#it’s ethical guidance for sure but more than that

[j-esbian]

i feel like there is so much to be said about drizzt do’urden’s religious views and how he’s a stand-in for culturally christian atheists. he grew up in a corrupt religious society and has religious trauma, so as a result he views all religion as bad. at first it seems like he’s going to have a “pagan finds jesus” story but he eventually rejects mielikki too, and imo, it always felt out of character that he followed her in the first place so i wasn’t surprised when he changed his mind. he was looking for a name to label his preexisting system of ideals, which feels very much like christians who claim “all that matters is that you live by the bible and live in a godly manner”. many religions are about teachings and traditions as much as they are about “just being a good person and following god’s vibes” (which i feel like is INCREDIBLY standard in american protestantism)

i think a lot of it comes down to the fact that the forgotten realms (and a lot of fantasy tbh) treats the gods as just Very Powerful People instead of the forces of nature personified (and again this is to be expected from a christian culture, where jesus was Just A Guy)

[katebishopshands]

But I’m a Cheerleader ! !

(Cheerleader!Kate Bishop/ Reader)

Pt. 1

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Your team is good, you know it is. Yet, every year your team is a mere few points from winning the spirit stick at the end of your annual cheer camp.

You’re sure this is your teams year at camp. You and Yelena are captains this year and after a year full of successful competitions under your careful guidance, you’re sure anything is possible. That is until Kate Bishop walks through the gym doors.

Perfect as can be and cocky as hell, and the winner of the spirit stick for the last two years, the rival captain is the bane of your existence. Nothing, not even Kate Bishop will get in your way of that stick….unless?

(Not 18+…..YET)

»»-------------¤-------------««

Your ponytail was too tight, certain parts of your hair tugging on random places of your head. You took your hair down for what was probably the millionth time that morning and redid it. Eventually you ended up in the same spot you started with, a too tight ponytail pulling on your hair. Sighing, you gave up, instead choosing to focus on the spanx that seemed to be riding up your thighs as you stood in the too hot gym.

“Snap out of it!”, a slap to your bare shoulder made you jump, snapping the spandex on your thigh. Yelena smiled and laughed a bit at the look of concern on your face.

“Gotcha! But seriously cut it out”, the blonde dropped her smile into her regular resting face, which was scary enough. She could see the anxiety that you held in your shoulders. The way you fidgeted with your shorts, the way you bit your lip.

“I’m just worried we won’t get it this year” you crossed your arms frowning. For the last five years you had been on the team, not once had you been awarded the ever so coveted Spirit Stick. The stick was to go to the team that showed the morals of what cheer camp was supposed to be. The most spirited, dedicated,creative, and most improved over the course of the week. Initially, you weren’t upset. It was just some tradition that the camp did. That is until you noticed the same team got it year after year.

The Archers were your biggest competition. Coming from the same district you competed at all of the same competition, always coming in neck and neck with placements. You had been running circles around each other for years. And they never failed to get the Spirit Stick, ever.

“Natasha said we’re the best captains she’s seen in years, we’ve got this in the bag” Yelena was oozing with confidence. Blonde braid strewn over her shoulder, arms crossed showing off her biceps. She LOOKED Like a cheer captain.

“I don’t know if that counts Lena, she’s your sister. She HAS to be nice to you”

“That is not true! She said it as my coach…not as my sister” Yelena scoffs at you. You roll your eyes at her before turning around to converse with other team members.

Yelena getting the co captain spot with you was a topic of conversation in what you liked to call the “cheer verse”. Some teams were saying she only got the spot because Natasha is the coach and Yelena is her sister. But they couldn’t be more wrong. You had never met someone with a better work ethic than Yelena. She gave it her all, putting in overtime in the gym to perfect her tumbling, she was one of the strongest bases on the team. You had seen her throw herself on the ground to prevent her flyer from hitting the mat on multiple occasions. She deserved the role.

The conversations flowed freely as you bounced from group to group. More teams started filling in the room, each claiming a spot on the mat before the camp officially started. Some giant speaker blared music in the corner, effectively hyping up the crowd of cheerleaders. The noise level growing exponentially in the gym you stood in. A quick glance over the sea of athletes showed you one thing, The Archers had yet to arrive, and opening ceremony started at 12:30.

You double checked your phone for the time. The clock read 12:15. The team had 15 minutes to show. A surge of excitement coursed through your veins. The team not being in attendance this year meant you actually stood a chance at the spirit stick this year.

After monopolizing the spirit stick for so many years, The Archers had lived in your head rent free for way too long. Rumor had it they had a new captain this year, and part of you wished they sucked. It’d be so nice to watch the once great team crumble to nothing as yours did nothing but rise to the top.

A roar of clapping drags your from your revenge filled thoughts. You turn to face the entry way to the gym, struggling to see anything behind the sea of bows and ponytails that lie infront of you. You weave your way up to the front of the map where you’d have a clear view at the chaos. You manage to snag Yelena in the process, linking arms.

“What the hell is happening?” She looks at you before leaning forward to get a better look.

“Beats me, maybe we’re starting early??” You had five minutes to go, but it wasn’t completely out of the question.

Yelena makes a gagging sound followed by a disgusted “oh my god”.

“What! What’s happening!?” You ask frantically, wondering if maybe someone has already hurled and camp hadn’t even started yet. Yelena yanks your arm down, making you lean forward like her.

It doesn’t take you long to see why Yelena gagged. In the entry way of the gym, stood The Archers. The crowed cheered, the spirit stick being held confidently in the new captains hand. The stick had been decked out in their team colors, purple and black. Your eyes follow down the black nail polished hand and arm that held onto the spirit stick, eventually making eye contact with the holder.

Kate. Bishop.

She was your least favorite person on this planet.

She had joined The Archers at the same time you had joined your team. And ever since then it had been a constant competition between you two. You got your tuck? Kate got her round off tuck. Kate was point for jumps? Oh yours were now hyperextended and you were also center point. Wherever you went, you were both in the others orbit. She was perfect, even if you didn’t want to admit it. If only she wasn’t a cocky son of a bitch, you might admire her a bit.

So Kate Bishop was the new captain, of course she was. Of course she was captain the year you got to be captain.

“Kate Bishop…” Yelena sneers as Kate gives you both a smirk. You could’ve swore Yelena growled at her

Kates blue eyes linger on you a little longer than you would’ve expected. She lets her smirk drop a little into a facial expression you can’t quite put your finger on. You watch as her gaze is pulled from your form. America Chavez, another rival of yours, who you’ve collected from observing the team is the co captain with Kate, jumps the other girl, grabbing the spirit stick and eliciting another roar of cheers from the crowd.

Kate flashes America a dazzling smile and puts her arm around the other girl in a side hug. Their coach, and Coach Nats biggest rival, Clint Barton, shoves his captains aside as he gears the team towards a new spot on the mat. Kate turns her head back in your direction as she follows Barton’s lead, her black ponytail swinging in tandem. She catches your eye again, resulting in you crossing her arms and raising and eyebrow at her. She smiles and bites her lip a little before sending a wink your way.

You stomach drops. Feeling as if you drank TV static. What the fuck. You swallow the spit in your mouth nervously as Kate continues to follow her team. Suddenly your tongue felt too heavy in your mouth and your palms were clammier than you remembered.

“Fuck them, seriously, fuck them” Yelena mutters as she walks back towards Coach Nat at the back of the mat.

“I hate them so much” you join in on the menagerie of negativity in an attempt to push down your weird feelings about Kates wink.

“I swear I want to crush their little skulls into this mat..” Yelena cracks her knuckles to punctuate her feelings. You put your hand on her shoulder, making her look at you face to face.

“I promise. This year is our year. Nothing..and I mean nothing, not even Kate Bishop’s perfect ass can keep us from wining that spirit stick”

»»-------------¤-------------««

“On the doors are your names, please move your junk into your dorms. We’ve got dinner in 30 so make it quick” Natasha stands at the end of the hallway, arms crossed. You groan, and begin dragging your luggage down the dimly lit hallway, searching for your name.

Eventually you found it at the halfway point of the hall. Your name was written on a little megaphone ins sparkly letters, cute.

Taking your key off your neck you unlock your door. The dorm smelled musty, a fine layer of dust piling on the windowsill. Clearly the room had not been cleaned since the sad freshman moved out at the end of the spring semester. It felt like cheer camp.

The doorknob on the left side of the room jiggles, eventually busting open. Yelena falls through it, a big smile plastered on her face.

“Look! We’re neighbors!”

Part of you was sad that you guys weren’t sharing a room, but the other part of you was incredibly grateful. Yelena lived in a constant state of tornado. All of her belongings strewn across the room. Being captain had some perks, such as a single room. Sharing a bathroom for a week with Yelena was doable, but a room might kill you.

You give a smile back to her before gonna to poke your head out of the door that you had left propped open. Another team on the other side of you had begun to move their things in. So you were the bookend of your own team, great. This was a perfect way to make sure everyone was in bed during lights out and doing what they were supposed to be doing. Being well rested and punctual was crucial to your teams success at camp this year.

As you observed the excited girls giggling as they moved in to their new homes for the week, your vision was blocked. Blue eyes and full dark brows crowed your eyesight.

“Oh..hi” you knew the voice. You knew it too well. Kate Bishop was standing a mere few inches away from your face.

“Hello..” you clenched to your jaw. Staring at her stupid perfect face. Beauty marks scattered across it, full lips and lashes. You could’ve gone the entire week without hearing her voice, but of course you literally almost bump heads with her in the first hour.

“Looks like we’re neighbors…” Kate’s arms are crossed. She stands defensively opposite of you.

“I guess so”

She glances you up and down again. And once again that static fuzz feeling fills your gut. Goosebumps prick up on your exposed arms and you feel your cheeks flush a bit.

“Just…try not to be too loud at night..I want to get good sleep this week. Be on top of my game” you break the silence with an awkward blurt. She chuckles a little bit and leans toward you a little. You had never been this close to her. She smelled nice. Like lavender and chai with a hint of her deodorant. Probably some expensive perfume she has.

“I’ll try my best. But honestly..” her eyes make contact with your lips before she looks back up at you,

“I even think at the top of your game, you and your team still won’t win the spirit stick this year..” she chuckles a little bit. The snarky remark you wanted to make dies in your throat. Your fingers making contact with your lips, where Kate was just looking.

America calls for Kate down the hall.

“Coming!!” Kate stands up to her full height and genuinely smiles at you before turning on her heels and making her way towards America. But not before she sent another wink in your direction.

She left you standing in the hallway, blood boiling, hands clenched into fists at your sides and that tv static in your gut. If this was a cartoon, steam would be shooting out of your ears.

You were going to pummel Kate Bishops perky ponytail into the ground and rip the spirit stick out of her cold dead hands….or at-least, you hoped you could..

»»-------------¤-------------««

Omg hi guys!! I thought I’d try something new for this piece?? It’s for sure gonna be multiple parts and I promise you it’s gonna get HOT real soon. So stay tuned, this was just an introduction to the cheerverse

-ET🏹

[tommysversion]

Beastly: Raider Era Joel Miller x Reader (Part 1)

Summary: you live in a small commune protected by a strong force of raiders. Every season, your people pay tribute for their protection. After lapsing in payment, your abusive father offers you as a human sacrifice. What you don't expect is for the leader of the gang, Joel, to not be as much of a beastly man as first thought.

A Raider Era Joel fic, loosely inspired by Beauty & The Beast.

CWs: references to abuse (physical), implied fear of SA, canon typical violence, implied age gap, sexual references, coarse language, smut for later chapters. (List will update with chapters)

Chapter Word Count: 3k

Thanks to @gab-thelamb-onthemoon & @joelsgirl for being beta readers & allowing me to infodump about this idea, ILY

Index: Part 2

It’s amazing, how long it took society to peak, in comparison to how easily it fell apart. Rome wasn’t built in a day, but it sure burned in one. In a short fifteen years, since Cordyceps first spread globally, society has all but collapsed. 

Oh, sure, there are the QZs, where FEDRA rules with an iron fist. There are smaller settlements where people try to strive for a semblance of ‘normality’. 

But mostly? The world outside the military strict QZs has become lawless. It’s kill or be killed, serve or rule, protect or intimidate. 

Whereas some people have banded together for the greater good of humanity, for the continued survival of the species? Others have taken advantage of the new order of things, are only out for themselves and those they hold dear. 

Joel Miller falls into the latter category. 

Maybe once, before the outbreak, he had been a good man. Had had a strong moral compass, a good ethic. He’d been a family man, loved his daughter and his brother more than anything or anyone in the world. 

Then the world had gone to hell, taken his daughter from him, and something inside him had broken. It was as though a light had gone out inside him, turning his humanity off. 

Gone was the man who had made jokes and smiled easily. In his place was a man scarred and traumatised, who was capable of enormous acts of violence and brutality, who would survive at any and all cost, not for his sake, not really, but for his brother. The only family he had left. 

Joel had always been a natural leader, if somewhat reluctant. It had come easily to him, before the outbreak. He was always the damn union rep on site. Always the one people came to for advice, looked to for leadership. Not just Tommy, or colleagues he’d known for years either. He always ended up with an apprentice following him round like a chained puppy, asking questions, looking for guidance. 

Maybe it shouldn’t be a surprise at all that he had ended up the leader of this band of people, either. Some were misfits, those who were too anxious to try and venture to the nearest QZ and survive under FEDRA. Some were miscreants who preferred the more lawless lifestyle, who needed a leader so they didn’t venture into abject cruelty. Then there were those like him, who just wanted to survive. Keep going for whatever or whoever they had left. 

Joel didn’t necessarily want to live, but he was fucking good at it. 

Without his humanity, it made him a damn good leader. His group protected several small settlements, in exchange for supplies. Weapons. Whatever the fuck they wanted. 

It was a good deal… for his people. The infected didn’t venture this far out anymore, but the good people in those settlements didn’t need to know that, did they? Their living in fear was his bonus. It kept them in line, and it kept his people alive. 

Recently, one of the settlements fell to disease. Leaving just the one small community under his group’s thumb. The occupants aren’t particularly tough, or particularly smart, just ordinary people who have had the luck to survive behind moderately well constructed walls, the wits to bow to those stronger than them for protection. 

Only, their resources are running out, spread thin with the approaching winter…

Which is where you come in. 

--

You’re old enough to remember the world before. Maybe you hadn’t been an adult, so you hadn’t had to deal with things the older folks in your community grumble on occasion about missing - work, taxes (mostly something called a tax return), good liquor, supermarkets… 

But you do remember. 

You remember the world changing overnight. Remember years of struggling, clawing for survival, until this commune had finally put its walls up and hoped for the best. 

Then the infected had come, and you’d lost half your numbers. The raiders had taken advantage of the weakness in your people, taken out the infected… for a price. 

Now each quarter, your people paid ‘tribute’ to the group of men and women who kept the infected at bay. Really, it was a bribe to keep them from taking over your settlement. Every three months the same half dozen men would show up, fill their truck with supplies and weapons your people had gathered, desperately needed, and promise another three months protection for it. 

Nobody’s been attacked since the deal was struck. You guess that’s a good thing. Or there’s something they aren’t telling you. 

Your father is the closest thing to a mayor your community has. There aren’t enough of you to need a proper governing body beyond a handful of people, but somehow the task of leadership has fallen to him. Perhaps because nobody else wants to be labeled as the one who bows to the raiders. Or maybe it’s because the last mayor your town had was beaten to death by said raiders for non-compliance, and your father was the only one brave (stupid) enough to volunteer for the job after.

You aren’t stupid. You know a bribe for what it is. Only this quarter, you aren’t sure what the plan is. 

The crop yield has been relatively scarce this season. With winter approaching, the settlement doesn’t have much to offer. You’re not stupid, but you know it won’t be enough. 

Usually, you stay home when the raiders come for their tribute. Stay inside with the few children of the commune. 

This time is different. Your father is lacing his boots, throwing on his threadbare coat, when he springs it on you. 

“You’re coming too, this time. We need to show our numbers.” 

It doesn’t occur to you until you’re halfway to what passes as the town square that that’s the precise opposite of what your father usually says. That a show of strength is what got his predecessor killed. But you know better than to question him; he won’t shout at you, he’ll just be condescending, or more likely, won’t answer you at all.

You suppose your curiosity will have to wait, and hope he doesn’t get you all killed.

--

Joel usually sends half a dozen of his people to collect the tribute from the settlement they ‘protect’. It’s a thinly veiled intimidation, closer to extortion than anything else, but it keeps his people fed and lets them bully others, which some of his people need. 

But the last two seasons, their offerings have been slim at best, pissing the most restless of his people off. Joel has no issue with violence. No issue with killing people, or intimidation. But he also knows that starting a bloodbath in their supply settlement is a stupid idea, even if some of his men don’t. 

Which has led him to here. Two men sit in the truck, shoulder to shoulder. One sits in the tray, gripping the roof bar with one hand, a rifle dangling lazily from the other. 

Two others ride beside him, a little behind, in an arrow formation. It didn’t bother Owen to stay behind with the rest of the group. There’s better things he could be doing. If anyone was surprised at Joel deciding to go with them on this run? He hasn’t heard a word of it. 

If anything, they probably think it means he’s planning some sort of punishment for their friends in the settlement. Hell, if they don’t pay up? He’s not against it. 

It never ceases to amaze him just how pathetic these people are. He hasn’t visited the settlement personally in a year or so, but the occupants are still just as miserable. Just as downtrodden and fearful, hiding behind their shitty tin walls and the hope that his folks will protect them. It’s that fear that keeps his people fed, keeps these townspeople in line.

They don’t need to know that there are so few infected out here now, that Joel and his group are probably the biggest - if not only – threat remaining to them. Fear keeps them in line, and if they step out of line? Well, he and his gang aren’t above beating a reminder into them. It’s happened before.

The truck rolls to a stop behind him as they make their way to the centre of the settlement. He dismounts his horse, steps forward to greet the leader of the place. He’s met this man once before, the season after he took out the old mayor for trying to defy him. Beating a man to death isn’t pleasant to witness, but Joel had no problem with committing the act.

His replacement is a small, round man who always wears the same threadbare overcoat, the same twitchy air of nervousness around him, the same oily obedience.

How a man like that became what passes for mayor, Joel has no idea. He’s just as spineless as the rest, just as cowardly, eager to snivel and beg for protection, offering up whatever it takes to save his own skin. It’s a way to live, Joel supposes, but he would never stoop so low.

“Morris.” Joel greets the other man with a cold nod of his head, reaches out a gloved hand for him to shake. All formality. All pleasantries. As if the six men he’s brought with him aren’t capable of gunning down this entire settlement, if he so chooses. Hell, he could probably do it by himself. 

“I’m surprised to see you.” Morris admits as he steps forward from the small group of townsfolk. Joel’s gaze sweeps over them all; a few new faces, his eyes boring into each unfamiliar one. One bears a resemblance to the mayor. Interesting.

His gaze leaves the crowd, returns to the man in front of him.

“We need to have a little chat.”

--

“You don’t say a word. Nobody will benefit from your attempts at being a diplomat.” Your father cautions you as you reach the centre of town. It’s not a long walk. The settlement is barely big enough to call a commune, but still.

You don’t dignify him with an answer, just nod. There’s no point in trying to argue with him, try and prove that you’re an asset. He’s too set in his ways, too firm in the belief that women – especially young ones- should be seen and not heard.

So instead you keep your mouth shut, take your place. Watch the convoy come in. It’s different, being out on the street rather than peeking out a window when they roll in.

The usual truck, two men in the cab, one in the tray, slapping the roof to signal to stop. You’re not familiar enough with their faces, but you assume they’re the same men who come every quarter. Two men on horses, flanking a third.

It’s the third man who interests you, only slightly. Mostly because of the way your father tenses, the way some of the others shift nervously. You vaguely recognise this man; the leader of the group of raiders. The one who had no problem with violence, with getting rid of the old mayor when he didn’t want to play ball.

He’s older, maybe late forties, broad shouldered and has a sort of deadened glint to his dark eyes. Vaguely, you catch yourself wondering what he did, or what happened to him, to put that look in his gaze.

Those cold dark eyes take stock of the place, sweep across each member of your community. His gaze pauses on you, very briefly, flickers to your father then back, recognition. Then he looks away, back to your father.

“We need to have a little chat,” the unknown man says, “your quota has been low, Morris.”

Even in the cold, you can see your father start to sweat. He’s no great hero; his leadership perches precariously on his willingness to bow to whatever this gang of raiders wants. There’s no way of fighting them, and quite frankly? There are worse things out there.

“We’ve had a hard few seasons… Maybe we can make it up in spring?” Your father suggests, trying to sound complacent, apologetic. Mostly, it just sounds desperate.

You wonder if the leader of the gang thinks so, too.

“Now, Morris, you’re already short. Have been for the last two seasons. Maybe if we’d had this little chat earlier, I’d be more inclined to accept the request, but, well… winter’s on its way. It’s hard out there, and these walls you have are so flimsy… anything could happen.”

Your father’s face blanches, clearly aware he’s stepping on toes that shouldn’t be stepped on.

“We have… some supplies in reserve. You can take from there.”

It shouldn’t even surprise you, that he offers up the town’s emergency stockpile to save his own skin, probably thinking of his predecessor. It bothers you, though, makes your skin crawl to see the men from the gang open the barn where the supplies are kept, start hauling them into the back of the truck. Those supplies are for emergencies. For the children, the elderly, the sick. Maybe that’s why you open your mouth.

“Those supplies are for our elderly. Our children.”

The look your father gives you is piercing, promising violence, a sharp retribution later, but you don’t care.

“Excuse my daughter, Joel. She doesn’t understand the way things work, likes to talk when the men are talking.”

You expect the gang leader – Joel – to agree, to ignore you. Instead, he turns that depthless gaze onto you.

“What would you have me do, hm? We have a deal, you know that.” It’s unspoken what he’s implying – he has people relying on him, too.

You’re smart enough to know that it’s a rhetorical question.

“Besides.” Joel turns his attention to the truck, shakes his head. “Even with your stockpile, you’re short. Considerably so. Maybe we should stick around. See why your productivity is so low.”

The threat is implicit. Maybe it’s the threat. Maybe it’s anger at you for speaking out. Or maybe it’s the simple fact that your father is a piece of shit. Still, you don’t expect what happens next.

--

Joel doesn’t want to stick around this small town, with its cowed population and snivelling misogynist of a mayor. He’d rather take what they are owed and go, but they’re up short once again. Not by much, but it’s the principle of the matter. Of making sure Morris knows his place, knows that he and Joel are in no way equals.

He projects the very image of an alpha male, broad and cocky, one hand resting on the pistol at his hip. Casually threatening, and he knows Morris is thinking of the idiot before him. Maybe he should just shoot him, see whether someone smarter replaces him. Smarter and less irritating.

Maybe the other man can see how easily he’s contemplating his death.

“Wait. Wait. I have another offer.”

Joel raises an eyebrow.

“And what could you possibly have, Morris? As you’ve said, you’ve had a difficult harvest, you’ve had to break into your emergency supplies. What do you possibly have to trade to save your own skin?” He makes zero effort to hide his disgust.

“Her.” Morris jerks a shaky thumb to the younger woman beside him, the one who’s clearly his daughter, the one who spoke up.

Joel is so startled by the suggestion that he almost outright refuses.

“What?” It comes out blunter than he planned, as if he’s misheard. Because there’s no way that this idiot is offering up his own daughter as some sort of human sacrifice.

“Take her. I don’t care what you do with her, she’s a complete disappointment. Maybe you can teach her some manners, beat her into submission, God knows I’ve tried. Take her and give us immunity until next fall. Let us rebuild our crops.”

Joel looks past Morris to you, small and nondescript. Then again, everyone is small to him. You look like someone’s just pulled the ground out from under you. Shocked. Horrified. He knows then what you’re thinking, what you’re assuming will happen to you. But he also knows now what happens to you if he leaves you here.

Joel Miller may have lost his humanity, but he was a father once. And he can’t imagine ever, ever offering his own child up as a human sacrifice to save his own skin.

And suddenly, it doesn’t matter about making a quota. What matters is getting you as far away from this place as possible. Away from sharp words and balled fists. Because somewhere, somewhere, buried deep down, a portion of the man he once was is stirring.

“The end of next fall. A year.” Joel agrees, tries not to watch the way Morris shoves you forward to what could well be your doom.

You’re shaking. Can’t even form a protest, for all the good it would do.

Sacrifice. Tribute. Offering. As if you’re no more than another object to be traded. Your father doesn’t even flinch as Joel seizes your wrist, pulls you towards his horse.

“Get on.” His voice is low, but not menacing. If anything he sounds almost sorry. It has to be some sort of trap; you’re certain that when you’re back at their base camp, he’ll have no problem with cruelty, with putting his hands on you. Forcing you, if the mood takes him. Maybe it’s better to just do as he demands.

Shakily, you climb up onto the horse, sit awkward and uncomfortable, tensing when he swings himself up behind you, broad arms keeping you in place as he seizes the reins, gives a nod to his men, who finish loading up and pile back into the truck, onto their own horses.

He throws a final derisive look to your father. The man who sold you.

“One year, Morris. Better get your shit together.” Then he nudges the horse, and rides you both out of the only home you’ve known for years.

[thecuriousquest]

Platonic Yandere Teacher Shouta Aizawa Headcanons

Platonic Yandere Aizawa x Reader

Warnings: Yandere themes, manipulative behavior, isolation, controlling behavior

Checkout my Master List here.

————

Alright, so you’re a student of Aizawa’s. This can go two different ways depending on how you are. If you’re a good student, you don’t even have to be top of the class (although it’ll probably give you more points if you are), he’s going to be more patient with you.

He treats you as a favorite. You’ll literally become a teacher’s pet.

It’s easy for you to look up to him since he’ll willingly give you guidance towards being a pro hero. He’s the type that will hold you after class just to sit down with you and go over hero ethics or how to properly rescue people. It makes his heart so happy when he sees you attentively jot down notes.

He’s teaching you martial arts and skills you can use outside of your quirk. It doesn’t hurt to have a few tricks up your sleeve after all.

Shouta is going to also be very protective of you. If you find yourself in trouble against a villain (because Class 1-A has become very prone to attacks), you’re the first one he’s going to make sure is alright.

^This is the constant expression he’s giving you if you’re a rebellious student just so you know. He’s going to be very strict with you. You’ll be under house arrest more often than not just so he can keep tabs on you. Don’t worry, you won’t fall behind because he’s going to give you private tutoring sessions on all of your work. Is he isolating you? Totally. Does he feel bad in the slightest? Nah. You deserve it for being such a bad girl after all.

He has no patience at all for your unruliness. Be super grateful that he can’t use corporal punishment. The fact that he even has to tell you to have good manners is exhausting for him. He can’t help but take a liking to you, however. To him, you’re like a lost puppy who just needs some help getting back on the right path.

He’s constantly calling you out in class, putting you on the spot, trying to force a wrong answer out of you. You surprise him a lot when you tell him the correct answer even though he could’ve sworn you weren’t listening.

You told Yaoyorozu that you have a crush and they’re interested in you as well. He’s expelled the next day, and you’re forced to run laps. Aizawa only smirks while you wipe tears from your face as your chance at romance was thrown out the goddamn window.

He’s still very protective of you. You’re more than his responsibility. After all the nights he’s spent talking to you about your behavior, disciplining you for your unruliness, and tutoring you to make sure you don’t fall behind, he now views himself as your father figure.

[maximoffcarter]

Cold.

Pairings: Casey Novak x reader.

Summary: Based on 9x19: Cold. The squad is involved in a mess made by Lake without any guidance of what really happened. Casey Novak had made sure to tell all of them that they would do it by the book; reader was willing to do anything as long as it was the right thing to do, but once she finds out her girlfriend is getting too carried away, she has to stop her.

A/n: This was requested by an anon, and lemme be honest with you here...I have rewatched SVU so many times, from season 2 to probably season 19 (mostly because I love rewatching from 2 to 9), but the truth is that I have seen this episode probably 2 times in my life, 3 if we count this time. The way I feel so frustrated that they decided to 'end' Casey's character this way, was so frustrating for me, I actually sobbed knowing Casey wouldn't be back the first time that I watched it. Of course, after that, Casey's farewell was not any better, and I'll forever be mad. So I thank the anon who asked for this request for giving me the chance to rewrite this and pretend as if Casey never actually left. There is some angst, some things I changed, but I do hope you guys enjoy this. Enjoy and leave your comments, reblogs, hearts, whatever you'd like, will be very much appreciated🫶🏻

*not my gif*

For the last five years that Casey Novak had been working in Sex Crimes, she learned that life was definitely not fair, and justice was not what they painted in Law School. She had tried her best to surpass the guilt whenever she lost a case, to move on and go on with the next case, she saw how the squad easily did it. Of course she knew it wasn’t easy, she knew that it also hurt them, and they probably carried it with them for a long time, maybe for their whole life. She had talked about many cases with them, some that they remembered from years ago, some that were never forgotten. She also learned that working with SVU, definitely changed her way of thinking; when she started working with them, she wanted to do everything by the book, because she had heard that sometimes the squad made things they were not supposed to do just to favor them, which of course part of her understood why they did what they did, but she needed to go by the book or the DA’s office would go for her head. She slowly grew up with them, which also meant that her work ethic changed entirely once she learned that sometimes, they didn’t have to go by the book; do it legally, but not exactly in order.

Casey learned that the squad always had each other’s back, and slowly, they started having hers, which made her believe that they had accepted her as part of their family. They had their ups and downs, Casey got on their nerves just as much as they got in hers, she learned to treat them, she learned to go at their same pace, she learned to be part of their squad, and truth to be told, she did not regret anything. Branch and Donnelly had warned her about how the squad worked, and that she had to look out for herself and not exactly them, but Cragen’s words always stuck with her; it was only them, they only had themselves, no one else, and she learned to embrace that. She learned so many things from them, things she’d always cherish, things that would always stay with her, things that still upset her but, they were her family, and she’d do anything for them.

Meeting y/n had been the best part of joining SVU, she was also a new recruit and both of them basically grew together in the job, bringing them together; what started as a friendship, became more as the time passed, and even if it was unexpected, they were more than happy to embrace it. They both learned from each other, and even if y/n was more on Casey’s side than the squads, sometimes y/n had her moments where she really needed to be on the squads side, just because she knew they tried their best. They supported their rights and wrongs, y/n joked that she’d always accept any wrong that Casey did, and she’d be by her side no matter what, and Casey believed the same, she had joked that she’d get y/n out of any possible problem, even if it meant getting herself in trouble; and y/n knew she meant that. Doing it for another person? Y/n would always protect her squad, always. Casey? She would, she loved them. But get as far as losing her job for them? Y/n didn’t think so. Right?

“Casey clearly said we cannot question him, Elliot. Are you really gonna go to the hospital and do exactly what she said we could not do?” Y/n asked as she followed Elliot and Olivia to their car.

“We need to know what we’re dealing with, y/l/n. We’re basically blind here, how are we supposed to help him if he’s not letting us?” Elliot turned to look at y/n as he opened the door of the car.

Y/n shrugged. “Elliot…” she sighed. “I know this is not looking good, we have no idea what really happened here. But we cannot just go and do what we’re not supposed to do. We need to stick to what Cragen and Casey said.”

“We’re just gonna check on him, y/n. Nothing more.” Olivia shrugged as she looked at y/n.

Y/n scoffed. “You don’t even believe that yourself, Liv.”

“If you wanna go by your girlfriend’s rules, we won’t blame you. But don’t try to stop us from doing our jobs.” Elliot said before he got in the car, followed by Olivia.

Y/n sighed as she watched them go. “You know them, and honestly, I don’t blame them.” Melinda said as she stood beside y/n.

Y/n turned her head to look at her. “I don’t like this at all. I know he has a reason for why he did this, but this is not looking any good. Right?”

Melinda sighed as she shook her head. “No, not at all.”

********************

“I take it that you knew Elliot and Olivia were going to the hospital to see Lake.” Casey looked up as y/n walked in her office, closing the door behind her.

Y/n sighed. “I promise that I tried to stop them. They’re stubborn.”

“Just like someone I know.” Casey grinned.

Y/n chuckled softly as she sat on a chair, sighing. “What are we gonna do, Case? Melinda ruled it a homicide.”

Casey shrugged. “Get as much evidence as we possibly can and hope for the best.” She looked at y/n with a serious look on her face. “We need to do this by the book, y/n. We cannot risk anything here.”

Y/n nodded. “I know.” She sighed as she stood up and walked to Casey, pushing her chair, and sitting on her lap, wrapping her arms around her neck. “Everything will be okay, and whatever you need, I’ll be here.”

Casey smiled as she wrapped her arms around y/n’s waist. “I know you will. You’re the only one who listens to me.”

“And they hate me for that.” Y/n chuckled softly.

“You’re just being a good girl.” Casey grinned as she leaned in to kiss her lips softly.

“I am.” Y/n said against her lips, kissing her again but the kiss was interrupted by her cellphone, groaning softly as she pulled it out. “Y/l/n.” She frowned and pulled away from Casey. “I’m on my way.” She hung up the call and looked at Casey. “He’s not at the hospital.”

Casey sighed. “Damnit, Lake.”

“I gotta go, I’ll call you if anything comes up.” Y/n kissed her lips one more time before standing up.

“Please do and be safe!” Casey sighed as she saw her girlfriend go. This was definitely going the wrong path.

********************

“I know what you want me to say, but the science doesn’t support it.” Melinda said as she stared back at Casey.

Casey stared back at Melinda, taking a deep breath. “When the defence gets these lab reports, they might have enough for reasonable doubt.” She stopped for a moment as she stared at Melinda. “Can you live with that?”

Melinda shook her head. “If I have to. Because I sure as hell won’t risk my reputation for a verdict we didn’t earn.”

Casey stared at Melinda for longer than she wanted to, she could tell the stare she was giving her as Melinda took a step back and her face relaxed; Casey was definitely upset, and she didn’t mean to be upset at what she was saying, but none of this was gonna help them win the case. She only thanked Melinda and left the office, walking as fast as she could to get out of the building and get some fresh air. She was frustrated that this was happening, the last thing she had expected was to have to deal with something like this with one of the detectives. She knew they could do dumb stuff, she had to get them out of trouble before, but something like this? Never in a million years did she expect that something like this would happen and that she’d have to solve it. Not only that, but actually thinking about risking her career for it. She decided to go back home as she thought going back to the office was no use, she’d only be frustrated to be there and she didn’t need any interruptions from the squad, so she took all the files home. She was making some notes when she heard the door closing.

“Hi baby.” Casey said softly as y/n walked to the living room, looking up to offer a smile but the look on her girlfriend’s face told her that something had happened. “What’s wrong?” Her smile fainted then, scared that something else had happened.

“Tell me why Melinda called me and told me to make sure you were not about to do something stupid.” Y/n crossed her arms as she stared at Casey, standing right in front of her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Casey simply said.

“Don’t lie to me, Casey. I thought you said we had to do this by the book. You were the first one to say that we could not question Lake, and to have you updated on everything. And now Melinda tells me that you want to risk your job?” Y/n shook her head. “Please tell me she’s just tired and she read the room wrong.”

Casey sighed as she put aside her notepad, looking up at y/n. “If the defense gets this, they’ll have enough proof to let him walk free, and then we’re screwed. We won’t even have a chance to save Lake from this.”

“Casey, I hate to say it and be harsh about it, but he got himself into this fucking mess, he didn’t want our help until he saw he was really drowning. You need to do what you can, and that’s it.”

“If I can do more, trust me, I will, y/n. There’s still a chance.”

“A chance?! And what do you have to do to get this chance, Casey? Hide the evidence? Stop Melinda from testifying?”

“She’ll say what she told me and describe it as best as she can.”

Y/n stared at Casey and shook her head. “Please tell me the evidence was sent.” She stared at Casey with concern on her face. Casey looked down at her hands and sighed. “Fuck Casey…” y/n ran her hands through her hair, starting to pace around the room. “You said we’d go by the book!”

“If we let them have it, we won’t win this case!” Casey stood up from the couch then, feeling frustration wash over her body.

Y/n turned to look back at Casey. “And you think they won’t find out?! It’s Donna for fuck sakes, Casey! It’s fucking Petrovsky! You want to get in trouble?!”

“I’ll say the reports are not complete yet! I’ll send them, just not yet, not by tomorrow.”

Y/n scoffed. “What the hell is wrong with you, Casey?! You could lose your job for this!”

“Wouldn’t you do the same?! He’s part of your squad! Other times, I see you guys doing the impossible to be able to get the minimum of evidence, and now you guys are stopping yourselves and doing nothing!”

“Because you told us not to! For once, we’re listening, Casey! And you’re the one screwing around! If you do this, you’re risking your license, and you know it!” Y/n shook her head. “And don’t give me that crap that if this isn’t justice, you don’t wanna do this anymore, because we both know you wouldn’t want to lose your career over something like this.”

“I’m doing what I’m supposed to do. He needs to go to jail.” Casey walked to y/n, trying to stop her from pacing around the living room.

Y/n scoffed, standing right in front of her. “Are you doing this for justice or for Lake?” She raised her brows.

Casey frowned and shook her head. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re gonna tell me that Lake didn’t want to go on a date with you before he found out you and I were dating. Oh, because I remind you that you didn’t say shit about it, and you just played along. Yeah, Fin told me about it.”

Casey scoffed. “Are you doing this because you’re jealous of him? Nothing happened and that was nothing, and you know that! This is not about him.”

“You said it, we’re not doing anything for him. You’re so worried for him, you’re willing to cover up for him and risk your job.”

“I’d do the same and more for you.”

“It’s not me who fucked up.” Y/n snapped, her eyes never leaving Casey’s. “I’m right here, doing exactly what you asked me to do. And I expect you to do the same, Casey.”

“Or what?” Casey snapped.

Y/n shook her head. “I seriously cannot believe you. You’re truly unbelievable. I am not gonna let you do this.” She walked out of the living room, not wanting to look at Casey anymore.

“Where are you going?!” Casey followed her, trying to ignore the range she felt.

“Ask Lake, since you’re teaming up with him now.” Y/n snapped before she walked out of the apartment and slammed the door closed.

Y/n would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a little jealous at the thought of Casey worrying too much about this case. She knew that Casey was mainly doing this to put that bastard behind bars, she was right, he deserved to go to jail, and he was the only person she could prosecute. If they didn’t win this, Lake would be in more trouble. And it’s not that she didn’t care about him, she did, but he had decided to drown himself until it was too late to ask for help. There was still a slight chance, but even then, there was nothing else they could do to help him. Y/n was angry that Casey was putting someone else before herself, she didn’t care it wasn’t for her, she knew Casey meant it when she said she’d do this and more for y/n, because y/n would do the same for Casey. But the thought of knowing that Casey was going to risk her career over this, made her angry and helpless. She didn’t know where she was going, it was still early, she could either go to the precinct to try to find anything else to help the case, or she could simply walk around to calm her anger. But before she could figure out where she was heading, she was walking inside a building and into the elevator. She kept fidgeting with the promise ring that Casey had given her, trying to control both her anxiety and her anger. As the doors opened, she walked through the hallway and for a moment stood by the door before knocking.

“Come on in.”

Y/n opened the door and took a deep breath. “Donnelly.”

Elizabeth looked at y/n and huffed a laugh. “C’mon, y/n. Drop the mannerisms. Anything I can help you with?”

Y/n sighed as she closed the door and smiled shyly. “I sure hope you can.”

Elizabeth stared at her for a moment before she took her glasses off, putting them on her desk and looking back at her. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“I am. This is about Casey.” Y/n said as she sat down.

“Is she okay? What happened?”

“She’s okay, for now. But I need you to take Casey off the Crane case.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Why would you want me to kick your girlfriend off this case? She’s your ADA. I don’t want to hear if you both had a fight over something stu-“

“She’s thinking about doing something stupid, Liz. And if I’m here, it’s not for you to tell on her, but to help me avoid it before it’s too late.” Y/n stared at her with a serious look.

“I need more than that, y/n.” Elizabeth raised her brow.

“She wants to hold the file that provides the evidence of the case, which is sort of more help to the defense than to us.” Y/n sighed as she shook her head. “I know she’ll hate me for telling you this, I…I might even lose her for this.” She huffed a chuckle. “But Liz…you need to take her off the case. I don’t want her losing her license and I know you don’t want this for her either. You can scold her, suspend her, whatever but please…don’t let her ruin her career. We both know this is not Casey.”

Elizabeth sighed as she shook her head. “Y/n…if she’s willing to do this-“

“She doesn’t know what she’s doing. I know me telling you this has the same risk if she does it anyway. But I want you to consider that I came here so you can stop it before this actually goes further. Please, Elizabeth. I know you don’t want Casey to ruin her career too. Please.” Y/n whispered softly as she felt tears in her eyes.

Elizabeth nodded as she sighed. “I’ll call Melinda and tell her to send me a copy, I’ll send the file myself and assign someone else to the case. I’ll call Casey to come to the office.”

Y/n tilted her head. “Will you report her?”

Elizabeth stared at her for a moment. She shook her head as she sighed. “No. But she will be punished for this. You too know that what she’s doing is not right.”

“And that’s why I came to you for help.”

“I know. I do wish you luck, though.” Elizabeth offered a faint smile.

Y/n sighed. “I think she already hates me. This will only be a bonus.”

Y/n talked to Elizabeth for a while until she decided she’d go back to the precinct to clear her mind for a bit, trying to talk to the rest of the squad, updating herself on where they were with the case. Two hours or so passed before Cragen broke the news that they had a new ADA for the case, and that whatever happened, they now had to inform her instead of Casey. Of course everyone stared at y/n, confused as to what was happening but y/n had no words, she had nothing to say about it, even if she wanted to tell them that it was her fault, that all of this would go to hell because of her, she just didn’t want them to find out yet, she had enough with arguing with Casey, and the last thing she needed was the squad yelling at her.

Eventually, she decided to go home, knowing that as much as she tried to keep herself busy, she couldn’t avoid Casey forever. She took her time to walk back home, missing one subway and then taking her time to walk back home. She took a deep breath once she was right in front of her door, getting her keys and opening the door slowly, noticing that most of the lights were off. She made sure to lock the door, and slowly walked through the apartment, until she noticed that the light for their bedroom was on, perfectly knowing that Casey was there. She took a deep breath before she walked inside the bedroom, finding Casey sitting at the edge of their bed, her arms crossed and her eyes staring at the floor. Y/n thought for a moment to go to the bathroom and give Casey a bit more time, but she was worried and scared of what had happened in Elizabeth’s office, so she decided to accept whatever was coming.

“Casey.” Y/n whispered softly.

“You went to Donnelly.” Casey simply said, her eyes still staring at the floor.

Y/n sighed softly. “I had to, Casey.”

“You didn’t have to do anything. I told you I’d deal with this.” Casey’s voice was low, she was not yelling, she was not going off on y/n -yet-, but y/n could definitely tell that she was filled with anger.

“I was not going to let you lose your job.”

“Even if it meant going to my boss and telling her what I was doing, knowing perfectly that the result could be the same.” Casey finally looked up at her, her eyes puffy and red.

Y/n’s heart sank as she stared at Casey. “Casey…I-I asked Elizabeth to not let you do this, so you didn’t lose your license. I didn’t-“

“She just suspended me. A month without payment.” Casey sighed. “And I’m off the case.”

Y/n almost sighed loudly in relief but knew that it could piss Casey even more. “I’m sorry, I-“

“No, you’re not.” Casey shook her head as she stood up, walking to y/n. “You’re not sorry. You decided to go to her to tell her what I was doing, and you thought you were doing this for me, but you were not. You didn’t want to deal with whatever happened next.”

“Casey, that’s not-“

“You were jealous that Lake was interested in me, that he tried everything to talk to me before he knew we were dating. You were not even thinking about putting that asshole behind bars, and now, he’s definitely not going to, he’ll walk free. And you know what, this won’t be on you, it’ll be on me.” Casey tried to hold back her tears as she stared at y/n the whole time, feeling both anger and frustration taking over her. “One way or another, there was the chance of me losing my license. If Elizabeth would’ve wanted to, I would’ve been called before the bar. Am I supposed to thank you?” She squinted her eyes.

“I did this for you, Casey. Even if it meant you hating me, I did this, so you didn’t lose your license and your job, because I know how much you love this job.”

“You’re right. I do love it more than I love you. I’d do anything for this job.” Casey snapped before she walked out of the room.

Y/n felt her body starting to shake as Casey’s words played over and over again in her mind. She knew Casey would be mad at her, but saying this to her? And the painful thing was that she actually believed that Casey meant it. Y/n sobbed as she sat on the edge of the bed, trying to hold back her tears but it was too late for that. Was Casey gonna leave her after this? What if Casey was right and she did this because she was clouded with jealousy? But no. All she wanted to do was prevent Casey from getting into a bigger problem. She wanted Casey to keep her job and her license, she knew it would be way worse if this was used again Casey in court, not only would Donna bring it up to the jury, but Petrovsky would make things worse, and then Elizabeth would’ve done something more than just suspending her. She did it for Casey. She was only looking out for her, and now Casey was mad. And y/n didn’t know if there would be a chance to fix this.

********************

Y/n had decided to stay at the precinct with the rest of the squad waiting to hear from the ADA how the trial was going. Y/n knew anyway what was going to happen already, and she felt guilty, not letting her squad know what had happened with Casey, what she had done, they were definitely going to blame her. And they had every right, Casey had a right to be mad too. She had not gone back to their apartment at night, getting a call from Elliot saying that Casey had stayed with him, and that they could talk back in the precinct, but she really didn’t want to talk about it. To anyone. Cragen finally came back with the news that the jury was back, and the bastard had walked free, there was nothing they could do, the ADA would try to do it again, but y/n knew that even if they did, there was not much of a chance for them to win. Everything was definitely going wrong, and this had been her fault. And she couldn’t even go to Casey because she was not talking to her, so she had to keep it all to herself. She decided to go lay down for a bit, tears rolling down her tears as soon as her head hit the pillow, quietly sobbing. She didn’t notice the door had opened and Olivia had walked in, she had noticed y/n’s attitude since they arrived early in the morning. She walked slowly to y/n and sat on the edge of the bed, her hand going to y/n’s back.

“Y/n…” Olivia whispered softly.

“I want to be alone.” Y/n cried out, drying her tears.

“Please. Talk to me.” Olivia said softly.

Y/n sat down on the bed, bringing her knees to her chest, and wrapping her arms, wanting to bury her face on them but looked up at Olivia. “I fucked up, Liv.”

Olivia tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“They took Casey off the case because of me.” Y/n sobbed. “I went to Donnelly. Casey was going to keep the file, she was not going to let the defense have it. And I couldn’t let her do that.” She shook her head as she cried. “I couldn’t let her lose her job and her license. I know Donna and Petrovsky. She’s suspended for a month.”

Olivia sighed. “And she’s mad at you.”

“She said she loved the job more than she loved m-me.” Y/n sobbed as she let her head fall to her knees.

Olivia moved to sit beside y/n and wrapped her arms around y/n. “Y/n, sweetheart, you know that’s not true. I know she didn’t mean that.”

“After all these years…I never expected Casey to get mad at me. We both said we would do anything for each other, and now she’s mad at me for this. I only tried to protect her. I knew that her losing the job would hurt too much. I couldn’t bear the thought of her blaming herself for this.” Y/n huffed a chuckle. “And we lost the case. It was my fault.”

“There was no other way of doing this, y/n. And Casey knows it. She was blinded because she didn’t know what to do.” Olivia shrugged. “She also prevented us from doing something stupid. Because she knew we would try anything.”

“She thought I was jealous of Lake. And…she wasn’t entirely wrong. But I didn’t do any of this for him. I did this for her.” Y/n whispered softly as she looked at Olivia. “I’m gonna lose her, Liv.”

Olivia shook her head. “She knows this, y/n. She’s angry. She couldn’t do more, and we both know that’s hard for her. She would’ve done this and so much more for you, and we all know it.”

“I don’t think I’d have let her do this for me.”

Olivia smiled as she tilted her head. “We both know nothing would’ve stopped Casey.”

Y/n chuckled as she nodded. “Yeah.” She sniffled. “But now, I don’t think she wants to see me.”

“It’ll pass. Give it time.” Olivia smiled.

Elliot opened the door and stopped on his tracks for a moment, gaining the attention of both women. “Sorry, but uh…something happened.”

Y/n looked at Olivia for a moment and sighed heavily as they both stood up, following Elliot. Y/n wiped away her tears and tried to push back the pain she felt, she had shown weakness to Olivia, but she couldn’t show it to the others. Elliot didn’t say a word during the whole ride, but y/n knew something bad had happened with the way he was desperate to get to the place. And once there, she noticed the place full of cops and ambulances, feeling her heart sinking as they exited the car and walked to the scene, finding Crane’s body on the floor. She looked to her side and found cops cuffing Lake, he was avoiding their stares, a mix of anger and pride in his face. Y/n then looked to her other side to find Casey standing beside Fin, her heart sinking once again at the look on her face. They all watched how Lake was taken to the police car and that’s when he stared at them. Y/n understood why he did it, but she still wished he would’ve gone to them for help. They all stood there for a moment, not sure what they were supposed to do or if they were supposed to do anything at all. Y/n’s eyes landed on Casey again, noticing how Elliot was now dragging Casey out of the scene and telling her something, and for a slight moment, their eyes met, and y/n wanted nothing more than to run to her and hold her, but she knew she couldn’t. She turned back to look at Olivia, both staring at each other for  moment and then staring back at the scene.

********************

Y/n sighed as she closed the door behind her and dropped her keys on the small table beside the door, turning to lock the door and rested her head against it for a moment. She took a deep breath and made her way to her bedroom, debating if she was going to take a shower or she was just going to drop in bed and try to sleep. But as she looked up at the bedroom, she noticed the lights were on, frowning slightly as she walked inside, just to feel like she had deja vu as she saw Casey sitting at the edge of their bed. For a moment her eyes inspected the room, her heart beating fast as her eyes tried to find a suitcase and bags, but the room looked the same as she left it in the morning. Her eyes then went back to Casey’s who was already looking at her, she could see that her eyes were red and puffy just like the last time they had been in the same situation.

“Hi.” Casey whispered softly.

“Hey.” Y/n whispered back, not sure if she was supposed to walk to the bed or just stand where she was. “I uh…I didn’t expect you to be here.”

Casey nodded. “I know.” She nibbled on her lip as she looked down at her hands. “But I needed to talk to you.”

Y/n nodded softly. “Should I start or…”

“I’m sorry.” Casey sobbed, looking up at y/n, her eyes teary once again. “I…I didn’t mean to go off on you like that. I know why you did this, I know that you were only trying to protect me. And I was so mean to you.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have said a thing.”

“Casey…”

“I don’t know what I was thinking. I know what I was doing was wrong and I was still willing to do it. I had stressful cases, and I just didn’t want another bastard to walk free. But none of this was your fault and I took it out on you, when you just…you were trying to help, and I-“ Casey shook her head.

“I went behind your back, Casey.” Y/n said softly, feeling her own tears form in her eyes. “I should’ve stayed so we could’ve talked about it, and I could’ve helped you. But I was so blinded by anger, I didn’t know what else to do, and my best option was to go to Donnelly.” She shook her head as she took a shaky breath. “We could’ve gone together. I could’ve talked you through it, but I left.”

“You did what you thought was right. You saved me from getting censured and probably losing my license.”

“And I got you suspended for a month without pay. Donnelly must have gone off on you, and I just left you go through it alone.” Y/n sobbed as she looked down at her hands. “And I understand if you want this to end.”

Casey frowned. “What?”

“You said it. You…you love the job more than me. I went behind your back, I could’ve given you the same ending for going to Donnelly and I-“ she sobbed. “Casey, I’m sorry.” She brought her hands to her face as she sobbed.

Casey stood up and went to y/n, wrapping her arms around y/n, pulling her to the bed so they could sit down. Y/n wrapped her arms around Casey’s middle and buried her face on her neck, while Casey placed one of her hands on y/n’s head and kissed her head softly. “Baby, I am not leaving you. What I said…I didn’t mean it. I didn’t think about it. I was angry, I was stressed. And that’s not an excuse, but I truly didn’t mean it.”

“How could you not? I tried to help you and I could’ve done things worse anyway.” Y/n cried out.

Casey moved back enough to look down at y/n, placing her hand on y/n’s cheek to make her look up at her. “Y/n…the talk I had with Elizabeth would’ve been ten time worse if you wouldn’t have gone to her. Yes, she was upset at me…but I’m only suspended for a month. I could’ve been censured. And I didn’t because you stopped me from doing a big mistake.”

Y/n took a deep shaky breath as she looked at Casey. “You mean it?”           

“I do, my love. I shouldn’t have said that. Any of that. You were willing to help me and do everything to be here for me, and I pushed you away.” Casey smiled sadly. “I would’ve made a big mistake. But my biggest mistake was to push you away. I cannot lose you, y/n.” More tears rolled down her cheeks as she rested her forehead against y/n’s.

“I cannot lose you either, Casey. I can’t.” Y/n’s hand went to Casey’s cheek and smiled sadly. “We both let our anger take the best of us.” She huffed a chuckle.

“We did.” Casey grinned. “Let’s not let this happen again.”

Y/n nodded. “Ever.”

“Plus, we’re not allowed to breakup, remember?” Casey smirked. “You’re pretty much stuck with me. And now you’re stuck with me for a whole month.”

Y/n grinned as she chuckled. “I’ll ask for a month off so I deal with you.” She smirked. “If we’re mad…we take our time, but we don’t go to sleep mad. We talk about it.”

Casey nodded as she smiled. “Sounds like a deal to me. And you know I don’t normally take deals.”

“I’m the exception.” Y/n smiled.

“You are.” Casey smiled as she leaned down and kissed her lips softly, finally feeling some sort of relief as she had her lover back in her arms.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Could you do—Garten of Banban Characters reacting to WereGator!Reader going through the games events to find their nieces? (Same principle as a Werewolf, just with them being able to turn into an alligator. They can semi-shift sharper claws or more menacing eyes.)

Monsters are secretly intermingled with normal society. They just tend to stay out of sight or hide their otherness to blend in. Cause humans are crazy population wise to them, seriously eight billion?! No lone species wants to get that many humans ticked off/scared of them. Reader was really wary of letting their sister-in-law leave her daughters at the daycare. Sure, it catered to monster kids but something was always a bit off… Weregators have strong nurturing instincts when it comes to their or any family member’s kids. The worry was just brushed away as that being in overdrive…

Reader goes through the various puzzles a bit aggressively (never destroying anything outright but Banban can see them barely controlling their strength/shifts).

Oh I love this!! I'll just be doing 4 characters

.......

Banban

You had your suspicions about letting your nieces get dropped off at the kindergarten during "Bring-A-Friend Day".

Your sister-in-law didn't see the problem. Sure, the place was apparently creating living, breathing mascots and likely violating all moral/ethical codes in doing so...but she thought it was fine.

Lab-bred monsters interacting with the natural monsterkind living quietly in the outside world? Surely nothing could go wrong...

Until it did and you found yourself going to this place to find your two nieces.

They weren't even your own children, though as a weregator your nurturing instincts went into overdrive the moment you heard of their disappearance.

And it's for that reason you'd be....quite aggressive and direct in how you solved the strange puzzles throughout the facility.

Nothing pissed you off more than the drone--as sometimes it refused to cooperate.

You came close to smashing the controller numerous times.

You meet Banban after he tries knocking you out, but he's stunned when you barely flinch and tackle him, eyes turning reptilian, alligator claws growing on your hands, and patches of your skin turning to scales.

And you growl angrily, threatening his very existence.

But since he shares Untham's fascination with monsterkind, he just stares at you like you're some spectacle, totally fearless.

"My, what big claws you have....sorry, bad joke-"

"Shut it, "Banban"." You snarl. "Where are my nieces?! I swear if you did anything to them-"

"I've done nothing to them. In fact, I feel terrible about what's been going on here. And that's why I want to help you find them."

"You do..?" You blink. "Then why did you attack me?"

"It's hard to explain. Sometimes I lose control over myself...I truly am sorry about that. Now could you let me go? I think doing that will benefit both of us."

"...how?"

"I promise I'll help you the whole way. Believe me, I've tried helping others before you, but...they were humans. Held back by fear and lack of physical endurance. You, however, stand a chance. But you'll need some guidance. This place is huge, after all."

You were surprised by his offer, albeit cautious of his intentions.

In the end, you let him go as killing him wasn't gonna bring you anywhere closer to your nieces.

He oversees your journey and helps where he can, although he cringes when you damn near shatter the glass panels when solving certain puzzles or fully shift into your gator form when you're trying to fight of Nabnab....

Or when Banban turns into his "hellish" form and tries attacking you, with you leaving some pretty deep scratches on his skin.

Once he snaps out of it, he's like "omg you're just like me fr, we both have trouble taming the beasts within ourselves-"

You take full offense to that and remind him that you're both nothing alike.

Opila Bird Up

She basically fucked around and found out when she first confronted you.

Her screeches of intimidation turned to shrieks of fear the second you shifted into your gator form, causing her to stumble and fall into the abyss where the ball pit once was.

So for the most part..she left you alone after that.

Even Banban was impressed.

When you put her babies back into their nest, she's at first terrified that you were going to eat them....yet you had no intentions of doing so as you calmly greet her before leaving.

Even though she's been aggressive and instigated your transformation in the first place, you saw her younglings as you would your own.

You'd never think to harm them even though everything here so far has tried to harm you.

And soon a shaky alliance was formed, but only because you two shared the common instinct to protect your kin.

The turning point was when you saved Tarta and Opila from being crushed by Jumbo Josh--you literally held up his fist in your gator form so the couple could flee the fight.

Even he was shocked

That's when Opila knew you were someone who could be trusted to the fullest.

Ya'll know how some species of wading birds have gators as their "bodyguards"?

This is where you and her family are at right now. You'll fight tooth and nail to defend them.

She trusts you with her chicks and knows they're in good hands (or claws, rather).

Your end goal was still finding your nieces, but you'll save whatever children you could along the way. Human or monster or both.

Banbaleena

You weren't inclined to sit in some uncomfortable plastic chair and get schooled by this "teacher".

First she saved you from Opila Bird and now she's basically holding you hostage, confiscating your drone.

At this point you're over it. You're wasting precious time here when your nieces could be in serious trouble.

When Banbaleena threatened to tear you into pieces the next time you're "late", you snap right back at her with "how about I tear you into pieces instead?"

As you say this, you show your claws, scales, and reptilian eyes so she knew exactly what she was dealing with.

Suddenly her strict demeanor goes away and she puts you at the "mean kids" table right away.

You suspected her donor feared monsterkind, a trait that was transferred directly to her, as she keeps stuttering when giving the next lesson and deciding you're correct even if you pressed the "wrong" answer.

She can't even look you in the eye and shakily asks you to be gentle with the tape recorders.

Yet she still calls you a "bad student" for leaving and attempts to give chase, but it doesn't last long and she gives up rather quickly.

She hasn't dealt with anyone who stood up to her and lived to tell the tale.

Especially a weregator.

Bittergiggle

He's not intimidated by you in the slightest.

You could partially-shift or even fully shift into your weregator form and this jester will find ways to make jokes out of it.

Besides stopping you from interfering with his plans to make the queen laugh, his goal is to make you laugh, too.

He knows killing you by himself is no longer feasible so he's gonna be an annoying mf who stalls you with bad jokes.

"What do you call an alligator examining a crime scene? An investi-gator!!"

"What's the difference between a crocodile and an alligator? You'll see one in a while, and you'll see the other later!"

When you don't laugh, it just irritates him a lot and he storms away.

He sets Kittysaurus upon you and is shocked when you manage to subdue her with ease.

Not by letting her ram into the walls over and over, but by throwing her into those walls/buttons yourself.

Never did you think you'd wind up in this situation when all you wanted was answers as to where your nieces went....

But you'll be damned if you let some clown and dino-cat hybrid stop you from finding them.

It's actually quite funny when you come back to the kingdom's throne room and see Bittergiggle throwing an absolute FIT because you once again stopped him from telling his joke to the queen.

And I mean stomping, waving his arms, hitting the floor, etc. Just a full-blown tantrum.

"Wow, even my nieces are more mature than you smh"

[vigilant-insomniac]

Missing Context (Danny Phantom Fic)

One shot, 2300 words

There is a supernatural reason why no one recognizes Danny as Phantom. A color swap alone would not be enough for sure. Good thing Mr Lancer is not that easily fooled

Featuring: some Danny & Lancer, vague descriptions of injuries, identity reveal

---- William Lancer's spine popped satisfyingly in all sorts of places when he stretched in his chair, where he spent the last few hours grading student essays.

Like he did most Saturday evenings. 

It wasn't the best part of the job, he much preferred teaching and direct guidance, but it still was enjoyable at times. 

Some students rushed their work, sure, but there were always some essays in the mix that would show him a fresh perspective that he himself even hadn't considered before. Sometimes it was also just interesting to see his student's personalities bleed into their work. By that, he didn't mean the persona they each used in front of their peers, but something more genuine, something more real. 

That's why he didn't dislike this kind of desk work. As a teacher there was so much responsibility in recognizing red flags and intervening before things escalated. 

Be it difficult home lives, mental health issues, social issues…. His students might rarely talk to him but he heard them in their writing. 

Usually it was the gaps between their personalities and their personas that drew Lancer's attention. 

Like Mr Baxter's… the boy was high up in the social hierarchy, but used the resulting power to push people around. In his writing, however, he usually showed a lot of understanding for the disadvantaged protagonists, who have to fight their lot in life. 

It only took a parent-teacher night for Lancer to connect the dots and has since been working on a way to help with Mr Baxter's troubled home life. 

At last the boy had confided in him somewhat. So hopefully they would soon make progress and arrange for a relative to take in the boy while his father took therapy and went to AA meetings. 

Things were still in the draft phase, but Lancer was confident that by the end of the school year, Mr Baxter would be able to see a safer environment for himself. 

But that was one of the more straightforward cases, even if it was sensitive and worrying. 

This year he had another troubled child in his class, and the problem was… Lancer knew something was wrong. But for Orwell's sake, he couldn't figure out what it was. 

Danny Fenton was a complex puzzle. The signs pointed in all sorts of directions. 

Some said "parental abuse" but then they said the kid was obviously well loved… even when the parents showed a concerning mix of neglect thanks to their workaholism and helicopter vigilance. 

He was jumpy some days and lethargic the next, he would sleep in class or not show up at all. 

His work ethic was all over the place as well. He obviously cared about his grades and his school work. Lancer could tell whenever he did turn something in. 

Young Fenton also cared a lot about justice in his essays. He often pointed out the flaws and pressures society put on the characters of their fictional worlds. It somewhat extended to reality as well and Danny would call out his bullies on their behavior, almost self-sacrificially when it came to protecting his peers, but then, paradoxically he would run at the slightest sign of Amity Park typical troublesome ghosts as if even his friends' safety meant nothing to him.

Even if not by his parents, abuse was still high on the list of his theories of what made Danny so offset. Maybe more than what he’d get from bullies too, since those somehow didn't actually faze Fenton, as if he was used to much worse… and wasn't that a scary thought. 

A small kid like Danny, in a small town like Amity Park couldn't be in a gang. This sounded like denial even to his own ears, since that might actually explain some things, but he also just knew that it wasn't that. 

There were several signs missing for that scenario, and overall Daniel's personality and sense of justice wouldn't allow it. 

Much more likely would be that the kid was actively looking for fights by butting into bad people's business. Maybe vigilantism of sorts. 

But again, Amity Park just wasn't that big of a town to make this theory make sense. 

William put down the pen and rubbed his face exhaustedly. 

He had already visited the Fenton home, had spoken with Jasmine and even attempted to get something out of Danny directly. But nothing had led anywhere so far. 

And tonight wouldn't get him anywhere else either. 

With a sigh he decided to take a break and go for a walk. It was almost dark and the air should be refreshingly crisp. 

After another spine popping stretch he got up and made a detour to the kitchen. He might as well take out the trash. 

The building was quiet when he left his apartment. Only some sounds of TVs or Radios filtered through the closed doors of his fellow tenants. 

The air outside was fresh bordering on cold and if he hadn't brought the trash with him he might have reconsidered stepping out of his home. 

So he hunched his shoulders a bit as he made his way around the building, bracing against some breeze that cut through his shirt and made him shiver. 

The bag was thrown away quickly and he was already turning around when he heard something. 

A groan. Of pain. Lancer turned back towards the alley and squinted into the shadows while reaching for his phone in case he was about to be mugged or attacked by a ghost.

Once he had it ready to call the emergency line, he held his breath and listened. 

Had he imagined it? He wasn't sure. The dark always spurred on his paranoia.

But after a moment he heard another muffled gasp. Something was there. 

"Hello? Do you need help?" he called carefully into the dark as his heart picked up pace. 

Then he noticed: No… not dark. 

Something was illuminating the alley. He hadn't realized at first, but now that his eyes were adjusting he could make out a faint green glow coming from next to a dumpster further back. 

"If you're okay, say so, otherwise I will come over now, please stay calm, I just want to help" Lancer announced with false confidence. His heart was beating a mile a minute in anticipation and sweat was starting to form at the back of his neck. 

Someone who was hurt or scared might lash out and he was not sure how to deal with that. William Lancer wasn't a fighter after all, so he relied on language to project his intentions and hoped for the best. 

There wasn't a reply other than some irregular breathing and more sounds of someone in pain. 

He was almost there when the mystery person ( because this was too loud for a rat, and what else would take breaths like that, if not a person?) did gasp something out that Lancer couldn't quite catch but sounded a lot like "Stay away". But even though Lancer couldn't quite understand it, his heart skipped. The voice sounded young. And scared. 

Dread filled him and Lancer stopped his stalling. He took the last few steps and when he reached the dumpster and peered in the gap beside it, it gave away to a short figure, bracing itself against the side of the container and clutching their side. Not a Person. Not a human. Yet someone very familiar was huddled in the gap. 

Toxic green eyes stared up at him with hostility and apprehension. 

"I said, stay. Away." Phantom snarled with bared teeth. 

His whole posture, no, the whole aura around Phantom, radiated danger. 

Lancer's phone clattered on the stone floor of the alley as he staggered a few steps back. 

Almost every instinct told him to run. To get out of here while he still could, that the thing in front of him could rip him apart. That he was facing a cornered animal. 

Almost all of his instincts were sure he was in danger. Almost. 

Even with all the alarm bells, Lancer forced himself to take a stuttering breath. He never had been the wisest person. 

The voice sounded young. Even the second time around when there was venom and Spite and bared teeth gnashed and snarled and the oppressive threat of- no. That wasn’t what he heard when he heard the painful sounding gasps earler…  he shook his head. 

Something was wrong here. 

Now it was instinct against instinct. Lancer could feel them clash painfully as if it was tearing him apart. There was the desire to flee, to run, to get back to safety, to run from the beast in front of him that could disembowel him with one claw… 

And then there was his instinct as a teacher that right now screamed against his fear that there was a child right in front of him and the child needed help. 

He tried to look at Phantom again. Really look at him. Something he had never gotten a chance to before. Phantom right now. Was……… He couldn’t see. He couldn’t properly pin down what he was looking at. His brain screeched “Monster”, but it was more like his imagination overlaid that image. 

Against the pull of his mind, he slowly crouched down to eye level with the ghost, who still stared at him with his teeth bared and coiled to strike growling and hissing at him to back off… 

Lancer squinted at the figure again and tried to really look. It was as if there was a filter. As if something prevented him from really seeing the creature in front of him- 

Like an optical illusion or an after image all conjured up by his fears. 

"I said. Get away." Phantom…. snarled?… no. It wasn't a threat, it sounded more like you'd expected someone in pain to sound. Something more like a plea to be left alone. Not aggression, but desperation. 

Lancer blinked a few times against the weird haze of confusion. Phantom wasn't coiled to strike either, he was fighting to even stay crouching. Green oozed out from under his hand he had pressed to his side. His face was tense with clenched teeth against pain. 

"You're hurt." he observed and something flitted over Phantom's face. 

"you're hurt and you're…. you look…" William trailed off. What did Phantom look like. Like a Child? Small?... Familiar?

Phantom's expression did something complicated between pain, horror and fear. Phantom's expression, there was something about… his face…  his features. Lancer knew that face. He saw it every day he felt like. The colors felt wrong but the more he squinted against the fog, the more his mind screamed at him that this child was someone he knew and cared for. He took the figure in once more and furrowed his brows, he knew this person, why couldn't he place them-

Out of nowhere a sharp pain flashed through Lancer's head and for a moment he only saw white, he thought Phantom had done something. He clutched his head as if he had to hold it together. 

Then, as sudden as it had come it disappeared. 

When Lancer looked up again, with sweat on his forehead and breath coming in short bursts almost matching with the ghosts labored wheezes, whatever had been distorting his perception was gone. His vision was clear as day. No haze, no fog, no distortion.  

He couldn't marvel at the phenomenon though, because now that he wasn't seeing through a filter anymore, he was no longer staring at Phantom.

The kid was the same. But there was no mistaking it. 

He was without much doubt looking at his student. 

Lancer had been close to a panic attack for the last few minutes now. But this was giving him whiplash. He recoiled and landed gracelessly on his butt when the realization hit him like a stack of books. 

So this is what he had been missing? The big centerpiece of the puzzle? The one thing that made all his observations finally point into the same direction? 

In front of him was his troubled student. 

Danny Fenton. Who had white hair, green eyes, glowing skin… and was currently bleeding out behind a dumpster in an alley.

And really, there was no mistaking him. Kids dyed their hair all the time. Some of the goths even used colored contacts on a daily basis. It was impossible to look at the kid in front of him and not recognize Danny Fenton.

"Hot cat on a tin roof," he commented.

Fenton picked that moment to gasp in pain and to curl in on himself further. Barely managing to look back up at his teacher, but what Lancer saw was fear. Fear of William. 

The teacher carefully reached out to his student and helped steady him by his shoulder.  He felt like ice. 

"You're- Danny, you're hurt! I have so many questions right now, but first, how do I help? Can you stand? Should I call your parents? An ambulance?" he tried to sound steady, this was no time to panic, even though his student was blee- no. He had to focus on the now. 

"No hospitals, it's not safe." Fenton mumbled. A bit more urgently the amended "parents don't know, you can't tell them… please." 

Lancer swallowed hard, this was bad.

And immediately it got worse. 

"s'ry i feel- kinda dizzy" with only that much as a warning Danny went slack under Lancer's grip who barely managed to catch the teen as he sagged against his teacher. 

Then to his surprise, rings of light flashed to life and the icy body in his arms was replaced by a warm and much more familiar version of his student. 

Reading Danny’s essays through this new lens was going to be an interesting endeavor from now on, William thought through stress induced amusement.

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

hiya :D

i love ur headcannons they always make me laugh reading them!

do u think u could do some on what subjects u think the mercs would teach if they were teachers?

What Subjects Would The TF2 Mercs Teach?

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Awe, thank you, Anon, that's so sweet 💖 I can definitely write this, it seems like a lot of fun! UH going to just assume that these guys are teaching at a college, so they get specialized fields to teach!

This is probably going to be very similar to "What Jobs Would The TF2 Mercs Have If They Weren't Mercenaries" post, so I'll probably keep this shorter so I don't end up repeating myself, uh I also added how the classes would like them as a teacher!

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Demo would teach chemistry, trying very hard not to dabble with anything too illegal in his classroom. He loves the way science almost works like magic when it comes to chemistry. Loves the bearly visible bridge between a perfect result and utter chaos. His students are both deeply terrified and greatly inspired by Demo. He's a genius when it comes to science, and it shows through the times he's deeply concentrated while teaching. May or may not have "accidentally" shown the class how to make explosives. Oops.

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Engie is a fan of biomedical engineering regardless of if it's his job or just something he'd be asked to teach to people who were curious about it. He has such a passion for the mix of two things he loves, helping people and making things. He will go on for hours, showing examples of how important biomedical engineering is, how impactful even one person in the field can be. His students would love the passion he speaks on the subject with and how willing he is to make sure everyone in his class understands the material.

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Heavy would teach Russian literature after being inspired by his teachers. The passion they showed in their teachings and how willing they were to prioritize helping students evoked feelings in him that he never known. He does everything for his students, making sure that everyone is supported. He tries his hardest to give his all to make these students feel the same passion he has for it. His students love him, and his class is one of the most popular, has made large impacts on every student that's came into his class.

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Medic teaches, shock of all shocks, medical classes! I know, I know, but what can I say? He lives for the medical field. Keeps his class ethical enough, stating multiple times that as doctors, their job is to heal and save lives. However, some of his students who share the same, uh, curious shine in their eyes are more than welcome to attend a class that dips into the unethical side of medical practices. He's a good teacher, and his students are fond of him for his unsettling aura and passion.

(Can you tell I know jack all about medicine and how it's taught lmao)

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Scout is a teacher in sports journalism, and his class both loves and loathes him as a teacher. He loves sports, so writing about them is super easy! He has a lot of fun teaching other people the best way to describe things and how to put their feelings on the page, but he's also horrendous at spelling and writing in general. His class understands his struggles but gets rather annoyed when Scout pulls up an article he wrote and can't understand any of it. He's trying his best, and he makes a half decent teacher.

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Sniper is a photography teacher, and honestly? His class isn't for everyone. In Snipers mind through every picture he takes he's expressing a deep feeling or trying to invoke an emotion in the viewer, which he succeeds in most of the time, but it's hard for other people to replicate that when you, don't. Talk. To. Them. Some people just pick up photography and understand exactly how to do what Sniper expects without guidance, others can't understand at all. Basically, not a teacher, teacher.

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Spy is teaching political science, hoping he can somehow subtly influence a few students into using the knowledge he provided to find a profession in espionage. He's definitely a teacher who would make you nervous, kind of a mean teacher, but he never let's a student fall behind. Subtly offering help or an extension to make sure his students succeed. Claiming he doesn't do it out of love for his students, just so he isn't known for having any failures in his class.

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Soldier is the worlds best american history teacher, hands down. You want to talk about passion? He loves American history and will go on the longest rants and makes all of them entertaining. His class is never dull or boring. He's another prime example of a teacher who will do anything for his students and make sure they understand everything going on. No man left behind and all that. His students love him :)

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Pyro is a teacher of fire science (I didn't even know that was a thing, but apparently it is, who knew?) Pyro, being obsessed with lighting fires, knows quite a bit about all types of fire is more than happy to share their knowledge about flames. While their students can barely understand them, they don't call Pyro out on it as their passion for the subject transcends words. Pyro's class is less of a class than a period of entertainment, but somehow everyone comes away from the class knowing everything they needed, and even somethings they didn't.

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Short and sweet little headcanons, how fun! Sorry if it's actually too short! Thank you again for the ask anon, super fun to write :)

I'm just now realizing that there's a chance that this won't make sense because I'm a little tired while writing this, so I hope it turned out well. Sorry if it didn't, Anon 😭

[lavender-romancer]

Poison   

Part One  Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff Reader  Cho Chang x Hufflepuff Reader (unrequited) CW: angst 

You and Draco had been together for around a year but as you both approached 7th year you could no longer see him the same way as before  

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

Draco was suffering in his own head. Unable to unload anything inside it on anyone else, unable to ask guidance from the one person he trusted the most. The pressures from his father had turned him into someone who he wasn't, sure when he was younger he would tease or push people around but he wasn't evil. The mere fact he was conflicted about his past decisions proved he wasn't who his father wanted him to be. Being with you had made him into a better person, a more forgiving person who wasn't easily led by petty arguments. But now…you hardly talked to one another. 

"He's going to end it with me, I'm sure of it." You vented to Cho in potions with a miserable look on your face. 

"You don't deserve to be ignored or at the least disregarded, I know it was good before but sometimes things happen for a reason, Y/n." Cho reasoned and you had to agree with her, you deserved a better partner.

"Can't imagine myself dating again, I mean I don't know if hat I expected from a teenage relationship but it was more than this." You buried your head in your jumper and Cho giggled. 

"You're quite dramatic when you're lovesick aren't you?" She teased and you rolled your eyes.

"I've just got to stay strong I think, not show him that it's getting to me otherwise he wins." You took a deep breath and sat up straight. 

"Exactly! You're better than that." Cho encouraged you and you got back into your experiment. 

Leaving the class you were chatting to Cho as you saw Draco in his all black suit walking the other direction. He saw you and stopped dead in his tracks. 

"Hey Y/n," Draco said with a small smile. 

"You okay?" Cho asked and you nodded, "I'll see you later then?" She gave you a comforting hug before walking off. 

"What do you want or need, Draco?" You asked with a huff.

"What's wrong? You've been off with me all of this term." He asked, pulling you into an empty classroom.

"Me? Are you seriously asking me what's wrong with me?" You scoffed and sat down on one of the desks. 

"You've been behaving all moody for a while and I have no idea why." Draco looked like he rolled his eyes and you could have laughed at how pathetic it was. 

"Maybe it's because you don't speak to me anymore? Maybe it's because you don't want me anymore? Or maybe, just maybe, I've realised you're not the center of my life anymore and it's not that bad." You hissed back at him with a look in your eyes he'd never seen before. 

"Look I know I've been distant but it's not because of anything you've-" 

"Oh I know, I know it isn't my fault because I haven't done anything wrong. But if you don't want me grow some fucking balls and tell me, yeah?" You walked past Draco and out of the classroom. 

Draco didn't know where to go from here, he just leant against one of the desks and breathed. He felt it was all his body would allow him to do at this point, the way you looked at him was seared into his mind- the true hatred. You could never know the reasons he was so distant but, Draco didn't want to let you go either so he was stuck in a sort of ethical limbo. He couldn't be honest about his connection to the Dark Lord without the possibility of you telling someone. It wasn't worth the risk. 

"I can't believe this is real, it still seems insane that I'm in bed with you." You told Draco as you leant on his bare chest. 

"In what way?" Draco looked puzzled. 

"Because you fucking hated me before, plus…I wasn't your biggest fan either." You laughed and Draco rolled his eyes in his classic way. 

"I don't know if I hated you, I think I teased you because I found you attractive but I was so awful with girls it just came out like that." Draco rubbed his hand up your arm to your hair, playing with it absentmindedly. 

"Well, everyone definitely thought you hated me." You looked up at him with a shit eating grin and he pulled your hair slightly. 

"I can always go back to the teasing if you prefer it?" He asked, "And who's 'everyone' including?" 

"Cho, the Golden trio, Seamus, Susan, Luna-"

"Alright, so a lot of people. God, you have too many friends." Draco smiled and you hit his chest playfully. 

"Just because I have more than two friends doesn't mean I have too many, you're just jealous that you can't make any friends at all." You turned around and leant on your elbows, looking at him as he raised an eyebrow. 

"Is that so?" He asked and you nodded before Draco tackled you to the bed, pinning your arms as you both giggled. 

"I'm sure this will be the best thing for you, eventually." Cho said softly as she held your hand, your eyes were glassy but no tears seemed to form. 

"Maybe, I think it's just that I've existed with him or thinking about him for so long that it feels odd that it might end. It feels wrong to be in this position." You took a deep breath and looked at Cho, trying to smile as she looked at you supportively. 

"You'll get there, I promise you it will get easier day by day you'll realise you don't need him to get through the day. Look how well you're already doing." She gave you the warmest smile and you couldn't help but blush because it made you feel so warm.

"You're right. I need to just…learn to live with it and not dwell. I mean, I have you and I have my other friends so what could really be that bad." You squeezed Cho's hand and sighed. 

"Come on, we've both got quidditch practice." Cho smiled. 

Flying together made you both feel so connected, like you'd always known one another. Even though you didn't play together, some houses would do a general practice every so often where anyone from any team could come along. You were looping around each other, bright smiles on both of your faces as you chased one another and messed around. 

"If you two can stop flirting, we can get down to some actual practice!" Roger Davies yelled from just below you. 

"Flirting? What are you on about?" Cho asked with a pink tinge to her cheeks you couldn't ignore. 

"Oh come on, if you two can't see it you're blind." He called back before flying to the ground. 

"No-no idea what that was about!" Cho stuttered as she also headed towards the ground. You had a puzzled look on your face before flying down to the rest of the group on the ground. 

Draco entered the room of requirement with a little bird. Even though he had so much to accomplish…you were the only thing on his mind. You distracted him from all tasks, not that he didn't welcome distraction from the awful task before him. He'd been trying to repair the vanishing cabinet for about 9 months now and even with the advice from Borgin he hadn't got any closer. There was no way of getting the cabinet to Borgin and Burke's but Draco had no idea if the incantation was even working, every live thing he put in there would come back dead. It wasn't even as if Borgin could apparate into the room of requirement, but Draco didn't have time on his hands. It was why he had been so stressed recently, or really the past 6 months at least and he knew you had felt it. But how could you know? How could you be told what had happened? Draco knew that you wouldn't be on his side of the inevitable war, so what was the point in telling you? 

As he looked around the room packed with relics from the school's past, he couldn't help but remember all the times the two of you had snuck into it. Making out whilst you should've been in potions or fucking in a free period, Draco saw you everywhere in this place and it only made him more eager to get out. He placed the little bird he had seen in the corridor in the cabinet and shut the door. The bird's tweets could be heard as well as the little scratches when it would jump around on the wood, Draco felt guilty about using the bird but he had to try again with something living.

"Harmonia nectere passus," his wand was lifted as he chanted the incantation but there wasn't the familiar whoosh sound, he could still hear the bird "harmonia nectere passus," he repeated and there were no more noises.

After a few moments he repeated the chant again but even though there was a woosh he heard no tweeting. Opening the cabinet the bird lay dead, unmoving and lifeless and Draco couldn't handle it. He stepped backwards after shutting the cabinet and sat down on a rough looking chair before bursting into tears. 

You walked towards the Hufflepuff common room, pausing to groan at the fact you had to tap on all the barrels once again to enter. When you were in first year you got it slightly wrong and got covered in vinegar so you were sure to get it right even if you were in an awful mood. When you walked in you went over to one of the cacti stands and smiled as they danced with their arms moving up and down. The common room was full of plants and due to your love of them you couldn't imagine a place you'd feel more comfortable. 

You dreamed one day of owning a country house with sprawling ivy all over it (even though it ruins the brickwork) and large gardens you could tend to. Your Muggle mother used to always take you to the allotments in the posher part of your town even though you lived on the other side. Falling in love with plants was easy when you felt so calm and fulfilled after being around them, you had never felt so at peace in your life. Being around plants would be so important to you when you eventually left school, living in a city felt almost impossible to you. 

Draco used to love listening to you discuss your favourite flowers, or ways to pot different plants and how fertiliser impacted growth but always made sure to tell him to never use peat fertiliser. He used to laugh because it wasn't as if he was ever going to use any fertiliser anywhere in his life. You felt as if you were yearning for those times, yearning for everything he made you feel. Draco made you feel at home. Being without him for so long was taking a toll on you because you weren't used to it, even an afternoon without one another was surprising. Draco had met your mother for God sake, not that you could meet his parents but either way you were so close with one another- it seemed unimaginable that you could be apart from now on. 

Maybe he was your poisoned tree? Infecting all other facets of your life until he took over your psyche and your life with it. Making you progressively weaker as the poison took control over your existence as you were controlled by his actions. For God sake you couldn't do anything without thinking about him, or what he would've said in that situation. He was everywhere you looked and you didn't have to see his face to know it. Why couldn't he just tell you what was going on? You believed that he loved you, you really did so you didn't think he was cheating but, it was something. Something so big that he didn't feel he could tell you. There were always rumors about the Malfoy family but you never really entertained them as real, what if there was some truth in them? Were they all death eaters? That eventuality was suddenly becoming more and more of a reality. You needed to clear your head so you headed towards the only place you knew you'd be alone- The room of requirement.

next part

[obsidiancreates]

One Undead To Another (Chapter 11)

Gus sleeps for most of the day, and when he wakes up he immediately calls Father Wesley. 

“Gus! What a surprise, how’re you doing?”

“I’m uh… yeah, anyway.”

“Oh. That bad?”

“Father, what do you know about vampires? Specifically how to proof a home against them?”

“Vampires? I’m afraid I’m less versed in vampires than demons, my boy. For one thing, demons are real.”

“Well… how would I keep a demon that acts like a vampire out of my house?”

“Rephrasing it doesn’t change my sphere of knowledge, Gus. However, I would generally advise keeping holy items very near your person. Do you have anything like a rosary necklace?”

“No. I’ll look for one online.”

“Good, good. Now, if you’re truly convinced an unholy creature is out for you, I also advise keeping a bible in every room, and staying far away from any demonic or occult activity or items.”

“Way ahead of you. … Kind of.”

“What else, ahum… I can bless a bottle of water for you over the phone.”

“That works?”

“I don’t see why it shouldn’t.”

“Alright, holy water… now, do you know where to get bedsheets with crosses all over them?”

“Not personally… but I know several of the students here at the university have asked during confession if sleeping on bedsheets with Jesus’s face on them is a sin, so I believe you’ll find what you need online or in specialty shops.”

“Great. Now, let’s talk about the ethics of using bible pages as wallpaper.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“God.” Shawn waits. Nothing.

“Oh my go-” Immediate coughing, ash puffing out as he tries to cover his mouth.

“Okay,” he wheezes. He picks up the receipt, his own handwriting now following Gus’s as he adds to the list. He adds Can’t claim God to it. Good thing he doesn’t believe in God anyway. Should he? Probably not. Is Gus going to keep believing in God after all this? The vampire thing is kind of confirming his existence, but the psychic thing is negating it, so… what’s even the deal there?

“Any chance anyone wants to clear that up for me?”

No vision, voices, or Feelings.

“Great. Well, my throat is just about shot.” More than, actually– he’s pretty sure it’s bleeding from how dry it is, especially now. “Any chance I can receive a little divine guidance on how to not kill people and get some blood at the same time? Blood bank doesn’t count, that’s a cop-out and a cliche.”

“... Come on. Give me something to work with. I’m not– I’m not used to being this… this lost, okay? I…”

Died. Made a bad decision, got into a bad situation, and died. No clever last-minute saves, no stalling until Lassie and Jules got there, no sitting in The Blueberry knowing he would store the incident away as Another Fun Anecdote. 

He died. 

And now he could hurt the people he loves most. And he’s always been reckless, and impulsive, and inconsiderate of consequence, and it’s gotten his loved ones into trouble in the past, but now that trouble is him and it feels…

… It actually feels worryingly normal, just… more present. The little twist, whisper, condemnation in the back of his head whenever something went horribly wrong and everyone else paid for it is stronger now. And that means he should start really listening to it.

But it’s all he’s listening to, apparently. He scoffs. “Fine. I’ll figure it out myself.

He gets on his bike and heads for the Psych office. Sure, he could do his research at home, but he always works better in the office anyway.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Juliet wakes up, the first thing she does is call her partner.

“O’Hara?”

“Carlton, how much do either of us know about vampires?”

“I read Dracula once in highschool.”

“That’s what I was afraid of… we’re going to need to either do our own research, or rely on Gus to direct us how to handle this.”

“Way ahead of you, O’Hara.”

“... How?”

“I called McNab to tell him to look for any preserved journals or personal items in the remains of that mansion. By the way, apparently Spencer told the whole department we’re sick.”

“Oh my god, that’s right, he went down there. Did Buzz say anything? Did Shawn act… okay?”

“He said Spencer kept his motorcycle helmet on the whole time and sounded like someone took a sander to his throat.”

“Buzz said that.”

“Well… I’m paraphrasing.”

“Right. Okay, well, hopefully Buzz finds something for us. But we should make a plan for if he doesn’t.”

“How? The only source of information we can actually consider even moderately reliable is whatever that cult left behind.”

“Well, I’m about ninety percent sure that as soon as Gus vampire-proofs his house, he and Shawn will start doing incredibly stupid and dangerous experiments to test what’s real and what’s not.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“We’ll have to offer to help.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Today of all days,” Chief Vick mutters, sorting through files to make room for the one coming in later. “Henry, I know this isn’t exactly in your job description but–”

“I’ll visit the scene, Karen.”

“Thank you. With your son and both of my best detectives out today, we may as well be looking at a cold case without your help. Now, the house burned down is the same one they all visited in connection with the three murders from earlier this week. Lassiter and O’Hara had dismissed the residents as suspects, but in my opinion this feels like some kind of act of revenge. We’ve got a reported six bodies, all burnt to nothing but ash and bones.”

“Ash and bones, huh?” Henry seems to mull something over in his head, pursing his lips and nodding. “Any witness reports?”

“None, it’s a secluded area. Even the road leading up to the driveway is practically abandoned.”

“Why would anyone live in an area like that?”

“Your son thought it was because the group staying there weren’t planning on sticking around for long.”

“Because of the murders.”

“Precisely. You know, I have to say I didn’t understand Lassiter and O’Hara’s hunches, on this one. I think your son was onto something. I I want you keeping an eye out for signs of other foul play while you’re there, anything that suggests these investors weren’t being honest, about their intentions for visiting.”

“Nothing suspicious slips by me, Karen. You know that.”

“Good. Now get going.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

McNab picks over the remains of the basement, eyes wide as he pulls out another horror-movie style wiggle-bladed dagger. “Detective Lassiter is going to be really upset he’s missing out on this search.”

“DIdn’t even know the guy could get sick,” the crime CSI guy says, snapping a photo of one of the piles of bones. “Or the psychic. Or Detective O’Hara. The other guy, yeah.”

“I know. Shawn getting sick seems impossible. … Should we send them all a get-well card?”

“Yeah, sure, and I’ll let Lassiter know I’ve got a squirrel feeder in my yard.”

“... I’m going to pick one up on the way back to the station.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Henry pulls up to Gus’s apartment complex, walks up to the door, and knocks.

He hears a cough (too immediate, too rough, he can practically hear Gus dramatically doubling over like when he and Shawn were kids playing something that involved them dying), a “One second!” and then footsteps.

Gus answers the door in a hastily thrown on robe (belt is loosely tied, button-up shirt clearly visible underneath) and sleep slippers (the toe cover is bent on the left one, Gus shoved them on in a panic). “Mr. Spencer?” (forced raspiness to the voice, he coughs into his hand like he’s on a soap opera, no visible irritation in his throat when he’s coughing).

“Gus. Yeah, Shawn swung by earlier, said you were all sick, figured I’d check in and make sure this wasn’t some lame-ass stunt to get out of a case he was being blocked on.”

“Oh, uh, no. No, all must’ve caught someone from one of the suspects, maybe.”

“Yeah, Shawn sounded like hell. You uh, sound a little less under weather, though.”

“My immune system is just highly evolved.”

“Mmm-hmm. You know, Shawn’s throat was really the only symptom he had, actually. He had his helmet on the whole time, too.”

“Forgetting to take his bike helmet off doesn’t seem like a symptom to you?”

“Kid, he forgot to put on pants before coming to me for advice last week.”

“Right. Well um–” His rasp is slipping, voice going in and out of its normal sound. “– I’m going to go back to bed now.”

“Sure, sure. Just wanted to double-check. Oh, and uh, before I go.”

“Yes?”

“Where were you and Shawn last night?”

Gus’s face doesn’t know what to do– so he’s thinking about how to react. He settles on confusion after a beat. “Well, I was in bed all night. Sawing logs, counting sheep, catching sweet Z’s, snoring up a storm.”

“And Shawn?”

“Not sure. Probably doing the same, or watching a horror movie.”

“Horror movie.”

“Or, any, movie.”

“... Alright. Well, rest up, we’ve got a big update in your current case. House of a group of suspects burned down last night.”

“What? Oh… no!” 

Henry smirks. Just like he remembers from the school plays. “Bye, Guster.”

He leaves, and hears the door slam shut behind him. His smirk falls off as he goes over the information in his head. It’s all adding up to a concerning picture.

He’s certain was there, at that house, while it burned down. The raspy throat is obviously because he inhaled smoke and ash, the refusal to take off the helmet probably to hide signs of an altercation, and ‘everyone being sick’ just about waves a big old flag saying ‘FOUR PARTY COVER-UP’ in his face. He doubts Shawn would burn a place down on purpose, but the old ‘grease fire in the bathroom distraction’ is a plan Shawn’s thrown out more than once, both in his childhood and adulthood.

And this time, six people ended up dead.

But why would Lassiter and Juliet cover that up for him? Gus, that’s no surprise, Juliet is, but Lassiter is the most perplexing part of this puzzle.

He gets into the black-and-white and turns on the siren so he can get to the scene as fast as possible. His son might’ve accidentally manslaughter six people pulling a dumb stunt to fake psychic with. He’ll be damned if he lets Officer McNab find evidence of that before he does.

He needs to gather enough to confront Shawn with, after all.

[poindexters-labratory]

Could you tell us your thoughts about Evan in your au???

Sure!!

Evan can best be described as the asshole kid brother for the first half of Before the Storm. He is a lot like Michael, being highly argumentative and confrontational during this point in time. Evan is the quiet listener type, doesn't have a lot of friends, and isn't very emotive like his father and brother are.

Him and Michael fight often, but their arguments end quickly. Until 1982, Evan found Michael to be more of an annoyance than anything, and his brother viewed him the same way.

One of my favorite aspects of FNAF lore that I haven't seen a lot of people touch on is that they're located in the United States desert west, which is where I spent some of my childhood. I'll just mention this here because cowboys are Evan's favorite thing.

This AU gives me the opportunity to touch on western US culture and environments. There are Gila monsters, red-tailed hawks, cougars, coyotes, and snakes roaming about the environment. There's desert, mountains, red rocks, winding roads, and broad open sky, it all feels like home to me. Henry is from a ranch-hand family, he was and remains a cowboy. The Afton kids all get a taste for helping out on Henry's family ranch from time to time.

Evan especially likes to work on the ranch. He likes being helpful and especially loves the animals. The kid likes it to the point of spending Wednesdays with Henry to help out with feeding the animals and learning from Henry's patience combined with his hard work ethic.

(Henry is almost a second father to all of William's kids.)

Evan development takes a drastic turn at the age of 11 (1982). William had his horrific springlock accident and during his hours long surgery to get everything off under Henry's guidance, Evan slipped away from Michael, and walked into the OR. He couldn't come anywhere near William without panicking for a few months and animatronics, he never got over.

Over the course of the year, he couldn't sleep through the night and vivid night terrors would wake him up (he's always had them, but these went on for months and months). Michael didn't help much with his constant pranks. His dad tried to help when he could, but was either occupied with work or retraining his body to function.

William didn't break any bones in his accident (thankfully), but it was a lot of nerve and tissue damage. His vocal cords were damaged in the accident, so he didn't sound like himself much, and Evan wasn't a fan. He was also suffering intense nightmares and psychological trauma from the accident.

The only one who could take care of Evan during this time was Michael. Evan didn't have any friends to go to, Henry was always busy as his father was (combined with William's healing physical and mental health), his older brother was the only other viable option. And it sucked ass.

William did another one of his antics in placing copies of Fredbear stuffed animals around Hurricane on Evan's routes to and from different locations to make sure he was okay and because he knew how Michael would be.

Michael had better things to do, 1982-83 being his senior year, with his friends leaving for college, studying because he wanted to leave, be a stupid teenager, and do everything for his last year of high school that wasn't looking after his crybaby kid brother. So, there was payback in making Evan as miserable as possible.

But then it went too far.

Evan Afton Fun Facts!!

His birthday is April 24, 1971

Also, not William's biological son (William and Claire had a mutual agreement to keep their relationship open to make it easier for them, then later got divorced when Claire really wanted to go back home)

The scars on his face, arm, and leg is result of really terrible road burn he got when he was younger. Henry has dogs, and not just dogs, but herding dogs. These dogs are really good with their commands. Evan was holding the leashes for two of the dogs and Henry called them, causing little Evan to be dragged across road. Henry apologized a lot. He still apologizes.

Evan has Tourette's because I said so

His favorite game is "Freak Dad Out", which includes dramatic theatrics both at home and in public (he's only gotten in trouble once and it because he broke one of William's rabbit figurines)

He has a staring problem

Nicknames: Sweets (William-given), Worm (Michael-given), Grizzly (Lizzie-given)

Favorite animatronic: he's never liked them enough to have one

[insanethankstoradio]

To play a part: Alastor's raison d'etre

Alastor's personality, role, and purpose

“It's the purest kind, my dear: Reality! True passion! After all, the world is a stage and the stage is a world of entertainment.”

Alastor has been presented to us as an omniscient force: somehow possessing an awareness that makes us doubt ours, a stubbornness that shadows others, all while holding something to unveil. Alastor’s testament in the writer’s community shines through the controversy around his character, whether he has an altruistic nature while forbidding it, or is merely choosing to play a part in the circus Hell is, we can't say. It is because of this that I wanted to do an analysis of Alastor and look behind the veil he challenges others to look past. On one hand, Alastor is a shadow. But if he's a shadow, who owns it? One can only become conscious of the shadow in personality by recognizing reality.

On the other hand, if the world is sheer entertainment, who will lead, who will act, and who will watch? 

note: first analysis & post! hope it’s written well, considering english isn’t my native tongue.

note 2: i'll first list things i find interesting about his personality, how much of a mentor he rly is, and in the end i'll determine if he's the director, actor, or spectator. and of course his purpose of life, not for the show.

Alastor has a pathological need to exert his power. It's not the biggest secret.

The need for control is fundamental in human experience and a drive of human nature. It is an ersatz emotion, in a way. It's a self-imposed need, not quite something to feel.

For someone like Alastor who abhors primal instincts, he’s driven by them. His instincts rule his world: he needs to have power, to rule in tyranny, to hunt, and to feel the thrill. To represent Alastor as a Jungian Shadow or as a person with a conflicting Ego isn't too far-fetched. He is all that Charlie refuses to accept of Hell, and his own shadow betrays his face. If an inevitable force is neglected for too long, it'll fester and grow until depravity is wished for instead of what it represents. It is his id and superego that is unbalanced. His unconscious desires and his moral and social standing. To overlap is possible, and we can certainly see a fair share of unhinged and yet forcibly restrained moments of him with Charlie. He is not good at controlling himself, he's a feral animal waiting just the right moment to pounce on his prey.

Someone who seeks to exert their control will look for someone in need of guidance. As a mentor figure, Alastor is complicated. With a regime to follow, it is he who festers on the darkness of Charlotte Morningstar and uses her need to know she matters to control her power, but it is also he who guides her to greatness and the like. Soo...

There are many causes as to why obsession with control and power arises. Trauma, insecurity, misguided righteousness. Positively, these kinds of people want to take charge and make an impact, seeking positions of leadership and pursuing others at their best. At their worst, they assert their power by controlling others to feel sure of themselves over how powerless they are otherwise. But what if this need for control is (in most of situations) for attention because they need it to thrive and not uniquely for leadership because they’re insecure of their environment? it can be both, but one more than the other. Alastor is a showman, contradicting himself in his ethics and in his phrases. 

“No tacky circus decor,” when his philosophy of life is derived from entertainment and the destruction that would happen if he’s left unattended for too long.  YOU are the circus alastor

In the Overlord meeting, he is left in disappointment and in ridicule as he expects attention due to his self-imposed importance. Recurringly, doubts over his power arise in the hotel thanks to his distaste for sinners and neglect towards them. He comes back after 7 years to be derided. Alastor is always caviling against authority, is this because he is the authority pushing down "rebels" in his world or wants to be it? There are only two ways of winning this authority: 1. to destroy 2. to become 

"I'm sure you've all been wondering!"

Characteristics of Alastor aside from the obvious charm, of course!

imposed belief of importance and/or of interest. It is not a deluded belief. It is something outsiders keep on giving him: the attention and thrill of being renowned. This can be seen from common sinners to Vox.

His list of priorities: 1. Alastor 2. Red fluff guy 3. Oh-Deer-Mug-Guy 4. Weird Cat Alastor and so on.

And it's not entirely incorrect! Vox gives him so much attention, no matter if negative. While Alastor can build his radio empire thanks to Vox... Alastor isn't entirely amused.

It's the annoyance.

Alastor is bemused at being threatened by others of an equal or higher rank, as seen with Lucifer as well. Continuing...

2. this "narcissism" is assured by minions that he knows how to play like pawns. If he cannot get his resource of attention from outsiders, he’ll get it himself with Niffty, Husker, and his weird-looking minions. 3.… all while destroying & humiliating those that are averse 

See Vaggie in Alastor's reprise and in the series. See Sir Pentious and… everyone. He is a contradictory character, he pits everyone against each other so he looks amiable compared to them, and yet he can’t help but antagonize those allied with him because he sees them all as pawns that he needs to force authority over. he continuously makes the people in his surrounding environment be as unregal as they can be compared to the likes like him. He holds himself with such an air of confidence there’s no room to doubt, and there are no other doors that lead to other rooms. His only acquaintance who appears to view him as a person interested in business is Rosie, a fellow cannibalistic overlord who praises manners, amorality, and culpability.   Last thing to determine what exactly he is..

he likes dependency and thrives on it

he forces it beyond remedy and thrives in deficiency in both tastes and relationships. He also has an inherent lack of respect.

Alastor is incredibly observant, see his assumption of Charlotte's struggles with her father due to her lack of resistance and heightened trust in Alastor as an authoritarian and therefore paternal figure. He doesn't seek dependency of others, worship, because just they could be useful. He seeks this form of worship as a pathological need for attention and power aside from the efficiency. To be the most important person in the room and have someone to corrupt. Charlie is a sheltered, young woman with childish hopes and dreams thanks to the care of the fallen angel, Lucifer and the first woman, Lilith (her sheltering mainly came from Lucifer and his inherent shame and culpability of raising Charlie in Hell while her hopes were enforced by her mother, the siren of hell). 

Alastor, at his arrival, states his true intentions to Charlie: 

“I want to watch the scum of the world struggle to climb up the hill of betterment only to repeatedly trip and tumble down to the fiery pit of failure!”

 but quickly regains his moral high ground in his reprise of Charlie’s song, “ Inside of Every Demon is a Rainbow '' , raising a feeling of importance and awareness to the original singer. It gives the message that someone held on to that song with quite an admiration to the point of a reprise. You can assume that, but the lyrics are a whole other mess. Alastor warms Charlie up by giving her the assurance she so craves while demolishing her beliefs.

“inside of every demon is a lost cause,”

He causes discord between the other residents of the hotel, humiliating Vaggie further by slapping her in the ass, shoving her, and so on. He also takes Charlie to dance and squashes her cheeks. What a lovely boy! 

…That’s what we think until we check in five days later, in Overture. Alastor is vain, so he only lets himself be tasked with a lazy chore(or a perfunctory courtesy) to gain trust and doesn’t accept any interventions from anyone, including the same person he did the chore for to manipulate. When Charlie, while praising him, interjects, Alastor isn’t convivial. 

His behavior is rather ordinary for everyone in the hotel as well. He belittles all the same, making it normalized and taken as a bluff, when he is in fact lowering everyone, including Charlie, in his world-view. Alastor is an egoist who doesn't advise acumen nor gives counsel. He has his own self-imposed self-discipline, recalcitrant and rigid all the time. That’s why he’s the perfect yet worst archetype of a mentor: he has a regime to follow and a mentor does not shape the younger counterpart into a reflection, they make the counterpart great like them. It's simple. While Alastor knows a lot of things and has his intellectuality, he's not willing to give it away for free. And yet, he is apathetic to most of the struggles even if he can take the pathway of becoming morally helpful and increasing trust with his comrades. It simply isn’t his bother and is neglectful most of the time with those that are not superficial (while loathing the act of being superficial) and when something catches his interest, he’ll force his way in, deprecate them, and take advantage of the situation (ep2 & ep7). He’s so arrogant that it’s his flaw, so prideful that ONLY if his power is threatened, his demeanor will change and seeking attention thanks to his power will become insecure about his surroundings and a potential risk of losing the power he collected (dad beats dad). He's paranoid, prideful until something else great comes in thanks to culpability. He analyzes the situation and uses everyone's skeletons in the closets against them. He establishes his power on the defenseless so as to not lose his social standing when stressed.

It’s not that he has a great patience and tolerance... it’s that whenever he fears or feels threatened, he demonstrates it against the "vulnerable" behind scenes. 

And it is in this that he finds the chance to mentor Charlie into greatness. A path into not snapping in front of Charlie and keeping his social image intact, impeccable, serving as someone to look up to for Charlie.

She’s filled with potential that I could guide

It is in episode 2, if not 1, when Alastor’s facade & pride starts to crumble as everyone questions his authority & power within and out of the hotel. he gets increasingly more stiff until "finale". but that's for another time! So, after summing up Alastor's character in brief words,

what is he? hypocrisy.. coming from ὑποκρίνομαι, 1. to answer 2. to interpret 3. (attic) to dialogue, to answer on the stage; to play a part, to be an actor.

He's like a chameleon, shifting between roles and motivations, often blurring the lines between mentor, antagonist, and entertainer. He is a symbol of hypocrisy, playing different roles to suit his own desires while leaving others to question their own perceptions of reality. Whether he's an actor, a director, or simply a part of the crowd is "unknown". He's perfectly misaligned. But from what we know right now…

he's paranoid, in the end. without attention, without leading people, without any aspect of what makes him him, even the smallest things, he's scared of what he earned to be taken away, to be manipulated.

Once I figure out how to unclip my wings, guess who will be pulling all the strings?

IMO an antagonistic force that doesn't mirror charlie, but rather is a shadow to make her confront everything while forcing her to give over her power: he's part of the crowd. he cannot participate thanks to his deal, he can't lead, but he can spectate. he isn't an entertainer: he expects to be the one the others are putting on a show for. His purpose in life is not to lead, it's to gain. to gain liberty, to gain power & control, to gain worship.

[typellblog]

I want to talk about what I'm going to call Trolley Problem Mindset, probably more accurately described as Naive Consequentialism.

You're familiar with the Trolley Problem, I won't go over the basics, but I do want to emphasize its actual, oft-forgotten purpose.

The problem isn't actually whether to pull the lever or not. We know whether you should pull the lever. The majority of people, when asked this question, reply that it is good, or at least permissible, to pull the lever and kill one person to save five. (If you disagree, that's fine, but not relevant to my point.)

The Problem of the Trolley is in figuring out a principle that accommodates this intuition. It presents a pretty picture of ethics, in which we trial a moral principle - "One should not kill innocent people." - and then test it through various hypothetical encounters, modifying when appropriate - "One should not kill innocent people except when it saves a greater number of lives than are lost."

In this way we discover the workings of our moral intuitions and derive generally applicable principles that are acceptable to the majority, and can give us guidance in situations where our intuitions fail to apply.

But in my view there is actually a pretty big Problem with this Trolley that results in it poisoning the principles derived thereof, and that is the completely unrealistic scenarios we're presented with. (Critiques along these lines have been made by smarter people than me, this is just a way of expressing my own feelings about it.)

The main feature of the Trolley Problem, of any trolley problem, is a complete certainty of outcome. We know what will happen if we pull the lever. We know what will happen if we don't. We even know what will happen if we try to stop the trolley by other means, or untie the people on the tracks. It won't work.

We don't know the future ramifications of the situation, whether the trolley company will put more safety measures in place, whether you'll be put on trial for killing the one, whether the five will turn out to be mass murderers better off left to die. But it's fine that we don't know, because these things aren't supposed to factor into the decision.

We are in a box. A box with clearly defined walls in which certain consequences are worth caring about, because we know them, and others aren't, because we don't.

It is a very comforting box. It makes it simple to intuit the answer. It's a hard question, that requires a hard choice, but don't we have to make hard choices sometimes? It makes sense. It is also a lie.

As far as I'm concerned any intuitions derived thereof are worse than useless, because many of the most important moral questions of our time are not in a box.

Take, for example, political decisions. You cannot possibly tell me all the consequences of relaxing COVID policy and the relative utility generated or lost. We know some of the consequences, for sure. You can even make a decent guess at the death toll. But what about the potential economic value generated by letting people back into restaurants? Could that outweigh the deaths? I think many people reading this would agree that it's absurd on the face of it to suffer deaths in order to preserve economic value, but of course this is all in aggregate, and the additional economic value would also save some lives. My point is merely that you're not just thinking about the outcomes here, are you.

I find that left-leaning political thought is uniquely concerned with systems, rather than individuals. This makes it absurdly difficult to construct a box. We understand our own political decisions as only responsible for a tiny ripple in the tide of history. We understand the consequences of that movement as a vast number of run-on effects which are impossible to quantify from our current position. How do we decide where to draw the walls of the box?

Take a step back. Say you encounter a homeless person on the street and they ask you for some money. You can't really know the consequences of giving them $20. Decent chance they spend it on food, of course, but what about (shocked gasp) drugs? What about the knock-on effects of the Chinese takeout place they go to getting another order that night? You can make the judgement that they probably need the money more than you, but that's not a judgement made with full awareness of the consequences.

Many of our decisions are made in boxes, of course. We create the boxes in order to deal with the very, very complicated nature of the universe and only consider the consequences directly in front of us. This is fine. But sometimes the most obvious and immediate consequences are still not easily quantifiable.

You cannot kill people from this position. It's a ridiculous proposition. The possibility that you could be wrong, that if you simply rushed over to untie the ropes the five could be saved, makes the idea of choosing to sacrifice the one absurd. A society composed entirely of people who made decisions like this would be terrifying to live in.

A naive understanding of the Trolley Problem might be that it represents a choice between utilitarianism, which advocates killing the one and some other (usually Kantian) philosophy, which does not.

In fact, the Problem is more like an argument for utilitarianism and consequentialist ideologies more broadly, because it supposes that we can know outcomes with certainty.

Remember, trolley problems are designed in order to test our intuitions. In other words, it was created for the purpose of making a situation where you find it intuitively justifiable to sacrifice an innocent person.

This is not an inherently bad thing. Most thought experiments exist to push for a particular view. But it is important to realise that the Trolley Problem does not arise naturally. It is not a neutral question to ask or answer.

Which is why I find it concerning when people (seemingly unconsciously) replicate its logic across different choices.

Take, for example, the 2024 American election (yeah. sorry.)

The discourse surrounding who to vote for, if at all, is remarkably reminiscent of a trolley problem. Trump is largely discounted as a possibility, leaving Biden or the functionally identical options of no vote, 3rd party, etc.

Voting Biden is equivalent to pulling the lever. We understand that Biden wouldn't be a great president, that atrocities like that currently happening in Gaza (not a hypothetical!) could happen under his administration. But killing one person is better than five.

Not voting is equivalent to doing nothing in the Trolley Problem. Contributing to Biden's election would be contributing to any harm he does or fails to prevent. Avoiding this is preferable, even if it allows a greater harm to happen.

Obvious problems with this framing emerge immediately. Not voting is not the same thing as letting Trump win, because we do not know if he is the default winner without your vote, unlike how killing five people is the default path of the trolley. A single vote doesn't swing elections, anyway. The idea that you would be personally responsible for the outcome in the same way as the agent in the Trolley Problem is laughable.

In fact, in several states, one's vote doesn't affect the election at all, because they are known to be 'safe' blue or red states.

This is never brought up in these discussions of who to vote for because consciously or otherwise people want it to be a trolley problem. They want it to be in a box. They want their vote to be a real, important decision. Most importantly, they want to know the consequences.

It's an accepted truth in these discussions that Trump would be worse. I don't want to disagree. He's pretty bad. But you don't know that for certain, do you?

And that's the only consequence you're looking at - the direct outcomes of their presidency. What about well into the future? What is the consequence of signalling that you're willing to take the devil's bargain, that you will vote for 99% Hitler so long as you are confronted with 100% Hitler?

In a way this is a bad example because - well, there are two reasons. One, I'm not from the US, but two, I would still vote for Biden if I had the chance. I think the way that people often talk about this is weird and wrong enough that it's useful to illustrate an issue I have but it's not actually wrong enough to put me on the opposite side, there.

I guess the point I'm getting to is that you have to make choices without knowing the outcome sometimes, and you shouldn't need to pretend that you do in order for it to make sense to you.

There's enough posts going around about how leftists need to be Pragmatic, and sticking to principles when they don't accomplish anything is worthless, and how people prefer inaction to action that makes them feel complicit in something bad, which is Purity Politics and therefore Stupid

that this feels like an almost sacrilegious direction to think in, but

Consequences are not everything when it comes to morality.

I don't mean to ignore consequences, but to acknowledge the limits of our understanding - to both take into account those consequences we can know, and to not discount those we can't.

Consequences inform our picture of the situation, our understanding of the stakes, but they're not the entirety of the answer to every question.

Our choices should be made in line with our consciences, with our understanding of virtue.

There are many leftist beliefs that line up with utilitarianism: take the idea of welfarism, that our goal should be to improve people's wellbeing in real, practical ways. Or impartialism - the idea that every person's life should be considered equally.

But I don't want to let the consequentialism sneak in unchallenged alongside them!

A big impetus behind this post was something I saw on twitter yesterday.

I'm sure I agree entirely with this person about how cruel it is to devalue the lives of these death row inmates.

I just think it is absurd to ask an individual to make this decision. That, in fact, we do not need to ask an individual to make this decision. This situation does not arise in real life. We can advocate for treating death row prisoners better without killing your wife. You can walk away from Omelas.

The Trolley Problem Mindset supposedly asks us to make the hard choices. But it's an illusion. Within the context of the Trolley Problem, these choices are actually really easy. It's really easy to consign innocent lives to oblivion when you can pretend you know for sure it will lead to a better outcome for many more.

And I think that, if anything, is the real problem.

[honorary-knight-of-favonius]

Kinktober

Hello everyone! As most of you may know I haven't been all that active recently due to personal projects, school, and work. I apologize for disappearing so suddenly but I'm here to announce I will be participating in KinkTober!!!

This is my list:

Albedo 

Oct 1st- Orgasm Denial, Toys - Sometimes Experiments test your limits

Oct 28- Threesome (With himself), Revenge sex  - Perhaps Limits should be pushed more often. . .they lead to the sweetest kind of revenge

Al Haitham

Oct 2nd- Voyeurism, Bulge (Al Haitham!Sub) - You and your 'old ass' husband decided to something rather risky in public while your husband thanks his wife is receiving his it actual seems he was wrong and his lovely wife fucked him instead.

Ayato

Oct 3rd- Lap Dance, face sitting - The Yakuza boss has only ever fallen for one woman. He would let her get away with anything as long as she was his. With ease he now has the woman in his grasp.

Baizhu

Oct 4th- Body Worshiping, Medical (Baizhu!Dom) - As she meets a doctor that not only helps her medically but sexually she instantly choses that maybe this doctor can heal her heart.

Oct 29- CNC, Lingerie (Baizhu!Switch) - In desperate need for another model after one ditched and left you high and dry you ask your coordinator to provide some much needed assistance in exchange for a want of his.

Childe

Oct 5th- Degradation, Pain kink - Sometime digging your claws into the back of the person pissing you off is the best course of action even if it isn't the most ethical

Cyno

Oct 6- Shower sex, Professor/Tutor - Having to harshly accept something the tan boy would never even think to question somehow lead to him and his girlfriend together in a steamy shower.

Dainsleif

Oct 7th- Polaroids, Solo - He despises the get out of jail free card as he is forced to endure the relentless horniness; yet he desperately needs the release even if the means our humiliating

Oct 27- Chasity Cage, Ruined Orgasms

Diluc

Oct 8th- Car sex, getting caught - Perhaps he should've waited until he got home, maybe if he did he wouldn't have been embarrassed and lost the only contact with the person he was head over heels for but at last he didn't. . .

Oct 26- Sensory Deprivation, Heat play - He needed to apologize he needed to get back in her good graces. He'd do anything to hear her voice, to see her, fuck even feel her. He was going insane but thankfully his insanity paid off.

Dottore

Oct 9- Hate sex, Humilation - After leaving her humilated one to many times she finally gets her revenge.

Enjou

Oct 31- Monster fucking, ice play - Sometimes the monster under the bed needs to be satisfide too.

Eremite

Oct 11 - Gangbang, Freeuse (Eremite!Dom) - As a doctor it is their job to make sure all of their patients are satisfied with their care, regardless of what type of care it is.

Fatui (Pyro Gunslinger)

Oct 12-  Gloryhole, vanilla (Fatui!Dom) - Despite not wanting to go to the gloryhole but the moment she is being fucked by some random stranger who gave her, his number it was clear she was going to enjoy this place a lot more from now on.

Gorou

Oct 13- Virgin, Dry humping (Gorou!Sub) - Neither of them suspected they'd have any fun at a club until they met each other and took the time to have some fun. Giving the opportunity for more fun in the future.

Itto

Oct 14- Breeding, Restraints - Breeding season for Kitsune is the a very bad time for the meathead Oni but at least he had guidance this time around.

Kaeya 

Oct 15- Roleplay, Strength kink  - Some people need to take the hint rather than disturb his boss and his lover.

Kazuha

Oct 16- Bondage, make-up sex -

Nobushi

Oct 17- Praise, Dumfication -

Pantalone

Oct 18- Sex tape, Squirting (Pantalone!Dom) - Being able to sexually express yourself to your partner often times lead to unimaginable kinds of orgasms

Oct 30- Streaming, Hand kink (Pantalone!Sub) - Pantalone is being punished for being a brat by his Mistress on camera allowing his viewers to see him being edged until he breaks and asks forgiveness having his mistress join the livestream as he finally cums.

Pierro

Oct 19- Fingering, Cheating (Pierro!Dom) - Did she really come for the traditions or did she come her for the potential of pleasure from a man she could never get until now?

Scaramouche

Oct 20-  Marking, Somnophila - Payback is truly a bitch sometimes.

Thoma

Oct 21- Rough sex, Choking (Thoma!Dom) - While Thoma is normally a happy-go-lucky person having someone flirt and feel up his soon to be husband drives him mad so mad he takes it out on his husband in a very welcomed sexual way.

Oct 10- Mirror, Edging (Thoma!Sub) - Being possessive and having a kind husband that treats everyone kindly is one of the worst combos but in this sense a combo that they adore.

Tighnari

Oct 22- Aphrodisiacs, Thigh riding - Perhaps he might've pushed himself to his limits this time. . . luckily he has his boyfriend to care for him.

Venti

Oct 23- Moring sex, lazy sex - Sometimes being lazy is the best remedy after having the person you've been missing dearly

Xiao

Oct 24- Demon, Collaring - Claiming an Incubus comes with many perks, at least when you know you've claimed one for yourself.

Zhongli

Oct 25- Teasing, Cockwarming  - All he wanted was to join a social gathering among co-workers but little did he know his partner and boss was keen on making sure his attention was on them, and them alone.

I will also add a taglist for the Kinktober entries as a sort of test phase. I'll be using this to see if having a permeant taglist is something I'd liked to do and I'll see the response you guys give it so this is the Taglist:

@stygianoir @yunadxd

[pruning-the-minds-garden]

Index Of Writings on Safety & Consent

Included in this list will be some adjacent posts that aren't explicitly about safety or consent. I will put them in a "related content" section below to separate them out, as they are information, education or opinion-related topics related to kink in general without being overtly sexual, but aren't specifically about either safety or consent.

... okay okay okay they are mostly about other stuff right now but I will fill that out in due course...

Writings on Safety and Consent:

On Trust: A writing about the place of trust in the hypnokink community, and specifically about the idea of proximal trust (read for more), and whether I want you to trust me implicitly (I do not), and where I think accountability lay for abuse (with abusers).

Towards a Safe(r) Hypnokink: a prelude to the second post on this list, it details a number of the Best Practices that the second post elaborates on even further.

Layered Best Practices in Erotic Hypnosis: This is exactly what it sounds like, covering a whole array of best practices starting from the very beginning going to the very end to keep you and your partner safe and make sure you have as enjoyable a time as possible in your hypnokinky scene.

Five Lessons: Five Lessons gained while I was having active discussions with people, putting myself out there as a hypnotist specifically focused on doing trances for safety suggestions and to help ameliorate the effects of hypnokink scenes gone awry.

Making Dreams Come True: Dropped By A Stranger: In this writing I talk about how to feasibly and safely make the fantasy of being dropped and used by strangers into a reality. It's not exactly the same as the version that people often envision, but this one comes with 100% fewer internet randos deciding to use you in ways you did not consent to being used!

Writings on Safety and Consent by Other Hypnokinksters

Here are some of the better and more comprehensive writings on the subject by other hypnokinksters. I will add to this list as I run across other posts on the subject, and people are free to send some to me as well.

"They Must Have Wanted It": A post about arousal non-concordance (that is, how physical arousal does not correlate with or imply consent and how that disconnect happens) and how that applies to hypnokink as well, and can be broadened to more phenomena than just sex. (Originally by @writtenbynath)

Can a Hypnotist Make You Do Things You Don't Want?: Answering, essentially, the question right there on the tin. This delves into the somewhat layered answered to whether a hypnotist can do that, and why they both can and can't in different scenarios, and the complexities of consent. (Originally by @writtenbynath)

Hypnosis Ethics: Setting Aside the Myths: Ethical Hypnotists Use Safeties - A post discussing how intrinsic safeties - that is, safeties that work within the trance itself and are laid down in the trance itself - are not by themselves enough to minimize the risk from hypnokink. I also added a bit at the end. (originally by @sweetsurrenderdoll)

Hypnosis Ethics & Safe Practice Advocates: Be Careful Who You Listen To - A short primer on the idea that you should be careful who you listen to in the hypnokink safety and consent space, and make sure that you are consciously judging and scrutinizing the advice you receive to be sure it is good. I added my own thoughts at the end, also. (originally by @sweetsurrenderdoll)

Resources to Avoid and Deprogram from Cult Thinking: A multi-author post that is exactly what it sounds like, an extensive list of resources and tools to prevent and break people out of cult-like thinking and avoid it yourself, as well as that discusses some stuff around Gen Z and TikTok. (By several contributing authors)

Guidance on Reality-Altering Hypnokink and Psychosis: This post focuses on the "Goncharov" fake fandom as a lens through which to talk about the potential impact that blurring the line between reality and unreality can have on people, especially people with psychosis (ex: schizophrenia). (Originally by @misscammiedawn)

Shutting Down a Scene: A short guide on a set of circumstances in which a Dom would want to stop a scene, when it is clear that their partner has lost the capacity to provide ongoing, meaningful consent. (Originally by @instructor144, though his blog has since been deleted)*

How to use self hypnosis to change or remove hypnotic suggestions on yourself: Exactly what it sounds like, a guide on how to use self-hypnosis to remove adverse suggestions in your own mind without any outside assistance (Originally by @writtenbynath)

Safety Thoughts from Vulnerable Experiences: Starting with a bit about NNPP, Yoyo talks about subject agency and reclaiming yourself after your limits have eroded because of abusive hypnotists and unsafe hypnokink practices. (Originally by @yoyomindloops )

The Hypnofetish Trust Pyramid: This lays out a model for trust and rapport in hypnokinky relationships, that encompasses the explicitly consensual, dubiously consensual, CNConsensual, and others, as well as discussing aftercare and out-of-scene interactions and the importance of having and building a healthy dynamic. (Originally by @fallinginward)

Unethical Files, Content Warnings, and Dubious Consent: A rather lengthy breakdown of some of the potential dangers of some free files, and things to watch out for if listening to them. (Originally by @rainytigerdinosaur)

Patterns of a Predatory Hypnotist: This is another lengthy breakdown on dangers in the hypnokink community, this time the general patterns of behavioral escalation to look out for to keep yourself safe. (Originally by @rainytigerdinosaur)

Signs of Hypnotic Abuse: And this is the third file in RTD's safety set, this one on the signs to look out for in yourself which can indicate to you that you are in a potentially unhealthy dynamic. (again, Originally by @rainytigerdinosaur)

Thoughts on Consent - Best Practices, and When Those Aren't Necessary: Like a lot of other articles here, it's exactly what it says on the tin. It describes some best practices of consent in hypnokink - or kink in general, really - and some cases where those best practices aren't really necessary. Life is complicated, and you don't always need to play with the absolute highest level of safety as you would with a new, first-time partner. (Originally by @daja-the-hypnokitten)

How to do Kink as a Disabled Person / Spoonie: A long list of tips from multiple creators on how to do various kinks and sexual practices if you are a disabled person, and for various meanings/iterations of disability.

[delta-queerdrant]

in a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways (Cold Fire, s2 e10)

Around the time I watched “Cold Fire,” I read an excerpt from poet Maggie Smith’s memoir, which chronicled how, as a writer and primary caregiver to her kids, she found professional success incompatible with the survival of her marriage. “Please don’t,” she tells a friend who wants to send Smith's husband a picture of the line at her book signing. “It’ll just make everything worse.”

The piece made me so sad, the same sadness I feel every time I’m reminded that our culture is terrified of powerful women. We see this in our popular culture, with its recurring tropes of ungovernable female villains, and perhaps more insidiously, female heroes whose own power is their greatest threat. Men and boys are tasked to defeat external obstacles, but women are always struggling against ourselves. 

“Cold Fire” simultaneously evokes and dodges these themes of dangerous female power in a way that feels very squishy and contradictory. Kes gains access to “dark” Ocampan powers and has to overcome them, but the episode makes the empathetic choice to portray her journey as universal rather than as evidence of a personal failing. “Do not fear your negative thoughts,” Tuvok, Zen master, tells her in the final scene. “They are part of you. They are part of every living being, even Vulcans.” Even Neelix is on board with her self-discovery, earning a stamp in his underutilized “good boyfriend” passport for being genuinely excited about her personal growth.

As the episode opens, Tuvok is leading Kes through a frankly creepy telepathy session (aren’t there mindreading ethics?), when Voyager stumbles on a Caretaker-like array populated by Ocampa. Kes gets to play diplomat to the colony, a fun expansion of her skillset.

Suspiria, the female Caretaker, reinforces the “lawful male / chaotic female” vibe of the episode - while the Caretaker we’re familiar with played divine patriarch to Kes’s people, Suspiria has settled the Ocampa in her own array and gifted them with psionic powers. The whereabouts of the second Caretaker has been one of the chief ongoing mysteries of the show, but Suspiria is frankly very boring - a vengeful, irrational goddess who takes form as a little girl. (Star Trek seems to have a penchant for “tiny blond girls as otherworldly aliens.”) The episode closes with her return being teased, but of course we never see her again.

Under the tutelage of Tanis, who serves as emissary of Suspiria’s tower of Babel, Kes nearly kills Tuvok with her developing psychic powers. Soon after, she nukes the contents of the airponics bay and, doing so, discovers the joy of wielding death and destruction. This is where the episode veers into silliness for me. Jennifer Lien is a great actor, but I can’t buy her performance, because the script doesn't feel, to me, rooted in character.

Parables about power often make this mistake: “it’s intoxicating!” “It’s like a drug!” But people chase power (and intoxication) for extremely personal reasons. Kes is a character driven by intellectual curiosity, and while she’s totally capable of leaving her friends behind for a sufficiently compelling adventure, I can’t see her being tempted to align herself with an amoral weirdo like Tanis. If people are going to write stories about dangerous women, they should at least take a moment to ask why a woman might want to be dangerous.

Happily, Kes doesn’t have to give up her powers; she uses them to save the day and resolves to find balance under Tuvok’s guidance. But I’m not sure this show ever finds the plot when it comes to Kes’s abilities and what they mean to her. At the end of the day, it’s just kinda an incoherent mess. 

2.5/5 dark impulses.