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wordsinhaled · 9 months

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i’m so totally normal about the fact that aziraphale’s last (known) deliberate foray into the queer community was when he learned the gavotte at the fictionalized hundred guineas club (!!!) in the 1800s and now in the 2020s he’s like “grindr? what’s that?”

many are talking about his repression which is very valid… and yet the thing to me that stands out about aziraphale is that he’s actually… incredibly stable in his identity and that identity IS incredibly queer. queer by the standards of heaven AND by human standards as well

metatron describes his “de facto partnership” with crowley as “irregular.” and in fact aziraphale in his entirety is irregular. he likes and makes it his business not only to understand but to be a connoisseur of all manner of things angels aren’t supposed to even remotely care about. food. music. books. theatre. sleight of hand. and more.

it’s the sort of behavior that would’ve gotten him othered, treated as a bit odd, in heaven even if he hadn’t chosen to consort all across the earth with a literal demon. and it IS treated that way - the fact is aziraphale even as an angel has got proclivities that set him apart from the rest of the host (even after offering him the highest position in heaven, metatron still acts deeply dismissive of him… like aziraphale’s bookshop is merely a quaint little hobby of his that can be easily transferred to another custodian, and not a literal extension of who aziraphale has become, full of his tartan and unique bibles and special vintages of wine and the books arranged in a very specific way)

so. aziraphale is a queer angel but of course he’s also queer to other humans. but in such a way that… he had his realization a LONG time ago, and put the matter very much to rest after that. aziraphale is perpetually something like several centuries behind schedule. he owns an ancient computer that probably continues to run windows 98 simply because aziraphale’s decided it should. he wears the same waistcoat and coat for generations because he simply likes them precisely the way they are and sees no reason to change them. but the idea that he doesn’t know how he comes across to others - of course he does. he knows he looks like your prim and proper grandfather and he prefers it that way

aziraphale looked around at humans in the 1880s and said: ah yes. this is where i fit. and promptly ensconced himself in that queer subculture. learned the gavotte. read his austen. loved crowley from afar. aziraphale is fiercely and vibrantly queer. just with the sort of assurance of someone who lives with his lover in a commonlaw marriage for decades and then shows up at city hall for the certificate once society decides it’s ‘allowed.’ like… he hasn’t had any need to know what grindr is because aziraphale’s ‘scene’ was a century and a half ago and it defined romance for him too.

but my favorite thing about aziraphale is how much of him is about appearances versus the truth. he can lie straight to angels’ faces and sleep at night. he knows he comes off soft but he once wielded a flaming sword. he dissembles helplessness but he’s far from it and he knows precisely how it makes others treat him. and at the core of aziraphale is rigidity, inflexibility of ideas… his sense of self is stable where crowley’s is malleable, and so on, and so on

and the fact that he’s continuously fixated on trying to misguidedly do the right thing, the fact that he seeks heavenly approval and wants to fit the world into his schema of good vs evil… in no way do i think that means he isn’t one hundred percent aware of how he feels about crowley or what it means about him by angelic or human standards. i’ve seen some folks saying that aziraphale doesn’t want to like kissing crowley and like… as much as i love me some brideshead revisited/atonement flavored angst; i put forth that it’s not internalized homophobia or queer panic but simply: “i’m trying to do the right thing for both of us and you won’t let me.” and “i wanted our first kiss to be different.” he was envisioning an entirely different flavor of romance than what he got but he emma woodhoused too close to the sun

like, y’all. aziraphale in all likelihood has a glorious collection of historical queer erotica. he just has a feathery diva coat hanging in his closet, and for what. “oh, good lord” he says at crowley’s revolutionary outfit in the bastille, while eyeing him up like an entire meal. he’s so good at affected propriety, at carefully constructed stuffiness, but between the two of them aziraphale’s got to be the one who has experience

aziraphale had been physically throwing himself at crowley the entire season. he orchestrated an entire regency ball so they could touch hand to hand. he spends the entire season (well, and season 1) looking at crowley like he’s particularly coveted. he looked at crowley before the fall like he was glorious and beautiful. aziraphale’s queer and he knows it and i think that isn’t his problem, it’s the fact that he wants to build a different sort of future for the two of them but crowley’s gone and thrown a wrench in it by reminding him of everything he can finally have. like. that’s the heartbreak. it’s how dare you make this ugly? i forgive you for our first kiss being all pain and salt. it’s my dearest, i wanted to make heaven as beautiful as you deserve. as sacred and safe for us as our bookshop. and i can do that for us, because once i held a flaming sword and i still remember how the hilt felt in my hands. and now the taste of you is in my mouth.

#coughs this is also why aziraphale’s a dom. but that’s a separate post #good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #good omens 2 spoilers #this continues to be an aziraphale stan account #‘aziraphale is traumatized’ and ‘aziraphale celebrates the part of himself that loves crowley’ are two ideas that can coexist #feeling a bit like this take might get me flamed whoops but. i’m deep in my az feelings tonight so i guess i’ve decided to share anyway

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dollyhao · 7 months

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pastor’s wife!reader x perv!ellie

summary: ellie moves to a new neighborhood and is instantly infatuated with her innocent, married next door neighbor.

cw: teasing, dirty thoughts, cunnilingus (r!receiving), fingering, talk of the bible and church. (yall ion know shit bout church but i hope this is satisfying i know some people were excited about this.)

word count: 1.8k

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

how fucking unlucky does ellie have to be to move next door to a damn pastor. ellie moved in 2 weeks ago when the pastor was at her door for a ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ visit. ellie has to literally stop herself from rolling her eyes at him when he mentions ellie coming to the church sometime that is until ellie sees someone out of her peripheral vision walking over to the two of them.

ellie feels like the world slows down. she sees a young woman, older than her but still young, walk over to her and the pastor holding a glass container of cupcakes. “hello, these are for you. welcome to the neighborhood!” you say with a beaming smile, handing over the cupcakes. you're wearing a ribbon as a headband and a knee length length dress with knee-high socks on. looking impossibly cute and innocent.

“hi, i’m ellie by the way.” ellie responds smiling a seemingly sweet smile, but there is nothing innocent going through her mind. “this is my wife,” the pastor said wrapping his arm around your waist. ellie literally cringes, he's like, twice your age. ellie sees you slowly pull out his hold with a strained smile.

“oh well thank you. i have to go back inside. it was nice meeting you two though.” ellie gives a tight slip smile. “of course. don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything and i mean anything.” you say grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze. you and the pastor walk off back to your house and ellie closes the door.

now she might be tripping but ellie thinks that you were hinting at something with that last statement but she probably just imagined it.

that night, ellie is playing a game on her pc when she takes a quick look out the window but does a double take when she sees you in a soft purple underwear and bra set rubbing lotion on your legs. ellie has a direct view of your tits and how they sit just perfect in that bra.

you walk away from the window digging through your drawers, still in her line of sight, to get a cute, short silky night gown. your back is towards her when you go to pull the nightgown over your head, she has the perfect view of your ass. fuck, ellie just wants to bend you over that same bed your senior citizen of a husband sleeps in and fuck the shit out of you until your begging for her to let you cum. you walk over to the window looking directly at ellie, there’s no mistaking it this time, blushing at her before pulling the curtains closed. she swears she sees a small smile.

ellie is totally dripping wet right now. and shes decided, ellie has to have you.

ellie walks over to you a couple days later while your outside gardening one morning. you look up at her, "hi ellie!" you say standing, taking your gloves off giving her your full attention. "hey i was hoping you could teach me more about the bible and.. stuff." ellie doesn't know anything about this shit or care, but if it gets her in your pants, she's all for it.

"of course ellie! i'd love to. meet me at church tomorrow?"

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"please give donations to the church, they are going to a family in need right here in our community thank you and have a blessed day." the pastor says. everyone stands and walks around conversing. ellie is standing against a wall in the back of the church, watching you.

you shake hands and smile with gossipy older women. she waits until the church is practically empty and your picking up items left on seats putting them in the lost-n-found, to approach you. "ellie!" you say smiling at her, "when did you get here, i didnt see you through the whole sermon?" "a little while ago, i watched from the back," she says hands in her pocket and standing infront of you, "you look cute" she says looking at your lilac dress.

"thank you.." you say giving her a shy smile, walking over to the lost n found box, with her following behind. you put the random stuff in the box turning around finding ellie really close. "did you enjoy the um…sermon?" you whisper staring into her eyes. ellie hums, putting a hand on your waist.

she leans in, her lips ghosting yours. you lean forward before ellie backs up. "i dont really feel like the bible reading today. how bout next week?" she says hand rubbing up and down your waist. you nod, too nervous to talk. "...y-yea, thats fine. ill see you then." you say when you finally find your voice. ellie walks out leaving you there confused and excited.

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everyday the next week, ellie has been going over to your house for an hour to read the bible, with or without your husband there, trying to get closer to you. while you two are sitting on your couch one day, your reading a passage from the book, while ellie's staring at your face, not giving a fuck about what your reading, just thinking how pretty you would look with her dick in ya mouth.

you glance up at ellie catching her staring. you sit the book between the two of you, resting your head on the back of the couch, staring back. then you start giggling, "whats so funny." ellie says setting her copy of the book down too. "your so pretty ellie." you give her a soft smile. ellie blushes, shes not used to people calling her pretty, not even ex-girlfriends.

"thank you. your very beautiful yourself" she says not looking you in the eye. you scoot closer to her, "lets be friends ellie." you say grabbing her hands in yours, looking at her with those bambi eyes. "yea? i would like that, but if were going to be friends we can't read the bible every time we're together." ellie says chuckling.

"of course, how bout we watch a movie?" you suggest standing up, walking over to the tv. ellie knows that the movies you have are probably super PG, so she suggests you go over to her house 'because her tv is bigger'.

you get to ellie’s house and she puts on the gayest wlw movie she has. you two are snuggled on the couch under a blanket when a kiss scene comes on. the scene starts sweet but turns dirty quick. ellie looks over at you expecting to see shock but instead sees you squirming.

"you alright?" ellie asks whispering in your ear. you nod your head quickly. "im ok." you sit there for a couple more seconds, watching the scene before grabbing the remote and pausing it. you turn towards ellie, "i have a confession." you say looking down playing with your ring again. "what is it?"

you take a deep breath before mumbling, "i.. i like to watch girl on girl... videos." ellie looks at you shocked, this was gonna be easier than she thought. "i know its a sin to watch those kind of videos let alone the gay kind. but whenever i watch it, i just feel so... horny." you say, whispering that last part, glancing up at ellie. "im not sure im attracted to my husband... or men in general. and i know you like girls, i saw how you were looking at me from the window a couple weeks ago... so will you show me?"

ellie blinks, shes been trying to stop a smirk from breaking across her face the whole time you've been rambling. "show you what?" ellie knows what you mean but she wants to hear you say it. "show me what its like," you grab her hand placing it on your boob, "to be touched by a girl." she can't wait no more, she has to kiss you.

ellie leans in kissing you deeply, cradling your head slowly pushing you to lay back on the couch never disconnecting your lips. ellie slowly trails her hands from your breast to your waist while pushing her tongue in your mouth. you whimper already soaked. ellie is going too slow for you, you need more, so you lift her shirt up running your hands over her tummy hoping she'll get the message.

ellie takes off your dress straps pulling the dress down under your boobs. you have this cute white lace bra on. ellie disconnects her lips from yours looking down at you, she groans cupping your boob, "you have no idea how sexy you are." she whispers before biting and sucking on your boobs.

she sits up to look at you. your breathing heavy, with your tits covered with spit and bites and your dress askew. "cmon ellie. your taking too long." you say grabbing her hand putting it under your dress. "how impatient.." ellie grins leaning back down, kissing on your neck pulling your panties to the side, running her fingers up and down your pussy feeling just how wet you are. "have you ever been this wet before?" she asks popping her finger in her mouth.

"no, never..." your breathing gets heavier as ellie slides her finger into you curling it. your back arches gripping on the couch cushion, moaning out ellie's name. ellie lowers herself giving you little kitten licks, making you buck for more. ellie latches on to your clit sucking and licking while fucking you with her two fingers.

you chant her name gripping onto her hair. you are seeing white spots, "omg ellie, i-i feel weird.." ellie chuckles coming back up to bite at the sensitive spot under your ear, fucking you faster. "you gonna cum baby, you ever did that before?" she asks biting at your ear. you shake your head, feeling the knot in your tummy burst. you moan out, whimpering as ellie lets you ride out your orgasm.

she pulls her fingers out, popping them in her mouth again staring you in your eyes. you let out a cute mewl. ellie sits up, looking down at you. "how do you feel?" ellie says as you pant with a dazed look on your face. you look at her flustered, wrapping your arms around her shoulder, pulling her down to you, planting sweet pecks on her lips.

“Like i wanna do it again.” you smile.

@aouiaa @elliespookie @thefrenchlesbian @bratydoll @elliens4

#lesbian #wlw #the last of us #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou

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fribbitz · 4 months

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a dirkjohnner put this Pastor's Son AU in my brain and now I made art about it :3 alt version w/ text and small fic under the cut !!!

(Theyre reading Jeremiah 2:30)

You met him in bible study.

You're not Christian, in fact, you wouldn't even consider yourself mono-theistic agnostic, your Bro encouraged you to go to a study as an excuse to get you out of the house for a while, and since biblical lore is pretty dope, it didn't seem like a bad idea. So, snagging the gold-colored Bible from off your living room shelf was the only attempt you made at fitting in before you walked into the First Methodist Church at the end of the block eight minutes before the Bible study was set to begin.

Walking into the office space-esque room, you can see a dark-haired boy sitting at the round table, he's dressed like a nerd and in any other situation, you would walk right up and tell him so. As you take your seat, one facing his, he seems to glance at you from over his notes once or twice, he has verses written down with comments under each one. The session hasn't even started and the kid has notes?

The allotted time for the start of the study strikes and you don't even open the Bible you brought, a Gideon's taken from a hotel room drawer, apparent from the small stamp of a vase on the cover.

The nerd stands up, and before you can think he's just headed to the bathroom, He introduces himself, "Good morning everybody, My name is John Egbert, but please call me John!" he must be pastor Egbert's son then, "And I'll be leading you in study today!" His smile gleams so brightly that if it weren't for your shades you would've gone blind. He straightens and flattens his tie as he bows slightly and sits back down to review his notes.

Yeah, you're totally coming to the next study.

#finally a full drawing #i opened an actual art program for this instead of using mspaint #dirk strider #john egbert #word count: 301 #dirkjohn #johndirk #bytez art tag #homestuck #homestuck fanart

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myhaikyuuacademia · 6 days

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Totally fake | Ant x Reader (Heartbreak High)

Fake dating, fem!reader A/N: it’s been a while since I watched s1 so forgive me if the timeline is a little wonky. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You had no idea how you got yourself in this… situation. In this mess, honestly. Thanks to Amerie, the whole school life had imploded. Thanks a lot, Map Bitch. Now here you were, standing next to her trying to get a ticket for the party as Ant told her about how his mom reacted to the whole Darren wristy thing. Your face twinged up in sympathy. Somehow Quinni and Darren had adopted Amerie into your friendgroup after the whole thing, so here you were, supporting your new friend. Well, it was more like she dragged you along. Moral support or something. Ant ended up telling Ams to go ask Spider and she trudged away disappointed, but you stayed, hesitating. “Um, I’m sorry about your mom.” You offered. What a stupid thing to say, you cursed yourself. Boys made you nervous. “Yeah, it really sucks. I love Jesus and all but going to church 3 more times a week is reaaaaally boring.” He groaned. You began walking to your next class together. “Um.” You started talking before you could think. You were a fixer, it was a whole thing. A pathological need to fix things, which is why you couldn’t really be against Quinni and Darren taking Amerie in, you wanted to help fix this. But sometimes in your need to fix things you went a little overboard. You realized that that was what you were doing after you had already started talking, and now you didn’t know what to say. But being quiet now was also embarrassing. “What’s up?” Ant stopped and leaned against the doorway of your classroom. Looking at you expectantly. Fuck it. “Maybe I could help.” You looked at him. “With your mom I mean.” He looked confused, his brows furrowing as he tried to figure out what you were proposing. “How?” Taking a deep breath in, you began rambling the plan that had formed in your head in the span of maybe 10 seconds. Which in hindsight, perhaps was a sign that this was a really dumb idea. “Well. I’m assuming your moms problem is that Darren is not a girl. Because you’re Christian and all. Which, I don’t know, not very Christian, ya know? Loving your neighbour and all. But anyway. If her problem is in fact that, I am a very good liar, I know enough about like the bible and stuff, and I happen to be a girl…” You trail off. He looked as confused as he did before you started talking, which, honestly, you figured this would not be enough to get him to understand. It was just too embarrassing to finish. You felt cold all of a sudden. Nervous. Rubbing your arms for warmth, or perhaps in an attempt to rub the nervousness away. “I’m saying I could be your fake girlfriend until she calms down.” You finally huffed out. “Ohhhhhhh” You swore you could almost see the lightbulb that went off above his head. “Gotcha.” He nodded contemplatively. “You’re really smart, y/n, I’m impressed.” Still nodding. You were a little surprised he knew your name. People tended to not know it because you mostly kept to yourself outside of your friendship with Darren and Quinni. And you hadn’t talked to Ant before, like literally ever. Yeah you shared a lot of classes, but he didn’t really seem to pay attention and so far you had never been paired with him for any group work. “Let’s do it.” He grinned, excitedly. “Wait what?” Your eyes widened in surprise. “For real?” You didn’t know what you expected his answer to be, but for some reason you hadn’t prepared yourself for a yes.

“Yeah! I’m in! I only see positives honestly. I get to pretend to date the coolest girl I know and get my mom off my back.” Wait, what did he say? The coolest girl he knows? Huh? You blinked in confusion as he left you standing in front of the open door to go to his seat. Autopilot activated you went to your seat, in between Darren and Quinni. Completely zoned out your eyes trained on Ant who was sitting a couple rows ahead and to your right. “Earth to y/n, repeat Earth to y/n.” A hand was waving in front of your face and you blinked as you turned to Darren. “huh?”. “What’s wrong with you today, space girl?” They asked. “What?” Your brain hadn’t completely caught up yet. “Why were you talking to Ant?” Quinni asked excitedly. Why was she excited? “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you talk to him before.” She mused. Uh. What were you supposed to tell them? Both of them looked at you expectantly. Completely frozen, your brain refused to cooperate. “I.. uh. Amerie. Party. Slapband. You know?” The words were more stuttered out than said, and they did in fact not know what you meant. Your saviour came in the form of a very out-of-breath Amerie, who was almost late to class, but just almost. She fell into her seat next to Quinni and immediately started babbling about whatever it was she was up to after she had left you and Ant, taking all attention off of you. And if they saw you staring at Ant the whole class, they didn’t say anything. Yet.

By the end of the school day you had bounced back, the whole Ant thing still nagging at a corner of your brain but not at the front anymore. Until you were walking out the school gate with Darren, Quinni and Amerie, that is. “Hey, y/n, Wait up!.” This caught the attention of your more than nosy friends. You stopped and turned around to see Ant jogging up with a stupidly cute grin on his face. “Um, hi, what’s up?” Your face felt unusually flushed. Your friends looked at you like they were vultures and you, and the ensuing gossip that would come from this, their prey. You didn’t need to look at them to know that. “Here.” He held out a slapband. “You don’t have one yet, do you?” “No, I don’t, actually.” You were about to tell him that you were not interested. Partys? Not your thing. But the way he looked at you, and the fact that he got you one and went out of his way to give it to you, rendered you incapable of rejecting it. He was waiting for you to take it, or do something to accept it, so you lifted your arm and held it out in front of him. He slapped it on your arm and you mumbled out a thank you. “No worries, babe.” He leaned in and gave you quick peck on the cheek before he proceeded to wink at you and then leave with a wave and a “See you later!”. You almost dropped to your knees. What the hell just happened. Wide-eyed you looked after him, hand lifting to touch the cheek he had just kissed, legs still awfully wobbly. “BABE?!?!?!” A chorus of awestruck half-yells ripped you out of your moment, seconds before your friends came into view in front of you and crowded you. This was… too much. You gave up trying to keep your legs steady and dropped down to the ground, sitting on your knees, before shifting to sit criss-cross applesauce. “Whoa, shit girl, you okay?” Amerie dropped down next to you. Not trusting your voice you simply nodded yes. “Oh my god, you and Anthony Vaughn?” Darren crouched down next, almost scandalized by what they had just witnessed. “Oh, are we sitting now?” Quinni, bless her, sat down next to you. “Yeah…” You just said, to no one in particular, nodding. “Oh my god, you’re like, a total goner.” Amerie laughed. “I am?” You turned to look at her with puppy-dog eyes. Before this day started, you had never talked to Anthony Vaughn before, and now, before it ended, you were apparently head over heels for him. You blamed it on hormones, or some kind of chemical inbalance in your brain. Because… there was no way, right?

This would make the fake-dating significantly harder, you concluded, after you had time to mull it over. You and your friends had continued sitting on the ground for a good 10 minutes, before you felt stable enough to attempt standing and walking again. Of course they all had a million questions, yelling simultaneously, trying to understand what they had just witnessed. You had no idea what to tell them. “I will tell you once I know.” You end up saying, which leads to more questions. “Seriously guys, not right now.” You couldn’t tell them anything before you lined up stories with Ant. Well, technically you could tell them it was all fake, but they were all huge blabbermouths, and you wanted to check in with Ant first, before doing anything. You hadn’t expected him to just… go and do that. Like, at least you had expected talking to him once, or maybe twice, about what being in a fake relationship entailed, you know, lining up stories, where, what, who, when…. What kind of person his mother was, how far to go, how much to do to make it believable. But now everything had kind of blown up and it had to wait. You didn’t even have his number, you realized, after you were finally alone. The gang had tried to peer-pressure you into making this a whole goss-sesh at the diner, but you managed to worm your way out of it. Now they would probably just do it anyway, but without you to defend yourself. Not that there was anything you could say right now. Frustrated you blew a piece of hair out of your face. This was gonna be one hell of a week.

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blackphanto · 3 months

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Trying to overanalyze Lucifer's design

The Hazbin Hotel season 1 finale was fucking insane. I loved everything and especially Lucifer, whom I am dedicating this post to.

Let's begin with his "normal" form

Lucifer wears a ringleader costume bc Hell is one giant circus and he's the ringleader, but did you know that there's actually more to it?

A ringmaster, -mistress or -leader is like the opening act of a circus. They show you around, introduce the other acts and keep you hooked. They are essentially the glue that keeps the circus together. Another definition of a ringmaster, -mistress or -leader talks about an actual leader who leads a group of people, mostly through the act of doing illicit or unlawful activities. A role that would suit Lilith better than Lucifer. Sins could be seen as unlawful activities in Heaven's eyes and Lucifer is the cause of how evil found its way to earth, one could say that he was the one to lead the sinners in their sinful behavior in life. Yet, in death - if we go by Charlie's storybook - Lilith was the one leading the sinners to rise up against Heaven, another illicit activity that has led to their eventual doom.

Luci also wears a top hat with his crown on top of it. The hat gives him some extra height so I doubt that he wears it for any other reason. His crown is mostly covered with a snake and a red apple on the side. The snake can have 2 meanings: 1) how the word 'seraphim' in Hebrew can be translated to 'fiery serpent', due to his six wings, Lucifer is likely a seraph. 2) he was the serpent that tempted Eve, although never confirmed in any religious text, this idea of him being that snake is really popular in every reiteration of that story. This would also be why there's an apple motive following the Morningstars. Now let's move on to...

Angelic/demonic form

I don't think what we are seeing here is his full angelic/demonic form, but considering that the other Princes' forms aren't as scary either it is likely the case. The first thing that caught my attention were the horns and overall resemblance this form has to Charlie's, but let's focus on the differences.

In the first image, the snake and apple have turned into some sort of halo, a nod that his actual halo has disappeared when he fell and unlike Vaggie his wings probably didn't get ripped off, but I do believe they were different to how they were when he was behind the Pearly Gates. He has a tail and horns, classic demon imagery, there are 6 eyes at the end of his coat and there's one more on his bowtie, which makes a total of 8 eyes on Lucifer's design. The eyes are a common returning motive in Heaven and with angels.Luci also has a flame in-between his horns. This honestly reminded me of Baphomet, but they would likely be a Candle head from the Sloth ring. In the Bible, fire is often depicted as the presence of God, but I'm a firm believer that Hazbin has a deistic God view (see my other post), so I doubt that's the case here. The fire was likely chosen because Hell is associated with fire and he's the king of Hell so they thought it would make sense.

Like father, like daughter

As stated before, Lucifer and Charlie share a lot of similar elements. She's essentially him without wings and with longer hair. They both have a red sclera with a yellow iris. Their tail is pitch black with a heart cut out at the end and despite having white skin, Lucifer's arms are greyish. I always thought they were gloves, but no, man's face doesn't match his hands. I really like this shot of them right here, they look so badass!

Charlie also seems to be getting a new ability which has to do with her arm getting bigger and blocking Adam. This might be a callback to whatever was going on with her arm in her first design.

That was it thanks for reading <3

#hazbin hotel #a24 #vivziepop #lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #prime video #hazbin hotel season 1 #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel theory #hazbin theory

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actual-changeling · 4 months

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I have written many meta posts and s3-theories, and read even more, but I got hit by an idea I have not seen before. (If there is another post, please link it!)

After vibrating for an hour and losing my mind in my dms, I have no scraped together enough brain cells to present what is probably my first actual 'main-plot meta'.

Welcome to another edition of Alex's unhinged meta corner, today with a title to honour Crowley's James Bond obsession and the possibility of another heaven heist.

I give you:

From Jesus with Love - You Will Live Twice

Now, let's get right into it.

I think Neil might have told us more about the main s3 plotline in the announcement article than we previously thought. We all got stuck on 'they're not talking'—for good reason—but it is the part before that which has been bugging me ever since then.

The plans are going wrong—and this time that is a problem for earth and humanity. Turning that around, it means that whatever that plan consists of would be the way to go and beneficial for everyone, the opposite of the main plot of s1.

"They need to prevent the Second Coming (SC)" is pretty much the only and most popular idea I have seen, hundreds of fics and metas and whatnot have been written about it, but I think there's a good chance we're wrong. If we're not, well, I will honestly just be happy to be watching season 3.

Whatever the Metatron is planning will have negative consequences for everyone, or as Michael puts it: "And so… it ends. Everything ends. Time and the world is over, and we begin Eternity… forever and ever."

It sounds very much like Apocalypse #1 - Same Old Plan, same expected result, yet if we look at different interpretations of scripture we find that the SC is not entirely about complete destruction and death for all of humanity—it is about creating a new world/migrating to the kingdom of God.

This is taken from the Wikipedia article about the SC

Resurrection and life in a world to come are a direct contradiction to the result Michael is explaining—total annihilation of humanity.

Now, I am neither religious in any way nor have I ever received any sort of biblical education. Luckily, Christians seem to love talking about the bible because there are dozens of bible website to wade through. If I get anything wrong, please point it out, I have never touched a bible in my life.

So, after reading many, many quotes by a bunch of different guys, I tried to create a somewhat coherent picture of what the SC might look like based on the assumption that the end result is positive. I will talk about how they can be interpreted more in-depth later, otherwise this would turn into a string-net very fast.

Additionally, we can also see where these points overlap with the statement Jimbriel gave in the bookshop in episode three.

What is Jesus' job description?

only God knows when and how exactly it will begin/happen, no one else does, including Jesus and the Metatron

a lot of different catastrophes are mentioned or quoted as something Jesus said, like earthquakes and storms -> Jimbriel mentioned a tempest and great storms

there is also the line "All these are the beginning of birth pains." Birth pains dictate that there will be a birth—birth of the world to come perhaps?

dead people will be resurrected/leave their graves so that they too can be judged (I'd say participate in it but that sounds like the Second Coming is a summer camp activity)

there are also mentions of stars and the heavens in general falling from the sky and the sun going dark -> Jimbriel also mentions darkness as one of the signs

great lamentations, as Jimbriel says, are also a part of many different passages, with humans mourning the world as it was

the Lord will descent with the voice of an Archangel and the sound of a trumpet/the trumpet of God; the grammatical structure of that sentence seems to be interpreted differently depending on who you ask, but the voices of angels/an Archangel and some sort of trumpet are common terms

once everyone is in heaven/wherever the 'main even' will take place, a judgement call will be made for every single person in relation to the book of life, which decides whether they will be punished forever or not (one passage talks about a lake of fire and mentions it several times in a row)

And this is where it gets tricky. To figure out what the SC looks like, we first need to understand a) what the Metatron's capabilities are, b) what he has to lose, and c) what exactly would be a threat to him.

If you ask me, all of this comes down to the Metatron wanting to stay and be in power for eternity with full control over angels so he can do as he please, aka keeping the system running as it is.

We know the book of life (bol) is a thing in the Good Omens universe, whether it does what Michael said is an entirely different question. So far, we have also only got confirmation that hell collects and tortures souls—in such large amounts that they are understaffed—while heaven looks completely empty.

The Metatron runs heaven as an institution, he seems to be the highest power any of the angels have access to and the one they defer to. He refers to himself as the voice of God and combines judge, jury and executioner, making him one great celestial dictator.

From what we know of hell, they do things a lot more democratically, having different councils, dukes, and ranks that are responsible for different levels of command.

We also know that that the Metatron wants the world to end, his goals can probably be summarized as the statement Michael makes, which would leave him in charge without any opposing forces.

We also also know that he sees Crowley and Aziraphale as a threat—why exactly remains a mystery for now—and that the success of his plan hinges on having a Supreme Archangel (SA) he can control. Gabriel decided to become princess of hell and Beez' sugar baby, so he was out of the equation, and after the Armageddon disaster, I don't think he wants to risk failing because of an unfamiliarity with earth (plus, y'know, getting our two idiots away from the plan).

It's interesting to me that right at the end, he says to Aziraphale "We call it the Second Coming"—call, not it is or it will be, CALL. We know that nothing Neil writes is a coincidence, definitely not with such an important line.

Just because you CALL something a specific name doesn't mean it IS what you call it, e.g. Aziraphale calls Crowley a foul fiend when we know he very much isn't.

The Metatron is selling his plan as part of the "Great/Ineffable Plan", so any questions can be blocked by saying it's God's will, it's ineffable. Whatever his plan is, he hides it behind the concept of the Second Coming, which angels know just enough about to understand the basics without having in-depth knowledge of what exactly it entails.

It is a good fucking strategy, I'll give him that, and it WORKS because angels—even if they have doubts—do not question. They simply don't; fear of punishment and millennia of conditioning have left them in a horrible place. When they encounter something unknown, their response is "I already knew that" as to not ask questions.

Crowley questions, we know that, and Aziraphale, ohhhhh, Aziraphale ALSO questions, but he does it in a less dangerous and obvious way. The Metatron is vastly underprepared for that.

(Side note: That alone would be its own meta post, but the gist is that he questions heaven's plans and then adjusts his assumptions of what God might want to what he WANTS God to want, e.g. Job, the Arch)

To summarize everything I just said, the Metatron wants to do what Armageddon failed to do—destroy earth and the universe—so he can be supreme dictator of all remaining celestial beings and gorge himself on power.

But instead of calling it his Big Evil Plan, he calls it the Second Coming, making everyone play along without resistance.

We cycle aaaaall the way back to the sentence I quoted—the ACTUAL plans are going wrong since the Metatron's would mean total destruction.

But what is the SC supposed to be if not the Apocalypse 2.0?

When I look at all the different aspects of the SC and assume a positive outcome, then the end result to me would be a new world that is pretty much like the old world, or maybe even literally the old world but with any destruction reversed. Heaven and hell get dissolved since now that everyone has been "judged", they as institutions are no longer needed, they have fulfilled their purpose.

No more judgement means there is no reason to keep track anymore, so why do you need to run celestial corporations whose only job is doing exactly that? You don't—and THAT is what I believe is the biggest perceived threat to the Metatron, losing full control over everyone and everything, losing his position, his title, and whatever else he has.

On top of that, Good Omens has told us again and again that God doesn't seem to give a fuck about good and evil anymore, and that without heaven and hell being all wrapped up in it, humanity would have 100% free will without any consequences.

Maybe the BoL is empty, maybe it isn't real, maybe Jesus stole it to straighten a wobbly table, who knows. There is a chance it is what Michael says, but I would admittedly find that a bit. too obvious and boring since it would boil the plot down to "they save their own asses again" and not "they save humanity at all cost".

Regarding Crowley and Aziraphale's role in this—I have Thoughts TM but those definitely need their own post. In short, they have to get the SC back on track, the real one.

If you have made it this far, thank you for working through what I hope are more or less coherent rambles. Any spelling or grammar mistakes are my own.

Questions? Thoughts? Corrections? Expansions and additions?

Feel free to add to this post however you like (and I can't believe I have to mentions this but if you clown on my post or behave like an asshole you will be blocked).

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avelera · 9 months

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Thinking about blasphemy and Good Omens right now and I can't help but notice an interesting phenomenon around some discussions I've seen about the Second Coming and Jesus Christ being a character in S3.

Namely, I see much more underlying discomfort around the possibility of the show poking fun at the figure of Jesus Christ than I do with any other prediction discussion or discussion around religion in the show.

On the one hand, I completely understand how poking fun at the Antichrist dogma from Revelations doesn't feel particularly blasphemous, where poking fun at Jesus does. The Antichrist is a stock character of horror at this point. Many more disrespectful teams than Gaiman and Pratchett have played with that story. It's barely even considered poking fun at Christianity to have Adam, the son of Satan, be a good kid in Good Omens. But Jesus is a very important figure to Christians all over the world. There are devout Christians who truly love Jesus and no one wants to be a jerk by just outright disrespecting a figure that is dear to so many.

But on the other hand, expecting Good Omens to not make fun of Jesus is a bit absurd to me. Literally saying, "I don't think the satirical religion show is going to satirize religion because it might upset people." Gaiman hasn't shied away from messing with religion or religious bigots before. He gleefully shrugged off attacks over God being a woman, or Adam and Eve being portrayed by people of color.

The Book of Job is lampooned in Season 2. I know it doesn't feel like it to many people here, but the reinterpretation of the Book of Job in S2 definitely registers as blasphemy on some religious scales. It is satirizing a religious text after all.

Saying that angels and demons fall in love and worse, have that love be portrayed by actors of the same sex could be seen as blasphemy at the very least on the level of saying God is a woman. And by the way, it's not like these religious texts say "God is whatever you want the entity to be" or "God is a woman if that makes you happy". Hell no, the Bible is extremely damn clear on God being male. The official position of the Catholic Church is that God is male. Official Catholic dogma is incredibly anti-female in terms of inherent holiness, women cannot become priests, even nuns are dependent on a priest to deliver the Sacraments, it's a huge deal and they are not planning to change any time soon and it is totally unambiguous.

Making God explicitly female might not seem like a big deal since films like Dogma, another religious satire, did it in the 90s but to True Believes in the official doctrine, that is a form of blasphemy.

Good Omens is by definition a blasphemous work. How offensively blasphemous it is really depends on the devoutness of the viewer. And I find it interesting the extent to which there's something of a knee jerk, "Oh they won't do that!" in terms of further satirizing religion in the show about religious satire. As if Jesus hasn't been satirized in other mainstream movies before like the aforementioned Dogma or Life of Brian.

And here's the thing, my personal opinion is? Blasphemy is good! Blasphemy laws on the books mean it's ok to punish, hurt, or even kill a person for making fun of religion or just doing the religion wrong. Human progress has been frozen in place by blasphemy laws, sciences have progressed when blasphemy laws ease or often while deliberately concealing their efforts from authorities in places where blasphemy laws or laws that were otherwise based on the dominant religion exist.

If anything, I am actually a bit uncomfortable with the idea that Good Omens should hold back on lampooning a figure like Jesus Christ. If devout Christians will make laws that determine what other humans can do with their bodies based on their religion, then their religion should absolutely be open to outright mockery without punishment or ramification to anyone. Of course on an individual level I wouldn't wish to be offensive to someone sincerely religious but at the same time, I am also violently anti-censorship of any kind. And blasphemy and religious mockery are often right at the heart of censorship debates.

The world is a better place when we can openly mock religion.

I'm not going to caveat that as an opinion. Being able to openly and without fear discuss, criticize, and mock religion is an incredibly important part of any free society. The battles over this right have been vicious and bloody and are actively ongoing around the world. Just as an example, anti-blasphemy laws were on the books in Ireland until 2020, there was a huge campaign to have them removed because other countries were pointing to them as an example of why they should keep and exercise such laws.

My point is that I suppose this is something of hyperbole or alarmist or overly strident. I can understand people wanting to be decent about not openly mocking a figure of such importance to so many like Jesus. But quite honestly? I hope Good Omens does whatever it pleases with mocking Jesus. I hope they don't hold back. I hope people remember that being able to mock religion is really important, especially when representatives of that religion are actively trying to clamp down on the rights of others.

And honestly, if religious people are offended they should just not watch or they should develop a thicker skin if they expose themselves to such discourse. Religion and Christianity in particular is an active part of the public sphere. It is worthy of discussion. Public discourse often includes mockery, especially of the powerful and of powerful forces that steer the course of nations, like Christianity.

And I think it's important for Good Omens fans, who are a very progressive group, not to cherry pick and moralize over what satire or blasphemy is permitted. All satire should be permitted. All blasphemy should be permitted. The religious bigots don't care if you think God being a woman is ok but making fun of Jesus isn't. It's all the same, anything but glowing praise is criticism to some of these forces. Open discussion is far more important and yes, that includes mockery, and silly discussions in a silly show about an angel and a demon who avert the Apocalypse and fall in love.

#maggie rambles #good omens spoilers

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sleepyspoonie · 8 months

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the unwanted guest spoilers:

i have an incoherent theory i've developed after reading tug that i dont know whether it has much consequence but would make a lot of sense if im on the right track

so the big focus of tug is the permeability of the soul and how exposure to other souls causes an interplay and intermingling between the two that causes shared memories, habits, etc.

my thought is this: what if this is why people are always quoting hamlet and the bible and fucking 21st century memes and pop culture and shit?

hear me out hear me out.

the 200 dead children from the ninth haunt harrow because they were used for her creation (abigail points out that harrow is MEGA haunted during one of the dream bubble sequences. additionally when harrow relates the story of her conception to john, he straight up specifically describes it as a RESURRECTION in htn).

compare this to john, who resurrected the original 10,000 (i think. dont quote me on this specific number.), caused the great resurrection, using the earth itself as a battery to do so. he was in a perfect lyctorhood with the soul of the earth (and thus intermingled with HER based on that same idea of permeation) when he did it.

now, we'll get to john specifically, but imo, it makes total sense that the interplay of humans living and dying on earth for thousands upon thousands of years would permeate alecto's soul and vice versa. alecto even when she had total amnesia as nona knew what an alligator was and drew it during school. but also, if that wasn't enough, look at JOHN.

because what do we know about john? mr none house left grief likes spitting dumb millennial memes and went to catholic school and thinks he's hot shit for knowing shakespeare (he named his first corpse kids titania and ulysses for fucks sake), and therefore may well be like. patient zero of all the nonsense that comes out of peoples' mouths around here.

TLDR. what im thinking is that the resurrection through alecto and john's lyctorhood and the interplay between the souls of john and the earth has caused a link between john and/or the people of the 21st century and the people of the houses who are descended from the people of the resurrection.

if it's john, i also have this afterthought of a tangent built upon the above - i think it makes MUCH jucier the idea that john believes he can kill everyone/wipe everyone's memories clean and start over as many times as it takes when his own memories and habits and feelings might be intrinsically interwoven into the souls of the people he does this to ("empty's just another word for clean?" you're not going to empty or clean much when your soul is intermingled with everyone your necromancy has ever come in contact with and your memories and your rage and your grief are a gaping wound bleeding into every human you ever touch)

#the locked tomb #nona the ninth #the unwanted guest #john gaius #alecto the ninth #the unwanted guest spoilers

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a-case-of-attachment · 1 month

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Lucifer Morningstar / reader

Warnings: religious references, alcohol, stupid drunk decisions, hallucinations?, slight horror elements, questionable friends, no use of y/n, also don't sell your soul kids!

A/N: this is just a one shot, at least its supposed to be. I just liked the idea and it wouldn't leave me alone so here you go! Have my weird little story gremlin

It’s a relatively normal night when you sell your soul to the devil. Or at least it had started out that way. Admittedly it had been an accident and a drunken one at that. You hadn’t really expected anything to come from your friends stupid dare but it seemed the old and tatted book she had found in the back of a junk store had been the real deal and you were the one now paying the price for her curiosity. Quite literally it would seem.

On the last Friday of every month your normally quiet and relaxing apartment suddenly became the place to be, the small space crammed full of people and so noisy you could barely hear yourself think. Well, crammed might have been a slight exaggeration. There were six of you in total, somehow managing to fit on your small couch and armchair and not feeling like there wasn’t any room to move. Though there was only six of you they were loud though, their voices getting louder with every new bottle of wine that was opened and leaving you convinced this would be the one where Mrs Crouch from downstairs finally logged a noise complaint with the police like she was always threatening to do. You couldn’t really bring yourself to care too much about old Mrs Crouch from 3B though, four glasses in and having too much of a good time for it to be an issue.

It was somewhere after the XXXL pizza had been demolished and the fourth bottle of wine had been opened that a game of truth and dare had been suddenly suggested. It had been meet with a mix of groans and cheers, you very much not wanting to take part after the last time it had been suggested. You had gotten so drunk that you could hardly remember what had happened that night and as a result had spent most of the next day hugging the toilet and feeling sorry for yourself. You were just tipsy enough that it hadn’t taken much to convince you to play the childish game and soon enough the empty wine bottle had been set on the middle of the table and spinning towards its first victim.

It had all been standard stuff to start with, like run to the end of the hall and back naked, who did you actually make out with at your work’s Christmas party and down the pickle juice out of the jar. Childish and innocent enough that had all of you laughing and your neighbours shouting at you to “shut the hell up!” Well, it had been until it had gotten to your turn and then tings suddenly took a turn for the weird.

You weren’t religious, hadn’t been since your dad had run off either his secretary when you were a teenager. You had been though, and your mother still was, often calling up on a Sunday afternoon to complain that you had gone yet another week without going to church and that you were opening yourself up to the devil’s influence, starting with “those so called friends of yours. Mark my words their satanists, the lot of them and your letting them corrupt your soul. If you don’t repent soon, you’re going to end up in hell. Is that what you want, eternal damnation and suffering?” It reminded you of your childhood, listening to your local preacher damning all of humanity at bible study and the church run groups you had been forced to attend.

Your friends knew about you strict bible filled upbringing and it was often a point of their teasing so it shouldn’t have surprised you that when you picked dare they had managed to include it somehow though you would never have expected it to go the way it had. You had out right laughed when they had dared you to sell your soul to the devil, mockingly saying “oh please Mr Devil Sir, take my soul in exchange for another bottle of wine,” to a chorus of laughs from the rest of your friends and loud agreement as you clinked your mostly empty glasses together. It hadn’t stayed funny for long though, especially not when an old and tattered book had been pulled out from a long forgotten bag, the thing smelling musty and slightly like rotten eggs with an aura about it that had the hairs on the back of your neck standing up and goosebumps covering your arms.

No, you weren’t religious, but you did find the whole thing weird as the ritual was explained to you, your friends seeming uncomfortably eggar and already having some of the odder things the ritual called for. It seemed to much like it had been planned, no one questioning it as animal bones and weird herbs you had never heard of were pulled out of the same bag as the book like it was normal to carry them around. It left you feeling nervous, like you were breaking some sort of taboo that never should have been spoken about let alone acted upon. It hadn’t bothered anyone else as much as it had you, but you supposed that was the whole point of them giving it to you as a dare. It was just a bit of fun for them, a chance to make fun you because you used to go to church every Sunday and were still a little reluctant to take the lords name in vain.

You had said no to start with, instead opting for the forfeit because having to take a shot of the weird sludgy grey concoction you had all had a hand in making seemed better than messing around with the occult. The problem was that you had always been a bit naive, your upbringing leaving you isolated and lacking the knowledge that others your age had from just every day life. You had always felt like you were at a disadvantage and as a result you were eager to fit in, not wanting to seem like a prude or killjoy. The alcohol didn’t help, lowering your inhibitions and it hadn’t taken much teasing and cajoling from your friends to change your mind, snatching up the book and demanding to know what you needed to do whilst trying to keep your hands from shaking.

It had taken all of ten minutes to get everything set up, your poor wooden floor now supporting a pentagram with a weird array of symbols drawn in sharpie around it and every candle you owned now placed at every point of the pentagram. You had just a handful of seconds to worry about what your land lord would say if you couldn’t get the pen off the floor before your attention was drawn elsewhere, the clatter of someone rummaging through your kitchen cupboards to worrisome to ignore.

When everything was in place, and everyone sat around the drawn circle the nerves had come back tenfold. It must have been obvious how reluctant you were as the mix of herbs and various animal bones were thrown into one of your pasta bowls, along with a couple of odd looking things that you had no clue what they actually were. No one seemed to notice though, your friends laughing and joking as they passed around another bottle of wine. You had declined a glass when offered, suddenly feeling sick. Your mother’s words chose that moment to come back to you, her sharp angry insistence that your friends were damning you to Hell apparently now a fact. She was going to be so angry if she ever found out you messed around with this stuff, even as a joke.

Only one of your friends had seemed to notice your sudden queasy state, sitting down next to you on the floor and reassuring you that it was “all a bit of fun, yeah? It’s not like any of this stuff is actually real. Trust me, the only thing that’s going to happen is a whole bunch of nothing.” That had gone some way to easing your worry. Not that you believe in that sort of stuff because let’s be real, angels? Demons? A fiery pit of damnation or an eternal paradise of peace and happiness? It was all just made-up nonsense to scare people into doing the ‘right thing’ whatever that was and it was way more likely you were just a jumbled mess of atoms and electrons that returned to the either when all was said and done. Right?

Slight religious panic aside it took all of five minutes before you were butchering your way through several verses of Latin, your hands trembling slightly as you tried to keep your voice from doing the same. The pin came next, a simple pricking of your finger and a few drops of blood squeezed out, falling into the bowl that had been placed in the middle of the circle. You can’t help but be slightly fascinated by it, swearing you can hear each drop splashing as it hit the strange assortment of things already in there. A ridiculous notion but you would aware it to be true, each little drop followed by a gentle sizzle like it was hit red hot coals instead of bone and dried herbs.

Soon enough all that was left was for you to decide what it was you were going to ask for in exchange for your soul. It wasn’t real, you knew that, but you still hesitated, your pen hovering over the scrap bit of paper you were supposed to write it down on. Your friends had their own ideas, telling you to ask for a box or skittles or for the cutie from your local grocery store to ask you out on a date. They even suggested asking for money, enough that you would never have to worry about the cost of anything ever again. It was all frivolous things, nothing of any real value and even though it was just a game your couldn’t bring yourself to write down any of it, knowing a souls worth was more than a few material possessions. Instead, you had written something down that seemed impossible to you, something the devil would surely turn down if he was real. It was just as stupid and childish as the other’s suggestions but that hadn’t stopped you from writing down ‘to be happy’ before folding it up and setting the paper alight before anyone else could read it.

The burning paper had set whatever else was inside the bowl aflame, a dense white smoke curling up from the pot and smelling a lot like those new age shops that burnt incense like it was going out of fashion. The room fell silent, everyone watching the pot and seemingly holding their breath as they waited for something to happen. The flames of the candles flickered, like a gentle breeze had blown across the room and then…nothing. Nothing happened. Nothing changed and whatever weird spell that had fallen over the room broke, a couple of people bursting out into laughter about how serious everyone had been, already getting up and going after another bottle of wine whilst they teased one another. Not you though, you stay where you were, back straight and eyes wide as your heart thundered away in your chest.

Had it been nothing though? You could have sworn that as the candles had flickered you had felt a presence at your back, large and ominous as it pressed up against you. Like it intended to devour you whole. Something that had felt suspiciously like fingers had wrapped around your neck and wrists, long and burning hot like coals as their grip grew impossibly tight, your breath catching as your body stilled in fear. And then came the voice, carried on the strange breeze that had blown through your home and somehow sounding both light and musical yet somehow solemn as it had whispered “deal” into your ear, it’s hot breath causing shivers to run down your spine. It had only been a second, a fleeting moment but it left you shaken, the feeling like you had made a grave mistake washing over you. It wasn’t real, you knew it wasn’t. Heaven and Hell, angels and demons, they didn’t exist. It was just a mix of your upbringing and over active imagination playing tricks on you. It had all been in your head, no one else seemingly noticing anything. You were just being silly, that’s all it was.

It didn’t take long after your little make believe ritual for the others to leave, all of them suddenly tired or having plans in the morning. You didn’t really care, for once glad that they were leaving earlier than planned so you could get yourself to bed and forget this night had ever existed. No one offered to help tidy up, but they never did, almost always just leaving everything where it was. Maybe if you were lucky a glass or two would make it into the kitchen but you didn’t hold out much hope.

Once alone though that uneasy feeling started to creep up on you again and despite your best efforts you found yourself staring down at the pentagram like you expected a portal to open up and some demonic beast to pop up and drag you kicking and screaming down to Hell. The room seemed to get hotter, a weight settling around your neck and wrists, almost like you wearing a choker and bangles made of metal. The lights began to flicker, one after the other as the room filled with the crackle of electricity. Suddenly all the shadows seemed darker, more sinister, like they were crawling up the walls and spreading across the floor to get to you, their inky black tendrils looking far to much like claw tipped finger as they reach out for you. Your heart rate picked up, back pressed firmly against the door as your hand blindly searched for the handle. “Not real, not real, not real,” you chanted to yourself, eyes squeezing shut as your fingers brushed against the lock.

The loud slam of a door had your eyes flying open, a startled panic filled cry falling from your lips as you stumbled backwards, the door handle digging painfully into your back. Your fear filled mind struggled to keep up with what you were seeing or in this case the lack of what you could see. The room beyond looked just like normal, no creeping shadows or ominous presences to be found, the lights on and filling the space with a warm and inviting glow. Of course there was nothing there. It wasn’t real, none of it was. You just needed to sleep off the worst of the hangover you were most likely going to have and move on with your life. Chalk all this up to Catholic guilt and be done e with it.

Feeling embarrassed and stupid you pushed away from the door and started the arduous task of clearing away the mess that had been left strewn around your apartment, knowing that you wouldn’t have time to do it in the morning despite how badly you just wanted to forget it and collapse into bed. You avoided the satanic mess on your floor though, the heavy feeling around your neck and wrists getting worse the closer to it you got. That you wouldn’t leave till the next day when you would be better equipped mentally for trying to get the sharpie off the floor. If it would come off that is. If not, you would have no choice but to spend the last of your spare money on a rug to cover it up and hope your landlord didn’t want to look under it on your next inspection.

Feeling drained you finally started on your normal nightly routine. Though you checked the windows and doors were locked twice tonight, your paranoia getting the best of you. You would normally leave your bedroom door open as well but tonight you closed it, not wanting to see the shadows that lurked beyond. Slipping under the covers had felt like sweet relief, whatever fear and worry you had been carrying around all evening vanishing as you snuggled down into your pillows. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, the late hour and alcohol you had consumed finally taking its toll on you.

Somewhen in the early hours of the morning though the quiet and stillness of your home ended. The small bowl still in the middle of the pentagram began to smoke again, the candles that remained half melted at the points relighting all on their own. The red flames flickered and danced, casting long shadows that shifted and pulled together creating the silhouette of a man, with a cane and top hat. Silently the shadow moved through your apartment, your bedroom door silently opening with just a wave of its cane. You were so deeply asleep that you didn’t even stir as your bed dipped slightly under a new weight. You sighed softly as a clawed back hand gently brushed across your cheek, its sharp thumb nail dangerously close to your closed eye. The hand trailed down, nails not even pressing hard enough to leave behind so much as a red mark. They stilled at your neck, thumb brushing against the hollow of your neck. There came a glimmer of gold, a large decorative collar appearing around your neck, decorated with snakes and a large red apple at the front, a matching golden chain hanging from a loop at the front and leading straight into the shadows hand.

From within the shadow came the same disembodied voice from before, soft and slightly forlorn as it whispered “happiness huh? I hope that’s possible, for both our sakes.” Unaware of what lurked over you, you slept on peacefully, blissfully ignorant of the fact that you had been wrong and now, because of a stupid drunken game you were bound for all eternity to the Devil himself, no longer the one in possession of your soul.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #reader insert #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #hazbin lucifer x reader

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a-big-apple · 3 months

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Gideon, Harrow, and "Wedding Vows"

i frequently see the interpretation that this:

"The land that shall receive thee dying, in the same will I die: and there will I be buried. The Lord do so and so to me, and add more also, if aught but death part me and thee," said Gideon. (GtN 438)

plus this:

"If I forget you, let my right hand be forgotten," her mouth was saying. "Add more also, if aught but death part me and thee." And, unsteadily: "Griddle." (HtN 360)

plus this:

It didn't even matter when Kiriona said, "Sure, Cam. Marry a moron, then die. I get the urge." (NtN 372)

equals Gideon and Harrow are married! crying face emoji!

i'm not disparaging that interpretation, i think it's valid and has some basis in the text, and even if it wasn't/didn't, i think fans should have all the fun they want. but for me, it doesn't fully capture the complexity of what Gideon and Harrow are to each other, and i want to explore a slightly less straightforward reading.

Catholic weddings, vows, and Ruth under the cut ;)

Gideon and Ninth House traditions

let's start with Gideon quoting Ruth. i've seen folks repeating the idea that this is a wedding vow. it's more accurate to say that this is a verse often used as a wedding vow, in other denominations of Christianity, and secularly as well. but in a (traditional) Catholic wedding, the couple can't write or choose their own vows--the Celebration of Matrimony has specific text, with one or two variations, that is always used.

now, we haven't seen a Ninth House marriage ceremony. if we do see such a thing in AtN and discover that Ruth 1:17 is part of that tradition, i will cry a million happy queer tears about it. but i think it's somewhat likely that Gideon has never even seen a Ninth House wedding, given how small and trending elderly the population is, and that we know no couples in her lifetime have had kids other than the Reverend Parents.

what i'm getting at here is that this quotation from Ruth doesn't seem, to me, to represent something that's religiously or traditionally binding in Ninth House culture. it uses some similar language to Catholic marriage vows, "until death do us part" etc, but i don't think these are words that make them married in the eyes of the Ninth or the Houses at large, i think these are words Gideon has chosen as a specific expression of her devotion. and where does she get them from, if not some Ninth House ceremony or scripture?

well, this is a slightly longer stretch, but at the point in the story when Gideon says this, she's already dead. Harrow has begun to absorb her--and thanks to "The Unwanted Guest," we know that souls are porous, permeable, and rub off on each other when they're in contact. Gideon's soul is at this moment being integrated into Harrow's; Harrow has certainly read all kinds of books on the Ninth ranging from usual to totally heretical, some of them probably extremely old, and it's not unreasonable to think writings from before the Resurrection might have been copied and recopied into something Harrow could access. And speaking of soul permeability, Harrow's had Alecto's soul clinging onto hers for seven years, and Alecto's soul is in intimate contact with John's soul--there are so many ways for this bit of scripture to make its way into Gideon's non-corporeal mouth. the STI (Soulfully Transmitted Infection) of biblical knowledge.

Ruth in context

now let's talk a little about Ruth, the book of the Bible and also the character of the Bible, and Naomi, who she is swearing her devotion to. tl;dr, Naomi and her husband and two grown sons are Israelites who immigrate to Moab, a "pagan" nation, to escape famine. Naomi's two sons marry Moabite women; then the sons both die, as does Naomi's husband. Naomi, having lost everything, decides to return home where she'll be penniless and have a bad life but at least she'll be among her people; she tells her two daughters-in-law to go back to their families. One of them goes.

The other, Ruth, refuses, and swears beautiful devotion to Naomi, as we've heard Gideon quote: "She answered: Be not against me, to desire that I should leave thee and depart: for whithersoever thou shalt go, I will go: and where thou shalt dwell, I also will dwell. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. The land that shall receive thee dying, in the same will I die: and there will I be buried. The Lord do so and so to me, and add more also, if aught but death part me and thee."

in a biblical context, this has nothing to do with a wedding vow. Ruth is promising to leave the comfort of her own people, religion, and homeland to stay with her mother-in-law Naomi, even though the connection they had (Naomi's son, Ruth's husband) is gone, and all they have to look forward to is a terrible life of grief and bitterness. this is frequently interpreted as a parallel to Jesus, who (in the religious perspective) made the sacrifice of leaving his place with God and becoming human out of devotion to humanity, in order to live and suffer and redeem us. woof, this is giving me flashbacks to CCD.

of course, many Christians resist interpreting what passes between Ruth and Naomi as resembling a wedding vow for homophobic reasons too--making it about Jesus is a way to make it less queer--but i think the point still stands that this is a more complicated, and less marriage-related, expression of love than it seems taken on its own.

Harrow's lamentation

when Harrow later echoes it back, she conflates it with a different biblical quotation: "On the willows in the midst thereof we hung up our instruments. For there they that led us into captivity required of us the words of songs. And they that carried us away, said: Sing ye to us a hymn of the songs of Sion. How shall we sing the song of the Lord in a strange land? If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand be forgotten. Let my tongue cleave to my jaws, if I do not remember thee: If I make not Jerusalem the beginning of my joy."

it's a lament, an expression of mourning, a longing for home from someone who has been forcibly removed from it. when combined with the Ruth quotation, in which Ruth is giving up her home in her devotion, this really reads to me as both Harrow's grief, immediate and overpowering, and a realization that Gideon is her home, and failing to acknowledge that is as disabling as the loss of a hand or of the power of speech. Gideon is the beginning of her joy, and Harrow is, in this moment, putting Gideon above the Ninth House in her devotion. above Alecto. above everything.

and again, i'm not saying all of that can't be about marriage, but it's about a relationship much more complicated than marriage can encompass in the context House cultural norms.

Kiriona Gaia, saddest girl

this brings me to Kiriona, and "marry a moron, then die." consider the context of this, and the tone. Kiriona's deeply, deeply hurt. the saddest girl in the universe. she died for Harrow, avowed her devotion to Harrow, and then (from her perspective) was rejected; buried; excised from Harrow's brain and then from her body. Kiriona, as she did when she was Gideon, covers her emotions with humor and sarcasm. i suspect she's even less able to handle being vulnerable as Kiriona than she ever was before. she's making light of Canaan House and what happened there, and it's only in sarcastically downplaying what she's been through that she recounts her relationship to Harrow as a marriage--something she has almost no positive examples of, something that is in her experience frequently political and joyless. also notably, she frames it as a marriage that occurred before she died.

Their actual vow

what Gideon (and Kiriona) really wants--she tells us over and over again--is to be a true cavalier.

and what does Gideon's ghost repeat right before she devastates us with Ruth 1:17?

"One flesh, one end," said Gideon, and it was a murmur now, on the very edge of hearing. Harrow said, "Don't leave me." (GtN 438)

it's taken me a dozen paragraphs just to propose that this is their vow. "One flesh, one end" are the actual words that need to be spoken, in Gideon and Harrow's cultural context, to bring them into an official union with each other; a union that is arguably more fundamental in the Houses, and certainly more complicated, than a marriage. a union Gideon specifically wants, and has seen in action.

in the pool, they vow to each other as cavalier and necromancer. in the moments before Gideon's death, she forgives Harrow again, and exposes her heart: "'You know I only care about you,' she said in a brokenhearted rush" (GtN 430). then she repeats their oath again, acknowledges the pain she's about to cause for Harrow, and rededicates herself to the Ninth--a place she never really belonged, Harrow's home and people more than her own, as Ruth dedicated herself to Naomi's home and people. Gideon "married" her moron in the pool, and now she dies to fulfill that vow.

and as we saw above, after Gideon's death, she reminds Harrow again of their union--of its importance, of how she's fulfilling what she has interpreted to be her whole purpose as a cavalier--and it's in response to Harrow's "don't leave me" that Gideon offers a final reassurance of her devotion. in her mind, this sacrifice is its ultimate expression, the most inextricable and undeniable union two people can achieve.

Gideon believes she'll be part of Harrow forever.

#the locked tomb #the locked tomb meta #i stayed up way too late last night writing this

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roosterbruiser · 11 months

Text

𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐌��𝐄𝐑 — 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

—𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐓. 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐔𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐒. 𝐌𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐑. —𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝟒.𝟕𝐊 —𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃 —𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐑��𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐀𝐊𝐒, 𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘 𝟐𝟎𝐓𝐇, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟕

“I’ve been thinking about something,” Fanboy starts, picking at his hotdog.

Payback pretends to be exasperated, rolling his eyes. But Fanboy knows he has his undivided attention.

“Thinking about Mable being a martyr?” Payback whispers, raising a brow at Mable as she furiously destroys her lunch with her plastic fork and knife. “‘Cause me too.”

They’re sitting at their usual lunch table, all the children chattering and stuffing handfuls of salty chips in their mouths. Dotted all along the lunch room, the rest of the counselors are quietly chatting or tying shoes or opening juice boxes. A peculiar sense of alarm has settled over everyone--which is largely due to the fact that Mable Brandt won’t touch her food, keeps clutching pages of her destroyed bible, and keeps removing her bandage to stare at the cut on her arm.

“Nah,” Fanboy says softly, glancing at Mable. Her hotdog is in little chunks before her and she’s just staring down at her plate now. “Maybe someone else oughta learn how to use the shotgun.”

Payback makes a face--screwing his face up in discontent.

“Why? Seresin’s our best shot.”

Fanboy isn’t sure how to articulate it to Payback. If he had no filter, if he was totally honest, he’d just say that he was scared. Scared that someone came to camp last night and attacked Mable, scared that Mable maybe did it to herself. He’s scared, most of all, that it was someone in this lunch room. Whether it was a camper or a counselor or Paul or--fuck, he doesn’t know. And he’s scared because he doesn’t know.

Payback’s chewing slows as he watches his best friend stare down at the wooden table before him. He can see it clear as day: Fanboy’s worried. Scared, even.

“Yeah, that actually probably would be better, wouldn’t it?” Payback says softly. “You know, in case Seresin loses his marbles.”

“Or gets hacked.”

Fanboy and Payback chuckle.

“He will,” Mable pipes up softly.

Payback whirls around to face her. She won’t look up from her plate.

“Didn’t quite catch that, kiddo,” Payback says slowly. “What’d you say?”

“Mister Jake. He’s going to get hacked.”

Luckily, she isn’t speaking loud enough to get the attention of any of the other campers. But she is all Fanboy and Payback can see right now.

“What do you mean?” Fanboy asks softly. If he wore a cross necklace, he’d sure be clutching it right now. “Like, hacked?”

“He’s going to be cut up with an ax,” Mable says softly. “That’s what they said to me.”

A stone sinks in Fanboy’s belly. He swallows hard, glances at Payback--who is staring down at Mable perplexed.

“Who?”

Mable just glances down at her bandages. Blood is beginning to seep through them.She presses the pad of her thumb down over the blood, ignores the burn, and focuses on the warmth that grows there.

“I got in its way,” Mable explains. She’s been thinking about this all night. She’s a smart girl--beyond her years, so mature for her age. She’s smart enough to look back on what happened and deduce a few points. “It was looking for Mister Jake.”

“How do you know that?” Fanboy asks, leaning in closer.

Payback sighs quietly.

“Don’t egg her on, man,” he insists.

Fanboy silences him with an open palm.

“It was going to his cabin. Only, I got in its way.”

“Well, it wouldn’t have found him there, anyway,” Payback says, crossing his arms.

He just isn’t sure how well he believes this tale. And he’s annoyed that Fanboy is so interested in it, leaning forward with a glassy look in his eyes like what Mable says is gospel.

This is how people get indoctrinated in cults, Payback thinks.

“I know,” Mable whispers. “He was with Nurse Nightingale.”

Fanboy looks at Payback, reeling.

Payback isn’t amused.

“Well, whoever it was--they didn’t hack you up. So, what makes you think they wanted to do that to Mister Jake?”

The tips of Fanboy’s fingers are numb with fear. Even basked in the warm sunshine, even among all these campers and counselors, even with his favorite lunch before him--he’s scared. He almost doesn't want to know her answer.

“It--it…well, I just know, okay? Don’t you believe me?”

Finally, Mable looks up. And it’s when Payback sees that fat tears have settled in her eyes. She grips the wooden table and shakes her head softly at Payback.

“I know what the Devil looks like. I saw it last night. It wanted my blood!”

Other campers have turned towards Mable now. Her cheeks are red and her eyes are wet and she’s beginning to shiver in her spot, not breaking her gaze away from Payback. And as if in a trance, Payback can’t break his gaze from her.

“It wanted my blood!” She cries again, louder now. So loud that she’s gotten the attention of the other tables around her. “It stunk of sulfur and it hated me for loving God! It tore my Bible and tried to shake my faith, but it cannot!” Mable stands now, pointing a finger at Payback with her eyes wide. “It wanted my blood and it wants more! It will feast on everyone here! We will bathe in our own blood and be torn limb by limb as the depths of Hell calls for us! There is no way out! There is no way out!”

Frozen in terror, you watch from your spot beside Bradley. Not even the heat of his body can bring you back into your body as you watch Mable come undone, spit flinging from her chapped lips as she screams at Payback.

Everyone is silent besides her, campers reaching for each other’s hands beneath the table, counselors lips parted in shock.

“Mable, that’s enough,” Payback insists. “Sit down and finish your hotdog.”

With that, Mable grabs her tin plate and chucks it across the room. It clatters against the wooden wall and sends the hotdog straight to the floor in a puddle of ketchup.

“Mable,” Fanboy says, voice quivering. “Calm down, kid.”

“There will be no calm when the Devil comes for us all! He is among us! He’s here! He’s in this room! I can feel his spirit, I can smell his stench!”

That’s when Coyote and Hangman step in.

Each of them takes one of her arms, pulling her away from the table.

“Calm down, honey,” Hangman soothes, brow furrowed. “Let’s get some air.”

Mable, who’s letting her heels scrape against the floor as the entire canteen population watches her get dragged out, looks up at him with a most sorrowful gaze.

“You’re not going to make it to the end of summer, Mister Jake. Is your soul saved?”

Coyote scoffs loudly, slamming the doors open.

“I’ve had about enough of that doom and gloom talk,” Coyote says seriously. “Cut it out now.”

“Accept Christ in your heart and I can baptize you, Mister Jake,” Mable continues, wriggling out of Coyote’s grip, squinting up at the sun, and cupping Hangman’s cheek before he can stop her. “Your soul is not doomed yet.”

“Mable Brandt,” Coyote chastizes. “You just--you know what? You’re gonna sit in the cabin for the rest of the day. Think real hard about this Bible-thumping thing you’re so keen on. Christ, kid.”

Hangman removes her sticky hand from his cheek. And then they start across the courtyard to her cabin, not responding when Mable begins begging for release from this evil place.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t exactly describe anywhere in Maine as evil,” Hangman huffs to Coyote. “Ain’t that reserved for the West?”

Once they’ve settled Mable in her cabin and stepped back out into the heat, the severity of her words sink into Hangman. He’s a logical man from a God-fearing family. He knows that the Devil must be real in some capacity--how else would anyone explain Charles Manson or Ted Bundy? But the thought of the Devil being here, at Camp Arcadia, and wanting him? That can’t be real--surely not.

“She’s full of it, man,” Coyote says softly, clapping a hand on Jake’s sweaty shoulder. “Don’t worry about her. I’m pretty sure she cut herself.”

Jake shrugs.

“No skin off my back. Literally.”

Fanboy and Payback are waiting for them when they return to the canteen. Both of them, even Payback, are standing with their jaws clenched and their lashes fluttering.

“You need to teach someone else how to shoot,” Fanboy says seriously, squinting up at Jake. “Just in case.”

Hangman starts to scoff, but then Payback makes a sound of agreement.

“Oh, God--not you two too? Mable’s sitting in first class on the crazy train,” Coyote says.

He waits for some sort of reaction--the men to admit that they’re being paranoid, the men to laugh it off. But Payback and Fanboy just stare at them.

“Someone else needs to be a good shot,” Payback says.

“Someone at least needs to know how to shoot it.”

The small smile that is gracing Hangman’s face is slowly beginning to fade.

He can see it--the fear. And it makes his belly turn sour.

“Okay,” Hangman simply agrees. “Who?”

It’s the second time this week you’ve pulled the short stick.

“Alright, Butch Cassidy,” you mutter to him with the short spaghetti noodle in your grasp. “I’ll be your Sundance Kid.”

Jake stifles a chuckle and shakes his head seriously.

“Take this seriously!” Jake demands. “We could be attacked at any time!”

“By the Devil!” Phoenix says, clutching her chest in mock-terror.

“Or worse…” Bob starts softly, shaking his head.

“Ronald Reagan?” You ask, perching a brow.

You chew on the short noodle as everyone laughs.

And then a strange quietness settles over all the counselors. All the kiddos have been dismissed to the courtyard to play so the lot of you could draw sticks. And all huddled up here, after Mable’s explosion, there seems to be so much to talk about that no one knows where to begin.

“I-I know this is gonna sound shitty,” Bob starts finally, his tongue thick with nerves. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and glances at everyone carefully. “But where was everyone last night? Not accusing…I’m just…covering all our bases.”

“Mable did it to herself,” Coyote insists. “She had to have! None of the knives were missing, we haven’t had any incidents before that. What, she get cut with an ax?”

“Nope, that was Bradshaw,” you pipe up, bumping Bradley.

Rooster nods, holding out his bandaged hand.

“Okay, well, if Mable did it to herself--how? With what weapon?” Fanboy asks, voice hushed but urgent.

“A loose nail? Her teeth?” Payback suggests.

“Cut was too precise for that,” you sigh, pushing your hair out of your face. “It was something sharp.”

Phoenix hums to herself for a moment, fanning her warm face.

“What about a seashell?”

You glance at her--she’s already looking at you.

“Like, a broken up seashell?” You ask. Huh. You hadn’t considered that. But there are shells that dot the shore of the lake--you’re sure Mable could figure out how to break one. “I mean--yeah, that’s a possibility. Maybe a stone, too.”

“Now we’re cooking with oil,” Bradley sighs, wiping his brow. “Okay, but why?”

Before anyone can hypothesize, Bob pipes up again.

“And why the fixation with Jake?”

Jake’s throat goes dry. He doesn’t let it show on his tanned face; his mustache is still bushy, his hip is still jutted, his shorts are still short.

“Who could resist, man?” Coyote answers for him, nudging Jake. “Half the camp is probably crushing on him!”

“There’s a difference between a crush and whatever the fuck we just saw,” Phoenix says, frowning. “That wasn’t normal.”

Payback shrugs.

“In all fairness, Mable isn’t normal.”

No one disagrees.

With everyone standing here with their ringer shirts and short-shorts and sweaty faces and squinted eyes and slight smiles, it’s peculiar that anything bad could ever happen here. It’s peculiar, most of all, that you’re even having to discuss the Devil.

“Well, either way, we all know where Mister Jake was last night. With his Number One Camp Crush.”

Your heart sinks into your belly when Fanboy nudges you playfully.

Oh, fuck.

Now is about the time you wish the world would open up and swallow you whole.

Bradley’s brows are furrowed.

Jake, biting a cocky grin, rolls his eyes.

“Oh, buzz off,” he insists, crossing his arms over his chest. “Mind your potatoes!”

“Oh, so that’s where you were last night?” Coyote asks with a grin, nudging Jake. “My man!”

“She had a nightmare,” Jake insists, truly trying to save face.

You groan, shaking your head.

“Alright, I’m gonna head out before we get too regressive here,” you sigh, hands on your hips. “Gimme a ring when you wanna step back into the twentieth century, alright?”

Spinning on your heel, you start to walk back to the Nurse’s Cabin before anyone can see how flustered you are. And you certainly don’t want Bradley to see that--nor do you want to see his face when he figures out.

“You’re all idiots,” Phoenix sighs. “Bob, let’s skitty.”

But, true to Bradshaw fashion, you’re only in the confines of the cabin for less than a minute before Bradley is standing in the doorway.

Jake decides to watch from the courtyard, resisting the urge to rub it in Bradshaw’s face. He knows you can fight your own battles.

“Really?” He asks softly.

There’s a fire lit in his belly now. And, God--it isn’t even that you were messing around with someone. It’s that it’s Jake. Jake fucking Seresin. That fucking goofball?

“What?” You ask, making yourself busy with organizing the countertop.

“Him?”

You’re hot all over.

“I’m not in the mood for this right now,” you tell Bradley, shaking your head and chewing on your lower lip. “Not after the night I’ve had.”

Bradley is watching you with a hardened gaze.

“Yeah, I’m sure you did have a night, huh?”

That stops you dead in your tracks. Gripping the counter, you turn on your heel and stare at him. He’s staring right back at you, looking tall and broad and fucking pissed.

“Did we get married last summer and I magically forgot about it? ‘Cause last time I checked, you and I aren’t an item. I check single on all my paperwork.”

Wounded, Bradley steps into the cabin and shakes his head at you.

“Don’t dumb it down to that.”

The tired in your bones is beginning to vibrate. You hold your face for a moment, wipe the sweat from your skin, and shake your head at him.

“You flirt with me for three months out of the year. Then we go our separate ways. That’s kinda what we do.”

His heart is hammering.

“Oh, come on. You can’t tell me we aren’t a little bit more than that!”

“Are we?” You challenge, shrugging.

His lip twitches.

“Yeah, we are.”

Throwing your hands up in the air, an exasperated laugh tumbles from your lips.

“News to me, buddy!”

A lull falls over the two of you. Distantly, other counselors are starting to gather the axes and talk about breaking into shifts. Kids are playing. Birds are singing. The lake is rippling. The radio in the corner is playing Tainted Love by Soft Cell.

“News to you, huh?” He asks, his voice lower and softer now. Just barely, you nod. Your thighs are beginning to quiver. “It’s not news to me.”

And, really, what he means is that he’s crazy about you. He may only see you for three months of the year, but he thinks about you for twelve months of the year. He can smell jasmine year-round when he thinks of burying his nose in your hair. You’re like a private garden, one that sits between his skull and the soft and pink parts of his brain. You’re with him. It’s as simple as that. You’re with him.

“We didn’t have sex,” you say, face burning. You’re not even sure why you’re saying it other than it just feels like the right thing to say. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

But isn’t it?

“You’re together now?” He asks.

You shake your head quickly.

“No.”

He nods. It’s quiet again.

“Good,” he sighs. “Summer ain’t over yet.”

♀

All you can smell right now is the lake. The musty scent of moss and the distant stench of fish coat your nostrils so thickly that you want to step away from the water, backtrack up the rocks and find your place further inland beside Phoenix and Bob--who are manning a game of Freeze Tag.

Further up the courtyard, the campers who aren’t running around are all lazing around. The other counselors are still taking shifts chopping the tree so there’s been plenty of camp-wide games today. No campers have particularly wanted to do a whole lot today--not with Mable telling everyone that the Devil came to Camp Arcadia last night and cut her good.

“It wanted my blood,” she’s been telling everyone, pointing to her bandages.

No one is quite sure what to believe.

Right now, though--you don’t want to think about it. You just want to think about standing here on the shore of the lake, where you’re unable to move.

You can’t because Jake is standing just behind you, his body molded to yours. With his chin atop your head and his arms wrapped around your own, you’re solid as concrete right here with the waves racing up the rocks to lap at the rubber toes of your jellies.

“And then you just cock it, alright?”

He cocks it himself, using your curled fingers as mere vessels. It’s hard and heavy in your hands, even if Jake’s holding most of the weight. Metal settles beneath your tongue.

Huffing, you shake your head. The sun beating down on you is like three thousand heat lamps. It’s making you feel muggy, your head thick with cotton and your mouth chalky from not having eaten anything since that muffin this morning. And to make matters worse, Jake won’t take the gun out of your hands so you can tie your hair up.

“I really wish you’d stop using that word.”

Jake grins--beams, really. He knows you’re grumpy this morning. After the interruption, you both knew you wouldn’t be able to swing sleeping in the same cabin. No one slept very well at all--who could when one of the campers was sliced and diced? And even without all of that commotion, he knows that you had it worse because of the nightmare. He thought about you being alone in your cabin all night long, blinking up at the water stained ceiling in his own cabin.

And despite your less-than-stellar mood, he’s fallen comfortably back into his role of elementary-aged boy with a crush on y-o-u.

“Fine--jerk it.”

Teeth sinking into your lower lip, an aggravated sigh floods your lips. It settles comfortably in the muggy air staining your skin and rings through Jake's ears sweetly, like the song of the cicadas. When he’s sure no one is looking, he presses a lewd and hasty kiss to the crown of your head, which makes the sun feel blistering.

You’re fairly certain you’re about to be reduced to a sugary, sweat-spiked puddle not unlike those left behind by Rooster’s chicks when they have Popsicle Hour.

“I don’t even wanna do this,” you insist, irritation chewing your tone. “I don’t even think I believe in guns.”

Jake scoffs.

“Everyone believes in guns.”

Any attempt to keep the peace with Jake is squashed beneath the thick heel of your scoff.

“Why, Toto! I don’t think we’re in Texas anymore!”

You click your heels three times--Jake pinches your hip, but finds himself pleased and adoring as ever. Sure, you’re acting like this now. But you’re letting him hold you--Hell, you’re holding a gun to mostly appease him. Or, that’s what he chooses to believe.

And you certainly weren’t acting like this last night. That knowledge seems to be keeping Jake afloat while battling your never-ending exasperation and general distaste for companionship today.

“Keep your heels planted,” he instructs, a bead of sweat dripping down his face and into your hair. You don’t seem to notice, thank God. When you begin to grumble, Jake squeezes the curve of your waist. “You ever have to shoot someone, you’re gonna be glad you had your old pal Jake to show you how to not get knocked onto your ass from the recoil.”

“Do you even know how brawny I am, birdbrain? I can hoist up anyone and their mama off a gurney!” You argue.

Nonetheless, you plant your heels into the ground and straighten your spine.

Jake knows it’s fruitless to argue with you. The only way you’ll let up is if he lets you pull the trigger for yourself--although the thought of you soaring through the air and landing flat on your back makes Jake stiffen with discomfort.

“Baby, darlin’, sweetheart, honey…” Jake starts, sighing. His breath fans across your sticky cheek and you swallow thickly, blinking rapidly when a bead of sweat lands on your lashes. “Chill, huh? Let’s walk through it again.”

So you do walk through it again. Jake strokes the parts of your body that require changing: knees slightly bent, feet planted firmly shoulder-width apart, left jelly-clad foot a bit ahead of the other, chest pushed in every-so-slightly to mirror that foot.

“I feel like an idiot,” you grumble, wrinkling your nose.

“Baby, you’ve never looked better.”

“Guns really get your engine revving?”

Jake laughs.

“Alright, space cadet. Go ahead and flick that safety off.”

“Oh, get lost,” you mutter to him.

You switch the safety off anyway.

Slowly, Jake releases your body so you’re standing on your lonesome with the gun. It’s much heavier without him taking the brunt of the weight--so heavy that you’d have stumbled if you weren’t annoyingly balanced in this stance.

Jake watches you from a safe distance, his shorts digging into the meat of his thighs as he stands with them flexed. You look good holding a shotgun--the wood smooth in your dexterous hands, the metal dark gleaming in the sunlight, your lip bitten and your eyes lasered in on the target across the lake.

You can do this--he knows it and so do you.

“Okay,” Jake says, eyebrows furrowed as the heat of summer pours over your two forms. “You got it, baby. Just breathe in, find that trigger, and exhale when you squeeze. It’s real easy. Promise.”

“Promise,” you mock. Jake doesn’t so much as flinch. “And what’re you gonna do for me when I get a bullseye, huh?”

He opens his mouth to say something less-than camp appropriate despite your mood. He figures he can get away with it, too, since you’re a bit preoccupied with the shotgun. Jake doesn’t see Bradley approaching, ringing his hands together as his blisters settle into the soft flesh there. But Bradley’s seen most of what’s happened between the two of you--which is why he’s honing in on interrupting.

“Well, I could--!”

“--I’m sure he can think of something,” Bradley interrupts, hands on his hips as he falls in place beside Jake. Both of the men stiffen--Bradley smells like oak and moss, having taken a double of tree-cutting time just to get away from all the hullabaloo at camp. “Like, say--an extra muffin. Or filling in for me at the tree so we can get some alone time.”

When you hear his voice, your spine prickles. Your body is aflame and all you can do is chew your lip and stare straight ahead. You suppose, in some strange and cosmic way, you’re always prepared for Bradley to show up and make your heart race.

“You know she has a gun, cassanova,” Jake says with a sneer. “We really shouldn’t be pissing her off.”

Rooster scoffs.

“I couldn’t piss Gale off if I tried,” Rooster insists rather smugly, wiping his blistered hands on his bare thighs before snatching your canteen off the dirt floor and taking a long swig. “Ain’t that right, honey?”

“The good thing about shotguns is that they have two bullets,” you say.

Atta girl, Jake thinks. He doesn’t mind that you’re threatening to shoot him, too.

“She was just about to shoot,” Jake says to Bradley, jerking his chin to the spot beside him. “Step back or else.”

“Oh, real freaky-deaky, man,” Rooster taunts, rolling his eyes and wiping his wet lips with the back of his sweaty hand. “I think I know how to--!”

He’s rudely interrupted by the blast. It’s the loudest thing anyone has ever heard at Camp Arcadia--it reverberates off the rippling lakewater, sears through the muggy air, slices a few mosquitos on its way, then embeds itself in the spray-painted hay.

Jake can’t believe it. He can tell from here beside you, cupping his gaze and staring across the lake.

Bullseye.

There’s certainly going to be a bruise on your shoulder now--but you didn’t fall flat on your ass like you thought you would. You’re counting it as a win, not even bothering to see where your bullet punctured as you slowly take your finger off the trigger and engage safety again.

“Holy shit!” Jake exclaims. And before you really know what’s happening, he’s pushing the gun out of your hands and putting it in Rooster’s hands as he scowls at the ringing in his ears, wrapping you up in his arms with a joyous grin. “Bullseye, bullseye, bullseye!”

“What--really?” You ask, scrambling to hold onto him as he spins you in a circle.

His scent permeates you--drowns you. All that familiar sweat, soap, dirt. It makes you think about last night when his face was in your throat and his hand was between your legs. God--it makes you want him. And you still have gunpowder on your hands.

“You’re acting surprised,” Bradley points out, still grimacing as his ears vibrate. “Like you didn’t know she’d get one.”

“Get lost, Bradshaw! Don’t shit on my picnic!”

But then you catch Rooster’s gaze as it settles on you in Jake’s arms. His eyes are half-shut beneath the sun, swimming with a strange sort of grief. So, you wriggle out of Jake’s grip, firmly plant your feet on the shore, then salute both of them.

You’re thinking about it now, Bradley’s words earlier.

It’s not news to me.

And who are you to torture him?

“See you at dinner,” you tell them both cordially. You’re fairly certain they’ll be able to hear your heart beating out of your throat. “Don’t kill each other, huh?”

Bradley and Jake glance at each other. Jake thinks about last night--so does Bradley. Jake’s version of events are more detailed than Bradley will ever know and that fills him with a certain pride.

“No promises,” Bradley murmurs.

♀

It’s a peculiar feeling. Not unfamiliar, but not something you’ll ever get used to. Every single bit of your body, every little nerve and hair and scar and mole and freckle can feel it.

You’re being watched.

Except it isn’t the middle of the night and you aren’t alone in your cabin. You’re standing in the Nurse’s Cabin, folding up some linens, singing along to Danger Zone by Kenny Loggins.

The feeling floods you like a blush. One moment, you’re just listening to the distant sound of axes and kiddos hollering, and the next you’re paralyzed with fear and every hair on your body is stick straight and standing tall.

It’s silly, you tell yourself when your heart starts to pound. It’s silly. It’s silly.

Surely, really, actually it isn’t really here watching you. It’s a creature from a nightmare. It’s a figment of your imagination. It’s the middle of the day. Anyone else would be able to see it.

With every fiber in your being, though, you know that it’s standing at the door watching you.

There will be no calm when the Devil comes for us all! He is among us! He’s here! He’s in this room! I can feel his spirit, I can smell his stench!

A fat raindrop of fear races down the column of your spine as you stare straight ahead at the wall before you. When the stench of sulfur tickles your upper lip, you’re almost certain you’re imagining it. And when you feel it take a step into the cabin, that minuscule vibration and tiny crying of the wood, you’re almost certain you’re not imagining it.

If you could speak, you’d pray.

Another step.

You’re too afraid to turn around.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: MABLE TERRIFIES ME.....

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

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bloodypeachblog · 10 months

Note

You got any daddy Sammy Headcanons?

You fucking bet I do!

Sammy Lawrence headcanons

(This is with F!Reader, btw)

~~~♡♡♡~~~

• Sometimes his personality when he was human can show when something doesn't go right or his way or he's just annoyed. He can be a real asshole when he's like that. But if he upsets you, he would apologize later.

• the instance you responded to his 'can I get an amen?' tape with an 'amen', he fell for you almost instantly. He knew that his savior has blessed him with you, you had to be his bride. He waits til you fall asleep and he carries you to his room. You're his now.

• the songs he writes for you? Oh so lovely and romantic. He even plays them on his banjo and sings them for you.

• when he likes you, he can get a bit flustered and tongue-tied at times. When you've been together for a long time, he gets a bit better with that, but his inky heart still flutters when he sees you and hears your voice.

• if you can't sleep, he would sing you a lullaby or tell you a story from his bible (he wrote one where it's basically the christian bible, but Bendy is Jesus) until you fall asleep.

• he lets you join him on his searches for sacrifices and sometimes lets you choose their fates. They'll still die, but you get to choose how they die.

• Total. Drama. Queen. But not in a way that'd make you hate him, more in the way where you can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

• guy's mind is stuck in the 1920-1930's, so if you show him something like, an iPhone, or you dress in modern clothing, his brain would probably implode.

• he LOVES listening to you read passages from his bible during sermons. He just marvels your words and pays very close attention. You could see a big smile though his mask.

• the same goes vice versa, he speaks with such energy and dedication and he smiles to himself when he sees you're just so enthralled by his preaching.

• basically when he speaks about you, he's exactly how Gomez Addams talks about Morticia. He ADORES you.

• "I would die for her. I would kill for her. Either way, what bliss." "To think, Lord Bendy has blessed me with such a beautiful angel such as yourself." "To live without you, only that would be death." "I cannot see, I am blinded by such beauty."

• pet names: Darling, Love, Angel, my little lamb, my sweet, Dear, Dearest.

♡NSFW♡

• master of seduction. Just, pure incubus skills. His soft voice makes you melt, and he knows it.

• oh he is all for foreplay. He wants his little pet to be ready for him.

• his cock is about 6 inches and pretty thick, but that's thanks to the blessings of the ink.

• *psst!* if he wanted, he could grow two of them to double-penetrate you, but he'll immediately pass out once he cums because it takes twice the energy, so he doesn't do it often.

• he wouldn't exactly whisper dirty words, but the way he phrases things...

• "don't be afraid, it's what our Lord wishes. We wouldn't want to disappoint him, now would we?" "You're so wet for me, how sweet.." "I'm so blessed that you're mine.." "You're doing so well, love..." "Just relax and let us share this bliss that our Lord has blessed us with." "Perhaps Lord Bendy will bless us with little sheep of our own tonight.."

• kinks? Well...he does like tying you up nice and tight. Can't let the little lamb run off, can he? No, he cannot. He has a praise kink, where he just loves to praise you for being such a good little wife.

• he LOVES to tease you and make you beg for him. The grin and deep chuckle he lets out from hearing your begs will make you melt.

• he'll make sure you cum a few times before he does. You'll be putty in his hands when he's done with you.

• yes, he cuddles you during the afterglow. He also whispers loving words into your ear, making sure you feel loved and cherished, because you are.

#batim sammy lawrence #batim #batim smut #batim sammy headcanons #sammy lawrence headcanons #sammy lawrence x reader #sammy lawrence #whoo mama #hallelujah #praise be unto him #all praise our lord and savior bendy

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uptoolateart · 1 year

Text

'Perfect' White

We can't have failed to notice that in S5 Gabriel has gone all white...like Cat Blanc. So my wheels got spinning and here I am, exploring the symbolism of this 'colour'.

Many viewers will link white to ideas of innocence, cleanliness or peace. Maybe even holiness - think angels. We've even seen Adrien wearing angel wings, in 'Simpleman'.

I once read an excellent analysis, I forget by whom, suggesting that Adrien is often in white to show that he's a blank slate, waiting to be written on. We even get the word 'blank' from the Latin root of the French 'blanc', meaning white. Taking this further, we could see it as Adrien not yet being certain of his own identity.

White is also linked with virginity - think of the Western European wedding dress colour. Applying this symbolically, Adrien begins the story inexperienced and naive, kept ignorant of the ways of the world. He also takes things at face value. But this is definitely changing.

I see irony, as well, because the angelic public image of Adrien hides his 'darker' thoughts and impulses. White is often linked to simplicity, and Adrien is perhaps most fascinating for being so much more complicated than anyone in his life believes.

We could also see virginity as not being 'used' yet, and this is ironic too because Adrien is used left and right, by both his father and by Ladybug.

And of course white is honesty. Nothing has been hidden. Adrien is typically the most honest one on the show and the most open with his feelings. An interesting fact I didn't know before some quick research today is that in ancient Rome, public officials wore white, and their robes were called 'candidus', which gives us the word 'candidate' but also 'candid' meaning honest and frank (because politicians never lie...???). We'll come back to this later.

White also indicates being innocent of sins or crimes. It tells us Adrien is a victim.

So why is Gabriel all in white?

Let's start with the obvious. Scientifically, white is both the source and absence of all colour.

On the one hand, we could see Gabriel in white as him trying to swallow up everything else - think of how colourful the kwamis are, and the way Gabriel tries to consume his son.

Or we could see it as his coldness. Think of the Hans Christian Andersen's Snow Queen, adapted as Elsa in 'Frozen' - or 'The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe'. White is ice. We also saw this with Cat Blanc - we all talk about his 'ice-blue eyes' in fan fics.

But Gabriel's white could also be the antithesis of Cat Noir - white versus black. Gabriel is trapped in s state of mind that Adrien is gradually leaving behind.

Another thing I didn't know is that author Robert Graves tied white with the moon goddess, who in mythology is usually said to have three faces, standing for the stages of life - childhood (waxing), motherhood (the full moon), and old age (waning). I think Gabriel's powers are beginning to wane. And although it's a stretch to say the writers of Miraculous had Graves in mind, there is so much moon symbolism tied into the show that I thought this was interesting to think on nonetheless.

Getting heavier, let's travel around the world to places like China, where white is the colour of mourning and worn at funerals. This makes white the colour of sadness, which ties up with Cat Blanc's months of grief and loneliness - but also Gabriel, who literally lives in a mausoleum for his wife and refuses to let go. Suddenly dressing all in white tells us he's gone all in. This is endgame. He's totally embodying his grief. And with white being tied to the end of life, it's a sign that the end of this particular story is nigh.

Now let's remember the old saying that 'Death rides a pale horse'. This comes from the depiction of the Apocalypse found in The Book of Revelation, at the end of the Bible. In fact, in Celtic tradition, if you see a pure white animal (especially if it has red ears), it's supernatural and not to be trusted. White is otherworldly and unnatural - about as unnatural as Gabriel making banana pancakes, amiright?

Gabriel is also straddling life and death. He's been cataclysmed and is now rotting away before our eyes. He's on that pale horse and has nothing left to lose.

There’s also a suggestion of the unknown - going back to that idea of being a blank slate, Gabriel is a wild card here. When someone like that gets truly desperate, we can no longer predict what he will do. Forcing a cataclysm on himself was definitely the start of this.

Coming back to the notion of honesty - we could apply this ironically to Gabriel, who, in his new white suit, recently shook hands with Nino, as if they were partners working against a common enemy.

On that note, let's look again at the Latin 'candidus'. This was considered the brightest shade of white, and it gives us the word 'candle'. So, white can be illuminating. We can see this as Adrien heading towards understanding, revelation. Gabriel is posing in the colour of honesty and innocence, but Adrien is soon to see through the pancakes.

On the other hand, Gabriel is slipping into a state of ignorance. He has never gained anything from all this power because he no longer understands love. He claims to do all this for Emilie, but it's gone far, far beyond that goal. He has reached the point of seeking power for power's sake.

He could learn a few lessons from Adrien, who reprised his Cat Blanc costume in 'Jubilation', this time worn as a wedding suit. It stands out because in European-style weddings the bride wears white but not the groom. The dream was a vision of grief and heartache being transmutated into something pure and beautiful - and of new starts. The slate had been wiped clean, ready for a new story to be written.

This leads me to think of the levels of karate. A lot of people don't realise that after the black belt, there's a higher level - the white belt. It's a sign of humility. Returning to the beginning shows an understanding that we never truly master anything. We're always learning. So Adrien moving from white (Alliance and other ads) to black (Cat Noir) to white again (the wedding vision) tells us he's completed one journey and is now applying the lessons he's learned to his next journey in life.

Of course, it was only a dream because he's not there yet. He needs to learn and deal with the truth about his father first. But all of this is coming.

Because white is the light at the end of the tunnel. As much as my son likes to say the Netflix show tags should now be 'grief', 'child abuse' and 'trauma', I truly see hope in every scene. White wipes the slate clean. Our favourite couple are so close to not a happy ending but a happy new beginning.

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numberonenat · 6 months

Text

kagakuro canon?

okay, this post will be a compilation of evidence and arguments on why i actually think kagami and kuroko is a canon pair.

disclaimer: they're not even my fav ship (it's midotaka), i'm really doing this cause i can't stop thinking about how canon it seems... (and cause it's fun)

translation: "i'm very happy i met you."

right, so...let's start with the basics, shall we?

their relationship

well, i haven't watched many sports animes but kuroko no basket follows a classic plot that we all know:

two main protagonists that don't know each other enter a random and medium team, both with a goal. one is a prodigy and the other one is really bad at first sight but when combined with someone else they really show their potential.

yeah and in the end that "someone else" is mainly the other one, obviously. they always have that "we complete each other" talk and that's the whole plot.

we can see that in haikyuu, yes (and i've only watched a season and a half by pure pressure), but in knb we see that too.

kagami's the prodigy and kuroko is the "weak" one, their goal is to play against all of the members of the generation of miracles and win. they can only do that together, that's the start of everything!

in knb's case the plot is much more interesting than that, but it is still what the anime revolves around.

them being together is what makes them strong. they need each other to get in their best forms and they will stay together. kagami's the light and kuroko's the shadow. they're complementary.

i'm sorry, but that's a gay plot. - really, i've only watched sports animes with a canonically gay main characters, like sk8 the infinity and yuri! on ice, or with this fking sus idea that is litteraly the plot of the anime (i WILL say that it's even gayer than the gay ones. IT'S THE MAIN IDEA).

but that's only what i think, right? so let's proceed to actual arguments and evidence.

first things first...

them and the girls.

kuroko and kagami both show little to no interest in any girl in the anime, while all of the other seirin members and a lot of other characters do constantly.

momoi for example;

she's in love with kuroko and makes it pretty clear. on the other side, he also makes his disinterest clear, still treating her well cause he's a decent person, of course, but always letting her know he doesn't like her back.

in kagami's case, while every other seirin guy totally drools over her - even junpei, who has shown to have feelings towards riko - he almost ignores her existence. moreover, he's even judged by the others for 'not knowing how to treat girls' in one of their few interactions.

and you could say it's like aomine; momoi's even his type but he just doesn't like her. it's a normal thing. they care for each other and see one another like brothers, there's no romantic feelings. kagami and kuroko could just be the same towards her.

but that's why i have more arguments, obviously.

before that tho, there's alex too. there's nothing much to say since anyone would be uncomfortable in being kissed out of nowhere by someone in their 30s especially when youre a minor. and kagami does, even tho he's already used to it.

i just think it's weird for the author to make this much fan service towards her, making her be naked around his house and stuff, and make him, the main 'victim' of that fanservice inside the anime, be uncomfortable (even riko blushed when she kissed her).

we all know that it's not only "how americans are seen in japan", it's pure fanservice. it's already problematic. he isn't trying to make it less problematic by making kagami uncomfortable, that's just how kagami is.

the character's bible.

now we're starting to get somewhere.

for those who don't know, kuroko no basuke characte's bible is a book that contains canon data about the characters. we also have some interviews, with diferent questions that are answered by the characters.

one of those questions is what their types of girl is...

kuroko: gentle people

kagami: stable gir……person……

kise: a girl who won't tie him down

midorima: older

aomine: girls with big bust

murasakibara: tall girl (if taller than me, then forget it)

-> credits of the translation: pika318 @/mangafox

the only ones that dont especify gender, even tho asked for type of > girl < it's kuroko and kagami.

you may think midorima is included but actually not (still have my own headcanon ofc but)...

think of it like asking someone for their favorite type of fruit. "sour" is an ok anwer, you don't need to specify saying "sour fruit". but answering you like "sour food" instead it's another thing, it's weird... like you purposely said it to indirectly say you don't like fruit or you simply like all types of sour food.

it was a weid example but y'all understand my point, right?

it's even more weird since kagami was going to say girl, but hesitated. like...why? why would he hesitate and then change it to "person" for no fking reason? sorry, it's too sus for me.

ok. then there's the relationship pages. kuroko and kagami's (obviously) to be more specific.

kuroko's:

aomine: old partner

kagami: current partner

momoi: girlfriend?

kise: friend

murasakibara: friend?

midorima: this person is difficult to deal with.

kagami's:

himuro: brotherlike

kuroko: partner

midorima: he annoys me

aomine: i’ll get revenge

kise: 「kagami-chi」 !?

alex: teacher

-> credits: fuyuyuu here on tumblr

okay, this doesn't prove anything by itself, and as is writen "old partner" (wow i cried) in aomine on kuroko's one we know that this means partner as in basket of course.

also! don't mind the "girlfriend?" in momoi, she refers herself as kuroko's girlfriend (that's why it's there and with a question mark) but that's all. it's canon that he doesn't like her, like i said, and they don't end up together. (ofc it's okay if you ship them duh- i'm literally doing a whole blog on kagakuro, i'm not the one to judge)

i just think it's a great addition, i couldn't leave it out of here and it's also SO cute even platonicly, c'mon.

and it also adds to the idea that they "complete each other" as in the sports anime plot.

people who they get along the best in their current team:

kuroko: kagami

kagami: i spend most of my time with kuroko

kise: kasamatsu, but he kicks me

midorima: takao, but he's my servant

aomine: sakurai, because his bento is delicious

murasakibara: himuro

-> credits of the translation: pika318 @/mangafox

there's also this...and it's kinda obvious but it's still cute.

and that's what i have from the character's bible...

the manga / anime itself.

okay, we've seen a lot of stuff now, but let's go to the thing that actually made me wanna do this post...

i was rewatching knb normaly until this happened:

translation: "i know one! they're so cute as a couple."

at first, i just laughed and imediatly took this picture to show my friends how canon they are (as a joke at the time). i was using my computer to watch and for some reason i can't connect my netflix account on it, so i was watching in a pirated website.

in this types of site, the subtitles are often translated by fans and since they are made by non profecionals, they always have a lot of mistranslations and typos. some fans like to purposely chance the translations too to make it more funny in some situations.

so after a while i figured i HAD to know if it was real cause i didn't remember to have seen this at the first time i watched.

i even took notes of what episode that was to check later in my tv's netflix, in both my language and english subtitles... but i am impatient so i did my research.

-> credits: luna~ on anime amino.

i found this.

i tried to enhance the quality of the picture so we can see better...

in case you still can't understand what izuki's saying: "aww, so cute! wait, they're not a couple...!"

yeah, the translation is not exactly the same, but just look at this, seriously. at least we can say izuki ships them, lol. that's more than something, right?

i'll still check the subtitles and the dubs when i can just to know what it's said there, but yeah...just...look.

also, there’s this scene in the middle of the seirin x yosen game where kagami says to kuroko: “besides, between my past with tatsuya and my future with you, it’s obvious which is more important” AND IT’S SO CUTE this scene lives in my mind rent free i love them so much even platonically-

well

lastly, i'll just leave here scenes where they're being cute cause i casually record them...and since i have it feel like i need to put them here...

cute!!! them fistbumping fistbump part 2

translation: "are you okay?" "damn"

i could only upload one so yeah, this is the best one, look at them.

like i said, this was only for fun since they'll probably never be confirmed...i have nothing else to do in life so i do this knda stuff YAY hope you all enjoyed it :)

english is not my first language so let me know if i make any mistakes.

i will continue rewatching and if i find something else i'll put it here!!! if you know about something else too, feel free to say it! (i actually beg you to)

#KAGAKURO CANON #sports animes are always so gay bro #kuroko no basket #kuroko no basuke #kuroko's basketball #kuroko tetsuya #kagami taiga #kagakuro #knb #kuroko no basquet #generation of miracles #seirin #taiga kagami #tetsuya kuroko #sports anime #kagakuro otp

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