#this is SO “demon who says he wants your first born but doesn’t specify who the father is going to be coded | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queenlilith43 · 3 years

Text

The Eldest Curses

So we know of the eldest curses. We know they are the oldest child of a Prince of Hell. But what do they do? What powers do they hold? And how far do they have to fall?

In this post I'll go over some theories and all the information we know about them, confirmed eldest curses, and their respective parents.

I'm sorry if my hate for Asmodeus comes out, but as my friend @patalliumapples said, "You hate Asmodeus so much and it’s so funny to me. Like I hate him too but it seems like he personally murdered your family and it’s so funny."

Tags: @apple-bottom-jeansx @the-blackdale @murderbabies @unorganisedbookshelf @revati3008 @patalliumapples @tenacioushubb @hardlymatters @pjo-tsc-trc-otherthingstoo if you gave me a theory idea you'll be tagged later in the post.

What We Know

Eldest curses are the oldest children of any given Prince of Hell at a moment. So if a Prince of Hell has seven kids alive, the oldest one will be his eldest curse. However, this is unlikely, because they die easily. The magic is too much for them to handle.

There are two confirmed eldest curses living right now: Magnus Bane and Tessa Gray.

Magnus Bane

Age: Anywhere between 380-400 years old

Parent: Asmodeus

Powers: He's very powerful, but any specific powers based on his demon parent? Not really. Unless you count sexy as a power.

Contact with Demon Parent: Magnus has met Asmodeus several times. He summoned him when he was very young, and the regretted it. Then there was the Crimson Hand, his little demon-worshipping cult. Magnus ran into Asmodeus again in The Red Scrolls of Magic and City of Heavenly Fire, but hasn't been under his sway . . . Yet.

Tessa Gray

Age: 147-ish, born in 1862

Parent: Belial

Powers: Tessa, being half Shadowhunter, is special. She doesn't have many regular warlock powers, but she can shapeshift into anyone she likes. However, after absorbing the power of the angel Ithuriel, it's harder for her to change. It's also not a good idea for her to shapeshift when she's pregnant, as found out in Ghosts of the Shadow Market.

Contact with Demon Parent: She has not talked with Belial. Her children, James and Lucie, have had contact several times throughout the Last Hours, but she herself has not talked to Belial. Belial did consider possessing her, but between Ithuriel protecting her and his sexism, it's unlikely.

The Other Stuff

Eldest curses are supposed to be powerful. They're literally demon royalty, and Magnus and Tessa's uncle is Lucifer. Just think on that.

So I'm just gonna talk about some stuff Asmodeus brought up in The Red Scrolls of Magic. I was going to analyze some quotes but it just was taking me too long and I was getting too angry at Asmodeus. My solution is to just do a brief summary of what he said.

Eldest curses have some powers. We don't what, but I can gather they were made to rule. (On iron thrones as Asmodeus said, which is very specific)

And Asmodeus sure loves his. Why? Because he's a manipulative son of a bitch that's why. (The hate is strong right now.)

Asmodeus has had a lot of kids, because he's the demon of lust, but Magnus is very powerful. He's strong, and Asmodeus wants to mess with him to take control of him.

And now onto the theories!

Theories

And the crackpot clowning starts here.

@the-blackdale came up with the theory that some ✨ necromancy ✨ will be in order and Magnus dies at some point, but comes back to life in TBVOTD.

@murderbabies suggested that to summon Lucifer needs blood to be summoned. Blood of an eldest curse, most likely, because we know warlock blood has some powers. I really don't think it would rivers of blood, but enough to draw a small sigil. (As we know from Chain of Iron all the Princes have a sigil that might be used to summon them.)

@patalliumapples and I have the headcanon Raynor is actually Sammael's son, but it's unlikely to actually be canon. Still, a nice thought.

I think Aldous Nix, the warlock from The Bane Chronicles who making a Portal to Pandemonium, is an eldest curse. Maybe Belphegor. He is dead now, but before that, he was at least 1000 years old. That was before Sammael did his little Incursion thing, and that means there had to be a very powerful demon to get to the surface to be his father. So possibly an eldest curse.

Basically assume every warlock is an eldest curse unless confirmed otherwise.

So combining the two theories from @the-blackdale and @murderbabies is that maybe the death or at least one eldest curse would be needed to get Luci back into this world. They paint a sigil with that blood, and bring Lucifer in through it. Not sure when necromancy would be in order, but maybe Asmodeus would bring his son back to show him what they had done.

@revati3008 brought up that maybe Max is an eldest curse who was placed strategically so Magnus would adopt him. And who did this? Asmodeus. Because he wanted to manipulate his child.

Just imagine that. Asmodeus holding the knowledge of their child's parentage over Magnus and Alec's heads. Sounds like something he would do. This would also be even more causally cruel if Max is an eldest curse, because most of those die under the weight of their own power.

But that's super-likely because of a vision Magnus had in TLBOW and also based solely on vibes.

And then the good ol' key theory. @tenacioushubb is the mastermind of this one.

The core idea of this theory is that the eldest curses are analogous to keys. And these keys are needed to unchain Lucifer from a prison. This theory does require Luci to be chained up, but this could explain why demons are coming from Pandemonium in the first place. Lucifer being chained up (probably in Pandemonium) would be the source of all the demon energy. Him coming to our world would be the "wicked powers" aspect of that series.

Also, as @patalliumapples pointed out to me, maybe this how Asmodeus is going to use Magnus. Though this stems from something I noticed before, and ties into something I call the "Castle Theory" which is legit just based off some lyrics from Halsey's Castle.

Sit down and grab some popcorn this one's complicated and very crack pot.

So here are the lyrics that inspired me:

I'm headed straight for the castle

They wanna make me their queen

And there's an old man sitting on the throne

That's saying that I probably shouldn't be so mean

I'm headed straight for the castle

They've got the kingdom locked up

And there's an old man sitting on the throne

That's saying I should probably keep my pretty mouth shut

Straight for the castle

I've said before this song has the same vibes as Clary going into Edom to rescue Jocelyn and the others. This will come up later.

Focusing on Magnus-he already was going to be made to be a king. In one of his dreams in TLBOW, Magnus dreamt of ruling a ruined world. Those chains on his arms from the thorn were there, too.

In The Red Scrolls of Magic while Asmodeus was info-dumping on us, he mentioned the eldest curses were "meant for thrones of iron." Which was so random. Why specify iron? We all know it's deadly to faeries, what does he want?

So I looked up what iron is supposed to do in the Shadowhunters Codex because I didn't know if there was anything else it did. Whelp, turns out a nickel-iron alloy called meteoric iron (normally found in meteors) is a good magic conductor, along with most iron being toxic to the fae.

And my mind was spinning. Rushing to check the Bane Chronicles, I looked at what the Hotel Dumort was built of. It actually was demonic metal, but I'd you had enough iron that can conduct magic,

So if Magnus sits on a throne of iron with enough demonic magic in him, it could unlock Lucifer down there.

Another theory that a few people have brought up is Magnus being possessed by a demon. I feel like it would be a demon Asmodeus sent to posses Magnus, not himself, but at least Asmodeus is smart. He has some sort of brain, unlike Belial, who just acts like he does, and then fails.

Last theory is something I'll do another post on because it needs a LOT of research to back it up.

This theory is that the eldest curses are similar to the Nephilim from the Bible.

These Nephilim were the children of fallen angels on earth. Same as the eldest curses. Though these Nephilim were giants, hundreds of feet tall.

But in one of Magnus's many visions, he dreamt he was tall. And this was after sitting on that throne, after ruling his own world.

Again, more research needed, but I think it could explain their power.

Feel free to add your own theories and thoughts! If I missed any canon info that could be helpful also tell me and I'll edit the post so it's included.

#tsc #magnus bane #tessa gray #twp #the wicked powers #the eldest curses #tec #magnus lightwood bane #max lightwood bane #the red scrolls of magic #the lost book of the white #the shadowhunters chronicles #the shadowhunter chronicles

79 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

So there was a post, about how Wei WuXian could possibly get bagpipes, and it got me thinking, what if he got me thinking, what if instead of finding, he summoned something accidentally? Like, say, big, black, very friendly and affectionate church grim?

part 2 of Good Neighbors

Wei Wuxian was a little resentful about the fact that the first one of Them that he met was a grim.

It was probably the only reason he was still alive, of course – not only was it innately good luck to meet one (apparently), but his uninvited guests had also found it funny that he’d run away screaming from a grim of all things. But he was still resentful: a supernaturally powerful, supernaturally large dog, and it was supposed to be good luck?

Who in the world thought of something as stupid as that?

Though, maybe that answered the question. His uninvited guests, as he called them for lack of anything better to use, were very much not a part of the world as he knew it.

He’d fallen into their clutches in the Burial Mounds, spent three years and a day with them in their world while only three months and a day passed in his, and he’d learned – many things.

Some things he didn’t especially want to learn.

The rest he’d put together himself, developing demonic cultivation for nearly the entire stretch of those three years, and he hated that he had to be thankful to them for giving him the time he needed to build the power he needed to do what he did – to defeat the Wen sect, to avenge his loved ones, to pretend, for a short while, to be normal.

He hated that he’d had to come crawling back to them in the end.

He hated living here in Yiling, in the Burial Mounds, where he had no choice but to cater to the bizarre and ever-changing whims of his stupid guests all the time.

“Wei-gongzi!” Wen Ning exclaimed, and he turned to look, surprised by the unusual vehemence. “Wei-gongzi, we have a guest –”

“Oh, there’s no need for formality!” a familiar voice laughed, silly and frivolous as it had always been, and Wei Wuxian had to rub his eyes and stare – but no, that really was Nie Huaisang. “Wei-xiong doesn’t have to put on airs; I’m an old friend, not a guest.”

“Nie-xiong,” Wei Wuxian said, trying to be polite. “What are you doing here?”

And how did you get here, he wondered: none of his perimeter alarms had tripped, and Nie Huaisang had come apparently alone, without his saber, and so he couldn’t have flown.

He might almost have wondered –

But no. Nie Huaisang might be lazy, might be a good-for-nothing, might be spoiled rotten, but he was still human.

His uninvited guests weren’t.

“I came to visit you, of course!” Nie Huaisang said, his voice a gentle trill. “I brought house-warming gifts – medicines, and plenty of meat. Wen-xiong’s older sister already snatched the boxes away.”

Wen Ning looked rather stunned at the causally familiar form of address.

“I love what you’d done with the place,” Nie Huaisang added before Wei Wuxian could figure out what to say, and Wei Wuxian instantly tensed.

There was no reason to – Jiang Cheng had visited, and he’d only seen the glamour: a small settlement, more sticks than people, poor and dirty. There was no way for an outsider to see the strange structures his guests had built, or that he’d built based on their designs – angular and empty and utterly uninhabitable. He’d explained it to the Wen sect remnants, a little desperately, as being shrines to minor gods, which had worked fine right up until the first of the guests started visiting.

“It’s humble, but it’s ours,” he forced himself to say. “Any thoughts you have on décor would be most welcome.”

Nie Huaisang laughed at him, the sound infectious enough that Wei Wuxian found himself smiling along, or at least he was smiling along right up until Nie Huaisang said, “I don’t know, a giant starfish made out of moon-bright silver doesn’t really scream ‘humble’ to me.”

The smile was gone.

“You know moon-bright silver,” Wei Wuxian said, and his spine was suddenly stiff. “Nie Huaisang…you’re – you’re one of –”

“It’s a matter that’s generally considered up for debate,” Nie Huaisang said, and had his eyes behind that ever-present fan of his always been so bright? “Me and my brother, that is; everyone’s sure at least one of us is. But that’s just a family joke.”

“A family joke,” Wei Wuxian echoed. He felt a bit faint.

“Oh yes,” Nie Huaisang said. “The Burial Mounds are a relic of a war the Nie clan participated in, many years ago, and we were the ones who brought the Neighbors. I think someone thought must have thought that they’d like it, it being a giant Hill and all that.”

“You know - you call them Neighbors?”

“Aren’t they? I’ve been visiting with them for years; we trade saber work for cleaning.”

It was just stupid enough that Wei Wuxian thought it might even be true, and he had wondered at how efficiently his room in Qinghe had been cleaned the one time he’d stayed there.

And, well, everyone had always said that the Nie sect was a bit – odd.

Unorthodox.

Not as unorthodox as him, of course, but still...

“Do you know how to make them go away?” he asked, without much hope.

“Why would you want them to?” Nie Huaisang asked in return, looking sincerely puzzled by the question - as if the uninvited guests were anything more than a pest and a plague and an endless burden. “Anyway, I came to see if you’d like to join me in some dancing.”

Wei Wuxian shuddered. He remembered the endless dances that didn’t stop even when your feet bled and you begged for mercy, the beautiful food that couldn’t be eaten and the disgusting stuff that could be, the laughter and the mockery, the beauty and the horror, all mixed together until he didn’t know which was which.

“Don’t worry,” Nie Huaisang said, patting him on the arm. “I’ll make sure it’s a nice one.”

And – it was, strangely enough.

The uninvited guests that Wei Wuxian had toiled so long and so hard to assuage seemed quite fond of Nie Huaisang, plucking at his clothing and hair and skin as if he were a guqin, and he liked them back, laughing with them. He stage-whispered in Wei Wuxian’s ear that they were all mad for his brother, and that kicked off a conversation among them that proved that they really were.

Even the dancing itself was not so bad.

(They were allowed to stop, for one thing.)

“What did you meet when you first arrived?” Nie Huaisang asked lazily when they were taking a break, lying down on the blankets that were laid out along the not-lawn underneath the not-sky. “It can be important, sometimes.”

“A grim,” Wei Wuxian admitted, and Nie Huaisang laughed high and clear. “What does that mean?”

“Just think of it as good luck.”

“I’ve heard that,” he said, irritated. “But why is it good luck? What does it mean?”

Nie Huaisang laughed again. “A grim is a protector,” he said. “It summons stormy weather and smells of death, making it seem vile, but it defies the profane and bars entry against evil, preserving the safety of those within its domain. Fond of moonlight and wine. It means that you were born to save lives.”

That – didn’t sound that bad.

Even if it was a dog.

“Why is it funny, then?”

Nie Huaisang’s teeth are white in the dark. “Nothing ever specified what lives.”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #my fic #my fics #good neighbors #misfits-den

193 notes · View notes

sondepoch · 4 years

Text

5 Minutes (Lucifer x Reader)

It's not rare for Satan and Lucifer to fight. It's even more common for one of them to threaten leaving the House of Lamentation in their anger. But this time, things feel more serious. So you go to offer the Avatar of Pride some comfort, and to maybe help him make amends with his brother. But all he wants is to be wrapped in your loving arms.

~Oneshot

MASTERLIST

It's not the food you like.

As you glance down at the dish Levi prepared tonight—fried bear tongue, drizzled in a frog-and-fox puree—you can't help but think with a lurch: No, it's definitely not the food I like.

But these dinners in the House of Lamentation are normally so happy and full of life. They're a time where you're reminded that, despite everything, these seven men are brothers, and they love each other like a family.

Dinner is normally your favorite meal of the day: it's your one chance to see the brothers in their natural state. With no strings attached, you just get to enjoy spending time with them.

Yeah. There's no denying it.

Dinners in the House of Lamentation are special.

So why did the evening have to turn into this?

You droop your head, gazing at your pitiful reflection in your black beetle soup, listening to the fight as it continues to escalate.

"Must you ruin every meal of ours?"

"Must you oversee every action of mine?"

"Ah, yes. 'Mine.' That's all I hear from you, Satan. You're the Avatar of Wrath, not the Avatar of Selfishness—think of those around you for a change."

"Is this really coming from you, Lucifer? You're telling me not to be selfish? Well since you're clearly still such a saint: Why don't you do everyone here a big favor and keep your nose out of our business?!"

You hear Lucifer stand up, and can immediately tell that he's trying to glare down his brother. Not a second later, Satan mimics his action.

"Satan, I am warning you. Do not continue—"

"Oh, you're warning me. How terrifying," Satan mocks. "What are you going to do, oh so noble Lucifer? Go crying to daddy Diavolo?"

You feel Lucifer flinch next to you. He keeps you close to him during meals so that you're always safe at his side, but seeing him this furious is making you feel almost fearful beside his towering form.

"Do not disrespect Diavolo. That is the one thing in this house I will not tolerate, Satan, and I'm tired of being patient with you."

"You're being patient? Is that what you call constantly breathing down my neck and supervising my every action? Is that what you call hiding behind your ridiculous lectures and oh-so-precious lord Diavolo? The man you seem to worship doesn't even—"

"Leave."

You flinch.

For the first time since their bickering began, you look up at the two men fighting. Their angry gazes are locked onto each other, sharing the spotlight of the dinner as every other brother in the room gazes upon at them as well.

In all your minds, a common question echoes.

"L-Lucifer," Levi stammers out. His eyes are round in concern, not a single trace of his usual carefree attitude present. "Leave? Are you asking Satan to..." To leave this dinner table or this house?

You swallow.

These brothers know each other too well to need words to finish the question.

Everyone stiffens, an expectant hush falling over the table as you all wait for Lucifer's response.

"It doesn't matter," Satan says with a scoff. He pulls his chair out and turns, sparing none of you a second glance. "I'm leaving."

And though he doesn't specify whether its the dinner table or the house he intends to abandon, his intentions are clear. If one of them doesn't do something, Satan will be in Purgatory Hall by this time tomorrow, you realize.

You turn to Lucifer, about to urge him to apologize when you see the look on his face.

He's crestfallen.

His fist clenches and unclenches as he begins to understand the weight of Satan's declaration. It's not the first time that one of them has said something to prompt the other to attempt to leave the House of Lamentation, but Satan's words have a ringing sense of finality to them.

Before any of you can get a word out, Lucifer storms off in the opposite direction.

Truly brothers, you can't help but think.

"I...I'm going after Lucifer. One of you, please talk to Satan." You push your plate toward Beel, a silent cue to finish dinner so that the blonde has at least a little bit of time to cool off before one of them tries to talk him back into his senses.

But with Lucifer, every passing second is a curse.

The longer he has for his pride to cool down, the more resilient he'll be when you find him. His pride is a double-edged sword that's constantly in the molding—to get through to him, you need to talk to him now. Strike while the iron is hot. Break through to him before his pride makes him too stubborn for him to even hear your words.

You all but run to his study, nearly breathless when you finally reach the room. You think about knocking, before deciding against it. The only time you need to knock is during the day, when there's a risk that Lucifer has a guest who could wonder why you're entering his study so comfortably.

But on nights like these, Lucifer has instructed you to not even bother.

A knock kills the element of surprise, MC, he had once told you. And you're the sweetest surprise for a man like me.

Lucifer stiffens when he hears the door swing open, head darting over to your position for fear that one of his brothers will see him in such a vulnerable state. But when his dark eyes flit over your figure, he relaxes once more and looks away, tightening his grasp in his hair as he digs his nails into his hair, staring holes into his desk.

"Lucifer," You whisper softly, embracing him from behind. You bring a delicate hand up to play with the raven locks, subtly interweaving your fingers with his own to stop him from pulling his hair out. You can feel his body trembling—either from rage or sadness or bitterness or a mix of all things above—and you feel a sharp pang in your heart.

You came here to tell him off, to reprimand him for taunting Satan and getting into a fight when they had just finally made up, but the elder demon already knows his mistake.

You sigh, giving him a tender kiss to his temple.

"He's leaving," Lucifer mutters, still yet to respond to your touch. He allows you to lace your fingers in his, but that's the extent of it. Every part of him looks numb. "And he meant it, this time. He didn't just say it to spite me. Satan actually wants to leave."

"It'll blow over. It always does," That much is true. You've only seen Lucifer and Satan fight a handful of times, still fairly new to the Devildom, but from what you've seen the duo always make up in some shape or form. "Just apologize, and this whole thing can be done with."

Lucifer stiffens.

"Apologize?" He asks, but the question is more of a scoff. "You want the Avatar of Pride to apologize?"

You take a step back, realizing that Lucifer's anger is rising up alongside his voice, and the look on his face tells you that it's the last thing you want to agitate. He stands and gives you an incredulous stare—probably about to further mock your idea—when he sees the terrified gaze you're shooting him. Slowly, he sits back down, and a part of him seems calmer: as if releasing that little bit of anger cooled his head.

First hesitantly, but then more confident as you think about all the times you've done this in the past, you seat yourself in the demon's lap and wrap your arms around his neck. Despite the situation, you see his gaze dart to your chest, now directly at eye-level with him, before turning away. He leans his head back on the chair, and for a long moment, neither of you speak.

That's okay, though. You know that this silence is one that Lucifer is meant to break.

An entire minute must pass before the anger in his eyes has faded, and he gives a sigh of mute helplessness. At what? Perhaps it's his helplessness against Satan's ever-responsive temper, always ready to go off at Lucifer at the drop of a hat. Or perhaps it's Lucifer's helplessness at his own inability to control his wrath that causes him to sigh like that. Either way, what's left when he expels the remnants of his prior anger is nothing but a dejected sorrow: a sight ill-fitting of such an upstanding demon.

"I thought things were going well between us," Lucifer mutters, gesturing half-heartedly toward a book on his desk. It's old: the leather bindings aged with use and time. "I was even going to give him that book as a present. It's the last one in the Devildom. Satan's been searching for it for centuries."

"Give it to him," You murmur. You bring up a cautious hand to cup Lucifer's cheek. You keep your touch light and gentle, knowing full-well how helpless the demon must be feeling.

He's trying. He really is. It's just that after five thousand years of misunderstandings between the two, it'll be a bit longer before all the tension between him and Satan dissipates. "The book will be...an apology without words. Come on. I'm sure Satan is just as upset over this as you are. He wants to make up, too." You let out a light chuckle. "You two are more alike than you realize."

Lucifer sighs, leaning his head on your shoulder. Even he can't deny that much.

You thread your fingers through his dark locks, letting him take all the time he needs. Already, you can feel a protest build in his lungs, a dismissive counterargument to why giving this book to Satan would be a larger blow to his pride than any possible reward derived from it. But, much to your surprise, when Lucifer finally opens his mouth once more, all he says is "Okay."

You almost stop your movements, a brief hesitation flitting through your body as you realize, with a start, that Lucifer actually just agreed to your proposition. Just how distraught is he? You can't help but wonder as his soft breathing continues to tickle your skin.

A new wave of empathy floods through you.

These brothers weren't born to be demons. They became one with their sins in their descent from heaven. And just as much as you, or any human, or possibly even any angel: they, too, want to rise above their sin.

"I'm proud of you," You murmur, stealing a chaste kiss from Lucifer's lips. You're about to say more, to congratulate him on how he's rising above his nature and doing what's best for his relationship with Satan, when he silences you with another kiss.

It's a quiet thank you.

Even now, when Lucifer is trying to overcome his pride in this argument with Satan, he's bound by his sin. He can't outright apologize, nor can he outright thank you.

But he's trying.

And that's all you'll ever ask for.

You let your lips linger on his, basking in the tenderness of the moment. Lucifer is normally such a passionate and active lover; moments like these are rare. But you adore all sides to the raven-haired demon: the soft and the hot and the cuddly and the kinky and even the side he showed you last night, with those handcuffs and—

You force yourself from your thoughts, leaning forward to retrieve the book Lucifer was talking about. Your fingers have almost touched the leather when the demon pulls you back into his lap, caging his arms tightly around your waist so that you can't escape. "Not yet," He mumbles, resting his forehead on your shoulder. He squeezes you even tighter.

"But Lucifer..."

"Not yet," He repeats. When you continue to pull away from him, he sighs and gives you a tiny compromise. "Just five more minutes."

You already know that five will stretch into ten, and then into fifteen, and soon the evening will have turned to night, but as Lucifer leans back and pulls your body with him, you can't bring yourself to care.

"Okay," You murmur with a smile. You turn your body slightly and shift to accommodate him, giving him better room to tug at your body with his own until the two of you are pressed close enough together to be one.

He gives another sigh, and this time it's soft with comfort. Quiet enough that you would miss it, but there.

You close your eyes.

It's not often that Lucifer lets you see his vulnerable side like this, wanting nothing more from you than the comfort of your presence. In fact, it's the first time that he's been so open about it. Hands looped around your waist and head pressed above yours, all he does is hold you close. There are no flirtatious jokes. No playful bites. It's just you and him, wrapped together in a tight embrace and a stillness that makes it feel like time itself has stopped to give you both the time you need.

The supposed five minutes.

Though, as you begin to drift off in Lucifer's warm embrace, the prospect of those five minutes turning into something more suddenly doesn't seem so bad after all.

MASTERLIST

Word count: 3.0k

Notes: I injured my hand recently so I've been going through all my drafts and posting them~ I think once I'm healed I may actually continue writing for the Obey Me fandom :D i haven't finished the game yet but that won't stop me from daydreaming about my favs~ *cough* Simeon *cough*

Comment & Like

I do not own the rights to Obey Me! or any of the characters within it.

1K notes · View notes

subarublue · 4 years

Text

Mornings Are the Best Series - Part 2

Series Description: You’ve always been a morning person. The quiet as the sun rises, the coolness of the crisp morning air, the smell of coffee brewing; it’s always been your favorite time of day.

Dante however, is not a morning person. But being with you might just be enough to change his mind.

One Shot

Title: Pizza for Breakfast

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Timeline: Not specified

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Dante x Female Reader

Word Count: 3475

Read on Ao3

Summary: Lady says it’s ridiculous that Dante would even eat pizza for breakfast. Unfortunately for her, there’s someone who likes spoiling your boyfriend a little too much: You.

Notes: My local fuel station makes a really good breakfast pizza and I was having a slice the other day and thought, “Dante would totally appreciate this kind of thing.” Thus this was born.

You stood in the kitchen, admiring the breakfast you’d just finished putting together, proudly.

Dante’s gonna love this! you thought with excitement. You’d never made one before, but you had always wanted to try it out. You’d decided after some searching, to not use a recipe and try just winging it yourself. So far, it looked as though everything would turn out perfect. Now you just had to bake it.

Figuring you could clean up the mess you made in the kitchen while it was baking, you popped it in the oven and set a timer. As you started on cleaning up, you wondered idly if you should have waited until a bit later to make it. It wasn’t even quite nine o’clock yet and you were sure Dante was still asleep.

He hadn’t had a job last night, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t stayed up late. He was more of a night owl, after all. Considering devils and demons tended to show up more often at night, it stood to reason. You had been in bed and were well and fast asleep whenever he’d decided to join you, so you figured he would probably try and sleep in late.

Which was a problem today, actually. He may not have had a job last night, but he had one this morning; one that Lady of all people had hired him for help on and you knew she wouldn’t take kindly to him not being ready when she showed up. That’s why you’d decided to try making this breakfast this morning. You were hoping it would help to coax Dante out of bed early enough that Lady wouldn’t want to shoot him first thing.

I guess we’ll see how that goes.

You had just finished cleaning up and noted that there was some time left, so you decided you should try and wake up your sleeping devil. You double checked on the breakfast in the oven and seeing that it was coming along nicely, made your way to the front of the shop to head upstairs.

You had barely taken that first step up the staircase when the front door swung open suddenly and Lady strode into the building. She took one look at Dante’s desk, then noticed you on the stairs. She gave an exasperated huff. “Let me guess…still asleep?”

“I was just about to go and try to wake him up, actually.” You stepped down off the stairs to face her properly as you talked.

“Well good luck with that. If you need it, I’ll gladly help out.” The shameless grin on her face told you exactly what she planned to do to ‘help out’ and you couldn’t help but let out small laugh at Dante’s unknown expense.

“I think I’ve got this. I’d rather not spend the day trying to get all the blood out of the sheets.”

“Understandable. Just know that I won’t wait long for his lazy ass to get up. We’ve got a job to do.” Lady was smirking, a promise of pain to come if Dante made her wait too long.

“Oh, don’t worry. If all else fails, I’m sure offering him some pizza will get him out of bed.”

Lady’s smirk fell and she rolled her eyes at that. “Seriously?”

“Hey, if it works, it works. You want him up, don’t you?” You simply shrugged. Dante’s eating habits weren’t exactly healthy, but you figured his half-devil metabolism more than made up for it.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just ridiculous that that idiot would even eat pizza for breakfast. I can’t believe you actually let him.”

“I’m his girlfriend, not his mother,” you replied simply, “And while I admit he doesn’t always act like it, he is a grown man. He can make his own decisions.”

“That idiot better know how lucky he is to have you.” Her comment had you both laughing a bit now.

“I’ll go see if I can get him out of bed at least. Can’t guarantee how awake he’ll be, but I’ve got something that should fix that if it’s a problem.”

You made your way upstairs then, leaving Lady to wait at Dante’s desk. Shouldering the bedroom door open when you reached it, you smiled fondly at the huge lump in the bed in your shared room. The only indication that it was your boyfriend in that bed was the silver mop of hair peeking out from the top of the sheets.

You took a seat on the edge of the mattress and decided to see if waking him gently would work first. If not, you’d work your way up from there. You pulled the covers down away from his face and were met with no reaction; not that you’d expected any from just that. It did give you a good look at his sleeping face though, which you took a short moment to admire.

His hair was a bit mussed from sleep and any hard lines on his face were softened in his relaxed state. He was snoring softly, unaware that you were sitting right next to him. Which was actually weird because you figured for someone who was half-devil and had incredibly heightened senses, it would be easy for him to feel you there right next to him, asleep or not.

But Dante definitely loved his sleep, so maybe that was why. You were certain that nothing short of a serious emergency could wake the man you loved easily, so you set about getting started, hoping this didn’t take too long. You’d hate for him to eat lead instead of the special breakfast you’d made him.

“Dante? Hey, Dante? Come on, it’s time to wake up, babe,” you called gently as you rocked his shoulder a bit. He groaned a little, but made no other indication that what you’d done had any effect on his slumbering state.

You’d hoped this would be easy. After all, he knew about this job even before yesterday, so he should have been prepared for it, but no. This was Dante after all and he was the king of ‘winging it.’

You decided you needed to get a bit more forceful with him, so you sat up on your knees on the mattress. Using your whole body weight and steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulder, you bounced up and down on the mattress. That got a reaction.

Immediately he groaned again and his hand shot out, grabbing you by the waist to stop the incessant bouncing that was disturbing his sleep. You’d thought you had him at that, but as soon as it was clear you’d stopped, his hand simply dropped and he hadn’t even opened his eyes at all.

You gave an indignant huff at that and immediately started rocking his shoulder repeatedly while you let out a loud whine. “Dante! It’s time to get up! If you don’t, I’m gonna stop being nice about it!”

This time the reaction you got was verbal. “You call this bein’ nice?” His voice was slurred, a bit heavy with sleep, and even muffled slightly by the pillow his head was currently half-buried in, but you heard him nonetheless and huffed again.

“You don’t want to see me not being nice.” Your menacing comment was overshadowed by your playful tone, but it at least got him to peek one eye open to look at you sleepily. It didn’t last long, though.

“Just five more minutes, babe.” And with that his eyes were closed again and he stuffed his face straight down into his pillow.

Seriously, how could he breathe like that?

“You know I would love to let you sleep for five more minutes, but Lady’s already downstairs waiting on you and I’m sure she’s pretty trigger-happy right now,” you warned.

You barely heard his reply as it was completely muffled by his pillow. It sounded a lot like an exasperated, “Oh, duck,” but you were one hundred percent certain that was not what he’d said. Still, it had you giggling. At least he was coherent enough to know that if he didn’t get up there would be trouble. That was promising.

“Come on, babe! Don’t blame me when she comes up here shooting up a storm.” You tried to shake him fully awake by shoving his shoulder roughly, but considering how much bigger he was than you, he barely budged. He did turn his head to the side so his face wasn’t stuffed into his pillow anymore and his eyes were open now, at least. He was still pretty bleary-eyed and you couldn’t help but think how adorable he looked right now.

“You mean you won’t protect me from her?” He was trying to give you the puppy dog eyes now, and while that usually worked miracles for him, you weren’t having it this time.

“Sorry, baby. You’re much better at taking bullets than I am.” You laughed as he groaned and rolled his eyes, full well knowing what Lady would do if she got impatient enough, but still not caring as he just took his pillow and covered his head as if it would block out the rest of the world without fail.

You finally decided it was time to play your trump card. Nothing else had worked so far and you didn’t want to wait and see how long it would take for Lady to get that impatient.

“Besides,” you said as you leaned over him to lift his pillow up a bit so he could hear you better (not that he couldn’t hear you regardless). Your voice took on a singsong rhythm at your next statement, “~I’ve got a surprise in the oven for you.~”

He peeked out from under his pillow at you, his curiosity peeked. “Oven? You baked something?”

“Yup! And I’ll give you a clue what it is: It’s one of your absolute favorite foods!”

He immediately perked up at that. There was a brief pause in which you could see the gears turning in his head, probably trying to decipher in his sleepy haze if it was pizza or a strawberry sundae, until he finally likely settled on pizza because why would you put ice cream in an oven?

“Oh, hell yeah!” He practically jumped out of bed in his enthusiasm and you had to dodge out of the way since he almost bowled you over. He paused halfway to the bathroom, seemingly remembering you were still there and backtracked over to you giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “You’re the best, sweetheart!” Then he was gone again and before you knew it the bathroom door was shut and he was yelling through it, “I’ll be down in a minute!”

You giggled at his antics and decided to make your way downstairs, so you could pull his breakfast out of the oven before it burned…and before Lady got tired of waiting. You saw her at the base of the staircase as you left the room and headed down. Clearly you’d gotten him out of bed just in time.

“I take it he’s finally up?” Lady was eyeing you hopefully, though whether it was hope that Dante was awake, or hope that he wasn’t so she could really shoot him you weren’t sure. Luckily, you wouldn’t have to find out this time.

“Yeah, he’s up. But he’s gonna want breakfast before he leaves.” You watched as Lady rolled her eyes again.

“Let me guess: pizza, right?”

“Yup! There’s plenty so if you want some too, you’re more than welcome to have some,” you offered. Dante always loved your cooking, so his opinion was more than a little biased, especially since you were his girlfriend so you thought it would be a nice change to see what someone else thought of it.

“No thanks. Pizza for breakfast isn’t really my style. I prefer a real breakfast. You know, like eggs and bacon or biscuits and gravy or-” Lady paused when telltale sound of a timer rang out through the shop.

“Then this just might be right up your alley!” you said cryptically as you made your way to the kitchen. Lady, now curious as to what you meant, was hot on your heels.

She watched as you shut the timer and the oven off, then grabbing some oven mitts, proceeded to pull out a very yummy smelling pizza from the oven; however, it didn’t quite smell like a normal pizza, nor did it look like one.

She was about to ask when Dante chose that very moment to waltz into the kitchen, now totally awake and apparently very ready for his surprise pizza breakfast. Before he could even get a word out though, he took one look at it and blinked, tilting his head as if he wasn’t sure he was seeing it correctly. This wasn’t exactly what he thought of when you’d said ‘pizza.’

There was definitely crust and cheese, but the sauce and other toppings were not at all something he or Lady had ever thought about putting on a pizza. Instead of a regular pizza sauce, sausage gravy was barely visible through the toppings and said toppings consisted of more sausage, scrambled eggs, bacon, and of course, cheese.

“Babe...what is this exactly?” Dante questioned as he stared at the ‘pizza’ you’d made him. He didn’t sound disgusted or put off at all, merely curious. You’re cooking was always top notch so he was simply surprised since it wasn’t quite what he had expected.

“This is a breakfast pizza! Trust me. You’ll love it!” you said as you cut the pizza and pulled a piece off to hand him.

Dante didn’t waste any time in taking a bite as Lady watched on in curiosity. The minute he tasted it his eyes lit up and before he was even done chewing he was yelling, “Hell yeah! That hits the spot!”

You giggled as you tried to hand him a plate, which he ignored in favor of grabbing another slice with his free hand, then he made his way out of the kitchen to sit at his desk while he ate. Placing another piece on the plate Dante hadn’t taken, you held it up to Lady for a final offer.

“Sure you don’t want to give it a try?” You waved it a little in front of her, as if that would entice her to take it.

Surprisingly, she relented and took the plate from you. “Oh, why the hell not? If he’s raving about it this much, can’t be anything but good, right?”

You smiled brightly at her, getting another plate and a piece for yourself. Then, picking up the rest of the pizza, you brought it out of the kitchen and set it down in front of Dante on his desk as Lady followed behind you. Dante had already finished his first piece and was halfway through his second.

“Well, I guess the one good thing about this is he won’t take long to eat it.” Lady said as she watched in mild amusement as your boyfriend stuffed his face. Her amusement fell though, when he immediately grabbed a third slice upon finishing his second. “Unless he eats the whole damn thing by himself. Geez.”

“Guess you’d better hurry if you want more, ‘cause I ain’t saving you any!” He taunted back.

“I’m sure one piece is more than enough for me,” Lady said as she took her first bite.

You waited in anticipation for her verdict. Dante was easy to please so long as there wasn’t any olives in whatever you made him, so you really wanted to know what someone else thought of your new concoction, especially since you hadn’t followed a recipe.

As she chewed you watched her expression change from neutral, to surprised, to very pleased. “Alright! I admit it: this is pretty good,” She said as she took another bite.

You smiled brightly, happy that Lady also liked it as Dante grabbed yet another slice. “Then I hope you’re happy with that one slice ‘cause you probably ain’t getting any more!”

“I already told you one is enough for me!” Lady shot back and you watched them with a smile on your face as they bickered a little back and forth.

When Dante had finally finished his breakfast (and you and Lady as well), he got up from his chair to get ready to head out. “Nothing like a great breakfast made by the best girl in the whole world!” he proclaimed as holstered his twin pistols.

“Are you finally ready to go now?” Lady said in mock annoyance, but it was easy to tell she didn’t quite mean it. Good food almost always has ways of improving anyone’s mood.

“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses. I’m coming,” he said as he met her at the door. But then he suddenly looked like he just remembered something he forgot and turned back to you sitting on his desk next to the last, single slice of breakfast pizza. He strode back over to his desk and Lady groaned about the fact that he was going for another slice. But instead of stealing that last piece, he cupped your face and stole a kiss instead.

It would have been the sweetest thing too, except for the fact that he didn’t stop and you knew why. He dragged the kiss out, slanting his lips against yours again and again, as one of his hands left your face to wrap around you and pull you closer. He wasn’t keeping it chaste at all. Not that he was prone to do so normally, but you had an audience this time; an audience he was now purposely trying to irritate at the moment.

You registered the incessant tapping of Lady’s boot on the wooden floor in the back of your mind, but really it was a faraway thing to you with Dante’s tongue currently making love to your mouth. It wasn’t much longer though, before she’d finally had enough of waiting for the morning and made it known. “If you two are done sucking face, we do have a job to get to, Dante.”

He didn’t react immediately, and by now you were vaguely aware that he was treading a very thin line, but after a moment he finally pulled his lips away from your own, albeit slowly. He licked his lips, keeping his face close to yours as he admired the pretty flushed color of it and his breath when he spoke, brushed over your lips ever so gently, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome, babe.” You replied with a sweet smile as he straightened up and turned to flash Lady a roguish smirk.

“Get your ass in gear before I shoot you,” she said, shaking her head as she turned to open the door.

Dante started to head after her, but only got a few steps before stopping and turning around one last time. You heard Lady scream his name this time, and you were certain he’d get shot, if not now, then maybe later ‘by accident’ while on this job.

He gave you one last small peck on the cheek, said a quick, “Bye, baby,” and snatched the last piece of pizza from his desk before hightailing it out the door after Lady, whom you could see fuming in exasperation at your boyfriend.

When Dante turned to close the door behind him, he flashed you a quick smile and a wink, to which you called out, “Don’t get shot now!”

His face immediately fell and he groaned dramatically as he closed the door, the barest hint of a smile making its way back to his face just before you lost sight of him as the door shut.

That would have been the end of it, except that the loud bang of a gunshot reverberated through the area, followed by the familiar sound of your boyfriend’s yelp. There were a few moments of silence while you assumed he was recovering, then you heard a very distinct and indignant yell of, “MY PIZZA!” which he had apparently dropped on the ground after getting shot.

You couldn’t stifle the laugh that tumbled out of you at that and what followed was a slightly muffled argument between the two that you couldn’t quite make out through the closed door. Suddenly though, it was Lady who was now yelling, “DON’T EAT IT OFF THE GROUND! THAT’S GROSS!”

Which was followed by an equally loud reply from Dante of, “WHAT’S GROSS IS WASTING THIS!” Dante then started vehemently raving about your cooking and how it shouldn’t be wasted as their voices faded, indicating they were finally leaving.

You figured he probably wouldn’t shut up about your cooking all morning long and you almost felt sorry for Lady about that...

…Almost.

← Part 1 • Part 2 series • Part 3 (WIP)

#dmc #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc dante #dante x reader #dmc lady #breakfast pizza #female reader #devil may cry #my writing #suby scrawls

51 notes · View notes

johannas-motivational-insults · 4 years

Note

For the DVD commentary ask, my first thought was the BDE/“no toasters” scene from Chapter 3 of Satisfaction, because the idea of a “making of” commentary over that is very funny to me for some reason. But since that probably falls quite a bit too far on the NSFW side, my fallback was the scene from Chapter 20 of Demons where Catra decides to leave the Horde. That one is probably my favorite of the story so far.

omfg, that would be hysterical but I don’t even know what I’d say about that. Your easy pick is an excellent choice though so I’ll do that! (Commentary is bolded.)

I was so excited to finally release this chapter after so much buildup of Catra becoming disillusioned with the Horde and her identity in it. It was clear to me that Catra would not leave just because something bad happened to her, that would only make her more determined to stay and prove herself, so she’d have to see people she cared about getting hurt to make that mental leap. And so, this scene was born.

Eyes scrunching shut, Catra covers her mouth in an attempt to suppress a yawn. It leaks out through her fingers all the same, high and squeaky and embarrassing. Blinking the focus back into her eyes, she flicks them around in search of witnesses. Seeing no cadets looking her way, she sighs in relief and folds her arms back together. She scowls into the sparring circle, watching but hardly paying attention. Is she really supposed to give a shit about any of this?

Don’t forget this happens the morning after Catra has her big breakdown when it hits her that she’ll never have another chance to earn Shadow Weaver’s love or approval. She’s finally at a tipping point.

A few more moves and Lonnie is victorious, slamming her opponent on his back before rolling and dragging his wrist into a devastating arm bar. He taps out and Lonnie gets a modest amount of applause as she stands. Grinning with a sweeping bow, she offers a hand to her opponent, who takes it grudgingly. Kyle and another boy take their places in the circle and Lonnie shares high fives with a few cadets on her way out. She’s nursing a sprained ankle from a couple days ago, but you wouldn’t know it by the way she struts.

When Lonnie’s eyes lock onto hers, Catra groans internally. Of course Lonnie can’t just ignore the folded ears, crossed arms and twitchy tail that very clearly say ‘leave me the fuck alone.’ No, that’s like a homing beacon for Lonnie. She’s always gotten a kick out of getting under Catra’s skin.

Well, Catra won’t give her the satisfaction. As Lonnie sidles up to her, she extends a congratulatory fist. “Nice armbar, dipshit.”

Lonnie grins, bumping it with pride. “Thanks, bitch.”

I love these two so much. Anyone who reads my fics can probably tell but I am Invested in Catralonnie. In my head this ship falls under the category ‘brotps who hate fuck.’

She turns to the circle and they stand silently side by side, watching as the next fight gets underway. In theory, anyway. Catra’s zoning out, her lips sinking into a frown as she settles back into the numb, dark, heavy place she’s been inhabiting today. Grief, she supposes, though not in the usual sense of the word. She’s not grieving that abusive witch who tormented her all those years, body and soul. No, what she’s grieving is the end of their relationship, how it’s encased in stone forever, how she’ll have no more chances to make things right. No more chances to make Shadow Weaver proud, to earn a gentle touch and kind words, to earn her pride and her trust. But that’s bullshit, and she knows it. Those things were never earned, never given fairly.

Oh, she’s starting to get it...

Catra grits her teeth, glaring straight ahead. Today’s numbness has been punctuated by occasional bursts of anger, rage so blinding it makes her wants to tear her own skin to shreds to purge the feeling from her body. (*thousand year stare into the camera*) She rides out this latest wave of fury in silence, clenching her fists but keeping her claws sheathed to avoid making a scene in public. She takes a few deep breaths, pushing them out until the sensation releases her and she sinks back into the depths.

Shadow Weaver is gone. Catra will never get what she needs. It’s over.

Girl, you need to get you some therapy.

“What’s eating you?”

Catra jumps slightly at the invasive words, turning to find Lonnie watching her with those infuriatingly smug green eyes. Licking her lips, Lonnie cracks, “I know it isn’t Adora.”

Me @ y’all:

Catra’s eyes narrow and she gives Lonnie a weak shove, prompting a laugh. “Nothing’s eating me,” she growls. “I’m fine.”

“Then why aren’t you sparring?” asks Lonnie. “Usually you love the chance to beat the shit out of some dumb human.”

“I don’t feel like it,” Catra answers flatly, mouth twitching only slightly. She doesn’t have the energy to be indignant. She doesn’t give a shit.

Damn that’s when you know Catra’s really got it bad.

Nodding with an exaggerated hum, Lonnie remarks, “You’ve been weird all day, dude. Broody, like more than normal.” (Have I mentioned how much I love Lonnie??) Catra summons the strength to shoot her a withering glare, but she’s undeterred. “You snuck into the barracks after midnight last night, then you woke me up again with your snivelling at four in the fucking morning,” she says with a glare of her own. “You owe me an explanation.”

“I don’t owe you anything, assface,” retorts Catra, jamming a threatening claw against her chest. “And I was only snivelling because I inhaled something weird up on the rooftops.”

Lonnie tips her head with a condescending smirk. “Sure, Catra.”

Yes, this is in fact a hat tip to ‘Sure, Jan.’

“I’m serious,” insists Catra. “There must’ve been some kind of spill in one of the factories.”

“Uh huh.”

Catra turns away with a glower, shaking her head. “Whatever, fuck you.”

“You wish,” snickers Lonnie.

“Ughhh!” Catra smacks her forehead with a huge sigh of exasperation. “Fine, I’ll fight you if it will get you to shut up. For fuck’s sakes, Lonnie.”

Lonnie’s preferred method of therapy is to piss people off enough that they’ll fight her and I think that’s very sexy of her.

Chuckling deeply beside her, Lonnie slings an arm around Catra’s shoulder and gives her a playful shake. “That’s my girl.”

Catra would usually shove Lonnie away in this situation, but she doesn’t this time. She’s too tired to fight the contact and needs to save her strength for the actual fight. Besides, it’s not the end of the world. Lonnie’s arm is beefy but not so heavy as to be uncomfortable. The pressure is actually kind of soothing in a way, clearing Catra’s mind and lulling her into a state of calm. Not that she would ever admit that to anyone, let alone Lonnie.

BROTPS WHO HATE FUCK Y’ALL. Okay but honestly I love that I have this relationship to work with because having someone who’s really good at getting under Catra’s skin is another way to open up her character. Lonnie is not only a loveable character she’s a very useful one for a writer who tells stories primarily through character work and relationships.

A loud thud and a howl of pain pierce the air, snapping Catra back to the moment. Her ears prick up at the familiar sound and she moves toward it on instinct, only to realize she’s half a step behind Lonnie. Humans like to say that cats aren’t pack animals, she’s heard that one many times as a reason she can’t be trusted. Catra is no more an animal than anyone else here, but she thinks Magicats must be different from their feline relatives in that way. The urge to protect her pack is overwhelming and immutable. One of her squadmates is hurt, and she needs to be there to help. Now.

Anyone who says Catra doesn’t care about other people can fucking fight me and that’s a fact.

She and Lonnie arrive at the edge of the circle to find Kyle sprawled on his stomach, moaning and writhing, pounding the floor as he tries to hold back wails of pain. It’s not immediately apparent what the problem is from Catra’s vantage point, but Rogelio is already kneeling on Kyle’s other side, telling him to breathe and that he’s going to be fine.

Okay so I fucking went 16 chapters never specifying whether the rest of the squad understood Rogelio’s language because it wasn’t clear in canon and I wanted to see if they would confirm it one way or the other, and of course as soon as I posted chapter 17 (where I specify that they can) season 4 came out and implied that they know him well enough to understand via his tone and gesturing but they don’t understand the language. So mark me down as annoyed over that. Anyway that wasn’t something I wanted to retcon so I kept it for the rest of the fic.

The instructor, some lower tier officer Catra doesn’t really know, steps into the ring. Pushing Kyle’s worried sparring partner aside, he shouts, “Enough theatrics! Get up and fight!”

Oh boy, Shadow Weaver likes to use that word on Adora too. I don’t remember if this mirrored that intentionally.

Catra feels Lonnie tense beside her, hears Rogelio snorting at Kyle that his leg is broken and he’d better stay the fuck down. Cringing in anticipation, Catra peeks over Kyle’s body and immediately wishes she hadn’t. The sight of his unnaturally bent shinbone sends a shudder of sympathy through her bones.

The instructor must not have any reptile friends (likely) or he understands and is a complete and utter asshole (also likely), because he keeps yelling at Kyle, “Come on, don’t be such a princess! I said get up, you coward!”

The boys’ wailing and snorting is getting them nowhere, so Lonnie intercedes. Gesturing down at the deformed limb, she shouts over the din. “His leg’s broken! You really think that’s a good idea?”

The instructor’s mouth falls open and he peers down at Kyle and then back up at Lonnie, his face turning red. “Don’t talk to me that way, Cadet!” he barks. “You’re running laps for the next half hour.”

Okay, Shadow Weaver Lite.

Lonnie blinks, purging her face of emotion. “I’m just trying to help. You needed a translator.”

“The next hour!” he shouts. “Wanna push it more?”

Scowling, Lonnie shakes her head tersely and begins to push her way out of the circle of cadets. Watching her go, the instructor puffs out his chest and waves a dismissive hand down at Kyle.

“Someone take this weakling to the infirmary,” he orders.

Rogelio glares up at the instructor, though to be fair the asshole probably can’t read reptilian expressions either. Lucky Hel. Rolling his whimpering boyfriend to lie on his back, which results in another howl of pain, he grunts out an apology. Then, supporting the injured leg with one massive arm and the rest of his body with the other, he scoops Kyle up and carries him away.

Okay but the bridal carry is *chef’s kiss*

As the crowd reforms around the sparring circle, the instructor claps Kyle’s partner on the shoulder and declares, “Alright, let’s get a real soldier in here to fight this guy!”

I feel really bad for this kid tbh.

The cadets erupt into cheers and several rush forward to take Kyle’s place, which results in a couple of impromptu fights as they try to push each other out of the circle. Catra is knocked back into the crowd in the process, but she doesn’t react with her usual bared teeth and claws, too busy staring slack-jawed at the chaos. Never in her life has she felt more disconnected from her surroundings, not even when she wanted to be.

At one point in her life (okay, many points), Catra would have been clamoring along with the rest of them. For a chance not just to prove herself, but to avenge her injured squadmate. But she feels no need to prove herself to this incompetent asshole of an instructor, and it’s not that kid’s fault they’re compelled to fight each other like this. He clearly felt terrible about Kyle, anyway.

As Catra watches the scene play out, watches the instructor continue to egg the cadets on, only one clear thought forms in her head.

What the fuck is wrong with these people?

Seriously. How is it weak and cowardly not to stand and fight on a broken leg? That’s not how the body works. Then again, they also like to say that deserters are weak and cowardly. Maybe they don’t know what those words even mean. Maybe weak and cowardly just means having a mind of your own.

Catra’s eyes track Lonnie as she hobbles around the room with a red face and clenched fists. Though she isn’t visibly fuming in the same way, a similar heat smolders deep in Catra’s belly, filling her mind with treasonous thoughts. The whole thing is so fucking unfair. But that’s hardly some grand revelation. Nothing that happens in the Fright Zone is fair.

So what is she even doing here?

That thought in particular makes Catra blink. Hard. She knows why she’s here, she’s been saying it over and over, clinging to these words, this need. She needs to show them they were wrong, she needs to achieve what everyone thought her incapable of. If she leaves, she’ll never do that, and everything that happened here would be for nothing. But if nothing is fair here, rising to the top says nothing about her qualifications, only her ability to work the system. A system that’s absolute bullshit.

And who does she need to prove it to, anyway? These mindless idiots submitting to an incompetant authority figure? Her temperamental former boss who put blind faith in her one day and took it away the next? Her deceased sorry excuse for a mother? Her ex-best friend who left her alone to suffer, but has since come to understand her wrongdoings? No… the only person Catra really needs to prove it to is herself. But if the system is bullshit, there’s nothing to prove, only a painful void to fill with… something.

Honestly this is a rough feeling to deal with but at least now that the illusion has been broken she can go about trying to find that thing to fill it. And no that’s not a sex joke lmao, though I suppose it could be.

Scorpia’s words from last night filter into Catra’s brain through the distant sounds of cheering and shouting. If it feels like everything is for nothing, she needs to find a way to make something of her suffering so she can be at peace. Her eyes fall on Lonnie again, her ears recalling Kyle’s sounds of agony. If she can stop other people from being hurt the way she was, would that make something of it? Would that be enough to satisfy the longing deep inside her, to heal the yawning, yearning chasm Shadow Weaver created with her rejection and cruelty, with her refusal to provide validation and affection? Catra doesn’t know.

All Catra knows is she’s done with this shit.

Catra I am so proud of you bb I love you and you deserve better.

Anyway sorry I had less coherent thoughts for this commentary but this scene makes me emotional so I got a little meme-happy. I have had many experiences like this where I was just holding, holding onto something that was unhealthy or a lost cause and then something happened and a switch flipped in my brain, releasing me from that mind trap. I really wanted to get the feeling of that experience across and I’m proud of how it turned out. It’s a great payoff scene for that whole ‘return to the Horde’ arc for Catra. I didn’t want her to leave for Adora but I also knew she wouldn’t leave for herself until she witnessed the brutality and inequality hurting someone else.

#ask games #director's commentary #spop #catradora #fanfic #demons #writing #asks #ncamferdam

12 notes · View notes

batneko · 4 years

Note

Garou/Mumen

You didn’t specify which one so I’m just gonna do all of them. This is not a complaint.

who’s the werewolf and who’s the hunter

Garou werewolf, Mumen hunter, absolutely. Even taking into account that I’ve written werewolf!Mumen. Garou would NEVER be a hunter, so this is how it gotta be.

who’s the mermaid and who’s the fisherman

Mershark Garou! Or maybe octo!mer? (Shoutout to @paperficwriter)

who’s the witch and who’s the familiar

Have to think about this one… Hm… A sweet witch with a rowdy demon-cat, or a rebellious teen witch with a patient familiar (who is secretly steering him toward white witchery). Both have merits!

who’s the barista and who’s the coffee addict

Garou should absolutely never be given caffeine, so I’m gonna say he’s the barista. And Mumen needs his road fuel, okay, his body is a machine and he doesn’t like snapping at people. Coffee helps.

who’s the professor and who’s the TA

The obvious answer is Mumen but imagine Garou in his first year teaching entomology and the college assigned him Mumen since he’s TA’d for half the school and Garou’s all tsundere and insists he doesn’t need help but Mumen is so damn nice about it and…

who’s the knight and who’s the prince(ss)

Garou would chafe at all the chivalry involved with knighthood, so he’s the prince. Runaway, or lost, or far down the family tree. He saw firsthand that the way you’re born doesn’t mean a damn thing, so he doesn’t WANT to go back to his kingdom. Let ‘em rot.

But Sir Mumen rescued him (kinda, mostly) so Garou has to go back just so his family doesn’t think Mumen failed in his “quest.” Garou can always run away again. And once he does this, he won’t feel indebted to Mumen, and those butterflies will stop flapping around in his stomach. Right?

who’s the teacher and who’s the single parent

DAD MUMEN DAD MUMEN DAD MUMEN

who’s the writer and who’s the editor

Garou’s a writer of fantasy books full of antiheroes and cool monsters and moral gray areas

Mumen trims down the overly-loving details of the monsters’ bodies (not a lot, but some) and catches any plot threads that don’t go anywhere. Yes, Garou, your point about the so-called heroes wantonly destroying peaceful goblin villages is valid, but it doesn’t ever get mentioned again in the book and readers will be a bit confused by that.

#theunvanquishedzims #askbox #one punch man #opm #mumen/garou #mumarou #mumen rider #garou #licenseless rider #mumen x garou

43 notes · View notes

churchyarddirt · 5 years

Note

Girl! You already knew I love your blog. Can i have Muzan x Reader where Reader is an uppermoon who Muzan like to mess around ( you know sexy time ) with but Muzan also messed around with other demons as he please. Thank u.

Tysm! I love your blog too ^w^ you didnt specify if you want headcanons or scenarios so I'll stick them up together, but mostly headcanons

Y/n was upper moon 5, not too strong but compared to other demons - much stronger

Y/n became upper moon 4 years ago, at first Muzan hadn't payed much attention to her.

But unlike our demon lord, Y/n was head over heels in love

From the first time he cupped her cheeks and said "Y/n...You've been doing a pleasant job, you deserve to be amongst the upper kizuki, dont you think so?" He asked her one delightful night, Y/n was just done eating her weekly meal, she devoured over 49 people. So we can way she was one bloody mess

Even though Muzan hadn't felt anything towards her, he knew he liked her by appearance, he found her attractive

"You will start off as upper moon 5, do not disappoint me..." Muzan's deep voice echoed trough the Minka, he brought up his hand towards her eyes, gently brushing the air between them. Y/n's eyes got certain kanji after all "Y-Yes...Muzan-sama"

Y/n did amazing job but hadn't interacted with Muzan much, since she was new she wasnt summoned to most meetings and even if she did Nakime was the one here, reporting information to Y/n

Of course due to Muzan's temper, Y/n had to get punished for a small misunderstandings.

Basicaly she met Tanjirou and Nezuko and just ignored them, when they were really big threat and were on hunting, Y/n just simply forgot that all demons were ordered to kill them, she proceeded to eat humans somewhere else. And of boy how angry Muzan was

Y/n was sure she would die but he didnt kill her, just called her useless and paethethic

Veins popped on Muzans forehead "You call yourself an upper moon and you made such a blind mistake" he scoffed, his expression was displeased but Nakime and Y/n knew this was just 5% of anger that he felt "I-Im so sorry Kibutsuji-sama, I just forgot and went on w-" Y/n bowed on the flood, Suddenly he appeared in front of her "Who allowed you to speak?" He questioned, making Y/n gulp, looking up at him and by this way automatically giving him good access to her neck. Muzan suddenly gripped onto the females neck and picked her whole weight up, to face him. They had quite noticeable height difference so her feet hanged in the air. Muzan frowned

"What will happen if you will make similar mistake in the future, will you...." he cut his sentence mid off, Y/n's thoughts were something different, defiantly not what he expected

'Yeez...Should I be scared or aroused', 'I honestly dont mind him choking me' 'I hope it wont end soon' at this point Muzan knew that what Y/n felt for him wasnt just strong admiration

If it was another demon he would be disgusted, but for some reason he was quite amused Y/n felt this way. His face was now not frowning, but blunt. He had zero emotions, but he was in deep thinking, he slowly and gently removed the force from her neck, now choking her lightly 'Yes...there much better...why isn't he speaking?' Muzan read thoughts, he observed her. A pleasant smirked formed. He released her from his grip turning around and leaving her alone "If you will make mistakes again...there would be more severe punishments" he commented before gesturing Nakime to teleport her away

Ever since then we could say they both shared similar feelings towards each other, just no one of them showed it correctly

As time passed Y/n developed her style, she always had a lot of cleavage, not like daki but still cleavage.

One day Y/n was teleported to upper meeting, there she officially meet every upper demon member, she hit it off well with Douma - He was so curious and friendly with her after all!

Not long after Muzan appeared, wearing his vest suit and white clothing, with black pants, the casual and glamourous outfit of his. Y/n noticed no one bowed but rather just greeted him "Good day Muzan-sama~" Douma shouted, Muzan probably had good relationship with them

My my how wrong you were

Trough out the meeting he removed the heads of several upper demons, and they all didnt bother. Woah

Muzan leaned onto the table "Tell me your Acomplishemnts" he commended, his expression was always blunt and hard to read, he didnt seem interested in their speech at all "Y/n..." Muzan interpreted Akaza's speech, making you focus all your attention on him, he slowly patted on the wooden pattern "come here" he ordered, his expression unchanged.

'DOOES HE WANT ME TO SIT ON THE TABLE NEXT TO HIM-HGHGJ?!'

Muzan grinned at your thoughts "Continue akaza" he said with more pleased tone, sucking in the stressful and negative tention away. All other moons were more at ease.

You did as he said, and of course your thoughts did their best job at amusing Muzan, all the scenarios of him claiming you over and over on this table really intrigued him, no demon had ever dared to think so boldly of him, and not to mention he liked the way you looked, Muzan didn't mind.

"Disccust and prepare teams for attack on hajimeri hill" Muzan ordered, the demons started separating into teams and making a plan, they often worked together. You assumed you had to join them so you jumped down from the table, ready to leave.

However as soon as you started to walk Muzan quickly forced you back with his hand. He forced you to go under him, you could feel your ass pressing into the table harshly, your eyebrows frowned out of confusion, Muzan had small grin before griping your throat again

This time he wasnt too harsh, justcright to your liking. His fingers gently massaged your neck, making you close your eyes.

Oh how you wished this lasted forever

"You do know one of mine abilities..." He asked, making you open your resting eyes "...is the ability to read minds of my demons?"

This sentence

THIS ONE SENTENCE

made you regret you were born 'He read all my fantasies, all my dirty thoughts-' your mind was one messy place now. You tried to look away but his finger that was gently massaging your neck suddenly was harshly pressed onto your chin, keeping you in place

You couldn't comprehend your emotions "I'm so sorry I will stop-" Muzan's nails imtefierd with your skin, making you gasp. He was filling you up with his blood again

Before you could speak again he connected your lips together. It wasnt a messy kiss, just a small peck. But of course this wasnt the way he wanted to kiss you, you would find out soon.

From that day on he teased you and touched you as he pleased

At first it was just a constant need to have you close to him, now he groped you and touched you all the time

Whenever there was another upper moons meeting he would have you on his lap, and you always knew you were leaving the last.

Your most memorable memory with him was when he invited you to his house

And hardcore fucked you in front of his sleeping pretend wife. It was amazing quite/silent sex

Once Muzan ripped your top clothing off and groped you for 2 hours straight while you sat on his lap, you were glad you two were alone.

Whenever he wanted for you to give him attention he would come to you from behind, push your hair down and press you closer

But one day, he stopped messing with you in front of other demons, he didnt touch your ass or ordered to sit on his lap anymore.

You thought it would bother you that much, but it honestly made you...sad?

That's how it was for a week. Another meeting was held. Like always your stayed the longest. You tippy toed your way to Muzan that didnt seem to notice your presence at all "Muzzn-sama" you muttered, he lazily turned around to face you "Take a sit..." he ordered with a long sigh

You took a seat on his table, you were about to ask him what was wrong but he hugged you before you could utter a word.

Sure you two cuddled after sex in bed but this type of affection wasn't in your life. He pressed his face in your chest as his hands wrapped around your waist.

"I want you all to myself" he said, not emebrased or too happy. All you could is was just to accept it and gently brush his head

He didnt grope you around others but he was effectionate other ways, like hugging your waist, his hand on your hip/waist/shoulder. You could see the connection

But one thing bothered Y/n

It was Daki

Muzan called her special demon and even cupped her cheeks. Y/n wasn't pleased with it!

One night she headed to the forest with Muzan, all he did was cup her cheeks "I can do as I please Y/n, You should just be quite about it. Green doesn't suit you" he mocked her, Y/n was displeased but there wasn't anything she could do

Muzan held her hand firmly in his, even though he liked teasing Y/n, he knew that if there was a demok women who would bear his kids - It would be Y/n

Bonus

Y/n took a seat at his office, she was summoned by him. It wasnt the first time she was here, making herself at home she ordered his maid to make her a tea "Its good to see you my Muzan-sama" she greeted him with a yawn "Y/n...didnt I told you my opinion about you wearing short skirts" Muzan questioned her, his eyes still carved into paper work, oops. After he made it clear that she belonged to him, muzan hated seeing her wearing too revealing clothes "I didnt punish you, and I wont" this sentence made Y/n smile. But she knew he will want to receive something from her later. "I've been so good to you lately, you've been walking around as you please" he said in mocking tone "Y/n dont you think you are too selfish?" Y/n giggled at his words "So what are our conclusions" he asked, taking another paper. When he aske it, the answer always was 'I will change Muzan-sama' or 'I understand that I failed and I will do as you please' but Y/n was too goofy that day. Like a tiger she made her way closer to him, she sat bare ass on his table in front of him. Her legs on his papers. This made Muzan look at her instantly "The conclusions..." she questioned before gently cupping Muzans cheeks "That you are the best thing in my life" Muzan was dumbfounded, her little joke resulting in brutal make out session on his lap

#muzan #Muzan Kibutsuji #muzan x reader #muzanxreader

140 notes · View notes

ashintheairlikesnow · 5 years

Text

Daniel Michaelson: The Adoption

I meant to write the baking-cookies drabble from Danny’s adoption stuff came out instead! Whoops. No warnings for this, beyond it being pretty bittersweet - takes place in the past, when Danny is five years old.

I’ll tag the usual people - even though this isn’t really whump. But it’s background for Danny!

@finder-of-rings, @bleeding-demon-teeth, @spiffythespook, @special-spicy-chicken

“He’s small,” The woman says, looking down at him, and Danny tries to straighten his back and make himself as tall as he possibly can. His hair sticks up a lot, which he has to hope helps at least a little. “Why is he so small? The papers I looked at said he’s five years old, has been since July.”

“He was born premature,” The social worker says without looking up from her paperwork.

She’d brought Danny a cheeseburger Happy Meal and he’d inhaled every single bite and licked all the salt off his fingers afterward, so happy to have enough food to feel full and not have to fight any of the other kids for a single bit of it. He was currently twisting back and forth the little arms of the plastic toy man that had been inside the box, making him fight an invisible bad guy that kept punching him but he couldn’t see it.

The toy man was from some movie, but it wasn’t out were Miss Karla could buy it yet, so he didn’t really know anything about it. Fighting an invisible bad guy seemed like the right thing to do with him.

Bam, Danny thought to himself, making a mean snarling face. Punch him, kick his head.

“He was born eight weeks early, according to medical records,” The social worker continues, giving a loose, casual shrug. “He spent three weeks in the NICU before he went to his first placement.” This social worker was a new one, way younger than the last social worker. She didn’t seem to like him very much, but actually Danny thought mostly she looked more tired than angry, so maybe she didn’t mind him like some of the others did.

The woman sitting at the table leans over, her voice pitched low, probably thinking Danny can’t hear her. Little pitchers have big ears, they said all the time at Kindergarten. He didn’t know exactly what that meant, other than adults said it to shut each other up when he was in the room. “Were there drug issues? We specified that we were not interested in taking on a greater than average amount of obligation-”

“He’s not a dog, Mrs. Michaelson,” The social worker says, looking up with the barest hint of an edge to her voice, and Danny fights back the tiniest little smile. It’s kind of nice, having one who sticks up for him. Usually they don’t. “But I understand what you’re trying to say, or at least what I hope you’re trying to say. Please understand that your guidelines were taken into account by the agency you contracted when they contacted us. Daniel was premature due to pregnancy-related complications with the mother, that’s all.”

“Complications? Does that mean there’s a family history of serious health concerns? Did his mother die?” The woman’s fingers stopped tapping again, and Danny looks back at his toy, but some of the shine has gone out of having a new thing (and Danny doesn’t exactly have a lot of things just for him), because he knows the answer to that question.

She gave me up.

The social worker’s eyes go to him, and Danny ignores her, setting his jaw in an angry, pouting line, and the invisible bad guy punched his toy until he died. Then he lived and got back up, but the dead part was pretty satisfying.

The social worker looks back at the pretty woman in the nice clothes and jewelry and sighs, a little sadly. “No, she didn’t. She chose to, um, to place him with state care.”

“Do you know why she chose to-”

“She was thirteen years old, Mrs. Michaelson,” The social worker says quietly, so quietly Danny almost misses it. Thirteen isn’t very old, he thinks. One of his foster brothers, Craig, is thirteen, and he’s not even in high school yet. Danny could count to thirteen easily and without even needing help when he was four years old, so he knows it can’t be a very high number. That makes him think. If he’s five years old and his real mother was thirteen years old, then thirteen plus five is… Danny counts on his fingers, trying to remember.

If it’s ten eleven twelve thirteen… then it’s fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen… eighteen.

That would make his real mom eighteen.

Danny sits back, proud of himself for doing the counting all in his head and on his fingers, without having to ask the grown-ups, who were still talking about him like he couldn’t hear them.

Most grown-ups did.

“You can understand,” His social worker was saying, “Why a thirteen-year-old might make such a choice with even the healthiest baby. The home life was... not ideal.”

“I can understand.” The woman’s mouth purses a little, like she has a bite of food in her mouth she doesn’t like. “Poor thing. But you’re sure he’s healthy?”

The social worker shrugs. “He could use more time out in the sun and probably someone who lets him play outside more often, but… he’s healthy enough. He measured between 6th and 13th percentile straight through from birth until now, and his growth is steady. Honestly, ma’am, with a decent enough food intake he’d probably grow faster and catch right up. But...”

The social worker waves her hand around the house they’re sitting in, a vague gesture that means nothing to Danny - but the woman sitting at the table nods very seriously, and so Danny tries to look serious, too.

The woman raises an eyebrow and looks around the dining room. The large table has enough chairs for twelve people to sit, and Danny is unlucky number thirteen - the youngest - so he was used to sitting at the card table off in the corner, where he sat now, swinging his legs in the folding chair and making the toy man run across the table and dive-bomb towards the floor.

When he makes the little exploding sound, the woman sitting at the table - she has pretty brown skin and black hair, and funny honey-colored eyes - smiles at him, and he smiles right back at her. She has a really, really pretty smile - warm and nice.

His foster mother is nowhere to be seen - Miss Carla didn’t really like talking to his social worker anyway, and she had been furious to hear about the rich lady coming to look at Danny, which… Danny didn’t really get, since getting adopted was a good thing.

Then again, Miss Carla didn’t exactly like him very much. Danny had a mouth, Miss Carla said all the time, and Danny would just grin at her with all his teeth inside that mouth.

Then he called her whatever names the older boys had taught him, only he got in trouble because the words were different when the older boys said them, for some reason.

His social worker had told him this lady and her husband had chosen him straight away after seeing his photo, and so he had combed his own red hair this morning nice and careful (no one else ever did) and dressed in his absolute best clothing - his favorite blue T-shirt and his good brown pants, his Sunday pants.

He wasn’t sure if the lady at the table had noticed, but he was sort of hoping so.

“How are his academics?” The lady at the table asks, glancing over at him again. He smiles brightly at her, trying to get her to smile again - he’s pretty sure she likes him. He’s little, and he’d heard Miss Carla say that little kids get adopted faster.

His biggest foster brothers probably won’t, he thinks, if that’s true. They’re both big and mean, and they look older than they really are. Parents won’t want them, even if Miss Carla likes them the best because they act like her.

“I’m in kindergarten,” Danny speaks up, holding the little toy man in his hands, nervously twisting at his arms again. His voice is high and clear, and he swings his legs a little harder where he sits. “I have lots of good days on my take-home sheets. More good than bad, Miss Carla says.”

“That’s right, Daniel, you do,” His social worker replies, and she smiles at him, finally - a thin and tired smile - as she flips through the paperwork she brought with her in a big folder with his name on it and his photo paperclipped to the outside. “Daniel’s in his first year at public school,” She says to the lady at the table. “He’s in a class of 25-”

“My God.” The woman at the table puts a hand up to her chest. “We’re looking at an exclusive Montessori for our little boy with an average class size of eight - I showed you his photo, the three-year-old. Obviously Daniel would also attend, I’ve already ensured him a spot should we bring him home, I’m good friends with the director. I just cannot imagine attempting to corral so many five year olds-”

“Most of them are already six, actually - Daniel is the third-youngest in his class. In any case, based on his school reports, he excels at academics and struggles with focus, sitting still, and social interactions. Makes sense for the age and his current… ah, situation.” The social worker looks at him again, and Danny sits himself up just a little straighter, making the toy man wave his little movable arm at her.

The smile this time is less tired, and more real.

“Does he do well with younger children?” The woman at the table asks. “I mentioned our other son - he’s just turning three. Any aggression would be absolutely unacceptable-”

“He loves younger children actually - his last placement was with a foster home that had very young babies and toddlers other than him, about a year ago for three months, and his foster parents reported that he was very gentle and loving with the younger children. I’ve been told he changed diapers, watched the younger ones, and was very good at comforting younger children at night.”

Well, Danny thinks to himself, nobody else woke up as fast as I did, so...

“Ryan doesn’t wear diapers any longer, so we’re not worried about that, but… why was he moved, if he was so good with them?”

Danny looked down at the floor, because he knew the answer to this question, too.

Because she was growing a new baby and there wasn’t any room anymore.

“His previous foster mother became pregnant,” The social worker says brusquely, waving one hand in a dismissive way. “All the foster children in that home were moved to new placements at the couples’ request.”

“That must have been hard on the children,” The lady says, and her voice changes a little. It’s softer, but angrier at the same time. “They must have bonded. The young ones bond so quickly-”

The social worker shrugs. “It’s not uncommon. Daniel had some… difficulty adjusting here, but he’s doing well now.”

“Difficulty?”

“It’s all in the paperwork,” The social worker replies, looking uneasily over at Danny again, who only stares back at her with his best totally-blank ‘I wasn’t listening’ face, even though he absolutely was. “He had conflicts with his new foster brothers, missed the little ones. Struggled with the change in schedules and rules. That happens with every new move, learning a whole new household.”

“So… when he moved, he doesn’t see the other children any longer?”

The social worker blinks, surprised by this line of questioning. “Ah, no. He has no further contact with them, that would be… incredibly difficult to put together, considering he’s not related to any of the other foster children. It really isn’t an uncommon situation, kids in the system tend to adapt really quickly to the loss of foster siblings.”

The lady at the table’s mouth thins, just a little. Danny watches, fascinated, at the way her honey eyes shift, and for a second he sees them flash a really pretty purple. Then the color was gone, before he even blinked.

The social worker isn’t looking up, and didn’t see it, and honestly maybe Danny just made it up. He did that sometimes.

“If we come to a decision in favor of bringing him home,” The lady at the table says, her voice firm and warm and calm, “It should be with the understanding that it will be permanent. I dislike the idea of such a young child being moved around so often, that cannot be healthy.”

“It’s not, Mrs. Michaelson, but that’s the system we work with.” The social worker sighs. “Daniel, will you come over here for a second? Mrs. Michaelson wants to speak with you.”

Mrs. Michaelson hadn’t said any such thing, but Danny shrugs and nods, hopping off the chair to walk over to her, tilting his head and looking up and up and up at her pretty eyes. No purple at all.

“Hi,” He says, politely. “You can just say Danny. I don’t really like Daniel.”

The woman - Mrs. Michaelson - nods, slowly, thoughtfully, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “He really is exactly what we had in mind when we began discussing bringing a child home for-... to be a sibling for Ryan,” Mrs. Michaelson says, her voice softer and more gentle now that he stood right there with her. She turns her eyes back to Danny and leans down to get a little closer to him. “I have a little boy named Ryan at my house. Do you think you could be nice to him?”

“Oh, sure,” Danny replies, nodding, because that’s what he’s supposed to say. And he really does like the littler kids - he’s small and littler kids don’t pick on him like all the big kids do. “I always think it’s fun to play big brother. Is your house very big? Would I share with him?”

“Share?” Mrs. Michaelson cocked her head, and it was like Miss Carla’s cockatoo in its cage, and Danny giggled a little. She smiled at the sound. “Oh, like a bedroom? No, darling, you would have your own room, of course you would.”

“Then I think I could be a good big brother,” Danny says, with a grave and thoughtful voice he thought sounded very grown-up. He was rewarded with another smile. Mrs. Michaelson looks him over one more time, taking in his skinny arms and the freckles scattered across his face and the rest of him darkened by the time he spent just sitting outside in the sun.

“He really does fit the profile we were hoping for exactly,” Mrs. Michaelson says, but her voice is very quiet and she seems to be talking more to herself than Danny or even the social worker. “They’re looking for Ryan, but that hair, those freckles… that’s what they think they need to look for, isn’t it? They think we’ re meant to be Irish, but oh no, we’ll fool them, won’t we? We always have...”

“Huh?” Danny cocks his head right back at her, and she laughs, a brilliant, sparkling sound that he loves already.

“I’m sorry, what?” The social worker asks, looking up.

“Oh, nothing,” Mrs. Michaelson says breezily. “Just muttering to myself. I don’t need to speak with Patrick about this, I’ve already decided. We’ll move forward with the adoption immediately.” The social worker smiles, and the two women begin to speak in low tones, throwing words and terms and stuff back and forth Danny hadn’t heard before and doesn’t know. He steps a little closer, and a little closer still.

Danny blinks.

He blinks again.

“The what?”

The two women turn to look down at him.

“Oh,” The social worker says, surprised. “Daniel. Mrs. Michaelson would like to consider adopting you. Would you like to go stay with her and see how it works out?”

“Go stay? For real?” Danny’s heart starts to beat fast inside of him, like when he stands up in front of music class to sing. He smiles, and he clutches onto the little toy man as tightly as he can. “For really real?”

Mrs. Michaelson laughs again, and he hopes she will laugh like that for him a lot when he goes to her house. “For really real,” She says with a nod, and leans over to tap the end of his nose with one finger.

“I, I, I’ll go get my things! I don’t have a lot of things, but I do have, I have a little dog I carry around his name is, um, his name is Scruff and he has a collar but I can get him and I have some clothes-” Danny starts to turn, only for both women to laugh.

He stops and looks back at them, suddenly embarrassed, his face burning bright red under his freckles, feeling his lower lip stick out all on its own. Miss Carla is always telling him to pout less, but he can’t stop, it’s not his fault, the lip just does that.

“Oh,” He says, and feels a wave of hurt and mad. “Oh, it was a joke. I thought you meant for really real.”

The social worker is the first to understand, and her expression goes serious and thoughtful. “Daniel, we’re not laughing because it was a joke. It’s not, Mrs. Michaelson really does want to bring you home to meet her little boy.”

“I do,” Mrs. Michaelson says. “As soon as I can. We were only laughing because you were so excited - and it can’t happen right away, it takes a little while. The agency has already put everything in motion, of course,” She says sidelong to the social worker. “It’s just a matter of getting all the right papers to the right people.”

“Of course.”

“Then we’ll take you home, Daniel,” Mrs. Michaelson says to him, and bops him on the nose again. He hates when his foster brothers do this - they always flick the end of his nose and make it hurt - but he kind of likes it, from her.

“Yeah? Not a joke?” Danny’s head goes back up, and he searches both of their faces for signs it’s still just a mean joke, like when Conrad apologizes and then smacks his head again and he didn’t mean the apology at all. “For really really real?”

“Not a joke,” Mrs. Michaelson says, and there’s a sweet little smile on her face as she puts her hand out, littlest finger crooked. “Pinkie swear.”

Danny puts his hand up, too, and he hopes that she understands how much it really means when you say you pinkie swear a thing, because that means you have to do it.

“For really really really really real,” He says, seriously. “You have to mean it or you shouldn’t say it.”

“I mean it,” Mrs. Michaelson says softly. “I really, really mean it. Don’t worry, Danny. I’m going to bring you home to stay with us, and you’ll be just like another son. My little boy Ryan is going to love you. He’s always asking for a brother.”

“Are you going to love me?”

The question startles the two women, who blink down at him in unison.

Then Mrs. Michaelson leans over to tuck a curly bit of bright red hair behind one ear, and smile. “I’m sure I will.”

#Daniel Michaelson's story #not whump #but from a whump story #tiny child danny #corrine michaelson is a bad mom #but he really thought she'd be a great one #poor guy #whump #fiction #daniel michaelson is a tall smol bean #but he used to be a very tiny one #tw: depictions of less than ideal foster care

141 notes · View notes

normal-thoughts-official · 5 years

Note

I love your Magnus responses! Some have brought me to tears :') hopwfully you haven't answered this yet. I always see fics/ metas on how Alec came to terms about his sexuality, but never on Magnus (or just a selecative few). In your opinion how did he come to terms with his bisexuality? - luxxmagnus

okay first of all I LOVE UR BLOG im so glad u like my shit omg fajsfoamsa and second of all BOY DO I HAVE THOUGHTS ABOUT HOW MAGNUS CAME TO TERMS WITH HIS SEXUALI-

okay SO. your relationship with sexuality is deeply influenced by your early years, as is, well, most aspects of your personality lol. so i think it’s fascinating to think about magnus’ relationship with his gender identity and sexuality considering he was born in early-1600s indonesia, aka right when the colonization started. meaning, a lot of their customs and views on gender and sexuality couldn’t have possibly been erased yet, but they were being very violently and aggressively repressed. and then he finished his growing-up years with asmodeus, a demon, who can’t really give much of a fuck about gender identity and sexuality. so this means a very complicated relationship is bound to develop, and i love it.

unfortunately, magnus’ exact ethnic background isn’t specified in SH (nor tsc, i believe) which makes the whole discussion a lot harder because there are hundreds of native peoples in indonesia. however, they were very much in contact with each other both before and after the dutch invasion and subsequent colonisation, so what i’m gonna do here is talk a little bit about the views on the subject magnus was definitely aware of, and go from there

i know this specifically asked about his bisexuality so i will refrain from shitting my trans magnus headcanon all over the place but i will say that the Bugis people recognised five genders, including one for AFAB people who identified as neither male nor female, and one that embodied both female and male identities

anyway, queerphobia is, in fact, a very recent and very european thing, and most indonesian people, like most asian people and most non-modern-western peoples, were actually A-okay with what we view today as homosexuality. there were even many rituals centered around men-on-men and women-on-women practices. they were also pretty open with sexuality as a whole; there’s even a mountain with a shrine where people have sex with strangers as part of their religious worship.

but, as we know, the european colonizers were very intent on killing off and erasing all records of their dominated cultures, particularly the aspects that directly challenged the european model of gender, sexuality and relationships, to the point where we, ppl born in previously colonised countries, don’t even know about our culture’s views on gender and sexuality. in indonesia, the dutch criminalised homosexuality and we can’t forget that magnus’ stepfather was dutch, and that magnus was born after the colonisation.

so here’s the context: since it was very early in the colonisation days, there is no way that magnus didn’t know about the very rich and diverse gender and sexuality practices in his own country. there’s just no way. it takes decades to completely erase that shit. and we can’t forget that all indonesian peoples resisted colonisation, a lot. we don’t know the exact nature of magnus’ mother’s relationship with his stepfather, but it is very likely that he either enslaved or forced her to be in a relationship with him, because - well, because that’s colonisation, folks. it’s what these guys do. this is also supported by the way his stepfather treated magnus, because i mean, what the fuck. it was extremely rare that native colonised ppls would willingly be with their coloniser, particularly considering how the dutch were just, like, casually deporting and starving indonesian native ppls and ppl in java had been at war with the portuguese would-be settlers (would-be because they lost amazingly lmao get rekt) since the beginning of the 1500s. so im gonna go out on a limb here and say that magnus’ “stepfather” was, in fact, an abusive piece of shit coloniser who probably mistreated magnus’ mother and was probably a huge reason why she killed herself - i mean, your people are dying, and you’re bound to this guy who abuses and rapes you and keeps telling you everything about you and the way you live and was raised is demonic, that’s just bound to mess with you. actually, the religious aspect of colonisation that taught ppl that their cultures and religious were demonic and immoral and that they either had to repent for that and submit to the colonisers or be killed slash go to hell, hmmm…… well, is probably related to the fact that the idea that magnus was demon-related was repulsive enough to her that she killed herself? and that’s if we go with the interpretation that magnus was the main reason, which isn’t really reliable because 1- magnus clearly thinks he needs to Save Everyone and is bound to think that if anyone gets hurt it’s his fault; 2- canonically, it was magnus’ stepfather who told magnus that the reason she killed herself was magnus’ heritage. i mean i find it hard to believe personally that magnus’ mom didn’t know she was fucking a demon or at least a supernatural entity of some sort, and the whole angel-demon division is a christianity thing anyway, so what the fuck does this mean to magnus’ mom, really? especially considering that, unlike magnus, she probably was alive before the settlers arrived, so it’s even harder to believe that she would just uncritically believe everything about good and evil she was being taught by the guys that were, you know, committing mass genocide. i personally think that if magnus’ eyes were related to her killing herself at all (which makes less and less sense the more i think about it. i mean, what, was he born glamoured? surely she knew about this before he was like 11 or something) it would be because, in a way, this proved that everything she was being told about herself was true. she was demonic, her culture was demonic, and they deserved the absolutely horrific and traumatic things that were happening to them, and her son’s eyes proved it. so it’s not really about magnus as it is about, like, the entire continent of Europe’s bullshit. and anyway, again, everything she was going through was extremely traumatic - i think magnus’ eyes would be almost an afterthought, if considered at all.

anyway, sorry, went on a huge tangent here, i have no self control whatsoever. what i’m trying to say is that magnus grew up in an environment where expressions of different gender and sexuality were very repressed, but he was born in the heart of the very resistance. he was a native man (or, well, boy) and he knew for a fact that most people lived outside of the constricting western gender and sexuality binary, and he lived in a time where the europeans hadn’t really managed to dominate and erase their culture - of course, they never truly did, but the differences were way more latent. so magnus’ views on the whole thing were probably among the lines of “the asshole white people think the way we live is bad and are trying to kill us and that’s why they’re assholes and we’re trying to kick them out, but currently me and my mom are on their hands so i’m gonna have to behave like they expect me to”. so, lots of abuse, a very complicated relationship, but i do believe that magnus wouldn’t have internalised the european bullshit because, well, he was seeing the counterpoint and the resistance and he certainly knew which side was “his”. also in his flashbacks he’s wearing traditional indonesian clothing so there’s that - proof that he wasn’t completely assimilated to european views and culture.

and then he killed the stepfather (good riddance, rot in hell) and went to live his final teenage years with asmodeus. i mean, more like was found by asmodeus and forced to be with him by both the circumstances and asmodeus himself, but you get what i’m saying.

here’s the thing: asmodeus is definitely an asshole and an abuser, but i can’t bring myself to believe he gave a good fuck about modern-western gender roles and sexuality. he is older than them. by a lot. and he doesn’t even care about the earth realm that much, his whole thing is that he wants to rule edom, so i’m not even sure if he knows about them beyond the, like, very very basics. maybe not even that. so during the rest of magnus’ formative years, and probably the time he figured out what exactly his sexuality was anyway, he was in a pretty open environment when it came to that.

so with that we’ve reached the first conclusion of this huge-ass essay that you probably didn’t sign up for: up until he went to England, Magnus was probably pretty comfortable when it came to his sexuality. like, shit, he was fucked up about everything else, but this one thing i can’t see him internalising a lot of.

i’m gonna fast forward the asmodeus years because i don’t have a lot to say beyond that and also i have no fucking clue what the fuck was going on during that time????????? like it ended when magnus banished him to edom, so i can only assume they were on the earth realm the whole time, but what exactly were they doing???? no clue. i am gonna say, tho, that i think one of the reasons why magnus managed to break out of asmodeus’ shitty “be evil” conditioning is precisely because he had been on the other side before?? like obviously magnus must have been an extremely compassionate kid (which again makes absolute sense in the context of him being part of an oppressed people that were trying their hardest to fight together. you learn a few things about community-building and taking care of others in that context, lemme tell you) since he was out there blaming himself for his mom’s death and also for killing his literal piece of shit stepfather who also tried to kill him as well, but i think it’s just that much harder to help your dad commit mass murder when you’ve been on the receiving end of it. obviously he was probably around asmodeus for a while (i’m thinking until he was like, 18? you know, enough to be an adult), especially considering how he needed the help to learn how to master his magic and also he had nowhere else to go, and also asmodeus was all over the place with “they will always think you’re an abomination, i’m the only one who understands you” and he had eyes like him and all. but still. he knew that he didn’t want that, he knew that he liked earth and didn’t like edom at all and he knew that in order to be himself he’d need to get rid of asmodeus. so he did.

anyway, after the First Great Yeeting Of Asmodeus (second yeeting was when he sent him to limbo so he would never be able to come back. ugh we stan) Magnus went to England. I’m guessing that somehow he met other warlocks during his time with asmodeus (which actually makes sense, i mean, asmodeus must have been wanting ppl to join forces with so he could defeat lilith? or something like that idk they never said anything about what they were doing with their time magnus’ backstory’s got more holes than a swiss cheese) and there seems to be a pretty tight warlock community, so maybe he went to wherever it is that the warlocks meet to gossip and shit? trying to find somewhere else where he belonged. and there he met Ragnor, who helped him break out of his shell and find who he was beyond the constant abuse and the deeply ingrained idea that he was Born To Be Evil.

so for a while, magnus was learning who he was, and again the Warlock Community should be pretty open with gender and sexuality considering most of them are also older than western binary bullshit and also come from different, non-european backgrounds. it was probably at this point that he started going around, having relationships, looking for someone who loves him and somewhere to belong in, you know. haha im fine and soon he figured out that he wanted to find out more about the world. magnus is a curious and creative guy, he’s going around inventing portals and shit, he wants to see the world. so magnus goes to the mundane world. it makes sense, considering in most of his pics he seems to be in mundane settings, and there were no accords at that time. also i mean even post-accords magnus is still going around owning clubs where mundanes can get in so i think he’s quite fond of mundanes.

and that’s when shit comes crashing down, because “sodomy” was punishable by death in England until the 1960s and like boy these guys were not into the whole free sexuality thing. at all. i tend to think magnus would go looking for sex and stuff in downworlder and warlock spaces, where there was a lot more freedom and nobody gave a shit, but he was going around meeting people, and he’s vulnerable and he wants to be loved and he’s definitely been in relationships with mundanes. he knows he needs to hide it, but it doesn’t mean he’s uncomfortable with it. so he might get the occasional insult and he knows he needs to be careful, but this is one aspect of himself he’s actually okay with

but like, he’s spent centuries doing that, eventually shit would go down. and it does. i firmly believe that one of his lovers got caught and got the death penalty. magnus managed to escape but couldn’t save him, and i mean, that’s at least the third time he’s blaming himself for someone’s death. immortality is tiring, and he doesn’t feel like he belongs anywhere. there’s the shadow world, but even there he’s being looked down on because the shadowhunters are racist assholes. he’s got his friends, sure, but he’s never really felt worthy of any love, or like he belonged anywhere, and he’s been through so much abuse and being used and everything he touches seems to go to shit and he’s tired. and he’s killed someone he loved. again. so he goes to the bridge. and camille finds him, and stops him.

now, i don’t know if that’s how they’ve met of if it’s happened before, something like, seeing each other in parties and in downworlder spaces or something. but either way, he’s at a really low point, and that’s the first meaningful interaction they have - camille saves his life. he feels like she cares.

she’s not the only one who cares, obviously. so does ragnor, so does cat, so does dot and lots of other of his friends. but at this point, he’s feeling so empty it’s hard to believe that they care, and camille is all too quick to figure out his exact weaknesses - she’s there to listen to him when he wants to kill himself, i can only imagine the infodump that went on that night. he gives her all she needs to know - his fear of abandonment, his desire to be loved, his belief that he will never be accepted no matter what, his fear that he really is evil inside after all despite everything proving that he isn’t - to use against him perfectly. camille is smart. she’s also manipulative. and she also seems like a ticket into a somewhat normal world - she’s a woman, she’s immortal, she’s acting all sweet around him and telling him that she understands, that this is why she doesn’t mingle with mundanes, that it’s better if they’re just amongst themselves, that people like them can’t trust too much and need to stick together. slowly, she plants into him the idea that he’s gullible, has a weak judgement, and is just weak in general for going around thinking he could ever have a thing with mortals or could ever find a space to belong. she uses that to drive him away from his friends and make sure he does as she says. also, magnus owes her, doesn’t he? she saved his life. how can he fight her, when she saved his life? how can he say no to her? how can he disagree? he’s gullible, he’s weak, and she’s the only one who has enough patience for him. everyone else leaves. she’s all he has.

in conclusion: his sexuality is a huge factor in camille’s abuse, it’s what makes him vulnerable to her and gives her every tool she needs to manipulate him. it’s not direct, she’s not about to make fun or dismiss his bisexuality because she knows this is not something he’s internalised, but she can weaponize the trauma that queerphobia brings to his life, and so she does.

she wrecks him. like really really wrecks him, everything he’s built for himself, his identity, whatever he had of his confidence. like he was still trying to build all of that, but he was getting there, and she gets him back to ground 0 just like that. i think he only broke up with her because she started doing her more Clearly Immoral shit and magnus can’t do that. say what you want, but magnus’ actual nature has always been to care and to give all that he can for others. and camille is just evil mcbad. and her abuse goes a long way, but i don’t think anything could actually break magnus enough to be okay with hurting others. especially considering how most of his trauma seems to revolve around the fact that he believes he is constantly hurting others, and it seems to me - considering how he’s going all around the place helping everyone and sacrificing himself without a second thought - that helping others is even a way to cope somewhat, he doesn’t focus on himself, he does his job and helps others and doesn’t think about himself and so he copes, he can do what he’s good at and also believe he’s somehow “repenting” for “killing” his mother and stepfather (it was SELF FUCKING DEFENSE he didn’t murder him, but he does seem to believe he did). so that’s probably when they break up, when he realises that camille is just. keen on hurting others and she’s bored with him and his morals anyway. i know that in book canon apparently the reason they broke up was that she cheated on him, but again i don’t consider book canon and show canon to be the same canon, specially considering how magnus is a wildly different character in those. so i don’t think that would somehow be the last straw for him. camille probably was cheating on him left and right but he probably just believed that it was his fault, or just kept forgiving her anyway because he had nowhere to go and it should be enough that she loves him and saved him, right?

he doesn’t really get around to realising that camille is a straight-up abuser and awful person (as shown by the fact that he seems to still internalise the whole “camille saved my life” bullshit when she was really just manipulating him and using his vulnerability against him) but he does realise that he can’t keep looking for a partner as a solution to his issues. he also doesn’t really want to be in a relationship after her, not when he’s broken in more pieces than he was when he left asmodeus, and that was a lot of pieces as well. so he sleeps around and all, crafts this whole playboy persona of his, and locks his heart away. dedicates himself to the downworlder children he keeps adopting and trying to help, reconnects with ragnor and the other warlocks - who kind of knew what was going on and never blamed him for it or for growing distant with them because they’re amazing and probably have seen this happen many times before.

he also carefully avoids mundane men. he’s not risking getting anyone else hurt.

but then there’s the 60s and 70s, and he’s in bloody new york, and the queer community is shaping itself, and goddamn, after all the hurt and pain he’s seen due to sexuality, he’s not gonna ignore this. also, his Adopting Instincts are way too strong anyway, he can’t really see people struggling and not do anything. so he supports queer spaces, probably made pandemonium one, too - a particularly safe queer space, since she could use his wards to keep police out of his business and ensure everyone’s safety. he definitely was there at stonewall and subsequent protests and parades, keeping people safe, weakening gas bombs and the like with magic, making sure they managed to escape jail.

magnus’ relationship with the mundane queer community is kind of weird, then - he’s not an actual part of it, not really, and he’s particularly scared of getting attached then, so he guards his heart with even more determination than everywhere else. but he still wants to help, so he brings in his money, tries to keep them safe, participates in some community activities and volunteers, and occasionally talks to some kids who were just kicked out of home or something, who are dealing with self-loathing and fear, and even though he hasn’t gone through the whole “my sexuality is unnatural” thing or particularly hated that aspect of himself, he does know what it’s like to be cast away and seen as a monster, and to see himself as uncapable of being loved. so he listens and he talks about his experiences and tries to help as much as he can, and for the most part, he’s successful and he feels kind of accomplished in that sense. he might never have hated himself for his sexuality, but this is the first time he is fully able to bring it into his mundane life. and it also helps him deal with and talk about his other issues, even if he can’t be 100% frank about being an immortal being who does magic and shit, he can connect to these people in a lot of ways, and he also has his own scars brought in by homophobia even if they weren’t internalised in the same way. also, there are names popping up for what people are, homosexuality is being decriminalised all over the world (even in england, he’s heard), things are starting to look up.

as the 80s come up, he knows that a lot of things are changing - that white gay guys are getting more and more space, that the word “bisexual” is being popularised, but also that the reason for that is that a lot of gays and lesbians are trying to get bi ppl out of some spaces, that there’s a division going on between people who want to be seen as palatable and are willing to step over others to get it, and people who refuse to blend into an oppressive society, or just can’t, because they’re trans, they’re people of color, they’re sex workers and homeless and they can never be really assimilated when, even if they’re not getting the death penalty, they’re still getting killed and framed as criminals for existing.

magnus is a person of color as well, he’s bisexual (meaning one of the groups that were being cast away and despised by the white, “clean” gay movement) and he’s been there since the beginning, where these exact people that are being driven away were the only ones building the queer movement, so i think it’s pretty obvious who he “sided” with. not much changed in that aspect, then, since the spaces of queer resistance he was used to were the ones created by the “outcasts”. it was disappointing to see a movement that seemed so amazing at first get slowly gentrified and push the most vulnerable people away again, but at this point, he was used to seeing the divide, to drawing the short end, and at least he could continue as he was and try and help people, right? so life was good as a whole.

then the AIDS crisis happened, and shit that was SO rough. people were dying left and right, they had nowhere to go and there was so little he could do. of course he tried his best - pandemonium, like many other similar clubs, was definitely raising money to help the victims, and he was definitely volunteering to help them, along with catarina (who’s better at healing than he is, anyway), but even healing magic isn’t as simple as “begone, disease” and this was a completely new thing, anyway. there was little they could do beyond try and lessen the pain and symptoms and spend countless nights awake doing research and trying to figure out what exactly was causing this and what they could do to help and try to cure it. it’s endlessly frustrating and he gets to see a lot of people he knew, and talked to, and helped, die slowly while he was unable to do much, and shit is that a theme on his life. he also blames himself for not being able to work out a cure - what good is fucking magic if he can’t do this? - even if he and cat do figure out ways to help, at least. but they’re just two people and creating spells isn’t easy and it’s not like their patients have a lot of time, and also he needs to sleep, as cat and dot keep reminding him. the mundanes beat him to it, and for a while he can breathe again. but then there has been so much loss and death the community is in shambles and they’ve been set back one hell of a lot, and magnus is so tired. his friends help him, reassure him that it’s not his fault, and he’s okay, because he’s stronger now, he’s been getting better during all these years and a part of him is used to it - it never hurts less, but it does get easier to push through.

and then, well, there’s the whole war against valentine thing, and then the accords, so i think for a while magnus was kind of not very involved with the mundane world, and also this is already WAY to long to get into the 2000s and shit, but i will finish by saying that maybe after a few years magnus might get somewhat involved with the community again, because i just. really like the idea of magnus joining some kind of group of bisexual men and learning that SO MANY of them have gone through abusive experiences with straight girls that are scarily similar to his experience with camille, considering, you know, all the other layers involved and the fact that it happened centuries ago. and it kind of works as group therapy, and magnus finally realises that what he went through with camille was abuse, and that he’s not alone, and that queerphobia made him vulnerable, and that the fact that he is part of so many minorities can mean that, rather than not belonging anywhere, he belongs in many places and many different spaces, and he’s helped so many people in so many different ways. and then he finds out that there are other warlocks who are working as therapists and in there he can talk about his immortality issues and, well, other issues and he starts healing faster than before - he’s been healing ever since the breakup with camille, of course, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to open up to alec. like, of course, alec and him are soulmates and shit, but if he wasn’t in a better place he wouldn’t have allowed himself to fall for him like he did. and. yeah. magnus doing therapy and getting better and finding groups where he feels like he belongs, and realising camille was an abuser, please.

#ask #cosmicnovia #luxxmagnus #sh #shadowhunters #meta #magnus bane #magnus bane meta #history tag #queer history #sh meta #overflowing trashcan

42 notes · View notes

deputy-sarah-sux · 5 years

Note

can i be a psycho and your worst nightmare by asking ALL the writers asks?

You are a demon omg. I love it though this was so much fun to do.Since you didn’t specify fic specifically for some of these questions I’m just gonna write about The Devil Has Come for all of the “in xxx fic” asks.

Answers are below since this is such a long ask :):):)

1) How old were you when you first starting writing fanfiction? 12/13 it was between 7th and 8th grade and it was all anime fanfiction

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one?Far Cry 5, RDR2, Assassin’s Creed, DC, Marvel, Fallout, Skyrim, Preacher. Far Cry 5 is definitely my favorite to write for though

3) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer.Personally, I prefer OC’s, with OC’s I can build their character, give them a personality and growth. I like shaping the character as the world changes based on their actions

4) What is your favourite genre to write for?Action or romance unless I totally misread that question

5) If you had to choose a favourite out of all of your multi-chaptered stories, which would it be and why?The Devil Has Come!!! It was my first in the Far Cry fandom and it’s my baby. I love all the characters and the world that I’m building. It’s got action, romance, some twists, it’s exciting

6) If you had to delete one of your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why?If we’re talking things that I’m currently writing and enjoy writing then I guess Bridges only because it’s the same characters as TDHC just in an AU form so I’d survive without it.

7) When is your preferred time to write?Night, 10pm on basically.

8) Where do you take your inspiration from?Everywhere really? TV shows, movies, video games, other fics

9) In your xxx fic, what’s your favourite scene that you wrote?So far my favorite scene that I wrote in TDHC that has been published was either the confrontation with Rook in Chapter 11 or Jacob finding Sarah in the hotel in Chapter 8. They were both really fun to write.

10) In your xxx fic, why did you decide to end it like that? Did you have an alternate ending in mind?Well it hasn’t been ended yet, but there were two possible endings that I was originally considering. I’m not saying much more other than the ending that I went with is gonna hurt me when I eventually get to it.

11) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it?Not after posting but I have amended stories due to criticisms. If I’m a bit worried about a particular scene I’ll share the doc with my best lady @farcryfuckmeup and get her opinion. She usually points out things that aren’t great and I go from there. She’s the closet thing to a beta reader that I have.

12) Who is your favourite character to write for? Why?Sarah!!! She’s my best girl and I love her personality and attitude. In terms of canon characters though I’ve been writing some stuff from Arthur Morgan’s pov and that’s been really fun too. I really love playing around with his sense of self and morality.

13) Who is your least favourite character to write for? Why?I don’t have one yet? We’ll see how the future plays out there. It might be Ethan Seed but I’ve never written stuff for him so I’m not 100% sure.

14) How did you come up with the title for the xxx? - You can ask about multiple stories.Almost every fic name is from a song. The Devil Has Come is from Blues Saraceno’s “The River”, Icarus is from Bastille’s “Icarus”, and I’m not sure where Bridges is from but I’m 90% sure it was a song. The series that TDHC and it’s connected stories are a part of is called Bottom of the River from Delta Rae’s “Bottom of the River”.

15) If you write OC’s, how do you decide on their names?I use name generators for modern characters or look up names with a specific meaning. If the character is from the past (ie cowboy times or pirate times) I look up names popular in that century. Sarah’s name I got by looking up popular names with religious meanings and Sarah was on the list.

16) How did you come up with the idea for xxx?I came up with the idea for TDHC by playing co-op with @farcryfuckmeup. It was originally supposed to be a crackfic based on the dumbshit we did in-game. Then in my desperation to pretend that the game didn’t end the way it ends I started coming up with ways it could have gone differently and thus my fic was born.

17) Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on.I have so many wips! I’ll do a few because I’m in a sharing mood.Fallout 4 WIP: “‘You don’t even use power armor, why did you steal so many?’”RDR2 WIP: “Valentine was a crap town with crap people and even crappier whiskey. It was tiny and smelled like mud and horse shit and something else that she was pretty sure was vomit.”Another RDR2 WIP: “Trouble was the bastard was clingy apparently as he was hot on Arthur’s heel.”

18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?Yes, a few. I got bored or I decided to focus on other things. I do intend to one day finish them but who knows

19) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?The Devil Has Come!!! I can’t wait to write a sequel and I haven’t even finished the current fic.

20) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently?Sometimes I wish I’d written a follow up to my judge fic Joseph and his Judge. I’m not totally sure if I like how it ended.

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?@farcryfuckmeup first and foremost, she’s amazing. I also love gwennolmarie and OutlandishWhalesharks on Archive of Our Own.

22) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it?My anime fics from middle school. It’s still posted and I won’t tell you what it’s called but every time I remember it a little part of me dies.

23) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence?Music mostly but it sometimes depends on the scene. For certain scenes I need silence but for the most part it’s music music music. I have playlists for all sorts of scene types.

24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes?I love it, idk if I’m any good at it but I do like writing them.

25) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story?Yes, I’ve been writing some future parts of TDHC and I have cried a bit writing some of it.

26) Which part of your xxx fic was the hardest to write?The smut scene in Chapter 10 of TDHC, it was the first smut scene I’d ever published so I was really worried about that and kept rewriting it.

27) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow?Bit of both I guess. There is a vague outline in my head but only for like the big events, everything in between is go with the flow shit.

28) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fanfiction?It’s not going to be an instant hit. When I first started posting works back in the day I was always so upset when I’d check the next day and see only like 12 people had read it.

29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?Icarus :( It’s only a baby fic and it’s in a mostly dead fandom but I love it.

30) In contrast to 29 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?No, I love all the attention my fics get.

31) Send me a fic recommendation and I’ll post it for my followers to see! (The asker is to send the rec not the answerer)I’m gonna recommend one myself. Since this is a Far Cry blog I’ll recommend a Far Cry fic: come a little closer by lowtides on AO3Also here’s a Fallout 4 fic that isn’t finished but I absolutely love: RAIDERHEAD by TaraTargaryen

32) Are any of your characters based on real people?No real people no. Thomas is a combination of a few fictional characters though.

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?I’ve gotten a few comments of analysis on chapters I’ve posted and honestly I love that so much. Nothing warms my heart more than seeing that someone not only read my fic but sat there and actually thought a lot about it.

34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?Like I said before I haven’t gotten a lot of criticism, but I guess the harshest for me was when I was discussing a character that I had really started to like and my friend (who I was ranting at about him) asked me to honestly think about what he brings to the table. Like is he actually necessary or just a throwaway character that won’t bring much to the story? I ended up scrapping him and putting a nameless character in his place to fill a few of his scenes.

35) Do you share your story ideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest?I share them with one (1) person and that person is my irl best friend @farcryfuckmeup. Everyone else has to wait until I post stuff I don’t want to spoil any big surprises.

36) Can you give us a spoiler for one of your WIP’s?It’s a chapter very far in the future for a fic I’m sure you can guess but I won’t outright say.“Against his better judgment, he reached out and grabbed the hysteric woman, tightening his grip against her struggling and pulling her into his lap. He wrapped her in a tight hug until she finally began to calm down, humming softly and running his fingers through blood-soaked hair.“

37) What’s the funniest story you’ve written?I haven’t written a lot of funny stuff. I mostly do angsty. But when I was in middle school a wrote a novel where I spent two paragraphs talking about my MC’s hair color and current outfit and I cackle every time I read it. 70 pages or pure cringe, it’s hilarious.

38) If you could collab with any other writer on here, who would it be? (Perhaps this question will inspire some collabs!) If you’re shy, don’t tag the blog, just name it.@farcryfuckmeup hmu bitch!also you @onl-you

39) Do you prefer first, second or third person?Third, every now and then I write in first but idk I just don’t like it much.

40) Do people know you write fanfiction?My close friends do

41) What’s you favourite minor character you’ve written?Thomas Moore, he’s a lot of fun to write for.

42) Song fic - What made you decide to use the song xxx for xxx.I don’t actually have any song fics in the traditional sense. I do however have some fics inspired by songs. I listen to music almost constantly, sometimes a song comes on that gives my fic vibes and I add it to my prompt playlist.

43) Has anyone ever guessed the plot twist of one of your fics before you posted it?@/farcryfuckmeup has but I don’t try too hard to keep secrets when she’s around

44) What is the last line you wrote?“John rolled his eyes and finished unbuttoning his shirt.”

45) What spurs you on during the writing process?This is cliche probably but the readers. I don’t want to leave someone waiting around for the next update forever. I also want to see how things play out myself so my own desire to see the finished product also helps.

46) I really loved your xxx fic. If you were ever to do a sequel, what do you think might happen in it?Again, going with TDHC for this. I am writing a sequel currently (I know it’s not done). It’s going to focus on a different character but Sarah will make appearances. I’m also working on a standalone sequel for her but that won’t be posted until the first sequel fic is complete.

47) Here’s a fic title - insert a made-up title. What would this story be about?I used a title generator: Hidden Midnight. It’s about a pair of idiots in love, one is a vampire so they can only meet at night and it’s very secretive. The human dies at the end.

48) What’s your favourite trope to write?Forced partnerships. I love it when two characters are forced into a partnership. One of them can’t fucking stand the other but slowly grows to like/love them in secret. If the chill one is in danger the annoyed one freaks the fuck out and does everything they can to get to their partner and afterwards claims they couldn’t care less what happened.

49) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about?I don’t remember the name of it but I’m pretty sure it was a Supernatural fic. I think it was Destiel (don’t just middle school me) and a high school AU. I’m not 100% sure. It was either that or a Fairy Tail fic and I like to forget my anime days.

50) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?Angst. I love fluff and smut but in the end, I always go back to angst. It’s so much fun and there are so many ways to do it.

#ask

1 note · View note

bakudekuficlibrary · 6 years

Note

Hello! I was wondering if there is any MPreg Izuku Stories Out There??

Anonymous said:ohohohoho, anonymous fuck back again. I’m wondering if you can find some pregnant deku (with bakugou being the father of course) but not rape! owo;

Sure thing, anon! I’ll separate the ones with a Rape warning and those that don’t because, even though not all fics with a warning are fics where Bakugou rapes Izuku, I wouldn’t be able to tell off of the tag alone.

-Ellie

1 Series. 25 Works.

Doesn’t Have a Rape/Non-Con Warning

How to Train Your Shitty Omega by deanvspanties ( E | 130,614+ | 17/? )

Izuku will have Bakugou’s knot. He’s Izuku’s alpha after all.

I’m sorry for this, but I just had an image in my head of omega!Izuku destroying the school, hunting down Bakugou, and demanding his knot.

(Note: This one is tagged as “Possible Mpreg.” I’m adding it just in case!)

the last dragon-blood king by claimedbydaryl ( E | 107,008 | 13/13 )

Katsuki Bakugou was the alpha heir to a forgotten throne, reigning lord and warden of the Fyre Isles, a famed warrior of vicious repute in the Western Seas, and he would be wed to Izuku Midoriya by the day’s end.

A Mate’s Worth by GreyLiliy ( M | 44,367+ | 12/? )

Katsuki was only supposed to be at the Omega Shelter as Kirishima’s moral support. He wasn’t looking for a mate nor licensed to claim a mate from there. It should have been a quick, boring trip.

But then he ran into Deku—someone he hadn’t seen in close to eight years—in that same Shelter for Abused Omega. Walking away alone had never been an option.

SeriesPart 2 of A/B/O x My Hero Academia

Lips, Teeth, Hands by litathesissy ( E | 2,044 | 1/1 )

“Fuck me,” his omega said, and Katsuki dissolved.

Our Lives On Fire by KaeLash ( E | 41,134+ |13/? )

Katsuki Bakugo is the ultimate alpha. He finally has the life he’s always wanted but never thought he deserved. He’s an Olympic gold medalist and his career as a trainer is reaching new unbelievable levels of success. He’s married to Izuku Midoriya, an omega, whom he’s unadmittedly been in love with since they were kids.

They’ve just become new parents to a baby boy, Kazuki.

After becoming a father he still hasn’t been able to make peace with the ghosts of his past.

And what he finds even worse than that…he hasn’t been able to mate with his sexy omega in months…

Bakugo is at the end of his rope on his journey of accepting his rocky, mysterious past and becoming a husband and a new daddy.

(Hopefully he’ll get to tie Deku up with a rope again really soon…)

*Alpha/Beta/Omega Universe

Mated for life? by Kelly_jo ( E | 16,744 | 6/6 )

Izuku goes into heat and Katsuki loses it.

This is my first ever omega verse and I’m nervous.

[Dub-Con]

Still by my side by Rinba ( T | 9,678 | 8/8 )

He looked tired? No he looked exhausted. His skin paler than usual, and his build even though larger, looked to have lost some definition.

He looked, he looked like, “Shit, you look like shit,” the blonde spat, “Smell like shit too.”

Izuku laughed. It was a wet laugh almost hoarse.

“I’m pregnant Kaachan.”

SeriesPart 1 of Still by my side

Homemade Happiness by issawip ( M | 31,482+ | 6/? )

There was probably a bigger chance for Izuku to win the lottery then for this to happen, unfortunately instead of getting filthy rich overnight, Izuku had managed to choose the worst fucking person in the world to be his sperm donor.

a love story about an IUI, an extreme coincidence and two people seriously destined to be together no matter what

the way you expect by xenodickery ( E | 7,932 | 1/1 )

It was his third pregnancy scare.

The first was when he was 17, just after he was rescued from the League of Villains. The second a few months later when he and Bakugou couldn’t keep their hands off each other after what had happened. Both of those he’d seen coming, but not this.

SeriesPart 3 of what’s mine is mine

Bite Me by AnimeLoversInTown ( E | 12,565+ | 5/? )

Katsuki Bakugou is going into rut and needs to find a mate ASAP. It’s not too hard when the problem is that he has too many options. Izuku Midoriya was not aware Katsuki Bakugou thought he had other options. Izuku Midoriya is going to make damn sure Katsuki Bakugou knows that he does not, in fact, have any other options; and that those options know they don’t stand a chance.

[Underage]

Dessert Before Dinner by Morpheel ( E | 3,473 | 1/1 )

Ground Zero has his work cut out for him as of late.

Between his increased Hero workload, and a pregnant mate at home, there’s very little time to slow down and “smell the roses”, as they say. He’s too busy fighting the rampant crime rate going wild throughout the city without their Pillar of Justice on duty for 9 months.

Yet leave it up to Izuku to find his own way in squirming some quality time in before Katsuki’s shift.

[Series] BakuDeku Omegaverse by AvvarElf ( G&M | 1,408+ | 2 Works | WIP )

And when he begged so nicely, his skin flushed all the way down to his chest, cock fat and pink and wet, legs spreading wider, Katsuki was at his omega’s mercy.

Izuku and Katsuki’s wedding.

[On Hiatus] Impulse by HG_Wells ( Not Rated | 4,418+ | 1/? )

Midoriya Izuku is a just an ordinary Beta with no Quirk, bullied and tormented for his lack of unique abilities. His main assailant is his chlidhood friend, Bakugou Katsuki. His bully is rather special, born with a genetic defect that makes him stronger than a normal Alpha. They call the ones with these defects ’S-Ranks’. Laying dormant in Izuku’s body is his own S-Rank, it takes an inherited Quirk from his Step Father to pull this torpid trait to the surface.

Project: Heat by sterekhalinsk ( M | 2,914 | 1/1 )

Katsuki can do this. He can control himself around Deku, who’s scent has spiked in sweetness and is dripping in pheromones. He can maintain his composure as they work together on a school project. He can keep himself in check as his stupid smell wafts through the air, and directly into his nose.

He can’t do this.

[Underage]

Destined by ABO_gamer ( M | 1,732+ | 1/? )

Old wives tales say that everyone has a soulmate, that one person who compliments them beyond compare. In a world of hero dynamics and secondary genders, it never felt that simple to Izuku Midoriya.

Will Izuku be able to accept himself as an omega when even his soulmate has a hard time accepting him?

[Abandoned] My hero academia : next generation by Miki_Tamiko13 ( M | 11,728 | 6/13 )

I’m Miki bakugou and this blonde wuss is my baby brother tamiko bakugou. We are twins.Our parents are the great duo ground zero and Deku.

This is the store of how we came into the world.

[Underage]

Groupies by DemonufSans ( M | 865+ | 2/? )

they made a chat but a game of Kings game off line changed everything

SeriesPart 3 of My hero Academia fanfic and Request

You and Me by twilightwings ( E | 6,404+ | 2/? )

Not even being heroes are not hard enough, now a new problem had revealed it’s self to them the problem is it’s not a villain. the start of being parents.

SeriesPart 2 of Family love series

[Abuse]

(Note: This one is tagged with “Pregnancy,” but doesn’t specify who’s going to be pregnant.)

【胜出】肚肚 by Mialin ( G | 301 | 1/1 )

简介：小孩子与大人的减肥。

Has Rape/Non-Con Warning

Cinnamon Bun Bun by DarkMachi ( M | 47,190+ | 23/? )

In a world with humanoid creatures called “pets”, Katsuki Bakugou finds himself suddenly the owner of a timid curly haired rabbit. How the fuck did that happen? Will the reluctant new owner and abandoned pet be the best thing for each other or will it end in disaster? Only the tags will ever know.

Warm and fuzzy fluff pet AU with hints of angst and humor!

*This story is mostly about fluff. Warning and “past” tags for a backstory chapter(s) almost exclusively. Will warn at the beginning of ANY chapter with ANY sensitive issues.*

[Rape/Non-Con]

(Note: I am reading this fic, so I can tell you that, even though this work has a Rape warning, it is not between Bakugou and Izuku.)

The Bonds that Bind Us by DMMegsie ( M | 28,298+ | 5/? )

Travelling with his trading caravan, Izuku is on his way home when they stumble across an already heated battle in the middle of an open field in the dead of night. Being mistaken as part of attacking party, Izuku finds himself fighting off the fabled Demon King of the Mountains of Fire.

However, during the battle, Izuku breaks a necklace on the Demon King that held an unspoken promise from his mother from long ago, which changes everything.

Nothing ever as it seems, nor is it simple. As an omega of elven descent, Izuku has a lot to learn about the greater world and himself. The same could be said of the half dragon lord of the mountain.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Rape/Non-Con]

Howl For Me by SaltyTofu ( E | 10,006+ | 6/? )

Izuku just wanted to learn more about plants and spend some time away from the city. He didn’t expect to be bitten by a psycho werewolf who is set on keeping him by his side. And what’s with all these weird side effects?

[Abandoned] Raising The Absolute Duo by Torishii ( M | 6,318 | 1/? )

Midoriya Izuku have love Bakugo Katsuki, his childhood friend, for as long as he could remember. Even if they are in high school, he remain his feelings all to himself. One day, Izuku meets a mysterious girl who advise him to admit his feelings to Bakugo so he won’t get hurt. He considers and did what she said.

However, in exchange, he’s get to experience something that is beyond a human’s knowledge and will turn his life upside down.

[Rape/Non-Con | Underage]

Chapter 4 & Chapter 5 of I Looked Up My Address and it Just Says a Garbage Can by Your_Bones( M | 1,920 | 2 out of 14 )

A dumping ground for unedited mini fics (around 700-1,000 words a pop, varies a lot,) based on prompts from my good friend kittenmittens. (Her counterpart, “A Walking Burlap Sack of Turds”, is also viewable here on Ao3.) Kind of a grab bag of fandoms and subject matter, but mostly focused on mpreg and other totally self-indulgent junk.

Read at your own risk, and don’t expect stunning quality for any of these: keep in mind they were all written in about an hour each.

[Rape/Non-Con]

(Note: The chapters linked do not contain Non-Con. It seems that the warning is for a different chapter on this compilation fic.)

How are we doing? We have a Submitter Feedback Form for anyone who wants to give us a piece of their mind! Thank you in advance if you complete it. If you have never sent an ask, but want to give us feedback, we have a Follower Feedback Form, too!

#BakuDeku #KatsuDeku #BNHA #bkdkfl ask #w:violence #w:rape #t:dubcon #t:abuse #au:mpreg #w:underage #curator ellie

231 notes · View notes

syndianites · 7 years

Text

Soulmates (Just figure it out already)

66. “Wait, you’re my soulmate?”

Ship: Syndianite/Diacate (Tom x S1 Dianite)

Summary: Everyone was born with some wacky mark that they shared with their soulmate. When he was little, Tom dreamed of being some knight in shining armor for his soulmate. After tiring of looking for his soulmate, he wasn’t prepared to be the damsel in distress (at least he made a fabulous damsel)

AN: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) This is gonna be great. No smut in this (I considered it….), but we’ll get a great first meeting and oblivious Tom. @syndcates

Tom plainly stared at the man’s bland mark pasted on his neck. Some blob of colors, roughly in the shape of a… piece of bread? A deformed gold nugget? A beaten-up sun? Who fucking knows. The bearded man sneered at the shorter man, “Looking at my mark little bitch? I bet you wish you had such an extravagant beauty as mine.” The younger rolled his eyes. “Wow, such a big word for someone with a small brain. What the fuck is that supposed to be? A golden piece of shit?”

His eyes bulged, mouth twisted back in a snarl. “You’re going to end up a pile of shit if you don’t keep your mouth shut.” Tom eyed the man’s mark once more. “You’re right, maybe I should keep my mouth shut.” He gave a light shrug. “You probably already know how pathetic your mark is. Honestly, they should have made another requirement for recruitment, an actual mark that doesn’t look like someone had diarrhea.”

“Now you’re getting it you little bitch,” the brute roared, charging at the smaller man with his fist pulled back. Tom ducked under the fist, some sloppy attempt at a right hook, and took the initiative to trip the man. With a curse, he went sprawling to the ground in a sad heap, flailing uselessly. Had they been allowed weapons before the bullshit tests they were to go through, he would have left more than a couple scratches. Probably start by removing that god-awful beard.

“Enough squabbling,” a voice called from above. Along with the rest of the group, about twenty other people, he turned to see Furia standing above them. The fire demon boredly scanned the assembled humans, unimpressed with the turn out. Though there were a few interesting persons, that one man strangely dressed like a stripper, the one sporting bright blue hair, and one girl wearing as many spikes on her clothes as possible, the overall group seemed lacking. Many of the potential recruits appeared weak or entirely too timid. Not to mention the power-hungry freaks, thinking that they were entitled to anything once recruited.

“For those of you who are less aware,” he made a not so subtle glance towards a couple, the two men pointing at spike girl, not even trying to listen to the higher being, “You will be undergoing a series of tests to deem whether you are worthy of becoming part of Lord Dianite’s army. Try not to waste my time. There are plenty more qualified people waiting for attention, and I don’t really need more children to attend to.” Some of the group was offended, very confident in their skill, while the other shrugged it off, already prepared for Furia’s scathing comments and sass.

At that point, they were separated into two groups and taken to the testing area. The first activity was simple really, take a small boulder and throw it as far as possible. There were a few grumbles as the first group stepped up, doubting the point of the exercise. The first few to throw made it pitifully far, trying their best to launch it in a shot-put style. Shit mark brute puffed up proudly as his made it the second farthest, just behind the stripper’s (who made is surprisingly far, a good 10 feet away). Tom took a little more time, along with the more skeptical attendants. He lifted the rather large rock, and turned a few times before setting it loose with a motion more typical of a disk. The result was considerably better than that of the other people, outdoing the burly man he fought, but still behind the stripper.

After his demonstration, the remaining people were quick to mimic him, finding more success than the earlier attempts. Unfortunately for the stripper, two people found theirs farther than his, and quite a number found theirs beyond or close to Tom’s. Their observer hummed for a moment, before bringing them to the next test. This was a tad more complicated, their goal was to get on the other side of a 12-foot wall, with no obvious hand holds.

Once more, a few people took initiative, making a running start and scrambling at the mostly smooth rock. Some found themselves stuck, not sure where to go. A small number of people standing behind took a moment to watch what Tom would do. Said person glanced at the wall, then at Furia. Shrugging, he ran towards the wall, only to go around it. Going to stand next to the fiery being, he received a nod of approval, as it was never specified they had to scale the wall. A tad embarrassed, the rest of them followed Tom’s footsteps.

They went through the remaining tests in this fashion, Tom occasionally finding easier ways to go about tasks, sometimes others took the time to figure better ways out first. Overall, stripper man, Tom, and spike girl were doing the best, with some girl with a pig pulling her weight rather well. (When they were moving between sets, Tom asked the girl about the massive number of spikes she wore, she said they gave her confidence and made her look badass. And no one questioned the pig, it simultaneously assisted the girl with her tasks and did them itself.).

The last test was a traditional one: dueling. They were giving opponents from the opposite group, the one brute unhappy to lose the opportunity to show Tom up. The blue haired man found himself up against the pig lady, both wielding dulled blades, while the pig looked rather menacingly at him. “Don’t fuck up too bad, cuts from a dull blade hurt worse than a sharp one,” Furia idly called out, mostly unconcerned with any injuries that less prepared would receive.

Once it was Tom’s turn, the swine took no time to charge him, careening at his legs. He sidestepped at the last minute, hitting that side of its face with the flat part of his sword. It stumbled, dazed, and he turned to find himself face to face with his actual opponent. Her swings were lightning fast, but speed was all she had. Beyond a few scratches left on his skin, (Furia was right, it hurt like a bitch), they held no real force, at least if she wanted to make a real wound. He took to outmaneuvering her, repeatedly ducking under swipes and dodging overhead swings, landing hits on her sides and back.

Just as he was going to land the defeating blow (no deaths, Furia had instated, loser had to clean any blood stains), he tumbled over as the pig returned, finally finding his mark. He used the momentum of his fall to roll from the duo, quickly righting into a crouch. The pig lady hurried to find the defeating blow, but as she swung towards him, he rolled off to her side, rising in one fluid motion and sending his blade up to her neck. A thin trickle of blood trailed down her pale skin as he was established as the winner.

Furia wasn’t really surprised when the blue haired one won. Upon viewing the group from afar, Dianite himself had told him to keep an eye on him. There was something strange with the way he looked at him, an excited and elated glint to his eye, an unusually soft smile gracing his lips. When the demon asked about his strange behavior, the god waved it off, saying he’d tell him later. And as the man both thanked the lady and her pig for a great fight (what a gentleman), and smugly flipped off his pseudo opponent from earlier, who lost to a petite girl, who destroyed him, he was certain he was a good fit for the army. (Hopefully he wouldn’t be so kind to their enemies, however).

Once all were done, he dismissed them, and they found their way back to their assigned rooms. Tomorrow, he would wake them long before the sun returned, and announce who got to stay and who needed to get the fuck out. Somehow, the stripper found his way onto the staying list, outperforming many of the others. (He would have kept pig lady, as she was mostly to standard, but he was not going to deal with having a fucking pig to look after. Watching the rest of the immature recruits was annoying enough). Shaking his head, he went to relay the results to the god.

Dianite knew exactly when his soulmate was born. The dragon made of flames curled on the skin above his heart, a vibrant orange hue against his ruby skin, practically burst to life when he came into the world. But he chose to wait to meet him. Making a connection with his soulmate so young might poorly influence his other, his vast years of life giving him much more experience than the younger. He had seen in many people, that the wider the age gap, which was laughable with himself, the better is was to meet later in life. It irritated him, but he promised himself that if they hadn’t met by the time he turned 25, he was going to have to make a grand entrance into his life.

Of course, this didn’t stop him from stalking the child from time to time, sometimes from regular eye sight, other times from more magical means. His name was Thomas Cassel. He had an older sister, who was strangle chaotic for someone who chose to follow his sister, and separated parents. Though his family wasn’t particularly poor, they certainly weren’t boasting wealth. This lead to Tom taking all sorts of odd jobs, and finding create means of making money.

Dianite was silently proud of his ingenious soulmate, though he wished he’d be smarter as a whole. Years of watching the child grow into a young man created a growing affection for him. But as he hit 20, those feelings started to change. And damn, he might just be in love with the mortal. The only thing he had to do now was meet him, and it got harder to wait every day.

So, when he finally showed up to one of his recruitment sessions (it was clear he was one of his followers very early on, regardless of the soul mark situated upon his right shoulder), he could hardly keep himself away. Though he was fairly certain he would pass the tests, he wanted to make sure he was prepared for what his army entailed. Soul mate or not, he needed to find a place among his people. (Though, if all else failed, he wasn’t against keeping him around just to spoil him).

He watched the group progress from afar, not very subtly if the way Furia sent him a sidelong glance told him anything. The humans didn’t seem to notice, too caught up in their tests. And Tom was doing remarkably well (no, he was not biased), finding ease in most things that proved challenging to his groupmates. When Furia started to approach him, the blue haired man exiting the area, he already knew he was getting to stay.

The first thing he received from the fiery being was an eye roll. “You couldn’t have been a little subtler with how you stared at him?” The god simply lifted the garment covering his mark (he wouldn’t want people actively seeking out his soul mate), and gestured towards it. Furia’s eyebrows shot up, before he gave a groan. “Why am I not surprised. Lucky you he will fit into the army well. Though I doubt you’d let him leave anyway.” Before the god could interject he prattled off the list of people he would keep, a little less than half the group. “The only one we must keep an eye on,” he continued, putting emphasis on we, “is the younger girl. We need to see if she is educated, and make sure she doesn’t get preyed on by any older recruits. They may lose their lives if they do.”

The god hummed in agreement, “Determine what age groups she’s in and see if we can’t pair her up with someone closer to her age. I thought we had a minimum age? I will not have children, no matter how skilled, in my army. They could be doing something better, like having a childhood.” His companion playfully rolled his eyes, rather amused by the mother hen moment. “We do, it is 15. Only for those who really need the job.”

Dianite gave a dismissive nod, already starting to walk back to the fortress. The two discuss other matters along the way, though Dianite found his thoughts often wandering to a certain blue haired man. If Furia noticed the small smile playing on the edge of his lips, he didn’t point it out.

Tom was certain the rumors circulating were absolute bullshit. Apparently, Lord Dianite himself had taken interest in his group, C27, a purely newbie group, and was seen watching them many times. He hadn’t seen the god, no one in their group had seen the god, when someone asked Furia, he just shrugged, telling them, “You know what they say, all rumors stem from some fraction of truth. Now get the fuck back to training, your defense is slacking. Again.”

Still, many people claimed to have spotted the god watching the group at one point or another. Tom had no clue why. They were hardly two weeks into their training regimine, and only half their group was managing it. That didn’t stop the bigger egos of the group from swelling in the head. “He must be enraptured by my skill. I bet he’s looking to promote me to a permanent group,” one of the hardier men crow, smirking towards his current sparring partner. “Yes,” the male stripper, now donning actual clothes per regulation, scoffed, “And he’s here to check me out for a private dance.” A few more carried on in this fashion, one girl very adamant that he was mostly impressed with her and ready to give her a special ops position. (Really, some of these people didn’t know the meaning of humility).

Even after Furia claimed that Dianite was not watching them to check out the group, you guys are doing fucking terrible, the chatter continued. He didn’t deny that he was watching. Tom didn’t give a shit. He was determined to get into a better group, some asshole tried to grope him while he slept. Needless to say, he has a new scar. (Strangely enough, he didn’t come back after going to patch his wound. Must have been rather scared of the angry blue haired man).

After a few more weeks, they started to weed through the true fighters, and those who would be put onto supporting jobs (every team needed a medic, and the medic needed to know how to fight). Of course, there were those who were kicked out or tried for breaking certain rules that should never be trifled with. (One man was sentenced to death when he tried to take out a General to free a position for himself. Loyalty was one of the celebrated qualities of the Dianite following, and that included loyalty to the Dianite family). Though the blue haired man was certain he would be kept, he wasn’t too sure he’d receive any important position.

He wasn’t prepared to be called down by Furia, along with one of his newbie sisters (her name was Dylan, apparently her parents were expecting a boy, but decided the name would stick with a girl anyway). The pair were debatably better than most of the group, better with discipline and rather proficient with most of the weapons and craft thrown their way. Despite this, they worried. The last group to be called down by Furia was told to leave. Tom would be damned if he wasted all this time to not be good enough.

But as the fire demon lead them down a long series of hallways, bringing them further into the fortress, they weren’t too sure what was in store for them. They were stopped in front of an extravagant door, in which Furia turned to them and plainly stated, “Make sure you look presentable.” And then proceeded to open the doors and enter. That was the only preparation they had to stop their jaws from dropping. Before them, in his splendid glory and divinity was none other than Lord Dianite.

He was seated behind an ornate desk, lined with golden patterns and making up a large portion of the room. Before it was three cushioned chairs, meant for visitors such as themselves. The god was looking amusedly at their stunned expressions, though he appeared to have been working through paperwork of some sort. He waved it away, the papers disappearing in a cloud of smoke. Gesturing towards the chairs, he had the two mortals sit. Furia closed the doors behind them, and they Tom exchanged a baffled glance with his companion.

As Tom locked eyes with the god, a shiver raced up his spine. He spoke with a deep tone, a passive intensity hidden within, “There’s no need to worry, I brought you here due to your prowess and skill.” He shared a look with Furia, before shifting his gaze to Tom once more. “You have been selected as my newest personal guards. This will be a temporary job, for security reasons, but you have been drafted for this as you, being newbies, are most likely to be free of any manipulation that could affect your overall performance.”

With a nod to Furia, he stood, leading the group from the room once more. Through another series of confusing twists and turns, they reached the throne room, currently empty. He strode up the steps and turned back to them. “You’ll be positioned at the foot of the steps, one on each side, and be armed with swords, bows, and spears. Spears in hand, swords at the hip, bows at the back. Anyone who poses a threat to me is to be taken out, preferably alive for questioning. At times, I may ask you to escort someone from the room. Only Furia is allowed to be on or up the steps, or really anywhere past you. If you follow these instructions, you’ll do fine. Questions?” He was met with silent head shakes, the orders rather clear.

Thus, began their trials of handling the bullshit people came up with.

The first act of utter bullshit Tom had to deal with was almost two days later. Day one consisted of getting used to the steady flow of people asking for favors, or offering sacrifices, or even complaining about things that didn’t have anything to do with the god.

This particular man stood before the god was one of the latter. He was here on some bogus complaint that one of his fields was destroyed by some ruffians, and how the god needed to fix them. No mention of them being Dianitees (not that the god would assist such an ungrateful peasant), no offerings in return for the favor, and the man even had the audacity to approach the steps, only stopped by the spears barring his path. Spittle flying from his lips, he turned on Dylan, assuming weakness from the woman. “How sad that you need to hide behind a girl,” he sneered, attempting to shove her to the side. She didn’t budge, instead pushing him back a few steps, away from Dianite.

The god boredly settled his chin and his fist, leaning on the left side of the throne. “Guards,” he called down, “Escort him out. He has overstayed his welcome.” Enraged, he tried once more to make his way past the guards, this time Tom shoved him back, approaching him with even steps. “You can’t treat me like this! How dare you put yourself upon a throne, acting as a tyrant!” Dylan took her chance to land a blow on the annoying man, giving him a solid hit to the stomach.

With a grunt, he tried to wrestle the spear from her, giving Tom the chance to take his legs out from under him. “Either you walk away with your last shred of dignity, or I drag you out like the rat you are.” The man snarled at the guard (AN: I apologize for breaking the story, but Guard Tom XD) lunging at him. Before he could make contact, he was thrown back with the force of chains flinging themselves around him. His head hit the ground with a dizzying crack, the man letting out a groan.

From where Dianite sat he had one hand flicked out to the side. “I don’t appreciate you assaulting my guards heathen. You come in here, assuming I’d assist you, when you don’t even follow me or plan to give any offerings in return. Take him to the dungeon, we’ll find a punishment for him later,” he nodded to the two, “There will be guards outside as well, take him to them and tell them to take him down.”

There were no more spectacular incidents that day.

Today was yet another day of listening to the requests, prayers, and offerings of the people he oversaw. Regardless of their beliefs (he honestly didn’t give a shit as long as the Mianitees stayed away from his fortress), he held direct rule over the surrounding area. Unfortunately, this meant he had to deal with many matters concerning the inhabitants.

While many were smaller problems, a few cause more annoying problems. Like the ones who decided to push his guards around. (Not that they succeeded very much, the two were rather difficult to push around). However, it was more annoying when they showed an obvious interest in them. Specifically, Tom. He was aware that their uniform was rather fancy, reddened steel armor, with golden stitching laced into the leather binding it together. Underneath the armor were simple black tunics, covering every inch of skin, thick enough to deter any lucky strike to get through the cracks in the armor. But they didn’t cover the face, and their hair could still stick out some.

Tom’s blue hair drew attention, and though many tried to be subtle, he could see them checking out his soulmate. The urge to mark him in front of them, to show that Tom is his was strong, but he was determined to wait for Tom to figure it out. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to wait, honestly it was killing him having Tom so close, but part of him knew it would be easier for Tom to find out on his own.

But as the latest person didn’t even try to be subtle about checking Tom out (normally, they checked out Dylan, who was ready to stab them when given the chance) he felt the urge to murder. At least only he could have a good view of his ass, as he was only ever turned away from him. He knew the man’s type, greedy, thinks he’s sly, and looking for a new toy.

Honestly, Dylan even looked ready to beat his ass. But he was being civil, and prepared a rather swell offering in exchange for safe voyage to the next continent and back, and promised to give him some of his profits. He wasn’t about to let his own emotions conflict with something that benefitted him. So, despite his displeasure with the merchant, (who he was sure had some darker dealings going on), he made sure to bless him with calm seas.

Dianite was not, in fact, following Tom to make sure he returned home safely. The blue haired man had separated with his companion, who went to meet her soulmate for dinner. He was simply making last minute rounds before heading to his chambers to rest. However, when he saw a group lurking around the corner from Tom, who was making his way through the courtyard to the barracks, he was watching much closer than before.

The younger man seemed to have a clue that something was up, hand trailing to the hilt of his sword (he left his spear in the throne room, it was a custom weapon meant for that job). He wasn’t prepared for the three men to rush him, two distracting him, while one came up behind him with a cloth. When it was pushed to his face, he struggled not to breath and fight off his attacker, but the other two held him in place. A punch was landed into his gut, causing him to gasp, taking in whatever drug the cloth was laced with, and in seconds, he was out.

Dianite was not about to let them run off with his human. Eyes aglow, he stepped behind forward, smoothly teleporting behind them. Growling, he pierced the stomach of the first attacker, the other two turning from where they struggled to hold Tom up. In a fluid motion, he flicked a sword to his hand, and sliced through the neck of one. The last one dropped Tom and tried to run, but, after catching him, he set the man aflame.

Cradling Tom in his arms, he picked him up bridal style, debating as to where to go with him. Indulging a little, he teleported to his own room, settling the mortal upon his bed. He gazed at his serene face, biting his face. Everything in his screamed at him to mark his human, his soulmate. But, he didn’t know. “For fucks sake, sometimes I hate my dumbass decisions,” the god grumbled, brushing some of his hair off his forehead.

He chose to skip out on sleep that night, instead cuddling the sleeping man, who curled into him so naturally it made him want to keep him here. Though the drug was likely only meant to keep him out for two hours max, it was added to by the already tired state he had been in. The night passed this way, and when daylight broke, he reluctantly returned the mortal to his room, not caring if anyone noticed.

Tom started to notice something… strange. Almost a week ago, he had been jumped, and he barely registered blacking out, before he was waking in his bed once more, warmer than he had ever been with these cruddy blankets. (And rather relaxed, that may have been the best sleep of his life). Ever since that day, he would find his way to bed, but always have a vague recollection of cuddling with someone delightfully warm. But each time he tried to find out who, he’d open his eyes to the dim room he was placed in, in the barracks. He just wanted to know why he felt so peaceful in these moments.

If the tingle in his shoulder was anything to go by, he had a feeling as to why. If only they would stay, so they could meet properly. (In the back of his head, a voice screamed he already knew him, just look up dumbass, but Tom couldn’t understand it). And he was once more on guard duty, his mark still warm and soothing from last night, and some serious shit was happening.

Some Mianitee decided to deface part of the fortress, and was captured for trespassing and being an ass (the last one wasn’t the actual sentence, but accurate). But while Dianite calmly had the two escort him to the dungeon (along with the door guards), he acted out once more. From a hidden pocket he unfurled an explosive, made to detonate upon impact. The front guards both crumpled against the wall with twin thuds, and the Mianitee used one of their spears to cut himself loose in their stunned daze.

Acting fast, Tom used his own spear to jab at the man, who pivoted and broke the wooden shaft. Dylan dropped her spear and drew her sword with a flick of her wrist, taking his momentary distraction to get behind him. She swiped at him, but he dodged by barreling into Tom, grabbing the sharp end of the broken spear and jamming it into his gut.

Despite the wound inflicted upon him, Tom wrapped his legs around his aggressor, giving Dylan the vantage point to knock him out with the butt of her sword. “Tom?” She crouched down before him, rolling the body off his carelessly. “Hurts like a fucking petty bitch, but I’ll live. It’s probably lodged in my intestines, so there won’t be too much bleeding… I think,” he uttered through gritted teeth, one hand wrapped around splintered wood, about to remove the offending item.

“Leave it,” came the deep voice of their god. Tom craned his neck to see him glide down the hallway, concerned frown gracing his features. He surveyed the scene, two guards unconscious, likely with a concussion, and his soulmate with part of a spear lodged in him. Glaring at the blacked-out figure on the floor next to the awake duo, he snapped his fingers, sending him to the torture chamber for some fun.

“Dylan,” her head snapped up as he addressed her, “Go inform the waiting line that I will not be receiving any one else today. If they question you or complain, tell them I’m dealing with one of my brother’s bitches.” She gave a nod to her god, and jogged down the hall to do as told. He swept he hand towards the other two, presumably sending them to the medical wing.

Looking down at the injured blue haired man, he sighed. Holding nothing back, complained to him, “Why is my soulmate so attracted to trouble?” Shaking his head at the mildly dazed look he received, he lifted Tom in his arms, moving them both into his quarters. Placing him on the bed, reminiscent of a night a week earlier, he did not hesitate to yank the spear head out of Tom. “Son of a bitch,” Tom practically screamed, looking at the god incredulously. “A little warning next time?”

Rolling his eyes, the god set about removing the mortal’s shirt, taking the time to do it manually, just to shamelessly run his fingers over his skin. Once the wound was uncovered, he placed his hand about it, mending the wound and numbing the pain. “It’ll be better if you sleep it off,” Dianite murmured to his injured soulmate.

Swinging his half cape from shoulders and wrapping it around Tom’s, he picked him back up, moving to his office. Just as he was going to push Tom into sleep, a hand raised against his temple, the mortal whispered, astonished, “Wait, you’re my soulmate?” With a huff, the god sent him to sleep, settling into his chair with Tom resting in his lap.

“About fucking time.”

(AN: I don’t know why that took so long to write, but somehow it turned out to be my longest ficlet so far. Damn. Also, Tom is oblivious, and I couldn’t make a good reason for Dia not to tell Tom they were soulmates… oh well. I hope y’all enjoyed, especially @syndcates )

#Syndianite #Diacate #TomxDianite #DianitexTom #SyndicatexDianite #DianitexSyndicate #Mianite #MianiteS1 #long fic #need sleep #an ask submission #too lazy to put as response to the ask #I like Dylan for some reason #im gonna keep her

17 notes · View notes

asagimeta · 7 years

Note

Double-Face's search for a "perfect host body" feels very much like the DDS experiments in s5. I wonder if maybe we're gonna get some kinda tragic ending for a character, since he's seeking a supernatural host with "something more" than the usual shift (like Scott's True Alpha power, or Theo's chimera, or the Hale full shift) and he (and host) end up locked away on the Other Side.

You know Anon, it’s funny you should say that, because the meta pack has talked alot about sacrifices, specifically regarding two charectors: Scott and Peter, and your theory makes a hell of alot of sense…

Now, before we continue, it’s important to note that Scott and Peter aren’t the ONLY ones who need, thematically, to make a sacrifice, but they are the primary two, we’ll talk about the others later

First things first- the sacrifice you’re talking about is perfect because it’s a *TRUE* sacrifice, as in: There’s no “coming back” from it, this isn’t a situation where a person dies and comes back to life, or loses their powers and regains them, this also isn’t a situation where they get something out of the sacrifice that isn’t purely selfless (IE: If Jackson sacrificed his kanima powers and gained a full shift because of it, that sacrifice was not purely selfless, he never wanted his kanima powers anyway AND he got a reward) but this? There’s no reward for this, there’s no step up on the ladder, and there’s no “Oh I didn’t need that anyway” moment, it’s just sacrifice for the greater good, plain and simple

Now onto Scott and Peter and why they could both be perfect choices for this

Firstly, they both physically fit the bill, you said it yourself Anon, Anuk-Ite is looking for something *MORE*, not only harkening back to the Dread Doctors in season five, but also to THEO*, remember, Theo didn’t just want ANY pack- he wanted a DARK pack, he wanted SCOTT’S pack, because everyone in Scott’s pack was something *more*, he didn’t just have some betas and a couple of humans, he had the makings of something unique, to quote:

“I came for the werecoyote- the one who’s first instinct is to kill, I came for the banshee- the girl surrounded by death, I came for the dark kitsune, the beta with anger issues, I came for Void Stiles, that’s the pack I want”

Theo wanted a unique pack, a DARK pack, and we know that he’s not just talking about the species involved, werecoyotes don’t seem to be killers by nature, this is something Theo says but remember that Malia’s instincts are only as intense as they are because she lived in the wild during her formative years, we saw another werecoyote tonight- Edgar- who didn’t seem very violent, we can’t assume all werecoyotes are this way and even if we could, most packs don’t have any, coyotes- as stated by the beastiary- don’t like werewolves, and they CERTAINLY don’t like Alphas, so you’re hard-pressed to find one in a pack, banshees are also considerably rare if Jennifer and Arya’s reactions to Lydia are anything to go by, these are women who are DEEPLY involved in the supernatural and have been for most of their lives but they treat Lydia like a rare find, Theo then specifies he wants the DARK kitsune, not just any kitsune, and the beta “with anger issues”, not just any beta, but one who’s specially geared for violence, and, ofcourse, finally, VOID Stiles, not Stiles the human, VOID Stiles (seriously how does even know what that is??????? The thing possessing Stiles was called a nogitsune, Void Stiles was a term only used in private, so..??) Already we see that Scott’s pack has something *more* than most just in general, but back to my point

Scott is a True Alpha, a top of the line rare breed in the werewolf community, one that even most born wolves have only heard about in legend, and Peter is an odd case, he was a demon Alpha- wich in it’s self is not necessarily common- who died and was brought back to life via a convoluted banshee ritual, he also was taken by the Wild Hunt and escaped, he clearly has SOMETHING going on even if there isn’t a clever catch-all term for it, you also mentioned yourself that Theo is a chimera- a successfull one- but there’s something else special about Theo: He’s literally been to hell and back

*Theo is our third candidate, but we’ll talk about him later

SO why do Scott and Peter need to make sacrifices?

For Scott, it’s completing the hero’s journey, for Peter, it’s redemption

Scott has been stuck in stasis for a wile now because there are certain parts of his story that he refuses to allow to move forward, certain challenges he refuses to take and certain trials he refuses to face, and the more he refuses, the bigger his “debt” builds, think about it this way:

You have to get from Point A to Point B and along the way you have to eat a certain amount of candy, every few miles a peice is presented to you, now wile you CAN turn down the peice initially, you WILL have to eat it eventually before getting to Point B, if you keep denying peices along the way, then instead of eating one peice every five miles- wich is reasonable enough- you’ll get to the end with thirty peices waiting on you and you can’t advance until you eat all of them

Scott is facing something of the same problem, wile he does eat SOME of his peices when they’re initially presented, he’s saving alot of them for later, and those peices are building and building and building… and the bigger the pile of uneaten candy gets, the bigger his stomachache is going to get when he has to swallow down all of it at once

You can see even in recent episodes that there are still things that harkin back to Season One Scott, and NOT in the charming nostalgic way, let me give you a prime example-

In Magic Bullet when Derek tries to show Scott what hunters will do by telling him what happened to his family, what the Argents did, Scott replies with “Well then- they had a reason”, to put this at it’s most blatant: Scott is telling an innocent person that there MUST have been a reason his ENTIRE FAMILY deserved to be burned alive, for .. what? Being werewolves? Scott didn’t know the Hales, as evidenced by the fact that Stiles had to fill him in on everything regarding their family, what did he know about them besides the fact that they were werewolves and related to Derek? Pretty much nothing, so why else would he say something so crass? I get that he wanted to defend the Argents, but this kind of exceeds “defending the Argents” and goes straight into “Blaming the Hales”, Scott could have offered several different explanations- “Maybe it was an accident”, “Maybe they told someone else”, “Even if it was ONE Argent that doesn’t mean it’s ALL Argents”, but to imply Derek’s family MUST have done something to deserve being burned alive? Really? Now in “Pressure Test”, you have Scott ACTIVELY TRYING to throw two kids to the hunters- KNOWING they’ll be murdered- just because their eyes are blue, he seems determined not to see them as innocent people anymore the moment their eyes turn, even before they confessed to killing hunters (wich they didn’t actually do, by the way, they said they chased them down and tormented them) Mind you, Scott knows for a fact that not all blue-eyed wolves are vicious murderers, Derek and Malia both have blue eyes, and although his relationship with Derek is rocky at best, he’s downright DATING Malia now, either he believes his girlfreind is evil or he knows that eye color doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a cold-blooded murderer, but he’s ready to believe these kids *DESERVE* to be killed without even knowing WHY they have blue eyes… just like he was ready to believe the Hales deserved to be burned alive just for being werewolves

This is one small example of Scott circling the drain, but it nods to the much larger problem that he still has a type of internalized specism*, he’s always very quick to side with humans over werewolves even when the werewolves have done nothing wrong and the humans have (IE: Pressure Test) and is quicker to believe in evil supernatural people vs evil human people, he believes werewolfism needs to be suppressed, not controlled (there’s a difference, and the way Scott trained and taught Liam vs the way Derek trained and taught his betas is a good show of that difference, not that I think Derek’s teachings were all that grand, in fact, they were pretty cringey in their own rights, but the endgoals were VASTLY different, Derek wanted his betas to be able to defend themselves and work WITH their new power to do it, Scott wanted Liam to work AGAINST his power via control to the point of suppression and never taught him anything about self-defense, only control) Scott’s hero-journey has always been about finding harmony with himself as a werewolf and he still refuses to do that, he picks and chooses what parts he wants to take of being a hero and what parts he wants to take of being an Alpha, being a werewolf, being *other*, etc etc, and has refused to accept that these things are all fulltime and lifelong things, until he accepts all of that he’ll keep going in circles, collecting candy to stockpile until he reaches the end of his journey, and when he does reach that end, the sacrifice he’ll have to make (the candy he’s collected along the way) will be enormous…

Now let’s talk about Peter, who needs redemption, throughout the series Peter has toed the line between straight up villain and antihero, and before people start screaming, you have to look at how the charectors themselves treat him, particuarly in seasons three, four, and six, wile seasons one and two presented Peter as a Big Bad- end of story- you start seeing as of season three that the charectors are adjusting to him and reluctantly acceping his presence, when planning to break into the bank vault he’s sitting right there in the open and no one is trying to hurt him or even expressing anger at him, in fact, the only aggression he gets is a mild nip from Stiles and Stiles nips at everybody, he’s just an aggressive person that way, but there they are in 3A actively working with him, wich happens as well during Visionary with Cora and Stiles and again when Lydia and Allison seek his help, during none of these occassions did anyone act like they needed to kill Peter, just give him a swat on the head for being an irritation, that’s antihero interaction, not villain interaction, in season four Peter is back to plotting against Scott but before that he’s part of the deadpool and his interactions with Derek, again, show hero -> antihero interaction, not hero -> villain, even the sheriff lets Peter go along his merry way after killing The Mute, Derek takes pleasure in burning Peter but, again, that’s classic hero -> antihero banter, then in season six you have Peter actively helping the kids and you have more hero/anti-hero; Peter wants to use an innocent person as a guinia pig against Stiles’ wishes but ultimately it’s to HELP Stiles and himself, not just because he wants to see the kid die, later on we see the reluctance of Melissa helping Peter but she DOES help him- even if it’s just to use him- and wile Malia constantly gripes about having anything to do with Peter, she does seem sincere when she wakes him up and seemed sincerely concerned about him here and there, plus the very fact that Scott didn’t reach into his back pocket and dial Eichen to come pick him up when it was all over was probably telling to a degree

To be clear, I don’t like Peter, and I don’t forgive him for anything he’s done, but it doesn’t change the fact that there’s a very clear line between villain and anti-hero and Peter has been riding it like a mechanical bull since day one

But back on topic

Peter is still straddling that line both with fans and in the narrative as much of his anti-hero behavior has been fairly selfish/self-gratifying (he works with Stiles at the train station because he wants to get out of there, he’s hesitant to directly help Stiles just out of the goodness of his heart but the fact that he DOES is what has him sitting on the line of an anti-hero) and what few selfless things he DOES do (helping Stiles in 6A) are pretty small peas compared to the bad things he’s done (he gave the kids Roscoe’s keys but in the same breath encouraged them all to leave, regardless of what happened to Stiles after, this is a relatively tiny act of kindness and when you stack it against murdering his neice- just to compare to ONE- it really doesn’t hold up well as “Redemption”) The only way for Peter to get off the line between villain and anti-hero is to make a sacrifice worthy enough of pardoning some of his crimes, something selfless, something that shows that he DOES have compassion and a human soul and, preferrably, that he regrets the mistakes he made in the past, Crowly from Supernatural is the perfect example of what we’re talking about here, he straddles the villain/anti-hero line HARD series-long because even as of season 12 he was still plotting behind the Winchesters’ backs for his own selfish reasons, but then, you know, he killed himself to save them, wich was a big sacrifice that pretty much atoned for his behavior that season (throughout the series he’s had other moments of redeeming himself for crap he’s done but I’ll leave it others as to if he was really fully redeemed or not)

Scott and Peter both HAVE to make a big sacrifice for their narratives to work and to come full-circle, it’s just a matter of what that sacrifice is, the most common theories have been Peter’s death and Scott giving up his Alpha powers- or even his werewolf powers entirely**, but this could be a good way to avert either, though, if you want my honest opinion, I’d find it much more likely to be Peter’s sacrifice than Scott’s, I don’t think Teen Wolf will have a bleak ending (especially with the cast all being very excited and positive about it) and if Scott did, in fact, end that way, it would be an INCREDIBLY bleak way to end the show, Peter, however, isn’t, you know, the main charector, or even a hero, this would be a bittersweet moment and a great nod of redemption for him, it would give the show realistic depth and angst without going over the top and making the ending bleak and depressing

Now because I’ve talked so much about Theo- here’s the thing

This entire season is being played as Theo’s redemption arc, showing him living out of his car a few episodes ago was Teen Wolf’s way of punching you as hard in the feels as fast as they could to make you more primed to wanting to redeem him, it’s looking like they’re trying to turn Theo into more of a reluctant hero than a true anti-hero though, so in my opinion, his redemption moment will probably be alot smaller and not involve his own death, probably a really bad injuery that he sustains wile protecting Liam or saving Scott, maybe explaining his backstory or even apologizing to Scott would work, Theo is the world’s biggest dick but in comparison to Peter he hasn’t really done anything *THAT* bad, he’s tortured alot of people but only actually murdered one, who just popped back to life anyway, and in the realm of Teen Wolf that all seems like the sorta thing that can be washed away with a good chest wound and a sincere apology….. unfortunately…. but, I could always be wrong, this could be an interesting fit for Theo, my only problem is that it would be too close to what already happened to him- he was sent to hell, being locked in another dimension for eternity is too similar to that and would feel like a bland rehash instead of narrative genius

You mentioned Derek, but he’s pretty safe in my book, he completed his hero’s journey already and atoned for the wrongs he’s done, he EVOLVED, wich is the most textual nod to completing the journey I’ve ever heard of, he found peace within himself and has already made the big sacrifice he needed to acheive harmony and hero status by dieing in season four- and he came out of it evolved, not only did he spring back to life, but he brought a fancy new gift with him too, but this is where Derek and Scott are really different, Derek has spent the entire series eating his peices of candy as they come to him, if he made a mistake/took a step back, it was a small one and he paid for it pretty much right away, he didn’t keep looping around the same points and never learning from them, so when it came time for his big sacrifice, it wasn’t actually all that big, he didn’t have too much candy built up from other learning points in the series so he was able to swallow it without a problem, and he came out of it stronger- he DID make the sacrifice with death, he WAS prepared to die, and he had been slowly losing his powers and becoming human during season four, he had been preparing to die all along and making peace with it, even more of a reason for his evolution to have been well-deserved

I think our candidates, if this does in fact happen, are really just Scott and Peter, with my bets being placed 99% on Peter

*On the topic of internalized specism, Teen Wolf’s strongest allegory is that of sexuality, wich is probably why Jeff did the “There’s no homophobia in this universe” thing***, you see queer people who have internalized homophobia quite often, just like women can have internalized misogyny and POC can have internalized racism, belonging to an Other doesn’t exclude you from Othering, but I would say that internalized homophobia is probably one of the more common examples, I was just saying in the meta chat earlier that the confrontation in the bathroom between Edgar and Spider Dude reminded me of the stories I’ve always heard about and seen with homophobic and closeted queer people following someone they were just attacking into a bathroom/closet/motel room/whatever and essentially pulling the “I’m not gay, I just want to have sex” card, that’s an example of internalized homophobia- an extreme one, mind you, there are much more common smaller cases such as following standards of heteronormativity in queer relationships- Scott often displays internalized specism this way- on the less extreme end, again- he can say “I’m a werewolf and I accept that”, and he can kiss other werewolves and feel kinda ok about it, and he can preach that werewolves are just like everyone else, but at the end of the day if a human goes “Ow that werewolf hurt me” Scott is going to turn around and punish the werewolf without any proof because they’re a werewolf, do you see what I’m saying? (I hope you do, that was long winded)

**On the topic of losing his werewolf powers entirely, this goes back to the allegory, some people have thrown around the idea of Scott’s ultimate sacrifice being a full loss of his werewolf powers because he’s always wanted to be normal, he’s always complained so much about them and tried to ignore them and tried to pretend he was a normal human, he’s always seen them as a curse (except when they’re helping him with lacrosse) so it’d be, in some ways, a bittersweet poetry if he had to give up those powers to save everyone and became the only human in the group, being othered all over again but in a much different way (this, ofcourse, partly would depend on magic!Stiles being a thing because otherwise the impact wouldn’t be there because they’d BOTH be outsiders again just like season one and nothing woudl have changed) The problem I have with this is that it really tears apart the allegory, a gay kid can’t just release his gayness into the ether and then go about his life as a straight person, if Scott did the werewolf equivolant it would destroy the message

***On the topic of homophobia not existing in the world of Teen Wolf, we see no homophobia, true, but bisexuality is treated rather weirdly, the idea of being attracted to more than one gender seems to take people by surprise (Stiles and Liam specifically) and this is especially noticeable when Caitlyn and Stiles have their scene at the rave, Stiles seems surprised and confused by the idea of Caitlyn liking both girls and boys and doesn’t quite roll along with it as easily as he always does when someone mentions being gay, I still think we’re going to get a scene about bisxeuality between Jackson and Stiles with Stiles acting in surprise that Jackson is bi and Jackson rolling his eyes about it, bisexuality seems to just be extremely uncommon in the Teen Wolf world, there are allegories for that too but… it’s five A.M. and this has gone on long enough ;)

#Teen Wolf

7 notes · View notes

nylonsandlipstick · 7 years

Note

Hi there, would you mind explain why you consider cc and tmi books problematic? I mean they are a somehow flat especially compare to tid/tda but I don’t think i would called them problematic. As for Claire I have hear people to complain about her in the past but always judging by her books I can’t see why. Now this not to say you are wrong or anything like that. I’m just curious on the matter.

Hi! First I’d like to thank you for being so polite in your ask! I know a lot of CC and TMI fans, even casual fans, can be very rude about anyone who views CC or TMI negatively.

So, I’ll start with the analytical book stuff and then go on to the author gossip so that you can have some legit criticism and then read the gossip-y stuff if you’d like and I’ll even direct you to some posts that explain certain things in better details and offer sources so that it doesn’t seem like I’m just offering a bunch of baseless rumors. Also, be warned, I write long analytical posts as I have no chill lol so this post is going to be rather long even though I'll try to cut to the chase.

The Mortal Instruments books aren’t the best books I’ve ever read, not even by a long shot, but the plot itself isn’t problematic. While I don’t like how the books come off more as a series of events strung together by a halfhearted central plot with rather bland and one-dimensional characters, it’s not those things that make the books problematic but rather the characters and the way Clare handles them.

Let’s start with Clary since she’s the main character. She’s rather bland and just really whiny (not a character I disliked or liked, she kind of feels…there) but what makes her problematic is just how she seems to hate all female characters that are prettier than her and could be possible love-interests for Jace. The books give her a weird relationship with Izzy but it’s nowhere near a friendship. She’ll spend so much time kind of side-eyeing Izzy and judging Izzy for how she dresses and basically slut-shaming Izzy and it’s not even because Clary doesn’t like girls that dress like that and sleep around but rather just because she believes that Izzy is a main contender in the competition of winning over Jace. One thing I don’t like that Clare did was play on that stupid trope of girls only seeing each other as competition for a guy (we even see a bit of that in TID with Tessa immediately viewing Jessie as competition for Will but, thankfully, moving past that quickly as she understands that Jessie has no interest in either Will or Jem for that matter). I also really disliked that Clary uses Simon during that godforsaken faux incest plot just to make Jace jealous (which is so wrong on so many levels, but I’ll get to the incest later). Clary also used Alec’s sexuality as leverage against him which is so wrong (Alec’s reaction to Clary realizing his sexuality wasn’t great either).

I think Clare just doesn’t know how to make good female characters in the first place as she makes Izzy super bad too. She’s written as a character that’s supposed to be a slut in no uncertain terms, and that’s just so bad. It’s not like Clare even tries to make it so that Izzy is super comfortable in her body and everyone accepts her because the way she dresses doesn’t make for her intelligence and her ability to fight (which we all know she’s good at). Clare just makes Izzy a pretty face with nothing but boys and how to dress provocatively on her mind, which I don’t think is necessarily bad, if it weren’t for the fact that Clare makes those things out to be bad. I absolutely adore female characters that love dressing up and love constantly dating and don’t care much for fighting if they’re properly developed because I’m so tired of the “I hate dresses and makeup and I’m not like other girls, I’m one of the guys” female characters that are just so annoying at this point. Clare just acts like being feminine and being comfortable in your body are such bad things when that’s not supposed to be true at all. And Izzy really isn’t even there as an actual main character but rather to make Clary seem like the better of the two girls because she’s not what Izzy supposedly represents (femininity and sexuality) and eventually only there as Simon’s love interest (so to further a male character’s love story).

So, as of now, Clare really isn’t seeming like the feminist she claims she is as she not only poorly represents her female characters, she uses them to further male story-lines and there is a huge difference in the female to male ratio in the series (the story is honestly so male-dominated and there’s no balance in female and male characters whatsoever, e are about three main female characters with a dozen of main male characters).

Jace really isn’t problematic in his characterization like Clary or in what he does aside from the faux incest subplot. He’s definitely unlikable and a total Bad Boy trope with untapped potential for being an amazing multi-dimensional character and has an unnecessarily complicated backstory but that’s not really bad outside of writing-wise. So, because I really don’t want to push it off anymore, I’m going to talk about the incest subplot. First of all, incest should very much not be used as some sort of obstacle a couple has to go through to prove their love for each other or whatever. Anything else would have been better, even having Izzy as a legitimate love interest for Jace would have been better. I found it just so uncomfortable having to read through that Seelie Court scene. And the fact that Jace and Clary continued to have feelings for each other and didn’t even try to squash their feelings down and try to see each other as full-blooded siblings just made it all worse. I was so relieved when Valentine admitted that he pretended to be Jace’s father (again, the unnecessarily complicated backstory)…then almost threw up when Sebastian came in and showed romantic interest in his own sister. I understand that Sebastian is supposed to be creepy and unlikable, but, damn, Clare could have done without the incest subplot. It makes it all more irksome that Sebastian is very aware that Clary is his full-blooded sister and yet he still somehow can’t control his feelings for her? The only time I want to see any incest in any form is in an episode of Law & Order: SVU where the main detectives spend the entire episode denouncing incest and calling it wrong in every aspect.

One of the bigger problems I had in the series was Alec. So that you know, I do not like Alec at all, and don’t care for him. Just because Matthew Daddario plays him in the show doesn’t mean I suddenly like show!Alec over book!Alec (although show!Alec has some redeemable traits). I don’t like him at all, period. That way you know that my criticism about Alec isn’t because “Well show!Alec is better and book!Alec this and that, and Matthew plays him which makes him so much better” as I’ve seen a lot of people do. Matthew seems like a kind and likable dude, but I cannot just get behind Alec at all. Aside from being such a stoic and bland character (I don’t really do serious characters, they’re not very fun and they remain rather static throughout stories which is boring), Alec is such a gross character and such a poor excuse for homosexual representation. I think it’s so sad that Clare made her only gay (male homosexual, I only specify since gay is used as a blanket term a lot of the times) character so unlikable and very biphobic. Not only does Alec threaten bodily harm to Clary so that she doesn’t reveal his sexuality (which is a huge no-no, that’s a terrible way to handle a closeted character’s anxiety over coming out), when Alec’s sexuality is finally revealed, it’s in Simon’s point of view which is just so…ugh. Alec is such a huge slut-shamer too; he’s right on par with Clary. He spends so much time egging Magnus about his past relationships and acting like Magnus, a hundred-something years old man, would never have had any relationship before Alec at all. What makes Alec’s slut-shaming so much worse is that it always points back to Magnus’s bisexuality. As a bisexual myself, I hate seeing people slut-shaming us bisexuals (when we’re not being out right ignored, that is) because we go both ways. It’s as if a heterosexual or homosexual isn’t as likely to cheat or be sexually promiscuous at all. It’s just so gross and uncomfortable and what made me absolutely despise Alec. And anyone, even a bisexual, who supports Alec’s biphobia because it’s “realistic” should remember that the Shadowhunter world is full of angels, demons, werewolves, vampires, and magical objects with few poc and lgbt+ characters; CC is far from realism at this point, she could have done without the biphobia.

Magnus isn’t perfect either as he’s so unnecessarily rude to Alec for not coming out quickly and basically attacking Alec for not admitting his sexuality to everyone. You’d think that Magnus, a bisexual man born in the nineteenth century, would understand that it would be difficult for Alec to come out as gay and that he should be so supportive of Alec and help him through it.

Racial/ethnic and sexual representation is at such a minimum and Clare just doesn’t seem to know how to handle her poc and lgbt+ characters properly at all. We have only four lgbt+ characters, one of which is biphobic (Alec), two whom are super minor and there to further other characters’ stories (Magnus and Aline), and one who doesn’t even appear much in general (Helen) and the only two lgbt+ relationships in the entire TMI series seem to have to go through so many obstacles that either the heterosexual relationships don’t have to go through or if they’re in a similar circumstance is easily resolved (like the immortality question for Malec is somehow unable to be resolved and actually made more difficult while Sizzy resolve the immortality question so quickly and easily). And as far as I can remember, most of the TMI characters are very white. The only non-white/ethnic representation we get are Simon (Jewish), Maia (biracial, black and white I believe), Aline (Chinese, if I remember correctly), Magnus (biracial, Indonesian and Dutch), and Jordan (ethnically and racially ambiguous). That’s five characters that I can remember from a very, very long list of characters. So, Clare isn’t much of a good white ally either.

Those are just some of my main problems with The Mortal Instruments books that I feel make them problematic. I know some people can pull out a lot more things I forgot as it’s been a while since I even touched those books. I understand that those books were her first ones to be published and writing changes (as seen in her other series), but Cassandra Clare as a person really does not seem to change.

I’m not as well versed in the problems with Cassandra Clare so I’ll link you to a couple of posts as I give my brief points that explain everything better and give sources (because in situations like these, sources are necessary so that you don’t come off as some Gossip Girl).

So, for Cassandra Clare, you’ll have to bare with me as she’s done a good amount of things that even I can’t keep straight and I’ll definitely miss out on some stuff.

She has a history of cyberbullying fans and continues to do so (x)

She tried to scam the fandom in something that’s called LaptopGate (x)

She plagiarized the hell out of other authors’ works and she won’t apologize for it and won’t even admit it (x)(x)

She seems to have a need for taking down anyone who tries point out her plagiarism/any problematic content her books have and then cries anti-bullying because she got hurt (x)

She’s was and still is hateful of the show (x)(x)(x)

She basically told a fan asking for positive Muslim representation that it won’t happen (x)

She claims that people dislike her because she’s a woman (x)

She claims that the reason why she couldn’t include much Malec (or LGBT+ rep in general) was because her publishing company was conservative which is a bald-faced lie (x)(x)

She tweeted about Magnus currently identifying as bisexual even though she headcanons him pansexual because he would date someone nonbinary which just goes to show her ignorance about sexuality (x)

I really recommend you go through the anti CC tag. There will definitely be a lot of negative things said as many people are angry at CC but you'll get a better understanding as to why people are mad and believe CC and TMI are problematic.

Just for the record, I will say that I am a fan of the books Clare writes. I really enjoyed The Infernal Devices (although I had a few problems with the series but most of them being plot-wise and not liking a few characters) and I’ve heard better things about The Dark Artifices (I’ve also heard it’s got a few problems with its representation but that it’s a step up from The Mortal Instruments). While I don’t agree with and dislike a lot of the things she’s done and written, I think the books are wonderful. I believe that it’s absolutely possible to enjoy a book or television series or movie or whatever and acknowledge that it’s problematic. And I will also say that while I like Shadowhunters better than The Mortal Instruments books, I don’t think that the show is flawless and free of problems. It’s still rather problematic with it’s use of stereotypes, whitewashing/scooting around the ethnicity of certain characters played by pocs (the Lightwood and Lewis families), sidelining of pocs, inherent homophobia (basically queerbaited with Malec and didn’t even show tons of scenes that would have been shown for a straight couple), and a few other problems. But the show is definitely a step up from the books. They really change a lot of things that just didn’t sit well with not only myself but a lot of the book readers and they also fix a ton of plot holes that were in the books.

Anyway, I digress. I really hope that you see this as actual criticism and not me just hating for the sake of hating. You can totally disagree with some of the things that I mentioned and view things differently than I do as that’s your right. But, anyway, I hope this explained things well!

#asks #not narnia #tmi #anti cc #anti cassandra clare

136 notes · View notes