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severepink · 4 months

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Observing Adam

Where I go way too deep into something that probably isn't that deep. It's long, it's long as hell.

Okay, so you'd think with how Adam talks he's just a typical misogynist, right?

This man worships pussy. So much so, he's named a whole ass angel, one of his best, Vagina. You'd say that he objectifies them and thinks of them as being lesser, but I don't think that's the whole story. In fact, I think he might be the original simp.

All of these exorcists so far have been women. All of them. He refers to them as ladies or bitches interchangeably, he sees them as being completely capable of absolutely decimating leagues of some of the most vile beings who have ever existed, and they have, to the point it was only after thousands of years that there's been a risk to this hierarchy.

He's a self-centered, egotistical, loud-mouthed, arrogant asshole, no doubt about it, but I'm beginning to suspect something now.

If Adam and Lilith were created from the same dust, if they were created as equals, I am more than willing to bet... Lilith is also a self-centered, egotistical, arrogant asshole. But, she's likely far more intelligent, composed, and duplicitous.

Lilith was allowed to refuse Adam and leave of her own free will and garnered her own independence. A new wife was created for Adam, she was replaced. My guess, is she thought Adam wouldn't be able to live without her, to come back and find herself replaced entirely, she was enraged.

I believe both Adam and Lilith were both incredibly dominant individuals who fought over ideas, thoughts, and ultimately in the bedroom as well, if we take into account the creationist stories.

I'm willing to bet she likely manipulated Lucifer into twisting humanity against its original concept. What if Lucifer's intention truly was to just spark something within Eve, like independence and thought and creation, but it was Lilith's poison within the fruit that tainted her, then subsequently Adam, with sin.

Lilith thrived in hell, while Lucifer's dreams of creation were dashed. She didn't suffer as he did, instead the power of her voice grew with hell. Her voice grew so powerful that heaven found it to be a threat, her actions instigated the beginning of exterminations.

Charlie said that when she was a little girl, she didn't know Lucifer at all. I don't think this was because of Lucifer, he's seen here, picking her up, inviting her to share in his thoughts and dreams, showing her something wonderful. Something she could see within herself.

Charlie says that it's this moment that sparked her will to fight for her dreams. Which is strange, because at the very beginning of the story, Charlie says it was her mother's dream that was passed down to her.

Lilith took Charlie away. In this scene, Lucifer wasn't done showing Charlie his thoughts and dreams, he's still yearning to show his daughter these things at this point.

Lucifer loves his daughter. He loves Charlie so, so, so much. So why wasn't he allowed to build a relationship with his daughter for the longest time? He was waiting for the opportunity to get to know her, but with how much he adores her why didn't he do it sooner? He didn't comment on 'It took you a while-' he just said he missed her smile. They don't want to be pulled apart, again.

Now, we know Vivziepop has said that Lucifer and Lilith love each other, but Lilith 'wears the pants' in the relationship. We see all of the pictures all over the walls of a supposedly happy family. I don't think the relationship was as loving as originally portrayed and Lilith is a woman who desires control above all else. She likely tried to mitigate what influence Lucifer had over their daughter when she thought his angelic thoughts and behaviors became more than what she approved of.

Lets take it back to Adam and Lute for a moment. Again, Adam is a loud mouthed idiot, he's a jerk. The moment he realizes there are demons in heaven, he's ready to go on the attack. It's only because of Lute that he didn't end up doing something absolutely idiotic.

I gotta say, Lute and Adam's relationship is an absolutely fascinating one. He's a disrespectful dick head in how he talks, but how he acts is a different story. He allows Lute to man-handle him. He does listen to her, even if he's a whiny bitch about it.

Look at him, this is the face of a man listening, a dumb one, but a dude listening all the same. He doesn't manhandle her back, he doesn't even pull away until she lets go of his collar. Of all the shit he complained about, between being grabbed and being told what to do, his biggest complaint is that she's telling him to shush.

We know that Adam is the one who suggested the exterminations to begin with, so Sera says, and this was because of the power that Lilith was amassing. To him, Lilith is a threat. Even when he was willing to move on, to go to another wife when Lilith didn't want him or want to submit to him (fair babe, he's a bit of an idiot), she came back with an angel and proceeded to manipulate his new wife Eve. This is the supposed progenitor of man-kind, the original dick (hilariously enough), the reason civilization even exists at all. He and Eve had to fight for their lives after being tempted with the fruit. They had immortality, they had no ideas of shame, they were supposedly 'innocent' creatures before Lilith and Lucifer came along. He and Eve had to fight tooth and nail to survive after being cast from Eden. I think it shows in how willing and ready he is to take lead and do what he believes needs to be done, now out of a need for entertainment rather than a need to defend or protect. But, he still stopped to listen to Lute's advice. In the mythological story of Adam and Eve, Adam is the one who has to tell Eve that god said don't eat the fruit. Eve never heard god speak to her, so she was vulnerable to the snake's manipulations. She will now die because she ate it, and because she did not want Adam to take another wife, convinced him to eat it unknowingly. Funnily enough, Adam tried to explain to god that 'she lied to me and gave me the fruit' and in this actual mythology, Adam was punished for listening to his wife. Even without mentioning Lilith in the original mythology, Eve didn't want Adam to take another wife, so when we consider it within the context of Hazbin Hotel, it may be likely that's how it went down. Eve knew of Lilith, knew that she could be replaced, and decided that she would take Adam with her.

I believe that Adam does and did rely on the women in his life to help him with direction. I think Adam knows he can be an idiot and is willing to listen, even if he doesn't agree with what he's hearing. He did listen to Charlie in the beginning, he just didn't believe in her, like everyone else and he, out of anyone there, probably had the most reason not to. Cain and Abel were his and Eve's sons, his own child became the first murderer. Out of jealousy, the same kind of jealousy that no doubt has caused Lilith to act how she did. Adam isn't going to have empathy for sinners. His family, his legacy, were filled with the original sinners. He probably had to kill his son Cain in hell during the first exterminations. What do you think he would have had to feel, if it came to be a fact that sinners could be redeemed? That maybe his son, could've been redeemed? Or any of his progeny for that matter? How did it feel when his sons, his progeny, weren't given the same mercy as the Hellborn that Lucifer managed to keep protected through some deal with the angels or god? Not to mention that Charlie could've been his daughter. Charlie is the product of the people who completely and totally destroyed the paradise he'd been born into. She's the daughter who is protected and immune from the slaughter while all of his sons and daughters are judged and killed. I believe, even though he was a dickish prankster to Charlie, he was surprisingly patient and even somewhat amicable, willing to even ask her how her weekend was like he was just trying to get to know her.

Adam could just see all of the angels under his employ as being disposable. He doesn't have to name them, or think about them in any individual fashion. But, he knows Vaggie, recognized her instantly. Thought she was badass. Lute's the one who saw her, tore her wings off, and walked away. I'm surprised they even let her live, because this just goes against everything they're doing. They're an army and they saw one of their own showing empathy to the enemy.

Look at this dumb ass. He's being a shit-head, a dick, a bastard. But, he admires Vaggie's ability to pull Charlie, congratulates her, this dude isn't even judging her for being a lesbian. I don't think it's because he objectifies women, this dude loves women, he just does. He respects fellow vagina lovers. I don't think he respects liars in the slightest though. He's being underhanded, he's trying to be manipulative (he's not very good at it). I think he's brutally open and honest about everything and that's probably one of the reasons he's such a bastard anyways, because sometimes you just need to shut-up and he's not good at that.

I don't think he respects Sera for that either, he's more than willing to let others know what the hell he's doing, but under Sera's lead, he can't be open about it. I don't think it's his jam to act this way, it's why he sucks so bad at it and I think that's why Lilith is so antithetical to him. I also think that's why he's possibly even being manipulated.

It's kind of crazy that Adam is the only one who tries to come up with what allows someone to get into heaven. So here's his list: 1. Act Selfless: Maybe at one point he was! He had to have been, to be one of the progenitors of mankind, he would have had to work, sacrifice, and give to his wife and children for them all to survive. Eve would have had to do the same, no doubt. He may not seem selfless, due to his raunchy behavior, but he's served heaven since he's been there. He's served humanity in some kind of facet. 2. Don't Steal: Considering the only other humans are his spawn, he likely had to try and get them to not steal from one another for them all to have an equal opportunity of survival. He and Eve likely both knew they would need to work together to survive.

3. Stick it to the man: This, however, is interesting. Who is 'The Man' he speaks of? God? The only other people over him or were equal to him were women. He speaks like a rocker, and I think in this case he's using the term 'The Man' in a gender neutral way. I think he allowed some amount of Authority to Lilith when they were supposed to be seen as equals, it comes so naturally to him as a character when it comes to the other women he's been interacting with. I think she is the 'man' that he's been sticking it to- Pun somewhat intended. ((This third one may also simply be a tongue in cheek reference to when Alex Brightman played Dewey in School of Rock on Broadway! Thank you to the user who brought this to my attention!))

Adam is a bit of a hypocrite, isn't he? He likes to fuck, he's made that abundantly clear. Full of lust you could say. It was his original purpose after all, and he is judging Angel Dust for something he probably would've done himself at one point or has considered doing (maybe not the having sex with men part). Angel Dust does all of these things, Adam doesn't even deny it. He even looks nervous. He's angry, but doesn't deny that Angel has done those things. He doesn't explain it away or try to lie or move the goal posts, he's just asking what is an actually very valid question.

Why isn't Angel Dust there if he can do things equal to what Adam himself hasn't done? Serenity continues that line of thought. It isn't until Charlie is realizing no one knows what it takes to get into heaven.

Adam is more than willing to let Lute take the lead here, he's willing to give her the stage to clap back, he's giving her back-up antics. By all means, they could be pushing and fighting one another, there could easily be body language expressing something other than their general comfort around one another. They aren't fighting for a spotlight like you'd expect Adam to try and do considering his egotistical attitude.

Adam fucking sucks at keeping his mouth shut and he sucks at lying. He nearly blew the secret out of the bag once, this time, Sera is the only one who tries to stop him and to be honest? Lute looks a bit too thrilled at it. He knows he fucked up, but he doesn't think it's a big deal that anyone would know. For fucks sake, they've already condemned souls, his progeny, to suffer. What's the big deal if he kills them?

I have to re-iterate what's happening here. Charlie is proud she caused this chaos, that she caused these angels to fight amongst themselves, even if in this case it's a good thing. But, this is like history repeating itself to Adam, the reflection of his ex-wife, entering his domain, causing strife among his people, being happy about it.

And the venom he expresses when it comes to the 'liar' portion, god Alex Brightman destroyed when he got to this portion specifically. There is some vehement disgust in his tone when he says liar.

Adam isn't a good person now. But, I think he used to be a good person. By all means, Adam himself could've been the first murderer when his wife made her mistake. He, at one point in time, had to have been good enough to foster civilization itself with Eve. Both good and bad. Adam's original purpose was to be fruitful and multiply. Ordained by god (or maybe just angels) himself, divine power directed and created him to fuck. He didn't chase his ex-wife down, he was given a new one, Lilith was allowed to leave. When he left things alone, when he tried to move on, his ex-wife and a scorned angel destroyed the paradise he was in with Eve. He had to struggle and toil, he had to feel shame in his own body. He had to find out his first born son was the first murderer. His second son killed. We don't know if this is going to be canon in the story, a lot has changed, and if Adam is the first soul who reached heaven, then what did happen to Abel? Was Abel considered a sinner? Or did Cain kill Abel after Adam had passed? Either way, he had to witness his children kill, he had to watch his descendants behave in a range from saints and monsters. He's seen genocides, he's seen famine, war. Adam is desensitized to the plights of his descendants. Maybe he even saw it as a duty to cleanse the universe of their existence at one point, because they were his responsibility.

At the end of this episode, he is properly scolded by Sera and does seem ashamed of himself. He isn't huffy, he is reminded that he should be ashamed of acting that way.

I love Lute's enthusiasm, she's absolutely brutal when talking about Vaggie and with how she handled Vaggie. I think it's funny that Lute is so brutal she's even made Adam uncomfortable. It's cute that he's made uncomfortable by the excitement and all he does is tell Lute, the premier hype woman over here, to chill. She's so proud of herself too, look at her.

He fully expects these exorcist bad bitches to go in there and fuck shit up. But, you know it's hilarious that he's throwing horns? This dude, this angel. First human soul in heaven, loving rock n' roll, the devil's music, and throwing motherfucking horns. It's poetic really. I think we can probably assume where things are going.

Now, this is the first point we've seen Adam being a real piece of shit to Lute. I don't think Adam likes it when people think he's too dumb to notice something, especially something so damn obvious. This is such a drastic moment of vitriolic, uncontrolled anger directed towards Lute. Adam knows he isn't the brightest tool in the shed. He likely knows he's obtuse and misses shit. It's why he sucks at lying, he knows he's not smart. That is why I think he's afforded women opportunities to direct him without fighting back against their advice and their choices. I'm sure Lilith made it obvious how dumb she thinks Adam is. I'm wondering if this might be where their ground breaking fight might've come from. Who's to say he didn't allow Lilith to take the lead, or listen to her like he's done with Lute here and now? Perhaps to an even greater point? He listened to Eve and ate from the fruit of knowledge and he was punished for it. Being seen as so dumb he can't formulate a simple fact is a sore spot for him.

Adam is incredibly powerful. It took a bit out of him to exercise that power, probably because he's out of practice just like Lucifer said. At one point, he probably wasn't so sloppy and weak willed. He's gotten lazy. Sloth like.

I think it got real personal here. How viscerally and personally he attacked Charlie. No one but Charlie truly thought sinners could be redeemed, or that they were even worth it. Not even one of the original sinners. Maybe he never considered the possibility, maybe what happened really did make him see the world as black and white to cope with that happened to him, his wife, his children. Charlie's desire to fight this idea would destroy the foundation for all of his coping through the years. He stopped seeing them as family, even though he's grandiose about his founding role in humanity. Does that itch the guilt that may lurk under the surface?

I don't think Adam thought much of Charlie at all. I don't think he had any intention of coming to kill her in the beginning, despite seeing her, despite who her parents were. But, I think with the constant push, with how eager she was to disrupt the pre-conceived idea of order, it reminded Adam and reflected her parents so much, he was eager to kill her for revenge against them. I think this electrical interference on the mask is a direct reflection of sin. Namely, wrath, in this moment.

Now, this. THIS. Is something that made me want to write this whole fucking essay. Is Lucifer implying that he not only gave Eve the Fruit from the tree of knowledge, but FUCKED HER TOO? Homies, I'm sorry but holy shit. That is some hydrating tea. I'd be pretty pissed too, fucked over twice by women who were supposed to be literal soul mates, who you were made for, who were made for you?

I knew he would have a goatee, I could almost hear it. I gotta say, I'm a sucker for how he looks. I think he's hot. He is a bastard, but so are a lot of the hot dudes in this show. It's just a theme.

This exact series of lines prompted so many of the thoughts that I had about Adam and why he thinks or acts the way he does. At one point, Adam did have to work himself to the bone and learn to survive from scratch alongside Eve. He isn't entirely without cause to not think that he deserves some respect or recognition from his descendants.

But, that doesn't give him the right to act like god himself. It's... well... Blasphemous. Isn't it? One of the worst sins is to think yourself to be worthy of worship, as if you're a god.

This is the moment that gave me empathy for them both. You could probably see the kind of loving person Adam could have been at one point with how he looks at Lute, even as he's laying there, dying. He's not crying like a bitch, just looking at Lute softly. Lute screaming for him, screaming his name. They cared for each other deeply.

And this... and this.... and this. WHAT DEAL DID YOU MAKE, LILITH? Did you make it with Sera? Did you make it with Adam? Did you make it with Lute? Did you really just want a little 'vacay' away from the hell you helped create? Left her husband, depressed and lonely. Left her daughter without any care or guidance. Maybe Alastor was sent in her place, perhaps? Seven years since he was seen after all, but why wouldn't he show up sooner if Lilith did care? Did she make a deal with Lute and Adam? Did she let Adam smash it so she could stay in heaven? Did Lute let her stay in exchange for getting Adam out of a position of power? Or was it maybe Sera who commissioned Lilith with a deal? Either way, I'm in full belief that it wasn't Adam's idea to move the extermination day up. I think he's a patsy, a scapegoat. I think Lute may have been manipulated, potentially, into manipulating Adam into this position. Was it even really Adam who came up with the idea to do the exterminations? Or was he the one who simply decided to fight originally because he was told heaven was at risk due to Lilith's rising power? The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions. I think it could be any number of these. Either way, Lute certainly does think she had authority over Lilith. Is it Lute just having hubris? Or is Lilith truly bound, just like Alastor, Husk, and Angel Dust?

Of course, now that we know a soul can be redeemed... and we certainly know that angels can fall. I don't think this will be the last we see of Adam.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #adam hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #eve hazbin hotel #lilith hazbin hotel #lilith morningstar #character study

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garysprites · 2 months

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just how big are the planets in homestuck?

this is a question that has been in the back of my mind for a while now and i thought i might as well try to figure it out.

first we're gonna need a good reference point.

fortunately andrew hussie made this part easy for me.

we know the stick on the floor in this panel is a meter stick with exactly 8.56cm snopped off to make it exactly one yard. as a canadian im more comfortable working in the metric system, but i'll take what i can get.

at its longest points, this stick is 211 pixels in length. 211 divided by 3 is 70.33333333…

let's round this down to the first decimal point to make things easier for myself.

ok so in the homestuck universe one foot is 70.3 pixels. at 417 pixels, this would make hussie in the same panel just shy of 6 feet (1.8m) tall.

with this unit of measurement we can start measuring other things.

john, at 222 pixels from the bottom of his shoes to the top of his hair, comes out at 3.2 feet (1m). quite short for a 13yo, but i digress.

safe assumption that john remains 3.2 feet no matter how far away you are. with john zoomed out to 87 pixels in height, a foot is now equivalent to 27.2 pixels, again rounded to the first decimal point. that would make the alchemiter next to him, at 278 pixels, 10.2 feet (3.1m) tall. the door, at 179 pixels, is 6.6 feet (2m) tall. the window, at 125 pixels, is 4.6 feet (1.4m) tall.

let's zoom out again.

john is a minuscule 27 pixels in this panel. the doors are a diminutive 51 pixels tall and the windows a whopping 36 pixels. alliteration aside, this would make a foot at this distance a mere 8 pixels. with this in mind, the entire house, at 703 pixels tall on the right-side wall (not including the railing), is 87.9 feet (26.8m) tall.

once again we zoom out.

the same wall in this panel is 117 pixels tall, making a foot from this distance a mere 1.3 pixels. the pillar it rests atop of, from the end of the driveway to the point where it meets the clouds, is 182 pixels or 140 feet (42.7m) tall.

one more zoom out.

the combined 227.9 feet (69¹.5m) of the house and pillar combined have been reduced to a mere 10 pixels here. with the length of a foot now immeasurably² small, let's just go ahead and make this our new point of reference. at 250 pixels, the diameter of LOWAS is the same as 25 of john's house plus pillar, or 5,697.5 feet (1,737m). this would make its circumference 17,899.2 feet (5,456m).

we only need to measure LOWAS its been demonstrated a few times that all the homestuck planets are roughly the same size.

at a diameter of less than a two kilometers, the homestuck planets would most likely be astronomically classified as asteroids. it would take about an hour and a half to walk all the way around a homestuck planet. not that you even could walk on it because assuming they had a density comparable to earth, homestuck planets would have an acceleration of gravity of 0.0000000000000001 m/s^2 (for reference earth's acceleration of gravity is on average 9.80665 m/s^2)

anyway that's how big the planets are in homestuck.

¹nice ²technically measurable i just dont feel like it

#homestuck #gnome talk #gif #flashing cw #flashing images

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deadsetobsessions · 4 months

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Green Lantern hovered in the doorway of the med bay. He’d been summoned, but he had no idea what for.

“You know, spooky, some of us have lives to get back to. Not everyone can exist off of just work and blood or whatever,” Hal poked fun at Batman, who rubbed at his jaw tiredly. Hal blinked, stamping down the guilt that arose at Batsy’s uncharacteristic show of any emotion other than stone cold rationality or exasperation or anger. At least they’ve moved past grunts. That just lends credence to Hal’s theory of Batman being an immortal, like Vandal Savage. Batman could totally pass for a caveman, he’s got the grunts down, for sure.

“Still not a vampire. We found the Ghost King. The one the GIW was trying to hide in their records.”

“Well, shit.” Hal’s expression flattened, remembering the unsanctioned government branch that violated the Meta Rights act to a degree where even Amanda Waller had washed her hands of them. Bats had found evidence that they were experimenting on a child when a “source” had hacked into the base and begged them to find the child. Phantom, the hacker had claimed, who had managed to destroy the portal to the Infinite Realms

Batman had tried to boot the guy out of the system, until the hacker told them Phantom was the King of the Infinite Realms.

That got Constantine terrified, which urged Batman into a full hunting mode to track down the king. Mostly in part because Constantine said something along the lines of, “If the King dies, the Infinite Realms will wage war and decimate us. And considering they’re the realm of the dead, we’d lose so badly, even the demons won’t help us out for our bloody souls.”

Granted, he didn’t have that terrible British accent Hal attached to his voice every time the Green Lantern thought about the sad trench coat wizard, but the point still stood.

“He’s not fully conscious due to… his injuries, but the moments where he was, he reacted best to the color green.”

Hal did not want to know what kind of creepy stalker things Batman did to get that knowledge.

“Oh, great. You called me because I’m green,” he said to Batman as he floated into the med bay. “I can be green. I’m amazing at being green.”

Even with the sarcastic tone, Hal made sure to up his lantern aura, glowing a bright neon green. It wouldn’t do to help start a war if he wasn’t green enough.

Hal looked at the Ghost King, and yeah, he could see why Bats was so off his stoic face game today. Because the Ghost King looked like a teenager, and Bats is a bleeding heart and everyone knows it.

Hal waved away Batman, “Go back to Gotham and drink your true blood or whatever. You look like you’ve seen the sun too much.”

Translation: go home, you look tired.

Batman nodded, in thanks, and left to sleep (probably. Hal has never caught the man doing something so… plebeian). Hal is left playing babysitter. To an inter dimensional being that could- probably more like “would,” considering the live dissection he went through at the hands of humans- destroy their entire planet and/or universe. Another Tuesday for the Justice League.

#danny phantom #batman #dc x dp #bruce wayne #hal jordan #green lantern #being as neon green as a ghost #justice league #jla #Hal Jordan’s love language is making shitty jokes and childish insults #Danny Phantom is not having a great time #danny fenton #ghost king danny #Batman is a good batdad #Hal Jordan is the funcle #The GIW #tucker foley #who is a bamf hacker #he hacks on a pda do you know how hard that is

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weebsinstash · 5 months

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something that I think would be, truly one of the worst things about the yandere Batfamily really truly is their power to make any and every problem you've ever had completely go away in no time at all

it can be such an awful feeling to see that you struggled in vain with something that was nothing at all to someone else. You could have significant issues that have followed you all your life and have had traumatic impacting effects on you and these people could come in and sweep that all away. Student loans you've been paying off for years, if not a fraction of your lifespan, still burying you in debt? We are talking fucking decimal points on the scale of Bruce Wayne's wealth. That bad leg from an old work injury? Let's grab you one of the best doctors in Gotham, if not the entire world, fuck, we may even get you a doctor or medicine that isn't even human-made! Y'all want a magic leg? We know this chick who can speak backwards, you want a magically healed leg?

Crippling loneliness? Eternal sunshine and objectively best Robin Dick Grayson is here to brighten your entire world since he knows what it can feel like to be hurting and alone and he's literally like the heart and soul of the entire manor besides Alfred

Chronic pain, an undiagnosed disability, or maybe you're not confident in your fitness? Jason has extensive knowledge of injury recovery, physical therapy, and overall knowledge about human biology and musculature and how everything correlates

Family issues? Daddy issues? Let Resident Troubled Kid Expert Alfred Pennyworth be your new grandpa. He's dealt with more than one temperamental snappy individual, and he'll use his patience, experience, and wit to wear down all your stress and hostility. It's hard to keep being cruel to someone who's nothing but kind to you, and he has plenty of patience and delicious baked treats to hold out until you give in

Honestly just the fact most of them are so fucking young would get under my skin. You could be approaching your 30s and be sitting here at the Wayne family dinner table as their weird sister/mom/girlfriend/whatever and being all "I've just always had these struggles my entire life, I dont know what's wrong with me, I feel like I can't control how I act or feel and I hate it" and someone like Tim who depending on the source material and where you are on the timeline is a literal teenager with extensive knowledge of criminals and psychology is just over here, "oh, that? You have chronic childhood trauma, recurring resurfacing conflict related ptsd, severe abandonment issues, emotional regulation problems that are probably biological, and also you probably have autism, and there's nothing wrong with any of that :)" and then he turns to Bruce and starts talking about how his school is taking a trip abroad to Greece while you sit there processing that everyone around the table has extensively psychologically evaluated you and you probably have your own file on the Batcomputer (you do. It's excessive.)

It's just. The psychology of having all these problems you've struggled with be wiped away by someone else like it's nothing and how, that can result in making someone feel all the more worthless and helpless. Oh, Bruce was able to just make all your problems disappear? Clearly YOU weren't trying hard enough. Tim is able to suss out what's wrong with you? Well YOU'RE the dysfunctional idiot who was born wrong, and YOU were the one choosing the wrong doctors. You're watching all these young teenagers or young adults be vigilantes and travel the world and learn multiple languages and you're like. Normal guy Steve from the grocery store. You know? They take control of your life and make you feel like a side character in it, because everything you do is now attached to them, and all of them and all of their adventures are so... spectacular

And really, someone with a meaner heart, and maybe someone more blunt like, say, Damian, could perhaps come in and make some comment, "see? This is why you needed our assistance in caring for you" and what are you gonna do, NOT act like they basically fixed your entire life in less than a year's time, with the one objection of kidnapping and imprisonment? You're just over here, "um yeah, actually, I'm an adult and I can take care of myself, you don't need to TAKE CARE OF ME???" meanwhile Bruce and Alfred are exchanging knowing looks while you speak as if the old butler hadn't needed to help you call your doctor and other important urgent matters because being on the phone with strangers gave you such intense anxiety. Ok yes sure honey you are a lovely functional adult and your brain is big and beautiful and perfect 🥰 now shut up about going to live back home on your own, go play Xbox with your new brothers or go bake something with Grandpa while the world's greatest detective sits down in the Batcave using the Batcomputer to track down and "have a friendly chat" with that one childhood teacher that gave you that one really specific trauma-

#yandere batfam #yandere x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere stuff #sinprompts

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biographydivider · 1 year

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Urgent Brother Business

A little gift for @somerandomdudelmao in return for their delightful Future AU, and for blessing us with Tiny Tello. I couldn’t get the image of him bossing gigantic, adult Leo around out of my head!

“So the Krang dogs were last spotted here,” April was saying, tapping at a map she’d laid out across the War Room table. “If we come around the perimeter this way, we should be able to use these ruins as cover to...”

She looked up from the carefully plotted attack plans at the ten recruits she’d assembled to go over strategy; none of which were even looking at the map. “Seriously, guys?” April huffed. “I don’t even have to turn around to see what y’all are gawking at...”

Behind her in the hallway, the Leader of the Resistance, The Greatest Ninja of All Time and the turtle who was meant to be leading this damn meeting was crawling across the floor, barely holding in a laugh as a tiny, furious green pancake led him about by the tails of his mask.

“Well,” April deadpanned, arms folded, “I’ve turned around, and I see. Master Leonardo, you wanna get involved, here?”

“Can’t, April,” Leo said, pointing down at the turtle tot, who was scowling through his custom, handmade glasses at the world around him. “I’m double-booked. Take it up with Donnie.”

Donnie - the recent victim of a severe bout of anti-aging that seemed to be going around the base of late - growled reedily and tugged on Leo’s mask tails.

“Oop, we’re off again. See you next time, Commander. Recruits.”

“The sooner Mikey works out how to change him back,” April sighed, turning back to her map, “the better. Okay, can we at least try to focus, please?”

Leo had been basically useless to the resistance since Donnie got babified; following him around and basically doing whatever his little brother (emphasis on little) wanted him to do. That or picking Donnie up and gently squeezing him around the middle, just to hear him squeak. It was so darn cute!

“Where are we going, bud?” Leo asked, as Donnie led him through the base, his face a mask of adorable determination. “You wanna go bath? S’at it? You wanna swim? Oh, we’re going to the kitchen? I can getcha a cookie, just don’t tell Raph...oh.”

They’d stopped just in front of the counter that held the battered, dinged but somehow miraculously still functional coffee machine. It was Donnie’s pride and joy - he’d rescued it from a decimated Starbucks a month or two back, painted a Genius Brand logo on it and had made it work on salvaged coffee beans, evaporated milk and a dream.

Tiny Donnie looked up at it expectantly.

“Uh, bud?” Leo said, getting to his feet and rubbing the back of his neck guiltily. “I don’t think I can get you a coffee right now. You’re just a little guy, and I don’t know what all that caffeine will do to your sensitive lil’ tum-tum.”

Donnie looked from the machine to Leo and, assuming he simply hadn’t made himself understood, jabbed a tiny finger in the direction of the machine.

“D. Coffee’s not a good idea right now.”

Donnie grumbled and pointed all the harder.

“Nuh-uh. No way.”

The turtle tot’s eyes widened in scandalised betrayal - then narrowed as he hissed out something that was obviously a very bad word in Baby-ese.

“Woah, woah, you watch your mouth, mister.” Leo bent down to scoop up his brother. “You need a time out, buddy. Away from all this --”

An entire arsenal of purple nimpo weaponry materialised around Donnie.

“...temptation,” Leo finished weakly. “Eeuough boy.”

“Okay,” April was saying back in the War Room, having finally - finally! - wrangled back the recruits’ attention. “So this next part’s important. Escape plan; this back alley is vital, everyone memorise the co-ordinates --”

BOOM BOOM BANG POW SCREECH POP BOOM BANG BANG BANG BANG

As one, the recruits snapped their attention to the doorway, just as Leo sprinted past, shrieking in terrified laughter as Donnie - somewhere in the haze of purple light and firepower that surrounded him - followed in hot pursuit.

“Donnie no, Donnie stop it I’m sorry, Donatello stand down I’m still your commanding officer--AAAAAGH!!!”

A soft, resonant boom, followed by a cloud of purple smoke. April deflated, finally admitting defeat and rolling up her map.

“Doesn’t matter. Just...don’t worry about it, guys.”

#cass apocalyptic series #rottmnt #rise leo #rise april #rise donnie #tiny tello

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year

Text

Title: Saved And Fucked By The Moth Man.

Pairing: Mothman x F. Reader (Cryptozoology).

Word Count: 3.6k.

TW: Death/Gore, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Inhuman Anatomy, Generalized Monster-Fucking, Car Crashes, Reader's Pretty Questionable In This One, and Blood.

Based On The Results of This Poll.

You thought it could’ve been a bird, at first.

A raven, or a crow – you weren’t entirely sure. Something big and black that flew so quickly, you hadn’t been able to make out anything more specific than a dark blur and the vague impression of feathers before it was gone, vanishing into the shadows of the forest before you could realize that you'd reflexively swerved to avoid it, before you could do anything to stop yourself from crashing into the base of an oak so tall and so opposing, it wouldn’t so much as shake under the force of the collision. By the time you stumbled out of your wrecked car, the windshield shattered and the engine utterly decimated, whatever threw you off-course had been gone, and you’d been left alone on a country backroad in the middle of nowhere - bruised, sore, and miles away from the nearest city. Really, the only way your night could get worse was if—

Thunder cracked somewhere in the distance, quaking through the otherwise silent forest. You glanced up, searching for the sky through the dense canopy of overlapping branches and finding it overcast. It’d rain, pretty soon, and you’d be left lost, injured, and drenched.

Well, at least now, it really couldn’t get any worse.

You fished your phone out of your pocket and pressed your back against the most in-tact side of your car, checking if you had reception for the millionth time. Of course, you didn’t, and of course, your battery was in the single digits – too low to justify using your flashlight and risking leaving yourself alone in the dark with a dead phone and no way to call for help if you did, somehow, manage to make it to the border of civilization.

You considered crawling into what was left of the backseat of your car, turning off your phone, and hoping someone else drove down this godforsaken road in the morning, but before you could let exhaustion dampen your better judgement, you heard something in the woods rustle, the sounds of displaced leaves and cracking twigs standing out against the stillness of the woods. Somewhat hesitantly, you turned towards the disturbance, half-expecting to see wolves or coyote or, as unlikely as it was, the same over-sized bird that’d gotten you into this, but instead, much to your relief, you found a group of three men – hunters, judging by the riffles slung over their backs, the dirt caked into their shoes. None of them were wearing visibility gear, and you couldn't say it seemed like a great idea to go skulking through the forest in the middle of the night, but you were already out of your comfort zone. You couldn’t be sure what people walking around in the woods at night were supposed to look like, and at that point, you didn’t really care.

You grinned, moving to call out to them, but the oldest of the group was already addressing you, already stepping out of the forest and onto the road. “What do you think you’re doing out here, darlin’?”

Your expression faltered, but you kept your spirits up. It was fine. This was fine. You could deal with a little backwoods chauvinism until you got to a mechanic. “Got into an accident,” you said, nodding towards where your car where it bent around the oak’s trunk. “No service, either. I guess I wouldn’t be able to bother one of you kind people to call a tow truck, would I?”

There was a long, silent pause. The two younger men exchanged a glance. Again, the oldest spoke to you. “This is private property, y’know. Not a lot of folks come through this patch of woods.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know. I… I’m just in town for the convention.” One of the younger men slid his rifle off of his shoulder, taking it in both hands. The other followed in-suit. “It’s a beautiful area. If I had to get stranded, I’m glad it was here.”

“So, no relatives nearby? Nobody who’d notice if you didn’t get home in the mornin’?”

You pressed yourself against the dented metal, your smile now strained. “You know what?” You asked, forcing out an airy chuckle. “I think I’ll just walk for it. How far could the next town be, right?”

He held up a hand, signaling to the rest of his group. You heard something click, caught boots scraping against rough pavement, and watched a broad grin form across the older man’s features. “Looks like there’s gonna be a hunt tonight after all, boys.”

Your first reflex was, somewhat counterintuitively, to laugh. The sound was jarring, too loud and too stilted, cutting your lips and catching in your throat like pieces of broken glass.

Your second, triggered when one of the younger men moved to step toward you, was to run for your life.

Without thought, without hesitation, you broke into a dead-sprint. There was a holler behind you, a round of hollow clicks and earth-shaking thuds, and then, they were chasing you.

You couldn’t be sure how far you made it. It felt like you ran for seconds, or days, or years. It felt like you traveled miles, or feet, or just a few steps. Everything looked like the same repetitive blur of trees taller than your eyes could follow and roots that jutted from the earth like pikes. Their footsteps remained constant, never growing closer or farther away, always lingering somewhere just behind you, always just barely breathing down your neck. Fuck this. Fuck your car. Fuck this entire goddamn town and their stupid convention. If you made it out of this alive, you’d spend the rest of your life as far from this state as you could get. Coming here had been a stupid idea to begin with, a spontaneous trip planned at the last minute and based on a half-baked desire to see something that probably didn’t even exist. You just thought you might’ve been able to see—

Your foot caught on a half-buried stone, and you were sent crashing into the earth, your shoulder taking the brunt of the fall. You were left on the ground, cursing under your breath and holding your aching arm as you scrambled to get back on your feet, to keep moving before your would-be murderers caught up with you. You weren’t fast enough, though – you couldn’t be, not when they’d always been on your heels, not when you’d already given them an opportunity to put their quarry out of its misery. You’d barely started to push yourself up when they emerged from the tangle of trees, guns cocked and hunting knives drawn. You shrunk into yourself, threw your arms over your face in a last-ditch effort to protect yourself, despite knowing that a bullet would tear through your skin like paper, despite being able to picture your body lying lifeless on the forest floor, bleeding out in the dirt like a wild animal. The last thing you saw was the oldest man, raising his riffle and aiming towards your chest before you shut your eyes.

You heard a shot, sudden and deafening, but the impact never came.

You felt something whip past you. There was a scream, wordless and torn and cut short with a ragged screech and a wet, visceral sound – like flesh being carved open, like teeth tearing into raw meat. It was all you could do to curl into yourself, sinking into your self-made shelter as the forest descended into the sounds of carnage, only falling silent when there was nothing left to cut down. Even then, it took you long, agonizing seconds to open your eyes, to take in the gore splattered across the grass and dirt, the guns that’d been bent and twisted into shapes they weren’t meant to hold. A disembodied leg laid to your side, the torso it’d been ripped from impaled on a branch nearly twenty feet off of the ground. Clumps of torn muscle and split entrails shined reddish-silver in the limited moonlight, but you could only focus on the gore for so long.

Only a few yards away, a man stood in front of you. Only, it wasn’t a man, not really, not when you looked beyond its – his? hers? theirs? – vaguely humanoid form. Its long legs and lanky arms were coated in a thin layer of grey, shaggy fur that grew shorter and finer over its defined chest. You could make out curved talons extending from its massive hands, a pair of ringed antennae curled back along its scalp, a pair of tattered wings folded against its back. Its head might’ve been the strangest part of its anatomy; low and stooped, too round to resemble anything human and too featureless inspire anything but an uncanny sense that you weren’t supposed to be here. From a distance, the only thing you could really make out was its eyes. They were gigantic, nearly spherical – orbs of pure crimson that seemed to glow in the dim light.

Before you could stop yourself, your attention drifted downward, to the space between its legs. It took you an embarrassingly long moment to recognize what you were looking at – the shaft absent of all veins or definition beyond a perfect spiral ridge that coiled from the base to the flushed, lilac-shaded head. The tip was tapered, ending in a sharp slant and budding with something white and thick. The entire thing looked almost painfully erect, inflating it to a size that, even when compared to the rest of its massive body, sparked a raw, preservationist kind of terror inside of you. Fear took root in the pit of your stomach, sprouting up and into the hollow of your chest, making it difficult to breathe, to resist the urge to curl back into yourself and never come out.

Second to only your fear, just as pervasive and twice as instinctual, was your arousal.

It would’ve been impossible to read its nonexistent expression, but as it shifted its weight, turning to face you, you could’ve sworn the creature was looking at you with as much interest as you held for it. Its scarlet eyes were wide and unfaltering, its gaze only growing more intense as it took a step in your direction, then another, approaching you in slow, tense increments. Despite its stiffness, it didn’t seem awkward or nervous, let alone afraid of you. If anything, it seemed like it was trying not to scare you, even if you couldn’t say there was much weight behind the gesture when you were sitting among the viscera of its last three victims. Still, you held your ground, not daring to so much as blink until it was standing in front of you.

From a distance, it’d been inhumanly tall. Now that it was close enough to touch, it seemed downright monstrous.

With jerky, unpracticed movements, it reached down, towards you. You waited for a beat, then another, and when it failed to pull away or bury its talons in your chest, you hesitantly placed your hand in its palm, a knot forming in the back of your throat as its claws folded and everything up to your wrist was completely encompassed. With a sharp tug, it pulled you to your feet and held steady you when your legs, still shaking, proved too weak to hold your weight. You let out a fleeting, nervous laugh, and in response, it chittered – the sound high-pitched and tittering. It was cute, in the way seeing a lion play with a ball of yarn would’ve been cute. You were still eminently aware that the creature in front of you could end your life, but still.

“Hey,” you managed, eventually, unable to think of anything else to say. You didn’t even know if it could understand you, but you weren’t sure what else to do. “Did you… did you save me?”

Another round of chittering, a slight glimmer in its otherwise blank stare. You smiled. “Thank you, I— I’m not from around here, and I didn’t know I’d have to look out for people like that.” You bowed your head, attempting to let your eyes fall to the ground, but rather, your eyes found its cock again, pressed against its abdomen and leaking. The adrenaline that’d coursed through your veins a few minutes ago was already starting to fade, making room for something else, something closer to an anxious sort of zeal. Something that made you want to do something less than advisable.

Slowly, doing what little you could to stop your hands from shaking, you reached out, your fingertips barely brushing against its soft cheek. It nuzzled into your touch, earning a small smile, a trickle of a laugh. “Poor thing,” you mumbled, almost comforted by the fact that it couldn’t respond, couldn’t mock your poor-excuse for a seductively saccharine tone. “Do you need help with that?”

You saw its talon’s twitch, its wings flutter almost imperceptibly against its back. You weren’t aware that you were moving, not until your back was pressed against the rough bark of the nearest oak, until you felt the clawed hand that it’d wrapped around your waist drop to your hip, then your thigh. The tips of its curved talons scraped against your skin as it ran its claws from your waist to your knee, cutting through the delicate fabric of your shorts and panties and discarding the material without a second thought. The open air was cold against your exposed skin, but something quickly replaced it – a gentle, oppressive warmth that seemed to sap the chill from your skin. Your legs were thrown over its shoulders, held in place by its massive hands as it buried its face between your thighs. You barely had time to straighten your back, to brace yourself before—

Oh.

It was more tongue-like than you’d expected.

Not to say that it was a tongue – you weren’t really sure what you should call it. Long, split at the tip, just rough enough to earn a breathy gasp, a new wave of heat rushing from your core to your head, obscuring your few remaining rational thoughts with a shimmering haze. Its tongue (tendril? proboscis?) ran over the length of your exposed slit, leaving a trail of thick, viscous saliva dripping down the inside of your thighs before jerking its head upward and finding your clit, the tip of its tongue circling the sensitive bundle of nerves as soon as it recognized the airy sounds now falling steadily from your lips for the unabashed moans they were. It was almost experimental, the way it bent and curled its tongue, clearly working towards a quickly approaching goal but constantly looking for a way to get there that much faster, to make your legs twitch that much harder, to force the coil writhing violently in the pit of your stomach wind up that much tighter.

It was all you could do to arch your back against the oak’s trunk and clench your eyes shut, your hands falling to the softened ridge between its curved antennae. Only half-consciously, your attention dominated by the feeling of its coarse tongue swirling over your clit, you raked your fingers through its cropped fur, doing what you could to show the creature your appreciation, your gratitude. You tried to be gentle, but the curling tips of its tongue slipped into your tight entrance and the world burnt white, your body jerking forward and your nails biting into its scalp. There was a deep, guttural sound from somewhere deep in its chest, and its hands rose to your hips, claws scrapping lightly against your skin as its tongue fucked into you. It was thin, but long and so flexible – twisting and coiling against the sensitive walls of your cunt, never repeating the same blissful pattern of thrusts and thrashes more than once. You found yourself grinding into its mouth, seeking out whatever friction you could with the clumsy movements of your hips. The pressure, the weight, the sensation – it was more than you could handle. You could already feel it, a certain tightness in your chest, a tension in your core that—

Without warning, without satisfaction, it pulled away from you, leaving you empty and quickly coming down from a high that you never quite reached. You let out a long whine, more desperate than disappointed, and as if to apologize, the creature nuzzled against the inside of your thigh, chirping softly. Thankfully, your reprieve was a short one. With its hands still on your hips, your body still held aloft by its inhuman strength, you were dragged away from the oak and into its chest as it stood to its full height. Your chest was slotted against the creature’s, the pointed head of its cock pressed flush to your dripping cunt. Its wings fanned out, its hips rolling against yours, and a sharp, aching moan was drawn from your lips as it thrust into you, finally filling you to the brim.

For a long moment, it was all you could do to bury your face in its chest and try to put together a coherent thought. Only half of its length was inside of you, and yet, you could practically feel it pressing into your core, rubbing against the walls of your cunt, the cork-screw ridge that ran from the tip to the base threatening to split you open. It didn’t, though, and even if it had, you couldn’t be sure you would’ve cared. Before the creature could even begin to move, to fuck into you from below, you were grinding against it, mindlessly and desperately trying to chase that fullness, that peak. It didn’t take long for the creature to answer your fervor. There was a raised notch just above the base of its cock, a notch that caught on your clit as it beat into you with heavy, rough strokes. A talon was dragged down the back of your top, tearing the fabric away and allowing its tongue to lave over your chest. All of its gentleness, all of its restraint was thrown aside as its claws dug into your hips, cutting through skin and tinting your pleasure with an intensity that wouldn’t have been possible without a drop of pain.

A scream, wild and euphoric, was torn from your throat, and you wrapped your legs around its waist, dragging your own nails over its back as you fought to keep some part of yourself grounded. Even that was an effort made in vain. You heard its wings shift, felt the air rush against your skin, and suddenly, you were breaking through the canopy – speared on the creature’s cock mid-air, being fucked against the backdrop of the dark, velveteen sky. The shock, the adrenaline, the thrill was enough to leave you clenching around the creature’s cock, your vision burning white as you came undone. You might’ve been able to come down, to melt back into its thrusts and its affection, if something hadn’t clicked in its chest, if its wings hadn’t started to move a little faster, if something hadn’t happened and the creature hadn’t started to emit a sort of reverberating droll – the sort throbbing vibration that only seemed to make the friction against your clit, the feeling of it stretching you open more perfect. You couldn’t be sure how long you stayed in that hazy, half-conscious state – limp and moaning in the arms of a monster, always either spilling over your high or riding out the aftershocks. It only came to a climax – a real climax – when the creature stiffened against you, its cock twitching violently inside of your cunt. It pulled you as close as it possibly could and, with one last wave of pulsing reverberation, released something thick inside of you – viscous and warm and translucent. Like sap. Like nectar.

Light-headed and blissed-out, you buried your face in its chest as it began to descend, the sound of your giddy laughter muffled by its fur. This time, when it pulled away from you with an apologetic chirp, you didn’t complain, only pressing one more lingering kiss into the curve of its shoulder and letting it draw back. Your legs were too weak to hold your weight, so you braced yourself against the nearest oak as the creature disappeared into the dark of the forest, returning a few moments later with a bundle of bloody fabric in its arms. A shirt – a little torn but mostly in one piece, taken from one of the hunters’ corpses, clearly meant to replace your own ruined clothes. You smiled as you slipped it over your head. It was a size too big, and it was sure to raise a few questions, but it would do until you could find help. Whatever ‘help’ meant, at that point.

When you were finished, the creature took you up again; wrapping an arm around your waist and catching you under your knees, pulling you against its broad chest. This time, as it soared over the forest, you were able to admire view, the star-lit sky and sprawling woodland before it landed where the forest had started to thin and give way to the outskirts of a small town. Slowly, carefully, it lowered you to the ground, keeping you upright when your unsteady balance wavered. You laughed and, for longer than a moment, you held its unblinking gaze, Eventually, your hands fell into its claws, your smile turning bitter-sweet and sentimental. “Will I ever see you again?”

There was a slight chittering, a gentle squeeze to your hand. You felt its tongue against your cheek and let your eyes fall shut. By the time you could bring yourself to open them again, Mothman – because it was Mothman, you could only deny it for so long – was gone, barely a silhouette in the distance. You heard the crack of thunder, and watched it fly away as the sky broke open and rain spilled out.

The next day, you would learn that a bridge about twenty miles outside of the city the creature left you in had collapsed the night before, killing hundreds.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere prompts #yandere monster #monster x reader #monster fucking #yandere mothman #mothman x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months

Note

Please please please, vox blowjob hesdcanons? like how he likes his dick suckedddd pleaseeee

Vox x Reader Headcanons: Fellatio Fantasy

NSFW WARNING! MINORS DNI!

A/N: Omg I forgot this one had just been sitting in my inbox ahdosbdjsjdh- I literally had to figure out how to title this in such a way where it wasn't so obviously explicit slang WAHAHAHAHA- Also I hope you enjoy this anon! It's probably not my best work considering I'm still new to writing smut but I gave it a shot! I also have no idea if this is short or not compared to other headcanon lists but this is kinda just an idea vomit drabble from me.

Given how Vox is the type that loves having power over others- it's not unexpected that he'd immediately get worked up at the idea of you on your knees sucking him off.

I'd reckon that while he definitely loves seeing your fucked out expression after a good romp, he also likes working up to that point starting with you worshipping his dick with your mouth.

Cuz as much as this man loves to see you squirm from him decimating you with his tongue, he also likes seeing you all over the place simply because you couldn't get enough of a taste of him.

Bonus points if you're the chatty kind, this is a very sexual way he gets you to literally shut up.

"It's rude to talk with your mouth full darling~"

Let's not even begin to mention just how sneaky he'd be with you because of this.

Under the table during one of his broadcasts, in his office, etc.

This man has a high sex-drive, so you can bet his cock is going to be between your lips often-

Yes either or, top or bottom, you're welcome male and female readers!

Vox would probably always have one hand tangled in your hair while you give him head.

Just so he can control the pace.

Or completely facefuck you to ruin.

He's quite well endowed with a long 9 inches and an average girth, so it's ridiculously ambitious to try and take him all in one go the first time around.

This guy is actually long enough to end up down your throat, so pray to god your gag reflex doesn't act up because he will fuck your throat sore if you let him.

Not to mention just the names he'd call you when you're busy being so cockdrunk with his dick in your mouth.

"You're such a good slut~ taking all of me in your mouth~"

Absolutely toy with the head of his member with your tongue, it would drive him bonkers.

I also think because Vox is mostly machine/artificial, it's not entirely out there to say he'd probably have the same mouth feel as an obnoxiously long rubber toy.

That and his cum would probably taste like blue raspberry pop rocks because of the electric tingles thanks to his powers.

Either way, at least whether he finishes on your mouth or face-

It'll be one sight to see since his jizz is bright blue too.

Yes he takes pictures when he's done with you, though it's only for his personal use.

Though if you are in the mood and he's a bit too busy to actually notice at the moment-

Getting on your knees and adopting a brutally fast pace with your mouth will have this man dialed up on your ass in minutes.

Like his arousal would literally shoot sky high seeing you just between his legs pleasuring him.

Another fun scenario being you wake him up with a surprise blowjob.

This man will absolutely go to town on you if that happens.

And your jaw would definitely not be the only thing sore afterwards.

Honorable mentions also being the fact he'd be immediately rearing to go again if you lick your lips and open your mouth to show him you'd swallowed his load.

All in all, I think Vox would definitely love receiving oral as much as he gives it.

Just that you've got to be really careful with how much you let him get away with whenever you give him head.

Because if you let this man get away with it-

Not even the best throat lozenges are going to be of any help for a while.

#vox x reader #vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox smut

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petite-phthora · 1 year

Text

Of course he’s a fucking space nerd

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 3]

<< Prev | Next >>

Part 1

Ao3

---

Something’s wrong with the Pit.

It takes Jason way too long to notice it.

The Pit’s never really been silent, just a haze of anger that’s always simmering in the back of his mind. And while it’s still not entirely gone, Jason already being convinced that it will never truly go away, something is still… off about it.

Instead of the usual all-consuming rage the Pit makes him feel, mainly directed at the Joker, it feels… calmer. More at peace. Almost…

Content.

While the rage itself is still there, it’s more muted. Like it’s being drowned out by something else. Something that feels like… praise? reverence? admiration?

Jason is unsure what exactly it is that the Pit is making him experience. But he does know who it’s aimed at: the mysterious twink whose murder he still has to cover up.

And that brings Jason back to the corpse in front of him.

If the slightly pointed ears and small fangs the guy possessed hadn’t already pointed towards his hero the dude being a meta of some kind, then the decimation of the Joker with a single punch certainly did it.

And damn, that punch was kinda hot.

Jason shakes his head. If he wants to help the meta dude keep people off his back about the murder, however accidental it might have been and despite the corpse’s identity, then he’s gonna have to get rid of the body first.

And he should probably do something about any cam footage there might be of the incident.

With any luck, the Joker’s escape hasn’t been noticed and announced yet. That should make it easier to cover everything up. Before he does anything though, Jason pauses as he realizes the opportunity he has.

He takes off his helmet, takes out his phone, and crouches down by the corpse.

He takes a selfie.

Jason looks at the picture he took, noting that while he’s not really a keepsakes kinda guy, this one’s definitely gonna be framed, before putting his phone away again. Right, it’s time for him to clean up a clown corpse.

After that, he has to find out who his knight in dirty NASA shirt was.

If not for the promised date, that he is so taking the guy on, then at least to figure out what’s happening with the Pit.

---

After getting rid of the body, Jason’s next point on the agenda is research.

All he has on the guy so far is a physical description, a possible meta status, and the information that he has a scholarship at Gotham University.

Jason starts with hacking into the cams in the street where the incident took place. To his surprise, all the cam footage in that area around the time of the incident is corrupted. The visual files are overtaken by static and the audio files aren’t any better.

Huh, convenient.

Well, this is just some more proof for Jason’s meta theory. Though it does mean he can’t use the files to run any facial recognition. Oh, well. He’ll just have to hack into Gotham U’s systems then.

Even though the files are pretty useless, Jason makes sure to wipe them all anyway. Just to be safe.

He also makes sure to wipe his helmet’s footage. Despite how corrupted it is, it’s better to be safe than sorry with the Bats. He’s already lucky Babs hadn’t yet decided to hack into his helmet cam yet that night.

Next, he hacks his way into the Gotham U. systems. He manages to limit his search by only looking for first-year scholarship students and after a while Jason’s pretty sure he found the right guy, judging by the school picture.

Mystery twink’s name is Daniel Fenton. 20 years old, uses he/him pronouns. No registered meta status. His address was recently updated to Gotham City, the old address being a city named Amity Park in Illinois.

He took a gap year after high school and recently won a scholarship at Gotham U. He’s majoring in aerospace engineering and minoring in both astronomy and astrophysics.

Holy shit, he’s a fucking space nerd.

...

Has the Gotham Observatory reopened yet? That might be a good place to take him to while on their date after they’ve had dinner.

Interestingly enough, his ICE contact isn’t a parent or guardian but instead, it’s his older sister. One Jasmine Fenton, who has recently gained a doctorate in psychology, he finds after looking her up as well.

A quick search on Amity Park doesn’t gain him much. Though, after some digging he manages to run into a firewall. A pretty big firewall. That’s protecting anything but the barest of mentions of the city.

Nope, he’s not gonna be dealing with that shit.

Despite not being able to get more on Amity Park itself, Jason does manage to find some social media accounts of some of the city’s residents. One of them being Daniel’s.

But when he tries to take a look at any of the posts, all he gets are errors and endless loading screens. The firewall that’s protecting Amity Park also seems to be protecting all of its residents. Even former residents.

Right. That’s enough of that for today.

One thing Jason does note is that the twink’s preferred name is probably Danny, judging by the account bio.

At this point, Jason’s stuck on whether or not he should try his luck by going to Babs or Tim to see if they can find out more about Danny.

While they might be able to get through his hometown’s firewall, it would be hard to convince either of them to keep any information they find from the Bats if they knew why exactly Jason had taken an interest in the guy in the first place.

Whether that reason was because of the clown murder, the weird happenings with the Pit, or because Jason really wants to take the cute twink out on a date.

Though he could potentially try to bribe Replacement to do it for him, no questions asked, if he brought him some of that ‘Deathwish’ coffee for his services…

But, knowing him, the nosy fucker would probably ask questions anyway, stick his nose into Jason’s business, where it really doesn’t belong, and then proceed to tell the Bats regardless of any threats Jason would have sent his way.

However, on the other hand, Jason’s pretty sure Replacement still owes him a favor.

Hmmm… He’ll keep it in mind as a plan B.

He already managed to gather enough information to take Danny out on that date anyway.

---

While in the line to get some flowers for Danny, Jason decides to text the Bats group chat a vague message on how he won’t be patrolling Crime Alley tonight.

He’d rather not be dealing with panicked Bats crashing his date because they thought something was wrong because he hadn’t been seen patrolling, nor checked in with any of them. Or worse, nosy Bats stalking him and his date to see if he’s ‘worthy’ or some shit.

And if Jason texted them right after the announcement of the Joker being gone from Arkham was finally made?

Well, then that’s their problem, Jason resolutely decides, already reveling in the chaos as he mutes the chat and turns his phone off for good measure.

After paying for the flowers, and trying not to intimidate the shopkeeper because he’s in his Red Hood gear, Jason makes his way back to his motorcycle outside. After double-checking Danny’s address, he takes off.

Time to take the twink out on a date.

#dp x dc #dp x dc fic #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #jason after seeing dannys nasa shirt and what he's studying: of course i fell for a fucking space nerd #and also #the news: the joker has escapaed arkham again!!!#jason in the batfam gc: due to personal reasons i will not be patrolling crime alley tonight #jason: dont come after me #jason: *mutes gc and turns off phone*#the batfam: fuck.#dead on main #dead on main ship

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erinthesails · 7 months

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god. the botched first time together is such a good way to play it. like im personally in hell and praying for a swift death of course, but i feel like.

the entire point of the show is not getting things right the first time. it's about trying again and again and realizing that it's never too late to find yourself, learn more about yourself, grow and change and discover things that are important to you. we've been talking about this all week with the differences between the season 1 "you wear fine things well" scene and this one, where the first time everything is picture perfect but doesn't go how they want, while the second one is real, grounded, imperfect, but honest. their first kiss being, again, when they were in totally different places, and not able to really connect in the way they needed to, even if it was grounded on the romantic notion of running away together (and maybe even BECAUSE the whole premise of that first kiss was so romantic--that's a lot of pressure!)

i think we're going to get something similar with them sleeping together. like, this first time was passionate, intense, romantic, etc. but notice, we don't see a genuine smile from ed the whole time. he's swept up in the moment, he wants stede, i dont think it's an issue of consent, but he KNOWS that this isn't right. that they're STILL in different emotional places and probably shouldn't be doing this here, now.

there's so much emphasis placed on firsts, just generally, in life. your first kiss, your first love, your first time having sex...getting it not just right, but perfect, ideal, the first time is so fucking important in western culture and the very premise of this show refuses to give that impulse to perfection validity. this is a show about two middle aged men who have had loves, marriages, lives, careers, families, whole histories before they met each other. two men who have, to various degrees, settled with the "first" things that came along to them in life because not to do so was a sign of failure. and all it got them was unhappiness and decimated senses of self worth

i actually really like that their first time together is the same way. i think it's setting us up for a second time that blows the doors off the first, and a lifetime of even better as they listen and learn and understand each other better. nothing ever ever has to be perfect the first time, but that doesn't mean it isn't worth it to try again and again til you get it right!!! and they each know that the other person is worth it! worth fighting for and trying again for! i think they both just need to learn that they themselves are worth it too

#ofmd 2 #our flag means death #our flag means death meta #i didnt mean for this to be a whole ass thing i just couldnt stop thinking about......the parallels.....the themes........#m

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mamawasatesttube · 4 months

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first, I just wanna say the Kon agonies are making me lose my freaking mind!!!! oh my GOD I’m devouring your writing every single time!!!

second, for my actual ask!! I was wondering how you think timkon’s proposal would be like? If you haven’t already told us, I feel like you have but I’m not sure!

thank you thank you!! i love kon and his issues. he has so many of them. (shameless plug for the kon agonies here again <3)

i love to think abt timkon proposal ideas. many possible ways it could go but i FIRMLY believe the one way it Can't go is "traditionally perfect and cliché and romantic". it has to go sideways at least a little. they're both weirdos with an insane general lifestyle. i have several ideas that i think are all really fun, but the baseline is just that there's no way it goes off without a hitch. therefore, i present:

how DO tim and kon get engaged? (one possibility!)

on a very casual chill date night in, while sharing a pizza while hanging out on the couch in their pajamas and watching star trek, they agree they want to get married. they also both agree it'll still be fun to do a proposal.

yeah each of them is now going "hehehe. i'm gonna surprise him with a nice date and i'll romance him as he deserves and then ask him to marry me and he will be swept off his feet!!!"

so. you know. now it's a race.

one weekend, kon takes tim on a lovely romantic date. by the point kon's got him sitting in his lap way up in the sky, twirling wispy clouds around them both into hearts while he points up at stars way overhead, tim is INCREDIBLY suspicious of what's coming (a proposal) and is SO mad because he was going to propose NEXT WEEKEND.

kon's sappy speech gets interrupted by toyman attacking metropolis and tim is like. oh thank god. i mean uhh... wow... FUCK toyman! i'm SO mad about this! meanwhile kon pouts the entire time he's decimating a small army of toy soldiers with real guns. tim finds this adorable.

kon almost still pops the question anyway, but his vanity stops him. his hair got a little singed by a giant firebomb and he's upset about it. he can't propose like this.

next weekend, tim takes kon on a lovely romantic date. when he goes down on one knee in front of a park fountain under a canopy of string lights (very romantic, kon deserves it), kon starts HOLLERING and pulls his ring box out like NO!!! I DID SO GOOD LAST WEEK IM PROPOSING TO YOU!!!!!

tim: NOT IF I GET THERE FIRST. CONNER KENT YOURE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE—

kon: YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!! TIMOTHY JACKSON DRAKE YOURE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE AND IM GONNA PUNT YOU INTO THIS FOUNTAIN IF YOU DONT LET ME PROPOSE TO YOU FIRST—

tim, yelling over him: —AND I'D BE HONORED TO SPEND THE REST OF MY LIFE WITH YOU—

kon tackles him.

they both fall into the fountain.

they both have to hunt for their ring boxes in the fountain.

passerby are staring.

they are in their nice fancy date clothes. on their hands and knees. crawling around in a big ol park fountain. it's cold. they're a mess. please send help

kon finds his ring box first (tim swears up and down that he cheated by ttking tim's box away every time he almost grabbed it) and tackles tim a second time, sits on him in the fountain, and grabs his face.

tim licks him. kon is, shockingly, undeterred.

"TIM," he says, and squishes tim's cheeks. "you're a STUBBORN ASSHOLE. WILL YOU MARRY ME?"

"I'M a stubborn asshole?!" tim demands. it's muffled because his cheeks are still very squished. "god, obviously yes, but you're the jackass, i planned tonight out so well and you hijacked it—"

kon kisses him. tim kisses him back.

tim's ring box mysteriously happens to brush his fingers then. very convenient, thank you, kon.

they exchange rings still sitting there in the cold water under all the lights. tim's teeth are starting to chatter.

passerby are still staring.

they don't care. they're engaged!

and that's the story of how tim drake gets mild hypothermia and kon fusses and frets over him for the rest of the weekend—uhhh I MEAN, the story of how tim and kon get engaged. yippee!!

#answers #rockstar-robin #timkon #i also think its very easy for ti to be a super lowkey casual affair #and i ALSO love the idea of a world-ending cataclysmic space battle for the pirates of the caribbean style proposal/wedding #but i think the comedy zone is just really fun. i like it when theyre silly #tim #kon #rambles

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 8 months

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Words: 3,704 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: pre-Alexandria Warnings: descriptions of blood and gore, language, angssstt, frightening scenarios Summary: Y/N and Daryl take a closer look at the elk kill they located. A/N: This is part of a series! Find all the previous parts on the Master List! Previous Chapter

Daryl followed silently behind you and the approach was cautious and measured. Your eyes were fixed ahead on the blur of red in the snow, the same place the ravens had risen from. As you got closer, your heart began to pound. Any elk kill by native wildlife was messy, but you could see even at a distance that this was entirely something else. The carcass finally came into focus and a swell of nausea rose in your stomach. Your feet continued to carry you closer as if of their own volition. They finally stopped when the toes of your boots reached the edge of the crimson-stained snow. Daryl stood slightly behind you, staring at the residual violence of the scene.

There was hardly anything left but puddles of clotted blood mixed with melted snow. It had been a large bull, a majestic set of antlers still attached to the head, but was now reduced to scraggly tufts of hair and nearly clean bones. The area surrounding the bull was messy with gore and blood. The ravens had been feeding on scarce scraps and picking at the little bit of flesh that was left behind. Your eyes roamed over the scene as your stomach turned again.

Daryl broke the thick silence. “This ain’t—this ain’t somethin’ natural, is it? This wasn’t wolves… or a bear?” He didn’t really need you to answer, but you shook your head.

“No,” you said, moving over and bending to look at a particular pattern of blood in the snow. You stood up abruptly and drew in a shaky breath.

“What?” Daryl asked, still not fully understanding the gravity of what the two of you had just stumbled upon.

You gulped down the sick feeling welling up in your throat and nodded at the spray you’d just examined. “This wasn’t scavenged by infected,” you said, turning to look at him. He still had a questioning look on his face. “I mean—this elk wasn’t dead when they found it. That’s an arterial spray. Something that only happens if the heart is still pumping.”

Daryl’s eyes drifted down to the blood in the snow and you watched his face darken. “How fast can—?”

“Forty miles per hour,” you interrupted him. “An elk can run forty miles per hour.” Your eyes drifted over the terrain. “They probably couldn’t hit that in here with all the trees and terrain, but still… They’re fast. And a big bull like this would have fought with his antlers, even if it was sick or weak or something. But it must have been completely overwhelmed…” You sighed, staring again at the complete decimation of the carcass. Nothing was left behind; no fat, no organs, no skin… nothing but hair and bone. “Shit,” you swore, squeezing your eyes shut against the horrific scene.

Daryl walked around it, studying the muddle of tracks in the snow. He began to follow a trampled path smeared with blood leading away from the carcass, crossbow in hand. “Hey—Y/N…”

You heard the apprehension in his voice as plainly as the whine of an emergency siren. “Hmm?” You hurried around to the other side and met him. He nodded ahead into the trees.

“There’s a path that goes off this way,” he drawled, though he didn’t need to point it out. The smears of blood and the trampled and disturbed snow was plain.

Behind you the dogs seemed on edge, sniffing at the carcass but staying alert and pacing the perimeter. You were sure they could smell that the place had been swarmed with infected. You whistled to them softly and they came to your sides. This time, Daryl let you go ahead as he scrutinized the surroundings, adjusting his grip on his bow, his fingers flexing a bit anxiously. His eyes swept behind, left, right, in front, and repeated.

The path ahead wove through the trees and you could feel your body tensing with each step. Perhaps one of your senses already knew what was coming. The anticipation had you feeling sick.

When the trees began to open up again ahead, your eyes landed on another crimson mass in the snow. Your feet stopped on their own. Your hand went to the hilt of your knife and you pulled in a long, nervous breath. Daryl heard it.

“What is it?” Daryl’s voice from behind you.

“Another kill,” you said. “Come on.”

You pushed forward again, but more slowly, and you kept your footsteps in the snow as silent as possible. It was slippery where the horde had been, the snow compacting into ice that was spotted pink and red. There was another, larger clearing ahead and it slowly came into view. Behind you, Daryl was so concerned about watching the rear and flanks that he almost bumped into you when you stopped abruptly at the edge of the meadow. The next thing he was aware of was the rapid, agitated sound of your breathing.

“No—oh my God,” you breathed out, more to yourself or maybe to the ether than to him.

Daryl stepped around you and looked ahead, getting his first glimpse of what had you so frozen and rigid. Bathed in the winter light was a meadow that looked like a warzone. The snow was stained with many ponds of blood and gore and among them were endless elk carcasses nearly picked clean. The bodies of a few infected lay motionless in the snow, perhaps killed during some struggle with a bull. The mountain air carried the sickening tang of copper and the stink of decomposition, masking the usual fresh and invigorating scent of pine.

“Holy fuck,” you muttered, your eyes moving frantically over the scene. “Holy fucking shit.”

Daryl could hear and sense your panic. The dogs could too; they were on either side of you and stayed still, ears alert and noses sniffing furiously in the air. Bear seemed to be scanning the surroundings just as Daryl had been.

Daryl took one further step out into the clearing and studied the tree line. Carcasses everywhere. Carcasses as far as he could see. Hundreds. He adjusted his grip on his bow. “We should leave,” he said, his blue eyes frantic as he watched for the dead. He finally glanced back at you over his shoulder when you didn’t respond.

Your eyes were wide and glassy and all color seemed to have drained from your face.

“Y/N?” He walked over and you finally looked at him. His expression was grim, his mouth tight and concerned.

“We—we hunted bulls from this herd—me and my dad,” you stammered. “Every fall since I was ten. There—how could—”

Daryl gulped, for the first time realizing there was a barely suppressed feeling of panic in the pit of his stomach. “’M sorry,” he murmured. “But we can’t stay here. We gotta go.”

You didn’t seem to register what he’d said. Your eyes drifted back to the gruesome, brutal scene over his shoulder. A tear broke out onto your cheek.

Daryl touched you lightly, sweeping a finger under your chin and along your jaw so you’d meet his eyes. “Y/N, we have to get outta here. This just happened this mornin’. Whatever horde did this is probably still around and we dun wanna be caught by surprise out here. We gotta go. ‘M sorry…”

Finally, you nodded and seemed to come back to yourself some. A swell of nausea rose in your stomach and bubbled nearly to your throat. Sick. You felt horribly sick. “Yeah,” you breathed. “Yeah. You’re right. Come on.” You turned away and started back down the trampled path you’d come in on, hurrying to get away from the smell of death and the brutality that had been done in that place.

_ _ _ _ _ _

When you and Daryl arrived back at the cabin, the tense silence that had nearly suffocated both of you the entire journey home remained. Unlike after the view of the valley, Daryl was determined to talk with you about what you’d just discovered. After seeing the massacre of the elk herd, he realized the issues of the infected and the new terrifying runners were even more pressing than either you or he first realized. The snares being full were a warning, the dead at the cabin during your recovery were a warning, and the infected popping out of the snow were warnings—more dead than you thought were already up the mountain.

You were hanging up your wet winter gear as Daryl stood on the rug in front of the fire. He gulped, wringing his hands anxiously but his voice finally cut through the silence. “Y/N…” he drawled gently.

You turned, but it took a long moment before you lifted your eyes to him.

“I think—we should talk ‘bout—”

You sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of your nose. “I don’t want to talk about it…”

He took two hesitant steps toward you. “I know. But we gotta.”

“I just need a little time, okay?” You were still trying to fully process what you’d seen and what it meant.

But Daryl wasn’t going to give up. This was dangerous and urgent. “We might not have time,” he said, his voice more insistent. “It woulda taken… hundreds and hundreds of infected to do what they did to that herd—”

“I know. I saw it.” There was a rising edge in your voice now, but Daryl plunged ahead despite it.

He crossed the room to stand in front of you and his voice was almost pleading. He wanted to reach out and touch you, but your body language was guarded and closed off. “Y/N, please listen to me. Ya can’t stay here. With how many of them have already made it up the mountain—shit could go real fuckin’ bad real fuckin’ fast up here now. A horde like that? Especially with those runners? They could tear the cabin apart.”

“You think I don’t know that? I was there too, Daryl. It was my idea to go to the lookout. I saw the fucking valley! I saw the—the elk—what they—” you stopped, swallowing another swell of nausea.

Daryl went rigid for a moment at the sharpness in your voice but softened again when he saw the expression on your face. Your eyes were wide, almost wild and desperate, and they were glassy. “We can’t stay,” he said again softly,

“I know what—I know what it all means, okay?” you said more quietly. “And right now, that feels like losing the last fucking thing I have from any bit of my old life.” Your voice broke as you said those last words and Daryl’s heart ached.

“I get that. I do, and ‘m sorry but—we gotta make this decision now and get the hell out before we can’t.” He finally reached for your hands and took them in his. “Come with me. We’ll load up more supplies, get the dogs, and we’ll head out, go back home—to my home. Please.. I made it before. We can make it back there together.”

Your eyes were searching his face, your expression unreadable.

“Look, I know it ain’t the easy way but—”

You abruptly pulled your hands from his and took a step back, looking at him with a furrowed brow. “Easy? Easy? Is that what you think it’s been like up here? You think surviving here alone has been easy?” Your eyes were wide as you stared back at him, flitting between his. “You think staying here, surrounded by the ghosts of my dead fucking family, was easy? You think surviving alone in this world as a woman was easy? Early on, three men broke into the cabin and tried to abduct me, take me somewhere. I killed them. You think that was easy? Groups have moved through here when the weather is good, found me, found this place and tried to take it or do worse. I’ve had to do shit to survive that no one should have to do. You have any idea how many times I just wanted to give up?”

“No—that ain’t what I—” But you were already walking away. “Y/N, that ain’t—I didn’t mean—” He was desperate to get you to look at him. You had to know that wasn’t what he’d meant. In the moment, all you wanted to do was not think. The dogs trotted behind you, tails down and ears pinned, as you made your way to your bedroom door. “Y/N—”

“None of this has ever been easy,” you said, turning back to glance at Daryl. “None of it. And neither is this shit.” Daryl flinched at the slam of the door behind you.

“Fuck,” Daryl swore, angry at himself and had how you wouldn’t just stop for one second and listen. How could he have chosen his words so poorly? He found himself lashing out at the nearest thing which happened to be a stack of books and old magazines. His hand flicked out at them and they toppled to the floor in a jumbled heap. He rubbed a hand over his face and paced the length of the room, consumed by a jittery, anxious energy. His eyes kept going to the closed door of your bedroom.

Inside, you found yourself shaking as you walked to your bed and collapsed onto the edge in a seated position. Bear gave a soft whine and laid down at your feet. Strider ambled over and rested his chin on your leg, looking up at you with big, chocolate brown eyes. You stroked his head a few times before collapsing backwards onto your bed, your legs still dangling off the side.

It felt like there was a weigth on your chest, pressing on your lungs.

Leave? How could leave? But you had to leave.

Your mind careened between these two thoughts endlessly.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl looked away from the frosted window where night had fallen and his eyes landed back on your door. He hadn’t heard a sound since you’d shut it and him out. He chewed on his bottom lip and climbed to his feet, restacking the books he’d shoved off the coffee table in his anger. He hadn’t managed a fucking thing since the argument. He felt unsteady and sick. He’d only accomplished taking a shower and he’d blasted himself with cold water like some kind of punishment…

He gulped and paced over to your door, hesitating with his hand ready to knock. He just needed to hear your voice. He needed to know you were at least somewhat okay in there. Shoving down his anxiety, he softly tapped his knuckles on the door. “Y/N?” His voice came out more gravelly than usual.

“Daryl, please just—just leave me alone. I need some time...”

He was relieved to hear anything from you, but the worry in the pit of his stomach didn’t vanish. He sighed and shut his eyes but no magic words to convince you to open the door came to him. “I’m—‘m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“I know. But I need some time,” you interrupted him.

“Alrigh’. I’ll be—I’ll be in the other room if ya need anythin’,” he finished lamely. When you didn’t say anymore, he drifted away to the other bedroom and laid down on top of the quilt on his back. At some point, he heard you move through the cabin, speaking softly to the dogs. He deciphered the clink of their food bowls and then the creaking of the cabin door.

He rushed to the doorway and looked out toward the front door, suddenly seized by worry that you’d decided to go off into the night for some unknown reason, but when all your winter gear was still hanging by the door his panicked eased. In a moment, you came back in with the dogs and looked up to see him standing in the doorway across the cabin. Daryl felt an electric jolt up his back like he always did when your eyes met, but it was quickly replaced by a chasm of space in his chest at how sad and drawn you looked. Your eyes were a bit red and puffy, a clear sign that you’d been crying and he found himself desperate to put things right.

“Y/N, I—”

You lifted a hand gently to stop him. “I know that isn’t what you meant. I know. But I just can’t right now, okay? Let’s just go to bed and we can try and—and talk tomorrow. Alright?” Daryl nodded, but the look on his face was agony. There was a sharp, insistent pang in your heart as you looked at him. The man thought he’d ruined everything.

To Daryl’s surprise, you wove your way across the room and stopped close in front of him. Your hand came to land lightly on his cheek, and although you didn’t smile and your expression was still drawn, you leaned in and press a kiss to his other cheek.

His eyes closed at the soft touch of your lips and when you stepped back, much of the distress was gone from his face. His blue eyes flitted over your features as you withdrew. “Tomorrow. Okay?” you whispered.

He gulped and managed a nod and watched you until you disappeared into your bedroom again.

_ _ _ _ _ _

At some point, perhaps from sheer exhaustion, Daryl had managed to fall asleep. You had too, despite the churning and biting anxiety in your stomach. But sometime in the early hours of the morning, Strider sat up in bed beside you and growled. It shot you awake immediately.

The room was dark, the fire in the hearth having died down. Even the coals were cloaked in a fresh layer of still hot ash. You sat up and strained your hearing, but for a long moment you didn’t hear anything. You reached for the light on your nightstand and clicked it on. Still nothing you could hear. The only sound was the thumping of your heartbeat loud in your ears.

Then Strider growled again. And Bear was alert where he had been lying in front of the fireplace.

Then you gasped as you heard a dull thud on the wall of the cabin. Your breaths came quickly now. Silence. Then a dragging along the outside wall. Strider growled again and you calmed him and continued to listen, trying to identify if this was animal, dead, or human…

Another bang and a growl, which was clearly not an animal. Then a deranged yell, the kind those fucking runners made. Another thud, but in a different part of the wall. A scratching sound. Shit.

You were frozen, sitting up in bed, straining your hearing to its limits. Please just let them move on. Please. Worried that some of the light from your lamp would show around the edges of the building, you clicked it off, but that only increased your unease. You wondered if Daryl could hear them on his half of the cabin.

There were a few final sounds, but eventually everything was still and silent again and it seemed that any infected outside had moved on. The dogs had settled again, easing your concern further. You felt for the hilt of your knife beside you on the nightstand, and being reassured it was within easy reach, you laid down again and settled into the pillow. Sleep took you again.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Another jolt awake. It was still dark. Barking. The dogs were barking. Your throat burned. You coughed, sitting up in bed, disoriented. Your hand flew to your knife on the side table. Smoke? You smelled smoke. You tasted smoke. Fire. The cabin was on fire?

You flopped out of bed onto the floor, the dogs moving around you urgently, chaotically. Why hadn’t the smoke alarms gone off? You crawled, coughing from the thick, hot air and groped for the light switch by the door. Nothing. No power? There was no power. No power, no smoke alarms. Had the main fireplace caught? Had an ember gone unnoticed somewhere?

What the hell was happening? Everything was happening so fast. Your thoughts were racing.

You reached the doorknob but let out a yell when it burned your palm. Your pressed a hand to the wood of the door experimentally and it was entirely too warm. Your eyes went to the bottom of the door and keyed in on the reddish—orange glow. Fuck! A big fire. Outside your door. SHIT. Out. You had to get out. Daryl? Was he awake? Was he okay? You couldn’t stop coughing. Every breath singed your throat. You pulled your shirt up over your nose and mouth in hopes of filtering out some of the smoke and soot. “Come on, boys! Come here!” you yelled to the dogs, and that’s when you finally registered the noise. That pounding, dragging, growling, scratching sound was loud in your ears—loud enough you had to yell over it. The dead.

You continued your crawl to the window, calling for the dogs to follow you, and as you approached it the volume of the cacophony of noise grew. You stayed hunched on the floor below the sill, panicked, frozen. Infected. The dead were outside, and by the sound of it, it was a flood of them.

You were trapped. Any moment they could come through the glass on the window. It was rattling in its pane.

The cabin was on fire. And the dead had come. And you were trapped.

#dead of winter #daryl dixon fanfic series #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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episodeoftv · 5 months

Text

Round 1 of 6, Group 1 of 4

Propaganda is under the cut (671 words) - may contain spoilers

summaries (pulled from imdb or wikis)

propaganda

Chén Qíng Lìng/The Untamed - 1.50 Episode 50

The mastermind who plans everything has appeared. He's not someone who wouldn't think he would be the one who is behind everything, including Wei Wuxian's comeback. Who would that be?

I nominate this final on grounds of CCP information control, censorship and homophobia. They were so scared of the power of wangxian that they ended up banning ao3 in china and in the show they have to inexplicably have them part ways just to hammer home the no-homo. Plus the show is just kind of objectively bad.... but it rewires your brain all the same

Supernatural - 15.20 Carry On

cw: suicide

After Chuck is defeated and someone takes his place, Sam and Dean go about their life of hunting, but things don't turn out as expected.

1) you know why 2) god. where do i fucking start. this episode completely ignores this large cast of characters that were considered family in order to make it the "just two brothers" show again, scrapping basically every shred of character development shown throughout the course of the show, cutting out incredibly important characters at the last second (i.e. eileen being replaced with blurry wife for no fucking reason, cas not being there at all despite the whole love confession/ dying for dean that happened just two episodes before). in the penultimate episode the boys fight god. the finale? a random vampire from an episode of season one, who up until this point had never been mentioned again. then we have Dean being impaled on a very phallic looking spike and, after a speech about it just being about the brothers, dies. he then goes to heaven, where his father figure tells him his abusive dad is just down the road. he hops in his car (also in heaven, somehow) and drives for the next 60 odd years waiting for Sam to die. meanwhile, sam is moving on with blurry wife and i shown with a son named dean (as seen stitched onto his clothes), and we eventually see sam, now old and clad in the crustiest looking wig i have ever seen, die in the hospital. he goes to heaven, meets Dean on a bridge, and the last shot is the entire cast and crew on the bridge saying goodbye, completely shattering the fourth wall because fuck it, who cares anymore. and this isn't even mentioning everything that happened after. just an absolute mess the whole way through. 3) Random villain from season 1 kills one of the main characters, he goes to heaven and drives around while the other main character gets a montage of growing old a horrible wig. And that's not even all. 4) It abandoned 15 years of series theme and character growth, veered away from the natural story line and failed to resolve major plot threads. Dean deserved better, and so did Cas. See also Jared's terrible wig, Dean jr, Dean driving through heaven for five minutes... 5) Dean dies in the most anticlimactic way, cheap wig, blurry wife 6) There was no Castel :( 7) I mean... 8) destroyed every character arc in one fell swoop. the guy who tried to kill himself and struggled with depression throughout the show ended up killing himself anyway! was cas’s death even important? who was blurry wife? why was the absolute ugliest toddler imaginable cast to play Sam’s son? but in order to truly grasp how decimating this finale was, you have to understand the queerbaiting between 15.18 and the finale. why did Misha post that pic in the onion field with Uriel. why was Misha originally credited to be in 19 episodes of the final season on IMDb. why was . Hrrgghh. 9) Do I even need to write propaganda for this one? Even though it was the series finale we are still here after 3 years 😂 Title said 'carry on', but the fandom said 'nah, time for season 16'. 10) Bad old man makeup and no castiel 11) Everything had been neatly wrapped up in the previous episode. Then they decided "Hey you know what would be great? If we just killed one of the main characters." They killed him for no reason. He deserved to live a full life, have a family, retire, but nope! He met his match in a RUSTY NAIL. Not to mention that there were terrible wigs, blurry wives, and subtextual incest vibes involved.

+ After it aired, one of the actors unfollowed everyone who had anything to do with the episode.

#supernatural #spn #the untamed #cql #wfround1 #wfpoll #polls #poll #wfr1g1 #PENIS POLL

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noramoons · 10 months

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renounced | x.dj

summary: your life as the eldest child in the royal family is simple: follow everything you’ve been told, without complaint. the game is easy—until you meet xiao dejun, who shows you that you may not have to play their game at all.

pairing: prince!xiaojun x gender neutral!royal reader

genre: angst with a happy ending (?)

wc: 4k

rating: T/15+

warnings: unspecified time period, historical inaccuracies, brief mention of religious analogies, implied suggestive content, language, not proofread (😧)

a/n: happy xiaojun day! :D (me, finishing a fic on time?? 🤯🤯) hope u enjoy this little one-shot. i’m sure there are MAJOR historical inaccuracies for the politics depictions in this - feel free to leave any feedback or concrit you might have!

This is the last time.

It's like a mantra. You repeat it to yourself, over and over, starting the sentence over with every other stairstep you reach.

This is the last time. It has to be.

Of course, you said that the last time, too.

Prince Dejun has been a fixture in your life for nearly as long as you can remember. And for a long time—you hated remembering.

His family's kingdom had brought yours to the brink of annihilation in war—a long, terrible, stupid war that your nation had been comically unprepared for. The Xiao family had industrialized their military years before your father's generals even began to think about the idea, studying and honing in their technological advances to the point that when they finally brought their army to your doorstep, your father had no choice but to kneel. Can it really be called war if the other side never even stands a chance?

You had hated Xiao Dejun, then. Hated the very idea of him and his entire family. Hated that they had been so generous as to allow your family to stay in their palace for a month while yours was being rebuilt, him and his brothers running through the halls with gleeful abandon while you and your younger siblings had to restrain yourselves at all times. You always had to be poised and patient, silent unless spoken to—the perfect guests for who you saw as little more than your captors.

It was several years later before your father's advisors began whispering again, hushed murmurs that gradually tumbled their way down to your eavesdropping ears—not of war this time, but of the future. Of building future alliances with the very nation that had nearly decimated your home.

And you, as the eldest child, were the perfect sacrificial lamb.

You had felt just as much, too, the night of your first outing with the prince. You would be supervised, of course, but you still found yourself unable to shake the feeling as the servants dressed you quietly, whispering to each other when they thought you couldn't hear. Like they were preparing a stuffed pig for a feast.

You'd dreaded every step down the main stairwell of your newly rebuilt home, clinging to the marble railing that you were sure was just as cold and unforgiving as the prince waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs (Completely unlike the way you are currently racing up a flight of stairs, heart growing lighter with each step).

You had been surprised, then, when Dejun had taken your gloved hand in his—it turned out he was warm flesh and blood, after all.

He'd engaged in perfectly polite, yet expected small talk all throughout the main entryway and into the gate outside. It wasn't until you reached that first step outside, the furthest you'd been away from home in months, that he had squeezed your hand and dropped his voice into an octave that sounded much more familiar to the Dejun you had seen briefly in his home.

"Do you trust me?"

You were taken aback by the question—but you certainly weren't a liar. "No."

He'd laughed at that—a light, airy sound escaping past his lips that you thought had no right to come from a devil. "I thought as much. I would've been surprised if you'd said so." Something glinted in his eyes. "Can you give me a chance to change your mind?"

What on Earth was he talking about? The two of you were only supposed to wander the gardens until dusk—that was what your governess had said. "Why would I do that?"

A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth—you thought, for an absentminded moment, how seemingly perfect his teeth were. What a strange thing to notice. "Because it'll get us away from the eyes of your governess."

Your own eyes widened. "What are you talking about? I—" I hadn't even noticed she was out here, you'd wanted to say. You had spun around, looking intently for somewhere she must have been hiding—she couldn't have been that inconspicuous if Dejun had noticed her already.

He'd squeezed your hand again, warm fingers still intertwined with yours. "I spoke with the stablehand before coming to call on you. He said he would leave a horse tied just outside the gates." He paused. "It's up to you, of course. Your Highness." He dropped your hand only to cross it across his chest in a mock serene bow, and you had bit onto your own tongue, hard, to keep a laugh from escaping you at the sight.

You had tried to weigh the consequences in your mind, but the thought of freedom was just as alluring as it always had been under the watchful eye of seemingly everyone else in the palace you'd grown up with. Even if it came with a price of momentary companionship with Xiao Dejun.

"We..." you had started. "We have to be back by sunset. No later."

He had grinned and taken your hand, running with you close behind, helping you mount the horse when you did, in fact, find one tied just outside the palace gates—and giving you the first taste, if only for an hour, of what real freedom might feel like.

You were chased down by your governess and a slightly bruised stablehand before the sun had even begun to set, but you and Dejun had talked, lying on your backs in an empty field miles away from the palace, for what felt like hours. It was then that you learned he cared practically nothing for politics, that he had no plans to be king the way his father had ruled. You discovered, through a series of conversations, that he wanted so much more for his life—to not be tied to something he hadn't chosen for himself. You'd never forget for the rest of your life how his eyes shone that evening, how they sparkled as he listened to you, and how he talked about the life he wanted with such excitement. He wanted to learn how to walk across a trapeze, or become a traveling musician, to sail across the world with a band of pirates—he wanted to at least have options. To be able to choose something for himself, something that was only his.

That glass facade you had built in your head of him shattered. He was so, so much like you, in every way you had never imagined.

Your governess gave you an earful when you were dragged back to the palace that night, but you could barely find it in yourself to care. Dejun had planted a dangerous seed in your brain—the idea of getting to choose.

While your father wasn't entirely pleased with the events of your first outing with Prince Dejun, his advisors still believed it would be a beneficial match for the future of the kingdom—so you were allowed to continue your courtship with the prince.

With every meeting, you found your affection for the worldview he had given you growing. You were allowed to let yourself want for the first time. You wanted the ability to choose what you did with your life. You wanted to see what the rest of the world looked like outside of your room in the palace.

You wanted Dejun. And he wanted you, too.

But perhaps that grasp of freedom was something you didn't deserve. After all—at the end of the day, there wasn't truly any aspect of your life's path that you chose yourself. Even the idea of freedom was ludicrous. Everything was preordained for your life by the same gods (who you had been told since birth) that had put your father on the throne—to say or do otherwise was simply unthinkable. Heresy. A refusal of everything you had been put on this planet to do.

It had clearly been too long since you had any reminders of that fact—and so your father's advisors, moods changing like the tides of the ocean, provided you with one.

Your kingdom and the Xiaos found themselves in a trade standoff—the Xiao kingdom had the grain your kingdom so desperately needed after his soldiers had burned your farmlands down to the soil, but your father's advisors refused to pay what the Xiaos were demanding. They could get grain and cattle at a much lower price from the Qian kingdom to the south—not nearly as militarily advanced as the Xiaos, but a longtime ally of your father's, and a royal family with a son your age.

One too many insults were exchanged between families over tense negotiations—and so your courtship with Dejun was called off. Replaced with a hurried engagement to the prince of the Qian family, a man you'd never met.

And yet—you couldn't burn the roots of what Dejun had planted in you. Now more than ever, you wanted that freedom Dejun had promised you. You wanted the ability to lash out about this choice made for you, to scream at your uncaring father who only saw you as a political pawn to be used for the betterment of the nation.

But what could you do? You had been raised in a calculating way—everything you did was politics. Every choice you made was a stepping stone for your future—and not just yours. The future of your family, your lineage, your nation rested on your shoulders as the next in line for the throne. Who were you to just cast that aside? Run away with nothing but the hope Dejun would follow you? Would he follow you?

There was still a positive outcome, albeit a small one—you learned that while your relationship with Dejun had been broken for you, your kingdom's alliance with the Xiao family was not entirely lost. It was damaged enough to not want your families permanently intertwined, but not enough to go to war again—or more importantly to your circumstance, not damaged enough that their invitations to your family's yearly galas with the surrounding kingdoms had been rescinded.

A full year passed by the time your family hosted another gala, and it took all the self restraint you had mustered within you to not rush across the ballroom and hold him impossibly close to you when you finally, finally locked your gaze onto Dejun again for the first time in a year. You saw the way his eyes lit up when he saw you from the top of the staircase—the same way you had seen them shine all those years ago, when he had first introduced that damned idea of freedom into your stupidly impressionable mind. You wondered if anyone else in the ballroom could hear how loud your heart was pounding.

It took almost the entire evening, dancing with several other princes and high-ranking officials (the ones your advisors had informed you to charm for potential future alliances) before you were finally able to drag Dejun out of the ballroom, unnoticed, and into a nearby corridor.

You stared at each other for a moment. Then two.

Dejun whispered your name, as if saying it too loud would shatter the moment you've given him.

"I've missed you," you said. Ever the careful, political one—you'd ached with how much your mind and soul had missed Dejun, but you couldn't tell him that. What if he didn't feel the same? What if he didn't want to be seen with you, now that you were engaged to someone else? What if—

He leaned across, cupping your cheek in one hand and pressing his lips to yours in one singular, fluid motion.

Once again—Dejun had presented you with an opportunity you hadn't even thought of yourself. You had seen a door at the end of a hallway and thought it to be the only exit—and Dejun had shown you how to escape through a window.

The next two years of galas were the same—on one night a year, you'd entertain guests for hours, dancing until your feet were sore and mind swirling as you tried to remember everyone's name and affiliation and rank. None of it mattered once everyone retired to their guest suites, preparing for a long day of travel tomorrow, and you were free to slip away and spend the long hours of the night, unnoticed, with Dejun.

Each time, you heard a rock at your window as you were preparing for bed, and each time, you knew what it meant. You'd look outside to see a shining pair of eyes in the darkness, holding a single candle and beckoning you to follow. You'd end the evening as far away from the palace as you could get, tangled in Dejun's limbs underneath the moonlight, the two of you only pulling your cloaks back on and hurrying back in giggles when the first rays of morning sunlight were beginning to rise.

It's what you're doing now—heart racing as you ascend the final stair and make your way to the balcony before you. But this time will be different, you know. It has to be.

You're getting married next month to Prince Kun. You should have cut this tryst off before it even began—you know it will only continue to cause you and Dejun both heartache and suffering. And from what you hear, his own father's advisors have been hard at work finding an engagement for Dejun. It won't be long before you're both encumbered with marital duties.

All of this is at the tip of your tongue to tell him—and then he turns around from the balcony railing.

The moon frames his dark hair like a halo, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he sees you walking towards him—and oh, gods, how could you ever tell him anything of the sort? When he's running a soft hand through your hair and he's pulling your lips to his, when you're closing your eyes against him and letting him glide a hand down to the small of your back and press his chest to yours—when you're tasting freedom on his lips, how could you ever take that away?

But the thought still haunts you when you're lying on your back beside him, miles away from the palace and watching the stars glitter in the sky above you. You know why neither of you have discussed the fact that you're engaged to Kun, that you'll be living in a palace in an entirely different kingdom after next month. Admitting that you need to have a discussion, after all, feels like admitting that this has to end.

Dejun stirs beside you—you had thought he was asleep. You turn on your side to look at him.

He smiles when he sees your face, and you can't fight a smile from tugging at your own lips. How can you give this up? "This is it," he says, suddenly, and you feel your stomach lurch—of course he'd be the one to acknowledge this. "Isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" you say, quietly—but the quiver in your voice betrays that you know his meaning all too well.

Dejun reaches across and intertwines his fingers with yours, bringing your connected hands up to his lips as he kisses each fingertip. "Did you want to never discuss it? To lie with me here, and then never see me again?"

You frown. "Of course not. But I don't exactly know how—"

"Run away with me," he says suddenly. "They'll never find us. We can go to the ends of the earth."

You laugh at how abrupt he is. "They'd find us, Dejun. Your father owns the greatest military in the world, and my father has spies on every inch of this continent. We'd never make it across either border."

He's insistent. "We have to try. I told you, all those years ago, that I want to be able to choose something for my life, something that's only mine. It's you, Y/N. I don't care where we are or what we're doing—I can't stand to be apart from you anymore."

His words strike your heart like daggers, but you still shake your head slowly—grabbing the hilt and driving the daggers in further yourself. "It's too late. Don't you see? It's not just my family that's depending on my choices now—the Qians are too. I can't turn my back on this anymore by just running away."

"And who decides that?" He shoots back. "None of this has been up to you. Don't you think you deserve a chance to choose a life for yourself?"

You don't know why it's never occurred to you before. It's a fantasy—all of this. Ever since the moment your courtship with Dejun was called off years ago, you've been in a child's delusion. The real world calls now, with all of its accompanying rules and responsibilities—you have no place allowing yourself to stay in this illusion anymore. There has to be another universe, a different life where the two of you were smart enough to never do anything this stupid, but it isn't this one. There's no substance to you and Dejun. "And in that life, I would do what? Continue to be a once-a-year tryst to you? Do you..." You take a sharp breath. "Do you love me, Dejun?"

He looks like you've stung him with your words—maybe you have. "You know how I feel about you, Y/N, I—"

"Can you say it?" Part of you is screaming internally for giving him an ultimatum like this, for probably ripping away the only respite you've ever had from your life in a cage—but you know that if you don't do it, it'll be done for you. Just like everything else.

"I..." he trails off, and you find yourself utterly afraid for what he might have said—because it might have convinced you.

And then he inhales again. Clenches his jaw. "Goodnight, Y/N."

Your heart sinks, but you swallow down the self-induced disappointment. "Goodnight, Dejun."

You don't think either of you sleep much that night. You watch the sun rise on the horizon hours later—beautiful, cheerful shades of pinks and oranges that are a perfect contrast to the knots of worry you can feel brewing in your stomach.

As you and Dejun hurry back (in silence) to the south side of the palace, you begin to slow at the gate behind the gardens. In the past, you've always stopped here to say your goodbyes before heading back into the palace on your own separate ways, as to not arouse suspicion.

Dejun never stops. He never even begins to slow down his walking pace. Instead, you watch him walk past you, through the gardens and into the side door into the scullery—and now you really can't shake this feeling that you've made a massive, unchangeable mistake.

You remember how much you once hated him—how to even hear the name Xiao Dejun made your stomach twist. Now, you think, you'd give anything to hear his name announced in the same room as you. And it may never happen again.

The month that follows your engagement with Qian Kun goes by in a blur. The wedding preparations, the attire, the food for the guests—it's all chosen for you, anyway, so why should you care? You silently mourn the loss of all things good and routine in your life that you'd come to cherish before—including Dejun.

The wedding itself is a different experience—mostly because you don't feel like you're even really there. Everything is just as you had rehearsed the day before; your father walks you down the aisle in full royal regalia. You stand beside Kun and recite your perfectly memorized vows. You touch your lips to his.

It’s a game, all of it—and you’ve been told every move to play.

You don't eat much at the reception, and your new husband seems to notice. He asks if you're not feeling well, if you need to leave early—and as much as you know you need to stay to keep up appearances, to maintain the alliances your father's advisors have so carefully crafted for you with this marriage—you can't help but nod yes.

Kun is too kind for his own good, you think. He briefly shows you around the royal wing of your new home, where you'll presumably be staying for the rest of your life, before opening the door to the bedroom at the end of the corridor. You expect him to follow you inside, so you're surprised when he moves to open the door again to leave.

He turns around, a small smile of understanding on his mouth. "I'll see you in the morning, Your Highness. When you're feeling better." He hesitates for only a brief moment before adding, "You don't have to keep up appearances around me. I hope you know that."

You don't know that, in all honesty—but you smile and nod gratefully anyway.

You let yourself sit in the silence of your room for a long while, comfortable with it in contrast to the loud reception you can still hear ongoing downstairs. You think about calling for help on undressing out of your royal wedding attire, but the thought of being alone is still far more appealing, even if it takes you an hour to get out of all these layers.

You've only undone two buttons when you hear a thump on the floor, right below the open window. It's a rock, you realize in disbelief as you bend down to take a closer look. You hold it under the candlelight, and you finally recognize the familiar scrawled ink across the surface.

I love you.

You lean over the window, heart pounding so loud you can hear it rushing in your ears—and you see him. He hasn't even dismounted from the horse he must have ridden to the castle on, one hand still clutching the reins, other hand waving in the air to catch your attention.

Dejun's face lights up when he sees you, and you suddenly feel that same lightness in your chest the instant you see it. Like you'd never even left his side.

You grab the candle on your nightstand and bring it by the window to see him better, and it's then that you begin to hear what he's been saying—not yelling, thankfully, to ensure any wedding goers won't hear. But you don't even think you'd mind now, as you lean further out of the window and finally hear it from his own lips.

I love you.

You think about what he said only a month ago, an echo of the things he'd said to you when you were younger. That you deserve to choose.

You think that while there is a lifetime where you were smart enough to never do anything this stupid, there must also be another where you are brave enough to run away—to be in love, to choose with your own mind to leave behind everything you've known for each other. For something that you both know would last.

Maybe there's a part of you that thinks that lifetime can be this one—that they're one and the same. That some part of you still longs to be that foolish, and that brave.

You cup your hands around your mouth and call down to him—your answer to tonight's unspoken question.

I love you too.

a/n: feedback is always welcome through reblogs, comments, and messages 💛 thank you sm for reading!

taglist: @petrichor-han @kangroo-chan @ot7lonelylover @lilacdreams-00 @mainexiii @awkwardnesshabitat @lotus-dly @elizabeth11moreno @nerdysl-t @seung-scrittore

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glitcheslikeslego · 25 days

Text

Show Me Your Moves! (Chapter 10)

AO3 STORY

Chapter 10 : Outrage

Outrage is a Dragon-type move that inflicts damage for 2-3 turns, afterwards, it will confuse the user. If Outrage is disrupted (such as paralysis or hurting in confusion), it will end. The user will only become confused if Outrage is fully completed.

When Sandy said that he would be staying with Mei for the night, you prepared yourself for the eventual worst.

Mei had summoned her dragon form at some point, and you didn’t know the extent of the damage. It mainly hit her giant garden front lawn, but you didn’t know if there was any more collateral.

Low key, you were probably expecting General Ironclad to burst through your window.

But one thing you definitely weren’t expecting was Sandy leaving you in charge of the shop.

In hindsight, it made sense, but it still surprised you.

That meant leaving you the keys to the shop, as well as the keys to the register, and the keys to the fridges, the keys to the tea supply, and a key where he keeps all of his extra cat supplies that he couldn’t fit into his boat.

Add this in with your apartment key, and suddenly, you had all the keys in the world.

Not really, you’re just being overdramatic, but what else are you supposed to do when your boss leaves his newbie employee to take care of his entire store!?

Taking a deep breath, you calm yourself.

Everything will be fine…

Everything was not fine!

Being by yourself was incredibly stressful. You got the brunt of the lunch rush of people wanting tea, and you had to deal with an angry customer who is normally angry so it was more annoying.

Starts with Red and ends with SON.

Despite all of that, you managed to close up on time. You were listening to the radio as you swept the floors, just vibing, when—

C R A S H

You screamed and turned around.

And saw General Ironclad had indeed crashed through the shop window, and Mei’s dragon was clearly visible even though it was returning to the girl’s body.

And in your complete frustration, you scream.

Mei, MK, and Sandy were in the middle of the sleepover when Sandy’s phone began ringing.

Sandy answered, and seeing Mei and MK’s curious faces, put it on speaker.

“Hey, uh, Sandy?”

MK and Mei brightened hearing your voice.

“Hey, what’s up?” Sandy replied.

“Uhh, what exactly happened over there?”

Your suspicious tone made the three sweat drop. “A bull clone infiltrated my home and tried to steal some of my fam’s important stuff!” Mei explained.

“Great, uuum, did the bull clone wear a cape and fancy hat?”

“Yeah? Why?”

You turned on facecam to reveal the shattered window, as well as the almost decimated bull clone being pulled away by Red Son, who was grumbling incoherently.

“Maybe, next time Mei decides to blast someone, she should work on her aim.”

On the other end, you could hear Mei and MK laughing as Sandy let out a high pitched shriek. “MY WINDOW!!!”

~~~

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softlyapocalytpic · 10 months

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I feel like I remember a post going around a while ago about the inherent tragedy of Fallout 4 and the anti-climax that is Finding Shaun and- I just can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t.

(Going under a cut because this post got away from me LMAO)

It’s a tragedy. Your son is a cold horrific monster of a man who looks at people as experiments over being people. He’s egotistical to the point of thinking of himself as somehow larger than life- not quite godly, but something more adjacent to that- because of his control over life. *Because of how they groomed him to be. He was never allowed to be a “normal” kid. The Shaun we meet is doomed, hopeless, and it’s… heartbreaking. That’s your son and.

And he’s dead. He dies no matter what faction you choose. There’s no chance for true reconciliation.

(*There’s something to say about the parallels between Shaun and Maxson as characters that I’ve talked about to others in the past but still sticks with me. Not the post for it necessarily, but I wanted to mention it.)

For me personally, the ending of Fallout 4 wasn’t victorious, it was hollow. Now, part of that is definitely influenced by what I was going through at the time, but it has stuck with me how the only lights of hope I felt were… well it was Deacon. He made it less empty. Made it feel like it meant something good.

I didn’t like pushing the button though. I thought about all the shit that could’ve taken from Institute and used for the wasteland for something good. Thought about Shaun. Thought about how I couldn’t truly say goodbye to him. Felt like I was playing out the motions, and that fucking slideshow did nothing to help the hollowness.

It’s not victorious. But then we keep going anyway. There is still work to be done. And there’s companions to keep you company, to make the world a little brighter.

And Jesus Christ I love that fucking game. I love the sandbox and I love the way that when it hits? It fucking hits.

And guess what! Fallout 3? Fallout 76? Also fucking tragedies.

Sure, Broken Steel brings the LW back from the dead, but Lone died even if Lone isn’t “dead”. The slideshow still plays. You wake up and suddenly aren’t dead, but you should be. You should be. You, a nineteen year old kid were tasked with being a martyr. Sarah is pissed off when you ask her to do it. It should be you in the eyes of the narrative. You should be the one bearing the weight of martyrdom. Follow in your Father’s footsteps.

Fallout 76? I… your nuking the Appalachia repeatedly. Everything is gone by 2277. The bright future meant to rejuvenate the Wasteland ends up destroying it. Idfk what else there is to say on that front.

And these are just… the main Bethesda titles. 1, 2, and NV are arguably in the same boat but there’s a bit more in the sense that… well for those ones it’s much more about the “you’ve won, but at what cost?”. In the original Fallout, and let’s say you take the (I think more popular route) of talking to the Master rather than fighting him: you watch someone realize the weight of the atrocities they’ve committed, realize they had no purpose, and then kill himself and everyone there after you personally have gone through actually psychic hell to approach him. Then, you get kicked out of your only home you’ve ever known!

Fallout 2? You home is decimated, your people traumatized, and you must rebuild it from the ground up. You defeated the Enclave, but they took something from you that can’t be replaced or forgotten.

New Vegas… god there’s so much there and there’s another point I want to make to this post- make I can make it feed into this but- the Mojave gets ravaged by war. No matter who wins, atrocities will continue to have been done and to be committed. There’s deadly forces on the horizon who don’t give a SHIT about this petty war and the fucking dumb politics of these major powers. It will hit any faction hard and unmercifully. And there was still a war that consumed an entire land. So companion has a truly “happy” end. They’re all scarred and broken and have to make peace with the path they’ve chosen. People win, but they don’t win, y’know?

And I wish- as much as I love these tragedies- I wish there was more… hope. I wish that the world of Fallout allowed the brightness to shine through a little brighter. To allow the people who try to rebuild into something new to be more successful, to be allowed to take the narrative into their hands, bECAUSE HOLY FUCK DOES THIS DARK ASS WORLD HAVE SO MUCH MORE HOPE THEN ITS EVER GIVEN CREDIT FOR.

Begin Again is a rallying cry for me. The end of Lonesome Road, if you spare Ulysses, is a rebellion against the fucking cycle of violence and hatred. You want to BUILD something. Create rather than just regurgitate the old world into something more twisted than it’s corpse.

Surviving the purifier? Rebelling against the notion that you must die, that you must be a martyr, taking your life into your own hands? Watching a source of clean water be handed out for free and spread across the Wastes? Fucking! Breathing new life into Harold and so he breathes new life into the Earth?

Living even though you’ve lost all your family? Getting a new one in the people who follow you? Helping people rebuild the Commonwealth after it’s been terrorized and destroyed? Leaving this world stronger and safer then when you came into it?

Honestly- this post got away from me. @persephotea got me in my Fallout 4 thoughts (of which I have so many and they’re always trying to burst out of me) and I got to thinking about what I try to write about in my fics. Hope. Hope, hope, hope.

I choose a kinder Fallout world not because I’m trying to soften the edges, but because I want to believe that humanity has such an ability to be kind if it chooses to. That a world ravaged by destruction would CHOOSE kindness and growth. That despite all the darkness and selfishness, people would choose to Begin Again.

It’s all a fucking tragedy, but that’s only if the cycle continues. We can change it. We can end it. Just gotta choose to do it.

If you got this far, thank you for reading my tired thoughts and please please please share yours. I want to hear your thoughts so bad. Okay okay, I’ll post now.

#astra rambles #astra meta #fallout 4 #fallout new vegas #fallout 3 #It’s early morning and I need to go back to sleep #but these thoughts needed to be typed up #all these games have flaws BUT HOLY FUCK never ever think I hate any of them #there’s so much there #I feel so much about this world #it means so fuckinf much to me and I just #know that I love them #that I want to see something bloom from them

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