#(at least until we see them talk in canon lmao)

[wazzi2ya]

Alastor and Velvette bond by twisting their heads 180° at random to scare the shit out of Vox and Val.

[jeannineee]

nsfw alphabet: suguru geto

warnings: uhh there's a lot lol. it's smut. minors don't interact.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

the actual opposite of how he was only moments before. very attentive and doting. will massage your sore muscles, kiss any marks he left. usually runs you a bath unless you're too tired.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

on himself, probably his hands. finds it cute when you mindlessly fidget with them. also likes how they look wrapped around your neck.

for you he loves your ass. i feel like this is something we have all agreed on collectively lmao. geto is an ass man.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

prefers to cum inside you. he's a simple man.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

honestly, geto is very open about what he's into, and what he would like to get out of your sex life. i don't see him hiding anything from you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he's canonically the man w the most experience. above gojo, anyway. he knows exactly what he's doing. you won't have to guide him very much, if at all.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

remember how i said he is an ass man?

any position that gives him a good view of your ass is preferred. reverse cowgirl, prone bone, doggy.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

it really just depends. lazy morning sex? he's cracking jokes.

rough sex post-argument? he's v serious. it simply depends.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he just keeps a small patch of hair at the base. yes, it matches the hair on his head.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he can be very intimate. like, the type of intimacy that is almost overwhelming, if that makes sense? something w his presence idk if y'all are gonna follow me on this one but yeah.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he does it whenever the need arises. but usually, you're around.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

first off, he has a daddy kink don't fight me on this. also into orgasm control, bondage--esp. shibari. bdsm in general tbh. likes mixing praise and degradation.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

he actually prefers the bedroom, so he can take his time with you. but if the two of you really need on another, he's down for anywhere.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

you, just you. it doesn't take much for him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

he doesn't have very many limits lol do with that what you will.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

prefers giving!! but he's very teasing abt it. he very much enjoys edging you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

usually on the rougher side.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he doesn't prefer them. he would rather take his time with you.

see L= location.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

very happy to experiment. he regularly comes to you with new things to try, and encourages you to do the same.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he can last for hours on end. good luck.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he owns a plethora of toys, majority for you. lots of rope, vibrators, plugs, etc.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he is very, very unfair when it comes to teasing. he loves hearing you beg, so don't expect him to give in very quickly.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

somewhere in the middle. talks a lot when he's teasing you. also talks you through it. hismoaning isn't super loud until he's close to finishing.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

wants to try subbing for you at least once, but isn't sure if he'd really enjoy it or not.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he's hung. don't play with me. about 8 inches and very girthy.

(god i am gross LMFAOOOO)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

moderate. enough time for you to be able to recover in between. you're gonna need it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

it usually takes him awhile. (overthinkers club!!!) you're always the first one to fall asleep.

[boxofbonesfic]

 

Title: Blood and Sand (2 of 2)

Pairing: Werewolf!Moon Knight x Reader

Wordcount: 8,594

Summary: You are selected to accompany your mentor on a dig, but what you find in the desert instead makes you wish you had never come at all.

Warnings: Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Fantasy, Dark Fantasy, Murder, Kidnapping, Cults, Implied Torture, AU, Smut, Monsterfucking, Lycanthropy, Cannibalism

A/N: honestly, thank you for reading part one because this is just… porn and violence luckily for me, those are some of my favorite things to write, LMAO. we knew this was going to be self indulgent, so i hope it’s your kind of self-indulgent too. to be clear: this part has all the fuckin’; human, monster and otherwise. 😂❤️ spanish translations provided by the amazing @negronispagliato❤️ bottom divider by @firefly-graphics!

💀

“Oh thank fucking Christ.” 

You wake with your head pillowed in Steven’s lap, his eyes dark with concern. You shift, moving to get up—but your skull erupts with pain. Sharp tendrils of it that strike at the nerves behind your watering eyes. Even talking is too much, your jaw aching as you attempt to open your mouth. 

“No, Love, don’t.” He holds you still, large palms cradling your face on either side as you whimper. Steven’s eyes harden with anger. “Prick made you read too much.” The hard edge in his voice is unfamiliar—unsettling, even. You aren’t used to seeing anger on Steven’s face. No, that emotion is much more reserved for Marc or Jake—but he’s nearly trembling with it, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I’ll fucking kill him.” The words are so low you barely hear them—hell, you half wonder if you’ve imagined them. For a moment, a shaft of the setting sun sinking beneath the frame of the narrow window, and his chocolate eyes turn a molten, animal yellow. 

“I will eat his fucking heart.”

Steven has the patience of a saint, laying there unmoving until the pain subsides enough for you to crawl out of his lap. Your whole body feels exhausted, wrung out and limp. The water he offers you is tinny, but you’re used to it—every drink of water you’ve had in recent memory tastes like this, it’s almost all you know. 

“What happened?” You croak, fingers struggling to hold onto the chipped mug you both share. Steven looks angry—and then ashamed. 

“You read,” he says slowly. Reluctantly, he brings his sorrowful gaze to yours.

“And we ate.” 

They do not come for him again that night, and you’re grateful for it, burying your face against his chest, clinging to Steven beneath the threadbare blanket—the only one you have. You suppose at least that you are grateful that there are no rats, no spiders or insects. They keep the the corners, skittering away whenever he comes close. 

They can sense it, you think, the thing beneath his skin. You can too. 

—

Marc kisses you hungrily, his fingers tangling in the curls at the nape of your neck as he tugs your head back. With his other arm he pulls you hard against his chest. You go willingly, easily, arching your back against him. He’s not back yet—not fully, not really. 

The other priests can’t read the Word like you can, don’t feel it the way you do—so it takes longer for Marc to come back to himself from the jackal-thing, the moon-drunk thing, and sometimes when they bring him back to you, it’s still worming around inside his head. 

Like tonight. 

Claws prick at your skin, stroking the line of your throat. Marc’s too-sharp teeth pull at the lobe of your ear before he kisses you again, sloppily. 

He tastes like copper.  

“Make me forget.” It’s a demand, not a request, but it’s one you’re happy to oblige. 

“He’s hard behind you, the fat length of him pressing insistently between the cheeks of your ass. One hand slithers beneath the tattered hem of your tank top, trailing the pads of his fingers across your nipples. The other squeezes the curve of your hip. He doesn’t pull your pants down all the way—full nudity is a privilege you cannot afford anymore. Not with the guards doing random checks now, now that they know.

Pricks. 

Mikhail especially seemed to take great pride in discovering you, often standing at the observation window when he had no reason to—the weight of his cold gaze heavy on you every time. 

Marc boxes you in with his body—you suspect both because he enjoys the feel of you pressed against him with nowhere else to go, and because from this angle, they can only see his back. Marc kicks your legs open a little wider, humming as he spreads the thick beads of precum leaking from his tip across his head, and you shudder as he slides against you with a lewd squelch. Your breath catches as he traces your pulse with one sharp claw. 

“Are you afraid of me?” There are two voices in his throat, twining around one another like vines. One is Marc’s, the one you know, the one that growls your name hungry and low—

And the other one, the one that knows you. 

“No.” You aren’t. You should be, should always have been, but for some reason, you never are. There’s so much fear here, running in your veins, oozing out of the fucking walls, you don’t want to feel it with Marc, too. You reach behind yourself to palm his cock with slow, sure passes until he moans into your hair, hips bucking into your hand. You clench around nothing, and Marc chuckles darkly into your hair like he knows it. 

“I can smell it, you know?” He breathes, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “How wet you are,” his hand snakes around to your front, sliding down beneath your loose waistband to cup your cunt, fingers slipping eagerly through your folds. He bites down hard enough to bruise, and you whine his name pathetically. 

“Marc—!”

“See?” He circles your entrance with deft fingers, the rough stubble on his face rasping against your cheek. “So ready.” Your eyelids go slack, your head lolling back against Marc’s shoulder as he presses two thick fingers into you, moaning low. “Soft and sweet and ready…” You don’t even think he’s talking to you, now, mumbling to himself—no, to Jake and Steven, probably—about his enjoyment of your body, how good you feel, how much he wants you. Marc scoffs at a comment you didn’t make, confirming your theory. 

“Made for us, huh?” Marc draws a line with the tip of his claw over your nipple, and you feel his lips curve against your throat. “Maybe so.” He grips the back of your head with one hand, the other still buried in your cunt as he kisses you again, hungrily swallowing the whimpering moan you try and fail to contain. He sucks on your tongue, running the sharp points of his canines along it before releasing you.

“Steven says you’re made for us.” He watches your face with pale yellow eyes, enjoying the look of dizzy bliss you know is there. You whine when he thumbs at your clit, your eyes rolling as you clamp down around his fingers. He grins.

“I think he might be onto something.” Everything you know is turned on its head now—everything is real, because how do you know it’s not? Gods and Monsters, the veil is open, forever torn for you now, and you see them all. 

“Maybe so,” you run your tongue across your lips and he follows the movement with rapt attention. “Or maybe you were made for me.” 

He laughs.

Marc scissors his fingers inside you as you go to pieces. Happy, it seems, to shoulder your weight because your trembling legs will not do so on their own. He alternates between sucking at your pulse point, and mumbling heated, possessive promises into the curve of your jaw. You feel each word as he says it, maybe even a little before, his lips moving against your skin. 

“You feel so good, Baby, m’gonna feel you on my cock next,” You’re too gone to be embarrassed by the wet sucking noise your cunt makes when he pulls his fingers out, watching as he lifts them to his mouth, deftly cleaning each one with long strokes of his tongue. It’s almost enough to make you forget where you are, what you’ve done.

What you’ve become.

You aren’t like him, but you aren’t like you anymore, either. You see the words in your minds eye even when Loki’s book isn’t before you, feel the weight of them on your tongue days before you speak them. No, you are changed. 

It’s why you need this as much as Marc does—it’s the only thing you can control. 

“Hands on the wall, Baby.” You brace your palms against the wall as he nudges your thighs wide with his knee, pulling the waistband of your pants down to your thighs. You can’t help but arch back a little as he slides his cock through the soaked and swollen folds of your cunt, moaning your name. The low, guttural appreciative sound he makes as he sinks in is almost as good as the burning stretch of his entry. You arch, pushing back against him until he’s seated all the way inside, his hips pressing tight against the curve of your ass. 

“Fuuuck.” 

You’re blissfully full, stars dancing behind your closed eyes and then—Christ—he starts to move. Marc grips your waist with both hands, holding you good and still. Your fingers scrabble against the concrete wall, teeth sinking into your lip as he drives into you, pulling nearly all the way out before filling you completely again. 

Maybe Steven’s right, you think, as Marc wraps one hand around your throat, pulling you flush against his chest. Maybe I was made for them. It certainly lends credence to his theory, the way your body fits perfectly into the hollow of his like this, his cock filling you so completely that there’s barely even room for breath. The hand on your hip drifts to your belly, pressing down as he slides back in. His lips curve against your ear. 

“Think I can feel me in there?” He asks, before pressing down harder. You writhe against him, your body hot. “Maybe if I press harder…”  Marc holds you like that for a while, pressing down on your belly with one hand as he ruts into you, growling. You’re practically a mess by the time he begins to work at your clit with his thumb, circling it softly.

“M-Marc, fuck,” You grit his name out as you cum again, twitching pathetically in his arms. Marc’s head falls back, his eyes closed as he revels in the feel of it, you clenching around his cock like a vise. He presses in deeper, a and fuck, you hadn’t even known he could. And you feel his teeth—blunt now—press hard into your neck as he spills inside of you, the warmth of it making you shudder. 

He stays like that, his teeth buried in your throat while he pants, fingers flexing on your hips. 

Marc cleans you up, sacrificing a portion of what little water you are allotted to clean the mess he’s left between your thighs, and you return the favor, before laying down heavily on the cot. Marc curls around you, placing his body between you and the door. 

—

“She’s not going.” Jake has placed himself between you and Mikhail, his arms crossed. “She’s not well.” You aren’t. You’ve been… wrong since your reading the night before, your head swimming with symbols, and a man with a bird skull for his head; bleached white like it had been baked in the unforgiving desert sun, tall enough to move the moon across the sky. Your nose is still bleeding sluggishly, too, you taste copper when you lick your lips. No, not a man—a God. 

KHONSU.

Why do you know his name? 

“This is not a debate.” Mikhail sneers. He’d come alone today, unlike every other time he had been sent to fetch you. Loki didn’t take chances when it came to security, you’d learned that by now. So why was he here? Alone?

“Loki wants her.” He jerks his head at you, blue eyes dark over Jake’s shoulder when he meets your gaze. “Move, freak.” Perhaps he doesn’t know the difference between the three, or maybe he just doesn’t care, but a lump forms in your throat when Jake squares his posture, fingers curling into tight fists. 

“What, you going to fight me in chains?” He mocks. “I said move.”

“No.” 

You’re expecting more of Mikhail’s smug condescension—not for him to ball his meaty fingers into a fist and punch Jake. His head snaps to the side, and you watch a satisfied smirk spreads across Mikhail’s face in response. He tries to shoulder past in that moment, using Jake’s surprise as an avenue around him. 

You hear the sick sound of bone crunching as your brain struggles to understand what you’re seeing. Mikhail’s arm is broken, hanging limply at his side, while Jake stands over him, his lip curling. 

“I see how you look at her.” He kicks him, and Mikhail looses a pathetic whine as the breath is driven from his lungs. “Patético.” He squats down, gripping Mikhail’s short, blond hair. 

“Let go—fucking stop!” He shouts, and finally, you hear the guards clamoring at the end of the hall. 

“The fuck is going on down there?!”

“You hear that?”

It doesn’t deter Jake though, as he cocks back and drives his fist into the other man’s face hard. His eyes are dark, jaw set tight. The muscles in his back tense and flex as he draws back again, and the spray of blood that coats his face as Mikhail’s nose breaks this time coats Jake’s face, flecking his skin with thick drops of red. He licks his lips before bringing a sputtering, gagging Mikhail’s  head level with his own. His eyes are red and crossed with burst vessels, nose smashed in and lips burst open.

“Fuck you!” He screams, his voice cracking with pain. “You and your fucking whore—”

“You think I don’t know what you were planning? What you were going to do?” Jake asks, cocking his head like he really wants to know the answer. “March her out of here, take her someplace nice and quiet,” Jake pauses, spitting on the ground beside Mikhail. “Asqueroso de mierda.” Fucking pig.

“Quiero que sepas que eres un muerto viviente. Entiendes? You’re done.” You’re a dead man. I want you to know now, understand? So when it comes later, it isn’t a surprise.  Jake doesn’t let go, not even as the sound of frantic footfall grows closer, only seconds away, now. “So when it comes, it isn’t a fucking surprise.” 

The guards storm into the room, shouting, weapons drawn. There’s so much blood, Mikhail’s bones are sticking up through the ruined meat of his arm, not to mention his face. Loki follows, his face contorting with anger.

It takes Rumlow pressing his pistol to the back of Jake’s head to make him  stop, to make him let go so they can drag Mikhail out of the room as he wails, cursing the both of you. You can tell Loki wants to punish him—punish both of you—but he needs you. You to read the book, to be the conduit he can’t be, and Jake to partake of the sacrifice, to consume the flesh and appease the God whose power they’ve stolen. 

And Mikhail needs medical attention.

Loki settles for roughing  Jake up a little, the guard team taking turns until he’s had enough, waving his hand to call them off. To his credit, Jake looks fairly unfazed, despite the physical evidence otherwise. 

“Perhaps housing the two of you together was a mistake.” He replies, and you scowl at him. 

“Kidnapping people for your fucked up rituals was a mistake.” You reply, and he laughs. 

“How cute.” Loki’s slow smile sends a shiver down your spine. “You still think you’re people.” 

They don’t come that night—too busy with Mikhail, you expect. 

Which is good, because Jake Lockley is nothing if not an opportunist. You wake as he’s fitting your knees over his shoulders, gazing up at you hungrily from between your thighs, his black honey voice rumbling in your ears. 

“Ábrelas pa’ mi.” Open for me. There is utter silence around you, no footsteps, no quiet conversation from the end of the hall. For the first time in weeks—months—you are truly alone. 

So there is no one to hear the rising cacophony of your voice as Jake sets to work between your thighs, his tongue lashing against your clit, and fingers prodding eagerly at your entrance. Your eyes roll, a breathy moan worming out from your throat. You can’t help yourself from rocking your hips against his face, and Jake smirks, his lips curving against your cunt. 

“Te sientes bien, nena?” Feel good, Baby?

“U-uh-huh,” you nod dumbly. Your unfocused eyes stare unseeingly at the dark ceiling, one hand tangled in his messy curls just to have something to hold on to. Jake groans when you pull, his fingers pressing into the softness of your thighs as he holds you still. There’s a hunger, a desperation in his touch that is markedly different from the way Marc, or Steven does. 

Like he knows he may never get another chance. 

You arch up off the cot, and Jake’s palm cracks against your thigh in warning. 

“Still.” He cuts his eyes at you from between your thighs. “No hagas que me repita.” Don’t make me say it again.

He devours you until you’re trembling, toes curling as you cum with a wail. Jake’s fascination with your cunt is obsessive, the way he maps every inch with his tongue, checking the lines with his fingers just in case. He rolls his tongue against your clit, chuckling darkly when you convulse. When he’s finally had his fill, Jake rises from between your legs, wiping your slick from his mouth with the back of his hand. 

For a moment, he just looks at you, studying the lines of your body and committing each one to memory. You feel strangely vulnerable laying there beneath him, not because this is the first time—it isn’t, and at this point you’ve lost count—but because you realize this is the first time any of them has ever seen you fully naked since the first time, not just with your shirt rucked up beneath your chin, or your joggers pulled down around your thighs. 

You reach for Jake, kissing him and tasting yourself on his lips and tongue as he fits his hips between your thighs like a puzzle piece. The full body shudder that erupts is impossible to hide as his cock slides against you. Jake grins down at you. 

“Esto es tuyo, déjamelo darte.” That’s yours, Querida. Let me give it to you.

The thick, rigid length of him takes up every inch of available space inside you at this angle; and Jake glories in it, pressing your thighs apart and back, muttering silent curses as he throws his head back. He pulls out, quickly filling you again with a wet, vulgar noise that would’ve embarrassed you had you the capacity to consider it, but you don’t, not when Jake is looming over you. He isn’t an emotive man, not even a particularly talkative one, but like this… He practically sings.

“Shh. I want to see if I can get in any deeper. I know you’d like that.” Your cunt squeezes down around him as if in response, and Jake chuckles. He slides his hands down your thighs like he’s holding you steady as he presses in. Once he’s in as far as he can get, his hips fitted against yours almost too tightly, there isn’t room in you for breath, let alone thought. And whichever words do make it into your head simply just… come out of your mouth, even if they’re just half formed. 

“Sh-shit, Jake—what’re you—fuck—!” Luckily for you, he’s not really listening anyway, his dark eyes focused on the slick mess between your legs, but you can’t stop the train now that it’s started, whiny, needy pleas falling from your lips without your say-so. Jake cups your chin, dragging his thumb across your parted lips.

“Stick out your tongue, baby—mierda, así mismo-!” fuck, yes, like that-! Jake squeezes your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger before leaning down to suck on your tongue as he slams into you, groaning. Your head is spinning, eyes wide and glassy as your lover places his index and middle fingers on the flat of your tongue.

“Chúpame.” Suck. You obey immediately and without complaint, closing your mouth around his fingers. Jake moans so low it sounds almost like a growl, his fingers digging into the meat of your hip as his eyes roll shut. He thrusts in hard and you gag around his fingers, whimpering. They’re slick with your drool when he pulls away, thick strands of it connecting the tips of his fingers to your puffy, kiss swollen lips. It’s like the sight inspires him, and he takes them again, furiously devouring every gasp and moan you release as he continues to fuck you. 

Every single one of your nerve endings is writhing with pleasure, a veritable ocean of it overwhelming you as you’re swept away beneath it. Jake is everywhere, his hands on your face, your hips, your breasts, your cunt—in your fucking mouth—you don’t know how to process it all. 

You’re cumming before you realize it, choking out a curse as you press your face, your teeth into the side of his neck. His cock spasms inside of you only moments after, sticky warmth oozing out of the place where you’re joined as Jake presses his forehead against yours, eyes closed. After a few seconds, he collapses to the side, sliding out of you only for an instant before he pulls you against his chest. You shiver as he slips back in just as easily. 

The next words he speaks are uttered quietly into your hair. 

“Can we sleep like this, querida?”  His fingers trace patterns on your skin. “Please.” You don’t ask why—you don’t need to. 

“Yeah,” you nod against his chest, and he pulls the blankets up around your shoulders. “Okay, Jake.” He presses a kiss to the space between your shoulder blades, and as your world fades to black, you feel his lips moving against your skin, mouthing the words he won’t say out loud. 

—

“King of crossroads

Travelers and Thieves

Accept this offering, accept his flesh and blood as penance—”

Blood streams from your nose as you read the Word, coating your lips and dripping down your chin. You can taste it in your mouth as you form each   syllable. Your skull feels like it’s about to split open—there’s not enough room inside for infinity, after all. You see yourself spread out like a series of mirrored reflections in every direction, in every lifetime.

You read the book in every century, you worship the God of Moons and mirrors at sacred altars raised high above the chaos below and profane ones, hidden in in the deep, secret places. You are a thousand you’s who have come before, whose blood stains the pages like yours does—

As you read, he eats. 

You barely hear the screams anymore—it’s so hard to hear them, over the noise of a thousand thousand lifetimes—but in your doubled, tripled, infinite vision, sometimes you see it. 

The thing in your lovers’ skin, the jackal-thing, tears the arm from a crying man, but you cannot smell the blood. Your nostrils are still full of incense from somewhere else, but you hear the sickening sound of splintering bone, gore staining the jackal-thing’s wide maw. It turns unfocused, yellow eyes on the guards in the outer circle of the ritual room, snarling. Distantly, you suppose you are aware of the sound of straining metal, stone cracking as he, they, it, strains to reach them, it’s long arms outstretched. 

“Stop.” Loki’s voice is eons away. He shakes you—you don’t feel it. Your eyes don’t even stray from the page. “Stop, I said!”  The commands blur into insignificant background noise, you cannot hear Loki now, because He is here. You can feel him, turning his attention to you as his power flows in through your soul and out through your mouth. And when He slips in to look through your eyes, His disgust makes your own lip curl. 

UNWORTHY.

Loki slaps you then, his palm cracking across your cheek, snatching the book from your hands. The last few syllables die out on your tongue as he snaps it shut. You stand there, dazed and blinking at your empty hands. Slowly, you bring your hand to your face, sweeping the tips of your trembling fingers through the sticky wetness just above your lips, and they come away dark red. 

Below you, the beast strains to reach the soldiers still. You squint at the links connecting the collar at its throat to the anchor set deep into the concrete—are they stretching? As you think it, there’s a metallic snap as it bursts, affording the creature another foot forward. It strains at the two on it’s arms, pulling with all its might. 

You know you don’t have long before he reverts, before the bones begin to crack again, turning skin to ragged meat as his body changes again—

You cannot let that happen. 

Loki doesn’t expect you to lunge for the book, to drive your shoulder into his chest as hard as you can. The air rushes out of his lungs, and he stumbles back, cursing breathlessly.

“What the fuck are you doing—”

You snatch the book from his limp fingers. Book is an exaggeration for the stack of loosely bound, frayed papyrus you hold in your hands, between two carved slabs of soapstone. It practically hums against your skin as you hold it now. You will decide which parts you read.

“You have no idea what you’re doing!” Loki snarls, staggering toward you. “Give me—”You step back just as the second chain breaks, leaving only one. Someone shoots, a bullet passing through the meat of the jackal-thing’s shoulder, but the wound closes up before your eyes, knitting back together till there’s nothing a there but short wiry fur and a few drops of blood. 

“Boss!” One of the guards calls up to Loki from below. “He’s—”

The final chain snaps, and the beast looses a triumphant snarl. “Shoot!” Loki screams. “Fucking shoot it!” You watch, horrified as the rain of bullets tear into its flesh, chunks of stinking, steaming meat littering the floor by its feet. It doesn’t seem to care, luminous yellow eyes fever bright with bloodlust. The ragged holes in its flesh close almost as instantly as they appear, bone and sinew mending back together as the soldiers scream. You watch as it tears one of their arms out of the socket, its wide jaws frothy with blood and spittle as it crunches through the raw, red meat of it. 

“Kill him!” Loki is screaming, the remaining guards flocking to him as the beast, the jackal, tears through the men in the sacrificial circle. “Fucking shoot him!” The carved stone beneath them is slick with blood, the whole room stinks of it, hot copper and fresh meat. Their boots slip against it as they struggle to escape, many of them having fired their entire clips into his unwavering chest. 

The words flow from your mouth like electrical current, bypassing your brain as your tongue forms words you’ve never heard before, words that leave your head buzzing and ringing. There’s pressure behind your eyes, in your skull, a full feeling that leaves blood leaking from both your nostrils. The text becomes one word, a single word, and you know the book has changed to meet its maker’s will, the one who speaks through you now, whose clear moonlight burns at your insides and streams out of your mouth as the words singe your tongue. 

DEVOUR. 

DEVOUR. 

DEVOUR.

You both feel and do not feel Loki press the cool muzzle of his pistol to the back of your head. 

“Stop. Fucking. Reading.” He seethes, pulling back the hammer. 

You wouldn’t even if the choice was still yours, but you don’t tell him that. You can’t, not with your throat full of the most ancient of magics. He pulls the trigger, and you feel the bullet burn against your skin—but it does not penetrate. Instead, it falls to the floor at your feet, rolling until it falls down into the gory mess below. He’s behind you, but you can see him anyway—the moon is a mirror, and all mirrors are your eyes—his face ashen, blinking as he fires again, and again, and the bullets all fall uselessly away like pebbles. 

“We need to go!” Rumlow is covered in blood, his face bearing the marks of the beast’s displeasure. “Fucking now!” He racks another round into his gun as he barrels up the stairs. Behind him, your monster is making short work of the three remaining guards on the lower floor. “If she wants to stay here and burn her-fucking-self to ashes, let her! There’s always another voice, ain’t that what you said?” Loki nods, casting you a dirty look. “Let’s go!”  as it stands there in the pile of steaming gore, it lifts its shaggy head up toward the moon framed in the skylight, and howls.  

“We need the fucking book!” He argues. He steps towards you, like he means to pry your fingers from its smoking pages, but he reels back, screaming. A monstrous hand the size of a butterfly net bursts through Rumlow’s bulletproof vest, and somehow you can hear the wet sound of the merc’s body trying to function around the intrusion—a wet, sucking noise—before he drops to the ground, still. 

The jackal-thing steps over him. The dark fur around its mouth is flecked with bits of meat, and it runs its tongue along its muzzle in obvious anticipation of more. But instead of advancing on your fleeing captors, it turns to you, fixing you with those terrifying eyes. 

COME. 

DEVOUR.

COME.

DEVOUR.

The God steps into you as one might shrug on a too small coat, steadily and aggressively working his way into your body, filling you like a helium balloon. The same presence you’d felt when you first touched the book overwhelms you now, and more burning light pours from your eyes as he peers about the room with indisputable anger. The voice that comes from your mouth is not yours, is not human. 

It is the sound of sand, of tides, of ages and of cold fire. 

“YOU WHO HAVE ABUSED MY POWER.” White fire pours from your lips, dripping down to the floor to pool like liquid. You do not take a step forward, Khonsu does, and the stone cracks beneath your combined weight. “YOU WHO HAVE SLAIN THE INNOCENT. WHO HAVE ENSLAVED THE PRIESTS OF MY HOUSE.” They run then, making for the doors, but neither you, nor Khonsu feel the need to chase them. 

It makes no difference. 

“YOU WILL BURN.” 

You lift your hand, and you feel the jackal’s blood slick fur against your palm as he leaps at your command. The halls are filled with a veritable symphony of pleading and screams as his jaws find them—or you do.

Loki makes it all the way to the vehicles, dragging a broken leg behind him as the two of you follow closely behind. It is more satisfying than you can admit as you wrap your fingers around his throat, his flesh blackening and peeling away as you lift him. 

“My hand was forced,” you say, grinning as the realization dawns . “But you will never force it again.” 

He doesn’t have vocal chords left to scream with as he burns. 

You know it when Loki dies, because you feel all the power go out of you, your body crumpling like a doll. He’s gone, the God, the ancient thing wearing your skin to exact his vengeance. You feel like an empty glove, and you lay there in the sand as the garage burns behind you, smoke curling into the dark night sky. The shape of his presence remains within you, though, and your spirit rushes back in to fill the space. 

Exhilarated, giddy exhaustion fills you, hell, you feel like you might even be high. You’re flying, your blood singing with the echoes of the power of ancients, even as you lay there, your body exhausted. 

The jackal-thing approaches you, yellow eyes bright as it covers your body with its own. You’re barely clothed now, the signed remains of your tank-top and joggers easy enough to strip off. You feel magnetized, like you have to touch and be touched, like the energy thrumming in your veins needs their help to release. And by the impatient, possessive way the jackal-thing looks at you, you gather they feel much the same. 

The beast snuffles at your hair, and then licks at the space above your collarbone, huffing. You whimper when his teeth break skin, arching your back against his chest. There’s a deep rumble that sounds almost like Marc’s laughter before it looses a growl, laving at the blood-sticky skin of your throat. 

His tongue laps at the blood between your breasts, and you hiss, your nipples peaking stiffly. You aren’t afraid, not of him—of them. You don’t know that you’re really afraid of anything anymore, not when you have but to speak for the ancient power to fill you like a water balloon. 

Claws press at your soft skin, goosebumps rising in their wake as you feel his grip tighten around your waist. He wants you on your belly. You know it instinctively, like the knowledge had come from your own head, and not from elsewhere. 

You whine as he pulls away, but you roll over, your hands slipping in the sand. They don’t wait for you to position yourself fully, tugging you back against the creature’s furry hips, it’s sticky, pink cock pressing insistently against your already slick folds. It feels like fireworks are popping off beneath your skin, and you can hardly contain your joy. 

They’re dead. Not just dead but punished, and you are free. 

Free.

Your mouth opens as he slams inside, the throbbing knot at the base of his cock forces you open even further and you let out a breathy wail. You suppose you should be ashamed, afraid, you should be a lot of things—but what does that even mean, now? Now that you are this? What even are shoulds in the face of what you have weathered?

The jackal-thing looses a pleased growl, rutting into you with sharp, hungry thrusts. They soon punch not only the air from your lungs but the thoughts from your head, your eyes rolling as you fall forward onto your forearms. He bears down on you with singleminded insistence, carving space out from within you that you know you’ll feel later. 

“Oh God, oh God, Jake.” You mumble their names amidst streams of nonsense into the crook of your arm as the pleasure condenses into an aching point in your belly. “M-Marc, p-please, I need—S-Steven—” Teeth close around the meat above your collarbone, and you let out a wail that echoes across the dark sand as you cum fitfully. If not for the possessive hands at your hips holding you in place, you’d have fallen flat on your belly onto the sand. Instead, you twitch and whine in his hold as his cock throbs heavily inside your slick, spasming cunt, flooding you with sticky heat. There’s so much of it you can feel it leaking out of the place where you’re joined, dripping down the backs of your thighs. 

When you try to move, the jackal-thing growls at you, and you resolve to stay still, at least for a little while. You can feel it’s tongue move against the wound, laving it slowly, lovingly. He pulls out of you, and there’s a sickening crack as his body begins to revert again. You sit gingerly on the remains of your joggers and close your eyes as you wait for silence. 

You hate this part—you know it hurts. 

Soon, though, there is skin pressed against your back instead of wiry fur, and when you venture a glance over your shoulder, Steven looks back at you, bloody and exhausted. 

“Hello, Love.” 

—

You know you’re grinding blood and viscera into the luxurious white carpet as you enter Loki’s rooms, but the mess only brings you a giddy sort of satisfaction. There is so much blood—so many bodies. You’d stopped counting Loki’s sacrifices, and you find yourself wondering if the bodies number the same—if somehow they cancel one another out. Part of you hopes they do, that the scales will at least be balanced, if not weighted in your favor. But there is another part of you, a new part—but somehow ancient at the same time—whispers dark words of reassurance that you can barely discern from the background noise of your own thoughts. 

They deserved it. Vile murderers, usurpers—

Their deaths were too merciful. 

The suite looks like something out of a magazine, like a five-star hotel come to the goddamn desert. There’s even air-conditioning. He had lived above you in luxury for months—you don’t even know how long, not really—while only floors below the two of you had been kept in terror and squalor. 

It would have been laughable if you hadn’t had to live through it yourself. 

It doesn’t occur to you that you’re destroying things until the first bottle of expensive cologne becomes victim to your cold, unthinking rage as you grab it off of the dressing table and lob it into the mirror. You watch the pieces of glass burst and shatter into uncountable fragments. For a moment, you see your own bloody face reflected back at you before it crumbles. It’s unbelievably satisfying. So much so that you pick up something else—a watch, a fucking rolex—and hurl that too. Golden springs roll away underneath the dresser as the pieces shoot off in all directions

 Steven doesn’t say anything as you grab the heavy looking table-clock too, and beat it into pieces against the table’s surface. 

You stand there, panting in the aftermath of your rage, a trail of destruction leading across the room. Steven pulls you into a tight embrace, and you sob into his chest, openmouthed and wailing. You had watched as the beast had slaughtered everyone—and and it was right to do it. As somehow, it—they?—had kept every promise made. 

Mikhail’s ruined throat, the beast feeding you warm, slick pieces of Loki’s beating heart—

So why aren’t you whole yet? Why do you still feel like a piece of you has been carved out, lost forever? Replaced with something ancient? Unknowable? You cling to Steven, terrified that if you loose grip on him, you’ll loose your tenuous hold on reality. He lets you cry, stroking your head and mumbling soft affirmations into your hair until you’re only sniffling, instead of sobbing brokenly against his skin. When you’re ready to, you pull away, and rub the back of your bloody hand across your face. 

He tucks a finger under your chin, those big, dark eyes of his swirling with emotions you cannot hope to name.

“Let’s get cleaned up, shall we?” He asks with a weak smile. “Can’t go back to civilization looking like we killed people.” 

“We did,” you say, looking down at the dried blood staining your palms. There is a soft voice that curls up like smoke from the darkness at the edges of your thoughts, sounding so much like your own that you aren’t entirely sure it isn’t you thinking it—They deserved it. They deserved justice.

Steven’s smile falters. “They would have killed us, Love.” 

“I—I know. I know. They deserved it.” Your fingers curl into righteous fists. You remember the hail of bullets at the dig-site, every screaming, pleading person Loki forced down the beast’s throat, and those thoughts curdle the self doubt sitting in your belly. The God’s booming voice echoes in your memories. 

UNWORTHY. USURPERS. KILL THEM ALL.

“They deserved it.” 

You explore Loki’s bedroom, the press of a button unlocking an equally luxurious bathroom. You’re stripping before you realize it, the ragged, dirty clothes you’d been wearing discarded on the tile floor. The water is hot as soon as you turn it on, and when you step gratefully under the spray, you nearly begin to cry again. You haven’t bathed properly in months—you don’t even know how long you’ve been here. Steven steps in behind you, and the two of you stand beneath the rainfall shower head, watching red swirl down the drain. 

Steven takes such care with you, you almost worry he thinks you’ll break, shampooing your hair, detangling the thick curls with his fingers. You relax against him, the muscular planes of his chest pressed against your back. He rinses the suds from your hair and skin, cupping water over your head. You let him.

 As the ash and blood wash from your skin, you discover new scars, ones you could not even hope to notice in the dim light of your cell. It’s like you’re rediscovering yourself, relearning what you look like, who you even are. You feel like a different person now, than the one who’d been brought here, her head bagged, wrists zip-tied—

No, you are someone else now, someone else entirely. 

Steven cups water over the bite mark on your shoulder, and you hiss at the sting of it. He doesn’t stop though, pressing an apologetic kiss to the skin between your shoulder blades as he cleans your wound. 

“Made a right mess of you, he did,” Steven replies. “Eager bastard.” 

“Well, it’s not like he can kiss me,” you say, and Steven laughs. 

“I-I think I can fix that,” he says, his voice thick with sweet, eager confidence. You fear for an instant that some spark of the earlier fire still remains inside of you, but as Steven caresses the curve of your jaw lovingly, you do not feel the all consuming fire—you just feel him. 

He presses kiss after kiss to your lips until they’re parted and swollen from his attentions, his firm hand on your chin holding your head steady as he works. Steven only stops when you’re dizzy and panting, fingers scrabbling against his slick skin as you try to hold onto him. He pulls you down onto his lap on the shower bench, groaning as his cock presses against your cunt. 

“F-fuck, Steven,” the words are gasped against his throat as your fingers dig into the meat of his shoulders. “God-!” He holds your hips steady, the two of you rocking against each other. How does this feel more intimate than when he’s actually inside you, his cock sliding through your slick folds with audible noise, his other hand tangled in the curls at the nape of your neck with his face pressed to the side of your throat. You’re eager for more contact—desperate for it, even, but he keeps the pace frustratingly slow and steady.  

“Used to dream about when we’d get t’do this—patience, Love—with no one bloody watching.” Steven rocks his hips into yours, and you pressing sloppy, needy kisses of your own against the skin of his neck and shoulders, and you feel his hips buck against you as he chuckles. 

“Fuck, you little minx.” He grips your wrists behind your back with one large hand, forcing you to arch against him. He groans before leaning down to tug one of your nipples between his teeth. ”Fine pair we make.”

“Oh yeah?” You ask, fighting to keep the words even as he wraps his lips around the other nipple, and your toes curl. “And what pair is that?” Steven releases you with a pop, and then releases you so he can squeeze your breasts together, admiring your swollen, puffy nipples. 

“The voice and the vengeance, of course,” he says, pressing another kiss to the skin between your breasts. You moan and shiver as the leaking head of his cock pushes hard against your entrance, your clit rubbing deliciously against the base. He teases the both of you, pressing until his head’s almost inside, and then pulling away again until you’re panting, hips straining uselessly against his firm hold. 

“Steven please,” you whine his name pathetically. “I-I want to cum—!” Steven nods at you, his face the perfect picture of understanding. 

“I know, Sweetheart. I know you do. A-and you’re gonna, I promise. As soon as I think you’re ready, m’gonna let you cum. Can’t force things—he was rather…” He pauses, like he’s searching for the right word. “Rough with you earlier.” You know you should appreciate Steven’s consideration, his mindfulness of the fact that you’d already them lay claim to your body—your shoulder still bears the stinging bite mark the jackal had left on you. Instead, you let out a frustrated whine at his words, attempting to force yourself down onto his cock. Steven clucks his tongue at you, before pausing, and then he chuckles. 

“Marc says we should make you wait extra long for that.” He lifts your hips easily despite your efforts, moving you back and forth across his tip. He lowers you just enough that the head of his cock pops inside, and you mewl, clenching down around him. “But since you feel so fucking good inside, I’m not gonna do that.” 

Steven’s head lolls back against the tile and he thrusts shallowly, teeth sinking into his lip before he pulls you off again. This time, he guides you to the bench before sinking to his knees on the floor of the shower. Steven spreads your legs wide, tugging you to the edge before kissing you. 

“Let me make you feel good,” Steven mumbles against your mouth. “Wanna make you feel good, Love.” He trails wet, sloppy kisses down the side of your jaw and between your breasts, mumbling praises against your wet skin. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” Steven sighs, pressing another to the skin above your cunt. “So perfect.” You whine as he peels your thighs apart, tossing your legs over his shoulders. 

“You don’t have to be quiet anymore, Love,” he says, glorying in the shrill whine you loose as he drags his finger through your folds. “So let’t hear it.” Where Jake and Marc are hungry, eager, Steven is diligent. Methodical. He sucks on your clit, working his tongue against it with slow, deep strokes that leave you gasping, your thighs clenching around his curly head. 

“God, fuck, Steven,” sentences are a chore to form, so single words have to suffice as you tangle your fingers in his hair just as his own circle your entrance deliciously. Your hips undulate against his face, your eyes closed. The orgasm takes you by surprise, your thighs trembling as pleas, praise and curses all fall  from your lips in equal measure, and you aren’t sure which ones you mean. 

“Fuck, yes Steven, feels so good, fuck-fuck-fuck, please—” You’re a simpering, weak-limbed mess when he finally releases you, your legs like jelly. It takes little maneuvering to get you back into his lap again, and this time, Steven wastes no time. He positions you above his cock before dropping you down, letting gravity help him fill you. It punches the air from your lungs in a sharp exhale. 

You can barely focus on breathing though, not when he feels like this inside of you. The fullness is delicious, leaving you gasping when he repeats the motion, lifting you until his head’s almost out, and then dropping you back down again, but still desperate for more. More that Steven wants to give you, more that you don’t know you can take, but that you’re more than willing to try. Your cup runneth-the-fuck-over with pleasure, throbbing on every nerve ending, choking out every other thought. 

“Oh, Love,” he groans, rolling his hips into yours. “There it is.” Steven’s hips buck against yours; short, teasing thrusts that stimulate, but don’t fulfill. Finally, he sheathes himself in you to the hilt, his hips bucking softly against you like he’s looking for more space inside where there is none. The mark from where they’d bitten you as the jackal is still there, humming with power. Steven laves his tongue against it, moaning, savoring the coppery taste of your blood on his tongue. 

“God,” Steven gasps against your skin, holding you close and tight, curving his hips up into yours with increasingly desperate thrusts. “F-fuck, you’ve no idea—” You’re not sure if he’s sputtering out a response to Marc or Jake, but you don’t really have the spare capacity to consider it. Not when Steven is whispering feverish praise and promises into the curve of your throat, and then making good on them with every thrust. 

“Feels s-so good , fuck, want you to cum on my cock—!” He’s almost as bad as you, mumbling possessive nonsense as he slots his teeth into the marks the beast left behind. Briefly it occurs to you that he shouldn’t be able to, but then Steven grinds his thumb against your clit and the electricity of it makes you think pointedly of other things. Like the way his body feels against yours, and you’re close, so fucking close—Your knees tighten around his hips, digging into his sides but he doesn’t seem to notice, or care. 

With a whine and a shudder, you go boneless in Steven’s arms, your eyes rolling as the fireworks become bombs, become supernovas, and your cunt clamps down around his throbbing cock like a slick, wet fist. Steven kisses you, and you taste your own blood on his lips as he slams you back down, holding your hips still and in place as he cums too. 

“Mmm, yeah, mmmfuck,” his head is leaned back against the tile, curls plastered against his skull from the water. Steven stares unseeingly at the shower head above you, holding you tucked against his chest as he fills you. You rest your head against his chest, your own heaving. 

Steven finally releases his death grip on your hips in favor of drawing shapes against the skin of your back. You’re not eager to move and neither is he, keeping you caged comfortably against his chest. There are scars here too, old ones, healed over and almost gone, new ones, fresh, pink wounds you know will leave still more. 

You catalogue them, listing each one as your fingers travel across his skin. Chest. Stomach. Forearm. You don’t even realize you’re doing it, not really, not until you feel Steven’s lips curve against your hair. 

“What’re you doing, Love?” 

What am I doing?

You remain silent and thoughtful as Steven helps you off of him, murmuring assent when he asks if he can clean you off. It’s not until you’re getting out of the shower, watching him toweling off, counting the scars on his back—that you realize. 

“I’m cataloguing.” You say, laying a hand on his back. Steven jumps. 

“What?” 

“I’m counting them. Your scars.” You lick your lips. You know you can’t take them away, you can’t erase them—but you can avenge them. Loki’s network is vast—your lips curl into a small smile. Was vast. Now it is rudderless, a snake without a head. You will dispose of the rest of it. The dark fury in your head feels righteous, and when your eyes meet Steven’s, they are bright with the same. 

“I want to pay them back.” 

fin

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[harveyverse]

the outsiders into the spiderverse au!!!!! lesgo!!!

ponyboy is miles morales. literally. like are you kidding me??? (AND LOOK AT THE GREAT EXPECTATIONS REFERENCES IN THE MOVIE?? COINCIDENCE?? I DONT THINK SO!! this was meant to be. this au was meant to be made)

dally is uncle aaron!! the dynamic between miles’ dad & aaron reminds me sm of the dynamic between darry & dallas!!!

and ofc the dynamic between miles & aaron/pony & dally. pony sneaking out to go see dally bc he looks up to him!! dally giving pony advice on how to talk to girls!! (and the heart crushing revelation when pony finds out dally is the prowler 😭)

and dally’s death is a canon event fr lmao

then ofc, cherry is gwen!! like, their dynamic?? pony trying to be cool bc he has a little crush on cherry but embarrassing himself in the process??? bc of the advice that dally gave him?? just. yes.

on that note, randy was gwen’s peter parker!! they were besties but we know how that ended 😭 (sorry randy

darry as jefferson morales aka Miles’ dad!! there is no rio jefferson in this au and soda isn’t going to be a part of the jefferson family (at least not until later. you’ll see)

darry and pony’s relationship is rocky anyways and then pony turns into spiderman and all of that parallel universe shit happens that pony can’t talk to darry about, which causes them to drift even further apart. because 1) darry is very much and very openly anti-spiderman and 2) there isn’t a soda (yet!!) as the heart of the family who helps them bond or anything

LMK IF YOU FIND THIS INTERESTING BC I HAVE A LOT MORE THOUGHTS ON THIS!!

i am SO gonna draw this >:D

[melmedardasworld]

Bonnie would be the only actual one on the show with a strong and good enemies to lovers storyline no matter who you pair her with (Jeremy excluded).

She can fight against them (most being supernatural themselves) on equal footing, and she wouldn’t make ten million excuses for her s/o's ass not even if they were in the lover stage. Granted, she would make (some) allowances as we saw her do once she fully accepted the Salvatores (mainly when she became besties with Damon) on her end. I have my grip on how that was handled because the writers really suck with relationships and pushing certain dynamics whether platonically or romantically (for all the girls, btw).

But as the seasons progressed, Bonnie got more colder and self preserving because of her experiences. So the whole 'Bonnie is too moral', 'Bonnie would never', 'They hurt her...', doesn't hold as much. At least, it doesn't until she finally accepts them in her circle of loved ones.

I mean, she says it herself.

Bonus: Look at Enzo's jealous ass when he talks about Bonnie having Damon's back.

She calls him out, and Enzo's yeah, keep on yapping, but I want that from someone too. Sidenote: Bonnie bringing up family so fiercely like that, I know it hurt her deep down too because her parents just... existed in her life.

Though it takes a while for her to warm up, that fits the enemies to lovers' slow burn.

Lmao, my girl can be petty and nasty if you get on her wrong side and hurt her friends and family. Bonnie won't hesitate to tell them off and beat their ass into submission (and most of them lowkey loved it and became obsessed with her).

Anyway, the TVD writers can not write proper enemies to a lovers' and while they tried to do it with other ships, it was far from what I personally classify it as. They also didn't take the time to develop stuff when it came to Bonnie. It was usually half assed or came out of the blue (see the Twitter receipts and interviews about her canon relationships if you do not believe me).

[crazylittlejester]

Sooo, I know that you are technically the “Wars expert”, but you are really good at predicting things that will happen the LU comics.

I keep thinking that Twilight is getting more and more fed up with everyone treating him like he’s made of glass. What do you think, how long will it take until he snaps at someone for being overprotective? And who will it be? ( my guess is that it’ll be either Wars or Time and that it won’t be long 😉)

okay pardon the fact that my brain is soup rn my head is pounding lmao, none of this is gonna be coherent and most of it is off topic rambling i dont think a word of this makes sense-

I don’t really think the others are treating Twi like glass, at least not now

so in my mind i separate the group a bit into “kids” (wind, four, hyrule, legend, wild) and “adults” (time, wars, twi, sky). Now I think the only thing canonically established in LU is that Wind is the youngest and Time is the oldest, so the rest of the group hierarchy can go literally whichever way you interpret it, but I definitely think of Wars and Twi as pretty close up there to Time in regards to how much “power” (for lack of a better word-) they have within the group. They’re the only two who feel like they have the power to “talk back” (again for lack of better words) to Time in a way where Time might actually LISTEN. I feel like it’s not that the others are treating Twilight like glass, they’re worried about him because he almost died, but they have faith in him. But Time on the other hand has to look at Twilight and see his own future with Malon and all that, and based off the conversation in “Malon 5” it seems like Time might feel at least a little bit responsible for keeping Twilight safe and uninjured. But despite this I think that hasn’t impacted his view of Twilight’s capabilities, like yes he might keep more of an eye out for him, but he knows Twilight can handle himself

The new added element to this whole situation is Warriors and “Wild’s” dungeon inexperience. Because now Time, unofficial official leader, has his two “second” in commands as “Guy who has never stepped foot in a dungeon before in his life” and “Descendant who almost died”, and as we’ve seen he’s been really stressed lately and this is just adding to it. Which, yeah, I would be stressed too 😭

My theory isn’t necessarily that Twi is going to snap because he’s being babied, but rather if we DO see him getting snappy at people (Time) it’s going to be because of how strict he’s getting

That being said I have theories about the breakdowns of the groups, and I’m not sure I see a scenario in which Twi, Time, and Wars would be in the same group. MAYBE two of them, but I can’t imagine all three of them would be in the same spot. If they are tho, that’s be hilarious and the fucking DRAMA- oh my god

I think if Warriors WASN’T with Time, he’d be with either Twi or Legend, but not both, and I think the third person could be Wind. If I were the one building these groups, I’d make it Wars, Legend, and Wind

If Time WASN’T with Twi, he’d be with Wars, and if not Wars then I think Four and/or Hyrule. High Stress Adult + two experienced but very chill “kids”. They’d have their differences in how they do things, but I think those three would work well together. But if Jojo’s feeling evil I think Time, Wild, and Legend would be an EXPLOSIVE group of clashing personalities and all three of them would argue the entire time because they’re all very stubborn. I think poor Wild would really get the short end of the stick in that scenario-

I predict, if these groups are gonna be 3 groups of 3 and the goal is to create well balanced teams:

Twilight, Sky, and Wild would be a POWERHOUSE: two adults + one “kid” with ‘half’ dungeon experience. They’d get along well, they’d work well together

Time, Four, and Hyrule: Again, High Stress Adult + two quieter “kids”, but I really think Hyrule and Four would work well together, and they’d balance out Time’s stress with their goofy little guy-ness

Wars, Legend, and Wind: It’s giving a mom taking her two kids to indulge in their hyperfixation she knows nothing about. Wind and Legend are totally capable in a dungeon, and they both have a good dynamic with Wars that could be very entertaining and funny, and definitely just enjoyable to witness

but the evil voices in me want the groups to be Wars/Time/Twi, Legend/Hyrule/Wild, Sky/Four/Wind, because I’m just imagining Drama Queens (crying, screaming, emotions involved), Triple Threat (pure crack), and The People Actually Getting Shit Done, and that would be so epic

aight thats all i got

*falls over and dies*

[oceanwithouthermoon]

i feel like im obligated to remind everyone that the time we see the characters spend with saiki on screen isnt the ONLY time they spend together,,, i just see a lot of people take their screen time very literally and assume that this is the case despite it being heavily implied that it isnt, and im not entirely sure why but i can guess that it may be because of the assumption that saiki genuinely hates his friends (i do also see people doing this with specific characters they dont like or that they have a specific agenda for, which i think is them being like "i feel a certain way about them, therefore saiki the narrator who gave me all the information that made me feel this way about them must not like them" which i dont really have a problem with (its just an hc) until they start arguing with people that their hc is the only right answer and saiki canonically hates that person or is only around them when forced to be LOL)

yumehara and teruhashi immediately recognize "kurikos" eating manner as saikis despite us never seeing him eat in front of them, kaido + nendo + kuboyasu bribe saiki for his homework with coffee jelly because they know hes obsessed with it despite us seeing no on-screen reason for them to know that (we do see a bit later that he walks home with them every day and he stares at coffee jelly every single time though LOL), and mera talks about saiki spending a lot of money at her workplace despite us only seeing her and him there at the same time once before..

saiki does not succeed at avoiding them, and in fact is probably not even trying to most of the time LMAO he loves those idiots. dearly.

the people i see the least true implications of him spending off-screen time with are actually, weirdly enough, the other two psychics. this doesnt necessarily mean to take that at face value and assume he DOESNT spend as much time with them, but its interesting i feel... please correct me if im wrong though cuz i would love to see more examples of these kinds of implications, for any characters actually!

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

i want to say something thats been bugging me for a while but there was this whole argument about katara and zuko being FUNDAMENTAL in each other's character arc and that baffled me because its simply not true? you can say they play an important role but to say they are fundamental is over exaggerating it. as fundamental at least to me inherently implies they are the foundation for each others arcs. like it got me sooo confused because i in no way see how zuko plays such a role for katara and same with zuko. because did we just forget that uncle iroh is the one thats actually fundamental to zuko? i feel like i never see him get talked about by these "zuko fans" unless its from a book with like one or two short sentences thats very clearly uncle iroh being a stereotypical dad and being like "oh a nice girl maybe good for zuko?" as if he wasn't pushing zuko to bring home a girl and getting him to go on a date with that girl in ba sing se idk to me it reads off as a parent thats just yappin lol

regardless of that though, im still baffled by that. katara isnt fundamental to zuko's character arc, uncle iroh is. zuko isnt fundamental to katara's character arc, her mother is (and i'd argue aang but i feel like that would just cause a shipping mess by even breathing his name lmao) anyways sorry but that still gets me to this day because how utterly confusing i found it. no one was even saying that they didn't play an important (role along with the other characters in the gaang) in each others arcs, it was saying they simply are not fundamental and that, for some reason, made them so mad lol

I'm sorry, anon, but I am saying they were not important to each other's character arcs, and this is taking into account my bias as someone who really likes their friendship. If a character is not around for someone's arc, or on their mind during it, they're not relevant to said arc.

Katara canonically saw him as nothing but the generic face for evil Fire Nation people until their talk in Ba Sing Se - only to then immediately regret her moment of empathy towards him and never mention him again. And as I've already said, that moment meant so little to Zuko that he couldn't even understand why Katara was mad.

They don't start interacting for real until Zuko the second of half of the final season, and they're not friends until the show is TWO EPISODES AWAY from the finale.

In The Southern Raiders, Zuko is basically the guy driving the taxi so Katara goes on her revenge quest. This doesn't hold a candle to the three seasons she spent being supported by the Gaang (or two in Toph's case), always thinking about her family, mainly her mom.

In the Last Agni Kai, Katara is just there to take action when it's time to shout MEDIC! This doesn't hold a candle to Ozai and Azula's shadow constantly hanging over him, Iroh's advice, the memory of his mother, his relationship with Mai, and the simple "Maybe we could have been friends" from Aang that was canonically haunting Zuko for months because it got to him that much.

Now, do I think it's possible, and very likely, that they will be very important in each other's lives from that point onwards? Of course! They ARE friends now, and if someone is in your life they're gonna play some kind of role when you're going through stuff. It's only natural.

But in the actual canon events? No, they were not important to each other's arc. They didn't have the opportunity to be - and that is part of why I wish the show had 4 seasons instead of 3, or that the comics had not sucked. It would've been so nice to see Aang not be the only member of the Gaang that plays a major role in Zuko's arc, and vice versa (especially with Toph, not only because I love their friendship but because she was denied a life-changing field trip).

[icarusredwings]

A fic written by @monkepenguin

A review of chapter 1 and 2 by me- Hi. With commentary 👌

It's 23k and still going. There are typos, but this person isn't a native speaker of English (aren't the best fics always like that?)

Spoilers:

Wade - it has been a whole 5 seconds. Shut up. Please. Like what the fuck are you even talking about. Why are you saying these things in public?

If I dont read 200 words in and think "what the actual fuck" Am I even reading deadpool? No.

Imagine your room mate is gone for 3 days, shows up, pronounces himself as "Marvel jesus" what ever that is- and now you have 2 more mouths to feed.

Al is way more chill than we give her credit for. She's a pretty chill for a cokehead. (Dont do drugs kids)

"That's future Logans problem." Ah yes, very Wolverine thing to think.

D'awww. See kids when you take care of your logan properly they are happy and clean. Now he needs fed and some TLC and you will have your very own loyal Logan :)

Instinctively kicking dogs is so on brand.

Careful wolvie, you're gonna get a yeast infection.

"It screams liver cancer" says the one jealous of the fact he has cancer

On yes the truama jokes. Poor guy.

At least he's admitting that he knows joking about it isn't good for him, but he doesn't anyway :D

Snappy logan is the best logan.

Ohh baby boy no- no more bar rotting for you. Banned.

You tell'em al! Loud fucks.

Bruuhhh.

Logan: *starts opening up*

Wade: Excuse me? Im the main charater *SLAPS HIM*

Wade: *opens up*

Al really was like "are you guys gonna fuck or fight?" And instead they sobbed together on the roof 😌

Fred you trooper. You go get that old lady.

Oh god not the "Were literally the same people in different fonts" moment 😩

"Wade was actually a good guy just extremely unhinged and horny" Yeaaahhh it's probably a response from scout master kevin- Or the fact that you get dopamine and oxytocin during sex and a lot of people with adhd can easily be addicted to those things. Im suprised he doesn't have a thing for gambling with something other then his life.

"I mean actual coke" "Ahh-" yeah sums those two up.

Wait until al finds out about slippers LMAO. Chalancla him grannie!

Oh my god hes gonna buy a fucking honda odyssey

"OH NO HES HOT"

"Al, my condolences to you for not being able to see this man." FAAACCTSS, im so glad someone else brought this up. Shed be all over him. You know it.

(Logans the type to walk past a diner and get rawred at and giggled by a bunch of old grandma's so much that it gets to the point that he goes "Evening ma'am" to them so they'd stop cat calling him.

Also, WHO RAISED THIS MAN!? Charles!! Charles, this is a god damn gentleman over here! I know damn well it wasn't your father Logan! Was it Jean? Did Jean slap manners into you?)

Aaahh dont give puppins the sex leash noooo (totally canon)

Bro why is wade actually so domestic? Dude is like "Hi! Your life is ruined? Cool! My life is ruined! Lets go comit insurance fraud and buy the exact same car I fucked you in. Now lets go pumpkin. Onward!! To the dealership!"

[imaginatorofthings]

more info on the submas twins since there is no way i’m going to turn down an opportunity to talk about them:

other ask was right about them not being super popular in the west until Legends Arceus; they had their fans but they really got attention here in 2022 bc of the angst of the two of them being separated. Ingo did indeed get sent back in time and space to Hisui (the setting of Legends Arceus, which is Sinnoh like ~200 yrs in the past) and also has amnesia, so that’s double angst. we don’t know where Emmet is or what he’s doing at this time in canon so it’s all speculation how he’s responding.

common misconception with the Battle Subway- Double battles are not Multi battles. Ingo runs Single battles (fight with one pokemon at a time), Emmet runs Double battles (fight with two pokemon at a time), and they both run Multi battles (fight with two people with one pokemon each). they are canonically verrry strong trainers which is pointed out in the anime and Pokemon Masters EX too. they mostly share pokemon between themselves, but as a general rule Chandelure is Ingo’s ace pokemon and Eelektross is Emmet’s.

something that makes them particularly appealing (imo) is that they have like, a contrasting shtick going on. Ingo wears black, Emmet wears white. Ingo frowns, Emmet smiles. Ingo is loud and uses flowery speech, Emmet is quieter and more to-the-point. Emmet is expressive with his gestures and Ingo with his voice. etc

Elesa and the twins have been paired as friends because they’re the strongest trainers in Nimbasa and public figures so it stands to reason they would run in the same circles, but they don’t really seem know each other closely in canon (idrc though it’s cute and fun). Elesa and Skyla are canonically friends though so that’s why Skyla is often included too.

i think i’ll stop there before i start having to MLA format this essay lmao

No no, go ahead and format this essay to be readable, hahah! /lh

I'm reading the separation angst and going "What the what goes on in Pokemon?" I'm still a bit confused towards the reasons for that. but at least that explains the angst?

And the contrasts between the twins are sort of what drew me in as well! And the canon friendship between Elesa and Skyla explains why Skyla is included in the Nimbasa Trio, I see!

[iknowshocker]

Anon from the last question here 🙋‍♀️ LOVED your answer and love a good Kai psychoanalysis 🙌

You mentioned it’s hc that 1994 Kai is virgin!kai, which got me thinking… did he ever really have any romantic or physical experiences? (Legacies Kai never happened in my mind 🥲)

And kind of on the same note, what do you think life was like for him when he was 18-22? It’s hc for me that he was homeschooled, but we don’t really know anything from the time he turned 18 until he was sent to a prison world

omg hi!! thank you for the question i've been having so much fun answering! i should have made a place to talk about my boy sooner, i could yap about him all day 😂

(oh man legacies kai my deeply insane beloved) he's really cracked out in those episodes but there are a few little moments where he feels like himself that i hold onto lol i just wish they hadn't put in his fling with the immortal teenager like he was 👉🏼👈🏼 close to being the only man to make it out of the TVDu without an inappropriate relationship i know there's an age gap with bonnie but it's simply not the same imo

okay here we go 18-22 kai:

so i assume, in the most affectionate way possible, that he gave off major JD from the heathers vibes. (the black cargo pants with the heavy ass combat boots?? he's a scary boy and he knows it lmao)

that age of young adulthood is such a volatile time, but for kai his resentments are growing, it's getting closer and closer to the merge, and if he can just wait it out a little longer everything is finally going to change. so lots of pent up energy, studying like crazy, in general running himself into the ground to insure everything goes the way he desperately needs it to. this also explains why he built up to such a violent snap. it's the one thing he's been holding on to, he was literally born for it, and then they still take it away.

those stupid christmas sweater photos make me think that everyone was living at home up until may 10th. unlike liv/luke i think joshua kept jo/kai close because he felt he needed to watch kai. i've always found it interesting that Jo goes into the medical field but Kai has the anatomy knowledge to cut out her spleen correctly lmao i hc they both had an interest in medicine, with him looking for a cure probably and jo maybe helping him at least at first. crazy to think that they probably would have still become a dr regardless of which one of them won the og merge!

anyway yes i think they were stuck living at home, with kai basically being held hostage and Jo being forced into a caretaker role since their mother died giving birth to the baby twins. (that's not like fully confirmed but the timeline works out so to me it's basically canon lol)

i mentioned kai having PTSD centered on touch and i think that would make any sort of social stuff hard for him. he's been taught to think he's dangerous and he's not been given any tools to keep from being that way. i hc most of his knowledge of his power came from trial and error, because joshua was like "alright no magic for you keep that in check demon spawn" from the time it manifested. (listen i could write dissertations on how despicable it is that they KNEW about gemini siphons and just refused to find ways to help him) that sort of fear/mistrust over his own abilities starting at such a young age would be totally crippling.

i read a fic once where he sleep siphoned Jo when they were young and nearly killed her during a nightmare. i could absolutely see things like that happening, and it leaving him terrified to do it again. but then his sociopathy developing would give him the ability to lash out without worrying about the guilt of his actions. but just because he doesn't let himself feel guilty doesn't mean he doesn't know what he did was wrong. i can imagine it would be so conflicting to need magic to work/feel normal but the only way to get it is to hurt the only people around you day to day. just a nightmare all around.

(have you seen the deleted scene with Jo/Kai? because that monologue from him lives rent free in my mind. the panicked breathing, the sad eyes, the desperation in his tone !! i just can't handle it lmao they 100% cut it because leaving it in and still killing him would have caused riots in the streets)

being homeschooled would limit the entire family's outside interactions, but i imagine they usually left kai at the house when they went out to the shops/coven gatherings/general outings. he does have basic people skills when we meet him so it's not like he's 100% ostracized but i do think a lot of his personality is him mimicking things he's seen in movies/mirroring the people around him in a given moment. he's faking it based off of what he thinks would be correct and when he gets it wrong you can see him deflate.

if he was allowed to go out growing up, i think he probably stuck to Jo and let her do the talking. so when she started pulling away from him too and he didn't have a buffer, it was probably easier to just stay home instead of risking it on his own.

i'm a person who hears his version of "they isolated me" and Jos "our parents saw him pulling away, isolating himself" and lands somewhere in the middle. i think they had rules over him not touching anyone/made it very clear he couldn't be trusted and that left kai feeling like "okay well f you guys i'll just go back to my room" it was just easier for him to go ahead and leave instead of let them bully him into leaving.

like he's the oldest, but do we think the other siblings listened to him ?? nah, man, there's simply no way. by the time they reached 22, no one in the house but liv/luke showed much interest in him. and he had to know that the older they got, they'd grow to believe joshua/fear him too. that had to be freaking exhausting, not to mention hurtful as hell.

(i mean... "When your family decides that you are nothing but an irredeemable piece of trash, well…I guess the best thing to do is prove them right, right?” like by the time we get to the red wedding, they broke him. there's no more second chances or trying again or believing they'll change. he's done. but he had to get pushed to that point and i think it was building his entire life.)

i hc as the oldest Jo/Kai shared a car, but to be so honest i always assumed he taught himself how to drive (fast lol) in the prison world. i would love to believe they snuck out to concerts together or had little adventures growing up but i think Jo turned on him somewhere around the time she realized she wasn't going to be allowed to go off to college. she would have had her own resentments around being stuck with him because of him, and so i don't see them having much of a relationship past the age of like 16.

to circle back to romantic relationships, i just don't think kai ever had an opportunity to be close enough to anyone for anything to happen romantically or even platonically pre prison world.

that's why bonnie showing up is such a big deal. she's this beautiful, funny, smart witch and she's just suddenly !! in his world !! the fact that he can't help getting close to her means everything to me. there's something about her/her magic that just tugs him in. "yeah but i wanted to feel your hand on my chest" come ON once you know the implications of that statement how do people not melt. babes is so touch starved he's dying for anyyyyoneeee to love on him.

bonkai sidenote: im a firm believer that grams was playing matchmaker. i hc she knew kai growing up and tried to help him when she could, which is why they went the prison world route instead of simply getting rid of him. without a bennett to bind the spell it wouldn't have been possible, so she agreed to keep something else from happening to him. she literally tells bonnie she gave up her peace so that bonnie could find hers, knowing 100% she was sending her to a world where kai was waiting/he couldn't be killed/and they would have to work together to escape. even more than that, damon wasn't supposed to go !!! so grams knew they'd be alone and either assumed bonnie could handle him or believed there was enough good in kai that it wouldn't go badly for bonnie or both lol we know from the jump that grams adores bonnie, there's not a chance in hell she would have sent her there if she thought for a second kai would hurt her. i just don't think she realized how sick he would become on his own, and adding damon into the mix changes the dynamics because kai is trying to come off stronger than he is.

yikes sorry i dont know how to discuss him without discussing bonnie 🙈

again thank you for your ask!!

[fruity-phrog]

Dead End Paranormal Park shit I need to talk about and I feel bad for my discord server so:

I was expecting a Barney/Logs kiss to be monumental like the first Lumity or Catradora kiss, or at least something like Troyson or Bubbline. But NOOO, I just get SLAPPED IN THE FACE with it right at the beginning of the first episode.

And on the subject, I distinctly remember thinking “I wonder if they’ll have Barney tell Logs he loves them or smth” as I clicked on the second episode. I WAS NOT PREPARED.

Logs is a non-binary gay person. Don’t even fight me on this I’m right.

I was. So. Fucking. Excited. Watching Norma realize her crush on Badyah. It was literally exactly how I realized my crush on my friend and I was so excited to have those two canon.

I was fucking wrong.

Barney talking about transphobia?! Barney talking about people asking about his binder?! THIS SHOW FUCKIN RULES.

Again, I was very wrong about Badyah and Norma.

Badyah rejecting Norma hurt. So fucking much. The rawness of it all just stung so much.

BUT. I HAVE NEVER HEARD ANYONE SAY THE WORDS “I’m straight” IN A KIDS’ CARTOON. It was astronomical. In shows nowadays, queer rep is so far and few between you don’t have any characters to get rejected. So to see Badyah let down Norma as softly as she did, explaining she’s straight then immediately going into a mini sexuality crisis was amazing. Norma’s tears though. 

Gonna be honest, was worried about the Josh thing for a minute.

Honestly, I wouldn’t even mind Norma x Zagan. I mean, Zagan’s canonically queer, and I can get behind a good height-difference ship. Also, I love the dynamic of “Morally grey but with a heart of gold x literal demon” Buuuuut Zagan being like 1600 comes with its Twilightes-esque issues.

Not Temeluchus and Pugsely acting like exes that still love each other lmao

Norma regretting everything when her connection to Badyah was lost just hit me in the worst way. The exact same thing happened to me about a year ago - I had a straight crush who was also my best friend, I told her I liked her and we...drifted apart. Everything about Norma's regret from the whole thing is so perfectly written, from her staring at photos of her and Badyah to insisting she's over the crush to being so incredibly excited when she thinks Badyah has come round to her house. I've never been able to relate to a character this much before, and adding on to the fact that Norma has social anxiety and can fixate on one thing until it becomes her entire personality...it just hit me so hard.

Am I still allowed to ship Norma and Badyah? They just meant so much to me before that episode. Is it problematic now? Coz it’s either that or aroace hetero-leaning Badyah. 

That whole episode though

The use of the word bi? An entire conversation about how hard it is to come out? The use of the word gay? Norma literally chanting “bi bi bi” like NSWNC?! Screaming, crying.

No, Pauline’s right, Norma’s mum has the best legs.

The coming out scene...shoot me now.

EVEN THE MUM SHIPPED BADYAH AND NORMA-

JULES USING THEY/THEM PRONOUNS. AND SAYING “I use they/them pronouns”. THE GAY IS REAL AND IT IS COMING FOR US.

Not Barney being saved by the power of gay 

I called Courtney being an angel from early s1. Suck it.

THE WATCHER THING I DID NOT CALL.

But we all knew Fingers had issues. I mean seriously. The dude’s got slay though.

Last thing - Gord means the absolute world to me.

[babiebom]

apologies for my absence- holiday periods are tiring lmao how were they for you? unfortunately we have yet to watch the fnaf movie, as our group is one that is exceedingly difficult to make plans around because we're all busy 💀 but then there's the one guy who doesn't want to leave his house lmao luckily, iv'e been pretty good at staying away from spoilers, so i've got that going for me. on the other hand, i'm planning to go see Trolls 3, and my mother and sister recently went to see the new Wonka movie. Though from what i've heard from a friend, Wonka's no good :// Yeahhh, if i actually commit to the mod, i'd have to learn pixel art and reteach myself code and programming 😭... i used to be somewhat decent at it. oooo yes i love a good choose your own adventure! they're so much fun and i've actually coded 1 of my own :,) it was through Visual Basics though, so the formatting was a bit weird for me lmao if you're going for a visual novel type of look and playability, I'd probably recommend Unity or itch.io? in my experience, Unity is probably easier to use.. theres another website/app i used but i can't recall the name sadly :( if i do i'll get back to you though! i don't have that much of a detailed request this time, but perhaps some fluff and love languages between rasmodius and the reader? or like hcs of rasmodius's evolving interest/thoughts arund the reader before finally getting together? i'd perhaps request nsfw/smut stuff too but tbh i just don't have any ideas 💛 tysmm :D -🔮

A/N: I’m glad you’re okay!! Honestly I’ve been sick these past couple of weeks (I caught pneumonia and had it for a month before going to the hospital. I thought it was a cold oopsies) I haven’t watched anything new recently but I am watching the third season of singles inferno with some friends. And I guess until I can figure out how to make a visual novel I have to write the fic out lmao sucks for me because I think a game would be better but oh well. What can I do? And like always I’ll try to do both!! Check back for the second one!!

Tw: cursing, slight nsfw but no full on smut. Let me know if there’s something I missed!!

Wc: I have no idea! But these are headcanons so 10+ is the goal!!

Sdv Masterlist

Okay so there are five main types of love languages.

Physical touch, Words of Affirmation, Receiving Gifts, Acts of Service, and Quality Time.

I would also like anyone reading this to remember that these love languages are how you want to be loved/receive love not how you show love to others.

I do think that Rasmodius is very connected to himself

And by that I mean I think he knows himself very well, or at least he thinks he knows himself very well.

And for a long time I think he probably thought that Quality Time and Physical Touch were his main two love languages.

I mean idk if it’s canon but in my opinion I do think he cheated on the witch with Caroline

And I’m not gonna go into it here because this isn’t about them, but I think it might’ve had to do with that and his own struggles with temptations.

And I also think gift giving is canon for literally every single character in stardew because that’s the main way to befriend someone.

But I think that after marrying you/beginning to date you he realizes that his actual love language is words of affirmation.

While Physical touch and quality time are still very important to him, being with you makes him see that he really does like being praised.

Like whenever you say that he has done something well, or that you like something he has done his heart flutters as if he were a teenager again.

Especially when it comes to his magic

Like I feel like the townspeople aren’t really fond of him

And they never thank him for the things that he does whenever they actually need him for stuff

Like the haunted maze

Like they’re just talking about how weird he is and how he got it done

But they never stop and say anything that’s positive like WTF

So I think he would appreciate whenever you thank him or praise him and it would go straight to his head (which one idk 👀)

With quality time I feel like you get a lot of it after he moves to the farm

Like unless he’s working in his tower, or you’re off somewhere like in the mines

That you’re like together even if it’s spent in silence

And he loves that

Like he was super lonely before even if he doesn’t want to admit it

So just being in the same room as you counts as quality time for him.

And if you’re doing an activity that’s particularly domestic

He’s in heaven like he doesn’t wanna make it a big deal

But baking and helping you around the farm makes his heart soar.

I think in terms of how he shows love i think he would show it in acts of service and gift giving

Like oh you don’t feel well?

Don’t bother going to the clinic he’s just going to create a potion that stops you from getting sick

You’re afab and you’re having bad cramps during your period?

Consider them gone

Look at this thing he got for you

And while yeah this might seem like either a lot of insincere

In his mind and heart this is how he shows that he appreciates you and wants you to live a good and easy life.

If he can make things easier and less stressful for you

That’s exactly what he’s going to do

He loves you and while he loves receiving attention and love he’s kinda crap at giving it in the same way because he just doesn’t really know how

So this is how he does

He’s VERY romantic sometimes and shows it through gifts and services.

Very cute and a good significant other when you get past his rough exterior.

[earthstellar]

love the canonical implication that Earthspark Bumblebee's current alt-mode is possibly just a mid life crisis sports car phase

I mean I'm in my 30s, I'm not shitting on him, it's relatable primarily because most of my friends are at least slightly younger than I am

the "Bee hanging out with the Terrans" vibe is very real

but I also like that we're seeing a slightly older version of Bee here. usually he's the youngest of the Autobots (in most TF shows, anyway), but here he's roughly equivalent to middle aged

The Terrans are the youngest, so we get to see a more mature Bee stepping up into a carer/educator role

Bee has never really been one of my favourite TF characters (which I mostly attribute to burn out caused by all the marketing which solely fixates on him lmao), but I like him in Earthspark for the most part!

He's still a little on the "still learning" side of things coming into his current role, but that's what allows for further character development, and we've already seen him build some good skills for dealing with/training the kiddo bots

IDK it's nice.

would be interesting if there's ever an episode where Alex and Dot are unavailable for a not-necessarily-bad reason (maybe one of them is accepting a professional award or something so both of them go together as a Nice Thing)

and suddenly Bumblebee is Parent of Many Sparklings (Plus Two Human Ones) for the weekend LMAO

how long until he gives in and calls someone for help? because that is a LOT of children

eventually he calls everyone but they're all busy, Arcee just laughs at him lol she's having Fun Battle Time with Elita-1 so neither of them can do it, finally Megatron shows up and instantly all the kids are like "yeah STORY TIME" and Bee gets a 10 min nap in until a perimeter alarm goes off or something (it was just a cow but now he is Stressed)

Optimus gradually shows up like ha ha! outdoors enrichment for the children is a great idea and Bee is just like "have you ever actually raised sparklings, you had troops but you don't have SPARKLINGS"

meanwhile in the background Hashtag is trying to explain the differences between various social media sites to Megatron, who is trying so hard to pretend like he cares, but is also busy trying to keep at least two of the others from putting their hands a little too deep in his transformation seams so they can climb on him (they just want to be Large)

idk I think a Single Parent Bee episode feat. Grandpa Megatron towards the end at one point would be fun, arguably they did this kind of vibe in the first half of S1 a bit already

but it would be interesting to see how Bumblebee would manage without any other adults for support for like a weekend in its entirety (save for maybe Megs at the end taking pity on him lmao)

there aren't many bots in what seems to be Bumblebee's general age range, except maybe Arcee but she gives the vibe of being a little older than he is, so real talk he'd probably feel a little more isolated and overtaxed than usual :(

but the kiddos would likely pick up on this and they could plot with Megs to try to do something nice for him!!! it would go poorly but that's OK!!!!

just thinkin' out loud

[everythingendsbutcomicsr4ever]

((This originally comes as my response to someone saying that ppl don’t like The Sun and The Star because it’s a middle school book and we were expecting the series to grow along with us.))

Valid point I keep finding BUT I recently read the PJO series again in preparation for TSATS and those books still slap!! They’re so good even tho I’m reading them as an adult even though they're meant for kids. (Also I recently read ToA because of course I’m gonna keep reading Rick’s middle school books until the day I die or they stop coming out lol. And that series while more goofy at points I still really liked) I also read one of Mark Oshiro's other books in prep for this book because I was excited for The Sun and Star to be released and I just COULD NOT get through it 😭 the writing was just giving me the ick and the characters where all kind of samie like that sassy talking wit. Which was a bummer because I liked the premise of the book “Anger is a Gift”, which was about underfunded schools mainly facing ppl of color and immigrants which leads to the school-to-prison pipeline because of the defunct way America funds public schools that keeps the poor poor and the rich getting richer & it was ACAB & had a lot of queer representation & etc. So I thought I’d really like it but I just couldn’t get through it because of the writing and I noticed this same writing style showing up in TSATS. Just because it’s for kids doesn’t excuse it from being bad. Like early Pixar and Studio Ghibli is still so good to watch back again and my 50+ yrs old parents like it. Book examples would be Harry Potter (screw JK Rowling tho fr) & the The Little Prince

Not to bash on ppl who say this is the main reason ppl don’t like the book but it feels like a straw man argument to say that the books not growing with us is the main reason ppl didnt like it. All tho I’m sure ppl have argued this but that is definitely their fault because Rick is staying in middle-grade fiction forever like that’s his thing! Why would ppl expect different 🤣 You think he wants to write a sex scene?! LMAO

(Here’s my review, it’s unhinged and not great because I should be doing productive stuff but am distracted until I can at least write down some of my thoughts on my disappointing experience)

Here are some things I didn’t like about it from a piece of art standpoint:

The pacing was bad

This book was filled with the first thing they teach you about writing which is: SHOW don’t TELL

It made me not ship Solangelo surprisingly like how??! I used to love Solangelo but I think this mainly is because of the collective consciousness of the fandom and because we wanted Nico to find happiness with someone. But if you really look back on their moments canonically from the books Will is a background character (who honestly kind of gaslights Nico by invalidating that ppl treated him differently as a son of Hades and that he didn't feel welcome at camp) and they kind of have a quick meet cute in the last book of The Last Olympian. They get together without us seeing their developing relationship and we now know they’re dating in The Trials of Apollo where we see them briefly in the first book and then more so in the last book. Honestly, this canonically alone doesn’t give me enough information or examples to really know or care about their relationship in comparison to Percy and Annabeth who we get to see develop. So TSATS just kind of felt hollow to me because I’m supposed to believe they’d die for each other but I DONT KNOW THE POWER OF THEIR LOVE?? This could just be a first love fling type thing like I was never shown the depth of their romance just told constantly in the book how much they love each other so it just felt kind of empty and emotionally unsatisfying to me.

Solangelo's relationship has always been in the background and the fans are what really made it cause we love Nico and want him to be happy. So when Will and Nico are fighting in this book all I can think is that this is just their relationship period.

So the reason it made me not like Solangelo was because Tarturus was supposed to bring out the worst in them and strain their relationship but, like, I haven’t really seen much of their relationship so I don’t have a “control group” to base this off of. So Will just seemed rude when he was so mean about Nico’s underworld home and about Nico's darkness which I also didn’t understand wtf he was talking about because Nico has killed just as many monsters as other campers and what else was his darknes based off of. cause he’s emo/goth?? Cause he can raise the dead?? Like guys we’ve discussed this just because a character wears black doesn't automatically make them the bad guy. I honestly thought Will just thought that was hot and they’d have that normie x alt relationship dynamic (that meme of: My hot witch wife. Me doing whatever she wants) I thought THAT was Solangelo not Will constantly trying to bring this light side to him and trying to change him. I agree that Nico needs help w his trauma and PTSD and things like that but this felt like if someone tried to “cure” a goth person, like actually screw you

I thought Will was supposed to look like a normie but be secretly a freak (in a good way lol) / goth interest. Cause this is meee I thought I was like Will as someone who looks like a normie and has a sunny disposition but I have a lot of alt/goth interests and I would let an alt girlie step all over me tbh lol. So does he like Nico for who he is or not?!

This is more in line w what I thought their relationship was like lol:

The flashbacks and forwards I thought were ok even if they took you out of the story a bit but this device is supposed to be used for an IMPORTANT event not just as a way to quickly give context to their relationship and when we got to the scene this was taking place in I was like that’s it?? He what? fell down and is suffering from sun withdrawals and this is the book's big moment to justify jarring flashback scenes?

Mark Oshiro is not a fantasy adventure or horror writer and it shows. Maybe it’s just me but their depiction of Tarturus and the nightmare and the journey were just not up to snuff with good horror and fantasy books I’ve read. (And if your gonna say something about how it’s for kids then I raise you the book series “Goosbumps”) So as a genre in itself, it was just disappointing. It was mainly a relationship guidebook book but I didn’t really like that or feel like it was done well, It felt lectury and also idk if that's the genre middle schoolers really like?? 😅

It had too many references which really dates a book, A lot of professional writers say not to use too much slang or modernreferences (unless you’re trying to make a book expressly about a time period) because it really dates a book and doesn’t make a story feel timeless for future generations if you use too many references (this doesn’t include political novels tho which are very much based in that time when the events happening) Anyways for future writers keep this in mind, you don't need to keep in touch with the youth through urban dictionary you can just write about the emotions of being young or whatever. If you’ve tried to read a comic book aimed at teens from the 50s like I have you’ll realise how funny that is.

(Also the carebear reference that I didn’t even understand and I watched carebear as a kid & Lil Nas video which if this was written for kids that music video feels a bit inappropriate for them 😂 it had a reference both too old and too young for middle schoolers AND how in the world would 1930s born, dropped out of elementary school, can’t use the internet or phones half blood, NICO DI ANGELO know these references???)

The writings giving:

Bad alt representation. (This is my most out-of-pocket opinionated bullet point rant so if you don't agree that’s a-okay :D ) This could be a whole post in itself but although I know ppl joke about Nico as the Emo kid I would really like to get into how Nico is actually, or it would be cool, as having some goth subculture inclinations. And ppl probably think of Trad Goths with the whole makeup and teased hair look but it’s mainly a music-based subculture and/or it just has a different idealogy around the ideas of death and what is deemed beautiful while most ppl see it as ugly. (Like listen to “Gallows Dance” or the Bauhaus's “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” & “The Passion of Lovers”, to name songs off the top of my head) This bullet point is definitely MY OPINION and doesn’t contribute exactly to the book being bad but aren’t those songs the vibe of an underworld kid like Nico?? Embracing the darkness and dancing in graveyard vibes fr!! Anyways most alt subcultures and especially emo are seen as a phase in life that you grow out of and then become normal. This book just really gives the energy of being written by a normie who would be confused by the choices of alt ppl and just doesn’t get it because it’s not their personal interest, which isn’t exactly bad even tho I want more philosophy from Nico on the chillness and acceptance of death (all tho greek mythologies view on the afterlife sucks fr and THAT is a whole other post haha) So this isn’t exactly a problem BUT what gives me the ick is WILL NOT ACCEPTING THESE THINGS LIKE SIR STOP BASHING YOUR BOYFRIENDS LIFE!! Will asking Persephonee, “How do you love someone from the underworld” SHUT UP!! 😤

Will was useless and I know what they were trying to go for but if I had a girlfriend (oh I’m a lesbian btw just in case ppl think I’m going harder on this book more than the other books because I’m homophobic bruh I swear I’m not I’m only disappointed in the art itself, NOT the representation which I actually liked) and if I was super good at fighting and they weren’t, I’m sorry but I wouldn’t take them BECAUSE of my love for them. If they were going to be useless on a mission of such life-threatening danger and importance I WOULD NOT TAKE THEM OUT OF KINDNESS. Like skills in medicine and art and music are great and there’s of course nothing wrong w not being a badass fighter (lmao this is me and most readers) but then DONT GO TO SUPER HELL!!! Especially if you have something that makes you more pathetic than being a normal human in Tarturus, his suffering from no sunlight is out of pocket and just makes the story draggg and makes him seem boring and the story more boring. I know they were trying to go for a fish out of water storyline and roll reversal but I think it wasn’t done well enough and overall hurt the story

Also, I’ve heard ppl talk about how it would have been nice to have a book focus on their relationship while at Camp Half-Blood. Like maybe it takes place pre Jason's death and we can just see them living at camp. It’d be chill and we can actually see them as a couple & It would give the energy of readers wanting to go to camp half-blood again like how everyone wanted to go to Hogwarts. Cause we haven’t seen the camp as a fun home since the very early PJO books ;-; (this is just a fun idea I like and I think would have been more manageable for an author but this is FR my opinion on a fun book idea i’d like to read) ALSO this would have been so nostalgic for the older readers who have been here since middle school gobbling up this universe 😌

I know ppl get mad at ppl making fun of Will for being pathetic in tarturous. As saying he’s a child and no one can be happy and sunny and doing well 24/7 which is valid but that’s not really my argument. I like watching characters put in situations where we watch them bend against what we thought they were when put in a hard situation (the masochist in me lol jkjjk). But this I think didn’t work for me because as I’ve said before he’s mainly a background character at the end of one book thrown together with Nico and we as a fandom have mainly made him up. Also, Tarturus was just not as scary or adventure-filled as like any of the other missions from previous PJO books, It didn’t feel as trauma-inducing as everyone in the series tried to explain it as. (again show not tell from the book) Also, I would have liked to have seen Will cool at least once or one reason for me to like him with Nico but I saw him as pretty bland as a character

The writing style felt bad to me because of the show don’t tell part for example telling as “it made him sad and traumatized” when showing would be, you know, actually showing the scenes and this book just felt like 80% telling what they were feeling instead of letting the reader feel the emotions of the scene for themselves

I think that’s another thing I really didn’t like related to the Show Don't Tell. And another hallmark of bad writing was this book was really telling the audience how to feel instead of allowing the story to be powerful enough to do that for itself. This book follows a trend I’ve seen a lot in TV shows where everything kind of feels like detached irony from being on Twitter where you hear everyone’s opinions so the story is written as a wink and a nod like we know what we’re doing and we know what your thinking and how twitter will react to it. Like it’s hard to describe this trend I’ve mainly seen in TV shows and movies recently which always gives me the ick cause it doesn’t feel funny it feels like I’m in a response piece that is breaking the fourth wall and reminds me that I’m in reality watching or reading something instead of actually feeling like I’m in the story. It’s like pseudo-wittiness or something. Tell me if you guys feel this way about some modern tv shows or books, I can't be alone please 😭!!

The stupid toast scene at the end lol The book is like: Do you get it? Did you get it?? They’re opposites! And they attract!! We did the trope you guys!! Also, the stupid Darth Vader scene to start off the book 💀

This whole book made me cringe where I had to constantly get up walk around and lie on the floor before I could continue, only to constantly repeat the cycle 😅

Anyway, idk how to end this review/rant I just had such strong emotions I had to get out probably because I was so excited for this book to come out for like over a year and got back into PJO for a bit and read some of Mark Oshiro’s books and greek mythology and stuff, so I think it wasn’t just me reading any random bad book it disappointed me more that it was poor quality because I wanted to love it so much.

It did have some actually good parts, the troglodytes were cute … I can’t remember the other stuff but it was there I swear lol! If you enjoyed it I’m happy for you! Don’t let me ruin a book you like, you deserve to feel joy 😘💐

[emblazons]

a post in defense of (a very much alive) S5 Jonathan Byers

under the cut b/c this is more frustrated commentary than strict analysis, and you shouldn't have to read if you don't want to.

I feel like it must have come from the dry spell between seasons, but I have to say it: all of this “Jonathan is gonna die and that means Stancy could happen” stuff lately is not only giving "I just like angst for its own sake," it's lowkey nonsense if you look at it thematically (in context of the Jon/Nancy/Steve madness yes, but especially in context of the Byers family).

—like? Friends.

Given the Duffer’s track record of refusing to fully kill off major characters even when it could have made sense to (cc: Hopper and Max), I don’t think anyone is actually meeting their end, but let’s be SO serious about who is actually likely to get axed: the boy with a mom, brother, step-sister and girlfriend who have been central to every single moment in this show…or the one they've put into a triangle we all thought was over until S4, who they’ve honestly written into a corner, & whose primary drive in four entire seasons was getting a girlfriend and protecting a bunch of teenagers?

I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's just talk Jonathan.

The Duffers (Matt especially) have openly gotten upset at even the notion of Mike dying because "that's depressing" AND "that's Nancy's brother" (showing the familial ties are a HUGE part of what would keep them from ending someone), in addition to them saying they've thought through every imaginable scenario" on who might die—

—and you think its Jonathan whose meeting his end? King of championing "not liking what you don't have to" and the outcasts in all areas from music taste to being queer...after all the Byers have been through and knowing The Duffers write toward championing the outcasts and those who embrace their differences?

That, combined with the fact that the only "evidence" I've ever seen for him potentially dying has been that speech he gave to Will in the SBP somehow being connected to (you guessed it) setting up angst for Will...I'm gonna take a hard and wild educated guess based on the entirety of the rest of the show and say that was literally written so Will could catch a goddamn break, not as a death tag.

The fact that Noah confirmed it wasn't in the Duffer's OG script, was written day of filming + was done because "it was important for people to see will wasn't alone" is evidence enough for that.

Even so, the fact that there are still at least 4 unresolved plots Jonathan is part and privy to makes his death even less likely, because it wouldn't make sense for resolving anything for him to die at all, never mind in the episodes before our supposed timeskip.

Jonathan's messy relationship with Nancy, the fact that he's the only one who actually knows Will is gay, and the fact that he's the only other character who saw & understood the ULTIMATE Chekhov's gun in the form of that painting (on top of also having a longstanding relationship with Mike )should make it clear he isn't going anywhere from a narrative perspective...and I'm not even sure where the idea that he would die popped up, other than fandom warping the canon and projecting onto the plot.

The Duffers have always been clear about not doing things solely for the sake of surprise + not liking things that don't make narrative sense...and Jonathan's death would be both of those things, done solely for shock value.

I just. Be so serious right now. if you want to imagine the weight of Jonathan dying SOLELY for fandom angst DO THAT...but don't pretend like his death in the show wouldn't be the most poorly foreshadowed thing in this entire show, on top of not matching a single theme of the ongoing Stranger Things narrative. ☠️

Put some respect on his name lmao

Bonus: If you really want to talk about character's dying (and not just jump into angst for its own sake): they haven’t given Steve a proper love interest EVER outside of Nancy, made Dustin cry over Eddie instead of staying close to Steve S4, and haven’t ONCE referenced that boy’s family properly more than a few times in passing (and only by Steve himself).

He is the only character who craves normalcy despite this show being about championing the outcast, was supposed to die seasons ago but stayed because Joe Keery was so beloved, and has now been written into a corner where every single person who is central to him (esp Dustin and Robin) either have a new love interest or are worried about something else more than him, which...if you want canonical evidence for a possible death, you're looking in the wrong corner of this love triangle.