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#finally my religious trauma is good for something
akystaracer22 · 20 hours
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Free the Bird from its Gilded Cage
Synopsis: Lucifer would tell anyone who asked his greatest regret was letting humanity eat the apple. Better than admitting what he really regretted.
Notes
Golly gee good thing affairs didn’t exist back then huh!
In which Lucifer’s tism hurts his best friend, the fic.
I think I can tag this as Edenpoly considering the conversation between Lucifer and Lilith.
I give my greatest thanks to my good friend Hat who uttered the phrase “I raise a glass to the friend you could have been and drink to the monster you became” (Or something of the sort) which has not left my brain 2 years later.
No shade on other people’s depictions of the ancient archangels. I love good archangels as much as you guys but… this is very much bashing.
I’m so sorry Michael. And Azrael, and every single angel who’s characters I butcher in this AU. It’s not you guys I swear.
God on the other hand fuck you I’m not sorry.
I have been told by many people irl that I have religious trauma. I didn’t think I did but fuck it we ball.
I am so sorry this came out late but I had two assignments and I'm moving houses, I'll try not to have a repeat.
Word count: 1957
Fic under cut!
Lucifer felt Lilith before he saw her, the first woman’s aura screaming frustration and hurt louder than the tears in her eyes.
She was sitting under an aspen tree with her legs tucked to her chest.
Lucifer didn’t need to guess why she was upset; it could really only be one thing these days.
“Adam did something again, didn’t he.”
Lilith huffed and lifted her head to meet Lucifer’s gaze, “We fought, again. He still doesn’t get it.”
Lucifer sighed and sat down next to the first woman, not for the first time the little voice in his head bemoaned Adams chronic inability to listen to anyone other than God. It was really starting to cause problems in Eden.
“He’ll regret it.”
“He always does, but he still does it.”
Lucifer nodded, “He needs to learn that God isn’t right about everything,” His siblings would murder him if they knew he was spreading this kind of blasphemy, “But I do agree, it’s a little irritating.”
“It is!” Lucifer jerked as Lilith stood up abruptly and began to pace, “He’s great most of the time don’t get me wrong, but he’s just increasingly growing more and more insufferable! It’s like every time he gets better he just goes straight back to being worse!”
“Truly the trials and tribulations of the first humans.”
“I just wish he would listen to me! Not some stuck up self-important know it all who thinks I’m worthless.”
Lucifer wisely held back the instinctive defence of the Creator, “Especially when you are so much more than that.”
Lilith seemed to finally run out of steam, falling back into Lucifer’s arms and holding him tightly, “I hate this… I hate him.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No, I don’t… I hate the man God wants him to be.”
“I hate that man too,” Lucifer admitted, “I hate how he hurts everyone.”
Because it wasn’t just Lilith that was left hurting. Lucifer hated how he was losing track of the near silent breakdowns of Adam’s.
God created humanity different from the grand design, and every day Lucifer loathed that fact more and more.
“He’s going to win, that man.”
“Neither of us will let him.”
“He’ll let himself,” Lilith hissed right by his ear, the sound sending a shiver down Lucifer’s spine, by the choirs that felt good “Adams an idiot.”
“Yep!” Call Lucifer blasphemous, but he was so tempted to-
Lilith opened her mouth to say something, and Lucifer listened to the little voice in his head once again.
He caught her mouth with his own swiftly before pulling back, face flushing as he realised what he just did.
That was something only Adam and Lilith was supposed to do with each other.
Lilith blinked, taking time to process before giving her response, “Do that again.”
Lucifer didn’t need to be told twice.
The bark of the aspen tree was lit up by Lucifer’s wings as he pressed his lips to Lilith’s again.
And again.
And again.
Lucifer had never felt so good. He could see why Lilith and Adam like doing this. This felt so good.
- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -
It was hours until Lucifer disentangled himself from Lilith, still not having quite recovered from the experience. Sadly, he could feel the mental tug attached to his halo signifying his siblings wanting an audience with him. The last thing he wanted was to have them come down and see him with Lilith.
The moment he returned to heaven however, he had the distinct feeling that he might have messed up regardless.
Michael was pacing and muttering angrily under his breath, sharp sounds grating Lucifer’s awareness. When the archangel saw Lucifer, his wings physically bristled as he lunged forward and grabbed the Morningstar by the robe.
“You are so very fortunate that God was already growing tired of Lilith’s rebellion!”
“What?”
“Michael,” Lucifer turned to see Azrael landing nearby, “I highly doubt Lucifer knows what he has done, as impulsive as he is.”
“What? What happened,” Lucifer demanded, mantling his wings to make himself look larger as he stared down the other archangels.
“You don’t know?”
“Know what!”
“God decided to give the first man a new wife,” Michaels words cut through Lucifer’s anger and left only shock, “Made from his rib.”
“… what?”
“Yes, I had to tear it out myself,” Michael huffed, Lucifer noticed the dried red still dusting the angels gloves, “Adam tried to flee.”
“…”
“What Michael means,” Azreal shot the other a look, “Is that Adam didn’t take the information well, and saw it fit to attempt avoiding the situation entirely.”
“He was awake?!” Lucifer screeched “By the choir what is wrong with you two?!”
“It was the Creator’s wishes, none of us knew it would bring pain,” Azrael sighed, “However, it would encourage not repeating the situation…”
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Michael scoffed, “The Creator ensured Adam wouldn’t remember.”
“It would taint him.”
“It would motivate him.”
“What?”
“Our Creator has decided to take a more… hands on approach in ensuring the situation does not repeat itself,” Azrael looked uncomfortable, “Xe employed the use of divine power to keep Adam and Eve from straying from the grand design.”
Lucifer took a step back.
Michael opened his mouth to say something, but Lucifer couldn’t hear over the roar of nothing in his ears.
No.
Nononononono.
Lucifer ran.
He broke into a sprint before diving back down to Earth, landing on the soft grass of Eden he looked around desperately.
“Adam!”
“Yes?”
Lucifer turned around as Adam’s figure came into view from behind a tree, “Adam-”
His eyes were gold.
Lucifer stumbled back as he took in the first man’s appearance, Adam’s eyes were no longer the colour of earth. The familiar dark brown orbs that bore the gold of honey and of leaves in the sun were gone. In their place was the brilliant gold of divinity, of heaven, the same gold of the-
The chain attached to his wrist.
Lucifer lunged forward and grabbed his friends arm, pulling him forward and running a hand along the softly glowing cuff on Adams wrist.
It was definitely the Creator’s doing.
“Adam what have they done to you.”
“Ah, apologies, but have we met before?”
Lucifer’s golden ichor froze as he looked back up to meet that accursed golden gaze, “What?”
“It is just that… you seem familiar with me, but I do not recall ever having met you. I apologize.”
Lucifer stepped back from the first man, “What.”
“Were you present for my creation? That day was such a blur I hardly recall all those present.”
“Adam- Adam look at me,” Lucifer grabbed Adam by the shoulder, staring desperately into those too gold, too inhuman, too holy eyes “Adam. You are my best friend. You remember me don’t you?”
Adam’s eyes flickered for a moment, that familiar beautiful earth brown peeking through for a moment before being swamped by heavenly gold.
“You are an angel; how could I ever be friends with someone of a higher status such as you?”
Lucifer wanted to cry.
The Creator truly was cruel.
“Are you alright, sir?”
Lucifer couldn’t do this.
Lucifer shoved Adam away and ran like a coward, stumbling through the bushes and past trees as he ran away from the puppet wearing his best friends face.
He didn’t even talk like Adam.
The Creator just stripped his best friend of everything that made him… him.
Lucifer collapsed under a willow tree as he sobbed into his arms.
He didn’t move for a long time after that.
- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -
Lilith found him in the dim of night, her eyes sharp and he teeth bared in a rueful grimace even as she took him into his arms.
“We’re not letting them get away with this. Not this time.”
A hot flame of righteous anger sparked in Lucifer’s heart as he held onto Lilith. She was right, this crossed a line.
Lucifer wanted to rush in, to steal Adam away and find a way to break that chain.
Lilith told him to wait, to watch and observe as she would.
“Right now, heaven does not know about our rebellion, if we move too quickly we will both be destroyed.”
She was right, of course she was. Lucifer hated it though.
They had to watch Adam go through the motions of what his life used to be. The way he would no longer wander the garden without reason.
He wouldn’t play with the animals anymore or sit and relax under the sun.
Lucifer almost broke the trunk of a tree when he saw Adam tear out a plant Gabriel considered ‘too imperfect for the garden’ even though Lucifer knew that it was Adams favourite flower.
That flame of anger grew every time that damned shackle glowed and chained Adams will.
It took a little time to figure out, but if there was one thing Lucifer was sure would free Adam and Eve, it was the apples of knowledge.
They had to.
Lucifer and Lilith also watched Eve through everything. She seemed meek through the control of the Creator, but in the few moments the attention of heaven faded and the gold in her eyes let a little bit of reddish brown through, they got to know her.
She was gentle and sweet to the animals but there was a steel in her spine.
She was vibrant and wild as she chased the cheetah’s around the garden or buried her head in a grizzly bears side.
Lucifer grew to love her in a way. As little of her as he could see. But she was the one the Creator paid less attention to, and why would xe? She is supposed to be subservient to Adam.
Lucifer shifted into the form of a snake and curled through the branches of the tree of knowledge as she came into view.
Showtime.
“Eve my dear, may I borrow your attention for but a moment?” Lucifer sing-songed, drawing the girls eye as she stopped at the base of the tree.
“What is it you require of me, snake?” Eve asked, Lucifer watched intently as the telltale hint of red brown filtered into her gaze, this was the shot he needed.
“The fruit of this tree, could you tell me how it tastes to you?”
The woman flinched back as if struck, and Lucifer’s eyes narrowed at her response.
“I couldn’t, God said-”
“And have you not wondered why xe demands such things of you? Have you not questioned why xe forbade this?” Lucifer hissed, snapping off an apple and letting it fall to the ground at Eve’s feet, “I know, and that is why I ask this of you.”
Eve’s will fought with Heaven for a moment as she picked up the apple, but she was not gone yet, “God said that if I ate the fruit, I would die.”
“And the Creator lies to you,” blasphemy dripped off of Lucifers tongue as he all but snarled at Eve, the white-hot flame of fury envenoming his words, “To eat the apple is not to die, but to be freed. To have your eyes opened to the truth around you.”
Eve held the apple in her hands, the reddish brown in her eyes traitorously present.
“How do you know I won’t die?”
“Because my dear, I have had my eyes opened long ago. To open them is a freedom the Creator keeps from you on purpose,” Lucifer hissed, “You will not die, of that I can promise.”
Eve bit into the apple, and the chains snapped under the weight of knowledge granted.
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shiny-self-shipping · 7 months
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Wee rant below
The timing of me adding Ken as my newest f/o couldn’t be more perfect. Bear with me on this one.
I just got back from my parents house where my mother once again “put on her Jesus armor” as she likes to phrase it, to tell me that all the evil in this world is a result of people “losing their faith” and straying from religion. Because everyone knows that you can’t have a moral compass unless religion is what guides you (please note the heavy sarcasm). She then went on to say how I’m missing out on good Christian men, and how I’m also missing out on blessings and opportunities that would come to me if I just “let the Holy Spirit in.”
This isn’t the first time and it won’t be the last that I’ve had to sit through another lecture that all boils down to the idea that who I am and how I live my life makes me less worthy of good things than other people, the ones who are “right.” I know there’s nothing wrong with me, and I’ve worked hard to put up a wall that prevents my parents words from ever making me doubt myself again. It still hurts to know that my mother sees me as defective and lost, instead of all my other good qualities that I’ve worked so fucking hard to hold onto even when traumatic experiences gave me every reason to lose them. She sees me as incomplete for the same reasons that I see myself as a stronger woman.
I almost laughed out loud when, in the middle of zoning out to keep my composure (because if I cry then that means I know I’m in the wrong, and that’s basically admitting defeat in the eyes of my parents), one of the self-reassuring thoughts that came to my head was the phrase “I am Kenough.” I kind of thought it as a joke at first to keep my spirits up, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smirking, but the more I think about it, honestly, the more I’m getting emotional about it. Like yeah, I am Kenough. I’m my own person, my value and identity aren’t tied to anyone or anything I don’t want them to be, and I’m the only one who has a right to dictate how I feel about myself. My parents can try to guilt me and fearmonger me into picking up religion again, but it’s not going to work. The further I get in my deconstruction journey, I’m getting comfortable with the notion that as long as I’m true to myself and have good intentions, I’m right. I’m enough.
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melangedmess · 3 months
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Can't wait for Christmas fever to be over it's too exhausting
#Personal#Nothing ever good happens during Christmas#You have your catholic parents and relatives spewing the most atrocious bullshit and u have sit there like 🙎🏻‍♀️#SHUTUP#I am glad they aren't so uptight abt church & all now at least.#The fact they are converted Christians is hilarious and sad like#Christian missionaries are EVIL and I will never stop yelling about it. If something has to convince you or worse prey when you are the mos#Vulnerable then that's not a religion that's a cult. Especially led by 1 (one) person????#When that church can only ever talk abt Jesus being killed by the blood thirsty jews. Flat Earth.#or whatever bs u try to cook up. This group of missionaries have been busted on news a lot for being. funded by outside aid to#Convert more people.#I can't believe how brainwashing will have you believe the most weirdest shit.#Altho I'm thankful they weren't converted to Islam because then i wouldn't have the freedom I do now plus the horrible stories I've heard#From ex muslims#What other religion is there anyway who is so bent on converting as many people as they possibly could#To all my friends who have succeeded in leaving behind their families of both these cult-ish religions I love you and I'm glad you're safe.#It still affects me. I can't wait to finally start earning enough to leave this whole chapter behind. I've had enough.#Anyway if you can't tell or simply lack basic comprehension it's not a attack on YOU. It's a world wide phenomenon of conversion and brain#You can't deny that and I'm again NOT blaming you for it. Religious trauma is real.#The gangs or worse family members who will kill you for leaving religions is not something unknown. It's real it's true it's happening.#Anyway
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vilwil-brr · 2 years
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Utah
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candyskiez · 6 months
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so, you've heard shows be recommended because they had gay characters. you don't really know what they're actually about though, and don't know if they'd be something you'd be into and are worried about spoilers. here's spoiler free plot summaries of em!
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The Owl House
The Owl House starts out as a typical teenage girl goes into a fantasy realm story, but with a twist. Actions have consequences. The protagonist is a girl named Luz Noceda, who was being sent to a camp to make her behave normally by her mother after causing too much trouble at school. She ends up finding a place she's always dreamed of: a fantasy world. A world where everyone's so much weirder than she is. And she thinks, maybe if I don't belong out there, maybe people will like me here. Maybe I can be special here.
It's a story about found family, propaganda, erased history, living with disability, religious trauma, and neurodivergence. It's fundamentally a show about people who's brains work differently finding each other and making a family that treats them right. Definitely my favorite of the ones on this list. It's about people who've been oppressed being pissed about it and about finding yourself again after giving up on everyone around you for so long. It's basically a show about being a minority and trying to be understood and to understand yourself in the process. It's about growing up neurodivergent and how isolating it feels and figuring yourself out. It's about repairing broken relationships and parents who fuck up. And it's just. Such a love letter to anyone who was the weird kid in school. It's sad and heartbreaking and also so hopeful, and it's wonderful.
Content warnings: Abuse, Death, Grief, Animal Death, Suicidal thoughts, Vague suicide attempts, Depression, blink and you'll miss it s/h, body horror, religious trauma
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She Ra and the Princesses Of Power
Adora was raised in the Horde since she was a baby, being fed propaganda about how cruel the princesses were. After learning how the horde actually was, though, she defects. But there's one problem. Her best friend, Catra, stays behind. Adora finds a sword that can transform her into She Ra, and might be the key to figuring out who she really is, while Catra takes her place as force captain.
It's a story about abuse, at the end of the day. Adora and Catra were stuck in a golden child and scapegoat dynamic, despite how much they care about each other. This leads to them knowing everything about each other but not understanding it. There's a fundamental disconnect between them, because both of their traumas are completely different. They have complete misconceptions about each other. Even in their initial split, they both have completely different perceptions of what's going on and why the other is upset. It's not a story about magic princesses, it's about the cycle of abuse and what makes it so complicated. Does it have flaws? Yeah. But ultimately I really really enjoy it, and when it does something right it does something RIGHT. Get through season one, it starts kids show-y but it gets very good during later s1.
Content warnings: Abuse (obviously), body horror, gaslighting (and I mean actual gaslighting, not what the Internet thinks gaslighting is), suicide, depression, flashing lights and eyestrain during the finale
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Steven Universe
Steven Universe is a sins of the father story. Steven is the son of the leader of the rebel group The Crystal Gems, who's name was Rose Quartz. He navigates the confusion of being half gem and half human, as well as trying to figure out the mess of the rebellion and what his mother left behind. He's constantly in her shadow, for better or for worse.
It's a story about grief. How it impacts relationships, how it taints history, how it impacts family. It has some definite flaws, but ultimately it's about very flawed people who have lost so many people in their life trying to cope with it. Trying to handle what they lost and trying to adjust to life without them. It's about how expectations fuck a kid up and about agency and just a show about complicated relationships in general, at the end of the day. Also, it has some FANTASTIC music.
Content warnings: Grief, Abuse, body horror, very creepy people I don't know how to tag, heavy allegories for homophobia
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Nimona
Nimona is a story about a guy who gets framed for murder. His name is Ballister Boldheart, a commoner who hoped to become a knight. It seemed everyone was waiting to watch him fail, so it was no surprise when he was the immediate target. Heavily injured and away from the man he loves, he's left alone trying to figure out a way to prove his innocence- until a strange kid comes into his life. This kids name is Nimona, and while he is intent on proving his innocence, she gave up on being anything but a villain a long time ago.
It's about deconstructing the model minority myth, trans rage, propaganda, and with a healthy dose of "FUCK the police".
Content warnings: Heavy injury, on screen suicide attempt, flashing lights
feel free to add more shows! just remember to keep the summaries as spoiler free as you can and add content warnings!
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doctorprofessorsong · 2 months
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Destiel fic recs
Another round of brainrot. I hope they never fix what's wrong with me.
Beggars Would Ride by Tiamatv (Explicit, 118k)
You had me at Aladdin AU. When Dean Winchester is caught stealing, he's given one chance for freedom. Go into the Cave of Wonders, grab the amulet, and get out. Things don't go as planned. Now he's got a moody ancient genie to contend with. But maybe he can use up two of his wishes and then grant the genie his wish: to be free. What could go wrong?
This fic is an absolutely delight. I laughed so hard, especially at the fun ways Tiamatv played with the SPN canon and the Disney movies. But beyond the humor is some really fantastic world building and a beautiful story about finding your way when you feel trapped by life.
Genie Cas is very cute and grumpy and sassy, and it's fun to watch him start to care. And Dean has so much heart it will make you ache. Sam and Jess are disgustingly cute but both are also whip smart and fun. And Jo (Jess’ sister in this) is the knife girl of my dreams.
This one is hard to put down.
Tourbillon Dreams by kayliemalinza @kayliemalinza (Mature, 40k)
Dean uses Bobby's life insurance proceeds to buy a hoarders house stuffed to the brim with cursed and haunted objects. But when he finds a clock that also happens to be an angel, things take an unexpected turn.
It sounds cracky and there is some delightful humor, but this fic packs a beautiful emotional punch. Dean is in his peak caretaking, competency mode and Clockstiel is adorable and entranced with Dean in a way that is just immensely readable.
There is something starkly gorgeous about the way Dean and Cas are physically so different and yet they find each other in meaningful and beautiful ways.
Love Is a Meat Loaf Song by followyourenergy @followyourenergy (Explicit, 68k)
A reimagining of canon where Dean is never saved and becomes a demon. He's bored waiting for the apocalypse when he happens upon a certain blue eyed seraph and they decide to work together.
This fic has all the delightful sassiness you expect of Demon!Dean and especially when he spends time with his frenemy, Meg. It also has just absolutely amazing angel lore and a deep dive into Cas and his trauma. All of this is wrapped up in a soft love story about two beings finding each other and seeing each other and breaking down each other's walls.
It's the entire package of funny, sincere and romantic.
Where there is Darkness by quiettewandering @wanderingcas (Explicit, 91k)
I may have popped this on at some point when it was a WIP but I have to renew my recommendation if so. Dean and Sam are lighthouse keepers, but Dean keeps driving off the third member of their team until Cas shows up. But will they be able to overcome their past to carve out happiness?
This Dean and Cas are so delicious. I am deeply fond of them both. They are fighting against so much baggage and yet they find in each other something so special. Sammy is also perfectly oblivious in the best way. It's hard to explain what makes this fic special except that it is so engrossing, you will be slamming next chapter
Valley of God by ValleyDean @valleydean (Mature, 145k)
I know. I KNOW. The MCD tag is daunting in a fic like this but I promise that while it is accurate, then ending is softer than you think and it's really the way it should end.
So there are a few things about this fic that make it absolutely delicious. First, it really delves into Cas’ trauma in a really gorgeous way. We don’t have enough fics that look at his angel trauma (we can't for me tbh) and this one uses a religious cult situation to delve into it. Second, Dean and Cas in this fic are just so messy and delightful. Dean wants to believe that Cas is good so badly. Cas wants to protect Dean the same way. It's crunchy. Finally, the atmosphere is amazing. It's creepy. It gets under your skin.
Is it dark? Absolutely. But it's also amazing.
The Darkest Sunshine by StarlightOfFandoms @starlightoffandoms (Explicit, 35k)
If murder husbands is your thing, this one is a delight of a fic. Dean Winchester is the Righteous Man serial killer, a notorious murderer who goes after monsters (in human form). People who are guilty of abhorrent crimes. But when he goes after Cas, a professor believed to have murdered several students, he discovers an innocent man being framed. Together with Cas and his team, Dean decides to find the real killer. He just has to pretend to be Cas’ boyfriend until they succeed.
The fake dating trope in a murder husbands fic was a total delight. So was the fact that Dean doesn't work alone and has a full support system to go after the worst of the worst. It's an intriguing concept done really well. Dean in this fic is an interesting blend of sociopathic tendencies, a strong sense of justice, and a willingness to do anything for those he is loyal to. Cas is intrigued by Dean and accepts him as he is. It's a really great combination.
A Weed In Any Other Place by VioletHaze @scones-and-texting-and-murder (Explicit, 63k)
On the other end of the spectrum is this fluffy rom com. There is some angst, but most of it is soft, sweet falling in love along with supportive friends and family.
Cas is a writer. Well, Cas had a book published and now he's desperately trying to write his second while convincing himself the first was probably just a fluke. Writers block is a bitch. That is until his car breaks down and he ends up at a little shop called Winchester and Son. By some weird trick of fate, it's exactly what he needs. He has the most productive day in years sitting in their waiting room. So he comes back, and keeps coming back. The extremely cute mechanic with green eyes doesn't hurt.
Cas is a disaster at social situations in a relatable way. Dean is struggling to put away some bad lessons from his dad so that he can find what he wants instead of what his father pushed on him. Both have a lovely support system. Charlie, in particular, makes me deeply fond in this fic.
i like your shoelaces (thanks! i stole them from the president) by you-cant-spell-subtext-without (ayreisha) @you-cant-spell-subtext-without (Explicit, WIP, 33k so far)
My lovely Tumblr wife is back at it, writing the most delightfully chaotic fic based on Misha's prompt awhile back for President Cas and Fast Food Janitorial Staff Dean Winchester. It's a Cinderella story and in equal parts hilarious and adorable. Also it is a Dean-saster/Cas-tastrophe pairing which is always fun plus there's a 2 person love triangle situation.
Dean's stuck in a miserable job with his only escape being his love of How I Met Your Mother and the Tumblr blog he devotes to the fandom. But when a handsome man walks in one night after hours, things heat up. Too bad the man in question is actually the President.
It's a romp and a love letter to fandom.
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peterparkersnose · 1 year
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Feeling You
pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
word count: 3.6k
warnings: david’s episode and themes along with that, reader is chained up, david is literally creepy and disgusting, reader kills a person, description of death, angst, joel cannot physically feel anything, trauma description, ellie’s aftermath of david, religious trauma, mentions of weapons
a/n hi season finale my life is over at least we got mando still 💪
summary Y/N confesses something to Joel she shouldn’t have when she saw him awake for the first time in weeks after his accident
masterlist
join the tag list
read time: 13 mins 10 seconds
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The feeling of panic woke you up. The strange dream you couldn’t remember faded as your senses came back to you. It was cold and your head was pounding. The cold air nipped your nose. Your clothes felt like there was space between the fabric and your skin, you could feel the stinging cold prick your skin. You lay flat on what you could only imagine was a bed. It wasn’t comfortable whatsoever and only made your back stiff. Joel’s flannel from the night before had kept you warm enough to survive. Gaining the muster to move, you tried to yank your feet on the floor. Your right leg was cuffed to the bed pole.
“She’s awake,” you heard someone call, and commotion started around you. Blinking your eyes and trying to adjust to what was happening, the noise of a padlock being opened distracted you. “Good morning,”
You recognized that voice. The man that you and Ellie encountered in the woods. What was his name…David? How did you even get here?
“I’m glad to see your up.”
You scuffled on your hands, propping yourself up in bed. “Where is she?” you shivered, moving your free leg up to your chest. The only other thought that consumed your brain was the little girl you were protecting.
“You must be cold. Here,” David said, snapping his fingers. One of his friends fed a blanket through the bars that were currently entrapping you. He draped the blanket over you. You hated it, but had no choice but to accept it.
“Where is she?” you reiterated. “She’s fine.” David ensured to you. “All comfy like you.”
“This is far from comfortable.” you hissed at him. “Just, tell me a few things and I can make you feel real comfortable.” David said. His tone made your stomach drop.
“Where is he?” David asked, mimicking your insistent question.
You knew he meant Joel. That’s all they wanted. Joel. You and Ellie were just the sad accessories that came along with him. “With the rest of the group.” you lied. David sucked his teeth. “Tell the truth,” he said, standing up over you. Scooting over in the small bed, you tried to put as much distance between you and the man.
“God doesn’t look down well on liars,”
‘What a freak’ you thought to yourself. You remembered reading old stories about cults that mimicked his teachings, or what he had preached at you the night he found you and Ellie.
“What kind of god makes our world a living hell?” you taunted. “Why would you believe in some shit cause? Have you seen what is out there?”
A subtle but dark smile came to David’s face. He brought up his hand and promptly slapped you on the cheek. Hard. The all too familiar needle like feeling seeped in on your cheek. The taste of blood slowly began to form in your mouth.
“We all need a father. We all need some guidance.” David said, bringing his hand up to your face again. You winced, hoping he wouldn’t strike you again. Instead, his fingers grabbed your chin. “There’s always time to repent,”
He inspected your face, forcing it to turn in whichever angle he would like. Blood filled your gums and began to dribble down your face as he squeezed your cheeks together. “Such a pretty thing,” he sighed. You spat in his face. He sighed and wiped the blood and spit mixture from his forehead with his sleeve.
He let go and stepped back. “I see your confidence, I see your leadership, I see myself in you.” he explained, taking another step back. “We could lead, you know. Bring greatness to this group. I could give you a future. A future with me.”
A new kind of fear began as you slowly began to realize what he truly wanted from you. The only thing you were good for in his eyes, maybe besides your flesh. His eyes seemed to undress you under the few layers of clothes you had on. They had taken your coat the previous night and you were left in your jeans and one of Joel’s flannels you stole from his pack to stay warm.
“Just give him up and I’ll give you the world.”
You sat silently. It was obvious that David was getting annoyed. “He’s just your old dad. It’s probably better if my guys get to him before the-”
“He’s not my dad.” you said harshly. “Well,” David laughed. “My apologies.”
He dragged the stool from the corner of the cell to the side of the bed. He straddled the stool and got a little too close for comfort. “Is he her dad?” he asked. You shook your head no. “Uncle, brother, cousin…? I’m trying to understand the relationship so I don’t hurt the little girl too much.”
You looked away and focused on the painted white brick wall. He was searching for leverage, an advantage you were not about to give him. The breathing exercises were not working when you could smell David’s rancid breath on you. “Oh,” he said with a smirk. “I get it.”
“Your with him.”
Closing your eyes, you moved your hand over your face. “Aren’t you a little young for such an old geezer?” he asked. You shook your head no. What a fucking narcissist. This man had to be Joel’s age, and from the looks of how much hair he had left I would say, maybe, older.
The age gap was the one thing keeping you from going the extra step and pursuing Joel. The mutual attraction had been present for a while, but you both were too afraid to face the facts. And now that he was as good as dead, the mere thought of what could have been stung harder than it should have.
“If your not gonna talk, then I’m just going to move to your little friend.” David sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get what he wanted out of you without some sort of leverage. His original plan hadn’t worked.
“No,” you called out, wanting to swallow your words back down. David’s back turned around again. “Then tell me pretty girl,” he said, each step echoing in the jail cell as he got closer to you. “Are you fucking him?” he asked, his nose almost touching yours. With lips pursed and your eyes tightly closed, you shook your head no. Your face rose with heat at the mere implication. 
“Liar.” he spit at you. He left you once again and sat outside your cage with his friends.
You began to doze off. Caged to the bed like a dog and freezing wasn’t the best headspace to stay in. You tried to imagine the penicillin Ellie came back with had some sort of super power and resurrected Joel so he could come kill this red headed motherfucker that wouldn’t stop staring you down. So that he could rescue you and Ellie and you could return to Jackson to get proper treatment and then take Ellie to the lab that was supposedly in Salt Lake City. So Joel could return to you and just be there and be alive. You missed Joel endlessly, even though you were just with him hours prior. And the last time you saw him, he was as good as gone.
As you were dreaming about the unlikely future, the men began to stir. One left, and another followed. There was muffled arguing down the hallway. David was getting angry about all the commotion and went to see what was happening.
“She what?” you heard him yell down the hall. “You mean to tell me she’s escaped?”
Your lungs caught your breath too hard when you heard him say that. She’s escaped? Ellie?
“Watch her.” David commanded, poking his head in the room and yelling at a man who you believed to be named James. He sat down in David’s stool and stared at you. You slowly began to get up, your leg chain dangling off the bed. James didn't say a word. 
Suddenly, two gunshots rang out. You grabbed for the white painted bars blocking you from leaving, and tripping on your leg chain. “No!” you screamed, pulling yourself back up. “No,” you said quieter, the reality of Ellie’s death started to become a little too real for your comfort. 
James had arisen, his hand rested on his gun in it’s holster as he anxiously stared at the door. He took a step back, contemplating what he was going to do. His back was turned to you. Another shot rang out, and James jumped backwards. In the hassle, the keychain holding your key to freedom was conveniently sticking out of his back pocket and was accessible to you. Without hesitation, you grabbed the keys and along fell out his knife. 
James was quick to react, grabbing your hand with the keys interlocked in your fingers. He grunted as your other hand met the set of keys and started to pry his cold, lanky fingers off the keys. James was hesitant to drop his gun, it would have been in reach for you. He was clueless that his knife was in reach where he couldn't see. 
“Fine,” he said, giving up. He let go and let you have the keys. “The second you try anything…” 
He looked over at his gun. He was still level with you on the ground. Sliding the keys behind you, you quickly grabbed the knife from behind him. Panic flashed in his eyes as you grabbed his neck and swiftly impaled his neck with the knife. He began to choke, and you pushed it in once again. His gun fell from his hand as he uselessly pawed at his neck. 
After a few tries with the various keys, you finally unlocked your leg from the chain that had been wrapped around your ankle all night. Quickly, you escaped your jail cell. You grabbed James’s knife from his neck and wiped it off on your jeans. Also, you stole his gun. 
You were shaking. Freezing and adrenaline wasn't the best combination at the moment. You were unsure of where to go. Where was Ellie? Where would Ellie go? You were all she had left. The cold hallway with a door with light pouring out under it seemed like the smart choice. 
When you opened the door, you were hit like a brick wall with a gust of wind blowing snow in your direction. Your arm immediately came to cover your eyes as you hastily made your way through the snow cloud. Just as it was about to clear, two arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you out in to the open. 
After grunting and fighting what you prayed wasn’t David or one of his associates, your hands were held behind your back tightly. Screaming and wriggling, you couldn’t hear the voice of your new partner in crime trying to calm you. 
“Y/N!” you finally heard. The haze around you seemed to settle. “Hey! It’s me,” 
You opened your eyes from the struggle and thought you were hallucinating from the evident dehydration and starvation. His hands now rested on your shoulders as he looked at you with the first inkling of real fear you had ever seen behind his eyes. 
“Are you alright?” Joel asked in a gutted tone, staring at the formation of a red handprint on your face. The fear turned into rage behind his eyes. All you could do was stare in to his face and enjoy the safe feeling once again. An unintentional sob came from you. Joel quickly embraced you. 
His hand shook as he cradled your head in his hand. “I got you,” he whispered, holding your body tight against his. “T-they still have her.” you whispered in his ear. 
Joel’s body stiffened. 
“Where?” he asked, letting you go. He reached for his coat, sliding it off his arms. “I don’t know I was trying to find her and—”
Joel noticed your hands and grabbed for them. They were covered in fresh blood. “Fuck,” he whimpered. “Go find her.” you said, pulling your hands away from his. “But—”
“Go,” you trembled. 
Joel’s longing look was one you were never going to forget. He saw the gun tucked in your pants and gave you a nod. “Hide,” he said in a hushed voice. 
As he was about to leave, you called out his name. He turned to you with a hurtful sigh. He was limping. Swallowing, you spit out the words to the man you had fallen for across this journey across the country. “I love you,” 
He was taken aback. It was definitely sudden and unexpected. His lips parted slightly in shock. Joel’s need to protect Ellie was strong at the moment. He didn’t have time to give in to these childish antics at the moment.
“I…”
His feelings for you wanted to stay, but his duty to Ellie, his duty to Sarah was more important than a silly crush on a silly girl. This whole time he thought he was just being delusional. All the little things, little moments the two of you shared he thought was just out of pure alliance and survival. 
Nausea filled you as you as you realized he had to go. He wasn’t going to say it back; from everything you knew about Joel Miller, you should have expected this exact reaction. He was unable to love, unable to just say it back to someone who was significantly younger than him and was a stranger just six months ago. Joel would regret this moment for the rest of his life. He stared at you in disbelief, unsure of what to do. He watched as your lips pursed and your hands wrap around your stomach, trying to keep yourself warm. 
“I’m sorry.” he muttered, turning away from you. 
You watched as you zipped his coat up as another gust of wind threw snow around the open space and he was gone.
Quickly, your eyes darted for a hiding spot. The survival instinct came in and tried its best to shut out the hurt you had just caused yourself. An old heat radiator stood a few feet to your left, in the direction Joel was. A produce crate covered in snow was another foot away and you picked it up, placing it next to the radiator. You sat on the freezing ground, clutching the gun and praying for something to go right today. 
A terrible scream erupted in the town’s square. You recognized that scream anywhere. Ellie, the little girl you had been with practically since her birth was in trouble. Your heart pounded in your chest as you jumped from your hiding space and ran towards the screaming. When you arrived, you stopped a few feet behind them. Joel was holding Ellie just as he was holding you moments before, moments before you had just fucked everything up. A lump rose in your throat as you feared the worst. 
“Ellie!” you yelled loudly and clear, catching the little girl’s attention. She looked up at you and wailed, her face was covered in blood. Almost falling on your knees mid run to her, she left Joel’s arms and collapsed in to yours. 
“Oh, baby.” you murmured, brushing her hair our of her face. She held on to you and sobbed in to your chest. You offered soft words of assurance, unaware of what monstrosities Ellie had just survived. Slowly rocking her back and forth, your hand intertwined with hers as you tried to calm her down. Brief words through the sobs Ellie let out broke your heart. 
“Y/N-” Joel said with a raspy voice. You shot him a look of hurt as you rested your chin on Ellie’s head. You slowly shook your head in disappointment. “It’s okay, Ellie.” you whispered in her ear. “Your safe now.”
“We really should go,” Joel urged, anxiously looking around. You closed your eyes, ignoring him. Ellie’s wails had subsided, but her grip on your waist hadn’t let up. 
“Let’s go,” you whispered to her, using the sleeves of Joel’s coat to wipe some of the blood off of her face. Joel was right. You all were heavily exposed at the moment. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
--
It was now night. The horse was gone, and Joel was barely able to keep upright for long. You had found a cave while trying to hunt down a rabbit. The three of you were going to rest there for the night. 
Ellie hadn’t left your side. Her hand was in yours as you made your way up the cold mountainside. Slowly, the three of you trudged upward. 
The rabbit you had caught for dinner was average. Joel was hurt, but still useful. He made a fire and helped Ellie get comfortable. She was in dire need for a good night of sleep. Hell, you all were in dire need for a good night of sleep. No words had been spoken between you and Joel since the small town. 
Ellie’s head rested in your lap. You sat against the wall of the cave and watched Ellie as she slowly took in breaths. Joel was fixated on the flames, making sure they were still roaring strong. 
“You should get some sleep,” Joel said, breaking the tension. You shrugged. “I-I can take first watch,” he offered. “No.” you said back bitterly. 
“Y/N,” Joel sighed, adjusting his tone to yours. “Are you going to be bitter the rest of this trip?” he asked bluntly. Your head snapped to look up at him. Joel raised an eyebrow. 
“I just need some time, Joel.” 
“Well, you kinda said it at the worst time possible.” he muttered, using the ground to stand up and fetch another log of wood for the fire. “Well,” you seethed. “I thought you were dead. When I saw you…I had to.” 
You sighed and closed your eyes as you heard him toss the wood on the fire. 
Joel’s shoulders slumped as he slid down back against the wall. “Yeah, I know.” he said heavily. “It’s just hard for me to hear things like that.”
You nodded. “I’m sorry. I should have been more… considerate.” you apologized, searching for the right word. Joel was right; wrong time and wrong place. Stretching your legs out towards the fire, Ellie stirred in her sleep. You and Joel stared at the girl, waiting for her to calm. Her grasp on your hand tightened, but she seemed to fall back into her hazy state.
“I failed her,” Joel said, a tinge of sadness backed up his tone. “Joel, no.” you sighed. “I-I should have been there. I should have been more careful and…”
His face scrunched as he placed his hand on his forehead, shielding his eyes. Was he… no. Was he?
Slowly, you moved Ellie off your lap. She let out a few grunts of protest, but you placed your backpack under her head. You scuffled next to Joel. He seemed to jump at your touch. “Joel,” you whispered, grabbing his hand in yours. Tears welled in his eyes. “I failed her Y/N.” 
The definition of her was falling on a fine line between Ellie and Sarah. 
“No you didn’t. You saved us, Joel. You saved her.” 
The two of you stared at Ellie. She was sound asleep. Ellie was now clean, you had helped her clean up in a freezing stream. It almost felt like a proud parent moment in some odd, fucked up way. The two of you staring at your miracle kid. She had survived and endured so much for her age. It was almost odd to see her resting so peacefully. The knowledge that the two of you got her there safely was enough to keep the hope flowing.
Your other hand fell over the one you had holding on to his, and your head rested on his shoulder. 
“I love that kid so fucking much,” Joel blurted out, his free hand moving to wipe a tear out of his face. “I know.” you said, feeling the emotions in you begin to rise. “I love her too,” you whispered, your eyebrows falling soft. Joel tried to keep it in, but a sudden gasp for air made it evident that he was crying. 
Sitting with him was the best thing you could do. Your hand rubbed over his knuckles that had healed from the events of leaving the Boston QZ. Slowly, testing your limits, your arm wrapped around his shoulders. He moved his head in to the nape of your neck and sighed. He was hiding behind you from his feelings and the world. You were his metaphorical escape. 
Joel’s mind wandered to all the previous moments the two of you had shared. Awkward, brief stares at each other in the Boston QZ periodically before you two actually knew each other. When you bandaged him up after a bullet graze. Your hands were so soft and you worked so carefully, making sure the process was as painless as you could make it. Or when you shared your last meal with him. You ripped the disgusting piece of jerky up and insisted he ate it. The two of you were sitting in what used to be a park and was watching Ellie play on the fragile equipment when it happened. One of the few moments she actually got to live like a kid. 
“Y/N?” Joel whispered in your ear. Turning to look at him, his eyes were red and puffy. “I do love you, you know.” 
A thin lipped smile rose to your face. You nodded. “I’m not very good at these kinds of things… I’m sorry.” he sighed.
You rejected his apology and rested your head back on his shoulder. “I know. Me too,” you managed to say, with a slight chuckle at the end. Your hand wrapping over his slowly turned in to his hand intertwining with yours. “We’ll get through this. Together.” you assured him. Joel nodded, leaning in to kiss you softly on the forehead. You felt a rush of happiness fill you at this small gesture. 
Joel was a hard man to crack, you had known that since the first day you met him. His stubbornness was relentless. This meant the world to you. 
Now as the two of you lay side by side, you felt him wrap his arms around you. Joel was so warm, it was comforting. He pulled you close, not caring what Ellie would think when she awoke. You both closed their eyes, praying this remote cave was safe enough to not stay up and watch for any danger. And it was. 
Joel was healing physically, but the shattered man inside began repairs as the night moved on. He knew he could do anything, feel anything, and try to be even an inkling of the man he used to be with you at his side.
tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy
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tarotwithdanise · 9 months
Text
15 changes and blessings that will happen to your July
༉ ‧ ₊ ˚ how to choose a pile? ✧ . ˚
꒰⠀from left to right ; intuitively choose the pile your mind, heart and soul desire for. if you are having trouble choosing the right pile for you, here’s some tips you can do ; (1) take a deep breath (2) close your eyes (3) ask guidance from your guides (4) finally open your eyes and you can choose the right pile for you by the guidance you ask from your guides. if you are still having trouble by choosing the right pile for you let me know because i am willing to help and guide you.
1 - 2 - 3
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SOURCE AND CREDITABLE : All of the pictures are collected and downloaded from pinterest , I don’t own any of them but credits goes to the rightful owners however edits goes and the reading itself belong to me. Expect grammatical errors with this reading, bear with it because english isn't my mother tongue.
💌 check out my back-up account @melodicbloom bio ; click the link, choose your favorite deals that you wanted to purchase and then send all of them to my email account ([email protected])
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PILE ONE
New energy shifting for your spiritual gifts and abilities.
Your whole family will be protected and watched by God and Angels.
Commitment to a new relationship. Meeting new people in person not online nor virtual.
Joining a spiritual or religious groups.
Old things and something that will remind you of your past will bring attraction to you this month. It's the perfect to work on them, if you haven't in before.
Collecting memories or vintages stuffs.
Your spiritual path is growing, you are now open and recognizing the truth and will soon uncover them.
A confession from S, T or J.
Allowing yourself this time to be feel supported by others and be their supporter as well.
A new positive outlook for the future and present.
Old debt is about to be paid off.
Someone will get married or attending a marriage celebration.
Practicing new languages and instruments.
A birth of a child is a blessing in disguise. Can be starting something new again.
Be patience about what you are asking, you might not able to see it's result this month.
PILE TWO
A big responsibility for yourself to your own family.
A great personal recognition and a positive solution for a problem.
Inheritance or a great fortune for a family.
A blazing love for platonic and familial one.
Moving on from a heartbreak, pain or shocking attack and dating and meeting someone new.
Surprise invitation or meeting from someone. Love is coming for the next months.
Visiting places which is reminding you of your childhood.
July 6 is the most important date. Can miracles and blessings is about to enter in your life.
A dream clarification about a situation.
Influencing others through words and actions.
For spiritual gifts and abilities, you are about to uncover the things about these abilities and gifts.
Big incomes for business and jobs.
A shy person, pretty and psychic is about to reach out to you to ask for your advice.
Redeeming yourself and following what your heart desiring.
Leaving an unhealthy situation.
PILE THREE
Forgiveness, a color green is significant for this pile.
A stabber will caught on act.
Sweet words or actions from a Pisces.
New hobbies, career and friendship is about to shift for your own good.
Exchange something from a true friend.
A dark night will soon to revealed a bright dawn.
Travelling and meeting an old friend.
A letter or message from someone will bring so much joy for you.
Gaining physical and emotional strength.
Openness for good luck and positivity.
Facing a stressful situation or decision.
Healing from fears and traumas.
Travelling from one place to another.
Being ready to change themselves and determine to put themselves away from toxic addction.
Starting believing at oneself.
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Text
Round 1 - Side B
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Propaganda below ⬇️
Matt
Matt's faith in the show is really important and well explored; one of the first scenes of the show is Matt going to confession (or, well, talking to his priest since he's not really confessing at that point). Matt struggles a lot with what he's supposed to do; everyone's telling him to kill the villain and he kinda wants to, but he literally says: "I know my soul is damned if I take his life". He struggles with his faith and goes with his doubts to his priest, and it's beautiful—also when he finally gets a costume for his vigilanteing he chooses to dress as the devil, lol. (His priest tells him that nothing makes people run to Church faster than the feeling of having the devil on their heels.)
a lot of the show is about how he justifies his vigilante actions with his faith, and whether he's doing the right thing in trying to help people or just using it as an outlet for his anger. the literal first scene of the show has him in a confession booth talking to his priest (who is a really interesting character too). this is not the scene I was talking about but it's such an excellent scene with matt talking to his priest: https://youtu.be/XHZ3NbEIDdw
canonically catholic but dresses like a demon to be quirky
honestly i dont wanna type too much but i feel that matt is a great example of someone who battles with his faith because he rarely loses his faith but rather fights with why he was made the way he was and put through what he was. He believes himself to have the devil inside him but believes that God put him there
ok in the comics barring the most current run matt has Mostly been a non-practicing Catholic that very rarely actually does any catholic Activities but ends up falling back into the Mindset and very occasionally dramatically taking confession (ex. in that one issue where he takes confession, basically tells the father that he is uniquely terrible and is thinking about violently murdering someone and when the father says "you can be forgiven" hes like "AUGFH-- NO!!!!!!!!!!" and runs out) when he's gone through some shit. and i love that its so relatable
hello its me cct organizer. i have to come clean, i made this tournament because i need matt to win something. i dont think hell win the sadboy and he lost the ginger tournament and >:( hes my favoritest guy ever. Also @ who said he has religious trauma is wrong and i will fight u about it (nicely) on my main @usaigi
This guy so catholic he spends an ungodly amount of time just chilling in the church. And goes there whenever there is a moral conundrum about killing people being Bad even though it would solve a lot of problems and stop said people from killing other people. This happens every other episode. Matt is the Catholic Guilt Guy. There's actually a lot of catholic stuff in the show as a whole. Just a compilation would be like three whole episodes long.
Hes great hes catholic enough to not outrught murder people but not catholic enough to not fuck before marriage hes a bisexual disaster at all times hes besties with a priest might i add hes great hes my special little guy
his catholicism is a huge piece of his characterisation he was raised by nuns in a catholic orphanage, the first scene we ever see him (as an adult and not a flashback) is him going to confession, he is good friend with his priest and has regular debates with him, etc also in s3 he has a huge crisis of faith after he lost A Lot where he stops believing for a while and it's linked to his identity crisis where he actually wants to kill another person (a hard line he previously chose never to cross) and wants to be only daredevil and not matt murdock, when he is both and needs both to exist also when he was a kid his grandmother used to say "watch out for the murdock boys, they've got the devil in them" and it created a surprising lot of his issues
So he's both catholic in the comics and the show but he's More Catholic in the show. Like, raised in a catholic orphanage by nuns (ONE OF WHICH IS HIS *MOTHER*), second scene in the show has him in a confession box kind. Matt Murdock goes out and gets the shit beaten out of him nightly and also beats the shit out of other people and purposefully leaned into devil iconography as his theme. When his nurse friend says, he takes a lot of punishment without one complaint he says "That part's the Catholicism." It is a Core Aspect of his character (at least in the show). He makes me insane. Also the same chemicals that blinded him created the teenage mutant ninja turtles and everyone should know that.
They went to confession to a priest who they had saved as their costumed counterpart and the guy recognized them by the voice, proving that it's possible and everyone else is just dumb
he takes "i wanna fight god" to new and incredibly violent levels, while also being a sweetheart and a goofball
Actually strictly WILL NOT kill criminals. Goes wayyy out of his way to avoid it. Fights with the Punisher about it. Goes to confession booth after nightly vigilante excursions. Feels so much guilt. "How have you been holding up?" "Like a good Caltholic boy" "that bad huh" - actual conversation with his priest
So Daredevil struggles with his mission as a crime fighter because killing criminals goes against his faith. He makes it a point to not kill criminals, believing that even bad people deserve a second chance. This philosophy puts him at odds against The Punisher, who is a relentless killer. As a Catholic myself, while I love the concept of a morally conflicted superhero, I think the worldbuilding around Daredevil is lacking. If he struggles with violence and killing, why doesn't he pray to warrior saints like Saint Michael, Saint Ignatius of Loyola (a former knight), or Saint Joan of Arc? Why isn't there a community of other Catholics he can turn to for guidance, considering New York City has a sizeable population of Catholics? And why are the churches he goes to always empty? Doesn't he know that the Catholic Church supports the just war theory? I think that would have made his burden more bearable.
He goes to church and confesses to punching people and says "imma do it again can i apologize in advance" and the father dude says "no you're meant to stop now" and Matt says "no" and they do this everyday. I'm not remembering it properly but this is a canon interaction i swear
HELLO HI YES I LOVE HIM AND WILL INFOR DUMP ok so. he is a vigalantty and he got named daredevil and he is an orphan and after the age of 12 was raised in an orphanage at a Catholic church and his therapist is his priest via confession abd. also his mother is a nun he has a whole mental breakdown over god and called Job a pussy because he liked god until he got better and liked god again he said "I'm dearedrvil and not even god can stop that now" and he's so cool
matt is a freakish little babygirl who was raised by nuns and definitely has religious trauma. i hate him so much (affectionately)
he’s literally fucking insane about it i don’t know what to say here. he thinks he’s chosen by god to go on some sort of holy quest to save hell’s kitchen. joan of arc ass.
i already know hes in by default j just wanted to give him a personal shout out i love this angsty catholic dweeb
how practicing he is depends on the run, but in my favorite he is quite literally confessing to a member of the last extant order millitant who happens to be a priest at a church in hells kitchen.
i love him for having the funniest version of a trope i usually hate (person gets into confession booth and asks forgiveness not for what they've done, but for what they're about to do). usually this trope just looks silly to me bc like. the priest would just say "i can't do that" and you would have to either awkwardly explain yourself or just Leave. it's funny when matt does it because fr. lantom is probably like "what are you gonna do???" and matt's like "lol. lmao. 😊 hehehe." anyway we love this angry catholic man who dresses up like the devil to beat people up in hell's kitchen
Harrowhark
I'm pretty sure you've already got plenty of submissions for her so I'll just say she was raised in what is basically a cult (technically a nunnery but let's be real) dedicated to keeping the body of the thing that will kill God behind the rock. One of their prayers is actually "I pray the rock is never rolled away". Harrow is extremely devout as penance for her earlier heretical actions in the tomb as a child (spoiler!) so the Catholic guilt really comes through
imagine being a catholic nun and you meet god, but it turns out he’s a twitch streamer from new zealand who became god because everything got a little bit out of hand. and just before you met him you gave yourself a diy grief-fuelled lobotomy with the help of your best frenemy. imagine how insane you’d be. now multiply that insanity by nine. that’s the fictional love of my life right there.
she meets god. she’s not inspired
she’s number one practitioner of space Catholicism. The locked tomb is chock full of Christian (catholic) imagery themes metaphors etc. just look at her she’s got a bone rosary
They're Catholicism with extra bones. Everyone is a nun. They have what is basically a rosary made from knuckle bones. They technically worship the same God as everyone else, but they're waaaay more focused on The Body in the Tomb (Mary) and we get a moment where we find out that while everyone else prays the equivilent of The Lords Prayer, they're doing the equivilent of Hail Mary. And they paint their faces with skulls.
She thinks leaving dry bread in a drawer is taking care of someone. She's in love with a 10,000 year old corpse (the same one they worship). She spent ALL NIGHT digging with her bare hands to make sure a field had bones every 5 feet so she could fight her girlfriend - I mean, greatest enemy. Spoiler territory: She's been puppeting her parents corpses since she was 8 years old. Instead of grieving her dead girlfriend, she gives herself a lobotomy. She makes soup with bone in it so she can use the bone IN THEIR STOMACH to try and kill them.
The author is/was Catholic and the entire series had heavy Catholic overtones. https://www.tor.com/2020/08/19/gideon-the-ninth-young-pope-and-the-new-pope-are-building-a-queer-catholic-speculative-fiction-canon/ A good breakdown of how it's Catholic
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stargirl-writes · 5 months
Text
devotion
pairing : f! reader x anakin skywalker
word count : 1.3k
masterlist | ao3 link
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summary
when you decided to sleep with anakin skywalker, you have set an arrangement to keep it purely physical. but it was getting harder to repress that you've fallen for him. and tonight, you aren't sure if you can keep seeing him in like this anymore.
tags : angst, hurt/no comfort, pining.
warnings : !mature content! (implication of sexual themes, but not discussed) and drinking. kind of a cliffhanger (i'm debating whether i should make another part still)
notes : hello lovely people, i'm currently hyperfixiating on media referring/relating love to faith and cannibalism (as smone with religious trauma haha!) so here's my tiny drabble on that, i hope ya like it 🪽
likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!
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Corruption begins at the mouth. To consume the flesh— the wanting. The thought of being ready to devote entirely. And to be devoured with the same intensity.
So when you agreed to have sex with Anakin Skywalker, you convinced yourself it was purely physical. The attraction has always been there, one of you is bound to break, and to your favor, Anakin had been the one to come to your quarters.
But it doesn't matter. Whatever you feel is overcome by your fear of intimacy. You can satiate the physical sensations without ever needing to commit.
He wanted you. And you wanted him — in the same manner. Purely physical, that was the arrangement you set.
The days are most exhausting but you can give into the relief of coming apart by Anakin's touch, and his hungry kisses, and his deep thrusts. You'd forget the stresses of the galaxies. You'd allow him to hold you, without him knowing that no one has ever stood to your soul as he does when his eyes fix on you at the edge of your climax.
And Anakin would fuck like you were the most beautiful thing he'd got his hands on. He becomes greedy, he'd become the closest thing to intimacy you can define.
It never mattered how you felt before.
He always made sure to have you feel good first, and you'd always make him crumble by your touch after.
It was a mutual exchange.
There's no need to complicate such a clear line by confusing his kisses as something romantic.
You knew he was carnivorous about love— he'd want to be teeth deep in possession. He could love you, if you let him, you could become his God.
And that terrified you more than your fear of intimacy.
You stood up from the sheets, legs still trembling.
Despite the moments earlier, you wrapped your robe around your body, feeling exposed.
You know Anakin would never stay after. It was good that he didn't. At least, then you can reestablish some space after such a binding ritual of fucking and vows that leave his lips in the heat of the moment.
You sat down by the chair away from your bed, pouring yourself a drink. It was a vice you developed during the war. One you can't entirely quit because it sends you straight to sleep.
Anakin was steadying his breath. You heard him shuffling, as if he too was trying to come down from the high.
You downed your drink and poured another. Begging for that warm buzz to come over quickly so you'd stop feeling so... excessively.
Through the mirror, you saw Anakin put back his garments— his hair stubbornly a mess.
You take your gaze away from lingering on his bare torso. Or his sharp jaw. Or his tight back.
You drank your shot once more.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" Anakin says, his profile the only thing you could make out from the reflection.
Your heart aches, torn between wanting to say yes, i'll see you tomorrow, please come find me tomorrow, hold me tomorrow, and no, i can't keep doing this tomorrow, i don't want to see you tomorrow.
You cannot admit that you knew loving would destroy you. if he comes tomorrow, you fear you'd break and finally tell him. But then again, if you refuse, he'll know how you felt.
The stage is finally set; for you and Anakin to dance and circle around waiting to be consumed by one another.
Possession is cruel, it corrupts. You thought, with all the love you have— you could eat him whole.
You don't speak, Anakin steps forward, standing very close to your back.
The heat of his body emanates to your robes— casting imprints on the fibers of your soul.
You saw Anakin's gaze land on the drink you were having. He never did like how you turn to alcohol for some sort of relief.
"Did you not want me to come tomorrow?" He insists after noticing your silence.
Your lips purse, "No"
He tilts his head, lost by what you meant.
"No— no, you can, if you want to" you clarified, unsure how committed you were to your own words.
You downed the rest of your drink— feeling the familiar haze of its effect.
"Then what's bothering you?" Anakin speaks softly, you hated how much you didn't want to ruin this.
You sigh, shaking your head "Nothing"
"Nothing at all"
Anakin kneels down, wanting to see your eyes. His eyes were dark, intent, you wondered what they'd look like if he fell in love.
"Did I—" He begins, Your eyebrows furrow at the concern coating his voice.
"Did I hurt you? Did I do something?"
You pressed your palm against his cheek, forcing him to look up. "No, Anakin"
Under your touch, he looked like everything you asked for. Underneath your sinful fingers, he becomes something you could worship.
You caught yourself dreaming and withdrew your hand, taking the glass of alcohol instead.
You could feel his eyes burn at your skin watching you drink.
"I'll see you tomorrow" You dismissed, standing up, trying to establish some space, so you can stop being so encased by his warmth, or his eyes, or his hair, or his hold on you he was so blissfully unaware of.
Your head spun, you fought through the blurriness.
You found yourself at the balcony instead, a breath of fresh air would do you good.
You waited to hear your door lock— held your breath til he left.
But he stays.
"You know, you really should stop depending on alcohol" Anakin appears next to you.
You ran your finger to the rim of your drink, huffing a breathless laugh.
"It's the only thing that comforts me nowadays" You sigh, not intending the double entendre.
Besides, you doubt he'll interpret your attraction to him as anything else.
The silence hung once more. The cold of the midnight air felt crisp against your bare legs, so you hugged your robe against your skin.
"I worry about you" Anakin's voice was husky, exhausted. "We used to be able to talk about everything before"
Your heart tinges in guilt. Along the way, you somehow have pushed him farther away by denying how you felt.
"I'm sorry, I've just been trying to figure out some things"
You're doing it because of love. And for love, you disappear.
"Well, come to me. You know you can always come to me, whenever you need me." Anakin stresses.
You look up, biting your tongue. Begging to stay in one piece.
If you offer yourself— it'd be the most selfish thing you'll do.
You'll be mine. You thought as you get lost in his eyes.
Burning devotion. For all eternity.
"Anakin, we can't keep doing this anymore" You said finally, submitting to your truth.
Anakin's eyes furrow in focus. "Doing what?"
You frown, trying to explain something incommunable.
You've always felt ashamed for wanting. For taking. It wasn't a virtue, it was a disguise. Because you can't love without giving yourself entirely, bones and all. Ravenous, intense, unforgiving devotion.
Because isn't bite also a form of touch?
Finally, Anakin seems to understand the expression painted on your face. You held your breath, bracing for his reaction.
"You wanted this" He reminds. The sterness of his voice made you flinch. It felt like the cruelest rejection.
"I know"
"You said clear lines. No attachments"
"I know" You felt like you were being caught in the act of doing something forbidden.
Anakin's expression hardens, seeming to process your admission.
Your tears were threatening to fall, but you refused to let them. You didn't want him to feel sorry you felt that way. You didn't want him to know how far you've pathetically fallen for him.
He turns to his heel and your heart breaks.
The tear finally leaks your left eye, as your hand reaches out, just enough to grip on the end of his robe.
"Stay"
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part ii?
© to @cafekitsune for the borders!
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mikathewriter · 2 months
Text
*.✧୨⎯ Writeblr Intro⎯୧✧.*
Here you will find: writing tips, writing advice, WIP sharing, tag games about WIPs or OCs, random reblogs about the stuff I like and original writing.
About me:
Hi! My name is Mika and my pronouns are she/they. I don't really like to fit into a category of gender, and maybe that makes me agender? But I don't feel like defining that either. Anyways, I don't really mind "male" slang being used toward me, like "dude" or "man". I'm just Mika. That's it!
I've been writing since I can remember. I was born to tell stories and my dream is to have a book of mine published. My favorite genres are fantasy, thriller, sci-fi, dystopia, romance and horror;
I don't really enjoy reading fanfics and I never wrote them, but I don't think it's bad or anything like that. On the contrary, I feel like it's something that makes many great writers shine! However if you want me to read something you made, I'd prefer your original work!
Having said that, I am very chat friendly! Hit me up on the DMs, interact with me, I love all of it! If you need a beta reader or if you just want someone to read what you have already published, please please please let me know! I adore reading original work and I'll do my best to read it regularly and give my thoughts on it (if you ask for it of course);
More under the cut!
Random facts about me:
I'm from Brazil!
I'm also an artist but I don't really draw anymore... But many of my characters got drawings made by me and I might post them!
I'm an ISFP Chaotic Good Bisexual;
I have OCD (feel free to ask questions about it);
I also am a Dungeon Master, but I prefer being called a Game Master, because I'm not really big on the dungeons and dragons;
I love videogames, but my favorites are Resident Evil, The Last of Us and Night in the Woods;
My favorite color is green and I love opossums :D
\/\/\/\/\....../\/\/\/\........./\/\/\/\/\/\...../\/
MY WIPS
> Shards
Synopsis: Thousands of shards of glass don't work like pieces in a puzzle. They are broken, chipped and permanently damaged. Therefore, fractured minds and broken hearts are irreparable. Shards are just small fragments of incomplete storries, forever lonely.
They are horror stories and I recommend you check the TW before reading them. Stay safe!
> All the Other Colors Drowned (ATOCD)
Synopsis: After a trauma that granted her the strange ability to see the auras of those around her, 19-year-old Maya finds herself trying to start her adult life by joining an art club.
Living with OCD, synesthesia and all the various issues that come with adulthood, she now also needs to find out more about Cassandra, a girl from said club with an aura unlike any she has ever seen before.
All the Other Colors Drowned will be unveiled in this Brazilian sapphic romance, where two lost girls finally find themselves in each other.
> Untitled
No Synopsis yet, it's my biggest project and it's probably going to take years to be complete, but it's a Fantasy with a Fae World, where a girl has lost her little brother years ago and will do anything to find him.
\/\/\/\/\....../\/\/\/\........./\/\/\/\/\/\...../\/
And finally
BIG YES TO:
Being tagged in tag games or interaction posts;
Getting asks about whatever;
Talking on the DMs about whatever;
Listening to you talk about your WIPs and OCs or seeing your drawings;
DNF IF:
You are a TERF or perform any kind of bigotry. You are NOT welcome here and this is a very safe space for LGBTQ+ people.
I will probably not follow if:
You post about religion. I have OCD and Religious Trauma and I will not be looking for a trigger. Made up religions for your books are okay, though.
Be kind and stay humble ♡
And thank you if you read all this! ~Mwa
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violettaskies · 1 year
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To Share A Kiss The Devil Has Known
(ch. 3)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x you // Eddie Munson x f!reader // perv!Eddie Munson x innocent!reader
Genre: romance, mild smut, Catholic trauma, religious trauma, friends to lovers, slow burn
Notes: the final part!! hope you enjoy // Eddie is kinda pervy lol // he’s kinda dark but also not // i tried to write him to be as much of a consent king as possible // please read chapters 1 and 2 if you want some more context and details, but if u just want smut then i totally get it lol this chapter is the one for u
Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // talks of religion, reader's parents are religious, light manipulation, pillow humping, humping, first times, dacryphilia, corruption kink, praise kink, masturbation, smut, slight dubcon //please let me know if there should be more added, thank you!
ao3 // chapter one // chapter two // masterlist // series masterlist
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It was a kiss only the Devil knew: fierce and decidedly unvirginal, tasting like cigarettes and salty tears the moment Eddie’s mouth was on yours. What had only been a fantasy to him for years, just became reality, and he didn’t know how to react. This was something he would think about nearly every second of the day — from times you would apply lip gloss on while looking in your locker mirror, to the way you bit the same shiny lips during the day if you found something he did funny. Getting to kiss you was a blessing and Eddie was going to let you know that. 
His lips were soft, only moving gently at first so you could get used to the feeling. You swear the kiss took over your entire body, because now you were grabbing Eddie’s hair to pull him closer. Everything within you wanted more, but the lingering guilt from your confession came back just as you felt his soft tongue lick your bottom lip. 
“E-Eddie,” you breathed out, letting go from his vice grip for a moment. “What are we doing?”
“Kissing,” the man teased before stroking your neck to guide you towards his lips again. You nearly gave in, but the guilt took over. 
“We can’t, this is wrong my parents are upstairs and they might —”
“Do you want to stop?” Eddie cut you off, and the deepness of his voice resonated through your body. 
“No, I don’t.” With that, you made the first move to kiss him now, tilting your head upwards to join your lips together. No matter how wrong this was, no matter how many times your family and friends said that there was no dating or kissing boys ever — you didn’t care. The Angel on your shoulder wanted this too. 
Eddie’s lips lingered on yours for a few moments, peeking his tongue through to see if you would understand what he was trying to do. Then, with one stroke down your spine, where he knew you would tingle, you gasped, letting his tongue in. It felt strange, but soft, as he explored for a few seconds before you tried to follow. 
“Is this French kissing?” you whimpered between kisses. 
“Yes, it is.” Eddie began to leave a trail with his mouth from your cheek down to your neck. “How do you know about that? I thought you were a good girl.” 
“I am, a-aah good girl,” you moaned loudly as he started to lick and suck against your pulse. “I read it in a magazine accidentally.” 
“Accidentally?” he whispered into your neck with a slight chuckle, while holding your body so he could guide you to lay down with your head on the left armrest. 
You started to feel lightheaded as he continued kissing your neck and stroking up and down your body. “Yes, it was at my friend’s house during a sleepover.”
“Did you like it?” he teased, looking you straight in the eye again. You nodded, then grasped the front of your friend’s shirt to pull him down to kiss you again. 
Eddie could see that you were nervous, but the talking was helping you relax as each moment passed. So much so, that the new position of you laying down made it so your legs had more of an opportunity to unknowingly rub against each other. He wondered if you realized just how much you were whimpering and moaning into his mouth, and especially if you recognized the denim-clad hardness rutting against your thigh. 
After a few minutes of sweet kisses between the two of you. Some where he would need to hum into your mouth to get you to slow down, Eddie went to shift both your bodies slightly so he could lay on his side with his head on the arm rest with you — his back to the plush of the sofa. He couldn’t help but smile at the heat that kept rising to your cheeks as you eagerly tried to deepen the kiss. 
“This feels so nice, Eddie,” you tried to whimper as quietly as possible so your parents still thought you two were working on the project. With soft lips, Eddie tried to get you to slow down and loosen the grip on his shirt. 
“Yeah?” he slowly kissed the side of your mouth then moved his head back to look you in the eye while stroking your cheek with his thumb. 
“And we aren’t sinning right now, right?” You look up at him nervously. 
“No, nothing too naughty is happening right now,” he chuckled while going down to meet your foreheads together. 
“But, I’m feeling the same way I did all those nights, Eddie. What if—”
He tilted his head towards you again, capturing your lips in a chaste kiss. “Don’t feel guilty for such a beautiful thing you can’t control.”
His words were always so kind to you. Even now as you began to release a tear or two out of your nervousness, Eddie was able to wipe them and soothe the shivers you did in his arms. “I w-want more. But, we shouldn’t — I shouldn't — Eddie, please help me with my sins.” 
“Thought you’d never ask,” he smiled as he saw the way you kept clenching your thighs together at the pleasure only a few minutes of kissing gave you. Eddie went to linger on your lips again, drinking your moans, and tasting the remnants of the strawberry lipgloss you enjoyed so much. While you tugged the hair on the back of his head every time you felt a strong wave of pleasure. 
As you opened your lips to draw a breath, he took that chance to taste you with his tongue quickly, before moving down to whisper sweet nothings into your neck. 
“You’re so beautiful, you know that? How I longed for the moment I got to kiss an Angel, only to find out she’s been making herself come every single night for weeks?” Eddie said on your pulse as his hands roamed your back and thighs. “Maybe I do believe in God.” 
“What do you mean?” You whispered, not realizing how his mouth was leaving marks all over your neck. 
“I’ve dreamed about this for years. Now that I have you in my arms, begging for me to sin with you — there’s a part of me that thinks I’m still asleep,” he recited as he kissed his way up to your mouth again, wanting you to inhale his love through the words. Then, he moved his hands on your left knee, before trying to stroke his way up your inner thigh. 
“Sometimes I dream about you too,” you blushed at the thought that the basement confessional was still ongoing. “Then I think of your nice touches all over my body and how it makes me tingle because I want more. Just like how you’re doing now.” 
Eddie touched the sides of your thighs, massaging slowly, only going underneath the hem of your skirt for a moment before going back down to the already exposed skin. “Like this?” You nodded with a whimper in response. “How about something like t-this?” He said through gritted teeth, right as he squeezed the plush of your bottom. 
“Y-yeah, once in a while,” you shyly admitted. “I thought it would feel good if you touched me there. It does.” 
“Good to know, sweetheart.” Eddie smiled to himself. “Do you want me to do more?” Although every cell in his body wanted to commit a plethora of sins with you, he knew this was probably the most traumatic and overwhelming past few days for you. He wanted you to say that you needed to do this with him. 
“What were you thinking? I think if you helped me like I help myself, it would be weird.” He tilted his head out of confusion. “I don’t want you to move a pillow beneath me,” you said the words with such innocent eyes that Eddie couldn't help but kiss your nose before speaking again. 
“Like I said before, I could do all the work on your pretty little pussy. I can do so much more than a pillow, baby. That’s what friends — best friends — are for, to help each other when they need it.” Eddie began to move his fingers to the front of your thighs, right underneath your skirt, inching his way closer and closer to your cotton panties. “We can pretend that I’m your pillow.” 
You giggle at the idea, heat flooding in your face out of sheer embarrassment. “But pillows are soft, you’re hard.” 
“Y-yeah, so fucking hard,” Eddie giggled alongside you, but he found your unknown innuendo cute. After one last kiss to your lips, he left you alone at the armrest to lay above your stretched out figure. His hands were moving everywhere, nearly distracting you from the way his leg was stroking yours as you slowly opened them. 
The plush of your thigh brushed up against his hardness when you felt Eddie squeeze your butt again. He groaned into your mouth then shot up to sit in front of you — your right leg in between both of his knees. As he looked at you with fire in his eyes and swollen lips, something awoke in you. Eddie, your friend for the past few years was basically eating you alive, and you didn’t want it any other way. As his eyes made a trail from your panting lips all the way down to your thighs, you started to feel self-conscious at the fact that he might be able to look up your skirt. 
Even if his hands have been up them for half the night. 
To him though, you looked like an Angel looking up at him: lips quivering, thighs unknowingly squeezing together, and your eyes brimming with tears at the pleasure you’re feeling. Even your voice sounded equally as beautiful and Angelic to his ears. 
“So, Eddie, are you gonna help me?” you looked at him whilst biting your lip and pushing your skirt down at how exposed you feel. 
“Am I going to help you sin?” he waited for you to nod slightly before continuing. “Of course I am. But I’ve been helping you this whole time, haven’t I? Making your body tingle just the way you like it before you start to sin in bed, huh?” Eddie never looked away from your eyes as he said the words while trying to pry your thighs apart by leaving featherlight touches on them. Once they were spread wider than they have tonight you gasped. 
“It’s too much now, everything feels a lot more intense than when I’m alone though,” you whimpered out as you let go of holding down your skirt, and let Eddie trace patterns in your inner thigh underneath the tartan pattern. 
“Trust me, that’s a good thing,” his hand squeezed your thigh tightly before he brought himself lower to kiss you. While you found yourself sitting up, craving his lips on yours, and meeting him in the middle. As Eddie kissed you deeply and started to rock his hardness on your thighs lightly, he moaned at the feeling. It wasn’t the right angle though, so the man held you tightly before pushing your back onto the armrest so you were sitting up at an angle. 
“Are you feeling that way too?” You question him between kisses since he started moving so much quicker than before. “Eddie?” The moan came out involuntarily. 
“Yeah, baby, I’m definitely feeling that way.” An idea popped inside his head. “You said you put your pillow right here, huh?” The Dealer lifted your skirt slightly so his fingers could find a wet spot on your cotton panties; but Dear Lord, the whole thing was nearly drenched as he felt it. “And that feels good right?”
You nodded, looking back and forth from his eyes to where his hand was placed. “Y-yes, it feels nice every time I—” a loud yelp left your throat as Eddie started to stroke slow circles right above where your hardened nub was. “What are you doing?” you whispered while biting your lip to stop you from moving your hips forward for more. 
Eddie swooped down to capture your lips with a smile one last time before placing himself to sit between your legs, ensuring both of your thighs were on top of his before speaking. “This, my sweet girl, is what you’ve been rubbing against, it can make anyone scream if you hit it just right.” He continued rubbing slow circles on the cloth-covered clit, making you mewl at the touch. 
“It feels different now, with your f-fingers,” you felt Eddie lift your skirt up fully, showing him the baby blue panties you put on this morning. The exact same colour he saw you wear during that homecoming dance years before, and swore you were an Angel sent to earth for him. 
Heat flooded to your face out of embarrassment of being so much more exposed to your friend now more than ever. “Look how wet you are, if we aren’t careful, we’re gonna ruin your dad’s nice couch.” 
“Let’s ruin it then,” you couldn’t think before speaking, all you could focus on was how nice Eddie’s fingers felt, adding more pressure every time you bucked your hips forward at him. 
“Such a bad girl, sinning in your parents' house every night. Now you’re doing it with the Devil, begging him to commit the sins for you — does that make you feel good?”
“You make me feel good.”
If Eddie knew you had such a mouth on you, he would’ve been playing with you in this way so much sooner. 
He decided to forget that thought, and memorize how you looked in the present. He was enchanted by all of you and the way his Angel could be so bad, just for him. Only for him. Eddie wanted to see you come undone in the same way you’ve been doing yourself for nights — only this time, he wanted to be the one to help get you there. 
So he continued playing with your clit over the cotton panties, flicking up and down, or using two fingers to pinch it: which he found out you really enjoyed. While the other hand played with the waistband, snapping it to get you out of your blissful haze. “Do you ever take these off when you really can’t sleep?” 
“Sometimes, b-but not all the time. I find the pillow gets too wet if I do.” No man has ever wanted to be an inanimate object so bad in their entire life, until Eddie heard those words come out of your lips. 
“F-fuck,” he muttered at the thought, the tightness of his jeans making itself known because of his growing hardness. “Can we take it—”
“No,” you exclaimed while sitting yourself up to grab his shirt’s neckline. “That would be bad, my parents said I should never show it to anyone.” 
“I’m not just anyone, am I?” Eddie kissed you sweetly while holding your face with the hand that was on your panty’s waistband a moment ago. Then guided you back down to lay on the couch again, whilst he followed. “But, that’s okay, we are still going to have fun, if you still want to.” 
“I-I do, please. Can you do that thing some more?” you begged while moving your hips towards the hand of his that was still locked on your wetness. 
Eddie couldn't take it. You were begging, squirming, and whimpering below him for so long that every small movement was felt from his hand to the front of his jeans. So he let go of his hold on your core, causing a whimper of sadness to escape your throat, before he spoke again. “There’s something I want to try. I promise it’ll help you and I feel so good.” 
You could see the desperation in his eyes for the first time tonight. Eddie was going to help you tonight by helping you fall asleep soundly after he does the sinning for you — so why not help him in return? It’s a nice thing to do, right? “Will it be anything bad?” 
“No, Angel, nothing bad at all, it will just be me. Just like I said before, your pretty little pussy won’t need to do a thing — you’ll be sinless tonight, pinky promise.” Eddie holds out his finger in front of your face, knowing full well he lied; however, if it means that you could be happy at least once today, he would do anything. 
“Then, alright,” you join your own pinky with his, before you both kiss your hands simultaneously. “What did you want to try?” 
Eddie coughed loudly making you both giggle then shush him. “Well, tonight I could be your pillow in a way. Just imagine we’re in your bed in the middle of the night and you grab that big stuffed bear I know you have.” 
“I don’t see how that could possibly help you though. Normally, I just use Mr. Honey’s button nose or leg.” The confession came out of you so easily that it even shocked you for a moment once it was blurted out. “Does that mean you’re going to look at my —”
“No, no, no, you said you didn’t want to show me so that’s alright. I was thinking you could use a different part of me than that toy,” Eddie took a moment to stroke your sides as he went to sit up again. Your panties were still on display to him, the wetness still seeping through. If only he could be your bear and use his nose on you too. 
But now, he started to unbuckle his belt, the silver metal making echoing noises through the basement. Then when Eddie untucked his white shirt from his grey jeans, you saw a glimpse of the defined stomach, and hair leading towards the bottom. Something deep down began to throb, just like how you felt those nights right before you had to sin. Unsure of what to do, you moved your hips so your thighs would squish together and offer you some relief. 
Eddie was just about to start pulling down his denim, when he heard you moan. He looks away for one second, and your body was already begging for more. 
“You naughty girl, I haven’t even taken off any clothing yet and you’re turned on.”
“What do you want to do, Eddie? Please, tell me.” You ignore his comment and reach for his thigh to help him in his conquest of trying to give you a seductive strip tease.
“Needy, needy. I thought you said you don’t want to sin, sweetheart?” 
“B-but I haven’t sinned in three days,” you quietly started to sob. “You need to do it for me, I need you, Eddie.”
His cock was really about to peek out of his boxer brief waistband now. Your friend could feel the precum leaking on the cotton, wondering how it would feel to get your wetness on it instead. So he ripped off his pants quickly before diving down to kiss your tears. “I know, we’ll get you there soon, promise. Can you open your legs a bit more for me, pretty girl?”
You did as he asked, your sobs subsiding as you felt pleasure again from the feeling of his fingers circling your clothed clit again. “Why did you take off your pants?” You breathed out. 
“You see how you’re so wet now, huh? Practically dripping all over my fingers just from one touch?” Eddie grabbed your right hand to gently place it on his stomach then drag it down to his achingly hard cock. “Well, this is how my body reacts to you and everything you’ve been doing tonight. So fucking beautiful, laying here in your pretty skirt — moaning my name any chance you got. It’s music to my ears, and my cock,” he chuckled out. 
The heat rose to your face quickly at the words, but then curiosity took over your mind, as you released your hand from his to squeeze the top of what he said you did to him. “We learned about this in health class,” you giggled as he started to groan above you. 
Eddie had to balance himself on the back of the couch since you were squeezing and rubbing your thumb against his head at all the right angles. The man could have finished right there if he didn’t remember that you were the one who really needed the help here. 
“What you’re touching r-right now, is the head, a-and fuck,” he wasn’t able to contain his moans now, nearly thrusting into your hand with each word. “It will feel good for you too if w-we just move positions a little.” 
“Are you in pain, Eddie?” 
“No, baby, your hand just feels really nice, like how you reacted to my own.” Truly, the man was in pain, the blood rushing through his cock was unbearable at the moment. So Eddie quickly held your face to start kissing you again, a feeling you both missed over the past few minutes. Then he moved his body downwards slightly, ensuring that your skirt was flipped up, and your cores were touching. The drenched cotton barrier added more pleasurable friction than you both would have thought. 
The stark contrast between your baby blue panties, to his black and red boxers, was such a beautiful juxtaposition. Representing the both of you, so different, yet still so complimentary. There was a reason why the Devil and Angel always stood at people’s shoulders, telling them what was right from wrong. They couldn’t stay away from one another — like you and Eddie have been since you began this friendship. 
“So this is what I felt earlier, I thought it was your leg,” you smiled into the kisses as your hands made a trail to reach for his mane. 
“That big, huh?” Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle before placing his lips on your pulse to make more marks. 
“Is it supposed to be this big? Is that a good thing?” 
“For some people, it’s a good thing. What about you?” He thrusted his hips upwards, applying pressure to your needy clit — making you gasp at the pleasure. 
After a momentary shock, you moved your hips like you normally do every night. But instead, it was on something that felt so much nicer against your folds than the sometimes too-soft pillow. “I think I like it big. So it fits on m-my sensitive place like a puzzle piece.” 
“You like how it feels, huh? It’s like your pussy is begging for more, Princess.” Eddie continued to rock against you, trying to find the rhythm that made you whimper louder with each move. 
“I do want more, please,” you moaned loudly as you felt Eddie’s hands move beneath your sweater. 
“So polite for me,” he said with gritted teeth, thrusting onto you harder. “Remember, baby, I said I would do all the work so you don’t need to do any sinning yourself, right?” 
You nodded quickly — only wanting him to continue talking to you with his teasingly deep voice, and use his hard cock on you all night. “S-sorry, I forgot. It just feels so-ahh.” Your friend started to massage your breasts under your sweater with one hand, flicking and squeezing your nipple to make you whimper more. 
“Shhh, keep your voice down. Your parents might hear that you’re sinning with the Devil. I don’t want you getting in more trouble this week.” Your pussy was sopping now, pulsing against the underside of his cock every few moments. The things he would do if he was able to be inside of you now. 
His voice, his fingers on your hard nipples, his mouth leaving kisses from your lips to your neck, his member hitting you at every perfect angle imaginable — you swear it was overwhelming. The feelings were so intense that you could nearly see stars as everything worked in tandem to get you closer and closer to your climax. No pillow would do you justice now. If you could have Eddie over every night to help sin for you, so that you would sleep like a rock afterwards: then you would be the most well-rested individual on this planet. 
“I like it when you tell me what to do,” you thought out loud. “That’s what I thought about all those nights I sinned,” if he said he was going to be your pillow, then you were going to tell him what it was like to be the feathery case. 
“Oh yeah?” He wasn’t able to comprehend the music in his ears. 
“Y-yes, like the voice you use when you ask me to pick something up for you, or to get into the car quickly. It’s so sweet but stern.” Eddie began to kiss you again, distracting you so he could easily bend your left leg higher, changing the angle he was thrusting against you with. The new position allowed his sensitive head to go from your entrance to your clit, so much better than what any pillow could do.
“Did you imagine that I was telling you what to do while you rode that pillow?” 
Eddie kept looking between your eyes and the place where your bodies met, making you look down as well. You moaned at the sight, everything was so slippery, and the pressure on your heat was so strong. You wished you could roll your hips with him, but it was too overwhelming to think about sinning some more. 
“Uh-huh,” you whimpered out. “And your hands too, guiding me to move faster and faster — just like now. I imagine all those times you helped me fix my skirt. You’re so nice to me, Eddie.” You kept your eyes on his as he smiled while drinking up your moans with his lips. “I wish you were there to help me get rid of my body aches every time.” 
“I do too, sweetheart. Every night I could’ve made you live out those fantasies. Like holding your hips to make you slow down,” Eddie did with his own movements in real life. “Or maybe I could grip even harder and move your pussy so much faster for you. It would leave bruises that will probably never heal.” 
“That’s okay,” you screamed as he started to kiss the tears that unknowingly left your eyes, while rubbing the head of his cock right against your clit. “I don’t want them to.” 
“You’re so wet for me, soaking your panties all this time, and you never told me. No pussy this beautiful should ever go deprived of what it wants most.” Eddie kissed down your neck and sat up on his knees again, anchoring himself a lot better now to massage your legs — a move you’ve been loving all night. 
He goes to touch your wetness with his fingers too, in between thrusts. Collecting some of it, then licking his fingers to get a taste of the sweet nectar he has always craved. “What are you doing?” You ask, his movements causing your insides to throb around nothingness. 
“Just having a taste,” Eddie nearly moans his words, memorizing the look of lust that filled your eyes as you watched him lick his fingers. “I’ve been dreaming about this moment since the day our lockers were placed next to each other. You were so beautiful with your hair that smelled so sweet, and t-these fucking skirts,” he said through gritted teeth, thrusting onto you slowly so he didn’t climax before you did tonight. 
“Your favourite is the one I have on now right? You always told me at some point during the day.” But, not today — you wanted to add. But everything he was doing to you now was more than compliment enough. 
“So short, so bouncy. I would ask you to pick things off the floor just so I can get a glimpse of whatever panties you were wearing.” 
“You're a pervert,” you giggled and moaned, trying to stroke your fingers up and down his stomach.
“And a sinner, baby, that’s why we’re here.” 
The man began to lift your sweater to show the planes of your stomach, making you gasp in the process once the cold air hit you. “Eddie, don’t take it off, please,” you pouted. 
“Sorry, I just want to see them quickly, is that alright?” You nodded before he continued his movements. “Do you ever touch these, all those nights you sinned?” 
You bit your lip at the topic of sinning again. “Yes, but only sometimes when I was lying down.” Right then, Eddie lifted your sweater just above your breasts, while simultaneously pushing the cups of your bra down so he could get a look at the hardened nipples. This is going to be an image he would remember forever: your heat nearly swallowing his hardness, your whimpers as you spoke, and the bounce of your tits with each one of his thrusts. Then there was the small crucifix that found its way between your breasts from all the twisting and turning tonight — you really were about to become the death of him. 
Your self-consciousness came back as you saw him pause to stare at you for a few moments, so you moved one of your arms to cover up. 
“You look so pretty like this, don’t be shy now.” He placed a hand on your wrist to shift it to the side, as he wanted to massage your breasts slowly again tonight. Your moans only became louder, not caring if your parents would hear. But, Eddie cared, so he kissed you to simmer down your noises. 
“Eddie,” you breathed out between a kiss. “Your mouth feels so nice on my neck, do you think it would feel good on my —”
You didn’t get the chance to finish the question of your curiousty before Eddie latched his lips on your left nipple. He licked and sucked one with his mouth, while he massaged the other with his large hands. It always felt best when he bit your nipple harshly every time you thrust your hips upwards to grind in tandem with his — he would say it’s your mini punishment for not letting him do all the sinning for you. But, you ask yourself again for what feels like the millionth time tonight: how could something that’s supposed to be bad feel so good? 
“You have the most beautiful tits, fuck,” Eddie breathed out while licking the pebbled nipples. “I always knew they would be gorgeous,” right then, he sucked on the skin hard enough to leave the newest mark on your skin, claiming you as his. 
“I think something is happening,” you moaned out, grasping on his hair to pull him closer to your flesh. 
The new combination of his lips on your chest, both of your cores rubbing against each other at the perfect angle, and one of his hands stroking up and down your sides to your thighs — made for your insides to start clenching towards something familiar. 
“You gonna come? I know you can do it, sweet girl. This is what you wanted for the past three days,” Eddie tried to contain himself, the excitement of your impending orgasm overtaking his body. He knew it was coming, since you would squeeze your thighs together and your cunt would throb every few thrusts. Your crying only made him want to release alongside with you. 
“Do you feel good, too, Eddie? I want to—” tears were streaming down your face now at the pleasure. 
“Don’t worry about me, trust, f-fuck,” he whimpered at how you got even wetter around him. So he focused his head on your clit again, going up to kiss your lips as you were about to reach your bliss. 
Once his hands were on your hips, gripping so hard that it would surely leave a bruise tomorrow, you felt yourself moan loudly into his mouth. The familiar feeling of relief was slowly getting to you now. Eddie moved faster and faster, finding the perfect rhythm where the friction of the fabric and his cock was massaging your folds beautifully. Then there was the way the fabric of his shirt felt against your sore breasts — adding to the way he was making your entire body shake.
With one last searing kiss, and you both moving your hips in tandem to the other, you came. Your pussy throbbing harshly, causing a loud whimper to escape your throat. For so many weeks you’ve been moaning into your pillow, biting your lip until it bled, or breathed deeply instead of making a noise. But with Eddie, you were able to let go, letting him hear just how much you loved his sinning for you. 
“Such pretty noises, baby,” Eddie says between kisses. “Does my cock feel good on you? Did I make you come?” 
“Y-yes, Eddie,” you cried out before whimpering again at the feeling of him above you moving with more pressure. With the sound of his name leaving your lips, it was time for Eddie to come undone.
So he did.
Moving harder against your now overly sensitive clit and folds. He knew you could take it, after relieving yourself multiple times a night in the past. The Dealer hissed as he released his seed inside his boxers, thrusting slowly as he let go completely. 
“So good for me, fuck, I’ve dreamed about this moment for so damn long.” Eddie’s voice was deep as he touched his forehead on yours. 
You both moved your hips slowly as you got down from your highs. He moved his hand to your face, wiping away some tears that he loved so much. “That was so much better than every single time I’ve used my pillow combined,” you breathed out quietly, your eyes nearly closing at the exhaustion of the entire day. 
“Next time, you’re gonna show me how you sin. Are you gonna invite me into your bedroom, sweetheart?” he teased. 
“N-no, that’s not allowed,” you said in slight panic, “I promised not to sin anymore, and my parents don’t let anyone come in my room.”
Eddie chuckled at your words, since you didn’t realize how you would have confessed to a priest about your transgressions if you weren’t so convinced that he did all the sinning for you; and the innuendo you added in at the end. “That’s too bad,” Eddie pouted with big eyes, jokingly. 
“Uh-hm, but maybe, if I ever feel the urge to want to be naughty then I’ll ask you to help me, since it helped you so much too, and that’s what friends do,” you sweetly repeated his words from earlier tonight. It made his heart feel warm, while it made Eddie’s brain and cock think about the next time this would happen. So, with a wide smile on his face, he kissed your lips deeply before making a trail of soft kisses down your neck and crumpled sweater. 
“So you want to do it again?” Eddie emphasized his question by fixing your clothing, but also thrusting up slowly one last time. 
You nodded, biting your lip while whimpering slightly at the movement. “Yes, I do,” you both wanted so badly to continue what just happened — whether it was tonight or for everyday for the rest of your lives, you didn’t care. 
“I’ll help you sin any time, sweetheart,” Eddie continued to place chaste kisses all over your face and neck. But just as you were about to moan as a response, the worst thing that could happen, did. 
The door to the basement opened loudly, with the sound of footsteps walking down the stairs following. You and Eddie looked at each other in a panic. He jumped off you quickly, grabbing his pants to throw on, not knowing where his belt was; but he didn’t care, there was no way your mother was about to catch him half-naked. She would probably throw holy water on him if she had the chance. 
On the other hand, you stood up from the couch after him, your legs feeling extremely wobbly as you began to walk towards the table you both were working on all night. Each step made you feel wetness that accumulated throughout the night, and you were so sensitive that the movement would make a quiet squelching sound. Once you finally stood at the table, whilst fixing your hair and reapplying lip gloss to your swollen mouth — your mother appeared, standing at the bottom of the stairs and looking out to you.
Her eyes darted from you standing at the table, looking slightly exhausted, to Eddie seated at the couch, his back to her and it looked like he was rummaging through his backpack. What hardworking students these two are, she thought — since it looks like you two were finished with the project and just wanted to wrap it up for the night. 
“How’s the project? I was just getting ready for bed and I saw Mr. Munson’s van still in the driveway,” she said with a slight yawn. 
“Yes, mom, we just finished working. Eddie and I just had to help each other on one thing before he had to go.” It wasn’t exactly a lie — but he was smirking from the couch to see how easily the little cover up was flowing out of your mouth. “Because that’s what friends do,” you whispered to yourself, but Eddie was able to hear the giggly tone. 
“Alright then, why don’t I help you clean up?” 
“No it’s alright, it should only take a few minutes—”
Eddie coughed once he got his pants quietly secured. “Honestly, I’m very good with my hands so it should be quick,” he said with a teasing smile and a wink in your direction. Although you were easily able to cover up the activities you two did a few minutes ago, there was no hiding how heat rose to your face at Eddie��s words. 
“Well, if the two of you are alright, then I guess I’ll just head to bed then,” your mother looked at you one last time to confirm if you needed help or not. 
“I’ll see him out when we’re finished, thank you, mom.” The sweet smile on your face was enough to make her head to bed with contentment. But, the smile quickly became more and more sinister as each step up the stairs got quieter. When the door was finally shut again, your legs were shaking out of anticipation, unsure if you were able to say the next set of words. So you turned to face Eddie again, thighs squeezed shut to subdue the ever present ache after your orgasm. 
The Devil and Angel on your shoulders were resting hand in hand now. Not nagging or taunting you every second in your head, telling you what was right from wrong, teasing you with what you should and shouldn’t want. Now, it was clear that there was a fine line between what was the holy thing to do and what wasn’t, because why would God make something so bad feel so good?
And so, with lust in your eyes and sinister swollen lips, you whispered loudly enough for it to echo along the walls of the basement and into Eddie’s eager ears, as he casually sat on the arm rest whilst staring at your ever-glowing figure. 
“Do you want to sin for me one more time before you go?” 
It was that night you realized: Sundays were for confession, Mondays were for committing your sins all over again.
-:-:-:-:-
taglist: @bbyhargrove // @delightfulwinnerdiplomatpalace // @littlemrsmunson // @lolalanaie // @nope-thanks
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ben-drowned-me · 3 months
Note
hi! could you write some general hc for Jeff and Toby? Also could you talk about more about your canon plsss?
✧.* gen jeff and toby headcanons
-aaa of course !! i love jeff and toby so much
for my canon, I like to think that i just kind of make the characters more real. For most of their original canon stories, or for the fanon versions of them, their characters are made to be just killing machines with a little bit of angst and the story of whatever caused it. I base them off my favourite versions of their stories (or combine), but i give them flaws and little quirks that make them into an actual character rather than a person. I also try to write in how they are all traumatized people because thats usually brushed off. I wouldn't mind going into more detail if you'd like :3
jeff the killer
 incredibly close with liu before everything went down, now he just feels guilty being around him
hardcore metal and punk fan. Screeching Weasel, Benighted, To The Grave. stuff like that
Has night terrors. Rooms with Ben because he's the only one who can calm him down when he awakes. 
Soft spot for animals (usually prefers cats but doesn't say anything to Smile)
Grew up in a very strict catholic family
Is the self-proclaimed "white boy" of the mansion but is hispanic
Pushes his emotions away until something really triggers him
When he finally gets triggered, it does not end well
Full breakdowns. Rage, Depression. He goes through all of it in the span of like 2 days. 
Everyone gives him space except Ben
No mirrors in his room. Avoids ones outside
phantom pain from the burns 
he looks absolutely atrocious. Probably the worst of all the creeps but to be fair he went through severe body trauma
For a grown man, he's on the skinner side 
still really fucking strong though
Can't sleep without noise. One of the reasons he rooms with Ben so much bc hes loud
Messy room. Does not clean, does not know where anything is
only really uses the top of his face to show emotion because he's scared of re-opening his mouth scars
He would spend hundreds of dollars at bath and body works but all the scents he picks up would clash so badly
the kind of guy to say no when someone asks for something but then get 3 of it
listens to british rap unironically
toby rogers
mentioned before, but hates waffles. Any classic breakfast food he dislikes but those are the worst
a collector. His room is filled with small little trinkets he's picked up. Has a rock or button collection
Probably the worst of the creeps emotionally
Was raised in a pretty toxic environment.. Never learned how to manage his emotions. Has too many of them and they change too often so he kind of just. explodes
Usually extreme rage or goes nonverbal
is autistic idc
very ! bad ! ptsd
nervous around male authoritative figures
initially refused to eat at the dinner table since it was a requirement of his fathers, but is getting better at it
soft spot for kids, will let sally dress him up and do his makeup
religious guilt though he was never religious
finds EJ to be very good company, he enjoys the atmosphere
speaking of EJ, he taught Toby a lot of medical care since he's not always available
sleeps on the floor pretty often
kind of an asshole sometimes
master of sarcasm tbh
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jeridandridge · 2 months
Text
Atomic
Jacob takes Melissa to a gay bar.
CW: Implications of religious trauma, internalized homophobia.
In the break room at Abbott Melissa sits tapping her boot on the floor while Janine jabbers on about the newest situation she wants Barbara’s guidance on. While the kid goes on and on the redhead sits at the table looking over her shoulder every so often at Jacob.
The younger teacher sits at the table with Janine nervously nibbling his sandwich. No one wants Melissa Schemmenti looking at them like they have a target on their back that they don’t know about.
“What?!” He shrugs almost irritated looking at the redhead.
Melissa shakes her head going back to her phone. “Nothin, kid. Just uh, come to my room after the bell.” With that she grabs her stuff and goes back to her class for the afternoon.
Dropping his sandwich the young teacher looks to Barbra with an agape mouth. The older woman holds up her hand gathering her things.
“I don’t know a thing, Jacob.”
In her classroom, Melissa sits at her desk getting back to the grading she was doing before lunch. She has five minutes until she has to get her kids from the lunch room, and in those five minutes she has to talk herself out of a panic attack.
She doesn’t know why she’s this way but she hates it. Her thoughts run wild about the topic. She’s old. She’s divorced. She’s not as thin as she once was. Who could want her? Who could want her when she’s not sure what she wants. The cross around her neck feels like it weighs a ton, enough to pull her down and down further and further into her somber thought. The thoughts only stop when her watch chimes alerting her it’s time to get the kids from the lunch room.
At the end of the day Jacob contemplates shimmying down the side of the school from his window so he doesn’t have to go see Melissa. He paces back and forth before he finally gives in. “I’ll go, I’ll go, I’ll go!” He huffs grabbing his bag and leaving his room.
The young teacher is too nervous to even give Mr. Morton a fake friendly smile as the man says hello to him, too afraid for his own life. Keeping his shoulders back he holds onto the strap of his bag tightly as he pokes his head into the redheads classroom.
“What’s your deal over there?” Melissa nods looking up from her desk as Jacob looks side to side and up at the ceiling.
“Just checking, making sure there aren’t any traps or surprises.”
“What are you talkin about, kid?” She rolls her eyes, “I just wanna talk to ya.”
Noting the serious tone shift in her voice, he comes in leaning against the kids desk across from Melissa. He’d never seen her look nervous like she does now, fingers fidgeting and no eye contact.
“Melissa, whatever you need to say, you can and I appreciate you feeling comfortable enough to tell me.” He explains gently. In reality he expected her to snap at him and say forget it, instead the redhead lets out a breath and motions for him to come closer as she gets up closing her classroom door.
The two teachers are quiet as they both stand closer to each other. Melissa can feel her heart beating against her ribcage and she gathers up the courage.
“Listen kid, I might give ya a hard time and tease and all that, but I do respect you.” She tells the young man. “And I think you can help me figure some things out.”
Jacob, for once, is at a loss for words.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinkin, after breaking it off with Gary and all,” she waves her hand, “and I think I also like women.” She finally lets it out, feeling instantly better.
Jacob smiles at his co worker feeling honored.
“Well first off thank you for telling me this very personal, inspirational info. Saying something like that out loud, it feels good doesn’t it?”
“It actually does,” she smiles. “It feels airy. But I guess I just wanna know how to start. I mean, I ain’t young anymore and catholic guilt is a bitch.” She shrugs.
“Let me ask you this,” he starts, “Do you want to explore, and get to know the real Melissa?”
“Yeah,” she shrugs. “That’s the point ain’t It?”
Jacob has to hide his smile, grin growing on his face. “Tell you what, Zach and I are going out this weekend, nothing crazy, just a bar. Why don’t you come with us?”
Melissa tries to come up with an excuse, she really does, her stomach is in knots at just the thought of a gay bar.
“Okay, but we ain’t telling anyone about this.” She points at him in a warning.
“But what abou-“
“No one, kid.” She cuts him off shooting him a look.
Jacob nods comparing himself. “I’ll email you the details.”
Saturday comes all too quickly for Melissa. After a day of trying to distract herself with cleaning and cooking, her house is spotless and she has four different dishes in her fridge big enough to feed a small army and even that doesn’t slow the clock down.
At nine o’clock she finds herself walking arm in arm with Jacob to the bar, Zach the sweet guy he is, behind them.
“Honey! They’re doing karaoke already!” He smiles looking over at the crowded karaoke stand in the corner.
Melissa looks around the dimly lit bar, spotting black lights, rainbows, and plenty of decor on the walls.
“Go on, honey, I’m sticking with Melissa tonight.” Jacob squeezes his hand before Zach goes off with a smile.
Melissa stands with her hand on her hip, her leather jacket, her armor not even able to give her the confidence she needs. feeling totally out of place in a bar like this not because it’s a gay bar, but because everyone’s so young she pats Jacob’s arm. “G’head, kid. I’ll be at the bar.”
If there’s one thing Melissa knows it’s where to find a nice bourbon or a crisp glass of wine. When Melissa saddles up to the bar she quirks a brow at the pretty woman behind it, toned arms on display and long hair in a pony tail.
“Hi gorgeous, what can I get for ya?” The bartender gives Melissa a smile that makes her stomach flip. The redhead knows how it works, she bartended in college herself, she knows bartenders flirt to get more tips.
“Bourbon neat, hon.” She orders with a friendly smiles.
Grabbing a glass the bartender fixes her drink sliding it over. “So, are you friends with Jacob? I saw you come in with him and I’ve never seen you before.” She smiles.
“You know Jacob?” Melissa quirks a brow, “That Jacob over there?”
“Yeah,” the bartender laughs with a nod. “Jacob Hill. We’re friends, sorta.”
“I give him crap, but he’s a good kid.” Melissa nods. “I’m surprised he’s friends with a,” she trails off looking at the woman, “toned, tattooed, twenty something.”
The bartender tips her head back in a laugh, leaning forward with her arms on the bar to get closer. “Thirty something actually. This is my bar.” She smiles. “What about you, gorgeous? How do you know Jacob?”
There’s that word again. It’s catches her off guard once more and this time the stunning woman is even closer, a warm, raspberry vanilla smell hits her nose. Suddenly the blaring music and the sounds of glasses clanking and chairs moving become too much on top of her thoughts.
“Woah, hey, you okay?” The bartender asks gently resting her hand on the redhead’s.
At the touch of the woman’s hand Melissa pulls away almost like a flame has grazed her skin.
“Sorry, sorry,” she shakes her head, “I’m-“
“Don’t sweat it,” the bartender smiles. “Hey maya!” She calls over her shoulder, “cover the bar for me. You, come with me,” she waves Melissa over as she comes out from behind the bar.
Melissa stands and follows the woman, almost drooling when she sees the tightest jeans known to mankind.
The bartender reaches back gently grabbing her hand. “I don’t normally do this, but since you’re Jacob’s friend I’ll make an exception,” she smiles leaning in towards Melissa’s ear.
Melissa’s breath hitches in her throat at the closeness of the woman. Through a hallway the woman opens up an office door revealing a pretty normal room with a few posters and a pride flag on the wall behind a desk.
“It can be a little too rowdy out there,” the bartender smiles handing her a cold water bottle from the fridge.
Sitting on a black leather couch Melissa sips the water hearing a muffled Blondie song from the outside, the beat almost as fast as her heart drumming against her ribcage.
She eyes the bartender who sits at her desk, arms above her head in a stretch.
“Sorry, hon. It’s been a weird time recently.” Melissa apologizes.
“No need to an apologize, gorgeous. I’m a bartender, I might as well be a therapist.” She jokes. “If you weren’t Jacob’s friend I wouldn’t have brought you back here to my secret lair.”
This gets a laugh out of Melissa. “Some lair, it’s not dark and mysterious or anything. And you don’t have to keep calling me that. I’m Melissa.” She finally shares.
“Nah, I’ll still call you gorgeous.” She smiles yet again, making Melissa’s heart jump. Sipping the water she shakes her head.
“I knew it’d be a gamble coming here.” She sighs. “I can’t even handle talking to a woman.” This makes the bartender frown.
“First time in a gay bar?” She asks, not a single note of judgement in her voice.
“Yeah,” Melissa nods. “Jacob convinced me to come even though I’m noneya business years too old to be here.”
The bartender sits back in her desk chair almost examining the redhead, making Melissa shift in her seat. She knows the woman sees right through her, soft eyes meeting hers.
“You know, one night I was here, it was a Tuesday,” the bartender starts softly, “There wasn’t much happening yet, it wasn’t even seven, and this old woman comes in with her great granddaughter. They both take a seat at the bar so I come over like always, and we start talking. The woman was 93 years old and you know what she said to me?”
Melissa sits with a small smile playing on her lips as she listens closely, shaking her head no, enthralled by the story.
“She said she just turned 93 and finally, after decades, had the courage to be her authentic self. Isn’t that beautiful?”
The question makes Melissa think. Really think. All her life she did her best to please others, stuck with tradition, and did her best to make her family proud despite trying to go against the grain as best she could.
“Yeah, it is beautiful.” She hums quietly parting her lips to speak again, only to be interrupted by the door opening.
“Hey, boss the ice machine is jammed again.” The other bartender pokes her head in.
“Alright,” the woman sighs, “I’ll be there in a minute.”
When the door closes again Melissa stands up, following the woman back into the hall towards the music and crowd.
“Listen, I’m pretty new at this sorta thing,” Melissa says shyly, not like herself. “But I’d like to talk to you more, get coffee or dinner sometime? doesn’t have to mean anything.” She adds quickly.
The bartender gives her a soft smile, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “When you’re ready, Melissa, you know where to find me.”
With a wink and a gentle squeeze, Melissa’s left standing in the doorway of the hall with a ridiculous smile on her face watching the woman spring into action.
She’d have to thank Jacob.
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novaacanee · 5 months
Text
To The Things I Can’t Control
Tumblr media
AlucardxBlack!Reader
Warnings: Canon typical violence, cursing, swearing, religious trauma, death, unhealthy coping skills, trauma in general, romance, fluff, eventual smut, reader is named Verena for my convenience (you can refer to her an y/n),this is my first time writing on tumblr I apologize for any formatting issues lol. ( very unedited too…)
To The Things I Can’t Control
Pt.1 || Pt.2
“To the things I can’t control, I hope you’re having a good laugh at the circumstance you have placed upon me. I hope you are throughly entertained. These people’s kids are some of the most insufferable people I have ever met. I have finally managed to escaped their harsh words and physical assaults. I want to leave forever when I am near them. “
Verena wrote into the journal splayed on the desk in front of her. The rain pattered loudly against the windows of her manor. A soft knock at the door distracted her from her journal. A head poked through the door with a smile encompassing their features. “Verena dear, we have someone we would like you to meet.”
The smaller girl closed her journal quickly. “Mother! I’m tired of meeting the rest of the council’s kids. They’re mean and annoying.” The girl groaned, dragging her feet as she made her way over to her mother. “Why can’t we just say I’m sick or something? I’m half human so they might actually believe it.”
The older woman, Verena’s mother couldn’t help but laugh at that comment. “As right as you may be, we have a duty to at least keep up appearances plus, I think you will like who I’m introducing you to. He’s very similar to you.” Verena couldn’t help but raise a brow. “How so?” “You’re gonna have to follow me to find out.”
The groan that left Verena’s lips couldn’t help but earn her a pinch on the arm. “Be nice, he’s already nervous as is.” Her mother says, grabbing her by the shoulders and leading her down the grand staircase.
The stairs lead into a rather gothic looking foyer. The chandelier at the center of the room shined dimly as they made their way to the bottom of the staircase. “Pleasure to meet you both finally. My name is Raine Bishop.” The older woman says, curtsing at the couple before her. “Do excuse our lateness. Verena, please introduce yourself.
Verena sent a side glance to her mother before repeating her previous actions. “It’s an honor to meet you all, my name is Verena Bishop.” She curtsied. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a boy hiding behind the legs of his parents. “Hello Verena! I’m Lisa Tepes and this is my husband Dracula and our son Adrian.” She hummed, pulling the shy boy from behind her.
The boy was slightly smaller is stature, his blond and hair and golden eyes shined brilliantly under the chandelier lights. His long hair braided and tied off with a ribbon. “H-Hello.” He ushered out quickly, bowing and backing up closer to his parents. Raine couldn’t help but smile at the shy boy while Verena on the other hand looked at him with a bit of a raised brow. Her eyes glanced at his parents before glancing back at him again. “What does meeting him have to do with me?” She thought, her thought spun around like a whirlpool before finally settling upon a reasonable answer.
“Oh Mother! I finally understand.” She smiled, accidentally pointing at the poor boy. “He’s like me isn’t he? I can’t remember the word. Not vampire but uh..” Raine pushed her finger down. “Verena it’s rude to point. Adrian is a Dhampir just like you. His Mother is Human and his Father is a Vampire.” She crouched down to Verena’s height. “He’s a year older than you so make sure to be respectful.” Adrian peeked from behind his hands when he heard Verena’s deduction.
From this point forward, Adrian and Verena spent the majority of their childhoods extremely close to one another. Verena showed him even her most lucrative of diary entries over the years even the ones about potential love interests she had at the time. The pair were basically attached at the hip.
Verena sat behind Adrian, brushing his hair into a ponytail in his bedroom. Carefully sectioning his hair, she begins the braid it. “You need to take better care of your hair Adrian. Me and your mother cannot do it for you all the time you know. At this rate, you’re going to be balding by 18.” Verena hums.
Adrian laughed heartily. “I won’t be balding any time soon but you’re probably right, I need to learn how to maintain myself. I don’t need the women in my life scolding me about it any longer.” He teased, playing with the lace at the bottom of Verena’s dress. “Keep talking and you’ll be bald way before you’re 18.” She smirked, finishing his braid and stepping back to see her handy work. “Very handsome, you look right out of a painting.” She hummed, placing a finger on her chin.
Adrian couldn’t help the crimson glow crawling its way onto his delicate features. “Shush.” He grumbled, attempting to walk past the girl. “You forget I’m taller than you Adrian. I can beat you up very easily.” The younger girl smirked, sticking her arm out to reveal little to no muscle mass what so ever. “Pfft yeah right. Your arm is so skinny it’s would snap in half like a tree branch if I pinched it.”
Event like these were frequent in nature. The pair would have sleepovers and play date with each other until they got too old (Raine was scared they would start getting romantically involved too early. She was right but it took like 7 years LOL)
It wasn’t until Verena’s 18th birthday that things turned for the worst. A few weeks prior to Lisa Tepes’s unfortunate end, the Bishop family would be raided by church officials. Verena could hear the footsteps of Clergymen echoed deeply through the halls of the extensive manor. Verena could feel the blood within her veins freezing as she stayed hidden, clutching a small dagger.
The screams of her mother were the last thing she heard before making her way into the closet. Her mind was cluttered with a mix of fear, anger, and grief. The walls beginning to feel as though they are closing in. Oxygen becoming more scarce by the second. Bloody tears streamed down her face, staining the silky fabric of her nightgown.
Her parents were executed by the church for being ‘A Devil Worshipper and a Vampire’. To save Verena, both went with the church willingly. The church rallied around the couple in glee, antagonizing them as the clergyman ended their lives with little regard.
After a few short moments, the sound crackling of flames could be heard. The priest rose from his spot and stood in front of his fellow clergymen and followers. He raised his hands in holy victory “Rest assured my brothers and sisters of the holy Church! Those sinful beasts known as the Bishops are now no more! Completely eradicated by the grace of our holy God. It is God, our lord and savior who has prevailed once again. In Jesus name, Amen!” Shouted the pastor, as a flood of Amen’s followed suit.
Verena darted towards the closest window she could, this being her only means of escape from the roaring blaze that became her home. Glass crackles under the weight of her shoes as she runs. Droplets of crimson blood forms droplets which land onto the floor below her. In the whirlwind of emotions, she narrowly escapes with her life.
She runs through the forest as fast as she can, branches wounding her as she brushed past them; tearing and ripping her once luxurious night wear. Ragged breathes escaped her lips as she ran blindly into the forest. The Estate that Verena knew so well was burned to the ground; reduced to nothing more than piles of ash and Debris. It became nothing more than a distant and painful memory.
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fireflysummers · 8 months
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Final Thoughts on GO S2
I'm probably gonna pull back on discussing S2, at least publicly, after this. I did actually like a lot of the season, but it's triggering some of my religious trauma and also the fandom is already stressing me out. So here, let's have some final thoughts.
First and foremost: I am not a Gaiman simp. I've read a decent amount of his work: comics, short stories, essays, and novels. Aside from Good Omens, I've liked Coraline and The Graveyard Book the best by far, whereas American Gods just. Did Not Connect with me, even though it's should have, given the stuff I tend to enjoy.
However. Regardless of whether I like a given work (or even like how he adapted it, a la parts of The Sandman TV series), he is a veteran writer who has proven that he does, actually, know how to write a story with consistent characters.
Beyond that, I do actually believe that he's trying to do right by Pratchett, and loves and respects the story and characters they created together. He's generally shown up as an ally to a variety of social causes, and directly and respectfully responds to fans on Tumblr. While no saint, I feel that there is cause to give the benefit of the doubt that things will resolve satisfyingly in S3, and that there is Intention about some of the things in S2.
This, of course, does not absolve it of being "bad," but even here I think we need to articulate better the different types of "bad" that people are reacting to. There seems to roughly be three camps here: 1) People who thought it was "bad" because of how it ended, with the breakup and a lot of unresolved plot threads; 2) People who thought it was "bad" because it struggled on a technical level with its set, lighting, directorial choices, editing, etc; 3) People who thought it was "bad" because they felt the characterization was significantly off and that the internal logic of the series had been violated.
With regards to Point One, the only solution is to Wait and See. Judgement should be reserved until the story is properly finished--easier said than done, especially considering the current media landscape, and the number of series or franchises that fail to live up to their promises.
Point Two isn't something I understand well enough to contribute meaningfully, except that I suspect the pandemic affected this aspect the most and am willing to give it a bit more mercy. That aside, I for the most part I don't find it bad so much as not as good as S1. Except for the parts with epilepsy warnings, surely there could've been a better way to do that.
Point Three... that's the stumbling block for me, and I find it interesting that most of the folks who struggle with this point in particular are long time fans of the book.
I trust that instinct.
There are two different directions to go from here. The first is the assumption that these problems are a result of ego, carelessness, or lack of skill from the showrunners/writers/director. It's cynical but not unjustified. The second is the belief that the breaks in lore or characterization were intentional, building towards a much grander conspiracy. Of course, even in this case I don't think it forgives the lack of signposting that would indicate that this is a choice rather than an accident. It just makes it feel clumsy and poorly constructed, a major risk on a show that hasn't had its third season confirmed.*
However, regardless, it still feels salvageable. I've enjoyed reading a lot of meta on all this, and I've pulled some things from others (particularly That Theory by @ariaste), but I don't really want to put forth a single, defined theory myself. Instead, here's some questions I've got, why those questions are important (to me, at least). Actual theorizing comes after, and anybody who snidely mentions Sherlock in the comments or tags is going to get auto-blocked. Like seriously, I'm aware that some stuff is a stretch, but it's fun??? To theorize????? And I'm here for me and my peace of mind rather than trying to argue a point.
*I have some suspicions here, particularly with Gaiman stating that the decision from Amazon would come much faster than The Sandman's second season (which was four months). I don't know enough though to say if that's actually significant.
Questions
Who the fuck is telling this story?
This is the most important piece, in my opinion. There's this assumption when reading books (or research papers, newspapers, etc...) that the narrator who is writing the words is a non-presence, Neutral and objective. That's not the case, and an important part of literature critique is figuring out who the narrator is, and what their goals are. Oftentimes, the narrator and the author are the same person, but with Pratchett's work, particularly on Good Omens and Discworld, the Narrator was its own unique character.
This is why people struggle adapting Discworld to live action--that medium requires a Reason for having a Narrator, and especially in the age of method acting that's often considered immersion-breaking. Good Omens worked so well because they not only kept the Narrator, but they made Her God.
This added some really interesting new dimensions, such as the scene where Crowley speaks to God about his fall and the destruction of humanity. He doesn't receive an answer, but we're watching from God's perspective, so we as the audience know that She's listening.
Another advantage of making God the Narrator is that it justifies all the goofy little asides we get into the lives of minor characters (i.e. Leslie the Mailman), without losing focus. It helps the world feel like it’s full of people, rather than characters and plot contrivances, and the theme that individual people and their choices are important. The Narrator is such a central character of Good Omens that without it, the story struggles to stay focused.
It also highlights a key difference in the writing styles of the two authors. Pratchett’s work tends to introduce four or five totally unique plot threads that feel completely disjointed until the last act (if not even later), when it turns into a Chekhov’s Firing Squad. Plot twists around secret identities and backstabbing and schemes are relatively rare, as the omniscient Narrator doesn’t lie about the intentions of people or their actions.
Gaiman’s writing is typically not like that, to my knowledge. He buries characters in misdirection and hints, and you never know the true identity or motives until all the chips are down. It’s a perfectly valid way to approach storytelling, but it makes it jarring to see it in S2. The lack of a Narrator is a huge reason why S2 doesn’t feel like Good Omens to some folks.
My gut feeling is that the decision to shift from the original Narrator was highly intentional. It helps to obscure the thoughts and intentions of people, and it also muddles the insights that we’re supposed to take away. (I would have loved hearing God monologue about what’s going on in Jim’s head. I think it’d do a lot to make him seem less.... obnoxiously stupid.)
More than that, it brings up a reasonable potential plot point of: Where did God go? Why isn’t She present in the story? Even in her early appearance in the Job flashback, she doesn’t sound like the narrator for last season. After the first part of her speech (which Gabriel later quotes), her tone turns casual and condescending, which might line up with her being a bit of an asshole, it doesn’t line up with the whole “dealer of a mysterious card game who is always smiling”).
Also, I don’t think it’s safe to assume that nobody is telling the story either. Just because they’re not making their presence known doesn’t mean they aren’t there, and in a story like Good Omens, that’s concerning.
Wait, where's Satan?
Another person I saw while scrolling the tags pointed out that Satan is nowhere to be seen this season. He's really only mentioned in reference to a bet God made in Job, but then Crowley is the one on the ground causing mischief. There's no Hail Satan among demons (like Hastur and Ligur did at the start of S1).
That's might be because the writers didn't want us to think it was important (a la Hastur), but that feels off. Given that Satan speaks directly through the radio to Crowley in S1, complimenting him on his work, it's safe to say that he was at least aware of and involved in the goings-on in Hell. The fact that he wasn't even an worry for Beelzebub in abandoning their post? Feels weird.
(Also if you know where that post is, I'll happy credit + link)
What is Maggie?
Look, I love cute lesbians in love as much as the next queer, but I don't like Maggie. I don’t think she’s a person. Contextually, she’s a plot device, but I agree with That Essay that she might be an actual Plot Device.
Her characterization is simple and relatively shallow—a bit of an airhead, ray of sunshine that’s supposed to remind you of Aziraphale. When she describes her past to Nina, it’s almost robotic (also, her story implies it was Mr. Fell who first rented to her ancestor, not Mr. Fell’s great-grandfather like Nina implied). Her emotions are over-dramatic and seem to be turned on and off at random (scenes with her crying to Aziraphale about her woes had my “manipulator” senses going off for some reason).
When asked about a song, she not only IDs the song, its singer, and its year, but how and on what it was distributed. (Honestly thought this would’ve been something interesting, because she’s been pretty ditzy so far, it’d be interesting if she had like... an insane memory for music history.) And then she’s the one that sets Aziraphale on his little investigation by giving him the transformed records, while also planting the seed about her love troubles with Nina. Later, her advice to Crowley is... not awful, but feels insincere and a bit too forward, given her own self-proclaimed lack of relationship experience.
I don’t know what she is (a demon, hastur with amnesia in disguise, a literal plot device inserted by the current storyteller, etc...), but there’s something not right with her.
(Also the joke of “who listens to records anymore, it’s so old fashioned” just doesn’t land, lots of people buy records, and I’m saying this as somebody who has worked at a record store before.)
What's going on with Aziraphale?
There’s something Off about Aziraphale, and it’s not his choices at the end of the season. That makes total sense if you read him as somebody with severe religious trauma getting dragged back into the abusive system because other people need him and he’s been promised the ability to change things.
But I do think something is happening to his memory. Nearly all the flashbacks are from Aziraphale’s point of view and retelling, which means that they’re less reliable than God’s version of events in the previous season. Many of them don’t make logistical sense (post-church scene in 1941), depict Crowley as meaner or more sinister than we know he is, or frame events... weirdly. The scene with him trying food for the first time feels Really Bad, especially when the series has previously established that he’s a) prim and proper and b) his interest in food is one of the beautiful things that connect him to humanity, not some kind of gluttonous sin. Also he turns down alcohol.
Their meet-cute at the  start of the universe also doesn’t line up with their reactions to each other in Eden, or the fact that knowing each other Before has never come up or been hinted at anywhere ever. I don’t know what’s causing this to happen, only that Aziraphale repeatedly looks pensive when coming out of flashbacks, and Crowley is never there afterwards to corroborate said memories.
His actions also seem pretty inconsistent with what we know of him—i.e. I refuse to believe he would ever mistreat his books, even if they’re just old encyclopedias. Also, he feels a bit too...forceful in trying to get Nina and Maggie to fall in love? I mean, he didn’t exert that much direct influence on even Warlock, when he was actively hoping that the boy would turn out angelic rather than neutral.
I don’t think this removes his agency in that last decision, so much as explains how he was in such a vulnerable place at all. He still needs to apologize and fix things, because he messed up, and even if he hadn’t he still seriously hurt Crowley.
What's going on with Crowley?
There’s something Off about Crowley. The most obvious thing, of course, is his memories. At multiple points in the present day, characters state that they remember him or have met him before, only to be met with confusion. This is especially concerning given that he has a nigh photographic memory for faces (something mentioned in the book when he immediately IDs Mary Loquacious, 11 years after a 30 second conversation).
Overall, he seems to be better known by other supernatural entities this season, in ways that often tie him back to his angelic identity (i.e. saying they fought together in the war, Aziraphale stating he knew the angel he used to be, etc...). This doesn’t feel right, because S1 we see that Hell is largely apathetic towards his schemes, and definitely does not defer to him at any point in any capacity.
Then there’s the issue of his power level. It’s always been speculated that Crowley was a powerful angel prior to falling, when he mentions in S1 his involvement with star making, his seemingly unique ability to freeze time, and creating a pocket universe for Adam before the confrontation with Satan. He also has a tendency of breathing life into inanimate objects, like his plants or car. He also has the regular demonic skillset: miracles that can adjust physical appearance; the ability to change inanimate objects (like paintball guns into real guns); the ability to manifest clothing and similar items; and summon hellfire to his fingertips. This, plus the way he monologues to God with a degree of familiarity rather than reverence seems to indicate that he was Somebody Powerful and Important Before.
But in S2, his skills are significantly expanded upon. The miracle he and Aziraphale summon sets off alarms in heaven and hell, and it’s powerful enough to mask Gabriel from the Archangels. He summons a miniature sun to rain fire on Job, which is way bigger and flashier than anything we’ve seen him summon in S1. (If he needs fire, he alters the course of a dropping bomb, without creating one himself.)
Yet he’s able to cloak his presence so well he goes wholly unnoticed in heaven, or in front of heavenly agents on earth (i.e. the Job flashback). Muriel can’t clock him as a demon, or even as another supernatural being, despite their auras usually being pretty significant, such Aziraphale immediately sensing the archangels when they arrive.  He’s able to interfere with files that Muriel claimed required clearance (although I feel like that might just be a snark about Obeying Without Thinking? I would really need a Narrator to know.)
I might be misremembering, but I don’t think we’ve seen angels or demons transmogrify living beings before either. In the book, Crowley brings Aziraphale’s dove back to life after the failed magic show, and occasionally sinks ducks, but he doesn’t alter them? Not even Adam demonstrates that skill in S1. But he has no trouble turning Job’s children into lizards, however temporarily. Boy that would’ve been convenient during the flood. Or when the guard stopped then from getting to the air strip.
I might be misremembering, but I don’t think we’ve seen angels or demons transmogrify living beings before either. In the book, Crowley brings Aziraphale’s dove back to life after the failed magic show, and occasionally sinks ducks, but he doesn’t alter them? Not even Adam demonstrates that skill in S1. But he has no trouble turning Job’s children into lizards, however temporarily. Boy that would’ve been convenient during the flood. Or when the guard stopped then from getting to the air strip.
I don’t have any real issues with his characterization in the present day parts of S2, but there’s something weird happening with Crowley.
Where's all the people?
I really like a lot of the new characters, but how were there only like, 2.5 new humans named in the present day? Flashbacks don’t count bc the humans are all dead and can’t affect the story.
As much as I like Nina, she and Maggie don’t drive the story beyond being an occasional and awkwardly inserted plot contrivance? Both are actively robbed of their agency at several points, forced into situations that they could not have avoided or escaped. I’m not really sure what growth they’re expected to experience other than deciding not to date each other after everything. I literally can’t tell you anything about Nina other than that she remembers her regular’s orders, runs a coffee shop, and has a textbook abusive partner we never see. The only meaningful interactions they have are between those two, or in conversation with Aziraphale and Crowley.
Compare that to S1, where Anathema gets hit by Aziraphale and Crowley, but her primary relationships are with Newt, Adam, and Agnes Nutter (I think that counts as a relationship). We know that she’s got a wealthy family back in Puerto Rico, and that she was literally raised to save the world, and that she isn’t happy under all that pressure. Newt on the other hand is connected to not just Anathema, but Shadwell and Madame Tracy. He never even directly interacts with Aziraphale and Crowley. We know about his hobbies, his struggle to hold down a job, and his almost supernatural ability to destroy any electronics he touches. I don’t necessarily like how their relationship came together, but they were both very, very well fleshed out characters with unique backstories and goals. They weren’t just... waiting around to give Aziraphale and Crowley a new questline.
And while there’s no requirement to include a large cast of human characters that are exerting influence over the story, the lack of it is another aspect that makes this season feel not like Good Omens.
Also, it's just. Really weird to me that the events of S1 aren't really referenced at all? Like, Adam isn't mentioned, nor is Warlock. I don't expect them to keep track of the humans they met on the airfield for 20 minutes, but none of it is ever specifically referenced as far as I can tell, beyond Crowley threatening Gabriel. Like, I get that it's been a few years, but the pair caused a big enough disturbance that you'd expect some kind of ripples in their supernatural communities.
Promised by the Narrative (Obvious Chekhov's guns that I will be legitimately upset over if they do not go off)
A sincere apology from Aziraphale to Crowley that doesn't come with the expectation that Crowley will come back to him, but because he deserves an apology, even if the choices Aziraphale made were done with good intentions. Aziraphale does not expect forgiveness, and is shocked when Crowley grants it without hesitation.
A clear declaration of love from Aziraphale, which can't be rationalized away by either of them.
An "I'm Sorry" dance between Aziraphale and Crowley, but with greater sincerity and gravity. The most important piece is that they end up dancing together, which signifies a mutual apology and dedication to come together.
Since kissing is on the table, I expect an actual joyful, mutual kiss between these two assholes.
A shared cottage in South Downs.
Predictions/Theories (just some fun thoughts I've had)
When Adam declared that Satan was not his father, he didn't make himself not the antichrist, but accidentally crowned his human dad the King of Hell. Nobody knows this, because Adam doesn't have a good measure for "normal" supernatural situations, and Mr. Young because he's so "normal" that he explains away all the magical bullshit that's started going down.
When Adam declared that Satan was not his father, he erased Satan altogether. However, this left a vacuum in both power and reality. The defection of both Gabriel and Beelzebub only widens that crack. In an attempt to Fix things, reality is warping the story. Crowley has become leagues more powerful between S1 and S2, as the narrative is trying to force him into the role of his previous boss. Aziraphale is unknowingly being pulled into a similar version on the Other Side, perhaps to replace Gabriel or perhaps to replace God herself, who has been fairly absent in all this. The alterations to their memories or past have come about to keep the narrative running smoothly.
When the Metatron asks Nina whether anybody has ever asked for death, he was actually referring to Death, the sole remaining rider of the apocalypse.
If Maggie is indeed a Plot Device, it would be a fascinating exploration of Free Will to see her become aware of this (cue existential crisis), and then fall in love with Nina on her own terms, rather than because she was written that way.
Hastur will be back. Somehow.
The reason why S2 focuses so much on the supernatural characters is because S3 will be about how the events in S1 have changed the political landscape of heaven and hell. Angels are questioning their roles, demons are yearning for something more. It's scaring upper administration, and then the two most reliable folks in employment run away to alpha centauri. Recruiting Aziraphale and getting him back in line prevents him from becoming a martyr, control the range of his influence. The series reasserts its theme of choice and agency by highlighting that Aziraphale and Crowley aren't that special, they've just had the chance to live and grow, and that the others have free will too, if they want it.
The reason why they wanted to separate Aziraphale and Crowley, is not to get Aziraphale on his own, but to get Crowley on his own. He literally stopped time and made a pocket universe in front of Satan last season. He's powerful and dangerous and somebody wants to see that reigned in.
Wishlist (stuff I desperately want to see)
Crowley getting an audience with God and an opportunity to ask his questions, only to refuse to do so because he's found his own Answers and he no longer needs hers
Aziraphale and Crowley growing more into their book incarnations. Aziraphale becomes confident in his sense of morality, which he developed the hard way through millennia on earth besides humanity. He slowly learns what it means to be loved, unconditionally, but also is better at asserting and maintaining his boundaries. Crowley, still anxious and unwinding, works through his fear of abandonment, providing him opportunities to be kind and gentle and nurturing--all traits that he's aggressively hid since being a demon.
Hand holding. I know that Gaiman was referring to Ineffable Bureaucracy, but I still feel like we'd benefit from meaningful hand holding, especially since that got cut from the adaptation of the book.
Shifted focus away from the supernatural shenanigans, and back onto the humans that actually drive the story.
Cameos from S1 characters (if not a more substantial appearance).
The Four Other Riders of the Apocalypse.
Cursed Thoughts (why I shouldn't be allowed a social platform)
Ineffable Bureaucracy turns up in season 3 because Beelzebub got Gabriel pregnant somehow.
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