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mochatsin · 8 months

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WHEN THEY FEEL THEIR SINS ON MC

You’re a human, a vessel of various emotions and feelings. You’re far different from the brother’s who’s more affected by their own respective sins that dominate their emotions and personality. But being the avatars of their own sins, that means they can sense it on other demons and humans. You're no exception.

this is just a silly little thing stuck in my head. so just imagine if gluttony demons can feel other people's hunger or if a wrath demon can feel other's anger. enjoy !!

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Lucifer

As much as you try to hide it, Lucifer knows very well when he can feel the pride from you. At first it irritated him, especially when pride is imminent whenever you successfully forge a pact with his brothers. He saw that sense of pride as a threat to his loved ones when he had no clue why you needed to forge pacts.

But when he gets to know you and your intentions better, he knows that this kind of pride comes from a good place like trying to fix his family. Afterall he can’t blame you for feeling that way when you’re able to bring the seven rulers to their knees. He’s thankful you never abused this power though or he would regret his decision of making a pact with you.

Whenever you get a good grade in class, cast a powerful spell all on your own, or do a simple task any demon would see as small and easy, he feels how proud and happy you are when you accomplish anything that he could do with a single snap.

He has to remember that you’re a human, and doing what demons can normally do is something you’re allowed to take pride in.

Feeling pride means he can also tell if it gets damaged. There was a time you were excited to show one of the brothers this spell you worked hard in practicing, but when Mammon said “Eh? That’s such a basic level though.” He didn’t mean to sound insensitive, but words slipped and Lucifer could tell you were hurt deeply.

Lucifer immediately intervenes and scolds his brothers who undermine your efforts. “They’re a human who had little to no knowledge about magic until coming here to Devildom. Don’t speak to them that way or else.”

He would then turn to you with a gentle look in his eyes “MC, trust me when I say I was very impressed. I know you will become a powerful sorcerer. My brothers could use you as a role model to work harder themselves.” And you do become great with magic… really fast that it’s kind of scary.

When you show him a test you did well in, you were nervous at first since you know that Lucifer probably had perfect marks in it. Though he looks at you with a smile before congratulating you. He even offered to take you out for a treat as a reward.

He adores feeling the pride grow whenever he, the most powerful of the seven rulers, would compliment you and your hard work. He makes an effort to acknowledge you afterwards. Whether it’s pitching a good idea or doing well in a subject you struggled in.

Absolutely loves knowing that you take pride when you see the brothers are getting along well. Lucifer knows that things have been less chaotic now that he has you by his side as war-level arguments are not as frequent these days. He knows things wouldn’t be like this without you around and he likes the influence you have on his brothers. You deserve to be proud of that.

Mammon

He is the embodiment of Greed and no one can ever compare to him, not when his sin has completely taken over him and his actions as everything he wants to do involves around the concept of getting rich regardless of the method.

He was willing to bribe, hag, and steal if it meant he got his hands on what he wanted. It’s how his Greed works and he can’t control it.

The surprise he feels whenever there’s a sudden strong aura of sin coming from you, he’s never prepared for it at all. It happened the first time when he and Asmo took you to the mall, and he felt the greed from you.

You didn’t seem like the kind of person who would want material things, but maybe it’s fair when you’re surrounded by all these new and foreign products you can’t find in the human realm.

You were staring at this well-crafted piece of jewelry, it was unlike anything you’ve seen in the human world and it was enchanting the way it glistens. Its glitters would dance inside like a galaxy of stars encapsulated in such a beautiful glass of your favorite color. You’re drawn to it. You want it.

Though when Mammon asks you “something caught yer eye over there?” You turn to him with a small smile before shaking your head. You know you can’t afford it yet and you try to move on to forget about it.

It astonishes him that you don’t succumb to this greed despite how strong he can feel it from you. The self-control is admirable but he knows how sometimes it can eat him up inside, he can hardly imagine how you can walk away from it.

Mammon tries to drag you and Asmo in the store where he feels your greed is strongest. He basically uses this sixth sense of his like a detector, where he keeps an eye on you whenever that sudden desire rises up and he inspects which one it is.

You wondered where he’s been off to whenever classes end until Beel tells you that he spotted him working in Hell’s kitchen once. Maybe he was trying to pay off some debt, since you saw Levi chasing him around the house the other day.

Much to your surprise, you find Mammon by your door with the jewelry you were admiring the other day at hand as a gift. To Mammon, the big smile on your face was worth the blackhole in his pockets.

You asked him why he would buy you something so expensive, but most importantly how would he have known you wanted this. You never told anyone after all. Mammon starts turning red, because there’s no way he can admit that he felt your Greed. So he’ll keep that secret for himself.

He starts taking note whenever you start feeling Greed. They don’t happen as often but when it does, he’d want to see what caught your attention. It’s through these that he learns what were the things you like. It’s an upper hand he has against his brothers to know what's the perfect gift to you, but of course most of the time he can’t afford it anyways.

Levi

Levi’s envy is the most evident when it involves his interests. If his brothers do better in school? Sports? Style? He wouldn’t really care about such things because it’s just not his thing. But whenever there’s a new wave of Ruri-chan merchandise and he doesn’t get it first, you can expect him to be sulking and throwing a fit on the group chat.

He’s caught off guard when you were out in the mall one day and while you were trying to buy the latest album of your favorite band, you saw that some other demon already got the last copy.

The aura of envy was gradual and faint, but when that demon who got the copy gave you a nasty look, the spike of emotions was overwhelming for the otaku.

He knows how envy is something he can feel from other demons, he always felt that when Asmo can’t get his hands on a new beauty product, or even with Beel when any of the brothers have the last extra cookie. But this is the first time in ages that he felt it’s been that strong coming from you.

You were the last person he expected to feel this way, especially when you turned back to him with a smile. You tell him that you’ll just get a copy when the new batch releases but he definitely knows it's not okay. You waited for this for so long after all.

Perhaps he could get you what you wanted on Akuzon? With the help of Satan’s connections of course. Levi never wants you to sit with such an uncomfortable feeling, he knows well how it’s hard to hold envy in. You indulge in his interests, he might as well do the same for you.

When that envy is directed towards another person, whether it's a demon or anyone else, he’d try to be comforting since none of his brothers can feel what you do. Unlike demons, humans are better at suppressing these sorts of emotions.

Some demon is taller and has a better build than you? The other has better grades or better hair? It irritates you often and Levi can feel it. But when that envy starts turning into a form of insecurity then you best bet that he’s the first one to notice and try to do something about it.

“M-MC um… I know I don't say this a lot but, I'm glad you’re my player two. T-the… best one I could ask for and— AGH DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!!!”

Giving you compliments is hard for him, and trying to not stutter with every word proved to be more difficult. But feeling the envy slowly disappear and seeing that smile on your face was worth it. He reminds himself that it’s for the sake of your self-esteem, he won’t allow you to look down on yourself!!

Satan

It took him many years and human lifespans to be able to master this kind of calm. For a demon that only knew rage, it was difficult for him to be able to control it. The amount of work it took for him to be the calm and respectable person that he is today, you can’t even imagine.

Though most of the time, that well built persona of his slips out and that monster gets unleashed. When that does happen, it’s very hard for him to control himself. Up to the point you or the brothers would have to intervene to stop him from ripping someone apart.

He’s calm, but inside he could feel the burning rage all the time. The wrath cannot compare to other demons, but there was one time that it did and it shocked him to feel such intensity radiating from someone else.

You were in the middle of doing a project that involves drawing a summoning circle for class. Satan was your partner and you were in charge of drawing the outlines for now while he studied the symbols needed for the summoning.

It was going great until one of your classmates bumped onto your table, making your steady hand accidentally draw against the whole circle. You’re gonna have to redraw the outlines again just when you are about to finish. The demon saw the irritated look on your face and scoffed.

“Not my fault you were in the way.” the demon would reply and leave. Satan was irritated of course, but he felt the sudden surge of rage from you. Like a match tossed onto gasoline, it burns through your soul. Though you were still calm on the outside because the last thing you need is to pick a fight.

He would pat your shoulder “MC, are you feeling… alright?” you would turn to him with such a gentle smile and say that everything is fine, but the rage was still there that your smile and words was kind of unsettling to him.

Your wrath does not compare to him of course, but you were the last person he’d expect to feel this kind of burning fire since you’re so sweet and patient all the time. He wonders if this is why you were able to empathize with him whenever he struggles controlling his rage. Maybe you two are more alike than he realizes. So he helps you calm down and redo everything.

A few minutes after what happened, you could see that the demon from earlier accidentally summoned a colony of fire ants instead of what was actually assigned, and he was punished by getting rid of every ant with his bare hands. No magic.

Satan just smiles, maybe a certain someone must’ve written their symbols all wrong. He doesn’t play dirty tricks like this in class often, but he wouldn’t mind if it would help quench your wrath down. Though he reminds you to be more honest to him if you’re feeling upset about anything.

He becomes more observant on your wrath levels, taking note of what ticks you off and when he should take you away from the situation or if he should intervene. Insensitive jokes? Bad day? Mammon stealing your things again? Satan is there to make sure you don’t tear something apart (as tempting as that image may be).

Asmo

What frustrated Asmo at first was that his charms never seemed to work on you. Regardless of his magic or dashing looks, you remain unfazed and he wonders why. Demons or humans, all would be dancing at the palm of his fingers by now!

That doesn’t mean he isn’t going to keep trying though, it just fuels his excitement when he thinks about what he can do just to see that flustered look on your face.

Sometimes he’s in a slump when one of his advances fails again. None of his brothers offered useful advice and he’s the Avatar of Lust! He should know every play in the book because one of them is bound to work.

One day while you and the brothers were watching a movie in the living room, he was able to sense a waft of lust in the room and his eyes frantically searched for the source. Oh to his surprise to see that it was coming from you.

The Lust comes from attraction, and a certain scene from this movie stirred up some feelings. You’re quiet about it and focused on the film, unaware that Asmo now has his eyes on you.

He started becoming more observant to the times he feels that faint aura. When this character in the film said some sweet romantic words, or maybe even something bold and daring, Asmo would pick up on those cues.

From then on he would mimic the moves that would make you swoon and there is a devious smirk on his face whenever they work. He knows what are the right buttons to push and he’s loving every single reaction he gets from you.

As fun as this is, he does love how he learns more about the new things you like. He finds out what pet names you like just and which love language you prefer, all by observing how strong your aura gets. Sometimes when he just does something sweet for you, he would feel the butterflies.

Given the kind demons he’s surrounded himself with, he only found out his senses aren’t just limited to sexual desire. It counts for attraction and he feels that more often when he’s around you. It’s a new and strange sensation, but it was welcomed.

“You look absolutely stunning today sweetheart” he would always tell you every morning to feel those butterflies again. It’s a good mood booster for the both of you.

If you’re at that point where you’re comfortable being intimate with him, Asmo would definitely use this sense like a meter to know when’s the best time to ask for kisses and… maybe something more.

Beel

It’s an understatement to say that Beel is just “hungry all the time.” He’s famished, with a never ending appetite and constant demand for food.

When he goes too long without it, you can say that for a moment, he becomes Wrath. Though it doesn’t compare to Satan’s rampages, it still does quite a lot of property damage accompanied with a large bill and a 3 hour lecture from Lucifer.

He never really pays attention when he feels the hunger from other demons whenever he would eat a meal meant for 5 people. Though he wondered why he never felt that from you when you first came down here in Devildom.

It was only when you both visited purgatory hall did he feel the hunger from you when you saw all the baked goods Luke made for a taste testing session. It was the kind of hunger where he could say that your mouth would've been watering if you let it.

He practices some restraint and lets you take the first few cupcakes and sugar cookies. As hungry as he was, he wanted you to enjoy it first because he knows that the moment he picks up a tray of sweets, it’s gone in a matter of seconds.

Despite your hunger, you noticed how he’s staring at you (or the food) so intently and decided to offer him a cupcake. That made him look at you confusingly, why would you offer him the food you seem to be craving for so much?

“MC… do you not like the food in Devildom?” He asks since your Gluttony has never been this strong before “I guess it’s just that I haven't seen you enjoy food like this when we eat our dinners at the house.”

After you explained, it’s only then that he realized that because a lot of the food and ingredients were so foreign (and unsafe), it never triggered your appetite.

He can’t really blame you when the menu consists of bat wings, bufo toads, and more creatures that would sound unappealing for a human. He never noticed the loss of appetite since he was too busy stuffing his own mouth with food.

Beel took note whenever your hunger is satiated so he’d know what kind of food you’d want to eat. He also finds out which ones aren’t your fancy. Sweets treats? Savory things? Spicy ones? Beel will know which one you’re a glutton for. Would probably inform Lucifer to make sure some of your meals accommodate your tastes while staying here.

Whenever he notices that you’re hungry, Beel would take you to certain restaurants (which is safe for humans) that he thinks you might like once he knows what your tastes are. He likes seeing the happy smile on your face when you eat something delicious.

Beel tries to avoid eating the things that you like since he can really just eat anything else. You deserve to eat your comfort foods after all! But in the event that he does, accident or not, he’ll apologize to you nonstop.

Belphie

You would say that he could sense any sort of laziness radiating from demons, but he’s always asleep in the attic to even notice it. He’s aware of it regardless but it’s never really useful.

Belphie felt it the most in this house whenever he would pass by Lucifer’s office. Always radiating with fatigue it’s almost infectious, though Belphie doesn’t really care much. It’s what he gets for working with Diavolo.

However, there was one time he went down the kitchen to get some water and found you by the living room staying up to study. The coffee that Satan made for you wasn’t really working anymore and you’re the only one left in the living room trying to study.

He felt how sluggish and heavy your aura was as you desperately tried to stay awake. There was a test upcoming and you wanted to learn all that you could, but it’s not working anymore and Belphie knew that when he walked up to you.

“You know you’re not gonna get anything done at this point… it’s late, come on let's go to bed” normally you would decline his offer to sleep, but since you were so tired you agreed. You both slept peacefully in your room and he could tell that you were more energized than last night.

Belphie started taking note of the times you’re feeling a little sleepy or lazy. Most of which happens in one of the classes you’re not really interested in. If not that, then it’s the amount of work you have to do as a human exchange representative or as someone babysitting seven demons. You need a break.

He would be the one to remind you to rest if the sluggish aura around you was getting stronger. Belphie would always be the first to know that you’re tired before you could even realize it yourself, and in the end he’s always right.

Whenever you have chores to do but are too tired, Belphie would ask (or nag) one of the brothers to do it for you. They have a hard time saying no if Belphie says it's for your sake. Most of the time it’s true, though he would sometimes use it as an excuse to get out of his own chores too.

He noticed that you don’t really decline when you’re tired every time he asks you to nap with him. It’s a window of opportunity and he’s going to exploit it if that means you both get to cuddle up together in the attic or in your room. It’s a win for the both of you.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

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gatheringbones · 13 days

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robert f. reid-pharr, from living as a lesbian, from Sister & Brother: Lesbians and Gay Men Write About Their Lives Together, 1994

["In 1985 Barbara Smith came like a fresh wind into Chapel Hill. She brought with her a vision of home unlike anything I ever had imagined. It was then that I began the process of being a lesbian. It is only recently that I began to understand lesbianism as a state of being that few of us ever achieve. To become lesbian one has to first be committed to the process of constantly becoming, of creatively refashioning ones humanity as a matter of course.

Coda

By becoming a lesbian, I have done nothing more nor less than become myself.

I had expected to end this piece with these words, forcing all of us, myself included, to reevaluate what it means to be labeled lesbian, gay, straight, bi, transgendered, asexual. And yet, this is not enough. For even as I recognize the difficulty of giving definition and meaning to our various identities, I also realize that as I struggle to lay claim to my lesbianism I am always confronted with the reality of my own masculinity, this strange and complex identity that I continue to have difficulty recognizing as privilege.

It was a Friday afternoon in September when I had my first bathhouse experience. I'm not sure what I expected, or wanted. In truth, I was compelled more than anything else by Samuel Delany's description in The Motion of Light in Water of his visit to the St. Mark's Baths in the early sixties. I thought that it would be exciting, that perhaps within this outlaws' territory I could throw off the stifling fears and anxieties that shape and constrain our lives, sexual and otherwise. I even felt that, given the name of the enterprise I was about to visit— "baths"— there had to be something intrinsically cleansing and healing about it.

Now I find myself asking if in the bathhouse— the most sacred of male enclaves, where my masculine body and affected macho style increase my worth in the sexual economy— I am still lesbian. Is it lesbianism that spills out of the end of my cock as bald-headed men with grizzled beards and homemade tattoos slap my buttocks and laugh triumphantly? Is it lesbianism that allows me to walk these difficult streets alone, afraid only that I will not be seen, accosted, "forced" into sexual adventure?

All my bravado, my will to adventure is caught up, strangely enough, with the great confidence I have gained from "The Lesbian." And yet, this confidence, this awareness of my own body, of my own independence, takes me to places where she dares not go. Perhaps then I am not a lesbian at all, but rather like a drag queen, by day a more or less effeminate, woman-loving gay man, by night a pussy, a buck, the despoiler of young men recently arrived from the provinces and the careful tutelage of their loving mothers. What I know for certain is that this self, this lesbian-identified gay man, is in constant flux. I live like a lesbian, as a lesbian, because I know no better way of life. Still, I live beyond her, in a province that continues to be reserved exclusively for men, all the while reaping the many fruits of sexual apartheid.

Me, I want to escape…. this dirty world, this dirty body. I never wish to make love again with anything more than the body.

Perhaps in my next life I will be done with these questions of identity altogether, will cherish fully the body that I am given, begin to see it neither as burden or weapon, but only as the vessel of my existence. Perhaps in my next life I will have given up finally this constant struggle to explain who I am not— not woman, not white, not straight, not you— and start to revel in the limitless of my boundaries. Perhaps each one of us will recapture that which has been lost, start again to accept and acknowledge the profound ambiguity and uncertainty of this existence. It is then and only then that we will find home.

In 1985 Barbara Smith came like a fresh wind into Chapel Hill."]

#robert f. reid-pharr #gay literature #lesbian literature #gender stuff #history stuff #terra preta #transcribed

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writersblockedx · 2 years

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When Evil isn’t so Bad

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Summary - Dean was brought up to believe demons were nothing but the enemy, a monster to be slain. But when the Winchester Brothers find Y/n, a demon whose not so bad, his opinion begins to sway. (Enemies to lovers in 5k words or less pretty much) Warnings - Violence, death, Angst Words - 4.8K

A/N - I really wasn’t sure whether to post this or not because I honestly can’t tell if I like it or not, but I may write a part two depending on how this one does. :)

MASTERLIST

There were some rules of hunting that Dean lived by. The main one being that monsters, and creatures alike, were to be exterminated. I mean, had that not been the case, he would be unemployed. Shoved within that category were demons too. Their wicked tendencies and their need to cause chaos with every step they made, all while wearing a human smile, made sure they were at the top of a hunter's hit list.

Which would explain why Y/n was bound to a wooden chair, a devils trap painted around her. Yet the girl seemed all but bothered by said situation. "If I say please, will you let me go?" She quirked after many long moments of torturous silence.

Dean had been set to watch her. Or, in his words, to babysit the demon. All while Sam went off to track down what they believed to be her latest victims. "No." He said with a deadpanned expression, tightening the grip he held around his gun.

She huffed, throwing her head back in frustration before slowly bringing it back again to eye Dean. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not the one doing all of this."

There had been three different incidents. One in which a family were in the midst of a children's birthday party, slaughtered and then had their party hats placed back on as if nothing had ever happened. An old women who had choked to death on her own apple pie. And then, most recently, a bartender who was decapitated while cleaning up for the night. A regular customer had found him, his head balanced on the bone of his neck. All made out to be almost humorous. Though, the brothers had whittled it down that it could only be humorous to certain creatures, one of them being a demon.

"Really?" Replied Dean as he pulled himself from the table he had once been leaning against. "You expect me to believe that your just in this town, to what? To live a happy life? Work a 9 to 5 and spend weekends at the local bar-" Dean stopped himself and mockingly gasped. "Oh, no, you can't go to the bar because you beheaded the bartender!" He snapped as he glared at the girl.

"If I really wanted to pull something like this off, I'd make sure it wasn't so obvious to hunters." She argued. "Hate to bruise that ego of yours, but you've got the wrong demon."

It was only at that moment, when a slither of doubt passed Dean. Something of which he would refuse to admit. "Whether this was you or not, doesn't change the fact that you are still a demon." He seemed to remind her.

"I haven't killed anyone." She told him.

The boy took a cautious step forward, stepping over the red paint that marked the concrete floor. "Oh really?" He raised his brows. "What about the meat you're wearing?" Y/n couldn't deny that. And while, the girl wasn't dead completely, she certainly had lost all control of her body, screaming and scratching at the mind.

Dean turned his back on her, walking back, assuming she had no counter argument. "She, in fact wanted this." Dean's feet stopped. "This girl, or meat, as you seem to call her, preyed to Lucifer and wore a pentagram around her neck." The boy finally faced her once again, all with knitted brows as she continued. "It's the same as angels taking their vessels. Only, when they do it, it's deemed as necessary, even as an honour to some. But when we do it, no, that's murder."

"It's different" Dean defended as he glanced down over her.

Y/n couldn't help the scoff that escaped her lips, "Course you'd say that."

"Yeah, because they don't take over people's bodies and then go on a murder spree!" He ranted with anger laced in his pupils. "They actually try and do good things."

His fury only grew when he was met with an expression that showed no care or interest for the point he was making. It was as if the girl was sat watching tv, not tied to a chair with her life threatened. "I didn't go on a murder spree." She said.

Dean shook his head, the grip around his weapon now so tight his knuckles were white. And, in one swift movement, he raised it, the barrel aimed between her eyes. "I'm willing to bet you did." He stated as his finger tip brushed the trigger.

Maybe he would have shot the demon. Dean knew he probably should have done. But he missed his opportunity when the door to the basement they were hiding in opened, his younger, much more sympathetic (even to demons), brother wondered it. "Dean! What the hell are you doing!" He practically screeched, prompting the older boy to drop his gun.

"What? She's a demon, probably the one who's killed all these people!" He paused, glancing back at the smug girl who was making the anger bubble in his gut. "We should have sent her right back to hell the second we got her in that chair."

Sam tilted his head in thought, "Yeah, well, as it turns out, she's not the demon orchestrating all of this." Dean could feel the smirk that was growing behind his back; he despised it. "But I'm going to take a guess, if there's another demon in town, she knows who it is." Sam nodded back to the girl as both brothers faced her. They were running out of options. And, it just so happened, she was their last one.

Y/n chuckled and her gaze landed on the older Winchester who had, only seconds prior, been holding a gun to her head. "Looks like we've got to work together now, sweetheart" She taunted. "Might be a good time to apologise for holding a gun at me."

Dean's jaw was clenched as he bit his tongue in attempt to hold back the sour words which fought to escape his lips. He walked back into the devil's trap, crouching down to reach her eye level. "We're not working together. You either tell us the name of the demon running around this town, or we send you back to hell." He spoke, ever so stern in his tone.

The girl leant as forward as she was able with her body bound, "I don't think you've got the guts to." She told him, her words only a whisper with how close they were. "Send me to hell, you've got no leads. Then more people die on your watch-"

Abruptly, Dean's hand was gripping her jaw, forcing her speech to a stop. Y/n hadn't realised the knife Dean had slipped into his other hand until it was pushed into her thigh. She groaned, winced and grunted. But the hunter showed no sympathy as the hand on her chin forced her to look back at him. "A name, sweetheart." He demanded.

Y/n wasn't stupid. She knew had she given nothing, that magic demon knife of theirs would have been shoved right into her heart. "I don't know his name. But I know where he's hiding." She finally admitted.

Dean dropped his hand from her skin before retracting from her. Sam followed by entering the circle, coming behind Y/n as he broke her free of the rope that bound her. "What are you doing?" Asked Dean.

"She said she knows where he is." Sam shrugged as if the obvious move was to free her. And with the rope no longer tied to her, she stood from the wooden chair. The only thing that stopped her now, were the markings on the floor. "So unless you want to spent hours running round this town like two headless chickens, and, as she said, let more people die on our watch. Then yeah, she's working with us, whether you like it or not."

Y/n watched as the younger Winchester, whom seemed to acting much more maturely, reached down, using his pocket knife to break the devil's trap. Sam was already walking out the door. Y/n stepped over the red paint, her smirk returning to her lips as her gaze found Dean once again. "Aw, what's with the frown?" She mocked before following Sam out the basement.

In that moment, Dean chalked this up to many of his brother's bad ideas. Little did he know, he would soon thank Sam for it.

Y/n was leading the way, only a few streets over from the basement she had been stuck in. But still, she assured the brothers they were close. "I think we'd know if the demon was this close to us." Dean assured, still following the girl as instructed.

She spun on her heels, as to face him, still walking backwards. "Maybe you're just not as good as a hunter as you thought." Y/n critiqued before turning back around.

Dean leaned over to his brother so he could hear his whispers, "I don't like her." He said, literally right behind her back.

Sam would have laughed at that had they not been in the midst of a hunt. "You've made that obvious, don't worry."

Then, as they came to the end of the road, Y/n stopped. She turned and faced the boys who were looking back at her like she was stupid. "Before I continue, and give you the exact location of this demon, and then proceed to help you kill him, someone who I'm meant to treat as a brother." But that putting it lightly. "I want some...assurances." She shrugged.

The brothers both held guns. They were ready and waiting for Y/n's go-ahead. So, there was no surprise when Dean's eyes rolled. "You want to do this now?" He whined as if he were a teenager.

Y/n nodded, "Yes, because if I don't do it now, I kill this demon with you, come out the house, and then you kill me. I just want your word that that won't happen."

Dean was chuckling. The thought that he, a hunter, and her, a black eyed demon, were meant to just leave each other be, well that was unheard of. He wasn't about to be the one to go breaking that certain prophecy. "Can't promise you th-"

"Fine." Interrupted Sam who was gripping his gun tighter.

Y/n glanced over to the other brother, "Dean?"

Dean glared to the younger Winchester. He would scold him later, he promised himself. "Let's just kill this thing and be done with it."

And so Y/n grinned before turning and facing a house. Well, an abandoned house. One of which was crumbling brick by brick, seemingly strung together by nothing but a thin line of thread. That was where Y/n had tracked her fellow demon to. "In there." She informed the boys.

They all wondered in as if they were a swat team. The brothers with their matching shot guns and blades and Y/n wearing nothing but her wit - you'd be surprised how many times it saved her. Alas, they found said demon just as Y/n had promised them. A few hits here, some more there and before the brother's knew it, Y/n had a hold of their special dagger and was shoving it deep into the demon's heart.

As the demon was sent back to hell, and the boy's were released from the force they were once held against, they wondered over to her. She gripped the dagger. The one thing close enough to kill her. And now, in front of her, two hunters who were trained in wielding it. The girl held it up, ready to use it against either of them if they dared get too close.

"And what you planning to with that, princess?" Dean taunted. Truth was, he did plan on pushing that blade right into her heart once they were finished. Again: Hunter, demon. In that moment, they seemed to be no question for the Winchester boy.

Y/n shrugged, "You'd be surprised how handy this might be for me."

Dean scoffed in return, "What? A weapon that kills your own kind? Yeah, very handy."

Of course, he hadn't quite been following, too bothered in conjuring his next move. Sam, however, had his brows knotted as he attempted to figure out what exactly Y/n had meant by that. "Y/n why were you here in the first place?" He questioned.

The girl wasn't sure if she should answer at first. She glanced between the brothers before huffing and dropping her hand from threatening them. "I was doing your job."

They both looked back, equally confused. "What?" That uttered in sync.

"Look, as it turns out, the boss, down there-" Y/n pointed to the ground below her feet. "-Doesn't like the demons causing too much attention. Sure, a murder here or there, fine. But he likes demons on their very best behaviour, ready to spring to his needs at any given moment, instead of going on a murder spree for their own entertainment. So he sends me to clean up their messes." She explained as both Sam and Dean followed with narrowed eyes. "That was why I was here. And I was so very close to killing him before you guys decided to kidnap me."

The brothers shared a look as to silently ask if the other believed this. At first, Dean's instinct was to shove this away as a lie, but it seemed there was nothing to prove it as such. "You know, had you told me that before, I would have at least hesitated to put a gun to your head." The boy said as to finally break the tense silence which had fallen over them.

She couldn't help the laugh that slipped past her lips as she met his gaze. "Dean, in the last 24 hours have I said anything you've truly fully believed?" She made point.

Dean hated that she was right. So his lips stayed sealed, answering her question without any need for words. "We appreciate the help." Sam said and the older brother could feel the start of one of his sweet talking speeches, matched with the eyes of a puppy. "But, we need that knife to kill the demons that aren't so, well, nice as you. We promise we won't kill you with it once you hand it over." He assured.

Y/n's gaze dragged over to the other Winchester; if anyone were to kill her right now, it'd be him. He puffed, "Pinky promise." He flashed a mocking smile.

While her eyes rolled, she twirled the dagger in her fingers, the handle facing Sam. Carefully, the tall boy took it back from her. And, it didn't go anywhere near her heart. They said their goodbyes and went opposites directions.

Dean would be lying if he didn't admit that this one demon was beginning to shift his whole years of hunting. Maybe he had respected his dad too much to ever question that not all demons were so bad. Sure, most were terrible, very terrible. But, as he drove from the town, all he seemed to be to focused on was her. It was naive to have only one demon change his entire perspective, yet it seemed Dean was falling for it.

"She was good." Sam quirked up from the passenger seat.

Dean glanced between him and the road ahead, "What?"

"Y/n." He uttered her name. "Even if she is a demon, she was right in saying she was doing our job for us. I mean, she was way ahead of us." The younger boy went on.

"I wouldn't say 'way ahead'." Dean critiqued.

Sam deadpanned his brother, "Dean, had we not shown up, she would have killed the guy and have been done with it."

Once again, Dean hated that he was wrong. "What are you trying to say? That a demon is better than hunting than hunters?" He questioned with raised brows.

Sam huffed, followed by a shrug as he found himself hesitant in continuing. "All I'm suggesting is that, maybe, she would have been a good contact to have."

Dean scoffed and laughed as if Sam had just made a truly hilarious joke. "You're kidding right?" His expression said that he wasn't. Dean pointed to himself, "Hunter." Then he pointed back, "Demon. We're like sworn enemies. We're not gonna have a demon's number right next to Bobby's, are we?"

"Dean this isn't Romeo and Juliet, alright? She seems to know what she's doing and, who knows? We might need her to save our asses one day."

The boy was still very much in doubt; he was only just coming round to the idea that maybe she wasn't purely evil. "I'm willing to bet we won't."

Dean made the wrong bet.

A few weeks later, the brothers were following a case. It wasn't until they rolled into town, only ten minutes into research when they found it was fault of demons possessing said townspeople. From that moment on, Sam wouldn't shut up about attempting to reach Y/n again. Dean, on the other hand, wanted to try every other trick they had before her.

"She knows what she's doing." The younger boy tried to convince as he trailed behind his brother.

Dean was in the midst of unpacking his shirt and tie to, once again, pose as agents. "We've dealt with demon possessions perfectly fine before." He argued.

"I'm not saying we won't be able to deal with it, I'm just saying she might help speed things up and thus, save more people."

The other boy huffed before finally facing Sam with a stern expression; he knew he had lost this argument. "And how are you planning to get in contact with her? It's not as if she's carrying a phone inside that black heart of hers." One problem of which Sam had already solved. He only had to glance over at the table, where several ancient demon books were sitting, to answer Dean's question. "You want to summon her?"

And so, the brothers turned the motel kitchen into a satanic ritual setting. Sam threw some herbs and lit some candles before uttering Latin. Before they knew it, Y/n was standing in front of them.

She could only sigh when she realised where she was, and more importantly, who brought her here. "I was in the middle of something." She said, as if they hadn't already guessed that with the blood that littered her clothes and dotted her skin.

"Yeah, well so are we." Said Dean with narrowed eyes as the two glared at one another.

Her brow raised, "Then why am I here?" She was looking to Dean to answer. And while the words were on the tip of his tongue, he was too prideful to voice them. "Is it because you may just happen to need my help?" A smirk was growing. Dean still despised it.

"No." He replied without thinking.

Which led her to wonder to the door, "Well in that case..."

Dean tried. He tried really hard to keep his ego together, but this one demon seemed to pulling it into pieces. "Wait." He finally stopped her. "We do need your help." The words came out in a stutter as his pride fought against his logic. The boy knew that, while she was a demon, her help would probably save lives, but he still hated to admit it.

"Wasn't that hard now, was it?" She winked at him, prompting his eyes to roll. "So what's going on?" That question was directed at Sam. The boy followed by talking her through everything they knew so far about the demons running around town.

They soon conjured up a plan: go in, all guns blazing. While vague, Y/n was sure it would be effective. She informed the boys that all the host bodies would be dying by now, so there was no point in trying to exorcise them. And they trusted her in that. The trio would split up, taking house by house where they knew the demons were residing. Thus, taking them out, one by one.

Y/n was awaiting by the impala as the sun set. They moved once it was dark. "Sam said you're gonna need to be equipped." Dean started as he exited the motel room, joining her by the the boot of the car.

She turned, uncrossing her arms from her chest. "Equipped?" She reiterated.

Dean answered her confusion by opening the trunk and showcasing the array of weaponry. Her first act was to scoff and turn her chin up at it, "I don't need any hunters 101 weapons." She told him. Dean looked as if he wasn't quite convinced. "If I really wanted to, I've got the power to throw you against a wall."

The boy quipped a smirk and Y/n was already regretting her words. "Kinky." He commented, urging the girl's eyes to roll - almost out of her head.

Her hand gripped the truck lid, "I'll leave you and Sam the guns and holy water." Then she slammed it shut. All while keeping tight kit eye contact with the boy.

Once the sun was all but a slither of orange in a darkening sky, the three moved out. They went through house and house as if they were swat. And with that, they took out each demon and the body they possessed. It was effective. It was quick. Most importantly, to Y/n anyway, it was the best way to get the job done.

It had been Sam who uncovered that the host bodies weren't so dead as Y/n had made them out to be. She had promised them that there was no point in exorcizing the demons and attempting to save the people beneath them. She had promised that they would all be dead already. Yet here Sam stood, having just shoved his trusty demon killing knife into a young girl. A young girl who was resurfacing as she took her last breaths. She had been alive in there. And had Sam not stabbed her, she would have been alive for much longer. It begged the question, how many other people had he just killed?

Y/n and Dean had just finished their final houses. Blood littered their clothes, weapons still in their grip as they walked back towards one another. "That was easier than expected." Dean had observed as they wondered towards the car.

"You can always just thank me, Dean." She quirked with a glimmer of a smirk as he popped open the trunk, putting back his several weapons.

Then he glanced back down to her, "Than-"

"Hey!" The yell cut through Dean's voice.

Y/n didn't regret turning around until she realised Sam had the knife at her throat. His eyes were written with fury and his grasp on the dagger suggested he wasn't just threatening. "Woah, Sam, come on, I thought we were friends right? Need I remind you that you were the one that summoned me." She spoke, in hopes to bring the boy back to some sense.

Even Dean attempted to bring the knife around from his brother's grip. "Hey, Sam come on." The boy didn't move an inch.

"You knew didn't you." The girl swallowed the lump that had since grown in her throat. "You knew that they were still alive."

That was when Dean, too, slipped into fury with a hint of betrayal. "It was the only way we would get the job done."

The pressure of the blade tightened, feeling it clip at her neck. "We killed innocent people tonight. That's not getting the job done." He argued.

"Sometimes there is collateral." She was careful with her words, letting them come out slowly as to anticipate any movement from Sam. "Had we gone around each house, exorcized each demon, we would have been slow. Slow enough for the other demons to catch on, to warn others, for them to plan an attack on us. We would have been dead people walking." She went on. "I didn't tell you because I know you wouldn't have done it. But the job needed to be done."

Sam huffed and shook his head at a passing thought. "It's not just about getting the job done, it's about how you do it too."

He let the blade free from her throat. It felt as if she could breathe again. She watched him intently, not sure what his next move was. "Sam, I'm sorry." He didn't say anything. Neither of them did. "I know you may not believe it, but we did save lives tonight."

Her eyes flickered to Dean. She waited to see if maybe he might say something, anything really. Instead, Y/n was met with that betrayed look that made her feel regret for the first time in many, many years. With that, she turned her back on them, walking towards the centre of town.

It took a few moments before Sam finally looked back at his brother, "You were right; we never should have worked with a demon." Dean nodded, but truthfully, he wasn't so sure in that anymore.

The older boy couldn't sleep that night. Maybe it was the fault of Sam's snoring, or maybe it was due to the spiralling thoughts that plagued his mind. He didn't want to spend time tossing and turning, avoiding sleep and avoiding the horrid feelings that lurked in his gut. So Dean went to the place he knew best: the bar.

It wasn't much for the small town they were still stuck in. But it was a bar, and it would supply Dean with what he was in need of. Though, as he entered the place, he spotted a familiar figure instantly. Y/n was seated at the bar, nursing a beer. He thought about turning back the way he came and was soon reminded of the same reason he come here in the first place: avoidance. It was as if they universe was forcing him to face this, to face her.

So he walked further through the bar, the doubt rising in his stomach, reaching a certain high when he finally met the barstool next to her's. He didn't say anything. She didn't look up. "What can I get you?" Asked the conventionally beautiful bartender; the type Dean would usually spend the night flirting with.

He smiled, "Beer, please."

Y/n finally glanced upwards, clocking the boy who was sitting next to her. "What are you doing here?" She questioned once the bartender had placed the wanted bottle in front of Dean.

"Same as you." He shrugged as their eyes met once again.

Her gaze seemed to drag back to the bar as if looking at Dean was bringing on a certain feeling she wished to be rid of. "Aren't you meant to be mad at me? Meant to be staying as far away as you can?"

"Whose to say I'm not mad?" Dean should be, he knew that. While her plan may have been effective, it hurt that she hadn't told them. "But, you were right. We never would have killed them all if we were trying to save the people they were possessing. And you were right that me and Sam wouldn't have done it if you'd told us there was a chance to save them. Guess us hunters just have that bit of humanity." Dean would never like to admit it, but humanity made it harder to hunt.

"A burden I'm glad I don't have to deal with." She replied, looking over once again.

Dean narrowed his eyes in thought. "You sure?" He inquired. "Because from what I've seen, you save lives. As many as you can. Maybe that's because it's your job, or maybe that's just what you tell yourself." The boy thought that he could be crossing a line, but he seemed to not care. He knew he probably wasn't going to see Y/n again, so why not cross that line? He'd done worse.

Y/n took a long sip of her beer before choosing to respond to Dean. "You act like you know so much about me." She said with a certain glint in her pupils the boy couldn't depict. "Not to long ago, you were holding a gun to my head. You hated my guts. All because you believed I was so very evil."

There eyes never broke from another. Dean leaned closer; Y/n's heart (or what was left of it) quickened. "This might be the first time I ever admit this," Pause. "But I was wrong. I was wrong about you." Her eyes scanned his. Before she knew it, he was leaning into her lips, and she wasn't stopping him.

Dean thought about Sam and what he might say about this. He knew his brother wouldn't be happy, he knew all hunters in existence wouldn't be happy about it, but there was something about her, demon or not, that urged him in like he was a fish on a hook. As they pulled from one another, a silence followed. They weren't sure who was to speak first.

"Why did you do that?"

"Like I said: I was wrong about you."

And like that, her lips were on his again. Historians truly wouldn't believe it; a hunter entangled with a demon.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester one shot #dean x reader #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader #sam winchester #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #fanfiction #imagine #x reader

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wordsandrobots · 13 days

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Had a pretty bad day so I'm going to boast about something.

I didn't mention it at the time but posting Chapter 14 of Ragnarök in G Minor on Friday took it past the previous high bar for individual Wishing on Space Hardware fic-length set by The Ares Affair (72,872 words vs 69,850). And this latest story isn't even halfway done. That'll come next week, and take the total word count for the series over 550,000 words.

(I'm hoping to land at about 555,000 because who wouldn't?)

Which is nice, and a good reminder of why, exactly, it took me half a year longer than expected to get Ragnarök finished. Because that did kind of disappoint me, but looking at it like this, it makes sense. There was a *lot* to get through to tie the overarching story together and give everybody some sort of key moment. My problem with writing fic for Iron-Blooded Orphans is that I want to write about ALL of it, and every single character, so it was probably inevitable that it wouldn't conclude with anything less then a doorstop of a fic.

Chapter 14 also marked the end of the character arc I started with the first IBO fic I wrote and I want to write a brief commentary on that. I'm planning a proper 'author's note' essay when the whole series is done, but this . . . this is something more specific.

(Behind a cut because it is talking about endgame stuff for Wishing on Space Hardware, which is already a post-canon fic for Iron-Blooded Orphans, so, yeah. Take heed and beware ye spoilers.)

I can't remember when exactly I decided one of the climaxes was going to be a three-way fight between fun-house mirror versions of the Devil of Tekkadan. Like much of WoSH, it fell out of the ever-expanding churn of ideas IBO left me with. But it's an obvious thing to do: take the legacy of the anime's protagonists and fracture it against itself for the sake of drama. Because whatever else, we are talking about a group of deeply traumatised child soldiers and there remains the potential for a lot of bad things to follow the hopeful ending of the show.

Embi is all the worst parts of Tekkadan. Violent, arrogant, selfish, reckless -- he's the vessel into whom I poured all that and more, to the point of having him actively reject the better parts. Heart-sickened by the death of his brother, the bonds of comradeship fray until he can't stand the sight of his former squad-mates, much less the miraculous returnee from the dead who catalyses the events of WoSH. At the same time, he can't stay at his worst. He struggles with new connections because they threaten to pull him from his grief. He doesn't want to move on. Embi roots himself in an old dream of being like Mikazuki, in the life of a mercenary soldier. Fighting is all he knows and beyond it lies the terrifying prospect of hope and trying. He'd have much preferred to burn up over Mars. At least that would have been a safely familiar ending.

Ordsley suffers the myth of Tekkadan, transformed by people who saw what a group of Martian children 'achieved' and wanted to surpass them. Yet the curse inflicted on him -- for he is of course a werewolf, turning with the influence of the crescent moon -- is to become unwilling legatee of Mikazuki's reality: the beast and the boy, the contradictory dreams of someone trapped by a system that sees people as raw material. For the smart young man at home on the proper side of history, it's a hell of a shock to reckon with the humanity of those condemned for their rebellion. Here, finally joining the survivors on the battlefield they once called home, the pieces click, for at least a moment. There are no easy answers in a world that offers children a choice between killing and starvation, but perhaps in the middle of the fray, it is easier to understand why they call each other friend.

Then there's Shino. The lovely, blood-thirsty himbo I thought it would be interesting to pluck from his canonical fate.

I know when I decided to shatter his prosthetic. The middle of last year, after reading writing by amputees, talking about how they are depicted, how that feeds and feeds off narratives fundamentally disconnected from their lived experiences. Still, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I'm not trying to speak to those experiences. The canon has sci-fi prosthetics. It's detached from the real world. It's just, the ways it also problematises them . . . the way, particularly with the addition of 598 and his cybernetic eye, that dovetails with the propaganda drive from militaries to gift high-tech limb replacements to those mangled in the course of fighting . . . I don't regret pushing myself to dip my toe in those waters.

You see, I wanted to tie together the strands of Shino's trauma. His instinctive reach for quid pro quo in his relationship with Yamagi, finally answered with the truth of everything positive he left behind on his first 'death'. His great bête noire, that failure of his last-ditch effort to save Tekkadan, coming full-circle as he's given another chance, another challenge, met this time with greater experience and maturity, and the knowledge of when not to fight. Third-best no longer, bolstered by all those who taught him what it takes to fly.

And as he gets to prove his mastery -- in ways beyond Embi's suicidal commitment and Ordsley's engineered supremacy -- he also reckons once more with that pernicious belief he is only fit to fight.

There isn't an answer, you know. Those doubts about ourselves, those demons, don't go away even when we let them go. We just learn to carry on regardless. To accept the possibility that we can live anyway, and to stop throwing the best parts of ourselves under the bus in our rush to distance ourselves from the worst.

So the arm is smashed to bits, the fate of the mobile suit pilot, the soldier, the body spent in violence. But Shino finally sees his younger self in a positive light and does what nobody else was able to for Embi: tell him it's OK to leave. Whatever it takes to be happy, even if that's a million miles away. He treats Ordsley as Ordsley, not Mika 2.0, reinforcing Ordsley's newfound balance. Above all, throughout everything, he is not alone. This final fight is spent with Eugene right at Shino's side, backing him up, trusting him. The Ryusei-Go is Tekkadan as a community, the part that truly never wilted. Because the reason Shino can have this moment of catharsis is that he is loved. So many people, building him up, giving him a future.

Everything he would do for them, unhesitatingly, and has, more times than he will ever realise.

I don't know if it's character development, exactly. Honestly, I don't know if the chapter actually encapsulates these things the way I wanted it to. I've read it too many times to see it straight any more and, even with a lovely band of readers I am privileged to have commenting, I'm doubting myself a lot these days. I don't sit well on my laurels, with the things I've completed, the word counts and the tick-marks. I worry it's still not enough. Put a fair of myself in Shino, there.

But I think it's good. I think it came out the way I wanted it to. I think it's the right thing for the story, to take a giant mecha battle, the tragic, inevitable conflict, and flip it around into an act of firefighting. I think I should be proud I got here, even if I never expected to when I first sat down at my keyboard to explain why the hot bisexual anime boy was still alive, actually.

So I'm make a note, to myself, that I did. That I should be proud. That I am, of me, for doing that.

And if you're reading this and you're going to be reading the rest of the story -- I'll just say, Shino himself is going to tell you why his vivid pink robot arm needed to be demolished by a giant sword. There'll be another, eventually (they do have a cyberneticist on speed-dial), but for now, well. You'll see.

#fanfic #writing #more rambling #it's just been a bad couple of weeks #and the howling void where I once had a 650000 word fic series to spend every waking hour thinking about has been biting hard

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spnangelbang · 11 months

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“The Garden’s Keeper” - Tuesday, July 25

Author: Gitten Artist: Dimitri Evans ( @dimitrirmy ) Rating: Teen and Up Featured characters: Gadreel, Castiel, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Crowley Featured relationships: None Length: 80,000 words Tags: Canon compliant, Alternate season nine, Mark of Cain, Canon typical violence Warnings: Major Character Death

Summary: After being expelled from Sam's body, Gadreel is unable to believe in Metatron's vision anymore. He joins Castiel's side and tries to earn Sam and Dean's trust after he makes a risky deal to help them. However, facing Metatron and Abaddon is just half of the challenge as Sam still struggles with feelings of guilt and Dean is losing control fast because of the Mark of Cain. Gadreel has to deal with all of it if he wants to be known as anything else than just the fallen from grace guardian of the Garden of Eden.

Excerpt:

Gadreel looked at the angel he had easily overpowered and the confused look in those eyes assured him that he wouldn’t be able to finish this job. He realized he was feeling conflicted about it, which was a very odd reaction for him. Until recently, killing someone had never felt particularly hard or wrong. Gadreel let go of his already disarmed target. “Change your vessel and lay low, Agiel” he said. “Your survival must remain a secret for the sake of us both.”

The other angel stared at him for a few seconds. “Am I supposed to just hide for the rest of my life? I was…” he began, his voice breaking for a second. “I was doing fine until you showed up, finally building a life outside Heaven… Why couldn’t you just leave me be?”

“I had orders to follow.”

“Orders…” Agiel repeated with disgust. “Not a word that means that much since the Fall, is it? God let us be thrown out of Heaven and our wings be burnt beyond repair so now we even have to walk like earthly vermin instead of flying. He didn’t answer to any of our prayers, no matter how many eons we followed his will. So what orders could be more important and less meaningless than those from God?”

“The orders of a new God” Gadreel replied, hoping to sound more convinced than he really was by the title Metatron had chosen for himself.

Agiel scoffed. “What happened to you, Gadreel? You used to be… well, better than this before your mistake.”

“If you really wanted to know that you would have visited me while I was unfairly imprisoned, brother.”

Gadreel could see on Agiel’s face that he wanted to fight that statement, but the other angel ended up remaining quiet.

#spnangelbang #spnangelbang promos #artist: Dimitri Evans #gadreel #author: Gitten

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traggalicious · 9 months

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(Sorry for caps! Also The Owl House spoilers i think??? Maybe? Just watch out babes)

N e way

HEYA BABYGIRLS WHATSUP ITS 1:30 ISH I DONT GIVE A SHIT ANYWAY IM HAVING THOUGHTS ABOUT THE MASKS IN TOH RIGHT BC I WAS DOODLIN SOME ALTERNATIVES BC FUN RIGHT. AND WAS LIKE “HM. I SMELL SYMBOLISM.”

SO. FIRST WE HAVE THE SHAPES OF THE MASKS. HUNTER’S IS SHAPED LIKE THE MARKINGS OF A BARN OWL (AND HIS WHOLE COLOR PALLET IS DEFINITELY BASED OFF OF THE BARN OWL.). GUESS WHAT? GUESS WHAT BARN OWLS ARE ASSOCIATED WITH? DEATH AND REBIRTH. AND WHAT HAPPENS TO THE GOLDEN GUARDS, OR CALEB IF YOU WANNA GET FUNKY. THEY DIE, AND ARE REBORN. OVER AND OVER AGAIN. INTERESTING HUH?

But there’s MORE! GUESS WHAT? IN COMPARISON TO HUNTER’S CUTE ROUNDED MASK, WE’VE GOT BELOS’ MASK. HIS IS LONG AND POINTY. NOW IF WE’RE THINKIN BIRD, WHAT DOES THAT REMIND YOU OF? CROWS AND OTHER SUCH BIRDS. CARRION BIRDS! WHAT DO THOSE DO? THEY THEY FEED ON CORPSES AND ROTTING THINGS, THEY SCAVENGE FOR FOOD. ALMOST LIKE HOW BELOS IS CONSTANTLY USING HIS BROTHER’S DEAD CORPSE PICKING AWAY FLESH AND REMOVING BONE FOR HIS OWN USES. BIG HMMMMM. CROWS ARE ALSO KNOWN AS ILL OMENS AND/OR MESSENGERS OF DEATH. BELOS IS HERE TO GENOCIDE. VESSEL OF DEATH HMMM? AND CONNECTORS OF THE SPIRITUAL AND MATERIAL REALMS? WELL I MEAN I MIGHT BE REACHING BUT CMON HE’S RESURRECTING HIS BROTHER OVER AND OVER TECHNICALLY.

Anyway! Last point: His mask and Hunter’s have front facing golden masks. They got predator faces broskis. And also: gold. Which, makes sense. They’re the top dudes in the whole pyramid scheme right? Belos is the *Emperor*, and again, he’s gonna genocide the whole Isles. And Hunter’s his attack dog. Predators! Everyone else’s (the scouts) masks are grey/silver with eyes placed on the side. They’re also round and circular, giving a less threatening look to em. Yeah. Plus everyone in the BI is like belos’ prey n shit idk man. N e way that’s it love y’all sorry <333

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throttlegainwell · 4 months

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for the ask game !! 🤔❤️

Hi! Thanks for the ask.

🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

Oh, I get way, way too many ideas, so how about I do a pan-fandom view?

For X-Men (the movie version, in this case): I have a couple of sequels planned for the ice about to melt 'verse, but I haven't even finished the first story in the series yet, To Yield. (Would love to finish it, but there are logistical and pacing issues that I haven't yet untangled--it's not my finest work, on a technical level, but just very emotionally id-driven, you know?) Anyway, the sequel ideas are very plotty (especially compared to the first story, which is all awkward conversations, violence, and sex) and I just think they're weird in interesting ways and way less angsty than To Yield.

For 616 X-Men: Xavier's perspective on his early years with Scott, particularly how his own shitty childhood shaped their interactions, or literally anything about Alex and Scott, tbh. I have a bingo card I've been sitting on for like 2 1/2 years where I marked out the "hiding an injury" square for one where they go on a mission and Scott knows his brother too well to fall for it.

For Stranger Things: Altered States. That multiverse one I've mentioned before, where Will gets whammied into an alternate universe and sees a different version of his life. I love multiverse stories and meeting alt versions of yourself/your people, like, a lot (one of my favorite tropes, for sure), and I haven't written enough of it. Or Joyce/Karen porn, tbh. I really want them to hook up.

For The Hunger Games: I'd like to write an outsider POV story about Finnick over the years through the eyes of the Capitol attendants, particularly the Avoxes, who were witnesses to his life in the Capitol, probably in very intimate ways. I haven't because it'd be super heavy even for me and because I'd want the attendants to have strong voices and interiority, not just be storytelling vessels, and that's a lot to take on in any satisfying way.

❤️Not a question, just a second kudos to send.

Aw, thank you!

#answered asks #writing tag #ask game

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askrobouteguilliman40k · 7 months

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The strange feeling of remembering that you're forgetting something remains with you well into the rest of the local week. As you walk the halls of Macragge's Honour, it pulls at your mind.

Selenar.

Out of desperation as much as curiosity, you visit the burnt-out remains of the Selunite headquarters, the Herodotus Omega dome on Luna. The Adeptus Biologis Tech-Priests of Luna tell you that the Dome is cursed upon your landing, and warn you not to venture too close, but you do regardless—you are a Primarch, wielding the sword of your father, not an overeager Inquisitor.

The Herodotus Dome gives you more questions than it answers. As you stand amidst the ruins, dawning sunlight slowly filtering through cracks in the roof, all you can see are the bleached bones of the dead gene-witches. The long-silent databanks are wiped curiously clean; so clean, in fact, that there isn't any data degradation for you to reverse. There's simply no data in the first place.

The next week, a new report comes in, this time marked with a priority seal.

Large battleship (estimated 10+ kilometres) spotted in orbit of Picchu IV, Picchu System. Suspected to be renegade Gloriana-class. Markings do not match any known Loyal, Traitor, or Renegade vessels. Battlefleet Vestia placed on alert. Battlegroup Crucifying Flame attempted to engage unknown vessel; target vessel escaped using a Warp Jump. Pursuing vessels noted that the unknown battleship activated Gellar shielding before jumping.

A pict-capture accompanies the missive; a grainy photo of a colossal vessel, half-shadowed by the rising sun behind it. The strange feeling of remembering that you forgot returns. You know this ship. You've toured this ship. Yet, when you try and remember why, or how—nothing. Not just an absence of a memory, a void, like something was there, taken away, and then the absence was covered up.

You try and look closer, but the bad lighting, bad angle, and terrible quality obscure any defining features beyond the peculiar prow—instead of an Imperial Aquila, it's a winged woman that appears to be wearing plate armor. You aren't entirely sure of that, though. Perhaps it is a figurehead of Sanguinius.

Perhaps you're simply tired. Perhaps you've lost memories over the ten thousand years you lay in stasis. Memory is fragile like that.

You bring as much up to the Lion, when the two of you speak in the halls of the Rock.

"Selenar? The gene-witches?" he asks.

"Yes. That's all I can remember. The rest is like an absence where there used to be something. Do you understand my meaning?"

"Like you remember that you forget. I know your meaning, brother." The Lion puts a hand to his chin in contemplation. "Selenar... and you said these were unusual Astartes?"

"All evidence points to that. Heightened reflexes and physical capabilities were well-documented by the Guardsmen that witnessed the theft, and no Traitor Gloriana battleship has a winged woman for a prow. There are no records of any Loyalist battleships with one, either."

"Hmm." The sound is less one to accompany his thoughts, and more of a statement that he is thinking. "I will alert the spies within the Dark Angels and our Successors to keep an eye out for strange Renegade vessels."

"I have done the same of the Inquisition and the sons of Ultramar."

"Then, with luck, we shall discover this strange vessel in due time," the Lion resolves, and you cannot help but feel that the words ring empty. You think he knows that, too.

As you turn away, the Lion perks up. "Say... brother, this theory may be insane, but hear me out. What if this is one of the lost battleships?"

"What do you mean?"

"Let's not kid ourselves by saying that Imperial records are complete. At best, years have been purposefully obscured; at worst, much of our history is an outright lie. I know that some vessels have had their construction blotted out of records—the fleets of the Second and Eleventh, for example, or the ships destroyed during the campaign to our neighbor galaxy. What if a Gloriana or three were part of these ghost ships?"

Interesting.... One of the lost brothers? The ones the Empire forgot?

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yurcna · 5 months

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title: sovereign of no one, leader of nothing when: post the tinkerer where: rome trigger warnings: suicidal thoughts, allusions to violence, sad shit

On the ninth day of the siege, Yurena Aguirre dies.

She dies at her brother’s hand, dies because she is loved.

Yurena Aguirre died because she wasn’t loved enough.

There is no one left to love her enough. Not with her coven’s souls scattered amidst the stars, her oldest companion doomed to the depths of Hell. There is no parental warmth to seek out, none of Kaito’s warmth at her back, none of Erik’s steady presence over her shoulder, no steadfast support from her coven mates. Her only friends have other loyalties to pay heed to, most of the relationships she had before Alstroemeria’s fall have burned to ashes due to her own doing.

And Seth— Tepiltzin— Whatever he is called, he who she had hoped would be different? All he does is watch, and there is no hint of regret that she can find on her face.

Yurena Aguirre died alone, desperately wishing for someone who cared.

At that moment, on top of the tower in New Dis, no one did.

Yurena Aguirre dies a martyr, unloved in the ways that matter.

Yurena remembers.

Moments like this leave a mark that cannot be erased.

Yurena does not die, calling forth the daimona days before she planned, memories of a life unfulfilled at her fingertips. Dying in agony, dying underneath her brother’s gaze. She remembers it all.

She won’t forget.

Can’t.

Despite the memories of pain, despite the phantom touch of death gripping at her throat, she raises her Elysian Horn to her lips and blows.

The future changes before her eyes, Octavian’s madness thwarted, the book destroyed. And her brother Augustus? And the last of Erik’s legacy? He is saved by a hand not her own, the magic stealing his soul stolen from him in return. It’s his salvation, even if he does not see it.

It’s a relief.

It’s an ending.

A pyrrhic victory for the last of Alstroemeria, the satisfaction of fulfilling Erik’s last wish, the bitterness that makes her unable to meet Augustus’ eyes as he is taken away. In the future that never was, Yurena Aguirre had learned that her brother had died and could not be saved and that had been the final push she had needed to risk it all. In the future that is, Yurena learns that all the love in the world would not have saved Augustus, least of all hers. She learns that her devotion is unmatched, her loyalty yet another string for him to tug as a bleeding heart.

Love, the greatest weapon of them all.

Love, the greatest betrayal.

Deep within, Yurena Aguirre had known this as an universal truth: the bond of siblings was more important than any other, parents left too soon and lovers came too late, siblings were there throughout.

Unfortunately for her, Yurena Aguirre died at her brother’s hand and the person left behind cannot face Augustus' eyes without seeing the cold calculating gaze of a being that would break her apart and feed her to the book for just a little more power.

She meets Eren’s eyes instead, looking at the man that had cut through the Asphodel forces for Augustus, for the lover that now had a chance when he didn’t before. She meets Alexander, Achilles and the countless versions of the man that loves Augustus and nods at him, washing her hands from the necromancer who had become human.

She had given one life for Augustus, and him none for her. She had given him her life once, and once was enough.

Yurena allows herself to be taken by the Allied forces after that, an specter of the once great coven reduced to a martyr that had returned from death once more against all odds. Blood magic stains her hands, necromantic rot buried on her bones even as the book lies destroyed, and she expects nothing less than eternal damnation as she is presented before the Senate.

She does not expect forgiveness.

Does not deserve it, does not want it.

Don’t they see that she has nothing? That she is nothing? She is a hollowed vessel, Pandora’s pithos without its hope.

She is nothing and no one, a ghost unloved and unmourned.

Unfortunately for her, she is also the last Alstroemeria and despite her desire to reach out for the oblivion that Augustus had so kindly delivered her to, she cannot rest. Her crimes pardoned for the betrayal that once killed her, that no she wishes it had, she is given back her home, broken and shattered as it is by the months it spent under Asphodel’s and Cavaliere’s control.

She has a home, but not a coven.

She has the ghosts that never were and can never be pressing down and suffocating her.

She has a duty.

And she has never been anything but the dutiful daughter.

She is Yurena Alstroemeria, and she has a coven to rebuild. Coven of one, house haunted by what was lost and by the blood spilled within it’s halls, she awaits on the halls of those who have long gone, walking along with her ghosts as she rebuilds the Reliquary step by step, as she builds barriers and wards and cleans the rot that has been buried into the very stone.

She is far too busy to be alone, and yet she is nonetheless.

And so, dying will have to wait for another day.

For weeks, she heals from the aftermath, builds the walls around her heart until it is protected against those she knows will attempt to use her once more. The Coven members she has betrayed, the blood witches that will not take her contribution to the Senate’s cause laying down. She prepares for a Cold War that will follow her into her grave, for immortality is not a stranger to those who now despise her and immortality has long slipped from her grasp.

Yurena Alstroemeria prepares to be even a shadow of the Sovereign she could have become, in another life.

She does not prepare for the Senate’s mercy, nor their mockery of a reward for her undying loyalty to her coven, to Erik.

Augustus Cavaliere is released to her care, to live in Alstroemeria’s House forever more, haunting the halls with the very same nightmares that plague her night.

Her only family brother everything murderer is allowed to live in her home, in hopes of rehabilitation. He is given Alstroemeria’s House as an open air prison because it is his home. Nevermind that it had not been his home since he had been banished for the very same action that had set him down on the path that almost destroyed them all. Nevermind that he had once turned her home into the antithesis of everything Erik had ever believed in, twisting it into a mockery of Alstroemeria’s legacy by inviting Asphodel into its halls. Nevermind that one of his last victims had attempted to make it her refuge.

It is what Erik would have wanted.

And Yurena, Aguirre or Alstroemeria, is too loyal to her mentor to deny his wishes, even when they are whispered beyond the grave. Even when they are implied on the heavy tongues of those who had known him in a different capacity than her.

In the end, she knows it to be true.

Erik had always wanted for his son to return home, and Yurena had lost a brother in the war, but the former Sovereign is long dead and cannot say he has lost his son.

Despite her desire to stop martyring herself for her people, Yurena accepts the decision, martyrs herself once more why is it always once more when will it be enough she wants to live she wants to be free someone anyone please choose her someone please love her someone someone is anyone listening? for the man that would never do the same on her stead, and keeps her mouth shut as the proceedings take place.

For one last time, within the halls of their ancestral home, Yurena awaits her brother’s return. She doubts the man that will walk through the door will resemble the brother she lost. Doubts he will even notice her presence amidst the grief of losing his magic and his self-proclaimed destiny.

Nevertheless she waits.

She welcomes him into their ancestral home, into their magic halls, into the memory wrought courtyards. Offers him the Guest’s Privileges, offers him physical comforts and the luxuries the coven can afford.

Then, and only then, she goes out of her way to ensure they are not in the same room again. Not while it is only the two of them that haunt these halls.

She makes sure not to make it too noticeable, lest the Senate decide to relocate him, but that is far from a challenge. A Sovereign for a coven of one she might be, but that does not mean her duties fall as short as her numbers. Yurena makes herself busy, striking friendships, rebuilding bridges, cleaning her bookstore from the most wretched grimoires on her collection and delivering them upon Amaranthus for their study, volunteering into the charitable branches of the Eye that open around Rome. It does not matter that the Eye has destroyed her once, it does not matter that they are the reason why Erik was not able to destroy the Necronomicon before it fell into Augustus' grasp.

She had been forgiven for the unforgivable, it is only fair that she would forgive them for the same.

The Returned Martyr keeps herself busy, setting down the foundations for a life that once was hers but she had burned away.

All the while, she feels eyes on the back.

Judging eyes, resentful eyes, hateful eyes.

She accepts them all, for she knows the feelings are justified.

Yurena learns not to pay attention to the eyes that follow her everywhere, and in doing so, fails to notice the eyes of a liche looking for his little bird witch, not realizing that the witch is dead.

In her place, it’s a specter rebuilding herself into a woman.

In her place, stands a Sovereign.

Yurena Aguirre dies on the ninth day of the siege on a future that never came to pass.

Yurena Alstroemeria lives in her place.

#{ drabble }#{ musings } i am begging you; begging you? please show me; please show me why

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sastiel-is-my-serotonin · 4 months

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Sastiel + thinking about running away together 💖

I can't believe I let this ask sit so long, but absolutely. I think they'd actually do it for the benefit of Jack, but not for themselves, and wrote a little bit of that idea here (it's before Jack's time):

Dean had left to the bar, Sam still treating his wounds, he patched Dean up and pretended to fall asleep. Hoping his brother would go to sleep too or something. Glad he left so he could patch up the wound on his back.

Wincing as he cleaned it out, Castiel appeared in front of him, making him drop the bandage in favor of a knife, "Fuck..." Sam sighed, tossing it back down, "Sorry, Cas, rough night."

The angel nodded, and held a hand over the wound, the pain and mark of it disappearing completely.

"Bad hunt?" Castiel asked, Sam shook his head.

"No, that was the only thing that did go right, I... I'm just tired." Sam said, getting up to pack away his supplies.

Castiel tilted their head looking at Sam, "Where's Dean?"

"Bar." Sam said, Castiel glanced outside, and back at Sam.

"What did he do?" Castiel asked, Sam scrunched up his face, glancing at the angel.

"What? Dean?" Sam asked, the angel nodded.

Sam shook his head, "Nothing," he lied.

Castiel raised an eyebrow, "Then why didn't he help patch you up?"

"He didn't know I was injured. It's... Whatever." Sam said, standing up, sitting back on his bed.

Castiel followed Sam onto the bed, sitting next to him, "I don't believe that, I know both of you too well."

Sam shrugged, leaning into Castiel, looking at his hands, "Just don't want to talk about it."

Castiel adjusted to allow Sam to lean on them more, "You don't have to."

"I just hate how much it hurts to be around him at times," Sam mumbled, "When he's my last bit of family apart from you, it shouldn't be so difficult. I have my part in it, but..." Sam sighed deeply, "I don't know. I'd rather be away instead of seeing the disappointment in his eyes."

Castiel reached out and held Sam's hand, "I know, I... I have my own difficulties with Dean, not the same level as you," Castiel squeezed Sam's hand, "But at times, I wonder if I'm less than one mistake away from death with him. I can't fathom doing that to him, and yet. It's been a threat he doesn't hesitate to make."

Sam nodded, and leaned on Castiel's shoulder, "It's not right, even if he does care about us."

"I agree." Castiel said, the two sat their in silence reflecting on it, and Castiel turned with a small laugh, "Should we run?"

Sam raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"Run away together." Castiel joked, although Sam sensed there was some genuineness to it.

Sam thought about how weeks on end him and Dean have been arguing over the smallest of things, this night was far from the worst in weeks, unfortunately.

"Where would we go?" Sam asked lightly.

Castiel shrugged, looking at Sam, "Anywhere we want. There's some beautiful places in the world still undiscovered, no one would bother us. Or we go somewhere we can blend in and live a normal life."

Sam liked the idea of either of those, but even as they thought about it, they know they couldn't, too many people need both of their help. They can't turn their back on everything because of disputes with Dean, "It would be nice to get away."

"It would," Castiel said, but just as Sam knew it, they didn't believe they'd have it in them to walk away completely. If so, they'd have done it by now.

"Maybe if we know our destination, a reason to go," Sam said, and Castiel nodded.

"Although," Castiel looked at Sam, "I don't need a plan or destination to follow you, I'd go in blind even if you were also blind. I trust you."

Sam looked down at their hands intertwined, "I'd trust you to lead us both there through my vessel, following you is easy."

"But we're not going anywhere are we?" Castiel asked, and Sam shook his head meeting Castiel's eyes.

"No, not today," Sam confirmed, "But maybe one day we'll have to."

Castiel nodded, "If that day comes, I'll be right by your side."

"And so will I."

#answered asks #hanabi-09 #sastiel #samstiel #samcas #sam winchester #castiel #dean winchester #I think unfortunately I have a deeper insight on that dynamic now than I did when I first got this ask #And it's not always as easy as walking away when someone is hurting you #Not when you're not the only one and you can't leave people behind and I think that's something both Sam and Castiel would struggle with #It was huge when Castiel actually left but still came back and that's the thing it's about leaving and staying gone #And that's something I think they'd only do for the benefit of Jack and something I've attempted to write before #Simply haven't finished yet but I think it's something I'll try #Getting off track but I love the idea of these two leaving and living for themselves #It'd be so great for them

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mysticstronomy · 2 years

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WHY DON’T WE AGE IN SPACE??

Blog# 195

Wednesday, May 25th, 2022

Welcome back,

Growing older can take a serious toll on the body. Bones become brittle, muscle shrinks, the immune system loses strength, and age-related ailments like arthritis can set in. More serious complications like declining cognitive function and heart disease can also take hold as the later years of life progress.

These symptoms can also come from something less common-space travel. Flying through outer space has dramatic effects on the body, and people in space experience aging at a faster rate than people on earth. Several papers recently published in the Cell family of journals look at the health hazards that spending time in outer space has had on astronauts. These studies showed that space alters gene function, function of the cell’s powerhouse (mitochondria), and the chemical balance in cell.

The health effects of spending time in space resemble some age-related disorders, like cancer and osteoporosis. While the similarities of spaceflight to aging give concern for long-term space missions, like a voyage to Mars, the outer space environment also provides an opportunity to study aging processes in the body.

Scientists estimate that the heart, blood vessels, bones, and muscle deteriorate about 10 times faster in space than in natural aging. In other words, scientists don’t need to wait for their biological study subjects to grow older naturally on Earth—with accelerated health effects in space, they can run experiments on astronauts on the International Space Station (ISS).

But the effects of space travel are not exactly the same as aging, and many of the changes that occur in space reverse themselves when people return to Earth. The comparisons can still be useful, though, and scientists say time spent in space provides a good model for understanding the chronic process of aging. Maybe outer space living could reveal new methods for protecting ourselves from processes that make us grow old.

Space affects different cell types in different ways, according to Michael Roberts, interim chief scientist of the ISS National Laboratory in a report in National Geographic. “It’s not a single acute exposure to toxic agents, for example; it’s something that’s long-term, chronic, and persistent.” Space life changes the body’s equilibrium for optimal functioning, thereby rebooting the way that cells respond.

In the microgravity atmosphere of outer space, the heart, bones, and muscle don’t need to work as hard as they do on Earth, so they weaken from disuse. Fluid-filled tissues may change shape because liquid flows differently in microgravity, which can change the shapes of organs like the brain. Not only that but higher background radiation outside of Earth’s atmosphere can cause DNA damage and increase cancer risk.

The new research on the health effects of outer space living started with a study on astronaut twin brothers, Scott and Mark Kelly. Ten research teams monitored changes in Scott’s body during his year-long trip to space. The scientists then compared the changes to Scott’s identical twin brother Mark who stayed on Earth during that time. The research teams recorded differences in the twin astronauts ranging from changes in gene expression profiles, microorganisms in the gut (the microbiome), cognitive abilities, and cardiovascular systems.

A striking discovery from the NASA Twins Study was that Scott’s telomeres changed length. Telomeres are regions of DNA at the ends of chromosomes that protect the rest of the DNA from damage, decay, and fraying. Telomere lengths diminish with age and how quickly they shorten is an important indicator of health and aging.

While Scott was in Space, his telomeres lengthened, but when he returned to Earth, they rapidly shrunk. Although his telomeres were longer during spaceflight, he ended up with shorter telomeres than he started with. Shortened telomeres have been linked to cardiovascular disease while longer telomeres are associated with cancer. So, either of these changes in telomere length can have negative health consequences.

Some of the health effects of spaceflight seem to equilibrate after a certain amount of time in space like decreased blood volume and changes in the lungs and heart. Astronauts haven’t spent enough time on the ISS to say with any certainty whether these changes in the body will reach a steady-state.

Originally published on www.nmn.com

COMING UP!!

(Saturday, May 28th, 2022)

“DO ATOMS DECAY OVER TIME??”

#astronomylover #astronomyclub #astronomyfacts #Astronomy #outer space #spaceX #spacecraft #universe #alternate universe #Parallel Universe #white universe #strange matter #Dark Matter #antimatter #Black Hole #stars #NASA #james webb space telescope

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aboardthebasilisk · 9 months

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Teaser: Meet our OFC love interest

The word most often used to describe Anathema was “striking.” She was possessed of a strong chin, wide shoulders, and was considered of above-average height for a woman. Her hair was the colour of blackest night and grew in thick and unruly curls about her head, and her eyes, as it was often remarked, were a quite unnatural shade of green. Her skin, while fair and unblemished, never seemed to take on the rosy glow of health in the shade so becoming of other girls, and whereas the other ladies in her social circle were small, soft, and plump, Anathema always felt herself to be all sharp edges and bony angles. In short, she would never pass as a beauty of the kind the men of the peerage tended to favour: diminutive little blossoms who would dance airily across the ballroom in wispy, floaty fabrics. Even the current fashions seemed to conspire against her, for the pinks and pastels of the season did not suit her colouring at all.

She often thought that if she could not be conventionally pretty, then at least it should be better to be plain. There is some dignity and respectability yet in being plain. Unremarkable features, by definition, do not require remarking on. A wallflower aways suits and may even complement her surroundings—at the very least, she does not detract from them. One possessed of simple features need not hesitate to embellish or accessorise, and her other features and personality may be allowed to shine where her looks do not. It is far easier to add than it is to subtract when it comes to the court of public opinion, after all.

Anathema, however…well, even her very name offends and marks her as a jarring element. Something to be accounted for…or explained away. She should be so lucky as to be the sort of girl who attracts no attention, for instead it seemed to her that she was always attracting the wrong sort of attention.

Like now, for example, with the portmaster’s assistant obviously gawping at her and unsure of how he was to proceed, or how he ought to categorise the singularity before him. A woman of evident good breeding and a fair fortune, but obviously unmarried and travelling in the sole company of a young man, sans lady’s maid. Had she been more comely, perhaps, more approachable, he may have dared strike up conversation, attempted some charm to get a feel for her. She could have then responded coquettishly—she was never very good at coquetry—and explained that she was travelling to the West Indies with her brother, where their father, the Right Honourable Lord Alastair Eckston, had been appointed the post of Royal Governor of the British colony of Black Point, which was to be a new magical-only community representing His Majesty’s interests abroad, and that she would be joining His Excellency's household and have access to her newly formed personal staff there upon arrival, and it was really all quite respectable, and—

His eyes slid off of her and away, where he studiously endeavoured to avoid looking at her or meeting her gaze, and her cheeks coloured. Really, Anthony could at least attempt to make clear the facts of their relationship so that these strange men did not think—well, think that this arrangement was in any way improper. They were to be sharing a cabin for Merlin’s sake—! If she had overheard that much, surely others had as well. But Anthony had never had a mind for these sorts of considerations, and even less so now.

She cast a sideways glance at him as he talked with the portmaster to solicit information about booking passage for the two of them on one of the outgoing trade vessels. He looked haggard and worn, as he had so often for the better part of this past month. His hair, the same inky black as her own, was in disarray. This was not wholly unusual for him, mind, but it usually looked more artfully windswept and rakishly handsome—and she despaired, as usual, the fact that the unruly tresses they had inherited from their mother were far more easily accepted when cut short and worn by a man—but today his hair stuck up every which way, like the feathers of some unfortunate bird who’d had a recent run-in with an angry barncat.

She noticed that another of the men on the dock was leering at her, and she stiffened. Really, this was just too much. She could only hope that, once she and Anthony were safely tucked away on a ship, that their situation would be known and it would be unnecessary to fend off any untoward assumptions about their identities and their reason for sailing so lightly.

Head over to AO3 and subscribe to Aboard the Basilisk so you don't miss any updates! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48911182

#ao3 fanfic #hogwarts legacy #pirate au #original female character #golden age of piracy

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adammilligan · 2 years

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michael and raphael were so distant when raphael died and michael was pulled into the cage i think it would be ridiculously funny if midam is what gets michael and raphael to repair their relationship. like raphael gets brought back because he's the only archangel who actually stuck with heaven his whole life and he doesn't actually care about destroying anything so he's like. a decidedly neutral kind of guy. and if anything happens (which it won't) jack can overpower him anyway etc etc whatever. anyway since michael DID rule heaven for so long he might go up there one (1) time if he's called just to make sure that they aren't wrecking the place because if heaven failed it would be a headache and a half to deal with and he and adam are trying to enjoy their honeymoon yknow how it is. anyway he goes up there and he and raphael have this really stunted exchange where michael's like sooooo. how's heaven coming along? and raphael's like. fine. this lasts for all of two seconds before raphael's like yknow what cut the shit what are you doing on earth that means that you can't be back up in heaven where you belong and michael instantly gets defensive about it because hello he's michael and is like i don't see how that's any of your business. which of course starts a standoff but then SOMEHOW raphael finally gets it out of him that he's just living. with his vessel. on earth. which of course makes him be like ??? michael what the fuck. and they start a whole argument about it because they're archangels that's what they do. anyway michael ends up leaving but when he gets home with adam he feels a little guilty about it because his character development kicks in and he realizes that raphael DID stick by him for all those eons in heaven and maybe he owes him more than just flying out mid-conversation. so he visits again and this time he does his best to keep his temper reigned in even when raphael starts throwing in insults about his "vessel" because he realizes that michael IS acting different than he used to. the old michael never would have came back to try again he probably just would've killed him. and it's all because of a change that some human inspired in him. not raphael or any of their other siblings. and that HURTS!

so naturally raphael kind of hates adam and they haven't even met. which michael won't stand for obviously because adam is his everything so he gets defensive AGAIN but tries to cool it for the sake of trying to be responsible for once. and this time when he leaves it's not mid-conversation it's just because they reached a sort of stony silence and there was nothing more to say. and obviously michael goes to talk to adam about it and adam's like dude idk he's your brother right? and he's not bad like lucifer was. you could start trying to treat him like a brother again instead of treating him like a subordinate (<-adam has no idea how sibling relationships he's trying his best) and of course michael is like honey you're a genius have i mentioned today that i love you. etc etc. so fast forward michael visits again and this marks the second time he’s dropped in unprompted which kind of gives raphael false hope that michael might ditch whatever idiotic thing he’s gotten himself into on earth and come back to heaven. which michael is not doing of course so they get into it AGAIN but this time michael’s trying to explain like no raphael you don’t understand he’s the one who kept me sane all throughout my time in hell. were it not for him i wouldn’t be talking to you like this today. they go on for a bit and michael leaves. comes back. raphael seems less angry at him this time and michael takes that chance to tell him things about adam that would maybe help raphael not hate him as bad because he’s still adam’s #1 defender and neither of them really want to talk about all the shit that happened after lucifer’s fall so this is like the only topic they can get through even if they can’t get through it. AND this is the most they’ve actually TALKED talked (not michael giving orders! actually talking!) in eons which is a miracle in itself. so anyway raphael starts acting all annoyed and shit every time michael starts talking about adam. which michael notices so he keeps doing it. it turns into a little routine. michael shows up tries to get raphael to like adam at least a little bit raphael acts annoyed michael leaves. and then one day michael is telling him about the time he accidentally stopped time when he was listening to adam rant because he loves to hear adam talk and raphael just looks at him and snorts and goes. made a fool of yourself, did you?

which kind of does trigger a change! because for the first time since lucifer’s fall raphael’s seeing michael act a bit like he used to before the civil war before the tyranny before everything. and that’s still his BROTHER and he still loves him despite everything so of course he has to tease him. at least once. and maybe he doesn’t say it out loud but hearing michael wax poetic about just some guy just some backup vessel IS kind of funny. because it’s MICHAEL! his brother who had always been the most terrifying of them all! the brother who he watched rip lucifer from heaven like it was nothing! and michael is kind of taken aback for a second before he smiles and he says yeah. i suppose so. and they aren’t on friendly terms exactly yet but they’re getting there. and raphael looks less exhausted like he did in those years leading up to the first apocalypse and more...better. still sad about how everything went down still irritated with michael for everything but better nonetheless. and it helps that he’s not having to act as a second-in-command anymore under a general he’s just there to provide an extra pillar of power and stability to heaven and make sure it’s functioning smoothly which does take some of the strain off of him! which loosens him up a bit! which helps! so michael keeps visiting and keeps talking because after a thousand years in hell with a human he’s much better at actually talking and not commanding than he used to be. and eventually one day michael asks raphael if he needs any help with anything and raphael says no. you can leave. aren’t you supposed to be your vessel’s problem now instead of mine? and at first glance it sounds dismissive but there’s something distinctly amused radiating from the core of raphael’s true form that michael notices and he laughs and he says, you have a point. i’ll see you next time? and raphael’s already turned around and he doesn’t say anything back but for the first time in a long time they’re looking forward to seeing each other again.

#like fundamentally michael by 15x19 has stopped seeing heaven as any sort of home. he never even goes back! he doesn't want to!#but to raphael heaven has always been home. and he would NOT understand at first why michael is rejecting it all of a sudden. etc etc.#anyway!#kate rambles #michael #raphael

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dragonofeternal · 1 year

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more thoughts about TSV x Trigun (or like one thought)

Comparisons/parallels/analogs between Stampede!Vash's overgrowth of roots and flora after being mindwiped by Knives and Paige's attempt to create a god of mercy and martyrs that steals sacrifices from other gods

Vash as this character who is all about mercy and kindness to others being turned into a weapon to rape his sisters and destroy humanity. An overflow of flora that eventually crystallizes into something that destroys an entire city and all the lives within it. He's a gate, he's a vessel, he's an instrument to see Knives's vision realized into this world.

Paige's attempt to make something incorruptible in a world that breeds and breathes and feeds on the corruption of the body and soul. Something meant to save people from being forced into a transmogrification against their will that grows forth a thing that the press can call "The Tree of Spite." A god that seems to operate less on actual mercy and succor and more on destruction between predator and prey, whose sanctifications spill out not just from it's stolen sacrifices but to surrounding wildlife, skewering seabirds with flowering crocus growing from the fish they try to consume.

Even the fucking sanctifying prayer for Paige's god has vibes of that scene, though honestly, more like Vash is being unwillingly sainted by Knives's ideas of the universe.........

I will die today. I will not die helpless. My death will not amount to nothing. My hand will draw the marks of my revolt. My flesh shall take the great shape of my revenge. I will steal myself away from their intent for me. My blood will not ripen their soil, nor shall my body blossom into their chosen colours. I will bring them fear instead. My death today shall be the quiver in the executioner’s hand tomorrow, the wavering doubt in the mind of the justice. I will be hallowed, but not for them. I will die. I will not die.

Or, as my dear friend @arahith far more eloquently put it on discord when I messaged these deranged thoughts to him:

What is the moral immune system of a world? There's a problem, people are hurting, but will this fever cure or kill?

This is probably incoherent to people who haven't listened to The Silt Verses and for that I truly apologize LOLLLLL.

(Uhhhh for those who like Trigun and are intrigued by my rambling here, Saints in TSV are a particular sort of human sacrifice in which a person (willing or unwilling) is transmogrified into a body horror-tastic reflection of a god as a form of worship or punishment or weapon. There are Saints that are mostly sacrifices (turn that dude who was gonna rat you out to the feds for illegal worship into a shrimp!!!), Saints who willingly undertake such transformations to become beacons or weapons for their faiths, Saints who are propped up like living reliquaries and you're left to wonder 'hey did your brother actually want to be turned into a horrible ink spewing maggot for your god of rotting parchment and secrets or did you just do this for some reason all your own????')

Anyway sorry for the rambling it will probably happen again LOLLLL

#The Sand Verses #I like to have a specific tag for my TSV fusions cuz I wanna be able to find them but I don't wanna spam the main series tag #Bc the fandom is so small #But seriously now that I'm looking through it through TSV lens DAMN DAMN KNIVES REALLY DID TRY TO MAKE HIS BROTHER INTO A SAINT HUH #trigun #vash the stampede #paige (TSV)#long post #just to be safe lol

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firecurls-27 · 1 year

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So you’ve done evil cupchal headcanons so why not for the whole family

Oooooooohhhhhhhhh good idea!

(Ps, I haven’t drawn evil kettle or mugan yet, but I will leave Headcanons for them!)

(These include cupchal and slight mugchal. Don’t like, don’t read.)

Elder kettle boil🫖🚬

He/him, aroace, (nobody knows how old he is, not even himself) 4/16/18??

- heavy chain smoker, he fucking REAKS.

- he’s a lot meaner than the original kettle.

- hangs out a lot at the craps table with the casino crew.

- the only reason he joined devils side is cause devil said there’s no rent for apartments in hell.

- still calls devil “Mrs meow meow” and devil fuckin HATES it-

- even if he’s a little meaner than his old self, he’s one of the only ones who will listen to mugman vile when he’s having a hard day….

Mugan glass🍼🔥

She/her, sexuality not yet defined, 6 month - 1 yo, 11/16/1933, speech impediment

- cuphead eve and mugman vile’s little sister

- very quiet, so you can’t hear her coming

- smuggler, she can steal anything she wants and no ones the wiser!

- baby bottle is her #1 nemesis.

- when she’s old enough, she wants to be part of her brother’s circus!

- loves her family to death, even if it is falling apart.

- carries a machete with her at all times, she hides it in her head-

Vessel shatter💸🗡

He/him, bisexual, 37 yo, 5/18/1896, ADHD(medicated), depression

- a lot quieter and less energetic that our beloved vessel.

- he and dice can’t even look at each other without crying.

- rethinking his marriage to thorn, she’s very mean to him. He misses the old her….rosé….god, even thinking that name makes him cry.

- *ahem* gay for Ludwig *ahem*-

- hates ms malice cause she’s just like him when he was a kid, so when she started dating eve, he got pretty pissed.

- mostly works at the casino in terms of money.

- he and vile don’t get along to well, but they would never hurt each other on purpose. Shatter cares about him to much to hurt him.

- also a heavy chain smoker, he’s trying to quit for his kids, he caught vile trying to smoke and it almost broke his heart.

Rosé thorn💔💋

She/her, polysexual, 36 yo, 6/22/1897,

- unlike our lovely rosé, thorn isn’t very kind to her family.

- she constantly pins the boys up against each other out of entertainment.

- her job is still singing but sometimes she’ll come home with someone else’s wallet, and a few kiss marks…

- is aware her husband isn’t happy anymore, and is really trying her best to be nicer. (By trying I mean not at all)

- she knows a good joke or two though! That’s where eve gets his humor!

- still a fashion queen✨

Mugman vile🎪🎭

He/she/they, bigender, pansexual, polyamorus, 12-15 yo, 2/18/1920, autistic, depression, anger issues

- big flirt, can date anyone he wants with just a wink.

- the Frank Sinatra of hell.

- stressed 24/7, but is too cocky to show it.

- ringmaster in him and his brother’s circus!

- he DID date malice for a while, but they didn’t really feel a “spark” y’know?

- part of him wants to get with ms malice again, so he asked his parents for help. Shatter said not to, because it’ll break eve’s heart, but thorn (because she was bored) said yes, that vile deserved her more than eve.

- so for a while, he did small gestures, flowers, chocolates, gifts, etc. but he clearly saw she loved eve more than anyone.

- he took his father’s advice, even if eve was a bafoon, he’s still his brother. Plus, I don’t think malice and vile would be very stable in marriage…

- he’ll find the right person some day! Maybe-

- remembers most of his past life, but not enough.

Cuphead eve (evil)💥🪗

He/they, transmasculine, bisexual, 10-13 yo, 9/29/1922, autistic, ADHD(unmedicated), anxiety, speech impediment,

- got him inspired by the mini joker (robin) from Batman beyond: return of the joker, a psychotic smile and SO much trauma-

- in the circus he and his brother runs, he’s a clown. he just doesn’t wear makeup. (Yet, I have to decide on the right design)

- very timid unlike our renowned cuphead, big people pleaser.

- stutters a lot, so he has trouble talking, but malice helps him out.

- has a bad habit of biting through his gloves when he’s nervous, so malice sews them up for him with fun patters. They’re his favorite pair.

- thinks he’s not good enough for malice…

- has very little memory of his past life, and stays awake at night trying to remember….

- one time, his old friends (Cora, Mac, canteen, buster) went to his carnival. After the performance, they met him in his dressing room trying to get him to remember them. He did, until big D walked in. He was telling eve that he had a good performance, that’s when his friends had to leave…..they come over every now and then trying to get him back to normal.

Bonus:

Ms chalice Ms malice🩰💕

She/they, demigirl, omnisexual, 11-14 yo (physically), 6/30/????, dyslexic, depression

- trapeze artist in the circus!

- when she started dating eve, she was just trying to get back at vile. But eve gave malice something not a lot of people gave her: kindness

- eve is literally the only person she’s nice too. Everyone else can go fuck themselves-

- she, boil and shatter are the only ones who fully remember their pasts.

- she and shatter constantly try to murder each other.

- she loves teaching eve and glass new dance moves!

- literally Devil’s BFF, she joins him in musical hour.

- honestly, she’s friends with a lot of people in hell!

(Note: I will add more if I get more ideas soon! Hope you like them! Which ones your favorite?)

#my post #ask firecurls #cuphead #cuphead: ddwtd #the cuphead show #cuphead au #cuphead oc #demitasse family au #bad end au #tw smoking #cupchal #evil cupchal

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