enter and search your city, to make certain none remain in bondage. If you do this, Yunkai will not be burned or plundered, and none of your people shall be molested. The Wise Masters will have the peace they desire, and will have proved themselves wise indeed. What say you?"

"I say, you are mad." - Daenerys IV ASOS

Xaro caught it in the air and took a bite. "Whence came this madness? Should I count myself fortunate that you did not free my own slaves when you were my guest in Qarth?" - Daenerys III ADWD

And we also see people looking at Dany as if she is mad when she approaches the sick Astapori, because this is something people consider to be very dangerous:

By the time Aggo returned with Grey Worm and fifty of the Unsullied loping behind his horse, Dany had shamed all of them into helping her. Symon Stripeback and his men were pulling the living from the dead and stacking up the corpses, while Jhogo and Rakharo and their Dothraki helped those who could still walk toward the shore to bathe and wash their clothes. Aggo stared at them as if they had all gone mad, but Grey Worm knelt beside the queen and said, "This one would be of help." - Daenerys VI ADWD

That's what the madness vs greatness theme is about. It's not about how half of the Targaryens are great and half are crazy. It's about how to be great you have to be mad (not in the clinical sense, like the ASOIAF fandom thinks, but in the sense that you have to do things most people would consider mad). That's the whole point of the theme and it's why it’s been applied only to Dany's character so far: she is an extraordinary person, someone who would DARE to do something that most people would consider impossible and mad. And even GRRM points this out in his interview:

The whole point of the scene in A Game of Thrones where Daenerys hatches the dragons is that she makes the magic up as she goes along; she is someone who really might do anything. (source)

Finally, I just want to mention that Aegon the Conqueror, who is considered to be the greatest Targaryen for conquering Westeros, was also called mad for this:

“A bold plan,” Grand Maester Orwyle said cautiously, when he heard it. Mushroom prefers “madness,” but adds, “they called Aegon the Dragon mad when he spoke of conquering all Westeros.” - Fire and Blood

#asoiaf meta #daenerys targaryen #my meta

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samgirl98 · 9 months

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Wail of the Silent 6/?

Prev | Next

TW: Mention of Suicide

Spectra smiled as her latest victim patient left her office. She had only been in Gotham for ten days, but she already had a job in Arkham Asylum thanks to overshadowing and fake credentials. The whole place was a pit of misery.

So far, seven patients have killed themselves due to her feeding off them. Oh well, as the saying goes, you have to crack a few eggs to make omelets and all that. It’s not Spectra’s fault they were weak.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t get to the main rogues. They weren’t filled with misery, just madness. They gave her no nutrients, so she avoided them and went for the weaker ones.

Still, the patients in the asylum were nothing compared to the young man she had found the night before. She had left a piece of herself (a new development as her powers grew.) to feed off him when he felt miserable. It had already happened once that day, but he got over it quickly. The bite size snack left her craving more.

Spectra smiled as her next patient entered her room.

____

“You said you had an idea,” Danny asked as Jason led him into a room with three computer screens, some weapons lying around, and a bunch of wooden boxes.

Jason nodded; he had put his red helmet on again.

“Yeah. You know Arkham Asylum?”

“My sister has mentioned it once or twice, but I don’t know much about it. She wants to work there ultimately.”

Danny couldn’t see Jason’s expression but knew Jason was feeling judgmental.

“What? What’s wrong with that?”

“Casper—”

“Casper, wow, so original. I’m nicknamed after my high school.”

“Your high school is called Casper? What the fuck?”

“The elementary school is named Poltergeist elementary school.”

“Poltergeist elementary? No, you know what? That doesn’t matter. Arkham is where the criminally insane end up. I mean, these are people who have little chance of integrating into society, and those who do become ‘better’ usually end up reoffending again. I know of three psychiatrists who worked there who ended up being patients there. Your sister must be a special person to want to work there willingly.”

Hmm, it seemed Danny had to have a word with Jazz.

“You think Spectra is there?”

“There is no other place in Gotham that has as much misery as Arkham Asylum.”

“Okay, I believe you, but how will we know if Spectra is there.”

Amusement. Mischief.

“I can tap into the security camera and database.”

____

Bruce Wayne stared into his cup of coffee. There was guano floating in it. He sighed and looked back at the reports.

Something was wrong in the asylum.

An hour ago, he had gotten a ping of someone who had committed suicide in Arkham; the death had marked the eighth one in ten days, and no one else was worried or investigating it. He knew most people and law enforcement didn’t care for those who resided in Arkham, but to ignore something clearly wrong…well, Bruce wouldn’t be complacent.

He hacked into Arkham’s systems. Batman would get to the bottom of this.

____

Lady Gotham felt her being boiling with anger. Another one of her citizens had ended up dead by their own hands due to the interloper.

She sent the newly formed shade toward her favored knight and the ghost child. She knew they would help her lost ones. For now, she let her rage be known through the thunder and lightning in the sky.

____

“Eight suicides in ten days, and no one has reported on this?” Danny asked incredulously.

Jason shrugged; he knew how little people cared for the patients in Arkham. The only ones who probably noticed and cared were his family the bats. However, they wouldn’t know what could be happening, so it would take them longer to solve the problem.

For half a second, Jason thought about asking for their help but felt phantom pains in his throat.

He felt sadness and regret deep in his chest. (His core was humming out his emotions.)

Soon, he felt an overwhelming misery. It felt as if it was suffocating him!

“Jason! Jason, calm down!”

Calm. I’m here—calm, calm.

It took a moment, but Jason came back to himself. What the fuck was that?

“Spectra has found a way to feed off you even while far away. We need to find her and stop her.”

Anger, anger. I will stop her. Anger—she must be stopped.

Danny touched Jason’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, we’ll find her.”

Jason nodded, already feeling better. A part of him was dreading Danny’s departure, and it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since he met the guy.

Danny kept his hand on Jason’s shoulder, grounding him, while he looked through Arkham’s security camera.

“There! That’s her.”

Jason watched the camera as a red-haired woman left an office. She had on glasses and a red suit.

Jason looked into the records.

“Penelope Spectra. She started ten days ago, the same time the suicides started.”

“I bet if we look around, we’d find suicide rates have gone up in other places.”

Jason nodded and started looking into it. He wouldn’t let the bitch get away with it.

#wail of the silent #dc x dp #dp x dc

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ltwharfy · 2 months

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"Bob's Burgers" Season 9 Episode Ranking Rewatch (Long Post)

So, I've been rewatching "Bob's Burgers" from the beginning and ranking the episodes using the spreadsheet that @babsvibes created! If you want to know why I'm doing this or how I view the 1-5 rating scale, you can check out my Season 1 post! If you want to check out any of the other seasons, I've been using the "bob's burgers episode ranking rewatch" tag for all of them.

Now, on to Season 9:

Average (Mean) Score: 4.55

Mode (Most Common) Ranking: 5

Ranking Breakdown: 12 5s 10 4s

Season as a whole thoughts:

"Bob's Burgers" is turning nine and it's feeling *uses inhaler* fine!

Seriously, this is just another really excellent season in my opinion. It joins Season 4 and 8 as one of the seasons to not getting any episodes rated lower than a 4, and it's average score is good enough for 4th place of the currently ranked seasons below 7, 4, and 5. In some ways, it reminds me a lot of Season 7- a great mix of humor and heart along with introducing some new characters and other innovations- it's definitely representative of the series at its best, in my opinion.

Some thoughts on specific episodes (and feel free to ask if you want my thoughts on an episode I didn't comment on):

"Just One of the Boyz 4 Now for Now": It's a tough call, but this might be my favorite season premiere and my favorite "musical episode" (ie: one with more than the typical 1-2 songs). All the songs are absolute classics and great parodies of romantic comedy tropes! it's really a brilliant episode. It's hard to name a favorite song, but I think I might have to go with "Friend Zone" just because "Now let's kiss over this cake/'Cause it's your birthday, I guess" always cracks me up. The baby rat subplot is also really fun, and a great use of Hugo. And this episode gives us another (brief) appearance of Louise's Boo Boo crush, which is one of my favorite running gags! A great way to start the season.

"The Taking of Funtime One Two Three": While we're on the subject of great songs (or we were recently) "let an egg roll, from your egg hole" and "if wooly mammoths had had wheels maybe they'd still be around" are among the "Bob's Burgers" song lyrics that are always living in my head. Sadly, I rarely have an occasion to say either of them in conversation. I do like to say "To what end, people?!" occasionally, so thanks for that, Trip. Anyway, this is another classic "The Belcher Kids and their friends have an adventure episode" with a healthy does of Mr. Fischoeder and some fun moments with Yuli the security guard, one of my favorite minor recurring characters.

"Tweentrepreneurs": I love this episode because it helped inspire one of my favorite future career headcanons for Louise (and an outlined multichapter fic I'll probably never write). While taking over the restaurant or being a film director seem like the most obvious future career for Louise, this episode has the biggest of about three canon moments that inspired my "Louise Belcher, future labor union organizer" headcanon. I worked in the labor movement for several years and I just think would Louise would love it- taking on the rich and powerful, helping other people stand up for themselves, causing good trouble- it's a really good fit for her. And here she is, leading a walkout at age 9! (And, given my fondness for her relationship with Rudy, I have to mention that it's her concern for his health that is the final straw leading to the walkout.)

"Nightmare on Ocean Avenue Street": Probably my favorite Halloween episode; definitely has my two favorite Halloween costumes! Rudy and Bob are probably the two characters I relate to the most, and it cracks me up that their costumes in this episode are totally things I would do: "what? It might look like I'm wearing normal clothes, but actually I'm totally Paul Rudd or Bruce Springsteen, can't you tell?!" Also, I don't think I've mentioned before how much I love the guy who's about to throw the candy into the incinerator. He's really one of my favorite one-off characters. Dude just got out of six month coma, doesn't know what day it is, still goes to work...and apparently will just throw anything into the incinerator that anybody tells him to (unless he gets a more compelling reason not to)? I think he might rank second after the "Boyz 4 Now" security guard as my favorite nameless one-off character.

"I Bob Your Pardon": Maybe my third or fourth favorite Thanksgiving episode! I've always had an interested in politics and journalism (I wanted to be a journalist when I was a kid) so this hilarious small town Thanksgiving turkey pardoning scandal really hits a lot of the right notes for me. If I had become a journalist, I definitely would've stolen "Well, somebody better call Huey Lewis because I may have found myself some news" as my catchphrase. And the end credits song is a total banger! "Don't you taint my mayor!"

"Better Off Sled": An excellent Christmas episode! Generally speaking, Louise and Logan's dynamic isn't really my jam, but I enjoy them here. The one-upsmanship of the snowball arms race is a lot of fun, and the "stupid Christmas" ending is sweet but not too sweet and feels totally in character for Louise. Also, I can't help but love this exchange: "Then why does it look like your butt could take a sheet of fresh-baked cookies out of the oven?" "Genetics?" (Kristen Schaal's delivery of "genetics?" is one of at least three times on the series when she absolutely kills me with her delivery of a single word). All that being said, I think Teddy is the real comedic MVP of this episode- pretty much everything he says cracks me up! And I love that Rudy is basically the one who saves the day for the Belcher kids! And Knitcracker, I can't believe I didn't mention Knitcracker yet! (That said, it's still not my favorite Christmas episode since it doesn't involve any references to murder mannequins.)

"The Helen Hunt": I feel like this might be one of my least popular shipping opinions but...I like Teddy/Kathleen! Not in the sense that I want to create fic or art for them, but I just think they are kind of sweet together. Like with Roger and Judy from "Aquaticism" they have that "awkward middle-aged people finding each other" vibe that this awkward middle-aged single person finds appealing. And I think her pretty easygoing, laidback nature is a nice contrast to how stressed out/excitable Teddy can be. And I always enjoy people who watch odd sports! Okay, Teddy/Kathleen aside, I also just enjoyed that they did a followup to "Housetrap", and the father and hot son plumbing duo subplot is so cute! "You, you make plumbing fun..."

"Bed, Bob, and Beyond": One of the things I've noticed in this rewatch, is that I really enjoy the three-story episodes (aka vignette episodes aka triptychs aka who knows what else some folks have called them.) I think what I really enjoy is that the reason for them is always different, and therefore it always says something different about the characters and their situations. it's not just the Simpsons having a trio of non-canon Halloween adventures ever year. I think showing Linda and Bob having a stupid fight, and the kids view of it and their efforts to get them to reconcile, was a really clever use of one of these stories. Also, if I am ever asked to do an English accent, I will likely say "I'm watching footie on the telly in the pubby where the beer is". (Which is probably offensive, so please don't ask me to do that!)

"Every Which Way But Goose": Another thing the rewatch has made me appreciate more: Jimmy Jr. and his relationship with Tina. I never hated J-Ju, but I will say that I probably took him and the Tinimmy relationship for granted- it's been there since almost the beginning but I never really thought much about it. But the rewatch has helped me realize how funny of a character J-Ju is (it's just a really funny voice by H. Jon Benjamin) and how the Tinimmy relationship has given us some really funny episodes- most notably this one and "Ex Mach Tina", which are both all-time classics in my book (and, of course, they play a big role in "Bob Actually" as well, but I like that one for other reasons as well.) To me, it's clear from this episode and others that J-Ju does care about Tina...he's just very much a 13 year old boy. So, he's occasionally thoughtful but more often dumb or oblivious. Also, the end credits song to this one is another classic. I wish I could go to a concert of "Bob's Burgers" music just so I could scream out "secret kiss with Bruce the Goose" with thousands of other excited concert goers, because that is what that lyric deserves, dammit!

"The Gene Mile": So, I recently posted about how much I enjoyed some of the Rudy moments in this one. This is another great "Belcher kids and their friends" adventure; and I really wish that Courtney and Alex had more appearances in stories like this- where they and their relationship with Gene isn't really the center of the story- they are just part of the gang! It's always fun to watch different combinations of the kids have fun together. Also, nice for Large Tommy to get his largest role- going back to Season 1 of the rewatch it's funny to think that he was introduced much earlier than some of Louise's more iconic classmates (Rudy, Chloe, Millie, Jessica, Harley, etc.).

"P.T.A. It Ain't So": I feel like this might be the first example in the rewatch of an episode that really grew on me. A lot of the episodes I've given 5s to were ones I remember loving as soon as I saw them. Or they were "sleeper hits" that I had basically forgotten about before rewatching. This episode I remember when I first saw it, and I remember thinking it was fine but nothing great. But on rewatches I just find myself enjoying it more and more. I really love the Kim and Sons hardware store bird subplot- especially the ridiculous flyer the kids make. Also, it's fun watching the kids play with their pipe in the background (such a great kids being kids moment)! But the PTA stuff is great too- I love the fact that Tammy's Dad is Linda's PTA bestie for some reason! And Linda's idea of Colleen being in the shark suit for the dramatic revelation! And the Bleach Boys! Also, as someone who headed a neighborhood political group for a while, Joanne's line "Do you have any idea how many emails I send a week? No, you don't because no one reads them" resonates with me.

Random thoughts (stuff that doesn't affect the ratings):

-More great new characters continue to arrive on the scene! Hi Susmita! Hi Arnold!

-I would totally watch Randy's movie "A Life, Well, Steved". "And I thought to myself, 'I can't take another hurdle. I think I am that baby turtle.'" That's some beautiful, profound stuff there.

See you in the Season 10 post! It could be pretty soon since I've already watched rated it all- just need time to write!

#bob's burgers #bob's burgers season 9 #bob's burgers episode ranking rewatch #long post

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tma-entity-song-poll · 5 months

Text

Battle of the Fear Bands B1R1: The Spiral

Eating my Computer:

"It's genuinely a song written about a spiral episode of TMA. What more could you need?"

youtube

Slide into the void:

"Technically this song is about control (the game) but this is an incredibly spiral coded song. It has everything - the breakdown of the mind, of reality, mazes and fractals and dreams oh my."

youtube

Lyrics below the cut!

Eating my computer:

Hello, I see you wanted to talk It's been so cold, no, don't turn this off I've got something to show you A little video to get to know you The quality's not great but look! There's me Putting something in my mouth; it's a computer key I look at you sadly as I start to eat You didn't even wish me "bon appetit"

And I'm eating my computer Crunch, crunch, crunch Keyboard keys for breakfast, dinner, and lunch You see the red drip from my lips I call this snack computer chips Woah And I'm chewing up bits of the screen but it's glass So it's cutting into my throat as I swallow the mass Of crystal and the blood continues to fall I won't leave until you watch it all

You see me on every single screen This video is seventeen hours long Your power's running low (Oh) It's two a. m. and you open your phone For a moment you know you're alone in your home And then there's me, eating real slow

I'm what you see on your screen But your friends can't see me What you feel isn't real These pixels can't be me A man trapped in a machine If there's a God, how could he be so mean

And I'm collapsing onto my table I ate as much as I was able to Now it's time to say goodbye I give you a smile

Slide into the void:

You hear our words, but you forget Push your fingers through the surface to the wet We wait in the stains, we build you 'til nothing remains In the name of the sound of the name

Repeat the word. Repeat the word. Repeat the word Egg cracks and the truth will emerge A copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy You are home. You remind us. Happy. Hurt

At the edge of understanding, the border of the known The breaking point of reason, where logic is dethroned Where sense is defenceless and festers on the bone You'll find entropy's offensive is rendered in the stone

As you roam through the Oldest House Home to all that you weren't told about Trapped within a labyrinth, it goes without saying That we're praying that they don't get out

Prison for the isn't, sitting hinged within a schism Of half-reflected architecture, dark unending prisms Part objective, part conjecture, partnered with tradition Where the paperwork is worshipped and the rituals are written

When the Black Rock cracks and the Firebreak ends The Director is left as the line of defence When the Trenches have fallen to forces unknown Perhaps you should answer the phone

If you can't place the pin Where patterns end and you begin Follow the Director Else you're gonna slide into the void But if the world you knew Has cracked and fallen through Go to the Projector Load another slide into the void

There's the strangest correlation observation will present In the systems we can witness and the signals they have sent These forces yet unknowable, that ripple through cement Inscrutable intrusions. Altered World Events

Where reality cracks and impacts on the next Dimensions fragment and the Astral projects On benign, undefined, archetypal objects Until Ordinary's torn up, and normal defects

In effect, what you're left with are OoPs Objects of Power, a flying TV A light that can hijack your mind as you see A safe that's encased in a shield of debris

These frequencies are frequently the key to what's perceived to be And vis-à-vis are feeding off the reaches of the mind But recently, the sequence has repeated and repeated And it leaves me with the theory that they're trying to get inside

You hear our words, but you forget Push your fingers through the surface to the wet We wait in the stains, we build you 'til nothing remains In the name of the sound of the name (How do you say "insane"?)

Repeat the word. Repeat the word. Repeat the word Egg cracks and the truth will emerge A copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy You are home. You remind us. Happy. Hurt

If you can't place the pin Where patterns end and you begin Follow the Director Else you're gonna slide into the void But should your world collapse And fall right off the maps Go to the Projector Load another slide into the void

The Director is the Bureau's one connection to the Board Obey the mighty Bakelite and file your reports Telephony in effigy must never be ignored So if you hear a ringing, you had better pull the cord

And explore the décor of the Oceanview Where the doors only open for a chosen few Check your logic at the desk, you won't need it to progress A dream is just a test to be broken through

Like the smoke entombed in the rooms of the ashtray Furniture fractals, the carpet cascades Lost in a labyrinth of lounge chairs and lampshades Wallpaper warps into infinite pathways

There's no limit to the dangers of phenomenon we keep Or the chaos that would reign should the Panopticon be breached This never-ending edifice is perched upon the precipice Since we let in the Resonance, the future's under siege

If you can't place the pin Where patterns end and you begin Follow the Director Else you're gonna slide into the void But if you see the seams Where motels meld with dreams Go to the Projector Load another slide into the void

I've analyzed the data, I've catalogued the signs Run every simulation, every sample I can find I'd give an explanation, but we haven't got the time We're drowning in the waveforms and our minds are in the tide

Of elegant malevolence, sequestered in the Resonance Nesting in the head of every denizen Tell me, is it heaven-sent? Is the Devil even relevant? When questioning the presence of dimensional intelligence?

Thresholds unfold as a door that knocks In the ticking, in the ticking, in the ticking of the clocks We are holding the key, we just don't see the locks Paradise and parasite, in parallel, in paradox

We stand on a mantle where matter divides To abstractive fractures that tangle and writhe Through cracks in reality, trapped in a slide Such intangible sanctuary Hedron provides

Breaking the first, the second, the third The fourth wall, fifth wall, no floor, you fall Earworm humming in a dream Baby, baby, baby, yeah. Just plastic

You want to listen You want to dream You want to smile You want to hurt You don't want to be

If you can't place the pin Where patterns end and you begin Follow the Director Else you're gonna slide into the void But should your towers fall Free your mind and heed the call Go to the Projector Load another slide into the void

#tma #the magnus archives #poll #the spiral #elliotly #the stupendium #Youtube

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wren-kitchens · 9 months

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okay burnout has hit me like a truck in the past couple weeks and right now i’m forcing myself to rest so I can actually. overcome it gajdhsj and this has involved reading a lot of my old wips that I have abandoned

because of this, I have refound an empires s2 flower husbands au I have that I am so obsessed with, so I shall share it with you (you’re so welcome)

below the cut is a whole lot of rambles and a few drabbles of the au that I sent to my good friend stiff at like midnight whilst I was meant to be doing homework last may

(very long post under cut. be warned)

so in s2 when fwhip got the crown (originated in s1 where fwhip’s s1 character—very different from his s2 character—created the Crown (tm), and whoever wore it would have the power to give all the emperors one rule they had to follow. lots of fights broke out, joel had an amazing moment where scott was giving fwhip the crown and he yoinked it just before fwhip could get it, you get the picture) his rule was that everyone had to ‘take care’ of a goblin child. the catch was that you had to hold it in your offhand at all times, and that it was a retextured egg, so if you accidentally threw (yeeted) it, the child would ‘die’ and part of the rule was to NOT YEET THE CHILD. if you ‘killed’ the child, you could either pay 10 raw gold blocks, or care for another child

anyway, scott was the first one to get a child (against his will) and reiterated that he was ‘NOT READY TO BE A FATHER’ and I watched that and thought. I could flower husbands this so I did

scott arriving at jimmys house at the ass crack of dawn (because I imagine scott to be an early riser and jimmy to not) pounding on his door until a very tired jimmy opens it and asks wtf he’s doing it’s like 6am, whereupon scott thrusts a baby in his face like ‘HELP ME I AM NOT READY FOR THIS’. this wakes jimmy up, understandably

I imagine they’d have a conversation like ‘why do you- WHY DO YOU HAVE A CHILD??’ ‘FWHIPS RULE, JIMMY YOU GOTTA HELP ME’ ‘ME?? WHY DO YOU THINK I COULD HELP??’ ‘I DON’T KNOW YOU SEEM LIKE YOU’D BE GOOD WITH KIDS’ ‘WHY’

after about five minutes of shouting, the baby (who had been asleep this whole time) wakes up and starts to cry. scott is not ready for this and sort of holds the baby at arm’s length, panicked. jimmy sort of sighs and goes ‘give them to me’. turns out, jimmy is surprisingly good with kids, unbeknownst to him (tiny tom was gifted to jevin before he could even process it) and to the great relief of scott, who had been panicking the whole night

so. jimmy and scott are now co-parenting a child. surely no romantic tension can come from this!

well, at the start, they’re barely allies—scott only allied with jimmy so he’d get free gunpowder, and never spared a second thought when it came to teasing him, so for the first couple days, it’s quite awkward between them. mainly on scotts part—jimmy didn’t want the baby to be moved too much, and insisted that scott be just as involved as raising the child as he was, so scott just kinda. stayed at jimmy’s

they’d occasionally nip out to get more food or to explain their absence in meetings, to enormous teasing and some genuinely helpful tips from joel and sausage, who had a pretty similar experience when raising hermes (thrust into parenthood by accident and somewhat panicked when babies did what babies do best, cry through the night, poop and make lots of mess), but most of the time they’d be in the house, or taking a short walk around tumble town with the baby. what I mean to say is, they spend an awful lot of time together

so one evening they’re sat on the porch watching the sunset, the baby asleep in jimmy’s arms, and they start to talk. like actually talk; they’d been kind of skirting around each other and making semi-awkward small talk for the past couple of weeks until now, and it feels good to actually feel like they’re close. almost friends

and it sort of blooms from there

they start to actually talk every day now, even just making passing remarks and jokes that feel friendly rather than hostile, offering to take the baby when they can tell the other is tired, and sharing quiet smiles when the baby finally gets to sleep

jimmy starts teasing scott about how terrified he looked when he arrived at the door, and about how terrified he looks still every time he changes the baby’s nappy. scott makes jokes about jimmy being the opposite of an early bird, and ‘fixes’ his bed-head by ruffling it even more

it gets to a point where they’re just sharing casual touches—bumping hips and squeezing shoulders as they pass each other; resting their head on each other’s shoulders as they complain about how they tired they are; jokingly calling each other ‘beloved husband’ and pretending to kiss each other’s hand—and they realise that huh. maybe they’re not so bad after all

they settle on a name for the baby: lexie. it took a lot of back and forth (jimmy wanted to name her alex, scott wanted to name her robbie, they settled on lexie as a compromise. scott jokes sometimes that they should have gotten another child and called them steve, if they were to go with jimmy’s name)

it takes them a few weeks to notice that.. lexie has changed since they took her in. she’s more real, more solid, more warm than she used to be. her crying sounds more human, and her appetite is increasing, and they realise that-

fwhip didn’t give them real children at all. he knew of course that it would be a complete disaster if he did, and he was right—so many of the dolls (because that’s all they originally were, dolls) were broken and damaged, over and over again. but lexie wasn’t. she was never hurt, she was never damaged, nothing beyond a simple scratch from a confused norman or a bruise where she’d banged her arm on the corner of the table. and so lexie.. stopped being a doll.

fwhip came over to check one day, curious if the goblin baby was still unbroken and safe (the crown had long since been passed on, there was no need for them to keep the baby) and was enormously surprised to find out that, not only was she safe, but she was alive—alive in a way that he never thought could be possible—and a stranger sight still: a family

because that’s what they were, no matter how it’d come to pass. a confusing, chaotic, happy, healthy family

and slowly, ever so slowly, something between scott and jimmy started to change.

they revelled in lexie learning to crawl, to babble, the first time she tried solid food, the first time she bit their fingers and they felt teeth, and they did it together. they groaned at 4am feedings, and gagged at nappy changes, and went to bed exhausted, and they did it together. they cooked and cleaned and brushed their teeth over the sink and they did it together. everything they did, it was together

and they were just waiting for it to be monotonous. they anticipated the moment when it became annoying, or tiresome, or flat out unbearable with dread. but that moment never came

sure, they’d get sick of each other every once in a while. jimmy would snap at scott’s teasing in the early morning, and scott would refuse to change lexie’s nappies until he’d had a nap. but barely minutes later the outbursts would be followed by a bashful hug from behind, a mumble of ‘i’m sorry, I wasn’t fair’, a promise of ‘i’ll try to do better’

they started to find that they simply didn’t have it in them to hate it. they just couldn’t bring themselves to dislike the other; not with jimmy and his early morning drowsiness, his bright laughs, his gentle strength; not with scott and his late night weariness, his soft smiles, his teasing jokes

and soon they started to realise that they were headed towards something very different to hate

scott understood first

he’d been having these feelings for a while now, and his suspicion had started to increase every time he couldn’t help laughing when jimmy was a particularly big goof, or how his heart would soar when he’d wake up entangled in jimmy’s embrace.

it wasn’t until one night, long after lexie had fallen asleep, when both of them sat on the sofa, reading.

but today, he hadn’t been able to see jimmy as much; there was a mandatory meeting for all the rulers, with the exception of jimmy and scott, as they were taking care of lexie: only one of them had to go. scott, who only had to take one look at poor, sleepy jimmy to know that if he was to go, zero information would be retained, offered to go instead.

the meeting was much longer than he’d anticipated, and certainly not on a topic he’d deem mandatory to attend—something about pix remaining a ghost after he withered away at the princess party.

either way, when scott came back, jimmy had spent almost the entire day looking after lexie, and stopped only to give scott a one-armed hug and inform him that lexie was in her crib before he went for a nap. scott was seriously deprived of jimmy time.

which is why he’s staying up late now—just to get in as much time as he can before he inevitably falls asleep. which seems to be happening much faster than he’d anticipated.

next to him, scott hears the familiar quiet chuckling of jimmy, and the sound of a page being marked.

“scott, tell me you didn’t stay up just so you could see me.” jimmy says softly.

“never.” scott blinks, trying to escape the heaviness of his eyelids. in fact, his whole body feels heavy with sleep, as if weighed down by some invisible force.

“you sausage.” jimmy says, and scott notes the fondness in jimmy’s voice. “i’m gonna take you to bed, is that alright?”

“I think I can manage that.” jimmy says.

scott feels arms underneath his knees and around his waist, before he’s hoisted into the air. he presses close to jimmy’s chest, wrapping his arms around jimmy’s neck and burying his face in his shirt.

“I missed you today.” scott tells him. “I kept looking over to make a face at you in the meeting, but you weren’t there.”

jimmy smiles, and scott thinks he could watch him do just that all day. “you sap.”

“you’re carrying me to bed, jimmy.” scott points out.

“I never said I wasn’t a sap.” jimmy tells him, pushing their bedroom door open with his hip. “lucky you’re in your pyjamas already, because I would’ve made you get up to change.”

“I take it you are changing?” scott says, smiling again as jimmy lays him carefully down on the bed and pulls the covers around him. “thank you.”

jimmy presses his lips against scott’s forehead, and his eyes flutter shut. “‘course. beloved husband.”

something in scott’s chest glows as he slips into the land of sleep, and as jimmy’s arms wrap around him from behind a minute later, he can’t help admitting to himself something he thinks he might have known for a long time.

because wow. he really does love jimmy, huh?

so one day, scott is up early (as usual) and feeding lexie at the table when jimmy comes up behind him and hugs him from behind, wearing his pyjamas - which are just joggers and a white tshirt - and scott is able to see something that he hadnt actually noticed before: along the outsides of jimmy's arms are small little scars, looking curiously close to stitches

scott asks how he got them when jimmy is awake enough, and jimmy just goes 'oh yeah, joel did it'. scott just kinda. stares at him for a moment until jimmy realises thats a very confusnig answer, and explains a little more

joel, however he may claim, is very new to his powers, and for a while didnt actually understand how they worked. he and sausage never actually meant to create a real child (hermes didnt have a name for a long time), they were just mucking around one night and somehow hermes became alive. something similar happened with jimmy

joel just thought it was a funny joke to call jimmy a toy, and being unaware of his powers, never really considered that it coukd have a genuine affect on jimmy. but sure enough, jimmy started to notice significant changes, and after a while, he had become a toy. jimmy just thought joel had done it on purpose, and for a while he was just furious with him for doing this to him

but when they formed their alliance after the fighting was over, joel saw the stitching along his arms and the yarn of his hair and was entirely panicked when jimmy asked him to reverse it, because he had no idea he could do that and was horrified to find out that he'd done this to jimmy

jimmy was somewhat relieved to know that joel didnt actually do it on purpose, and slightly terrified to find out that joel had. no clue how to reverse it

it took a little while of trial and error, but finally joel figured out how to turn him back into a human. the only issues? it hurt. jimmy supposed he should have expected it - the initial transformation had happened over months - but at that moment all he could think about was how awful the pain was.

afterwards, joel healed his wounds, and explained with a shellshocked expression that the stitches had ripped out of his arms (thats where the scars came from, jimmy tells scott.) it stopped hurting very shortly after, what with joel's healing, but sometimes jimmy feels almost phantom pains in his arms from that horrible moment

scott likes to trace up and down the scars on his arms, sometimes to calm jimmy, sometimes just because he likes the look on jimmy's face when he does it

#long post #empireshipping #flower husbands #empires jimmy #empires scott #empires fwhip #empires lexie #i’m giving her a tag because I love her #wren writes #wren wrambles #baby doll au #<- name of the au oooh

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dearinglovebot · 5 months

Text

the lore of tgirl claire is SO rich in my head. she realizes young that she’s Different. like as soon as she gains sense of self that egg is starting to crack. but she’s like “I’m probably a girl but I’ve got a test on monday to study for so idgaf”. she has no friends mainly because she’s weird and intense (autistic) but also partially because she’s from nowhere wisconsin and everyone can kind of tell that she’s not good at being a boy but they’re not sure how to react to that. she’s subconsciously internalizing all of this.

the MOMENT she leaves for college she’s trying to get estrogen. picks a big city college specifically so she can go anonymous so no one will remember the old her. grows her hair out, does a complete wardrobe overhaul, and starts going by claire full time. within a year she’s unrecognizable.

as soon as she can, she starts living her life as stealth. she THOROUGHLY thinks over what stories in her childhood might give her away and eventually ends up staying quite about her past all together. she doesn’t have a clear idea why it feels like the world will end if people find out because she’s deeply repressed about how lonely and sad she is but she does know that the world will actually end if people find out.

jurassic world is such an appealing offer because it means she gets to move countries, pretend her boymode days never existed, distance herself from anyone who knows about it, and no one will even question if she’s cis or not because why would they? it’s like paradise for her. AND she’s the boss. so everyone is going to be too scared to pry into her life or question her.

but she’s so invested in keeping up appearances that it genuinely ruins any social life she might develop. she’s in constant denial that she’s lonely because she didn’t even have friends growing up so this is all NORMAL and she’s so NORMAL and WELL ADJUSTED. she’s weary around making any friends and she’s especially weary about having queer friends because none of that is worth even the suspicion of having connections to queerness.

it seeps into her relationship with karen, who is the most supportive and strongest advocate she ever had. but karen was also there for every moment of her childhood and it makes her cringe to think about. so she leans into avoidance because it’s so much easier. zach, too. but with him, his first years happened with her in early transition, so she’s always hyper aware of that. realistically, zach has only ever known her as aunt claire, but in her head, she can’t shake that same “the world is going to end” mentality.

and it’s almost understandable to be so cautious. she’s a high powered woman with a reputation to keep. let alone all the personal danger it can bring. it’s all rooted in valid fear which is what also makes it tragic. but it’s to the point of constantly affecting her mental health. it’s another part of the persona she builds at jurassic world as the frigid, untouchable boss…

anyways I’m really normal about this headcanon and I think about it a normal amount

#jurassic world #claire dearing #trans posting

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gabessquishytum · 1 year

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I know I'm the worst, and this is crack and also not very sexy, but. a concept I guess.

What if Hob DOES have a womb next time they try this, because Dream just likes to be anatomically accurate when he gives Hob a vulva (he's a perfectionist like that). and when Dream comes inside Hob again, this time in his cunt, he does try to be a little more careful because, er, there is no "out" if he comes too much inside Hob's cunt the way it would if he came in his arse, Dream just wants to quickly see Hob's belly swell *exactly* as if he were pregnant and then plug him him up with a finger.

Dream is... slightly overenthusiastic, though. It's a real accident, he legit gets carried away, he's not being mean or anything. They're talking dirty to each other about Hob being inevitably pregnant after this, and Dream is a little overwhelmed and not only does he will Hob being fertile and ovulating into existence because he's so caught up by the daydream, but he also gets a liiil too much of his come in Hob.

It hurts. Hob has the whole package, ovaries and tubes included, and a tide of come rushes up there too. Dream is a bit slow to notice and unplug Hob, he just came so hard, and for a bright-hot moment Hob's ovaries are swollen full of come, and because of Dream's power all of Hob's eggs end up fertilized even though that shouldn't be possible... all 80k viable eggs you still have in you at age 34 (according to google), inculding the one (two? three?) that are ovulating.

Hob is 100% pregnant. Dream immediately apologises but... he can't undo it. He can't, because he can't unmake something he wants so badly to make come true, that's not how his power works, it's very much will-dependent.

And so Hob is a) stuck in the Dreaming, b) currently pregnant, c) pregnant immediately after birth again and again until Dream has the strength of will to say, okay, enough, you've given me enough children, I can make you dream of being pregnant and can see your body swollen with me that way, I can take not seeing you huge because you're ACTUALLY full with my child, and give Hob's body back.

Problem: Dream is addicted to seeing Hob ACTUALLY pregnant, knowing it's "real" hits different, and also he falls in love with each child they have so he keeps wanting more. Hob every time just sighs in fake exasperation and goes with it (he's very happy because Dream absolutely worships his body and gives him the best sex ever and Hob ios so happy to be so full of Dream always and Dream is so happy when each child is born and is such a good dad Hob would do anything for him even if he didn't want this - which he does).

It takes a couple decades before Dream can will away Hob's womb and ovaries and eggs and Hob gets his body and human life back. Both of them are extremely happy with their chain of happy accidents and don't regret a second of it tho <3

-PA

Listen,,, cracksmut is an underrated genre in my opinion.... and Oh shit you KNOW pregnant Hob is my fucking WEAKNESS my love <333 Dream would really be Like That wouldn't he? Any opportunity to fill his beloved up with his seed and his children. And consider: Hob is really into it too. He's lived through a lot of stuff, the normal stuff and the weird stuff, and doesn't he keep living for the experience of it all? The fact that he's rolling around in the LITERAL PALM OF DREAM’S HAND?? Hello??? He's so turned on he thinks he might go into cardiac arrest!! Every time Dream fills his lil tiny pussy up with cum, he falls in love all over again.

He wants to have kids with Dream, however it has to happen. And he's super fucking turned on by being swollen full of his beloved's cum, super turned on by his own lovely cunt, turned on by the fact that Dream owns him. A couple of decades living as Dream’s little wifey in the dreaming? Sign Hob up immediately. He gets to have a little family, gets to raise his kiddos, and then eventually when both he and Dream are finished he gets to head back to the waking world (ironically his own son or nephew or whatever).

And every single night he enters the dreaming where the two of them replicate those memories, and Dream fills his lover up with his seed all over again. And Hob thinks about that first time that Dream lost control, and his heart beats a bit faster <3

They are stupid and in love and I think they should do a lot of stupid kinky sex stuff and have babies and live forever and forever.

#PA anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw pregnancy #cw body horror

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