#so I've been mulling and this is what I've got on the subject

[queenlucythevaliant]

Here's what I'll say regarding choice of worship music (and I'm not 100% sure where I'm going with this, so bear with me): I think it's very easy to get burned out on specific kinds of worship, no matter what they are. And that kind of burn-out is hard.

I grew up at a church that did 95% CCM for worship, and after a while it either (a) exhausted me emotionally or (b) bored me. By the time I hit high school, I really really struggled with corporate worship because it felt as though I wasn't responding as I was supposed to. Getting to sing mostly hymns at the church I attended at college was a huge breath of fresh air, and it helped me immensely in terms of re-orienting my heart towards Christ-centered worship (as opposed to me-centered worship.) For the first time in my life, I found myself listening to Christian music on my own time during the week.

I watched the recent Jesus Revolution movie with mom over the summer. Her family started attending Calvary Chapel (then-nascent hippy church in Orange County) midway through her childhood, and she got really excited talking about the difference between the hymns she remembered from early elementary school ("we sang the whole hymnal rather than selecting for the really good ones like they do at your church") and the much more dynamic music that came out of Maranatha and other early "contemporary" Christian groups. She actually played me a whole bunch of the songs she grew up with the next morning. They sounded horrifically cheesy to me, but she got real joy out of it and even ended up texting a few songs to my aunt.

And yet, my mom has remarked a whole bunch of times to me that she really can't stand current CCM; that she desperately misses singing the old hymns. I look at myself and my own experience and I can totally see myself coming back to some of the CCM songs I grew up with and encountering Christ through them all new again. As recently as last month, I had a really beautiful experience driving back from a concert crazy late at night with my sister and listening to some of the old Chris Tomlin and Hillsong stuff that I hadn't heard in a while. It brought me back to a sense of incredible comfort and safety nestled up against God like a baby chick. Do I want to worship with that sort of music every week right now? No, definitely not. But it has its place.

Obviously worship transcends something as incidental as music genre. It's an expression of why we were created: glorifying God and enjoying him forever --- and yet, because of the fall, it's really easy to get burned out on specific expressions of worship. I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing so much as just a symptom of the fall. I also think that people who are really burned out on a particular kind of worship can be really, really obnoxious about it. I know I was for a while, and I still definitely have my hangups with CCM.

But like- I don't think it's so much about judgement or superiority towards the kind of worship music that you're burnt out on as it is just the overwhelming sense that that kind of worship music felt exhausting and this kind of music actually feels like I'm able to worship again. I know when I started singing hymns at church, it just felt like I'd found the Rosetta Stone. I was suddenly so much less in my own head on Sunday mornings and oh my goodness singing to God was a joy again and I can't remember but I don't think it's ever been a joy like this before has it?? It was almost like my head was spinning with some great new revelation and when I was obnoxious about it it was mostly a manifestation of my being like Why didn't anyone ever tell me it could be like this? Why isn't everyone singing hymns? It's just so much better this way!

Mostly, it just feels like saying "don't be overly critical of how other Christians like to worship" kind of. Misses the trees for the forest, if that makes sense? Like, it's accurate to the big picture, it's absolutely a true and worthwhile thing to say. But at the same time it kind of rankles for me because it misses how it feels to be truly and deeply alienated by the kind of worship you're exposed to.

For better and for worse, worship is (I think) the spiritual discipline that engages the emotions most directly. The feeling of being in a group of people all worshipping together, and your heart just isn't responding right no matter how you try to re-focus and orient it? It's one of the loneliest feelings I know.

#long and rambling #what else is new #I've been chewing on a couple of the worship posts floating around (from liz kaylie and ella? i think?) #they're all very good and true posts and yet i was having sort of prickly reactions to them #not defensive exactly so much as just. hypersensitive? idk #so I've been mulling and this is what I've got on the subject #also worth noting that a lot of this is tangled up with my very-concurrent experiences with chronic illness #and all the grief and emotion-in-God's-direction thereof #anyway #only thou art holy #pontifications and creations #sunday school kid #unproofed. if there are any big errors I'll fix later. it's crazy late and i should not be posting on Tumblr #do please chime in if you've had similar experiences and let me know I'm not crazy lol

[ravewing]

Could you talk about your infection au? I'm invested in it and I've been thinking about it all day

YES HULLO !! i dont want to spoil anything too much and im also working on a field guide sort of thing for the different stages of infection so im gonna try not to talk about those rite neow BUT im so glad that people r enjoying it! so id been seeing these scary mlp infection things ALLL over my tik tok feed for weeks and i was like .. yanno .. itd be really silly if i made this wof .. so i spent like 3 days mulling over what i could make the infection actually BE and i almost made it like the icewing plague but like it went scary but i didnt really know how to keep going with that so then i came up with a super smart idea which turned into this😋i dont wanna say where it started yet cuz ermm lore stuff but i will say that liek in the story the infection doesnt officially have a name yet so everyones just calling it like. the sickness at jade mountain. most of the infected originated IN jade mountain with the first symptoms being noticed in moon and turtle respectively, and then with the icewing students. i cant tell you guys how they got sick bc again . lore ..... but i think that its like kinda possible to find out. but i dunno. vulture and fierceteeth are also sick. there is ONE singular factor that unites these 4 + icewings, which miight b the reason WHY they got sick.kinkajou technically SHOULD be sick but she isnt for another reason that i cant say but if you really look into wof lore then i think u can figure it out idk. the infections transmitted via saliva/blood transmission, so mainly bites. tail barbs of infected sandwings are capable of spreading the sickness. there are 4 stages (5 if you count death) and it takes around 3 to 3.5 weeks for all stages to finish,, by ep3 the sickness has been around for ~2.5 weeks. the only KNOWN cure is amputation of wherever the infected area is,, so MUCH easier in early stages, unfortunate if its on an inconvenient spot, and impossible after hives start spreading. obvi flame had to be important bc i heart flame and i was like .. wait .. hes a healer in canon ...... so that worked out perfectly !! ik that in canon liana is like one of glorys MANY bodyguards but idc shes a healer here bc ermm i said so . also liana and mango r dating but i dont think that its relevant to the plot theyre just girlfriends in my head . as of right now kinkajou and peril are the only known immune dragons, with kinkajou for reasons currently unknown and peril bc . yknow . shes on fire . glory is in close contact with ruby and both kingdoms have taken measures to notify their kingdoms; the rainforest is under a sort of lockdown with rainwings on constant patrol/lookout for outsiders entering, they accept anyone who isnt infected to stay there for refuge while the skywing kingdom is in basically total lockdown other than ruby's messengers. ruby and glory also exchange their respective kingdoms medical knowledge, with the skywings having very good technology and rainwings having an expansive knowledge on medical herbs. nobody has heard from coral- the last thing she did was call for anemone's return back to the kingdom, and once she arrived, they all went underwater and have since then cut all outside contact. the mudwings are aware of the sickness but have so far done nothing about it; moorhen has warned her subjects but thats really it. i havent really decided what the sandwings or the icewings are up to but let me tell you guys its looking really rough for the icewings . so far it looks as though royal icewings are more resilient- tundras currently sick, but the sickness seems to be progressing much slower. this was initially believed to be because of the cold, but then other icewings started getting sick, and so its believed to just be a royal thing- likely something in their genetics. icicle is also sick but shes in stage 4 .. pray for my girl guys. lynx is helping snowfall out the best she can, but with the population getting increasingly sick seemingly spontaneously, its extremely difficult and stressful. the talons have quarantined sanctuary too. ok im outta characters but ya ty 4 the support!!

#wof #wings of fire #wof au #infection au #infection #fragariapathosis #yap session #idk if any of this makes sense its 2am and i did NOT proofread #fragariapathosis explained

[tamras-shieldmaiden]

The subject of Kuvira's childhood has always intrigued me, and after the release of Ruins of the Empire, I've been mulling over some ideas, leading me to come up with some headcanons. A couple have found their way to my fanfics and since my muses are currently taking a breather after Lin week, I've decided to share some of the other headcanons I've come up with so far, so here they are:

Before she manifested her bending abilities, Kuvira had enjoyed a regular childhood. Her parents were strict, and her father, in particular, was known to be a disciplinarian. Things took a downward turn when they realized that the strange mishaps around the house (cracks in the wall, rocks that seemingly appeared out of nowhere around the house) and the reason why the little girl would return home with her clothes soiled with dirt were because she realized she could earthbend. Kuvira was the first bender in the family after several generations. The discovery hadn’t been a reason to rejoice for the couple because bending had mostly led to criminal careers for their relatives in the past, the most notorious example being of a great uncle who had been associated with a powerful daofei in Gaoling. Little Kuvira had noticed how disillusioned her father looked when she demonstrated her abilities to him, and his expression on that fateful day is something that is permanently branded in her memory.

As time went by and her abilities proved more powerful than anyone could’ve anticipated for a child her age, Kuvira's parents grew more overwhelmed by her bending and the damage it inflicted on their house, and in response, they began to turn cold and distant. The negative bias they had about bending prevented them from seeking a proper sifu for their child, judging benders to be self-serving and dangerous, and instead, they encouraged her to suppress it. The negative feedback Kuvira received in turn begat frustration, and she began to act out, not understanding why her parents were acting differently around her, what could be wrong with her, or why she couldn’t fit their expectations. She became an introverted child who didn't have friends. After the incident with her mom, neighbors feared her, and children had cruel names for her.

The child was cursed with a precocious ability coupled with cunning and a quick temper. She didn't have anyone around to realize that her mood swings happened because she got bored quickly and was desperate to properly control her bending. Her parents eventually realized that they were way out of their league to deal with this situation by themselves. Ironically, one of the reasons she later thrived in Zaofu was because she was provided with the proper outlets for her energy and her intellect. Music and the dance troupe, in particular, were instrumental in her development because it became a way to channel her energy into something productive while learning the ways bending could be applied for creative and non-violent purposes.

Her father had heard about the city of Zaofu through a group of merchants who had returned with stories about a city built in platinum by a powerful metal bender related to the Beifong family. For Kuvira’s father, who had recently dealt with the incident where Kuvira nearly killed her mother in an outburst and was at his wits' end, the news provided the opportunity he had been waiting for, so he told his convalescent wife to seek this master earthbender’s help, convincing her to send their daughter away under the pretext that it would be a temporary arrangement. Unbeknownst to her, he had no intention of bringing her back.

For a time, the sound of the wheels of a wooden cart approaching would startle Kuvira because she instinctively looked around to see if it was her father returning to take her back to the family.

During first months living in the Beifong estate, Suyin noticed Kuvira had kept her belongings in the humble travel pack she had arrived with as if expecting to depart. She liked spending as much time as possible outside the mansion because she wanted to keep vigilant about the people who arrived at the estate. Several times, Suyin had to fetch her from the city walls after receiving word from the guards because the girl had snuck out to ask the guards if they had seen her father arrive for her.

When people talked to her, she commented that she was there to learn earthbending, but it was a temporary arrangement, and as soon as her sifu gave word to her parents that she could control her bending, they would come back for her. But as time went by without word from them, her temper would flare at the smallest provocation as a way to hide her growing insecurity. During this time, she struggled deeply with guilt and from having hurt her mother, and she grew convinced that it was her fault that her family ended up separated and no longer wanted her back. It was during this period that she would lash out at Opal, whom she felt saw her as an intruder to the family, and it took a long time for their sibling rivalry to cool, although they never grew close. Kuvira's status as a prodigy only complicated things even further, as Opal saw Kuvira as a rival for her mom's attention. This rivalry between Opal and Kuvira was the reason why Kuvira believed she was never treated or considered as a Beifong, and once she acquired roles in the household, she saw herself to be more of a trusted employee than an adopted child.

It took time for Kuvira to make friends in Zaofu. Baatar reached out to her because he was also introverted, and despite his position as the matriarch’s firstborn, he struggled to make real friends, and those who gravitated around him did so to seek personal favors for their families. She realized he was a fellow outcast despite his status, and his praise gave her the validation she desperately wanted. Kuvira thrived on praise, and she would seek praise and approval, especially from Suyin. Suyin quickly became her role model, and Kuvira emulated her, going so far as to follow her in the matriarch's morning routine overseeing the city, and Kuvira ended up overcoming her introversion, learning her social skills from Su.

#the legend of korra #legend of korra #tlok #lok #kuvira #zaofu #headcanons #childhood #suyin beifong #opal beifong #my writing #ruins of the empire #rote

[rowyn-writes]

Cinnamon and Sugar

Chapter Five

Warnings: Self hate, mentions of abusive ex, mentions of a minor character death, fluff

Characters: Reader, Dean, Michael, Jo

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

You had been living with Dean for five weeks now, and everything felt surprisingly normal. You both woke up early in the morning for work, so you got to have breakfast together. You liked having someone to talk to before going to work.

It was five in the morning as you and Dean shuffled around the kitchen in a comfortable silence. You had made some eggs and bacon for the both of you while Dean got ready for work. Since Dean passed the coffee shop to get to work, he would drop you off, and in return, you made him coffee to get him ready for the day. 

"Mornin' sweetheart." Dean grumbles as he comes out of his room, yawning. His hair was still tousled from sleep. You chuckle softly at the sight.

"Morning, Dean. Forget to brush your hair?" You snorted. Dean laughs as he smooths down his hair.

"Maybe I was trying out a new style, Y/n, ever think of that?" He sniffed, pretending to be mad.

"Aw, c'mon now, you never change up your routine, so I find that highly unlikely. And besides, you can't be mad at me forever, I made you breakfast." You set his plate down on the table, pouring a glass of orange juice for him.

"I got damn lucky to have you as a roommate." He sighed happily as he ruffles your hair before sitting down at the table, tucking into his breakfast.

"I could say the same." You smile as you eat with him. Storm was still asleep on the window seal. Despite Dean buying a cat bed for him to get into his good graces, the cat refused to actually sleep in the bed. He just sniffed at it before going back to what he was doing.

Once you and Dean were finished with breakfast, he took the plates and put them in the dishwasher, starting a load. You went and grabbed your apron for work before heading out the door with Dean, sliding into his beautiful Impala. "I hope you know that if I actually still drove, I'd totally wanna take Baby for a joyride." You joked.

Dean laughs softly, his eyes crinkling up at the edges. "You're more than welcome to drive her anytime you need, sweetheart. I won't stop you."

"Oh, um, nah." You shook your head gently. "I don't really drive anymore. I um, I got into a really bad car crash about a year ago and I don't really drive anymore because of it." It was the first time you had really talked about the car crash with anyone other than Jo or Jack.

"I'm sorry to hear about that sweetheart. Was everyone alright?" He frowns, looking over at you.

"Oh, um, yeah, I just had a broken arm. . . The other driver was okay too." 

Dean could tell that you wanted to drop the subject. "So, I was thinking, you don't work tomorrow, right? And you're done with exams?"

"Yeah, why?" You tilt your head curiously.

"Well," Dean said as he pulled into the parking lot of Chuck's. "I was thinking that tonight we go to my favorite bar and have some drinks, my treat. They're having karaoke tonight too, and I think it would be a lot of fun."

You mulled it over for a moment. You didn't drink much, but you thought this would be a good chance to get to know Dean a little better and let loose some. "I think that'd be a lot of fun, actually." You give him a gentle smile. 

"Perfect, I get off work tonight at 5. I'll pick you up and take you home on my lunch break, I don't want you walking home alone or anything." Dean gives you a boyish grin, the one that you had come to adore. 

"Thanks, Dean, you have no idea how much I appreciate your kindness." And it was true. Dean was kind to you when it felt like you hit rock bottom. Being evicted from you apartment was rough, and you never expected him to offer his home up to you. Even though you hadn't known Dean long, you trusted him, and it seems that he trusted you. You hated to think about where you'd be without him right now.

"Don't mention it, sweetheart. I'm just glad I could help you out. I've been where you've been before. My life has never been put together in the slightest, and there was a time when I had no place to go. I really could have used some help, and I want to be that person for you." He said softly, looking over at you.

"Well, I know I'm not much, but I'm here, and I can be the support you need. We can help each other." You offer him a gentle smile.

"I like the sound of that, Y/n, thank you." You lean over and give him a quick hug. 

"I'll see you on your lunch break, then. Let me go make your coffee really quick." You went in and unlocked the doors, making Dean a brown sugar latte and grabbed him a scone before bringing it out to him. "Have a good day at work." I reach through the window and ruffle his hair before heading back inside to tackle the day.

Jo was the next person scheduled to come in, and you hoped it was one of those rare days that she was actually on time. You had talked to her many times before about her punctuality, but it never seemed to stick with her. She was your best friend, and you didn't want to have to reprimand her, but it seemed that it was going to have to come to that. Thankfully, she was on time today, and you didn't have to say anything to her.

"Thank god my car started." She said as she walked in, clocking in on the computer. "I was scared she wasn't gonna crank. I really need a new car."

"Well, you're here, that's all that matters. Today's a Wednesday, so I'm expecting it to be a good day for us. This is usually our dead day, so I think it should be okay with just the two of us until eleven when Maddison comes in."

The day went off without a hitch, the customers were nice, it was a slow day, and everything seemed peaceful. That is, until the end of your shift. Dean was on his lunch break and he was waiting for you to clock out so he could take you home. He didn't mind hanging out in the coffee shop, as he found it rather peaceful. The front door dinged, signaling that there was a customer inside. "Hey, welcome to Chuck's! We'll be right w-" You broke off as you stared up at the man in front of you. Michael. You could feel your heart pounding out your chest as he glared down at you. You hadn't seen him in nearly two months, what made him want to come confront you now?

"We need to talk." He said gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest. He was 6'3 and he towered over you. It was something that had always intimidated you, especially when you were together.

"We have nothing to talk about. You need to leave." You tried to make your voice sound strong and determined, but it came out as just a small squeak. You hated the affect he had on you. For years he made you feel small, and even after the break up, he could still make you feel that way.

"Oh we have plenty to talk about, Y/n. Like how one day you just changed the locks to the apartment and had all of my stuff sitting out in the hall?"

"And you're just now wanting to talk about this, huh? You had nearly two months to reach out to me and to talk about this, but you picked now as the prime opportunity? When I'm at work?"

"Oh please," He scoffed. "You can hardly call this a job. Besides, I've been busy with other things." Dean's head perked up at the sound of arguing. He looked over at you and Michael. He could clearly tell you were in distress.

"Michael, just fucking leave. You're not welcomed here. Our relationship is over and there's absolutely nothing for us to talk about. You cheated, you were abusive, you were a shitty ass boyfriend. What else do you want me to say? I've listed a billion reasons as to why we broke up and you still can't accept that."

"Don't speak to me like that." He grabbed your wrist. "I guess I better teach you some manners." You try to pull away from his grasp. Before you could even shout for help, a fist connected with Michael's jaw. 

Dean looked pissed as he grabbed Michael by the shirt, slamming him against the wall. "What kind of pathetic coward lays hands on a woman?" He growled as he punched him again. "Come near Y/n ever again, and I swear to God himself, there will not be anything stopping me from beating you within an inch of your sad life. Got it?!"

You had never seen Dean so angry before, let alone get physical with someone. "And what's it to you, huh?! Why the hell do you care for some whore so much? Oh, I get it, you're fucking her, huh?" Michael laughed, throwing his head back.

Dean said nothing in return as he punched him once more before throwing him out to door. "Don't ever come near her again." Dean snarled before going to check on you. "Are you alright? He didn't hurt you, did he? I swear to God-"

"Dean. . ." You hugged him tightly. "I'm okay, he didn't hurt me. . . Thank you for sticking up for me." You whisper, tears in your eyes. Maddison and Jo watched as Dean wrapped his arms around you protectively. 

"No one's going to hurt my best girl on my watch, I promise you that." He said lowly, gently rubbing your back. "I'm guessing he's your ex boyfriend?"

"Yeah, he is. . . I thought I was finally free of him, but he keeps popping back up like an infectious disease." You were holding back tears, not wanting to cry in front of Dean.

"C'mon sweetheart, let's get out of here." He wrapped his arm around you and led you out to his car. "Do you need me to stay with you? I can tell Bobby something came up." 

You shook your head gently. "No, that's okay. . . I don't want to impose. I'll be okay until you get off work tonight. . . Honestly, I don't even what to think about what just happened. And it doesn't even surprise me that he came here. I guess I was just hoping he'd forget about me." You ramble on, looking at your hands.

"You wouldn't be imposing, sugar." He said, his voice soft and gentle. "If you need me, I'm here, okay? There's not much goin' on at the shop today, so Bobby can afford to be on his own for the rest of the day."

You felt tears brim your eyes as you kept looking at your hands, refusing to look Dean in the eye. "I-I could use some company. . . If t-that's okay." You whispered quietly. Dean tilts your head up gently with his finger so you would look at him.

"I'll stay with you as long as you need, darlin'." He then surprised you by kissing your head. He was so caring and gentle with you, which was something you weren't used to. He drove back to the house, letting you pick the music for the drive. Once you got back, he called Bobby and explained the situation before following you inside. He grabbed some blankets and popped some popcorn. "So, what movie should we watch? Comedy, rom-com, action?" 

"You really don't have to do this for me, Dean. . ." You felt like a burden. You made Dean call out of work just so he could sit here and watch a movie with you. You were an awful friend and roommate.

"You're right, I don't have to, but I want to. . . You're my best friend, Y/n, I want to make sure that you're okay. You've had a stressful day, and you need to unwind a bit. Plus, work was slow, wasn't much for me to do. I'd much rather sit here with my favorite girl and cheer her up." He sits down beside you, draping his arm on the back of the couch. 

You leaned into his side, resting your head on his shoulder as you let the tears flow. "I-I just want to be rid of him. He never let's me have any peace."

"Shh," Dean whispered softly, running his fingers through your hair. "I'm here sweetheart. . . He won't hurt you as long as I'm around, okay?" He kissed your head again, making you feel comfort. Storm jumped up on the couch, settling himself in your lap, purring softly. "See, darlin'? Even Storm's here to help you." That made the tears stream down your face harder. It felt like you couldn't breathe. Everything that you had held in from the break up came bursting out all at once, despite your attempts at pushing it down. Dean held you in his arms as you cried. "Breathe, Y/n, I need you to breathe for me, okay?" He murmured gently. You tried to breathe, but it just came out as choked sobs. Your body was shaking as you cried. Dean let you know that he was here, and that you were safe. You knew he was right. Being in his arms was the safest place for you. You knew that Dean would never hurt you, and that he would do everything in his power to protect you. 

Once you had calmed down, you found your voice. "Thank you for being here." Your voice was raw and hoarse from crying. Dean didn't mention it, he just smiled softly, kissing your temple.

"Of course, sweetheart. What are friends for?" He continued to run his fingers through your hair, as he could tell that's what was keeping you grounded. "We don't have to go out tonight, we can go some other time, I'm sure that you're tired after the day you've had."

You thought it over for a moment. "Actually, I think I still want to go out tonight. . . I just need to feel normal, and show that what he did doesn't get to me." You state confidently.

Dean grins at your confidence. "That's my girl." He let you get ready for your night out with him. You picked a pair faded ripped jeans from your draw, a black blouse, and a black leather jacket. You combed through your hair, trying to find a style you liked, eventually settling on having it braided. You came out of your room with a smile. Dean let out a low whistle as he saw you.

"You clean up nicely, darlin'." He grins. He was wearing a green flannel over a black shirt that fit him nicely and a pair of faded blue jeans. You couldn't help but smile at the compliment. 

"Thanks, De. Shall we get going?" You grab you wallet as Dean grabs his keys.

"Let's go." He smiles, resting a hand on the small of your back as he leads you out the door. You were very aware of his hand against your back. But you shouldn't be thinking about that. Dean was your friend and roommate. You couldn't risk anything. You slid into the Impala as Dean going into the drivers seat. You grinned as the car roared to life. The car was absolutely gorgeous, and you'd love to have an old car like this. That is, if you still drove. Past pains rear its ugly head into your thoughts, making you think of things you wish you could forget. You push it aside. Tonight was about having fun with your best friend.

You showed the bouncer your ID and you were let into the bar with Dean. It was packed since it was karaoke night. You and Dean slid up to the bar, you ordered your favorite drink and Dean got a whiskey and coke. "So, ya thinking about gettin' up there and singing?" Dean smirked as he looked to you.

"Me? Nah, I can't really sing." You shrugged.

"One, that's bullshit. I hear you singing in the shower all the time and you sound amazing. And two, no one who sings karaoke can sing. I'll do it with you if you sing." He offered you up a smile. You could never resist that boyish smile he had.

"I hate you, I hope you know that." Despite your words, you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face.

"Say what you want sweetheart. But hey, you get to pick the song and I can't complain."

"Oh really?" You smirked. "So if I picked a Taylor Swift song, you wouldn't say anything?"

"Hey, I can get down with TSwizzle, okay?" Dean held up his hands in defense. You couldn't help the laughter that racked through your body. 

"You did not just say TSwizzle-" You continued to laugh, Dean joining in.

"All I'm sayin' is that you can pick whatever song you like."

You went up to the karaoke machine, scrolling through until you found the perfect duet for you two. I Remember Everything by Zach Bryan and Kacey Musgraves. "We're up next." You grin as you pull Dean towards the stage. Dean followed you up on stage, grabbing the mic. "Ready?" Dean nods as the song starts. Despite having never heard the song, he did it justice. You never knew Dean could sing. When you sang your parts together, Dean smiled over at you, his eyes gleaming. Once the song was over, he helped you down from the stage.

"Y/n, you were amazing! I knew you had a good voice, but damn, that was beautiful." He praised you, gently patting your shoulder.

"Me? Dean, I had no idea you could sing like that. You were fantastic!" You gently punch his shoulder.

Dean chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck as the tip of his ears turn pink. "Thank you, sweetheart, I appreciate it." He grinned.

"Aaand I think that some of the girls over there found your singing attractive." You chuckled as you looked over to a group of girls that were eyeballing Dean. "You should go talk to them!" You encouraged.

"Nah," He shook his head. "This night is about you and me, and celebrating our friendship." He gave you a smile. You couldn't help the small butterflies you felt in your stomach. Instead of going off with a girl, he wanted to spend time with you. But at the same time, you felt bad, because you felt like you were keeping him from having a fun time.

You felt like screaming at yourself, because you always did this. Every time there was something good going in your life, you found a way to get in your head and overthink things. You wished you could turn those voices in your head off. Sometimes those voices got particularly loud, especially in times like these. You tried to push them away and have a good time with Dean, but you couldn't help it.

"You okay, Y/n? You got really quiet all of a sudden." Dean said softly. Damnit, he knew you too well.

"Oh, yeah, it's um, it's just been a long day, y'know?" You cleared your throat, looking up at him.

"We can head home if you'd like?" He suggested, tilting his head to the side.

"No no, I'd hate to be a bother. You look like you're having so much fun, and I don't want to ruin that." You spoke softly.

"Sweetheart, if you're tired or you just don't feel up to being here anymore, you can tell me. I won't be upset. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or feel like you have to stay for my sake. Besides, I don't care where we are, as long as we're together, I'm happy to spend time with you."

You gave him a soft smile. "I just don't think I'm in the right headspace right now." You sighed. "It's just been a long day with a lot going on. . . I promise to make it up to you."

"Don't worry about it, Y/n, we can just spend some time together and watch a movie if you'd like?"

"I'd really like that, De. . . Thank you." You whispered gently. Dean ruffled your hair and went to pay for the tab. You rode home in a comfortable silence as Dean hummed along to the radio. You were stuck in your own head again, per usual. You were leaned against the window, feeling the cool glass on your cheek.

"Are you sure everything's alright, sweetheart?" He asked, looking over to you. "You've been awfully quiet."

"I dunno, I'm just really struggling mentally today. After everything that happened this afternoon, I just feel so. . . empty?"

"I get it darlin'. What do you need? Do you need some time by yourself, or do you wanna curl up on the couch with me and watch some Dr. Sexy MD?" He questioned, his voice gentle.

"I think that spending some time with you could help. . ." You couldn't help but smile. You felt safe with Dean, and even though you were having a tough time, you knew that everything was going to be okay as long as you were with him.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x yn #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester #supernatural au #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester au #coffee shop au #jo harvelle #chuck shurley #sam winchester #castiel #jack kline #cinnamon and sugar #supernatural fluff #gabriel supernatural #castiel imagine #sam winchester imagine #supernatual

[amuseoffyre]

Mulling on the way Stede and Ed have both learned to talk around their desires and wishes, whether as a defence mechanism or because past experience has made them cautious about expressing themselves. This has led them to have very different ways of saying what they need in very carefully constructed way and sometimes, missing what the other is saying entirely.

Since it got long, I'll show mercy :)

I've written before about the way Stede leans into the passive voice in season one. He doesn't directly express an opinion, coming at it from the side so he can't be blamed if it's a bad suggestion.

A prime example is when he tries to dissuade Ed from going to the party by describing how bad it'll be (from his perspective) or when Ed's considering leaving and instead of asking him to stay, he says Ed doesn't need to rush off and "we're all enjoying your company".

Based on his past experience, it's no small wonder, when his every suggestion to his father was shot down with scorn and disdain. His likes and interests were mocked relentlessly and constantly criticised. Even Mary shouted at him about the ship which - he thought - was his idea of the best future for him with his family. For him, expressing how he's feeling is something that can be weaponised against him.

He not only hides his feelings, but when he's feeling especially bad, he hides himself as well. He leaves situations when he's distressed or unhappy: leaving his family, hiding in his cabin in 1x01, retreating in the party in 1x05, going back to the ship in 1x08, returning home in 1x09.

The one time he does express himself verbally to Ed, before the academy, he's mid-retreat to the ship. He's angry and upset and insulted by Calico Jack and is taking himself elsewhere, but Ed stops him and says he should stay.

And this is where I chew on their communication mismatches, because Stede has been sitting and sitting and sitting all day, all the negative stuff building, stoked by Jack's cheerfully applied passive aggression and manipulation. He's been smiling through it for Ed's sake and when he loses his temper, he falls into the same pattern of not being direct. He doesn't point the finger at Jack for his behaviour, which has been the trigger the whole time. He tells Ed "I don't like who you are around this guy", his focus being 'this guy' who has caused this change in Ed's behaviour.

But Ed hears it as something being wrong with him specifically. He doesn't hear that it's Jack's influence of behaviour. His own self-esteem is so brittle, he immediately takes this as being fully his fault and when he's given the choice to stay with Stede or go with Jack, he leaves and says "You were always going to see what I am."

This not only cements Stede's conviction that saying what he thinks aloud will get a negative response (in this case, Ed leaving), but also solidifies the fact that Ed is fully convinced that Stede would eventually come to dislike him as much as Ed dislikes himself. Neither of them said what the other thinks they said, but because it's informed by their own trauma and issues, they radically misinterpret the other's meaning.

Like Stede, Ed edges around directness as much as he possibly can. Given what we've seen of the people from his past, it's clear that honesty and earnestness are subject to mockery at best and, at worst, the thing he cares about will be taken away from him.

Instead, to avoid the risk of that, he tends to drop hints, make roundabout suggestions, uses metaphors and allegories, and tries to nudge people to understanding what he means/wants.

He doesn't want to leave but doesn't know if he's welcome to stay, so he just makes noises that he's thinking about moving on so an invitation will be extended. He doesn't care about the invitation to the party, but maybe, pfft, not like he's bothered, but they could go. Whatever.

If it does get to a point where he's upset he - like Stede - will try to remove himself from a situation and hide away. It happens in 1x06 during the fuckery, 1x10 inside the pillow fort, 2x04 at Mary and Anne's.

It's very telling that the times he does let his guard down a bit, it's when someone goes after him. He and Stede have their most direct conversations when Ed is hiding under a yellow blanket, even if Stede is still bemused by the 'doggy heaven' metaphor.

A lot of the time they're both like ships passing in the night when it comes to communicating because they're both trying so hard not to show too much vulnerability. It's there on the beach at the naval academy when Stede tries to deflect Ed from China by pointing out "it's quite far". It's there in Ed's fishing metaphor which has so many layers and Stede has no idea wtf is going on because he has none of the context.

Stede has learned to be more direct in S2, so much more so that he actually expresses his feelings and emotions aloud for the first time. He talks about it with Lucius, Zheng and Anne, even before he and Ed have their breakthrough in 1x04 when, at Anne and Mary's, Stede frankly and directly explains himself to Ed and it helps them get back on an even keel.

Ed isn't quite there yet, though, and this is why the fall out in 1x07 comes out of nowhere for Stede because he's missing a lot of the information that Ed has threaded into the metaphor.

He knows Ed doesn't want to be a pirate, but the subtext all through the fisherman conversation is like they're having two different conversations. Stede is being so much more direct by pointing out that Ed is panicking and offering options, but Ed is deflecting as a defence again.

What's lovely is that by the final scene, they're sort of getting to the same page. Awkwardly, tripping each other up a bit on the way, but they're getting there, realising there's a lot more to each other than they had understood before. The entire exchange has so much layered into it.

Stede: so we're innkeepers now? Ed: I thought we could give it a go. Unless you're having second thoughts. Stede: I'm not. Ed: It's a bit of a shithole. Stede: It's a fixer-upper. Good bones.

On one hand, it's about the building and oh the symbolism of him wanting to make a place where people choose to stay with him is aaaaaa.

On the other hand, it's both about Ed himself and their relationship. Ed couching his meaning in metaphors again and this time, Stede picks up the meaning, even if he doesn't fully get all the nuances of it. (also teehehehe 'good bones'. I bet there are)

They're working their way towards better communication, a little bit at a time. They've both had their lowest ebb, run in panic, and learned from it. There's still a lot of trauma and defence mechanisms to unpick, but they're getting there.

Now if Stede could stop bottling up his trauma and hiding them in his wine-cellar of the things, that'd be great.

#ofmd #ofmd meta #ed teach #blackbeard #stede bonnet #adopt our crew

[beesmygod]

As someone who watched like two somerton vids and didn't outright hate them, I've been mulling over what exactly got him this many fans, how did he even fool me. I feel like it might be Because He's So Monotone And Boring.

His presentation is so bland and dry, it Feels like you're trapped in an hour long university course. But he's talking about history, queer history at that. No matter how dubious and sometimes just offensive the "analysis" could be, I could see someone getting disgusted at anyone being critical of his work, just because of the subject matter. He's used his own identity aganist any criticism before, so he must be aware. Why should he properly light his camera when he's talking such impooortant issues? His delivery is so bad, but it gives this like, clinical feeling, like he's reading from a textbook (other people's actual work). He's not doing anything flashy or with any flair or effort, so he muuust just be really focused on the facts right? If he can't even get a good haircut, than all his energy must be in "research", clearly. It's like his whole channel is solely made for impressionable young queer people who Want to look educated, they want to Look like they care, but in reality, wouldn't even look at the sources if he ever posted them.

idk, maybe this ask was all nonsense, virtue signaling might be real and works and our peers were deeply uncurious all along.

"virtue signaling" is a stupid phrase that was trotted out for like, the most teensy tiny means for people to try to identify one another through a text medium but there has to be a word for when someone appeals to minority. like "they are sending me DEATH THREATS!!!!! because i am GAY!!!!!!!!!" is such an obvious lie that people immediately, apparently threw themselves onto grenades for out of some kind of deeply pathetic idea of solidarity that revolves around never questioning the intentions of people "on your side".

i think people just fucking suck for this one. like i cannot imagine a situation, even without knowing that he plagiarized, where i would have paid him money to continue making these vids. there is no excuse for paying him that holds up to any scrutiny considering his writing sounds like 5 people writing for him to totally fumble the delivery on. because it is that lol

[ancientwastedlores]

Getaway Car [T.Swift-inspired LOKI Fic]

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Ask: I am OBSESSED with your stories <3 <3 <3 could you write a Getaway Car themes fic about Loki and reader when it's them against the Avengers for some reasons, they get away together and reader thinks Loki will betray them so they betray him first? All angst and pain (. )(. ) thx <3 <3 <3

Note: HELLO, I know it's v late and been a while. But I heard Taylor's new album, and the need to write awakened. Thought I'd revisit my old requests for some inspo and found this one I've been wanting to do for a while. Hope you like it! And leave me your TTPD requests as well <3

WORD COUNT: 2756

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Getaway Car

I’m in a getaway car I left you at the motel bar Took the money in the bag and stole the keys  That was the last time you ever saw me… 

Partners in crime. Brothers in arms. That’s how the Avengers saw you and Loki, forever up to some mischief together. The way you both shared one mind was insane, and while Tony was glad it gave you a battle advantage, that brilliance was too often used for useless pranks around the facility, tiring out Steve Rogers and Bruce Banner the most. 

So what? They were harmless. These were ‘morale boosting’ and ‘team building’ activities, as per you. If anything, it brought the team closer together. And your pranks were your way of keeping the Avengers always alert and ready for danger. You had endless justifications. 

‘When do the excuses end?’ Tony once asked you.  ‘When do Earth’s mighty Avengers stop screaming about grasshoppers in their pancakes? It’s a protein-rich breakfast.’ 

Meanwhile, Loki never scrambled for a justification. He did things because he wanted to, and the chiding and complaining only encouraged him. Together, you made life hell for villains and heroes alike. You and Loki were the first response to an attack because of the way you could significantly weaken the enemy's psyche, prepping them to be an easy kill for the rest of the Avengers. 

You made a good team. A powerful one. And while your pranks kept things light, the Avengers were not unaware that if you decided to turn against them, you would succeed in wiping them out. 

___________________________________________

You and Loki weren’t the type for meetings, which made things easy for Tony that evening. In the bi-monthly meetup in his grand tower, he brought up a subject he’d been mulling over for quite some time. 

‘Do we have any reason to suspect they are plotting something against us?’ Steve asked. 

‘We don’t want to assume the wrong thing and risk actually inspiring them.’ Natasha said. 

‘You see, there’s the problem!’ Tony barked, ‘Why are we so afraid of them? They’re supposed to be on our side, dependable and loyal. Instead we’re afraid of pissing them off!?’

‘What are you saying exactly, Tony?’ Bruce asked. 

Tony sighed frustratedly and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I don’t know. I just never want to be in a situation where we’re compromised from the inside. They’re too close to each other, and they know things we do not. I don’t like that.’ 

‘Fine. We’ll give them other tasks to keep them occupied separately,’ Natasha suggested. 

‘Like it’s school?’ Bruce said. 

‘I truly think Y/N was far more focused before Loki came along.’ Tony said. 'She was responsible. Tame.'

‘We’re starting to sound like parents, ’ Natasha said. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing, but if you’re worried, we’ll occupy her in the lab and him in training facilities.’ 

Tony thought this was a good idea.   ___________________________________________

The next morning, at breakfast, all the Avengers received an agenda sheet. It was placed on their seat at the dining table, and you were taken aback. 

‘Since when do we have a timetable?’ you asked. 

‘Since I saw things slacking around here,’ Tony declared. ‘We’ve got new trainees, new equipment, and new space stuff to unpack, and we’re doing nothing.’ 

‘You mean Loki and I are doing nothing.’ 

‘If the shoe fits,’ Tony said. 

The agenda was clearly made for you, and the rest of the team was in on it. You looked through your sheet - which honestly wasn’t that bad. You just didn’t like being taken by surprise. Mornings in the lab testing Tony’s “space stuff.” Afternoons running any one of the Avengers’ many charity initiatives - education, rehab, food drives, what have you. And evenings pulling apart and examining weapons scavenged from aliens kindly brought to you by either Carol Danvers or Gamora. 

And then you picked up Loki’s (who was sleeping late as usual). Mornings in the training facility training new recruits. Afternoons doing weapons testing with Tony. And evenings at any of the charity drives. 

This was deliberate. You couldn’t fathom why the Avengers would play such games, but you weren’t about to be taken for a ride.  ___________________________________________

Later in the morning, when Loki finally woke from his prolonged slumber, you told him about Tony’s passive-aggressive comment and the new agenda sheets. His green eyes flickered with the same spark of rebellion that mirrored your thoughts. 

"Why the sudden change, you think?" Loki questioned. 

"Control," you muttered, piecing the agenda with the prior night's conversations you had eavesdropped on through the vents—a risky yet fruitful habit. "They fear us, Loki. They're splitting us up, weakening our position."

Loki's smirk was as sly as ever, an idea brewing in the back of his mind. As he leaned closer, the proximity sent a shiver down your spine, and the air between you charged with a dangerous excitement.

"Then perhaps, my dear..." His voice dropped to a seductive whisper, his breath a warm caress against your ear. "...it's time we teach them the folly of their paranoia."

The words, scandalous and provocative, ignited something within you. Your heart thudded violently in your chest, a wild drumbeat echoing in the hollow of your ribs. It was the thrill of the forbidden, the allure of stepping into the shadows with Loki by your side, not just as a partner in crime but as a co-conspirator in a game most perilous.

His eyes locked onto yours, green fires that burned with mischief and an unspoken promise of chaos. It was an unholy proposal, stepping over a line you knew well but had never dared to cross before. And yet, as your heart raced and your thoughts spun, you realized that the decision had already been made in that fleeting heartbeat.

"Yes," you breathed out, the word less a reply and more a surrender to the exhilarating unknown. "Let's make them regret ever doubting us."

With that, your fate was sealed. 

___________________________________________

Under the guise of your newly assigned tasks, you and Loki meticulously orchestrated your daring plan. Each task provided unique opportunities to prepare for the heist without arousing suspicion among the other Avengers.

In the mornings, Loki was stationed at the training facility, instructing new recruits in the art of combat and deception. Utilizing his godly charisma and depth of experience, he subtly wove lessons on unpredictability and misdirection into his training, skills that would prove essential in the upcoming heist. While training these recruits, Loki also discreetly surveyed the facility's layout and security details, noting any potential vulnerabilities.

In the afternoons, his task shifted to weapons testing with Tony. These sessions, fraught with the clang of metal and the buzz of new technology, provided Loki with the perfect cover to engage Tony in technical discussions, subtly extracting information about the latest security updates and the locations of key research projects, including the cloaking device. Loki used his wit to keep Tony focused on the tasks at hand, ensuring his own activities went unnoticed.

Evenings saw Loki participating in various charity drives. These engagements offered him a public face of benevolence; all the while, he used these outings to establish alibis and build trust within the community and among his team, masking his true intentions under the guise of philanthropy.

Your mornings were spent in Tony’s lab, ostensibly testing new equipment designated aptly as “space stuff.” This task was critical because it allowed you direct access to some of the most advanced technology within the Avengers’ arsenal. While your official task was to test and report on these devices, you utilized this time to familiarize yourself with the lab’s security systems and to map out a discreet path to the prototype device. Your expertise in technology helped you to handle the equipment convincingly, all while preparing for the eventual theft.

Just like Loki, you used your time at the afternoon charity drives to make connections with community members and the other Avengers, enhancing your image as a dedicated member. This wasn’t a farce - you did care about the community. But right now, you had an underlying feeling of anger and hurt that the Avengers you gave your life to were doubting your intentions. So, you networked and built connections that could be useful for creating diversions or obtaining information indirectly related to the Avengers’ operational security.

The evenings were dedicated to examining and dismantling alien weaponry, and this time was invaluable not only for understanding potential alien tech that could be repurposed to aid in your escape but also for ensuring you were updated on the latest extraterrestrial technologies that might impact your plan. ___________________________________________

Days turned into weeks. You and Loki could only ever meet at night, and though you expected a whole day of events to make you too tired to plan a heist, you were actually excited. These secret meetings were charged with an electric anticipation that both thrilled and unnerved you. What started as a time to go over your respective findings turned into something far more intimate. As you poured over maps and schematics, your discussions often went into other things. Your pasts, your stories, your motives for joining the Avengers… everything you both usually kept hidden under bravado or mischief.

Loki’s usual façade of indifference was replaced by a passionate intensity about your joint mission. It was during one of these evenings, while reviewing security layouts, that he looked up from the papers, his gaze piercing. “You know, in all my years of schemes and conquests,” he confessed, his voice a low rumble, “I’ve never felt quite as... exhilarated as I do now, planning this with you.”

These words struck a chord within you, igniting a warmth that spread through your chest. 

Nights passed… you sat close to each other, naturally relaxing into each other. Soon, you moved the meetings from the facility terrace to each other’s bedrooms, comfortably laying in bed and discussing everything and nothing. 

“I’m the only kid in my family to get a job’ you once revealed. ‘And now I feel like their lives all depend on me.’ 

It’s true that you were more focused and serious before Loki came in. But that was because you never allowed yourself to do anything else but meet the expectations of your family. Loki was a breath of fresh air. The child you wished you could be for once. 

You didn’t have to explain all that to him. After you spilled your secret, Loki pulled you closer to him and stroked your head softly as you fell asleep. As you drifted off in his safe and warm embrace, you thanked Tony for his harsh comments. Were it not for him, you and Loki might never have bonded this way. 

But a day after that fact occurred to you, your mind began to wander. Was this love destined, or was it just something that happened due to an unfavorable circumstance? 

Did he realize he was in danger? Were you his escape plan?

With this deepening connection came a vulnerability that was new to both of you. The fear of betrayal, so ingrained in both your natures, loomed large as the day of the heist approached. Could you truly trust Loki with your heart, just as you were trusting him with your life? 

___________________________________________

The night before the heist, as you both sat back after hours of meticulous planning, Loki turned to you with a seriousness that was rare for him. “No matter what happens,” he said, his voice steady and sincere, “I want you to know that I... I value this. Us. More than I thought possible.”

His admission was a confession, and in the dim light of your secluded meeting spot, you allowed yourself a moment to truly look at him—not as the God of Mischief or an Avenger, but as a man who had unexpectedly become so much more. The stakes were higher now. 

Could this connection you created in the night - in the seclusion of the terrace and the safe confines of your bedroom - last in daylight? 

___________________________________________

4 PM. 

Your heart hammered as you bypassed the final security protocols and laid your hands on the prototype device, its field of light flickering with the promise of freedom. With the device secured, you slipped away to meet Loki at the designated rendezvous point, ready to disappear. As per today’s schedule, the Avengers were all at a school for at-risk youths, so it would be hours before anybody even realized what had happened. 

As you ran, the back of the backpack hitting you with every step, you felt a sense of dread in your stomach. Why didn’t this feel exhilarating? Why didn’t it feel freeing? 

You reached the entrance and saw Loki in your getaway car - a dark green sports Jaguar with the top town. The feeling of unease did not rest when you saw his face. The plan had gone too smoothly. Was it all too convenient? 

Your own thoughts a traitor to you, your heart sank as you opened those doors and jumped into his car. He put his lips to yours in absolute delight, barely able to stop smiling as he planted kiss after kiss on your face. 

"Are you with me, truly?" you found yourself asking, voice edged with a fear you hated to admit.

Loki's expression softened, a hand reaching out to cup your cheek. "Always," he reassured. 

The escape was a blur—for a moment, you forgot your reservations and reveled in the thrill of the wind in your hair. It was so romantic. So powerful. As night closed in and you left the sparkling city, the car drove into the darkness, but your heart was never lighter. His hand was on your thigh, and the music in your mind swelled as you imagined a whole new life with him. You were his savior, and he was yours. 

But the high soon crashed. 

As you reached the motel you decided to spend the night at, you looked over at him, and your heart sank again. The love was only alive in safe spaces. In comfortable places where it was nobody else’s business. 

You got out of the car and checked into your room - cash only. The room was nothing grand - it didn’t have to be. It would suffice until your contact made you fake passports, and you could get the hell out of the country. 

Loki did suggest simply teleporting the pair of you to Asgard, but that would hardly be a safe place to hide. And besides… why would he make such a ridiculous suggestion? Because he expected it to be shut down? Was your plan - your dream - to run away to somewhere in Asia and live a simple life actually his plot all along? And which god would agree to a simple life? Was it a ploy to make you feel safe before he betrayed you and left with the cloaking device? 

Questions upon questions filled your head. You weren’t sure if you were being your own worst enemy, so you decided to sleep on it. Loki asked if you wanted to get a drink at the motel bar, but you just wanted to creep under the covers and sleep the adrenaline off. He didn’t protest - he wanted you to be comfortable. 

It only made you more paranoid. Why didn’t he care enough to insist on a celebratory drink? Was he going to take this time to plot his escape? 

If betrayal were inevitable, you’d strike first. 

As soon as you heard the door click shut, you leaped out of bed and got dressed. You grabbed the bag with the device and the car keys and ran to the door. Then you paused… if you left right now, Loki wouldn’t stop looking for you. And nowhere on earth would be safe from a god. 

With a heavy heart, you called the Avengers facility from the motel landline. 

___________________________________________

You watched from the shadows as Loki drank his whiskey all alone. Your heart ached as you turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared to life. Maybe it wasn’t too late… maybe you could grab him from the motel bar, drag him to the car, and keep running. 

Those hopes were dashed when you saw the Iron Suit’s unmistakable lights draw closer to the motel. For a moment you looked back at Loki to mouth a silent apology. He managed to lock eyes with you for a split second, confused and hurt, before the roof crashed in on him. 

Nothing good starts in a getaway car. 

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I hope this is similar to what you wanted <3

Feel free to leave requests here, and you can find my Masterlist here <3

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x you #loki x you #loki x reader #loki fanfic #taylor swift #taylor swift reputation #getaway car #loki marvel #mcu loki #loki laufeyson #tva loki

[tired-reader-writer]

@ship-of-skitties Ask and ye shall receive.

More thoughts swirling in my head regarding my OC Horaia and the AU she's written into.

I realized that the draft was getting inordinately long as I'm in the process of typing this damn thing (it's been more than half an hour of nonstop typing as of the moment I'm retroactively acting this paragraph and readmore in the draft, send help) so I'll put the rest under the cut:

I have talked before of how Horaia had been more yearning than person her whole entire life (until she got her memories back in full that is, and even then it's not as though the longing disappeared entirely it just... settled. more on that elaborated here), right? It's a huge component of her character concept. That emptiness. That disconnect from the rest of the world. The amorphous ineffable sort of want. The hollow in her heart. The sheer loneliness from the secure sort of knowledge that nobody in this world can understand her fully.

“God occupies me as a shapeless hunger.”

And y'know what said hunger/longing/yearning/want/loneliness reminded me of?

The God of Darkness.

His story is basically that he'd been alone for so long, aching for companionship that'd break this loneliness, until he met the Goddess of Light and had a bunch of kids with her, and even though I don't think this was stated explicitly I have to wonder if his desire to see more life be brought forth from Ewigeliebe and Geduldh's union was in part fuelled by the memory of said loneliness. Anything to lift it. Anything to expel it. It's not enough, never enough, he must simply try to make the world less empty just so maybe the silent void won't drive him to despair.

An all-consuming sort of want, if you will.

Just like a black hole.

It's also said that the reason Royal Academy students gotta wear predominantly black clothes is a reference to the God of Darkness, represents and symbolizes the desire to consume any and all knowledge like darkness itself— though I can't seem to find a direct reference of this on the English wiki. I saw it in the light novels, I swear I fucking saw it.

Anyways, kid Horaia. She hears about the story of the gods and latches real hard on the God of Darkness's story in particular because the shaking crying little animal part of her psyche (the one constantly clawing at the back of her throat, desperate to scream out loud, the manifestation of this nameless grief for things she won't ever get back) relates to him. The darkness, the all-consuming, the black hole— a gravitational phenomenon so strong it devours everything and lets nothing escape its grasp.

So at night, she prays.

Or more like desperately pleads to the God of Darkness for answers, girl's not doing okay.

She asks:

What do you do with this hunger? What do you do with this desire? This emptiness, the hollow in your heart?

She asks:

What do you do with this desolation? What do you do with this loneliness, this grief of solitude?

And there is no answer but the silence from the dark of the room but she thinks she feels the weight of a gaze, a heaviness in the air, almost solid enough to cut through.

Maybe.

Some of you who has read one of the two drabbles I put forth may remember Myne's mulling on the subject of monsters, how Horaia had labelled herself one with something like pride.

Monere to monstrum to monster.

To admonish, to warn, to advise.

Portent, sign, divine omen.

Monster, monster, monster.

Aka girl keeps receiving warnings and visions in her dreams a la Hildegard von Bingen and becomes an omen in of itself because well what else is she gonna become? Carrier of divine will, one who communicates the gods' desires to the earth. Like Myne (Enheduanna) the Saint who carries the will of mortals to the divine in order to retrieve blessings and protections from them Horaia is almost a Prophet by the gods' design.

Schlaftraum is her patron deity for reasons I've stated before (though I'd be more than willing to say them again if y'all so wish) but the God of Darkness is also among those she honors the most.

On that note it does trip me up that Schlaftraum is Ewigeliebe's subordinate and not the God of Darkness's, like, the dream/sleep thing is already close enough to the divine domain of night, I always have to do a double take whenever I remember that the God of Dreams isn't a subordinate of the God of Darkness whose cloak symbolizes the night sky but oh well. It's fine. It's fucking fine. Don't think too much about it, argh!

Where was I going with this? Oh, yeah, Horaia's intimate bond with the divine, with the God of Darkness in particular.

Maybe she encounters the shrines on the Academy grounds. Maybe the first shrine she finds is of the Dark God.

Maybe it's the only shrine she frequents to pray to, because he's the only deity among the Seven that she really feels a solid connection to until she's pushed to do otherwise. Maybe. The details still aren't ironed out, I'm just chucking pasta at the wall to see what sticks for now.

Either way though, let me jump onto a tangent regarding her Gender Identity Shenanigans™ and how that intertwines with her affinity to the God of Darkness: y'know how the husbands are often compared to the Dark God and their (first) wives the Light Goddess?

Yeahhhh no. The labels got flipped with Horaia and Ferdinand. Because of course they did. I will not elaborate for now bc my brain is starting to fry with all this typing when will I be free aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Myne is also dragged into this bullshit dynamic bc of course, she's most affiliated with Mestionora and while adoptive daughter isn't quite the same a one and only grandchild it could plausibly be stretched as similar, ey?

Myne-as-Mestionora may or may not guide Horaia-as-God-of-Darkness to the Wisdom to take over Yurgenschmidt—

Like I said. Still stamping details out. I originally hadn't planned for Horaia to potentially become Zent? But ah well let's just roll with it I'm not in control of the damn AU anymore.

My thoughts are becoming jumbled and I couldn't really find a way to incorporate this seamlessly so here it is as a bonus:

Horaia pleading, I cannot bear this world a moment longer.

And the God of Darkness replying, Then, child, make another.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

On that note, the God of Darkness and Goddess of Light are said to be the “progenitor of all gods” but the only deities acknowledged to be theirs are the four seasonal deities sooooo what's up with that, but it isn't quite relevant to our discussion so I'll set my theological confusion aside for now.

#ascendance of a bookworm #honzuki no gekokujou #liminal au #Horaia (OC) #god of darkness #somebody send help my brain is melting #someone out there had better enjoy this post I poured in sweat blood and tears into this #I've been sick #so yeah #liminal: the unstraying

[sugarakis-p2]

AKADMD Ch. 25

Mothman Shigaraki is the new king, so much on his shoulders and wings. Nothing better than to use Ur (Aka Ur Name x reader) to relieve his stress as he plots to destroy the Order of the Azure rose.

Warning: Possessive Mothman Shigaraki, Dabi and Lyra fluffy smuts, death, references to knotting, cussing

Captured by the Order is not so bad. Things come to a head as You fight and struggle for your people. Worse, you go into labor.

@lovingbadguys @balanceisrelative @nut-in-me-jojo

Ch24 < previous chapter

Chapter 25

The cell was nice as far as cold stone goes.

"It would have been better had we killed the children and made a stand against the Mothmen invaders. They are not that innocent, and those Mothmen were not your people," Your sister, Imogene, huffed, pacing. Scratching at her eye scars, she plops down next to you. Gently you moved her hand away from her eye.

"Scratching only makes it worse. Then it burns. I see things with this eye. What I saw made me think this is our best chance," you tell her.

"Lucky. I can't see anything out of this eye anymore. I hope it's worth it. I hope you're right. It's been an entire day. You felt those tremors? Those tremors are explosions. They always blame strangers. We are the strangers," Imogene snarked.

"Family is always worth taking a chance on. Is that not how mom raised us?" You shrugged. Casually changing the subject. There was no point in doubting yourself now. Rubbing your belly. A few hands or feet pressed against your palm. It felt like playing a game when they are not even born. You want to cry. They are so beautiful, and you haven't seen them yet. You had to stop. Otherwise, you will end up bawling.

"You barely remember her. But yes. Those were her views. Did Maude teach you that?"

"Maude and the book she left to me. Mama left a lot of little messages in it. Do you know why she named me differently from the rest of you? I've never been able to figure that out," you tell her. She looks around, then leans in.

"Because it was Pa who named you. You were his pride. Then mom died, and he gave up," Imogene shrugged. Sitting there in the cold, it is easy to mull over your past. Regrets and grief bubble to the surface. Maude scolds you for feeling pity for such a pathetic man.

"At least Shigaraki fights for what is his," Maude harrumphed in your head. Shut up! You viciously thought. You agreed, but you want it to be your thought. Not Maude's.

"I have been hearing and seeing Maude in my mind since her passing," you tell her. She should know you are going crazy. Imogene looked guilty as she stopped scratching.

"Maude is in a coma," Imogene said quickly. You process this news and are not sure if Imogene is lying to you to keep you sane or if it's true. You decide it doesn't matter in the here and now. You sign to Imogene you loved her and thank you for telling you. Blood welled in your black eye.

You felt numb around Shigaraki at first. You knew he was evil and wanted to survive. Slowly seeing a spurting open wound, you did everything possible to please him. At the center, a lonely black need to be loved and accepted. You saw yourself echo in Shigaraki and thought Maude was wrong. Love is possible. It was when he beamed with pride, and doted on you, the same way Pa used to before Mama died, is when you started to feel a healing in you begin.

"And then he got greedy and killed me. I haunt you because I have always loved you more. Because I worry for my precious little sister. Your heart will break, and you will head down the same path as Pa. You carry the last of Mama's spark. Pa was weak. He had to go. Ask Imogene," Maude coaxed in her soothing lullaby tones.

You're not even dead! The weak have no rights. I'm not weak. What? Maude is a voice in your head. One that you thought had disappeared when you discovered Maude was alive. How can she know something you don't know? Your face twisted in confusion as you turned to Imogene.

"D-d-d-did Adam or Maude kill-," your question breaks off when two men stop before the cell and peer in. The orders robes are starting to rankle you. A dying yellowed-haired man and a sleepy dark-haired one had a minor exchange before entering.

"Can the wingless queen follow us?" The dying man asked. The both of you scoff. The grubs stirred at his voice.

"But of course," you and Imogene respond simultaneously. You force yourself not to stare at your sister with the same dumbfounded look the men give you. A lot of surprises today. More importantly, ignoring the grubs. You can't let them know you're the one that's pregnant.

"Just the queen," he nervously chuckled. The grubs writhed at the sound of his voice.

"Impossible and unreasonable. It would be foolish to allow myself to be separated from the caregiver of my expectant condition," Imogene said. I shudder to think that Shigaraki might not notice if I'm gone. Imogene is that good.

"Or is the Order that fearful of a wingless Queen we must be treated like animals? You would think hundreds against two would be proper caution. Oh, how mighty," you pick up where she left off. The dark-haired one puts his hand on the dying one's shoulder and steps forward.

"I'm Aizawa. This is Toshinori, a member of the orders counsel board. Forgive our mistreatment. Of course, your guest can join us for a meal. Please follow us," He gestures. Imogene helps lift you, and you waddle down the hall after them. You will be so happy to get them out. The grubs are starting to get uppity inside you again. You signal Imogene to be on guard, both waddling after the men.

They seat you at a much shorter table for the Counsel can look down at you. A least an audience of 300 watched to witness the Counsel's mercy. The table is covered in delectables you cannot resist. See their mercy? They gave you a feast for a last meal. These people are backward. You shovel food in your mouth in the most un-ladylike fashion. Not that it could be helped. They only gave you spoons. Who knows when these pious monsters will feed you again? Your sister mimics you. Pouring water for you while you give her a roll you know she'll like. Your sister's mimicry makes you feel closer to her. It's sick, considering what you like most about Imogene is yourself. Upon reflection, maybe not. Maybe it's normal to love in many different ways.

"Don't worry. I like being you too," Imogene signed. You giggled at the shared secret. But began to consider how much of a lousy sister you are. Imogene knows you. However, she is an outsider to you.

"You are a most brattish sister. Extremely lazy. Didn't even take my lessons on manipulation to heart," Maude tsked. Lazy. Manipulation. You consider them closely.

They watched and waited until you had your fill. You've never seen these people before. Although, you recognize the high priestess from her mural at the church. Madam President, the only female member of the Order allowed to cut her hair. You assume the smug fool in a crown next to her is the king. They wait until you've had your fill before addressing you both.

"The crimes of the Wingless Queen are many," Madam president started when you interrupted.

"I like that title. Very appropriate. I'm assuming it's from Lyra. Where is she, by the way?" You ask, enjoying a large slice of strawberry and chocolate cake. You will have to steal the baker. It was odd feeding yourself. It was childish, but it made you smile when you thought of Shiggy. President scrunches her face in disapproval and annoyance at your interruption. Maude approved. Madam President continued by prattling off your many crimes, rage burning in President's eyes, much to your amusement. Not as good as the cake your sharing with Imogene, "What is the deviancy charge for again?"

"Copulation with a magical beast without the blessing of the king," She stated matter of fact. A seething rage boiled in your brain until you felt like you might explode. Maude's voice is niggling in the back.

"Some queen, if you let this bitch bully you. Mocking your king. Mocking your offspring. Do you think they will parade them around like the angel of the Order?" Maude taunted.

"That's rich. You recognize me as a Queen but not Shigaraki as a King? How arrogant to think you hold domain over all the magical beings. As for your other absurd charges, I don't recognize you as an authority to charge me with anything," you hiss back to Madam President. These people. A seething was twisting in you. The grubs are quiet as you let it knot in you.

"I know one of you is my Senpai. One of you has served the Order as a loyal member in the same high Order. It's for her we have not charged the wingless Queen," The calm voice of Hawks pipes up. The Angel of the Order is someone they parade around to reaffirm their divine authority. Imogene points at him and signs to you that one is not to be trusted. Watch out for him.

"Are we going to pretend that man is nothing more than someone you manufactured to control the gullible masses? I will tell you what your charges are," Imogene laughs. You pick up where she left off. Both work in tandem. Confusing the audience more.

"Only my charges have already had severe consequences. You murdered my mother. You murdered my siblings. You killed off a quarter of our village yearly with your greed. Then the worse atrocity. You tout beings like Hawks and other Knights as saviors and morale when you are a plague on our existence, rotting our society into obedience and apathy. It was easy for my family and our people to hate you. You have stolen our hopes, dreams, and lives. You moved the mana lines in your favor, and you've even stolen our nights," You spat at them like venom. Several of the Counsel shift uncomfortably. I take note. Those ones need to be removed. They knew about the curse, the one that prolonged the daylight. You rise and curse them. The timing is perfect as the earth rumbles beneath your feet.

"You WILL restore night and day equally. You will give us our lands, from the farm wastes to the black pit forests. You will release any captives you have, including Lyra and Kurogiri. Only then will we consider not wiping you out. Leave us alone. That is reasonable. That is the only way we will heal," you demanded of them.

Mera slammed an orb on the table, ordering for silence, as a ripple went through the crowd. Several looked as if they were about to chuckle when explosions reigned dust and debris from the ceiling, ruining the rest of the cake. The day turned to night. You and Imogene bellow in delight at their shocked and frightened eyes. The dragon and oracle of the blue rose scream in panic. They know their precious stone is taken. You sign for Imogene to close her eyes. She squeezes them shut and clutches a spoon.

"I sentence you!" You screamed, a burning hot pain shooting through your head as you forced your eye open. Releasing the knot that had been tightening the moment you entered this room. Pouring all your hurt, pain, and rage as you bend the evil eye to your will. It's your power, "Hate each other as much as you hate us! Feel our suffering!"

A hot jet of blood gushed down your face from your eye. The black descended on the mock court. A massive explosion rocked the earth. People screamed. The dying man shot up and stopped the roof from coming down. Imogene pounced on Aizawa, digging her spoon in a scooping out his eye.

"I'm sorry, sensei. But you will not stop my little sister!" Imogene shouted in the chaos. You thought the sudden movement in the room was the crowd trying to flee for the exits. It was for some. Others were trying to kill each other. Hawks had murdered Madam President. His eyes widen in shock at himself.  If they just had some love for us , you thought in wonderment. Imogene grabbed your wrist and stumbled with you to where you came from.

"It seems in your best interest to treat your future Queen well," Imogene cackled behind us, "My mate does not take kindly to sharing my attention."

"So true!" you beam with pride at Imogene. Looking out to the sky. Your heart is swelling thinking of Shigaraki. He's alive and will be coming for you. Suddenly your knees weakened. A sharp jagged pain shot down your middle. Hot fluid gushed between your legs. Puddling around your knees. Imogene held your hand in frozen shock.

"What's happening?" you whimpered to her. Her mouth dropped open, then snapped shut as she steeled herself and wrapped your arm over her shoulder. Lifting and forcing you to walk on your wobbly legs like a newborn faun.

"You're going into labor," she growled. Dragging you as a horrid thought popped into your head. Your heart sank. It was too soon.

"The price of magic," you sobbed. Imogene paled, and that was all the answer you needed. Shiggy had warned you, but you didn't listen.

"You can't give birth here. The hospital is nearby," Imogene grunted.

Shigaraki  lay there dying. His vision rapidly faded into blackness. Partially because he had used the Azure rose. The cluster of sapphire crystals that formed a spiral did resemble an abstract rose. He examined it in the last of the sunlight. It is like his perfection. I chill ran through him. That would be his only regret. He never liked anything enough to want to live before. It made him hate this world more. To give him something to live for, only to have it taken away. But he is sure he will see her again. He will wait and claw to you if his life mate is sent elsewhere. His wingless butterfly flew high without wings. Even in his last moments, he is hungry to press his hard body against your soft one and melt in you.

Shigaraki stared at the sky. He wasn't going to destroy everything. Keeping his word to you was part of his motivation. But when the Order took you, they signed their death contract. He grins. Satisfied that he created perpetual night. That will end everything painfully slow for the Order. He hopes they start to eat each other. That made him chuckle, and he gripped his side as he coughed blood. Four eyes blink down at him in frustration.  

"You bastard! The child cannot live without the sun. Even the moon knew that!" Darvish growls pacing. He swiftly bends and snatches the Azure rose from his hand. Twisting it, screaming, trying to get it to work. Shigaraki laughed harder and spurted more blood.

"I guess you'll have to save me if you want to live. Such a shame you will never have my mate," He spat, spraying Darvish with his blood. Darvish jerked in disgust and growled. This was ruining his plans. After his personal meeting with the moonbeam, he wanted her. Wanted to break her. Feel her wrapped around his knot. They had not expected The Order to request aid from other kingdoms.

Stars and stripes came from a highly militant and wealthy kingdom. They had been doing so well. The woman was a fierce warrior, trained in the art of combat since she was a child. Star was tall and muscular, her long blonde hair quaffed to resemble her mentor. The Pillar of light; All Might. She wore high shined, red, white, and blue armor covering her from head to toe, and her hands were wrapped in thick red gloves. Stars smiled at them from her perch onto a pile of Nomu corpses.

"I think we can both take her," Darvish panted, wiping gore from his right eyes. Shigaraki grinned sickly, his body itching for a fight.

"Secure the blue crystal in that room. All I need is one touch," Shigaraki snarled. Darvish left him to die. The man was a monster, tearing into every human he met like a raw steak. Darvish is more than happy to kill them both and keep the glory for himself.

"Are you going to keep a lady waiting?" Star smirked.

"Not one so tacky. Ugly colors," Shigaraki rasped in broken human tongue. The two combatants circle each other warily. Shigaraki's claws extended and ready to strike. Crouched low, wings quivering, prepared to flit and dodge. They move with deadly grace, each looking for an opening in the other's defenses.

Darvish growls in annoyance. Not the first time today. A wizard key. He hates these things. Darvish kicks the door, but it's magically fortified. Only solving the stupid puzzle allows you to enter.

"Keep her entertained. This will take me a moment," Darvish chittered over his shoulder. Suddenly, Shigaraki lunges forward, slashing with his claws. The other dodges the attack and retaliates with a swift kick to the stomach. The Shigaraki staggers back but quickly regains his footing and retaliates with a flurry of swipes and jabs. The second fighter blocks each attack with their claws but is unable to land a hit of their own.

“Are you Tomura Shigaraki?” The woman asked. Panting and bleeding where his claws had made contact.

"What of it?" He snarled and swiped low. Missing again. Darvish rearranges the blocks on the door randomly. The fight continues for several minutes, with both fighters displaying remarkable agility and skill. Finally, Shigaraki manages to land a lucky strike, slicing Star's arm. She cries out in pain and falls to the ground. He snarled and growled as he advanced on the woman, his eyes blazing with rage.

The woman stood her ground, rising last moment, twisting and bringing her fist down on his shoulder. Clipping his wing. Her eyes never left his face. She raised her fists and prepared to fight as he quickly spun to meet her. The fight was intense and bloody, with both combatants slashing at each other. They moved around the room, dodging and weaving, trying to get the upper hand. Blood flew through the air as Shigaraki clawed and scratched at her armor's weak spots. Frustrated, he has been unable to get all five fingers on her.

He lunged forward, slashing at the woman with his claws. She blocked the attack with her arms and countered with a powerful punch to the chest. He stumbled back but quickly recovered and lunged again. This time, the woman was ready. She dodged his attack and delivered a powerful kick to his stomach. Shigaraki stumbled back again, feeling some of his ribs crack. She was on him, pummeling him bloody, but this time he didn't get up. The woman had won the fight. She stood over him, panting and covered in blood, as he lay defeated, motionless on the ground.

"You should have used your ability," she panted. Bending down and grabbing Shigaraki's face. It made him wonder what she thought his magic was. Not that it mattered. He quickly reached up, wrapping all five fingers around her wrist.

"Don't worry. I did," Shigaraki graveled. The woman said something perplexing him and saluted as she faded into dust. He has never been so happy to be mixed up with Dabi again. Stupid woman, he thought as Darvish helped him to the Azure rose, leaving a trail of blood it dripped from every orifice. Finally, managing to open the door and be useful. Shigaraki is not stupid. Of course, Darvish would let him die. But he had no idea why he wanted the shiny bobble. He had assumed to bring to his mate as a boon.

When Shigaraki had plunged them into the night. It left Darvish with no choice but to save him. Leading them to this moment.

"Not even my doctors can save you. Reverse this. Your moonbeam will die too. I see no motivation to help you. Reverse this so your offspring can live on or don't, and I still snare your female. What do I care for the lands after I'm dead? Reverse this for their sake," Darvish demanded.

"Your doctors couldn't, but mine can. Deliver me to my doctor, fetch my moonbeam, and I will consider allowing you into her harem," Shigaraki graveled. A concession he did not want to make.

"Guarantee me a spot," Darvish quickly jumped on the offer.

"I can guarantee you a political position. Can we hurry? I am dying," Shigaraki spat more blood.

"Unbreakable promise," Darvish insisted. The bastard, he thinks. He can't blame him. It doesn't matter to Shigaraki. The curse he made with you is still creeping into his heart. Honestly, it's what he would have done. Darvish clings to him, waking him up long enough to give the Nomu orders. His instincts rage at him.

That woman did something to us!

So what? She's dead.

We should be the ones rescuing our mate!

Yes. We should be. But our perfection will understand more than anyone why I did what I did.

A harem! You created a harem for her! She will be enraged! 

We will add it to her current rage. What will she do? As long as she's ours, she will not leave us.

How much do you think she will tolerate?  His instincts snorted, crawling around in his mind, fretting over what that woman did.

That was the question he didn't want an answer to. Later, after Darvish brings back his mate, he will be flawless for you and the grubs. After his family, he did not think he would want one. He didn't really care about living. Now that he has you. That has changed. He groans, thinking of the curse. It was fine until Lyra took the children. That bitch. That's a problem for later, like Darvish. He will fulfill his part of the deal. Then kill him later. His instincts liked this plan.

The day  before Adam yanked Lyra along with cruelty digging his nails into her tender flesh. Carefully hiding timed charges along the way. There was already plenty of chaos reining in the streets with Dabi.

"Adam?" Lyra dared to squeak. He stopped and shot her a look of pure hatred. She almost didn't continue. But she couldn't help herself, "Is Ur alive? Is she alright?"

"What do you care? Traitor. Betrayer," He hissed. Narrowing his eyes ominously. She could feel his desire to hurt her radiate off him.

"She told me to run! What if she failed? Was I supposed to leave the kids there at that monster's mercy? You tell me, Adam? What would you have done?" She sobbed. She touched her face in surprise, pulling her fingers away, wet with salty tears. It was a new experience for her. She has never been this emotional. Adam swiftly backhanded her across her jaw. She gripped her jaw, throbbing in a burst of pain. She tried to step away in shock and fear. His pick shot out and hooked behind her neck, pulling her back to him.

"She's alive. No thanks to you. I would have stayed. You are a healer. I would have stayed, had faith, and tried to help the ones I love. Dabi would have punished you but nothing compared to what the Order has done. You always planned to betray us. Tell me I'm wrong," Adam seethed.

"I wanted to save Dabi too. He can not win a fight against his family. I don't want to see any of them die," she sniffled. Adam made a disgusted sound.

"No faith. The greatest sin a member of the Order can commit," he spat at her.

That sent a jolt of emotions through her. Lyra trembled. What did she or anyone gain from this? She wanted to save humanity and warn them of the Mothmen. A species none of them took seriously. They stole her book, called her a whore, stripped her of her rank, and took the children away. The Todoroki family had fought to keep them, and the Order refused. Without rhyme or reason, yes, Endeavor was not good around children, but the older sister tried. Something about humans mixing with magical species was not sanctioned. If Shoto's family had not taken her in, she would be on the streets. But more importantly, how did Adam know a core tenant of the Order well enough to know that would rock her.

"Are there more spies here?" she stupidly asked. She scolded herself. You have told her plenty of times her mouth gets her in trouble. She tried harder for you, but the lesson has never been rooted. Her family must be right. There is something wrong with her.

"Pull that silver spoon out of your ass. Did it seem like any of the humans at the hive had a love for the Order? We kill zealots. I killed my brother and pretended to be him for my revenge on the Order. We were always going to win because it takes a village. Now point to the children before I lose my temper," He growled, swinging her in front of him with his pickaxe. The pick part pressed painfully across her chest. He was deathly good with his tool of the trade.

Lyra weakly pointed. The streets are in chaos. Heroes are swarming everywhere, but no one seems to be noticing them. She quickly looks at Adam's mana aura. It's not strong, but it would explain a few things. She had never bothered to check yours, feeling immediately that your aura was extremely weak the first day she met you. That changed after the eye.

"Your family seems to have a way with manipulation," she panted, leading the way.

"A gift from our mother. Maude has all the natural talent. Quit trying to get information to tell your friends at the Order," Adam sneered. Lyra whirled on him.

"They are clearly not my friends. I fulfilled my promise to Regina. A woman I saw raped to death by Shigaraki, by the way. They did exactly as Shigaraki said they would. They changed my name to Lyle and published an edited version demonizing the entire Mothmen race," Lyra growled at him. Adam's features twisted into concern.

"Shigaraki raped your friend to death? How so?"

"He punctured her intestines. Which leads to sepsis and a full body shutdown. She died slowly with those two mentally torturing her-" Lyra trailed off. Suddenly realizing what she is saying, and moves on to the Order, "They edited everything. Editing out the family structure and the social impact of humans." Adam dragged her to a side alley.

"Social impact of humans? My little sister is bonded to a monster that raped a woman to death. What has he done to my sister?" he hissed.

 "Nothing too harsh. Nothing Shigaraki hasn't paid for," She says quickly. Knowing your family values an eye for an eye.

"What did he do to my sister?" he asked again.

"Adam. Whatever you are thinking. Stop. The whole point of my thesis is we shouldn't be separating ourselves. We improve each other. They are devoted, and none of us want to be in a world where Shigaraki is separated from his mate. The man is wrath personified," She stood firm on this. Adam bit his lip, mulling her words before gesturing with his head she needed to get moving. The girls were easy to get. They went to a wealthy family.

"Put your hood up and don't say anything," He told Lyra. She watched as everyone ignored them. He looked like he belonged. Which is how he must have tricked the villagers he grew up with that he was his brother. Whom he killed. Lyra shudders. Do you know this about Adam? Maude must have known. All Adam had to do was call the girls, and they ran to him.

"We were so scared. They took us away from Aunty Lyra. Is big sister ok?" they wept and whined until Adam reassured them everything was ok. He kept an eye on Lyra the entire time. It will be difficult for him to watch her and the kids.

"Adam. You can't take the girls to find the boys. We should hide them. My family home should be safe," She whispered.

 "No. Not with you. With people I can trust," he hissed. They traveled to some wine cellar. Where Mr. Duskin and Suki were waiting. Lyra's fear ratcheting new heights. She was stuffed in a hole with people she was sure would want her dead. She was about to defend herself When Suki threw herself at Suki in a tight embrace.

"When we head the Order used the chaos of the MLA fight to kidnap you and the children. We feared the worst. How you saved the kids from MLA invaders by convincing them to take the children. We knew it was time to band together and rescue you," Suki wept. Lyra stood there stupefied for a few moments before responding in a way that would have made you proud.

"I tried to keep them together. I knew you would come for me. I am so relieved," Lyra strained to sputter out. Her eyes shoot to Adam, who doesn't correct them. The children only knew of the war and the sounds coming from the other room. John wanted to leave before he had to see Shigaraki.

"What game are you playing at Adam?" She asked him when she cornered him alone.  

"My sister and Dabi want you back, lost little apostate. They gave you a way back. Try not to get lost. Because if we cross paths outside the hive again. I will do awful things to you," he hissed sweetly to her.

"I won't. I know where they sent John and Peter. They placed them in the crystal mines. They have John handling dynamite because he can't hear well. Peter is with him. The mines are incredibly dangerous. You will need me. We grab the boys. Grab Kurogiri, and leave for home," Lyra husked on the verge of tears. She is going to take the way back.  

"That's the plan. I must be able to trust you will not run with the girls. That you will meet us at the designated place to go home," Adam said sternly. Lyra agreed to anything.

The  next day she hid with the girls. Watching at a distance in case she needed to intervene, despite Adam telling her not to. Because one way or another, she will arrive in front of you with what she took.

Adam walks to the entrance in his full mining gear. But even while he looked like he belonged the security tried to stop him. The magic users desperately need the crystals to create support and suppression items. Adam erupts into chaos and violence. Adam is a man that stands in the center of the cave, wielding a pickaxe with both hands and demanding all of the attention.

His face is twisted in rage, and his eyes are wild. He swings the pickaxe wildly, smashing it into the walls, crates, and equipment around him. Shards of wood and dirt fly everywhere as he continues his rampage. The crowd is getting too large for the heroes here to control. Many must have left to deal with the mess of Dabi. They spot the boys at the same time. That is when Adam changes.

He screams out in rage as he swings the pickaxe, seemingly oblivious to the destruction he is causing. Until the heroes realized too late that he had set up a smoke screen. Using the flat end to fling dirt in the strongest one's eyes, hooking him behind the neck, yanking them down to viciously stomp his face in. He systematically took out every single one he came across. Adam would swing, either driving the pick end into them, it doesn't matter where. The head, the ribs, punching the lungs, going through the arms, crushing bones and tearing sinew, dropping heroes to the ground. Pulling them down to crush them under his bloody boots. Bashing with either end.

When a hero got in close Adam swiftly changed his grip and poked out eyes with vicious little jabs. She had never seen a man fight with a pickaxe. She had never seen war before. A trail of destruction and broken bodies littered the way to his brothers. Adam's clothes are tattered, stained with sweat and blood his breathing is labored. He falls to his knees as the boys embrace him. The other children release themselves, crowding around Adam as the adults run. It was gruesome. It was violent. The Order doesn't know what they are facing. Adam, Maude, and you are all commoners. Commoners with a grit and determination that is unparalleled and not found amongst the Order she's been raised in.

"Adam! Is he ok, Aunt Lyra?" Mabel asked. Lyra grabbed her hand and moved. Carrying Beth and Jan trailing behind Mabel. There were a few confused looks as she ran past the heroes to Adam.

"Hold still," She ordered him as she used her spell to help him. He wasn't injured but his exhaustion was just as crippling. John was signing with his hands fast. Too fast for her to understand, "John? What is it?"

Adam translated.

"Shoto's sister came looking for you. She dropped off muffins and reassured them they were still fighting to adopt them. But she really needed you because there were rumors that the wingless Queen was captured and Dabi was extremely burned during his fight yesterday. Fuck! Fuuuuuck!" Adam roared. He looked crazed as he looked towards the capital building. Very likely where they are holding you. Lyra was processing the information and forming a plan. When a series of explosions rumbled the ground.

"They have my little sister. The capital building will be lit up like a roman candle!"

"I need to help Dabi. He will be at the Todoroki estate. It's a safe place from the bombs," She said, leading the way.

"I have to save my little sister. Even if it's one of my other sisters in disguise. I cannot leave them to die," Adam growled.

"You'll need a way in. Shoto still has a good standing. Use him to disarm the bombs," Lyra panted.

"We can help. We are experts. Please, take us with you," A small voice said.

"I'm not leaving these kids here," John lisped. Lyra looked to Adam, who was visibly shaken and chewing his lip bloody.

"Normally I would ask a six-year-old to help me with dynamite. But I don't see another way," Adam mumbled.

"Of course! Whatever! Let's just move. Now!" She shouted as she ran.

When  they arrived, they were panting, exhausted messes. Adam guides them through routes not to get killed. Fuyumi, Shoto's sister danced nervously at the door when Adam pushed his way in.

"My goodness Fuyumi, you're already harboring a criminal," Lyra huffed.

"Sorry, ma'am," Adam smiled charmingly. Fuyumi blushed, and it took a moment for Lyra to catch on. Shoto popped out from a back room. Wide-eyed at first.

"Shoto. Help Adam disarm bombs at the capital, and I will start to heal Dabi. I know how much you want redemption for your brother," Lyra said quickly. Running to the kitchen to swiftly make a fortification elixir for them. Shoto immediately agreed.

"Are there any more bombs in the city?" Shoto had asked. Lyra was about to warn him. But it wasn't necessary. Adam smiled sweetly, his gloved hand, resting on top of his blood-stained pickaxe.

"What of it?" Adam asked gleefully. Shoto's eyes landed on it, Adam's cheerful face, then Lyra's worried face.

"Nothing. Happy to be saving lives," Shoto said monotoned.

When  they left, she went to Dabi, leaving the kids under Fuyumi's care. She gasped and almost dropped the hot water she was carrying when she saw Dabi.

"How are you alive?" She wept. His jaw was barely hanging on. His lips missing, piled under blankets, and in a robe up to his neck.

"Lyra," He husked.

"Don't talk," She fretted. Soaking bandages and looking up spells. Lyra didn't know he had moved until he turned her to face him.

"Heal me, Lyra," he rasped. Pressing his teeth against her lips until they part to let his tongue snake in. She was taken aback by Dabi's passionate kiss, but Lyra could feel the heat radiating from his skin. She could tell he had been through a lot, yet here he was, showing her such tenderness and love. She felt a deep connection with him and returned his kiss with equal passion.

He slowly reaches out and gently takes her hands in his, caressing them. Dabi pulled her towards the bed, shoving her down, looking into her eyes. He leans down and nibbles her softly on the lips, his hands moving up to her face, cupping it tenderly. Tears are in her eyes. He is so burned his wings are stunted burnt nubs.

He moves his hands down her body, neck, and breasts, exploring her curves and contours. His touch is gentle and loving as he tweaks her nipples, sending shivers of pleasure through her body. He brushes his lips down to her neck, kissing and nibbling as he goes. He moves lower, exploring her body with his hot hands and mouth. Forcing her to part her legs with a whimper. He takes his time, savoring every moment and little whine she makes. His touch is passionate and hot, yet gentle. His tongue lathes over his bite mark sending waves of pleasure through her body.

"Lyra. It has been too long after the blood binding. It's painful. I spared this part of my body for you," he graveled. Finally, he unrobed and licked back up to her face and gazed into her eyes with his icy blues. His hips wedge between her shaking thighs. He trills lovingly at her and they share a tender embrace before they make love for the first time. Their bodies intertwined his large pierced cock rubbing and slicking himself over her drooling sex. Their breathing became more and more labored. Moves his hands lower, caressing her inner thighs and teasing her most sensitive areas. She gasps in pleasure as his touch sends waves of desire through her body. He moves his fingers in circles, increasing the intensity of the sensations until she is trembling with anticipation, eliciting moans of pleasure from her. His tongue moves down her neck, sending shivers of delight through her body.

"I chose you. Do you remember?" She asked surprisingly. He wraps his arms around her. Running his claws in her hair.

"I never forgot. Lyra," He graveled. Moving his body closer to hers, pressing his hardness against her softness. She opened herself to him. He slid into her tight pussy with a groaning chirp. She hates and loves him as he pushes through her resistive walls. Filling her as she clings to him with hitching gasps. He bucks his hips. Slowly, Lyra wraps her legs around him as they move together in perfect harmony. He rubs all the delicious spots on her. for the first time, she is not afraid. She accepts Dabi. The ecstasy builds. Hot fire burning in her, becoming more and more intense until they both reach their peak. Both cry out in pleasure as they reach orgasm together. He growled and knotted. Shooting hot cum deep in her. They collapse into each other's arms, exhausted but satisfied. He is attached to her. Having her pulse and squeeze on his knot.

Lyra was exhausted and fell asleep in his arms. He wrapped himself in the bandages. She left out for him. Now that he fulfilled and stated his blood bond with Lyra, he can move on with his plans. The mix of relief and rage he felt when he discovered she was pregnant still left a strange taste in his mouth. Ashen. But he can let loose freely without his instincts nagging at him. Lyra will be taken care of. He left this in a note. Asking others to watch out for her, she is mouthy and will need more than Kurogiri. He put his seal on it and left it in her robes. Dabi took Shoto's white baptismal robes of the Order of light.

He swiped at Fuyumi when she rushed to him. He didn't know if it was for a loving embrace or not. Dabi didn't care. He is going to kill Endeavor. Fuyumi falls to her ass. Peter and the girls pull her away from Uncle Dabi. They are sweet, gullible humans.  

"I will do my last brotherly duty. I recommend Adam as a mate. Times are changing Fuyumi. Chang with them or be crushed under fathers' heel," Dabi graveled before leaving.

Shoto  convinced his fellow classmates to guide them. Letting them disarm and take them. Except for a few. Adam and John won't be allowing the Order to execute their sisters. When the massive explosion at the keep happened, they searched for them, letting John blow quite a bit of it up. Day turned into night.

Kurogiri's portals opened. Flooding the streets with magical creatures, Mothmen, and enraged villagers. They marched through the streets like they owned them because, at this moment, they did. Adam spotted Yoon. The four-armed man was slaughtering in complete joy, carrying a passed-out Kurogiri. Adam whistled and caught his attention. Yoon is there instantly, beaming as he hugs Adam and John too tight with one set of arms.

"Ugh. Get off me, Yoon. Listen closely. Pay attention. The little Queen is here. She's missing. Do you understand?" Adam mimed until John chittered at him, giggling at Adam. Yoon stiffened and nodded in seriousness. He lathed his tongue over one of Adam's wounds, much to Adam's personal disgust. Then straightened his feelers, beckoning them to follow.

He found you pretty quickly. You are cornered by two sidekick knights. A green one and a blonde with blue eyes. They were busy with one of the Moth princes, Darvish, and his doctor. Seems like many wanted the little Queen. Yoon has seen that look on females' faces before. Full labor. Yoon didn't have time to play with his kind. He grabbed John's hand. Letting him feel the vibration of his words.

"John. I need space between your sister and the knights," Yoon said slowly. Adam grinned, reaching into his layers of leather to pull out a crystal attached to a button. One push of that button put plenty of space between them, "Warn a man!"

Yoon tossed Kurogiri at Adam. Quickly stabbing the one that doubted you are a moonbeam in the neck, snatching up you and Imogene. John is convincing Kurogiri to wake up. He opens a Portal where Darvish and his doctor end up with them. Lyra shrieked and bolted upright.

"What are you doing here? Where is Shigaraki? His mate is going into labor. He's the one who should be here," Yoon chittered.

"Get her on the table," The doctor shouted as Lyra scrambled for hot water.

"We're not leaving without our family. That and Kurogiri wouldn't leave without Lyra," Adam gruffed. Smacking at a glitching Kurogiri, who was passing out again.

"Well, it's too late now," Kai said. Pulling his hand from between the Queen's legs and rewashing his hands, "She's fully dilated. These grubs are coming. We can't move her now."

"When the doctor says I want you to bare down from your middle," Imogene instructed. You shake your head, no, "Don't "no!" me. You have to."

"Nope. I changed my mind. I don't want to do this," You say, trying to sit up. Lyra gently pushes you back down.

"Too late for that, I'm afraid," Lyra said kindly. You grip her and pull her into a full weeping hug.

"I'm scared," you admitted. Feeling weaker. It's not like you didn't know the risks, but no, that they are here, you are terrified. Horrid pain radiates from your center in intervals.

"Anyone who doesn't have medical training needs to get out. I need to deliver multi babies with multi limbs," Kai announced. Imogene, helping to set up receiving for three grubs, "Create four."

"Four!" everyone shouted. Kai nodded.  

"Four. Now get the hell out!" Kai hissed. Yoon and Darvish watched each other intensely while the rest of your family helped Shot and Fuyumi with what was left of Dabi.  

"What are you doing here? Where's Shigaraki? He should be here with his mate. Not you," Yoon chittered at Darvish. Staring at their group falling apart.

"Shigaraki promised a position in the Queen's harem if I deliver her. I'm an honorable male. I'll take the crumbs for now," Darvish grinned. Yoon did not like this. Something felt off to him. He was missing something, and it felt like, at any moment, things could turn disastrous.

"The moment the Queen gives birth, we should take her to Shigaraki. Human females do not handle birth well. I had several mates at one time. There's a forty percent chance she would die with a normal birth. Multiple grubs," Yoon said, trailing off. Darvish is shaking his head in disagreement.

"I met Shigaraki's doctor. I do not trust his abilities to help the Queen. He seemed to harbor animosity towards her. My doctor will save her," Darvish stated.

"I agree. However, I am not leaving her alone with you," Yoon growled.

"Fair enough," Darvish replied.

You  held onto your fluffy nursing boy and felt overwhelmed. He looked exactly like Shigaraki. Covered in white fluff, large red eyes, and tiny little antennae. You brushed his cheek, and he chirped around your nipple. Kai quickly unwrapped the umbilical cord from around your second albino bundle. He worked swiftly with the help of your sister.

"A girl. A four-armed girl is highly rare," Kai said over her screeching. Your sister cleaned and wrapped her, placing her on your other breast. She rooted until she found your nipple. Immediately settling down with a coo. Her pink eyes rolled. A four-armed little girl. Twins.

"We're going to need you to push," Lyra said somewhere far away. You mustered your strength and pushed. Screaming in pain and exhaustion. Slumping back when you heard a screeching.

"It's a boy. Pure black. Dark magic user for sure," Lyra said, hanging him to Imogene.

"You have to keep pushing," Imogene shouted. You tried to tell her it was hard to hear.

"She's blacking out. I need to cut the last one out," Kai said.

"Don't you dare!" Lyra screamed. So much shouting, yet still so hard to hear.

"Where's my baby?" you mumbled before blackness and chaos.

It is a flurry of activity. The pure black four-armed baby girl is much smaller than the other three. She is shallowing breathing and is the most human looking with a lack of fur. Her eyes are like your black ones. Twin moons in a starry black sky. Lyra uses her magic to save her life.

"Can't you use your magic?" Lyra asks Kai flustered.

"My magic doesn't work that way," Kai said, examining you. Adam burst in, taking charge. Freezing when he sees you cut open a bloody mess.

"Is she dead?" Adam asked in a small voice.

"No. She's close to it. As is this little one," Kai said.

"Right. Gather the babies. We are taking them with Dabi and us to Shigaraki's doctor. Imogene and Yoon are going with Darvish and Doctor Kai," He announced as Shoto dragged in a lifeless Dabi. Kurogiri seeing Lyra opened a portal to the Shigaraki. Lyra felt her magic stretch as she took the baby and helped with Dabi. There was no time to argue. Children piled through the portal. Yoon snatched you up, and the others went through the other doorway.

Shigaraki sat at the edge of the tank he was about to be emerged in. Tubes and wires handing off his body. Lyra shoved a dying grub in his arms and his instincts lit up. A four-armed beauty. Those rumors about Nana must have been true. She is so dark she looks like she is made of the night. Her little antennae twitched. Her nude soft human body lay too limp in his dangerous hands. Her ruff and fuzzy hair ruffled as she sneezed. He nuzzled her, and she weakly gripped his antennae.

"Doctor. Don't argue with Lyra. Give her everything she wants. I'll be changing with this one," Shigaraki rasped. Dreadful regret as Doctor Ujiko shoved needles and wires into her tender flesh. They were about to sleep together when his nature raged one last time in the seizing darkness. Something severed his connection to you.

"As  I said. My magic doesn't work that way," Kai said casually to you and Imogene. Reducing Yoon to a fine red mist. He needed to take him out first. He saw how quickly and easily Yoon had killed a highly trained prince, "The Men from your hive are something else."

Kai caught you and Imogene by the forearm. You are so confused. A hot searing lighting bolt feels like it is ripping you apart atom by atom. Imogene screaming somewhere in the back of your mind. A clawed hand clamped tightly over your mouth.

"Shhhh, they will hear you, little moonbeam," Darvish hissed. Hiding you under his wing as something huge slithered along. He let you go to talk.

"What is happening?" you whispered. Darvish blinked and twitched in sadness.

"Kai used your sister to save you. He killed Yoon and threw us here. Don't worry, little mate. I will get you safely to your grubs and mate," Darvish whispered. Pulling you close.

"What? Where are my babies? Where is my sister?" you asked, teary-eyed. Blood dripping from your black eye. He licked and cooed to you in the perpetual night.

Chapter 26

#moth shigaraki #yandere moth shigaraki #mothura #mothman #mothman shigaraki #yandere shigaraki #shiggy #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #tomura shiragaki #tomura shigaraki x reader #boku no hero academia tomura #bnha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #yandere shigaraki tomura #yandere monster #yandere male #mha shigaraki #yandere shigaraki x reader

[olympianbutch]

i hope this makes sense, but i've had this back-and-forth with my faith in my head for years and in light of your recent post i was wondeing - if you're in the headspace to talk about this - what your thoughts are on the theoi and their relations with otherwise bigoted worshippers. ex: if a bunch of terfs claim to hear from Aphrodite that trans women aren't real women, what am i to make of that ? does their bigotry distort how their receive messages from the theoi, and in which case, does that mean the gods support of me and my queer fellows in my mind are also our own distortion ? are they being guided towards a better mindset and being given the benefit of the doubt ? if i (a trans man) think i'm talking to a loving Aphrodite while a terf thinks they are talking to a radfem Aphrodite, what makes any of this matter ? if the theoi would give their love to those who wish me dead, what is the purpose of my faith ? i've never known how to make sense of this, but it won't ever stop me from loving the theoi (particularly my relationship with Dionysos - i mean, cmon, there's nothing cisgender about him)

I promise I haven't been ignoring your ask, anon. I've just been taking some time to mull over this, and it really got me thinking.

The cognitive science of religion posits that every human being comes equipped with a sort of "spiritual toolbox." This means that evolutionarily, we hominids are prone to exhibiting or exercising religious thoughts and behaviors. How these thoughts and behaviors manifest is incredibly diverse. Seriously, you would be astounded by the cultural and religious diversity of our species. And historically, diversity has been met with either fear or hatred (though these are by no means mutually exclusive).

I believe that fear and hate are contrary to our nature because it inhibits progress (evolutionarily, we are an incredibly progressive species). I think that the gods—being the governors of nature—would oppose that which is contrary to progress. And thus I believe that the gods do not inform or support or arbitrate transphobia (or any kind of bigotry, for that matter).

My feelings on this aren't exactly convoluted, yet this is a topic that requires a full range of thought. So, I consulted two of the smartest transsexuals I know (@ofsappho & @hekateanfoodie) to see what they had to say about this:

Areia says . . .

"To speak from a more personal perspective, the truth is, as a queer/trans person of color, I have no idea whether or not what people who want to hurt me and see me dead and claim that they speak to my gods experiences are 'real.'

I have no way of externally verifying what is going on with them.

But I look for the theoi in my life and i see that divinity everywhere. I love how this poem describes it. Personally? In my opinion, divinity is inherently subversive and outside the 'norm' and unconventional.

The gods do not love what hurts that which they love, I know that to be true

If they think the gods hate me and they speak for the gods, that is blasphemous

And impious

That is objectively true

So I guess… I look and see how the gods love me everywhere and how divinity seeps through the cracks of ordinary life and celebrates the extraordinary. Being transgender is a calling and I would not experience it if the gods didn’t intend for me to walk this path."

Mika says . . .

"I’m going to use Christianity as the biggest example here because it has the largest pool to pull from. I also don’t think tackling this question from a theological standpoint is entirely helpful because theology is too subjective for us to find any meaningful discourse. Also it’s too easy for the other side to react with the same argument of 'this is what I believe.' (Though we can talk about orthopraxy and how belief is secondary so really all this is a moot point to begin with!)

Regarding the point: religion can be used for either oppression or liberation. Which is entirely up to you. MLK was Christian, as was Adοlf Ηitler… but if we were to ask the majority of people on earth who god favors which do you think the consensus would be? If we were to ask who was more worthy of heaven, Harriet Tubman or Christopher Columbus, who do you think the consensus would agree upon? The point here is that regardless of personal belief—Liberation. Is. Just.

And we can talk about who Aphrodite loves more based on personal experience with the divine until we are blue in the face, but who do you think is more rewarded on earth? The TERF, or the trans masc butch with love for all?

I personally think that what we do on this earth matters more than what we do in the afterlife. As much as Orphism and eschatology fascinates me- contemplating death is meaningless if you didn’t do anything here to make conditions for everyone else better. The ground we walk on is holy. The way we conduct ourselves while walking Earth is observed by the gods.

And if you spend your time trying to invalidate your fellow humans- instead of making life better for them- the ground you walk on will be blighted.

That’s like not religious contemplation that’s just a fact lmfao. If you spend your time conceiving ways to make other people miserable for existing you will blight the earth. Lmfao."

I don't exactly have any concluding thoughts (,: I just think we would benefit from chewing on these ideas for a while

#Meleagros answers #hellenic polytheism #helpol #hellenic polytheist #hellenic polytheistic #hellenic reconstructionism #hellenic reconstructionist #hellenic pagan #hellenic paganism #hellenic revivalism #hellenic revivalist #ancient greek religion #greek gods #greek religion

[throttlegainwell]

Just some thoughts on commenting that I've been mulling over for a while.

I'm very pro-comment in the sense that I deeply value someone taking the time to tell me that they enjoyed my work (and especially what they enjoyed about it, if they choose to share that). I don't think it's obligatory and I don't think it's inherently rude not to comment because fandom is not transactional (though I think it's a little strange to love a fic so much that you share it around your private circle, talk about it, and have it inspire your work and yet never interact with the author in any way, which I'm observing more and more these days). If you like my work, you don't owe me anything, though it is, of course, considerate to remember that I'm also a person and I do have feelings and sometimes those feelings can benefit from a little positive interaction over a creative work that I poured a little of myself into. I enjoy being able to make someone out there smile or look at something differently; I like to think that some people out there also enjoy knowing they've made me smile. Commenting can also be a great way to build a rapport, engage with community, and sometimes form meaningful fandom friendships--and sometimes it's not, and that's cool, too. I don't read a lot of fic, but this is all why I try to comment when I do.

So with that in mind, I'm not picky about comments. I do feel strongly that I'm not here for concrit. Because 1) it's already posted, so that's not the appropriate or effective time for that kind of feedback, 2) I don't know you, so, sorry, but your opinion on the subject has very little value to me and you don't even know my goals with this piece, and 3) I'm here to have fun and this is my hobby, which I approach differently from writing I undertake for professional or academic reasons. And rude comments that aren't even pretending to be concrit are obviously shitty and not appreciated either, though I just delete and move on (and I love that you can block these commenters now).

So, like, other than that, I'm just appreciative when people comment, even when it's generic and vague. I'm cool with emojis or punctuation or keysmashing, or a few sentences, or--my favorite--those longer comments that dig into what they enjoy about something or how it made them feel, or comment on the writing in particular/share favorite quotes, or talk about the themes/characters/plot/what you're doing with the story, or share why the story was impactful for them personally. I love when I write a story that generates some kind of discussion or leaves someone with something to think about or with questions. My favorite comments are usually (not always!) from other writers. So while I do worry that I'm being annoying when I comment, I don't find any of these commenters annoying, no matter how little or how much they have to say (and I could stand to take my own advice about the whole matter and quit being so self-conscious, probably).

What I will say is that I have gotten comments that I found overly familiar or uncomfortably ambiguous. I don't need you to love the story or tell me you loved it, but if I don't know you, then I do feel weird about comments that could just as easily mean you hated it, even though I take a good faith reading and assume you probably mean them positively. And I don't really love hearing "I hate you" from strangers, even though I'm aware that it's not meant literally and it usually just means "I'm feeling a lot/I enjoyed this a lot." I also don't love comments from strangers that insinuate personal things about me or why I wrote a particular story or what I needed from/got out of writing it or that are casually familiar in such a way that someone speaking to me that way on the street would be interpreted as invasive and inappropriate. I don't know if this is a less popular/common sentiment, but it's just how I feel.

I think fandom is a fun place, and one where you can meet people with whom it's possible to be yourself in important ways. I've met people in fandom and developed some really deep friendships; I've had a lot of fun, even with very casual, superficial interactions. But you do, in fact, encounter a lot of strangers, just like anywhere else, and I think it's important to appreciate that, as deeply personal an experience as reading their story may have felt to you, you are still speaking to a stranger, unless you have some familiarity already. And this is all done via a method of communication notorious for misunderstandings due to lack of tone and body language. Speaking purely anecdotally, I have noticed a bit of an erosion of that boundary over the last few years.

So. I do feel a little bad saying that. I definitely don't want to make people self-conscious or discourage anyone from commenting; I know that's a fraught subject for many people, and 99% of the time it's all good and appreciated. Most people are polite! And most commenters are very chill! And I get that we're fans for a reason--short for "fanatic". We just kind of are this way, often quite enthusiastically. I definitely take that into account when gauging these interactions, and I'm not sitting there judging anyone who leaves those comments or disliking these commenters--I'm just left feeling a little strange about the interaction. This is just my personal comfort zone, having occasionally received comments that push that boundary a little or that confuse me.

And it's really idiosyncratic and subjective, I know.

#i just find myself thinking this occasionally #especially with all the discussion around commenting etiquette #and how comments are a writer's lifeblood or something #long post

[distort-opia]

What is your advice on writing well? Do you read about writing? Do you take any course?

I appreciate the ask, Anon! Flattered that you think I've got something valuable to say about the subject. I've been mulling over how to answer the past couple of days, which in itself is kind of telling, because it shows that I don't... entirely know what advice to give? I've never sought out writing tips or courses or rules, it's just something I've been doing since I was an embarassing tween and then kept doing. So take everything I say with a grain of salt.

For me writing is very... rhythm-based. I mean look at how I'm approaching even this answer. I'm hard on ellipses to indicate pauses in speech as if I'm considering something out loud. I use a lot of semicolons and dashes, commas and periods. I use italics a lot as well to emphasize words as if they're spoken. In my head it's always like that when writing, it's combining elements that feel right one after the other. When I edit my own writing I do it until the piece sounds right, essentially. So I guess one thing I'd say is... pay attention to punctuation and the flow of writing?

I'd also advise you to not get bogged down by unnecessary details. This is something I struggle with myself. I have the instinct to be as thorough as possible, which is great in my line of work (science) but it's not great in creative work. Not everything is important in writing; you don't have to describe every single thing that happens in exactly the same pace. It's good to have the reader infer things, and not spoonfeed them every interpretation or thought the character has. In the same vein, most of the time I'm mindful not to introduce elements in a story that don't connect to others. I imagine a story as a stream of interwoven strings. If you introduce an element, a character, a plotline, it should ultimately matter. This is what essentially put a gun to my head when writing REMS, actually. Thematically, I had introduced a lot of stuf that would have remained unexplored or suspended mid-air if I ended the fic where I originally planned to. So I kept going until the story felt... wrapped up. In general, this is something I both love to see in stories and something I like to do in stories; have everything tie in for an overall idea, a message, a theme. (I actually kept a list of all the motifs and parallels and so on for REMS.) But to give a real example... Dark, the Netflix show, is one of my favorite pieces of writing when it comes to how well it manages to do this.

But anyway! In the end I think it's about having fun, which is why I haven't gotten too stressed about writing courses or stuff like that. It's obviously great that you want to improve, and it's something I want to do as well, but I guess my final advice is to never let it become a chore-- something you keep analyzing for flaws or something mechanical that follows the rules of others. Don't let writing not be fun.

#asks #writing #it's kinda funny when I stumble upon writing advice posts on tumblr because #sometimes it's like. 'oh wow yeah I do that already!' #and other times it's '...I literally do the opposite and will continue to do the opposite. fuck you' :))

[moonlightperseus]

911 Characters + dogs you think they should own

okay im sooo sorry it's taken me so long to reply to this but i wanted to really mull it over and i've been thinking about it a lot and i've come up with a basic list for the main chars (+ a few that are Main In My Heart) i've paired off the canon couples since they would be getting the dog together.

bobby (and athena, but i'm putting bobby specifically because athena is allergic to dogs and thus this is His dog) - Chinese crested dog (i originally was debating between bichon and toy poodle but then i saw the error of my ways) bobby rescues this older, a little bit in need of some tlc chinese crested and it's perfect because they're a pretty hypoallergenic breed (the hairless ones at least, which is what bobby rescues), athena is hesitant about the dog at first,

henren - golden retriever / mix, i know they had a smaller dog in the past but personally i think they should have a medium/large dog next, a rescue who is a little older (past puppyhood/young adult bc hooo boy you don’t need a puppy and a baby at the same time), idk if it’s a full golden or a mixed breed with some golden in it but it’s a very even tempered fluffy dog who’s a total sweetheart (if sometimes a little stubborn about moving… i’m not speaking from any person experience what are you talking about)

madney - staffy mix, okay i’m giving credit to maddie (@thebuckley-hans) for getting me on the madney getting a staffy agenda and also the wonderful staffy mix at my work who is an ANGEL. again they rescue a little older of a dog (bc i am NOT subjecting my blorbos to puppy & young child i’m not doing that!!!! getting a puppy when you have a baby is a trend that needs to die out imo <3 why would you subject yourself to that On Purpose)

bonus for madney - i also think they should get a boston terrier, maybe a little later when jee is a little more grown up, bc hooo boy bostons can be fucking wild but i have a soft spot for bostons and also THE madney ep... boston... yeah

eddie - english bulldog. this is based on approx nothing except for the fact that we had our bulldog regular, George, at work recently and i thought it would be funny if eddie somehow ended up with a bulldog and i’ve been stuck on this concept ever since

buck - irish wolfhound. this is absolutely me projecting my captivation on the breed that ive had for so long (my original want for him was a newfoundland, for uh, similar reasons, but i feel soooooo bad putting on in california) i just think he should have a Real Big Dog (as @scattered-winter has put it, a dog that could just lie on him and be like a weighted blanket)

ravi - okay i have two VERY different vibes for ravi that i cannot decide between. one is a border collie, theyre... very intense but i think he would go all in on the training, it might be a little challenging with his long shifts though, they dont do well with being left alone/boredom but he could have a pettsitter situation. now on the COMPLETE OPPOSITE END OF THE SPECTRUM, i could also see ravi with a little spoiled purse dog, i'm thinking lhasa apso? (am i biased bc one of my dogs is supposedly 20% lhasa, maybe) i think he would would dote on that dog sooo hard and spoil her and she have little spa days and maybe her and bobby's dogs are friends......

lucy - shetland sheepdog. i cannot explain it but i got it in my head of her having sheltie(s) and its stuck like glue. she just has the Sheltie Person Vibe I CANT EXPLAIN IT

may - mixed breed as a bonus i think may should have a scruffy lil mixed breed, not small small but like medium small. just a scrungley guy (maybe a cairn terrier mix?)

okay yeah!! i think this is it!! apologies again for the long ass ramble and the delayed response but i thought about this a lot and im just!!! thank you for this ask!!!

#911 #abby replies #nilefreemans #911 + dogs #pls let at least ONE of the mains have a dog again... please please please

[sassykattery]

Reignition, Pt. 3

Welcome to Part 3. We're already slightly over halfway through this chapter, so get ready.

CW: MC is afab, uses she/her pronouns. MC is human. MC is single. No real warnings for this part, mostly storyline.

Themes: infatuation, crushes, relationships, jealousy, pining.

Characters: Diavolo, MC="you", Barbatos, Lucifer, all brothers implied or explicitly mentioned.

Minors and ageless blogs DNI.

18+ only

Masterlist

Enjoy~

-------

"Checkmate," you said triumphantly and held out your hand to Diavolo. He smiled and took your hand in defeat. It was a few hours after you had texted the prince and having arrived at the castle shortly thereafter.

"Another rousing game, thank you MC," Diavolo replied, letting his hand linger with yours just a touch longer. Both of you pulled away at the same time and couldn't stop smiling.

"Indeed, I'm starting to wonder if you're losing your touch," you teased.

Diavolo scoffed, "I think you've just been taught too well, MC."

You mulled it over, "Actually, for someone who's been around as long as you have, I don't think I should be able to beat you."

"Are you implying I've been playing chess for a thousand years?"

"Is that how old you are?" you shot back, actually rather curious to the real answer, but also still joking.

Diavolo laughed and changed the subject, "Ready for dinner?"

You nodded eagerly and both of you went to the dining hall.

After another wonderfully-made dinner, both of you went back to the common room and played Devil Kart, and things got rather rambunctious after an hour.

"I can't believe you! You threw that banana right there on purpose! So that I'd run into it!" you squealed.

Diavolo laughed, "I most certainly did not!"

"Now you're going to get it!" you growled playfully. Devil Kart brought out your competitive side in an awful way.

After several more laps, Diavolo finished first, much to your dismay, and you playfully slapped your hand onto his chest, "You made me lose!" you shrilled.

Diavolo couldn't stop laughing at you, and you couldn't help it either; the two of you were a mess. Eventually, your hand rested on his bicep as you tried to stop laughing, only to look at each other and start laughing again. Once you both calmed down, you looked at him with a goofy grin to match his own.

The prince took notice of your hand as soon as you laid it on him, on his chest first, and now on his arm, and it made him feel joyous. He knew, at the least, your little touches meant you were comfortable with him. The extent of your comfort was still unknown, but he knew touching was a big step. He was a little sad when you took it away though, already missing your touch.

"MC, I had no idea you were so competitive," he mused to you.

Your eyes widened and you suddenly looked embarrassed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I know I get carried away..." you mumbled.

Diavolo shook his head with a smile, "Not at all, I find it rather charming, MC," he stated with an eyebrow wiggle. You chuckled behind your hand bashfully.

There was silence between you two again, and you leaned back into the sofa with a content sigh.

Just then, Barbatos walked in, and then you gave a less than content sigh, knowing what time it was.

"I know Barbatos, Diavolo has work to do and I should go," you said. Barbatos simply smiled and nodded, exiting the room wordlessly.

Diavolo also sighed, and not happily either. You stood, and so did Diavolo. Looking up at him, you held out your arms, offering a hug. The prince accepted immediately, and instead pulled you into him, both of you chuckling again.

Diavolo waved you and Barbatos goodbye, as his butler escorted you back home.

The Demon Lord went to his office and pulled out his paperwork but ended up just staring at it for some time, not being able to actually get any work done. At this point, it was hard for Diavolo to deny, you consumed his thoughts endlessly. It was worse after he just saw you too, almost forcing him to beg you to come back and be with him longer. Anytime he saw you at RAD, he found himself going back to his office and just staring out the window, wondering what you were doing or if you were having a good day.

And then there was another problem: he found you to be incredibly beautiful, sexy, enchanting, you name it. So, often times, he found himself awake late at night, looking through your photos on Devilgram thinking about all the ways he'd like to have you. Sometimes he just had pure intentions, like just wanting to hold you. Other times, he wondered what it'd be like to have you sprawled out beneath him, both of you moaning with unadulterated pleasure.

A flush crossed his cheeks with that last thought, and just then Barbatos returned to his office.

"My lord, are you alright? It looks as though you haven't done anything while I've been gone," Barbatos said.

"Barbatos, I think I have a problem," Diavolo stated, rubbing his face with his hand in frustration.

"And what would that be, young master?"

Diavolo stared at his desk, flustered. "I think I like MC, more than just a friend," he stated.

Barbatos gave a light chuckle, "You think I didn't know, my lord?" Diavolo gave his butler the side-eye.

"If I may, my lord, I've been observing you with MC for a while now, and it seems as though there's a connection," the butler said.

"You think she feels the same?" Diavolo asked.

"I don't think she would mind your advancements, that's all," Barbatos replied, and then left the Demon Lord to his thoughts.

-

It was quiet in the House when arrived that evening. Levi wasn't screaming at anything, Mammon wasn't getting in trouble or yelling for someone to cut him down from the ceiling, and everyone else seemed to be behaving.

Walking into your room, something felt off. It was as if something, or someone, had been in there, but when you looked around, it seemed like nothing was out of place. After a while, you gave up trying to figure out what happened and just got ready for bed. Thoughts of your time with Diavolo resurfaced, and you couldn't stop smiling as you went to the bathroom to take a shower.

Feeling refreshed, you walked into your bedroom, and again, it felt as though something was amiss. You felt uneasy, unsure of why exactly you felt this way, but you couldn't remain here. After getting into your pajamas, you went to Mammon's room and knocked.

He immediately answered, shirtless and just in his sweatpants. When he saw you, he immediately blushed, realizing he wasn't terribly decent.

"Yeah?" he said.

"Can I sleep in here?" you asked sheepishly.

"What's wrong- nevermind, c'mon," he said, opening the door wider for you to come in and then closing it. He steered you toward his bed and you tried to object,

"I can just sleep on the couch-"

"Nonsense, there's enough room," he grumbled. After some hesitation, you slid into the far side of the bed and got comfortable, laying on your back and looking up at the second-born.

He scoffed and got in on the other side. "Happy?" he asked.

"Thank you, Mammon, you're the best," you said sweetly.

"Don't go tellin' people about it, alright?" he said, rolling to his side to face away from you to hide his blush after your compliment.

You laid there for quite some time, just thinking. Truthfully, you felt safer now, but you couldn't get over how eerie your room felt.

-

When you woke up, you felt like a thousand lead weights were on you, but no, it was just the sleeping form of Mammon on top of you, his face buried in your chest.

Your eyes went wide when you saw this, and you froze, unsure if you should wake him up to move, or what to do about this rather precarious situation.

Trying to be subtle, you coughed, and he stirred. His hands landed on either side of your torso, above your waist. He nuzzled his face into your chest even more and finally opened his eyes. Picking up his head, he looked straight into your face, and the two of you stayed like that for a moment.

Mammon's eyes finally widened, comedically so, and he flailed around trying to get off of you, "Ack!"

Finally rolling off the bed, he stood and huffed, "What are ya doin' MC?!"

"I believe you were the one on top of me, Mammon," you growled back.

"Whatever!" he said, throwing his hands up and walking away. When you looked at the time, you realized breakfast should be ready, so you quickly got up and went to your room to get dressed, leaving Mammon behind to fume. Well, he was actually embarrassed and simultaneously remembering fondly how your breasts felt on his face.

Ready for the day, you hopped through the hallway and sat at the dining table.

"Oi! Where have you been MC? You know, some of us like having you around at dinner," Satan said as you filled your plate.

"Oh? Is that right, Satan?" you asked with a chuckle. Satan's gaze purposefully darted to Lucifer, and the eldest immediately bristled. You hadn't so much as looked at Lucifer since your argument. "Well, I apologize. I've been having dinner at the castle as of late," you replied.

"Oh? Why?" Belphie asked.

"I suppose Lord Diavolo and Barbatos enjoy my company," you said simply. "I've also been playing chess and video games with the Demon Lord when he has the time," you added.

Lucifer looked as though he could murder someone, felt that way too, but you continued to ignore him.

"Hmm, seems as though you've become rather special to them then, MC," Satan mused with a smirk.

"More than special, MC- ow!" Asmo started to say, and then you kicked his foot as you shot him a warning glance. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Very special," he said in a monotone.

Lucifer tried to keep his eyes down to his own plate, but he couldn't help but steal glances at you. You were your typical self to everyone, except him. It was as if he were a ghost, or just simply did not exist in your mind anymore, treating him as if he were a painting on the wall, paying him no attention and not sparing any glances his way.

"Satan, I promise to still have dinner here. I don't want to overstay my welcome. I know they're busy and don't need to look after me twenty-four seven," you said. There was a slight jab in there toward the eldest, but again, you bypassed any looks with him in favor of looking to the brother that was speaking, unless it was him, then your plate was far more entertaining than anything in the room.

After breakfast, the day proceeded as normal, until you learned there was a Student Council meeting after classes.

There, Diavolo introduced the exchange program policies you had helped to develop, and he was looking for any last objections or changes to them before adding them to the handbook. There were some questions that you answered flawlessly. One such came from the eldest, to which, you answered as if he were anyone else, by still maintaining your cordial demeanor, hiding your disdain and hard feelings toward him. Everyone intimately more aware of the situation, namely Diavolo, Barbatos, and Mammon were rather impressed you reacted so coolly to everything, but then again, you were one to always put your image and pride first, so it shouldn't have been that surprising.

Lucifer wasn't sure what to make of you when you finally looked at him in the eye. You were operating as if he never broke your heart, as if he never drove you away by analyzing how you now spoke with him. He remained neutral, however, internally he was combusting at the sight of you. Though you were clearly no longer his, the fact that you were even looking at him brought out his possessive side, one that he would have to let die now, because he doubted that you'd ever forgive him for his transgressions.

After the meeting, Diavolo told you he would be out of the castle for the evening, having political business to attend to, and you of course understood, but he promised that when he returned and had time, he'd like to play Devil Kart again with you. With a light chuckle, agreed.

While you conversed with the prince, Barbatos was watching Lucifer, who happened to be watching you two. Barbatos could see the fiery rage in Lucifer's eyes, and so the butler approached.

"Lucifer," he said calmly.

"Hello, Barbatos," Lucifer replied quietly.

"You seem troubled by something," Barbatos quipped, laying on thick he knew what was going on.

Lucifer looked to the butler and frowned, he said, "Not at all."

Just then, you gave Diavolo a hug and wished him luck on his political venture, to which Lucifer flinched. That was not the first time he had seen you hug someone else, clearly, but this time, it made him ache. As Lucifer turned away sharply, Barbatos gave a wicked grin, and muttered,

"Indeed."

----

Thanks for reading~ <3

Post made by sassykattery. Do not repost. Reblogs and comments appreciated.

Tags: @delphi-dreamin @leavesandflowers @itsmeninerz @ariamichel @obeymediasimp @frozengoldie @the-ghost-of-panda

Masterlist

#obey me #obey me fanfic #love-eternal #sassystories #sassywrites #i am literally mammon's biggest cockblock #obey me shall we date #obey me imagines

[marigoldsandbuttercups]

Hello hello~ I've been meaning to request some headcanons from you for ages, I adore your style of writing and your interpretation of the characters! So, could I ask you about how US and SF bros and UT grillby and Muffet would react to being shipwrecked in a remote island with nothing but the clothes on their backs? Could be with a S/O or best friend, with each other or just alone, you choose. Sorry if it's already been asked before! Thanks in advance, you're incredible~

(Hehe aww thanks, do not pay any mind to how late this UwU)

Washed Up

Blue: He's... Actually a lot calmer than you would think. Or well, that's what you think. He's pretty good at keeping a straight face or a calm facade but he does know what he's doing, for the most part. While *he* doesn't necessarily need to eat himself, he can't say the same for you. Most of his attention goes to you, making sure that you're healthy and not injured whilst trying to figure out how to get out of this.

He still has his more upbeat personality, but you can tell some days where it's a bit off and he can't shake off the anxiety that's just looming over him. In his effort of looking after you and trying to keep you safe whilst finding a way out, he won't pay any attention to himself, make sure to look after him (even if this means forcing him to sleep by wrestling him into it-)

Stretch: "Oh boy... Oh boy, y/n, we're really in it, now.. " Stretch tries, he really does, but man, he's the biggest worrywart ever. He can't even think to cover his fear because of just how anxious he feels and trust me, his anxiety will rear it's ugly head as soon as it dawns on him what's going on. After being assured by you (and him checking on you once he's calmed down), he's pretty resourceful (how he can climb trees is beyond you but it works-)

That doesn't mean his carefree, goofy self is gone. While he's a little more nervous than usual, it can be quelled for a bit when he's with you and crackling jokes, his worries melting away when you roll your eyes or giggle at his jokes. He does think if it weren't for you being there, he'd be in shambles.

Black: Is probably one of the few people who's somehow prepared for everything and anything. As soon as you both realize what's going on, he's quick to react, making sure that you are unharmed before deciding to build a shelter first. He's super resourceful, and you get to see what his training may have been like as he climbs trees and sneaks upon predators if there are any.

Is your best bet if you were to be stranded anywhere, he refuses to sit still.

Which... Isn't all that good for his own health. He doesn't really think much for his own well-being since he doesn't heavily depend on food like you do. But that doesn't mean the tiredness doesn't creep in. You would have to force him to sit down for a bit and actually debate him on why he should be sleeping for more than two hours a night-

Rus: "Aw ffs-" While he doesn't seem like the type to have it all together, you're only semi correct- Rus is resourceful, and smart when he wants to use those braincells for other things aside from memes. Being Black's younger brother meant that he too was no exception from training. Whatever you need, he's got it, (with a few trial and errors, of course-) but for the most part, he does a good job at keeping you safe.

But it's only during the late nights when you're alone that you get to see the side that he hides around you. One full of anxiousness and worry as he mulls over what could happen, if he can keep you safe for as long as possible. He doesn't try to push you away if you bring it up to him, but expect him to be surprised since he wouldn't really mention it.

Muffet: Well... This is, an interesting scenario. Having once been in a tough spot while she was underground, Muffet is no stranger to having to improvise on how improve her living situation. With that being said, you may or may not be subjected to unique concoctions of food and drinks crafted by her. It's relatively safe, but whether the effects make you feel funky or not is... Debatable. Being a spider, she instinctively knows the best places for shelter, as well as it being comfortable to house the two of you, of course.

She does express worry, not wanting to be in a similar situation such as in her past. But with you around, it's not so bad, the added company does help her ease up from her nerves. You may not see this side very often as unlike Milord, Muffet actively does try to push those thoughts away. She's got to keep her poise regardless of her situation.

Grillby: Seems calm, almost too calm... But that's literally because he can't emote due to not really having a face... Or well, the basic components to make an expression- But this calmness he has is helpful, and he's aware of it and uses it to his best ability as it becomes night and he sees you worry. Besides the obvious things, becoming a literal nightlight and perfect for creating a fire when it's time to cook, he's very silent and like muffet, is creative.

If you weren't close to him, or really observant, you wouldn't realize that when he worries, his flame flickers ever so slightly. You only notice it when a rainstorm was brewing about as you two were seeking for shelter, thankfully finding one before it began pouring. He thinks a lot, wondering if anyone has an inkling that he's missing, that you would be okay. So many thoughts on his mind but he can't say any of them. What he can do, in the meantime however, is keep you safe and warm.

#undertale #undertale imagines #undertale muffet #undertale grillby #swapfell #underswap #underswap sans #underswap papyrus #swapfell sans #swapfell papyrus #undertale headcanons

[bs-el]

hey so if dark fountains causes objects to come to life, where do the objects in the dark worlds come from? I've been mulling over the chair page from the spamton sweepstakes in my head and I have some interesting ideas I wanna put down for me to reference later, like my layer theory last time.

So, one thing's for certain, the ferris wheel in Cyber World was created from the poster on the back wall. We don't know if the ferris wheel was alive but i'm willing to place a safe bet that it wasn't. If tangible objects become living things, then by all means that poster should have become a sort of living object with a ferris wheel theme, but that's not what happened, we got a ferris wheel instead.

furthermore, kris's sword is a pencil and susie's axe is heavily implied to be a hairbrush, so those are also objects that remained objects but changed form rather than coming to life upon entering the dark fountain. I'm trying to dig at this and figure out these two rules:

What determines if an object comes to life or becomes a different object?

What determines what object something will become when exposed to a dark fountain if it isn't going to come to life?

For Spamton's EX body and the ferris wheel, both of those were images of the things they eventually became in the dark world. From these two i could see the both rules being something akin to: objects that just refer to another object become that object in a dark world. So an image of a ferris wheel, referring to a ferris wheel, would simply become a ferris wheel in a dark world. but that instantly excludes the pencil and hairbrush as these are standalone objects that make no reference to anything [subject to change as chapters get released obviously].

So, i just took a 10 minute detour to look up some stuff and it seems like Kris starts the game with the pencil equipped in their weapon slot and I think that's all I really needed to know: the pencil has an association with being a weapon b/c it's equipped to kris's weapon slot. If you're talking about the pencil in deltarune you're referring to kris's weapon... so the pencil, being a reference to a weapon, becomes a weapon in the dark world.

I'm going to assume that this is how the rules work going forward in this post. If an object refers to something, it becomes that thing in the dark world. What i really want to know using this information is multifold:

If my layer theory is correct, would a picture of a something in the real world become that thing in the light world, then come to life in the dark world?

What happens if something in the dark world dies and thus becomes a non-living object?

What happens if you create an object that refers to something in a dark world? What does it become when brought to the light world?

...what happens if you inject DT into an object in a dark world to bring it to life? What does it become when brought into the light world?

We know what happens when something living is exposed to a dark fountain, it gets smaller and changes aesthetically, but otherwise remains the same person. If you were to go one layer up from that living being you'd end up with the object form of that being. For Spamton it's spam mail, for Susie it's the code that makes her function. Assumedly, one layer above that would have to be an object that makes reference to that, so in spamton's case it would be the code that lets you examine the spam emails that became spamton.

... so what of the case of berdly in the weird route?

He's either frozen to death or encased in ice when you close the fountain. If he died and thus became an object, his light world counterpart would be an object that refers to berdly's frozen body. If he was just encased in the ice, not dead but just unconscious, then we would have to determine if the ice itself is in reference to something. If not, then it would become an object that refers to the icy crystal. if the icy crystal IS an object that refers to something then it would become something else entirely in the light world, something we don't know about. It could be reasonably argued that the crystal is snow that is a grave, it is an ice crystal that refers to a grave.

Over the course of the last week i've been trying to figure out what objects that become other objects when moved down a layer become when moved up a layer. in berdly's case it seems like the next step up is a concept. The ice crystal that refers to a grave becomes the idea that berdly's current state is like being frozen in a death-like state. it's a conceptual ice prison that he's stuck in.

If this is the case then the flow would be concept > object that refers to something > object previously referred to > living object > smaller living object with aesthetic differences > repeat previous.

Theoretically, the Angel is a concept that's spoken frequently about in game, in even the light world. Therefor, if a dark world were to be created somewhere in or around the church, you might find an object that refers to the angel, like a scripture or tome, then if you were to somehow go down a layer further... into a darker world perhaps... you might find an angel (object). and if you went one layer further down into a yet darker world, you may finally find yourself face to face with The Angel. But that's just a theory, it's not like there's evidence that we might be trying to go a layer deeper and create dark fountains in dark worlds right guys? right?

So, there's a chair here. Or at least, it was a chair before it started to get "darker than dark" according to the lovely chair page from the spamton sweepstakes. This is where my layer theory kinda falls apart a bit, but just needs a bit of expanding. There's more than 3 layers, and they just keep going deeper and deeper getting darker and darker the further down you go. I'd like to think that the fact that the concept to living object pipeline is exactly four layers including the starting one lining up with "dark, darker, yet darker" is perfectly lined up on purpose but there's so little to it that i can't say for sure.

This theory also gets a big tricky if you consider that means that the concept of someone who lives in layer 2 (light world) like asgore would exist as a prevalent concept in layer -1... which could theoretically be true but there's no way to know since i labelled the real world as layer 1. So i think i want to rework my layers, i think. This gargantuan post is as good as any i think.

Layer 1: The Real World

Layer 2: The Code of Deltarune?

Layer 3: ???

Layer 4: The Light World

Layer 5: The Dark Worlds

Layer 6: The Darker Worlds

Layer 7: The Yet Darker Worlds (Angel's Heaven?)

I'd also be willing to wipe off the first two layers at this point and call the ??? layer the code, since that layer is here just to account for the unused text that's letting out a plea for help.

i don't know how to end this and i think i might just edit it later to add on more ideas. so here, have this as it is now! thanks for reading if you did. nya

#dr #deltarune #dr theory #deltarune theory #deltarune theories #dr theories #mini mii #xexe #layer