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#because he is who he is and he cannot change that and he will never change that!!!!!!!
satoruoo · 2 days
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satoru was never really one for silence. because in the stillness and emptiness of silence, his thoughts would often get the better of him. they would swallow him whole - he who is known as the strongest - and feed on even the tiniest of dark concepts, sapping their energy and becoming larger. more powerful.
his thoughts were oh so delicate, yet annoyingly resilient in their task to weigh down his heart; their forms were ever-changing and impossible for him to pin down. they thrived on the rich soil of imagination, strengthened further by the waters of curiosity and sunlight of doubt. born from uncertainty and emboldened by satoru's accidental willingness to contemplate, they evolve into monsters that even he, embarrassingly, cannot contain.
but when you lie with him in the comfort of your shared bed, your fingernails scraping his undercut with an overwhelming amount of affection while enshrouded by silence, his thoughts dare not come close. fearful of your presence, they leave him be.
it confuses him - you aren't even paying full attention to him. you're preoccupied; eyes working to untangle the words in your book. even so, you're easing his worries in a way he doesn't think even you realize.
his face is pressed to the skin of your stomach as you lay on your front. he's disgustingly comfortable between your legs; his breathing steady while he teeters on the edge of falling deep into the pit of dreams. never has he felt so at peace, so safe in someone else's arms. he's become a little reliant on you, perhaps.
your hand only leaves its station atop his white locks to turn another page; dutifully returning to soothe his turmoil.
satoru's head feels pleasantly calm - previous turbulent waters subdued to dead still.
there's still no sound in the room, only the occasional flick of pages of your book. there's no sound and yet, his thoughts cower in the deep crevices of his mind; afraid to show their ugly faces in the presence of a creature so beautiful.
it is then satoru realizes that silence is not so bad. not as long as he has you.
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sescoups · 2 days
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favorite coworker - choi vernon
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masterlist
word count: ~5.3k (i'm so sorry)
summary: vernon is your favorite. he just gets you. of course you can't resist him - not that you would ever want to.
a/n: this is definitely NOT proofread, and i'm sorry. idk i just have the fattest crush on vernon, honestly i can't be held accountable
18+, MDNI!!! warnings under the cut <3
warnings: oral (m. receiving), making out, creepy old man (he doesn't do anything, he's just a creep), mention of vomit, lmk if i missed anything! <3
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“Wait so hang on, you mean to tell me you’ve never what..? Gone down on a guy?”
“Oh yell it out, why don’t you,” you groan, smacking your forehead into the counter. Thank fuck you just cleaned it.
Vernon is your coworker at the record store in the middle of the city. He’s super chill, does what he’s supposed to but doesn’t stress out or get pissy if you’re having a bad day and work slowly. He’s great. He’s just… a bit unaware of his surroundings, a lot of the time. You’re lucky only two people are in the store at the moment, or you would have simply passed away.
“Sorry, sorry,” he says, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I just kinda can’t believe it? I mean, you’ve had sex for sure, right?”
“Yes, Vernon.” You roll your eyes and glare at an old man who is shamelessly looking you up and down. “I’ve had sex before. Just not a lot, I guess. And why is it so hard to believe?”
Had he been looking at your face, your raised eyebrow might have tipped him off to the fact that he should drop the topic and back off. Unfortunately, in typical Vernon fashion, he was doodling nonsense on a notepad, so he missed it completely.
“Well I mean, you’re hot,” he said before finally looking up at you. He started tapping his pen against the counter, leaning his weight on one hand against the counter. “You’re also pretty open about your life in general, so I just figured two plus two equals one, you know.”
“What the fu- Vernon. Think about what you just said.”
“Oh fuck. Yeah I deserved to fail math in high school.”
You burst into laughter at his words. This is exactly why you love Vernon, and why he’s your favorite coworker. You’re laughing so hard you barely manage to greet the new customer who just entered the store. Your coworker is smiling, satisfied with his ability to make you laugh.
The old man who is still eyeing you, now with extra focus on your boobs, comes up to the register just as you manage to sober up from your laughing fit. You clear your throat and turn to face him, giving him a tiny smile in the spirit of customer service. Apparently a mistake.
“Excuse me, sweetheart,” he starts, running his tongue over his front teeth in what you suspect is supposed to be a seduction attempt. “Would you mind maybe showing me some of the records you have in the back?”
The smile leaves your face immediately, and you’re about to absolutely emaciate him when Vernon cuts in to make sure you do not lose your job over some smarmy geezer.
“She cannot, sir. It’s store policy. Soz.”
You hold your snort in, but barely. The old man huffs and glares at the man next to you, crossing his arms over his chest. Honestly, you’re curious at this point. You’ve never seen Vernon handle confrontation - again, very chill dude - but you also know he is very protective over his friends.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” the old man says with an eye roll. “I was talking to the pretty young lady.”
His smile sends a shiver down your spine, and you take a deep breath. The old man watches your boobs rise and fall. Seriously, fuck this guy. You force the customer service smile back on your face because you actually really like and need this job, and decide this sack of shit isn’t worth it.
“He’s right, sir. It’s against store policy, and I’m currently on register duty. If there is a specific record you wish to see, we can look it up in the system.”
“I’ll keep looking for a while… in case you change your mind.”
The way he winks at you makes your blood boil, and it’s a wonder your teeth don’t crack from the pressure of your jaw. The man walks away, and so does Vernon. He can’t really kick the guy out unless he does something physical, so you don’t know what he’s trying to do. Soon, though, your confusion melts into amusement and glee as you watch your coworker follow the man around the store, loudly dissing his music taste whenever he picks up a record. He keeps walking just a little bit too close for comfort, and after about three minutes, the man gives up.
You take huge pleasure in the way the man skulks out, hands in his pockets and back hunched over as if he’s trying to get away from something - or someone. Returning to the register, Vernon grins to himself and resumes his doodling without a word. You shake your head in amazement before going to help the other two customers in the store.
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The next time you’re working with Vernon, you have the closing shift. Usually only one person is supposed to stay back after closing and clean up, but you just received a large shipment of vinyls that need to be sorted and placed into protective sleeves, so the two of you are working overtime together.
It’s a pretty slow shift, and the two of you pass the time by playing music for one another and guessing the artist and the title. You’re much better at it than he is, but only because you’re good at memorizing things; he has a far more varied music taste than you, and would easily have won had he remembered more than two song names and five artists. As per the terms of the game, the loser has to go out to get the dinner you preordered from a restaurant down the street. It’s not far, but it’s raining, so you’re glad to be exempt.
While your colleague is gone, you close out the register and sweep the floor so you only have the vinyl sorting left after you’ve eaten. The break room smells like wet dog and Doritos, so you bring two chairs out together with the foldable table that you’re going to use to sort the vinyls. Since no one is in the store anyway, you can people watch through the windows while you eat.
Vernon comes back in just as you finish setting up, soaking wet from the pouring rain. You coo at him when he shivers, and he shoots you a playful glare. He ends up holding his glare for all of two seconds before a wide smile stretches across his face.
“I left an extra shirt here at some point, do you think it smells like teenage boy?”
You escape the break room with two plates and some utensils in hand, laughing at his question and probably unfortunate fate.
“Because of the proximity to the break room? Probably. That shit is unavoidable.”
He grimaces before taking his jacket off, hanging it on a hook behind the register. He disappears to change while you plate the food, humming to yourself. You try not to think about how he’s probably half naked right now, and turn your attention to the fact that he most likely will smell atrocious to keep your head on straight.
You do love Vernon. He’s a great coworker, obviously, and he’s a great friend too, but that’s not really the full extent of it. You’ve been battling your crush on him for months now, because it’s pretty clear that he isn’t interested in you. Besides, if you ever did date, things would get awkward at work if you broke up. No, he is one of those people who should stay firmly at arm’s length. Unfortunately.
Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud bang, making you jump a good foot in the air.
“What the fuck, Nonnie?”
“Sorry,” he grimaces, checking that the door he managed to fling directly into the wall hadn’t done any damage. “I tripped.”
“Only you, Vern,” you sigh. “Well, food is ready to go. Let’s eat!”
The meal, consisting of some kimchi jjigae, rice and side salad, passes by in relative silence. You occasionally hum in content, and Vernon often slurps his jjigae really loudly which prompts you to giggle. He always looks glad to have amused you, and you need to look away often in order to control your emotions.
“Dude,” he groans after his third serving, “I’m so fucking full.”
“I’m not the one who got an order for five people, genius,” you groan back, your own stomach feeling like a water balloon. “So good though.”
“So good,” he nods earnestly.
You can’t stand to look at him like this; you need something to do with your hands. So you stand up and stretch, which actually does help the food settle in your stomach a bit. Your hair, tied in a bun to avoid getting any food in it, comes down to release some of the pressure on your scalp, and then you feel ready to get started.
“Take all the time you need, man, but I’m gonna start on the first box. I want to get home before dawn, if I can.”
He flashes you a thumbs up and slumps against the table to enter into a food coma. You scoff at him and shake your head before clearing the dishes from the table. Thank God you have a dishwasher in the break room.
You bring out the first box and start sorting it, referencing the list you have as you go to take inventory. It’s repetitive work, but it’s kind of soothing, too. You do your best to make the plastic of the vinyl coverings crinkle as little as possible, wanting Vernon to rest for as long as he needs to. Three servings of kimchi jjigae would make anyone drowsy.
The first sign that he is still alive comes ten minutes later when he starts drumming a random rhythm on the table. You snort when you recognize the rhythm, pausing with a vinyl halfway into its covering.
“You can’t drum the melody to Dun Dun Dance, Vernon.”
“I can do whatever I want,” he protests weakly, cheek still pressed firmly against the table surface. “But nicely done. What about this one?” He drums out another rhythm, and now that you know it’s a melody he’s following, you recognize it quicker.
“That’s Candy by H.O.T.”
“Nice.”
“You gonna work or rest, bud?”
Vernon whines at your words and rolls his head to rest his forehead against the table instead. You wait patiently as he gathers the strength to sit up properly and kick a box of vinyls over to him when he seems more alive.
“Life isn’t fair,” he pouts, “I just did so much work eating all that food, and now I gotta do more?”
“It’s like that,” you agree absentmindedly, marking off a stack of vinyls on your list. “Can you turn on some music, please? The silence is creepy.”
He nods and connects his phone to the store speakers, choosing the playlist the two of you created together on a similar night of overtime. After that, the two of you slip into a rhythm together, unpacking vinyls, checking the list, and then putting them into a protective sleeve. It’s mostly silent aside from the music, and sometimes Vernon drums along to the beat on the table, but it’s comfortable. You kind of don’t mind spending a few hours like this.
When you’re two thirds through the stack of boxes, you both decide to take a break. Your saint of a colleague brews some coffee, and you hop onto the checkout counter to browse through your phone while your brain cells take a well-deserved rest.
“Bless you,” you say as you accept a mug full of coffee. “We’re making pretty good time today, eh?”
“Yeah,” he agrees, taking a sip and wincing at the scalding temperature. “We haven’t really been talking, so.”
“That jjigae really took you out, huh?”
“Oh yeah.”
You grin at him and blow gently over your coffee. It’s still too hot to drink, as evidenced by the steam rising from it, but the smell alone is kind of waking you up. Vernon grabs your attention by clearing his throat gently, and you turn to look at him. He’s fidgeting a bit with a pen left on the counter close to your thigh.
“I, uh… I wanted to say I’m sorry about that dude the other day. The creepy one. I probably should have kicked him out, but I didn’t know if I could…”
Your heart melted a little in your chest. It was obvious he had been carrying this around with him, mulling it over and worrying about it. About you. It was endearing, and dangerous for your heart. You bit your lip and placed your coffee mug on the counter next to you.
“It’s okay,” you say earnestly. “He sucked, and I was uncomfortable, but you still made him leave. I didn’t feel like I was in danger or anything, so don’t worry about it.”
“I just feel like it’s partially my fault, for kind of yelling about the fact that you’ve never sucked a dick before.” You’re incredibly grateful that you weren’t drinking coffee at that moment, because you definitely would have spat it out all over the floor. His bluntness never ceased to surprise you. It was unbearably adorable. “I should be more aware of my surroundings, especially when talking about something sensitive like that.”
“Well,” you start, pausing thoughtfully. “I don’t really think that man would have acted differently either way, to be honest with you. Men like that are just… like that. I also don’t really care who knows I’ve never given a blowjob before. It doesn’t matter, at the end of the day. I haven’t done it because I haven’t slept with anyone who’s dick I wanted to suck, and that’s all. I just wish I knew how sometimes, you know?”
He shuffles his weight around at your words, shifting from foot to foot. He’s still fumbling with the pen on the counter, but now his fingers are clumsier than usual. You glance up at his face only to find him staring into empty space in front of him. You figure you made him uncomfortable with your oversharing.
“Sorry. That was TMI.”
“No,” he answers quickly. “We share everything. I told you when I threw up on Seungkwan’s lap and cried because I felt bad, didn’t I?” You smile at the reminder and nod. He finally meets your eyes again. “I was just thinking, you know.”
“What about?”
Vernon’s mind is the most fascinating thing to you. The way he thinks is so out of the box and different, and so beautiful. He has shown you the lyrics he writes for his friend Jihoon sometimes, and they’re so poetic you find yourself turning them over in your mind for days afterward. And the best part about it is that he always answers you when you ask what’s going on inside his head. He grants you access to his thoughts and feelings, and it’s the greatest gift you’ve ever received.
“Well. I don’t know if this is going to come off as creepy or not,” he warns, “but I was thinking like… Maybe you should just get it over with.”
“Get what over with?” Your eyebrow rises as you ask the question, and his furrow in response.
“I just mean that you could know how to give a good blowjob, if you wanted to. You could just… pick someone to sleep with. And ask them to teach you. You know?”
“Nonnie,” you start, and your bewildered tone makes him shrink a little. “You really believe the best of people, don’t you?”
“Well- I mean yes, but I didn't mean you should just sleep with anyone. You could just pick someone you already know.”
His words give you pause. You have plenty of friends in possession of a penis, but the thought of sleeping with most of them feels kinda gross. The one exception is… Well, Vernon. And you sincerely doubt that he is offering himself up. So you do what you always do and make a joke to force your mind away from the thought of sucking on your friend’s dick until he cums for you.
“What, are you offering?”
“I mean, yeah,” he shrugs.
You stop breathing. He is actually, genuinely offering to teach you how to suck dick. More specifically, his dick. The one that has been the star of many of your more illicit fantasies. You want to say yes so badly, want to finally get the experience of being something more to him, but you also don’t want to get ahead of yourself. But…
The room is silent while you’re thinking. You feel his eyes on the side of your face, feel the way he’s cataloging every emotion that overtakes your features, and you swallow harshly. Your heart is beating out of your chest and your hands are shaking, and your brain is running a mile a minute with no end in sight.
Then Vernon places his hand on your thigh. His touch is warm but light, ready to pull away as soon as you want him to, but it’s enough to bring your soul back into your body and get a grasp on your thoughts and feelings. You bite your lower lip and breathe in deeply before letting it go. Yeah, you’re doing this.
“I uh, I’m going to need some guidance,” you say, and you almost miss the way your friend’s eyes widen at your words.
“O-Of course. And if you want to stop at any time, just like, tell me, yeah?”
You smile at the comfort his words bring you. “Yeah.”
There is silence once again, but this one is heavy with a different kind of tension. You both know what’s happening, but you don’t know what your next move should be. Technically, you should be working and saving any… other activities for your own free time, but you don’t think waiting is something you’re capable of at this point.
He is the one to make the first move, placing his half-empty mug on the counter and placing himself between your legs. His hands find a place on your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt slightly. Sitting on the counter means you’re a little bit taller than he is, but you really don’t mind it. He holds your gaze for a few seconds before his left hand lifts to cup your face.
“Are you okay with kissing?” His voice is a bit deeper than normal, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make heat pool between your legs. “I understand if not, but-”
You interrupt him with a gentle kiss. His lips are pillowy against yours, smooth and plump. You thank your past self for bullying him into using chapstick, because you can honestly say that this might be your favorite kiss ever.
Vernon’s hand moves from your jaw to rake through your hair, and you moan a little when his fingers catch a little in the back. He responds by stepping even closer to you and sliding his entire arm around your back, your chest pressing against his deliciously. The only thought going through your mind is the fact that you are kissing your favorite coworker, and how you really, really want to bury his cock in your throat.
He chases after you when you pull away slightly to catch your breath, and you don’t even mind that the oxygen deprivation is making you dizzy. You slump against him a little when he tugs on your hair again, and you move to return the favor. As soon as you pull on the hair at the back of his neck, he forces himself to pull away and gulp down some air.
His eyes are glazed over, his lips slick with a mix of your and his saliva, and his chest is rising and falling where it’s pressed against yours. It's painfully attractive. He rasps out a quiet groan and leans his forehead against yours. You love the feeling of his harsh breaths hitting your face and answer back with your own.
You feel like you’re in a bubble, because the world around you feels muted and time feels like it has stopped moving. You wouldn’t be surprised if the earth had stopped spinning.
“Sorry,” he breathes. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and inhales your scent. “I just really wanted to do that.”
“Stop apologizing,” you respond, bringing your hand onto his head to scratch at his scalp. “I liked it. Maybe a bit too much.”
Your words bring a whine out of Vernon, and he squeezes you tighter. You’re still on top of the counter, but you can feel his bulge against the inside of your thigh. It twitches against you every time you tug at the ends of his hair, and it makes you smile.
One of your hands snakes down and cups him through his jeans. He reacts strongly despite the thick material separating you. His willingness to show you how good you make him feel make you fall for him all over again. As if he wasn’t already perfect enough.
“Y/N,” he gulps when you move your hand against him, “we’re taking this at your pace, and I can go as slowly as you want to, but I think I might go insane if I don’t get these pants off.”
You giggle breathlessly as you pull away from him, and he forces himself to take a step back from you. You lean back on your hands, your knees still spread from where he was standing previously. He’s distracted for a few seconds before he finally remembers to unbutton his jeans and tugs them down his legs.
The bulge had been apparent through the jeans, but you can truly tell how hard he is when they come off. The way he twitches in his boxers is so obvious you almost feel bad for him. You decide it’s time you follow through and receive your lesson.
You hop off the counter and slide onto your knees in front of him. It’s unfair how attractive he is even from this angle, you think, and slide your hands up his thighs. You’ve given handjobs before, so it’s not exactly your first time touching a dick, but the goal is different now. This time, your hands are just the warmup and not the main event. You’re just hoping you can bring him some sort of pleasure in spite of your inexperience.
“Tell me how to start,” you whisper up at him. He blinks a few times at the sight of you before sucking in a deep breath.
“Yeah,” he rasps. His throat is already dry with anticipation. “I uh, I mean everyone is different when it comes to this stuff, so uh-”
“Just teach me what you like, Nonnie.” Your hands are massaging his thighs, nails digging into his skin every now and then. Whenever they do, you can feel him shudder.
“O-Oh, okay,” he breathes, sounding broken already. “I prefer skipping the handjob first, I guess. I really l-like the feeling of licking, especially at the tip, and uh-” He is becoming redder by the second. “One step at a time. Uhm, start by removing my boxers.”
You nod obediently and slide your hands up to his lower tummy, watching the expressions of pleasure as they take over his face. You assume you will never get to do this again, so you do your best to burn it all into your mind for later use on lonely nights spent with your vibrator. He shudders again when your nails scratch his skin lightly. Your fingers curl around the hem of his underwear and tug.
His cock is beautiful. It’s pretty long, curving slightly towards his stomach, and the tip of it is a perfect shade of peach. Your mouth waters at the thought of getting to taste it, and you eye the drop of precum spilling from the tip. You gently shuffle closer, but he stops you.
“Sorry, you’re fine, I just need something to lean against,” he explains when you look at him in fear of having done something wrong. He maneuvers you both so that he’s leaning against the counter you were sitting on not five minutes ago, and you’re in front of him.
“What now, Nonnie?” you ask, his eyes shutting and chest expanding to accommodate a deep breath.
“You should probably just uh, stroke me a few times first. Then uhm, then you can do whatever you want.” You blink at him a few times, trying to indicate that he’s supposed to be teaching you how to do this. For once, he gets the hint. “Like I said, I uh, like licking. When you take me in you just have to make sure not to like, bite me. Other than that, you can take it at your own speed and depth - for your comfort, of course, but I’m also not picky.”
You admire the flush decorating his cheeks and neck. He looks so good like this, towering over you and looking at you like you hold the answer to his ultimate pleasure. You try to convince yourself that you do, that you will be able to listen and follow his guidance well enough that this will feel good for him. You decide that you will.
Raising your right hand, you grip him tightly in your fist. It makes him suck in a breath, and you feel the muscles in his thighs tense up. You pump him a few times, going slow and using his precum as lube. It’s not enough, of course, but you will move on soon.
“Fuck…” he heaves, leaning back onto the counter even more. He looks into your eyes and swears again. “Please, sweetheart, as soon as you’re ready, I-I want-”
You cut him off by pressing your tongue against the head of his dick. The flavor is salty and a little bit bitter, but it tastes like heaven. Your eyes briefly slip closed as you continue kitten-licking at his slit, and he lets out a winy moan. You open your eyes and look at him, only to find him with his head tilted back to look at the ceiling.
“How is this?” you pause to ask, continuing before he’s had time to answer.
“Good, baby,” Vernon answers through his labored breathing. “So, so good. Keep going, you’re doing great.”
The praise bolsters your confidence, and you give a long lick from his base to his tip. The motion makes him moan again, so you repeat it a few more times. In no time at all, his cock is covered in a mixture of your saliva and his own precum. You decide it’s time to try and take him in your mouth - both because you’ve teased him enough, but you’re also too impatient to wait anymore.
His tip breaches the heat of your mouth , and you find you have to open your jaw quite a bit to accommodate him. A punched out groan leaves him, and one of his hands comes down to tangle in your hair. When a strand of it falls in front of your face, he gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail at the back of your head.
You love the weight of him on your tongue, and dare to sink down a bit lower. He hits the top of your mouth. You gag around him, and he gently pulls you off of him to check on you.
“You okay? You don’t have to keep going,” he reminds you. It only serves to make you more determined to make him cum down the back of your throat.
“What can I do better?” you ask while stroking him in your hand. You still want to improve.
“Honestly?” he wheezes, his hips jumping of their own accord. “You’re doing great.” You glare a bit at him, and he smiles down at you apologetically. “Sorry. But you are doing great. Maybe try sucking a bit more? Not just placing me in your mouth.”
You nod and sink right back down on him. His noises of pleasure are never-ending, and they only increase in volume as well as frequency once you properly suck around him. You bob up and down on him, his hand clenching in your hair as he’s doing his best not to fuck your throat. You’re making it pretty hard.
“Please, baby, I’m gonna fucking- Where do you want me to cum?”
His voice is hoarse and strained, and his grip on your hair has grown so tight it’s stinging your scalp. You savor the pain and rub your thighs together, mewling around him. You grip his ass and push deeper to signal for him to cum in your mouth, and it’s not a second too soon because he immediately spills his seed into you.
Vernon cums so much that some spills out onto your chin, but you diligently swallow what you can. He tries to keep his eyes on you, but his vision quite literally whites out as he reaches his high, so his eyes screw shut without his permission. You, on the other hand, couldn’t tear your gaze from him if you tried. He’s beautiful when he cums, his eyebrows scrunched in what almost looks like pain and his jaw slack in awe. His thighs tremble, and you’re glad he’s leaning against the counter so he doesn’t collapse onto the floor.
“Fuck, how are you so good at this,” he heaves out when his vision returns. You just smirk up at him, some of his cum still covering your chin and lips.
“I had a good teacher,” you tease back. Your voice is raspy after bobbing on his cock, and he finds it painfully attractive.
He notices the way you clench your thighs together and realizes you’re still on the floor. He’s quick to bend down and help you to your feet. As soon as you’re in front of him, he’s kissing you. He doesn’t care about the cum transferring from your chin to his, nor the fact that his softening dick is still out in the open; all he can think about is that he wants to pay you back for what you just did for him.
“Nonnie,” you breathe between kisses, and instead of pulling away it makes him kiss you harder, faster, deeper. He loves when you call him that. He reluctantly pulls away when you push gently against his chest, though. “We should finish the-”
“I need to eat you out, baby. Please, please let me.” His interruption surprises you, and so does his suggestion. He must see your confusion, because he quickly clears things up for you. “I want to, because I like you so much. I promise to ask you to be my girlfriend after this, but please, let me eat you out first.”
“Okay, but Nonnie-” you say, but he interrupts you with a passionate kiss as he mumbles thanks against your lips. “Nonnie.” He sighs and pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. He closes his eyes to stop himself from jumping you again, and you smile. “I’ll say yes right now. I want to be your girlfriend. Is that okay?”
He kisses you so deeply you lose track of where he starts and you end, but you’re just so glad to be kissing him again you probably couldn’t have figured it out anyway. You don’t talk much more that evening, and you definitely don’t get home before midnight, but at least you go home and fall into bed together. Maybe his inattentiveness was a blessing, after all.
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a/n: don't forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed this post! <3
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Danny accidentally becomes the Ghost king, The president and the BIGGEST threat to Bruce's social status.
Pt 1 Danny becomes the Ghost king
"Fenton's were never allowed to have a "normal" life, we are either extremely successful or extremely unsuccessful, there is no in between. Maybe a spirit cursed us back in the days, but who knows, but one things for sure, all Fenton's will definitely make the news."
-Grandma Fenton from whatever generation
Danny's starting to believe that now. He used to think that it wasn't true, but now? He used to wish to have a normal life, be a good normal son with good grades an be an astronaut one day.
But like they said, a Fenton is either EXTREMELY SUCCESSFUL OR EXTREMELY UNSUCCESSFUL.
He was EXTREMELY UNSUCCESSFUL in that.
Instead of a normal life he turned a half ghost teen superhero. But oh well, the Fenton's were also known for their ability to go with the flow
But how in the world did the flow get him here???
In Danny's defense, he wasn't really expecting this. The only thing in his mind at the moment was keeping his town and his people safe from pariah. He just wanted to get rid of the rotten fruitloop. He was EXTREMELY SUCCESSFUL, so successful in fact that he ended up becoming Ghost king.
The fudge????
But okay, sure, he didn't wanna become king but if he also didn't want to give up the crown for others to take, what if an evil person becomes king and attacks amity again?? Fine, he'll be king, he'll figure it out. Just go with the flow.
Surprisingly, not only did he get the crown, he also got THE MONEY. as in literal gold and silver bars, coins and jewelry. Appearantly, one the kings a long long time ago, before at least two generations before pariah had an obsession with MONEY. So the king made a Permanent Royal Degree (a law that cannot be changed by any future kings) that when someone dies and becomes a ghost, 20% of the MONEY that they've acquired in their entire life. (The money turns into an equivalent of ghost currency in the realms but is still physically in the living. Kind of like how the soul is in the realms but the body is the earth. Also, the only reason money exists in the realms is for convenience and a sense of normalcy, it doesn't really have that much value unless the ghosts brings it to the living) would belong to the ghost king.
Basically, it's ghost taxes that only have to be paid once for the entire afterlife. (Or is it more of an entrance fee???)
But anyways, hes got the MONEY.
He's rich now and he thinks, "I have so much money it's disgusting"
So first things first, getting rid of some of it.
By this point, his parents know he's phantom and have changed their opinions on ghosts, instead of attacking they are now looking at ghost like they're equals and try and help them as an apology for hurting them.
They are also looking for a new project to spend time on. A new purpose
So Danny thought, why not give them the money then? Danny proposed to his mom a project to make things that can benefit both ghosts and humans.
Next thing he knows is that he's appearantly funding, building and making:
A ghost job agency
A human job agency
Ghost proof buildings (ghost can't pass through walls, it won't hurt them, just keep em out.)
Ghost proof clothes (overshadowing proof!)
A practical fashion line for ghost and humans (Bullet proof, blast proof etch. Borderline vigilante clothes that look like a civilians day to day outfit)
Homes for ghost and humans
A ghost obsession help center where they can ask humans to help with their obsession.
A school for both ghost and humans.
Liminal 101 because apparently because of the whole, pariah dark and, living in the ghosts kings haunt situation, everyone is liminal now
An entire line of technology that can be used by both ghosts and humans.
A fight arena where ghost and humans can fight for fun.
And so many other things , he can't remember
HIS NAME IS EVERYWHERE . His parents didn't even bother hiding the fact that their son somehow has enough money to fund these projects, everyone knows him now.
He ends up basically owning most of amity park.
And here he thought he wouldn't be the kind of king that expands their territory.
He was extremely UNSUCCESSFUL in that.
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starless-nightz · 1 day
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i sent this request to someone else about a year and a half ago and i went back to look at it but they never made it into a fic so i thought it’d ask you instead while also making some small changes to my old request
Eloise bridgerton x fem!royalty!reader where two women can get married as long as one of them is rich enough to support the both of them
reader has to soon take over the throne because she is an only child but she has to first get married so she goes to London to find a wife or a husband and Eloise accidentally makes reader laugh (like that one scene w queen charlotte) which makes Eloise catch readers eye and she tries to court Eloise but Eloise being herself decides to be stubborn and act as if she has no feelings for the reader
readers mother strictly reminds her that she has little time left to find a match which forces reader to move on and try to find someone else who’s more willing to marry
of course Eloise gets jealous which makes her realize her mistake and it end’s with Eloise confessing right before the day reader is about to propose to another girl saying something along the lines of “dont marry her”
happy ending pleaseeee
Eloise being courted by fem! royalty! reader
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note -> I absolutely love this idea! I made this into HCs and a scenario since I dont have any idea how to make it into a fic, sorry :[
warnings -> none.
content includes -> fluff/angst, smitten reader, jealousy.
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You didnt want to get married, but you had to, as you knew your father was at the brink of death and you would soon need to ascend the throne, forcing you to marry
You disliked the girls this season, they only liked you for your power and money, you wanted someone who would genuienly love you
The moment your eyes layed on Eloise Bridgerton you knew you were smitten, and the way she talks and jokes always make you laugh
You tried to court her, always sending her, her mother and her sisters flowers and gifts, dancing with her at balls, reading and talking about her favorite books, even becoming close friends with some of her brothers
But Eloise did not want you, or at least she acted like it, so your mother forced you to find someone else
The girl wasn't too bad, but she wasn't Eloise, and you knew you could never love her, even if you tried, but she was the best choice from the ton, so you asked her father for her hand, which he agreed
You didnt understand why Eloise was so upset that you were courting another, she didn't want you, after all, but she proved you wrong the day before you were going to propose
"You cannot marry her! I wouldnt allow it!" Eloise said as she grabbed your arm, her eyes filled with guilt and jealousy.
"Why not? I wanted you, Eloise, but you made it quite clear you did not want me, and I must marry if I were to ascend the throne." you said as you looked back at her, you loved her, but she did not love you, so you have to marry another.
You freed your arm from her grip and you turned away to leave, until you heard her say-
"But I want you! I was wrong, i was stuborn, I want you and I do not wish to see you marry another!" she said, a tear running down her cheek, stopping you dead in your tracks.
You turned back to her, losing your breath, she wanted you? All along she wanted you?
"Are you certian you want me?" you asked her and she nodded, looking back up at you.
"I have loved you ever since you started courting me, but I was too stuborn to admit it, i have only realised it when you started courting another, please, i cant see you marry another." her voice broke as she spoke, her eyes begging and pleading for you.
"I could never imagine choosing another over you, especially now that I know you return my undying love." you said as you bringed her closer, pulling her in a kiss which she gladly returned.
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leohamatoblog · 2 days
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Them as Bridgerton Scenes: Confessing
note: different quotes from different scenes will be spliced together/modified to fit the character.
Leo:
"Why can't you just look at me!?"
"Because I fear of what I'll do!"
Leo's blue eyes grew to look frightened. You went on a date and were excited to tell him all about it. The person was wonderful to you all evening and you looked forward to seeing them again. You were until Leo refused to hear anything at all about how your night had went. It was odd, he was always willing to listen to you.
It happened a few weeks ago that you were playing truth or dare with the turtles. April introduced you to them a few years ago, you and Leo became attached at the hip. He thought highly of you, and you him. A game of truth or dare came about and Casey dared you to kiss Leo as payback for your dare on him. You weren't one to back down so you kissed who you were dared to. But there was a problem.
Something changed in Leo. He grew distant, cold even. He felt himself choking when he saw you and unable to look you in the eye. The kiss meant nothing but meant everything. He had wanted to kiss you for so long but you didn't seem to feel the same. You continued on dating while he stayed back and watched you.
"What are you saying? Leo, you haven't even looked at me in weeks! Why?" You pleaded, walking closer to him.
He kept his eyes on the ground. "I can't tell you."
"You can't or you won't?" You whispered. You were met with silence. "Answer me!" You shouted.
"I am a gentleman!" He shouted back. "My father raised me to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend in your presence." His voice dwindling to a whisper.
"I don't understand..." You whispered, your eyes finding his.
"I have spent so long trying to feel less, trying to be the kind of man society expects me to be. And for a moment, I thought I had succeeded." Leo bit the inside of his lip, his eyes casting down to the floor. "But these past few weeks have been full of confounding feelings. Feelings like a total inability to stop thinking about you." He slowly looked up, his eyes shining. "About that kiss. Feelings like dreaming of you when I'm asleep. And in fact, preferring sleep because that is where I might find you. A feeling that is like torture, but one which I cannot, will not, do not want to give up." His eyes became determined.
"I-I...I don't know what to say." You whispered. "I thought," you swallowed, "maybe you forgot that."
"I could never forget that." He whispered back, leaning down so his eyes were level with yours. "I could never forget that rush, no matter how hard I try."
"Leo..." You breathed.
He leaned in and closed the gap between your lips. You knew you 100% owed Vern.
Raph:
"Will you please just tell me what's wrong!?"
"Will it shut you up!?"
You and Raph had known eachother for a long time. You met one night at the park. You were riding your dirtbike (or other device) and he decided he would challenge you from the shadows. It wasn't until you hit a rock and flew off the bike that you saw his true form. You were instantly drawn to him because of his difference.
Your friendship blossomed and you looked forward to meeting him every week, doing different activities like dancing or just walks. You exchanged numbers and talked every moment you could. You considered him to be your best friend. His family even liked you and accepted you, you were happy for the first time in a long time. Up until two weeks ago, anyway.
Raph had been acting stranger than usual. Not saying much, acting like you were genuinely annoying him. He was brushing you off and making excuses to not see you. You finally had enough and went to the lair to confront him for his odd behavior. You didn't expect him to get this angry about it, however. You poked the bear too hard.
"God, Raph! You're so childish! Why is it so hard for you to talk like an adult? You need to grow up!" You snapped, walking toward him.
He huffed and rolled his eyes. "I am grown!"
"Then show it, dammit!" You snapped. "Tell me why you now hate me."
"I never said I hated you." He mumbled.
"Then what is it, Raphael!?" You shouted, shoving his arm. "I can't play these games with you!"
"I love you!" He shouted, his eyes widened. "I’ve loved you from the moment we raced each other in that park. I've loved you at every dance, on every walk, every time we’ve been together and every time we’ve been apart." His face softened, he ran a hand over his face. "Ya don't have to accept it, you don't have to embrace it or even allow it. Knowing you, ya probably won't." He swallowed, moving closer to you. "But ya gotta know it in your heart. Ya must feel it, because I do. I love you." He whispered.
"Raph...I didn't know." You whispered, putting a hand on his arm. "I wouldn't have pushed you."
"I know I'm imperfect, but I will humble myself before you, because I can't imagine my life without ya." He whispered back. "Y/N, I mean it."
"Prove it." You muttered, your eyes finding his green ones.
Raph reached and cupped your face, pulling you into a kiss. You were thankful for that night in the park.
Donnie:
"You're avoiding me."
"I'm not, I said I'm busy."
Donnie was, for a lack of better terms, a strange guy. He had a way with words and a way with actions. Geeky charm, if you will. You found yourself drawn to him the moment April brought you to meet the turtles. Dare you say, you considered him to be your best friend. You had a lot in common and he always treated you kindly.
He was always willing to help you with anything you needed. You enjoyed listening to him ramble on and always valued his thoughts and opinions. He offered a safe place for you to go when you needed to escape and you were a great listener. Donnie liked that about you, he trusted you and you him. You could both be yourselves without fearing any judgment.
The strange thing was that he was suddenly shutting you out. You figured it was because he was stressed but he was completely fine with April. He also didn't offer to help fix your laptop without you asking like usual, he wasn't acting like his usual self. It was starting to weigh on you. You felt like you did or said something to offend him.
"You're not too busy for April, not even Casey." You replied, crossing your arms. "Did I do something or say something?"
"No." He simply said, not looking at you.
"Donnie, you're obviously upset with me about something." You stated, putting a hand on his shoulder. He moved away. "You're mad at me."
"I said I'm not mad." He stated again, standing up.
"Then why are you acting like this?" You pleaded. "I promise whatever it is I'll fix it!"
"You vex me." Donnie admitted, his body turned away from yours. "You are the bane of my existence. I did not ask for this, to be plagued by these feelings. Being driven to distraction everytime you walk in a room." He peered over his shoulder, his eyes on the floor. "I have never met anyone like you. It is maddening how you consume my very being." His voice had gone to just above a whisper. His eyes had become glossy. "I burn for you. Every scar, every flaw, every imperfection." He swallowed. "I love you."
"Donnie..I-I had no idea.." You whispered, walking towards him. "All this time..?"
"All I find myself being able to breathe for," he turned around and walked towards you, "is for you."
"Just kiss me." You breathed, reaching up to embrace him.
Donnie captured his lips with yours. You felt like a real prince/princess.
Mikey:
"How could you do this to me!?"
"I said I'm sorry!"
You were putting yourself back into the dating scene. Mikey was all for helping you and listening to your troubles. He even helped you ready for the dates and hyped you up. He always wanted to hear all about what worked and what didn't. He just wanted to make sure that you were going to find someone to make you happy.
Mikey was harbouring a dark secret, he deeply felt for you, more than a friend should. He couldn't stop thinking of you. He hated you going out with other people, despised it even. But he couldn't tell you that because he couldn't give you what you deserved, a normal life.
Casey introduced you two, and while Mikey was always flirty, he found himself smitten right away. He tried to be a gentleman and treat you right, hoping you'd get the hint, but you never did. Instead, you treated him like you did his brothers. It stung but he never wanted you to know, but you found out anyway, you only caught the end of the conversation.
"I really liked them! They were kind and-and treated me nicely." You snapped. "Why would you lie to them?"
"I didn't." He stated, his eyes on the floor.
"But you did! Mikey, I'm not dating anyone!" You huffed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "I would be if you hadn't of said that."
"I lied about the dating thing but nothing else." He mumbled.
"What?" You asked, walking closer. "What do you mean about nothing else? What else did you say?"
"Everything I told them was true. I can't stop thinking of you. From when you wake up to when you go to sleep, and your dreams. My thoughts of you never end." He whispered, his eyes brimming with tears. "With you, conversation has always been easy. Your laughter brings me joy." He slowly looked up from the floor. "To meet someone beautiful is one thing, but to meet your best friend in the most beautiful of people is another." He sadly smiled at you. "I want a life that suites us both...So," he swallowed, "tell me you feel nothing and I'll walk away forever."
"Mikey...Since when..? Why?" You whispered. "Why did you wait to tell me?"
"Because I'm tired of pretending and I can't continue acting as if I don't love you." He replied, reaching out and grabbing your hands. "Because I do. I love all of you."
"I love you too." You whispered.
Mikey's hands went around your waist and pulled you into a kiss. You walked in just in time.
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nalyra-dreaming · 3 days
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/nalyra-dreaming/750916431920676864/hi-nalyra-i-may-be-reading-you-wrong-so-clarify
Regarding my last ask I have a rough idea but you can go ahead and explain
Sure!
So, buckle up ;)
So I just checked but the only true Loumand post I tagged “lol“ on was this one (if I saw that correctly):
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Note that "I can SMELL the discourse that will happen already" there.
That is something I anticipate - because, well. Armand... is Armand.
I'll elaborate the (book) canon on that below the cut:
Armand has been a coven master for centuries, in the Children of Satan/Darkness and later as the master at the theater. He was literally tasked to uphold the laws of the vampires and did so as he saw fit. I have talked about them here, note also the difference these laws go through in the books:
Armand does what he sees is best, which does not always align with what others think is best. For example he usually hunts down rogue vampires, "cleaning up" so to speak, which is something that Lestat for example is loathe to do in the later books.
And he canonically influences Louis several time with the mind/spell gift, to make him do something - even after he promised Louis not to do so (here an ask with quotes):
Armand originally is interested in Louis because he is Lestat's ... he literally "imprinted" on Lestat when showed up after his turning, because Lestat reminded him so much of Marius.
Lestat goes to him to plead for Louis' and Claudia's life after Claudia tried to kill him, and Armand, though he did promise he would help Lestat if he asked him to, throws him into a dungeon instead, starves him, and then uses him at the trial against Louis and Claudia.
The trial itself happens because Louis - even deeply infatuated with Armand - decides to leave with Claudia and Madeleine after all. (And of course the coven knows, and insists on the rules.)
Armand uses the spell gift on him as they are taken by the coven to be tried.
Louis is sentenced to be entombed, something the original cult Armand was the leader of did to young vampires - until they're mad or manage to dig themselves out.
Claudia is sentenced to death. Madeleine as well. Later on it is revealed that Armand has a little surgical theater there as well, where he conducts the experiment of chopping off Claudia's head to sew it onto a grown woman's body. But he is unsatisfied with the result and puts Claudia and Madeleine into the sun after.
Armand digs Louis out after a while, and Louis feeds (a lot) and destroys the coven.
He thinks Lestat died there, but actually it is later revealed that Armand throws Lestat off a tower instead, and tells Lestat Louis and Claudia are dead.
Louis goes on, numb, and Armand... tags along, keeping a "veil" between Louis and the world.
Louis stays with Armand, because he has nowhere else to go - and despite knowing that Armand killed Claudia.
He stays until the veil is lifted and Armand finally tells him Lestat did not die.
Armand... is Armand.
We will see the horrific things he can do wrt the Devil's Minion arc with Daniel as well, because Armand hunted Daniel. And the beginning of their relationship was far from cute. I think that will be episode 5.
Also, Armand is not too big on consent. He does what he thinks best.
I reblogged something earlier wrt this as well:
So where does that leave us with the show and wrt my tag? :)
When Armand says he never hurt Louis then he is not lying. But look at their faces after:
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That's history, baby.
Because no, Armand does not physically hurt Louis.
But he literally hurts everyone Louis loves in an effort to keep Louis for himself.
He experiments and then kills Claudia (and Madeleine). He hurts Lestat and tells him Louis is dead. He tells Louis Lestat is dead and keeps him under the "veil".
And it will be far from pretty.
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nerdieforpedro · 2 days
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Weekend Update 05/19/2024
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Three weeks in a row. I should play the lottery, I might hit for some big money!
Nerdie, please. We think it’s fine that you play the lottery, but have you done much this week?
I will have you know, that I worked three 12 hour shifts in a row, one of which I was the charge nurse. Something I’ve never done before and only had a 4 hour class once. The person that was supposed to be training me was not there so I just did trial by fire. I also worked this weekend. 
Though the highlight of the week was Friday night!
What? You had a hot date? Good for you!
Huh? This is Nerdie you’re talking about, no. Not at all what happened. I got to see Hozier live in a concert! It was wonderful! I might still be singing all the songs, have played them for my coworkers and that one guy whose room I was in for 30 minutes getting him cleaned up and bed changed should know a fair bit of “Almost (Sweet Music)” and “Something New.” I think I also had a brunch with my family this week somewhere in there.
We have so many questions…did that man even know what you were singing? Is he now a fan? How was brunch? How did you even find out about the concert? Why wasn’t that the first thing you said?
Sometimes you gotta bury the lead. Brunch was with mama Nerdie and two of Nerdie’s brothers. I have three total. I’m the only girl. The concert was magical, I’m trying to figure out something for September but it’s likely sold out. I think I really lucked out last Friday. 
Nerdie, do you have anything fanfic related? We’re happy to know you’re doing well. We wonder sometimes, but you know, this is Tumblr.
This week will be a bit different. I did a lot of reading last week but this week, I didn’t read much of anything except beta reading for a couple people. So Nerdie will highlight some series she thinks you should peek at:
Symphony by @maggiemayhemnj (A wonderful series featuring Joel - who is having a moment with his new hair by the way. I did notice, how could one not? Has Joel and a female OFC in post outbreak Jackson.) Fun fact - one of my patients called me symphony so it’s going to be one of my many aliases now.
If Wishes Came True by @schnarfer (A Dieter Bravo trilogy. Our beloved trash panda is many things and has many expressions, some not so great. Can it turn into something worthwhile?)
Headshots by @secretelephanttattoo (Marcus Pike - being the sweet man that he is. The OFC is a photographer. Love blooms. It will give you warm fuzzies and you’ll sniffle. It’s totally fine to do so.)
Bloody Kisses by @perotovar (Shane Morrissey and Tim rockford are the combo I was not aware I needed and now I think about them. The longing, the realization, the understanding, the build up, and the growing pains. Just read it and you’ll get it.)
IRL by @grogusmum (A sweet Javi G fic. You and Javi have been chatting about your shared interest in movies and sparks fly. So much so that you fly to see him in person. How does that go? Read and find out.)
These are five series I’ve read, loved and will read again because I enjoy them. I hope you all do too. 
I believe I did post a Dieter one shot for the Dieter Bravo Brain Rot May challenge about aliens. 
Also @fhatbhabiee back! 💖💖
I was tagged by people for WIP Wednesday through Saturday so I’ll do something from my not titled Pero x Dragon fic (look - it was a thought I had and it morphed into this but it’s dialogue):
Darkness is beginning to take him as is the cold. Pero cannot feel his limbs nor tell if he’s moving them. “Hmmpf, you care nothing of your life? Just to let it slip away like this. You appeared to be a warrior of some sort. Do all human warriors lay on their belly and wait for their final breath? Such a pity.” This voice, such torture before death to be mocked like this, couldn’t he have died in battle?  “I’m already in hell only hearing this voice before I die. Goddammit.” The mercenary laments.  “Are all humans fools like this? Why will you not heed my words? I am not trying to reach you for simple vexation.” “Stop with your flowery words then. Say what you actually need. I’m not going to listen to you the entire time before I leave this earth.”
Pero is the type to curse and argue with demons, angels, monsters and Gods if it means he has the last word. I stand by this. Contrary to what this conversation reads like, Pero does not die. His fate could be worse than death, we’ll have to see. 👀
The Peeps who maybe tagged me? @tinytinymenace @connectioneverywhere @magpiepills @604to647 @djarinmuse
@megamindsecretlair and @for-a-longlongtime There are either people I missed or people who didn't tag me. My bad either way. 🤣
I’ve also been toying with which series between my Marcus therapy series and my sweet Javi P series to start posting on Tumblr. I’m not sure which one. Everyone one’s welcome to ask me questions about any of these WIPs, just know I may not stop talking about them like most fic writers. 
I think I do dialogue well in my fics, and wacky ideas, but I could use work on world building, smut, descriptions and other things. I think. Who knows, I'm just going to keep wiring and we'll see what happens.
Stay safe and hydrated everyone!
Love Nerdie!
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blueskyscribe · 2 days
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So if Season 2 of Earthspark had started with the Decepticons and Autobots reconciled, I wouldn't have batted an eye. It's a cartoon, that is par for the course.
HOWEVER I'm happy the show didn't go that route, I'm happy the Decepticons are still the antagonists.
Joining forces to fight a common foe makes sense; Mandroid wanted to destroy ALL robots. We see these teamups a lot (and I love them every time), they happened in G1, Beast Wars, and TFP off the top of my head. But typically when the threat is over, so is the alliance.
Look at this from the Decepticons' perspective: Megatron leads them to this backwater planet, changes sides, and DESTROYS the only way back to Cybertron. For the crime of existing on this planet, which you never wanted to go to and cannot leave, Megatron + the Autobots assist GHOST in hunting you down (even if you're non-violent) to be imprisoned and experimented on. And when do the Autobots turn against GHOST? Only after GHOST starts targeting them and the Terrans.
Don't you think the Decepticons would see that in a cynical light? "Oh, it's a problem when the leopards eat YOUR face, huh?" And would Mandroid even have had all that power if the Autobots hadn't enabled GHOST, who enabled Mandroid?
Hashtag was really empathetic towards Starscream and I do believe he is fond of her. But it would be odd for him to give up his ambitions and ideology because a child was kind to him. You can like a child and hate their parents. And if we're talking about Starscream's PTSD being his big motivator . . . all the Terrans and Autobots are besties with Megatron, the guy who caused it. (If anything I would expect Starscream to kidnap Hashtag, like "this is for your own good, everyone except ~me~ is a bad influence." Actually I would love this as a mini-arc.)
Tarantulas is the only Decepticon who I could see immediately switching sides because he was very lukewarm about being a 'Con and really only cared about doing science and surviving. But I don't think he showed up in the finale so I'm not sure he's aware of what went down.
Anyway, I do think it's likely many (or maybe all) of the Decepticons will eventually resolve things with the Autobots, I just think it will be better if they let it play out naturally instead of making it instant like flipping a switch.
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mxi-88 · 16 hours
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Amy Kiriwo redemption is real and here's why (an analysis/speculation)
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Ok. I don't normally make posts like these but since I've posted Iruma-kun art on this blog a few times some of you may be aware that I really really REALLY like Amy Kiriwo. I really adore Mairuma in general but Amy specifically makes me go fucking coconuts as a fan of that type of character (obsessive, desire-driven, yandere, whatever)—and also because Amy has a certain unique charm about him, whether that be the gap between his twisted personality and his ditzy demeanor or the unique setting, so on and so forth. But I also tend to like villainous characters in general, because they're so unhinged and fun and interesting to think about!
Usually I hate when characters like these get redeemed because the whole appeal of them is how unpredictable and outrageous they are in their villainy, and more often than not, a redemption gets rid of (or at least severely dampens) these characteristics!
HOWEVER. I just caught up with the manga for the first time more or less since Deviculum last year and I just cannot help but feel absolutely insane about how much a "redemption" (heavy quotes here) for Amy is being built towards, and yet I rarely see much discussion about this in fan buzz. This is both in terms of general narrative structure as well as a certain scene in the recent Battler Party arc.
Disclaimer: I have terminal brainrot and some of this might be confirmation bias. But maybe it will still give you some food for thought. It's cool if you hate Amy and don't agree with my interpretation just be nice ok guys?
Part1: Iruma's Belief
I think a good jumping off point for this argument would be addressing a point of contention I've seen floating around in this fandom sometimes: Why does Iruma still believe in Amy?
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I actually understand why some people might be confused about this. After all, Amy has done nothing but hurt Iruma and the people he cares about, and he has every right to feel upset, angry, and betrayed after he found out the senpai who he'd related to and looked up to so much was nothing but a facade.
Putting his reasons aside for a second, this scene in Deviculum isn't actually the first time Iruma has acted like this toward Amy. It's easy to miss or forget about, but even after everything that happened at the Battler Party, Iruma never shows any hostility, even retroactively, toward Amy.
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He kept what happened with Amy a secret from even Asmodeus and Clara—but he doesn't fret over it like he does hiding the fact that he's human. Iruma just doesn't think it was pressing enough that Asmodeus and Clara needed to know about it. Of course, keep in mind that Iruma doesn't interact with Amy at all from the Battler Party all the way until Deviculum, so he doesn't know the extent of the danger he's actually in.
I think Iruma believes in that weak but ambitious demon he met during the Rookie Hunt. Even if Amy revealed himself to have that perverted obsession with despair, even if he tried to kill his classmates and cause chaos, I think to Iruma it doesn't change the fact that Amy is still weak, just like him.
I think a lot of people forget just how much impact Amy had on Iruma when he was first adjusting to the demon world: he didn't have much of a real ambition until he saw that there were demons like Amy who (seemingly) wanted to make the world a more equal place for those without magic—those like Iruma. (A side note, but I imagine this made the part of Amy's speech during Deviculum saying there would be no place for him particularly hard for Iruma to hear from him specifically).
The thing is though—Iruma isn't being entirely naive here. It's true that no matter what Amy does, evil or otherwise, he cannot change the fact that he was born with weak magic.
It's constantly pointed out that Amy relies on magic that's not his own.
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It's pointed out so consistently every time he makes an appearance that for a while I thought there was gonna be some weird twist where it wasn't actually Amy? I'm still not confident in how to pin this obvious foreshadowing but for now I firmly believe it's meant to remind the reader that Amy is dependent on his borrowed magic, most likely from Baal—physically, and maybe even emotionally? (It seems possible from the way Asmodeus's narration in this panel is framed that there could be something more insidious at play like experimentation or something, but that's just speculation)
Amy is dependent on most likely Baal's magic just like Iruma is with Sullivan's magic. They may be gaining more and more power to the naked eye, but the moment the "tool" to express that power is stripped of them, they're helpless again. There's a reason Nishi highlighted the direct parallel of both of their magic devices being ring-shaped.
Iruma believes (or wants to believe) that the facade Amy showed him had a glimmer of truth to it because of how strongly it affected him. Of course, it's also because Iruma is an inherently kind and also selfish person. In my opinion, he wants to have the Amy who he looked up to so much, even if he barely ever actually existed. This is why what he declares to Amy at Deviculum is framed as a desire. This is a strong theme of the series and it's something I'll touch on again in another section.
I feel like I should mention after all of that talk that I don't think Amy is actually secretly tortured about his weakness/abandonment or some sadboy schtick like that. We'll get into this more in the next section, but any self-pity or anger he once harbored was something that was flushed out of him quite thoroughly. Right now, he is very much narrow-mindedly concerned with his obsession with eating Iruma, his goals are aligned with Baal and the 6 Fingers, and his lack of magic is solved by his collar, so it's natural he doesn't really care.
I feel like any discussion of Amy's motivations or themes gets shut down a lot with accusations of "making a villain character sympathetic for no reason" when really I only care about villains being interesting. Like I said at the start, the last thing I wanna do is take Amy's unhingedness or autonomy away, because it makes for a really enjoyable villain. I just genuinely believe that Amy is being framed this way deliberately, and I think it opens some fascinating avenues for his character development other than just "Iruma realizes Amy is actually evil after all because unconditional belief is for naive WEENIES and they defeat him".
Anyway, that leads me to the next section, which I admit, is a bit heavier on the interpretative side, hence my disclaimer.
Part 2: Baal
Listen, I know it's a shounen manga and all, but keep in mind Amy is still a 17-18 year old teen. He doesn't have much life experience. He had a hell of a shit childhood even if he did have a weird sadism thing going on. All of these things don't excuse his evil deeds—obviously. But I do think taking these factors into account is absolutely necessary if we're going to try and understand why he is the way he is.
I'm not gonna recount it beat by beat, but as a kid Amy was not only shunned by his family and peers for his lack of magic, but also by his only friend for something that
"Grooming" is a term with very heavy connotations that I'd like to avoid, but at the very least the way Baal takes Amy "under his wing" is very reminiscent of cult conditioning. Members of cults are often recruited in strained or distorted emotional states in which they have a greater desire for acceptance. This tactic is successful in maintaining loyalty in cults because the members are convinced that no one else will accept them besides the cult figurehead or leader—the result is usually a hostility for the world outside of the cult, paranoia about leaving the cult, or both.
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Amy, a young child at this point, says outright that he's being ostracized for his behavior, but Baal validates it, and thereby earns his loyalty. Amy is a child at this point; even if Baal claims he's more "twisted" inherently, I think it's unreasonable to characterize them as equals in this relationship, especially when Amy depends on his magic. I think the Amy we know could be very different if he joined Baal when he was older and less impressionable.
You could say Baal didn't validate Amy with the active intent of emotionally manipulating him, it was just a declaration of his honest beliefs—and I honestly half agree with you. Functionally, however, I do still believe that a conditioning process is what happened. In this same scene Amy seemed to still be at least a little bit troubled about how gifting his horn to his friend troubled her and reflected on his abnormalcy, but by the time he reveals all to Iruma, he shows no reservations at all. He doesn't really reflect on the hierarchy which caused him so much suffering outside of how it contributes to more chaos, more despair.
This interpretation (which I've held for quite a while) brings me to a certain scene in the recent Battler Party arc that was eerily reminiscent of this dynamic. It was what spurred me to type all of this out at 5am on a Monday night.
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Humor me for a minute, because I realize the comparisons between Palome/Galna and Amy/Baal are not 1:1, but I feel like there are enough similarities that it's worth talking about.
The idea of a demon with twisted perversions which were encouraged by a sibling figure with an ulterior motive is already a pretty compelling parallel to me, but the fact that it was specifically the story behind the Magitool's Battler Party exhibition makes me think that, just maybe, the parallel might have actually been an intentional allusion.
In particular, the line about Palome "facing her desires earnestly" caught my attention. Quite honestly it seems like Amy's fixation on Iruma has become his #1 priority—and although he certainly has returned to origins (strongly associated with base desires) in my opinion his obsession with Iruma, as twisted as it is, is probably the strongest desire he's felt that exists somewhat removed from Baal's direct encouragement. It's personal. It doesn't serve a greater purpose in Baal's plan. Remember the cult analogy I loosely used for comparison earlier? Cult mentality punishes individuality. Food for thought.
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There's this great comic by gigausagi on Twitter (it's 🤏shippy so only click if you're cool with that) that explores the idea of Amy's obsession with Iruma conflicting with the will of Baal/the 6 Fingers—I think this is one perfectly natural way his character could develop. I'll get into more detailed hopes/hunches about this later, though.
If the Palome/Galna parallel is an intentional parallel, I think it's really interesting how much it emphasizes the lack of empathy Galna has for her sister because of how it would in turn highlight that feature in Baal, something that I previously had to desperately piece together from subtext. On the other hand, for all the familial fondness Amy seems to have for Baal, at least on some level however shallow, it's already pretty obvious Baal does not care much about Amy outside of how useful he is to his cause.
It might seem silly of me to clarify this considering he's, y'know... the villain, and their thing isn't exactly friendship and rainbows especially considering their beliefs. None of the 6 Fingers display any real fondness for each other—Amy is just the exception here, albeit small.
And Baal does actually have belief in Amy—he believes in Amy's "messed up head". He believes that Amy will prove useful; he believes in Amy's potential for evil. It's a transactional belief, benefitting the cause that they both align themselves with—and which, notably, ends with him in power. Iruma's belief in Amy is largely the opposite. He believes that Amy is capable of good, and his belief in him is founded in the bond they formed.
I also wanna make it clear again that this isn't me scapegoating Baal for everything Amy does because that's lazy and boring and they make it pretty damn clear Amy is all-in on their plans together. However... I don't think it's unreasonable to think this contrast could be a set-up for something in the future.
How could this manifest? Who knows. Right now Baal is more of a passive villain, so it's hard to predict the kind of drastic actions he could take before he does them. Maybe Amy will outlive his usefulness, or maybe there'll be some internal conflict within the group that will strain their allyship. Or maybe Amy's personal desires will conflict with the goals of the 6 Fingers like I mentioned earlier.
Ultimately I'm more concerned with the thematic implications of a conflict like this, which brings us to...
Part 3: Desire
(Spoilers for 2nd Year Battler Party Arc)
I find it veeery interesting the way the protagonists keep aligning themselves with demons like Beem.
They are extremely desire and thrill-driven, I would argue more than any other non-returned to origins demon we've met so far—their parents even suspected they could be returning to origins as a child.
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Mairuma has such an overwhelming theme of desire. Mairuma wants you to chase your most private, most shameful, most visceral and selfish desires. Sylvia even went through her evil cycle she was so desperate to fulfill her desire to paint Galna. Mairuma again and again seeks to tell us that there is nothing wrong with being selfish and reaching for what we want.
So far I've talked about two desires that are relevant to the future of Amy's character.
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And yeah... it's pretty much spelled out for us here. So, if Amy is still latched onto the idea of eating Iruma, and Iruma is still latched onto the idea of his relatable senpai, how would that conflict be resolved? Well... We've basically been talking about it this entire time. Indulge me for a bit and let me spin the scenario that plagues my mind for you.
I briefly alluded to the possibility of Amy being subjected to some kind of experimentation, presumably to enhance his magical ability. It doesn't have to be this exactly, but nevertheless Amy ends up doing something drastic in order to fulfill his desire of eating Iruma—and in the process either gets used by Baal and the 6 Fingers and thrown away, or intervenes, inadvertently throwing off their plan enough to have him meet a similar fate. It's important here that his magic is taken away somehow—maybe the ring in his collar gets crushed or something. I think it could also be interesting if during this conflict Iruma also lost his ring, or even took it off willingly, to level their footing.
The point is that Amy follows his desire to the point of veering off the path of outright villainy, and onto that personal desire I spoke of earlier.
However, one thing I'm absolutely sure of is that Iruma's desire will be granted. I don't have as much of a concrete picture of this, but I would be extremely shocked if Suzuki "I want to pick everything up" Iruma ever goes back on his desire—especially when it was that first confrontation with Amy that he realized that was his desire in the first place. This, combined with the ominous ass dialogue "It's too late for me, Iruma-kun..." from the panel at the start make me absolutely certain that some sort of Amy redemption is coming—I only wanted to lay out some of my thoughts about it.
I don't think any redemption he gets will cause him to be watered down—Nishi writes way too many unnecessarily insane scenes with Amy for her to just stop cold turkey in my opinion. And even if it ends up incorporating none of the talking points I delved into in this post, I'm still sure that she could do an outstanding job with the task.
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And lest we forget how Amy saved him from falling to his death. I think this desire to keep Iruma from dying meaninglessly (or being harvested for his magic or whatever crazy shit 6 Fingers are doing) is also quite a likely point of conflict that could come into play.
What do you all think? Have I gone coconuts? Is anyone else overthinking this the way I am? Is it not that deep? To tell you the truth I probably could have written even more but it's now 8am and I need a power nap. Might edit it up some more when I wake up. Let me know...
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phoenixyfriend · 1 day
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This was on a reblog of a fic concept someone added one of my posts but I decided it was risking backlash against the person, and also it ended up half vent post, so just tucking it into its own little post here instead.
I'm glad you're enjoying this, but... Okay, actually, I'm really sorry but this goes against what I was thinking with this post in a lot of ways. I know you didn't intend any malice, but I just. I cannot not talk about this right now. I need people to know to just... not do this to my posts. Because it keeps happening.
I do know which "the younger person should be the sugar daddy, like they made an app or something" post you're thinking about, and i'ts a good post, but that is 100% an Obikin plot. Cody is not a guy to make a super successful app. That is an Anakin thing. In that respect, this is an Obikin fic in Cod*Wan clothing. I mean, I've talked about wanting people to do more Obikin plots in Cod*Wan, but that's about exploring the age difference and power dynamics, not Cody Is A Tech Whiz.
A billion is too much. The only, only ethical ways to get to billionaire status are 'lottery' and 'relative I never heard of just died and left me everything.' In both cases, the only ethical way to proceed is to invest enough to live off of comfortably, and donate the rest. If an app makes that much money? The app is screwing someone over.
I also cannot imagine Obi-Wan in the financial industries sector unless he absolutely loathes his job or is an auditor who delights in making Rich People's Lives Miserable. Better option would be that Obi-Wan is the president of a charity that Cody partners with, like the CEO of a Free Housing For The Homeless initiative or a big name lawyer in an activist lobby for environmentalism or something. This might just be my "I am a business major who hates the business major norms" and look at financial services industry types with uhhhh distaste. If he's a financial advisor, it is for a nonprofit. At most, he is part of a company that specializes in helping rich people funnel their money into charitable ventures.
This also just doesn't fight my envisioning of either Obi-Wan or Cody.
I do need to throw in that my first thought reading this was my Codakin version where Cody wins the lottery and Anakin is the sugar baby. It's not that similar, but the vibes were there (for me).
Finally, it's just... the point of this post is that I find it frustrating when people make Cody the same age because I find it disingenuous to flatten the power dynamic. Some people do it fine, are multi-shippers who are as honest about Cod*Wan as they are with something like Obikin. If they have one fic where Cod*Wan are the same age with no power diff, and another where the power dynamic is flipped, and a third where the power dynamic is as in canon and just explored as necessary, that's fine.
But with the number of Cod*wan (and Barr*ssoka, which is full on NOTP for me as a direct result of this behavior, despite having a canon age diff of 4yrs) folk that have talked shit to and about me and mine for doing something similar with ships like Rexsoka or Obikin... The amount of shit I've had to deal with for shipping Rexsoka for adjusting ages in a modern AU, coming from people who do the same thing with Cod*Wan, is the driving force of this post. It's basically this: If I don't get to change the ages a bit to make things palatable, then neither does anyone else.
This is not just about the age difference. It's about looking at canon and going 'if you guys are going to give me shit for my ship, then play it straight on your end. What does it look like when you're honest about the power dynamic?
There is a reason my first suggestion is Cody having a crush on his boss.
The intent was always that Obi-Wan is the sugar daddy, because Obi-Wan is the General. Because Obi-Wan is the one with power. Because Obi-Wan is the one with control.
Because this post was about "if I don't get to change my ships to make them less problematic, then neither does anyone else."
Also because I just find a lot of Cod*Wan fics to be OOC, and not in the fun way.
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confessedlyfannish · 2 months
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Writing Prompt #12
Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.
Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.
Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.
While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.
These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".
There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—
"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.
But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.
He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.
"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.
"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.
"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.
He doesn't look away from the man.
"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."
"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.
The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.
The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"
Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."
"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."
He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.
"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.
"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.
"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."
"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.
"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."
"Him."
"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."
"Why me?"
"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."
This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.
"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"
"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."
Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."
"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."
"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."
"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."
"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."
"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.
"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.
"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."
"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."
"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."
Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.
Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.
"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."
The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.
"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.
"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."
"I have more than one."
"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."
"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"
There is a pause.
"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."
"Resolve what?"
"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."
"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.
"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."
Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."
The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.
"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."
"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."
"They will have already muzzled him."
Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.
"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."
"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—
Clack!
"sluuuuurp!"
"Master Timothy, honestly!"
"Sorry Alfred!"
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kaltacore · 4 months
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no but essek's abnormal behaviours in the last arc and especially in episode 140 are my roman empire. which is ironic because aeor is something of a roman empire itself. but in all seriousness, it was the episode that made me realise i love essek and his development so much and it kinda summarised it even before caleb's epilogue.
and i mean the "it's not fair" scene specifically. it's like, an epitome of his whole character progression from a person who put An Objectively Important Goal above all else without hesitation to someone who can't help but care for people around even more than his goal, no matter how big and relevant it is.
the mighty nein - and he alongside them - pretty much saved the world and freed an ancient city from thousand-year-long suffering. they defeated nine extremely powerful menacing entities who managed to stay out of everyone's sight for years and were so close to achieving their goal and dooming exandria in the process. they did the impossible and became heroes and somehow, they survived, even though they had bidden farewells a couple of hours ago because they had already understood what they had been facing. and nevertheless. they made it.
and none of them was celebrating.
mighty nein are basically essek's only friends. he knew them to be very unusual people, to put it lightly, loud and stubborn and completely inescapable once they consider you to be one of their own. and they showed him so much kindness and put so much faith in him, they were here playing the most atrocious music ever and digging clay in his backyard for a spell they invented just to help one of theirs and asking him if he could bring them pastries the day after they found out he was lying to them and had started a war. they were chaotic and weird and sometimes unbearable but most importantly they were carrying so much hope with them all this time - a hope they could end the war, a hope they could stop the angel of irons cult, a hope they could get better, a hope he could get better, and now, finally, that they could save their lost friend.
and that hope shattered, just like that, the moments after they'd already made the impossible. they saved so many souls - and then could not get back just that one.
for essek "my intentions were never good they were important" thelyss it just. shouldn't have mattered. they won. it could have been worse. people die and when they die they rarely come back. they should've been happy everyone else barely made it alive.
but for some reason, mighty nein being so defeated after they saved the world exposed him to that overwhelming feeling of injustice and unfairness. and i mean, there were many things essek considered to be unfair, but when i watched his first appearance and his interactions with mighty nein later on til their reunion in aeor arc, i wouldn't dare to guess that one of the things on that list would be something that personal. and personal not even to him.
the thing is, essek didn't even know who that guy was. why mighty nein cared about him so much. he had an idea, i guess, that he was their friend once, or someone in that body was. it was also a person who wanted to unleash a terrifying horrific aberration onto the material plane. it was a person very dedicated to killing essek and his friends - and they still didn't take any pleasure in fighting him. essek didn't feel strongly about lucien or molly, because he never knew them.
i don't think he mourned his death and failed resurrection. he mourned mighty nein's hope, the one they put in him when they had no reason to, the one they offered yasha in the cathedral and the one they kept after the spell for veth failed and the one they carried til the very end because they wanted it to reach molly. they had saved people with this hope. they had saved nations. they had saved the world. but they ended up feeling like it hadn't even been worth anything.
how desperate would it feel, witnessing people who for some reason always saw good in you when they absolutely shouldn't, who made literal miracles out of nothing, who ended wars and fought gods and tricked the hags and freed cities from horrors beyond anyone's comprehension purely because they thought it was the right thing to do and also loved their friends this much, silently crying over a dead body they couldn't bring back to life? how desperate would it feel to realise that with all your knowledge about time you dedicated your life to and threw away any principles for, you can't undo this? no one can. some things are left to fate alone and this time it wasn't kind to them. no matter how much good they did, they still got slapped in the face.
and it was, i think, such a genuine moment of empathy. like, essek is the character who prefers to put up a facade and act distant and self-composed but this time he just. walked away unable to watch this. the could only say to fjord that it wasn't fair. even when he was caught off guard in nicodranas he was able to explain himself and his motives to an extent even though he was a nervous wreck whose extra important plan went to hell the second the only people he cared about appeared. this time he had nothing to elaborate on. it just wasn't fair. it wasn't fair his friends didn't get what they wanted the most. it wasn't fair he couldn't do anything to make it right.
it is such a sad and beautiful and even cathartic scene because it is about person who started a war that destroyed so many lives - and then met this ragtag group of weirdos who saw a lonely stand-offish guy and said "hey, let's be friends!" and didn't even wait for him to answer. he saw them being serious and calculated and he saw them being ridiculous and extremely stupid, he saw their mistrust to outsiders and their loyalty to each other, he made spells with them and paid a visit to their hot tub, he ate their stale pastries and drank their hot chocolate mixed with whiskey, he was welcomed amongst them and in their wonderful home, both in xhorhas before they even found out what he had done and in the tower when they already knew - and then, he saw them mourning their loss, defeated and helpless, and he, a person who believed there were things more important than whole nations, let alone just one life, couldn't help but share the pain they felt. a pure display of compassion from someone who detached himself from it, who didn't believe he could grow into a better person capable of it again, but became one nonetheless without even realising it
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theaceace · 20 days
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imagining a world in which Simon agreed to go with Edwin and try to escape hell, imagining Simon developing an immediate and very inadvisable crush on the cute guy that just threw a grenade at a demon and Edwin's reaction to that, imagining the reaction of Charles Overprotective Rowland when he finds out that the guy Edwin insists on dragging along with them is one of the guys that sacrificed him to a demon in the first place, imagining the Night Nurse's face when three dead boys pop back through the door instead of two
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sonknuxadow · 4 months
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this is probably an unpopular opinion with the amount of "everyone is married with kids" type future aus people make for sonic characters but i cannot see sonic getting married or having a kid ever. if he did somehow end up with a kid hed be the worlds first transmasc absent father or however the joke goes
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flareboi · 2 months
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what if purple never calls him dad
#what if the word ‘dad’ is something purple doesn’t like.#what if it carries a bad connotation for them and a bitter reminder for mango.#family doesnt always have to look like one thing yknow? i dont think those two would have a traditional dynamic in that way#maybe purple does consider him their parent. they just dont call him ‘dad’ unless its in third person#and theyre fine with that and so is he#king is his father figure yes but he’s also a mom. a big brother. a sister. their dynamic just isnt captured in purple calling him ‘dad’#maybe his name is the best way they can say it. the best way they can appreciate him#because for purple a father is someone who hurts you. someone who leaves you#i think ‘purple calls him dad on accident’ is a cute idea#but honestly it would make more sense if they called him mom on accident instead. or if it happened when they were afraid. not comfortable#(this is presuming orchid is his mother and navy his father based on the pronouns used in the react vids iirc)#because why would purple refer to someone he sees as a parent with the title of the one that presumably did not raise them?#and on mangos end#i think u can kinda tell who in this fandom has never lost a loved one in how they characterize him#guys. grief doesnt leave. it never leaves.#you just learn to live with it!!!#mango is not okay just because he has a new kid to take care of. i would know this my bio mom passed and i have a stepmother!!!#she does not fill that void and i do not expect her to because it cannot be filled. but she brings a lot new to ease the pain and is a#wonderful part of my life#the same thing here#mango will never ever just .. go back to how he was#he will never be the same since gold died. and thats okay#purple will not change that. they will merely add something new#their dynamic can be beautiful and nontraditional and a showing of how grief can change you#it doesnt have to be ‘replacement dad and replacement son’#its so much more#oke. tag rant over#fett rambles#ava#uhh should i tag the chars
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kaurwreck · 1 month
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I get why people like the idea of Chuuya with corruption scars, but I find it so casually devastating that he canonically only has (1) the scars from intensely serious wounds that have reached him despite his ability, which would include Shirase's betrayal and N's torture, and (2) the graphite in his wrist that evidences he had the same spitfire as a child that he has as an adult, that he is who he's always been even without his memories.
Especially in the context of Kafka Asagiri's response to an interviewer asking about change as a theme:
Interviewer: I believe one of Bungo Stray Dogs' themes is that people can change....
Asagiri: I want to correct this a bit because one of the themes of Bungo Stray Dogs I want to stress is that there are things you cannot change about people.... Because of that, there are certainly other ways that character can really shine and stand out. The struggle that many humans have to overcome within themselves is something that is told over and over again in works of literature. I find that it's something that a lot of people can relate to.
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