#speech in fiction

[morrisonrs]

The World's Calling Chapter 3: Rally

The 60-something candidates that were still left over were already nervous as hell about meeting with this kind of man. Outside of the building sat 30 Animalia, 20 Humans, and 10 standard Mechanoid units. While the weight of the camp was tense, the man who sat in front of them certainly didn’t match that tone. He was known as Viare Diamo. While he was known within the Union for fulfilling a more “hands-on” niche, his skin was as fair as any piece of silk, and his eyes were as blue as any sky. Auburn hair wrapped in a ponytail and a sharp smile looked out at the crowd of novices as he twirled a butterfly knife in his hands, in suspense for some fated moment. As Lucia pulled up a chair next to him, a look of disappointment entered his eyes, while a look of barely restrained annoyance entered hers.

As the two stared at each other with disdain in their eyes, it was at that moment that a lagomorphic beast-kin raised his hand.

“May I ask what we’re supposed to-”

Before the rabbit could even finish his sentence, an ashen gray blur flew between the paw gap of the lagomorph, and with a small buzz piercing through the air, it landed in the wall of Lucia’s former office space. The rabbit could only look down at his paw with gratefulness that it wasn't skewered.

With a simple whistle and look at the distance his blade traveled, Diamo could only say -

“God, I love doing that.”

Lucia responded to this statement by smacking her coworker in the back of the head.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed one of these days.”

Diamo could only look at her with a sly smile. “What? By some bolt-action idiot? It’s just a bit of hazing, Lucia. They’ll face worse as a Runner.”

“You’ll face worse if you don’t sit down and shut up. And stop with the knife throwing, we’re renting this place still.”

“I’ll have you know that these are premium steel throwing knives and they’re worth more than you’ll ever make.”

Lucia put a hand on her chin in thought. “How much do you think they’ll sell for if I melted them down? Since you love tossing them around so carelessly”, she sarcastically queried.

Diamo hugged himself and his sleeves rattled dramatically.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

As the both of them argued over the merits of decorative knife work over welding it to the owner's head, Rhys looked around at her fellow potential coworkers. The chrome heads were definitely the best out of all of them, outright reflective by how much they shined. She was also sure one of them was buzzing which did not help soothe the tenseness of the overall situation. The other species were wearing scraps and some looked about a day away from keeling over. Humans and beast-kin were known for being mangy and while not feral, they were certainly desperate. No one was completely sure what a Notary job required but with how the Union was going all in on advertisement and the meeting of the Heads, it was bound to be important. Jobs like this with this kind of security didn’t come often and they certainly weren’t going to be picky. While the Runner’s Union accepted everybody, their numbers and turnover rate were certainly something that turned people away. More of the sentient populace would’ve joined but they had their reasons.

One by one, the representatives of the major populace, save for the Mirepods, were put between Lucia and Diamo. All of them stood together, but at differing heights and different levels of presence. While Frida held her same energy of discipline and focus and Reimos a pillar of fear and respect, Ivy stood taller than them all, and eyes focused on her lacked respect or fear. The Mutts, the Lagomorphs, and all other subspecies looked at her with the oddest yet most familiar emotion to Ivy. Inherent Rejection. Finally, the pillars of the community properly gathered as the next man approached the stage. Vig Hartland.

One of the major issues of Mash-Al was that the different bickering societies that had crashed onto the planet’s seemingly endless surface had found themselves irreparably divided. Distance certainly played a factor of course, for it it's much easier to dehumanize a being when you are not within shooting distance. Numerous other factors played a role in strained relations between the species: the Mirepod Landpools, the Vegas Brigade, the Dran Damo catastrophe, and everything to do with the landing of the Mechanoids amongst other things. To put it simply, there was no shortage of issues that plagued any sustained attempt at diplomacy. However, among the few connecting threads that kept the Spheres attached like a patch among a patchwork quilt of conflict, there was Vig Hartland.

In the most basic terms, he was a larger-than-average man. Above average build, someone made for the hard labor and lifting heavy crates. Hartland radiated physical strength but he seemed to hold something more than that. Humankind and to an extent, the Animalia were all comfortable with him. However, it was his connection with the more sapient Mirepods that led to him holding a foothold above the average leader and his relationship with the Mechanoids that was his bridge to the elites. Yet above all, it was not his connection to these races but instead his disconnection from their interests. No matter the species, his services were free and no matter the job, he was willing. There was little magic in what he did and little enhancement other than pure strength, but that helped make him a pillar. He was as close to a hero as the world could get. A big man who walked softly with a big sword on his back. No.. no self-respecting blacksmith would ever call what he wielded a sword. What he carried on his back was an impossibly large hunk of jagged metal strapped together with a cloth hilt and enough steel wire to create 20 swords over. It was a walking time bomb for whenever the scrapyard steel would fall apart and the wire would explore and decimate whoever he was around. As he strode onto the stage, the eyes on him were some of respect, reverence even. He was defined by a solid darkness atop his hair broken by white streaks, an x-shaped scar crossing his right cheek, and within his eyes came a confidence of an unbreakable will. He need not speak, nor make a grand gesture. Simply a look out to the meager crowd and even those of a metallic persuasion somewhat understood the meaning of his presence. If he was here, either they would succeed, or they would perish. Both by his hand.

Shoa was less than impressed with the sight of him. A human but slightly bigger, he had seen that before back in the Metro but judging by the sight of people around him, other than the Mechanoids, they were all enraptured by him.

“Does it really take someone big to impress these people?”

If this Vig person was worth knowing about, he would’ve been informed but to be fair, with the amount of polio-stricken yeomen that were surprisingly prevalent during his journey outside the Mechanoid sphere, new developments were possible. As the large human took his seat, Shoa looked out to the rest of his associates. Other than the Mechanoids, they were unkempt, malnourished and some seemed to still contain oil and other greases on their person. Whatever matters they sought to accomplish here, they wouldn’t last too long. But they didn’t matter at this point, not right now at least.

From the gathering of the reps came the head. As Ivy approached the podium, and her people looked at her with a mix of respect and rebellion, her voice came with no hesitation, no doubt, and no sway. Only confidence and a cold professionalism matched only by the assurity of nature escaped her maw as she spoke.

“Animalia, Humans, and Mechanoids. We of the Runner’s Union thank you for volunteering your services to come here and be a part of a larger whole. For some of you, the trek here risked much more than employment and we will not waste that investment you’ve put into this effort. The journey you’ve taken was proof enough that you have the will and this will be the last trial you will have to undergo to prove you have the character to follow through.” As she extended her hand to gesture to the meat mountain behind her, Hartland stood up and the heft of his pressure seemed to resonate through the ground.

“You will accompany Hartland on a full journey to a Co-Op that has not been reachable as of late through the usual means of communication. The assumption is that this will be a matter of recovery. Reimos has fortunately provided multiple means of storage and transportation once you reach your location.

For Survival and For Love, may your journey resolve peacefully.”

As soon as she finished, Reimos stood to his feet and approached the board, pushing out Ivy in a way that was both dignified yet undercutting.

“For clarity, you will be walking with Hartland. Food, water, and temporary shelter will be given out per person after a headcount. Due to budgetary concerns, proper transportation will be delivered after your location is confirmed by your management. You are not disposable. If anything goes wrong, recover what you can while prioritizing your health and structural integrity.

For our Order and For the Future, you will succeed.”

The news hit like a hot wind to the face of a fever-ridden man. Discomfort spread through the crowd faster than a plague as the idea of such a walking so far began to truly set in. Many were only able to reach Waning Rock through a shared carriage ride from their respective major cities. This feeling was not assayed when the distance was pointed out to them by Frida.

“The journey will take 2 days at the minimum. Judging by the number of you, we have enough supplies to last for 5 if things get bad. Diamo was the last one there and according to his information, the path’s more an issue of length than quality. As long as you stay the course, nothing will happen.”

With that explanation out of the way, Frida shifted her position on the podium.

“Regarding your duties after with the Notary, it is with a pure belief in their decision making that you will be under their purview. The common Runner will act as government-sponsored guardsmen, tradesmen, to fulfill a swiss army knife’s worth of jobs due to the necessity of governmental cooperation.”

The mention of the swiss brought a more cheese-lined thought into the heads of those more unfamiliar with the expression.

“To be clear, A Runner holds no inherent loyalty to their government and their government holds only as much power as they cede to the Union. You are - by definition - a contractor. A Notary position is no different, only more consistent. To record information from the people as you are deployed among the spheres and beyond. To write, record, dictate, and whatever else to ensure that the common history stays away from the opinionated and stays as current as need be. People will try to mislead you, leave you high and dry, and for what you offer to the world, they will try to bury you. When we all found ourselves in this land, we were in disarray, self-destructive, but most of all divided. The fact that Union has held for years is proof that we grow not in synchronicity but instead as a group. Our strength is our unique skill set and our faith in our organization. For Tenacity and For All, we will all exceed ourselves!”

As Frida’s portion of applause came down, Vig Hartland began to approach the front of the crowd. Suspenseful eyes focused on the man and all sentient noise quickly ceased.

“... I understand some of you may be mad about the walk, but I assure you, it wasn’t my call.”

A small amount of chuckling rifted through the audience with the levity of an interrogation.

“I don’t really see myself as important to Union business as everyone else does but I’ve been given the platform, might as well use it for something good. Fact is, most of you weren’t prepared for a journey for what sounds like a desk job, but I know that you’re capable of it. This journey is not only proof of your commitment but your introduction to what the Union does within society. This journey isn’t about your Strength, Speed, or any one being’s quality. It is about our collective will to never give in to our own self-doubt or our own failures. We are all the pillars that hold this organization up and by our Strength, our Intelligence, and our Will that we continue to hold ourselves high. I promise that by my will, you will make it to our destination and by our will, you will return stronger than you were before. “

A hand as rough as sandpaper beat against a darkened chest. As Hartland’s black pupils looked out into the small crowd, they looked back into unwavering obsidian. Even with the joke, his words were as firm as the steel on his back. There was not a droplet of doubt in his voice nor overconfidence in his motions. If he stated at that moment that he would hold back every evil that existed, no argument against his ability would ever be able to form.

“For all of us, I swear myself to you.”

#The World's Calling #original fiction #original writing #adventure #robot #robot people #speech in fiction #speech #original character #original content

[captainkirkk]

I love reading kid fics but I can't turn off my speechie brain when I'm reading them and it's obvious the writer isn't familar with developmental norms. What do you MEAN this 4 year old is only babbling or pointing to request but everyone says he's "doing wonderfully"???? I'M STRESSED OUT

#and don't even get me started on when they mark speech sound errors #what do you mean this child is dropping off the first sound in all his words #my posts #please get these fictional children into speech therapy

[super-paper]

The rest is confetti.

(My Hero Academia x The Haunting of Hill House)

Had a particularly violent revelation about what AFOhouse reminds me of a couple days ago and decided I had to make this.

#Nell's parting speech will forever be one of my top ten moments in fiction so I couldn't resist #anyway i hope Horikoshi gets to write a horror manga at his own pace in the future because it's clearly his element #my hero academia #shimura tenko #shigaraki tomura #long post #all for one #the haunting of hill house

[ichverdurstehier]

I'm very pro-fanfiction but for the love of Jjong please tag your fics properly. If there's incest, tag it for incest. If there's an age gap, tag it for age gap. If there's grooming, tag it for grooming. If there's a character with a vagina involved in the ship, DON'T tag it m/m. Vaginas are female organs.

TAG YOUR FICS!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!!

#proship #pro fanfiction #pro fiction #pro expression #self expression #freedom of speech #freedom of mind #freedom of expression #ao3 #archive of our own #fanfiction

[magnusbae]

"...You had to be able to show too much of yourself. You had to be just a little bit more honest than you were comfortable with. And if people judged you, if they felt they knew who you were, that was just something that you were going to have to live with. And what was strange is, once I started doing that, and I was expecting to be judged, or shunned, or people’s opinions or to have to deal with things, what I discovered was, actually, their opinions were, we really like this. We love this story. That’s a good story. It felt huge. It felt personal. And I realized that’s because I was being honest about me.“ —Neil Gaiman

#It was such a lovely speech. I really enjoyed hearing it and I wished to have it here as well. You can youtube it. His name and Masterclass. #Neil Gaiman #The Sandman #How many of you squinted and saw Dream. #Neil Gaiman Masterclass #Dream of the Endless #You know what I WILL tag it because and I will explain #You can really see the parts of himself that Neil put into Dream #This interview more than any truly shows you some of that #Dream is essentially a creator of stories too— One who is not good at being honest with himself— One who too has a facility of voices. #Frankly— How old were you when you saw Neil's little 'self insert' OC and went 'Ah yes. Here he is.' #Also the fact that Neil always wears black and has a messy hair. #Love it. #Quote Edit #Writing Advice #Writing Fiction #buns.edits #buns.all

[bucketsofmonsters]

Hunting Season

cw: trophy hunting of sentient creatures, severe leg injury, oral sex, fingering, thigh humping

fem jackalope hybrid x afab reader

Word count: 8k

You hated hunting season. You moved out here, all the way to the woods, to escape people and yet every year they came, the worst people you could possibly imagine. Every summer stupid men came into your forest with their guns and their traps and every year it infuriated you. You wouldn’t be so mad if they were hunting for food, that you understood, but almost all of them were trophy hunters. 

You set off on your daily ritual of trying to set off all the traps they’d set this morning so no one would get caught in them. 

Your head jerked up as the sound of distant wailing pierced through the quiet of the forest. You took off. If you’d heard it, then it was only a matter of time before someone else did. 

As you got closer to the noise, you realized that it sounded human and you cursed, knowing a hybrid had gotten stuck in one of their traps. 

You approached slowly, making sure no one else was around. Your relationships with the hunters were already strenuous. They knew you were setting off all of their traps, if they knew you were also setting their prey free… well, you weren’t sure what they might do but you were certain it wouldn’t be good.

The first thing you saw, hidden away amongst the leaves, was a set of antlers. They poked up above the foliage as you crept up slowly. 

Through the leaves you saw a girl, around your age, with a pair of long fluffy ears that were tucked down behind her antlers overtop her mousy hair. The flattened ears matched her terrified expression, her cheeks wet with tears as she kept desperately clawing at her leg. 

You didn’t even think jackalope hybrids existed, thought they were an urban legend hunters told each other about. And yet there she was, panicked and crying and very much real. 

As you began to approach, her big ears perked up. They were nestled behind her antlers, her nose twitching as you moved through the foliage. 

Big, teary brown eyes met your own as you emerged from your hiding spot. As soon as she saw you she tugged urgently at her leg, which was wedged firmly between the teeth of the metal trap. The only thing she succeeded in was getting digging the metal further into her flesh as she desperately tried to pull away. 

You took a step back in an attempt to get her to stop moving. “Hey, I’m not here to hurt you but if you keep moving like that you’re going to hurt yourself even worse. 

She tried to thrash away from you, muttering no to herself as she was painfully rooted in place. 

“You need my help to open this kind of trap, just please stay still,” you pleaded with her. 

She listened, freezing in place, wet eyes looking expectantly at you as you edged closer. 

As soon as you were within reach you got to work compressing the springs on either side of the trap to free her. After a few substantial pushes the trap fell open and you quickly latched it that way before pushing it away from the both of you. 

The poor girl immediately tried to stand up and collapsed, her injured leg not allowing her to put any weight on it. You went down with her, pulling her arm over your shoulder to help her stand. “There you go, sweetheart, just lean on me. That’s it, there you go.”

She eagerly leaned into your side, putting almost all of her weight on you. There was no attempt to fling herself away this time and you weren’t sure if it was because you’d earned her trust or because she’d realized she had no other options. 

Either way, you needed to get her to safety, and fast. 

Your pace was slower than you would have liked. You’d have preferred to attempt to carry her but you got the distinct feeling that would spook her even further.

Luckily you weren’t too far from your cabin and you managed to make your way back without encountering anyone. 

You pulled her through the door, quickly shutting it behind you, closing her off from any prying eyes. If anyone saw her, you weren’t sure there was anything you could do to stop them. 

“You’re helping me?” She said it like she couldn't quite believe it, like she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. You had a feeling only time would take away that instinct. There wasn’t anything you could say to make it go away right now, it was too ingrained in her. 

The most you could do was help her with gentle hands and a soft voice. 

“Yup. Come on, up here.” You shifted her onto your bed, the blood from her injured leg seeping into the sheets. 

You cursed under your breath as you realized that all that was left of your first aid supplies was an old roll of gauze and a half empty box of bandaids. Certainly not enough to fix this. You grabbed some vodka and a clean rag, determined to do the best you could to sanitize it before wrapping it up, or at least to remove some of the grime it was currently covered in. 

The wound was barely visible, clots of blood and dirt streaked across her, spread everywhere from her writhing on the ground. 

“This is going to hurt,” you warned her as you soaked the cloth, hoping she understood that this had to be done. 

She drew back a little back a little before nodding and grabbing a handful of your sheets in preparation as you knelt by her injured leg. 

The little shriek she let out as the vodka soaked rag touched her wounds broke your heart. You were going to string those hunters up the second you got the chance. 

The more blood and dirt you pulled away, the better you could to see the gashes in her leg. They were even worse than you’d imagined. She’d clearly been trying to pull herself out for a while before you got there. 

“Really hurts,” she whimpered out.

“I know hun, but we have to get you cleaned up. I promise I’ll be quick, we’re almost done.”

You dabbed at her wounds as gingerly as you could, trying to distract her from the pain by talking while you cleaned her up.

“Your english is really good.”

She swayed back and forth a little, a proud smile crossing her face. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I know very little about your language, I’ve looked but it’s very hard to find anything about it.”

“Secret,” she said with a wince.

“Oh, is it? I had no idea.”

You’d left the worst part for last but you’d run out of opportunities to avoid it. 

Too nervous to get near it, you opted instead to empty what was left of the bottle onto her leg. As you did, she grabbed your unoccupied hand, squeezing it as hard as she could. 

The bottle ran empty and you looked up to see her with her eyes shut tight and her jaw clenched. 

You stood up to go get the gauze you had left and she tentatively opened one eye at the sound of your retreat. At the sight of her bloody leg she promptly shut it again. You couldn’t blame her, it was hard for you to look at and it wasn’t even your blood. 

You grabbed the old gauze from inside your half forgotten first aid kit and promised yourself that soon you’d go into town and gather more supplies so next time you needed it you’d be prepared. 

Your heart sank at the thought of there being a next time, at the idea that no matter how hard you tried, you could never stop this from happening. 

That there would always be some you couldn’t get to in time. 

You shook the thought out of your head. Worrying about them wouldn’t fix anything. All you could do was care for the one you’d managed to save. 

“Do you have a name?”

She nodded, her ears shifting as she did. “Posy.”

“Well, Posy, you should get some rest. I’ve gotta go out for a while but you’ll be safe in here.”

She glanced around the room nervously, eyes grazing over the furniture. She must have found her surroundings satisfactorily safe because after a few moments she fell backwards onto the bed, nestling into the blankets. 

Despite the fact that she seemed content, you were hesitant to leave her alone. The only thing that managed to send you out that door was the thought that she might not be the only one. 

Night was falling but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You knew these woods more than well enough to navigate in the dark and god knows you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, you knew your mind wouldn’t stop racing long enough to allow you to rest. 

You set off the rest of the traps you could find before returning home, breaking and displacing all the ones that you could. They’d already done far more damage than you would have liked. 

Thankfully, every trap you came across was untripped. You already felt in over your head, you weren’t sure you could take care of any more injured creatures. 

You half expected her to be gone when you got back. 

Instead, she was out cold on the bed, curled up around a pillow she was hugging close to her chest.  She was lit up by the rays of the sunrise creeping through the gaps in your drawn curtains. 

She jerked awake at the sound of the door closing. She tried to bolt upright before being stopped by a painful reminder of why she was in your bed in the first place.

She pulled her legs up towards her, tucking them into herself and inspecting the bloody bandages she had wrapped around her calf. 

“How’re you feeling,” you asked, careful to keep your distance so you didn’t scare her even more. 

“Bad.”

You nodded solemnly. “Yeah, it’s going to be like that for a while, you hurt yourself pretty badly. But it’ll heal, I’ll make sure you’ll be okay, you don’t have to worry.”

Her head cocked to the side and she studied you from her position on the bed. 

“Do you want something to eat?” you asked as she surveyed you. 

She nodded hesitantly. 

Her big eyes watched you carefully as you put a pot on the stove, lighting the fire under it. She moved closer, hopping so as not to put weight on her injured leg and quickly settling in on the floor, positioning herself so she was eye level with the flame.

“Be careful, don’t burn yourself,” you called back as you grabbed a can of soup from the pantry, sticking to something with vegetables in it and hoping that jackalope hybrid’s diets weren’t too dissimilar from bunny hybrids. 

“I’m not stupid.” She pouted at you before returning to her fire watching. “How did you make fire so fast?”

She chose her words slowly and intentionally, working her way through the question while you busied yourself with heating up the soup for the two of you, letting her figure out the words in her own time. 

“Um, there’s gas in the stove and the knob makes a little spark that lights it.”

“Gas?”

“Mmhmm.”

“It’s warm in here all night.” It was more of a statement than an observation but you understood what she was asking. 

“Yeah, that’s because of a fire too, it’s a heating system. What do you guys normally do at night?”

“We stay close and sheltered.”

“Well, we’re sheltered here, and we’re pretty close.”

She shook her head. “No, closer.”

“Like cuddling?”

Posy nodded. 

“How do you speak English so well?”

“I learned. We all did.”

“Why?”

“To talk our way out of trouble. If you can’t escape, make them like you. Buys time.”

“You know you don’t have to do that with me, right? You can say or do whatever you want to, I’m going to take care of you either way.”

“Why?”

“It’s the decent thing to do. Unfortunately for you, decency is not a universal trait but I promise, no harm will come to you here. Be as much of a little shit as you want.”

She scrunched up her nose as she smiled. “Challenge accepted!”

“Not quite how I meant it.”

She ignored you in favor of staring at the stove as you worked around her. 

Eventually, you broke her little hypnotic spell as you announced, “Food’s done. Do you like tea?”

She shrugged. “What is it?”

“It’s good, you should try it.”

You couldn’t exactly ask her how she liked her tea so instead you opted to put some sugar in it and hope for the best. 

“Do you need help?” you asked as you looked down at her sitting on the floor. 

“With what?”

“With moving to the table. Come on, I’ll…”

“No. Stay here.”

You weren’t sure if she actually wanted to stay on the ground or if the thought of you helping her up wounded her pride. Either way, you weren’t going to fight her on it. 

“Alright. Is this seat taken?” you asked, gesturing at the floor next to her.

She shook her head with a giggle and you settled down next to her, setting two bowls of soup and two mugs of tea on the floor. 

She took a sip out of the mug and scrunched up her nose.

“Too hot.”

“Well, you have to let it cool down first. The soup should be better, I didn’t bring it to a full boil”

She picked up the bowl, ignoring the spoon in favor of sipping directly from it. 

“What is this?” she asked, giving it a curious look. 

“It’s just soup, I get it from the store when I go out.”

“Store?”

“Yeah, it’s where I go to get food.”

“You don’t make it. What do you do with all your forages?”

“Oh, I don’t forage.”

She seemed baffled by this revelation. “Why?”

“I don’t know, I guess I don’t really know how.”

“You live here? And you don’t know how?” she asked incredulously.

“Hey, I’m not stupid either, I just never needed to learn. We all have blind spots.”

“You should learn. This is disgusting.”

“Sorry, but I’m afraid you’re gonna be eating a lot of this stuff until I can get you back on your feet.”

She made no attempt to mask her pout and you couldn’t help but laugh as you added, “Just think of it as motivation to get better faster.”

She didn’t seem convinced by your arguments but was too hungry to care. She practically inhaled her food, despite her less than glowing review regarding its taste. 

The tea was more of a hit, her first sip not leaving her questioning your survival skills at the very least. 

After a few more tastes she announced, “This is fine.”

“I’m glad it’s to your liking.”

And honestly, you really were. You were incredibly happy to see her settling in, the jumpiness from before all but gone. 

She looked up from an empty bowl, clutching a still warm mug in her hands. “What now?”

“I don’t normally have guests, I don’t really know how all of this works. Do you want to watch a movie?” It felt like an absurdly pedestrian thing to ask someone who’d almost been hunted for sport the day before but you got the sense she’d appreciate the distraction. 

“What’s a movie?”

“I can show you, c’mon, they’re over here.”

You didn’t have any real service out here in the woods, but what you did have was an old tv and a box of vhs tapes. They were all grainy and in black and white but if she didn’t even know what a movie was, you couldn’t imagine Posy would be particularly picky about the quality. 

You picked something light and hit play. Her eyes widened the second the tv lit up with a picture, scrambling to get a closer look. 

“How does it do that?” she asked, her eyes unblinking as she stared at it. 

“I’m not really sure to be honest, it’s a bit above my paygrade.”

She scooted across the floor to the back of the tv, searching for the origin of the little moving image. 

You let her explore, settling down on the couch as she moved across the floor. Eventually, she settled down with her back against the couch, leaning her head against your leg. 

“Hi there,” you said, looking down at the girl and wondering whether or not you should join her on the floor. 

She tilted her head back, looking up at you with big eyes. “Hello.”

She didn’t seem partial to personal space, nuzzling into you as she watched. 

As the movie neared its close you weaseled away from her and got up from your seat to try and clean up while she was distracted. You didn’t want to remind her about some of the messier things that were still lying around. 

Despite her wonder at the movie, she stopped and turned to instead watch you. 

You went to make the bed, removing all the bloody blankets and replacing them with clean ones, tossing everything covered in blood into the trash. You had a feeling they wouldn’t be salvageable. 

“I can sleep on the floor tonight, you can take the bed,” you called over to her.

She looked at you like you’d lost your mind. “No, you won’t.”

“Please, you’re hurt, I can’t ask you to sleep down there.”

“I don’t want to sleep on that thing,” she said, eyeing your bed distastefully. 

You ceded the floor to her after it became clear she would not budge on her position. 

Later that night, you awoke from the feeling of something moving around you. As you gathered your bearings, you felt someone nestle into your chest and you realized that Posy had risen from her spot on the floor and had instead opted to wrap her arms around you.

She was looking for comfort. It didn’t take a genius to figure that much out. 

You never could have done this, been as brave as her, sought out comfort like this when you needed it. There was courage in the gesture you couldn’t help but admire, a distinct bravery in the vulnerability. 

You ran your fingers through her hair and her grip on you only got tighter, pleading you to stay with her. You’d just felt her get into the bed and wrap herself around you but she seemed to already be drifting off in your arms. 

“I’ve got you,” you muttered, positioning yourself to try and make sure you wouldn’t get whacked by her antlers in your sleep.

It didn’t take long for you to drift off. You hated to admit it but maybe the closeness didn’t just help her. 

You were just as close when you woke up the next morning, her head resting on your shoulder and her arms wrapped around you.

“I thought you said you preferred the floor,” you said with a chuckle as she shifted further beneath the blankets, still attached to your side.

“I do. I dont like sleeping alone.”

“No, I don’t think I do either. Well, you’re welcome to stay up here, I don’t mind.”

“Mkay,” she said, sounding like she was drifting off again. “This thing is more comfortable than it looks.”

Before she could succumb to the newfound wonders of your blankets and the mattress, you nudged her awake. 

“Come on, there’ll be time for that later, we need to get those bandages changed.”

She looked nervous about the proposition and you tried to cede ground and make the vulnerable position she was in feel a little less scary. “You can change them yourself if you want, I understand if you don’t want me near your injuries.” 

She looked up at you from her spot on the pillow, a timidness present now that certainly hadn’t been there moments before. Her ears were the telltale sign, rising from their relaxed position and stiffening back. “Can you help?” 

“Of course I can,” you reassured her. “Your wish is my command.”

“Be careful what you promise, who knows what I’ll ask for,” she said with a smile, her ears falling back into place at your words. 

“Aren’t you a little tyrant in the making? Come on then, let’s take care of that leg so you can get right to bossing me around.”

She pulled her leg up next to you, wincing a little as she did. You pretended not to notice. 

Your brain ran through contingencies as you bound her injuries. So many things could go wrong with her being here, you weren’t prepared for this. 

You barely had the supplies to tend to her injuries, let alone keep her safe and hidden. 

“Have you been through your mating season?” you asked, trying to figure out exactly where you stood. 

She nodded, ears bobbing up and down as she did. Her dark eyes shone with mischief. “Why are you asking?”

Realistically, it was because her going into heat in your cabin could cause a world of problems. The last thing you needed was to attract more attention to her presence here. Other hybrids might not hurt her but a congregation of them outside wouldn’t exactly be discreet. 

That didn’t feel like the right thing to say though, so instead you opted for a playful, “I can’t be curious?”

“Maybe. I could show you sometime, if you wanted.”

“Yeah?” you said with a laugh, her enthusiasm infectious. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer one of these days.”

Her cheeks flushed, despite her being the one to propose the idea and you got the distinct impression her teasing was not going to plan. “I thought humans were prudes.”

“Come on, am I anything like the humans they told you about?”

She sighed, knowing when she’d lost. “No.”

She was even cute when she was pouting, it wasn’t fair. 

“I’m gonna go out and make sure no one else got caught in those traps, okay? I hope that pretty smile of yours is back when I get back or else…”

“Or else?”

You hadn’t quite thought that far ahead. “Or else I’ll find out if you’re ticklish, how’s that sound?”

She giggled, her arms moving over her stomach defensively at the mere thought. “Anything but that,” she pleaded.

“There’s that smile again. See you in a few hours.” Before you could really think about your actions you pressed a quick kiss into her cheek. The second her arms dropped in surprise you poked her in the stomach, leaving the cabin as you heard cries of protest behind you.

She was sitting cross legged right inside the door when you got home, her ears perked up and at attention. The second you crossed through the doorway she sprung up, practically tackling you. 

She pressed kisses into both of your cheeks in what you could only describe as an attack. 

“I win.”

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me. What was that for?”

“You poked me!”

“Only because you let your guard down.” You took another easy shot and poked her again 

“You’re doing better,” you noted. She was still significantly favoring her left leg, the right one almost hovering above the floor as she stood, but the fact that she was standing and moving at all was frankly incredible. “Healed enough for a sneak attack.”

“Healed enough for revenge,” she said with a smile and a nod.

There was no way that she had significantly healed in the few hours you were gone. You could see it in every movement, she was just as hurt as she’d been this morning. 

The change in her disposition seemed more tied to her growing comfort around you than anything. 

You wanted to keep that going, make sure she felt welcome here, felt at home. You swore you’d put even more effort into it and make sure she knew she was cared for. 

It was that promise to yourself that led you to making homemade cookies for your newfound roommate. 

You swatted her hand away from the bowl as she snuck another bite of cookie dough away from you.

“You’re going to make yourself sick, you shouldn’t eat that.”

She just giggled, intent on ignoring your protests.

“Well, when we don’t have enough cookies we’ll both know who to blame.”

That seemed to get through to her, her eyes widening as she surveiled the bowl. “You’ll make more for me, right?”

“I’m not your personal chef,” you protested. 

That didn’t stop you from caving and making her more cookies. You were certain even the strongest will couldn’t withstand those big, sad eyes. They were a powerful weapon and she knew it.

Eventually you managed to get a full batch of cookies into the oven, despite Posy making every attempt to stop you. 

While the cookies were baking, you hopped up on the counter and watched Posy on the floor, her preferred seat. 

You tilted your head, getting a better look at her as she stared down at her feet. Normally she stared up at you endlessly but now she seemed lost in thought.

“What’re you thinking about,” you prodded.

“Just wondering if anyone’s worried about me.”

“I’m sure people are. Do you have any family?”

She nodded.  “Yeah, a big one. I have five sisters, Rose, Violet, Poppy, Lily, and Daisy, she’s the only one younger than me. I was out with her right before I got caught, was getting her home, I had her run when there was trouble.”

“And they’re jackalopes like you?”

She nodded. “There aren’t many of us outside the family though.”

“Do you know what happened to the rest?”

“People happened to them. Not my family though. They’re very very safe, they never let me go out.”

“I’m sure they miss you, I’ll try and find them next time I go out, tell them you’re okay.”

She shrugged. “I go missing a lot, they always say I’m trouble. Everyone else is always home but I get restless, stuck in there.” She rubbed her injured leg as she spoke, the other one bouncing up and down nervously. 

“Well, we’ll make sure you can tell them you’re okay as soon as we can, when you get all healed up and are able to get back into trouble.”

“Do you get restless?”

“Not really, I like staying put. I do like rescuing you though. How about you keep getting into trouble and I’ll keep rescuing you, deal?”

You stuck out your hand, leaning towards the floor as much as you could so she could reach you. 

She stared at it like you were crazy, moving around it to see if you were secretly holding something.

“You shake it,” you whispered to her. “That’s how we humans make deals.”

She took it and gave it a violent shake. 

“Yeah, just like that,” you laughed. 

Your little timer went off and you hopped down from the counter to pull the cookies out. Per usual, Posy did not wait for the food to cool before trying them, scooping a collapsing cookie into her mouth.

“Are they to your liking, m’lady,” you teased her.

“Better than your soup.”

You scoffed and swatted at her as she leaned away, collapsing to the floor in a fit of giggles. 

“You’re lucky you’re so cute or that mouth of yours might get you into some real trouble.”

A blush began to bloom beneath her facefull of freckles. “I thought you said I wasn’t trouble?”

“I said I didn’t mind and that I’d rescue you, I never said you weren’t trouble. Even I wouldn’t go making claims like that, especially not after you stole my cookies.”

Your little attempts to make her feel welcome got more and more frequent, despite feeling less and less necessary. 

On one of your trips through the forest, you found some lavender, picking some for her without a second thought, leaving a little bouquet of them on the pillow next to her sleeping head. 

It wasn’t uncommon for you to be able to come and go without Posy ever waking. As her initial jumpiness faded, you found out that she was an incredibly deep sleeper. 

She was sleeping in bed with you every night, the cuddling never ending, even when you weren’t sleeping.

When the summer nights got too warm she kicked the blankets off the both of you, staying firmly attached to your side all the while. 

Without a concerted effort from you to get her to move, she’d stay nestled into the covers most of the time. 

There were, as there always are, exceptions to the rule. 

When you got back home, you found her sitting at the door with a sprig of lavender in her hair and the rest clutched in her hands. She was just as excited to see you as ever, already shouting out thank yous and springing up to give you a hug, being able to put a little more weight on her injured foot every time she jumped up to greet you. 

She was getting better and better at English as well, her already amazing English constantly improving. She was an incredibly fast learner. She could hear you use a word once or twice and pick up its meaning almost immediately. 

She’d started picking up curse words from you, which you found endlessly amusing. Her soft, sweet voice would let out an impatient “fuck” and you couldn’t help but snort out a laugh. 

The whole ordeal made her quite cross. She insisted she was just mimicking you and there wasn’t anything funny about it. You unconvincingly reassured her that of course it wasn’t, not funny at all, all spoken behind a smile. 

You, on the other hand, were a little slower with her langugae

She was willing to share but replicating her words was more difficult than you’d anticipated. It had sounds you were unfamiliar with, little clicks and shifts in tone you’d never had to make before.

You’d asked her about her family names, if they were translations or if they just happened to line up with english words

“I translated them. The meaning’s what’s important anyways.”

“What is your real name?”

“Posy is my real name.”

“But how would you say it?”

She made one of the noises you were becoming more and more familiar with. It was more subtle than any word you’d ever heard before, almost being mistakable for a sound of the trees rustling or the wind outside. 

You did your best to repeat back what she’d said and immediately knew you’d gotten it wrong based on her snickering. 

It took a few tries but eventually you got it right. 

“Call me Posy though.” she added. “The meaning is what matters.”

“Yeah okay, I will” 

As you sat there, mulling over the secret words she’d been gifting you, you blurted out a question you’d been unable to shake. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do! Did you really think I might not trust you?” She seemed more hurt by the question than anything. 

Did you? “Not really. I think I just wanted to hear you say it. 

She thought for a minute and then shot back a question of her own. “Why did you get me flowers?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I thought you might like them. Did you?”

“Mmhmm.” she nodded enthusiastically. “The thing is… I’ve just heard things about humans and giving people flowers.”

You felt your cheeks begin to warm and tried to play it off. “Have you? Good things or bad things?”

She shrugged. “Just things.”

You had an idea where she might have been getting these ideas from. 

Her obsession with movies was there from the start. She was endlessly fascinated by the moving images and your inability to explain to her how they worked only seemed to fuel her fascination. You were certain she was going to wear through your vhs tapes. 

Her fascination seemed to warp over time, however. You noticed the movies she’d keep watching, the fixation on romance movies growing steadily the more she consumed. 

For the fifth time this week alone you came home to her watching an old black and white romance, her nose practically touching the screen. 

“Is it true humans mate for life?” she asked as you settled in next to her. 

“Sometimes. Depends on the human.”

“Oh. What about you human?”

“Maybe. I suppose I’d just have to find the right person. Or the right bunny.”

Her face immediately lit up with no attempt to hide it

“I think I like human romance.”

“What, no one ever get you flowers before?”

“We get each other flowers. We just don’t have partners. It seems nice.”

“You could have a partner, nothing’s stopping you.”

“Nothing?”

You slid down from the couch next to her on the floor. “Nope, nothing. Which one’s your favorite?”

She rushed over to your collection of tapes. Her movement was practically normal now. She was still favoring her left side but it seemed more out of habit than from her injury, being fully capable of forgetting all about it and darting about when she got excited. 

She wasted no time before getting comfortable, clamoring up into your lap and nuzzling into you as the movie began. 

You should get more tapes for her, you thought offhandedly before realizing there might not be a point. She was practically healed and as much as you tried to forget it, she would eventually leave. 

You had no clue how to bring up the topic, how to suggest that maybe she could visit you despite knowing that everyone she knew and loved would want her to stay far away from you the second they got her back. 

Maybe you were being selfish by not talking about it, trying to keep her with you as long as possible. Frankly, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

She noticed your mind drifting and brought you back to reality with an elbow to the side. You let out an oof and shot an accusatory glance her way but she was staring at you with frantic eyes. 

“This is the best part,” she insisted. “You can’t miss it.”

You turned back to the screen just in time to catch the climax of the movie. The music swelled, the camera zoomed in, and the pair on your screen finally kissed. 

She must have this movie memorized by now but Posy still seemed utterly entranced by the scene in front of her. 

“I’ve kissed some people, but never like that,” she informed you, her eyes still glued to the screen. 

You wanted to kiss her like that. You wanted to kiss her every way she wanted to be kissed, to show her a romance to rival all of her little movies. 

But what if that wasn’t what she wanted? What if she was just a friend showing another friend a movie and you’d misread every signal. 

Posy put those doubts right out of your mind, staring at you with resolve as she clearly hinted, “If only someone would kiss me like that.”

You laughed out, “you dumbass,” before leaning in, slowly, carefully, intentionally, just like in her little movie, with all the love in the world in your eyes.

You shut them the moment before you made contact, her hands immediately coming up to cup your face, holding you close. 

You fell into the kiss immediately. It just felt right, you fit together perfectly. You were pressed up against each other but you kept trying to pull her closer, wanting more. 

The tip of her tongue teased at the seam of your mouth until you let her in, deepening the kiss.

Her legs fell to either side of your thigh and she slid herself forwards and back, letting out little whimpers into your mouth. 

You pushed your leg up into her grinding, encouraging her.  

You broke the kiss for a second, muttering out, “Do you want to…”

She nodded and cut you off as she pushed her lips back into yours.

You tried to lead the two of you back towards the bed while she refused to let you go, causing you to slightly misjudge how far away you were from it and go tumbling down onto the sheets, giggling into each other as you fell. 

You guided her onto her back, pulling your shirt off as she desperately pulled hers off, dragging you back down while your arms were still wrapped up in its sleeves. You struggled to pull it the rest of the way off and throw it to the floor while she trailed kisses down your neck. 

Your hand slipped under the waistband of her pants, and you gently slid your fingers inside her. She was so wet they slid inside with no resistance, her walls fluttering around your fingers. 

You kissed your way down her body, pulling her pants off as you went. As you did, you found something you hadn’t known existed. A little white tail sat right above her ass. 

“What’s this?” you asked as you shifted her onto her side to get a better look. 

She rolled back onto her back, hiding the tail from sight once more. “Don’t be mean,” she pouted. 

“I’m not! It’s cute.”

You leaned down to press kisses into her thigh as she tried to pull you up where she wanted you.

Eventually you gave in to her pleas, your fingers continuing to crook upwards inside of her as you pressed gentle kisses to her clit. She bucked into your face, wanting more.

You hooked your arms around her plush thighs to get her even closer to you, focusing more of your attention on her clit as she started to squirm, lapping and sucking at it. As she got closer to her climax her thighs squeezed around your head and you were convinced you might be in heaven. Your hips pushed down into the sheets as you worked her through her orgasm. 

Your hand slipped down to try and provide yourself with some friction but it wasn’t enough. You needed her, needed her to touch you. 

As if answering your prayers, Posy pulled you up and kissed you deeply, licking her own taste out of your mouth. 

She flipped you over, pinning you against the mattress, her bare chest warm and soft against yours as her fingers dove inside of you, her palm pressing down against your clit.  

You were embarassingly close already, her soft touches bringing you right up to the edge. 

Her fingers slipped out of you and circled your clit, swallowing all of your moans as she guided you towards your peak. You pulled away from the never-ending kiss and buried your face in her neck as you came, rolling your hips as waves of pleasure radiated out from your core. 

After you came down you collapsed, your head resting on her chest. Her hand was caressing your cheek as she smiled down fondly at you.

“Was the kiss just like you wanted?” you asked. 

“It was with you so yes, it was.”

“You big sap,” you said with a laugh. 

A wave of exhaustion hit you and you were glad you were already in bed, using Posy as your own personal pillow as you got some much needed rest. 

You woke up to the sound of pounding at your door. 

The first instinct from your half-asleep brain was to ignore it and go back to sleep, snuggled into Posy’s side. 

The sound of a fist slamming against the wood continued ceaselessly and you could make out the muffled noises of the person outside shouting. The second you heard the word traps you sprung up, throwing clothes on and ushering Posy out of sight.

She picked up on your panic immediately, glancing anxiously at the door as you tucked her away. 

“What the fuck do you want?” you hissed as you threw the door open. 

Your attitude towards the hunters wasn’t pleasant on a good day but now, after you’d been taking care of Posy for weeks, you’d never felt angrier. 

“I want you to stop messing with my shit, that’s what I fucking want,” he shot back. “Do you think we didn’t know it was you? You’ve become a real pain in my ass.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Not my fault if you can’t trap prey to save your life, maybe get better at hunting and stop blaming me for your shitty haul.”

“We found blood coming from one of our traps, you know. After a few feet, the trail went cold. Like someone covered it up.”

“Well, I suppose that’s the price you pay when you’re hunting intelligent creatures, sometimes they outsmart you and your shit-for-brains friends.”

He lurched towards you and you instinctively drew back towards the shut door of your cabin. 

As you did, you saw a familiar face peek through the curtain and panic shot through you, endlessly worried they’d spot her. You talked a big game but if it came down to a straight up fight you didn’t like your odds. 

“Listen,” you said, knowing you needed to end this as quickly as you could. “You’re not the only one with a hunting riffle. I advise you to stay away from here or that camouflage you’re wearing may end up being a defense of mine. Now please get the fuck off of my property.”

You were bluffing, you didn’t have a hunting riffle. But at the end of the day, you didn’t need one. All you needed was for him to believe you.

His wide eyes and nervous glance back at your home told you that he did. 

“Bitch,” he spat at you as he began his retreat.

As he drew out of sight, you slipped inside, careful not to open the door anymore than you needed to. 

You locked the door and immediately whipped around and looked for Posy. 

She was sitting on the floor with her back to the wall, her legs curled inwards and tears streaming down her face. She was visibly shaking and clutching her leg and you got the sense she’d collapsed from her spot at the window.  

You grabbed a blanket from the bed and wrapped her up, pulling her into you. Her breaths were coming fast and you just held her, pressing gentle kisses into her forehead and rubbing the base of her ears while whispering soft reassurances to her. 

You slowly pulled her leg out from under the blanket and gently unwound the bandages from the leg she was clutching, trying to show her what you’d been putting off mentioning for days, what you couldn’t help but notice every time you changed her bandages.

“Hey, you’re okay, you’re all healed up. Look,” you said as you revealed her leg, covered in scars but functionally healed. “You’re fine. They can’t get you in here, you’re okay. You’re all healed up and I’ll never let them touch you again, you’re gonna be just fine.”

Her shaky breaths got slower as she started to calm down, her hand tenuously reaching down to touch her old wounds. 

She slowly calmed down, her hand grasping a handful of your shirt as if she was afraid you’d leave her. You had no plans on doing so, keeping her as close as you could. 

You did your best to cheer her up, to show her that things really were getting better. “Hey, on the bright side, your legs all healed up. You should be able to leave soon, go back home.”

“What?”

“You’re fine now, you should be able to walk. We can get you back home.” You focused on keeping a pleasant smile on your face, on not showing her how distraught you were of thinking about her leaving, about this place being empty, about not having Posy to come home to.

“Oh. Okay.”

She didn’t speak much after that. You left her alone for days, wanting to give her space to recover, ignoring that nagging feeling in your gut screaming at you to just say something. You refused to push. You would wait for her to speak first, to make the first move. 

She never did. 

Against your better judgment, you left her alone again, setting off to undo as many traps as you could once more. 

When you got back she was gone. 

Panic immediately bloomed in your chest, convinced that someone had gotten to her, that she’d been taken. 

The pile of clean bandages wadded up and thrown in your trash indicated otherwise. 

Maybe you shouldn’t chase after her. Maybe this was what she wanted, to go home to her family and forget all of this. Maybe this was her way of saying she didn’t want to see you again.

You barely even had time to process any of those thoughts before you took off running. 

She hadn’t been careful. Her trail was easy to follow, much easier than it should have been. 

You were out of breath when you came upon her. You knelt in front of her sobbing form, making sure she wasn’t hurt before you spoke. 

“Hey, what… what’s going on? Why did you run, what’s happening?”

She sniffled, trying to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “You dont want me.”

“What?”

“You were just waiting for me to heal and now you want me to leave. I thought you really wanted me.”

“I do! I want you to stay, I thought you would want to leave.”

“Why would I want to leave?”

“To go back to your family, back home. You’re not like me, you have people to go back to.”

“You’re my people. Wait, so you’ll let me stay.”

“Let you? Posy, I want you to stay, I’ve been dreading you leaving ever since you showed up. Besides, with you gone who else would I sav-”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence, it being cut short as the wind was knocked out of you when she tacked you, knocking you on your back as her arms wrapped around you. You could feel her massive smile as she pressed her face into the crook of your neck, kissing you every time she managed to suppress her smile for a moment.

She sat up suddenly, her thighs on either side of your waist, keeping you trapped where you lay.  Her ears were perked up as she grinned down at you

She started talking a mile a minute, the excitement taking over her. “I can take you to meet everyone one of these days, when hunting season is over. I’ll get to show you off. Oh, and I can forage for you. Then you’ll find out how gross all your food is. ”

You snorted. “Posy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I get up please?”

“Oh. Right, yeah of course.” She helped you to your feet, still eagerly making plans as she grabbed your hand, tugging you behind her as you both headed back home.

#terato #terato writing #jackalope hybrid #bunny hybrid #monster x reader #monster x human #monster girlfriend #monster gf #Disclaimer: do not actually use alcohol to clean a wound #you are not meant to do that despite what fiction has told you #This is a day late #terribly sorry for breaking my promise </3 #This was actually supposed to be the first fic I posted on this blog #It has taken one million years to write lol #As far as the more stilted talking Posy does #I did develop some very fundamental grammar rules for her native language #So that’s why her speech is kind of stilted at the start

[ladymelisande]

My problem with this implication that Crowley is the Selfish One™ for panicking and wanting to run instead of going with Aziraphale to Heaven and Aziraphale being a supposed saint that wants to save humanity (or fix Heaven just for love of Crowley, which is quite reductive and I will to that in a minute) is that it just acts as ir Aziraphale knew that the Second Coming was happening all along (which he didn't) and that once again just ignores that 1) he was pretty excited at the idea of coming back there, 2) that he did imply he misses reporting to Heaven AKA he is struggling to be part of The Company™ - Michael Sheen also mentioned this before the season started - and 3) Aziraphale was spiraling and in denial of the situations happening around him all season.

There are some points I disagree with so much and they are just... Not in the show?

'That Aziraphale didn't know that Heaven tried to kill him.' Yes, he did, he didn't know the whole dialogue word for word, but Crowley says in the first episode that Gabriel tried to cast him into hellfire.

'That Heaven has good angels and that's why Aziraphale was doing the right thing by going.' Okay, I hate this point with passion. Heaven having nice, innocent angels like Muriel doesn't make it less of a cult/totalitarian environment/dystopia/you pick your metaphor. Just because some angels are good doesn't mean the system is not broken. In any case, those angels deserve to get the fuck out too.

Crowley can't let go of his hate of Heaven and that's bad for some reason. This point is so... victim blamy. Why in the hell should Crowley feel anything but hate for Heaven or God by the matter? Huh?!

The point that argues that Aziraphale only wanted to go back to Heaven because of Crowley and to keep him safe deserves a paragraph of his own because I think it's such a 'reduce into shipping' reading. Aziraphale has been struggling with letting go of Heaven, he hasn't been eating, he is playing humans like fiddles during that ball and denying the danger around him, he accepted Gabriel in his home when anyone with some self-preservation would have thrown him out of in the street. All of this, plus his line in Season 1 when he still hesitated about 'his side' not liking him staying with Crowley, all of this is a build up that goes up to the moment where he presents Metatron's offer to Crowley.

Because as much as I ship them and I do think Crowley going was a mayor factor on making him accept, I don't think it's only about Crowley, it's about Aziraphale's inability to let go of his perception of Heaven as the side of goodness.

Crowley going back to Heaven is how Aziraphale thinks he can have his cake and eat it. Crowley is safe from Hell (because he thinks in terms of Hell being more harmful to Crowley than Heaven) and Aziraphale gets to 'fix' Heaven and never, ever confront the fact that Heaven is not the side of good, most importantly, never confront the fact that God is not a force of good.

Aziraphale's acceptance of the offer is not just doing Good and Save Earth™ (because remember he didn't know about the Second Coming when he accepted), it's him regressing (in the psychological term, not in the character term) and not wanting to accept real change, which sort of goes with his character being the sort of slow and frozen previous eras (contrasting with Crowley 'going too fast'). It's the same thing with him just believing Crowley is a good person because he is fundamentally an angel Deep Down™, and not because he developed his own moral compass.

Like, I'm sorry, but I don't think him accepting that offer had anything to do with some super mega selfless impulse to save Earth. He doesn't mention Earth in his whole speech. He goes around how Heaven is 'the side of truth, of light, of good' and he looks at Crowley confused as if he doesn't get why Crowley wouldn't want to go back to The Side of Truth, Light and Good™. I don't see Earth and humans mentioned there. It's not about them and deep down is not even about Crowley.

It's about Aziraphale and Heaven. It's about how he, as much as he loves Crowley, he still wants Heaven, he still wants their praise, he wants to be needed by them and how he can't and (in that moment) doesn't want to accept what they truly are.

This is why he will fail in Season 3. There won't be growth if he suddenly manages to change an unchangeable system. He needs to fail, he needs to have this view of them and God broken or he will never grow out of it.

#go ahead call me a hater now 🙄 #aziraphale #good omens meta #good omens #I swear this relationship therapy speech rubbish applying to fictional characters is just ruining storytelling #fandom always wants to twist situations in 'they are both wrong' #because weirdly they think that if only one of the characters are wrong then that character... Becomes an abuser I guess? #because that's totally how it works I guess! #one person can't be wrong in a relationship ever #it's has to be the two of them exactly in the same level or the relationship is Doomed™ #but even then is not about that is about character progression

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

#nazgul #nazgûl #the lord of the rings #tlotr #b&w #black and white #dark #Black Speech #j. r. r. tolkien #tolkien #Black Riders #Dark Riders #Nine Riders #fictional characters

[theorahsart]

Incorruptible pt 16

I'd like to think Robespierre was intensely excited and inspired during those early days in the Breton Club (I remember reading a letter that suggested as such)

#incorruptiblecomic #I feel bad for showing Necker in a bad light since he really helped in the build up to Frev with his bold moves/popularity #but also it sounds like he really didnt read the room with his opening speech at the Estates General lol #Also me chanelling personal anger at current political situations into an angry Breton lol #french revolution #robespierre art #robespierre #frev #webcomic #comic #webtoon #historical fiction #maximilien robespierre #frev art #frev comic

[cacodaemonia]

I've seen a lot of people panicking, getting really angry, and sharing blatant misinformation about this upcoming lore.fm app, so I wanted to share this update I found from the creator.

I'm not defending it because I haven't seen exactly how it works yet, but from what I can tell, it's similar to a desktop program such as Calibre, which is what I (and many other people) often use for text-to-speech to read fics.

Calibre downloads the fic (just like ANYONE can download fics from AO3, mind you) into the computer from a URL provided by the user, and reads it from that file with the wonky robotic voice. I don't know if the lore.fm app even downloads the pages users provide for it to read, or if it just accesses them on a case-by-case basis, but I suspect it's the latter because otherwise, they would need to pay for a LOT of cloud storage.

Maybe the app is totally shady, but it could also be an attempt to make an accessibility tool for mobile screen reading that doesn't suck. The project definitely seems clumsily-executed, and they should really be providing more information beyond their TOS, privacy policy, and tiktok videos, but that doesn't automatically make them nefarious. It's also unclear to me if they are simply 'marketing' this as a better way to listen to fics that haven't been podficced, or if it can be used on any website, but I think it's the latter? I don't have a tiktok account and I don't feel like sifting through a bunch of videos, so. 🤷

Anyway, before you send them angry emails or messages on social media or share rumors, please consider looking into this on your own rather than relying on wild speculation.

Oh, and here's a reddit post from someone who emailed @ao3org and got a reply from them regarding the legality.

EDIT: looks like the app is shutting down. I'm still not sure what their goal was, exactly. Such a weird situation.

#lore.fm #ao3 #fan fiction #fanfiction #screen readers #text-to-speech #accessibility tools #fandom #tiktok

[boreal-sea]

Hey, I have a question and I was wondering if you could help because it’s really been confusing me lately. If not, for any reason at all, you’d rather not I totally understand. You can just delete the ask.

With a lot of pro-ship arguments I see the phrase it’s “just fiction” and idea that fiction can’t harm anyone. However propaganda is still obviously dangerous and representation is important. I don’t know how exactly the rules are different for these things and I’d really appreciate any thoughts you had on the topic, if you have any. I might be missing some obvious part to this, my brain tends to do that

So it's not that the rules are different, it's that the entire context is different, including the intent, impact and scope.

I used to deal with this mental conflict as well, as a young person. I was raised republican, and one of their big tactics is oversimplifying things. So you learn "violence is bad", and then you see BLM protestors and the January 6th rioters, and the simplified world view says "if you think the BLM thugs are justified, then so were the January 6th patriots - they both rioted, they both fought for their rights against the establishment".

Now obviously, those two situations are absolutely not equivalent when you think about them for longer than a millisecond, but the simplified world view does not want you to think. In the simplified mindset, "destroying property" is always wrong, no matter the reason why. So if you are OK with it in one situation, you cannot disagree in another and vice versa. And that is the mindset Antis have when it comes to fanfic: if propaganda is bad and can negatively influence people, if giant blockbuster movies, famous novels, and popular TV shows can negatively influence stereotypes about people and cause other harm, then it is equally wrong to write about icky kinks on Ao3.

The thing is though, these are not at all equivalent situations. Propaganda is created with the explicit intent to influence people's opinions about a subject area. The scope and impact of famous authors and directors is way, way bigger than a fan author on Ao3 - and big-name folks like that do actually have to deal with the impact of their work. Spielberg regrets the negative impact Jaws had on sharks, for instance.

A fanfic you write for yourself and post on Ao3 for a niche audience of fans is going to get a couple thousand hits, at best. It's very unlikely to ever escape the awareness of people in your fandom. And especially if you have tagged it correctly, the only people who are going to read it in the first place are people who are already into that kink, or who are open to it. It is never going to influence culture at large. My kinky fanfic is not going to have the same cultural impact as Steven Spielberg's Jaws did in 1975. And no, my fanfic is not going to "normalize rape culture".

Any work of fiction can have unintended impacts. This is not a logical justification to not create art. "Problematic art" not only deserves to exist, it needs to exist. If you don't agree with that, then you might as well be on the side of the folks in red states across this nation who are banning books in schools, forcibly rewriting history to erase slavery from the USA's past, and thinking they can get rid of "problematic media" they claim is "grooming their children".

#fandom #fanfic #fiction #freedom of speech

[convolutedblasphemy]

It's always "You can't judge what people enjoy in fiction!" and never "Maybe being critical of what societal stereotypes and narratives we feed into with the content we make is a good thing, actually". Sometimes it's not about whether you're a bad person or not, sometimes it's about the giant pile of garbage propaganda you add onto. 🤷🏻‍♀️

#imagine if jk rowling looked at the criticism about the antisemitic and racist narratives in her books and said don't like don't read #i'm not saying you HAVE TO pay attention to represent minorities and sensitive topics with respect #you dont bc freedom of speech #but like don't be surprised that people think reaffirming bigoted stereotypes or rape culture narratives sucks #no one should come into your inbox and tell you to die or something #but some randos making posts like 'i think it kinda sucks when people do this' doesn't make you a victim of harassment or censorship #fandom #fandom discourse #writing #fiction #shipping #discourse

[anxiously-sidequesting]

**slips and slides into the room with socks on and breaks the wooden table as i fall down on the floor in a haste** so anyways i actually just scared myself because i thought of exactly how deep Malorn's and Malistaire's parallels went. like in post-updated tutorial malistaire was said to have been kind and caring towards his students right. just like malorn right. just like malorn, right? isn't that just like malorn? hey everyone doesn't that sound just like malorn? kind and cares for his students? 'kind' and 'caring' are certainly two adjectives that describe malorn arent they huh? (is slowly sinking in quicksand as i desperately reach out to you as i say this) so if we are to say that malorn and malistaire are two sides of the same coin then what is truly stopping malorn from having one traumatic event from shaping the rest of his life into a descent of madness, grief, and isolation? Guys tell me what the difference is between this reality and an Evil Malorn AU guys? guys hello? hello guys? **(the quicksand has actually transported me to the Backrooms now, no one can hear me call out in distress)**

#not to say that malorn is the exact same as malistaire and would have the ecact same visceral reactions malistaire once did btw #like this isnt me expecting him to become The Joker one day but like can yoy guya think about. can you guys think about- #just how easy it is. for a well adjusted sane person to become the opposite of that. didnt the vampire guy from bdg3 say smth like this #im literally trying to find a serious way to say joker's incredibly memeable “one bad day” speech IEJSHSSJ #what's malorn's switch. what's his very last thread that he's hanging on #what THE FUCK MAKES MALORN SNAP?????? (grabbing at your shirt in a panic) #thinking about malorn of all people suffering malistaire's same fate much less trauma in general hurts my heart dearly. he is fictional #i should not be upset over fictionals. (<- she said insincerely. very much being upset over fictional characters) #malorn has certainly CHANGED from his experiences (in my fantasy la la land) but at most he's resentful and angry. jaded. but not in crisis #evil malorn au....... #wizard101 #wiz101 #w101 #text posts #malorn ashthorn #malistaire drake

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

what spop critics say: spop is a show with a lot of potential that, with good writing and decent pacing, could have been a masterpiece. however, the writers fucked up by not giving the villain a good redemption and ultimately turning her arc into "predatory lesbian"

what spop fans hear: catra is EVIL and spop is TRASH and abuse victims DON'T DESERVE A SECOND CHANCE they should all BE TORTURED TO DEATH i'm a heartless monster who has no life and kills puppies for fun

#spop critical #spop #spop salt #spop discourse #spop criticism #anti catradora #she ra #anti catra #please learn how to read #i post a detailed analysis on how catra is an interesting character whose arc was butchered in the end #and c//a stans in the replies are like “your blog is full of HATE go kys HOW DARE you hate on a fictional character” #like calm down #tw death threat mention #tw hate speech mention

[godsfavoritescientist]

Biting the bars of my enclosure about autistic ford tonight. There's something about him using vocabulary and turns of phrase that seem "outdated" or "pretentious" that feels so painfully genuine to me. When people say he talks like that just to "try to sound smart" I wish I could explain what it's like to be so ostracized from your peers growing up that you spend all your time reading instead, to the point where you pick up your way of speaking from books instead of from people. And then what it's like for people to call you out for "talking weird" over and over again, not able to wrap their heads around why the fuck you would choose more archaic or technical or formal words than the simpler ones that surely come to everyone's minds first. What it's like to have to dedicate a sizable chunk of attention to filtering through every single word you say out loud in real time before you say it, to make absolutely sure that it isn't a word people will judge you for using or make fun of you for using, just so you'll have a chance of being taken seriously. Learning through trial and error how to filter out the words that other people don't think are normal or casual enough for the conversation, even though for you, the word choice that's "natural-sounding" enough for them is the third or fourth word you came up with when searching for the right way to phrase something in your head. I wish I could explain just how long it takes to say fucking anything after spending a lifetime doing that during every single conversation, and how repetitive and long-winded you end up being when you spend so long coming up with alternative ways of saying every little thing you ever think. And I wish people realized that, at the very least for autistic people and autistic-coded characters, speech that's seen as pretentious is really just the way they talk when they're not putting in the extra effort to filter through every word they say just so others will take the time to listen.

#ford meta #actuallyautistic #everyone go read the wikipedia page for 'stilted speech' right now #long post #ford isnt very good at masking. he doesn't have the kind of (unintentional) autistic coding that is Palatable To Neurotypicals. #definitely looking-too-deeply-at-a-kid-cartoon right now but in *some* ways. a world where the majority of people think its easy to like an #-understand ford is a world that would feel safe for me to unmask in. #i truly truly hate that fully explaining my thoughts on ford requires me to say so much about myself. but god is it such a crime- #-to use a fictional character as a lens through which to try and explain to people how to be more understanding and accepting- #-of things like this. #making fun of stilted speech is so normalized that people don't even realize they're making fun of someone for being weird. #people think its Someone Thinking They're Better Than You but its something people lay awake at night wishing they could stop doing. #and yet they still end up using the Wrong Words and being labeled a Pretentious Asshole just for talking differently than the norm. #maybe there really are people out there who deliberately use big words to try and sound smarter than everyone else. I don't know. #all I know is. in a world where its pretty obvious that people who use a discongruently complex vocabulary get made fun of for doing that. #why would someone deliberately trying to impress people do something that would only get them laughed at. #sorry for being genuine on main. as if its my fault </3

[sidsinning]

I have watched and read all of Skip and Loafer

mAN I WANT THAT NEXT CHAPTER

SHIMAAAAA SORT YOUR SHIT OUT MA BOYYYYYY

#skip and loafer #i really love this series!!! every character has been gr8 #some shit made me teary eyed #stuff with nao #mitsumi's lil friend speech to shima right after they broke up??? literally the sweetest break up i ever seen in fiction #protecc mitsumi tho 10000% #was not cool for him to impulsively ask her out like that without knowing what it meant #you realize ur feelings bc u guys have broken up thts rough buddy #sidrabbles