#not that he owns these pigeons he just feeds them a lot

[phyrestartr]

Heyyy I'm not sure if you take requests but I have an idea-

Reincarnated! Husband sukuna x Dead spouse (husband) Male Reader: this one is kind of like sukuna fucks up a lot, I think this can work out as an omegaverse? He cheats, fucks around, or doesn't even give af about m reader who is his fated pair, but then m! reader died and since they were mated he's like “shit I can't live without him” so he tries to be good to him the next life and they have happy family the end.

Replay (This Time I'll Get It Right) | Sukuna x Male!Reader (Part 1 of 2)

W/C: 1.6k #alpha!sukuna, omega!reader, mentions of suicide, mentions of murder, ABO dynamics, mentions of stalking, mentions of toxic exes, sukuna sucks, sukuna sucks less eventually, reincarnation, next lives, angst, drama, hurt/comfort, toxic relationships, infidelity/cheating

NOTE: Thank you for your patience!! It's still not quite done, but I wanted to post the first part up while i think of the rest of the story (got a vague idea of how it'll go, so should come out soon). Ty for the req!

tags: @kamote-kuneho @prettorett @memedealer-exe @tr4nniez @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @memedealer-exe @silvern1006

♪ Here With Me - d4vd

♪ Watch the sunrise along the coast

As we’re both getting old ♪

Sukuna puffed on a cigarette, staring out at the city lights. You always liked coming here, to this little cliff hanging above the city–especially when you were stuck on lyrics or tabs of whatever song you were working on. This hillside spot was cheesy and stupid, but you loved the way it felt like an old-school chick flick when you drove up here in your beater.

In this spot, Sukuna realized you had an old soul, one that basked in the simple, mundane things like stargazing and city-watching. It was a step away from feeding pigeons in the park, your producer decided. The way that made you laugh still sent his heart on a wild chase. That, too, was the first moment he realized he wanted you more than just a collaborator. 

And, maybe, if he had pushed aside the partying, the drugs, the women, he might’ve bothered checking his phone. He might’ve been able to apologize for wrongs done and words said, to get back on the right track. He might've not found out about you on the news. Maybe he could have given you everything you wanted–

But he couldn’t. Not anymore. 

♪ I can’t describe what I’m feeling

And all I know is we’re going home ♪

Even after locking you down and starting on that stupid journey to start a family, his spirit still yearned to wander free. 

So it did. 

Primal wants controlled him. He allowed them to steer him away from the safety of your touch and into the gnashing jaws of excitement, of danger. All because the two of you were starting to make it–you were starting to leave your mark on this world, and Sukuna let the fame and greed get to him. 

But how could he not jump at the chance to fuck the famous and infamous? How could he stay faithful to just you, a smalltown boy, when big city celebrities reached out to him, pulling him into big deals and bigger beds? How could he–

His phone blitzed to life again, ringing in the hollow quiet of a too-expensive car. The call went to voicemail, leaving him in the pits of Tartarus again, drowning in the frigid rain beating against his car windows like a million bullets trying to seek the death penalty.

Did angels do that? Take revenge for their own kind? He’d understand it. Jin, an angel in his own right, exiled his Luciferian twin from the celestial plane, barring him from what was left of that tiny spark of love and hope he called “family.” 

♪ So please don’t let me go, oh

Don’t let me go ♪

His phone rang again. He remembered picking it up once upon a time, listening to your shaky voice as you told him the worst and best news he’d ever heard in his entire existence: “I’m pregnant.” 

Sukuna didn’t know what true fear and excitement were until that moment. You laughed through waterworks, lifted by Sukuna’s uncontrolled motor-mouthing and celebrating as he hooted and hollered on the other line. The women your husband was with gave him weird looks, but he didn’t care–you were pregnant. You were going to–

You were going to have his kid. His pup. A shared little joy, a spark of hope for the future. And then–then someone took that away. 

The sorry waste of life, the obsessive ex you vehemently feared, left behind a note for whomever found the tragedy: “I'll take care of them from now on.”

Sukuna knew there had to be more to it, there had to be more of an explanation, but the media wasn't interested; they only wanted to use and abuse your name and face for articles and news reports, not to reminisce on you nor the woe of a murder-suicide.

How come no one cared? Why did no one fucking care?

♪ Save your tears, it’ll be okay

All I know is you’re here with me ♪

He snapped. Sukuna kicked the dashboard. His boot cracked against the console again and again and again until your siren song died in a quick fit of static. He crashed his heel into the broken screen a dozen more times, each impact punching shout after shout out of his tight throat as the weight of the fucking sky collapsed on him. He wasn’t Atlas. He couldn’t hold it up. He never could, not by himself.

Sukuna heaved in breaths. His stomach swirled and churned with nausea. He held his head and leaned back, screaming into the thunder that shook the world with a vital roar, hiding heartbroken howls.

Why? Why? Why? 

“Deep breaths, Sukuna,” your voice cooed. It came from the darkness, from the forgotten corners of his mind. Why were–ah, right. He’d been here before, overcome with agony and grief. Unable to breathe, unable to cope, unable to exist.  

He followed your instructions. 

“In. Out. In. Out.”

In. Out. In. Out.

The phone rang again. Sukuna answered. He hoped whoever it was would tell him this was all just a bad joke. A bad dream. It wasn’t real. 

“Finally,” Wasuke sighed on the other end of the line. “Kid, where the fuck are you?”

Sukuna stared up at the roof of the car. Words smeared and oozed like molasses in his mind. He couldn’t understand the words he knew he could understand. 

“Sukuna.” 

“What the fuck do I do?” Sukuna asked. His voice quivered. Chipped and cracked.

His father fell quiet. But he was wise. So fucking wise and so good at everything that came with life and death, morality and love. 

“Become a better man,” he said, like it was so simple. 

Sukuna scoffed. “H-How the fuck–”

“Quiet, kid.” Wasuke sighed. “That boy loved you. He had faith in you as a partner and a father. Remember that. Honour that, and become the man he knew you could be.”

Sukuna didn’t know his heart could break more, but it did. 

He sobbed. To his father, to himself, to you, to that unborn joy, to whatever fuckhead created life and love in the first place. He cried for forgiveness, for a second shot. 

“I’ll try,” Sukuna bit out. “I’ll try.” 

–

♪ I wish I could live through every memory again

Just one more time before we float off in the wind ♪

Sukuna woke up to that song. It was the same one that played in his nightmares, the same one that robbed him of sleep until he lost his mind and–and–

“What the fuck happened?” Sukuna croaked to whatever singing nymph fluttered around him. 

The damn song stopped, leaving Sukuna in just a second of tumultuous silence. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

The rhythmic chirping of some machine–a heart monitor, maybe? A metronome?--kicked up into double time, jamming an ice pick into his skull further and further with every hellish second that passed by. He could almost hear the radio static, the warp of a ballad calling to him. And it wouldn't stop. It wouldn't stop. Why wouldn't it stop? Why? Why? Why?

“Hey,” your voice cooed. Your hand rested atop of Sukuna's and squeezed. “Can you hear me?” 

Sukuna cracked a tired eye open to look up at you; you were perfect. God-given. A blessing he needed to see right now with your gentle eyes and kind smile, the gentle scent of lavender and vanilla cutting through the disgusting sterility of the room. 

“Can hear you,” Sukuna rasped. His hand tried to turn to hold yours, and you helped by slipping your palm into his. His heart rate slowed with the rhythm of the machine. 

You nodded and covered your clasped hands with your other one. “Good. You probably don't remember, but you were in an accident. A car side-swiped you when you were on your motorcycle.”

“No shit.” 

“Yes shit. But you're alright. Would recommend wearing a helmet from now on.” You pat his hand before slipping both of yours free. “I'll call the doctor and your family. They'll be glad to know you're awake, Itadori-san.” 

He wanted to ask you to stay. He didn't want you to go, not right then, maybe not at all. 

But you flashed him another comforting smile and slipped out of the room before he could object.

–

His father came by. Jin and his son, too. Uraume and Yorozu scolded him for not wearing a helmet. The ragtag group of hooligans he unfortunately associated with (just for the sake of going to their fancy-ass parties, he reasoned) came and went, too; Gojo gave him headaches, Getou made it worse, Ieiri wasn’t so bad.

Then there was you. You were always humming some sort of tune, whether it be the song from his nightmares or something he'd never heard before. Sukuna liked it, the sound of your voice, but you'd always clam up the second you realized someone might hear. 

It led him to pretend to be asleep far too many times during his recovery. Your songs eased his wildfire spirit, let it simmer down and curl up comfortably in a ring of stones to keep those near safe and warm without the fear of being burned alive. Hell, they could probably even make some s’mores if they wanted. 

Eventually, though, Sukuna wanted to know more. And what better person to ask than the burgeoning med student herself?

“Oh, [Name]?” Ieiri asked, sitting beside Sukuna’s bed and looking over the machines connected to Sukuna with rapt attention. “He’s a new-ish nurse from what I get. Pretty cute, huh? Apparently passed his exams no problem and–” 

Sukuna rolled his eyes. “If you don’t know relevant shit then just–”

“He’s single. Omega. Likes men. Kinda older than us. Gojo and Getou got rejected already.” 

That shut Sukuna up. 

[seelestars]

sunday w/ a fellow halovian s/o …

a/n : there needs to be more love for this little pigeon … he’s so cute im in love ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡ but alas, the only thing i can do is take matters into my own hands and contribute to feeding fellow sunday likers … can’t believe i’ve posted x2 in a day

- as a halovian, you’d likely be in one of the other families in penacony (bloodhound, iris, nightingale, alfafa)

- i think this would be smth sunday enjoys a lot, as he feels like he doesn’t need to hide as much when it comes to matters concerning the family and penacony since you’re already apart of the family as well, which means you know more about the inside matters of penacony

- but besides that, he also enjoys sharing the products he uses for his wings with you

- he’ll gently massage luxurious, expensive oils into your feathers

- if you decide to reciprocate such gestures and massage his wings as well, he’ll be very appreciative and happy—accepting your care with a soft yet subtle smile and a rosy tint on his cheeks

- whenever the two of you kiss each other, your wings always tickle each other (smth that always makes you giggle while he lets out quiet chuckles)

- if you got matching wing piercings with him .. he’ll be staring at them nonstop

- gets the two of you matching pairs of … wingrings? (feels wrong to say earrings…) with the color of his eyes and the color of your eyes

- might get a bit silly sometimes and communicate with you telepathically about certain opinions that he can’t voice around guests

- his smile widens just the slightest once you respond back with telepathy as well

in the quiet intimacy of your shared home, you were currently indulging in some self-care. “that feels so good…” you sigh softly as sunday hummed while massaging different oils into your feathers. you could feel yourself relax as you leaned against him, his touch very soothing and pleasurable on your sensitive wings.

“im glad it does.” sunday grins fondly once he notices you enjoying his touch, taking it as a sign to continue as you melt into the warmth of his bare hands. he made sure to handle your wings as delicately as possible, not wanting to cause you any harm. it was clear his touch was full of love and affection, massaging the spots he knew you liked most.

soon enough, sunday finishes caring for your wings. you already feel yourself craving for more of his touch. you just can’t seem to be satiated when it comes to him… after pondering for a moment on how else you could satisfy such feelings, your eyes lit up. “sunday! you should let me massage your wings too!” you beam, eagerly grabbing the bottles of essential oils.

“…ah? if that’s what you want, then go ahead my love.” sunday’s eyes slightly widened in surprise, you had never proposed such an idea to him before. it was always him being the one taking care of you—but he supposes he doesn’t mind if you were the one taking care of him for once.

and so, he found himself being soothed by your caresses as you gently rub the oils into all the crevices on his wings. you managed to provoke a laugh out of him quite a few times when you accidentally reached spots that were ticklish for him. with your touch, only one thought remained in his head.

he hoped he would get more opportunities like this in the future.

[bornagainmurdock]

my controversial matt murdock headcannons pt2

contents: sfw, very all over the place, but i'm sure you expected that

word count: .5k

has a playlist he listens to when he's getting ready to go on patrol that's full of 90s pop classics, including vogue by madonna and just a girl by no doubt

thinks about officially learning how to ballroom dance but is too scared to trip and fall in front of everyone, so he just practices in his apartment by himself

every song foggy has ever played for him is in a playlist called 'fog's favorites'

spotify user but doesn't pay for it, gets really frustrated when ads play but refuses to pay bc "It's the prinicpal of it all, you see they take music, a human thing and make you pay for it. that's unethical"

still owns a jump rope from when he was a kid but refuses to use it because he doesn't want to break it

has a large candle and mug collection bc he once said he likes coffee and when things smell good and now everyone gets him mugs and candles as gifts even though he refuses to have fire in the apartment

scared of fire in a way that is so visceral and upsetting

but loves a fireplace and listening to music and drinking a hot drink out of one of his hundreds of mugs in the winter

thinks a lot about taking classes at NYU in the history and psych dept to expand his knowledge

likes feeling the warmth of the sun in the morning and placed his bed perfectly in the room in order to be woken up that way every morning

his closet is organized in a way that is so orderly and simultaneously a nightmare to navigate bc matt uses his touch to find clothes so as long as he can feel it, it's fine where its at

has dropped and broken his phone hundreds of times and only knows its broken when he picks it up and he can feel the screen protector shattered

would call his partner 'counsellor' as a bit and then cannot stop doing it

hates going to stores where there's too much scent happening like bath and body works or lush

always dreamed of having an old man recliner in his future apartment, it's a financial priority and he would hold off retiring just to get his nice soft cozy chair

has timers set for specific times in the day because otherwise he will absolutely lose track of time and be unable to stay on schedule

has broken his red glasses often bc he puts them in his back pocket and sits, listening to them crunch under him

likes spin-y bar stools and will spin all night long at the bar

anime fan, like adventure anime where the protagonist and his friends have to go save the world or something

specifically loves hunter x hunter

enjoys doing lego sets but they never turn out quite right

has a lego collesium display in the office that foggy helped him finish and then glue together

hates sour candy

hates crocs, would rather lick a NYC sidewalk

has never been in a toys'r'us, but has nostaligia for the store

will feed the pigeons even though he understands the consequences

terrfied of geese

[cuubism]

unfortunately for my sanity i am thinking about them again [sheltered rich boy dream and feral child hob]

--

In retrospect, it was fitting that the first time Dream met Hob, he was breaking a rule.

It hadn’t been easy. Dream did not like to lie, and wasn’t very good at it besides. And breaking rules made him nervous. Broken rules carried consequences. But he’d needed to get out of the house, just for a moment. To clear his head. And just going for a walk was not a good enough reason to leave the house when he could be doing something more productive. Something better. Make some use of yourself, Dream.

So Dream had crafted a little story of extra studying, extra work, and managed to slip out. Dream did not always tell the truth, could not, but usually he lived in the shadows left by omission. The outward lie was bitter on the back of his tongue.

But he’d been freed. And now he was wandering. He did not often get the chance to wander, untended, unobserved. Making his unsteady way down the winding road leading out of the estate, and then into town, where he’d never really walked before. It was just getting late, almost sunset on a Thursday evening, and the streets were fairly quiet, only a handful of people about. And Dream wandered, not quite knowing what to do with himself but enjoying the quiet in his head.

Possibly meandering about on his own was a bad idea. Possibly he’d be hit by a car or attacked by a madman. He didn’t think he much cared.

And that was when he met Hob. That first dip of his toes into freedom.

He was sitting on a bench in the park, watching the small scattering of pigeons pecking for seeds by the fountain. Dream had always liked birds, but it wasn’t often he had the chance to sit and just watch them. He studied their patterns, mentally tracking the shapes they traversed, their mathematical lines. He should have brought his sketchbook. It would have been nice to work from live subjects, for once.

He was deep in his thoughts, in the calming trickle of the fountain and the repetitive paths of the birds, when another boy about his age plopped down on the bench beside him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so depressed while feeding birds.”

The birds had fluttered up in disarray at the sudden motion, but settled down again quickly. Dream looked at the other boy askance, irritated at his rare peace being interrupted.

“Do you often speak with people who are busy feeding birds?” he asked, unable to keep the annoyance from his tone.

“Only when they’re broody and mysterious,” said the boy. He wasn’t wearing a school uniform, but he must have been college age, like Dream. Dream was still wearing his jacket and trousers, for his own part. Everything about this boy was looser, really, from his longish brown hair, to his jeans and t-shirt. It made Dream feel very uptight in comparison, which was not a fact about himself he needed reinforced. He already knew it. “Do you often feed birds?”

“I am not feeding them,” Dream said. “They are eating what was there.”

“Just spying on them, then,” said the boy teasingly. Dream did not know what to do about being teased with what seemed like lightheartedness rather than mockery, and so didn’t respond.

“Seriously,” said the boy. “Are you okay?”

Then Dream did look at his face properly. He had very kind, very genuine eyes, was the first thing Dream noticed. It was not something he noticed about a lot of people. Perhaps it was not something a lot of people possessed.

Then the boy smiled at him, a soft, kind smile. It transformed his whole face from something merely pleasant to something lovely.

“Is that why you have come over?”

The boy shrugged. “You looked sad and alone. I’ve been sad and alone before, so I don’t think anyone else should.”

Dream bristled. “I am not sad and alone.”

“Just alone, then?”

Dream’s mouth popped open in affront, and then shut. Then he said, “Are you always so familiar and impertinent with strangers?”

“‘Familiar and impertinent,’” echoed the boy, with a laugh. “Sure. Are you always so snooty and aristocratic?”

“Yes,” said Dream, and he laughed louder.

“Honest though.” He stuck his hand out. “I’m Hob.”

Dream nearly said, What kind of name is Hob? but swiftly realized the hypocrisy. Gingerly, he took Hob’s hand. “…Dream.”

“What kind of name is Dream?” said Hob, and Dream sighed. “And you really don’t have to shake my hand like a king deigning to touch the peasants. I’m not diseased.”

“I don’t like to touch people,” Dream said, taking his hand back. “Peasant or otherwise.”

“Peasant or otherwise,” Hob echoed. He didn’t seem offended. He was smiling.

“Are you here because you felt I should be taught a lesson? Is that it?”

“Nah. I just get bored easily.” Hob turned to watch the pigeons again, tapping his fingers restlessly against the bench. “I was out and about. You looked interesting. You wanna go for a walk?”

“…Why?” But Dream knew why. He had learned it as he’d wandered the streets, freed for the first time.

Hob shrugged. “Just to do it.”

Dream had stepped out of his comfort zone once today already. He supposed he could do so again. If Hob turned out to be an adolescent serial killer at least the end of his life would hold intrigue. “Very well.”

Hob grinned, so bright it struck some deep, static bell in Dream’s chest and set it ringing. “Come on.”

[pellaaearien]

Hey so here’s a really mean Sandman thought I had...

I just finished reading The Kindly Ones for the first time. (Yeah.) And I must say, it was a very interesting experience from the perspective of someone who both watched the show first and has also been hanging around deeply into fandom enough that I’ve absorbed spoilers/meta/whatever else surrounding the end of the comics before reading them to draw my own conclusions.

Now I have. And I think I’ve come to some interesting ones.

First off, naturally, Neil Gaiman has written the ultimate tragedy. Everything comes full circle, every decision made with the best possible intentions has the worst possible outcome, and it was always going to be this way. It’s a masterstroke, and as I read I was less sad than admiring at the completeness of it, the way everything slots into place so neatly.

Ever since I spoiled myself for the ending (which I’m glad I did,) I’ve read quite a bit of Kindly Ones meta. Many words have been spilled around the subject of “if someone had just SEEN what was wrong...” but MANY people did! Fiddler’s Green. Matthew. Nuala. And, of course, Hob, who Dream walks out on - again - because he’s being too perceptive. Again.

I was also reading the book with the foreknowledge that this is all an elaborate suicide plot on the part of Dream. After all, as Death says at the end, “the only reason you got yourself into this mess is because this is where you wanted to be.” And, later, when Dream says he has made all the preparations necessary, “You’ve been making them for ages. You just didn’t let yourself know that was what you were doing.” To which Dream replies, “if you say so.”

So we have lots of people saying lots of things about Dream, but what do Dream’s actions say for themselves? Because I must admit, reading the book knowing how it was going to end threw a lot of those assumptions into a new light.

Let’s go back to the conversation with Death. Dream says: “I did not plan this, my sister. I had imagined that I would be able to keep events here in check. I intended to play a waiting game, in which, ultimately, no harm was done.”

This I believe. One of the things that never sat right with me was Dream sitting back and letting his creations suffer, if his intention all along was to destroy himself. I don’t believe that’s in character for Dream in any incarnation.

What was Dream’s motivation? Dream is tired. He says so himself. He’s been tired for a long time, probably even before his imprisonment and having to basically remake the Dreaming and since then he hasn’t had a moment’s peace, what with Season of Mists and Orpheus and everything else. I think meeting Daniel planted the seed in his mind, that there was an out. As Death says, “...the stuff you do. Where you do it, and you won’t even admit to yourself it’s what you’re doing.” 

Meeting Daniel was that moment for Dream. Someone who could take over his responsibilities in the Dreaming. He can’t just walk away, like Destruction and Lucifer. That’s not who he is. I think Dream’s plan was to wait for Daniel to grow up some, and then... something. ??? profit. Maybe he would’ve gone to the Fates himself and taken their punishment for Orpheus. (Because he does, as Nuala astutely points out, want to be punished for Orpheus).

BUT, Daniel gets stolen while he’s still a baby. So Dream sends Matthew and the newly-remade Corinthian after him. Lyta, meanwhile, instigates the Furies, so now they’re on a ticking clock.

(I don’t, personally, think that Dream freed Loki with the intention of setting all this in motion, but that’s up to reader interpretation.)

Dream makes preparations. It certainly seems like he’s making peace with the fact of his death. He visits Nada (a small boy in Hong Kong), does a census of the Dreaming, acknowledges his servants, feeds pigeons, examines his properties in the waking world, and reviews various treaties and agreements to which the Dreaming is subject. He is responsible. He’s getting his affairs in order in case things don’t fall the way he expects them to.

When his Griffin is killed, Dream tells Furies: “I can create another, who would not even know that it had ever died.” Cold, perhaps, but very in keeping with the type of backwards kindness we’ve seen from Dream throughout the series. He also says: “This is my world, ladies. I control it, I am responsible for it. You with neither destroy it nor will you destroy me.”

The last part, as we know, is simply true. The Dreaming can be restored endlessly, and even if the facet known as Morpheus is destroyed, Dream will continue. But it’s the first part that’s significant. I control it, I am responsible for it. That part says to me that he would not allow his creations to suffer. He is responsible for them. And yes, he could restore them with a thought, but why bother? If he’s trying to get himself killed, why doesn’t the story just end here and now? With the Furies and Dream alone in his throne room?

Clearly, he’s waiting for Daniel. He can’t allow himself to be removed without a successor in place. Once the Furies leave, he immediately calls Matthew for an update. Matthew comments on how cold Dream sounds - he’s feeling the pressure.

Fiddler’s Green is killed. Does Dream say “I can create another?” No. He immediately goes in search of Lyta, to hopefully negate the wrath of the Furies. A stopgap, as the Furies would find another avatar in time, but Dream is taking action. He is not passively letting his doom collapse around his ears.

He’s foiled by Thessaly (all my homies hate Thessaly). While they are estranged exes, Thessaly admits that protecting Lyta from Dream was “not entirely” to hurt him: she struck a deal with the Three for a bit more life. Hurting Dream was an added bonus. She knows Dream well enough that he won’t break the rules in order to kill Lyta.

Dream is visibly upset by this. He won’t break the rules, but Thessaly’s actions (and his own, by extension) mean that more destruction will be wrought in the Dreaming. Lucien takes him to task for it:

Lucien asks why he isn’t restoring the things the Furies destroyed, but it makes sense to halt the source of the destruction first, rather than needing to fix things over and over again. Dream is at a loss. His plan was foiled and now he has no way to hold off the Furies. And Daniel is still missing. He could summon his sister right now (as he says, “by his own hand or another’s”) but that would leave the Dreaming in disarray, and he won’t do that.

Now to add Nuala’s summons into the mix. While Death will later point out that yes, Dream could have rejected the summons, I think it’s important to remember that he does actually try, at first:

“I must most earnestly beseech you...” That is begging. That is literal begging from Dream of the Endless, and it doesn’t stop there.  “You do me a disservice, Nuala,” Dream says, after Nuala quotes his promise back to him. He tries to get out of it! But Nuala won’t let him, throws his words in his face, and thereby seals his fate. Because Dream of the Endless, if nothing else, keeps his word, follows the rules. As he says later: “If we did otherwise, we would not be ourselves.” 

He can’t just leave his realm like Destruction. He can’t ignore the rules and kill Lyta anyway. He can’t go back on his word and reject Nuala’s summons. If he did that, he would no longer be Dream.

So, he sets Daniel up in his new role as best as he can with the time he has left, and then he takes his sister’s hand to prevent any further damage to the Dreaming. Death accuses him of planning the whole thing, and perhaps that’s true. Perhaps he saw where the pieces were laid on the board and manipulated them to his advantage. I certainly don’t deny that ever since Orpheus he had intended to take himself out of the picture, one way or another. But I truly don’t think he meant for it to happen like this. I don’t see him as a cold-hearted chessmaster, forcing himself into a corner until he has no way out, with his creations’ existences hanging in the balance. I think he had a plan, and tried to stick to the plan as best he could, as the true tragedy spun into place around him: it was always going to happen like this.

Are y’all ready for the mean thought?

Because thinking about it this way, if truly all he wanted was a way out, he could have expedited the process at any point. As I hope I have shown here, to the contrary, his behaviour reads to me as someone who held out until the absolute bitter end, until he literally had no other choice. What are we to make of this? On the one hand, we have Death’s accusation about  “...the stuff you do. Where you do it, and you won’t even admit to yourself it’s what you’re doing.” Maybe that’s true. Death knows Dream, and knows what she’s talking about.

On the other hand, we have a scene, way back at the beginning, with Hob. (Hob who, incidentally, doesn’t seem all that surprised to see Dream outside the confines of their century meetings, given that he thought their toast during Season of Mists was a dream, but I digress.) (Dream also goes to see Hob the instant there’s any inkling of trouble, again, as he does in Season of Mists, but I digress a second time.) And Hob is, as in 1889, too perceptive by half. As Dream is walking away, Hob says:

“You take care of yourself.”

What if Dream went to Hob, knowing his friend, being perceptive, would guess that something was up?

What if he just wanted to be reminded that someone cared whether or not something happened to him?

He gave Hob a promise that he would take care of himself. And so he did, in the face of overwhelming odds. (Odds that he may or may not have set in motion himself, true, but that just makes it more extraordinary.) Until he couldn’t any more. Until taking care of the Dreaming took precedence over taking care of the aspect, Morpheus.

Because Dream of the Endless always keeps his word.

[morganas-pendragons]

how long | the master chief

people have been digging up my master chief fanfiction with the release of halo season 2. so. here's a new one shot ft my favorite shot of the show! Spoilers for episode 1!

this will be multiple parts as we span throughout season 2. this is loosely associated with you're losing me by Taylor Swift!

A couple of tags for people who've come my way recently wanting Chief fic... @silverpelt3600 @embarrassedauthornerd (who is still getting a Game!John fic at some point) and I know there were more but I literally can't remember :(

***

Being a part of Silver is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. It’s a team. A unit. You aren’t forced to rely on old instincts of survival on your own when you have Master Chief Petty Officer Sierra 117 covering your back.

John. Your John.

My beloved.

He hadn’t been the same since Cortana was removed from his head. You knew why. It was like losing a crucial part of himself, and no one still knew where she was. You both felt her loss so acutely.

You still sometimes turned to call out, “Little love?” In the darkness of your quarters, and waited for “Soles..” to echo back at you. The nickname she’d given you herself.

She’s not dead, but she might as well be.

You had initially suspected that Parangonsky had something to do with it. The woman was as conniving as Halsey, choosing to own the facade of the imperfect military leader with a world of decisions on her shoulders to bear. Her own cross. Just like Halsey.

No one bothered asking though, so neither did you. You and Kai continued to work as The Master Chief's shadows as the months passed. Mission after mission became civilian evacuation after evacuation. ONI was not letting you into combat.

May have something to do with the fact that the entirety of Silver has taken out their inhibitor pellets.

You repositioned yourself between Kai and Vannak as the three of you peered out over the cliff face you were occupying on Sanctuary. "Babysitting duty," Vannak muttered. "Aren't we better than this?"

You snorted and flexed your finger against the trigger of your assault rifle. "We're here to keep an eye on Chief. And this complaint is coming from the guy who indulges in documentaries for fun," You mutter, to which Kai also breaks out into laughter. "And feeds his pigeons."

"I'll have you know-"

Kai nudged your shoulder as John and Riz approached the group of civilians where Captain Shepherd was currently trying to coax their leader, a native priestess, into evacuating. "Shut up and pay attention you two," She teased. "Looks like Captain Shepherd is trying to work on his negotiation skills."

The UNSC had sent the five of you to Sanctuary to evacuate before the Covenant arrived to glass it. That had been happening to a lot of colonies recently.

More often than not, you found yourself huddled next to John in his cot on the nights that the dead just would not stop screaming. It was easier to deal with when you were The Lone Headhunter. When you had your pellet.

When you were more machine.

"This would be so much easier if Cortana was around." You whisper to yourself, thankful that neither of them pay attention to your statement. The AI had become a welcome friend and presence in your life since you'd found yourself becoming closer to The Master Chief. Since you'd found yourself loving him. Loving John.

John hadn't been John in... six months. And you missed him.

They never did say loving from afar was easy.

By the time you were properly paying attention again, John was communicating his position through TEAMCOM as he took off toward the upward cliff face that would lead to where Bravo Team was at. A nagging feeling gnawed at your stomach as you stood to your feet.

"Where is he going?"

"To retrieve Bravo," Vannak replied as he pressed his hand against the side of his helmet. "Comm signal is static. Can't get a clear answer. Seems like there's some type of interference from the relay."

You were already on your way towards John’s location being displayed in your HUD. There was no way you were going to let him do something like that on his own. Especially with his emotions being at such a heightened state since Cortana’s removal, you didn’t quite trust him to make a logical decision right now.

You stopped at the base of the cliff. The fog above loomed above menacingly, like a bad omen waiting to make itself known. You still couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in your stomach.

“Silver One, this is Silver Five. Come in.”

Static.

Cursing under your breath, you steadied your feet and activated the grapple shot recently installed to your Mjolnir. The tech’s had done it per The Chief’s request. Something about needing his most lethal and stealthy team member to be able to utilize that skill to the best of their ability.

Quick, quiet.

The grapple shot up into the fog and took you along with it.

***

How long has it been?

You ask yourself this question every night you sneak into his bunk while Silver sleeps on either side of you. John sleeps at the far end, prone with his arms at his sides, hazel eyes cast toward the ceiling. This is your curse. You cannot sleep without hearing the screams of those you know who have died.

Those you failed to save.

How long has it been since I've seen John? The real John?

You wordlessly settle at his side when his arm comes up to allow you to tuck yourself into him. Despite being only a few inches apart in height, you automatically feel safer with your cheek pressed against his chest and the bulk of his muscle sheltering you from any outside threat.

It's the whisper of your name that catches you off guard. "Soles.." John's voice cracks in the darkness as you lift your head high enough to meet the gaze that stares back at you. Despite how much he's changed since losing Cortana, you can still see remnants of the very broken man he has been trying so hard to hide. "When does it end?"

"When does what end, John?"

"The war."

You know very well he isn't talking about the Human-Covenant War. He's talking about the internal war that Spartans face when they're able to feel too much. The conflict of being made to be more machine then man. More soldier. Being forced to execute orders despite knowing they're morally wrong.

"I don't know.. but I don't think it ever will."

How long has it been, since the two of you had been able to just enjoy each other? To be at peace?

***

Too long.

You were barely able to get your footing before a hand was wrenching you into the dark. Your visor tipped upward to meet the glowing gold of The Master Chief's before you, just barely concealing the lone marine who stood petrified behind him.

"You shouldn't have come, Silver Five."

You shrug noncommittally. "I don't care, Chief. Sitrep." You remarked sharply as the two of you moved to pull the girl between you. It was the only way she'd be protected without any kind of armor to shield her from the threat in the fog.

"Something's in the fog. The Covenant were here before we were-"

It's only then that you see the Elites lingering in the shadows. Decades of instincts and training immediately kick into gear as you remove your weapon from your belt - a newly obtained energy sword, courtesy of the last high ranking Elite who'd tried to rush you - and activated the blade before charging at your nearest opponent.

Blood spattered against your armor while John continued to cover you from behind. They yell at you. Mock you. Call you Demon. You know enough to understand that singular word in their mother tongue.

You cut them down anyway. You are Sierra-343. You are built for this.

But ONI is determined to keep you from it.

***

The glassing beam is terrifying. You haven't quite been afraid for your life in a long, long time... but the stinging heat that comes from it sears the back of your armor as you sprint across the field to the Condors.

The Priestess was not about to let The Master Chief leave the planet without prophesying over him.

"Find your faith, Spartan. I have seen your death." Her eyes slowly shift to your fingers wrapped around The Master Chief's wrist, desperately urging him forward to the Condors where Kai and Vannak were waiting for you. "You are not long for this world. It comes soon. "

How long?

You're running against the clock as the three of you sprint into the Condor just in time for it to take off. Breathless, you cast aside your helmet to stare at the amber hue of fire as Sanctuary is overcome by the glassing beam from the Covenant Carrier.

***

Ackerson spent the first several days of his time in ONI working on you. As his Lone Headhunter, he saw you as an asset to utilize with a skill that far outweighed Silver Team combined.

"Do you think that at his core.. The Master Chief is broken?"

Unarmored and dressed in your civilian clothing, you stared out at the open expanse of Reach City right beyond the window.

“I think that The Chief is a human being who had undergone a significant amount of trauma in a very short amount of time. I think ONI overlooks that because the only use he has to them is to be the hero you need on the front lines of a war we’re not going to win,” You replied coldly, turning around to face Colonel Ackerson with your hands neatly folded behind you. “Do you have any other questions that pertain to my role in Silver Team or my history as a Headhunter, sir?”

“I am not your enemy here. You know that. You’ve undergone some of the most extensive types of torture under covenant hands from your time on The Exalted.” You froze at the remark, disdain and anger flashing across your gaze as you met his eyes. “You are remarkable. Resilient. I want that for the future of what we have here. I do not wish for such contempt to come between us.”

“Then I would prefer you keep my past and my trauma out of conversation.” You motion towards the door to ONI’s main office. “Am I free to go?”

Ackerson flashed a tight-lipped smile. He knew you would be the most difficult to crack on Silver Team. Kai had said as much. Given your involvement with the Spartan Two program and how quickly you'd taken to working with a team, he'd anticipated you would be loyal to them.

He hadn't anticipated the extent of how loyal you'd be to The Master Chief though. There must've been something there. Something else the others didn't know about.

"Yes, you are. Thank you for speaking with me."

You bit the inside of your cheek so hard that you tasted blood as you and John locked eyes passing one another in the main doorway of the ONI office.

He'll have questions for you later.

***

Kai caught John's gaze wandering to you as you and Riz continued working on your hand-to-hand on the gym floor. There was just something so graceful about the way you moved, and the way you looked...

"Hey, Chief," Kai's voice broke through his reverie as John turned away from you to gaze at the monitors near the lockers. "Come take a look at this."

You narrowly avoided an uppercut to the jaw as you attempted to tune into Keyes speech where he was awarding Talia Perez a Colonial Cross. You knew the truth though. A truth that Ackerson was not hearing, and a truth that John had attempted to get Ackerson to reveal during their meeting.

He didn't breathe a word. And unfortunately, when he'd intercepted you an hour later, neither did you.

How long since you stopped trusting me, Soles?

"Turn it off." Vannak demanded. "I've heard enough from this guyat debrief."

"What questions did he ask you?"

The main point of conversation between you both again rang in your ears as Riz moved to sweep your legs out from beneath you. Do you think that The Master Chief is, at his core, broken?

Dread bubbled in your stomach. Did he know?

Did Ackerson know about you two?

You didn't have enough time to react as Riz swept your legs out from underneath you just as Cobalt Team walked into the room. You didn't bother learning any of their names. You just knew you hated the blonde one the most.

Riz extended a hand to you just as she approached you both. "You see, this is why you don't go taking your pellet out. Makes you emotional." Cold blue eyes regarded you as you both stepped into her space. "Makes you weak."

Your eyes narrowed. "You know, for someone who's barely encountered The Covenant.. Tell me. Who endured torture at the hands of high-ranking Elites aboard a Covenant Cruiser for months before I got myself out?"

"And who's to say you're not a whining Covenant sympathizer now?"

Rage flashed behind your eyes as you lunged and very nearly caught Val, had it not been for John winding his arms through yours to keep you from making a rash decision.

You weren't paying attention to anything else that was said until Cobalt was gone. John bent to whisper in your ear, "Stop trying to get yourself killed, Soles."

You wrenched yourself from his grasp and jabbed your finger into his chest angrily. You weren't mad at him, persay. You were mad at the place that loving him had put you in. That loving him was now a way to be exploited. And you swore you wouldn't be in that position again when Halsey was gone. When you became part of Silver.

"Then stop trying to protect me, Master Chief."

But they had spent years telling you a very simple truth: You were a machine created to serve a singular purpose. Machines were not conditioned to feel.

And they certainly did not love.

***

You didn't come to John's bed that night. You didn't come for quite a while after that, and he then determined that you were the one thing he feared you to be.

A liar.

And he didn't understand why you were hiding it. Why were you hiding what happened on Sanctuary, and why were you avoiding Ackerson? What had he asked you?

Why were you running?

***

He wasn't expecting this. The whole point of coming to this place was to find some semblance of her, something that offered comfort in the way Cortana would have if she were here.

She wasn't dead, but she may as well be.

He swiped his credit chit and sat down with his hands in his lap. "I don't really know what people say to each other. And the one person I want to talk to right now is..." John swallowed the knot in his throat. "Isn't themselves. And I'm-"

"Lost?"

"Yeah. I think there might be something wrong with me. That's why they ran. They figured out there's a part of me that's missing. Sometimes there's a sound like something in my head is there that doesn't belong. And maybe it's part of you that got embedded in me."

"Oh, sweetie... You miss them, don't you?"

John grimaced. He did. He did miss you and Cortana. He'd give anything to go back to that medical table where he'd kissed you the first time.

He was so deeply engrossed in his memory of Sanctuary, of seeing Makee, of hearing her voice, that he didn't even notice you come in. You stood in the doorway with your hood concealing your face and slowly lowered it as John stared up at you in shock.

There wasn't just shock there though. There was... desperation.

How long since you willingly let someone in?

"Soles?"

"John. We need to talk."

part two?

[shinalenecaffeinatedwriter]

GunnTech AU Character's Favorite Animal Headcanon to Little to None Explanation

or it's 2024, my current hyperfixation is @elmushterri 's GunnTech AU and I don't care anymore

Connor: Cats in general (for obvious reasons), but Stray and Feral cats have his whole heart. Almost every time he goes out for a run or whatever he'd bring a backpack with cat food, treats, maybe even cheap water bowls and leave them where he knows there's a ton of strays.

Greg: Geckos, it's Lizards in general but geckos are his obvious Top 1

Amaya: Everyone thinks is Owls (for obvious reasons), they were when she younger, but is currently Moths.

Nori: Crickets since they were young and Maine Coons, he thinks they match his own glamourous style sooo perfectly. They also do the 'leave food for strays' thing with the ninjalinos but incluing dogs, also he swears there's someone else feeding a specific Cat colony and reallyyy wants to meet them. (Of course it's Connor, I'm a sucker for this kind of thing)

Romeo: Ants. His mom definitely helped him do an ant colony in a bottle or a jar and he still has It, upgraded of course, but he keept the original jar.

Luna: Ferrets. Tiny, but mighty. When she was younger it was Moths and Owls.

Cartoka: Rabbits. Will correct anyone who calls them Roddents, they're Lagomorphoes.

Carly: Turtles. Everybody thinks she and Greg bonded at some point because they think their favorites are very similar, but they actually have regular arguments about the topic because Carly thinks 'Amphibians are superior' and has gotten on Greg's nerves once or twice.

Isabella "Octobella": Absolutely loved Octopous prior to GunnTech, because of its intellegence; then in GunnTech she got bullied for that, got the nickname then the transformation happened and started to dispite them (and herself). Later in life she started to redirect that anger towards GunnTech and work on her self-steem, but currently if you ask her she'll respond Shrimps. A Ninjalino asked her and agreed with the Shrimp answer saying they were cool, so she's a little more confident about that liking.

Dylan: He reallyyy wants to say Triceratops, but thinks is too childish so he says Rhinos

An Yu Guō: It's a tie between Iguanas and Dragonflies

Badriya "Bastet": She really thinks any type of feline would be unoriginal, so she goes with Bettles. Except if it's Connor asking, then it's Cheetahs

Rhiannon "Ripp": Wolfs. When she was younger she adored the whole 'Wolfs are solitary, cool and edgy' type of media; but now she's more leaned towards the 'being a pack' idea.

Hywel "Howler": Deers, oddly enough.

Kevin: Pigeons. He really resonates the whole 'all the Pigeons in the US are the decendants of old Messenger Pigeons and were abandon after they were no longer of use and became feral' thing, so he has a lot of respect for them and feeds them seeds, not bread.

Ivan: Polar Bears. He knows it's basic but doesn't care.

Newton: Fireflies.

Lily "Lilyfay": Buterflies and Sea Angels, just because Newton show her a picture and she thought it was super cool and pretty.

Daisy (Ninjalino): Hamsters

Eloide Mecano (Romeo's mom): Frogs and Toads. Not in a 'I want to dissect them' way, in a 'I have large specialized terrariums for each species that I have' and 'I love their skin's texture' kind of way.

Maria Martinez (Connor's mom): Fancy Cat Breeds like Ragdolls, Persians, Bengalis, etc. but NOT Maine coons because She thinks they're 'too much like dogs', she also goes to Cat Shows but doesn't participate. As well as thinking Strays are dirty and dangerous, so Connor has to hides the 'feeding strays and feral' thing (Shut up, I like RomComs)

Kimiko Kobayashi (Amaya's Aunt): Poodles. She grew up with standard poodles, currently has toy poodles and She reallyyy wants to have a Royal-Size at some point. Plus, She participates in Dog Shows; if it's one of 'the Big ones' there's usually a Cat Shows happening in the same place so I imagine Maria and her having coffee together and talking trash about EVERYONE

Grayson Gunn (Greg's Uncle): Gigant Scolopendra

Phinneas Gunn: He denied this multiple times trough his life for various reason, but Koalas

[vashtijoy]

fic excerpt: goro and his mother

I keep needing to refer to this one, so here it is. WARNINGS for childhood abuse (poor, poor Mamakechi is not at her best here).

* * *

The summer Goro turns six, his mother packs their few things into plastic laundry bags, and she ties up their futon and quilt with string, and the two of them leave their single room in Shinjuku for a single room some way to the east, in a place called Yoshiwara. Asakusa and the huge red lantern of Senso-ji Temple are nearby to the south, but Goro and his mother don’t live anywhere so rarefied.

The other rooms in the house hold students, casual workers, foreigners. Goro peeps out of their door to talk to them all. Some ignore him, and he ignores them in return. Others are nice—the older boy who lends him manga, the girl who gives him sweets and ties ribbons in his hair, the foreigners whose words he only sometimes understands. And then there’s the old lady who lives on the top floor by herself.

Her name is Migata-san. She has her own kitchen and her own bathroom, when the rest of them have to share, just like in Goro’s old home. She wears a puffy, quilted vest all the time, and sits in front of her TV. Goro doesn’t have a TV any more; in the winter his mother took it away and it never came back. And since the landlord—who is strident and impatient and everything Migata-san is not—shouts at him when he sees him, Goro often finds himself creeping straight upstairs to Migata-san’s tiny apartment.

His mother leaves him there every afternoon anyway. He reads anything he can find, or takes his borrowed manga, or he sits in front of the TV, and Migata-san feeds him riceballs and cake. The TV rotates through daytime dramas, talk shows, adverts and news, but when something good comes on, Migata-san will let him watch it. Fly, Feather Swan! No, Grey Pigeon, I won’t forgive you!

“I could do that,” he tells Migata-san, watching the Feathermen fly about against a painted-looking stormy sky, and she laughs at Goro while he scowls.

“Oh, no,” she tells him, in the stupid grown-up voice. “Those things only happen on television. How about some milk?”

He accepts the milk, still sulking. But he doesn’t drop the idea.

* * *

When his mother finally comes home in the evenings, she’s tired and seems sick; things aren’t like they used to be. Instead of talking to him while she makes soup and rice over a tiny electric ring, she brings frozen boxes from the konbini and puts them in the microwave. They eat side by side in silence, sitting on the rolled futon.

Goro eats his frozen curry steadily, glancing sideways to his mother. She’s picking at her food like she doesn’t want it. “Why are you sad?” he dares to ask, afraid of upsetting her.

His mother doesn’t look at him. “I’m not sad, Goro-chan. Eat your food.”

He looks back to his bowl. The curry is bright orange. He picks some into his mouth: little red chopsticks, with the rubber grip holding them together. It tastes of a lot, but he doesn’t complain, not when she’s sad.

Are we going home soon? He can’t ask her that, either. He tries to think of something to tell her, making his slow way through his curry. Nothing that will make her lonely. Nothing that will make her cry. Nothing that will make her—

“I’m going to be a superhero,” he says brightly.

She glances to him. She looks right into his eyes and she smiles. “Is that what you’ve been doing today?”

“Mm-hm,” he tells her, riveted to that tiny, flickering smile. “Then you won’t have to work all the time, right? I’ll do everything. I’ll look after you and I’ll fight evil”—sharp eyes staring from a soapbox, a face he used to point out on the TV before the TV vanished, a name he still remembers with a child’s fascination—“and I’ll keep you safe for always, and I’ll always win!”

He runs out of breath and laughs, caught up in the brilliant future he’s painting for her, that he more than half believes in. He only remembers the point of it all when she laughs too, leaning back against the wall. “My little hero,” she tells him. And, still as if she’s terribly tired, she reaches for Goro’s blanket—a new, soft, blue blanket, small enough for him to wear around his shoulders, one of the new things that has made its way into their room.

She removes the brooch pinned at her collar, a glittering snowflake left from their old life, and she pins the blanket around his neck, folding the excess down into a collar. One thin hand gentles his hair aside, strokes his face; he presses against her like a kitten, and she lifts his bowl from his suddenly precarious lap.

Goro feels her happiness like his own. “There,” she says, glowing. “Now you have a cape.”

He beams at her. “Is it a bird cape? I want to be a bird superhero. Like Feather Hawk.”

“Ah, that depends,” his mother says, taking his chopsticks and propelling some curry into his mouth. “Can you fly?”

Goro opens his mouth to reply, and she closes it with her free hand; that’s another thing that’s new. He chews dutifully and swallows. “Of course I can fly,” he dictates. “All the Feathermen can fly.”

“Are you sure?” she asks him. “Maybe you aren’t as good as Feather Hawk, hm?” And then she pops another scoop of curry into his mouth, so he can’t even protest, other than through closed lips; she laughs and kisses him on top of his head.

“I am as good as Feather Hawk,” he informs her when he can talk. “I’m better.”

“Of course you are,” she tells him, with another kiss, feeding him the last of his curry. Her own bowl lies half-full beside her. “You’re my little boy. And you’re going to save the world.”

* * *

After that, Goro plays hero a lot. He wraps himself in his blanket cape and shouts Feather Wing Star Formation!, until the landlord knocks on the door. His mother sleeps all morning, while Goro reads the manga she brings him herself now, and she vanishes to work in the afternoon, when Goro goes upstairs to Migata-san; upstairs to wonder where his mother is, why he can’t stay alone in their room when she works any more, like he always did.

One morning, while his mother is dead asleep, Goro finishes his manga and looks around for something else to read, eventually pulling his mother’s glossy magazine from the table. He isn’t supposed to read it, for reasons that to him seem wholly arbitrary, so he’s careful to leaf through the pages as quietly as he can.

The magazine is creased and old-looking like his manga, and full of tiny text, much of which Goro cannot understand. So he guesses the words he doesn’t know: stories about fashion models and clothes and makeup and dragons, although something tells him he’s read “dragons” wrong. The whole thing smells like his mother. At least—it smells like his mother used to smell, like her perfume. These days she just smells of soap and sweat.

She doesn’t send Goro out by himself at night any more, either. That’s probably good, he thinks uncertainly; it was scary to run down the back alleys by himself, scarier to hide behind the bins so the police wouldn’t see him. But he misses the bathhouse. He misses Boss, who'd let Goro sit up front as his assistant, who’d set out piles of coins for him to count and watched him in the bath.

Looking down unhappily, he spies a piece of paper poking out from under the unrolled futon.

Part-curious, and very bored, he gives it a tug. It moves. Another, more careful tug, and the paper is in his hand. It’s a letter in his mother’s writing. A date, on the left—he knows from Migata-san’s TV that it’s yesterday’s—and a name, lots of big kanji, he can’t begin to make them out. But he sees his mother’s name right next to it, Akechi Mari, half of his own name right next to her loopy kana. At the top, there’s something about frost, and then the writing gets much worse—fortunately most of it is still kana.

The letter talks to somebody called Masa-sama. She talks about their room, he thinks, and about her job; she makes them sound bad. We have no money, he reads, over and over. Goro is a beautiful boy. He’s obedient and clever. Any man would be proud to call him his son. He reaches out, with one tentative hand, to touch those words.

The letter has been crumpled into a ball, and then unfolded; he tries to flatten it, with careful strokes of his baby hands. He reads it again, and again, and again. Any man would be proud to call him his son.

He has no idea his mother is awake. Not until a hard hand grabs his shoulder and shakes him, tearing the letter from him. “Give me that!” his mother yells as she hits him, right around his head, hard against his ear with the flat of her hand. Goro screams and falls to the floor, clutching the side of his head, and as he dissolves into tears and confusion he sees his mother crying too, tearing the letter like a typhoon, smaller and smaller and smaller pieces that she throws and screams at and hurls into the bin.

* * *

Before long, Migata-san comes downstairs, and she knocks on the door, and without a word she takes Goro upstairs, still sobbing, while his mother sobs in a heap on their floor. He sits on his usual cushion, still hiccuping sobs, as Migata-san clucks to him and washes his face and hands.

“There we are,” she says, beady eyes like a bird. “How about some hot milk? And a cake?” Goro nods his head yes, not meeting her eye.

He’s clever. You’d be proud of him. Was that letter to his father?

Your father is a monster! he remembers her shouting, back at the old room when he was small. She had hit him then, too.

Why is his mother writing to a monster? When even talking about him makes her so upset she cries and she hits Goro? They must be in terrible trouble. Is that why she’s asking Goro’s father for money?

… has his father got money?

Goro doesn’t realise that he and his mother are poor. But he knows they aren’t rich, that his mother works every day, works so hard she sleeps all the time and has no time for him. He adds it to his picture of his father: a monster, a rich man. A man who’s somewhere else when he should be with Goro and his mother. A man his mother calls Masa-sama, like he’s a king.

And that evening, when he’s finally home, when his mother is in the toilet and not coming out, he sneaks the fragments of paper with his father’s name out of the bin.

[lilys0evil0twin]

I've been thinking fr an idea (take ur time no need to be real quick♥️) , mmh did u already do Nikola Tesla , Sfw or nsfw hcs ? Have an incredible day/night and take care of urself

Okay, okaaayyyyy, I see where ya coming from~~~

Let's go ya transformers looking workaholic

SFW

He nor you know how ya ended up in this relationship, not that you're complaining, it's just... He never thought of love life much less his own

Nikola is a kind man, tho he may act a little narcissistic, but he'd sacrifice his whole research for you.....

Ok maybe not whole but some projects for sure

He'd love to give you his outmost attention but it clashes with his work/hobby (or let's call it life), tho he's more than happy to include you in his activities

He really likes it when you help, just your presence is enough, plus hugging you really helps him figure out the parts he's stuck on

Just staring at the giant board covered in multiple physical theories and math problems while holding your oh so delicate body in his arms

Nikola knows multiple languages and will use them against you, he can express his love for you in all of them, all monologues ofc

He isn't one for using nicknames, however you are allowed to use some on him, he's opened to everything really from "babygirl" to "thunderbolt", but if you want him on his knees for you call him "Sir" or your "handsome husband"

He will melt, trust me he will, the first time he heard you call him Sir Tesla, he fell on his knees and hands mumbling something under his breath in Siberian, but judging by his tomato red neck and ears you assumed it was something positive

Nikola showers you in gifts, just because, he wants to give you gifts

And not just any gifts, he'll work on those gifts with everything he got, once he gave you a robotic dove after he saw you feeding a flock of pigeons

He also gives you metallic flowers, because 1. they'll stay pretty for a lot longer than real ones, and 2. no real flower is beautiful enough to be considered a gift for you

Tho if you tell him you want a real one, he'll apologize and will take to fields covered in forest flowers for picnic

Despite being a lil shy, Tesla isn't afraid to voice his desires at all, doesn't care if anyone can or can not hear him, he'll loudly and pridefully announce he wants to love you at the given moment

Or will offer his body to you at the dinner table with your parents.....

NSFW

Well sometimes he doesn't mean it literally, he's just straightfoward when it comes to stating facts

Tesla surprisingly knows how to Dan's pretty well and if you want to he'll put on your favorite song and dance the night away with you

Nikola has a great memory, he remembers everything, every date every friend of yours, every information you or someone else shared

And once again, he will use it against you

Tesla has some problems with workaholism so when you see he's pulling more hours/days than he should just drag him to bed and massage his back, he will groan

Nikola isn't really sexual, he's more lovey-dovey, hence the hugging and stealing kisses

Despite being so energetic and confident, Tesla tends to be more composed in bed

He'll follow your every wish and command, let's call him a gentle dom

Anything you may do in bed could inspire him, once he came up with a whole ass equation... And yes he needed to write it down before it slipped his mind

Tesla has a mathematical map of your body and remembers every spot that make you whimper

The exact place, how should he press/stimulate them, possibly the precise angle and force

Despite not being really erotic, Nikola has some interesting kinks

Yes

Fucking in the bed is taboo, however in his research lab? On the table? In his chair? Excusing yourselves from the event for a quicky in the hallway?

Being totally bare during sex is overated, but fully clothed? Exposing just the crucial parts?

Yes

Dry humping? Fingering? Eating out?? Bros a whole package

X-Ray👀

Nikola doesn't have a favorite position nor speed, but he mostly settles on slower sensual pace and he likes to stand but don't worry you don't have to he'll hold you up

Usually goes for multiple rounds when there's enough free time or if he's not tired from work

Long, long and thick

Perfectly waxed, there's not a single hair down there, only hair closest to his "lil" man is that line of light brown hair down his belly

The skin is as smooth as it can get

The tip is #F1B6AC

I like to think Tesla has circumcision🤔

Has a beauty mark near the base

Somewhere near his balls there's this small ring of muscle that creates a bulge there, like there a literal ring

The veins are big and bulging

Balls are average sized, smooth and solf on touch

[aemondsprincesss]

alright ,,, so i have some ideas for your aemond/dragon hybrid idea 🖤

1 ) upon finding her and calming her down, maybe this bonds him to her in the same way that a rider might claim his own dragon and bond with them, because she immediately trusts that he wouldn’t hurt her. with this, when he takes her back to the keep, she might be very jumpy and scared due to new surroundings, so she has her hand clasped in his? like nails digging into his arm type shit, and it makes him feel good to know he’s there to protect her from this strange world.

2 ) because she’s so violent, she also gets this way toward aemond from time to time when she gets confused or frustrated, but she makes a conscious effort not to hurt him. in her eyes, this is her master and the man who saved her from predators, so he’s really the only one capable of calming her down. to calm her down, he usually sings to her in high valyrian and softly strokes the magnificent dragon scales riddling her body.

3 ) this one is kind of nsfw, and feel free to ignore this one completely, but aemond teaches her about sex, because she’s curious. she hears aegon and all of his whores down the hall, she eavesdrops on the women at court talking about pleasuring their husbands, so she wants to do the same for aemond. she doesn’t do this with horny bitch intentions, she doesn’t really understand what being horny means. she does this because she thinks it’s what you do when you deeply care for something. She wants to give him pleasure because he keeps her safe, feeds her and adores her, no matter the havoc she brings. I think it would be so neat to read about aemond’s response to this and their first time together 🖤

Sweetheart, this thoughts took my breath away (I was literally holding my breath when I finished reading!) 🥰

So (1) Your bond is indeed similar to the one of a rider and their dragon, but since you are not fully a dragon, things develope a little different. As seen in the "chapter" were you know Vhagar, we can see that first your loyalty belongs to her. She is your kin, you identify her as such more than you identify Aemond. You recognize that she is stronger than you, that she is above you, and that you owe her respect. So when she forbids you from hurting Aemond, this peaks your interest. When she allows and encourages you to approach him, the bond is formed. But it is when you see her obeying his commands that you really see him as someone you should listen to. If your matriarch does what he says, doing what he says is the right thing to do. It’s what you should do. So you do it most of the time.

The point I disagree with is that you were not scared when he first brought you in the Red Keep. A lot of the walk was in the secret passages (because of course Aemond knows about them), and you only walk a few hallways outside of them (because Aemond barricaded the entrance to his room in a way that he can get out, but no one can get in). The entire way you are more curious than anything else. Aemond is the one that needs to hold you to him so you don’t wander off. Once outside of the secret passages, you are even more fascinated, making Aemond have to lift your hood a couple of times because you are really interested on the ceiling. You guide yourself from Aemond’s reactions, so when he does not react to the standing still guards, you just see them as a part of the decoration.

This is not to say that you are not jumpy. You are. With loud noises and sudden moves. As long as everything is calm, you are just a puppy seeing the world for the first time.

2) That’s right. You do have moments of violence and frustration towards Aemond. Specially when he abruptly forbids you from doing things. Like when you tried to burn the pigeon that landed on the window of his chambers, and he panicked because the shelf with his precious books were right beside it, so he shouted a “Daor!” and grabbed your arm. You yanked yourself free from his hold and slightly crouched in a attack position, hissing at him. A warning. He immediately stands down and begins to coo at you. Calming you down by distracting you with his new sapphire ring, that now belongs to you. As an additional “I’m sorry” gift, he orders a big pigeon pie for dinner.

You also get frustrated when he insists on things. Like, no, you don’t want to repeat his silly words now. You want to go outside. See Vhagar. Run on the beach and find more of those pretty, colorful shells. Aemond tries to softly coax you to pay attention, but you just growl and throw everything, that he assorted over the table for you to identify, on the floor and storm away from him. Aemond sighs. Guess lesson time is over.

I see the singing and caressing more for when you are both in bed ready to sleep. In the nights you are restless, he hums his favorite lullaby from when he was child. With your head on his chest, he holds you and traces the patterns of the scales on your shoulder, hip, and when you have a leg over him, he traces the light ones on your thigh. Aemond loves the feel of them under his fingertips.

Also, you don’t see Aemond as a master or someone who saved you. You are not yet fully aware that dangers exist. How could you? As soon as you opened your eyes for the first time, you had the largest dragon in the world and a prince dotting on you. First you see him as an equal. This help you to respect him and his physical integrity. Second you see him as a kind of example. You trust him. You recognize your lack of experience and seek him for answers. You are not submissive to him. You don’t obey his every command because you consider him above you. You just believe he knows best most of the time.

3) I was being really subtle on this until now, but I think it is time to address the horny side of this concept. Here we go! First of all, nothing happens in months. At least half a year. Does this mean that in all this time there was no incidents? No. But Aemond is a man of honor. A decent person. And he can control his carnal urges. Does this mean he can stop himself from getting hard everytime he has to touch you more intimately. No! The poor young man is the one who helps you dress and undress. He is the one who helps you bathe. You sleep every night in his arms and is there pressed against him when he wakes up with morning wood. So we can imagine how hard it is for him.

It is worse when you are the one touching him in inappropriate ways, simply because you don’t know what propriety is. For you, his cock is just another part of his body. You have no problem touching it, rubbing against it and when it gets hard, you don’t even notice. This helps him control himself. Your innocence. Aemond could never live with himself if he ever took advantage of someone as pure as you. So he endures it. Considers it a small price to pay to have you by his side. When the aching is too much, he slips out of bed, after you fall sleep or before you wake up, and goes to a secluded part of his chambers to relieve himself quietly. It takes him no time to reach completion.

As for your sexual awakening, I see it in a more instinctive and selfish way. It will happen naturally. As some kind of puberty.

By this point you will be understanding most of what is spoken to you in high valyrian, and communicating fairly well. With misplacement and mispronunciation of some words? Sure. But who cares? You look cute doing it.

Months after your “birth”, Aemond will notice strange behaviors. Like you scenting him out of nowhere. You just hug him and press your nose to his neck. The warm breath bringing goosebumps to his skin and tightness to his pants. This seems to make you inhale harder.

He also noticed that you were becoming more clingy. Wanting his attention on you at all times. Like when you were visiting Helaena and her children in her chambers, something you love to do (if Aegon is present, he disappears as soon as you two arrive), but instead of playing with the kids on the floor while paying attention to Helaena’s endearing (and sometimes prophetic) ramblings, you will sit by his side, rest your cheek on his shoulder and play with his fingers.

You also developed a liking for biting him. Little nips of affection on his jaw, neck, shoulders. What is easiest at the moment, specially when you are sleepy in bed. Is a sweet torture for Aemond.

Speaking of beds, the first time you touch each other with the intention of giving pleasure, you two are on his bed (you in your silky, emerald green nightdress (Alicent’s gift) and Aemond in lose black pants) play fighting. You pretending you can’t just overpower Aemond (at this point you realized how much stronger you are, and that you must be gentle with him), just for the next moment pounce over him, beaming and breathless. The bed is a mess, Aemond’s hair is a mess, and he is laughing like a little boy. This until he realizes the movements of your hips against his thigh. Hi gasps and instinctively grab your hips with both hands, stoping you.

Aemond asks what you are doing through a stutter. You shrug your shoulders and explains that you got an itch between your thighs and that it feels good when move like that.

Aemond goes dizzy. His whole body flushes with need. The semi he was ignoring twitches in painful pleasure, and he was at a loss for words.

Seeing this reaction, you questioned him, who could only stammer beginings of phrases, trying to get up from under you. Like the teasing, curious puppy you never stopped being, you resumed your previous movements, not allowing him to move. Without understanding the gravity of your actions. Aemond pleads for you to stop. Seeing his distress, you stopped and got off of him. You are clever enough to see that he is hiding something, so you demand an explanation.

Seeing that there was no way around it, Aemond gives you the talk.

While he explained what was happening to your body and why, you asked if he felt it too, giving him no choice but to explains his desires too. And in your mind everything became simple. You should scratch each other itches.

Composing himself to not just follow his basic instincts, that were screaming at him to just seize the opportunity he have been dreaming with for months, Aemond explained again, this time more philosophically than physically, the meaning of the intimate act.

Aemond’s first time was horrible. On the wrong time, wrong place and with the wrong person. He would never want that for you.

When he finished his explanation, you were still waiting for the part were he would explain why you two should not do it.

See, Aemond forgets you were not raised with the rules of society molding your beliefs and tying your actions. Everything is easy. You want him, he wants you, sex. And who is Aemond to argue against this logic?

So, basically, you do it with horny bitch intentions.

The thing about being grateful for his adoration even with you wreaking havoc from time to time... you believe you are entitled to it. And the worse part is that Aemond agrees with you.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Tag list:

@dragonride-rs @dothrckis @risaru @omgsuperstarg @bbyaemond @witch-of-letters @chevelledahuman @xcharlottemikaelsonx @oo0lady-mad0oo @zafirina12 @lazypinkpig @theunyieldingsword @pinkyfingy @fallingleaves678 @hi-im-fan-trash @omega-horus @uselessbutinteresting @alysinwonderland-at-tea @ihatepeez @rntrsna @mouseymagines @t4medicroe

[pengychan]

[Good Omens] Flies

Ineffable Bureaucracy Week Day 2: Flies ***

“Can I ask a question?”

“You just did.”

“Well, can I ask another?”

“You just-- heh. Fine, fine. Ask away.”

“Why Lord of the Flies, of all things?”

“Well, I designed them.”

“Ah.”

“You sound surprised. Were you expecting a more sordid tale?”

Leaning back on the wooden bench, idly watching the swarm of flies feeding on the remains of what had been a fish before the small stream dried out in the heat of summer, Gabriel shrugged. “It never occurred to me that someone had the task of creating these… smaller… life forms, at some point.”

A huff, the sting of an elbow against his side. Not a lot of sting, to be honest. Beelzebub could certainly do worse, which meant they were holding back. The thought made Gabriel smile just a touch. 

“They took as much work as bigger ones, you know. There are hundreds of thousands species still in existence, and there used to be more. And besides, I didn’t just work on life forms. I made my fair share of star systems, I’ll have you know, while you were starting out your career as a messenger pigeon.”

The smile turned into a frown. “Delivering messages was vital in order to ensure all of us were working according to the same--”

“Lord of the Pigeons. Has a nice ring to it.”

“No one ever called me pigeon, thank you so very much,” Gabriel informed them. “Although some did refer to me as the Peacock of the Angels…”

“Let me guess. You took it as a compliment?”

Gabriel blinked. “Wasn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of it.”

“Humans like peacocks, don’t they?”

“Symbol of vanity. It does fit you. How did you even live with yourself in the millennia before tailored suits and silk ties were a thing?” Beelzebub asked, and Gabriel was almost annoyed. Except that they causally leaned the side of their head against his shoulder, and he promptly forgot how to be annoyed.

“Well-- I believe we’re getting sidetracked here. You haven’t told me why it’s Lord of the Flies. I mean, you surely made more impressive things you could make your title about, no?”

A soft scoff. “Absolutely not. Flies are my masterpiece.”

“... Because they fly where they’re not wanted, make noise, and are annoying?”

“I’m sorry, when did this conversation turn to angels?” Beelzebub asked, looking up, and Gabriel laughed, placing a hand over… the approximate location where a heart would be, if he had human internal organs. 

“Oh, ouch. A low blow, that.”

“Thanks. I’ve been practicing.”

They both turned their gaze back to the small swarm of flies; Gabriel would have been perfectly content to let the matter drop and focus on nothing but the unnatural warmth against the shoulder Beelzebub was leaning on. Except that he didn’t.

“So, what is it about them?”

“About what?”

“Flies. What makes them so perfect?”

“Aside from being emblematic of putrefaction, death, and decay?”

“Well, yes. Aside from that.”

Still leaning on his shoulder, Beelzebub held out a hand, and a few of the flies separated themselves from the swarm, coming to buzz around their hand, landing on their fingers. 

“First of all, they can outmaneuver any angel or demon. See how they fly, hover, land upside down? I made them some balancing organs to function like gyroscopes. They are the greatest aerial acrobats of all Creation. And this is just one of the families - the parasitic ones are a marvel of their own. There is this genus that lays eggs in ants, and once the larvae is big enough, it decapitates the ant to keep growing--”

They talked, on and on, and Gabriel was all too happy to listen. It had been a very, very long time since he himself had felt anything much about the wonders of Creation; it had sort of grown old, like gorgeous scenery you pass by every day to work and back until it’s really nothing more than a backdrop. He’d even forgotten which parts of it he’d had a hand in making himself. How ironic, he thought, that the Grand Duke of Hell never forgot what they made.

All things bright and beautiful, as a famous hymn went, and they’d all been so very proud of it all, once. All things wise and wonderful.

Nothing had really seemed bright and beautiful in a very long time. Nothing had seemed all that wise, and nothing had seemed all that wonderful.

Until now.

Beelzebub got so animated when talking, and Gabriel found himself marveling at each minute facial expression they made while describing a type of fly that looked like a spider and lived in the fur of bats to feed on their blood. Probably not something that fit most of the known universe’s definition of bright, beautiful or wise, he thought.

But most of the known universe never got to sit under the scorching August sun with Beelzebub’s head against a shoulder, listening as they talked about their most complex and beloved creations, watching said creations dance around their fingers.

No one else but him, and Archangel Gabriel-- I am Gabriel, who stands in the presence of God --had never felt luckier in his entire existence.

[swanimagines]

Please can I ask for some headcanons about dating Rupert Travis (Detroit: Become Human)? Thank you!

A/N: Anonn you're an angellll for requesting my boi Rupert 😭 I have missed him so much❤️

Also I'm sorry this is so long overdue, I've been wanting to publish this for a long time but there's been a lot of drama over the years... but I need comfort from my favourite android babe during these trying times 💕

Also @majestickitty, I think you'll like this 😏 (Also sorry for not being able to help you a while ago with finding all the Rupert fics that are still up, I wish he had gotten more stuff/his tag would still be somewhat active/that so many of those few people who wrote for him in 2018 hadn't deactivated and taken all those fics with them, and the fact that so many nowadays just makes ChatGPT generate fics and publishes them as their own... doesn't really encourage me to check any of the x reader tags anymore to be honest)

Note: This is for human!reader because the request didn't ask for android!reader and my default reader is a human unless the fandom has no humans at all.

So, you first met Rupert when he came to your pet shop and you caught him pocketing a bag of bird food.

You immediately ran over and grabbed his wrist, which made him pry his hand away from you and try to make a run for it, but you managed to push him back, his cap slipping off in the process.

You almost dialed 911, as he was scrambling for his cap and then… you saw it.

A LED blinking red on the side of his head. You immediately froze, not knowing what to do.

“You’re… an android?” you asked, which made Rupert frown and look up. 

You weren’t afraid, you were actually putting your phone away.

You crouched down, looking at the now banged up bag of bird food, and lifted it, some seeds falling out.“What do you need bird food for?”

He didn’t answer, he just eyed you and you got up, shutting the blinds and locking the door. “Probably better to ensure nobody else sees you. The way things are right now, you’re at risk.”

His LED kept blinking between yellow and red as he sat there on the ground, clearly expecting you to do something to him, but instead, you made your way to the storage room and returned with a new bag of seeds. “How much do you need?”

His LED only blinked as yellow now - you took it as a sign that he was confused.

No wonder he is, you thought. Most of us would kill him on sight.

When he still didn’t answer, you went back to the storage room and soon you were at the counter with a backpack and stuffed as many bags of seeds as you could there.

“Let’s agree that once you guys get the freedom you deserve, you’ll pay me back, alright? And you can always come back if you need more seeds, too.”

You handed him the bag and opened the door for him. He hesitated for a second, but then nodded at you and took eye contact for a moment, before he put on the cap again and left your shop.

You looked at him walking down the street for a moment, before you closed the door and vacuumed your floor from the spilled seeds.

A few days later, you meet him again at a park.

You see him sitting on a bench, throwing seeds to pigeons flocking in front of him, and you approach him slowly.

He looks up at you briefly, then lowers his eyes to the pigeons again.

You shift your weight from side to side for a moment, before you quietly ask, “Can I sit?”

He doesn’t move for a moment, his hand freezes at your question too.

Then, he nods slowly.

You sit down before you risk a glance at him.

You notice he no longer has a LED, probably realising it’s too risky for him. His eyes are shadowed by his cap, but you know he’s watching you in a way too.

You swallow. “All of us aren’t bad, you know. But I understand you may feel that way.”

He lets out a breath, before he nods. And then, he finally speaks. “I’m sorry for trying to steal from your shop.”

You smile a little. “It’s okay.”

And that established a small, but surprisingly quickly budding, friendship between you.

You helped him with feeding birds by providing him seeds, and in return he helped you around in your shop sometimes.

Not with customers present of course, but he was there in the morning before you opened and after closing, cleaning up and sorting your ordered packages of supplies.

He seemed to find joy from getting something to do and to feel being appreciated, especially when it involved animals. Even though your shop didn’t have animals on sale.

And after the revolution/the peaceful demonstration and Rupert being able to live more freely, you were able to officially hire him and he would have had the right to rent his own apartment…

But instead, he wanted to stay with you.

You see, your friendship had grown into something more, but only after now, Rupert was brave enough to confess his feelings for you.

And that’s when your love story began.

He likes to lay on your lap as you sit on the couch watching TV or laying in bed, just feel you running your hands through his hair.

No human, nor other android, had ever shown any affection to him, and it was partly surprising really how much of a cuddlebug he was when he got to taste it.

You also teach him to cook because he had watched some romantic movie while home alone and told you he may want to surprise you with dinner sometime, because the movie had such a scene.

It… didn’t go well. At first.

WB200’s weren’t meant to be cooks, so it wasn’t among his natural skills.

But him being an android was a helping factor in it, because he learned pretty quickly as he was able to memorise every single line from the cookbook from only one read.

His reservations towards humans is a long-term issue despite loving you.

Fortunately your friends are understanding of it, chipping off his nervousness bit by bit.

And eventually, he grows to trust humans a little bit more.

The hardcore anti-android people left Detroit anyway, so there wasn’t that much danger outside anyway. At least not more than for humans anyway.

And one day, after about a year from the demonstration and President Warren declaring androids are free, you come home to see Rupert wearing his LED again.

You smile at the sight of it, and all the memories flashed by you — him trying to steal from your shop had resulted into the love of your life.

And now, you could finally show your love as a human and an android.

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[whatiswritteninthestars]

TWD: Daryl Dixon “Paris sera toujours Paris” Review

☕️Beware of Spoilers☕️

Last week we finally learned how Laurent was brought into the world and we now reach the third leg of the journey for Daryl Dixon and the location this time is Paris. Before Isabelle and Daryl reach the city they come across the town of Angers to one of Isabelle’s allies who has a radio, or so she leads Daryl to believe. Sylvie and Laurent stay behind armed and ready. I’m not sure if this was the brightest move on their part leaving them out in the open but Daryl and Isabelle venture into the theater to her contact and he’s one strange musician.

Of course, we reach the never-ending saga of French radios that do not work, which is becoming way too predictable at this point. Daryl remains more than irritated that the radio has been used for nothing more than to feed this man’s musical obsession. Instead of trying to help, the man leads them to his stage of zombies in an orchestra. The bodyless head playing the strings was a nice touch but this was undoubtedly one of the strangest scenes in The Walking Dead and one giant waste of time as the crazed man was no help at all. And just as predicted the kids got in over their heads with walkers coming their way. Daryl must save the day and he has had enough of Isabelle’s leadership. It’s time to do things his way now. Though I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing given his track record so far in France.

Soon the group reaches Paris and it’s a homecoming for Isabelle. From afar Laurent admires the Eiffel Tower for the first time, much like Daryl did upon his arrival. But Paris brings back a lot of memories Isabelle would rather not relive. It’s the very reason why she spent the last decade avoiding it.

As they march on Isabelle shows Laurent some of her mother’s old stomping grounds. It’s not quite clear if Laurent knows Isabelle is his aunt. She has been lying about so much already so that wouldn’t be surprising. She then tells Daryl about the “pourvoir” movement. During the outbreak in desperate times, people think to order..”Yeah or God.” Daryl remarks back. That line makes it evident that Daryl doesn’t believe in either side of the fight in France. It makes it really hard to fight for something you don’t believe in.

The group stumbles upon the grave of American Rock star Jim Morrison after Laurent tells another story that nobody asked for about the fortitude of a weary woodsman. How death came for him and he had a change of heart. It is nice to know Laurent has so much “useful information” but I’m not sure that it adds any value to the story. Laurent assures Daryl that he will not face the same Morrison fate and die in France. Unclear if he thinks he’s a psychic or trying to ease Daryl’s fear but I think we all know Daryl Dixon is untouchable and not going to perish anytime soon.

Another ally comes along just in time, Fallou. He has heard the story of Laurent but not seen it with his own eyes and he is mesmerized by the child as are all his people. They’d been waiting a long time to meet the miracle boy. It is a small community of 64 members and Sylvie quickly catches the eyes of a young man.

And on come the homing pigeons. They are used for messaging because they always find their way back home. Daryl thinks this idea is crazy and to get a message to America, it would just take too long. What came next was the most interesting part of the show. Carol is alluded to throughout this episode but this was the moment that screamed her name. While the trainer is holding one of the pigeons to be released he looks at the small creature and says “Maybe he has a girlfriend..we all have a person who waits for us somewhere.” And as Daryl listens he drops his head in both sadness and guilt. He’s dying to get to a radio to send word back and the further they keep going the more walls he is running into. I do however think the girlfriend line is very interesting. They didn’t have to throw that line in if they were trying to stick to the platonic soulmate trope.

Another fun fact is when pigeons mate they mate for life. Which is how Norman Reedus always saw the character of Daryl. No matter where they go they can always find their way back home to their mate.

At this point, Daryl is over the games. These people are no use to him if they aren’t living up to their end of the deal. Daryl knows that Fallou can get them to The Nest the rest of the way and if there is no radio then she can’t help him. Fallou lets him know there are people in Paris that trade for all kinds of things but he will need currency. He’s ready to steal so he can make a trade to get back home but Isabelle said she will get what he needs. After all, it is the least she could do after the amount of times Daryl has saved them.

Now here lies two major problems in this spinoff:

1. The lying to Laurent, these are supposed to be people of God and Laurent's life is nothing but one big lie. I felt for the kid last week in “Aloutte” when he told children all the lies he’d been told about his past. They only knew him for 5 seconds and knew it was fabricated. They are putting a lot of hope and pressure on Laurent when he doesn’t even know he’s the face of humanity in France. Daryl thinks they should be honest with him. Laurent has strong empathic abilities to read people but I don’t think he’s a miracle child by any means. Everyone is given a gift.

2. Isabelle believes Daryl was sent to her by God to deliver Laurent to revive humanity. However, she seems pretty capable of handling bad people on her own. She’s been out there a long time growing the Union of Hope. The “killer nuns” know how to defend themselves so I don’t see why they needed to use Daryl as a man who can escort them. It seems very outdated. On the other hand, Isabelle does a horrendous job at fighting walkers even if she can kill humans like it’s nobody’s business. At this stage of the game she should be experienced in that area.

Codron is still after Daryl and he’s not going to rest until revenge is served. He comes to Genet with information and Genet hires him to find the American. Strange experiments are going on with walkers/burners and I get the vibe these are not being done to free the world of tyranny. I believe there is a dark purpose behind it all. If you look back on the burner walkers that is not something that just naturally happens.

Now we have reached the infamous Demimonde underground nightclub club which Quinn of all people owns. There are acrobats, a drag queen, and performers of all kinds. A lounge-type singer named Anna has a miraculous voice and seems to be somewhat of an item to Quinn.

Eventually, they get to Isabelle’s to gather some things to trade. There is a line from Isabelle that just clarifies how much Isabelle doesn’t know Daryl..” you seem like someone who’s always thinking” She is glad the two of them crossed paths she tells him but he refuses to share the same sentiment. He isn’t happy to be there but in the same turn, he doesn’t hate her for it. She’s not the reason he ended up here. He must play nice for now to garner a ticket back home.

Isabelle is admiring some artwork on the wall. A piece by Monet called “The Water Lilies.” She tells Daryl she used to go visit the museum every weekend and admire it. It was like a port in the storm for her. “It kind of reminds me of home,” Daryl replied to her. Upon those words, Isabelle looks like him with a hint of remorse for even pointing it out to him. There’s a tinge of jealousy every time Daryl talks about going home. But there are two very interesting things regarding this scene that are written subtly in the script. “A port in the storm.” We know that Daryl and Carol are each other’s safe harbor. Carol has always anchored Daryl. “The Water Lilies” also reflects home making him think back to Carol and the Cherokee roses by the water. She is his home and just as Isabelle walks away to speak to Quinn Daryl takes one last look back at the painting missing the happiness he was so close to having.

Quinn lets Daryl know it’s not impossible to get to America. He’s heard things and they travel to his office to talk about it in a deeper capacity. He offers champagne to which they decline. Quinn starts to lay into Isabelle that she should have told him about Lily and the baby. Isabelle is not sure why she would because he didn’t even want to help Lily back in the day. Then it is revealed that Quinn is the father of Laurent leaving Isabelle in an alarmingly shocked state. It was Quinn who saved Isabelle’s life before when she tried to take it and Quinn never lets her forget it. Daryl doesn’t like the way this is heading and tells her he doesn’t need a boat from them this badly. He can find another way. She is irritated with Daryl at this point because she’d come all this way to help him to help him keep his promise. “That’s all you care about isn’t it?” She asks him and Daryl doesn’t deny it. Well of course not his plans are not going to be changed over a group of strangers he just met. Isabelle’s constant annoyance with Daryl wanting to get back to his family and fulfill a promise is very peculiar. What else would she expect? “Oh since you said so I must be a messenger of god and I’ll stay with you forever and do everything you ask?” Come on now.

On a side note I don’t think it’s a huge deal Daryl was not prepared to have Isabelle go through pain to get a boat. Daryl has always been a good judge of character. There’s nothing shippy about him not wanting to be a jerk to get what he wants. Isabelle doesn’t exactly exude the same energy though.

Just as Daryl is about to leave for the second time this episode he tells Isabelle she should stop lying to Laurent. Quinn being his father will just be added to the mountain of lies. I love seeing the old Daryl shine in this episode especially when he tells her Laurent deserves to know who he is. Maybe that’s something she needs to believe, that he’s a gift from God. He can still be a miracle and not be the messiah he tells hers just as hell broke loose. Laurent overhears them and gets furious with them both while Codron has tracked him down regardless of the deal Genet and Quinn had to steer clear of each other's territory. Daryl goes on the run and it becomes another glorious beta vs. Daryl battle before he falls through the floor in a cliffhanger. My favorite part of this scene was Daryl dropping his knife that resembles Carol’s. The camera really panned in on it which purposeful symbolism.

My takeaways:

Too much inconsistency with Daryl. He’s a hero one minute then seems incompetent on his own at other times. The amount of times he says “I’m better off on my own” and it’s proven otherwise is countless.

Isabelle is often the same, she comes across as a strong and capable woman but then acts as if she needs a man to get her from point A to point B. I don’t think she needs Daryl at all so it does beg the question as to why is she trying to hold onto him and control him? However, I do understand the script had to be written a certain way to prolong Daryl’s stay in France to give Carol time to arrive. It would be devastating if he left when Carol arrived.

There is no chemistry between Isabelle and Daryl. I know that’s what some of you are worried about. With any Daryl/Norman Reedus ship they are going to try and point fans in that direction for drama and attention but I just don’t see it. Especially not with Carol returning. This is not Daryl’s happy ending…a happy ending is not something that you have to be forced or guilted into. A happy ending is not an obligation because you get stuck in a place you don’t belong. I think deep down it feels good for Daryl to help people but he wants to carry on paying it forward. He’s not looking for a place to hang up his hat just yet. Though we all do wish he would hang up that scarf.

We have not seen the last of Quinn. He still has feelings for Isabelle. Isabelle has shut that part of herself off. But I do think it’s a little hypocritical of her to judge Quinn’s lifestyle when she used to be the same. She was the one who wanted to give Daryl the benefit of the doubt and compassion even if he didn’t believe in God. It is pretty clear she’s a master manipulator and does exactly what she needs to get her way. Whether that is towards Daryl to get him to babysit them all across France or to her ex, Quinn to get what’s needed to secure a boat. For me, it all looks like a game to Isabelle. I’m not sure how much she wants to get a boat for Daryl but as a Christian, it is her duty to be a woman of her word.

Now call me crazy but I thought Nuns were supposed to be as honest as possible. Isabelle lies to Daryl from the start to manipulate him into helping them get to The Nest(and you will see how in a later episode.)She has not only lied to Laurent about who he is and where he came from but also created stories about a pseudo-father. Laurent doesn’t know she’s his aunt or that he is going to revive all of the humanity of France. All she tells him is that he’s special. Meanwhile, everyone they cross looks at Laurent like the angels are singing when he walks.

Fallou did say the radio hasn’t worked in a long time. That had to be information Isabelle was privy to. Much like how she led Daryl on at the Abbey about their radio only to tell him it doesn’t work. I don’t think Isabelle is a villain but she does too many selfish acts for me to like her. It doesn’t matter if she’s a nun now it’s like this selfish manipulative side was something engrained in her from before that’s never gone away, not even with the cloth.

The best takeaway from this episode is Daryl’s heart and his willingness to get word back home. He can only imagine what is going through Carol’s mind right now. Daryl always checks in with her and he does seem frantic about getting to a radio. Every hurdle he jumps over to get radio access comes to a screeching halt so now his best bet is to find a boat to travel back home. From there he can radio out to her.

“SAY HER NAME”

The Carol writing is all over the wall but it’s not definitive enough for my liking. Anybody who knows how to follow a narrative is going to know the safe harbor, home, the promise, and sadness that washes over him is because of Carol. And just as The Walking Dead usually does with the most popular ship of the show they don’t make it obvious enough. There is always that wiggle room. I do understand the poeticness of it but we need both Carol and Daryl to lay their hearts on the line once and for all. But I do however love all the symbolism. Famous french paintings that remind him of Carol, the pigeons, the girlfriend call back, and the knife.

I hope you enjoyed the Caryl hints in this episode. I know I did. There’s a scene coming up in Episode 4 that will completely warm your heart and I believe is another nod to Caryl and their future! Feel free to ask me questions to dive in deeper. Xoxo

[britany1997]

What pets the Lost Boys would have

(Not my gifs)

David:

• A cat. Definitely

• David is already basically a cat

• He doesn’t like people, he DOES like eating, he’s grumpy when he wakes up, he’s low key mean and standoffish but if he likes someone he REALLY likes them

• A lot of people headcanon he calls his S/Os “kitten”

• A cat is perfect for him:)

• He gets a black cat for the aesthetic™️

• He would be chill with any kind of cat tho low key

• His cat isn’t super clingy or jumpy which he appreciates

• But sometimes, while the boys are gone, they take naps together:)

• He sits in his wheelchair, his cat jumps on his lap and they both fall asleep

• If anyone brings it up/catches him he denies it vehemently

• He’s got a reputation to protect

• But that cat has his whole heart

Dwayne:

•Dwayne just gives me dog person vibes

• He’d have a big dog like a Saint Bernard or a Doberman or something

• He’s already the dad daddy of the group so you know he takes care of his dog

• Takes it on walks, feeds it all natural food without added preservatives, gets steals it super expensive dog toys etcetera etcetera…

•Dwayne finds a dog park that’s open late and he brings it and Laddie

• Sometimes Star comes too:)

• He likes to play frisbee with his dog on the beach

• He has a bunch of pictures of his dog: at the cave, in cute little doggie clothes, of the both of them, one where Dwayne just put it on his skateboard and snapped a pic he has that one framed but don’t tell anyone he gets embarrassed

• Dwayne is intimidating but he’s a softy at heart. He loves his dog like his son🥺 (second son cause Laddie)

Paul:

• Ok so EVERYONE always says that Paul is a golden retriever and I completely agree

• And don’t get me wrong this man wants a dog SO BAD

• But the boys don’t trust him with the responsibility of owning a dog rightly so

• He gets distracted sometimes:(

• But he really REALLY wants a pet like everyone else

• They get him a goldfish:)

• David feeds it and complains

• Paul loves it

• Sometimes when they wake up at night, he’s talking to the goldfish

• They’re besties:)

• His fish dies every 6 or so months but Dwayne always replaces it before Paul sees

• He’s had “the same goldfish” for 10 years now

• Dwayne is worried Paul will notice

• He won’t:)

Marko:

• Marko has a bunch of pigeons as pets canonically.

• Obviously he has names for all of them and he low key gets mad when the boys can’t remember their names

• In addition to the pigeons, I think he would also have a parrot

• Marko would adore a parrot’s brightly colored feathers, they match his vibe

• He would also enjoy a pet that talks

• He teaches it cuss words >:)

• This REALLY pisses Dwayne off because this is how Laddie learns most profanities (oops)

• So he teaches the parrot curses in Italian >:)

• He also uses the parrot to freak Paul out

• He trains it to hide in small dark corners of the cave and call Paul’s name.

• Paul thinks the cave is haunted

• Marko thinks it’s hilarious

All in all, the boys love their pets:)

[ikemenomegas]

jjk actor au...

Going a little feral over an actor au where no one is dying XD.

You and Gojo and Shoko and Getou all pulling up in the van at award shows, taking turns helping one another out and casually squad posing until everyone's ready to walk together. People are always looking for whose hands touch whose first. There's also lots of shorts of the four of you strutting and arranging yourselves for the arrival shots.

Either Gojo or Getou always try to be near you during red carpets and other events. There's so many compilation videos trying to figure out which one you're with. There's a few very well done much viewed compilations of you just craning your neck to and finding Shoko when she gets stolen away to actually do some interviews.

The compilation videos of you all lounging around and joking during special interviews, which is a huge contrast to the serious roles you played in in the movie/drama you were all in together, get circulated around quite frequently. There's cute things like "every time y/n dropped something during the vanity fair interview" and in the comments is a counter for who picked up after you the most.

There's plenty of videos like "every time Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru make Eyes at each other during press tour" and "getou suguru and y/n being couple goals for two minutes and 28 seconds". There's also less click bate-y titles that somehow have more content like "gojo satoru and y/n answer fan questions" but it's gojo looking at and talking to you until you forget about the interviewer just about every question when he turns the question onto you. The fans get no information but you can feel yourself sweating by the end.

There's compilations of get_twosg and gogosatory's instagram stories where people look for crumbs on you and shoko, who almost never post anything on your own feeds unless your managers force you. The only exception is when the two menaces aren't with you and then it's occasional food stories and shoko talking about wine or whiskey and you looking distracted until you realize shoko is taking video of you. There's also compilation videos of Gojo and Getou together in your and Shoko's infrequent reels.

After the movie/drama press tours are over, people look for crumbs when you do things in pairs or trios. There's a really famous drama where Shoko plays a super irritated investigator and you're a vigilante leaving her clues. You end up in a movie with Nanami once and there's a clip where interviewer asks you both if you're going to see Gojo's new film and Nanami gets relentlessly teased for his reaction.

Getou plays the second male lead turned victorious partner to you in a period drama and there are soooo many videos of you playing with his hair - which he grew out even longer than usual specifically for the shoot.

Gojo and Shoko end up in a super-hero type film together at some point, and there's tons of videos about them having the same wicked kind of humor, which people don't expect for some reason.

You and Gojo end up as the romantic leads in a very slice-of life type romantic drama about an athlete slowly losing his eyesight and having to change careers. This one is famous because there's those one of those non-explicit love making kdrama/cdrama scenes in it where gojo's line is something like "I need to see you, at least once. Show me?" and then you kiss him. There's a variety of interview question about that line and the two of you almost always botch it on purpose, because if he's serious about it, it inevitably ends up online at your expense.

After that the two of you got accidentally pigeon holed about two other romantic dramas/movies each and got sick of it lol. You refused to do another romantic type media and insisted on a horror film.

It ended up being a horror-comedy miniseries that did really well as a cult piece. You did that one alone but Haibara and Ijichi were in the film with you, so you did have friends around.

Getou and Shoko's first drama together is actually a romcom too, but this one is about them being a married couple who are together for the convenience trying to find a way out of their in-law's meddling. It's super cute and is praised as showing nontraditional family structures in a positive and realistic light. You have a cameo in this series as Getou's adopted sibling which leads to a brief period of very odd fanfiction...

[triptychofvoids]

Do you have any HS about Medics birds?

of course i do :]€

i just have to get this out of the way first. unfortunately some people see pigeons and doves as completely seperate birds, but this isnt true. pigeons are doves. anyway. headcanons now

we all know medic got his doves from stealing a van at a wedding. commonly the type of bird used for release at weddings, funurals, whatever, are rock doves or homing pigeons that are bred to be a smaller size and all white, meaning medics birds are all most likely pigeons of this kind :]

i think that a good handful of his doves would be bonded pairs, but not all of them! since he sort of lets them have free roam some of them turn up randomly with some other pigeon they found in the area and then sometimes he gets some new little birds that are not all white so i headcanon that even though his original flock is all white, hed get some more interesting color and pattern variations from time to time.

speaking of bonded pairs, archimedes is bonded to medic. thats HIS person. of course all the doves consider him to be part of the flock and they all like him and vice versa but archimedes specifically is HIS bird. archimedes will get jealous and throw a little bird tantrum if hes giving the others too much attention. if you ever need to figure out which one of the many birds is archimedes then its a pretty safe bet to assume that whichever bird is currently perched on him or always seems to be hovering around somewhere following him is archimedes. oh and he loves to get into trouble and dive headfirst into anything gorey so you could probably tell that way too ^^;

medic does have names for all the birds. he can always identify archimedes of course and then theres a handful of others he can pick out pretty easily, especially if theyre in a pair or have unique colors or some other defining feature about them, but even though he does name all of them and recignize most of them, he would be lying to you if he said he always knows which is which out of every single one of them at all times.

i mentioned in a previous post that engie would make an industrial grade air purifier for the lab and the workshop and the operating room in order to stay on top of all the dust. pigeons are very dusty.

with a couple of exceptions, a lot of the birds would stay outside most of the time, and theyve got nests all over base. maybe thered also be an aviary or something on the roof for them to stay in if they want, thats where medic would probably put most of their food anyway. archimedes would get his own personal cage in medics room even though hes got free roam as well. and much to the annoyance of some of the other mercs, medic insists on letting the whole flock inside during cold winter months or during the heat of summer.

he really does his best to take care of them all if he can. like i said, they would all have free roam, and a vast majority of them would just live outside around base, but he feeds all of them, he names all of them, he keeps track of where each and every nest around base is. theres not much he can do if some of them get swiped up by wild animals or whatever else but if theyre injured he'll patch them up. the only one he rarely ever has to worry about is archimedes, because that little guy is basically glued to him 90% of the time anyway