#but they'd have no idea what I was talking about so here we are. desperate times.
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(putting my very long, very personal ramble under a readmore so folks can avoid it) (this won't include any of my plans for going forward or for my writing but I'm not going anywhere so don't worry about that. love to you all.)
A little disclaimer: If you have zero context for what I'm talking about, apologies for not explaining in depth, but this post won't be relevant to you otherwise. All you really need to know is that it seems that Wilbur Soot is an abuser, and Shubble came forward and talked about it recently. He was not named, but from what she shared, I believe that was who she was talking about. I don't say this to speculate, and if you disagree, I'm not here to argue over it, but it's enough for me personally to not to want to support him indefinitely, save for Shubble explicitly saying she wasn't talking about him.
Additionally, these thoughts are some incredibly personal and self-centered rambling. It does not reflect where my priorities lie, with supporting Shelby for coming forward above all else, but other people have said that much better than I have, and this post is really just a place for me to vent some of my feelings.
I prided myself on not falling prey to “parasocial relationships.” I didn’t get invested in the personal lives of content creators, only in their creative works. I thought this protected me somehow.
I knew next to nothing about Wilbur Soot’s personal life, but I admired him deeply as a writer and empathized with him as an artist. I projected so heavily onto his character and did so for over three years. When I waited for his final dsmp stream, I felt panicked. Like my survival hinged on how he ended this story, and then he ended it in a way I could live with, and I thought I could go on loving this story and these characters for what they had been, no matter how messy the rest of the endings to follow were. His character was mine in so many ways. He had some of my problems and I gave him some of my own. I used him to process quite a bit. And now that part of myself is irrevocably tainted.
When the stuff came out about Dream, I was upset, but not betrayed. I never followed the creator and he existed only as a character to me. All I grieved then was the community his actions destroyed and most importantly the people he hurt. I planned to continue writing for the DSMP, even as I refused to follow any content involving him. It felt like a pause, not a full stop, while I ensured what I was doing did not show him any support. I also gave that character no pity and therefore the man behind him no pity, I had no personal investment in his character.
Now my response is visceral and bitter and I don’t know how to go on writing, because this character meant the world to me. I don’t know how to write about a character I truly love and see myself in, knowing the person who also loved and saw himself in that character, who created that character, has done horrible things. I don’t know how to write any of these other characters I have loved and cared for for over 3 years because he has poisoned them. All of it turns my stomach now and I feel so betrayed. The thought of his character is tainted because it’s connected to his voice and his face. I cannot separate the art from the artist both because it was the inclusion of the authorship within the story which affected me so strongly, and because there are things within the text that I look back on now and can only see that this person was always this way. I couldn’t sleep last night. I kept thinking of c!Wilbur’s line when he found out about exile, “he didn’t actually hit you though“ and his horror when c!Tommy responded that he had, that for some reason that was the turning point. The implication that it was only crossing that line, that particular type of violence, which made something wrong. Fucking disgusting.
I’ve tried to find another story before now. For the last few years, honestly, I’ve looked for something to latch onto the way I have with this one, but nothing feels the way this did. I know I’ve been clinging to something gone or at least mostly gone, both the community and the story, but I haven’t known how to let go when nothing makes me feel the same way, even when the feeling has faded and changed so much with time. This was never supposed to go on this long. Honestly, the reason I started posting mcyt stuff to my sideblog instead of my main was because I assumed I would get over it in a few weeks, delete the posts, and move on. Three years. 40 works. Over a million words. Just. Fuck.
I loved these characters so much and I’ve wrapped up my writing in them for so long it’s hard to separate the two. At this point, it feels like these characters are what allow me to write, separate from the main story, but a place where I could work things out for myself as a person and try new things as a writer. And I’ve tried so hard to feel the same way about the QSMP, but maybe it’s because we’re out of lockdown so I don't have time to watch much, or I’ve just changed more than I’ve thought, but I haven't gotten attached the way I did even when I look at the stories being built there and can see the heart in them, the storytelling, the care, just as much as the DSMP if not more. There’s no good reason for it, it just hasn’t locked into place the way this story had, having been the perfect storm of circumstances. The DSMP came to me during one of the worst years of my life, and I have loved it so much I miss that time even with all the bad it carried too.
And now this thing I have been holding onto can only make me angry, hit me with grief and disgust. Fuck, the only plan I’ve had for an original novel in years is a loose adaptation of TDDD. My senior thesis was largely a novella about two siblings with a complicated relationship, the older fatalistic, the younger brave to the point of ignorance. So even that original project has poison in it now. All of it, all of my fucking work, all of my growth as a writer, all of my writing for over three fucking years has poison in it.
I’ve felt lost as a writer for a long time and the only thing keeping me anchored was these characters. And I don’t know how to cut them away from myself and I don’t know how to cut him away from what’s left when his writing, his character, undeniably gave me so much of a spark. When I’m happy, I write. When I’m sad, I write. There's so much bad in the world right now, but I could always fall back on writing. And now my main means of escape is the grief. Far more than ever before. I know this too shall pass and all that, and this hasn’t actually stolen my ability to write, but right now it all feels so ruined. I don’t know how long it will take for me to be able to look back on what I’ve made and not feel like this. I'd maybe moved on in some ways, but not all. There was so much left I wanted to do.
If you’ve somehow read this far, know that I love this community with my whole heart. I never quite made friends with any of you, even as I wanted to, and it's felt too late for a long time now. My beloved mutuals (and followers that are mutuals in all but name) I have found so much joy with you, in what all of you have created. I wish I could hold onto that above all else, even if I’m not quite sure how. I’m not going anywhere, to be clear. I won’t delete my blog and fall off the face of the earth or anything. I still love what all of you create and care about, even if things have changed and our interests don’t always align anymore. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to detach this story from the creator, to love any of it the way I did or even love what I myself created again. I don’t really know why I’m writing this or if I’ll even post it except for the fact that you all are the only people who could understand.
Again, this was a deeply personal rant, not a statement about the situation as a whole, nor do I think this situation's impact on me takes an ounce of precedent over the person actually involved. The most important takeaway from this is what Shelby has shared, the importance of believing victims, to do what we can to protect ourselves from abuse that doesn’t seem obvious, and to look out for each other. Take care of yourselves, everyone.
#spilled penink#fuck i don't know what to tag this.#wilbur situation#abuse tw#ask to tag#I don't know about my current fics or what I plan to do going forward so don't read this looking for answers on that.#honestly i just had nowhere else to put this. this is something I would have ideally shared just with close friends#but they'd have no idea what I was talking about so here we are. desperate times.#sorry for the doom and gloom. i know there's been a lot of it as of late. please feel free to keep scrolling.#idc if people reblog. this is just. not the important thing right now yknow.#supporting shubble is all that really matters.
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Beach episode with loser!Mizu,,,, she's lurking under the shade while everyone else is out in the water having fun like the- well loser she is
i love beach episodes!!! wahhh!!!! (i know basically nothing about beach culture btw)
i think this will be the last loser!mizu for a while guys (a couple days, until i realize i can't write anythinng else, and crawl back to my pookie). I have so many unfinished drafts ugghh.
mdni :p
+audios !! okay enjoy.
You and Mizu have gone to a couple of "dates", which all were just hanging out at or around the aquarium. Oh, and you once came to watch one of her games, but that's it. It's a very confusing relationship in Mizu's eyes.
For a while she already thought you two were dating, but Akemi quickly educated her on the wonderful world of talking stages. That day, Mizu decided that talking stages were her worst enemies. How are you not her girlfriend yet? It's not fair.
Akemi and Taigen only seen you once, and they were both intoxicated, and Ringo hasn't even met you, only in passing, so it's obvious they'd want to meet the person their grumpy friend is spending most of her time with. So Akemi arranges a beach hangout, and starts bugging Mizu about bringing you along, with "Come onnn, don't you wanna see her in a bikini?" typa comments.
Mizu, even though the last time you hung out with Akemi and Taigen it turned out very much embarassing to her, gives in after a while.
After a brief text exchange which Mizu floods with horrible memes, just to ease her own anxiety, you say yes, and now here we are.
Mizu is setting up her little fortress of peace in the sand, which is a big, soft blanket with a parasol guarding her from the sun. Her usual shades sit on her nosebridge. Her choice of swimwear is made of a pair of dark blue swimming trunks with rubber ducks all over it, and a bikini top that looked eerily like her usual sports bra. You on the other hand were...running late.
Ringo sat down next to her and offered her a muffin from the big bag he packed full of food, while Akemi and Taigen started to splash eachother in the water.
"You're more quiet than usual." Ringo comments with a slight smile, munching on a muffin himself. Mizu sighs and takes a bite of hers.
"It's stressful." She says with a shrug. "We're close, very close...but somehow not close enough. Like...how do you ask someone to be your girlfriend?" Mizu says to her bestfriend, looking up at the big guy from under her shades.
Ringo purses his lips as she stares ahead, thinking about it. "Say..."Will you be my girlfriend?" I think that would work." Mizu facepalms.
"Well, yeah, obviously, dumbass." She says, throwing her head back with a groan. "But the other stuff. Like...atmospehere, timing, mood...and how do I know she likes me enough to make that step?" She rambles. "It's obvious I like her, I told her I loved her once! What if she thinks I'm desperate? I mean, yeah I am...but I don't want her to know."
Ringo looks back at her, like she just confused his little brain even more, which she did. "Then wait for her to ask?" He suggest, and before Mizu could answer and tell him that it would be a terrible idea, because what if you never ask, you arrive, almost on cue.
You are...indeed wearing a bikini. And Jesus Christ, Mizu's breathing almost stops alltogether. Yeah, she slept with you once, and saw more intimate parts of your body than your belly button and cleavage, but this is different. You have your heart shaped sunglasses covering your eyes. She remembers those glasses, and she can feel her stomach twist in a not-so-bad way. She gives you sublte little wave as you approach, but before you could get to her, Ringo raids you.
"Woah, hey! I'm Ringo! You must've heard a lot about me from Mizu, since I'm her number one friend! I'm sure we'll get along great!" He chirps excitedly. Mizu needs to hold back the urge to burry herself in the sand and never come out. But to her surprise, you just laugh.
"How charming! Hey to you too, Ringo." You shake his nub. Mizu noticed that you find a lot of things cute and charming that Mizu would find cringe or lame. Maybe because you're more easy going. You walked to Mizu's little fortress, and offered her a smile. "And hey to you, hermit." You chuckled, kneeling on her blanket. Miz could feel her heartbeat fasten, having you so close. She should've gotten used to it by now, but she was convinced she never will.
"Hey." She said with a small, almost unnoticalbe smile. "You look...good." She complimented you, her gaze falling to your breasts for half a second, but her shades were keeping her safe.
"Thanks. Got this one just a week ago." You say, slightly pulling at you bikini top's strap. "You don't look halfbad yourself." You say playfully, then grab a beachball from the mountain of bags placed next to the blanket. "You know how to play?" You look at Ringo, then back at her. Ringo nods enthuistacally, and Mizu shrugs. Of course she knows how to play. She is in the school's basketball team, she is very good at ball games, but she needs to stay humble. That's hot, right?
"We need one more player though to make it even." You say, and just like that, as if smelling a challenge, Taigen appears.
"Well, lucky for you," He starts, putting his fist on his chest. "The champion has arrived." Mizu rolls her eyes, and you just gasp dramatically. Akemi sits down on the blanket. "You go ahead, I'll be the judge I guess."
And with that, the match if the decade started. You were on a team with Taigen, and Mizu teamed up with Ringo. She wanted to be on the same team as you, but Taigen snatched you up first. That bastard.
"Don't think I'll go easy on you just because you're pretty." Mizu says, warming up her shoulders on the other side of the web.
"Complimenting me won't save your ass." You tease back with a wink.
"Wait, no, that's not what-" Mizu suddenly realized the meaning of her words, but before she could try and ramble herself out of it, the game started with Taigen serving. It went all well, since Mizu could block all of Taigen's hits, but when you were the one sending the ball her way? The woman froze.
Everyime you jumped up to hit the ball, your whole body bounced, especially that part that she couldn't take her eyes off of. The little victory punch you gave to the air after you scored, the way your hair stuck to your forehead because you started sweating, and the way you threw yourself at the ground to catch the ball last minute, making your soft body squish against the sand...it mesmerized Mizu.
It was obvious you took the game seriously, but sadly not as seriously as Taigen, who basically started beating his chest like a gorilla when he scored. The strategy was simple: Ringo would take your hits, and Mizu would block and eliminate Taigen's. It all went jolly for a good while of the game, until your bikini top slipped, revealing your underboob. You though nobody noticed, so you quickly pulled it back into place, But someone did notice. And that someone couldn't focus on anything else during the rest of the game.
The results came out with you and Taigen on top, but only by two points. It was infuriating as hell to watch Taigen give you a double high five, but you looked happy, and that made Mizu content. She was watching the scene, until Ringo nudged her.
"Now. Mood, and uh...vibe! All good. Do it now." He tried to whisper, but he was really excited. It took Mizu a moment to realize what he was talking about, and when she did, she gave him a determined nod. She marched to you, her cheeks burning, and a frown on her face that could be described as angry, but it was just a sign of her taking this seriously.
"You did good." She says, lifting her shades off her face, putting them up into her hair.
"Thanks. You two weren't bad either. You just decided to play against champions." You shrug playfully.
"So uh...I saw an ice cream booth over there. I could buy you one as a winning prize, or something." She offers, shoving one of her hands into the pocket of her swimming trunks. Her voice came out breathy, on one part from just finishing the game, and on the other...well...
"Free ice cream? Hell yeah!" You say enthusiastically, and get going. Mizu just follows you. Taigen stays there, looking confused for a second.
You stand there, staring at the different flavours of ice cream. "Mmm...I think I'll go with mint chocolate chip." You say, tilting your head, still considering it. "Or bubblegum!"
"You could get both." Mizu shrugs. You're very particular about your icecream, it seems. It's good to know. If she manages to score another date with you, she'll bring you to a pastry shop instead of an aquarium.
"Really? Awsome!" You celebrate to yourself. "What are you getting?" You ask, leaning closer to her. Mizu gulps.
"I'll just...have vanilla." She says, doing her damn best not to look at your lips that are so close. She whishes she could be on that level with you where casual kisses are a thing.
"Vanilla? Well that's a little...boring." You chuckle. "I think you'd like coconut." You say, pointing at the similar colored ice cream. The fact that you're comfortable enough to decide what could she like is so...so...
"Yeah, sure." Mizu shrugs again. She pays for the icecream, but doesn't start walking back to the others yet. "Here," She starts walking towards the part of the shore where big rocks could give some privacy. You follow her, kitty-licking your ice cream. That movement reminds her---fuck. Why is she acting like a hormone filled twelve year old?
As she stares at you while walking, you're staring at the water. She follows your gaze, and starts watching the water too. The waves and the foam splash against the sky, and the clouds hover above, now lightly pink and orange tinted from the sun almost setting.
Suddenly, you point at the sand: you spotted a jellyfish that got thrown out by the water. "Look!" You rush to it, and crouch down by it's side. "Do you think it's still alive. It's still wet."
"Yeah, like me when I'm near you." is what Mizu wants to say, but instead she just follows you. "I'dunno." You seem to worry about the jellyfish, which is...sweet. It's just a jellyfish to Mizu, but to you? It's already named Fred and has a twelve page backstory. Mizu, in an attemt to not let your mood get ruined, takes off her sunglasses, and places them on the jellyfish.
"Damn. I think he's still alive, he seems pretty fresh to me. Drippy, even." Mizu snorts, and you push her, making her land on her butt as you laugh with her.
"Oh my god...you're horrible." You say, your beautiful smile returning. Even if she landed on her ass, a win is a win. Mizu takes back her shades and throws the jellyfish back in the water.
Mizu then takes a deep breath. She looks at you, her blue eyes shining in the orange-ish light. She steps closer, and lightly takes your hand. She wants to make it seem like it's a casual thing, but her heart is drumming against her ribcage. She then pushes her already melting icecream close to your lips. "Wanna taste?" She ask.
You chuckle. She's adorable. You lean closer, and take a big lick off her treat. You notice that the white ice cream has already melted to her hand. You lightly take her wrist. "You're so messy." You say teasingly and start licking the ice cream off her fingers. Mizu's breath hitches as she watches your tongue work on her skin, licking her lips unconsciously.
"You're so fucking beautiful like that." She blurts out, her other hand coming up to gently cup your cheek.
You smile up at her, licking up the cone. That was the greenlight you needed. You move your head up, and push your lips against her. You taste like coconut, as she opens her lips, inviting in your tongue. Her hand lands on your hips, leading you more behind a bigger rock, away from the all the prying eyes. She lightly grips the soft tissue on your hips, her fingers cautiously wandering towards your ass as you devour her lips. She slowly pushes you against the rock. You already ate your ice cream, and her's is melted completely, it's soggy cone laying alone in the sand as her hands move up to cup your breasts.
"I wanted to do this ever since that stupid match..." She murmurs into the kiss, her finger's finding your nipples through your bikini top.
You grin against her lips, slowly exchanging positions until her back is against the rock. You run your finger's along her skin, feeling up the exposed muscles. Her abs basically guided your hand along to trace their shape, then guided your hand downwards. You undid her swimming trunks and got on your knees before her.
Mizu looks at you, almost hypnotized by how good you look on your knees. Before she could react, you pull her trunks down, and teasingly lick her folds. Mizu pushes her palm against her lips to silence the loud groan that wanted to escape her lips. You chuckled against her flesh, closing your eyes as you started to do your work. Mizu's long, slender finger's got lost in your hair, keeping your head in place as she chewed on the inside of her cheek to hold back her noise.
She mumbles you name over and over, her hips lightly bucking into your mouth. "F-Fuck...fuck, I love you..." She blurts out in a half moan, half whine. Is it the best time to say it? Not really. But is that stopping her? No. She is too filled with passion and her feelings are bubbling over the edge. "I have loved you...f-for so long...p-please..." She whines silently. "I...I-I want you t'be mine..so damn bad...oh God..."
You look up at her, her juices dripping down your chin. You then suddenly stick out your tongue, pushing it inside her walls. Mizu bites into her palm to keep quiet.
"You're so fucking cute..." You mumble into her, repeatedly pulling and pushing your tongue in and out. Your nose rubs against her clit, making it hard to keep standing.
"M'gonna cum...f-fuck, keep going..." Mizu groans, bucking her hips even more into your mouth.
You can feel her walls clench around your tongue as she reaches her climax, holding your mouth open so her juices basically slip down your throat withouth swallowing. After she comes down from her high, you pull away, wiping your lips with the back of her hand, pulling her swimming trunks back into place. You get up from your kneeling position and give her a sloppy kiss.
"D'ya mean it?" You murmur into the kiss, your arms wrapping around her neck.
Mizu's lost in the kiss. She doesn't even think about the fact that she should be freaking out right now. "Meant every fucking word...I want to be your girlfriend." She says, her hands hugging your waist.
And with that...Mizu returned home that day a taken woman. She listened to the playlists she made you (psst!), and somehow heard every song in a new light.
#loser mizu#blue eye samurai#bes x reader#blue eye samurai mizu#blue eye samurai x reader#mizu x reader#mizu fanfic#fanfiction#bes smut#smut#bes mizu#ai audio#bes audio#blue eye samurai audio#lesbian
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Hello! I saw you are taking requests and wanted to send one in!
Could you do one with Alastor and reader where the reader sometimes snorts when they laugh? They feel a little embarrassed by it whenever it happens and try to cover it up by calming themselves down.
Thank you for taking the time to read this, and make sure to hydrate!
Alastor x Reader: A reader who snorts sometimes when they laugh (Headcanons)
How it would start out , like when Alastor figures this little detail about them
Let's say (Name) was a bit upset today, reason being unknown. But, Alastor being the best boyfriend (Friend? Husband? Idk.) He checks on them :)
"Darling, what's bothering you?"
"..I don't really wanna talk about it right now, Al.." They said as they nestled further into the blankets surrounding them.
"That's quite alright with me," He paused before asking, "My dear, how about we go out for a little bit? That'll surely turn your frown," He reached down and stretched (Name)'s mouth upwards, forming a make-shift smile. "upside-down! Hm?" (Name) giggled before rising up and out of bed.
"Alright, fine"
"Lovely." He led the way, walking out of the hotel. Alastor stopped in a secluded area, far away from anyone. "Here we are!"
They both sat down, chatting away and such. He figured one way to cheer you up a bit was with laughter, so he cracked some jokes here and there, and after a bit they were laughing so hard, they'd release a few snorts. Once (Name) realized what they did, they tried to cover it up with coughing. Alastor definitely noticed, but chose to ignore it.
He genuinely finds it cute 😭 I think Alastor is the type of person to enjoy little details about someone. Like for example, Snorting when Laughing, Getting lost in a conversation that they end up talking too much, things like that :)
When he catches (Name) laughing for a bit much, he sits there and observes. Whether with a group of people or just the two of them, he goes quiet and once they do 'the thing' then desperately try to cover up, his smile just widens in admiration ヽ(≧∀≦)ﾉ
(A/N: I didn't have any ideas on how to write this :(
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Zoom In.
Muggle AU, professor of 18C literature and poetry Draco, celebrity Harry ✨️
~
Violet was the first to log in - again. In the minutes before class began - in the "waiting room" - while she stared at her blank screen, it felt like the only real few moments she truly had to herself.
She spent all those moments, like so many others, thinking about Professor Malfoy.
To every single straight girl, and the singular gay guy, in class, Professor Malfoy was prime wank material. Violet hadn't known her classmates to be as desperate for a good word on their assignments from any other professor. To think homework would feature so high on the to-do lists of some of the biggest lunkheads she knew...there was definitely something about him, that Professor Malfoy.
She could see the appeal. The eerily pale eyes, hair, and skin made to appear warmer by the fluffy jumpers - all in elegant shades of scarlet, burgundy, emerald, wine, golden yellow - he wore over crisply ironed button-downs and tailored trousers; the way he used his hands when he talked, long fingers like a pianist's; the slim golden spectacles he was constantly misplacing on his own head, the rich precision with which he pronounced the olde names and subjects that he spoke of - it was very difficult not to admire Professor Malfoy.
All of that, but nobody really knew much about him outside of uni.
They'd switched to virtual classes a week ago; hurrah for the new pandemic. The idea that she didn't have to sit in class with her tittering classmates, a stray cough sounding now and again, made Violet automatically sit up straighter and smile, just as the little boxes on her screen began popping into life.
"Aaaayyyy!"
"Tell me we don't need to have our faces on display."
"So, yes, before anyone asks: this is a real lip ring. An actual piercing. Yeah, I'm not blowing you, Greg, sod off."
"Is Professor Malfoy on?"
"No, I don't see him here yet. Did he grade your essay?"
"Yo, can someone please tell me how to turn this camera off, I am smashed out my--"
"Click on the camera icon, Bryan--"
"It's not even noon, what d'you mean "smashed"?
"No, you've turned off your mic. No, we cannot hear you screaming."
"First icon on the bottom left," Violet said, rolling her eyes.
And then Professor Malfoy was in class.
There was a beat of silence before everyone called out greetings, a chaotic round of cheerful hello's that nobody could quite make sense of. Least of all Professor Malfoy.
He was peering into his screen, his slim nose scrunched.
"All right, so I can see me. Can you?"
Cacophonic confirmations.
"Okay, so nobody can see or hear me. Right."
More shrill reassurances. One loud beer-belch.
"Damn it all to hell, I knew this would happen, I told him that I'll need--"
"We can see you!" shrieked Preiti.
"We can hear you!" Nora bellowed.
But Professor Malfoy was already twisting around in his chair, scowling heavily, and screaming, "OY! COME IN HERE, YOU MISERABLE WANKER!"
Violet, along with her classmates, just stared in mystified silence. The professor never spoke like that. He ticked them off if they did.
A tall figure in a too big hoodie appeared suddenly, hissing back at Professor Malfoy. There was a golden lion printed on the maroon jacket. The hood was drawn in close, and Violet could just barely make out the light from the computer screen glinting off a pair of round glasses, on which a shaggy fringe of dark hair fell.
"You need to turn the volume up. Git," said the stranger. "Your camera's already on."
"I hate technology," Professor Malfoy seethed.
"You hate so much else. I'm getting fish and chips." The man was already walking off.
"I want mushy peas too, with mine."
"What kind of sick bastard." The room door was shut with a thud.
"Sorry about all that. We are now officially in session," Professor Malfoy said, smiling and restoring his glasses upon his nose. "Do you all have--?"
There was a muffled shout from somewhere behind the professor. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Professor Malfoy called back, "No. No, I don't want a curry dipping sauce."
There was more muffled yelling.
"Harry, get out right now!" shrieked Professor Malfoy, and Violet, along with the others, just ogled.
Malfoy sighed. "Sorry 'bout that. Just my idiot husband."
"You're married?!" Violet had asked before she could stop herself.
Professor Malfoy sighed, flipping open a thick, spiral bound folder. "Yes. You've heard of Harry Potter, I'm sure. He's the poor idiot I married."
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This is such a silly and stupid idea but I am desperate for a Yandere x Reader where the Yandere is this extremely paranoid/depressed fuck who thinks the world is diseased and the only way for it to get clean is to get rid of all human life on it, they are willing to kill for a "better cause" and have absolutely no mercy...and then there is Reader (the only person they don't hate entirely), who is into Eurodance, is extremely positive and is a complete fashion disaster who believes it is good in everything and everyone.
This is very much based on my recent obsession with Planet of the Bass but let's not talk about it lol.
I just want these two completely opposite bitches to try and teach each other their points of view while one slowly falls in love with the other
[Here's a blurbo I had in limbo with a similar plot. Yan is indeed depressed/hates the world and Reader's moreso into rave because I dunno anything about Eurodance. Tw: themes of suicide]
This is it. Their final night alive.
They'd done all they needed. Returned a book collecting dust on their desk. Disposed of the tools used on corpses in some other lake to keep their name from more attention. It's crazy how in their last moments all that mattered was the thoughts and options of those who lead them to this fate. How disgusting. They did their victims a favor by leaving them nameless. The murky waters below reflect a dread known long before the plunge. There is nothing waiting for them. Not here. Not on the other side.
Their final night alive. Or so it would have been.
Right as they climbed on the bridge's ledge, back facing the sky, small beads of light rose from the hill adjacent. The tiny orbs merge into separate distinct figures on the horizon. Wheeling onto the scene, the group ride with vehicles unusual for the terrain. Rollerskates, skateboards, electric scooters. They wear some matter of bright clothing with glowsticks and lights dangling from their person in flashy jewelry and attached to headphones they wore. They all seemed to be equipped with some type of earwear and dancing to their own beat while still moving as one.
The group stop at the other side of the road, all oblivious to the shadow lurking across the way. They glared - climbing down from the ledge and sitting upon it, seething. The group may not notice them now, but they'd surely catch on at most inconvenient time. It would seem their presence wasn't completely ignored as one head turns their way. One of the figures wearing skates waves, pointing to one of the many necklaces around their neck. The shadow avoids their smile, praying they get the message.
They don't.
Sparkling wheels crunch over gravel. "Hey."
Silence.
They remove their headphones. "Hey!"
Nothing. Persisting, the person wheels over to the railing, leaning against it as they breath in the salty air. "Long drop down. Won't be quick."
As if that would deter them.
"I won't get on your case. We've all been there at some point. Life sucks, and then you did. Feels like your taking control by going out on your own terms, but you won't and may never will. That's why it's important to enjoy the little things. It's why I hang out with those guys. We get together every once and a while. Party on wheels as some of us call it. Lots of fun."
The party-goer takes off their headphones and places their music player on the railing. "This is what I listen to when I'm down. Maybe it can help you. Maybe not - but I'd like you to return it some day. My name is Y/n, by the way. Just so you know when we meet again."
You take off your necklace and offer it to them. They take it - just to get you to leave them alone. You solemnly wave again, returning to your group and taking over the mantle of carrying the portable speaker another brought with them. You take their arm, balancing skillfully on your wheels as you dance the fleeting night away with no care of the coming dawn.
Your type were the worse of all. Giving them more tasks to complete before they departed from this miserable world. They hated carrying the duties given by others on their shoulders so much they couldn't pass on, but looking at your smiling face, sorting through the music that got you through the toughest - they couldn't see themselves from fulfilling their end of the deal you set anywhere in the near future.
For once in their life living in someone's else's shadow didn't seem so bad.
#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere scenarios#yandere insert#yandere blurb#yandere headcanons#yandere#yandere oc#yandere drabble#tw yandere
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Part three! (here are parts one and two) This one is a bit more Vox-heavy than the others, but that's because I couldn't think of any other things, they'd have issues over once they worked through the things mentioned in the first two parts. So, picking up where we left off.
A large portion of the city got to see Vox freaking out and yelling at Alastor, demanding to know who his supposed rival is and why they got to make demands of him. One-half of the viewers are convinced that Alastor must have done something because Vox would never be upset that he's not a rival. Now, he clearly just wants to know who it is, so he can hold them against Alastor. The other half read the room a bit better and insisted that no, Vox is actually just upset that he's been replaced. It starts several wars within the Vees fandom, which usually Velvette would be angry about, but honestly, she's having too much fun watching it. If it starts really hurting them, she'll do something but for now, she is just watching the chaos, trying to get a feel for it.
But no matter what side they’re on, they all want to know who the person Alastor was talking to on the radio was, and who, if Vox was to be believed, got to negotiate the terms of his forgiveness with Alastor.
But then Vox just shows up in person, insisting that he's there to help. Literally everyone knows he's not, but they can't do much about it, because he does have a live stream going. With a lot of annoyance, they give him a tour. He tries to bribe several people to tell him who the rival is. No one does. They just roll their eyes.
RadioApple has mixed feelings about it. On one hand, Alastor loves attention. He thrives on it. On the other hand, this really isn't anyone's business and he'd prefer if it had never gotten out. Lucifer is in a similar boat. They talk about it, deciding that they simply aren't going to address this. It's not the greatest idea but they know that feeding into it will just make it worse. So, Vox has doubled the doubt of drones he's got watching the hotel, and now they have people showing up to try and scope them out. Thankfully after kicking a few of them out and wrecking the drones they get the point across.
Meanwhile, after dealing with it a bit, RadioApple decides that it'll be funny to mess with people. So, they have Lucifer use a voice filter and do Al's radio show. They have Alastor, sans fillters, answer the phone when the sins call Lucifer. They enjoy the sheer chaos, and no one puts the pieces together, because the sins aren't talking to sinners, and the sinners can't even get to the other sins. Alastor in particular enjoys watching people fail around like a bunch of headless chickens trying to figure it all out. But they also just never mention it again, which just makes everything worse because they now have no leads whatsoever at all and everyone is just wondering if maybe Alastor was just screwing with them.
Only he definitely seems to be in a better mood and refers to whoever this person is sometimes. Eventually everyone (-vox) accepts that they're not getting answers. and then the world rival changes into a partner, and everything loses their mind because WHAT? Surely you don't mean the same mysterious rival right? No? You do? Okay well, what does that mean?
People are finally desperate enough to try to get information out of the others, which is a mistake because the others make it to mess with them. So, there's a lot of ‘Oh the Roach King? Yes, his Raoch Queen is wonderful’ or ‘Oh Strawberry Pimp’s latest commitment, yeah they hot together’ and the like.
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N Sewell's Big Secret - A Theory
So, I've been replaying N's route lately and an epiphany came to me last night when I was playing the end of Book 3.
It's in Book 2 I believe that you can ask Nate if he's ever killed someone while talking to him about how old he is. He frowns for a minute and says, "Not with my own hands, no."
Weird, right? After what we see in the mirror at the carnival, when he says he got turned at sea, it's clear that the image in the mirror was of that time right after he got turned. He's covered in blood, surrounded by bodies while wearing a British Royal Navy uniform.
Originally, since Falk declared N Not Guilty, I assumed that perhaps N had come to terms with the reaction they had to being a newly turned vampire. I thought maybe they'd lost control and slaughtered the men of the ship, or perhaps they'd been attacked and defended themself. A sort of Jekyll + Hyde situation where N doesn't consider their frenzied state to be truly Them.
BOOK 3 SPOILERS AHEAD
And then we get into Book 3, and it's really clear that N has not been to therapy enough to not blame themself if they'd killed that many people. They're overprotective and selfless to the point of self sacrifice for the slightest inconvenience and they blame themself for any little inconvenience that befalls MC. Clearly, they are not well-adjusted enough to separate something that happened in desperation and fear from who they truly are.
This put me on the back foot, trying to figure out what that could mean. If you are dating N, they tell you about their brother, M*lton, who was killed by vampires. They tell you about joining the Navy to seek revenge or to at least find out what happened to their brother. Makes sense.
The moment that made my theory CLICK in my head happens at the end of the book, if you ignore Rebecca's idea and go alone to the auction.
So, you get captured and the auctioneer person tries to sell you off for your blood. Just like the other 3 routes, N will come to rescue you at the auction, and they have a brief spat with someone in the audience who tries to outbid them.
[ID included on screenshot.]
This moment I originally thought was a pheromone thing. It doesn't seem like just a threat, as Nate seems visibly shaken and weakened by whatever it is he did. Also, the strange way the supernatural responds seems to suggest some kind of influence.
And then it hit me --- "Not with my own hands, no."
N's power is some kind of mind control / suggestion ability.
They never killed anyone with their own hands because they told the pirates / vampires to kill each other or kill themselves.
The theme of control comes up several times in N's route. N prides themself on being very in control of their body and their emotions, keeps their wants hidden and their true feelings locked firmly away beyond anything that is pleasant or kind. It makes me wonder if, aside from being able to influence people on command, if they can accidentally influence people when they get too emotional.
I also think it might require touch to really make the power work. They constantly keep their hands in their pockets and, while this is a normal enough idle motion, the fact that they touched the supernatural here and often put their hands in their pockets / withdraw touch when having a disagreement with someone suggests it might have something to do with it.
The amount of trust that UB must have in N when they have a power like that is enormous. It also sheds new light on the arguments that N and A often get into, as it seems that if N really wanted to, they could get their way every time via this weird power.
It also sheds new light on Rebecca's concern for N and MC. The assumption that MC is immune to this ability is there, but there's always the chance that they aren't, and Rebecca being worried about N forcing MC into doing things via suggestion seems to be very real.
It also makes me wonder if N has ever tested out whether their suggestion works on MC, or if they've thought about it with something small. Makes me wonder if we are entirely immune or if there's going to be some caveat like with M and their pheromones causing MC pain.
EITHER WAY, I feel like I figured it out. I'm losing my mind with the implications of it all.
#twc#the wayhaven chronicles#twc n#twc n sewell#nathaniel sewell#natalie sewell#twc nate#twc nat#twc lore
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one thing about me is i EXCEL at stupid ideas so! here is a Stupid Ask for your daily dopamine dosage.
post-s3, roy attempts to be A Good Coach and implements team bonding activities such as sunday board game nights. this has the unforeseen consequence of walking into the locker room monday morning to find moe and colin arguing over whether monopoly is True Capitalist Propaganda while sam sneaks jamie $200 from the bank to get out of jail next week.
This. This actually matches up well with a thing I introduce at the end of my post-season fic.
This bit is not from the post-season fic, but there are definitely some plot points I'm cribbing from it. Here have some nonsense:
There were pros and cons to the new wellness initiative in the locker room.
And 'Wellness Initiative' was the phrase they were using. Not 'show-and-tell', no matter how many times Trent suggested it. Although with how many goddamn talent shows Roy had been forced to sit through in the past weeks, the former-journo might have been onto something. For a team full of professional footballers, a lot of them had found the time to sharpen other talents.
The idea had been simple: at least once a week, they were going to sit around as a team, and they'd take turns picking a topic that had nothing to do with football.
'Share-and-tell' Beard had called it, and Roy had growled until Higgins erased the name from the whiteboard.
Books, movies, whatever song they had bleeding through their headphones in the weight room, Roy didn't care. For one hour a week, they were going to...God help him...bond as a team. Share. Communicate. Maintain the resplendent inter-team hivemind bullshit that got them so close to winning the whole damn thing the year before.
Even if Moe's lockpicking demonstration was a disturbing hour of his life that he'd never get back.
But keeping the team functioning as a team was only half of it. Truth of the matter was, it helped the little idiots to have an outlet, something to get them out of their heads for a bit so that Roy didn't end up hugging a crying player in the boot room every other week. Four times had been enough, thanks.
Colin, the second-time boot room offender, had cocked his head like a Welsh corgi and asked, "Would it be all right if I brought my piano?"
"The one that weighs 800 kilos and broke your mother's floorboards?"
The next week Colin showed up with a new electronic keyboard that did not weigh as much as a baby rhino. He spent his hour taking pop song requests.
"Do I have to do a book report?" Jamie asked defensively when his turn came around. The three weeks before his turn had gone to fucking book reports. Even Roy was desperate for a change up. When he reassured Jamie that he only had to talk about books if he'd actually read a book he fucking liked, the relief on the number-one little idiot's face had been immense.
Jamie showed up for his turn with playing cards, a case of poker chips, and a bouquet of roses. The lads spent the hour shouting about cheating, and after a surprisingly aggressive run of bluffs and flushes, Dani Rojas walked away with all the flowers.
While Roy was distracted by Dani, who lamented that now he would need to buy a florero for his flowers, and Jamie, who thought Roy's water bottle would make an excellent vase in the meantime, he completely missed the gleam in Sam's eye as the unassuming player shuffled the card decks back in order.
---
Sam Obisanya was a fucking menace. One day Roy would retain this information.
Most days it was easy to forget. He had a calming effect on Jamie, who was less prone to biting when Sam was around. This made Jamie quieter, which made Isaac and Colin and Dani quieter, which gave the overall impression that things were peaceful in the locker room.
What Roy always forgot to add to the equation was that Jamie had the opposite effect on Sam, who on a normal day would never be found smiling like a post-canary cat while monopoly cards flew around the locker room like projectile weapons.
"I'm not paying you rent again, Cockburn!" Colin shouted.
"You keep landing on my square. It's not my fault you're bad at dice!"
"Bruv, quit throwing shit. It's my turn and I almost got all the railroads."
"The railroads are statistically the worst spaces to own; you know this, yes?"
"War is inevitable in a system where capitalism is dominant," Moe pointed out from where he sat lotus-style on the bench, abstaining from participating in the 'game of the exploiters.'
"Oi, Sam," Jamie whispered, sitting up a bit to tug at the edge of the other player's jumper. "While they're fightin', can you get me out of jail?"
Sam nodded at Dani, who flicked his hand in a way that spoke volumes on how he'd thrashed the team at poker. Two beige notes appeared in Sam's hand, and just as quickly disappeared into the collar of Jamie's shirt.
"Cheers," Jamie thanked him. He settled his head back down into Sam's lap, making himself cozy like a spoiled, cheating cat. "Never was any good at Monopoly."
Sam's smile was angelic, but his eyes glinted in a way that boded horribly for Roy's heart pressure. "Next time I can bring Settlers of Catan. Or Risk."
"Ooh. Risk. Should we team-up?"
Who knew Sam's talent would be putting Roy Kent in an early grave?
#writing snippet#loosely related to#[redacted title] post season three fic#ask box is always open#thank you for indulging me#roy kent#jamie tartt#sam obisanya#afc richmond
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trust in me
pairing: lucifer/mammon (seperate) x gn!mc
genre: hurt/comfort
prompt: once again, @sparkbeast20 is a genius. original prompt here.
🫧 part one located here 🫧 part three located here 🫧 final located here 🫧 bonus chapter located here 🫧
You were at a loss.
It had been going on for two weeks today. All the brothers had been avoiding you, some more subtle than others. You'd assume it was just a weird funk. But everytime you tried to do something with them or simply chat, they'd have some excuse and scurry away.
You won't lie, it hurt.
They even skipped out on dinner, claiming they weren't hungry or had just eaten already.
You felt alienated again, just like your first few weeks living with them.
"Why so glum, MC?"
You jumped at the sudden presence, glancing back to meet Solomon's worried gaze. "Hey, Solomon", you greeted.
The sorcerer rose a brow and offered a small smile. "You didn't answer my question."
"They boys have been avoiding for the past two weeks", you began. Solomon watched as your expression saddened. "I don't know what I did, but eveytime I try to fix it, they suddenly have plans."
Solomon thought for a moment. "Think that nightmare effected them more than we assumed?"
You perked up immediately, brows furrowed in confusion.
"Nightmare? What are you talking about?"
Solomon looked at you in surprise. "Oh you weren't aware? Apparently they all had the same nightmare. By the looks of it, it left quite the impression."
"What nightmare?" You questioned. Then you shook your head. "Wait. How do you know anyway?"
"That would explain why Satan-" he began to mutter to himself.
"Solomon!" You cut him off. You were becoming desperate. The boys were your family. You can't stand them avoiding you like this.
Solomon cleared his throat. "Satan came to me a few days ago asking about certain connections with pacts and if they can be affected or affect dreams."
Solomon continued.
"When I asked why he wanted to know, he said he and the others shared a nightmare at the same time." he stated. He let out a small sigh. "Sadly, I couldn't be of any help. I've never heard nor experienced such a thing."
"Did he tell you the nightmare?" you questioned. Solomon nodded, giving you a hum in response. You bit your lip. "Can you tell me about it?"
Something passed in Solomon's expression. Worry? Concern? "I don't think that's a good idea."
You hesitate. It must be awful if Solomon was so hesitant to tell you. Usually he'd jump on the opportunity to spill what he knows about them, wanting to watch the outcome of the information he'd shared with you.
"Please? I need to know what's got them so shaken up."
Solomon sighed out. He gave you a sad smile. "Alright. But please tell me to stop if you get too upset."
You nodded. You felt bad because you wouldn't do that. You had to know what they were going through.
After Solomon explained, in great detail at that, the nightmare Satan had relayed to him, you felt like you were going to throw up.
No wonder they were avoiding you. It was then, your heart began to weigh heavy. The puzzle was piecing together.
It all made sense.
Lucifer suddenly taking on more work, locking himself away in his office. Mammon flinching everytime you told him to hand you something, even though it was never a command. Leviathan and Satan both tensing eveytime you called their names. Asmodeus never meeting your eyes anymore. Beelzebub speaking in cautious sentences whenever you ask him something, as of you'll suddenly slip a switch. Belphegor not speaking at all, only giving you a nod or shake of his head when you managed to get a sentence to him.
Now you know why.
So one by one, you weren't going to stop until you had fixed the situation.
It was only fitting the oldest be the first you make amends with. You stood in front of his office, your hand up ready to knock on the door.
With a deep breath, you knocked. "Lucifer? Can we talk?"
You received no answer. You knocked once more. Again, no response. This was normal for Leviathan. But Lucifer? Not at all.
You pushed the door, peeking inside. Lucifer sat at his desk, not even noticing you had entered his space.
"Lucifer?"
Your voice startled him. His gaze quickly shifted to you, his body slightly relaxing to see it wasn't someone unpleasant waltzing in. He cleared his throat slightly. "MC. I'm sorry, but now isn't the best time-"
"Lucifer please? Just for a moment?"
Your voice was soft and pleading. Damnit. He couldn't say no. Lucifer had no excuse this time. He gave a nod and you brightened.
Progress.
"What's on your mind?"
"I talked to Solomon", you began. If it wasn't for the fact you knew Lucifer better than anyone else, especially thanks to the pact, you would've missed how his body tensed. How he tried to hard to keep an nonchalant expression.
"That's good. Diavolo will be more than thrilled to hear you've been more social with others in the program-"
"I know about the nightmare, Lucifer." You saddened. "Why didn't you all talk to me? Do you...do you really think I'm that cruel?"
Your voice broke. You couldn't help it. You cherished them. You thought you told each other everything.
"Of course not, MC." Lucifer assured quickly. For a moment, he forgot his fear from the nightmare. He was blind to see how the actions of him and his brothers would affect you.
"Then why?" You questioned.
Lucifer froze. Why? Simply because of the power you held over them. How easily you could make them succumb. It was something he and his brothers had never faced.
And the reality shook him.
Yet, the longer he looked at your pained expression, the more he could see it was wrong. You were right. They should have talked to you.
"It was quite a scare, I won't lie", Lucifer said gently. "We've never had pacts with such strong connections like this."
You looked to the ground. "Do you want to be released from the pact?"
He just barely caught what you had said. "No!"
You jumped, startled at his sudden outburst. Lucifer cleared his throat. "No, MC. I have no problems with our pact."
"If it cause you guys such distress like this, I don't want to force you guys to remain in these pacts with me", you explained.
And you meant it. You never used your pacts to force the boys to do something. Yes, you did use them to scold them at times. but never just to 'torture' or belittle them.
Then. he gave you a smile. A genuine smile.
"MC...." he paused. "I can't think of anyone more worthy to have a pact with."
One amend down, six more to go.
You paced in front of Mammon's room. Out of all the brother's, he avoided you most. Though he didn't try to even hide it.
Get away from you as fast as possible. That's his thought process right now.
It had been a few hours since you'd made up with Lucifer. He'd mentioned Mammon was taken the situation hardest. Having a soft spot for the second born, you decided to take your shot with him next.
You heard shuffling on the other side of the hall, perking up to see who was coming your way. "Mammon!"
His name fell from your lips before you could stop yourself. Mammon looked up from his D.D.D in surprise. The moment his eyes laid on you, he took off in the other direction.
"Wait! Mammon stop!" The command was said before you could stop yourself. His pact mark on your wrist flickered, forcing Mammon to stop in place.
"Shit, no! Mammon", you said hurrying over in a panic. You moved in front of him and your heart fell to your stomach. The sight was heartbreaking. "I-I promise I didn't mean to."
Mammon stared back at you with wide eyes, a single tear running down his cheek. You reached up, but froze when he flinched away. You stepped back, quickly giving him his space.
"I'm so sorry. You can move."
The pact mark flickered again, just for a moment. releasing Mammon from the command. Though, he didn't move.
Mammon was terrified.
It's no secret he had it worse than the others. Constantly punished and ridiculed. But you were never like that with him. Mammon never had a worry or fear when it came to you.
Until now.
"Mammon, please."
Your voice broke. You could feel your own eyes began to tear up. You hated seeing Mammon like this. Especially because of you. It wasn't him.
"Did I do something, MC?"
The question broke your heart. You shook your head without hesitation. "Of course not! I just want to fix this."
Mammon shifted on his feet. "There's nothin' to fix."
You sighed out. "I know about the nightmare you all had."
Mammon tensed again. The nightmare. He'd had the same one almost every night. He even went to Belphegor for help but to no avail.
It always came back to that terrifying scene.
To that terrifying you.
Cautiously, you reached up to caress his cheek. The touch broke him from his mini trance. He almost melted into your warmth.
Oh how he'd missed this.
"Can I hug you, please?"
You knew Mammon desired physical comfort more than anything. The feel a loving touch. You would ask. You wouldn't force him. You wouldn't just take it. Especially with this situation going on.
He's always adored that trait about you.
Mammon gave a hesitated nod. You smiled.
Progress.
You wasted no time to pull Mammon close, letting him hide his face in your shoulder. He felt so stupid. He was your first. He knew you better than all of his brothers.
He knows you'd never do something so cruel.
"I'm sorry. MC..."
You shook your head. Your hands rubbed his back comfortably, feeling his body slowly begin to relax against yours. "Just continue to trust in me."
Two down, five to go.
~~~~~
obviously this is gonna have to be a three parter. it was much much longer than anticipated 😅 much much thanks to @sparkbeast20 for letting me expand on your idea again 💕 I hope it met your expectations
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me x reader#obey me x mc#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me lucifer x mc#lucifer x mc#mammon x mc#obey me mammon x mc
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thinking about Pat, Pran, and competition
Pat and Pran being competitive is a cornerstone of their relationship: they battle academically, they tease one another constantly, they fight physically, and they even officially get together through a bet. Pat and Pran have grown up with so much competition in their lives it makes sense that it would remain part of their dynamic, albeit with different contexts and meanings (i.e, as fun foreplay).
Pat and Pran were pitted against each other as kids, and then in university once again found themselves on opposite sides of a rivalry between their two faculties. However, the competition between the two of them has never involved feelings of genuine hatred. They maintained a fairly friendly relationship through childhood (they spoke to each other through tin cans, they were in a band and wrote a song together, etc.), and in university they pretty quickly started working together to keep their faculties peaceful and had limits on how far they'd go when fighting (Pat promised Pa he wouldn't physically hurt Pran). Pat says it himself in episode 6: despite being forced to compete against Pran every day of his life, he could never hate him. Competing was something they did - something they went through - together.
Competition is somewhat of a safe space for Pran and Pat - it is what they know, it is how they know to interact. Moreover, the first time they openly did not compete/worked together (writing and performing the song in high school), Pran was sent away. Pran says "When we are together [i.e., not competing], bad things happen." Competing is safer/more possible than not competing, because not competing is not sustainable with the families they have. This expresses itself in multiple ways: Pat and Pran pretending to fight at school, Pat and Pran not interacting at home, etc, but I wanted to highlight one particular aspect of their dynamic where this angle of competition is present:
Pran and Pat talk constantly about what they owe to each other. Pat owes Pran because he saved Pa all those years ago. When Pat tries to repay him, for example by offering to be the one who moves out, Pran refuses him. @dudeyuri wrote about this dynamic here: Pran uses competition and the excuse of "You Owe Me" to keep Pat in his life. He can't be Pat's friend because their families wouldn't allow that, and he definitely can't be his boyfriend, but Pran cares for Pat too much to lose him from his life completely. At the same time, Pran doesn't want to admit how desperately he wants Pat in his life (with Pran's feelings that would be too revealing), so he uses this competitive concept of owing something, of not being repaid satisfactorily, to keep Pat in his life. We talk about people inventing "intricate rituals" which give plausible deniability for things they ordinarily could not do or should not want in society (see this piece by artist Barbara Kruger) - Pat and Pran construct intricate rituals of debt to keep one another in their lives and intricate rituals of competition to allow themselves to pursue things they ordinarily would not dare to (e.g., using the Bet to flirt with each other). Speaking of the Bet, @telomeke-bbs (x) and @inventedfangirling (x, x) have has already written about how Pat utilized the competition of the Bet to get Pran comfortable with expressing his feelings and courting/being courted, and how he probably got the idea from Pran himself. Once again, competition is a safe space, a familiar space, for Pran and Pat.
This connects to another idea I've been tossing around: Pat and Pran are fluent in each other. They know each other very well and they rarely have to verbalize things explicitly to be understood (I talked about that with regards to the ep. 5 rooftop scene here). Pran and Pat's competitiveness is another example of this; to another couple, constant competition would take its toll (we see this a bit with Phupha and Tian in the Our Skyy 2 crossover episodes, for example), but to Pat and Pran, it's an important part of their puzzle. They've been living in this competitive dynamic since they were young, and they know each other's limits. For example, when Pran overhears Ming's comments and Pat is immediately concerned for him (see here), or how Pat and Pran keep their flirting with others (Ink and Wau) lighthearted despite trying to invoke jealousy in the other, and when it is too much, like when Pat gets hurt that Pran gave Wai his guitar to look after, the other realizes and reaches out to make amends. @thegayneurodivergentagenda points out a further example - despite competing and teasing Pran all the time, Pat always celebrates Pran's wins. The Bet, and how it utilizes competition, is another example of how well Pat and Pran know each other. Pat knows something competitive like that is the best way to get Pran engaged and feeling at ease.
Despite these shared experiences of competition, Pat and Pran have different relationships to competition. Both of them were pushed to be the best by their parents, but the differences in their parents and their personalities means they reacted to this upbringing and internalized it differently. Pran's parents wanted him to succeed (and to beat Pat), but in many ways this jived with his perfectionist, detail-oriented personality. Pat, on the other hand, was pushed to succeed by a father who had specific ideas of what success [and masculinity] looked like (fierce, excelling in contact sports and academic, a leader, etc.) which didn't necessarily suit Pat's personality (he is soft, clingy, loves to be cared for and to care for others, etc. - see @kattahj's thoughts here). We see how much easier it is, comparatively, for Pat to break free of his father's expectations and control: in the Our Skyy 2 episodes we learn that Ming is not very involved in Pat's life and Pat doesn't care what he thinks, and in episode 12 we saw how distant and strained Pat's relationship is with Ming (see @grapejuicegay's post on Pat and his father here, and @miscellar and others' here). Pran, meanwhile, stays closer to his mother and deeper under her influence for longer - in the Our Skyy 2 episodes he talks about how involved she is in his life (and there are a number of reasons for this, including his own personality, him being an only child, etc., as well as the similarities between his mother's dreams for him and his own).
For Pat, competing has never been something he was oriented towards naturally, so it is easier for him to remove the drive to win and the angst of competition to just enjoy the fun and sexiness of it all. Pat tells us he always lets his lover win - competing is, to him, a chance to demonstrate love. And how fitting for Pat that the clearest way he knows to show his love is to acquiesce - he's had the need to win hammered into his head from childhood, so of course to him the greatest thing you can do for someone you love is to give up the win. And of course that's how he interacts with people he loves, when the person he's loved since childhood (unknowingly or not) has been that person he was supposed to beat (see @transpat's beautiful post about Pat, Pran, and haq here).
For Pran, competition is encoded a bit deeper into his personality, so it retains a bit of an edge. And once again, that makes sense. Pran's personality is more suited to perfectionism and the drive to succeed, and Pran's been relying on competition as a way and a reason to keep his feelings for Pat at bay. Pat is delighted to be able to cede, while Pran is not at that point yet: he still has a desire to win, to prove himself as competent, which provides friction and hesitation in his relationship with Pat (we see him wrestling with this over the course of the Our Skyy 2 episodes). Despite this, competition remains something Pat and Pran do together, and Pran is slowly learning to let himself relax into it, to show vulnerability, especially as they begin to build themselves a life where competition is on their own terms.
Competition for Pat and Pran becomes a way to resolve or work through tensions (see Pat and Pran competing to see who can get Phupha's signature of approval on the architecture play first, which quickly becomes a cooperative effort - @miscellar details that here), or a way to demonstrate love and understanding of the other (see Pran challenging Pat to prove his love by publicly claiming him, something Pat has been longing to do - @dudeyuri details that here).
In @miscellar's post on episode 12, they defined Pat and Pran's ethos as "they don’t win or lose when they compete. they compete because they love each other and the result doesn’t matter," and in another post @miscellar says "competing is their love language and it’s how they kept each other in their lives, and in that sense competing is also a promise between them". For a long time, Pat and Pran had been competing but not really winning. While the competition forced by their parents did provide them with a powerful shared experience, it also kept them apart and unhappy. Pran and Pat kept up another competition of sorts, a You Owe Me type of relationship where they would never actually declare a winner or an end, because the point wasn't to settle a debt but rather to provide an excuse for staying in one another's lives. Then they started another competition, the Bet, one where they knew from the beginning there could be no winner because they had both already lost and the point was to provide a safe space to explore their budding relationship. Furthermore, all of these competitions required cooperation to keep up: Pat and Pran had to pretend to fight in front of friends and family, they had to pretend there are still unresolved debts, they had to pretend they didn't know that the Bet has been lost from the start. Competing means committing to the Bit, and committing to the Bit is something that brings Pat and Pran together. For Pran and Pat, competition has always been a means of connection.
#bb#bad buddy#bb meta#bad buddy meta#ranch thoughts#and of course the themes of DENIABILITY do not worry I am ruminating on this
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because of course im gonna ask: first aid? —cmofirstaid
(Based off of this post! TFP Soundwave, IDW Sunstreaker, IDW First Aid, IDW Ravage, and IDW Cosmos have all been asked for! Feel free to send in an ask for any character that isn't one of these five 🌸❗️Not limited to followers or mutuals, so go wild!)
First Impression: Oh shit, First Aid! I read MTMTE before I read most of IDW, and I was fucking stoked to see him appear in the Delphi arc- ESPECIALLY with how he was introduced with his report that doubled as the issue's intro narration. Aside from that, though, I didn't focus on him much during my first read-through. Pharma and Ambulon immediately stole the show away from him, and it wasn't until my second read a few months later that I really focused on Aid. Aside from being happy to see him, I LOVED how he was drawn in MTMTE. He's always been cute, but something with how he was drawn in the first half of MTMTE really cemented for me that he has one of the best designs. He somehow manages to be boxy and round at the same time and I love him for it.
Impression Now: You are ENTIERLY responsible for how much First Aid means to me now, I hope you know this. One of my top ten IDW faves. His design remains one of my favorites, and I wish we got more canon content digging into his POV of things pre-mutiny. I wish he stayed on the Lost Light instead of being called away, too! There is so much focus on Ratchet passing over the title of CMO to First Aid, but then Aid leaves so quickly after. Idk, I wish we just got to see him more pre-mutiny. Aid is such a tragic character to me but he's another background tragedy and it makes me want to shake my screen a bit when I think about him. A somewhat vaguely odd thing to say, but I wish we got to see more of First Aid's grief over Ambulon and his feelings towards Pharma. Honestly I wished we got to see more interactions between Aid and the rest of the medical cast in general- including Ratchet, Velocity (ESPECIALLY Lotty (is not biased)), and Rung.
Favorite Moment: Speaking of Pharma, my favorite moment of First Aid is this one right here:
I think Aid should be shown like this more often. I NEED him to be angry. I need him to be murderous. As a treat for myself. I hate the idea in media where the good guys refuse to kill a villain because they'd be "letting the villain win". It's good to see that narrative challenged by Aid here.
... Even if the consequences aren't easily forgotten.
Idea for a Story: Someone put First Aid and Rung into a therapy appointment, I need to pick their interactions apart under a microscope. I do not thing going to Rung would be able to help Aid. In fact, it might just make an already shitty situation worse. But I want to see First Aid sit down and talk about what he is experiencing. And maybe I want to see Rung unintentionally making his grieving process more difficult. We already know from Rung's own admission in Lost Light that he does not know who he is without his patients. He banks his entire identity and self-worth on trying to assist other people. But what happens when nothing he does seems to help First Aid, and therefore his own self-image begins to crumble for it? How does his own perceived failings affect his treatment of First Aid?
Unpopular Opinion: 🤔 Not sure if I have one. I'm allergic to the idea of Aid being really nice and nervous 100% of the time, ig. All things considered, the First Aid we have in IDW isn't nervous at all. But I don't actually know how prevalent this is in fandom or if this is even an unpopular take 🤷♂️.
Favorite Relationship: Canon-wise? It's a toss up between him and Ambulon and then him and Ratchet. It is devastating how hard Aid takes Ambulon's death, and his desperation to help save Ambulon when Ratchet wouldn't let him was heartbreaking to read. At the same time, I NEED more of First Aid and Ratchet arguing with each other and Aid calling Ratchet out on his bullshit. It is rare that anyone steps up to Ratchet like that and succeeds in affecting him. I would like more, thanks.
Non-canon relationships? Another toss-up between Velocity and Ravage. Put these three in a blunt rotation, I'm sure they'll be fine.
Favorite Headcanon: First Aid is extremely tactile. There is not a word or phrase that could properly describe how touchy First Aid is. He has the capability to turn someone who is touch-starved to touched-out in the span of thirty minutes. While this is in part due to just him being an affectionate person in general (or at the very least, more physically affectionate than most other Autobots), it is also partially because of his intense focus on Autobot brands. He is so used to checking everyone he comes across for their brands in the case that they might have a bullet shot through them that the process of checking someone over is compulsive. This extends to people who fall outside of the Autobot ranks who do not even have brands, like Ravage, Cyclonus, and Ten. It's earned him more than a few strange looks and awkward silences over the course of being on the Lost Light.
#ask: cmofirstaid#transformers#character ask meme#ask meme#maccadams#maccadam#mtmte#more than meets the eye#lost light#idw1#tf idw1#tf idw#first aid#tf first aid#transformers first aid#ambulon#pharma#tf pharma#idw pharma#ratchet#tf ratchet#idw ratchet#velocity#tf velocity#ravage#very brief ravage mention lol#rung#idw rung#tf rung#i feel like this one is a bit of a mess but im tossing it out. if i look at him too long i get sad
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So if Superman is Moses and Captain America is David, do you think that Spider-Man is Job?
He's always miserable, with suffering piled upon suffering and loss piled upon loss. But he always has faith in the goodness of humanity and the righteousness of his duty. He maintains his faith throughout all of his trials, and that's what makes him a hero.
(I was thinking about how Judaism and Xianity see G-d differently, and more specifically how they see faith and obedience to G-d differently. In Judaism faith isn't about obedience, and G-d is often an allegory for the world just as the world is often an allegory for G-d — at least that's how I interpreted the fact that 90% of our prayers are thanking G-d for creating a specific aspect of material reality. So if the story of Job is, from a Jewish perspective, isn't about unwavering obedience to a single entity but instead about having unwavering faith in the goodness of the world, then it fits Peter Parker almost to a T, right?)
Wow ok I am SO pissed off that I wrote the answer to this for a full hour and now it's just fucking gone because Tumblr decided not to publish it when I hit post. What the very fuck. So I'm going to try to shorten what I wrote a little and hopefully it'll still make sense. But this is a great ask, for real.
Anyway. I feel like something that's been lost in my most popular posts is that my central thesis when it comes to the Jewish nature of superheroes is not that there's a 1:1 between every hero and a historical, mythological, or Tanakhi figure. The central thesis is, instead, that the very concept of heroism as presented in comics is tied to the Jews who created the genre; it's just very easy to demonstrate these kinds of concepts with direct allegories that have such clear parallels. I actually have a third secret parallel that'll probably never see the light of day, between Magneto and Aher (and like, does anybody even know who Aher is? he's not exactly a well known figure).
One of the reasons I haven't posted this comparison is that it is largely thematic, and therefore requires considerably more explanation, especially for goyim or those who aren't familiar with Aher's story (אלישע בן אבויה fyi if that means anything to y'all). But that's sort of my point - it's much easier to point that Superman is literally Moses and Cap and David serve very similar purposes as characters than to talk about the fact that superheroism is based in Jewish values and traditions: the very idea that heroes are meant to make the world better through action as opposed to sacrifice, the value assigned to every single life (he who saves one life etc), characters becoming better people over time rather than going through dedicated redemption arcs, etc (I can't remember what I wrote here and it's driving me nuts thank you very much for asking).
I gave a lot of context here to the difference between Golden Age and Silver Age writing here but honestly again that took forever and I don't feel like typing it all up, so I'll just point out the basic facts which are that the people creating the comic book industry in the late 30s and early 40s were desperate Jews trying to save their people across the ocean, and also were only about ten or twenty years removed from having lived in the Old Country themselves. Their life and culture was intensely Jewish, they'd grown up in specific Jewish tales. By the time we get to Spider-Man, the situation is entirely different. It's been 25 years of comics (Superman debuted in '38, Spider-Man in '63), and the Jewish foundations of comic books and heroism are already baked in to the genre. Yes, the industry is still overwhelmingly Jewish, but now the separation from a purely Jewish upbringing and Jewish separatism in the Old Country is forty years old. The attempt now is to specifically make stories that haven't already been told - for Spider-Man, the main concept was that there had never been a teen hero before who stood on his own - one that wasn't part of team like the fantastic four, or, more typically, a sidekick.
All these differences actually mean that the coding of these characters is very different. Superman being Moses was intentional; Cap was created as anti-Nazi propaganda. Spider-Man was and is Jewish because he is such a pure example of what Jewish heroism is. He's flawed, he's angry, but he can't help himself from trying to save... Well, everyone. It is, however, important to note that he debuted a long while before Magneto was confirmed Jewish (I don't actually know if he was the first, bc I'm having trouble finding that kind of info easily on the internet, but he's certainly one of the most notable Marvel Jews ever, and he was confirmed as a Holocaust survivor relatively early); it was a whole before Marvel realized you could make somewhat prominent characters Jewish, let alone heroes, and by then Spider-Man was one of their best selling characters, and they're still afraid to this day to alienate readers by confirming him as such.
But moving onto Job - I think I have a very different read of the Book of Job from you, but that's not surprising to me; the Book of Job is incredibly opaque, and I doubt that any two people will interpret it exactly the same. Also, I was raised Orthodox, and I often have very different perspectives on various Jewish things than the typical American Jew. Here's how I view it, though.
Firstly, Job absolutely does not maintain his faith throughout the entire story. Yes, initially he's presented as the most pure person ever, one who has never even been tempted to do a chet (חטא, closest translation is sin; another word would be aveira, which would best be translated as a transgression). And, indeed, it is not his deeds that lead to him losing everything; it is instead Satan who argues to test his faith by taking everything he holds dear away from his - his money, his cattle, his children, his health, his wife.
It's noteworthy, for any goyiche reader, that Satan in Judaism is not the Christian Devil who rules hell. He's an adversary, for sure, but he's more like an opposing counsel; his role is to argue for every human's guilt, especially when someone has committed a terrible aveirah. Forgive me for saying this, but he's essentially a devil's advocate. He can be viewed as the manifestation of yetzer hara on a wider scale (yetzer hara and yetzer hatov are the two natural impulses we all have in ourselves, the first to be selfish or to commit bad deeds and the other to commit good deeds and help others; this is a neutral fact rather than a condemnation of any person, and also I'm massively oversimplifying things here). Also, he's a tattle-tale.
Anyway, back to Job. Yes, at first he does maintain his faith, through the loss of his property, his children, even his health; his wife, before she dies, begs him to curse God, and yet he doesn't. But when she does die, he spends a chapter lamenting the day he was born, regretting that he wasn't stillborn. At first this doesn't look like a direct accusation at God, but it absolutely is, as God is in charge of life and death, but also evidence by the following:
So Job does lose his faith, because as far as he can tell, he has never done anything wrong in his life ever, and yet he has been cursed to grieve everything he has ever had, and he won't even die.
Most of the book is dedicated to dialogue between himself and three of his friends, who come to the common conclusion that he must have done something wrong to deserve this treatment. But Job remains adamant: I did not deserve this.
The general lesson that many people take from this book is that God works in mysterious ways, blah blah. But like... We know, in fact, exactly why this story happened. We saw it! We saw Satan advocate to try Job! So what's the point of the book?
The point is the Job keeps asking "why". The point is that Job hears that God won't forgive his friends, despite the fact they blame him for his misfortune, and he still chooses to pray for them. The point is that he refuses to take what has happened to him quietly. Not accepting that what happened to him was just, but not accepting others' injustice either.
Ugh. I phrased all of this way better in the first draft. I really truly hate this.
Anyway my point is that Job, despite being far richer than the average Jew by the standards of his time, actually is meant to represent a very common situation: what do you when bad things happen. Do you blame yourself, or do you blame God? Do you let other people beat you when you're down, or do you stand up for yourself?
And the thing is those themes are universal, but they're not really related to Peter Parker in particular. In the shallowest sense, the kind I used to compare Cap and David or Superman and Moses, they do not have similar stories or backgrounds. Job has everything, and he loses it all, and he mourns all of it, including the property and money; Peter Parker is working class, has never had enough money, but we see again and again that he views it as a tool rather than a goal in and of itself. Spider-Man's origin is about learning to battle your yetzer hara, your darkest impulses, and we see Peter again and again trying to do his best even though he's often being pulled by his instincts to use his power for selfish purposes. Job does not ever have to learn any such lesson; he never did anything wrong.
The one thing in common between the two stories is that they both believe that every life has value - well, if Peter is being written by a competent authors at least - with Job praying to save the men who are literally called the "resha'im", the evil ones, and with Peter being the little man's hero. But that can be said about most heroes, especially the notable ones. Hell, there's an entire double page spread dedicated to the concept in Batwoman: Elegy. This is more of another indication of Jewish values making their way into the foundations of superhero comics than it is a similarity between Job and Peter.
Also, I feel like I need to be clear. Our prayers thanking God for creating something? Traditionally are simply thanking God for creating something. I'm not saying you can't interpret it as a metaphor for the world if that's what works for you, if that's how you see God, but God was very literal to most Jews for thousands of years, and I could talk for ages and ages about the schools of thought regarding God and the world and Maimonides and shit.
Speaking of which, we need to discuss the fact that Job is literally just some guy. Like he's not a prophet, he's not a leader or a judge, he's just some rich dude who lost everything, mourned it, and then got it all back. I've talked about this before, but one of the foundational ideas of my thesis is that the similarity between prophets having powers (such as Samson but also really any judge being considered a higher authority despite not even communing directly with God) and superheroes invokes Maimonides' claim that the first degree of prophecy is the need to act for the better good, being unable to ignore the ills of the world and doing your best to fix them - that people who incapable of ignoring that urge (and Peter, despite his occasional selfishness, often prioritizes Spider-Man in his life specifically because of that urge) are possessed by the spirit of God. Literal prophecy, communing with God, cannot exist without this base level. So, in effect, Peter is significantly holier than Job.
Anyway. Again, I've definitely missed some points because of Tumblr's fuck up and I intentionally skipped most of the history lesson that gave a lot of context which I didn't feel like typing up again, but this is most of it. Sorry if this wasn't what you hoped for, but this was a really interesting thing to talk about anyway, and I'm very grateful you gave me the opportunity to think it over.
#spiderman#jew tag#jewish superheroes#jumblr#judaism#marvel comics#marvel#peter parker#gail speaks#ask#anonymous
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I need to know that you're ok
This is my first fanfic, I hope you like it.
AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53663482
1849 words
Adaine x Fabian
Mostly fluff and a bit of hurt/comfort
Summary: Fabian doesn't want to go home, Adaine wants to help him
(Junior Year spoilers)
"You guys wanna go to Basrar's?" Fabian asked, as nonchalantly as possible.
It was the end of their first week back at school and Seacaster Manor had only felt lonelier day by day. He didn't want to make it obvious, but going back to that empty home was something Fabian desperately wanted to avoid.
Fig was the first to respond, “Sure, I got nothing else to do!”
Each of the others responded in turn, until it came to Adaine. She paused for a moment, knowing that they all did in fact have quite a lot of work to do. However, as she looked at Fabian she saw something in his eyes that convinced her to agree.
As they all climbed into the Hangvan, Adaine sat next to Fabian. She bumped his shoulder to get his attention.
“You good?” she asked with a kind smile.
“Yeah… yeah! I'm good.” he responded, in a not very convincing tone.
She nodded her head, “Alright.”
She had decided to let it rest for now, but Adaine was determined to figure out what was troubling her friend and to help him though it.
——————————
They all sat around a table at Basrar's, sipping milkshakes and eating ice-cream.
“Do you guys think Squeem will make it back here?” Kristen asked.
Fig responded, “I believe in him.”
Gorgug nodded along.
Riz pushed some papers towards Kristen and she picked them up to read with a sigh.
“Oh, is that for the campaign? How's it going?” Adaine inquired.
“Yeah, it's going great. I really think we have a shot at this.” Riz answered.
“We're going to destroy that Kippercopper Whatever-the-fuck.” Kristen said excitedly.
“Hell yes!” Fabian yelled.
The bad kids went on discussing life and school, but every now and then Adaine shifted her focus to Fabian. She just couldn't get the thought of that look in his eyes out of her head. It was lessened now, but it still worried her. She needed to know that he was alright.
——————————
Later, they were all sat around the TV in Mordred Manor. They'd picked out some fun, shitty horror movie to watch. The sun was setting by the time the credits rolled and Gorgug got out of his seat.
“I better be getting home.” He announced to the group, “Fabian, Riz, you two want a ride?"
“Yeah, sure.” Riz responded.
“Ehh, I don't need to go home right away.” Fabian said, leaning back in his seat on the sofa. “I think I'll stick around here a bit longer.”
Gorgug and Riz said goodbye and the others went back to chatting. After a while, Fig jumped out of her seat, announcing that she had just come up with an idea for a song. Without another word she ran off to her room.
About half an hour later, Kristen left as well to do her pre-bed workouts, leaving only Adaine and Fabian in the living room.
“I can leave if you want to go to bed soon.” Fabian said.
“No, no, I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” Adaine responded, turning to face him on the sofa. “What's up with you?”
“Huh?”
“You've been acting weird all week. You brushed me off when I asked about it earlier, but I know something’s wrong.”
“Adaine, I…”
“If you really don't want to talk about it that's fine, but I really just want to help you.”
Fabian sighed. “No, it's fine. It might actually be good to talk about it. So, you know how my Mama and Gilear went on holiday?"
“Yeah.”
“Well, I have no idea how to live on my own. I don't know how to cook, I don’t know how to clean my clothes… I don't know how to do anything.”
“Oh, you should’ve told us sooner, we can help you learn how to do all that stuff!”
Fabian lit up a little at this, but there was still something bothering him. “That's wonderful, thank you Adaine.” He said with some hesitation.
Adaine moved a little closer to him on the sofa. “There's still something wrong, what is it?”
“Well…” He sighed, “God this is pathetic.”
She put her hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes. “No Fabian, it's not pathetic to ask for help. Please, tell me about it.”
He looked away from her, fidgeting with his hands. The feeling of her hand on his shoulder made him calmer, yet somehow more nervous at the same time.
“I don't think I want to live alone. Each night in that empty house makes me more and more miserable.”
“I see, well I’m sure Jawbone and Sandra Lynn would be more than happy for you to stay here. Tracker’s old room is free now, or I have a spare bed in my room if you’d prefer that.”
Relief flooded Fabian’s body as he felt as though a weight was lifted. Though, his heart still raced for some reason that he couldn't quite understand.
“Oh, Adaine, you’re far too kind.” He said, but then he took a moment to think. “I thought Aelwyn was staying in that bed.”
Fabian’s question caught Adaine off guard, now it was her who couldn't look at him. She removed her hand from his shoulder as she stared at her reflection in the blank TV.
“Uh, not anymore. She moved out before we got back.” She paused for a moment. “I wish I could have spent more time with her before that.”
Fabian wished he could help her the way she had helped him, but there was no easy solution to this problem. So, he tentatively put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug, in hopes to at least comfort her.
His touch was warm and soft, breaking through the brave face she had being trying to put on. She leaned into the hug, struggling to keep her composure.
“We save the world and I reconnect with my sister, only to have to go out and save the world again and not get to spend any time with her. And to top it all off, I'm going to need to get about 10 jobs just to pay for school supplies.” She started crying as she buried her face into his chest. “I feel like we never get a goddamn break.”
“Adaine.” He said softly as he hugged her tighter. “I'll pay for your school stuff if you want.”
She sobbed softly. “I don't want to burden you.”
“It's not a burden. I have plenty of money, why not use it for something good?”
She was silent for a few moments, thinking it through, before she responded quietly, “Thank you, Fabian.”
——————————
They sat there silently in each others’ embrace for about 10 minutes, until they both suddenly became rather aware of their current position. Adaine could feel Fabian's heart racing and her mind wandered back to a memory that it often did, a memory that she was always trying to forget.
It was about two years ago when they had fought at the Durinson Mithral Factory. Fabian was talking to the Hangman and he made a comment about her that she wasn't really supposed to hear, but she did.
"She is rather cute”
It shouldn't have stuck in her mind the way it did, they were just friends. When he started pursuing her sister she tried to completely shove any other possibilities out of her mind. Though, that was extremely difficult to do when so much of what he did still made her heart pound.
At the same time, Fabian was trying to push away similar thoughts. That's what he had always been trying to do, attempting to find distractions that could keep his mind off her. First with Aelwyn and now more recently with Ecaf. He could let himself get caught up in those toxic relationships to keep himself from the possibility of getting his feelings truly hurt by someone who actually mattered to him.
However, he couldn't stop the fact that every time he saw her cast a powerful spell he would get a little flustered. He couldn't deny the fact that so often when he was showing off it was in an attempt to impress her. He wished these things weren't true and that he could just see her the same way he saw the rest of his friends, but they were and he couldn't.
Neither of the two knew the other’s feelings and they were both so sure that their feelings could never be reciprocated.
Adaine pushed herself away from Fabian as she felt her face flushing. His heart sank as he felt the space grow between them, but a part of him was thankful for it. However, as she turned away from him, he noticed something that made him a little worried.
“Adaine, are you feeling alright? Your whole face is red. Should I go get someone to help?”
“N- no no, I'm fine, it's nothing.” She stammered.
She stood up and moved a few paces away from him. He followed behind her, but stayed a little back, not wanting to overwhelm her.
“Adaine, seriously, what's wrong?” He asked softly.
So many thoughts were rushing through her head as she desperately tried to figure out some way to brush this all off. Without thinking, she suddenly blurted out the loudest thing on her mind.
“Do you still think I'm pretty?”
Fabian just stood there in stunned silence, trying to figure out how to respond. As soon as Adaine realised what she had said she began to panic.
“Oh, no no no no no no no.”
She started walking away, not able to face him, not able to face the look of disgust that was surely on his face. But before she could, he gently grabbed her. As she stopped in her tracks, he turned her to look at him.
“Wait, Adaine, I… yes.”
As he looked into her eyes, Fabian knew that he couldn't run from it anymore. Still holding her hand in his, he gently placed his other hand on her cheek and took a deep breath.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked quietly.
Adaine’s heart pounded in her chest as she heard those words and nodded her head. It felt like nothing mattered outside of this moment with him.
He leaned forward and kissed her softly. It was different to any kiss he'd had before. Not as intense, but just as, if not more, passionate.
As he pulled away they both took a second to process what had just happened. They each felt like they had been freed from something that had been trapping them for a while now. However, Adaine was still slightly anxious.
“What will the others say?” She asked.
“That's an issue for tomorrow.” Fabian responded, leading her back towards the sofa. “Let's just enjoy this right now.”
As they sat back down, they kissed again, this time more sure of themselves. They held one another tightly. After a while, they fell asleep in each others' arms, nervous and excited for what this change in their relationship might bring.
#fantasy high#fantasy high fanfic#fhjy spoilers#dimension 20#fabian seacaster#adaine abernant#fabian x adaine#adaine x fabian#fabadine
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Rescued Pt.4
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
TW: hospital setting, mention of past torture, angry outbursts, paranoia
Villain had gone back to silence. Hero had almost cried hearing Villains voice again after so long, and an apology at that... but now he was back to laying stiff in bed, his eyes clenched shut and his jaw clenched. Like he was trained to just sit, to barely exist.
It wasn't fair. Whatever Whumper had done to Villain to make them like this had to have been horrible. Four fucking years Hero searched for their partner to find this. Four years of torture and pain Villain had to endure.
Hero had spent so many nights awake thinking about Villain. Thinking that he was dead. Losing hope was easy after a couple weeks. Then months and years passed and soon Hero was the only one left looking.
They'd told him --begged him-- to stop searching. He didn't, and now here Villain was. How much of Villain, Hero didn't know. But some of him was still in there. Somewhere.
For now, at least, all Hero could do was wait. Sit there and make sure his darling was safe and sound. That was all that mattered. That shouldn't be a problem anymore. Not that anyone would hurt them anymore. Superhero had gone crazy, sure, but was taken care of now. Whumper had a life sentence. Fucker wouldn't be near Villain ever again.
A knock at the door startled Hero out of his thoughts. "Erm- Hero, sir," the nurse whispered, looking nervously over to Villains stiff figure. Oh no. "I'd like to speak with you in the hallway, if you don't mind."
He nodded, of course, standing and following the nurse into the hallway. As soon as he closed the door Hero's hands started trembling. "Is Villain okay?"
"Villain is just fine. He's on a steady road to recovery from his injuries. It's... something else. You may want to sit down, sir." He obliged. The nurse took a deep breath, and Hero took the chance to steel himself, too. "There's been an alert... Whumper's escaped custody."
He looked at her in shock. "Wha-where are they? Why- how did they- what?" He jumped from the chair, nearly grabbing at the girl in front of him before stopping himself. Deep breaths. He ran a hand over his face before turning back to the nurse. She looked about ready to cry. "Shit- I'm sorry. Thank you for telling me. What security measures can we implement to make sure Whumper doesn't come after Villain?"
There was a bit of silence, the nurse steeling herself to give the news. "I'm not sure, Hero, sir. The hospital is refusing to care for Villain anymore. For, um, security reasons. Perhaps... take him home? O-or perhaps to the Organization headquarters?"
This couldn't be real. Whumper was roaming the streets, the hospital was kicking Villain out. And in this state? What assholes. "Fine. Great. How am I going to get him out of here, then? He won't talk, won't move, won't even open his damn eyes." Hero gripped his hair, turning around. Holding himself together was impossible. He didn't fucking care anymore. "You can't fucking do this! You can't just- you can't kick someone out of the fucking hospital! He needs help for Christs sake! Can't you see that?" His fists flew out, one hitting the wall behind him, one flailing about desperately in front of him.
Around him people were staring. Doctors stood around, ready to intervene. Great. Now you've made a scene. Hero scoffed before turning and walking back to Villain's room. They'd uncuffed him after the incident with Superhero, mainly because it was her stupid idea in the first place. Now Hero was in charge. That was another issue Hero now had to deal with. Hero had been next in line to become head of Organization for a while. Until he was officially promoted the Organization would be in shambles. A chaotic mess. And Hero also had Whumper to deal with now…
The Organization headquarters was their only option.
A doctor brought in a wheelchair to take Villain away in. Villain didn’t fight the movement as Hero transferred him onto it. Didn’t even flinch.
“Villain, dear, can you hear me?” Hero lay a blanket over Villains lap. It was thin and not very soft, but at least it was something. Hero tried tucking it in, tried touching his dreary face, tried patting his shoulder. Nothing fazed them.
They were still as Hero led him out of the hospital and helped him into his truck. Organization Headquarters was about a half an hour away, and Hero didn’t know what to do. Should he play music? Villain used to love it when Hero base boosted his favorite CD. It would probably just cause his lover to panic now.
He put the CD on anyways, ensuring that the volume was low. Hero pulled out of the hospital and began the drive to headquarters.
The drive was awkward, to say the least. There were so many things Hero wanted to say to Villain, all of them shoved back down in his throat at the mere sight of the other. It made him want to cry. So he turned the radio up. Just a little.
After that Hero sort of zoned out. It would have been wise for him to pull over, but he didn't care. He couldn't care. Then he heard a low humming that pulled him from his lulling thoughts.
It was Villain, humming softly to the music, his head lolling back and forth. Hero started crying, although silently, and did everything to keep his attention on the road, even though his vision blurred.
The humming stopped abruptly. "...Hero?" The voice was so quiet, Hero almost thought it was a trick of the wind. Looking over he could see Villain's eyes clenched, tighter even than before, but his mouth opened again. "Are... your truck, it- the windows are t-tinted, ri-right?"
He remembered the truck. He remembered the song. He was amazed. "Yes, dear, the windows are still tinted. Just like before." Hero's attention went from the road to Villains face every few seconds, back and forth and back and forth, almost dizzying. But he saw it. Saw him open his eyes, slowly, red rimmed and nearly crazed, but open.
Tears started to fall. There was no crying, just droplets of grief pouring from his eyes. The Hero's, too. "Hero, I ca-can't-" Hiccups and sobs racked their body. "Whumper, they-I can't, I have to-"
Hero pulled over. "Woah, slow down. It's alright, love, you're safe. Take some deep breaths with me." Hero took Villains hand and rested it on their chest. Up and down, Hero made deliberately exaggerated breaths to help their beloved Villain back into a calm state of mind. "Whumper is not here. They can not hurt you. I am here. Right here."
"Say my name," he blurted out. It took Hero aback, but of course he obliged. Anything for him.
"Villain. Your name is Villain. Villain, this is what you want?" He nodded vigorously, desperately. "Villain. I've got you Villain. Okay?"
He leaned his head against his head rest, resting his eyes again. "I'm... I'm Villain, not..." He trailed off. "I'm scared."
Now it was Hero's turn to sob. "I know, love. Villain." He led Villains other hand to his chest as well, slowly as to not alarm the other. "But you're here now. I've got you. I won't ever let go."
tag-list:
@alwaysalilhigh @nicolepascaline @whumped-inc @littlespacecastle @hollowgast1 @edkore @ramadiiiisme @writereleaserepeat @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @robinwrites @aswallowimprisoned @whumblrwork
#writeblr#writing community#writing#my writing#villain#whump#whumpee#caretaker#whump prompt#whump writing#hero caretaker#villain whumpee#villain x hero#villain x villain#hero#hero and villain#whumper#tw hospital#tw panick attack
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nothing to see here just a crazy shipper guy going crazy over Callowmoore under the bit, if that's not for you then go about your business
So fellow Callowmoores how we feelin' this morning/evening? Because it's evening right now and I'm still bouncing off the walls in my mind
The one post could not keep me contained! No seriously the amount of tags I put in hit a limit and doesn't show them all
I mean yes we didn't get a kiss (yet) but goddamn we got so much, it has possessed me, deranged me, it's leaking outta my brain I gotta talk about it, so either jump out or buckle up because this overflow is gonna be long
First off I just gotta talk about how so many things almost lined up how I imagined them because it just makes it feel like they looked into my head and thought 'hey that's kinda good'.
Like, I wanted Fearne to take the shard at Mori's, it was a safer space for her than the Ziggurat which is tainted by bad memories (this and other campaigns), I just didn't expect it so soon, thought they'd at least have a full rest first. In fact I had a whole scene in my mind where in a desperate gambit Delilah took over Laudna while she slept and just knocked on Ashton's door in a form of dread going 'where's the shard Ashton?'. It's key to this I promise not only because I enjoyed the idea of Ashton not taking any of Delilah's shit (plus for you Imodnas out there the mental scene involves Ashton whispering 'Imogen's in danger' to wake her, they also ask where Paté is because they still have that 'Paté is Delilah' theory) but it also expanded on the possible helplessness Ashton would have being unable to assist Fearne with taking the shard
'You're a child, Ashton. A blunt instrument that charges blindly into harm, would you really risk Fearne's life to earn her forgiveness? You know what it can do, what happens when you can't protect her from it?'
Of course, Ashton would never give Delilah the shard, which would frustrate Delilah since she can't manipulate them, but the comment weighs on Ashton a little. Which is when the whole waking Laudna happens and she leaves, but Fearne is in his room (the Vox Machina bathtub scene being inspiration), having asked to sleep there for comfort and asks them if it worries them. Which is where I often got to use this quote
'I don't believe in fate, but I believe in you'
And it sticks with me because it's super romantic, but also on-brand for Ashton, there were variations like the longer 'things only affect our path if we choose to believe they do; fate is complicated, the gods don't give a fuck, and I don't wanna even think about legacy anymore, I don't believe in them, but I believe in you' but then the next morning comes and Ashton gives her the ring, since I forgot about attunement there were instances where it was a sneaky sleight of hand thing, and Fearne completes the process.
Of course, with weeks to go on there were a lot more scenarios like Fearne pickpocketing the Ashton doll to practice talking to and putting it back, Ashton seeking Mori for advice, herbal tea visions where Ashton entered their own mind and encounters the empress while on the outside Delilah possesses Laudna to try and drain the power from them, one where the shard having been reshaped through Ashton is less intense on Fearne for the first 4 rounds (since they blew up on the fifth) because Ashton's essence is containing and dissipating the hostile energy, and one where the group secretly vote against Ashton being there for Fearne taking the shard (Imogen, Laudna, and Chetney 3 to 2 against Orym and FCG) but Fearne as the decider pulls them over because she needs them there, stuff like that I'm sure fanfic writers could consume to their heart's content (and are free to, go nuts). But these scenes stood out because it had elements of stuff that are linked to or actually happened in the episode; Fearne does take the shard, Ashton endorses that Fearne is the only one who can take it, Ashton gives her the ring and Shattered Vigor is apparently a thing where Ashton is practically taking Fearne's pain to protect her, that alone is enough to go insane over.
And can we talk about the ring for a moment, because like THE RING. I'm not talking about generically either I mean that this ring has been significant to the shard saga ever since Ashton claimed it. It was found on the corpse of someone infused into stone, into the earth, right between the whole eidolons stuff where Ashton connected with an Earth elemental and then the Grau Dashari stuff with the crystals they merged with their hammer and then the Bor'dor incident, that could've easily been a titan-based punishment. Also, Ring of Volcanic Flesh, like Ashton's stone arm? And if that wasn't enough, what was the first thing Fearne stole from Ashton when they reunited? The ring, the act that broke down Ashton's walls as they let out a most heartfelt 'I missed you, so much' the ring that Fearne stole right off of Ashton's fingers only for them to willingly put in her hand to protect her, because just as they said at the clock tower, everything they have belongs to her.
And while legacy and hubris had a part in the shard incident, part of it was also for Fearne. I don't believe there's any situation where if Fearne said she wanted the shard at the clock tower Ashton would've said no; Ashton knows that Fearne was key to the shard dislodging in the lava, they sensed it was in a way key to both of them, but there was no reality where Ashton was gonna force Fearne to take the shard if she didn't want it. And yes it blew up in their face, much like Fearne they saw an image of themselves they didn't want to be, their soul broke with the realisation that they hurt the one person they never wanted to hurt, but thanks to Percy they also realised that they had to change. It wasn't enough to see everyone else having someone at the reunion and internalizing 'if someone has to not come back it's gotta be me' they had to make steps towards being the person the Hells needs them to be, someone who can come back with them.
Which is where last episode started setting it up, and I didn't speak much about it at the time because other than the pretty plain 'I would've rather died than hurt Fearne' insinuation (which in turn was confessed to save Fearne from falling) there was only crumbs that could be interpreted other ways; for instance Birdie's tale with Athion and Olly being somewhat of a parallel to Tevan and Ashton, the formers wooing Birdie and Fearne with temptations of indulgence while the latters drawing their attention by being subjects of intrigue, defiance and kindness, plus they saved the latters (Birdie literally via escaping the prisons and Fearne emotionally and literally), or before the Orym conversation when Ashton takes 'one last look' Taliesin looks towards Ashley last. But I knew there was poetic significance to Ashton failing the communication trial, Marisha sensed the vibe too, but even though Fearne was nervous about guiding Ashton, the fault fell to poor dice rolls (and Liam not keeping shtum and summoning thunderwasps) and once again Ashton in an attempt to prove themselves falls flat on their ass in front of the person they most want to prove it to.
And that did break my heart a little I must admit because as poetic as it was who hasn't been there? Ashton's journey of proving themselves has been laden with failure too; being unable to protect anyone from Otohan led to them almost being TPK'd, being unable to keep the group together at the Malleus Key led to the group being scattered, and then Team Trauma's stuff - Orym was despondent and Laudna's a wreck, got a random 'shepherd's boy', a powerful Cobalt Soul teen prodding about the solstice and all of Deni$e here added as mainly combat support, loners but no leaders, Dawnfather angel thinks them insignificant, dark spirits trying to consume their only leads about the Hishari - and the moment Ashton started to trust Bor'dor after the pipe vision what happens? Betrayal, Hunger of the Shadow and Delilah is let back in, Ashton couldn't even keep Laudna safe from herself, they reunite, try to sort out their shit with their past, discover that they might have a destiny to fulfill and end up being too willing to die in place of others, and unable to protect their new family from themselves, because of these recent failures it was important that Ashton proved themselves in the trust trial.
And thankfully they did, there was no way to prove that anyone was a Doppelganger and yet, Ashton still trusted Fearne; twice saving her from the flora even when told to leave her behind. And they were close to another failure when the branch was snatched - after their attempts to keep it safe by throwing it in the pool alone - but they trusted Chet and Orym (father/son duo) to cover more ground while they helped Fearne. And even when FCG told Ashton 'I think it's Fearne', and when Imogen was untrusting of Fearne, Ashton abandoned their held action to save FCG from the brambles because they knew Fearne could be trusted. They trusted Imogen to connect to Ruidus and as mentioned endorsed Fearne to take the shard.
And sure, in my mental scenarios Ashton gives her the shard, doing the same she did for them, but I did say almost like how I imagined. And Ashton still did everything they could, plus Imogen comforted their visible worry, but once it's complete they're just in awe, and then their own spark awakens through her touch, a touch they were unafraid of even at the threat of newfound fire, and now for the first time ever they feel whole. She saved them, and now they finally feel complete, and now this time Fearne is agape, Fearne is in awe, and everything she had hoped Ashton would gain from taking the shard before has come to fruition through her, and it's just, joy, pure incorruptible joy, a kindred connection that belongs to just them. Plus a big piece of paper for all the new powers they are excited to learn about from each other, with each other, and while Matt can talk about there being risks to them because you gotta balance the combat the narrative significance is still there.
But dammit they need to kiss, I've yelled it enough times in my head; like the lava, the clock tower, before and after Fearne took the shard, the only times they did kiss was before the solstice (the forehead kiss) and the ziggurat and both preceded bad times, they deserve a proper one, not one at risk of being a goodbye, something precious, irreplaceable and theirs to have, to share. And I don't know if they should use the patented 'can I kiss you?' or take a tip from BeauYasha and use 'I wanna kiss you so bad right now' or find something else to make their own but I desire it so much, had it happened this ep I probably would've melted out of my seat. They're awkward and nervous but they gotta take the leap, Ashton needs to realise they're loved and maybe even be told that they deserve it even when they feel they don't, and Fearne has to take a risk too, the shard put doubt to her decisions but that doesn't mean she can run from her strong emotions. It doesn't fix everything of course, but sometimes people heal better together than apart. As a currently vorbed half-elf once said 'drink the courage first'.
Curiosity continues to send me after the ep, and while some people are attempting to blemish or rain on the parade (I mean, I try not to speak ill of other ships in general, but if you're gonna be negative about it you can at least do it in your lane, your tags not ours) I am still just riding the high of the possibilities. True, the unknown can make me nervous, and I will admit the group has to give Ashton and Fearne space (they're just excited, and with the bloody bridge hinting to be a final moon-based battle there is that sense of urgency) Imodna had nudges sure but they have been a bit heavy-handed and kinda chaperoned around them, Fearne and Ashton seldom get time alone, one can hope they can get that time with each other next episode.
#critical role#cr 3#cr 3 spoilers#c3e80#callowmoore#ashton greymoore#fearne calloway#ashton x fearne#fearne x ashton#rockwild#bells hells#for anyone who read the whole thing props to you I understand I unloaded a lot of crazy onto you I'm sorry#I have questions about the new powers too; does Mister get an upgrade? Can elementals be summoned? Is it like a Sorcerer multiclass?#do primordials have a equivalent to divine smite? Can it be used on other champions or Predathos?#how do the divines react to this? Asmodeus wanted them for the Calamity and Dawnfather does seem to hold grudges...Wildmother not so much#and do the titans themselves feel adverse to stopping Predathos? Since it aids their enemy that essentially colonized on them#I fear fuckery next episode of course but today's a good day and I will not let anyone ruin that#I will ride this high as long as I can though but I do also need to sleep I got a travel weekend to do visiting relatives#I am so consumed by this ship that it rivals my own birthday as the best thing to happen this week#I am absolutely unashamedly not normal about them#tag bonus: matching shirts! Precious/Irreplaceable and Adorable/Ignorant also all the Hells have 'if lost return to Nancy' shirts#taliesin jaffe#ashley johnson
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I’m thinking about Phoenix’s camouflage going crazy when stressed or scared, so Aaron can’t see a wound well enough to treat it. Imagine how terrified they’d be.
Yesss!!! They'd be terrified. Stuck in an endless loop of stressed -> camouflage goes crazy -> terrified at Aaron's imagined reaction -> camouflage goes crazier -> etc
_
"They're terrified!"
"They're injured. And they won't let us see anything!"
"It looks kind of fucked up. Like an old TV set that can't find a channel."
A throat clears.
"Get out. All of you. We will talk later."
Phoenix flinches at the tightness in Aaron's voice. They're already looking away but they squeeze their eyes shut, preparing for the worst.
"Phoenix, you're not in trouble. I need you to take a deep breath for me."
Phoenix tries. They really do. But all they can manage is a short staccato. They feel a tear drip down their cheek and swipe it away, angry at their own helplessness.
They already know they're a freak. They don't need someone else pointing out how fucked up they are.
"Hey. Hey, easy, Phoenix, it's okay. Where are you hurt? Just show me the area, you don't have to speak. I don't want to hurt you, and I can't see anything right now."
Phoenix swallows and gestures to the back of their left shoulder. There's a large burn where the supervillain tried to stop them escaping with her top-secret information, and although they're used to burns Abbie's never given them one so big, or so deep, and it's excruciating. They've been trying so hard not to move their arm, they desperately don't want to scream.
They're not sure they have enough energy to do so anyway, though.
"Okay. You're doing good. If it's okay with you, I'm going to give you a hug." Phoenix nods, and Aaron wraps an arm around their other shoulder, stroking their hair.
They feel themself relax into it. It's almost immediate, their body crying out for a friendly, non-painful touch. Aaron plays with their hair and they almost forget why they're here.
Almost.
"I don't want to alarm you, but how on earth did you make it here without anyone noticing just how injured you are?"
Phoenix recoils. It's not bad, they've had worse, and of course Aaron has ulterior motives in touching them kindly.
"Woah, hey. Easy. Easy, I need to examine your burn."
His voice is calm, implacable, but it won't be for long. If Phoenix doesn't get themself under control right now he'll start getting angry.
Of course, that doesn't help.
Phoenix wishes they could have the cuffs. They'd stop their stupid fucked-looking uncontrollable camouflage. Even though they shouldn't need help, they shouldn't, they're not a child anymore, but they can't stop anything when they're scared.
They're such a coward.
"Take a deep breath. And another one, that's it. I won't hurt you. We need to debride your injury soon, because there's a high risk of infection, but I'll give you painkillers, we can take breaks, and I'll make sure you're warm and on IV fluids and all the rest of it. Okay? I'm not going to hurt you, you're safe, take a deep breath."
Phoenix has no idea what any of this is, they've never had treatment for burns before, they heal on their own. Debridement sounds serious though, it sounds like it hurts, and if Phoenix doesn't control themself will Aaron just do it anyway, ignoring the fact that he might be hitting unburnt skin under the camouflage?
If their mind was in a better place, they'd realise that that doesn't sound like him, but as it is they can't stop shaking, can't slow their breathing, can't stop their powers from going fucking haywire.
Aaron strokes their hair while doing something or other with his tablet. "It's okay, Phoenix, breathe. Just breathe. Please, relax, and let me see the burn if you can. Drop the camouflage if it's possible. I'm not going to hurt you, you're safe."
He still sounds calm, but Phoenix knows there must be anger or frustration or something hidden behind there and they can't calm down. Aaron is the most patient person they know but even he has to get angry at them eventually. And this... this should be more than enough to cause it.
#whump#whump writing#answered ask#phoenix oc#aaron oc#aaron would like to just knock phoenix unconscious#itd be easier and kinder#but he cant do that
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