#divine intervention would have to come into play for either of these two to get a happy ending ngl KJASBJDKHSAJ

[ultalliance]

Will not, without question, die of natural causes. Absolutely going to be gunned down somewhere and somehow. Fighting nazis or fighting something supernatural. Maybe even both. Will go out swinging.

Gwen Stacys don't have a good track record of dying from old age, do they?

[circeyoru]

Collection of Overlords _ Part 7 = Requested

[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 1.5 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 (here) — Part 8 — Part 9  — Part 10 — Part 11 — Part 12 — Part 13 — Part 14 — Part 15 — Part 16 — Epilogue

Song Used: "They're Only Human" ; in Death Note: The Musical (I've attached a link here, but there's also a video format later on when that part comes)

You hummed a tune while reading through a book and laying on your black cloud platform like a beach chair. Your little moment only cut short when your book was suddenly snatched away. You tilted your head up and saw a pair of silver wings with golden highlights before you saw your book burst into flames in the robber’s hand

“You sure took your time.” You teased as you got up from your comfortable position, opting to sit on your platform. “Trick.”

“Come on! Like you don’t know why!” The being exclaimed enraged with their wings getting puffed up, they took a deep breath and sighed deeply. “Your little Hell made too much of a commotion, Sil. And I told you to call me Noir!”

You shrugged, “That’s not fitting for a character such as yourself, Trick sounds better anyways.”

Trick was similar to you. Actually, he was your opposite. You being the true ruler of Hell makes them the true ruler of Heaven. Of course, unlike how you keep your identity in the shadows, theirs was more well known. Trick was the God that everyone made a big deal around

If one were to see you two together, they’s say the two of you were night and day, good and evil, yin and yang. Not in terms of element, but in appearance as well

While Trick has a pair of lovely giant wings, you had none and would use a black cloud platform to ‘fly’ in some sense. While Trick has hair above the shoulder, you had hair below it. Trick’s eyes remain opened while yours are closed. Trick dons a causal and chill look while you had a more formal and elegant look

Still, whatever you two may appear, those weren’t important as the personalities you two had. If Trick’s name wasn’t an obvious indicator, they are not the holy entity the humans and angels painted them to be

Like you, Trick is absent from a direct presence in your respective realms. However, they love playing around with ‘divine interventions’ or ‘sacred messages’ from the God of this world. Truly, no one was aware of a balance. Even there’s Heaven and Hell, and God is in Heaven overseeing ‘his children’, what of hell?

Yes. You are the ‘God’ of Hell. Though either of you like that title. Since Trick was the one more in the open, you love teasing them about it every time you meet. To you, it’s truly entertaining to see them groan and whine over it

“So~ How was the sleep? Good?” Trick leaned over as their wings flapped from time to time to keep them hovering in the air. 

“Like Hell it was, you put me out of commission for no reason and with no warning! I have souls to watch over unlike your lazy holiness.” You snapped with your eyebrows furrowed.

Trick raised his hands in ressurender, “Hey, I was out of commission as well! It’s not a one-side thing.”

Your eyes squeezed even tighter as if you’re glaring at the jerk of a partner. “You started it!”

The two of you were Supreme Beings of your realm and entities as holy and cursed element. You can’t have one without the other. While it’s true that you were weak to holy powers, Trick was weak to cursed powers. You two were each other’s weakness no matter the situation

And the two of you aren’t as immortal as people would think. The two of you can be killed and healed by each other. Killing involves falling into a deep sleep when one side dies and healing involves transfering the other’s wounds onto themselves to heal more naturally as wounds can only be done by the opposite element

If one asks how to describe the two of you. You both were inseparable, can’t have one without the other. The concept of yin and yang comes to play

You are yin, in darkness there’s kindness. You are the unknown, you are negativity, you are darkness. You collect and control the souls marked for Hell without letting them go so long as they worth something to you. Even when you do it wasn’t for mercy and you’ll cage them into a torture unlike any other

Though, you were kind. You offer advice to those that deserve it and give opportunities for people to change. Why else would you let a soul be redeemed and let it leave Hell to go to Heaven? Why else would you allow Alastor to remind at the hotel even after your presence is back? Why else would you give Husk that little hope at a better future?

Trick was yang, in light there’s evil. They are the known, they are positivity, they are light. Trick judges and provides the souls marked for Heaven without letting them feel any negativity and only joy and happiness. Giving those worthy souls that lived life accordingly to enter a paradise fitting of Winners

Though, they were wicked and twisted. They enjoy a good trickery here and there, opting to let their high ranking angels deal with everything rather than rule as the ‘God’ they were named. They cared for none but their own interest and entertainment. If anything, Trick doesn’t see souls to be worth anything. To them, souls were nothing but actors on a stage to perform a good show for beings that was you and them to enjoy watching

“Fine, fine. I won’t do that again, unless you want a little rest.” Trick smirked as he looked your way. “So how’s your collection?”

“Hm… There will be some changes with what I have now. It’s a work in progress.” You told as you thought it over, “How’s your Emily?”

Trick’s smile widened, “Oh, miserable. But admirable. The sweet thing. She found out about the exterminations and sided with that Hell Princess during court! I told you she’s worth paying attention to.”

You hummed, “That’s what you said about Lucifer and he ended up falling to Hell. I wonder if Emily will be casted out as well.” You sensed the dark aura around your dear long-time friend spike and you turned your head over, “Don’t worry, I know not to accept her into Hell. She’s your prized one. Even if she’s casted out, I’ll push her back into Heaven.”

Trick huffed, clenching and unclenching his fists, “Good. Cause I will so remove those stupid higher angels if they did that to the only worthy angel in Heaven.” He looked over to you as well, “Don’t worry, it’s the same for your collections, I won’t let them into Heaven unless you want them do.”

Your smile widened, “Oh, I’ll never let them go~ But thanks for that safety net.”

You both picked your focus. While yours was on a hand-picked group, Trick focused on that one. Your little soul owning had one amazing benefit that none knew. It was the protection against angelic weapons

Back then when Alastor was hit by Adam’s attack in the chest, the slash should have eaten away at his body and soul. The angelic weapons or steel was created to aim directly at the soul of a being, that’s why it could kill both demons and angels. There was nothing angelic to it, merely a combine of yours and Trick’s power to create something that kills the soul

Now, your protection that to limit the effect of the wound till they can reach you for healing. But the best part was that your Overlords have no soul within their bodies so they wouldn’t be killed! Even if their head was chopped off by an angelic spear, it will just take time to grow back

You’ll never tell them that benefit nor do you plan to let them know about it. That’s why you made your appearance at the hotel. It was the sole reason of healing Alastor on your own terms. You thought of leaving soon later but you just couldn’t leave the poor deer when he was that desperate for your presence

The thing you can’t understand was why Trick only picks the one being to care for. Emily was what their supposed to be honestly. If someone met Trick and it was revealed that they were the God, no one would believe it. There was so much chaos and twisted nature in them that it was impossible that they were God

Yet you as the one by their time since the beginning of time knew the change was because of time. Time changed their view on the world and humans. So many time, they were disappointed that they just gave up and decided to laugh at all the misery. Maybe, you and Trick could switch places

But Trick will never agree because they never liked what you have set up in Hell already, plus there wouldn’t be an ‘Emily’ there. It was proposed once, and Trick shot it down without a thought. So to cure their boredom, there are meet-ups like this

Of course, the two of you end up going to Earth to see what the humans were up to while marking souls on whether they go to Heaven or Hell when they die

Trick smirked and flapped his wings to fly over, and gestures to the humans minding their own business in the city, ♫ Look at how they crawl around, upon the ground, like little ants ♫

♫ Yes, but how they fascinate, ♫ You floated over with your smokey platform, slapping away his hand to touch a mortal, ♫ Confusing fate, With what is merely chance ♫

♫ Isn’t it a laugh? ♫ Trick nudged you.

You pushed him away, ♫ Isn’t it a shame? ♫

♫ Thinking there is someone in Heaven to blame ♫ Trick pointed at themselves. 

You rolled your eyes, ♫ Yes, but even while blaming fate for the lives that they lead. They hope for the lives that they need ♫

Trick snapped their fingers, both of them appearing in a cemetery with a heavy mood in the air. They carried a white umbrella while you carried a black one, staying at the back of the group that was grieving while a coffin was lowered, ♫ Living every day ‘til the day they die. Never getting answers ♫

♫ Yet still asking why ♫ You snapped your fingers and appeared on the roof of a building that oversaw a group of religious individuals praying, ♫ Going through the motions as if there will be a reward ♫

♫ While we stay, ♫ Trick made a bored and disgusted face at the scene, grabbing your hand so the two of you fall, ♫ Eternally bored! ♫

♫ They’re only human. They don’t see ♫ The two of you sang, Trick with their signature smirk and you with a bored look. ♫ Who they are is who they’ll always be. Only human, after all ♫

Trick brought you to a scene in front of a murder scene, ♫ So they push and they shove ♫

You showed Trick a scene with a romantic couple on a date, ♫ With this thing they call love ♫

♫ ‘Til they fall! ♫ You both watched as soldiers fall and their souls going to where they were picked to.

♫ Isn’t it a farce? ♫ Trick shrugged while the scene changed to that of a hospital room with a weak man on the bed.

♫ Isn’t it a waste? ♫ You eyed the crying humans around the man, listening as the monitor beep softer and longer with each pause. 

♫ Struggling to Face what can never be faced ♫ Trick leaned against the wall with crossed arms. 

♫ Yes, but maybe Death can release something more than we share ♫ You blinked at the man as he tried his best to hold the closest family member of his.

♫ I really don’t know ♫ Trick came over, their wing slapped at the man over the face and the lifeline fell flat, ♫ and don’t care ♫

You shook your head while the room bursted in tears and doctors and nurses rushed in, Trick was as indifferent as already with his grin on his face, ♫ They’re only Human. Standing still. Doomed to live pushing boulders uphill. Only Human, after all ♫

With a snap of Trick’s finger, the two of you arrived at a temple with a number of offerings, Trick picked up one and threw it to you then took one for themselves, ♫ So they give and we take ♫

You caught it with one hand and eyed it, then to the elderly women that was bowing to statue, ♫ Hoping someone will help break their fall ♫

Trick brought you to a gang meeting of sorts, the topic seemingly deciding on someone’s death, ♫ They will pray, curse, live, die. Never knowing their Truth is another Man’s Lie ♫

♫ Eat, sleep, love, hate ♫ You changed the scene to one where a group of friends were enjoying themselves in a forest, ♫ Like a Leaf blowing in the Wind ♫

Trick switched to a scene where students are forced to pick a career for the future, gesturing to all the troubled humans for you. ♫ Watch them all vacillate! ♫ 

The both of you sang, ♫ They’re only human. They can’t see ♫

♫ All the fun they could give you and me ♫ Trick laughed darkly while you smiled at his amusement.

♫ Only human, after all ♫ You both continued as you two picked out a wave of souls destined for Hell without another thought while Trick only picked a small group of them.

♫ So they give and we take ♫ You had your palms opened at the vast souls that would be doomed for Hell under your thoughtless choosing.

Trick nodded approvingly over your future collection, a twisted smile forming, ♫ ‘Til their silly hearts break ♫ 

♫ Looking down from above. I’m intrigued by their love ♫ An equally dark smile appeared on your face as you took Trick’s offered hand for a short sway. 

Trick suggested while taking you into their arms. ♫ So let’s play! ♫

You nodded along, ♫ Let’s play! ♫

Trick chuckled while dipping you down, “Hmm, let’s enjoy ourselves with these foolish souls.”

Since the beginning of time, there were two beings. A being that symbolizes light and a being that symbolizes dark. They were two sides of the same coin and co-exist together contary to what humans would theorize or write in their little works of art

“So I’ll assume you want me to put Heaven’s little business on hold? Not that they can do much with a redeemed soul in their ranks.” Trick smirked at you, their wings flapping at their little jab at their realm’s higher ranked angels. “So Hell gets some peace for the moment.”

Your smiled back, eyes peeking open to that revealed a cosmos from within, “Yes, that is much appreciated. There’s gonna be some interesting change in my collection.”

“Love it when your eyes does that.” Trick’s wings opened up to show the view of a night sky.

“Yours is not too bad. Quite the sight.”

“Only a sight for the two of us though. None is more worthy of it.”

“I’ll agree.”

Everything happening on these two beings’ whims and wants, nothing’s done with clear purpose, and anything’s fair game. As divine and just as the humans painted them to be, they are nothing like the holy one that cares for all’s interest from above. As cruel and evil as the humans painted you to be, you are anything but the cold and heartless tormentor of prisoners of Hell

Note: New character!! I'll get to the request that were about this concept in a bit. First! The character design for Trick and you will be out in a moment~

Now then~ You guys feeling op yet?

Oh yeah!! I'm more interested with the song format too!! First time trying this, what you guys think???

Circe Y. 

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (those that don't specify to being in all the works' taglist will automatically be assumed to be in whichever series they comment on)

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala @plutobots @ray-rook @thealienartist @serenity-songbird @galaxydreamer468 @raynerrold @wen01203@hikari-michiko @colecreo @myromanempiree @xsamkuro @yourdoorisunlocked @clavelina @jono723 @cursedcattalastor @an-idyllic-novelist @flamiohotman2024 @rea-grace @myromanempiree @veroneverleft @lousypotatoes @crazysuityouth @jellyedkazoo @wat4r @kiraisastay @thealienartist @chefysawesomeideas @wtvbabes @patronizingbitch @koshi-kazu @craftyperfectiontragedy @scr4luv @chrollobb @mysterypotatoink @callmefe

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

You | Lute x Redeemed!Sinner

Warnings: post season one by two months BUT Adam miraculously survived, Lute was able to get her arm regrown by some divine intervention, Lute being a bitch 97% of the time, Adam being Adam, reader being a sweetheart, strong language, some derogatory nicknames towards sinners, reader is HEAVILY implied to be a bisexual (real queen shit), WxW, probably very out of character for both Lute and Adam — but I've never written for either of them before ✨

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: you were a redeemed sinner, yet Lute still hated you. . . Though soon, things would change for the better.

A/N — Silva is Latin for Forest *** (I know, I'm so creative). The sick meal is something I love even when I'm not sick, but feel free to imagine whatever you want for it :) but remember: ALWAYS WASH YOUR RICE

The sky brightened, bringing along with it the dawn of your first day in Heaven. Having been a long time resident of the Hazbin Hotel, you were as skeptical as the others, but played your part in wanting Charlie's dreams to come true. 

You were the first official resident, though more of an employee by the time Angel Dust came around, and a friend — a damned good one — to anyone who came through those doors. 

It didn't matter who they were. Whether it was Alastor, Husk, or even Lucifer himself, it didn't matter. You were an excellent listener.

Perhaps that was part of the reason you had been redeemed. 

It was possible that the other part of the reason why was because you regretted your singular act of immoral wrath when you were alive and you thought about it every day. 

You had walked the straight and narrow your entire life — married young and planned on having children once you were out of college and had a stable job. . . Then your husband cheated on you with his co-worker and it was as if you were possessed by blind rage. You killed him. 

You didn't kill her — she didn't know you existed, so you let her live. . . Then she found out of your existence rather quickly and karma came in the form of a pissed off woman wearing cheap perfume and fake red bottoms. 

So you crash landed into Hell immediately. No trial in purgatory. Straight into the melting pot of horrendous historical figures that you had been forced to write essays about in High School and people like you, who did one wrong thing. 

Watching the sun rise for the first time in almost ten years, you supposed you owed it all to Charlie. Having her as a supportive friend throughout your stay. 

First to arrive, second to be redeemed. 

The halo and wings were an odd feeling compared to the horns and sharp tail. . . As well as the white, light blue, and gold version of the outfit you were wearing when you ascended. Odd but welcomed. 

“Thank you.” You whispered aloud, sitting on the dock behind the building you had been guided to upon your arrival just hours before, surrounded by the water that was completely unaffected by murkiness or toxic waste. It was the cleanest water you'd ever seen. 

Wind chimes sang in the breeze that slightly rippled the top of the vast lake, distorting the reflected pinks and yellows of the golden sunrise. 

Voices drew closer, yet they didn't matter as the air warmed comfortably, the sun rising higher and higher in the blue sky. 

It was nice seeing blue instead of red. It felt human. It felt calm. 

“[Y/N]?” A voice called out and you turned around to face the newcomer. 

A smile broke out on your face as you came to see Sera with Sir Pentious and Emily at her side. The younger seraphim was buzzing with excitement. 

You carefully stood so as to not fall into the lake, approaching them slowly. “It's good to see you again, Pentious.” You said, hugging the former snake demon. 

He returned the quick embrace and blushed, just like he did when you were both in Hell. You and Charlie were the first to give him a chance. “You too missss [Y/N]. . .” 

You smiled at him once again before turning to Emily, who seemed to be the one temporarily in charge. “Welcome to Heaven! There's so much for you to see and do! But first, do you have any questions?”

“Where exactly in Heaven are we?” You questioned, gesturing to the lake with trees to either side, but with water for as far as you could see. 

“You're at the Silva Lake house.” Sera spoke up. “It was built when Sir Pentious arrived, as a way to prepare him for the eyes of the other angels who never set foot in Hell. . . As well as a potential sanctuary for any other sinners who may be redeemed along the way, such as yourself.”

A sanctuary for the redeemed made perfect sense when you thought about it. Heaven had to do something to not only make up for the mistake in leadership that led to the annual Extermination Day, but they couldn't just throw former sinners into society without getting them used to the new conditions. 

It would be like bringing a knife to a gunfight. . . They'd be ill prepared and it wouldn't look good for anyone, especially the higher-ups. 

“So, what do we have to do?” 

This time it was Emily who replied to you. “Just be here and show us that you have no problem learning how things work up here. . . It's not too complicated, but there are a few new rules in place after recent events. . . But don't worry! I'm sure you'll both be fine!” She smiled brightly, clapping her hands together. 

You could only hope everything would be alright.

Two weeks after your arrival, you had begun to think that you could handle the new realm in which you resided. 

At the Silva Lake house, you had a set routine which consisted of a lovely breakfast with Sir Pentious in the breakfast nook, morning lessons with Emily, a silent nature stroll with Sera, a trip to the city — just barely inside the limits — purely so you could see what you'd eventually be joining, and dinners alone because Sir Pentious was allowed to stay in the city longer than you and go further because he had been there longer.

It was nice to have a schedule, but having the same one every day was beginning to bore you. At least Charlie's schedules had made room for stuff outside of trust exercises. . . Stuff like hotel movie nights, family dinners, and fun outings. 

Two weeks and you thought you were ready. A five minute meeting was all it took for that false sense of readiness to fly out the window. 

One look in the golden eyes of the woman who would've killed you less than three months ago, had it not been for Vaggie stepping in, was enough to make you feel as if your leg was still stuck under the burning pile of rubble with an angelic blade mere inches away from your throat. 

The pain and any physical indication of it happening was long gone, but the memory was still there as if it had just happened moments ago. 

Yet you still regarded her as if she was an inhabitant of the hotel — with a smile and an open mind. 

Your welcoming smile was met with a glare of disdain from the exorcist angel, who looked as if she'd try to kill you again if you so much as breathed wrong in her direction. 

Shockingly, Adam, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the whole meeting, was more open to conversing with you than Lute was. This was all part of Heaven's new plan. 

Forgiveness. 

Sera wanted you to forgive Lute for the part she played in almost killing you and your friends. 

She wanted Sir Pentious to forgive Adam for ‘killing’ him during the battle. 

And she wanted them to forgive the both of you for the roles played in the battle, despite you avoiding the battle where you could. 

“I sincerely apologize for the role I played in the battle that cost you many angels.” You said, catching Emily giving you two thumbs up from behind the two. 

“Now, Lute. . . Apologize to her.” Sera ordered lightly. 

The exorcist crossed her arms. “No. Why should I have to apologize to a lowly sinner?” She scoffed. “Not happening.”

You frowned. Lowly sinner? Ouch. . . 

“She is redeemed, Lute —”

“Is she? She looks the same. A wardrobe makeover doesn't change who someone is. And she practically reeks of Hell.” Lute turned her nose up at you. 

“I think that's enough for this evening, Sera. . . Adam, Lute. . . I apologize once again and hope you can find it within your hearts to forgive me.” You then turned away and walked towards your room.

“Sure thing, Bitch!” Adam called out just before your bedroom door closed roughly with a click. 

Lowly sinner? Reeking of Hell? 

The words stung. . . You should be mad, or even mildly frustrated. . . But you're more disappointed. Even when Adam, Lute, and the other exorcists were attacking your friends, you had been nice. . . But they didn't seem to care. It felt like you were redeemed for nothing. 

So you laid on your bed in silence, with tears unwillingly cascading down your cheeks, until your usual dinner time rolled around and Emily coaxed you out before she and Sera left. 

As you warmed up a prepped meal, you noticed that Adam and Lute were still there at the lake house, though neither paid any mind to you. Not while you milled about the kitchen. Not while you ate. 

The only time they paid any attention to you was when you walked across the far side of the living room to reach the bathroom for your evening shower. Even then, Lute only glared while Adam made derogatory comments about joining you in the shower. 

You ignored both of them, and when you came out of the bathroom, they were no longer in the living room, so you assumed they left. 

It became evident just hours later that they, in fact, hadn't left. The dead giveaway was the loud rock music that played from the TV in the living room, during a time you knew Sir Pentious was asleep — and the former snake demon didn't care for rock all that much. He was more of a classical music guy, but he could also get behind r&b. 

And you knew with the time, Sera and Emily wouldn't be around for another four hours.

You wanted to ignore it. Oh you tried so hard to ignore it, going as far as to cover your head with one of your pillows. . . But you could still hear it. And now you couldn't fall back asleep. 

Trying was pointless. 

Your morning started two hours earlier than it usually did, which unironically gave you time to do things that you couldn't do with the tight schedule. . . Like having morning coffee by the lake as the sun rose, breakfast that wasn't cereal or freezer waffles, or even a nice little swim with a shower after.

“What the fuck, dude?” You heard Adam's tired voice yell from the opposite side of the lake house, the music immediately muting. 

Lute's more awake voice could be heard through the walls, but you were unable to make out anything she was saying. . . So you sighed and went on to make a nice breakfast, in hopes it would help set the mood for the day. 

A good mood for a good day — hopefully. 

Adam and Lute weren't allowed to leave until all was forgiven and peace was made between the four of you. Orders from the almighty creator who hadn't taken too kindly to Sera, Lute, and Adam attempting to play God in his absence. 

What shocked you the most was Emily canceling lessons for the foreseeable future, purely because she could, saying ‘you've been at this for a while, you deserve a break so you're not burnt out’.

It was almost laughable. 

After the disruptive morning of rock n’ roll, you went back to the regular schedule for the most part. . . But before you knew it, you had been in Heaven for a month and your limits were being tested. 

Your food had gone missing from the fridge. 

Your laundry had gotten mixed up, despite being separated by your hand. . . Which resulted in two of your brand new favorite shirts to shrink in the dryer — you still wore them anyway.

Things you set down were never where you placed them. 

At first it drove you crazy — you thought you were losing your mind. Until Sir Pentious had come to you one late evening and revealed something he noticed. 

Lute had been either eating your food or throwing it away. 

Lute had been the one switching your laundry around. 

Lute had been the one moving everything you set down. 

You couldn't understand why someone would go to such lengths to inconvenience you when you had been so accommodating for the both of them. . . So you ignored her. 

And it pissed her off. 

How dare you ignore her existence while she was cursing yours? 

One evening, you were making a nice, hearty meal because you and Sir Pentious had fallen victim to the early autumn allergy fueled cold. It was something your parents would've made whenever you were feeling under the weather — you were just glad the ingredients were in the house. 

Adam entered the kitchen without his mask and opened the fridge as you were opening the cabinet that was filled with bowls and plates. 

“Whatcha makin’, Hot Stuff?” Adam questioned, closing the fridge. 

You glanced at him confused before opting to reply, rather than questioning anything he called you. At least he wasn't calling you sinner scum. 

“Dinner.” You croaked in reply, using a pot holder to lift the lid off of the large pan where thinly sliced and seasoned steak was simmering in a homemade mushroom gravy. You then gestured to the pot of fluffy white rice next to the pan of cauliflower. (Again, it's one of my favorites — so delicious.)

“There's plenty for you and Lute to join us, if you'd like to.” You almost lost your voice by the end of the sentence, but the first man heard you. 

“Yeah, okay. . . It looks more edible than that shit in the freezer — whatever the fuck that is.”

You would've laughed if you knew you wouldn't have landed yourself in a coughing fit. So you settled for a smile as you plated up the food. 

“It looks disgusting.” Lute sneered from the doorway. 

Immediately, your smile dropped and your fork clattered onto the wooden table. “Then don't eat it.” You snapped, taking your seat as Sir Pentious slithered into the kitchen. 

“This shit looks good as fuck, Danger Tits.” Adam shoved a fork full of steak in his mouth and released a downright sinful moan. “You're missin’ out.”

Sir Pentious nodded in agreement, eating what was on his plate relatively quickly. You appreciated Adam and Pentious trying to make things better, even if Adam was using his own way to make it seem so. . .

But you were slowly losing your patience, which became evident by the way you verbally snapped.

Lute didn't speak to you — or rather speak down to you for a few days, but she lingered while Adam got to know you better. . . She seemed rather put off with how things were going. 

Like how when you couldn't reach something, completely uncomfortable with using your new wings, Adam would grab it without stopping whatever conversation was going on. 

Or when he'd offer to make dinner (or buy dinner for everyone) just so you could have a break. 

Or even now when you were draping your towel over a chair on the back deck, prior to your swim in the lake, and he happened to be out there in the sun. You heard him mention something about you being ‘hot as fuck’ in your swimsuit, but you mostly ignored him, aside from a light blush dusting your cheeks. 

From him, she learned your favorite color, your favorite animal, your favorite everything, basically. . . And when your eyes found Lute, she was glaring at Adam, not you, for once. 

Rather than questioning it, you accepted it and found your way into the lake where eventually, they both joined you at a distance. You felt oddly alone, since Sir Pentious had decided to stay in — he still wasn't feeling the best, so you urged him to rest, claiming you'd be fine. 

Lute seemed to be attempting to drown Adam and he took it in a playful way, yelling and laughing loudly while she splashed him and jumped on top of him — something that seemed out of character for her. 

Though they both soon went underwater and just as you decided you were ready to go in, you were pulled under and came face to face with Lute. Your eyes widened as your heart beat rapidly in your chest. 

She wasn't glaring at you. . . There was no animosity behind her gaze, her hands locked onto your arms. She smirked after what felt like an eternity and pulled you back up to the surface with her. 

“Stay away from her, Adam.” Lute practically growled, holding you close. 

This was odd. It felt so wrong, but it felt so right having her arms wrapped around your waist. She hadn't touched you until then, so you weren't sure what to make of the situation.

“So you finally —”

“Shut up!”

Adam only smirked and shot out of the water, going to dry off on the deck. 

“I suppose we need to talk?” You questioned softly. 

Lute nodded and released her hold on you so that the two of you could reach the deck once more. 

You sat in the chair that Adam had previously occupied and she turned one to face you, taking a seat there. She stayed silent for a few minutes, watching you dry your hair and wrap your towel around your shoulders. 

Lute then took another moment to admire the way the late morning light caught on your face, before she spoke. 

“I was wrong about you. . . There's sinners who don't deserve good things and then there's you. . . I — you. . . You've proven yourself and. . . I'm sorry for how things have been since I showed up.”

You smiled at the apology, finally looking into her golden eyes. “You're forgiven. . . But if I might ask. . . Why did you hate me so much?” 

She became nervous, you could see it. 

“I thought you might be as bad as the regular sinners — I know what you did when you were alive and I know that's why you went to Hell. . . But these last few weeks showed me why you wound up here.” Something akin to adoration laced her tone and you blushed under her gaze. 

It was such a quick change. . . But it seemed like a good one. It seemed like common knowledge that she wasn't the greatest at expressing emotions, having been so deep in her work for the longest time.

Before you could open your mouth to reply, your heart bursted as a new sensation graced you — Lute's lips on yours. You felt your heartbeat quicken once again and your face heated up violently. 

She pulled away a moment later, stuttering out an apology. 

“I shouldn't have — hmph!” 

You immediately shut her up with another quick kiss before leaving a sweet peck on her cheek once you had removed your lips from hers. “I didn't mind. . . If this has the chance of becoming something, I want there to be communication. . . If you're okay with that. . ?”

“That's fine. . . [Y/N]?”

“Hmm?”

“We forgive you. . . I forgive you.”

You grinned and stood from your seat, reaching your hand out for Lute. “Wonderful. . . How about some lunch?” 

She snorted and shook her head, but still stood and took your hand, allowing you to guide her into the lake house for lunch. 

She sat beside you while everyone ate, shutting Adam down the moment he looked like he was going to open his mouth and say something stupid — which was often. 

You were happy and hopeful. Maybe this could grow into something beautiful. . . Maybe this could be your forever relationship. 

Just maybe. 

Additional A/N — if anyone wants the Fem!Redeemed!Sinner x Lute story to continue, requests are open! Give me ideas!

[legacyofmanwich]

Legacy of Manwich {2.3} Divine Intervention

But yet, thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter. Or rather, a disease that's in my flesh, which I must needs call mine.

Welcome back to the Legacy of Manwich, where I'm not tired of King Lear references yet. Last time, King Martin's twin daughters grew from filthy, malnourished infants into filthy, malnourished toddlers, and also Lillie is pregnant again. Yay! More kids to neglect!

King Martin: "And so because of the flashing purple madness, custom cars were deleted from the Downloads folder and your father will never own the bitchin sports car he deserves."

Yeah, this update comes on the tail end of me having to clean out my downloads folder for the first time. The only vehicles anyone's going to be allowed to drive are the ones you build yourself, because I don't see no dealership around this dump-ass town.

The custom food gets to stay, though. That looks tasty as fuck.

Lillie: "Remember that scene in Breaking Dawn where Bella makes the fried chicken when she's pregnant?"

Yeah, I guess?

Oh, right, another baby. It really is only one this time, I checked! No quads here, thank God.

Martin looks like he's ready to give birth himself. Lillie's attracted to fitness, so he'll have to shape up soon. I'm in no rush, because they bone enough as it is.

Shitty walls-down picture because I need to properly convey the fact that the girls absolutely beeline for the bedroom every time these two have sex. They'll be in the other room skilling or playing with toys and drop everything just to come watch. A bit creepy, if you ask me.

Regan: "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, THIS IS VERY EDUCATIONAL!"

Optimistic of you, game, that you think they'll get a birthday party. They're lucky if they get fed most of the time. (Also Lillie and Martin have literally no friends to invite lmfao)

I don't know how this even happened, since Martin rarely interacts with either twin.

Regan: "DAD'S TAKING ME INSIDE, GOOD LUCK WITH THE WOLVES BITCH!"

Goneril: "What? Huh?"

Tamiko: "This is the best day of my life."

Lillie would sacrifice her firstborn to join a wolf pack, guaranteed. Don't worry, Martin came back out and brought her to the nursery, where the girls will be safe!

God: "No, fuck this, this has gone on long enough, I'm smiting your shitty children."

AAAAAAHH NO NO NO NO WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!

Lillie: "DON'T WORRY I GOT THIS!!"

I'M SO GLAD SOMEONE AROUND HERE IS COMPETENT

OKAY MARTIN CAN YOU WAIT A FUCKING SECOND?

Pictured above: this fucking terrible legacy

The girls survived, miraculously, and aged into children. Between Lillie's painting and Martin's income, I was able to build them a new, nicer house and tear the old one down!

Regan: "WHERE'D MY FUCKING HOUSE GO?!"

Goneril: "Sigh... I'll miss that house."

The house you spontaneously combusted in? That house?

Despite Goneril's stupid face here, I think they're turning out super cute. They're both incredibly active and nice, but where Goneril is shy, neat, and playful, Regan is outgoing, sloppy, and serious. You'd never be able to tell they're both nice sims, because they sure don't act like it.

BABY TIME LET'S GO LET'S GO LET'S GO

Here's Cordelia! And I am hereby closing the baby factory, no more unprotected sex. I'm watching you sluts.

Goneril: "Wooo! More King Lear!"

Regan: "Dad if you ask us how much we love you when you're old, I'm not gonna hold back, you're fucking terrible."

King Martin: "That's fair, honestly."

Lillie: "Meet your daughter, hon!"

King Martin: "Wow, uh, cool. Super cool."

Huh? That's all? Where'd the baby go?

Lillie: "Beats me."

You too?

Cordelia: "Is this just kinda the norm around here, or...?"

Not really. Martin's paying attention to Regan and Goneril, that never happens.

King Martin: "EEEEEK CORDELIA'S GONNA READ MY DIARY!!!"

Cordelia was born less than an hour ago, Martin.

And so she stayed there for pretty much her whole infancy. :(

Regan: "Listen up, dad. This place sucks, and me and Goneril are gonna run away. Don't try and stop us."

Goneril: "Yeah, we mean it, dad."

King Martin: "lol okay bye!"

Regan: "ALRIGHT HERE WE GO WE'RE RUNNING AWAY! FOR REAL!"

Alright, girls, I'll see you in the next update. Have fun.

[andreafmn]

Running in Circles | Chapter 9

Word Count: 3.6K

Summary: (Y/N) Rossi is following in her father’s footsteps by joining the BAU team as a profiler. The girl genius knew almost everything but she could have never predicted falling for Aaron Hotchner, her boss, and her father’s friend. in their world mutual feelings are not enough to push them together. Will all the adversities and obstacles they face pull them together or push them apart forever?

A/N: can't believe it's been over a year since I updated this story. It was one of the first I ever posted but quickly got disheartened by it as I tried to follow the show's timeline (which is non-existent, honestly). I'm trying to get through season 6 as fast as I can because I've already written chapters for afterward, but I need to tie it into the show. Honestly considered putting the story on hold but I got the chapter done 😊😊 Also need to go back and edit this story, especially regarding the POV

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As if by divine intervention, (Y/N)’s phone started ringing. The vibrations matched the fluttering of her heart as she prayed that Hotch could have been thinking about her at that moment as well. Maybe then she could trick herself into believing that fate was playing its cards right.

“Hey, baby girl.”

“Derek,” she sighed quietly, trying her best not to voice her disappointment. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“You mind some company for tonight? I got a bottle of whiskey with our names on it.”

“Know what? After the day we just had, sure.” She looked down at the pan of lasagna and decided if she couldn’t enjoy it with Hotch, she’d enjoy it with a friend. “I’ve got some lasagna going in the oven we can eat.”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes.”

After the phone clicked, she decided the most prudent thing would be to send Hotchner a text message thanking him for the food and saying she’d update him on everything tomorrow. After everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, she needed a moment of calm and clarity. A moment with certainty rather than mixed signals and stolen glances. She just needed a moment to breathe.

As any evidence of the day shed from her skin in the shower, a loud knock rang through the house. She quickly stepped out of her bathroom and slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie before she ran down the stairs to be met with Derek already inside the kitchen, digging a fork into the piping hot lasagna, with Spencer staring at our friend as he ate like a maniac.

“You know, if you let it cool down a bit, you can savor the taste,” Reid chuckled.

“I know,” he spoke with a full mouth. “But I wanna get drunk tonight, and I won’t do it on an empty stomach.”

“There’s some garlic bread in the toaster oven if you need something that will soak up the alcohol,” (Y/N) laughed as her two friends came into view in her kitchen. “And it’s good to see you’re putting those emergency keys to good use.”

“Sorry, (Y/N),” Spencer responded quickly. “Derek said you wouldn’t mind. We waited five minutes outside.”

“It’s fine, Reid. But you could’ve checked who was at the door.”

“Well, I didn’t want to overstep,” he shrugged. “It’s not my house after all.”

“Good to know you have boundaries, Reid,” she chuckled. “Not that they stopped either of you from letting yourselves in.”

Derek only grumbled in response, too focused on serving the plates and stuffing his mouth. (Y/N) headed to the front door, unsure of who else could have decided to drop by. And though a part of her wanted it to be Hotchner, she knew better than to live in that delusion. He was back in his home with his son, while she had a house full of friends and him on her mind.

“‘Em,” the woman smiled as she opened the door. “Derek invite you too?”

“As a matter of fact, he did. But I’m guessing he didn’t tell you I was coming over.”

“I’m just glad you didn’t use your emergency key as freely as those two boys.”

“Well, you did say we should feel at home,” Morgan grinned. “I’m just doing what you told me to.”

“First time you follow the rules, Morgan,” Emily teased. “Although I’d rather you guys break into (Y/N)’s house than mine.”

“Geez, thanks, Em,” she chuckled. “You’re lucky there’s enough food and booze to go around. But don’t go too crazy. We still have work tomorrow.”

“As if you’d ever let us go hungry,” Emily laughed. “Your Italian blood would never let you.”

“All I need to know is if there’s anyone else that will show up out of the blue.”

“Not that I know of,” Derek shrugged. “Now open up that bottle, I’m thirsty.”

By the time midnight rolled around, Emily and Derek had gone back home. They had eaten enough and drank enough the exhaustion was making their eyelids flutter. And all of them knew that the longer they stayed, the harder it would be to make it back to their homes. Only Spencer was left, curled up on the sofa, still nursing the same glass of whiskey from the start of the night. His eyes were squeezed shut, a hand over them blocking the overhead light.

“You okay, Spence?” (Y/N) asked as she sat by his head, resting it gently onto her lap. She ran her fingers through his curls, massaging his scalp softly. “You got a migraine?”

“Something like that,” he sighed. “They’ve been going on for a bit, but lately, they’ve been worse. The pain is unbelievable, and it makes me sensitive to everything around me.”

“Have you gone to a doctor? This could be something serious, Spence,” she worried. “I have a friend that might be able to squeeze you in. She’s a neurologist and…”

“I’ve got it handled, (Y/N),” he chuckled softly. “I made an appointment for later in the week. I just have to power through the remaining days with sunglasses and pills.”

As soon as he mentioned the pain, a question popped into (Y/N)’s head that she did not want to ask. It was composed of words that could only bring back horrors from his past and the mistakes he was still paying for to that day. The last thing she wanted was to resurface that horrible period, but she had to know. For his sake, she just had to.

“I haven’t taken Dilaudid,” he said before she could speak. “It hasn’t even crossed my mind.”

“How did you…?”

“You were thinking too loud,” he responded as he grinned slightly, his eyes still closed. “And you’re the only one that still asks.”

“I’m sorry, Spence. I don’t mean to be so pushy, she sighed as she stared at the way her fingers ran through the brown of his hair. “If you don’t want time to ask, just…”

“No. I’m grateful that you do.” His free hand searched for hers, squeezing it softly as he enjoyed the warmth of her skin. “I sometimes feel that the team goes out of their way to pretend that part of my life didn’t happen or that it could never happen again. But it did, and it could. Still, I know I can always count on you to look after me, (Y/N). Even if I’m a couple of years older than you, you always find a way to take care of me.”

“And I always will, Reid. You’re a part of my family, and I take care of my family,” she responded softly. “Do you wanna stay here tonight? If it’s too bad, I don’t want you driving out there in the dark.”

“Honestly? Yeah,” Spencer breathed. “I don’t think I could make it home right now.”

“Alright, then. Why don’t you head on up and take a shower while I prepare you some tea and get you a cold compress for your head?” (Y/N) instructed. “You can take any of the sweats from the guest room, and I’ll fetch you some migraine pills so you can hopefully get some shut-eye tonight.”

“Thanks, Rossi,” the man smiled, finally allowing his eyes to open, finding that she had dimmed all the lights. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“And you’ll never have to find out,” she smiled. “Now, go on upstairs, and I’ll get started on the tea.”

“Fine,” he jokingly whined. “And can you not tell anyone else? I don’t want them worrying about me.”

“I won’t. Just, please keep me updated.”

“Copy that.”

As he disappeared to the second floor, (Y/N) couldn’t help but worry about her friend. Spencer had gone through things that were unimaginable. And though he came out of them with his life, they had slowly started to eat away at him. She knew firsthand just how debilitating anxiety could be to someone’s body, and it concerned her that he was downplaying his symptoms.

She set her kettle to boil as she searched for her own mixture of sleepy-time tea—chamomile, lemongrass, peppermint, and lavender. From her cupboard, she pulled out the purple and blue mug Spencer had always used since he had claimed it was able to keep his tea warm enough to sip slowly. Because apparently it had always been a big concern of his. After placing the tea infuser into the mug, she drizzled a few circles of honey to the bottom and a sprinkle of cinnamon. And once the kettle beeped, she drowned the leaves and the honey in boiling water.

(Y/N) could hear the shower running upstairs as she let the tea seep into the water, and all she could do was worry. Granted, it was something she did every single day of her life. She worried about her father spending all his time in books and his work and not enough on his personal life. She worried about little Jack having to grow up without his mother and a dad who didn’t quite believe he could do a good job as a father. She worried about Hotch, about what he did or didn’t feel. She worried about the team every time they went out on a case. And most importantly, she worried about herself and how she would ever live up to the people around her. Now, she added Spencer’s migraines to the list. If she ever made it to old age without a heart attack, she would have been very surprised.

Walking up the stairs with the mug and the pills, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She balanced the mug on the flat handrail and pulled out the device to see Hotchner’s name lighting up the screen. Her heart hammered against her chest, making her hands tremble with nerves. It was just a phone call., she told herself. He was probably only calling to thank her again.

“Hotch,” she breathed, her voice croaking more than she intended. “Hey.”

“Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“No!” she answered quickly. “I was just heading up the stairs. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, you don’t need to worry,” he assured. “It’s just that Jack wanted to say goodnight and thank you.”

“Isn’t it a bit late for him to be up?” (Y/N) smiled. “I mean, it is still a school night.”

“I caved,” Hotch chuckled. She could hear the exhaustion still present in his voice, and all she wanted to do was help him. It was all she could do. To him, she’d always be just a friend, a coworker, his colleague’s daughter. “Please don’t hold it against me.”

“I could never,” the woman laughed. “I would have probably caved too.”

“Well, then, I’ll put you on.”

(Y/N) heard scuffling from the receiver before Jack’s voice came through. “Hi, (Y/N),” he said. “I wanted to say goodnight since we couldn’t say goodbye to you. I had a lot of fun this weekend.”

“Aw, buddy, I’m glad,” she cooed. “I loved having you over. You know you’re welcome any time.”

“Thank you, (Y/N)!” he beamed. “But I gotta go to bed now. I have school tomorrow. So, goodnight!”

“Good night, Jack,” she responded. “Now, why don’t you pass the phone back to your dad.”

“Alright. Bye bye!”

“Bye, Jack,” she chuckled. “I think that kid should be heading off to bed now, Hotch.”

“He is,” Hotchner answered. “I knew he’d want to after saying good night to you. I think my son likes you more than he likes me.”

“Oh, that’s nonsense, Hotch. He only likes that I’m all fun. But he loves you. Don’t ever doubt that.”

“Thanks, (Y/N),” he chuckled softly. “I’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

“Even when you don’t have to,” the woman sighed contentedly. “Now, go on. You have to sleep too. It’s not just Jack that is up past his bedtime.”

“Very funny, (Y/N). Good night.”

“Night, Hotch.”

(Y/N)’s chest wrenched as her heart accelerated, already wishing the days before could repeat themselves so she could wake and know that he was there. But there was no point in deluding herself. The man could not and would not ever see her as anything more than what she already was. Even their job would allow it. Nothing seemed to ever align for something between them to work.

She turned to the left once she reached the top of the stairs and headed to the guest room to leave the steaming mug for Spencer to find after his shower but found him already sitting on the bed drying his hair. “Was that Hotch on the phone?” She nodded in response. “You didn’t tell him about what’s going on with me, right?”

“Of course not, Spence,” she said in a low tone as she set the mug on the nightstand. “It’s not my information to divulge. Unless it becomes life-threatening, I won’t say a thing without your permission.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she smiled, handing him the pills. “Anything.”

“What do you think these migraines could be?” The pain behind his eyes was more than visible, it was almost palpable. “I just… what if it’s something serious, (Y/N)?”

“Serious like what, Spence?”

“What if I’m starting to lose my mind?” His voice was frail, trembling at the terrifying thought. “You know, my mom…”

“Don’t go there, Spencer. You can’t go there,” the woman insisted. “We won’t speculate until you have an answer from the doctor. So, I’m begging you, don’t go there.”

“I can’t help it, (Y/N). Either there’s something seriously physically wrong with me, or it’s all psychosomatic. Neither is a good option.”

“I know, Spence. I know. But let’s just not jump to conclusions yet. Not until you’ve gone to the doctor, and we get some type of answer. Until then, I don’t want you to think of the worst-case scenario. It’s not gonna do you any good.”

“Fine,” he sighed as his shoulders slumped forward. “Can I ask you something else? Something that is so off-topic you’ll get whiplash.”

“Go ahead, Reid,” she chuckled softly.

“Do you still have feelings for Hotch?”

The question as innocent, no ill-will behind it. But it still made (Y/N)’s breath hitch in her throat. It had been a long time since any of the people they knew mentioned her less-than-secret infatuation with the unit chief, and it made her heart race like the first time he had confronted her about it. “Yeah,” she muttered. “It’s not something that’s going away any time soon.”

“Have you ever thought of dating someone else? It might help you get over him.”

“I might not be ready for that just yet,” she sighed. “I just can’t seem to stop holding onto hope.”

“I understand. Love… it’s hard, huh?”

“It’s one thing we can’t learn from all the books we read,” she smiled sadly. “But that’s enough talk. The pills should start to work soon, and you need to sleep.”

“Thanks, (Y/N),” he smiled as he got under the covers. “Thank you for caring.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that, Spence. Again, you’re family,” she grinned. “I’ll see you in the morning, alright?”

“Yeah. Good night.”

“Good night, Reid.”

The rest of the night, Spencer’s words floated in her head. She could open her dating pool and allow herself a little venture. Hotch wasn’t waiting for her, nor had he shown a smidge of real interest in her. Holding onto him only hurt her in the long run, making it harder for anyone else who wanted to take the place he did not want. But she couldn’t. Not now. Not just yet.

After a couple of days and a two-night case all the way in Miami, Spencer asked (Y/N) to accompany him to the doctor for the reading of his test results. He was jumpier than usual, his legs bouncing at a rapid speed as they waited for his name to be called. He figured with his fingers, picking at the skin on the corners until she placed her hand on top.

“You won’t have any skin left for our next case,” she chuckled. “Don’t start jumping to conclusions, Mr. Genius.”

“I can’t help it,” he worried. “It’s all I can do. I can’t just shut off my brain.”

“Then, tell me something. Something I might not know.”

“Easier said than done,” he snorted. “You know almost as much as I do.”

“Ah, you said almost as much. So, you believe there are things that you know that I don’t.”

“Okay,” he chuckled. “Did you know that rubber bands last longer if they’re kept in the fridge? The unusual, lightly cross-linked polymer structure of the rubber used to create them react to the cold differently to what people might expect…”

“Right, the chains heat up when stretched, technically shortening them causing the rubber to contract and eventually snapping at the exothermic change,” she mused. “Cooling them would allow for a bigger stretch and life longevity because the release of energy is slower. Nice fact.”

“See, it’s not as fun with you,” he said with a soft chuckle. “The team would have been asking why I would care about rubber bands. You? You go into a simple explanation of thermodynamics.”

“Well, I ask you for a fun fact. I never said I wouldn’t analyze it.”

As Spencer was about to retort, a nurse came out to call his name, telling him the doctor would see him. He got up onto his feet, smoothing down his pants and taking a steadying breath. But he didn’t seem to do more.

“Do you want me to go with you?” (Y/N) quickly offered.

She was met with a soft smile and a gentle nod before they both headed into the office where Spencer’s worst-case scenario unfolded. The doctor told him there was nothing he could see that was physically wrong with him, the scans and the lab work all came back negative. If there was something happening, it was most likely in his head.

Those were the news Spencer did not want. They terrified him, and he let the doctor know. In his own way. “It’s not—I’m not crazy.”

“Crazy? Dr. Reid, I’m not saying…”

“I have headaches. I have intense sensitivity to light. Because there’s something wrong with me,” he asserted, his words spilling out faster than he could hold them. “Physically, not mentally. It’s not that.”

“That?”

“Listen, doctor, my mother’s a paranoid schizophrenic who’s been institutionalized. So I know very well what mental illness looks like,” Spencer continued. “Maybe even better than you, and it’s not that. It’s not.”

“Reid,” (Y/N) called as the man got up from the exam table and left the doctor with a shocked expression on his face. “I am so sorry, doctor. This topic is just… it’s a little hard for him.”

“There’s not much you can do to help someone who doesn’t want to accept their reality,” the doctor sighed softly. “Can you just see that he finds a way to manage his stress and his emotions? I truly believe this might be one of the biggest reasons for these headaches.”

“I’ll try my best, doctor,” (Y/N) smiled. “Thank you for seeing him.”

“No problem.”

She found Spencer waiting for her in the hall, his sunglasses on his eyes and his arms crossed in front of his chest. They remained in silence until they reached her car, the doctor’s pout evident on his face. She knew he was annoyed she had apologized for his behavior, but she couldn’t leave without at least giving a reason for his outburst.

“It’s not psychosomatic,” he stated. “It just can’t be.”

“Spence, we have one of the most stressful jobs on the planet. Day in and day out we see cases that astound even the most seasoned officers. And we get into the minds of the people that commit these atrocities,” she offered. “Don’t you think there is a possibility that these migraines are your body’s way of telling you that you need to balance yourself out?”

“If it was really the job like you say, all of us would be getting these headaches,” he said angrily. “But I don’t see Morgan or Prentiss doubling over because their brain feels like it wants to escape their skull.”

“Everyone is different, Spence. And I know you don’t need me to tell you this. Stress presents itself differently in everyone. Just because we don’t know how they handle their burdens doesn’t mean they don’t have them,” (Y/N) continued, maintaining the same calm tone as she cooled him down. “All I am saying, Reid, is that it might be psychosomatic, and you need to find new ways to handle your stress because I am certain this is not you going crazy. Or it might be something else, and you’ll need to get a second opinion. But regardless of what the outcome is, you can’t just get angry at your doctor because you don’t like your results, and I’ll be with you every step of the way. We’ll find you a way through this, okay?”

His stance finally softened at her words. His arms fell to his sides, and a soft smile tugged at his lips. “I was kind of an ass back there,” he chuckled. “It’s just frustrating and terrifying all the same time, and I don’t know how to process it all.”

“We take it one day at a time, Reid,” she smiled, taking a hand of his in hers. “You’re not alone in this.”

“It’s sometimes hard to remember that you’re you get than me,” he snickered. “I’m pretty sure you’ve babied everyone on the team at some point.”

“What can I say?” she laughed. “I just wanna make sure every single one of you is okay.”

And that was one thing she knew she would do for as long as they would let her. For now, her main concern was Spencer’s well-being. And she was grateful that it was enough to keep Hotchner out of her head.

Next ->

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[robohoee]

very oddly specific ultrakill headcanon post that nobody will probably care about nor has anyone else ever probably thought about (that i am only makinf for the sole purpose of combining two interests)

BUT. assigning ultrakill characters guitars. hi (guitar names in alt)

also i was like half asleep while writing this

V1 and V2

i figured itd only be fitting to give v1 a guitar with a flying v shape (haha get it. bc v. and v1 has wings. flying v. im so funny i know), i was debating between that, a warlock, or a gibson explorer but ultimately decided on this one

as for v2, v2 honestly just seems more like a bass than guitar kinda guy idk, i wouldve went with a bass with a flying v shape like v1’s but i couldnt rlly think of any thatd fit well enough so i settled for the warlock :p still cool as hell tho

(also i feel i should mention, there js a candy apple red variant of the guitar i assigned v1 so that could also be another v2 idea idk)

———

Mirage

ok i have MULTIPLE for her. bear with me pls

mirage absolutely seems like a nirvana enjoyer. she’d definitely have a jaguar or mustang, maybe even a jagstang or just in general a kurt cobain guitar of some kind

(either that or a classic black fender strat tbh, basic but still a good and versatile guitar 👍) ((maybe even a tele???? idk either suit her and how id imagine her playing style would be))

out of all the characters she honestly seems the most like someone who would play LMAOOO she either has just one of the previously mentioned guitars or all of them. no inbetween

———

Gabriel

ok i think this ones pretty self explanatory but

yeah. probably an obvious choice but Come On tell me you cant see him absolutely fucking shredding divine intervention on this (also oh my god this is such a fucking gorgeous guitar. need.)

BONUS (funnier option): he’d have a yamaha acoustic and would only know how to play wonderwall and/or the stairway to heaven riff (he gets kicked out of guitar center all the time and has no idea why) /j

———

Minos

i chose an explorer for him mostly bc the shape just gives me minos vibes???? idk??

in all honesty he doesn’t seem much like the type to play guitar, let alone electric, so i mostly chose this one based on looks/vibes bc i have no ideas for him oops (i feel like he’d prefer more classical instruments like violin, piano, etc.)

———

Sisyphus

again i mostly chose these bc of how they look but honestly? i could see him playing these idk im out of things to say girl help

———

anyways yea 👍 i hope you enjoyed my silly rambling i migjt do more characters eventually but i dont have ideas rn

[foggyfanfic]

What effect do we think fairy tale magic has on world history in the Disney Princess universe?

Weird thing to think about, I know, but apparently (according to a comment thread on reddit) all of the disney princess movies take place in the same universe because that disney junior princess that wears the purple dress apparently summons a bunch of princesses to talk to them in an episode of that show? I assume its so she can ask them how to beat the Firelord without killing him, but that's not actually important. What's important is that this means the Disney Princess universe represents a reality in which fairy tale style magic is real and has a real effect on global politics, so what do we think that looks like?

Assuming that this timeline is correct, the earliest we see magic affect the politics of Princess Earth is in Aladdin when the genie intervenes to make a poor orphan the new heir to the throne of what is apparently a well off kingdom. I watched the cartoon series growing up, but I forget what happened in it other than Jasmine and Aladdin spent their time protecting the kingdom from various sorcerers (I think). So we know that magic can be used to break through class barriers, this is corroborated by Belle and Tiana marrying princes despite not being of noble lineage or even rich (Cinderella is of noble lineage, she's just being abused, so she doesn't count).

On top of that, we know colonialism is still a driving force in global history (Pocahontas) but it's at times either slowed or stopped by magic intervention (Mulan and Frozen 2). It's notable that in both these cases the magic that slows down the colonizers is semi-divine, and native to the culture or land being invaded. So then presumably in the history of alternate fairy tale earth, the age of imperialism still occurred, but the European invasion wouldn't have been quite so universally successful. We can assume that modern alternate China would look very different (spirits intervened against the Hun invasion), but 1920's America still looked about the same (that talking tree from Pocahontas didn't do shit, she is partially responsible for every song I hate from The Book of Mormon).

SPEAKING OF AMERICA! Did chattel slavery still happen in this universe? I mean, it kind of looked like it did, unless alternate Africa is having their own imperialism golden age off screen and its just coincidence that New Orleans ended up racially segregated. But if creatures and spirits from our folk tales are real and active in that universe, well, Africa is a whole ass continent with plenty of their own folk tales. Do we think it... went well for the slave owners? I mean, the Notre Dame came alive to throw one incel into a fire, do we think there's this unseen history of slave owners suddenly being cursed en masse? If Chinese ancestors get the power to come back as spirits and judge your life choices, does that mean Anansi was able to follow some of his people over and start delivering some fable style comeuppance? Tiana treats magic as a known thing, she immediately surmises that Prince Naveen made a deal with "the shadow man" when he starts explaining how he ended up a frog, therefore we can conclude magic is still a relevant force in the modern era. And the racism we see in The Princess and The Frog is all that passive aggressive, plausibly deniable stuff we have today. New Orleans is a relatively progressive city, but according to this site on the history of segregation in Louisiana, racial tension was at a peak in New Orleans in the 1920's. But on Disney Princess Earth, nobody gets up in arms about Lottie wanting to marry a black man, so clearly the advent of magic has pushed society forward on a few issues.

Considering the lions in Africa are apparently smart enough to recite Hamlet, and that talking animals with human level sentience are a known thing in this universe, do lions have a part to play in world politics? Did lions fight in alternate world war two? Striking all that because I don't think Nala is technically a Disney Princess, but it does bear the question: Is there an alternate Hitler, or did he get dragged to Disney-Princess-Hell a la Doctor Facilier? Judge Frodo demonstrated that there is religious prosecution in the Disney Princess universe (Esmeralda was included in the Princess line up when I was a kid so I'm counting her movie), and although they don't show it, we know that a lot of people got killed on his orders. So, we can't rule out that there have been genocides in the Disney Princess universe. But we also can't rule out the possibility that any efforts to commit genocide have been thwarted via fairy, or church gargoyle, or Shakespearean lions.

In conclusion... I will be staying up all night continuing to wonder about this.

[lexicals]

So I'm gonna write this down partially for my own reference and partially bc I'm curious to know what other dms following me think of the concept - curse of strahd module spoilers below the cut here

So long story short the CoS campaign I was running had to be put on hiatus because of inter-group issues, and at this point my plan is that once I've finished running our current pathfinder module, I want to reboot it minus the players that will not be returning for various reasons, and plus the new players that want to join from the pathfinder group.

Now obviously the rub here is that 2 of the 5 or so players have already played this module up to lv5, but the other 3 are coming in with varying levels of knowledge (one person has DMed it, but long enough ago that he doesn't remember most of it, plus a lot of the later sections I've got for this module are homebrew, and the other two know nothing about it other that what I and the other players have mentioned to them). I don't really like the idea of subbing in 2 or 3 new characters to the campaign halfway through, as this will be a completely new dynamic that they'll have to adjust to on the fly, as well as the new players having no context or attachment to anything that's happening, but nor would it be fair to the OG players to just slap them back to level 1 and have them try their best not to metagame.

So, I am thinking. What if I just groundhog day the whole party. They get reset back to the entrance of barovia, but retain all their levels and gear that they've picked up, and the NPCs that were travelling with them (Ireena and Arabelle, in this case). My in-universe justification for this is that one or both of the party members who will definitely not be returning fell prey to the temptations of the dark powers, and tried to kill either Ireena or each other, in order to earn themselves their own demiplane domain (they've just come out of a homebrew mini-domain, so this would be thematically appropriate I think). The third player who is currently a "maybe-depends-on-scheduling-but-probably-not" happens to be a paladin of lathander, so he (in his aspect as the morning lord) and the elven god of dusk whose name I cannot remember right now work together through her to perform an act of divine intervention that results in the reset, and can remove her from play if needed due to the impact of channelling that much divine power. This would be linked to postgame homebrew plans I had linked to a couple of players' backstories (unfortunately mostly the ones that are not returning, but what can you do) wherein shar aka mother night is amassing a cult in her name whose endgame goal is to summon a beast capable of destroying the moon and thus assassinating selune, who lathander & co are allied with. They know that if the cycle begins again with ireena's death/the party falling apart and strahd remains undefeated the party will not be able to leave barovia in order to combat what's happening on the material plane, and they can't afford the loss of time that would occur (I'm thinking it has to be this particular group for prophecy reasons or something idk about that yet lmao). The party get their reset with the warning that they cannot fail again.

This also means that I can justify a hike in difficulty by removing the influence of the morning lord and the sun itself from barovia, leaving shar and strahd more powerful as it becomes a very literal land of eternal night. Aside from that, my plan is to run everything mostly the same as before, with the hope that the old players will be able to have fun being allowed to selectively metagame with their knowledge of events, which they can share with the rest of the group, who also get to experience events they would otherwise have missed. It should mean we get through the content we've already covered fairly efficiently but with room for things to play out a little differently this time, whether that's fixing mistakes from last time or making new ones lol.

I think it's hopefully a fair solution but I would be really interested to hear what other people think about it; my main worry is that it won't have the intended effect and the old players will be bored while the new players feel swept along. Genuinely would love to know what other GMs or even just other players think of the concept!

[jaiyemourningstar91]

Losing, Straws, & Therapy

You ever just get tired of losing? I'm not talking about minor losses like in a video game, rather, major losses like in life? Throughout mine, I've lost so much. It's like an annual cycle. A pattern. Year after year, I just continue losing. And here I am again, another year nearly down, looking back at all I've lost.

Typically, I try not to look back so often, as that's not the way I'm going in life. Yet, it's hard to move on sometimes from what is no longer here. I had a home, needed some work, but it was at least my own roof. A car. Family. My kids...this whole life in the city that now doesn't exist. I lost myself too before all that, which feels like a domino effect happened thereafter. You choose to do something healthy for yourself and break up with your toxic ex and my life gets taken with her. Who would've thought.

But that's not what bothers me the most lately. It's what I feel now that's falling away from me...

You know, my life has felt like I've been desperately trying to hold onto a bundle of straws. There's too many. Different shapes and sizes. And my hands are either too slippery or small? I just keep dropping these damn straws. Reach down to pick one up and drop one or two or several more. It's tiresome.

I'm tired.

Tired of finding myself in the same scenarios year after year after year. It's like a curse and lately, I'm beginning to wonder if I'm the problem. If I'm my own worst enemy. Because to be cursed, a higher power would have to be at play, and I'm not a man of faith. I don't believe in any gods but only their potential to be. Agnostic. I have yet to feel Divine intervention. Yet to experience a miracle. Never witnessed any godly visage. There is no concrete proof for me yet.

So, that leads me to believe, my losses come at my own faults. Which is insane because I try to be humble. I try to lead a pleasant life. I'm a good person even when people don't tell me I am, I know I am. Even when people treat me otherwise I'm still good to them. I try to make people smile. Laugh. Love. Embrace better parts of life. I'm a nurturing soul. Take after my grandmother, whom I lost years upon years ago. Probably the only nurturing adult I ever had in my life...

If she does see me. Looking down on me. I wonder what advice she'd have. I wonder if she'd scold me, even. Clearly, I keep making the same mistakes. Clearly, I must be the root of my own evil. The harbinger of my own desolation.

I keep finding myself here in the dark. Alone. In silence. Wondering. Contemplating. Scrambling for answers. THE answer. What am I doing wrong?

How do I become the solution to my own problem?

Perhaps, perhaps I just need to let all the straws I carry free. Let myself become weightless. And begin again.

All this to say that, tomorrow, I'm going to set myself up for therapy.

[astermcbastard]

Part Two of Vaughn’s Character Dumping

16: You know how sometimes you feel unnaturally cold, shivering, dieing from hypothermia, you may have been possessed by Vaughn.

17: Vaughn’s resourcefulness is at its peak when he sheds his fur, using the excess for any clothing items, giving them a finishing touch, though on rare occasions

18: Originally, his weapon was supposed to be a whip, either being made by the aurora borealis(or have an aurora colors to it)

19: Vaughn has difficulty trusting people a lot, to the extent the nicest thing he’ll say to you upon first encounter is a snide remark.

20: Vaughn still has a pendant made by Willow, keeping it hidden to remember as to who he’s fighting for.

21: Vaughn uses pet names with strangers, saying things like “love”, “dear”, “darling”. The only people who are referred by their fist names are his husbands and other leaders.

22. Vaughn’s encounters with deities have never been positive, with most divine interventions being mostly the gods being pompous and snobby

23. Vaughn’s two left feet when it comes to waltzing, it’s probably his weakest dance type, Antantaru had to learn this the hard way.

24. Adding on to the dances, Vaughn was supposed to be a ribbon dancer, again, this was removed because as he has no aurora whip. In short, no ribbon dancing.

25. Vaughn has a large fear for aircrafts, though not for flying as he has ridden a bat before.

26. Vaughn admired his husbands for playing instruments, Antantaru’s Cello and Ryoma’s Electric Bass. Because of this, Vaughn decided to learn an instrument, but resorted to singing instead

27. Vaughn’s former plan had supposed to be a persona, with the following quote. “The cold shoulder you gave me in my time of need has finally snowballed into your demise, revenge is a dish served iced.”

28. Vaughn’s parents were lawyers, hence Vaughn’s somewhat twisted sense of getting away with things from the government knowing what shadier things they’ve done.

29. Vaughn is the only one of the three people who when using their other methods that get there fast, still have their feet on the ground.

30. Vaughn is a section of my mind, the part of my high ego that sometimes tends to lack and would rather have it as some sort of Icarus mindset where sometimes it’s best to at least flaunt an inevitable defeat.

[the-one-where-casey-watches-tv]

Yellowjackets episode 2.04 "Old Wounds"

Title sequences are so important. If it’s a good one, you shouldn’t have to look any further to get a sense of what the show is ‘about’, in the philosophical sense of the word. I’ve been so impressed with the Yellowjackets title sequence from the beginning, so when they played a different version of the theme song for this episode only, I knew there was a reason. The title sequence is off-putting, jarring, and jumping through time in every way possible from frame sizes to character ages- a fast paced dose of the overarching tone of the show. They really put a lot of work into it, so throwing in a new version of the theme song is certainly deliberate. And doing it for just one episode doesn’t mark the beginning of a new direction in the story, as I thought before watching the next episode; it means this one in particular is significant.

So what’s so special about this episode? I would argue that the confirmation of there being ‘something’ in those woods came and went in season one when pilot Laura Lee exploded moments after takeoff. Leonard the teddy bear ignited for no reason whatsoever, and that explosion is the first major event with no real logical explanation. While that was a blow, and things have certainly been pretty eerie since the shrooms doomcoming party, I think the events of this episode are the real turning point in the Yellowjackets’ time in the wilderness.

Liv Hewson and Jasmin Savoy Brown in "Old Wounds". Image courtesy of Showtime.

A few things happen, but most loaded is Natalie and Lottie’s duel to bring home the most food. The survivors have created such an emotional division into two camps of logic vs spirituality, with Lottie being the fearless leader of the latter, but I don’t think the situation- or Lottie- is that cut and dry. Natalie’s biggest gripe with Lottie is her perception that she and Travis are the only ones providing for the group, but I have to say that both Laura Lee and Lottie are very spiritual people who don’t overlook physical needs and their physical solutions. Laura Lee wasn’t waiting for divine intervention to rescue them; she read a technical manual and learned how to fly a plane. I don’t know yet what all Lottie is getting herself into (and I don’t think she does either), but she’s only ever tried to enable the group’s vital, practical chores. When Natalie scoffs at her pre-hunting ritual, she replies “you’ve come back alive every time, haven’t you?”.

But, like most cult leaders I suppose, teenage Lottie has found herself some followers more insistent than she is herself, and she agrees to this head-to-head between her and Natalie. The two part ways in the woods, Nat with the gun, Lottie with a little knife to perform a blood sacrifice. As they press on, they both make some pretty crazy discoveries. I’ll start with Lottie’s: the plane we all watched explode in midair, intact right where they found it. She gets inside and opens a hatch, revealing a ladder down into a well-lit, clean, cozy restaurant. She descends and joins her friends, including Laura Lee, at a table, but soon she’s shivering again, covered in snow, soaking wet, and seemingly in another world from her friends despite sitting right next to them. Finally, it’s Laura Lee who tells her she needs to go, or she’ll freeze to death. She pushes Lottie, who falls backwards into the snow, where there is no evidence of her experience in sight. Not even the plane. Whole thing was a hypothermia-induced hallucination from the start.

Courtney Eaton in "Old Wounds". Image courtesy of Showtime.

Nat, meanwhile, has been much more productive. She found a moose frozen into the surface of the lake- the same moose she saw for an instant while out hunting the other day, confirming that she is in her right mind, then and now. She rushes back to the cabin to enlist help breaking the ice and pulling it out. Some people (ahem, Misty) aren’t pleased with Nat getting help in what was supposed to be a one-on-one competition, but everyone else instantly puts the contest aside, as I’m confident Lottie would herself. The group is great at teamwork, honestly, and they’re a well-oiled machine working to break the ice, tie ropes to the moose’s antlers, and heave in unison. Yet despite a truly great effort, they lose their grip and the moose sinks down to the unreachable depths of the lake. Nat is devastated, contest or no contest, just sobbing “we need it” over and over.

This is a really emotional moment, and a huge blow for the group emotionally and physically. This was the first glimmer of hope they’ve had in so long, and now the question still remains: what are they going to eat? I don’t know exactly how things are going to progress, but we all know where this show is going, right? I really think this event is going to be the turning point that sends things in that direction. The thing that really puts into perspective that they are out of options. I wouldn’t be surprised if we hear Nat say at some point that none of the unspeakable things they did in those woods would have happened if they hadn’t dropped that moose.

After a demoralizing, empty handed return, the group returns to the cabin to find Lottie still isn’t back. Nat recovers in a warm bath while team Lottie goes looking for her. When they stumble back in, Lottie barely conscious, Nat jumps out and helps Lottie into the tub. The two hold hands, no hard feelings. The group has made them the symbols of two very different philosophies, but really, Nat and Lottie are both pro survival. They just have different skills.

The results of this competition seem to suggest that Nat, and everything she’s come to represent, are correct. The woods made a fool of Lottie, and even though they both came back empty handed I don’t think anyone can disagree that Nat came out on top. The pair’s present-day storyline also plays a big role in this episode, and I think the timelines really come together well to take us a solid step forward towards understanding what’s going on in the wilderness.

Present-day Natalie has found the cult of the purple people, and their leader Lottie. Clearly some bad blood has formed between the two of them since their good-natured competition because Nat is hell bent on exposing Lottie’s cult. But so far, Lottie seems bulletproof. Her followers know what they’re getting themselves into and honestly Lottie is so likable that I find myself rooting for her even though I’m sure the rest of the gang’s skepticism of her will be warranted in due time. A lot goes on within the cult in this episode, but the really significant part comes at the very end. Lottie is outside in the dark alone, slicing her hand open and dripping blood into an altar, just like she did in the woods, but this time she’s saying, “please let this be enough”.

Teenage Lottie has no idea what she’s praying to, and the events of their hunting competition suggest that the answer might be nothing. But this present-day development sheds a new light on those events: there is something in the woods, but it is not a friend.

But Van and Taissa already knew that. Taissa is staunchly team Natalie- I’d say because she doesn’t want to acknowledge what she already knows deep down- but she indulges Van by attending Lottie’s little spiritual groups. On a personal note, Van is the best character, and I am thrilled to see her join the present-day timeline- played by Six Feet Under’s Lauren Ambrose no less.

Lauren Ambrose in Yellowjackets. Image courtesy of Deadline.

I can’t ignore that major development, but while Taissa’s storyline is the most terrifying, it’s also maybe the least complex. The Leftovers comparisons abound with her character- the practical, good-natured bystander who’s been chosen by a force against their will and beyond their understanding. And the fallout gets worse the longer they ignore it.

So, after hiding from her nighttime escapades that have already left her son terrified of her, adult Taissa wakes up in her car with no gas and no cell phone battery. She deduces her alter ego’s destination and hitchhikes to Van’s place- something that will surely be reaching the press very soon. Whatever’s lying in the woods, Taissa will be the one really in the center of it. Her and Van’s discovery of Javi in the wilderness, in the exact spot that Van and Nighttime Taissa knew was significant, confirm that.

The really interesting thing about this show to me is that I really can’t figure out who to root for. Shauna, Natalie, and Taissa seem to be the heroes, but these ladies are all so nutty. Right now, we still have a lot to learn about what exactly goes down in these woods, but we have a pretty good idea and it’s safe to say that no one survived without getting their hands dirty.

But the best thing about this show is that literally anything goes! So what do you think is next for the Yellowjackets? Which characters are the kind of crazy you can get behind? What will become of poor coach Ben? And dare I even plant the seed that Shauna might eat her baby…

And I’ll end with a friendly reminder to support TV writers! The creators of Yellowjackets have closed the writer’s room for season 3 that had only just gotten started last week and are now picketing as I type. The Writer’s Guild strike means we might get an abridged season 3, as is the case for many current shows, but writers are getting shafted in this behemoth of an industry, and they’re fighting for the conditions that will let them both do their best work and live their best lives.

[alfamangle]

listen normally this question (5. name an album you feel is perfect) would lead to me talking about Get Olde/Second Wind, razzmatazz, counterfeit arcade, litterally most crane wives albums or if were stretching the definition to include albums with only one or two songs i skip every time but are otherwise pretty nice we'd have alot. but you know what. yeah. the last life album is pretty cool.

so you know what. im going to go in order. what do i like about every song.

Light the Fire. ive never played castlevania but this is what id imagine itd sound like really short but a good intro. very nice and lovely gives the same impression of fucking around and finding out and coming across a shrine for the first time and going. oo whatll happen if i do THIS. similar feeling to coming across the first connie board. discovery of something very useful but is probably going to be more than you bargained for. only complaint is that its short and id love to hear a longer version but it works for what it is.

The Crown. i like the piano :] feels like a weird mix between a bossfight and a grand area where nothing spans and its just you alone with the scenery and somethings off. also noting abt the yt ver i like how the sky slowly changes colors and the sun sets. excellent touch. i almost didnt notice the change of song between this and the next one and thought it was one giant song and thought the switch was cool. the effect still stands if ur watching it back to back. overall its just a song w rlly good atmosphere

Divine intervention. repeat point about how it transitions from the previous song into this rlly well. like the weird rumbling noise in the back that kinda pitches up and down and dips in and out. like it alot. again another song that just has excellent vibes. also love the drums the drums were a nice touch. also i keep thinking theres SOME form of strings (again cant quite place it down. likely because its another synth but. the effects nice) overall rlly cool a nice lead into the next song. love the fadeout at the end (also i am not going to go over all the art but trust me i am noticing the cool transitions and changes in the artwork and i am going WWOOOOO THE FIRE WENT OUT YAAAAAAAAAAAAAA)

Console. like the weird little dips it does the dweeeoooooop. that. very cool. also the whiny high pitches noise is a very good addition for like a really weird comparison alot of the songs, and this especially, reminds me of the one factory level background music in jsab. you know the one. also like the instrument. not sure what it is but i like its addition halfway through. very cool. very awesome.also im not sure if this was my device or not but i like the occasional stutter it does where. (looked up the effects name and its simply called an audio stutter) like that. i think it only happened once??? but it fits the song and it fits the character the song is for very nicely. console is :] one of my favorite songs off of this album which. unsuprisingly it is VERY hard to choose. you put your all into these songs and it is VERY apparent.

Call of the Void. This song feels... very short???? for some reason when its not. its not anything detracting from it its just a weird effect. kinda like on other decent sized songs (call of the voids about 3ish minutes from my count) that still feel too short.. i think it just comes down to the songs just really cool. I like the . it sounds like a reversed flute?? towards the middle but im not 100% sure. like everything here it could just be another synth. insert a fallout 4 refrence here. either way this song is REALLY cool i like it alot also the garbled speech noises. cool addition. im not sure if its meant to be saying anything or is just garbled speech noises but either way. VERY cool. also obligatory !!! woaw people !! live on the tv. amazing

.execute() I LIKE THE WEIRD CRUNCHY BIT AT THE START. it sounds like weird messed up footsteps i like it. the cymbols are really nice. like the weird im not even sure how to describe it it sounds like a pitched down pipe being repeatedly slammed against a wall for a melody. very nice very cool. also like the weird garbled ??? scream?? audio distortion?? something 1/3rd of the way through. gives it a nice touch. also again love the string soundalikes. maybe one day we can have actual strings but until then the synth string soundalikes are super cool sounding. like the funky crunching symbol like noises. remind me of clapping. love the melody. love the song. fights w console for favorite song.

Fell out of the world. love the piano and softer sound it has to it. also shoutout to the 'pacing' of this album. i noticed alot of the more actiony songs are samwhiched between softer songs and vice versa with a few exceptions (which i do think those exceptions serve to enhance album pacing. it is. important to me that songs in order on an album sound nice when played back to back. its about how you spread out your songs. if that makes any sense). its a nice touch i dont know how else to describe it. its very nice. now onto the song. this once again feels like. some abandoned area you just. wander through to take in the scenery. again like the string sound alikes. if i wasnt aquainted with the nnk soundtrack and someone came up to me and showed me this song and told me it was the song to some secret area in the game, i might believe them. it has that sort of grand feeling to it.

Godshard. somehow more calmer than the last one. but it just feels sad. this feels like the song you get if you end up accidentily getting the bad ending in a game. a tragedy of errors that got you to this point. now im not a tip top expert on what happened after i got you know. murdered in a hole. which gg cant wait to avenge myself s2. but this seems to fit the story as best i know it. it just. feels sad. a building left to rot and decay. thats the best way i can describe that song. melancholy. thats the word im lookign for. godshard is melancholy.

Terminal Velocity. in contrast to the last this one feels sinister. something is wrong here. the piano feels slightly out of tune and i think that works nicely. love the lower chords :] it just sounds really neat. actually. you know what the piano here reminds me of. those like. really REALLY old pianos that are out of tune due to age and their keys only go down when you press oon them with some force, and their keys are rounded off from use. the keys are starting to yellow and it has a weird echoy hum to it. if youve ever played a piano like that you know what i mean. really adds to the eerie atmosphere the song has going on. a lovely closing song to a really really cool album. you worked so hard on this and you can tell. and it PAYS OFF.

but uh yeah. the last life album was pretty good

Everyone go listen to @bintied 's newest album !!!

[umbran6]

The Argument Against Caleo

Spoilers up to Blood of Olympus and beyond. Beware! (Or not, the book series has been out for a few years, get over it). I wrote this after seeing a user wondering why people didn’t like Caleo, or in some cases, hated it. Here, I want to explain the answer as much as possible while doling out my own points. 

One of the main grievances I have as a fan of Leo Valdez would be the ship Caleo, or Leo x Calypso. It’s a complicated ship, to say the least, with multiple issues that make me question why people like the ship. And I admit it, they initially had some chemistry, but there’s multiple issues that Uncle Rick produced through making such a relationship that makes it extremely open to criticism, criticism which I will explain through this post.

One of my main points against them is that the ship was created on a very limited time scale. Although we aren’t given an exact date to date of when Leo and Calypso met to when they fell in love, we can safely estimate it to be a week at best. Such a limited amount of time from going through the multiple stages of a relationship already stresses the limits of the suspension of disbelief.

A counterexample would be Percabeth, or Percy x Annabeth. Throughout the series, we aren’t introduced to them being romantically involved until the Titan’s Curse, which was two years after they met. Specifically, this is brought up by Aphrodite, the goddess of love herself. Admittedly, Percy and Annabeth were twelve years old when they first met, when romance was definitely out of the picture, especially with a quest to get the Master Bolt.

However, from there we get to see multiple examples of their character depth, ranging from their respective fatal flaws to their ambitions, hopes and dreams, and their friendship. We get to see the slow build up of their chemistry, which was a really good writing move on Uncle Rick’s part. These characters took their sweet time to get to where they wanted to go, and despite the false romantic lead of Rachel, they still got together.

On the other hand, we don’t see enough of this between Leo and Calypso — we only see one book where they interacted with each other in The House of Hades, and that was only for a handful of chapters. While they are definitely older so they can jump straight to romance (some may say too old, but I’ll get to that) its still a pretty huge gap to jump through without making it stick. This makes it hard to root for a ship when it is built on a rather faulty foundation from the ‘they just met’ to ‘they get together’, especially when they don’t have a lot of events to show their chemistry.

Which brings me to Ogygia, which has raised a few red flags for me when looking at it from a retrospective point of view. Now, we know what the main issue of the island is that the hero who landed on said island can’t leave until Calypso falls in love with them. And we’ve seen this with Percy during the Battle of the Labyrinth, where he lands in the island and Calypso falls in love with him while tending to his wounds from, you know, being erupted from freaking Mt. St. Helens. Needless to say, this falling in love with each other montage happened quickly to the point of suspicion, which sets up the complication that Calypso and Leo might have fallen in love due to magical intervention.

And hear me out, because although this  might be a pretty big pill to swallow, we have evidence for this through Percy. It only takes one chapter for Calypso and Percy to meet, and the next he’s willing to consider leaving Camp Half-Blood and Annabeth behind to live on the island when Hephaestus gives him the choice to leave Ogygia or stay. We don’t even get an explanation on why Percy considered giving it all up just so he can be with her. All we know is, girl meets boy, now they want to live on an isolated island forever. It’s especially absurd considering Percy’s hamartia (fatal flaw) is freaking loyalty to those he loves.  Needless to say, It’s a huge YIKES, especially when we apply it to Leo and Calypso. 

It also raises the possibility that the romantic relationship between them is doomed to failure. And if you guys want to fight me on this, let’s look at Jason and Piper, a couple whose relationship started with a similar foundation. Piper had romantic memories implanted into her brain by Hera through the use of the Mist, while Jason was reduced to a Tabula Rasa (a blank slate for those who lack culture) by said goddess. They broke up before the Trials of Apollo because it was clear that when the dust settled, Piper had been aware that their romance was a lie and that their intentions to stay together was a mix of delusion and pressure from freaking Aphrodite. Leo and Calypso get together under what is arguably a very similar set of conditions if Ogygia’s magic had any influence on their relationship, and that this magic could wear off if given enough time. 

Third, and here’s a pretty big one for me, would be Calypso’s character, mainly because there are a lot of unfortunate implications attached to it. In The Blood of Olympus, she was turned into the divine equivalent of Princess Peach, with Leo being her Mario (except he saves her with a badass metal dragon). Its extremely unnecessary to make a character, especially as one such as Calypso, get  turned into the typical reward of a B-Class action movie. It’s insulting and puts her up as a trophy, a narrative that is definitely not ok by any means necessary.

In another direction, Calypso is also really, really worrying when things don’t go get her way. First, let’s look at The Odyssey, the first myth she pops up. Calypso had imprisoned Odysseus for ten years on her island until Hermes said to let him go, and although it gives them plenty of time to fall in love, it also raises the implications of stockholm syndrome. Then we’ve got the fact that Calypso cursed Annabeth out of spite, implicitly saying that she wished the daughter of Athena would suffer the same isolation that she did, which came to reality when Percy and Annabeth met the Arai in Tartarus. And Annabeth wasn’t even aware that she was still in Ogygia, much less intentionally intervened in the matter. When Percy left Ogygia, rather than be angry at Percy, Calypso cursed Annabeth out of all people to suffer the same loneliness and misery she went through. That’s some Hera at her worst levels of spite. 

Through such evidence we can see that Calypso is extremely wrathful towards those who break her heart even though they don’t want to. It certainly implies that Calypso isn’t in a good state of mind, and could easily repeat said actions if provoked. We could almost compare it to Medea and the original Jason, but at least in that case, Medea has every right to be pissed off at Jason and take her revenge. Calypso’s curse and how she handles things certainly implies a level of immaturity that would end in disaster if they broke up.

One issue that, I’ll admit is more from my personal point of view is that the ship took a lot of Leo’s character and threw it in the garbage in Blood of Olympus. Though we see him do a lot of stuff behind the scenes, the fact that its all for the goal of reaching Calypso just reduced him to someone who is more focused on love than, you know, fighting the evil goddess that was responsible for killing his mom and getting sweet sweet revenge. While the revenge plot can be cliched sometimes, it can be played well, while romance and the typical ‘always save the girl’ trope is just overdone. If Leo had been allowed to, you know, be more focused on other things rather than Calypso, we could have seen a lot more variety in his character.

For example as one of the possible character arcs he could’ve gone through, Leo has always been alone among the couples, often being isolated. Heck, Nemesis herself stated that he would always be the seventh wheel, and that he would never find a place among his brethren. Though some fellow tumblr users have taken this in multiple ways, either saying that he should learn to be happy by himself or that he is socially isolated in the Argo II because of these romantic relationships (I prefer a mix of both). Uncle Rick just giving him a girlfriend seems like taking the easy way out of solving such an issue and abandoning what could’ve been a rather interesting character arc. The relationship isn’t a bad thing if we remove some of the unfortunate implications, but it is a bad way to end what is a complex and realistic problem for a character and in some cases maybe possible in real life.

One more minor but still yikes worthy point is that there’s a huge age gap between them. We’re not talking about the ‘Hazel is 15 and Frank is 17 and in one year that’ll be a problem because then Hazel will be jailbait’ age gap. And even then, we can argue that Hazel is older since she is chronologically ninety-one years old. No, Calypso is older by millennia in terms of mindset and body due to the perks of being a goddess, while Leo is sixteen.

God-to-Mortal relationships are already complicated, even with emotionally and socially well-functioning adults. The fact that Leo is underage, inexperienced with romance (despite his flirting, Calypso was his first kiss), and has been through a freaking ton of trauma in his youth, does not make this okay. At best, they’re both mutually interested in each other but may have different expectations when it comes to a relationship. At worst, Calypso is taking advantage of a boy just so she can get out of Ogygia and possibly dumping him later on like the wrapping of a candy bar. Even though Calypso lost her immortality during The Trials of Apollo, that doesn’t even compensate for the immense age gap alongside Leo’s guilt at the possibility that he might’ve been responsible for her losing said immortality.

Oh, and about Leo... I’m a fan of him, but I can admit that he is in a bad spot both mentally and emotionally throughout the series. He’s lost his mom due to a mix of his own powers and Gaea’s trickery, and never had the chance to fully process that event and come to terms with it. The foster home system alongside his own trauma has forced him to hide his emotions through a façade of happiness and jokes when it’s quite clear to me he needs a therapist, stat. He's also run away from several foster homes, implying this means he was and still is being affected by the event. His mask is still on during The Blood of Olympus considering he hid a lot of things from Piper and Jason.

Speaking about them, not helping this matter is the fact that he’s rather isolated in terms of friendships since Jason and Piper, his supposed best friends are more interested in locking lip rather than, you know, actually hanging out with each other.  He doesn’t have good friendships with the rest of the Seven, and the closest ones he does have is with Hazel and Frank. And even then they start off in the wrong spot since Frank is very insecure about possibly losing Hazel to him during Mark of Athena while Hazel in the meantime, is also dealing with the fact that he is the descendant of her possible boyfriend Sammy Valdez. 

This could indirectly have made him desperate for affection since he has nobody else to confide in during the rest of the series, which is a bad mental state to be in when one lands on Ogygia, the island that we’ve seen could possibly force two people to fall in love with each other. A romantic relationship is not something that he needs or something that will help him in the future. He needs more than that, and having him in one that could end in disaster is the last thing he needs. 

And that does not make him a bad person, much less a bad character. While some who are similarly emotionally and socially isolated may turn to violence or creepy behavior on those they want affection from, Leo does not do that to the other characters. It just means that he as a character needs more time to recover and develop before we go giving him romantic relationships, much less one with Calypso.

That’s not to say that they don’t have some things in common. Both are starved for love and affection, with Calypso being constantly rejected by heroes while Leo was rejected by foster homes and his own family. It’s a trait that they have in common, but it shouldn’t be the only thing that they have in common, especially since it is laced with a trauma that is clear they haven’t had help processing. They need to develop more as characters and as friends before they should be paired together.

So… yeah. The Caleo relationship is, in my eyes, doomed to failure, or at least heavily flawed after taking the above points into account. Uncle Rick, as if seemingly aware of these criticisms, has put the relationship in a rocky place by The Tower of Nero, giving them the possibility of overcoming the above criticisms and their own flaws, or giving fanfic writers an out and pairing Leo with another character or have him single, but happy. Either way, in my opinion Caleo is a bad ship when it comes to how it was created, alongside the flaws and unfortunate implications it has.

While I can see some of the chemistry the ship has, you can’t just use a couple of moments where they get along as evidence that they belong together, especially with the above reasons. That’s like using a band-aid to cover a bullet hole without removing the bullet, stopping the bleeding, and preventing infection. If both characters and their relationship had been given more time to develop, I would understand how they would get together. 

[nincompoopydoo]

Can I request a Fred Weasley oneshot with the promts "you don't love him", and "love is supposed to be good". Thanks 😊

GOOD, PURE, AND BEAUTIFUL

PAIRING: Fred Weasley x reader WORD COUNT: 1.9k (about 1000 words my ass) SUMMARY: The Leaky Cauldron serves as a sanctuary to drink your problems away for the night but a certain ginger always seems to find his way to you. Possible part 2? A/N: Sorry this took so long, I had to rewrite the hold dang thing and I know I said I would write around 1000 words but looks like i can’t help but be long-winded. WARNINGS: Angst. Mentions of getting drunk. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERLIST

You find solace in the pint of butterbeer, sitting at a table for two, tucked by the corner and under the archways of the Leaky Cauldron. The passing wizards in sleek venerable trench coats and witches with an odd taste in hats only act as an activity of sightseeing in keeping yourself awake, hypothesizing strangers’ lives and whether they might have gnomes lurking in their gardens or have gardens in the first place.

You are drawn to the drifting scent of butterscotch—the tankard of butterbeer sits glumly in your grasp as it has lost all its foam. You take a sip, more of a gulp, feeling the gas building up in your abdomen, and the sweetness to it almost feels sickening at this point.

Belly full yet feeling extremely empty.

The days leading up to you, being here at the Leaky Cauldron, and playing the part of the drunken witch very well weren't exactly pleasant. Flourish and Blotts seem to lose its shine in fulfilling your love for books and organization with every passing day and your relationship with the boy you met and fell madly in love with during your sixth year don’t seem to hold the same spark as before. Walter was a Ravenclaw—handsome, diligent, and incredibly smart. You and him dating had been an on-and-off situation because the one thing you two share in common is the lack of decisiveness.

Today, tonight, you and Walter are finally resolute. The true end where second, third, or fourth chances will never cease to exist from now on. With the new offer for a job in America, you and he both know drifting apart seems to be the only reasonable solution to the whole mess of what you assumed was love.

He spoke the words in this very spot, sat in the chair across from you. You had been watching the way his thumb would caress the back of his other hand and you knew, the night was bound to end in a disastrous way. An unfortunate turn of events for the witch who doesn’t truly know if she ever loved another or was ever loved.

Yet, you sit here, eyes completely dry. Far from crestfallen, far from regret. Only filled with the dread of not feeling the sadness you’re supposed to be feeling. You ignore how your shoulders feel lighter and how the tightness in your chest seems to have miraculously disappeared as soon as you watched Walter walk out of the Leaky Cauldron.

Are the butterbeers celebratory or depressing? You’re not sure.

You rest your chin on your palm, feeling like you’re in a daze. Butterbeer isn’t necessarily the type of drink to get you intoxicated but noting the rate you’re consuming each mug, it’s no surprise that you’re just a little tipsy.

Then, you see a certain ginger twin emerge from the entrance of the pub like some divine intervention. He seems to spot you from afar, waving in your direction. You lift your hand weakly in the midst of trying to figure out which of the twins you are particularly waving at. It’s Fred Weasley as it turns out, you recognize the certain strides with every step taken towards you that differs him from George. As he nears you, there’s an assurance that it’s certainly Fred with the sight of a mark on the bridge of his nose—an indicator and a technique to tell the twins apart you used when you were younger.

Fred halts by the empty seat diagonally to your left, hands shoved in the pockets.

“I have never seen you here at this hour—are you okay?” Fred cuts himself short, brows turning into a frown when he notices the unusual mess in your hair. If he knows you any better, well-kept and neat hair was all you cared about after the number of times you have furiously whined about the frizz in your hair during the summertime.

It isn’t summer now, well into the end of November. The days are colder and he remembers how your hair would especially shine in the gloom of Autumn.

“Not really.” is all you manage to say before taking the hundredth swig from your nearly empty butterbeer. You inspect the mug with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes. “I swear this was full the last time I looked...”

Before you know it, he’s snatching the mug away from you, dragging it across the table as he settles into the empty chair. He stares at you with a beckoning brow, expression mixed with disappointment, disapproval, and worry.

“Hey! That’s my butterbeer, Weasley!” you whine, trying to reach for it but Fred pushes it further, hand securing around it. Without hesitation, you smack him in the arm. “Stop being a complete arse, Fred. What are you even doing here and where’s George anyway?”

Fred winces in pretense pain, dramatically rubbing the side of his arm as he tries to suppress his laughter from your sudden burst of violence. “George is back at the shop going over numbers and as far as I’m concerned, I can be anywhere I want to be. You clearly had too much to drink.”

“But it's butterbeer!”

“That is exactly my point.”

You let out a huff, leaning into your seat and running your fingers through your hair. After a moment’s silence with Fred still staring you down in the effort of getting you to talk, you finally give in. He knows you too well for you to hide anything from him.

“Walter and I broke it off.”

Fred blinks, trying to hide his wide-eyed gaze. “For good?”

You finally turn to him, nodding slowly. “For good.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice is soft when in reality he’s trying to hide his relief in hearing that things between you and Walter have finally come to a resolution because falling in and out of a relationship was driving you mad. He cares for you and always has since the very beginning and a part of him wishes for those feelings of infatuation between two melancholic teenagers will emerge back from what he assumed was already dead.

He watches you lean your head back onto your palm, seemingly sinking deeper towards the table as you try to wrap your head around the situation to form proper words with your lips. “You know what’s the worst part of it all?” Fred shakes his head, eyes never breaking contact with your own. “I don’t even feel that sad about it. Like all those years were...nothing.” Your laugh comes out as a puff of air. It’s cynical rather than finding the humor in it. For the first time, he doesn’t laugh when you do.

Another beat of silence and Fred is contemplating whether his next words that beg to be freed from his mind are appropriate in a time like this. Although he knows how he tends to speak his mind without thinking of the consequences, he knows to tread lightly around you from the times when his words nearly tore your friendship apart.

Still, he knows to be honest with you.

Through the chatter of the crowd at the Leaky Cauldron whilst a few men by the other corner of the pub begin to break into singing a drinking song, Fred’s voice comes off as a whisper, barely audible. “You don’t love him, don’t you?”

Your gaze had initially drifted to the bunch of rowdy men, rendering verses about magical whisky and beer. Yet, they now return to hold a certain ginger’s gaze. You want to be offended by his question because of how it supposedly hurts the raw wound of feeling sorry for yourself. Your love life hasn’t been the best and your tendency to jump to your own defense about it is a clear note to everyone that it simply shouldn’t be questioned.

But it’s Fred. The one who has constantly looked out for you when other boys and men seem to take advantage of your hopeless romantic side. The one who would pull a prank on George just to see you smile. The one who ended up taking you to the Yule Ball as his date because Walter, at the time, rejected you like you were nothing. You should have known that it was never meant to be.

You know to be honest with Fred Weasley.

“I don’t think I ever did.”

He doesn’t say anything, wanting to listen as he waits for you to conceive the proper words to finally speak your mind. It is clear you want to let it out and let off of the burden that has trapped you under its knees, constantly looming over your shoulders and causing dread and fear of losing so much in such a short time. The band of merry men as the whole pub begins to join the group in singing about the joys of alcohol, life, and love in the tune of a traditional Scottish muggle song.

You wonder how can these people be so happy in a time of an impending war. Maybe, it's temporary, meant to drown the hurt and sorrows for tonight and when morning comes, they'll return to opening the stitches of their wounds. When morning comes, you will either wake up at this very table or in an empty bed. Either way, you’ll be alone.

Now, all you want to do is get all your worries and troubles off your chest, not wanting to feel so empty and suffocated. “Love,” you pause, inhaling deeply. ”Love is supposed to be good and pure and beautiful. Love was what I thought I had and right now, I don’t know what to make of it, Fred...I thought I was going to marry him someday.” You find yourself sighing once more, already feeling the lightness in your chest. Running your fingers along your cheek, you close your eyes to help yourself focus through your rapid thoughts and your dazed mind. “Everything is going wrong. I hate my job. I hate my bed. I’m drunk on butterbeer for Merlin’s sake. I feel so, so alone—”

“Ah, and that’s where you are wrong.”

Your eyes are open now, narrowed from adjusting to the sudden brightness of the candlelit place. They drift to Fred who seems very content. He then places his hand on yours and you realize you had been fiddling with your fingers for the last minute. His hand is warm on yours and the heat gradually travels to your chest, heartbeat now slightly picking up in speed. If you listen close enough, you would be able to hear it.

“You are never alone. Not when I’m around and you know I will always be around.”

His words tug at the side of your lips, now widening into a faint smile. It’s small but it’s the kind that reaches your eyes and raises your cheeks. “Thank you, Freddie.”

Then, you watch him abruptly come to a stand, chair screeching. He tugs on the lapels of his coat, adjusting it with the roll of his shoulders. He grabs the back of his chair, and leans forward, towards you. “George and I are visiting the Burrow for the weekend. I’m sure mum won’t mind you staying over.”

You blink, mouth slightly agape at his offer. “I don’t want to trouble anybody—”

“Don’t be silly. Mum loves you more than George and I combined. And she loves us a lot!”

You laugh and it’s genuine this time, knowing how Molly will be always whispering to you about what makes Fred a good husband in the kitchen when you’re washing up the plates and how she will never let you go to bed hungry.

The burrow is like your second home and right now, home is all you want and need.

“Alright, then.”

[forever-rogue]

Hi!

Happy New Year! 😃 There’s so many to choose from but as soon as I saw this one, I knew it was the one I wanted to pick.

Prompt #35 from Prompt List #2 - Frankie Morales

Thank you!

#35: “About the baby...it’s yours.”

Ohhh, this is inch resting! Enjoy!

Frankie Morales x Reader ; warnings: pregnancy (and any and all things related to it), mentions of sex, drinking, smooches.

Frankie Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

“No,” you sighed in frustration as you looked at the small white stick in your hands. It was a simple pregnancy test, but right now it felt like a ticking time bomb. You read over the singular word in frustration before tossing it onto the floor and watching as it skidded to a stop next to the bathtub. 

Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. 

It couldn’t be right though, surely it had to be a false positive. But then...what about all the rest of the tests you had taken? All nine others were lined up on the counter, a testament to how determined you were to find out that you weren’t pregnant. But...could ten tests really be lying? What were the odds that all of them were false positives?

“Shit,” in a burst of anger you tossed them all off the counter and onto the floor, tears already running down your cheeks as you sank to the floor in frustration. How could this have happened? You were so careful every other time; you were on birth control and always made sure to have your partners use a condom. And yet...here you were. Pregnant and alone, crying on your bathroom floor. 

You pulled your knees up to your chest as you decided to get all your tears out then and there before making a plan. One way or another, something was going to need to happen - and as soon as possible hopefully. 

But then, as you sat there, crying and ignoring the incessant notifications on your going off on your phone, it hit you. 

Frankie. Francisco Morales. He’d been the last person you had sex with. 

Holy shit. No - there was no way. You couldn't be pregnant by your best friend that you'd secretly loved for years and had a drunken one night stand with. Absolutely not. Nope...that would be...the worst thing in the eternity of the universe. Some sort of vile joke that the universe would be playing on both of you. It couldn’t be him...no, no, no.

But...he was the last person you'd had sex with. And before then...it had been months since anyone else. Unless there was some sort of divine intervention on behalf of your uterus and you were some sort of abstinent Mary, Frankie Morales was the father of your baby. 

The baby - not your baby. Rather, the small peanut inside of you. Referring to it as anything else was too...real. It was just a baby - a maybe baby. One you weren’t even sure you’d keep, wanted, or would tell Frankie about. But...shit. You couldn’t not. It would come out somehow, if not now, then later, in a moment of indiscretion, or another drunken evening. You had to tell him...even if it was just to let him know what happened before you made some sort of decision. 

But what the hell were you supposed to tell him? Oh by the way, remember when we had sex two months ago? Yeah, well, I’m pregnant. 

You must have forgotten to take your birth control, and neither of you must have had enough sense to remember a condom. Or one of the two failed...or both. Either way it was a perfect storm that resulted in the worst possibility.

The worst part of all? 

Despite the upset and sheer terror you felt, there was a small part of you that wasn’t...entirely devastated. You’d never given much thought to children, having been perpetually single for the better part of the last decade, and hopelessly in love with your best friend. If there was a man that you wouldn't have minded children with, it would have been Frankie. He was a good man, always trying to be better, trying his best, and despite all the shit he’d been through in life, he still managed to have a soft, loving heart. He would have made a good father, that much you knew. 

But shit. He was only your best friend, and unlike you, he wasn’t deep in love. Would he even want a baby? A child he’d have what - half custody of while you had the other? It would never work, it wasn’t meant to be...it just...no. There was no way in hell this was going to work out. 

With that thought in your mind, you rested your head on your knees, crying and shaking as you tried to wrap your head around it all. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Hey,” you felt a soft touch on your arm as you heard your name being gently called, “hey, Bee...wake up.”

You opened your eyes, blinking away the dried tears and bleariness as you took in the face looking back down at you with a gentle smile. Momentarily forgetting your predicament, you offered him a smile of your own as he held out his hand to help you up to your feet. 

“Frankie,” you gave him a curious look, “what are you doing here? It’s not movie night or anything.”

“I’ve been calling and texting,” he nodded in the direction of your discarded phone, which was blinking at you with notifications, “you didn’t answer and I got worried. It’s not like you. I wanted to see if you were up for getting a drink tonight? The brewery’s got a new ale out.”

“I...umm,” you quickly remember your situation as a sense of panic set into your bones. The tests and discarded boxes were still all over the floor, one right next to your phone. He had to have seen them. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you nodded lightly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Frankie.”

“Yeah,” he said as he gave everything the once over. Another worry suddenly crossed your mind; you’d been drinking the last two months. Granted it hadn’t been anything crazy, just a beer here and there and a glass of wine on occasion, but still. Shit. He cleared his throat awkwardly as you scurried around to pick everything up. Ever the gentleman, he stepped into help, pausing slightly when he noticed all the positive tests, “you...ugh...you’re pregnant?”

“I-I guess,” you offered him the most neutral look you could muster up, “I just ugh...found out. It’s a bit of a surprise to me too.”

“Oh...you don’t…” he swallowed thickly as he nodded, more to himself than anything else as wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole, “do you…”

“I don’t know a lot,” you cut him off before he could continue his line of questioning, “i didn’t really know I was...pregnant until I missed my period this month. I-I-I thought last month was a fluke but two months in a row is disconcerting. So I panicked and got some tests.”

“Oh,” his eyes widened as you could practically hear the gears turning in his head as you realized what you said. You might as well have told him then and there, “I thought you were…”

“I am,” you tried to cover up your own tracks, “I’m on birth control, so I’m also a little...surprised. I’m trying to keep calm, but in all honesty I’m freaking out.”

“It’s okay, Bee,” he promised softly as he gently put his hand on your cheek, brushing his thumb over your cheek. It was hard not to melt into his touch and confess everything then and there, “I’m here for you. Whatever you need, whatever support you want, I’m here, every step of the way.”

“Frankie...I-I don’t know what to say…” your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to break down in a fit of tears again. It would be better to get it out in the open now and to just say it and let him know and -

“Either I get to be the best fun uncle, or...I’ll be here for you either way,” he insisted with a smile small before pulling you into a gentle, warm hug. You were stunned into silence, but decided to let things happen, wrapping your own arms around his waist as you buried your head in his chest. 

You wouldn’t tell him now. But soon. You needed to. For your sake as well as his own.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was an odd feeling, walking out of the doctor’s office, clutching a stack of papers with more information than you knew what to do with, including a set of grainy black and white images. You’d cried - as you’d often been doing lately - but somehow you weren’t upset. It had been about two weeks since your surprise discovery, and with each passing day, it became more real. 

You were still confused, more than you had ever been, but somehow you’d grown attached to the idea of the little bean that was inside of you. It was scary, more than anything else in life ever had been, but you...just...it was a lot. 

No you just needed to tell Frankie. 

It seemed like every time you’d tried, something or someone came up and interrupted, pulling his attention away or making it a most inopportune moment. But...shit. You couldn’t let this go much longer.

You’d tell him. Tonight. There was no doubt in your mind it was time to do it and then the pieces could fall wherever they landed and you’d figure it out. Keeping it from him just wouldn’t be fair, and you couldn’t imagine a world where you had this baby and Frankie only thought of himself of an uncle.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you walked into your apartment, ready to sit down and relax - and get yourself hyped to tell Frankie -  before he came over for your weekly movie night. 

But when you got in, your heart plummeted when you saw Frankie already in the kitchen, messing around with some snacks. Shit, shit, shit. He wasn’t supposed to be there for at least another two hours. 

“Bee,” he grinned at you when spotted you, excitedly pointing at the various treats he was setting out, “you’re just in time!”

“And you’re early,” you tried to make light of it as you walked in and set everything down on the table, “I wasn’t expecting you for a while.”

“I know,” he grinned with a wink, “but I knew you’d be home soon, and wanted to do this for you. You’re dealing with a lot, and I just want to help however I can. How did it go? Did you get more information...what am I saying? Of course you did...how was it?”

“It was a lot,” you admitted, just like everything right now, “the doctor was really helpful and gave me so much information. But..ugh...the ba - it’s fine right now.”

“The baby?” he asked as you nodded, setting down the stack of papers, letting the sonogram images land on top, “you can call it a baby, Bee!”

“I know,” you huffed lightly with laughter at yourself, “it just...makes it feel so real. Calling it a baby. I dunno.”

“Bee’s having a baby...Baby Bee,” he said excitedly as he looked over your stack of papers, his soft brown eyes landing on the pictures, “maybe...a maybe Baby Bee…”

Before you could stop him, he reached for the sheet of images, bringing it up to his face as he furrowed his brows to study them closely. A small smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as he looked at them, and you couldn’t help but grin back at him. You were so in love with this man, it was almost painful sometimes. And you here you were, having his baby and he didn’t know, he wasn’t yours...that bad it all that much harder. Before you knew it, tears were running down your cheeks, and a sniffle escaped your lips.

“Umm, F-Frankie…: you whispered softly as he looked at you with a concerned expression, “about the baby...i-i-it’s...it’s yours.”

He stiffened for a moment, a million different expressions crossing his features as he looked between you and the sonograms and back at you. Opening and closing his mouth a few times, all he could manage was a small, “what?”

“I-I know I should have told you sooner, right when I found out and you came in,” you were crying now, a blubbering mess, “I just couldn’t do it...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for all of this...you’re the only one I’ve been with in almost a year and I-I-I know it was a one night drunken thing, and I thought we were careful but this...just happened. I’m so sorry, Frankie.”

“It’s mine?” he asked softly as you nodded, watching as his eyes flicked to your still non-existent bump, “we’re having a baby? Together?”

“I-I know this isn’t what anything we expected,” you wiped at your eyes, “I-I don’t expect you to help or have anything to do with it, but I...I want to keep it…”

Frankie inhaled and exhaled deeply, setting the images back down before turning his attention to you. His gaze was on your face, eyes soft as ever before he closed the small distance between your bodies. Before you could ask what he was doing, his hands found your face, touching it tenderly for a few moments, almost as if he was asking you for permission, which you readily granted, before crashing his lips onto yours and kissing you deeply. 

And it felt so...perfect. So natural as his arms wrapped around your waist and you put yours around his neck and held him close. He didn’t let you go, reluctant to part his lips from yours for even a moment, only doing so when you were left dizzy and breathless. 

“I love you, Bee,” he whispered softly, chasing your lips with his own, “always you, for so long. It wasn’t supposed to be a one night stand, I just got so foolish and scared…”

“I love you, Francisco,” you promised, “you’ve been it for me for so long. I never thought…I never thought you would love me back. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be loved by you.”

“You’ve been loved by me for so long,” he promised, “you never had to wonder. I should have told you sooner.”

“Now is good,” you grinned at him, your head spinning with everything that was going on, “now is perfect.”

“Bee,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, stopping at your lips, “and Baby Bee. I couldn’t ask for anything better. I am so in love with you.”

“I love you more than anything,” you ran a hand through his dark locks, a few tears already spilling down your cheeks again. He beamed at you, gently wiping them away, “but, Frankie...you’re okay...with the baby? Keeping the baby?”

“Yes,” he whispered softly, his own eyes glistening with tears as he nodded, “yes. I want this...I’ve always wanted this. I want everything with you - you and only you.”

“Francisco…” you smiled, and just like that, you lit up his entire world, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he nuzzled his nose against yours as he breathed you in, “my Bee and Baby Bee. What more could I ever ask for?

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[rocorambles]

Divine (Dogs) Intervention

Pairing: Megumi x Reader

Prompt: Accidental Kiss

Summary: Megumi forms his own views of love

A/N: This is for the Anilysium SFW Collab. Masterlist can be found here!

Megumi sighs in relief, grateful for the peace and quiet the further he treks into the woods surrounding Jujutsu High. As much as he’s become accustomed to Nobara’s snide but clever remarks and Itadori’s silly cheerful ramblings, he cherishes the time he can truly be by himself, one with nature, one with the darkness and shadows curling inside, calling to him.

He takes a careful look around, eyes narrowing as he tries to find any hint of Gojo’s cursed energy lingering anywhere. But deeming himself well and truly alone, he grins, hands coming together and forming a seal, letting his guard down as his divine dogs wag their tails, growling and jumping around him playfully.

Megumi knows the rest of the Zenin clan would sneer and mock him if they saw how he lets the shikigami play, how he pets and coddles them as if they really were just two oversized dogs. But after all the pain and loneliness they’ve caused him, that he’s suffered through, he thinks he’s allowed some indulgences. And if that small relief comes in the form of two black and white furry packages, so be it.

He blames the fact that it’s a rare day without missions or lessons for his carelessness, for the way he doesn’t sense your presence. But fortunately for him, his dogs aren’t nearly as oblivious and his eyes widen in alarm as they cease their scuffle with each other, ears and heads suddenly alert. And suddenly they’re racing off into the distance, deeper and deeper into the forest, and it’s all he can do to keep them within view as he chases after the two excited creatures.

Megumi’s tempted to call their names, order them to stop, but a sense of curiosity and apprehension keeps him quiet and he continues to trail silently, on guard about what exactly has caught their attention. He hones in on the energy surrounding him, expanding his senses, broader and broader…

There.

The presence is so human, so normal, it’s no surprise it had completely slipped underneath Megumi’s radar. He feels his shoulder loosen, only to tense in mortification when he hears a crash and finds his two gigantic dogs pinning you to the ground, panting, licking, and slobbering all over your face as you squeal and flail.

“Off! Get off her!”

Megumi rolls his eyes in fond exasperation as the dogs whine at the harshness of his tone, bouncing back and forth from licking and nudging his hand for head pats to prove he’s not too angry (which he grants them) to giddily nuzzling their noses against your face, sniffing you curiously but barking happily when you get over your initial shock and begin to coo and pet them as you sit up.

You certainly don’t seem like a threat and Megumi allows himself to relax and observe you when he ascertains that you’re just a civilian who’s accidentally found themselves here. He hasn’t met many humans outside of the small circle of jujutsu sorcerers he’s been raised among and he can’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia, a sense of what-ifs as he watches you, so carefree, so innocent, so naive as you pet and play with what you think are just two adorable dogs. He wonders if that’s what his life could have been like too if his parents were still around, if he’d never gotten entangled with Gojo, with the Zenin, with jujutsu sorcerers.

But he knows better than to dream, forced too early on to understand how heavy the weight of reality is and he brings himself back to the present. He offers you a hand to help you stand, apologizing for his dogs, although he snorts about how clearly not sorry they are as they continue circling between and around your legs, practically begging for more attention.

“You really shouldn’t be here. These are the school’s private grounds.”

Even Megumi winces at how harsh he sounds and he awkwardly rubs the back of his head as you flinch, frantically apologizing and looking like you’re about to run to be anywhere else but here.

“But if you want to stick around just for today while I’m here, that’s fine…”

He trails off, ducking his face underneath the high collar of his uniform to hide the red flush gracing his visage as you gratefully beam at him, eyes sparkling, smile radiant.

But the dogs boredly circling the two of you and tired of whining for attention are not nearly as enamored with your demeanor as Megumi and suddenly two heavy weights are leaping on Megumi’s back, forcing him to topple forward, bringing you down with him. And as your bodies crash to the ground, your lips meet.

Physical intimacy is not something Megumi has ever had the chance to become closely acquainted with, platonic or romantic. He freezes at how soft yet solid your lips are against his, your scent that wafts around him from your proximity, the warmth of your body beneath his. He’s been privy to quite possibly the world’s most stunning eyes, but as he gazes into yours, so close that it feels like your eyelashes will accidentally entangle, he vaguely thinks that Gojo’s eyes have nothing on yours.

But time isn’t frozen for all and the two of you yelp when wet tongues and furry heads join the two of you, the dogs whining for attention and to be included in what they think is just two human-sized dogs playing with each other. And embarrassed, the two of you gratefully scramble to take life’s easy way out, separating from each other and each grabbing one dog to coddle and distract yourselves with.

However even as adorable as they are, the dogs only partially take your minds off of what just transpired and your face heats as your fingers absentmindedly brush against your lips, remembering the comforting heat pressed against them. Megumi’s not faring much better as he subtly tries to glance at you between pets, ducking his flushed face beneath his collar once again when he accidentally catches you touching your lips, the action making his own lips tingle in pleasant memory.

But it’s more than just the physical, it’s an awakening of sorts. All his life Megumi has been raised with a sense of duty, of responsibility. Romance, love, those are all foreign concepts to him, concepts none of the adults or kids he grew up with, other than Yuta, cared for. And as much as he respects his senpai, he’s not sure if that’s necessarily the kind of love he wants for himself (no disrespect to the Queen of Curses).

He’s not saying this is love, it definitely isn’t...yet. It’s curiosity, attraction, interest at most. But he’s surprised by how much he craves it. He’s grown up associating love with pain, death, and loss. No one told him it could also be so freeing. No one told him how normal it would feel. No one told him that it would be the sprinkle of water and ray of sunlight he needed to help grow the cold bud that lay dormant in him after the loss of his father and Tsumiki.

For once he feels hope, feels like this might truly be a new beginning and as the little plant in his heart finally blossoms, he takes the initiative he’s avoided for so long, letting himself be greedy, letting himself believe that maybe, just maybe, there’s something more for him than exorcising curse after curse.

He asks you about your life, your family, your friends, your interests and then he does what he’s always done best. He listens, finding peace in the cadence and pitch of your voice, feeling his heart flutter as you grow more and more comfortable, becoming more animated as you tell him about your favorite foods, the school subject you struggle with the most, the plans you have coming up for your friend’s birthday. And in return he tells you about the father figure/older brother in his life who has a sweet tooth, the cheerful idiot who lives next to him, and the loud-mouthed female classmate who recently joined Jujutsu High.

But before he can continue on, trying to figure out what to leave out for now and how to sugar coat the rest, his eyes widen in surprise at how dark it’s gotten, how low the sun is in the sky. Quickly catching on to what’s caught his attention when you see him cut off mid-sentence and check the time on his phone, you sheepishly laugh, a hint of disappointment in the sound as you lament on having to part ways with the boy you’ve just met yet who’s somehow nestled a way into your heart.

“I guess I should be going. It’s getting late.”

“I’ll walk you to the train station.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as his tall lean form stands up with yours, a furry dog on either side of you as the four of you make your way out of the forest and down paved sidewalks. The two of you bask in these last moments together, something distressing twisting at your insides when you see the station up ahead, the feeling of finality settling heavily on your shoulders.

There’s already the bitter taste of farewell on Megumi’s tongue as the two of you stand in front of the station entrance, a taste he’s far too familiar with. But before he can utter a word, he’s startled by a bright screen being shoved in his face, eyes blinking in surprise as he stares at the empty contact form in front of him.

“You know...Umm...In case I want to trespass on private property again or if you want to go to that cat cafe I talked about earlier…”

Before you can make a fool of yourself any longer, long slender fingers are plucking the phone from your hands, and relief flows through you as you watch Megumi type his name and number in. There’s an extra bounce in your step when you gleefully take your phone back and he playfully rolls his eyes at the way you mischievously stick your tongue out at him when he lightly warns you not to just waltz onto Jujutsu High property without him as a guide.

And as you board the train, both of you exchanging farewells and even the dogs wagging their tails in their own silent form of goodbye, Megumi smiles down at the new text that appears on his screen, swiftly saving your contact before making his way back to the school.

Maybe he’d have to reconsider his aversion to exploring Tokyo.