#supernatural is an infinite repeating loop | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gimmethatagustd · 2 years

Text

repeat offense | ksj

The are only two constants in life: the promise of death and the infuriating existence of the man who ruined your life. Will your immortal punishments keep you in an infinite loop, or will you one day be able to rid the world of the evil that is Kim Seokjin?

» pairing: demon!seokjin x demon!reader (ft. angel!yoongi)

» wc/date: 3.6k | november 2022

» notes: PLS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD READ THE WARNINGS 💀 i hope y'all enjoy whatever the fuck this turned out to be lol. also rip to me posting this depressing ass fic on my fucking birthday. sorry to jin for my first fic of him being sad

» masterlist

» what was jai listening to? mind games - sickick

If it weren’t for your sixth sense, you would have never seen him coming.

It wasn’t some cliche tingling that set off the alarm bells ringing in your ear; it was more of an increasing hum of energy vibrating through your body, like a bullet ricocheting inside your bones. But sensing him was only half the battle. Now you had to figure out who he was. And it was always changing.

You brought your glass of bourbon to your lips and took a small sip, the ice clinking together.

“Another?” The bartender with smiling eyes dried off his hands with the small towel he kept tucked into his apron pocket. He jutted his chin at your now-finished drink.

“I’d like to close my tab, please.”

Initially, your suspicions made you hone in on the bartender, but you quickly ruled him out after he returned your credit card and receipt. In blue ink was his name and phone number scribbled on the back of the paper.

You pocketed it, just in case.

You had to admit, the body you were currently possessing was hot. It was a shame whoever originally owned it wasn’t able to take advantage of it now. Perhaps you would show the bartender everything this body was capable of later. But right now you were looking for someone else.

Departing the bar counter, you made your way toward the back of the dimly-lit bar, as though you were heading to the restroom. At a fork in the hallway, you turned left instead of right, slipping through a service door. You stepped out into the dark alley behind the building, rain-soaked gravel and cigarette butts crunching beneath your boots.

The heat from the bar continued to warm your back and you didn’t hear the door click shut behind you. Before you had the chance to turn around, a slender hand wrapped around your bicep and yanked you backward.

Even though the demon had a different body than the last time you’d seen him, you immediately recognized him for who he really was. That was the other power of your sixth sense; coming into contact with another demon would cause both of your eyes to momentarily bleed into all-black orbs before returning to normal once again.

“Kim Seokjin,” you sneered a greeting at the man and pressed against his throat the small dagger you kept hidden in your boot. “So this is the body you picked?”

In any other circumstances, you would have found him gorgeous. His dark hair was swept to the side to reveal a strong forehead and serious eyes. His lips naturally fell into a plump pout, though his mouth was now twisted into a smirk.

But you weren’t interested in entertaining a whistleblower, no matter how attractive.

“Are you not impressed?”

When you were forced to possess a body, you didn’t have a say in who you got. You were immediately bound to whichever unfortunate soul happened to cross paths with you first; it was pure luck. Still, you got too much pleasure mocking Seokjin to care about the logistics of it all.

“It’s better than last time. London, was it? It was a shame to see such an old woman’s soul go to waste because of you.” The tip of your dagger created a dent in Seokjin’s skin, but you weren’t applying enough pressure to draw blood.

Yet.

“Go to waste because of you,” Seokjin corrected.

“Oh fuck off. Your sad song has fallen on deaf ears for centuries, Kim. It’s time you give up the act.”

You felt a cool, blunt object press into your rib cage. Looking down, you were met with a handgun.

Once you noticed the firearm, Seokjin leaned into you and caused your dagger to prick a small mark on his skin. A few droplets of blood slid down his throat, but it didn’t deter him from flashing a toothy grin in your face.

“You’re fucking deranged,” you breathed. A gun was smart; why hadn’t you considered buying one the moment you’d spawned in this body? If you were lucky Seokjin would at least kill you quickly.

He wouldn’t, though. You wanted each other to suffer and you both knew it.

“You wish I was deranged.” Seokjin’s sing-songy voice dripped honey as he spoke. “It would mean the Prince of Darkness made a mistake in banishing you to the mortal world. He wouldn’t like to hear that you think he made a mistake, would he?”

The glint in his eye said more than his words did.

“You were the mistake,” you hissed, spitting at Seokjin’s feet. “I should have never trusted you.”

“I should have never loved you.”

He let out a growl and jabbed you in the ribs. The clash of metal against bone made you step backward and Seokjin was relieved from the point of your dagger. The tip was coated in a thin sheen of blood.

Once upon a time, neither of you could bleed - back when your bodies were your own and the two of you sat on either side of the throne of Satan, the Prince of Darkness as you once fondly called him, as his most trusted advisors. Some days, in the summer months or whenever you lived in warm climates, you could remember the lick of eternal flames at your ankles as you roamed the castle you’d once called your home.

The Prince was more so about aesthetics than about burning people alive, though you had just barely missed that fate yourself.

You often wondered if being consumed by those flames would’ve been better than the torture you were bound to for eternity, or until the Prince of Darkness decided to destroy Earth completely.

“If I remember correctly, you were the one begging me to help you find a way to Heaven,” Seokjin pushed forward. Now he had the gun pressed into your chest in full view of anyone who might step into the alleyway. It didn’t matter if anyone saw the two of you. Mortals couldn’t do anything worse to you than you could do to each other or yourselves.

“And you agreed to help, didn’t you?”

Right now you were out of options. A dagger would never win against a gun, and running would only get you so far.

“That would mean you were the mistake.” Seokjin must have seen the calculated look on your face because his sickeningly sweet smile grew as he backed you up against the building. “Trying to find a way out, love?”

Seokjin ran the gun along your chest and up your neck, eventually stopping at your face. You took a shaky breath as you felt the cold metal of the muzzle graze your cheek, not realizing Seokjin was using the barrel to brush the hair from your face.

“What’s the point in killing me, Seokjin? We waste our time chasing each other across the globe and for what reason? The result is always the same: we die, we respawn, we continue the cycle.”

At one point, you’d believed there could be an end. That one day, death would be permanent; that one day, one of you would win. Perhaps you pathetically underestimated the Prince of Darkness’s cruelty towards traitors. He’d made it impossible for you and Seokjin to do anything but live a thousand lives and die a thousand deaths.

What made it worse was knowing none of it would have ever happened if Seokjin hadn’t turned you in. The fact that he did so, knowing he too would be punished… It certainly spoke to the contempt he had for you.

Seokjin leaned into you so close your knees bumped into each other. Your eyes flickered black just as his did and you realized with a lump in your throat that you couldn’t remember what the two of you had looked like in your own bodies before the Prince banished you to a mortal existence for your crimes.

You wondered what the price of such a crime looked like in Heaven.

“We must die eventually,” Seokjin whispered. “And I intend to be the reason why you do.”

“Fuck you.”

You jammed your knee as hard as you could in between Seokjin’s legs. He immediately doubled over in pain and you didn’t stop to watch him sink to the ground.

Running away from Seokjin was running away from the inevitable, but you did it anyway. There was nowhere for you to go but away.

Your boots slapped against the wet concrete as you bolted down the alley. The cool autumn air felt damp and thick in your lungs, sitting heavily on your chest. It was a discomfort you never felt before being banished to Earth. Hell was brittle and dry. Earth reminded you more of Heaven.

The only time you’d gone to Heaven, you’d been shocked by the comfort of clouds. You remembered feeling the mist of condensation from the clouds melt the hardness of your skin and allow moisture to seep into the cracks lining your exposed skin.

The force of Seokjin’s body colliding with yours propelled you forward faster than your legs could keep up. You heard your knee crack and the skin busted open, leaking blood over the loose chunk of concrete you’d fallen onto. Your blood turned the muddy puddle swirling in the pothole under your limbs a dirty maroon. The wound in your knee was overpowered by the sting of gravel digging into the butt of your palms and your shoulder as your arms collapsed beneath you.

Almost immediately Seokjin was fisting the back of your shirt, hauling you onto your feet with a hard yank. The fabric pulled too tightly around your throat.

“Tell me, Y/N,” Seokjin hummed, his lips ghosting over your ear before you felt the cool metal of the gun against your temple. “Was your precious Yoongi worth it?”

You waited for the click of the trigger as the sky opened up. The rain came down in blurry sheets that wobbled your vision and made the gun heavy in Seokjin’s hand. You could tell because you felt it slip down your temple, eventually landing on the apple of your cheek.

Loving Yoongi had been worth enduring the most terrible of deaths, even at the hands of Seokjin - a man you’d once considered a dear friend.

Where you’d worn darkness like a silk cloak, Yoongi brought a light so blinding you swore his image was seared into your retinas.

God’s radiance couldn’t have compared.

“He still is.”

The rain washed the blood from the gash in your knee and Seokjin planted a bullet in your brain.

“That’s it, cum for me, angel.”

Real angels didn’t have halos like humans liked to say they did, but Yoongi emanated a glow so brilliant he bathed you in a soft yellow hue as you fell apart on top of him. Swift, gentle fingers massaged your clit and coaxed a third orgasm out of you. His hand was warm as he squeezed your hip, holding you in place while you nearly crumpled inward with the force of his final thrust into you.

Strands of white hair framed his head when he laid back down on the silky sheets. His forehead and cheeks practically glittered with perspiration in the warm glow from the intimacy you’d shared.

There was nothing more beautiful, in this life or any beyond.

Yoongi ran his fingers along your side profile. When they ticked your jawline, you ducked your head to escape the feeling.

“Talk to me, angel.”

Pain twisted in your stomach, but you swallowed it down. If only you were an angel.

“I love you.” You whispered the sweet confession into the crook of Yoongi’s neck. Even though you had defiled his innocence, you felt the purity of his soul radiate from his body. The feeling made you shiver when you curled into his side.

Something dark and thick sat heavy in your chest. You’d felt it the moment you stepped foot in Heaven. It made you want to recoil from the angel, even as you so desperately clung to him.

“I love you, too.” Yoongi intertwined his fingers with yours. He brought your hand to his lips and his touch pierced your skin like a hot iron. “I’d always thought angels weren’t capable of love.” His voice hummed in his throat against your cheek.

You shifted your face to press a kiss against his smooth skin. He made a happy noise and you squeezed your eyes shut when the glow of his skin became too bright to bear.

“Well, love outside of a love for God. Secular love,” he continued. “But I feel it with you. I know that it is love, even though it’s so different. It’s… it’s…” Yoongi cleared his throat when his voice cracked. “It feels special. It feels just for me.”

You felt his lips against your forehead, but you kept your eyes closed, content with watching colors dance along your eyelids.

“You’re changing me,” you whispered against his jaw with your head tilted up.

“Hmm?”

“Inside. It’s lighter.”

Yoongi tightened his grip around your waist.

This was when your memory became blurry. No matter how many restless hours you spent replaying the moment over and over in your head deep into the night, you couldn’t remember how you went from cuddling in your lover's arms to testifying in the High Court. Even the trial was less of a memory and more like slivers of moments that flashed across your mind’s eye.

The heaviness of the chains the Archangels draped over your body as you stood in front of a jury and audience of angel onlookers excited to see a demon in the flesh. A whore of a demon, nonetheless. A whore who had defiled the holiest of spaces and led one of their own into sin.

Seokjin with the same heavenly chains restraining his body, but carrying a look of triumph on his face.

Yoongi with his wings clipped.

An angel could never commit themselves to anything or anyone other than God, and especially not to a lowly, evil, disgusting demon.

You wished your brain would let you forget the broken look of dread on Yoongi’s face as the Archangels dragged you and Seokjin out of the courtroom.

You’d never seen him without his heavenly glow before.

And you'd never see him again, at all.

With a gasp, you flung your head and smacked the back of it into the headrest of the seat you were in. Your fingers squeezed around the car's steering wheel and you jerked on the wheel hard to avoid slamming into the car in front of you. The car you cut off in the next lane laid down on their horn, but you focused your attention on seeing through the watery image of the street you were on.

It was jarring every time you respawned into a new body, no matter how many times it happened before. Getting your bearings was difficult enough in itself. Add operating heavy machinery in a torrential downpour and it was downright dangerous.

A purse sat in the passenger seat. At a stoplight, you frantically sifted through the contents. Lipstick, a pocket mirror, a lone tampon - until your fingers brushed against something cool and glass.

Finding a phone was usually the best first step when respawning. Everyone kept everything on their phones, and with facial recognition, you didn’t even have to guess a passcode anymore. Scrolling through the phone’s contents, you located the maps app and put in the saved location, “Home” - wherever that would take you. All you knew was that you needed to get as far away from Seokjin as possible.

You were tired. Tired of searching, of fighting, even of running, though you knew running was now your only option. What were you supposed to do? Give up? Endure the pain of him killing you over and over again, in hopes that one day it would work?

No fucking way.

You pulled up to a modest suburban house with a white picket fence and evidence of children from the chalk drawings that covered the sidewalk and driveway. An unwelcomed thought tugged at you as you climbed the stairs to the front door, housekeys shaking in your hand.

In another life, this is what you and Yoongi could have had.

“Oh, honey. You’re home early?” A man’s voice called out from the living room. He poked his head into the hallway to see you standing in the entranceway. Your clothes clung to you with cold rainwater. “Honey, you’re soaked!”

Something about the way he called you honey made your skin crawl. Only one person was allowed to call you such names. And he certainly wasn’t this man, with messy hair and a too-pink face. Nothing about him glowed.

“I’m going to take a shower.” Speaking for the first time in a new body was odd, to say the least. You never knew what you would sound like and your voice always felt like it was coming from somewhere behind you like you were hearing someone else speak while you moved your lips along to their sounds. Your limbs were clumsy when you stomped up the stairs. You didn’t know where the bathroom was, obviously, but you assumed there would be one on each floor. You silently prayed that the man - who you assumed was your husband - wouldn’t follow you up.

Not that God would listen.

But your husband didn’t protest or follow and that was a small victory you would accept.

Free to roam, you checked every door until you found the bedroom. A small desk sat in the corner of the large room, a laptop sitting on top. You quickly sat down and pressed the spacebar. To your luck, the laptop was already logged into and unlocked. Having done this a million times by this point, you scrolled through the phone you’d found. People usually kept their passwords in the notes on their phones, particularly if they were middle-aged, which is what you assumed your body was. No one ever aged in Hell; it was weird to feel creaky and fatigued.

Finding what you needed was easy, just like it was easy to buy a plane ticket to a country on the other side of the world (under your husband’s airline membership because you might as well get him the mileage points while you kidnapped his wife). Luckily, your host was rich. The ticket didn’t put a dent in their bank account, leaving you with plenty of money to live off of until you died again or the credit card got canceled.

A tiny part of you felt terrible dragging a suitcase down the stairs and hauling it into the taxi out front while your husband frantically begged you not to leave. It was never worth it to come up with an excuse; making up fake reasons like divorce or imaginary business trips only caused more pain, in your opinion. No, it was better to stay silent, even though it pushed a sharp pain into your heart no matter how many times you had to break up families and friends. Silence prevented a fight.

So you kept your mouth shut from the moment you left the house until you were forced to interact with the airport employees. At least your host had a valid passport, you told yourself as you waited at the gate for your plane. It was important to acknowledge the small victories, you reminded yourself. Maybe one sliver of a silver lining was that living in host bodies allowed you to do things you’d never done before, to go places you’ve never been, and to have no real sense of responsibility aside from staying alive.

By the time the plane arrived, you were exhausted. Respawning took a toll on your body as your host’s soul often attempted to fight against you, to push through your oppressive presence inside their heads, inside their bodies. It was useless, but they didn’t know that.

You couldn’t blame them. It felt unnatural being in their bodies for you, too.

For now, a weight was lifted off your shoulders as you sank into your seat on the plane. The close quarters of the plane felt comforting; it was tight and uniform. No spontaneity. No surprises. It was the same every time: ticketing, security, waiting at the gate, waiting in line, finding your seat. You would fall asleep or listen to music or watch the clouds float in the atmosphere unrestrained like you longed to be.

As the remaining passengers slowly trickled in, you hoped the seat next to you would stay empty, though it always seemed like that never happened.

With a sigh, you leaned your elbow on the arm of your seat and gazed out at the airport employees loading everyone’s baggage. You didn’t look away until you felt that hum of energy that made your teeth clatter and fear to splinter your bones.

“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N.”

Seokjin buckled himself into the seat next to you and leaned against your shoulder. His lips just barely breathed warm air against the side of your face, but it was enough to make your skin shiver.

Just then the flight attendant announced an update regarding the plane’s estimated time of arrival. Ten hours. A ten-hour flight with Kim Seokjin at your elbow, a sickly sweet smile blooming across his face as you know yours twisted in dread.

“It’s cute you thought you could run, love.” He ran his fingers along your jawline. “Adorable.”

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

@evanssgi @guks-lip-piercing @haliiimede @astronaut-jin-moon @jjkeverlast @klitklittredge @koobsessed @moonchild1 @moonleeai @parkdatjimin @reliablemitten @saweetspoiled @sugarwithtea @taegiblr @yoongukie-ff

216 notes · View notes

ogradyfilm · 1 year

Text

Recently Viewed – Mondays: See You “This” Week!

[The following review contains MINOR SPOILERS; YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!]

Back in 2020, Beyond the Infinite Two Minutes—Junta Yamaguchi’s immaculately structured single-take extravaganza—set a new standard for time loop stories. While Ryo Takebayashi’s Mondays: See You “This” Week! isn’t quite as stylistically accomplished, it’s still a magnificently crafted comedy.

The plot revolves around a group of exhausted office workers gradually realizing that their shared feelings of déjà vu aren’t merely the result of crunch-induced stress, anxiety, and fatigue; they actually are repeating the same week over and over again. Despite her desperation to break the cycle, however, our central protagonist—an ambitious middle manager who is always looking towards future job prospects—also wants to take advantage of the bizarre situation in order to really refine and perfect the company’s latest advertising campaign; after all, it isn’t often that somebody in her position is handed a literal second (and third, and fourth, and twentieth) chance—the golden opportunity to revise one’s mistakes, no strings attached. The razor-sharp satire doesn’t stop with this biting commentary on the need for a healthy work-life balance, either. Our heroes, for example, are so deeply entrenched in corporate culture that they approach the supernatural conflict as they would any other project: by “running it up the ladder,” with each character that discovers the temporal anomaly subsequently bringing it to the attention of his or her immediate superior only.

Although the tight script (credited to Takebayashi and Saeri Natsuo) undoubtedly establishes the movie’s zany tone, the editing is equally integral to its sense of humor. As in Edgar Wright’s Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, and Baby Driver, every cut is deliberate and purposeful, creating an almost musical rhythm. The superb sound design reinforces this punchy pacing, with such ambient noises as the incessant buzz of ringing cell phones, the monotonous clickety-clack of keyboards, and the sudden thud of a pigeon crashing into a windowpane punctuating the rapid-fire jokes like exclamation points.

Irreverent, whimsical, and effortlessly entertaining, Mondays is yet another one of those films that epitomizes the quintessential festival experience. What a marvelous way to conclude the most consistently satisfying edition of Japan Cuts to date!*

*Of those that I have personally attended, at least.

#Mondays: See You “This” Week!“#Mondays #Japan Cuts #Japan Society #Ryo Takebayashi #Saeri Natsuo #Japanese cinema #Japanese film #film #writing #movie review

0 notes

cgsf · 2 years

Text

Teen Wolf fanfiction recs:

Stiles Stilinski/Peter Hale [Part 1]

"Beautiful Like Birds" (E) by Whispering_Sumire | 18,694 | Stiles goes back to save the world from ending but suffers PTSD in the aftermath.

"Magic Fixes What Apologies Won't" (G) by Whispering_Sumire | 5,358 | Stiles and Peter go back in time to fix everything.

"Domestic Bliss and Other Nonsense" (G) by moonstalker24 | 8,901 | "So, I think we should get married." Peter chokes, fumbles for a second, then manages to set his mug of tea down on the coffee table. He turns to look at Stiles, who is sprawled over the end of the couch, flipping through an old book. "What?" Peter asks. Stiles turns bright amber eyes on the stunned werewolf. "We should get married." “Why?” “So all the books can be in one place.”

"no moral compass, pointing due north" (E) by AuntieClimactic | 4,709 | “I certainly didn’t suggest anything untoward,” Peter says, honestly perplexed but hiding it by widening his eyes innocently. “I can’t help it if you overreacted to my natural sexual magnetism.”

"You Had Me at Canapes" (E) by LadyArinn | 47,119 | Stiles doesn't mean to sneak into the Hale wedding, and he certainly doesn't mean to have cliche coat-room sex with the bride's uncle, but what had happened, happened, and it wasn't like he could just leave. At least, not until he got to have some of that cake.

"Goodbye to a World" (M) by mia6363 for cywscross | 15,787 | Too many of them had died… and those who were left were more broken because of it. So when Peter hesitantly admitted to knowing about a spell that would send someone back in time Stiles knew he had to do it.

"Reluctant Allies With Benefits" (E) by veterization | 93,217 | Peter suggests he and Stiles start having no strings attached sex. It's that simple. No, really, it totally is. Stiles will make sure of it.

"The Striking Complication" (T) by aurevell | 118,704 | Stiles snaps awake each morning with the sense that he’s missing something. Weirder still, he can’t wrap his head around his sudden, inexplicable trust in Peter Hale, who seems to know way more than he’s letting on. Nor can he guess why a half-remembered nightmare seems to haunt his every move. Rinse and repeat. Because time loops suck, apparently.

"Under the Songbird’s Wing" (E) by mia6363 | 87,398 | Captivity easily destroys the will of escape. It can break the fiercest of animal. It can strip the most regal man and woman down to nothing but animal needs. Captivity can, if met with unwavering determination, shape a person into something unimaginable. Stiles is sixteen when he's captured. Stiles's first thought is, "I won't die here."

"Eyes on the Road" (M) by Phoebe_Hunter | 2,687 | Stiles is tasked with covertly ferrying a certain werewolf across the country. Things don't go as planned. Or at least, not as Stiles planned.

"red. and a little more red." (E) by brawlite | 24,999 | Peter Hale returns to Beacon Hills after some time away. He finds the inescapable bonds of pack, the remnants of family, and a loft that is bigger and better than Derek's. He even finds what is beginning to feel a lot like a midlife crisis. That, he blames on Stiles. The slow and inevitable progression of time might have something to do with it, too.

"Lucky Penny (Tastes Like Copper on Your Tongue)" (M) by pibroch | 11,364 | The time I decided to give Peter all the nice things, but made him get hit by a car first. Like you do.

"Could Frame Thy Mortal" (E) by alternativename | 42,271 | Held in an Argent facility, never knowing who he can trust, Stiles pays for his survival with the only currency he has.

"Infinite Space" (E) by DiscontentedWinter | 32,124 | Stiles needs Peter's expertise to help stop the latest threat to Beacon Hills. And, as the pack falls apart around him, he might even need Peter for more than that.

"come get me (if you want me)" (E) by veterization | 26,655 | Stiles is perfectly happy in his life as a police officer with no supernatural interference whatsoever anymore. And then Peter Hale shows up again intent on humiliating the police, and Stiles' plans are forced to undergo a few changes.

"The Check List" (E) by rospeaks | 10,467 | Peter and Stiles develop a friends with benefits kind of relationship where Peter helps Stiles experience a series of firsts, one by one.

"The Secret in His Eyes" (T) by cywscross | 5,901 | In the chaotic mess with the Alpha Pack, nobody realizes Stiles was bitten.

"occupational hazards" (E) by veterization | 129,307 | Stiles' work life is pretty great, from the nice cubicle he sits in, the friends he gets to have as coworkers, and all the free snacks he gets to eat during meetings. And then financial consultant Peter Hale shows up.

"Pulled Taut" 🔒 (E) by Corpium | 117,730 | Stiles learns magic to stave off the Alpha pack's attacks. Peter helps.

"Everybody Wants to Rule the World" (E) by Twisted_Slinky | 11,010 | "Hello, Stiles." The recognition wasn't instant, but the fear was. For a split second, he didn't know why his whole body had frozen, his eyes widening, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. Then it hit him, the moment before he swiveled around and saw the werewolf standing behind him. That was Peter Hale's voice. "Who let you out?"

"He Throws Himself Against You, Like the Sea Crashing Over a Jagged Shoreline" (M) by taylorpotato | 1,178 | Peter and Stiles have each other's names on their wrists. Fate has a sadistic sense of humor.

"Eventually (I'll Crash Into You)" (M) by ToAStranger | 5,435 | Derek pushes Stiles away to keep him safe. Stiles more than just leaves.

"Feet on the Dash" (E) by veterization | 9,431 | It's strange, because to the random unknowing passerby they're just two friends, maybe even family members, taking a road trip in the middle of a sweaty, endless June, but Peter's an ex-serial killer werewolf and Stiles is a little puny human who's eating all the chips like Peter won't rip his throat out if he eats the whole bag without sharing. The road trip part, however, is true.

"Beauty In His Eyes" (E) by Whispering_Sumire | 16,852 | "Take me away," Stiles breathes when Peter opens his door. He's soaked through, heavy rain drumming against the stiff line of his shoulders, mud cached up his pants, his arms, teeth-clacking, bone-clinking shivers wracking harshly through him. He feels cracked open, desperate, hollow, and there's a tight, blistering ache in the back of his throat begging him to cry, to spill out all his secrets, his terror, his misery.

"Sugarcoated" (E) by Shey | 37,806 | Stiles doesn't want to admit it, but his dad is right—he's trying to pack way too many minimum-wage hours into the five-week break before the new semester starts. But what else is a screwed over college student with a budget tighter than his worn-out skinny jeans supposed to do? At least he's found some nice, distracting eye-candy to keep his mind off of his problems.

"Tabula Rasa" (T) by Shey | 5,825 | Stiles was surprisingly calm, perched on the exam table in Deaton’s back room, his sneaker-clad feet swinging carelessly as the pack argued over his fate. Though maybe the calm wasn’t that surprising. After all, what did a boy with no memories have to worry about?

"If I Could Kiss You Again" (T) by Triangulum | 4,306 | Five times Stiles kisses Peter and one time Peter kisses him.

"real" (NR) by Areiton | 1,745 | He moves like he’s fragile and old, like a strong gust of wind will shatter him, flinches away from the pack like a single touch will break him open.

"None of These Things (Are Happening)" (E) by Horribibble | 3,211 | Peter can smell the violence inside him, the urge to do something grand and possibly cataclysmic. It’s there—mixed with a balance and natural calm, but in the undercurrent, it’s there. He has seen things beyond the scope of Beacon Hills’ petty horror show. He has learned things.

"The Arrangement" (E) by DarkIsRising | 3,700 | Two years post-Nogitsume and Stiles Stilinski is Not Okay. It just so happens that Peter is around to make a suggestion.

"Four Trees" (T) by twothumbsandnostakeincanon | 1,225 | Stiles stumbled. Peter shouldn’t have noticed. The stumble wasn’t putting him in mortal danger. The fight was over. Peter hadn’t kept close track of him during it either; if there was anyone from the pack he trusted in a fight, it was Stiles. Not that he really trusted anyone.

"The Unexpected Marriage of Peter Hale" (G) by moonstalker24 | 9,383 | This is the story of how Peter gets married without technically dating anyone.

"Means to an End" (E) by Ashentongue | 7,894 | “Oh my God, Peter, what’s wrong with you, I thought you were a—” Stiles stops abruptly, gaze flicking from the box to Peter. I thought you were a murderer. Oh. There’s a human heart in his living room and Peter is back and Stiles feels so stupid right now because this is exactly the kind of situation where Occam’s razor works just fine.

"drowning in the sea of you" (M) by Corpium | 21,568 | Beacon Hills was perfect for Stiles growing up, but now, with werewolves, hunters, and an anxious best friend running around, it's turning into a place too chaotic for an empath like Stiles to handle alone. And pain killers can only go so far.

"Tremors" (T) by Corpium | 20,838 | Stiles has a taste for him now. All Peter needs to do is wait.

"Successfully Cheating Death (Twice)" (T) by veterization | 20,457 | Turns out, Peter's resurrection wasn't as permanent as expected. Unfortunately for Stiles, he wants to see Peter live.

"come find me" (E) by Areiton | 36,665 | He’s sixteen and every beautiful untouchable thing, because he is your student, a sophomore and you are going to hell, you tell yourself.

"The Perceptions of You and I" (T) by lavenderlotion | 5,554 | “Baby, why did your secretary ask me if I was here under duress?” Peter looks at him, blinks slowly, and then tilts his head to the side before asking, “She what?”

"are you lonely, darling?" (NR) by Areiton | 1,584 | He is four and lonely. He is four and lonely and there is a pale man with a small secretive smile.

"What he wants (what you need)" (G) by Areiton | 1,120 | You answer the phone and his voice is raspy and pleased and you think nothing you've done in this life or the last could warrant this.

"The Rest of Our Lives" (T) by mia6363 | 1,842 | “I don’t know, as a kid I watched a lot of movies, you know? And at first I figured like… I’d be on some great adventure that would take me away from it all, you know? Like Indiana Jones comes around and is all, ‘Hey Stiles, buddy, come with me we’ve got to go save the world.’ Then… you and… everything happened… then I just… I figured I’d die before I was eighteen.”

"Plan B(eta)" (M) by Shey | 1,881 | Peter sets down the knife and steps into Stiles’ space, crowds close and lets his eyes flare red. Stiles’ breath catches and his mouth drops open enticingly. “Shit, that’s hot.” He seems to hear himself a moment too late and flinches. “I mean…” He shuts his eyes and groans, which doesn’t do anything to hide the scent of his arousal.

"What the Water Gave Me" (T) by DiscontentedWinter | 7,104 | A run in with a rusalka leaves Detective Stiles Stilinski with a crippling fear of the water. And help comes from an unexpected quarter.

"Sanctuary" (M) by DiscontentedWinter | 56,525 | The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves. It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

"love me lights out" (E) by veterization | 41,770 | Stiles and Peter get snowed in together.

"Deal with the Devil" (E) by luulapants | 11,014 | After getting in over his head with magic, Stiles comes to Peter for help. They find a mutually beneficial arrangement.

"a quiet, casual thing" (M) by Areiton | 1,662 | It doesn’t mean anything, when he starts spending time at Peter’s downtown apartment--it’s nicer than the loft, and Peter has a better library and on the nights when his father works the night shift and his nightmares press a little too close, the couch is comfortable.

"soft touches" (NR) by Areiton | 1,628 | Stiles watches, the way the betas avoid him, the way Derek never spars with him, the way he holds himself still and brittle, his gaze mocking, like he can convince them he doesn’t want what they won’t offer. Stiles thinks they buy it because they don’t care enough to look deeper.

"our hungers appeased (our heartbeats becoming slow)" (T) by willowcrowned | 6,155 | It had been Stiles who’d suggested it, offhand, while sitting on the steps of the Hale house, watching Derek try to wrangle his pups into something closer to controlled. He hadn’t been looking at Peter, but he’d been watching him anyways, and he’d seen—something in Peter that had made him recommend Peter get out of Beacon Hills with only half the malice that Peter had been expecting from him.

"Trappings" (T) by Sparseparsley | 1,273 | Peter just wants to say hello.

"My Mind to Your Mind" (M) by rospeaks | 912 | Maybe crashing his Jeep on purpose was a bad idea, but never ever did Stiles expect Peter to protect him in the impact or to shake off his daze only to have Peter's thoughts slipping into his mind as if they were his own. Or vice versa, in fact, which is going to make escaping much more difficult.

"a fifty-fifty shot (that i'll regret this in the morning)" (M) by rospeaks | 1,155 | It was an experiment Stiles was doing for a sociology class. He was supposed to write a paper on the experience, elaborating on how letting a coin decide his fate for a week either broadened or limited opportunities in his day-to-day life. It seemed easy enough.

"i want you (only you)" (T) by cywscross | 4,364 | Peter wakes up on Valentine’s Day to a body on his doorstep.

"steel bars and blood-slick hands" (M) by Corpium | 4,395 | When Deaton whisks Peter's burnt, gasping body away to Eichen House, everyone else pays the price, Stiles most of all.

"How Not to Be a Virgin Sacrifice by Stiles Stilinski" (E) by bookjunkie1975 | 7,681 | In which Stiles is a damsel in distress, acquires a unicorn and loses his virginity. A lot.

"With These Hands" (M) by Triangulum | 12,650 | Stiles' hands shake when he kills for the first time. He's only seven and it's an accident.

"Wolf & Boy: A Division of Cat & Mouse, Inc." (E) by calrissian18 | 7,847 | There’s something off in the Stilinski boy’s scent. He stands next to the wall of grated windows in Derek’s half-finished loft and crosses his arms over his chest, wrapping large hands and spidery fingers almost desperately over the balls of his shoulders, as if he’s physically trying to hold himself together. He’s entertaining, like an art installation camouflaged in everyday life. He still has that look of prey he’d had from the moment Peter first laid eyes on him.

"Maybe the Thought Counts" (E) by Shey | 11,035 | Peter finds holidays distasteful, and his opinion on gift-giving isn’t fit for polite company—or so his sister used to say. He thought his position on the matter was perfectly clear, but based on what he just walked into, someone didn’t get the message.

"I like it here, can I stay." (M) by predictaslash | 10,683 | When it comes down to it, Scott can't go through with it.

"Resistance (Is Futile)" (M) by predictaslash | 2,812 | "What are you even wearing.” To be clear, Stiles knows what he’s seeing, he just can’t believe it. Han Solo’s handsome face and Han Shot First all on a shirt that Peter Hale, murderwolf extraordinaire, is wearing. To a midnight premiere. Of Star Wars: The Force Awakens.

"a savage such as i" (M) by ahab2692 | 6,645 | “So what, are you taking me out to the woods to whack me? Is this the part of the movie where Al Pacino stares at the baby in the church while all of the henchman go out to slaughter his enemies? Because I kinda don’t want to die, and I definitely don’t want to be in pain. I’m not really a pain person. Well, okay, there was that one website that- No. Never mind. Shutting up now.”

"you know what this road is paved with" (M) by darthjamtart | 902 | Peter's grip is bruise-tight around Stiles' wrist, reeling him in when he tries to jerk away.

"Beware the Dark Pool" (M) by AuntieClimactic | 6,884 | Stiles had soaked the baseball bat in wolfsbane. Peter could smell it over the corpse, the werewolf dead and bleeding in the dirt. Peter slowly stood from where the Alpha had him cornered, ready to deliver a crippling blow, listening to the rest of the pack approaching their position in the forest. The bat hung limp in Stiles grip as the child stared, eyes wide and unfocused, at the body. Ignoring his own wounds, Peter gently took the bat from Stiles hands, clasping his bloody hand around a frail wrist as he pried Stiles’ fingers loose.

"Amends" (E) by AuntieClimactic | 18,213 | Stiles blinks, “You’ve spent the last twenty years in therapy?” “I had some emotional issues,” Peter admits. “That’s… hilarious.”

"Spaceboy" (E) by DiscontentedWinter | 17,900 | Stiles is uncharacteristically quiet, gaze darting to Peter occasionally, then away again quickly when he’s spotted. Stiles is one of Peter’s best students. He’s naturally curious, unashamedly opinionated, and ridiculously animated most days. Not today though.

"Laundry Day" (E) by luulapants | 7,556 | Peter tries to reconcile his idealized love for Stiles with the reality of living with a seventeen-year-old. His strategies are, perhaps, questionable.

"For Certain Values of Love" (G) by DiscontentedWinter | 5,003 | There's something missing in John Stilinski's life, and he'll never know what it was.

"For Certain" (NR) by abluemountainashtardis | 20,433 | The idea of leaving before getting an answer is preposterous. The promise he gave Stiles has become more than a quaint platitude – it’s become his only reason for existence. There is no one in this world who knows him. Who knows him. And there never will be again.

"can't, can't, can't (this is what perfection feels like)" (E) by Twisted_Mind | 2,629 | “Stiles,” goddamn him, but he can’t help meeting the blue-eyed stare, “you know as well as I do that this between us is about wants and needs. Tonight is about what you need.” His gaze skitters away, skin heating under Peter’s palms. He doesn’t want to think about what he needs. Doesn’t want to think about what that means. Doesn’t want to be all stripped-raw, vulnerable parts—because that’s what Peter will demand from him. That’s what Peter will turn him into.

"Love me slow, hallucinating" (T) by glossary | 11,869 | Peter is not a good person. Remembers that freckled knee and leans against Stiles, shoulders brushing. Underneath all that skin like rice paper there are fragile bones that he almost wants to break. There’s a sense of intimacy summer brings, he thinks, a desperation for contact that hurts after a while and so does the sun.

"Less Defined" 🔒 (E) by saintsideways | 7,971 | Stiles turns seventeen on a Tuesday, and his gift is kidnapping. He wakes up on Wednesday morning with a pounding headache, chained to a four-poster bed. “What the fuck?”

"be my electric" (T) by seventhswan | 2,754 | In the end, Stiles isn’t even sure what it is that really makes Peter snap. It had been a long, long afternoon campaign of needling, of the two of them rubbing up against each other like sandpaper, and then the others left to pick up dinner and – Stiles is fast, that’s about his only saving grace. He realises an instant before Peter tries to grab him that that is what’s about to happen, and he runs.

"Loose Ends" 🔒 (E) by saintsideways | 11,223 | “I’m an awfully big secret to keep,” Peter observes, aiming to wound. Stiles takes a deep breath and pulls his hand out of his mouth. He wracks his brain for something to counter Peter’s point but comes up empty, because he’s right. He’s fucking right.

"Prison Break" (T) by cywscross | 21,925 | The last time Peter was locked up and abandoned, he went crazy and killed a bunch of people. Stiles can’t understand why anyone would consider it a good idea to repeat history. So he decides to do something about it.

"Invisible String" (T) by asarcasticwitch | 500 | Peter releases a long breath, a short laugh cutting off the end, interrupting Stiles's question. "Of course it would be you."

"The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Preserve" (T) by DiscontentedWinter | 9,704 | Stiles glares at the happy people enjoying their happy day, and is for a second he’s pleased to see he’s not the only one glaring. There’s a super hot older guy sitting out on the patio who is also giving them a death stare. Stiles feels a rush of solidarity followed by a rush of lust—the guy is hot, and Stiles has eyes, okay?—and then his gaze falls to the dog sitting at the guy’s side, its big boof head resting on his knee as it gazes at him adoringly. Stiles swallows down that inappropriate thought, because it’s the dog. It’s the missing dog.

"What Follows" (T) by Whreflections | 1,376 | Peter’s been following Stiles’ Instagram for awhile- what can he say; he spends a lot of time sitting in airports, and watching this kid has started to help him pass a lot of it.

"Hook, Yarn, Sinker" (NR) by pprfaith | 65,676 | Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter's just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.

"Make Me A Mute" (E) by asarcasticwitch | 499 | Stiles has just discovered at least two new kinks in the span of eight seconds; he’s gonna need some time to re-evaluate his whole life.

"How To Woo Yourself A Stiles (In Three Acts)" (T) by ShippersList | 7,044 | The story where Peter owns a tea shop, Stiles is a college student, and Chris is way too interested in things that are none of his business.

"A Matter of Security" (E) by luulapants | 12,605 | Peter, live-in bodyguard to the son of a US ambassador, is negotiating boundaries with his charge. It would be a little easier if he wasn't constantly overhearing Stiles's sex noises.

"Whatever Works" (E) by KouriArashi | 61,929 | The problem with having your soulmate's first words to you tattooed on your arm is knowing your whole life that you're fated to be with a jerk. It's enough to make Stiles want to date other people ... which is how he winds up dating his soulmate's nephew.

"Clever Boy" (E) by abluemountainashtardis | 33,703 | “Do you understand,” he said brushing his nose along Stiles' jaw. Stiles started shaking. “Why I can't let you go?” “Cause you're a super psycho rapist that -” “No Stiles,” Peter said cutting him off with a nip of his ear that Stiles flinched back from. “Use your head. Why can't I let you go?" “I don't know, man. I don't -” “Stiles. Don't disappoint me.” Stiles swallowed at the thinly veiled threat, and tried to think. So, apart from the heavy molesting that was currently going on... “I've seen your face,” Stiles grit out.

"30" (T) by DarkIsRising | 6,283 | [8:20 PM] apparently someone’s come to court me

"Cold as you" (M) by DarkIsRising | 3,218 | “There. Are we warm yet, sweetheart?” Peter asks with a mocking lilt, and when Stiles can’t find the words to answer says: “You know if you’re really this badly off I might as well give you the Bite. It would save us a trip to the E.R. if your internal organs start to shut down,” and when that doesn’t dredge up a word of protest he whispers shit and starts to remove his clothes. “Alright, I’m not even sure this will work but if there’s anyone on God’s green Earth with a body hot enough to save your life, I can only assume it’s mine,” and with that pronouncement, Peter slides into bed beside Stiles and scoops him into his arms.

"Save Me" (E) by DiscontentedWinter | 39,127 | Peter is the Alpha. He's nobody's savior. Not his pack's. Not his town's. And not that kid's. But sometimes salvation goes both ways.

"A Matter of Choice" (E) by Twisted_Mind | 14,823 | “What else aren’t you telling me?” Because he’s pressed up against Peter, his ear to the broad chest, he hears the way Peter’s heartbeat speeds, and, for the first time since waking up after being attacked, he’s afraid for himself. “Once the vampires realized what you’d done,” Peter starts slowly, and Stiles clutches at his shirt to ground himself. “They decided revenge was appropriate.” “Oh God. Peter, tell me I’m not—” “I’m sorry, darling. You’re turning.”

"further out than you thought" (M) by walksbyherself | 6,418 | “You were gone for a moment and you’re here now. What part of that would you like to focus on?” (Stiles thinks about the grave in the white room, his grave. He’s been dead twice now; how many times can it happen before it sticks?)

"One, Two, Zombie" (T) by wynnebat | 511 | Three times Peter returns from the dead.

"See how fast they fall apart" (M) by d1sclosure | 8,424 | “So this is what you do when you aren’t setting people on fire.” Okay. Creepily familiar voice in his bedroom. God. He was too tired for this shit. “Good to know,” Peter said.

"His Color" (M) by SushiOwl | 1,068 | “Darling, have you been carrying a throw-away comment I made in your mind for almost four months?” Stiles’s face felt like it was one with fire now.

"We're forever, you and I" (M) by d1sclosure | 9,013 | “Stiles?” Stiles licked his lips and when he spoke, the words rasped like he’d been screaming. “I’m losing time.” Well. There went his evening.

"Love When Love's Invisible" (E) by elysiumwaits | 7,195 | Stiles just wanted the summer before his last year of college to be quiet and peaceful. Now he’s been accidentally magically bonded to Peter Hale, which is absolutely a problem - they’ve got history.

"Do You Wanna Get High?" 🔒 (E) by taylorpotato | 17,082 | Stiles smokes hella weed. As it turns out, so does Peter. It only makes sense that they start smoking together, right? Or maybe that's weird. Eh. If free drugs are involved, Stiles isn't gonna question it.

"All's Fair in Love and Videogames" 🔒 (E) by taylorpotato | 22,516 | Neither of them is aware of it, but Peter and Stiles play the same MMORPG. After Stiles moves away from Beacon Hills and goes to college, he and Peter start raiding together by accident.

"The (Horizontal) Monster Mash" 🔒 (E) by taylorpotato | 17,350 | It figures that, living in Beacon Hills, Stiles would eventually become a creature of the night. But he should have hopped on the werewolf train when Peter offered it, because being a vampire sucks.

"Mr. Hale" (E) by GiggleSnortBangDead | 3,102 | "But, Mr. Hale, you can't fail me. I've been trying so hard this semester." Stiles leaned forward, one hand on the table before them, the other clutching the back of Peter's chair. He wasn't exactly shoving his neck in Peter's face, but he was getting close. Peter looked up from his laptop, fingers stilled on the keys. "Really, Stiles? Now? Are you serious?"

"My Love Won't Wait" 🔒 (E) by taylorpotato | 11,165 | Peter just wants to start a new pack. He might kind of kidnap Stiles in the process. It’s possible that Stiles wants a new father figure. Or that he’s dissociated beyond the point of having rational thoughts. Either way, he’s not trying to escape.

"Three Times a Pattern" (T) by Udunie | 4,385 | Stiles was man enough to admit when he made a mistake. And boy, did he make one when he expected college to be smooth sailing after the hell hole that was his home town. You would think that having supernatural creatures out for you friends’ - and occasionally your own - blood would be enough to put things into perspective, but college? College was a whole other clusterfuck.

"Red" (T) by Udunie | 14,736 | “Otis! What is it?” The dog was wagging his tail, guarding the roots of a tree, and as he got closer, Peter saw that it wasn’t actually the tree that got him hyped up, it was the shaggy ball of red fur nestled at the base. “The hell…” It was a small fox. At least it looked small, but Peter had no idea how big full grown foxes were. It looked small next to Otis.

°°°°°°

That's the max for this list.

#steter #stiles x peter #stiles stilinski #peter hale #teen wolf fics #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf #fanfiction #ao3 #fan fiction #fanfic #fic rec

151 notes · View notes

politesper-rip · 2 years

Text

@averagetm asked : ☯ + endless eight loop # 2,345 ( this poor boy )

mikuru asahina had contacted me about it first . while there was tension between our two groups , she seemed to find me the most reliable person to contact about such a problem . it was understandable ; while yuki nagato was very capable , she was difficult to understand or talk to --- and i couldn’t help but notice how anxious mikuru seemed to be around her . i couldn’t blame her . . . yuki was an intimidating individual .

as for the only other member of the brigade who would be allowed to know anything about this , kyon likely wasn’t capable of giving any advice . he wasn’t as deeply involved with things behind the scenes , and he certainly didn’t have any connections that would be able to look into things deeper . kyon was always a bit of a bystander when it came to these things , i’ve noticed . i wouldn’t call this a bad thing , just an aspect of his character .

there was no way to contact the future . i had heard it from her directly , and after a long discussion we had decided to contact the other brigade members --- minus suzumiya - san , obviously .

i had called yuki while mikuru had contacted kyon . i was able to arrange a meeting place with the tfei rather quickly , and noticing mikuru struggling on her end , i had taken the phone and informed kyon that there was a situation that called for our attention . that is how we got to where we are now .

‶ allow me to summarize . basically , we are stuck in an infinite time loop . ″ i explained with my usual smile , remaining calm despite the situation . while this was a serious situation , i’d rather not throw kyon into a panic . and , with mikuru barely holding herself together , sniffing and sobbing , one of us had to be the person to calmly and concisely get the words out . yuki was off the table , she was infamously silent and wasn’t well - known for explaining things in a way humans could understand . kyon would benefit from a calm , human explanation ( as human as something like this possibly could be ) .

” do you have any idea what you’re saying ? “ kyon asks .

‶ of course . i am fully aware with the implications . i was discussing the matter with asahina - san earlier . ″ it would be better not to get too in - depth . not only was it complex , but the explanations i heard were riddled with “ classified information “ . i wouldn’t be able to get into the details , even if i wanted to . ‶ as a result , we realized that something was odd about the recent flow of time . you should credit the discovery to asahina - san . she was able to confirm my suspicion . ″

” what suspicion ? “ really , kyon , are you even paying attention ?

‶ that we are experiencing the same period of time over and over . ″

” i’ve already heard about that . “ then what were you expecting me to say ?

‶ to be precise , it would be the period from august seventeenth to the thirty - first . ″ i continued , repeating the same point . i feel like i’ve said this same thing before . the words came out hollow , like an echo . this must be more of that deja vu i’ve been feeling . . . it’s a bit hard to get passionate about an explanation you’ve probably already given multiple times before , isn’t it ? ‶ we are currently in the middle of a summer vacation with no end . ″

” we’re currently on summer vacation right now . “

‶ a literally endless summer . in this world we will never see september , much less autumn . there is no future after august . that is why asahina - san cannot return to the future . it all makes sense . it’s only natural that she cannot communicate with the future when the future no longer exists . ″ i felt like more elaboration was needed , since kyon couldn’t seem to process the concept of a time loop . i don’t blame him , if i were in his shoes , an ordinary human , i wouldn’t believe it so easily either . still , you can’t help but wonder how many supernatural events must occur before he starts accepting these things more readily .

” who would ever believe that ? “

‶ i was hoping that you might believe me , since i couldn’t possibly tell suzumiya - san . ″ i noticed kyon looking at mikuru and followed his gaze . she had tried to explain before i took the reigns , but her attempts were riddled with elaborate censors . those time travelers certainly do take every precaution they can take to monopolize information , don’t they ? i don’t think i can blame mikuru personally , though . it seems she isn’t doing it consciously .

” are we trapped in some kind of weird world created by haruhi ? like a real - life version of that closed space thing ? “

i leaned back against a nearby vending machine , crossing my arms before rejecting his hypothesis . if this was a closed space , i would’ve been made aware the second this strange scenario started . ‶ the world has not been recreated . suzumiya - san has cut off a sector of time . the period from august seventeenth or after august thirty - first has disappeared . this is a world that will never see september . ″ i let out a sigh as i yet again repeat this point . it’s a shame that i have to take the lead with these things . couldn’t the other two be a bit more helpful in keeping kyon in the loop ? sometimes it feels like i’m the only one who bothers to tell him what’s going on . ‶ there is a process right before midnight on august thirty - first where everything is reset and returned to the seventeenth . ″

” what about our . . . i mean , everybody’s memories ? “

‶ those are also reset , as if the two weeks leading up to that point never happened . everybody starts over from the beginning . ″ i look back to kyon , trying to gauge his reaction . and , seeing him looking at mikuru , i assume his next thought and speak in advance . ‶ no , asahina - san has nothing to do with this incident . the situation is not as simple as you have deemed . ″

” how do you know ? “

‶ only suzumiya - san would be capable of such a feat . or did you have somebody else in mind ? ″ i find myself teasing him just a bit , despite the serious nature of the situation . it’s almost funny how he dances around the obvious culprit . was this part of this trust they shared ? or perhaps he still didn’t understand the true power that haruhi suzumiya held .

” what am i supposed to do ? “

‶ the matter will be as good as solved when we figure that one out . ″ and we have all the time we could possibly need to come to a conclusion . there was the issue of our memories resetting after each loop , but those feelings of deja vu ; it only makes sense they would get stronger each time this repeats . the sooner we figure it out , the better , but looking at the situation there wasn’t any true need to rush .

” you don’t seem very worried . why is that ? “

‶ i finally know the source of the strange sensation i’ve been experiencing the past few days . you must have felt the same way . starting from the day we went to the public pool , there have been intermittent , intense flashes of deja vu . in retrospect , i would say they were remnants of the memories from previous loops --- for lack of a better way to describe it . we were sensing the parts left over from the reset . ″

” could the whole world be feeling the same way ? “

‶ i doubt that . you and i are the exceptions . people who are close to suzumiya - san appear to have a higher chance of noticing the anomaly . ″

” what about haruhi ? is she aware of what’s going on ? “

‶ it seems that she’s utterly clueless . though you could say that it’s better this way . . . ″ if haruhi were to become aware of her abilities it would end in disaster for all of us , after all . luckily for us , there was one person who was aware of every single loop we had been through . i glance over to yuki , deciding that this information would be better received coming from her mouth rather than mine . ‶ so then , how many times have we repeated the last two weeks of august ? ″

without a single change in expression , yuki opened her mouth , answering plainly . “ this would be the two thousand three hundred and forty - fifth incarnation . “

i have to admit , i wasn’t expecting a number so large . let’s see , if i quickly do the math in my head . . . that would be nearly ninety years . quite the lofty number . i can’t help but wonder how many times we’ve had this conversation before . is this a more recent development , or rather have we been having this same talk since early on ? either way would be problematic . in the first option , that means that despite being aware of the situation , we consistently haven’t been able to find a solution . if it was the latter option , that means that we were making progress , but at an incredibly slow pace . who knows how many more years it would take to reach a proper conclusion .

hopefully , given the fact we’ve reached a point where we can call get together to discuss this , it won’t take many more loops to get to a point where we can put an end to this . ninety years is a long time , after all . how much longer could this realistically last ?

#*they proceed to loop for a total of 594 years*#you didn't specify which PART of endless eight so i just picked the funny ''oh shit we've been looping'' conversation #〈 ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ 〉 : ♙ → ask ╱ king of exposition.#〈 ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ 〉 : ♙ → study ╱ secrets behind locked doors.#long post //#averagetm

6 notes · View notes

dystopiandilfs · 4 years

Text

My favourite DreamSMP theory is that the reason everything repeats time and time again is because they're stuck in an infinite loop. Groundhog Day style (or Supernatural Mystery Spot for the SPN Stans)

The theory is that everyone keeps a bit of their memory everytime the timeline resets but certain members remember more than others. Wilbur and Schlatt being two of them.

Wilbur went mad because he remembers things that Tommy couldn't and Schlatt started drinking to forget and accidentally became an alcoholic and thought they were drunk dream/visions.

Techno also knows and stayed sane because Dream told him how he accidentally got everyone stuck in a loop. (God!Dream theory that Dream controlled the world but accidentally messed up which started the looping and the random new people appearing every so often)

George, Sapnap and Punz were also told by Dream and are some of the people who don't repeat the loop because they're trying to do things differently so it can stop looping.

The Badlands aren't 100% sure but have an idea that something is going on since they've also been here for a long time.

#dreamsmp #dreamwastaken #dream smp #badboyhalo #georgenotfound #sapnap #technoblade #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #schlatt #mcyt #new favourite theory

118 notes · View notes

saturnsstufff · 3 years

Note

I thought like everyone knew about SCP wkenrbrh so sorry about that

“The SCP Foundation is a secretive organization that contains anomalous or supernatural items and entities away from the eyes of the public. SCP stands for Secure, Contain, Protect.” (I googled a definition cus I suck at explaining lol)

So it’s basically a foundation that hides supernatural and most times dangerous entities, like for example there’s this one called SCP - 137 and it can’t move if you look at it, so if you blink it can (and probably will) instantly break your neck and kill you

Others are harmless like SCP - 999 which is basically a blob of orange slime and ITS SO CUTE it can roam around free (unless it has to be in its pen to sleep) and everyone loves it and I would 100% sacrifice myself and everyone for it

Some also aren’t alive like SCP - 087 which is basically a non ending staircase (I can’t think of the words lol) that also hosts SCP - 087-1 which is basically just a pale humanoid face, like someone covered a human with a white cloth, like slender as face but more defined

And my favorite (besides 999) is SCP - 3008, also nicknamed the infinite IKEA, it’s basically an IKEA that looks normal but it’s infinite on the inside and it’s also said to have multiple “openings”, for example there can be multiple IKEAs around the world that connects to the one that’s infinite. When you enter 3008 and pass out of sight from the front doors you enter SCP - 3008-1 aka the part that’s infinite, if you retrace your steps you can get out but since you don’t know you’ve entered 3008-1 since the change goes unnoticed it can be hard. It also hosts SCP - 3008-2 which is IKEA workers that are faceless and about 7 feet tall and their arms and legs are grossly out of proportion and larger then normal and they have huge hands. The IKEA has lights that automatically turn off at night and on in day so that works as their day and night cycle. In the day the workers don’t care about anyone in there (unless approached which makes them aggressive like at night), the foundation even went in with drones once and they didn’t care, they seem to just wander around randomly, but at night they get hostile towards all other life forms in SCP - 3008 and they chase them saying “the store is now closed, please exit the building” while reaching out for them and if they get you they kill you. The workers seem to be only flesh through their whole body so no on knows how their even alive. Since the IKEA is infinite it loops around itself and repeats so the food is also infinite and it seems to reappear in the cafeteria when no one is looking so food won’t be a problem if you get stuck. Inside the IKEA the ppl who’s stuck have built several small “houses” out of IKEA furniture and walls to protect themselves from the workers at night, the 14 ppl who’ve survived and got out have said that the ppl still stuck inside work together to fight off the employees and go on trips to get food.

I went severely off track so sorry about that but no one I know wants to talk about it and you didn’t know what it was so it’s an excuse for me to talk about it lol sorry again you don’t have to post this but to sum it up, Government no like human know of supernatural thing, so government take supernatural thing into cell or cover it up n keep survalance on it 24/7 and clean humans memory of its existence men in black style :D (please tell me you know what men in black is-) ~🪲

Oohhh!!! Ok this makes sence!! I didnt even know what it was (and i got men in black, the movies are hilarious)

#sat's talks

7 notes · View notes

etheralisi · 4 years

Text

Tʜᴇ Dʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ Iɴ Tʜᴇ Sᴛᴀʀs

𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸𝚗 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙴𝚗𝚍

𝚆𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚜

𝙸𝚗 𝙰𝚗 𝙴𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚄𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎

~𝙰𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚋𝚊 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚘

-------

Some god!cor for you all.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24387511 Also available on ao3 -------

Alcor dreams.

Long has it been since any have recalled his time as a demon, remembered one who was feared by the masses, a night time terror who asked for sweets as sacrifice, abhorred the bloodshed of children as he claimed himself as their protector. Or was, above all else, a twelve year old boy, curious towards all supernatural, unfortunate enough to fall into the clutches of a particular triangular demon.

The twenty-first century exists nowhere but with him, hidden behind the doors of his shack, all handles worn where he’s gazed upon memories, time again and again. The triangle hardly a myth beyond the whispers of demons. Those few who remember, those wise enough not cross paths with the dreambender, daren’t invoke his name.

Neither do they of Alcor’s. For the boy transcended has ascended even demonhood itself. A higher state of being, he reaches from eons upon eons of steady building power until the abyss of black flakes away to reveal gold, and a god emerges from a cocoon, long since having left the summoning circle behind. The god can craft reality to his whims merely by thought alone, scoop through reality as easy as the waters of a freshwater pond, let it trickle out through his fingertips, send ripples as he picks out life’s greatest treasures, shining specks of life glinting beneath the surface. Stitch its fabric together as he so sees fit, using techniques taught from the first of his Twin Stars, her guiding light as bright as ever, as even past death her soul still thrives.

He is the shepherd to both this universe and his flock.

Yet, he chooses to watch. To wait. To sleep.

His very touch burns. Burns the ground where he scoops, leaves the water as steam, the pool a crater in a molten wasteland, bubbling, boiling rock that’s putty in his hands. The fabric chars, the threads slip, and the colours bleached by his sun.

He glows gold. But no one ever told him he could glow too bright.

His sun blinds.

And so he sleeps. The universe plays out in his dreams, him, for all his power, reduced to a spectator. The universe is like glass. A shatterable, delicate, fragile thing he can yearn for but not touch.

For he is no longer human and never can pretend as such again. There is no lie to live in anymore. He is as he is.

For better or for worse.

Alcor dreams. Beautiful dreams, star speckled skies, rolling hills and civilisations spread across galaxies and built up from the ground. Lustrous planets of lapping oceans, exotic and simply magical flora, languages of tongues he’s never learnt but understands every word of.

He sees all.

Knows all.

As he watches new terrains thrive, he’s witness to those which depart, of the genius loci who fade into oblivion. Planets of ash, and planets of life alike fall victim to the works of the universe, survive so long, have so much history only to be engulfed by black holes, one step into the spiralling abyss and nothing really matters. They’re wiped clean, a smear on reality’s glass, forever falling and crumbling through the vortex where even time strays from. The black holes are the end, never seen coming, never there at all.

Where they end up is a mystery some never solve. But Alcor sees all. Knows all.

There is no mystery in the universe to him now.

Alcor dreams. And his dreams are of solar systems encircling their suns, their orbits their way of life. A journey planets repeat in mechanical motion as their sole purpose until their course is hindered, and paths destroyed. Planets are brought to life as they travel, crafted from those glorious burning suns so close to death, until as the eons pass, the planet strays too close to the sun, and the fire giant decimates the planet by too close an embrace.

The universe is Alcor’s planet, and he the dying sun.

His touch may burn, but he knows it’s nothing infinite. Nothing lasts forever, not even he.

The god makes his decision.

But the time is not now.

Alcor dreams. He dreams of the stars as they implode, of dwarf stars as they snuff themselves into oblivion. Of planets as life signatures dwindle, and burn themselves out, their flames bright but candle wicks oh so short.

There is war, and there is not. Metal husks float as derby, lost and forgotten as disregarded carcasses of battles where the victor is none. Space is a wasteland in that regard, a place for the unremembered. A graveyard of infinite stretch. There is hope, there is hopelessness and survivors, they scramble from the rubble and pull themselves up. Wounds they tend to with nurturing care, lick them clean and cling to one another, unaware of what they are survivors of. They live to see another day and work with what they have.

Life rebuilds. It always does. Apocalypses may rain terror, but shoots and sprouts cannot be trampled. Until in the end, when the dust clears, even they are struggling.

Nothing lasts forever. Not humanity, not Al-V. Not anything.

It’s a cycle. The universe’s will.

So he waits.

Alcor dreams. And the universe scatters into thousands, tiny particles of everything and anything zooming across the vast expanse of space, its reaches infinite, its walls nonexistent, and the debris fly at a constant pace.

His universe crumbles, its last legs stumbling, and Alcor knows. He is ready.

His waiting game is finally at an end.

The god opens his eyes, gold and all seeing, awake for the first time in untold eons — there is no need for time here, not in this place where there’s an endless loop of nothing — and as he breathes, he breathes back in new life to the barren canvas.

He is the shepherd and guides his new flock of stars. He is the visionary and sees a new world. He is the musician and lets his universe sing. He is the painter and makes it so.

Where there was destruction, there is creation, his power melding as one. He’s supernova, brighter than bright as he sets to work, a cosmic force of unparalleled energy. He shines, and there is no one there left to blind. He paints this new world, scatters the essence of his raw power like a fine mist, gives it a life he shan’t live to see, but it doesn’t worry him.

He’s not felt emotion in so long.

He has not felt much of anything at all.

Alcor is awake, but soon again he is to dream. Of a new universe, an old soul brought back anew.

Of new hopes and dreams. Of new lives. Of his flock embracing their new existence.

Of two Twin Stars reuniting once more.

#Bread Fic #Transcendence au #god!cor

17 notes · View notes

teddystrap · 5 years

Audio

Drama CD: [幽幻ロマンチカ・破天荒] 第弐の謎獏ウタシロ

First post of 2020!!!! Happy New Year, and a special treat for all my lovelies - here is a bonus audio track from Yuugen Romantica's Utashiro (cv. Kimura Ryouhei). Remember, whenever you are feeling sad or down, he is always by your side. Just call out to him in your dream and he will be here...

This time the subtitle is hatenkou, which refers to a major feat that has never been accomplished before. The common theme seems to be that your demon boyfriend goes back in time to rewrite a tragic past event into a happier one using his magical powers and the strength of your love.

Oh wow, looks like I just spoiled the whole story? End of review. Bye bye (*^-^)/

...

(No srsly let's get started.)

This disc starts with three glass explosions [[#VOLUMEWARNING]] to make sure I was listening I guess... #RIPeardrums... ;_;

Anyway, you have a nightmare that you are in a creepy dark room. The ceiling is lined with needles and coming down on you, and Utashiro tells you that you have to escape before the candle burns out. He counts down to zero seconds and the ceiling collapses with a BANG,... but he tells you that the game is not over. It will just infinite-loop back to the beginning, until you are able to escape...

You wake up drenched in sweat, in your own bed/room with U-kun sleeping beside you. He comforts you and figures you must be nervous about the school camping trip tomorrow.

Next morning, ya'll head off on the trip. He disguises himself as a student and comes along to protect you, ofc. He's complaining about everything from the choice of location (deep in the woods), to the amount of food+cooking materials ya'll have to carry, blah blah. Better shut him up by sticking my tongue down his throat ;)

Apparently there's the rumours of the Seven Supernaturals nearby. He wonders whether to *make those rumours a reality* and scare the shit out of your classmates. This prompts you to throw food (and utensils?) at him, so he possesses you and touches you in a few non-erotic places, and you totally freeze and blush because apparently you are some kind of virginal Victorian maiden whose momma never told you how babies are made. Orz

At night you go to the bathroom and find him waiting outside for you. Turns out he has been sensing some *demonic energy* in this place. He possesses your body and rushes you back to the bungalow for some sexy fun times.

Back in the room, the girls are excited and stay up chatting late into the night. They ask you what you like most about your boyfriend, and to U-kun's horror, you happily tell them about the time he waited for you at the station with an umbrella when it was raining :3. He's sooo mortally embarrassed that he puts everyone to sleep with his demon powers. #useful #powersIwishIhad

With everyone down, however, you can't sleep because of the nightmare from last night. You tell U-kun about it, but he doesn't sense any 'nightmare vibes' from your dream. He thinks it's either: (1) a premonition, or (2) someone hacking into your dream with their evil plan. Then he changes into chibi form to comfort you, and ya'll fall asleep...

...And enter the 'nightmare'. The setting is an old house. There's Japanese dolls rolling around, paper amulets and blood bags lining the walls. U-kun still doesn't feel any 'nightmarish vibes' from it, and he tries to get you both out of there with his demon powers but guess what - IT'S NOT WORKING!! Dozen of lit candles appear, and bloody writing on the wall says: 「ここから出られるかな」 ('Can you get out of here?')

U-kun is all like: 'CHALLENGE ACCEPTED >:)' and yells at the dream-maker to leave you alone. Suddenly, the candles blow out. A timer starts, and you notice that the ceiling - which is gradually lowering - is lined with needles. U-kun tries and fails to blast through the locked door, and, panicking, he finally blows up the ceiling just in time. The two of you narrowly escape, by hiding in a corner where the fallen needles cannot reached.

You wake up in the bungalow, and U-kun notices that your hand has been scraped by the needles from the dream (i.e. if you had died in the dream, you would have died for real). U-kun kisses you wound and apologises for not being able to protect you with his powers. Then he tells you to keep awake for the next few hours, to avoid any bad 'after-effects' of the dream.

In the daytime, your class go hiking, and the two of you drop rank and stumble upon an open space in the woods. U-kun *generously* offers his knees for you to lay your head and make up your sleep from last night. Awwww~~~ (dies from kyun).

As you fall asleep, he kisses your lips to taste what kind of dream you are having. Just then, he senses a strong demonic force nearby...

That night, the two of you once again enter the recurrent 'nightmare'. U-kun asks the dream-maker why it's doing this to you, and the bloody writing on the wall appears again: 「ここから出られるかな」 ...Ya'll start running, but find that every room in the house is the exact same. Cloth appears and tie up both your bodies, and U-kun cuts them off with his powers, causing everything to return to peace and quiet.

U-kun immediately possesses your body to comfort you. He remembers back when the entire baku race died before his eyes, and vows to protect his loved ones and never let that happen again. Just then, he senses some uncertainty coming from the dream-maker, as you have remained unafraid despite repeated threats. Insert *inspirational speech* about how you are a fearless #sassygirl and u gonna get to the bottom of dis shit.

...You wake up back in the bungalow. U-kun is wondering if you have successfully escaped, and if your next 'nightmare' will be fatal, when he notices that you are actually holding a f-ing candle from the 'dream'. It's impossible to take objects out of a dream, which means that... OMG that is no f-ing dream!!! The horror house exists in reality. Dun-dun-DUN.

The two of you trek back to the open space from the previous day. There is an info sign that you missed before, of a hospital that was torn down around 100 years ago. The lingering spirits from this place must be kidnapping people in the dead of night and making it look like a 'nightmare'.

Over a century ago, a natural disaster caused many people to be admitted to this hospital. However, the treatment did not seem to be working, and their moans of pain could be heard every night. After the hospital was demolished, word spread of people living nearby being trapped in nightmares of this hospital: the rumours of the 'Escape Game', one of the Seven Wonders.

So, the mystery is finally revealed. The 'nightmare' is the work of the demon which has been spawned by the pain and anguish of the patients of this hospital. Demons are formed from the strong emotions of people, and this demon takes the shape of the hospital building.

To stop the threat to any more innocent lives, U-kun decides to destroy this demon... by himself. He reveals that he has felt known from the beginning that a love between a baku and a human would experience untraversable obstacles, and he would undertake all the pain to give you happiness.

*Of course* you could never be happy if anything happened to him, so you insist to tag along. He warns that he could be wrong and you might both die. But your reply gives him strength, he thanks you and apologises for trying to be the lone hero. And with that, you are off into the belly of the shark--!!!

Once again, you land in the horror house after falling asleep. U-kun announces to the demon that he knows its true form - that the knife attacks were actually surgical knives, the needles were for injection, and the cloths were bandages. His correct predictions send the demon into a state of panic once again. It sends out more surgical knives, which U-kun shields you from.

Turns out, the bloody writing on the wall is not an escape challenge, but rather an honest question: 「ここから出られるかな」 ('Can WE get out of here?'). The demon is not an embodiment of pain and anguish, but rather born out of hope, continually searching for someone who can reassure the patients that they will recover and be discharged from this place.

In the climax, he tells the demon that it can cut the two of you with a gajillion medical instruments, but it will never break your spirits. That the demon can be saved, and that is why you are here: to save it.

...

You are transported back in time to when the hospital was still running: patients lying in their beds, their faces distorted from the frightening dreams they are having every night. U-kun decides to help them by eating all their nightmares - to restore their happiness in the midst of despair, just like you did for him when he thought he had lost it all.

After eating all the patients' nightmares, their fears become soothed, and the dream-demon can be laid to rest eternally. The two of you wake up back in the open space, and it looks exactly the same as before. U-kun asks you if he actually managed to change anything, and you tell him: regardless of whether he did, the most important thing is to have faith.

Soon, it will be dawn. Cherry blossoms fall like snow from the surrounding trees, as if the patients are waving goodbye.

[Epilogue] The legend of the 'Escape Room Game' has changed: When the casualties of the disaster were moaning in the hospital at night, a baku came and saved them from their nightmares and soothed their fears. But whether all of them recovered and made it out of the hospital is anyone's guess.

At the end, U-kun thanks you for wishing for his happiness, and he now believes that he can find happiness too - together with you, of course!! *KISS*

#otome #drama cd #rejet #yuugen romantica #yuroma #youkai #baku #utashiro #seiyuu #kimura ryohei #hatenkou #alternate history #nightmare #high school #joshikousei

120 notes · View notes

tessatechaitea · 5 years

Text

New Titans #113

In Dick Grayson's memories, Starfire and Cyborg were Christ figures while Aqualad spent 100% of his time trying to suck his own dick.

When my beloved cat Pelafina died a few months ago at eighteen years old, my eulogy was simply this: "She was the best gift I was ever given." And then the Non-Certified Spouse just sent me a picture of some Lobo socks that our friend Xan wants to give me and I just said, "Now Pelafina was the second best gift I was ever given!" Just in case anybody was wondering just how dedicated I am to my hyperbolic love of Lobo!

How do I show these off? Shorts while wearing long socks?! How gauche!

And just for comparison so you can truly understand the infinite limits of my hyperbolic nature which can declare those socks better than Pelafina, here is Pelafina for comparison. I am not responsible for your hearts melting.

youtube

I just ordered Koji Suzuki's Loop, the third novel in the Ring saga. Spiral was so fucking yo-yo bananas that I figured they could never make a movie of it. But I was wrong, being that I think like an American and no like a Japanese. Because they audaciously made a film of it (Rasen) and I watched it a few days ago. Inexplicably, the movie remains completely true to the book. I say "inexplicably" because this is the first time I completely expected a fuck-ton of changes to the premise and the plot. I naively thought, "There is no way they're going to make a film where the curse of the video tape jumps into the journal of the reporter from the first movie because it somehow senses the report will be a more virulent mode of transmission. But then almost immediately, the virus will be all, 'You know what? What if I infect this guy and have him fuck this chick? That means I could spread to her in a much more normal virus-y way!' And because that might make the entire premise of the Ring series less supernatural because now the virus has suddenly decided to spread like a normal virus instead of like some techno-virus spawned in the dank and smelly recesses of some 4channer's basement lair, the story will have to introduce a new twist! Now the virus won't just kill! It will cause the woman infected by the virus to give birth to a clone of themselves except possessed by Sadako, the woman who climbs out of the television in The Ring. Which is a premise no movie audience would ever be expected to swallow! Especially when the plot also asks you to believe the virus can clone anybody one Earth through the Sadako clone as long as you possess their DNA and understand in vitro fertilizaion! Oh, and also the clone is birthed at the exact age the person died? Or the sample was taken? I don't know, it's all so confusing that nobody would ever make that fucking movie." So, anyway, good for you, Japan! You did it! You win again! Seriously though. How is Loop going to be any crazier than Spiral?! I can't wait to find out! This issue begins with Dick Grayson helping to rebuild the Amazon village where Kory broke up with him. He's showing some emotional growth as he contemplates the naked chest of one of the villagers, Maria-Theresa. If you're now thinking, "That's an odd name for a native of the Amazon," have you done any reading on missionaries? Whenever anybody tells me all the good religion has done for the world, my entire rebuttal is the word "Missionaries!" screamed at the top of my lungs. I've finally decided to embrace the phrase, "Brevity is the soul of wit." Why should I have to explicate my missionary argument to another grown-ass adult who should understand the whole bullshit idea of spreading their religious dogma to other cultures? How does that help anybody?! Oh wait, I forgot. It lets Jesus collect more souls so he can stick his tongue out at the devil and say, "Nyah, nyah! Hallelujah! Amen!" Dick realizes that he's been a selfish child and constantly expected Kory's emotional support for his problems while always sighing and rolling his eyes at all of Kory's problems. Which might be a step up from his paternal role model who did all of those things but to a butler because he thought women were just for fucking. Is that a step up? At least Dick was trying not to treat all women as penis cozies? At least all non-red-headed women! I've lost my train of thought. Again.

Oh yeah! Dick was learning to forget about Kory through emotional growth and new boobies.

The rebuilding of the village ends with a big celebration after getting the cross on top of the rebuilt church. That makes me super sad. How many Amazonian Rain Forest Gods were displaced due to this incursion of Christian bullshit?! I hope they become super villains. Dick loves how quickly the villagers manage to rebuild the village without somebody taking control as leader. Maria tells him, "Yeah, dumbie. Is that the right word? 'Dumbie'? Anyway, we all know what we need to do and we do it without anybody standing back and judging our every movement like some dark controlling knight!" And Dick is all, "Yeah! I wish that would work with the Titans! But how can I trust Changeling to turn into the right creature without me telling him? And how can I make sure Cyborg will synchronize using his white noise cannon while saying 'Booyah'?! And I'm just supposed to trust that Raven won't rape and impregnate everybody we meet with her father's demon babies?! Pshaw! No way!" What I'm trying to say is that Dick hasn't really fucking learned anything. At least not yet! I'm still just a few pages into his journey! Dick takes a canoe down the Amazon while contemplating his life. I think maybe Maria slipped him some hallucinogens. Although most of his thoughts are on his friends and loved ones and how they've always been there for him and how he hopes he hasn't let them down and how maybe he should celebrate those who died as heroes while none of his thoughts are about how he's lived five thousand years or how that monkey keeps looking at him or how the number three seems to connect all of reality and explain the meaning of everything and why the fuck is that monkey still looking at him and have you ever wondered why you push pause on the remote to pause a show but then can push pause again to unpause it? Like, is it its own antonym?!

Seriously though. In 113 issues, did Dick ever lead the Titans into battle? Weren't the battles all just relatives and/or old villains attacking the Titans directly, without any say from Dick? Also, I kept in the Starfire side boob for you perverts.

Dick eventually blames his self-absorption for why he was raped by Mirage. He blames himself for not realizing he was with another woman who just happened to be able to shape herself like any woman. I guess maybe when she was all, "I'm going to put this strap-on straight up your asshole, okay?" he could have wondered why Kory didn't realize she was shoving the bat-grapple gun up his ass. So, yeah, maybe it was kind of his fault. I don't think I'm victim blaming when I'm just shrugging my shoulders and letting the stupid victim blame his stupid self. Some son of the world's greatest detective he turned out to be! He couldn't even tell his dick was in the wrong vagina! Dick's navel gazing causes him to plummet off of a waterfall which pretty much sums up his entire situation over the last hundred or so issues. I'm not sure if Marv Wolfman meant for it to be the case but I guess I have to assume that he did, no matter how much I don't want to. Oh, also, he doesn't die. He just has a revelation as he falls that maybe he didn't cause Jericho's death or Terra's death or Cyborg's death or Kole's death or Danny Chase's death or whatever other Titan deaths I'm forgetting since there have been so many. Also maybe Kole didn't die. She might just have been super boring. At the end of Dick's journey, the Narrator declares, "Dick Grayson was once The Boy Wonder. But today he has become a man!" Maybe this was the beginning of the end of my hatred of Dick Grayson! Marv was all, "I'm done writing Dick Grayson as the angry kid trying to live up to Batman's legend! From now on, he'll be his own man, compassionate and thoughtful!" Also, maybe Marv just continued to write him as a bitter asshole and I was right not to like Dick Grayson until the 21st Century. The prologue features Starfire on a satellite in a garden throwing a snake back to Earth from orbit. Maybe she's the one on hallucinogens? New Titans #113 Rating: C. I like that Dick Grayson supposedly grew up in this issue but I'm not sure how he really changed. The entire premise that he considered his life and what he should be doing distracted him from the waterfall ahead was just Dick repeating all of his life's errors. But somehow this time, he had a revelation? Whatever, Marv! I guess I just have to accept when you tell me through the narration boxes that Dick is now a man!

#Teen Titans #New Titans #DC Comics #DC #Comic Book Review

4 notes · View notes

corruptedspacecore · 7 years

Photo

Honestly, posts like this make me want to throw up. The problem is this isn’t just some touchy-feely thing. These people actually believe in literal magic. All that magical quantum energy astrological tarot healing witchy psychic fairy crap. Hey, I suppose that’s all well and good if you want to just take an 11th-century approach to the world, when humans couldn’t be bothered to actually figure out how anything worked. Or...

- Maybe that feeling is just emotions, sentimental or otherwise, which affect your perception of sensations, which are processed in your brain. If you feel strongly about books and antiques, being around them might make you feel differently. The same applies to “haunted” places. If you think a place is haunted, you’ll probably feel very strange. It’s the power of your brain’s ability to trick you.

- There’s probably a reason. Maybe it’s something you unconsciously remember, or that appeals to your brain somehow, or that looks nice, or maybe you’re just curious.

- Who wouldn’t get inner peace looking up at the night sky? Space is full of wonders. Everything you see, you see as it looked in the past because it takes so long for the light to get here. That’s how vast the distances are. Some things you see as they looked before there were humans on Earth. Not to mention all the other amazing things out there. And forests are nice. Again, they’re feelings. Humans spent eons looking at the sky, it’s no wonder we feel connected to it.

- While “Fairy Circles” have long been difficult to pin down as to what may cause them, here’s one theory: “...The distinct vegetation patterns are a population-level consequence of competition for scarce water, as the plants "organise" themselves to maximise access to scarce resources. The circular barren patches capture water which then flows to the outer edges of the ring. More water available increases biomass and roots which leads to the soil becoming looser. The less dense soil allows more water to penetrate and feed the vegetation, creating a feedback loop supporting the plants at the edge of the circle.”

- Emotions and pleasant stimuli again. Not magic.

- Once again, probably emotions. But at the same time, thunderstorms tend to involve lightning, and lightning is created by the building of charged particles in the air. In other words, energy. But that ain’t magic.

- That... that’s just a tall tree. Maybe it got a little more water or sun than the others, or better nutrients in that spot.

- I’m sure burning some stuff smells nice, which will trigger pleasant emotions. Some of it might clear the sinuses. Some of it might actually make you feel better via their chemicals. In any case, not magic.

- Butterflies don’t appear out of nowhere, you just notice them, usualyl when nearby or in your face. No butterly, or anything for that matter, has been observed to come out of nowhere. That does not happen. Just because you don’t notice something right away, that doesn’t mean it’s magic.

All those and other things are just minor little things about the world. They’re feelings, observations, curiosities, emotions, and more. We already know or have a good idea of why many of these things happen, and how. And we know how the brain works, generally. How it’s able to trick us, how it can be stimulated, how it can affect how we perceive the world and sensations. Whatever the causes of any of these and other things may be, we’ll figure it out by actually studying them and the world around us, not standing around saying it’s magic. And just because we don’t have an absolute answer, that doesn’t mean it’s magic.

This kind of stuff, magical thinking, annoys me so much because it throws us back to a stone-age way of understanding the world, or a lack of understanding. When you decide something is magic based on practically no evidence at all, what good does that do? Humanity mostly left magical thinking behind, and we’ve come a long way. Should we have kept trying to treat diseases with spells and prayer, or beheading people because we thought there was a deity to please?

But of course, humanity can’t let go. We’ve been saddled with magical thinking in the form of many religions and cults still, and now there are people all over who fancy themselves capable of working magic, who trust unproven, often disproven, and sometimes dangerous alternative medicines. People who are being fleeced by so-called psychics who prey on the gullible while collecting their cash. People who still think astrology is a thing that works.

See, if any of this works, it’s not going to be magic. “Magic” has never been the conclusion of any study or scientific endeavour. Even if astrology were real, it was work for some physical reason. If ghosts were real, that would be a very real part of the cosmos. If magic spells worked, it would be by some fascinating physical means. In my view, calling it magic, or supernatural, is a cop-out. It’s a way of having to avoid doing any real work to figure out the world, to avoid having to really think about things. It cheapens reality, and it cheapens the true splendor of the cosmos.

We thought lightning was magic. Then we figured out how it works. We thought volcanoes were angry lava gods. Then we figured out the internal structure of the earth and how it works. We thought various mental conditions were posessions and other entities. Then we founded psychology. We thought the Earth was a unique, special place. Then we discovered a far more complex universe full of so many stars, planets, and moons, who knows what wonders are on them. We marveled at those stones that appeared to slide themselves across salt flats. Was it magic? No, it was ice sheets that formed and dragged the rocks along. That’s even more interesting than just saying magic. Whatever causes fairy circles, I bet it’s pretty neat.

Look, I’m not saying there aren’t strange things that happen. There are so many incredible things out there yet to be discovered or understood. But we’re not going to understand them by chalking it up to magic. It’s a pointless term, a useless concept. As for science, it’s not a static body of knowledge, but a method for figuring things out, a tool. And already it’s helped us to find out so many amazing things that we never would have known if we stayed huddled in our churches, reciting scripture and burning witches. There’s superstition, and there’s the real world. I prefer the real world, as revealed by the endeavor of science, by the unquenchable curiosity of people who were not content to stop at “magic.”

Light rays, photons, don’t have mass. They travel at incredibly fast speeds. It’s possible for us to travel nearly as fast as light as we want. The faster we go, the more massive we get, the more energy we need to accelerate. Once we get closer to light speed, things will look so damn weird, it’s hard to explain. But we’ll never be able to go as fast as light. To do so would mean that we’d have infinite mass, and would need infinite energy. Not only that, but time would stop. From the perspective of light, their journeys, whether it’s 8 light minutes or 25,000 light years, is instantaneous. Photons can do that because they have no mass. We can’t because we have mass. While that means it’s impossible for us to go at light speed, time dilation still affects things at high speeds. It’s actually possible for us to time-travel. Just go fast enough for long enough, and when you stop, turn around, and then go fast again back to Earth, you’ll arrive hundreds, thousands, even many millions of years into Earth’s future, even though only a few years or decades will have passed for you. You could travel a good clip of the speed of light and circumnavigate the observable universe, and thanks to time dilation, it’ll only take half a century or so for you, according to the clocks on your ship. But when you get back to earth, the Sun and Earth will be dead, with billions of years having passed. This effect is felt even by our satellites. When you use your GPS to find your way to the nearest magic gathering, that GPS is only able to work because the satellites correct for time dilation, due to the speeds they orbit at. Gravity affects the flow of time, too. Time passes faster for your head than it does for your feet when you stand up.

That’s real. That's proven. That’s what we've figured out through science. It’s been demonstrated again and again through repeated experiments, and it’s well-supported by mathematics, the only branch of science where things can be absolutely proven. Mathematics, which also predicted black holes, which we eventually discovered. Black holes, which are horrifying wonders of gravity and time, where the entire mass of a star, or many stars, is squeezed into an infinitely tiny space called a singularity. Where a spherical void, the event horizon, is bigger than a solar system and pulls in even light rays. Gravity so strong that it practically stops time, and if you were to watch someone fall into the event horizon, they would appear to stop and never actually fall in, while they would see time fly by outside, as everything they’ve known closes into a tiny lens and darkness takes over.

That is far better, far more fascinating and amazing than any fairytale humans have ever conceived. It’s more incredible than any claim of magic. Without a scientific or physical context and told to a more ignorant generation of humans, it might even seem like magic. But it’s not magic. It’s real.

Finally, while I’m sure there are many potential things to list, here are but two huge things that would make me believe in magic:

- Working spells for doing things that either can’t happen naturally or that don’t happen by chance. Ones that have been tested under the most rigorous scientific standards and repeatedly demonstrated to work nearly every time, and with all other possible explanations tested and found not to work.

- Actual, real things appearing literally out of nowhere. Physical objects manifesting from thin air. Done under laboratory conditions and repeated numerous times. Bonus if this is done via an aforementioned spell or something. Captured on camera and all manner of other instrumentation, from many angles, and verified not to be fake by the best scientists.

Except, no. I still wouldn’t believe in magic, because those things wouldn’t be magic, they would be a part of our cosmos, and occur via whatever the workings of the cosmos are. If those and other extraordinary claims proved to be real, their true explanations would be far more complex and interesting than “magic.”

#personal

2 notes · View notes

lynchgirl90 · 7 years

Photo

#TwinPeaks' return wasn't just a masterpiece – it may be the most groundbreaking season of TV ever

David Lynch and Mark Frost's 25-years-later murder mystery was not only a masterpiece – it may have permanently changed the medium

When some phrases pass through the prism of Twin Peaks, you can never hear them the same way again. "Damn good coffee" is one; "Gotta light?" is another. We'll submit a third candidate, one that the just-concluded third season of David Lynch and Mark Frost's supernatural murder-mystery masterpiece has marked for permanent retirement from the critical vocabulary: "Like nothing else on television." The TV landscape remains full of singular, spectacular shows, Peak TV fatigue be damned. But just as the original Twin Peaks inspired visionary showrunners from David Chase to Damon Lindelof to create the New Golden Age, the show's revived third season may have leapfrogged them all. What we just witnessed was unmatched in the medium's history.

To explain why, it's worth digging deeper than the obvious ways in which the season broke ground: its wild shifts in mood and style, its avant-garde editing and effects, the atom bomb of an hour that was Episode Eight. Crucial to the show's success was Lynch and Frost's insistence that it wasn't a TV show at all, but a film. This isn't just about treating the season as "one film broken into 18 parts," as Lynch put it, though that's a welcome rejoinder to the voguish notion that any showrunner who thinks of their series in these terms is a pretentious doofus. Good television, like good cinema, can be made in any number of ways; Twin Peaks Season Three will become a textbook example of how a truly movie-like approach can pay off.

But just as importantly, this 18-part movie/series/whatsit fits beautifully in Lynch's overall filmography. Indeed, the more of his work you've seen, the better equipped you'll be to handle what he's throwing at you here. Particularly in its final episodes, The Returnrelies on a recursive, Möbius-strip structure, in which events echo and loop rather than proceed in straightforward fashion; these repetitions and reflections are distorted and gap-ridden enough, however, to keep the pattern intoxicatingly opaque. Not counting the aptly titled The Straight Story (a rare case in which Lynch worked from a screenplay he himself had no hand in writing), all of the director's post-Peaks prequel films – Lost Highway, Mulholland Drive, Inland Empire – are constructed in this funhouse fashion. He and Frost (and, to their eternal credit, Showtime) either trusted that their television audience would be as willing and able to keep up as the arthouse crowd, or simply did not care.

A side note here: It feels goofy to praise David Lynch for not participating in the usual back-and-forth between showrunner and viewer about the need for answers, closure and a finale that "sticks the landing," which the conclusions of The Sopranos and Lost have rendered a seemingly permanent part of the TV discourse. (It's like giving Stanley Kubrick a shoutout for resisting the temptation to create the Kubrick Cinematic Universe.) Still, even if this wasn't on the filmmaker's mind, as seems likely, it certainly was on ours. How refreshing to watch a show wholly alien to the debates that consumed the final seasons of even the most truly wonderful dramas, from Mad Men to The Leftovers. And how cool to see a series so gloriously unsuited to the era TV takes, too. After "This is the water and this is the well," didn't every article you came across with a title like "Lucy Brennan Proves David Lynch Has a Receptionist Problem" or "Dr. Jacoby's Spray-Painted Shit Shovels Would Work Much Better Using the Netflix Release Model" feel … a little small? Like, even smaller than usual?

To backtrack a bit ("What year is it?"), The Straight Story may be the anomaly in Lynch's past quarter-century of work, in terms of narrative flow, tone and his usual interest in horror and sex. Yet in a roundabout way it too provides a key to understanding what made Twin PeaksSeason Three so strong. Its story of an elderly farmer who travels by tractor on a multi-state odyssey to reconnect with his dying brother shares with several Lynch-pins with the series, namely a love of the road, western America's scenic beauty and Harry Dean Stanton.

Most importantly, the film is about aging, and the vast gulfs of space and time we don't realize we've traveled until circumstances force us to confront them. That description fits The Return like a magic ring. Both in the story and behind the scenes, the people of Twin Peaks have grown old; the men in particular, from Bobby Briggs to Deputy Hawk to Big Ed Hurley, have grayed and weathered like stone. And the litany of cast members who died between then and now is long and heartbreaking: Miguel Ferrer, Catherine E. Coulson, Warren Frost, Michael Parks, Frances Bay, Don S. Davis, Jack Nance, Frank Silva and, of course, David Bowie. (The Thin White Duke would probably be delighted to discover his character Philip Jeffries spending eternity as a gigantic steampunk teapot.)

And as much as the Black Lodge itself, aging is the source of so much of Twin Peaks' power and pain. It's not just the 25-year gap that both the audience and Agent Cooper endured. Shelly Briggs watches her daughter Becky fall prey to an abusive husband just as she did as a teenager – while she herself has unwittingly fallen back into a pattern of attraction to "bad boys" with her own new boyfriend, a mysterious and malevolent drug dealer. The Log Lady is dying of cancer, just like Sheriff Harry S. Truman, stranded offscreen as the saga moves on without him. Audrey Horne is trapped, frightened and alone, in a limbo we may never learn the truth about; she was likely raped by the doppelganger of the man she saw as a hero. Coop himself is doomed to repeat his pattern of almost but not quite saving the day, supremely confident until the very moment he realizes he's blown it again.

Even as an older, living woman, Laura Palmer is forever linked to the house of horrors where she grew up. And her mother Sarah … well, God only knows what's been eating away at her (or through her) all those years. Even America itself is still paying for the sins unleashed by the bomb, itself just the most symbolically resonant manifestation of the country's power to destroy. Sure, Big Ed Hurley may have gotten his happy ending with Norma Jennings, but his forlorn face several episodes earlier as he contemplates the wreck of his life could well be the face of the whole season.

Twin Peaks: The Return was a dazzling work of filmmaking. But unlike its jittering cameras, flashing lights, billowing smoke and ambient whooshing and whirring, its emotional foundations were rock solid. We may marvel at the cosmos Lynch and Frost created – a universe of vast purple oceans, towering metal fortresses, billowing red curtains and infinite fields of stars. We may spend another 25 years attempting to puzzle out Audrey's location, the glass box's bankroller, the true identity of "Judy" and what, exactly, became of the girl with the bug in her mouth. But there's nothing ethereal or mysterious about abuse, trauma and the irresistible death-march of time. That part of Twin Peaks, the part that counts most, is as clear as your reflection in the mirror.

link (TP)

#Twin Peaks #Rolling Stone #David Lynch #Mark Frost #Kyle MacLachlan #Sheryl Lee

24 notes · View notes

jose2534 · 7 years

Text

Samurai Jack Ending

My opinion of why the ending of Samurai Jack isn’t that good:

First of: If Ashi, and the world of Samurai Jack, is constrain by time space continuum, then the paradox that Jack and Ashi creates when traveling back in time to destroy Aku is just nuts. Imagine: Aku send Jack in to the future; then Aku is defeated by Jack, who came back thanks to Akus daughter; then Ashi, because Aku is dead, doesn’t born at all and cease existing; but Jack came back in time thanks to Ashi, so how is that he is not expelled from the past back to the future? In the scenario that it’s presented to us Jack would have never knew her because she never existed, so he never get back to the past from the future thanks to her, and Aku still lives and we just destroy space time continuum because they all get stuck in an infinite loop that repeat the last moment forever.

It would have been better to:

A) Separate the time lines: Jack goes back from time X to time Y, therefor Ashi can still exist because she is not tied to Time but to her own existence; Aku could still be destroy in all the timelines because he is a supernatural entity not constrained be time or space at all, he is like a Semi-God, but can die and he died indeed in the last episode of SJ. At the ending we should have a wedding, Jack and Ashy are happily married, and the future that Jacks was in still exist and has to heal itself with effort and hard work from their inhabitants.

B) Release Ashy and the world of Jack from the Time-Space continuum cliché: Just give her and Jack a happy ending, this is not TTGL or need to have time travel theories to justify the death or disappearance of a character!!! Jack shouldn’t even have had an adventure in the future if at the same time Aku was being killed.

C) Jack shouldn’t have come back to the past, he should have stay in the future and defeated Aku there, releasing himself from the guilt of his family and timeline death, realizing that he was not hunting Aku because he wanted, but because it was the order of his father and mother long gone. With this knowledge he goes to hunt down what He really wants, and thus he reshape the future world in to a place of good, while being happy with his new wife.

D) Jack should release/revive Aku in the last episode, he is so overcome with grief that he turns his back to everybody and everything, this way we have the time space back in order.

E) The Gods (and correct me if I’m wrong) just want Aku to die, Jack was the only one with the objective to go back to the past, the Gods were just “Yeah, yeah, finish OUR work, were really too comfortable in paradise”. So Jack should have grown up and change his objective.

#samurai jack #sj #samurai jack sj #samurai jack ending #ending #genndy tartakovsky #Aku #Ashi #Jack

1 note · View note

bliphany · 8 years

Text

Fanfiction Rec Day - Whouffaldi

Whouffaldi fics means a lot to me not only because they were the reason I started to read stories written in English, but also because many of they helped me through all the angst of Doctor Who series 9. Clara and the Doctor’s last era wouldn’t be the same to me, if I hadn’t had their company.

Here are some stories that will remain in my memory and even Time Lord's device won't change that. I chose to include some of the writer’s tags just fyi, please still read the original tags per your preference.

(not in particular order)

we tried the world and it wasn’t for us; by twelveclara

She studies him, a gentle smile on her face. Her eyes are warm and he decides he no longer believes in science, or logic; there’s a light that comes from within her, like she has a sun for a heart; she wisps around, glittering, and her shadows are moonbeams. She drips dark matter and stardust. “If I were human,” he says, “the likelihood that I would exist at the same time as you is slim - unaccountably, unbearably slim - that it’s a risk I could never imagine taking.” [clara and twelve and philosophy; the paradox of love, and, as clara says, she’s an english teacher. there are too many words. 4,200 words.]

sometime around midnight by twelveclara

He struggles between making poetry out of her body and telling her the truth: it’s a difficult combination, needing her to know and needing it to be beautiful. She says, breathless in wonderment, “Oh, the amount of things that had to happen in order for me to be standing here at all.“ [midnight in paris au. 20k words. butterflies in summer; his bones on fire. a writer and his muse. they’re making history.]

Tidal Wave by samchandler1986

Words:5268; Chapters:3/3

This time, it really is their last hurrah.

if anybody could have saved me it would have been you by twelveclara

He spends the night threading stars into her skin and pouring the moon into the craters of her hips; she watches the birth of deep space begin unfolding underneath her eyelids, and the universe is returned to beauty once again. Together, he believes, they could be the greatest story ever told; if only she would come back to him. [an impossible decision and its consequences; she never wanted to live forever. timelady!clara au. in 12 parts. 6k words.]

some mad hope by twelveclara

He’d almost forgotten they were still out there, scattered across the stars and solar systems and galaxies, waiting for him. Ghosts. A curse. She’s gone, but she’s not gone. She’ll follow him forever. The idea enthralls him. Please, he thinks, haunt me to death. “You love her,” she says quietly. [on his way to revenge, he finds answers. maybe they’re not much better. maybe they are. a hell bent alternative ending. hybrid au, 6k words, in 10 parts.]

a theory about us and the universe by twelveclara

“Call it a paradigm shift,” he responds finally, low and delicate. “The Cybermen and their upgrades, the Time Lords and their time machines; you, alive and standing in front of me.” He stops being able to separate idealism and reality, allowing himself a world in which time watches the way he touches her and thinks,finally, you’ve done enough. [post-hell bent, and simultaneously, pre-magician’s apprentice. some people are much harder to tear apart once they’ve been brought together. based off this theory of mine. 10.6k words]

Love Me Like You Mean it by xXdreameaterXx

Words: 52343; Chapters: 37/37

1959. Dr John Smith moves to Texas with one goal in mind: to start over and forget about his past. When he meets Clara Oswin Oswald, a waitress and an outcast with a whole lot of buried dreams he thinks that she might be just what he needs to give his life some meaning. Diner AU. Rated E for later chapters. Whouffaldi.

Orpheus's Rescue by peacockgirl

Words: 34120; Chapters: 4/5; Major Character Death; Face The Raven; Hell Bent

For everyone who liked the poignancy of Hell Bent & Face the Raven but wished for better for Clara and the Doctor. Clara has resolved to visit 101 more places before she dies, but after she discovers the Doctor has lied about losing his memories, will he really be able to let her go? Whouffaldi

The Box Would be Empty by capildissexy

Words:2174; Chapters: 1/1 Major Character Death

Twelve/Clara discuss her mortality. Inspired by the heavy foreshadowing of Clara's life coming to an untimely end.

Oceans of Me and You by laekanik

Words: 1468; Chapters: 1/1

"I'll be the judge of time," and what followed after.

Suited and Booted by levendis

Words: 596; Chapters: 1/1

On the red velvet coat. (Set during "Face the Raven")

Spring Cleaning by levendis

Words: 672; Chapters: 1/1

The box of annoying things. Post-"Hell Bent"

Ways to Make it Through the Wall by levendis

Words: 1946; Chapters: 1/1

Those who can't figure out their mistakes are doomed to repeat them: The Doctor, the Axis, and an infinite amount of chances to screw up all over again. Post-"Hell Bent"

the man who fell to earth by jontinf

Words: 3846; Chapters: 1/1

“Is she your beloved? This Clara Oswald of Blackpool.”

He nearly slices off the tip of his thumb and throws a suspicious glance Bors’s way. “Are you ill, Bors?” he asks. “Have you come down with a case of the bloody flux?”

bones on fire by kissmeinnewyork

Words: 1238; Chapters: 1/1

There are a million different wars he could wage and a million different stars he could burn, but instead he carries on. (post face the raven.)

Absence in a Vacuum (Where is the Feedback?) by midnightxgarden

Words: 4339; Chapters: 1/1 Hell Bent

Clara made some promises when she took a TARDIS and ran away, but does a frozen heart ever heal? (aka the story of how accidents bring the Doctor and Clara back together in spite of what the universe demands)

That Subtle Knot by antennapedia

Words: 1473; Chapters: 1/1 Hell Bent

The Doctor tells his story, then reaches out to touch the waitress's hand. And freezes.

Hiding by xXdreameaterXx

Words: 893; Chapters: 1/1

They never do it in the TARDIS, or her flat. It's like they're different people out there while they're running, like it doesn't even count, like it never really happens at all.

clara/twelve fic: history, like love by twelveclara

There are planets orbiting her eyes and her mouth tastes like the ocean; in her head she hears a shatter, like her soul has pried her ribs apart in a desperate, aching attempt to reach his. “If I could have picked anybody,” he murmurs, “it would have been you.” [these words hurt as much as the truth always does. a soulmates/new girl (but you need no knowledge of new girl, i just took the ‘roommates’ plot) au. 15k words.]

Things We Don't Say by c1araoswa1d

Words: 1977; Chapters: 1/1

Prompt: At the end of Deep Breath, we hear say, “I’m not your boyfriend,” but then the Doctor has to admit to himself he does have feelings for Clara.

One of Us has to Remember by whouffaldigarbage

Words: 2075; Chapters: 1/1

In a moment of panic at the end of time, just before he prepares to wipe Clara's memory, the Doctor goes back in time to Clara Oswald, alive and well. Before she died. Before she lost her pulse. When she was just his Clara. Turns out he's not the only one who misses what they used to be.

Physicians and Phonographs by whouffaldigarbage

Words: 55212; Chapters: 17/17

A Victoran AU. Clara is a maid overseeing the children of a large estate. Struggling with her own desire for freedom and the suitors pursuing her, she feels a profound lack of something in her life. One day, circumstances out of her control lead her to require the services of the mysterious and ostracized Doctor, and a friendship grows between them that leads to something more. Demons from their past come back with a vengeance, society seeks to tear them apart, the supernatural rears its ugly head, and their future stands on the precipice of extinction. Together or alone they could face it all, but the choice is not a simple one.

Rated M for future chapters. Slow burn fic. Angst, humor, the supernatural, and stuffy Victorian romance, with a dash of the original tale of Beauty and the Beast.

i live to let you shine by freloux

Words: 1125; Chapters: 1/1

Blanket fort ridiculousness.

Good Days by samchandler1986

Words: 1211; Chapters: 1/1

He said he never forgets a face. Now, neither does she.

basil and cleopatra by jontinf

Words: 13891; Chapters: 2/2 Hell Bent

Clara and the Doctor if they'd never stopped running.

The Thief by antennapedia

Words: 9679; Chapters: 1/1 Death in Heaven

The Doctor just smashed up the TARDIS console, but he needs to get away from there. He shoves his fingers into the telepathic matrix and goes... somewhere. He doesn't care where. The TARDIS cares, however. This is what happened in between the visit to Gallifrey and the meeting in the cafe.

The Hypervodka Incident by antennapedia

Words: 12086; Chapters: 4/?

There’s some karaoke. And hypervodka. And consequences.

In Your Place by lornesgoldenhair

Words: 7930; Chapters: 1/1 Hell Bent

After years of travelling with Ashildr Clara decides to return to Gallifrey and her own timeline but attempts to Face The Raven fail and she is left in limbo, unresponsive, unable to live or die. Chased by Reapers and Time Lords Ashildr knows only one person can help them now, but can she risk reuniting Clara with him? With paradoxes and rifts opening, Reapers attacking and all hell breaking loose will Clara close the loop and sacrifice herself or will the Doctor take the place of a woman he has forgotten?

The Man That Once Was by xXdreameaterXx

Words: 7802; Chapters: 4/4

The Doctor has reigned Gallifrey as Lord President since the Time War. Driven mad by power he has one goal in mind: the utter and absolute extinction of the Daleks. Until one day a seemingly ordinary human girl attempts to steal his most precious possession just to bring a little hope to the entire universe.

Being Human 101 : Lessons in Physiology by lornesgoldenhair

Words: 21240; Chapters: 9/9

This is set in the universe created by 'In Your Place' wherein Clara gets her heartbeat back after the Doctor sacrifices himself to the Raven, but being a Time Lord with a special connection to his companion, he survives. You don’t have to have read it to read this. The two are different in style too.

In Summary : Clara having been frozen between one heartbeat and the next has to relearn how her body works. Everything from sleeping to processing alcohol, eating to sex, its all hazy to her after 400 years but the Doctor is on hand to help her discover what he describes as 'the fun a working body can lead to.'

Rated M for later Chapters.

A bit of an experimental work in progress.

dim the lights some, whisky lemon by dorothymcshane

Words: 2360; Chapters: 1/1

”Shut up, Oswald.” ”Make me.” In response he turns her around and pins her to the shelf. She gasps, unprepared for losing her control over him so abruptly, and more than a little turned on. ”My pleasure,” he says, his voice seductively husky, and slides her skirt up to place a hand between her legs.

Communicate by xXdreameaterXx

Words: 1253; Chapters: 1/1

The TARDIS translation circuit is broken. The Doctor doesn't speak English. But there are three words that the two of them still understand perfectly despite their communication failure. Twelve & Clara.

All Inclusive by xXdreameaterXx

Words: 34335; Chapters: 21/21

When his sister Missy convinces him to go on a cruise the Doctor has no idea that she is sending him on a party & singles cruise, determined to find him a match. It's even more of a surprise to him when he wakes up the morning after a party and realizes he is married to the annoying woman who vomited on his shoes on the first evening. But all will be well and the marriage can be annulled back on land – as long as he and Clara don't consummate it. Whouffaldi AU.

Running Out Of Pages by UniverseOnHerShoulders

Words: 2589; Chapters: 1/1

Somehow, their evenings always come to this: Clara doing her marking, while the Doctor sits idly beside her and tries to avoid doing anything his companion might deem to be "annoying." So he's surprised when she asks him for background noise while she works - although of course, there are stipulations...

Double shot, and extra hot by redpandanormalpanda

Words: 2346

AU when your OTP are both assholes - the Whouffaldi version. ‘I’m a barista and you’re the obnoxious customer who comes through and orders a venti macchiato while talking on the phone the whole time so I misspell your name in increasingly creative ways every day’

The Edge of the World by infinite_regress

Words: 2262; Chapters: 1/1

The Doctor remembers Clara, his memories return in a flood, and he makes some questionable choices. Luckily Clara is there to pick up the peices

Bookends by samchandler1986

Words: 529 Chapters: 1/1

As the Earth orbits the sun one more time, as the calendar edges closer to counting another year of her brief life, it’s a time for renewal. Like a mini-regeneration. And unlike the TARDIS, Clara’s wardrobe is resolutely finite.

Like Stars by c1araoswa1d

Words: 2050; Chapters: 1/1

Twelve and Clara have a quiet evening of babysitting.

but we're so happy (WIP) by twelveclara

part one: “I knew them both,” Jack says quietly. “I watched them fall in love. I watched them change.” Their knees touch, and her hand is on his thigh, and he’s smiling at her like she’s the sole reason he’s alive; Rory pictures the sun and the earth, orbiting. [punk rock au. from the outside looking in. the song repeats, I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, haunting him. so, maybe he’ll never know. 10k words]

part two: Nobody has ever kissed her like this in her entire life; she swears she’s spent years building up to this, decades, millenniums. Somewhere, a star is dying and a galaxy is being born and her head is a black hole; in every other dimension a version of her stops and takes in a breath, missing something. She says hotly, “If we’re already going to hell, you might as well just fuck me tonight.” [punk rock au. she’s the devil herself and he never stood a chance. 27k words. mature.]

#whouffaldi #whouffle #ficrecdays #whouffaldi fanfiction rec #clara oswald #12th doctor #bless all the fanfiction writers #show: we’re all stories in the end #long post

15 notes · View notes

alternativetodiscourse · 8 years

Note

If I were caught in a Groundhog Day-esque loop on a Shabbos, would I be required to keep Shabbos in every cycle? Every seventh cycle? Am I yotzei if I only do it once?

Okay, I haven’t actually seen Groundhog Day sorry not sorry, so I’m going to make the following assumptions:

that you know the day is repeating, but no one else does, and,

you can interact with other people.

Also, for our convenience,

the time loop encompasses all of Shabbat.

Okay, so with that in mind, if Shabbat repeats itself, do you have to observe it every time? The TL;DR version is: I don’t know, I found arguments on both sides of the issue, but it seems reasonable to think that you only need to keep every seventh day, but must appear to be keeping every day in public. However, for a more in-depth look:

I’m using the situation of the international date line, which is a 24-hour jump in time zone so that you can’t just infinitely “go back in time” circling the globe, as a precedent, since it deals with cases where you could in theory repeat Shabbat.

According to the Star-K,

Repeating or skipping a day by crossing the Dateline poses various concerns in many aspects of halacha… mitzvos that are dependent on the day of the week or month are affected by crossing the Dateline.

The question then becomes: is Shabbat dependent on the day of the week? This sounds like a no-brainer, but it could also be that it’s based on counting days. That is, we had a Shabbat, and every seventh day – no matter what day of the week that is – we have another.

Indeed, that’s what chabad.org seems to say:

the manna [did] not fall on the Shabbat… we have continued to keep count and will continue to do so for the rest of time…

[Another explanation, given by Rabbi Yehuda HaLevi, is:] When Adam was banished from Eden on the first Friday afternoon of Creation, he rested that first Shabbat. He then counted six days and again rested on the seventh. Ever since, his offspring in many parts of the world have emulated this practice, living their lives by a seven-day week.

Either way, Shabbat is based on counting from an objective past Shabbat. In the Groundhog Day scenario, days are passing, and so it seems that you’d only observe every seventh day in your looped world.

But wait! That’s not how we do things! You keep Shabbat based on what’s happening where you are. In that case, you do have to keep Shabbat every day of the time loop.

Now, that’s obviously not a tenable situation. Shabbat is supposed to be a taste of the world to come, but like, not something you should be experiencing all the time while alive. (Thanks to @animatedamerican for pointing this out: you’re specifically supposed to work for six days and rest on the seventh, it’s like, part of the verse.)

Interestingly, the International Date Line is different than the halachic date line. Halachic authorities have recognized the need for a date line since Rabbi Yehuda HeLevi in the 1000s, and they’ve established it in different places, because of the halachic principle that Agreeing On Things Is No Fun.

There are three separate opinions on where the date line is, then, but then, according to chabad.org, there’s one last opinion, that

Sabbath observance is based on an existing Jewish community. If a traveler or tourist were to arrive on an island with no Jewish community, the traveler would continue to keep the Sabbath according to [their] individual count, as if still on a boat.

(This view might be problematic - for example, sanctification of the moon requires a bet din but Shabbat is sanctified by Hashem. Still, let’s roll with it.)

Hah! While this is a minority opinion, I think it’s reasonable to say we’re in a situation where we can rely on leniencies, because time is repeating what the frick. I’m going to make some stuff up and assume that you fit this model (you’re traveling through time, and no one’s going with you, so you’re alone, or the people aren’t aware of what’s going on and thus don’t count because Reasons, or whatever). Thus, you’d want to keep every seventh day as Shabbat.

Alternately, according to the Star-K:

[Due to the placement of one halachic date line], it may be possible for those who want two days of Shabbos to walk one block eastbound, down Dongfeng Street, after Seuda Shlishis and start Shabbos again. Those who want to skip almost all of Shabbos could take a short stroll westbound, and go from sunset Friday to sunset Saturday. However, halacha does not allow for such a situation. Instead, we consider the eastern land masses tafel (secondary) to the western land masses of these same continents. (emphasis mine)

Based on this, it seems that halacha does not allow us to skip or repeat Shabbat. That could be another argument for keeping Shabbat every seventh day of the time loop.

Still, it’s obvious that there’s a safek, a doubt. You should probably keep all the lo ta’aseh (negative commandments, “don’t do this”) that are d’oraita (rather than rabbinical), as is recommended by the Star-K for if you’re in a place where majority opinion states you’re on one side of the halachic date line and minority opinion states otherwise.

Additionally, assuming you are surrounded by a community, if you do not keep Shabbat on six out of the seven days but everyone else is keeping Shabbat, you will appear to be violating Shabbat. A good precedent for this case if you’d like to look into details is someone who lives in Israel and does not keep the second day of Yom Tov who is visiting outside of Israel for a Yom Tov.

I would conclude that you should keep every seventh day of the time loop as Shabbat, but not violate any of the negative d’oraita commandments, and at the very least appear to be keeping Shabbat in public. However, there are a lot of complexities to this case that I might be missing. Feel free to argue with me!

(Follow me for more speculative halacha, Jewish supernatural stuff, and Jewish memes!)

#jumblr #shabbat #time travel #ask #gorblax

88 notes · View notes