#I also forgot about this place for a decade so there’s that.

[rexchanna]

Look I did a thing!

It only took me 16 years. A child born the day I made this blog could drive a car by now.

[skyburger]

WHAT THE HELL NOBODY EVER TOLD ME TWO OF MY FAVE VILLAGERS GOT A LINE STICKER TOGETHER. ive loved tabby for YEARS like since 2019 at LEAST. and these stickers are from 2018 how did i not know !!! i love tabby and boots so much 😭😭😭 TABBY AND BOOTS ANIMAL CROSSING I LOVE YOU SO MUCHHHHH OOMFS FOREVER AND EVER

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi!

If you’re still doing these asks, do you mind maybe adding a part 5 to Passion for Fashion?

I would love to see how Danny and Red Robin’s impromptu date goes and Constantine’s reaction to all this.

And poor Killer Croc is so confused and uncomfortable around the twins, oh and not to forget Dan’s inner turmoil over losing a love interest because his body no longer matches his mental and spiritual age😂

I’d also love to see the reactions of the rest of the Batfam to Tim going on a date and their reaction to Dan’s flirting with Croc.

Your request came in after I had already written most of Part 5, but I hope I can include most of what you asked for in it and make it up with another Part of the Au for you.

Danny strutted down the runway, fighting to keep his gaze straight ahead as various flashes from cameras went off.

He mentally went through his checklist of proper catwalk tips that he watched the other day—or, more accurately, Dan forced him to watch from some free video website—ensuring his hands were relaxed, long strides were made, and his shoulders were firm but not stiff.

This was the contest's second round, with Tim Drake proposing the "Gotham Aesthetic" as the theme and challenge. Apparently, the teenage CEO spent most of his childhood taking photos of the city and wanted others to appreciate the architecture of the aged town.

There was no kidnapping attempt this time, and the contest was back on schedule. However, there was a delay because some of the models had dropped out after they were nearly sold (Dan called them cowards, but Danny personally thought they were wise to do so). Hence, fashion designers had to scramble for someone new or forfeit their position in the contest, allowing some eliminated to take their place.

It took nearly four weeks to confirm that the same designers were staying but would need to remake or adjust their outfits. Thankfully, Wayne Amature Fashion Show was more than willing to offer them time.

Dan had already made Danny's outfit but figured he would remake it anyway. Once completed, new designs were crafted, adjusted, and flung into an idea box. He created so many it was as if Dan were a man possessed (Pun intended).

Danny needed to figure out how much fabric he was going through, but sometimes, he had to remind the other to sleep, eat, and shower. It seemed the other kept forgetting he was human now and needed to do these things for his health and Danny's poor nose.

Dan also seemed obsessed with exploring new parts of Gotham just to take pictures of buildings to get "inspiration." Danny went with him as he had nothing better to do, and the pair made an unlikely duo.

Both got stares in the streets—Danny for strutting around Gotham wearing some of Dan's regretted challenge outfits in an effort to learn to catwalk in them and Dan for dressing as close to the homeless as he could. For all that Dan could make amazing pieces of fashion, the man only filled his own closet with mismatched joggers and pajamas.

Danny had to force him back to change at one point since Dan had intended to walk around in a bathrobe- with shorts and stained short sleeves underneath it. He drew the line on bathrobes.

It was so embarrassing to be gawked at all the time that Danny could not help but wish Dan would try just a little. This was somewhat worse than when he was alone because at least then he knew it was just how stupid and awkward he looked in the outfits.

Now, he just felt subconscious about trying too hard compared to Dan.

"Relax, kid," The other scoffed, snapping a picture of the Brown Bridge. "By the time you're my age, you honestly stop caring about what other people think, so long as you like how you look."

"Can't you at least comb your hair?"

"I forgot how to do that."

Danny snaps his head in his direction, blinking owlishly "What?"

Dan shrugs. "My hair was fire for a literal decade, brat. How was I supposed to comb it?"

"Oh," Danny supposes, that makes sense. After all, Dan was more ghost than human at that point, driven mad by his grief and a colossal monster. He sort of forgot that. "Do you want me to show you how?"

"Ew. No. Too much work. Humans are so high maintenance." Dan rolled his eyes and shifted his tone into a mocking one. Comb your hair, change your clothes, take a bath."

"You smell like shit, Dan."

"You look like shit!"

"We have the same face!"

"It's better on me!"

Their public arguments also attract lots of stares. Danny would feel embarrassed by them if he wasn't so busy bickering with Dan as they moved about.

Ultimately, Dan had made his outfits formal steampunk during the break. Danny wished he had stayed with the Dark Academia idea because he felt he was walking around in a costume instead of clothes.

Dan told him that it felt too basic to go with Dark Academia since, now that he saw more of Gotham, he thought it better represent the city as a whole instead of the elites of Gotham. Danny debated with him until he agreed to make two of the four outfits- meant to represent all four seasons of Gotham's beauty or something stupid like that- to be dark academia.

Danny nears the end of the runway, stopping right before the judges to strike his pose. His eyes never leave the center decorative flower in the far back, but he makes sure to slowly turn his head as if he is gazing at the crowd.

There are gasps as he pulls off his tophat in a twirl to hide the way he presses the button on his hip. At once, his pants and sleeves light up in the gentle glow of the Brown Bridge's famous historic lampost show. It's no brighter than his ghost glow, but it makes him look like a vision, especially when he puts the hat back on with a mysterious curl of his lips.

Danny practiced that move for weeks—even when it made him cringe—and he is happy to have pulled it off successfully as he twists around and struts away. The Brown Bridge only lights its lanterns in the winter, so this hits a true Gotham native here for the seasonal challenge portion.

With his superhearing, he manages to catch Tim Drake-Wayne's dreamy sigh. Danny fights the urge to fist bump. If they impressed the special judge so much, then they just guaranteed their spot in the next round.

Each round meant they were closer to completing the mission. Since it's been practically impossible to find Batman—even when the man was running around dressed like a giant bat—this was their best bet.

Once he's backstage, he rushes to Dan's area, already ripping off most of his outfit for the last piece. Spring dark academia vaguely reminded him of rich school uniforms, but at least they didn't have ridiculous amounts of belts and metal on them.

Dan already has the outfit set out and quickly helps him change. He adjusts the vest and collar for Danny, glancing angrily at the model walking up the line. "Come on, we only have a few minutes before the last two models finish their walk for the Winter portion."

Danny nods, throwing on the gargoyle ear cuffs, only to pause when he sees a strange card on Dan's station. He pushes aside the black rings to grab a tiny green card with a giant question mark. "What's this?"

"Some guy saw my work and wanted to commission him a suit. Apparently, he was tired of how no one could style the question marks." Dan answered, distracted while reapplying some powder to Danny's face.

"A question mark? Why?"

"It's his gimmick or something. I didn't bother to ask for too many details. He will be going to our house soon to get his measurements done," Dan says, twisting Danny's face with his chin to make sure everything looks good. Danny lets him, blindly slipping on his rings and bracelets. "Thought it be a fun little side project."

"How did he hear about you?"

"You remember how you took those boxes of clothes to the job search office to give to people? Apparently, one of his employees' younger brothers borrowed a suit for his prom, and he thought the photos were nice." Dan shrugs. Then he glances in alarm at the stage hand who signals for them. "Never mind that. It's almost our turn again. Get out there!"

Danny scurries away, but not before he sees a beautiful redhead woman in green- was that leaves and vines???- stride over to Dan as the clone puts away his makeup.

She gestures with a business card, and Dan blinks as she talks once before he eagerly takes out his design journal. She must be a performer asking Dan for a new forest design or something.

Danny wonders why Gotham has so many people with oddly specific gimmicks.

He turns his head away to stride back into the catwalk, head held high as he does so. Danny makes the mistake of locking eyes with one of the judges- Tim Drake-Wayne is gawking at him like the people of the street do- and he snaps his gaze away, fighting to keep his composure.

He thinks he does well since Team Fenton snatches first place in this round. Drake-Wayne catches him at the after-party, praising his final outfit so much that Danny offers to give it to him, knowing Dan wouldn't mind.

Drake-Wayne goes red, early agreeing, but since they are so different in size—the CEO's waist is slightly leaner but with far more muscular forearms—Danny tells him to come by his house that weekend to have Dan resize it for him.

It should be fine since the Question Mark man and Leaf Lady will also be there that day for their own measurements.

[rosie-writings]

For Just a Moment I'm Whole Again

Request: anon—ghost!Reader falls in love with Colby

Summary: ghost!Reader finds out that her twin flame is Colby who was born decades after she died, and upon meeting him for the first time, she needs his help to usher her on to the afterlife to be free from the purgatory she roams.

Warnings: ghost!Reader x Colby smut, Age Gap, Bittersweetness, light Angst, Fluff, and Twin Flame relationship

Words: 6.6k

No Y/N Use

Title from 'Calcutta' by Sleep Token

A/N: Technically, Reader is 19 while Colby is 27, however she died nearly thirty years before he was born, so who's older?

I stopped crying about it a few years ago.

Maybe a decade or two, I wasn’t quite sure. It’s not that I was upset about how I died, I almost forgot the pain of it all, I was upset because out of everywhere I could have died, it was in a house. 

A lonely house.

After I died, apparently my friends were too traumatized to keep the house, so they sold it. I tried to get their attention. Everyday I tried to convince them that purgatory was real and they forced me into it by leaving. What was I supposed to do alone in a house that no one wanted to buy because a death occurred?

When I found out that they also rumored to their realtor that it was haunted, I wanted to slap the lives out of them. Of course it was haunted; that was your best friend trying to get you to look at me for once before I could never see you again—

I cried for years.

No one bought the house.

I slept in the king sized bed in the room upstairs alone and cold.

There was a hotspot in the middle of the house. 

The house was built upon a particular mineral that ushered in traveling ghosts, and the convenient vortex in the center of it aided their arrival. Occasionally I met other ghosts and other inhuman beings that couldn’t care less about me. They probably had millennia of experience navigating the afterlife’s purgatory on earth while I was only a couple decades old.

I think I died in 1971. I couldn’t remember. 

The day this house was bought, I thought I was saved.

Instead, major renovations took place. They ripped the nostalgic wallpapers off the walls and tore out the carpets that my human and ghostly feet were all too familiar with.

”How about you chose an actually appealing pint this time, motherfucker,” I spat at the contractor who walked right through me in the main hallway upstairs. I rolled my eyes and followed him into the primary suite.

Today was the day they renovated my bedroom.

”I wonder how many years it’s been; you look fucking weird. Do all men have that silly ass haircut or something now?” I asked as I sat on top of the ladder in the middle of the room. “Thanks so much for bringing your tool batteries in here. You don’t need those do you?” I felt their powerful buzzing. I felt the electricity waving through the room and I sucked it all up.

With every minute that passed, I felt stronger and stronger, until.

”Oops—“ I sighed in boredom as I knocked a paint can off the top of the ladder.

The worker whirled around with wide eyes and basically looked at me in mine, but he saw through me. I rolled my eyes again.

“You humans are all the fucking same. God, I was so damn embarrassing as a human. Can’t you at least try to talk to me? I’m so fucking—“

His co-worker called his name and walked in the room.

”What the fuck have you done?” The second shouted. White paint pooled on the concrete below me.

”At least you didn’t put floor in yet—“

”It just-It just fell! I didn’t even touch it! I put it up there like 20 minutes ago and-and it just fell!” The second worker grumbled and picked up the emptying can.

”They said there was some poltergeist activity in this house which is why it took fucking 50 years for it to be sold again.”

50 years?

My lack of heart nearly fell through the floor. 

I sat on the ladder looking through them this time. 50 years? I was stuck here for 50 years with nothing to do? No one to talk to? I wanted to cry. Ghost cry sessions weren’t as satisfying as human cry sessions.

I had to get out of here.

I had to—

I stole the energy from all their equipment, but it was still not enough. Even with the electromagnetic energy pulsing through my spirit, the hotspot wouldn’t take me. 

“Come on,” I grumbled. I looked through the vortex and saw spirals and spirals of unveiled spirits traveled through this purgatory called earth, and yet none would grab on to me. What was beyond? “Please! Take me! Get me out of here!” 

I broke down crying again. 

This was the biggest chance I had in order to leave and not even it was enough.

I curled up in the middle of the floor there and cried until I fell asleep.

Later, when the sun was high in the sky and the house was vacant, I woke up. 

As I stood, I appeared in the master bedroom so I could sleep in the bed—

“What the fuck?” I asked to nothing.

The walls were white, the flooring was finished with deep warm floorboards, and the bed frame was a plush cream color with a creamy duvet. 

“They did this fast. I wonder how long I was asleep for.” There was a dresser, two nightstands, and a desk that all matched in a deep brown, practically black, wood finish. “We go 50 years in the future just to be completely devoid of all color. Jesus fuck.” I curled up in the bed regardless. “Oh my god,” I moaned loudly. “Actually, I take all that back. I will give up any color in my life to feel this mattress if only for a second. This is how technology should be used, oh my god…” 

I don’t remember finishing my sentence, I fell unconscious again.

I woke up to the sound of voices. 

I shot to the foyer in a blink of an eye and I saw a family. A mom, a dad, three kids, and a dog, and I nearly cried on sight.

”Hello! Oh my god, yes thank everything good and mighty. You bought this house? I’m not alone anymore!” The dad walked through me. “I’m so excited—Oh my god your dog is so cute!” I fell to my knees in front of the Husky and it howled a talking fit at me, and when I raised my hand to pet it, it ran away from me so fast that it slid across the floor on its nails. “I’m not that scary, I don’t think,” I sighed and stood up again.

There was a girl, probably fifteen or sixteen, who walked right past me with something in her hands.

”Oh what’s that?” I asked as I followed her. The rectangle in her hand illuminated back at her like a TV screen and her thumbs furiously typed on some kind of keyless keyboard. “Holy shit! Is that one of those phones that all the futuristic movies talked about? We have them in the real world now?” I nearly screamed. I plopped into a vacant barstool next to her. “I would have loved that,” I grumbled. I devised a plan to steal it from her in her sleep and play with it all night. 

I watched as she turned it on again.

”A passcode?” I questioned and I was ready to memorize it, but suddenly a blue light scanned down her face and it unlocked by itself. “Now that’s—“ I got out of my seat and backed up from her. “That’s weird. Can that detect ghosts?” 

“Come on! Let’s go in the pool!” I gasped when the younger boy ran right through me and out the backdoor. I smiled when he cannon balled in the pool out back. 

“Lukas! It is 40 degrees outside, get your ass in the house now!” His mother screamed, and I laughed.

“Oh yeah, they put so many cool pool toys in the chest out there,” I told him as I stepped foot outside. “You would love them in the summer though. It’s pretty cold—“

I must have walked too far out of the house, because in a blink of an eye, I teleported back in the middle of the vortex.

”God help me,” I sighed, and I started to devise my game plan to get into that girl’s device in the night.

It wasn’t easy. 

The moon was high in the sky, and I walked in the girl’s bedroom cautiously. Not like she could see me, but I could make noises and I didn’t want to scare her.

Her phone lay on the table next to her bed with a cord coming from it, and she slept soundlessly next to it. I picked it up. 

It illuminated to life and I gasped. I read the time and date.

2:35am, December 20, 2021

”Oh.. my god…” I whispered slowly.

2021? That wasn’t a real year. It had been 50 years that I was—

How was I going to get out of here? I needed out. First I needed this girl’s device. I grabbed it, and when it scanned my face, it said it was the incorrect Face ID.

I pointed it at the girl cautiously, and after a few recalculating aims, it unlocked. I brought it back to me and saw so many colors I didn’t know which to tap first. The entire screen responded to my touch.

I flicked through the squares on the screen and with each one, I read more and more paragraphs about people. It looked like the news or something. I couldn’t believe how amazing this device was at taking photos. 

“I don’t understand,” I whispered. The squares where it seemed like I could communicate with other people intimidated me; I didn't understand who I was talking to so I tried to get out of it and go back to the original place where all the squares were. I accidentally swiped and it moved the screen and I tapped out of it. That was how you got out of it, got it.

I found another app that was red. I clicked it. This time photos with short captions were the only things I scrolled through. After a second, I clicked one to make it larger, but instead, it brought me to another screen and a video began playing.

The audio was so loud and clear, I gasped and tried to figure out how to silence it. The girl disturbed next to me. The button I clicked turned the volume down.

A video played of the same photo I clicked on—

Those weren’t photos, they must have been paused videos or something. I watched and listened and it was actually entertaining. After the video ended, I clicked another.

And then another.

And before I knew it, the sun peeked over the horizon. The time read 7:30am. I had been watching these videos for five hours. 

I put the phone down and walked out of the room. 

I would have loved 2021.

I did it again the next night.

I sat there on the floor against the nightstand and watched more videos. 

Video after video, I started to remember the names of the people who posted them. I didn’t remember the rabbit trail I went down; recommended video after recommended video led me to one that made me stop my jumping around.

It was a video of two idiotic boys messing around in a haunted house.

Now, I never was into haunted or spooky things when I was alive, and being dead now, I would say that I had a pretty large say in and experience in what these boneheads talked about. 

I didn’t expect them to be so respectful. And considerate, too.

I watched as they talked to spirits in the house, and it was startling to watch humans interact with us spirits from their perspective. I forgot that that was all they saw.

I forgot how limited I was when I was trapped in my human skin.

How silly they were; it didn’t matter that they would have been seven years older than I was. Most of the people were children on YouTube, and they were the worst of them. 

Sam and Colby certainly made me laugh, and their means of communicating with ghosts even more so. 

There were some videos that scared me.

I liked the two a lot, and I didn’t want them to get hurt or manipulated by demonic forces. I had seen demonic forces firsthand, and humans were stupid enough to summon them. If I was afraid of them, humans definitely should have been.

The way they assumed everything was as sinister as they did made me laugh the most because the majority of spirits communicated with them were teasing them and cracking jokes. The boys took everything too seriously, but that was why they were so good.

They cared.

But one of them, Colby, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of. It was like I knew him. Warmth spread through me, and for the first time since I died, I was overcome with the need to leave. The pull teased me, beckoned me. 

I was over forty years older than him; I would have never met him, so how did I know him? 

Why did I need him?

I needed someone who cared about me like they did for spirits. I needed a human who cared to come in and help me. Certainly there were other humans out there who could help me like Sam and Colby, but they definitely weren’t as loud or had as much faith as they did in their capabilities. 

I would be lying if I said I didn’t cry when that family left the house two days later. It wasn’t because I would be lonely again but because I couldn’t drown myself in Sam and Colby’s videos. 

Or in Colby’s appearance and voice.

Hopefully someone else would stay for a week and I could use their phones to watch YouTube again.

Two weeks later, the house was booked again.

I finally learned that the house I was trapped in was turned into something called an AirBnb and I supposed that it was a house rented like a hotel. 

The same routine spun into effect.

A new visitor spent the week here, I drained their batteries in everything they brought, I drowned myself in YouTube (to be honest, I drowned myself in the force that was Colby’s voice), and spent endless time spinning around the house in boredom wondering when the human chosen to save me would come.

They would come and help one day, I knew it.

The front door opened. 

I was out of the bed in a flash and appeared in the foyer to see the new visitors. Two men walked in the house, and I wondered what on earth they were up to for arriving near two in the morning. 

It was three years after I first learned what YouTube and social media was. I was ingrained in the politics, culture, society, and hyper-communicative world that was 2024. 

I toed the fence. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to stay here and live as a free spirit in 2024 forever or be taken into the next spiritual realm. I knew I couldn’t stay forever, and with every year that passed, I felt the fabrics of my spirit being taken away into nothing. 

I needed help.

When I came spirit to face with the two new visiting men, my entire world flipped upside down.

I knew them.

They were the ones with the YouTube channel. 

They were—

”I know we said we would do some stuff before we go to sleep, but I literally—“

”No, I know,” the other sighed. “I’m so tired too. We got here a lot later than we planned.”

”We should just sleep then wake up a bit earlier than we planned to have more time to do what we couldn’t now.” The other nodded lazily.

”Yeah, we can do that.”

”Night, Colby,” said the blond one as he walked up the stairs.

”Night, Sam,” said the one I stood next to in between the foyer and the living room.

If I had a heart, it would have pumped loudly in my ears, and if I had a tongue, it would have dried up. Ever so slowly, I turned and looked at Colby as he pulled things from the backpack he had placed on the couch. His back faced me. 

And I couldn’t control myself, the intrusive thoughts won. I wondered what he would do if I—

At the sound of his water bottle crashing into the hardwood floor, Colby whirled around with wide eyes and watched as it rolled to a stop.

“What the fuck?” He whispered. I gasped when he walked through me. I turned and watched as he picked it up and placed it back on the table. He watched it.

With a smile, I didn’t take my gaze off his face as I knocked it back onto the floor. He took two steps back. 

That was when the realization dawned on me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. When I felt him, when I was near him, it made sense. The pieces shoved together painfully.

“Uh… Sam?” Colby called. 

“What?” He called cautiously as he came from his room. “What’s wrong?”

”I—I swear to god, this water bottle fell off the table deliberately. Like someone knocked it over, twice.”

”Really?” He asked hesitantly when his feet hit his floor. At this point, they both stood in front of me and I crossed my arms in boredom. I was nearly as tall as the two; they were a lot smaller in person.

I was tall for a girl; almost five foot nine.

He placed the water bottle back down.

I stared at it. Humans were so dumb. I watched their anticipation knowing full well I wouldn’t satisfy them. 

“What is happening, I swore it happened and it’s not now which means it’s not like the table is slanted or something.”

”That’s weird,” Sam said. 

“You can go back to bed, sorry—“

”No, you’re fine, stupid,” Sam laughed as he went back.

Of course when he was halfway up the stairs with his back turned I yanked it off the table. Colby already left to the couch though, and so when Sam turned around quickly, he froze when he realized Colby was completely out of reach.

”See? I told you!” Colby cried.

”Oh shit… Yeah I have no idea how to explain that.”

”Wanna get a rem pod and the camera or something?” Colby asked.

“Maybe if something else happens.”

”Okay, okay,” Colby said, and I watched in surprise when Sam walked back to his room. They must have been tired then.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t mess with Colby until he went to sleep.

”You guys are idiots,” I said as if I expected a response. “Are you actually staying up or are you—oh,” I gasped when he turned around and walked through me before I could react. He picked up his bag and walked up the stairs. I sighed. 

“That answers that.”

I peeked around the door. Colby stood in his room. I watched as he situated the things from his backpack. Those were some fancy cameras, small ones for that matter, and it looked like he charged the batteries. My eyes couldn’t pull from his skin though. He only wore his black jeans.

He turned towards me and I watched as he walked to the desk in his room. I intently focused on his face and his tattoos. He was so pretty. But he looked so different. I walked into the room and stood at the desk with him.

”What are these?” I asked and I touched the devices on the desk. Then, I gasped as his hand went through mine. My hand paused and I tried to feel the warmth. What would have been my hand burned with warmth, and I didn’t pull it away. 

Colby froze in his place and stared at his hand. It burned cold.

But then he turned from the table and went back to the bed.

Now, never once in my life have I snooped. I’ve never pried, intruded, or watched anyone when they didn’t think they could be perceived. But I couldn’t leave his room. I froze in my place as I watched when he pulled his pants off. I couldn’t focus on anything else except his body. The way he moved, settled in the room, got in the bed, and plugged his phone in; every decision and every thought process was so painfully human.

I liked him a lot. Too much.

I wanted him to know I was here too. 

The last time I tried to communicate with humans was with my best friends after the accident happened. After, their realtor was a bitch. There was a medium who was more so a dumbass who came to communicate with me. I scared her, and perhaps that went wrong. That might have been why it took so long for this place to be renovated. 

I needed to talk to Colby. I wanted him.

I never wanted anyone as badly as I wanted him.

I stood in front of the desk where the devices were strewn about, and as he read his phone, I touched one of the devices. 

I recognized one. It was a radio of sorts. One of the mediums who tried to communicate with me used it. Perhaps they were here to try to talk to me anyway.

I turned the spirit box on.

Immediately, Colby sat straight up in his bed. His phone was forgotten on the sheets. I laughed and watched as his confused eyes scanned the room.

”Hello,” I laughed. Then I used energy and found the word on a channel—

Hello

Colby looked around the room.

”Um, hi?” He said.

If I had a body, I was pretty sure the feeling I had was akin to my heart falling out of my ass.

“I know who you are, you publish on YouTube, right?”

I know you

Colby’s face turned with distrust. 

“What—Are there actually spirits in this house?” He asked. I rolled my eyes.

”Obviously. You’re so dumb. I thought you know how to talk to us—

Duh…

He scoffed and his shock turned into an amused expression.

”What’s your na—“

Don’t be stupid

He stopped talking and his eyes widened.

”How do you know me? I’ve never been here.”

”You literally have 11 million people watching you on YouTube, don’t be silly,” I sighed.

You make videos

”You’re seen my—“ He gasped and thought for a moment. “How old are you? How long have you been here?”

For a long time

”I’m supposed to be nineteen,” I sighed.

Nineteen

”Nineteen—Holy shit wait, someone—the owners said a nineteen year old died here in the 70s—“

”That was totally me.”

Me

Colby looked at the spirit box on the table and I smiled.

“Yeah,” he gasped nervously. “Are you the only spirit in the house?”

”Only one that lives here, anyway,” I scoffed.

Only one

”I’m sorry you’re alone.” I froze. 

“What did you say?” I asked quietly, timidly. Silence. It defeated me. 

It had been over 50 years since the accident and in all that time, no one apologized.

No one said sorry about my death or that I was alone. Not a single person had the empathy. Colby stared back at the spirit box. His eyes fell from it. He looked around the room in thought.

Suddenly, the urge ever too heavy came over me. 

I glided straight over to him and I sat on the bed.

He shot up with his eyes wide. 

If I had eyes, he would have looked right into them.

”Are-Are you on the bed with me?”

”Yes,” I confidently said and tried to use all my energy to tell the spirit box—

Yes… On this bed…

”Holy shit,” Colby whispered. 

I felt the way his heart skipped.

The way his skin lit on fire.

I moved forward, and when I did, his skin fell cold.

”Did-Did you just touch me?” 

“I’m on top of you.”

And it was true. I straddled him. I held his face in my lack of hands, and the warmth coursed through me like an electrical current. I needed him. He tethered me back into reality; the human world. That urge and that desperation to move onto the spirit realm died the moment I touched him.

Top

”You’re on me?” He rested his weight on his hands behind him. When he pushed his hips forward, a gasp left me because I felt the pressure. 

Familiarity.

“I remember you, Colby. I know you, we knew each other—‘

Colby

”Why did you say my—“

I know you

“You know—oh shit,” he gasped. My vision hazed. My perception of my surroundings grew blurry as if I was about to sleep.

Heat coursed my body, and I held onto him to keep from falling asleep.

”You feel really good,” I gasped. I didn’t think about this.

We knew each other

“What?” He gasped as his body went rigid. Sexual things were so far from me. I figured that when I moved onto the spirit realm, more doors to explore sexuality would open. I never came across another human I viewed as desirable like him. 

I never came across a human or spirit that felt as familiar as he was.

I knew he already had two female ghosts who liked him and messed around with him.

Good

”What’s good?” He gasped again. This time, it sounded like he was more breathless than anything.

”You.”

You

”Is that you making me feel like this? Are you touching me?” I moaned when I thrusted against him over and over. “Holy fuck—I just got so… What am I even doing?” Colby sighed more so to himself and then he laid himself back down against the bed. I gasped when he moved through me. 

I looked down at him as his forearm rested across his forehead. His face was flushed and eyes were closed in thought.

I couldn’t deny the pressure under me. I knew he was painfully hard under me, but I had no intention of leaving or letting him do it himself. I looked down and couldn’t look away from his body. It was on fire, and the pressure in his underwear grew and grew.

I wish I could feel him for real with my hands and my skin. 

“Holy fuck,” he moaned this time, and I moaned as well. He sounded so good like this. “I feel so crazy. Please tell me this is you doing this to me and not me—“

”I’m doing it. I’m touching you, Colby. Let me touch you.” Colby moaned again and again as I thrusted against him. 

It’s me

His eyes shot open again.

Let me touch you

“Fuck, okay—holy shit—okay you’re-you’re actually real.”

”Yes,” I laughed. “I want to see you feel good.” 

“If you’re actually real, get off of me and make me stop feeling like this—“

I was on the other side of the room in an instant. Colby sat up with a flushed face. 

“What the fuck,” he whispered. I felt as the arousal in his body diminished. “And…” He mumbled hesitantly. “And if you’re real, get on top of me. Turn me on again.”

I blinked and I straddled Colby’s lap. 

“Holy fucking—ugh.” And his head tossed into the pillow and eyes rolled back.

”Fuck,” I gasped as I watched him throw his arm across his mouth to conceal his moans.

Immediately, his arousal built again, and I thrusted against him over and over.

”You’re making me—Oh my god, don’t stop please,” Colby gasped. 

You feel good

”Fuck,” he gasped.

He looked up at me and I swore he saw me. He didn't look through me, and I wished I could touch him.

Kiss him.

”You’re going to make me come.”

“Oh my god yeah, I want to see you come,” I mumbled. I would resurrect myself from the dead just to kill myself again if he knew I said that so I tried to hold in the energy. I didn’t want the music box to pick up on anything.

I tried to pull his underwear down. It was too difficult, too heavy. I was too tired. My gaze flashed around the room.

His phone. 

I focused my energy on his phone and took the energy from it. The strength boiled and boiled in my being until I opened my eyes and watched as the waistband of it ever so slightly pulled back.

”Oh my fucking god—“ Colby gasped, and I cried out in surprise when he sat up straight and kicked himself away from me. “You-You fucking pulled—Are you trying to take my underwear off? Oh my god—You’re fucking real. You really are—“

“Colby it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you I want to make you feel good—“

Don’t be scared

”What?” He gasped and whirled his gaze to the spirit box.

Make you feel good

“I’m—“ he paused. He looked around the room. “I’m not scared. I can’t believe you’re communicating so well with me.”

”I’m taking power from your phone,” I said towards the spirit box.

This cell phone

Colby looked back to the spirit box.

”My phone?”

Using energy

”Oh, you’re taking the energy from my phone? Let me plug it in so you can take as much as you want—“

Yes

”Okay—“ He groaned as he leaned over and plugged it in. He left it on the table next to the bed. I didn’t give him another second to say a sentence. I pushed down against him and he drew in an uneven breath. “I can’t believe I can feel you.”

”Can you feel this?” I grinded down on him, and his arm caught another moan behind his mouth.

“Holy shit—I think I felt-I felt that. I’m so—oh my god!” I pulled at his underwear again, and this time, I pulled it halfway down. “I’m so…” He sighed into a moan, and I felt the way heat traveled down his body. His temperature rose, and I couldn’t look away. Not a second passed that I didn’t utterly consume the image of his real life human body under me.

I pushed again and again, and before his hand could reach into his underwear, he gasped a rather louder moan and spilled in the fabric. 

I quickly tried to pull it back again, and this time, his underwear pulled halfway off. 

“Oh my god—“ I gasped as I watched the rest of his fluids cover his stomach.

”You just fucking—You actually took them off,” he gasped breathlessly as he gathered himself together after his orgasm.

Pleasure washed through me as well, but it wasn’t as tangible as it used to be when I was alive. I was on fire, and I wanted more, anything more, but it was impossible here.

Then the tug.

I wanted to move on.

It was as if this window of pleasure piqued my interest, and I knew that if I moved onto the spiritual realm, I could live again. I wouldn’t be trapped in this purgatory.

Colby was so cute though. He was familiar; he looked like he was mine. We were each other’s. I wanted him to myself, but there was no way I could take him with me. He needed to finish living as a human first.

Then maybe I would hunt him down and rescue him from his purgatory so he wouldn’t have to live like this for 50 years like me.

“Did you leave?” Colby whispered.

”No. I’m right here.”

Here

“Okay,” he sighed and relaxed into the pillow. “I can’t believe I just had sex with a ghost—wait,” he gasped and looked around the room. “Did I fuck you? That’s so—What the fuck…”

“No, I just touched you. I wanted you to feel good. I can’t feel good until I move on.”

No… For you… I don’t feel good

”What?” Colby gasped. “You don’t feel good?”

”I can’t.”

Can’t

”Oh, because… Is sex only for human bodies then?”

”No,” I said, and reminded myself to be concise for the spirit box

No

”When I escape I can feel something again.”

When I escape

”You’re trapped here?” Colby gasped. The gears turned in his head and excitement welled in me.

”Help me out, please.”

Help me

”Help you do what? Do you need to move on?”

”Yes! Help me to the spiritual world.”

Yes

”Where do you need me to—”

Spirit world

”Holy shit,” Colby whispered. “You want me to help move you out of purgatory? Is that what this house is for you?’

”Yes!” I exclaimed. 

He understood!

Yes

”Well then I’m getting up and telling Sam.”

If I had a body, I would scream and cry for joy.

Also, if I had a body, it would burn alive at the sight of Colby cleaning himself up, so I left the room and waited in the hallway with welling excitement. 

“You’ll actually use the spirit box and not make me look like a freak in front of him, right?”

”Yeah, I’ll talk to him,” I laughed.

Yes

”Good,” he scoffed as he pulled on clothes. 

“I promise.”

”Dude, that’s crazy if it’s true.” I watched as Colby told Sam what had happened and conveniently left out the part where I touched him. If he didn’t want Sam to know, then I wouldn’t expose him in that way. “Let’s see if she actually communicates as accurately as that,” Sam said as he turned on the spirit box. “Would we need to try the Estes?”

”Maybe we can,” Colby sighed. “There was a vortex downstairs, did you see it?”

”No I didn’t actually,” he gasped. “Do you want to do Estes there?”

“I’m getting bored,” I grumbled.

Let’s hurry it up

”Whoa!” Sam cried when the box spat those words out at him.

”Yeah,” Colby laughed. “She isn’t very patient.”

“Are you trapped here like Colby sai—“

”Yes!”

Yes

”Oh my god.”

”I told you!” I watched the boys as they grabbed their things. “Let's do it now.”

And as they walked through me towards the staircase, I froze with realization upon feeling Colby's body. It ached with excitement, nervousness, and…

Longing?

I followed them and listened to his heart and the rushing of his blood. Something tuned to desperation flowed with it. 

It would have been much easier for me to navigate life as a human if I could feel someone’s physical attraction to me like I could feel Colby’s. I didn’t think that was possible, especially since he couldn’t see me. For all I knew, they could still be on the fence about believing that I existed.

But I couldn’t deny the way he felt. The way Sam felt. Sam didn’t hear me or feel me the way Colby did, but I could tell by the warmth of his palms and the racing of his heart that he didn’t linger in denial anymore. 

“I’m not even sure how to start this,” Sam said as he sat in the chair. He volunteered himself to be under the Estes method so that Colby could lead the interaction. I stood next to Sam in the middle of the vortex; the darkened mirrors holding endless hypnotizing space hung on either side of us. 

“I know, it’s fine. I’ll figure it out when we get there. I’m pretty sure I just encourage her to move on and she uses energy or something. We’ll see.”

Sam pulled the blindfold down. Headphones placed over his ears. 

I felt the energy from the spirit box shrill to life.

“Did you follow us down here?”

“Yes,” I said quickly. “I’m here.”

“Here,” Sam’s monotone voice spoke for me.

“Okay good.” Colby’s voice softened. I wanted to leave, I wanted it more than anything, but I also wished I had more time to listen to Colby, to be close to him. Every time I was near him, I zapped with electricity; a desperation I never knew. What would it be like if I was human? If we knew each other back then? What would it be like if we were born at the same time in the same state?

“Why are you afraid to move on?”

“I—All this time I wasn’t afraid, I just didn’t want to leave the human world, but now I can’t leave you. I want to stay with you, Colby.”

“Oh wow…” Sam muttered. 

“What?” Colby said quickly.

“That was a long—Those were a lot of words,” he laughed sheepishly. “Um…” I repeated what I said but paraphrased it to make it easier for the box to pick me up. “I wasn’t afraid of it.”

“You aren’t?” Colby gasped. “Why haven’t you—”

“Missed people.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Let me stay with you.”

“What?” Colby paused this time. “So you didn’t move on because you missed people and now you want to stay with us? Is it because you haven’t talked to anyone except for us—”

“No,” I grumbled. “I want you, Colby. No one else.”

“You, Colby.”

“Me?” He whispered. “Why do you want to stay with me? You can’t do that. You need to move on–”

“I wish we had time together then you would understand.” I wished that I could cry like humans did at that moment. I cried, but no pressure relieved me.

“We could have had more time.” Colby’s body froze as he stared in shock at Sam. Or maybe he stared through him. He wanted something to look at; he couldn’t see me. I wished I could reveal myself to him, but I didn’t know how.

“Why do you want us to have more time?”

“Because we would have been together. I could have actually probably loved you.”

“I would have…. I didn’t catch— Love you.”

“I would have loved you…” Colby whispered. “It’s too late,” he told me, but the quietness of his voice sounded like he figured it out for himself. 

“I can see you again, Colby.”

“See you again… Colby, dude it keeps saying your name.”

“I know,” Colby spoke absentmindedly. He looked like he was in a trance more than Sam was even though he rocked back and forth in the Estes method. “Are—Do you know me?”

“Maybe in a past life. We can find each other in the next.”

“Past life.”

“Holy shit.” His voice was quiet and I wanted nothing more than to hug him. I stood face to face with him in the blink of an eye. 

“I will see you soon, Colby.”

And I kissed him.

He blinked quickly and warm surprise flooded me when he licked his lips once.

“See you soon.” He didn't know what to say. I felt the tension in his throat.

“Don’t cry. Now tell me to leave and then you can find me when you’re done living here.”

“Help me leave.” Colby shook his head.

“No–”

“Please help me, Colby. I need to go on. You can’t stay here forever. I’ll be able to see you still and you’ll be able to feel me until one day you’ll see me for the first time. Well, for the first time in this timeline. Isn’t that exciting?”

“Please help me… You will still… I didn’t hear—Oh, You’ll still feel me.”

“I—I don’t like—”

“It’s okay, don’t be scared.” I stood in the vortex again. “Help me leave. I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t be scared. Help me leave.” 

“Okay,” Colby said as he shook himself out of it. “It’s alright, you can move on. Spirits leave this house, move on to the next life.”

That tug returned, but now it was unavoidable. The mirrors lulled me into a beckoning trance.

“Move on and be free from this house.”

The mirror pulled me in, the house was unreachable now.

“Love you.”

As Sam pulled off the blindfold, Colby’s eyes darted towards mine from where I traveled through the mirror, and from the look on his face—the pure focus on me, drift of his tear filled eyes across my face—he saw me.

Then all I saw was light.

A/N: I took a much needed break. Not to info or trauma dump, but my mom moved about four hours away from me a week ago, and I only found out three weeks before that. After helping her move, it's been pretty hard for me since we've only ever lived at most 10 minutes from each other. Thanks for being patient, and I'm going to hop back on that writing grind because I miss it!

Also, Comment if you would rather read multi-chapter fics on Tumblr or Ao3. This will help me navigate where to post if I do not cross post.

✧˖*°࿐

Taglist (Comment to be added):

@a-random-google-user

@graceciesiels22

@honestlybabymiracle

@xxsecretscenekidxx

@thedeadlynights

@glittervame

@rockwyu

@worldlxvlys

@benbarnesprettygurl

[lacryem]

— A surprisingly long and in depth look about symbolism in the recent G-Fantasy cover by Yana Toboso ✦

Including references, flower language, how to decode the meaning of flowers, and a little too much brainrot. As well my personal interpretation drawn from all the sources I looked at. And of course what all of means (and maybe hints at?) for Sebastian and Ciel… and maybe even Sebaciel? 

Originally posted as a twitter thread, but threads suck and I forgot a couple things. so here now.

Disclaimer :

I don’t know FOR SURE that all these things were directly referenced by Yana when creating this art. But being a fan of her work for over a decade I've become familiar with her use of symbolism and reference, and believe myself to have a good eye for it at this point!   I'm also pretty familiar with the use of flower language, including different languages, due to having been involved in a project about it and having to read wayyy too much about this. 

Some of it also includes my own personal interpretation, but the meanings and info I based myself off of ARE factual. I think I made it pretty clear when referencing my personal interpretation. You're welcome to reach your own interpretation based off of the stuff provided!

And lastly, I'm not a sebaciel shipper. I'm not an anti (the complete opposite, actually) and have nothing against the ship, I like the narrative around them and how they're written but I don’t actively ship them romantically or sexually. So I'd say this is actually a pretty unbiased interpretation. Personal taste is one thing, but I don’t deny the author's intention and whats written in front of me! That is what this post is about.

Kuroshitsuji takes place in the Victorian period (1837~1901) in 1889.

The following are both important Victorian books on the language of flowers that I will be basing myself off of.

Language of Flowers by Greenaway Kate (1884), and The Language of flowers: An Alphabet of Floral Emblems (1857).

(Also, I’m treating Ciel’s rose as a deep red rose. Which is a bit different than red roses. But I am adding some relevant information about roses in general, anyway.

Now, on what they say about these flowers.

Deep rose, meaning "bashful shame". White lily, meaning "Purity and sweetness."

— The White Lily

Most people assume that the lily refers to Ciel's purity, and that’s a fair assumption. But I disagree. 

Firstly, the one holding the lily is Sebastian. Holding it on his right hand, tilted towards the right. However what's relevant here is the VIEWER. From the viewer's POV he's holding it to the left. Note he also holds the scissors on his left hand, where he bears HIS contract seal.

How you hold a flower, what position you give it to someone in, changes the meaning of the flower. These context clues are very important. It tells us that 'purity and sweetness' doesn’t refer to Ciel, but actually refers to Sebastian (…sorta).

This may be a little confusing. Purity and sweetness, Sebastian?! I know, I know. bear with me.

These books provide poems to help us understand how you may interpret the intended meaning. The lily poem is about enduring trials out of love because of the purity and sweetness he sees in his lover's eyes and soul. I believe Yana directly references the poems I will include in this post in her new artwork.

— My Interpretation

the meaning of Sebastian's lily is:

"I do all out of love for the sweetness and purity within you."

Him holding it to the contact seal and cutting the flower could stand for him destroying this sentiment (affection within himself) that has arisen in him as a result of their contract by destroying the sweetness and purity—the source of it—within Ciel (consuming his soul).

Note: This is debatable, as 'reversed' almost always means upside down. But if you consider the lily facing away from the viewer as reversed then it could mean "impurity and bitterness" which fits pretty well with Ciel, and it being held against the contract seal which is a physical representation of his impurity, brought on by his bitterness.

— The Deep Red Rose

There something I find very interesting. The rose is in a teacup, standing in for tea (I think there's even tea alongside it in the cup.) From Yana herself we know that Sebastian's eyes are a reference to the reddish brown colour of tea.

Like I said, I believe this rose to be a deep red rose, which is a bit more specific than the meaning given to red roses. However I think the poem included for roses in general very much applies here.

I was going to add my thoughts but I found this interpretation that sums it up pretty well if you replace the carpe diem theme with a more "running out of time" or "impending death" theme, which seems to be a more accurate reading for this artwork.

Looking at the rose itself, it has no thorns or leaves.

It is not a youthful rose as its already fully open and losing petals. "No hope, and no fear" fits with the poem, the rose is basically an hourglass referring to Ciel. His fate is unavoidable, but this isn't a deterrent. He's dancing on the ledge.

The deep red rose means 'bashful shame'.

When you compare it to the lily, which is a direct proclamation, the deep red rose is a quiet confession one cannot verbalize.

Debatable, to be fair but given the tie in to Sebastian's eye colour and the fact that he is always the one pouring tea for Ciel, I believe the Sebastian to be the speaker here too, but this time speaking on Ciel's feelings (Hence why he's the one holding it) rather than Sebastian's own. 

— My Interpretation

The meaning of the deep red rose Ciel holds, speaking about Ciel's feelings of guardedness, and in response saying:

"Abandon your bashful shame, and let yourself be admired without expectations (hope) or fear"

Sebastian speaks about Ciel's feelings, the deep red rose acknowledges his feelings but they remain unspoken.

The Waller poem is a plead for his beloved to seize the day, for time is short, and allow herself to be loved completely. 

Her beauty is one to be appreciated, she is not meant to be a rose unacknowledged (unloved) in the desert.

Regarding 'expectations', I think this is more about rigid ideas of how 'appreciation' or 'admiration, might be shown or received. Sebastian and Ciel's relationship defies normality or 'expectations'. So this, too, would defy expectations a young boy like Ciel, or a traumatised boy like Ciel, may have.

From Yana herself, we know Sebastian's dedication and how highly he holds 'beauty', specifically Ciel's beauty.

The author of the poem proclaims that beauty not appreciated is not beautiful indeeed, and so he calls his beloved to come to him and be appreciated wholly during the invaluable, limited time they have.

We see the deep red rose's petals fall away, in my opinion not only symbolising the withering away of time, but also the crumbling away of this "bashful shame" that Sebastian ascribes to Ciel.

How Sebastian wishes to "appreciate" this beauty is debatable. How he wants to "admire" and "desire" (per the poem) Ciel is rather open ended. Wether it be in a romantic way, a sexual way or by consuming his soul.

However, I don’t think these are mutually exclusive. And consuming Ciel can easily be a metaphor for the former two. 

— The Lily and The Rose

The Greeneaway book has this poem which im sure was directly referenced. This poem speaks about the lily and the rose in a direct power struggle and fight for dominance, until they eventually unite and reign as one.

Now when speaking about this "union", you could say it refers to their contract, but I don’t think so.

The contract ties them to each other, but it doesn’t necessarily unite them. So I believe 'unity' to be about the appreciation Sebastian speaks of Ciel opening up to. 

"The Lily" and "The Rose" might be interpreted as directly representing Sebastian and Ciel, and the unity that would come from them joining and becoming a truly complimentary pair. I think a power struggle and fight for being the one in control is very accurate way to describe their current dynamic in canon.

It may also be interpreted as "The Lily" and "The Rose" as being representations of their feelings and ideals previously. And then it would represent these two conflicting expressions—a loud  unrelenting and destructive devotion, and a guarded, bashful, unspoken reluctance— coming together and turning from conflicting to complimentary. 

Or as it tends to be with these things, both!

Either way all of this is expressed under the sense of impending doom created by their circumstances and the contract. So there's a sense of urgency permeating all of it.

Also clear to me is a sense of internal conflictedness coming from Sebastian's message that is usually only hinted at like this, and some people end up overlooking.

Sebastian desires Ciel deeply, but having him would also mean not being able to have him anymore.

Sebastian is torn and that’s why he attempts to cut the root of his wavering feelings represented by the lily. 

All of this makes me wonder about what's next, and if we will see these things said more blatantly. Foreshadowing with flower language and references like this, isn't exactly rare for Yana. I wonder if we will see this 'unity' come to be, and what necessary development Sebastian and Ciel will need to undergo to make it possible. As well as what shape it will take.

I also wonder very much about Ciel's perspective in all of this, as this was almost entirely from Sebastian's POV, but I think that's intentional. Ciel has his own goals and a lot on his mind. Sebastian's goal IS Ciel. So I assume he spends a lot more time thinking about Ciel and this kind of thing.

Thank you if you read the whole way through. Like I said before, even though the sources defending it are, my interpretation is not law and you're welcome to reach your own with the things presented.

Links for sources, including free public domain PDFs of the books mentioned are found at the end of my twitter thread.

— Thanks for reading! —

[secretsofblackthornhall]

Magnus to Alec

Dear delectable muffin of love,

I hope this perfumed letter finds you well, and that you and R and M are having an excellent time in your exotic journey to…well, I believe the term you used was “upstate.” I have heard legends of this Upstate, but never did I know that my family would see for themselves its mountains, its twee farm markets, its River of the Son of Hud.

More to the point, I hope the kids are enjoying their visit with Grandma, and I hope you are referring to Maryse as “Grandma” as often as possible because I enjoy the face she makes when we do. On a less pleasant but more urgent note, I hope you’ve had a chance to talk with Luke about the Cohort/Idris stuff.

But do not tire your beautiful hands with a written reply. I will be heading to this “Upstate” myself to join you later this afternoon, as I am relieved to report that the business with the Blackthorn kids’ cursed house is more or less resolved. Although it was touch and go, let me tell you.

I don’t think I even showed you the note Jem sent, which said, “Emma and Julian are trying not to bother you about their house, and that is very nice of them, but unlike them, I feel absolutely no compunction about bothering you, and so this is me, now, in this note, bothering you. We are in need of a warlock and you are the best one I know for this. We would all really appreciate your help.”

As is often the case, I was both mildly annoyed and mildly impressed with Jem, who managed to be both very kind and also to remind me that I am a sucker when it comes to him and Tessa and will rush to their aid when I can. Because I am a sucker when it comes to him and Tessa, I wrote back quickly saying I would come.

I know what you’re thinking: “How could Tessa need a warlock when she is a warlock?” But different warlocks have different expertises, as you know, and while Jem was flattering me that I was the best choice, the reality is that I have dealt with a lot more curses than Tessa. That’s what comes of spending the past decades hiring your services out to any miscreants who come by, instead of more intelligently living a calm life as a magic researcher in the Spiral Labyrinth. Tessa always was the smartest of us.

Anyway, I must give Emma and Julian credit. I expected to arrive and find them banging the cursed objects against one another or something, but they had set up a decent enough protective circle and even found a spell. It was an old, kind of generic spell that I have found to rarely be of much use with actual curses in the modern day, but still.

Rather stupidly I set up a basic workaday curse-breaking circle of my own, and gave it a try. “Stupidly” because I had forgotten who did the curse in the first place. Your worst ancestor, Benedict Lightwood, all-around demon enthusiast and dilettante necromancer. How in bed with demons was Benedict? He literally died of demon pox — which if you do not know, because you are beautifully pure, my Alec — is a sexually transmitted demon disease.

But I forgot that in the moment, so I was surprised when the curse put up an impressive resistance. It writhed and thrashed and struck out, like Max being lowered into a bath. The cursed objects were all glowing, kind of neon green, where they were tied to the magic, and eventually I realized I was going to have to carefully unknot each object from the curse, one at a time.

I managed the flask, the dagger, and one of the candlesticks (don’t ask me to explain how THAT happens), but after that I was stuck.

It’s not a great look for a warlock to strike a big magic pose and then nothing happens. I am sure I looked ridiculous, like a mundane magician who couldn’t understand why the rabbit wasn’t coming out of the hat. Julian and Emma are very polite and only waited patiently but I felt quite silly.

And then I lost all my focus temporarily because the door opened and Kit walked in. He sort of looked around at the scene and finally said, “Professor Plum in the library with the candlestick, I see.”

“Purple is always an appropriate color for a warlock,” I said. “It is the decorative color of magic.”

Emma, of course, said, “Your magic is blue,” because she is an inveterate smartass.

“Maybe he meant me,” said Julian. “I’m wearing a purple hoodie. Also because it is the decorative color of magic,” he added with a nod in my direction, which I appreciated.

“Maybe you could put the objects on a purple tablecloth instead of a white one,” Kit said, and while he was talking he walked out to get a closer look.

And when he got close to the circle, Alec, I felt the strangest sensation. A feeling of…power, I suppose, kind of humming in Kit. You know the way your body kind of vibrates when there’s a really really low sound? That rumbling feeling? It was like that, but silent. I’ve never had that experience any of the times I’ve seen Kit before. I could also tell that Kit didn’t feel anything unusual. Or if he did, he was surprisingly casual about it.

So I suggested he come join us around the circle and add his focus to the magic. “Especially since Jem and Tessa have snuck off somewhere rather than helping out with this round.”

“They’re out in the garden with Mina,” Kit said, a little defensively.

I redirected everyone’s attention to the objects and established a somewhat souped-up version of my go-to curse breaker. I went for the other candlestick and BANG. No resistance anymore! There was a big burst of blue and all the knots of magic tying the objects to the curse broke into pieces.

Everyone blinked a bunch. Eventually I said something like, “Well, that was more what I was hoping for. I guess four people made the difference.”

I checked. The curse seemed…gone. I was actually a little shaken. I haven’t mentioned it to Tessa and Jem, because I don’t want to make a big deal of it, but I think it worked because of Kit. Not because we needed a fourth person. Something is going on with him, some magic that is totally outside his awareness. I assume it has something to do with being a descendant of the First Heir, but I’ve never been an expert on that kind of faerie enchantment. (And do burn this letter, after you get it — very few of us know about Kit being the First Heir, and it’s best if we keep it that way.)

It makes me sad to think of it. Kit is a good kid who deserves a good, ordinary life. I know that’s what Jem and Tessa want for him, more than anything, after the chaos that was his growing up. But I am not sure he will have a choice in the matter. Fae may not let him choose.

Julian reached out and took hold of the flask. He held it for a moment, frowning.

“What?” said Emma.

“Nothing,” Julian said. He looked up at me. “Is that it? No more curse?”

“No more curse,” I said. “I hope.”

And then down from the ceiling drifted Rupert the Ghost. I never met Rupert Blackthorn when he was alive. I don’t know what to think of him. On the one hand, he seems to have been an innocent who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, a spirit trapped in a house he never lived in because of evil he never knew about while he lived. On the other hand, he met Tatiana Lightwood and thought that lady seems like marriage material, so there must have been something weird going on with him.

Rupert had been hovering and he descended until he was right above the table. He was staring at something on it.

“What is it, Rupert?” said Emma. “What are you looking at?”

Kit followed his gaze and started pushing the objects out of the way. “It’s the ring,” he said.

Emma said, “What ring?”

Indeed, what ring? There wasn’t a ring among the cursed objects. But there was a ring on the table now. Kit picked it up. It was a silver ring, etched with a design of thorns and set with a black stone.

“Blackthorn family ring?” Kit said.

“It’s not how family rings usually look,” Emma said.

“Wedding band?” said Kit.

“Shadowhunters don’t use wedding rings,” said Emma, but Julian had that thoughtful look he gets.

“I am bound here by a silver band,” he said softly.

“Shadowhunters can exchange wedding rings,” I said. “They just aren’t expected to. But they can if they want.”

Whatever it was, it was Rupert’s. He had followed Kit’s hand as it picked up the ring, and now he was reaching out for it with a thin ghostly hand. He wrapped it around the ring, which did absolutely nothing since he’s a ghost – Kit just kind of held it there for him. Then his eyes closed (Rupert’s, I mean) and he got this expression on his face of relief and gratitude and peace, and he just…faded out, right there. Just slowly vanished and was gone. No more Rupert. On to hopefully not being reunited with his wife, since she was also his jailer for over a hundred years.

“He didn’t even say goodbye,” Emma said quietly.

“That’s for the best,” I said. “He was never supposed to be here at all.”

“Well, Rupert, if you can hear me,” said Emma, “it was nice being haunted by you.”

“Five stars,” said Kit solemnly, putting the ring back on the table. “Would be haunted again.”

And all the candles went out in the room at once. Which, if it was Rupert, was a nice touch. Though it may have just been a draft.

We all filed out of the room quietly. “It’s different,” Julian said. He was looking around at the hallway. “I can feel it already.”

I could feel it as well. There was a lightness that had not been there. A kind of pleasant hominess that a good house conveys and that had always been absent from Blackthorn Hall in the time I’ve known it. It’s hard to describe, but all at once it felt like Julian and Emma’s home, in a way it hadn’t before. I’ve always known it as a forbidding place, and then as a hideous ruin, but for the first time I thought, this was a place the Blackthorns could fill with joy.

And I’m certain they will.

See you very soon, my love. I shall kiss you until a toddler forces us apart to pay attention to him. So plan for a kiss of about 30-60 seconds, based on previous experience. But I wish, as always, that it could be endless.

Love,

Magnus

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Valentine’s Day: Ithaqua

My fav skins of Ithaqua doing the V day thing idk

rated mature | warning: drug (invisible man) and morningstar being weird (this normal for him tbh)

Normal Ithaqua:

“Are you saying you want to mate with me?”

“No, no! This is just a gift to you because I love you.”

“You have given me gifts before but this is different. Are you hinting you want to partake in a fertility ritual? There is no possible way I can help you create a child, (Name).”

“Ithaqua, love, that is not at all my intention.”

“Pity, I would like to mate with you though no child could come from our union.”

“Ithaqua!”

Snickering at the cost of you becoming embarrassed, “It's just a gift!”

“A gift. A symbolic one. I don't see why you should deny it being a mating gift. I gladly accept it.” Taking the ribbon off the box and placing it above your breast area, “I will return from my hunt in eight minutes.” You forgot he had a match today.

“Eight minutes? Isn't that a bit over-confident?”

“No one will get in the way of me having you tonight, (Name).” He is very serious, without his mask you can see how intensely he gazes at you like an owl to a mouse.

Morningstar!Ithaqua:

“This must have been a holiday our dear Sun permitted during my exile.” Examining the small circular box, “Hmm, a festival celebrating love.” He grins as you kneel at the foot of his throne, “How about we invite our dear eclipsed Sun to join us!?”

Your eyes widen as you keep your head down, hands gripping the fabric of your gown Helel makes you wear— Easy access to his Moon.

“Yes, he should join in on this day of debauchery and decadence! You shall be our mitigator and puzzle piece to our poor yearning hearts.” That giggle of madness follows.

“As you wish, your grace.”

“And be sure to wear something easy to rip off! You are our treat to devour until the following sunrise.” He waves you off dismissing you.

White Knight!Ithaqua:

The gift is presented to you while you are still in bed and sitting there attempting to fully wake up, the knight placing it on your lap as he kisses your shoulder up to your neck.

“Valentine's Day?”

“What do you think I forgot?” Resting his cheek against your shoulder, “Go on open it.” Tapping the white box.

You carefully open the box and then smile at the misshapen chocolates with a small card on top.

“His Majesty's idea.”

“And you helped.” Taking his hand and kissing the back of his palm, you say, “Thank you.” Then you frown, “I don't have a gift for you… Either of you.”

“I'll take you staying in bed all day as a gift.”

“I bet you would, Ithaqua,” Rolling your eyes.

“This was made not expecting something in return,” Kissing your shoulder again, “His Majesty also freed his schedule this afternoon for us to join him at the festival in town.”

You smile.

Invisible Man!Ithaqua:

“Happy Valentine's Day, my dear!” Speaking to you, “Our first year together as a couple, how exciting.” Taking off his coat while he speaks, “Oh, you look beautiful. You always look beautiful, but especially right now.” Touching your face with his cold leather gloved hands, “Red suits you, yes?”

You do not respond, the drugs in your system keeping you in a daze as you sit in a chair in front of a done-up table for the special occasion.

“White is my preference, but red sparks symbolize love and desire on this day. I know how much you adore your holidays. Anything for you, my heart.”

A flash makes you groan.

“Sorry, I know that was too bright but one more.” Another photograph is taken along with a flash, “There for our collection. It is important to document every important event in our new lives, (Name).”

He makes you nod.

“So glad you agree!”

[rafeandonlyrafe]

country club bathroom part two

words: 800

warnings: mentions of hooking up, no actual smut in this part, angst/fighting

part one / part two / part three / part four

“holy shit.” your eyes take in the grand entryway, the wealth of the cameron family on clear display.

“shit, almost forgot you were a pogue for a second there.” rafe laughs gently. he places his hands on your waist, hauling your body against his, lips meeting yours in a kiss.

you wrap your arms around his shoulders, expecting him to lift you up, to grip your ass and carry you up the stairs, to immediately take you to his bedroom, but after a few minutes of kissing, rafe pulls away.

“god, im starving.” rafe groans. you think it's a euphemism at first, especially considering how intensely he eats you out when you have enough time and privacy at the country club.

“yeah?” you smirk, but rafe doesn't smile.

“you're probably hungry after your shift, right? what do you want? ramen, pizza?”

“ramen?” you let out a giggle. “are you sure you're not the pogue?”

“alright, alright.” rafe laughs. “i would take you somewhere fancy but…” you get the implication. you may have been hooking up for months now, but that doesn't make it any less complicated to be seen in public together.

“pizza is fine.” you pat rafes chest, leaving him to call and order while you explore more of the house, unashamed of checking out every decadent piece of furniture.

rafe catches up to you in the living room, coming up to wrap his arms around your waist as you stare out the window towards the ocean, the waves gently lapping the shore.

“it looks just like my view of the water.” you mumble. ignoring the dock stretching out into the water, yours not extending nearly as far and certainly not boasting as many boats.

“yeah?” rafe questions, ducking his head to kiss your neck, knowing better than to suck a bruise on the sensitive skin, as much as he badly wants to.

“not that different afterall.” you hum. you mean it sarcastically, but it does have your mind whirling. these percieved small differences that divide the island, all based on nothing more than the numbers in your bank account.

“don't tell me my favorite pogue is sympathizing with the kooks now.” rafe scoffs.

you turn around suddenly, out of his arms. “as if you haven't been on your knees for me.”

“hey, hey.” rafe says softly, seeing you're actually angry. “i like you y/n. i know i tease you but you give good head. i wouldn't invite you back here if i didn't want you.”

“can't you see i have more qualities than just good head?” you question, not sure why you're suddenly so angry, why the feelings are building up in your gut. you just want to be recognized, recognized by rafe, by the kooks, want the divide to heal, or at least lessen.

“yeah, of course, baby.” rafe tries to reach out for you, but you take a step back, backing into the sliding glass door.

“what did i do wrong, baby?” he asks softly. “tell me so i can make it up to you. if i said something im sorry. i just like to tease you when i say that dirty pogue shit.”

“no, you mean it.” you shake your head. “i know how you treat the other pogues on the island.” you have never seen rafe fight anyone else, but you've seen the cuts and bruises and heard stories from maybank and pope when you visit heywards.

“you're different.” rafe doesn't let your backing away stop him this time, wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you into his body. “yeah, you give good fucking head but you're also funny, and sassy. and have a backbone. everything ive done to the other pogues is because they're not like you. they're pieces of shit. probably not every single one of them, yeah. but i don't touch the ones that don't give me a reason to.”

“yet you still refuse to be seen in public with me.” you know you're asking a lot of rafe, and it's not like you can be seen together at the country club anyways. you knew he was only asking you to hook up when he invited you over, but the comment about taking you to a fancy restaurant struck you harder than you thought it would.

you pull away suddenly. “what are we doing here? i mean really. just hooking up? fucking? and we don't even really like each other? im sorry rafe, i don't think i can do that anymore.” you start to head through the maze of a house, needing to find your way out, needing to take a deep breath of air.

“what do you mean?” rafe follows your footsteps.

“if this is going nowhere… if we can't even go out on a single date, i… i can't do this.” you feel yourself starting to hyperventilate, chest suddenly getting tight, restricting your breathing.

“baby-” rafe tries to talk, but you find the front door and flee, running across his yard until you're outside of his fence, taking gulps of air. 

you look back and tanneyhill, and rafe doesn't follow you.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid

[txttletale]

hi I've been following you for a while and I had some questions about MLism. First, while I think I have a decent understanding of how it works economically, how would a ML government (after the revolution) ensure it doesn't become too powerful? like what systems would be put in place so that it hears public opinion and dissent (should there be any) and not try to maintain power through oppressive means?

Secondly, what would the aftermath of the revolution look like? once the government is overthrown, there will most likely be a period of instability where different factions trying to sieze control. How would the MLs make sure that they get seated in power?

I am genuinely trying to learn more about it, so I'm sorry if those questions are ignorant. Thanks!

i mean, that first part? i'll be completely honest with you and say that in my opinion that's a partially unsolved problem. i think that lenin's prescriptions in state & revolution, based on the actions of the paris commune--that all 'officials' should be subject to democratic recall at any time and paid no more than anyone else--would be a good start.

but of course the USSR did not ossify and see abuses of power because its leaders simply forgot about what lenin wrote--the centralization of power and limiting of worker democracy was a direct result of the newly formed state apparatus having to fight brutal years-long civil war followed as mere decade later by a brutal years-long international invasion. & this is of course a situation that will be faced by any serious socialist government & their newly formed apparatus!

however, on the other hand -- cuba has succesfully maintained an incredible system of participatory democracy. i think that mao's idea of the 'mass line' -- that theory must constantly be in dialogue with the situation on the ground and the situation of the workers -- is vital to maintaining this. in its own time of crisis, during the 90s, instead of 'pulling the ladder up' on workers' councils, cuba expanded and doubled down on its participatory democracy. i think if any nation has succesfully followed lenin's theory and example, it's cuba, and the mass workplace and municipal democracy that the cuban communist party has invited should be the model for any future socialist revolution.

and quite frankly the reason why MLs will 'take power' after the revolution is because marxism-leninism is the only revolutionary socialist ideology with a plan and ability to take and maintain power over the bourgeoisie. i think one thing reading lenin will very much clarify is that the socialist state is not something that is built after the revolution but a continuation of the revolution -- lenin explains aptly the marxist position that, having taken up arms in order to dethrone the bourgeoisie, to not establish a marxist dictatorship of the proletariat is to throw aside those arms that have already been wielded and used. 'not setting up a worker's state' isn't inaction, but a deliberate choice to be disarmed and helpless in the face of foreign intervention or counterrevolution.

and this is also why i think that while solving the (very real and dangerous!) spectres of bureaucracy, of revisionism, of socialist militias becoming police forces "special bodies of men apart from and above" the people instead of "self-acting armed organizations" of the people is a vital and pressing question for marxism-leninism to address in both theory and practice, it is just as vital to note that only marxism-leninism can succeed to the point where this becomes a problem--only marxism-leninism has shown the historical ability to put the workers in a position of political supremacy that they might risk losing to these flaws and missteps.

& seriously, don't be sorry for asking questions. any questions in good faith are welcomed on this blog, because i'm a communist and i do in fact think it is my job to explain communism to people. have a nice day & don't be so down on yourself!

[dyns33]

A Silly Dream

Another idiots in love with Morpheus and female reader.

"… What did you just say ?"

Sometimes Y/N forgot that Dream of the Endless wasn't human, and therefore didn't think like a human. He had great difficulty communicating and understanding that there were things he shouldn't say or do if he didn't want to hurt people.

The problem was that even when she remembered that, she also remembered that he was an old being, so normally experienced and wise, the prince of stories and words, who yet kept behaving like a selfish, spoiled child who never learned from his mistakes.

"I just said I couldn't stay long for our meeting."

"No, after that. And, what 'meeting' ? We didn't have an meeting, it was you who came to my place."

"As with Hob Gabling every hundred years, I meet with you once a year, for you to give me your impression of the new dreams and nightmares, and in exchange I let you read an unfinished book from my library. But I am very busy and it will be difficult for me to stay more than an hour today."

He was really telling her that for all this time, more than a hundred years, their relationship was not at all friendly, but hardly professional, a simple obligation, which annoyed him but that he had the kindness to fill in each time ? Oh, Y/N felt really honored at that moment.

"… You're a jerk."

"I beg your pardon ?" wondered Morpheus, visibly very offended.

"I said you're a jerk. It's because of the kiss, right ? It's your way of telling me that I shouldn't have, and that I'm very lucky that you keep coming to see me instead of punishing me ?"

"You know I have to come see you."

"You're a real jerk. Go away, since you're so busy."

His face still impassive, Morpheus stared at her for a long time, as if he still didn't know what he should do, before standing up without saying anything and leaving.

The kiss had been stupid, Y/N agreed to admit it.

It had happened two years ago now, when she had just finished her review of the last nightmare he had created, and Dream was trying to explain to her why she was wrong in her reasoning.

It could have happened much sooner, because her heart had been beating for him and only for him for decades already, but before that day, she had always known how to keep her feelings buried deep inside her.

But this time, without her being able to explain why, while she admired his eyes deep as the ocean, his skin pale as the moon, listening to his lulling voice, Y/N had not thought, and she had kissed him.

Dream of the endless went silent. He had looked at her as if she had just stabbed him, and of course he had left without listening to her excuses, not finishing his sentence, but leaving her a book, because he had only one word.

She had strange dreams after that, where she was in a labyrinth, then in a castle, then in corridors, and always she had the feeling that she was looking for something without really knowing what.

Sometimes she saw Dream, sometimes a cat, and she began to follow him, never being able to catch up with him.

The following year he came back, they didn't talk about what happened, and everything seemed to be back to normal.

It hurt to think that all of this was actually just an obligation for him. Y/N had met Hob several times. She knew that Morpheus was really bad with people, since it had taken him more than half a millennium to admit he had a friend, but she had also heard of his lovers, and so she knew that he was not incapable of feelings.

There had been the secret hope then that he liked her, at least a little. It was over now.

The next year, when he showed up on her doorstep with a book, Y/N wondered if he was more mean than stupid, or the other way around.

"I thought I told you to leave. I know you're terribly busy."

"The competition is indeed quite exhausting, but everyone else has given up for the day."

"Oh, you have a moment for me in your schedule ? Too kind. No, wait, we have a meeting, I forgot. Well, I'm busy. Goodbye."

"You do not want…"

"Bye." she repeated, closing the door in his face without taking the book.

It was the first time she hadn't taken the book. If he wanted to, Dream could have appeared in her apartment, or in her dreams, to scold her and throw the book at her, but he didn't.

Y/N didn't know if she was happy or disappointed.

Meanwhile, the bizarre dreams continued.

This time, she was in the gardens of his castle, in the Dreaming. She knew it, because she had already been there. It was because of this stuff that she felt she was more than an obligation.

There were a lot of people in the gardens, some looking human, some not, and they were all looking for something.

Tired, Y/N decided that this time she didn't feel like running, and she sat down on a bench. A wing sound told her that a little spy had decided to join her.

"They all look ridiculous, don't you think ?"

"I don't know who they are or what they do, but I guess."

"They participate in the competition, of course." Matthew said with a desperate tone. "It's been so long now, what's it been, four years ? Five ? I don't know. Some like you have a point, others are starting to despair a bit. I wish they all despair and stop. The boss is tired."

"… What do you mean by 'I have a point' ?"

"The rules are simple, one kiss, one point. Two kisses, two points. Three kisses, the hand of the Master of dreams. None of them asked for his consent, wicked ones. Neither do you, I'm a bit disappointed, young lady. You're the least bad, but still. He was hurt, that was not good manners."

"Matthew… Matthew, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

The raven looked at her like she was stupid. Then he realized she must be really stupid.

"No… That can't be true ! You two are really the same. Two idiots, you deserve each other ! Idiots ! He was hurt, but happy ! He was waiting for the other kisses during your little dates in the Waking !"

"You're talking about our more or less professional and obligatory meetings that he doesn't have time to go to ?"

"What ? What do you mean by… He said something stupid, right ? Of course he said something stupid. You do stupid things, he says stupid things, when you could just kiss. God damn it ! He was grumpy last year, and sad this year, because he thinks you don't want to compete anymore. But you don't know there's a competition ! And you don't want to see him anymore, not because you don't like him, but because you think he doesn't like you ! Boss ! Boss, you really kill me sometimes !"

Y/N woke up not sure if she had dreamed or not. Of course, she had dreamed, and all dreams were real, but she didn't know if she had talked to Matthew, or if she had dreamed that she was talking to Matthew, which was not the same thing.

In one case, she could continue to hope stupidly. In the other, she was just plain stupid.

She got her answer when she came home from work one evening and found Morpheus on her couch. He looked smaller and more fragile than usual. Tired, as his raven said.

"I thought we already had our meeting this year." she said taking out her jacket, not knowing what she should do, or what he was going to do.

"We didn't. You were busy."

"Ah, yes. That's right. Tea ?"

"No, thank you."

Usually things were very simple. They greeted each other, talked quickly about the past year, then Y/N talked about her dreams and nightmares, saying why she liked them or not.

This time, they said nothing, sitting next to each other. Of course, he had brought a book, placed between them. She didn't know if she should talk about those weird dreams.

It was a new surprise when he spoke first.

"You're near my sister's realm lately."

"Which one ?"

"Despair."

"Oh. How is she ?"

"What do you think ?"

"I don't know, you are not really dreamy yourself. I mean, you are, just when you are not talking. The talking you is a real nightmare. But I meant, how is she, as in is she alright ?"

"I must say that I don't know."

"You should call her to ask, she's your sister. Except if she's a bad sister. I guess it's not my business. How are you ?"

"You never kissed me again. Why ?"

He was back, the child with his big deep eyes, his innocent look and his dangerous words. How could he say such important things without the slightest hesitation ?

Y/N found the courage to meet his gaze after taking a deep breath.

"I don't know. Maybe because you have to come see me, and you clearly didn't like the first time I kissed you."

"I appreciated that. I would have fully appreciated it under other circumstances, but at that moment I thought you were acting like the others, in order to win the competition."

Matthew wasn't wrong, they were both a bit stupid, and mostly unlucky. All of this was mainly a problem of bad timing, and communication. If Y/N had acted sooner, and if Morpheus had known how to talk, there would never have been any problems.

"Following your entry into the competition, I am obliged to join you, in order to give you a chance to steal two more kisses from me, under the same conditions as the first. All the others who succeeded having it done in the Dreaming, I do not have to meet them elsewhere."

"… So you've been obliged for two years. But before too, since you impose one meeting per year."

"I told you, I'm very busy. I wanted to make sure I can see you at least once, as much as possible, so it seemed safer to set a specific date."

Damn, he was a jerk. A lovely jerk, a sweet idiot, a pleasant fool.

"And so… You want to kiss me ?"

"I'm not allowed to give kisses, you have to take them. It's the rule."

"I don't like that rule. I didn't kiss you for that, I should have asked your permission, and I'm not going to do it again, that's wrong."

"So you don't want to kiss me." he whispered, looking disappointed.

"I don't wish to force you. I won't steal another kiss."

"You could ask me."

"And would that change anything ?"

"I can't give kisses, but I can give you permission."

During their little conversation, Matthew had been very clear, clear as he always was and much more than his boss who gave him a headache. Silently, for three years, Morpheus had been patiently waiting for Y/N to kiss him again, silently giving her his consent.

He had been too proud or too stupid to understand that he had to verbalize such things.

"Morpheus, I love you very much and I don't care about this competition, can I kiss you ?"

"You can." he sighed with relief and what looked like a smile.

This kiss was much nicer than the first. Probably because it had been desired for more than two years now. Y/N would have liked it to last forever.

"And… For the third one ? Do I have to wait until next year ?" she asked nervously, keeping her hands on his shoulders, thinking he would leave as soon as she let go.

"You can take as many kisses as you want, my love. You can take everything you want."

"Dream… My Dream…"

It was difficult to know what happened in the Dreaming at this moment. No doubt that Lucienne and Matthew announced to the other participants that they could leave because they had lost. Then the wedding planning began.

Y/N hadn't thought about marriage. She had only thought about Morpheus, silly Morpheus, and all the love she had for him. They would need to discuss all of this. But right now, she was too busy kissing him again and again, and him not devouring her with his endless passion.

"I'm glad it's you." he whispered against her lips. "I have to go now. We'll see each other tonight, I'll wait for you."

Being a man of his word, he left a book on the sofa before disappearing. A love story with a happy ending, maybe because he knew they would be fine, or just because he hoped they would.

Y/N read it before going to sleep to join her future kingdom, and her stupid prince of dreams.

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

Lmao I had thoughts after thinking about how modern Vox's voice sounds in Hazbin Hotel and have a hc dump that might be up your alley.

I can't hear any noticeable markers of a 50s accent, as opposed to characters like Alastor or Zestial, who definitely sound like they came from the Era they died in. The idea of Vox changing how he speaks in life based on what's trending in media. Possibly even learning a Transatlantic accent just as it's going out of fashion, then adjusting to the new styles of the 40s and 50s as they rise and fall. In death, it's only natural that he keeps up the habit.

Vox amused the first couple times someone is taken aback at how "modern" he sounds when he's working out deals in the 70s or 80s. A potential business partner / victim mentioning that they expected him to sound more 50s and Vox rolling his eyes because "Obviously you don't understand what we do here, then. The 50s are long gone, motherfucker. Try to keep up." Maybe even pulling out, or making a show of considering pulling out of a deal because Vox doesn't do dated. He didn't get where he is by clinging to old shit.

Sure, he can pull out 'the 50s TV show host' or 'the 50s businessman' for the bit, but he hasn't spoken like that day to day in decades. He's not bent up about it either. He sees it as a strength – adapting with the times. (That's showbusiness, baby.)

And sure, there are things he is nostalgic about from his time on Earth, but he'll fuckin' die again before admitting that. Very occasionally he'll drop some 50s slang while bantering with Velvette or Val, but it's always "ironic" – usually after Vel has called him an old fuck. If there are prints or fashion that he's fond of from Before, he wears their modern "retro" counterparts.

The closest he'll get to admitting nostalgia for "dated shit" is being pleasantly surprised while eating at some place run by sinners who also died in the 50s and making a side comment about how "most of these places doing the 50s diner thing are full of shit but they nailed it."

On VoxVal: The only time any vestiges of his real voice from Before coming out being when he's high or tired out of his mind with Valentino. It's always in private during his most unguarded moments. Vox calling Val dollface or some other 50s ass pet names out of a habit he forgot he had buried deep down somewhere. Val thinks it's funny when it happens, but also kind of digs it. Vox won't specifically request it, but occasionally 50s pin-up is involved when they fuck around. If Vox happens to be real fuckin into it when the pin-up is period accurate, that's his business.

(@tvhostfromhell )

OOOHHHN IT CERTAINLY IS UP MY ALLEY~ MMM FOOD, DELICIOUS 🩵❤️

I'm totally subscribing to the idea that Vox's need for relevance and admiration would push him into actively controlling even something as "automatic" as the way he speaks. Reinventing himself every time to adjust to the situations in a way that is the most profitable for him. No wonder he's so evil; if you put so much effort into shaping yourself to others' liking, you eventually grow to resent the people you perform for. God, he's so repressed. If Val realized that nostalgia is Vox's guilty pleasure, he would go out of his way to indulge it, that's for sure.

I always feel stupid giving such a short answer for long asks but honestly there's nothing I could add? You are brilliant, thanks for sharing this!

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

First impressions

main masterlist

older!eddie munson x popstar!reader

note: takes place october 2023

word count: 1 k

Y/N L/N’s voice was a constant in Eddie’s house with his daughter, Isla, being a huge fan. He most likely listened to Y/N’s album more than the singer herself had. And as soon as Y/N L/N had announced her tour Isla had been begging for tickets. And one thing about Eddie is that he would do anything for his little girl, so he patiently waited for when the tickets would go on sale. And when they did, he was busy. Of course.

Eddie, even though he has been out of the limelight for a decade now, he never stopped working in the industry. He now was a producer, and god he loved it, he may have loved it even more than being a recording artist. 

So of course he was working with one of his favourite clients, finishing a song they had been working on for a while now. Working past their set hours of today. 

He had only learned he missed the tickets, completely forgetting it was today, when Isla comes barrelling down the stairs of their New York penthouse.

“Dad! Tickets were today! Did you get us some?” Isla said, hastily, clearing having been waiting hours for her Dad to get home. 

Eddie on the other hand can’t believe he forgot, it’s just been the only thing Isla had been talking about for the last few weeks. He felt awful, he never wanted to disappoint her. So he lied. 

“Of course I did, Sweetie!” What else was he supposed to do? When Isla jumped into his arms in joy, he almost didn’t even feel guilty. Almost, because now he had to think of a way to get himself out of this. 

“Oh, my god! Thank you, Daddy! I have to go tell Jenna!”

As soon as Isla was out of Eddie’s sight, his slime slipped right off his face. He had to jump right into action. Being in the industry helped, but being a legend to the industry helped more. Eddie emailed his team, to try their best to get tickets, spare the cost. When they all came back empty handed, he went onto his next order of business, getting in contact with the woman herself. Now he couldn’t exactly get into contact with her directly, he messaged her team. Which in his opinion was close enough. 

Y/N’s team had responded first thing the next morning, sharing a more than enthusiastic response, saying he and his daughter could even have backstage passes. At that Eddie couldn’t wait to tell Isla, not only would she be going to Y/N’s concert, that would also get to meet her idol.

-

Today was the long awaited day, the day of Y/N’s concert. It wasn’t only Eddie and Isla that were excited for tonight's show, Y/N’s team had told her today that Eddie Munson, a rock legend, and his daughter would be attending her show. Y/N always gets nervous before shows, but knowing that Eddie Munson would be in the crowd and that she would be meeting him after the show, caused an unforeseen amount of worry to form in Y/N’s stomach. 

But as usual all the nervousness and worrying thoughts left as soon as she played the first note of ‘emails i can’t send’ as the concert began.

-

Eddie did not expect to enjoy the concert that much, the music itself wasn’t exactly his style, but it was the presence that Y/N had on stage that captivated him. And it was at this point Eddie realised he had never seen a picture of Y/N before, and god was she gorgeous. She had this beauty that ran deeper than just her looks, her smile redacted warmth and her kindness shown through when she talked to the crowd. 

Eddie naturally felt awkward about his attraction towards her, she was easily 20 years younger than him, his son had a better shot than he did. But that sure as hell didn’t stop the thoughts that came into mind when Y/N sang her more explicit lyrics. 

And with Eddie’s new found attraction towards Y/N, it only made him nervous for their meeting after the show. 

-

Eddie and Isla were currently walking down the hallway they were directed to, with Isla leading the way. And when Y/N came into their view standing at the snack table, drinking a bottle of water, Isla ran up to Y/N not being able to contain her excitement. Eddie in the meantime, having a reaction to seeing Y/N of his own. Eddie froze, his breath caught in his throat.

“Hi! Oh god, I can’t believe I’m meeting you! Can I have a hug?”

“Of course, sweetie. You’re Isla right?” Y/N said, pulling Isla into a tight hug.

“Yes. I can’t believe you know my name.” As Isla was having an existential crisis, Eddie spoke up, finally having the courage.

“Hi, I’m Eddie. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yes, you too! My parents love your music.”

“Oh, that aged me.” Eddie joked back, with no real offence in his voice. Though he did place a hand on his heart to seal the deal.

“No! Please, you’re not that old. You’re what 35- 40” Y/N said, looking into Eddie’s eyes, her cheeks spread in a wide smile.

“Now I know you’re kidding.”

“No, really I’m not. How old are you?”

“46.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

While the two had their little back and forth, Isla recovered from her crisis, and watched the two adults that were clearly both into each other. So of course in true Isla fashion, she did everything she could to make her idol, a possible new step-mom.

“He’s single too.” Isla blurted out, she’s never been good with filters.

“Isla-”

“Is he?”

“Oh- I- I’m not- you’re not-” Eddie stutters, not knowing exactly how to respond to that.

“Well, I’m staying in New York for a couple weeks, you could call me?” Y/N says, having no idea where this new found confidence of hers is coming from. But nonetheless runs with it, grabbing a napkin from the snack table the trio was standing by and writing for number on  it before handing it to Eddie.

“Um, I have to now. It was so lovely meeting you Isla, and it was great meeting you Eddie..”

[fanficsformyfaves]

I Tolerate It, So Don't Blame Me

Loki Laufeyson x Fem Ex!Reader

WARNING: SMUT 18+, ANGST, Hickeys, Marking Kink (R Receiving), Oral Sex (R Receiving), P in V Sex, Exhibitionism, Rough Sex, Body Worship (R Receiving), No Protection (This is fictional, you are not, WRAP IT UP) Mentions of Break Ups, Turbulent Relationship, Confrontations, Insecurities

PREFACE: You were not only the God of Mischief's ex and the mother of his child, you were also the love of his life. So, it should've come as no surprise to you when his new girlfriend showed up to your apartment building, angry after finding out he was still in love with you

A/N: Flashbacks In Italics!

Loki was recruited into the Avengers and Sylvie is his new girlfriend in this A/U!

Sylvie deserves better :,(

And yes, this is combining 2 Taylor Swift songs cause it goes so well…all too well

I had just put my son to bed, when his tired little voice asks me something.

"Mama, is daddy coming this weekend?"

I look up from tucking him in with surprise.

"Um, I'm not sure"

I was...or I thought I was. Loki and I were together for over a decade and had our son four years ago.

Our relationship wasn't perfect, but we made it work. In spite of the long nights that consisted of screaming matches and the other going to bed angry, we would eventually talk it out and get right back to normal. Was it easy? No, but we knew that we made each other better people. Nothing in life that's worth keeping was gonna be easy.

Our main issue was him not making enough time for me and our child. I understood splitting his time between working with the Avengers and going back and forth from Asgard would take up a lot of his days, but we always got through the rough patches together.

You miss a couple dinners and forget some errands, sure, I could forgive that...but the final straw was when he'd forgotten our son's birthday.

Long after the party was over and everyone had gone home, I still sat in the living room in tears, after having had to put my own crying child to bed.

"He forgot. He really forgot", I thought to myself.

Just then, I hear the front door open and in walks Loki, making his way towards me on the couch.

"Hi, darling", he kisses my cheek.

That's when he noticed the popped balloons and confetti scattered all across the floor.

"What did I miss?"

"What did you miss?", I repeated,

Standing up.

"Loki, do you know what day it is today?"

"Friday"

I close my eyes, sighing before wiping my eyes.

"October twenty-third"

He takes a moment to think, when the realization hits him.

"Shit", he whispers to himself,

"Yeah...shit"

"(Y/N)-"

"He was so excited to blow out the candles with his dad", my voice shakes.

"I know-"

"Do you?"

Not having anything else to say for himself, he simply muttered.

"I'm sorry"

"It's not me you should be apologizing to", I say,

About to walk off, when he takes my arm.

"I'll make it up to him-"

"You always say that, but you never stick to your word. Look, I'm tired of being second place to your job, we both are. Do you even remember the last time we had dinner together? Or even tucking him in for bed?"

I could see the tears beginning to pool in his eyes. I shake my head, before pulling my arm away from him.

"Time got away from me, the team-"

"I don't care about the team! I care about us! Our family!", I yell,

Catching him off guard.

"I've stood behind you on everything and this was the one thing that I needed you to show up for. I've put up with your shit for too fucking long and I can't do it anymore. All we do nowadays is fight and I can't tolerate being taken for granted over and over again. I won't"

"What are you saying?", he whispered,

"I'm saying I'm done", I shrugged.

His gaze softened and his shoulders dropped.

"(Y/N)-"

"You need to go", I sob,

"Please, don't do this. We can talk about it, we can work things out, I promise, I will do better-", he tries pulling me into an embrace,

Only to be pushed away.

"We tried and nothing's worked, even if we go to bed now, I'll still feel the same way in the morning-"

"I don't want to leave-", he says,

Wrapping his arms around me, as I kept trying to push him off.

"Loki, go"

"I can't"

"Please, go, I can't do this again"

"I can't!", he cried,

"GO-"

"I CAN'T!", he shouts,

Slowly falling to his knees, as he held onto my legs and hid his face in my stomach.

"I can't", he wept.

My hand goes over my mouth to muffle the sounds of my sobs. I eventually pull away from him and walked back towards our once shared bedroom. It was the hardest walk of my life. Knowing I was walking away from him.

"When I wake up", I say over my shoulder,

"Don't be here"

It's been almost a year since then and it still hurts to think about. It didn't help that our anniversary was coming up either.

I often fall back into wondering if I'd done the right thing. Did I? Would I ever know?

"But, I promise I'll ask"

"Does daddy not love me anymore?"

It shattered my heart to hear him say that.

"No! Baby", I say,

Softly cupping his cheek.

"Your father loves you so so much. It's just his job that keeps him busy"

He sticks his pinky out, making me chuckle. I intertwine mine around his, after wiping away a stray tear.

"Never think for one second that we don't love you"

Just as I placed a kiss atop my son's head, I hear someone yelling outside my apartment building.

"(Y/N)!"

I recognized that voice. It was Sylvie. What was she doing here in the middle of the night?

"Mama?"

"Shhh, go to bed, baby, I'll be right back", I shushed,

Leaving the apartment and locking the door behind me. The elevator takes me all the way down to the lobby and I made my way outside.

"Sylvie-"

"What did you tell him?!"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Don't play stupid with me, what did you tell Loki?"

"Nothing! I haven't spoken to him for weeks!"

"Horse shit"

"I haven't!"

She sighs, holding her forehead.

"Why? What happened?"

She sniffles and using her sleeve to wipe away her tears.

"Sylvie, I know we aren't friends, but you can tell me"

She scoffs, looking back at me.

"You can", I reassured.

She shakes her head, taking a seat on the curb. I let out a deep exhale, before joining her.

It was tense. I could tell she was holding something back and it only added to the anxiety that was making my stomach turn. After a few deep breaths, she finally breaks the uncomfortable silence.

"He said your name in his sleep"

I'd never felt my heart drop so fast. My eyes widen, as I turn back to her.

"What?"

"Last night. I heard him", she nodded,

"Sylvie", I exhaled,

Shutting my eyes, whilst shaking my head.

"So either that means he's been sneaking behind my back with you or-"

"He hasn't, I swear"

"...Then what I'd been suspecting is true", she muttered her breath.

My eyebrows meet in confusion, wondering what she meant by that. She finally turns to meet my gaze and in the street lamp's glow, I could make out her defeated tired eyes looking back at me.

I knew that look. I had that look not too long ago, which meant what she had to say was nothing short of painful.

"He still loves you", she wept,

Causing me to shake my head.

"No-"

"Then why?", she shrugs.

How was I possibly meant to respond to that?

"You know...whenever he tells me that he loves me, I would be so overjoyed...but for some reason, in the back of mind, I never truly believed him", she confessed,

"And then I thought to myself 'Well, why would I? She was his first love and the mother of his child. How could I ever compete with that? She's beautiful and smart and strong'. Deep down, I always knew that what we had wasn't real, as I am still fighting the ghost of you that will forever live in his memories"

I was speechless. To hear her say all of this was gut-wrenching. She didn't deserve this and I knew that.

"I am so sorry"

"You have nothing to apologize for", she says,

Getting back on her feet, as I did the same.

"Sylvie, I assure you that whatever we had was over the moment we broke up"

"Maybe...but not for him", she smiled sadly,

Giving me a tight embrace, before walking away.

I couldn't just go to bed after that. I had to talk to Loki myself. Whatever he did to us was one thing, but Sylvie didn't deserve this. I went back up stairs to get my son, not bothering to get dressed and dropped him off at my parent's house on the way to the Avengers Tower.

I submitted my personalized key pass, which allowed me inside and took the elevator all the way up to Loki's quarters. I pushed past the double doors and find him standing at the floor to ceiling windows.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?", I spit,

Walking up to him.

"I'm assuming you heard", he says,

Without looking away from the city.

"Sylvie didn't deserve that. She loved you!"

I was met with nothing but silence. All I could do was sigh in frustration.

"Why?! Why did you have to ruin another good thing for yourself?! She was perfect-"

"But she wasn't you!", he snapped,

Turning to face me.

"You of all people should know that no matter what happens, I would always choose you"

I could feel the tears gather in my eyes.

"I tried to let go, but I couldn't", his voice goes quiet,

"Despite my best efforts and even while being with someone else, all I found myself doing was wishing it was you"

I shake my head, as a lone tear made its why down my cheek.

"You should've thought about that before you took me for granted"

He cups my face, resting his forehead against mine.

"That was my greatest mistake...and I will never forgive myself for it"

"Loki-"

I couldn't stop myself from growing weak at his touch.

"I love you. This has always been true"

"I never knew what I had until I'd lost it", he added,

"You hurt me...and you hurt our son", I wept,

"And for that, I am so sorry. I will never stop regretting the things I'd done to you both and if given the chance, I'd change before it was too late, but I am begging you now. I will never forsake your hearts again, please", he pleaded.

There were so many emotions coming at me from all directions. Anger, sadness, confusion...but also a sense of solace. Solace in knowing that he had finally recognized his mistakes.

"If you'll have me...I will never hurt you or our son ever again"

"How can I be sure you mean it this time?", I questioned.

In that moment, the God of Mischief pulled away and kneeled before me, placing a hand on his heart. I couldn't help but feel a strong sense of Deja Vu.

"I meant every word", he reassured,

Taking my hand into his.

"I've lost you once. I will not make that same mistake again"

I searched deeply into his eyes and all I could find was sincerity. For the first time in a long time, I was finally sure.

"Loki"

I pulled him back onto his feet and cupped his cold face.

"I love you too...I don't think I ever stopped"

He chuckles slightly in relief.

"That's all I've ever wanted to hear", he says,

Before pulling me in by the waist and pressing his lips against mine. The kiss started off mellow and soft, but it quickly grew heated. He picks me up by my thighs and effortlessly wrapped them around his waist. He ended up

My fingers sneak into his black locks, grasping at the roots and causing a delicious groan to escape him.

Using his godly strength, he lifts me up higher into the air, now throwing my legs over his shoulders. With a flash of his magic, I was now completely naked up against the glass.

"People will see", I say out breath,

"Let them", he grinned,

"Let them envy the way I ravish your beautiful body, knowing they will never get the chance"

I could feel myself grow wetter at his comment.

"By the looks of it, you don't seem to mind either", he teases,

Before kissing the inside of my thighs, slowly making his way towards where I needed him most. He wrapped his soft lips around my bundle of nerves, making me gasp at the sensation. I was being tasted like I'd be the last thing he'd ever have. A man on death row, savoring his final meal.

"It has been to long", he mumbled against me.

"It has", I whined,

As his skilled tongue drew circles over my clit again and again, till the knot in my stomach began to tense. I missed how easily he made me melt.

My fingers snuck into his hair once more, holding on for dear life. His own rubbing up and down my slit, before slipping themselves inside and pressing against my sweet spot. I could feel him grin at the wanton cries and moans that spilled out of me.

It was more the obvious that I was already about hit my peak.

"Close already?", he teased,

Continuing his ministrations.

"I must taste your release at once. Come for me, sweet girl", he demanded.

That was all I needed to hear.

I came with a moan so loud, I was thanking my lucky stars the walls were sound-proof.

Still, coming down from the euphoric high, he lets me down gently. Firmly holding my weak frame to steady me. Once he realized it was going to take a while for my legs to calm from there incessant shaking, he picked me up and laid me down on the sofa.

"Tonight, I will make up for lost time", he mumbled against my lips.

"I will show you just how deep my everlasting devotion for you lies"

With the help of his magic once again, he causes his trousers to disappear, along with his boxers.

His hard cock aching for attention.

"Do you see what you do to me? How desperate and needy I am for you?", he growls in my ear,

Causing my skin to raise in goosebumps. He takes the tip and rubs it up my already throbbing entrance.

"I've missed this so much", he confesses,

Before thrusting into me and ripping a cry from the depth of my chest. Without giving a moment to adjust, he began pounding into me at a merciless pace.

By this time, the sun had already began to peak from the horizon and the room smelt of sex and sweat. It was now his turn to yank at the roots of my hair, exposing my bare neck for his hungry teeth.

"I will mark you and claim you as mine once more", he mumbled against my warm skin,

As he repeatedly slammed into my g-spot. It didn't take long for my next orgasm to build, as my legs were already threatening to snap close and all I could do was scream out his name again and again like a fallen prayer.

I could tell by the rhythm of his hips faltering that he wasn't far behind either.

"Meet me there, darling. Come for me", he groaned,

As we both were thrusted over the edge. He spills himself inside my clenching walls, letting his head fall back at the overwhelming pleasure. Out of breath and well-spent, he collapses on top of me and wraps his arms around my waist.

We lay in the comforting silence for a moment, till he found the strength to pull out of me and lay me atop his chest.

"Yours"

I look up at him, as he brushed away a hair stuck to my forehead.

"Always"

[the-nerdiest-insanity]

So, I have too many Dead Boy Detectives ideas and not enough time and motivation to write them. These ones are up for grabs, but I'll let you know if I ever do revisit any of these

Edwin and Crystal have to pose as a couple for a case, and neither is happy about it

There's some case involving an elite restaurant or some place where only couples can get in. Crystal pulls strings to get them in, but Charles and Niko are off investigating something else. Edwin was held back to search their books for anything. That leaves only Edwin and Crystal forced to act as a couple to get in

5 times the boy’s “old married couple” tendencies came out, and 1 time one of the boys noticed it

Could be little things like "that's Edwin's spot," or "Charles always puts his backpack there" to bigger things like being undercover on a case and accidentally winning a best couple competition

Crystal (and Niko) learning from Charles that the Cat King and Monty were just the latest in a line of broken hearts that Edwin has left. Edwin has been completely oblivious to all of them

Just love the idea of oblivious heartbreakers and Edwin definitely never notices anyone's affections unless it's very clearly spelled out for him

Desire wants to know why their sister is so fascinated with Edwin, so they catch him while he’s in Hell. Getting a confession where Desire is taunting Edwin til he spills everything… Only for Charles to be standing there, coming to rescue his best friend. Desire’s work is done, and they leave, and the boys must deal with the aftermath

Thinking like House of Hades style where Desire is more heard, but not seen as Edwin talks about Crystal and how much he is frustrated by her because he envies her. Highly recommend looking up the House of Hades Cupid Scene to get the vibe I'm talking about.

One thinks they’ve been dating for years vs we’ve never been romantically involved no matter how badly I’d love it trope with Charles and Edwin. Charles is convinced they’ve been dating for like a decade or two while Edwin is completely oblivious and badly pining. Charles “We’ve been dating for 20 years, but Edwin doesn’t like labels or touch, so he’s my best mate, and I keep my distance” Rowland vs. Edwin “I’d walk back into Hell to taste your lips and hear you call me love” Payne

Another trope I just adore that I think would be interesting with the boys. Especially since Charles just thinks it's because of how Edwin was raised or that he's just like that, and not realising the disconnect. Then, Edwin thinking the exact same about Charles. The best miscommunication version

One of the demons Edwin gets transferred to is Crowley (a token of appreciation the higher-ups say). So, Edwin gets dragged along with Crowley to stop the apocalypse (Charles would fit in there too, idk how)

Just want more Good Omens crossovers. Edwin would love to finally use his detective skills to help Crowley and Aziraphale and also finally get some fresh air. Crowley is done with Hell, but has too much of a heart to just send Edwin off to someone else who'll hurt him. Plus, Aziraphale gets attached, so what can he do

Edit: forgot to add this one originally and it's a crime

Crystal, Niko, and Charles get out that Edwin likes a boy and all come to the wrong conclusions about who

Edwin gets over his crisis faster and the others feel comfortable enough to tease him about being open about his first crush. He gives them very little information, but they all think of someone else. Charles thinks it's the Cat King, Niko thinks it's Monty, and Crystal thinks it's Charles. Chaos ensues as they all try to figure out what's true.

[resisteverything]

Plot holes in Hazbin

Angel is rape victim, has been intended to be so since before the show aired. And yet when Pentius grabs all four of his arms in the pilot, he doesn't react at all, as though he has no trauma that could potentially be triggered by an antagonistic man forcing his arms into place.

Camilla makes weapons. She owns angelic weapon material. She is likely ancient since she is a well established figure in hell, where people regularly live for decades and some of the first sinners still reside there. It is so strong that it's the only thing that can kill an Angel. In the finale they have a whole army's worth of this stuff from knifes to guns to shields to things I forgot about, implying that it's pretty common stuff. And yet after thousands of years of hell existing and being invaded by angels, no one ever thought to use an angelic weapon on an angel, even by accident?

Vaggie is an angel and was hit with one. She could have just remembered that and told charlie instead of asking Carmilla. Also Charlie could have just asked her what hit her eye.

[orchidsangel]

Recently imagined Jason and y/n, his ex, meeting again after a few years. Still obviously caring about each other. Eating cake alone at the apartment and awaiting the New Year together. Not wanting to say that this is the least lonely, however sad-looking, night they've experienced since they split up.

(jumping off a cliff bc i missed the glaring "new year" part of this and was like "i'll get to this later" so sorry beloved, also this got more angsty than i intended.)

Exes to lovers with Jason is always in the back of my mind somewhere, eating away at my sanity. Just the idea that he loved you so hard he had to let you go, knowing the life he lived wasn't suitable for you. You told him you didn't mind, that he was so important to you that you could put aside the constant worry that would sit in your stomach like a rock every time he was off being Red Hood. You said it was fine, but he saw the way bags appeared under your eyes after too many nights of staying up for him, how you forgot to eat when he went too long without contacting you, and how the tears would slip past your lashes when you were patching him up.

At the end of it all, you had begged him to stay, telling him over and over how much you loved him. It killed him to tell you that that was the reason why it was ending, because you loved him too hard, and you were neglecting yourself because of it. He was sick, wondering if he'd made the wrong decision, wondering if this would only make things worse for you. So, despite the fresh ache in his heart, he still watched out for you, determined to make sure you thrived without him, and thrive you did.

It felt like it had been ages since the last time he saw you that couldn't be mistaken for stalking. Watching you from rooftops and alleyways, rushing fights to make sure he could see if you got home safely and intervene if there were any threats. It became routine for him to hang up his helmet at night once he knew you were safe in the confines of the apartment you once shared. What wasn't routine was you knocking on his apartment door at exactly eleven forty-seven pm on New Year's Eve with a sad-looking store-bought cake in your hands and an even sadder look on your face.

"I know we're not together anymore, but…"

Splitting a whole cake between the two of you on New Year's Eve instead of having a typical dinner had been your tradition for years. Jason took it very seriously, planning the cake in advance for weeks, testing different flavors, even going as far as calling you once in the middle of a fight, asking if you preferred chantilly or sponge. It was stupid to most people you told, but to you and Jason, it was the perfect way to end the year. Now, you stand before him, holding a cake that could never compare to the decadent black forest cake he had made the last time you'd spent New Year's together.

You look down at the cake and then back up at him, the familiar gleam of water in your eyes. He takes the container in one hand and uses the other to pull the door open more so you can come in. It had been a while since you'd been there last, but everything was the same. A wall with an extensive collection of weapons, a stack of books that only collected dust when he was gone for long periods of time, and a framed picture of Jason and Bruce from his robin days.

"How'd you know where to find me?"

"Lucky guess."

Not a lucky guess, the first place you'd told him you loved him.

He roots around a drawer, pulling out two forks and handing one to you. Silence hangs in the air, several year's worth of unspoken feelings lingering with nowhere to go but up. he pops the lid off the container and gestures for you to take the first bite, another tradition that came with his hours of cake-making; he'd always insist on you having the first taste so you could give feedback and you only ever had positive things to say. Now, the weak taste of vanilla paired with a dry crumb, and your mouth turns downward into a frown.

"I don't think it's that bad."

"You'll eat anything."

"True."

No, it wasn't that bad. In fact, before you'd met Jason, this was something you probably would've treated yourself to when life decided to be good to you, but he had spoiled you, given you so much more than you even knew was out there, and it wasn't all material.

Three minutes to New Year's now, and approximately six bites taken out of the cake, five from Jason, and you're ready to part ways again with you leaving him this time. There's still time to make a run for it and ring in the new year without the baggage of your ex hanging over you; there's still time to pretend your world wasn't shattered when he left.

"Why are you here? Why not spend New Year's with your friends?"

"Friends?"

"The people I always see you with when I-"

"Watch me?"

"Am on patrol."

"Right."

"Why aren't you with them?"

"Not friends, coworkers."

"You're with them all the time."

"Workplace comradery."

"So, friends."

Thirty seconds now, and the words you still haven't said are on the tip of your tongue and in the back of your mind, egging you on to admit the feelings you've been sitting on for what feels like forever. He beats you to it.

"Please come back to me."

"I'm not the one who left."

Fireworks go off outside, signifying the beginning of a new year, and you and Jason stand across from each other. Physically, only the kitchen island stands between you two, but emotionally, you're still miles apart. You can't hear in his words how much he needs you back in his life, how hard it is for him every night to not climb in through your window and find his spot in the bed you'd shared like he'd done so many times before; and he can't hear in your words how the wound he left in your heart never healed, how it never even started to, and how through him leaving, you found out that time doesn't heal all things.