#//regardless. neither of them would go willingly

[gas-stxtion]

//someone in a discord server i'm in posted this alignment chart and. of course. i had to fill it out.

blank under the cut!

#as far as jobs go‚ it's not the best‚ but it's not the worst either {headcanons} #you know this whole thing is one big experiment‚ right? and you're the little mouse? {ooc} #❝ i told him i was surprised he was still alive ; he mistook it for a compliment ❞ {jerry pascal} #❝ i'm the only full time employee‚ which means i'm on the clock more often than not ❞ {jack townsend} #❝ she's a tough as a brick brooklyn transplant with an itchy trigger finger ❞ {amelia o'brien} #❝ seeing tony actually upset was the scariest thing i'd ever seen ❞ {antonio vargas} #❝ her name is rosa‚ and despite her eager optimism‚ i guess she's pretty cool ❞ {rosa vasquez} #❝ if he was going to kill me‚ i wanted him to think i wasn't afraid ❞ {spencer middleton} #//the only one i'm a bit unsure on is tony #//i think he could use therapy but he needs it less than spencer #//regardless. neither of them would go willingly #//jack is only in the 'would willingly attend therapy' quadrant b/c he does canonically attend therapy

[thrumbolt]

Top 5 most annoying Tamlin scene misinterpretations

1. ''There is no such thing as a high lady'' I hate this one, because it is always taken as some sort of proof that Tamlin is a raging misogynist who doesn't want an equal woman by his side or some similar type of nonsense. I don't know where this is coming from. Tamlin never wanted to be a high lord. He would probably welcome for someone to take over most of the work so he could just keep running through the woods. He also has absolutely no issues with taking advice from women in power (Ianthe? Hello??). His first reaction to the high lady question is literally this:

“Is everyone just going to call me ‘Tamlin’s wife’? Do I get a … title?” He lifted his head long enough to look at me. “Do you want a title?”

And let's not forget that Feyre's first reply is ''No, I don’t know if I can handle them calling me High Lady”. To which he then answers that she doesn't have to worry about that, since ''there is no such thing as a high lady'' because the magic choses the title and it keeps chosing males. Also this whole scene happens while he eats her out. Not that it's relevant or anything, just saying...

2. ''Tamlin killed Rhys' family'' No. Tamlin's dad killed Rhys' family. I have no idea how Tamlin doing it is ever the takeaway from that whole story. Let's just quote the actual scene:

“Tamlin’s father, brothers, and Tamlin himself set out into the Illyrian wilderness, having heard from Tamlin—from me—where my mother and sister would be, that I had plans to see them. I was supposed to be there. I wasn’t. And they slaughtered my mother and sister anyway.”

Yeah okay, Tamlin gave the information (supposedly) and was there (supposedly) sure, but it's highly unlikely that he was so willingly. Let's not forget that it's established that Tamlin was afraid of his father, that Tamlin's father is worse than Beron (who, I might remind you, tortures his sons) and that Tamlin was friends with Rhys at the time - which neither family approved of. Even Rhys doesn't actually believe Tamlin did anything besides being spineless:

''I didn’t care that Tamlin had been there, had allowed them to kill my mother and sister, that he’d come to kill me because he didn’t want to risk standing against them.''

In the end we don't know the details. Tamlin could've been tortured and tied up or whatever. Making him watch could've been a cruel form of punishment for being friends with Rhys. We don't really know until SJM graces us with Tamlin's side of the story.

3. ''It's really Tamlin's own fault that the spring court fell'' Alternatively also phrased as: 'Feyre just opened everyone's eyes to Tamlin's incompetence' and....honestly? This low key makes me question the reading comprehension of people.

Yes, Tamlin made a deal with Hybern, which was extremely risky, but the war was coming regardless (as we learn from Rhys in the first half of ACOMAF) and the spring court would be the main target because of its location next to the wall. Inviting Hybern into his lands in a trade is actually a pretty smart way to avoid a lot of death on Tamlin's part - plus he needed help to rescue Feyre and get her out of the deal she had with Rhysand (people forget that Tamlin didn't know Feyre didn't actually need rescuing from the guy that was abusing her in front of him in ACOTAR).

So yeah anyway, Feyre did several things to make the spring court fall: 1. She manipulated the solstice ceremony to make herself seem cauldron-blessed in the eyes of the people, 2. She made a sentry accuse Ianthe (who WAS doing sneaky shit) which essentially did nothing except putting Tamlin on the spot in front of Hybern, so he was kind of forced to throw the sentry under the bus. Good job Feyre, you got a poor sod whipped! But it also built resentment within the soldiers, which was her plan all along and 3. before leaving, she did this (let's just quote the whole thing):

''I had a people who had lost faith in their High Priestess. I had sentries who were beginning to rebel against their High Lord. And as a result of those things, I had Hybern royals doubting the strength of their allies here. I’d primed this court to fall. Not from outside forces—but its own internal warring. And I had to be clear of it before it happened. Before the last sliver of my plan fell into place. The party would return without me. And to maintain that illusion of strength, Tamlin and Ianthe would lie about it—where I’d gone. And perhaps a day or two after that, one of these sentries would reveal the news, a carefully sprung trap that I’d coiled into his mind like one of my snares. I’d fled for my life—after being nearly killed by the Hybern prince and princess. I’d planted images in his head of my brutalized body, the markings consistent with what Dagdan and Brannagh had already revealed to be their style. He’d describe them in detail—describe how he helped me get away before it was too late. How I ran for my life when Tamlin and Ianthe refused to intervene, to risk their alliance with Hybern. And when the sentry revealed the truth, no longer able to stomach keeping quiet when he saw how my sorry fate was concealed by Tamlin and Ianthe, just as Tamlin had sided with Ianthe the day he’d flogged that sentry …When he described what Hybern had done to me, their Cursebreaker, their newly anointed Cauldron-blessed, before I’d fled for my life … There would be no further alliance. For there would be no sentry or denizen of this court who would stand with Tamlin or Ianthe after this. After me.''

So, the sentries left Tamlin because of a lie. A fake story. Without sentries, Hybern decided to take over rather than just be guests and had a prime spot to attack the summer court in turn. Which is also why Tarquin is extremely pissed at Feyre - not Tamlin. So no, Tamlin wasn't a bad high lord. His only real mistake was ever trusting Feyre.

Sure, some argue that Feyre thought Tamlin genuinely sided with Hybern and might be a threat to the rest of Prythian, so taking him down would make sense for her even outside of petty revenge. But there's just one problem with that: Feyre is a mind reader. She could have just.....checked. lol

4. ''Tamlin didn't do anything Under the Mountain'' This one really gets my goat because it's not really true? Things Tamlin did to help Feyre: 1. He sent her away to the human realm. (People forget this, but he basically doomed his court to protect her ass - it's not his fault she came back!) 2. He made Lucien check up on her. (Yes Lucien was Feyre's friend but he still acted under Tamlin's orders!) 3. He ignored Feyre as to not rile Amarantha up even more (Come on, have you seen Amarantha? It totally makes sense) 4. He tries to get to Feyre, begging Amarantha to stop even as he is tied up, bleeding out from a stab wound to his chest that he can't heal because he has no powers - like what do you want him to do??? 4. He literally kills Amarantha the second he is able to

Also personal conspiracy detour: That music that Rhysand supposedly sent to Feyre was SO originally supposed to be Tamlin, you can't convince me otherwise. I will never not believe that this wasn't just a lazily done quick change when SJM rewrote book 1 and 2 to account for the boyfriend switcheroo. Attributing the music to Rhys makes absolutely zero sense. He's not a musical boy at all, come on! Music themes never come up with him again either! Meanwhile Tamlin played for Feyre before, is generally a musical guy COME ON! /conspiracy detour over

5. ''It's Tamlin's fault that Nesta and Elaine got turned to fae'' No. No it's not. He knew nothing about this. Ianthe did this on her own accord because Feyre told her where her sister's lived. Tamlin actually attacks (!) the King of Hybern over it (to no avail, but still).

Some people blame Tamlin for keeping Ianthe around afterwards, despite of what she did. Those people I want to refer to point number 3 in this list. Ianthe was working with Hybern. Tamlin tried to be buddies with Hybern for reasons. No, he can't just throw out Ianthe.

#thanks for coming to my tedtalk #tamlin #acotar #idk man i get that people hate him but literally everything he does gets interpreted in the most unfavorable way ever #or simply misquoted #and it's annoying ok #feel free to add to it or correct me #SORRY THIS GOT LONG I WENT OFF A LITTLE #pro tamlin #i guess

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Heracles with fem!giyuu!reader scenario

Collab work with @deathmetalunicorn1. This can be seen as either a platonic or a slow burn romance scenario.

warnings: violence, canon divergence, and possibly Brunhilde's potty mouth.

Giyuu!reader is selected to fight in round four against Heracles, the mightiest demigod of Olympus. Brunhilde had emphasized that his strength is nothing to scoff at and to make sure to secure a win so that Humanity will be given an advantage against the shitty gods. While she was not someone who judged a person by someone’s words alone, Giyuu!reader had promised Nezuko and Tanjiro that she would come back to them. And that is what she will do, regardless of who her opponent is in the arena. 

To her shock, Heracles had actually tried to persuade her to forfeit the match because he did not want to fight a woman. To him, it was dishonorable. She just looked at him for a moment, then unsheathed her sword and charged at him, though he had parried the blow with his club. 

Giyuu!reader clicked her tongue, leaping backwards and landing on her feet. She straightened her posture, [Eye Color] orbs staring at him icily. 

“This is a fight to save mankind…my gender is irrelevant. Or will you dare to change the match to suit your own benefit, as Zeus had done in the second match?” She asked, maneuvering her fingers around the leather handle of her sword before bending her knees. She inhaled her nose, exhaling through her mouth. 

“Water Breathing. Fifth Form. Blessed Rain After the Drought.”

Giyuu!reader darted across the arena, swinging her blade from the left, aiming at the demigod’s neck. She had hoped to finish her opponent in an act of kindness, but alas the tip of her blade barely made a dent as he had used his club again to parry. He pushed back against her, allowing Giyuu!reader to use his arm as leverage and leapt away again, putting distance between them. 

She frowned at him. “Stop this.” She said, “Fight back.” 

“I cannot and will not unless you lay down your arms.” He replied, lowering his club towards the ground, cerulean orbs bright with conviction and sincerity. He might…mean what he said, and these aren’t just pretty words to lower his opponent’s guard…it still pissed off Giyuu!reader that he was under the impression that she is weak. Yes, she is a Hashira, but she is neither the strongest nor the weakest Demon Slayer of the Corps. She did not survive for as long as she has, protecting Valhalla from the monsters on the other side of the Bifrost, by being soft either. 

“You are not a warrior.” Giyuu!reader snapped. “You….are pathetic.” Ignoring the outraged cries bouncing across the arena, she raised her blade at him with a single hand, the tip pointed at his chest.

“It is one thing to show mercy upon an enemy. But what about an opponent who is willingly to lay down her life in this fight, and she is expecting you to share the same courtesy, yet instead she is treated…like she is weak? This is not an act of mercy you are showing me. It is dishonorable. You, Heracles of the Grecian pantheon, have done nothing but humiliate me. Is that the reason you have chosen to be a representative of the Gods in this tournament, even when you proclaim to love humans? Or will you raise your weapon, shut up, and fight me with all of the strength that you possess?” 

“Then tell me what drives you.” Hercules pleaded. “Why are you doing this?” 

“...I can’t tell if you are being serious or just stupid.” Giyuu!reader spat. “You are fighting against someone who is considered to be powerful under Lord Hades’ command. Pummel me into the ground, right here and now, and I will gladly answer your question. Unless you have figured it out already, then congratulations. Either way I’m still going to win against you, even if it means I will sacrifice myself to ensure mankind will survive.” 

For a split second, Heracles noticed how his opponent’s shoulders tensed as someone called out to her from humanity’s side of the arena. He saw a young boy with a burn mark and wearing a checkered haori waving his arms frantically, a smaller girl with a bamboo piece in her mouth mimicking him, albeit with a bit more enthusiasm. 

The demigod closed his eyes. Inhaling deeply through his nose and exhaling through the mouth, Heracles raised his club, the spiked edges pointed at Giyuu!reader as she kept her sword pointed at him. 

“I love humans. I do not wish to see them destroyed when I know there is still hope for them to strive, to grow, and become better. Therefore…I will not kill a warrior who is fighting for such an honorable reason. Come, I will give you what you want. Instead of a clean death, however, I will fight until one of us loses consciousness. There has been enough death here today.” 

“Fine. The victor shall be the one who is not incapacitated.” 

Heracles nodded, and got into a fighting position. So did Giyuu!reader. Although the crowd - humans and gods - jeered at their words and wished to see more carnage, Zeus silenced them with his own agreement. He will make an exception in this round of Ragnarok…but no more mercy beyond round four. 

Giyuu!reader fought against the red-haired giant, deflecting his movements and using her Breathing techniques to counterattack. But….in the end, Heracles was too powerful. Giyuu!reader lost. Another win for the gods. And Brunhilde reminded her of her failure as soon as she gained consciousness in the medical wing, the Valkyrie glaring at Giyuu!reader. 

The Water Hashira felt frustrated tears building in the back of her eyes, rapidly blinking them away and praying that Brunhilde would not see such…an unsightly display of weakness. She was prepared for another tongue lashing when a familiar, deep voice rang in the white room.

“That’s enough, Brunhilde!”

Giyuu!reader looked up and saw Heracles hobble through the door, his broad chest and left arm covered in bandages. She noticed that the demigod was leaning heavily against his club, using it as a cane of sorts as he glared at the Valkyrie. 

“It isn’t like I walked away from this fight unscathed either. Nor was it a failure on her part. Do you know how rare it is to find a human who is able to keep up with my physical strength? And it was a tie, Brunhilde, not a failure.”

Giyuu!reader stared at him with widened eyes. “...A tie?” She whispered, averting her attention back to the dark-haired woman. Brunhilde sighed, her hands planted on her hips and lips curled into a frown. 

“He speaks the truth, though in hindsight, there is no predicting how this tournament will proceed. A complete victory would have been preferable…but this…I’ll accept it. For now. And you did fight hard, and with courage, unlike some of the warriors I had spoken to before coming to you. So…forgive me.” She inclined her head slightly to Giyuu!reader before she strode towards the door. The Valkyrie then looked back at the Hashira. 

“Get some rest.” 

That was the last thing Brunhilde had said before she skittered out of the room, leaving Giyuu!reader alone with the demigod. She said nothing, watching Heracles smiling boyishly at her as he carefully lowered himself on the edge of the bed, causing Giyuu!reader to scoot a little towards the right so that he’d have enough room. “How do you feel?” Giyuu!reader asked, tilting her head. “If we were both knocked out…then why weren’t you in the same room as I? Did the gods fear I would try to finish the job as soon as I was conscious?” She would have done it too, if Heracles had been a demon instead of a half-mortal, half-god she fought against in a tournament where the fate of humanity hung in the balance.

 Giyuu!reader watched as his eyes widened for a fraction before he threw his head back, a booming laugh bouncing off the walls. He laughed for a bit, and then looked at her, his grin stretched from ear to ear.

“Sorry. I-It’s just…wow, I definitely wasn’t expecting that! No. The hospital policy is to not have men and women share the same room, even when there are curtains that can be used for privacy and so on.” He chuckled, using the back of his hand to wipe away some tears that were trickling down his face from laughing too hard. 

Giyuu!reader blinked, staring at him blankly. “I suppose that does make sense.” She muttered. “Will you be leaving soon then? I’ve heard gods and demigods have extraordinary regenerative abilities.”

“Soon.” He said, flexing his left arm. “The facilities used here are amazing, and you’ll get to go back home too!”

“And our fight was most definitely a tie?”

“Absolutely! It was a double-knock out! Everyone saw it, and they can certainly not deny it! Even Heimdall was astonished at your strength. Oh, we could even have another match when you’ve made a full recovery! Ares is an amazing fighter like you, but he’s not always available! And I’ve never seen a fighting style like yours, it’s incredible!”

Giyuu!reader stared at him for a long moment until she slowly nodded in agreement. 

“I would not mind.” She said softly. “Although…knowing Tanjiro and Nezuko, they will probably give me quite the scolding when I return to the compound.” Just when she said those words with a small smile, which caused Heracles’ heart to skip a beat upon seeing such a lovely expression on the warrior’s face, however, the door opened with a loud ‘bang’. Both of them turned and saw a little girl with a bamboo piece in her mouth, pink eyes widening before she began to weep. Without a word of warning, she blitzed towards Giyuu!reader, performing a small backflip as her body shrunk to the size of a toddler and landed squarely on the Hashira’s solar plexus, knocking the wind of her with a grunt. 

But Giyuu!reader didn’t push the child away. Instead, she pulled the little one into a hug as chubby arms coiled around her neck. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m alright, Nezuko. See? I told you everything would be fine.”  The Hashira cooed, slowly rocking her body back and forth. 

From the corner of his eye, Heracles saw another human enter the room. Taller, and he couldn’t have been younger than fifteen or seventeen summers with dark red hair and a green checkered haori draped over his black uniform with silver buttons. The demigod immediately recognized him, and the little girl. They were from the arena, and the boy called out to Giyuu!reader during the match. 

The boy, whom he had to guess was Tanjiro, stared at him with nervous, inquisitive eyes. Heracles smiled at him, and stood from the bed, allowing the tiny mortal to approach Giyuu!reader. Tanjiro beamed at him before he walked over to Giyuu!reader’s side, throwing his arms around the Water Hashira and Nezuko, burying his face in the former’s shoulder. When he pulled away, the demigod saw that this boy wasn’t even trying to hide his tears. He had been truly worried about Giyuu!reader. 

Giyuu!reader smiled at him, raising a hand and stroking the top of his head before trying to wipe away his tears, although such a tender gesture only made him cry even harder.  

While he didn't know the history between these three individuals, it was clear to Heracles that they shared a close bond with one another. He smiled, watching Giyuu!reader panicking over Tanjiro while the little one, Nezuko, looked up at him with tiny flowers over her head till she decided to hug his uninjured leg. His grin widened. 

Humans were truly amazing. 

“Say, once we’ve been cleared by the healers to be released, how about we all go out and get something to eat? My treat!”

Tanjiro and Nezuko definitely wanted to go, but they left the final decision to Giyuu!reader as they stared at her with wide, curious eyes. Giyuu!reader nodded. 

“It would be our honor, Heracles of the Grecian pantheon. I hope we can wait to spar until we’ve fully healed?” She asked with a raised brow. Heracles beamed, jabbing a thumb at his chest.

“Of course! I swear upon my honor!”

“Then it is settled.” 

Heracles felt his heart race and his smile widen upon seeing her smile for the second time. He did not know why he felt like this. The only conclusion he could come up with is that he didn’t have to kill this strangely wonderful woman and cause grief for these children. He wouldn’t find out the actual truth until much, much later.

Taglist

@swallowtailcherry

@rukia-writes

@imperfectbloodmoon

@kanroji-san

@onecantsimply

@thatstrangesheep

@technikerin23

@samoaz

@mistradamus

@screechingmilkshakepersona

@melou008

@ladykitsunesworld

@currentlyinhell

@diamondzoey

@dragonempress18

@abelheilonwife

@officialzerofukugodofmisfortune

@sleep-all-day-everyday

@mooly-artistic

@mortemorii

@puffy-bangs

@bones4thecats

@nunezs-stuff

#an idyllic novelist #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok #ror x reader #snv x reader #fem reader #snv #snv heracles #ror heracles #giyuu!reader #fem!reader #heracles x reader

[nerdyenby]

Me making literally any two characters foils:

So Scott and Scar in secret life express love in opposite ways. All three of Scott’s lives were given willingly, the man lives and breathes sacrifice. He wants to see those he cares about succeed more than he cares about his own chances. He runs to Martyn, to Gem, and tells them to kill him. Scott has made it far enough too many times to have any illusion about how these games end. When he dies, he wants it to be not a tragedy but an act of love. His game has to end somehow, and it might as well be at the hands of his allies, giving them a parting gift to increase their odds however he can. Scar, on the other hand, hadn’t won before. While Scott often has the most dedicated and steadfast alliances in these games, Scar tends to end up alone. Scar, who is clumsy and is actively unbothered by jabs at his apparent incompetence, was never expected to make it this far. No one thought Scar would win, least of all himself. Being so consistently underrated with his skills often going unnoticed, he’s as surprised as anyone by him making it as far as he did. Still, it is largely because of his reputation as accident prone that Scar refuses charity. Pearl offers her life on a platter to him several times, but he adamantly refuses every time. Out of character, Scar tells her that he doesn’t want to win that much, not like that. If he’s going to win, it’s going to be by his own merit. Besides that, he won’t accept sacrifice on account of respect. He says to Pearl over and over again that she gets this far because she’s good at what she does, that she should be proud of that. Pearl deserves better than a lackluster sacrifice to someone who was barely even an ally earlier that same episode. She deserves to take it as far as she can, Scar refuses to get in the way of that, not unless he has to. When it comes down to the two of them, he was more than willing to fight as long as she fought back. Scar wasn’t going to tolerate Pearl sacrificing herself, out of both pride and admiration. But what if there was another factor as well? After all, Scar’s been on the other side of sacrifices before. The first winner of the series achieved as much largely due to Scar’s willingness to offer himself up. Scar had urged Grian to kill him as soon as they were both on red, but — just like Scar four seasons later — Grian refused. Instead of doing what Scar said and killing him then and there, the pair headed back home. They said their goodbyes, and leveled the playing field as much as possible. Regardless, Scar knew who had to win. Scar has always been a better fighter than anyone has given him credit for, if he had any desire to be the one left standing, he would have put up more of a fight. Instead, he took his time and pulled his punches while Grian mercilessly wailed on him. Grian wouldn’t accept a direct sacrifice, just like Scar refused with Pearl, but that doesn’t mean neither Scar nor Pearl had any plans of making it out alive. Looking back at Third Life, it’s hard to say if Scar regrets how he handled the final duel, if he wishes it had happened differently, but we know his and Grian’s relationship was never the same. Grian distanced himself from Scar, they always gravitated towards one another but Grian kept pulling away. Scar may not regret the way Third Life ended but Grian does, and Grian’s regret haunts Scar too.

#I was gonna do paragraph breaks but then I decided it’d be funnier if it was just one big block of text #sorry #secret life #life series #trafficblr #scott smajor #goodtimeswithscar #pearlescentmoon #grian #nerdy’s traffic analysis #not proofread we die like… uh… everyone ig

[sugarskies]

absolutely begging for a funny theta/koschei crackfic or one shot. love ur deca series btw!! 🖤

hi anon sorry it took me a week to get back to u! beg and u shall receive. i was going to give context here but i can't. there is none. i don't know what this is. i had fun writing it ? and thank you!! 💖💖

without further ado... whatever this is!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“I need to tell you something.”

There was an intensity to Theta’s voice that Koschei barely recognized. He wasn’t about to reveal that he’d painted a new masterpiece or blown up another classroom, it was serious. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait for the news to come.

“I cheated on you,” said Theta, his tone blunt but filled with guilt. Koschei’s jaw dropped, all coherent thoughts fading in favor of deep disappointment and unbridled rage. “I’m so sorry, Kos. If you never forgive me, I’ll und—”

Koschei didn’t wait to hear Theta’s excuses. He turned around and stormed out the door, his destination already in mind. There was no way that Theta would willingly cheat on him. They were so in love, how could he? He had to have been tricked, enchanted even, and there was only one person who could be responsible.

The moment he reached the door, he pounded on it. There was no response from inside but he refused to give up. He pounded until his hands hurt, until the hinges became so weak they broke right off the wall. The door collapsed and he collapsed on top of it, panting his exhaustion as he looked around the room in bewilderment.

“What the hell did you do to my door?”

The realization that Vansell was behind him hit hard. Koschei really spent hours busting down the door for nothing. He took a second to stare at the ground in shock before he rose to his feet. He put one foot behind him, bent his knees, and braced his hands in position, ready to fight. The confusion on Vansell’s face only increased.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” Koschei sneered. “You might be a piece of shit but Theta has a conscience. He told me. I know what you guys did.”

Vansell didn’t have time to so much as open his mouth before Koschei’s fist flew into his jaw. He stumbled backward into the hallway, into Theta. Theta blinked twice, briefly catching Vansell before letting go and allowing him to fall to the floor. Rather than going around or staying put since he was literally right outside the door, Theta stepped on Vansell’s stomach, ignoring the crack of his ribs and his pained groans as he approached Koschei.

“Hey.” Theta kicked Vansell’s legs out of the way when he stumbled. What an inconsiderate place to collapse. “I didn’t cheat on you with Nosebung. Do you really think I’d fuck a guy named Nosebung?”

“Haven’t you fucked him before?”

“Hate-fucking doesn’t count. We’ve been over this.”

If only because he was desperate for answers, Koschei let out a defeated sigh. “Then who?”

“It’s… come on.”

Theta took Koschei’s hand and led him out of the room. Together, they stepped on Vansell, chuckling at the quiet crack from inside his chest. Neither looked back as they walked down the hall, Vansell’s pained groans echoing behind them. Koschei didn’t have the faintest idea where Theta was taking him or who he was going to meet but it didn’t matter. The element of surprise might even work in his favor.

Because it didn’t matter who Theta cheated on him with. Not really. He was going to kill them regardless.

The further they walked, the more confused Koschei became. He’d assumed that Theta would take him to another dorm but they left that building entirely. Theta led him to the science center, past every classroom he was familiar with, to a strange door. Theta took a deep breath before he unlocked it. He reached for the doorknob with one hand, still squeezing Koschei’s hand with the other.

“You’re never going to look at me the same way after this,” said Theta, his voice barely above a whisper. Koschei gripped Theta’s hand tighter, giving him a reassuring look. It was okay. While Theta had a doorknob in his spare hand, Koschei had a knife. He was ready for anyone. At least, that was what he thought until Theta opened the door.

Of all the people he was prepared to stab—which was just about anyone in the universe—somehow, Theta managed to find the one that caught him off guard. Because, of course, the only person he could never have prepared to stab was himself. Koschei.

Koschei was standing in front of… himself?

“Hi Koschei,” said Koschei with a wave.

“Who the hell are you?” Koschei gaped. “What the hell are you?”

“Koschei.”

“No, no, I’m Koschei. You’re like… Fauxschi.”

“Okay.” His cheery shrug was the most frightening thing about him.

“Theta, what the hell is this?!”

“It’s kind of a long story. I don’t know if I really feel like— okay! Okay.” The look on Koschei’s face must’ve been murderous for the way Theta threw his hands in the air. “So, I was trying to clone a squirrel because I thought it would be really funny if there were like a thousand squirrels in here—”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” said Koschei.

“Me too,” said Fauxchei.

“—but one of your hairs must’ve fallen off my shirt or something because I left for one night and I came back ready to clone the squirrels and there you were. He was. And I know he’s not you but he looks like you and yeah, something in his brain is definitely wonky but he’s still really hot and I was powerless.”

“So you’re telling me…” Koschei cut himself off and blinked several times. He rubbed his eyes twice to be sure what he was seeing was real. There was no way. It was like something out of a stupid B-movie. “You’re telling me that you cheated on me with me?”

“But it wasn’t you.”

“Yeah, I know that. I meant— shit. I am pretty hot, aren’t I?”

Theta nodded enthusiastically but Fauxchei spoke first. “I am, thank you.”

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

“You were looking at me.”

“Because you look like me. Like a poor imitation of me but still like me. I was using you as a mirror to admire my own beauty.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Can I kill him?” Koschei turned to Theta abruptly, his expression dark and his tone serious. He pulled the knife from his sleeve and held it up for Theta to see. “I know exactly where to stab him. It’ll only take me one—”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his thought, cut off by Theta’s lips smashing into his. Theta’s hands grabbed each side of Koschei’s face, pulling his skin, his ears, holding him tightly as their bodies pressed together. Koschei kissed him back, one hand squeezing Theta’s waist and the other still gripping his knife.

“You’re so hot when you’re about to commit murder,” Theta breathed, his lips still almost touching Koschei’s.

“I’m even hotter when I’m doing it,” whispered Koschei as he grazed the back of his knife along Theta’s arm.

“Then do it.”

If there was any hesitation in the back of Koschei’s mind, it disappeared the moment Theta’s eyes met his, the moment Theta’s hand curled around his own and his knife. It didn’t matter who he had to kill, even if it was a clone of himself. Theta was his.

Or maybe he was Theta’s but he didn’t mind it that way.

#we're never discussing this again!!! i didn't write it!!! BYE #the next chapter of the deca is funny btw. at least i think so #anonymous anon #maskarons #the deca #theta sigma #koschei #thoschei #i shouldn't tag this actually. fade into obscurity please #i didn't even edit this. it felt wrong to “perfect” this piece

[never-seen-again]

Redemption and Jägerman: The Half-assed Character Analysis

Hi, yes, this is going to be very long and probably a decently niche thing, so if you don't care about one random person effectively infodumping about how they view Max as a character, I'm not going to make you scroll for too long (aka I'm going to try to put in a break) (this bitch is so fucking long). (Edit: things get serious, so like, if you want things to be light and fluffy just keep scrolling my dude)

So, you've decided to suffer through my madness. Good luck. I'm going to be talking about a few main topics: Disillusionment & Confronting the Problem, Cognitive Dissonance & Rationalization Reinforcing Behavior, and Expectations in Redemption. I'm going to close out with some background info on myself to give context to the POV these ideas are coming from. If only one or two sections seem interesting I'm going to make the sections clearly marked out for better skipping around.

Disillusionment & Confronting the Problem

I don't think Max has heard a single thing he hasn't wanted to hear from someone he wasn't actively dehumanizing in several years. He's been surrounded by yes-men for at least the run of the musical, but almost definitely longer in "reality".

The Jocks we see (Kyle and Jason if I remember correctly) are, from what I've seen, cleansed of most/all culpability based off of their response to Max asked if they should let Richie go unscathed (and their later apologies to Richie and Grace, which are far more important, even if they are a bit half-assed with the 'until max comes back' part). While they do say "ha-ha, Yeah," It reads more as a 'oh, Max asked a question, just immediately agree with him' to me. They don't even stop to think about the content of the question. Blind agreement. I think the fact that neither moves from their position of boxing Richie in says that regardless of what Max asked, the response would've been the same.

These two even follow up with the unprompted commentary on Grace, who prior to Max's intervention in this scene was firmly in the "Loser" category. I bring this up because yes, these two stop the bullying after Max's death. But while Max is undoubtedly the catalyst, I can't be sure he's the cause. We would need to know what Hatchetfield High would look like either a long while before or after Max's influence or an alternate version of it wherein Max was simply never part of the equation to be sure.

(I'm going to go into the Pasqualli's scene and Jason's acceptance of Peter in the next section, so I'm not going to address it here)

While I was in high school, I had conversations, one on one, with people who I would, on large, consider assholes. In these conversations, they were like, decent people. But in their groups, they were still assholes. Could I see myself willingly hanging out with them as they were? No. But were they the people they were when one on one? Maybe. There is something to be said about social pressures to conform, but I won't get into that clusterfuck.

There are very few instances of anyone actually standing up to Max. Peter stands up to him, but he's a "Loser" (A concept I refine in the next section), Jason expresses doubt but doesn't direction challenge Max. The only person who isn't a "Loser" who shows intention of standing up to Max is Steph. Who, on the way to put into motion something that would possibly confront Max, gets pulled into Grace's Bully the Bully plan instead.

Not even adults seem to have put in any amount of work to actually trying to remedy Max's behavior. They just ship him out to an anti-bullying assembly and call it a day. In the Bathroom scene we learn that Max has "cool-kid privilege," in regards to actual disciplinary action, which to be fair likely wouldn't fix anything, but it shows the complacency of adults here if he has literally never been suspended or at least given detention for all the shit he's pulled both within the musical and what we can infer happening before it.

While I doubt Steph alone could break through the yes-men and "Fix" Max with just one conversation, I think she could place a seed of doubt in his mind. And Max isn't dumb. There's only two things that point to poor academics that I can recall: Remedial Algebra, and the tutor. And that doesn't really prove anything. I myself have nearly failed math classes, and I'm really good at math! Knowing this, either Max will either think through enough of the opposition of someone he respects, or he'll dismiss it entirely. Which is our first step toward Redemption.

Cognitive Dissonance & Rationalization Reinforcing Behavior

Max has categorized every student into one of two groups "Loser" and not that. These are somewhat absolutist titles. No one changes groups, ever. Except for Grace. Something I'll touch on later in this section. First I want to talk about this Fundamental Fixedness and how it contributes to my perception of Max. I believe he's constructed a very fragile way of maintaining himself. He's been to enough anti-bullying assemblies to get the gist that hurting people is generally considered bad. Whether that's internalized or not, I don't know. But again, I think he's smart. But he still hurts people. A lot. What if those he brands as "Losers" aren't quite people in his eyes. Still human, still whatever else, but lesser. Able to be abused without consequence. After all, he doesn't get any.

Now, I don't think he was birthed into this world with this conception. I think he trended toward popular crowds in primary education, and became a standard order bully. Emulating the behaviors of those above him in standing at this point, something small at first. Something justifiable. Like beating up a kid who snitched on a friend of Max's. As small actions had to be justified, the gulf between "Loser" and not expanded, to the point of dehumanizing "Losers." Then as he kept rising the ranks of popularity, he reached the top. But then he needed to extend a gulf between himself and the other popular people, to make his position infallible. He became their god (or in "reality" developed a God Complex). He alienated the "Losers" before alienating himself.

Now, what would happen if a "Loser" rose to the rank of not "Loser"? suddenly Max would have to contend with that he's actually hurt someone worth something. And if one person can rise past his labeling, then others could to, and he's hurt way more people than he realized.

But where does this leave Grace? Well, I don't think Max has actually placed her out of the "Loser" category. I think he's giving her special privilege until he gets what he wants out of her. There's a few posts that talk about how Grace's abstinence is a symbol of her faith in the Christian god, and how in sacrificing her chastity to the LiB she also sacrifices her faith to them. What if Max has a similar thought. That in acquiring the 'forbidden fruit' as it were he gains power, or more realistically, a greater sense of control. Max presumably hasn't shown interest before now. He's likely had other games he played for feelings of control.

Now, how could any of this possibly be an argument in favor of Max. Well, the next Step to Redemption would be abandoning the Fundamental Fixedness and taking on the burden of his actions. He has to contend with all the things he's justified under the dichotomy. The only reason I ever considered Max to be redeemable is because he makes it halfway through this step in the Musical. He accepts that maybe these roles can't be Fixed positions, specifically for people he isn't trying to get anything out of. Then he fucking dies. But he does abandon this ideology. Unfortunately the acquisition of supernatural powers and the drunken anger he felt as he died didn't make for a healthy way to handle the resulting dissonance, and instead got him pushed further off of the God Complex Cliff into a 'Yep, I hurt people and that's okay to do, because I'm god and everyone is below me' rather than the arguably healthier 'oh fuck I really fucked up I hurt so many people, shit'.

We see that he has stopped caring who is a "Loser" and who isn't. When Richie stands up to him with the iconic "I'm not a Loser" Max agrees. But it no longer matters. He knows he's going to kill Steph. She hurt him the most. But hurting someone he deemed "Cool" is still something he has trouble with. So Richie and Ruth are his warm up. He needs that time to adjust to hurting people, regardless of their rank. They aren't "Losers" anymore, but he's hurt them before, he can hurt them again with fewer issues. After Ruth, Max just goes wild. He kills Miss Tessburger, the mayor, tries to kill Shapiro, so on and so forth.

Max needs to abandon the dichotomy without going full homicidal maniac. Probably the expected when you don't die and gain supernatural powers that allow you to engage in the one remaining coping mechanism you can actually engage with in death (the coping mechanism is violence, if that wasn't clear).

Expectations in Redemption

Now, even if he does deconstruct the issues he has and how he's exerting control, he still needs to apologize, make efforts to rectify what he's done to those that even want him to continue affecting them, and accept that many will be unwilling to forgive him.

No one has any obligation to forgive him. That is the main thing. The specifics of what would even come close to what Max did being 'rectify' what he's done are beyond me, they'd likely vary character to character. But it is achievable.

Closing Statement

Also, Max is 18. While technically an adult, that brain is so undercooked, and this kid is young. I'm sure most people have done things they regret. Even things they doubled down on at the time. Things that only through hindsight do they realize how poorly they acted. I've acted in ways I don't like that at the time I thought were perfectly justified.

If Max makes efforts to be a better person, he deserves that chance.

Writer Bias and Background

Hi, said I'd do this. I am working with my experiences as my framework. As such, being clear about what those experiences are in a broad framework may help inform you of how much of my opinion you deem valuable.

I've never dealt with bulling to the extent Max inflicted on the students at Hatchetfield. In elementary school I was tripped with an amount of regularity, in middle school some kids poked and prodded me during classes to get a reaction, or to laugh at my lack of reaction despite their actions. In high school I was called a [f-slur] several times and threatened with violence once. My experiences are incredibly mild.

I am presently in college, working towards a psych degree. I have taken very few higher level psychology classes. I am not an expert, I just know some base level stuff about some of the vocab, which I have utilized here. My usage of these terms is based on my present understanding of them. I probably made mistakes.

There may be some confirmation bias occurring, be it from the pretty privilege that max has from being portrayed by an attractive performer, or just a deep seated self-loathing that manifests as a need for characters to have a path to redemption regardless of their failings.

Fuckin' ridiculous that I feel the need to include this but I am a part of the "Michie nation" as it were. It shouldn't really matter, but yeah, this is more about Max Jägerman's ability to become a better person given the opportunity than any romantic entanglements he might engage with.

#nerdy prudes must die #max jagerman #after writing all this it feels like a bad idea #oh well too late now

[faerywhimsy]

Day 7 - Moonlight & Nightmares

Marius had begun to excuse himself from the ballroom in order to go speak with Armand. Armand had been wholly absent in the face of the celebration at Marius’ return. If he had thought it would be easy to miss him in the crowd that had assembled for Lestat’s triumphant reunion with Marius, Louis and Gabrielle, Armand had been sorely mistaken.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Daniel had murmured, leaning into Marius.

While Marius had been with Daniel through the majority of Armand and Daniel's own reunion, Marius shook his head. It wasn't that one was different to the other. Neither was more, or lesser, in terms of navigation.

It was instead a matter of years. Centuries, really. And the fact that this wasn't the first time Armand would have had to face the reality of Marius' death.

Perhaps that should have made him less willing to belief in it this time around. That was Daniel's thought, a whisp of consideration that made Marius realise he'd been broadcasting his own thoughts.

Marius sighed. He knew, of course, that was exactly what Armand had believed. What Rhosh had wanted them all to believe, as he had taken Lestat's close confidants, one by one.

Still, this confirmation from Daniel that it was indeed the nightmarish landscape his Armand had occupied while he'd been gone.

Unconscious. Utterly unable to reach back to anyone here within this convergence of immortals.

I'm sorry...

Marius truly wasn't doing so well tonight as he had thought he was if he was still broadcasting so much, despite having already been made aware of the fact.

He had grasped Daniel to him immediately upon his return, not even pausing long enough to remove the dark red, velvety robe beforehand. Daniel had been all he'd been able to let himself see, having assessed before that embrace that there was no auburn haired fledgling standing beside him.

Daniel had not been far from his side since that moment. Marius didn't care who watched him now as he found himself reaching for Daniel again now, however.

"I never thought you were gone," Daniel murmured up against his neck as Marius pressed his nose into the crown of Daniel's head and took in the unique scent of this boy.

"Oh?" The corner of Marius' lip lifted. He wondered if Daniel was just speaking the sentiment to alleviate his pain, redirect it for the sake of his resilience before Marius faced Armand. "You alone in all of Auvergne, huh?"

"Sometimes seemed that way."

Marius checked Daniel's rueful expression, and saw there was no levity to his tone, nor in his mind. Only the fact that Daniel himself hadn't been able to bring himself to speak to Armand these past nights; their differing impressions on what remained of Marius far too diverse. Daniel clear eyed in a belief that couldn't be shaken.

His lips parted as he stared down into Daniel's violet eyes. Still so youthful; still with so much more of a story to be told.

Resilience was a thing that kept a blood drinker from succumbing to the years. It was something Daniel already had in large amount. And Marius found himself glad of it. Glad that one of his greatest loves had been able to see past the pain of loss his absence had indicated.

"How could Rhosh destroy one such as you? Really?" Daniel narrowed his eyes as he seemed to peer into Marius, as though he was honestly searching for a weakness Rhosh could have possibly exploited.

Marius gave a small, humourless, chuckle. He wasn't quite sure if Daniel's steady belief could be counted as bordering on foolish. Regardless, Marius was grateful for it. Grateful if the fewer years Daniel had existed in the blood had offered him the ability to belief in seemingly impossible things.

"That immortal had a good couple of millennia on me," he murmured, brushing his lips against Daniel's temple, and craving the connection of blood he knew Daniel would willingly give him. Had willingly given him, many times under a moonlight sky. And would again.

"Enough to understand the value inherent in other Children of the Millennia," Daniel said, adopting Marius' own term. "Especially without Amel in his ear, telling him otherwise."

"Perhaps." This conversation had taken on a dour tone. Because, if it would have been a loss for Marius to have been removed from their kind, it was as much a loss that Rhosh no longer remained. Just as it was with Maharet. Mekare. Khayman. So many of the old ones just... lost.

And, still, Marius knew he had yet to find and speak to Armand this night. It wouldn't wait. That, whatever darkest thoughts had been running rampant through Armand's mind, Marius was still here. It would not be another four centuries until Marius returned to him this time. Marius was sure it would not be another minute.

"I must go," he murmured.

Daniel didn't ask a second time if Marius wanted him to come. Instead, he merely took half a step away, so that Marius' arm fell down between them.

"I'll be with you whenever you call." However it goes, Daniel added, directly into Marius' mind.

#daniel is moonlight to this prompt #while armand is stuck in nightmares #i wish i'd thought of this earlier #it would have been longer otherwise #vc shitpost #marius de romanus #daniel molloy #marius/daniel #de romanus coven events

[wordtotherose]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47869621

Been thinking about the time travel vibes of the trailer and I love me some kisses and emotionally charged moments so here we go! Also heads up it’s largely inspired by the literal two frames of a leak that we got that I spent all day yesterday thinking about so the whole fic is under the read more line today.

It's meant to be a quick goodbye, just like any other they've shared over the last few years. A peck. A chaste press of lips. It isn't meant to be Crowley's fingers gripping the lapels of Aziraphale's jacket so tight he swears he can feel his nails biting into his palms through the fabric. It's not meant to be Aziraphale's hands trembling as they smooth slowly over Crowley's stomach, palms pressed flat as if to push him away at any moment. He could. He will. 

And Crowley will go, has to regardless. Someone has to stay and watch Gabriel. Someone has to find out what the everloving fuck is going on. 

It just scares him. To leave Aziraphale alone with this doe eyed, clueless Gabriel is terrifying. Somehow, he's finding, even more terrifying than if Gabriel knew his own mind and actively was trying to burn Aziraphale to a crisp rather than somewhat awkwardly fussing with the globe across the room as he is now. It scares him enough to refuse to play Aziraphale's game of dithering in order to tempt Crowley to stay longer. He can't. Neither of them can afford to leave this...thing un-investigated.

Aziraphale, theatricalities put on pause, is not even fussing about such overt affection with Gabriel in the room. It's spreading a chill through Crowley's infernal bones that the warmth of Aziraphale's touch, his closeness, his lips isn't able to chase away. 

The hands on his stomach clench as Crowley relaxes his grip on Aziraphale's lapels. Then they push, gently, nervous. Crowley goes. 

They stare at each other for a moment longer. Aziraphale's hand reaches up towards Crowley's cheek and he steps back, spinning on his heels, sunglasses still secure over his eyes as they had been since he'd understood Gabriel wasn't leaving. Gabriel gets to stay. Crowley has to go.

***

There are numerous moments in history, in their history, that, if Crowley were to find himself back in them, he would live differently. Take, for instance, the moment Aziraphale called him 'Nice' in the halls of the old satanic nunnery now paintball centre. 

He'd meant the threat. He'd meant to push Aziraphale against the wall, no harm was done, Crowley would never and Aziraphale scarce seemed able to imagine Crowley bringing him harm so of course the daft angel had gone perfectly willingly. No resistance. Not then. Crowley supposed he should have known then that something had changed.

If he could go back, he pondered now, he would pay more attention to Aziraphale's hands. He'd keep that nattering nun away. See where those hands landed, in the end. Crowley would gentle his hold at the same time as he dropped his forehead to Aziraphale's. More intimidating that way. Close the distance, get in their face, traditional threat tactics. 

Maybe things had changed so much already by then, without Crowley's notice, that maybe Aziraphale's hands would cover his own, fingertips next to fingertips. Touch. Senses overwhelmed. More touch than Crowley had had in years. Maybe, just maybe, Crowley would lean back, just a little, just enough, and tilt his head, and Aziraphale would sigh one of those silent 'at last's. And Crowley would kiss him. Then and there. 

***

The rock thrown through the window was not what Crowley had thought would be his breaking point but one learns about oneself daily yada yada yada and as it turned out, something about breaking glass, specifically the bookshop's windows, had some strong associations with the one other time Crowley had heard the bookshop break and suddenly Crowley was no longer trying to talk down an army of demons outside the front door but racing back into the shop. The wards, newly refreshed and bolstered and sapping his strength still as he lent his life force to protect the shop, let him back in without complaint, rather with an apology for letting the piece of paving stone through. 

He couldn't see Aziraphale.

With extreme dignity, note: none at all, Crowley rounded into the back room at a dizzying speed to find Aziraphale safe and sound, if looking rather put out about the mess on the floor and the hole in his window over his desk. He muttered something Crowley couldn't hear over the rushing of blood in his ears but didn't turn to look at him. 

"Angel," he snapped, harsher than he felt but it worked a charm as Aziraphale turned around at last, "are you alright?"

"Perfectly fine, dear," Aziraphale replied, his tone softening as he took in Crowley's twitching fingers. "Are you?" 

"Ngk," was the best he had in response to that.

Another rock hit the window pane next to the broken one, this time it was brave enough to hold without shattering and Crowley tried not to flinch. Aziraphale's sympathetic expression suggested he'd done a shit job. The angel crossed the distance between them, hands held out in invitation. Crowley ignored them, pulling Aziraphale in closer by a tug on his lapels, Aziraphale went willingly, wrapping his arms round Crowley's waist, under his jacket. 

"I thought we were retired, angel," Crowley hissed, less snakily than he typically hissed but he wasn't exactly in a state of mind to care, too many other things to be caring about.

Aziraphale hummed, thumbs running soothing circles on either side of his spine. "Maybe after this. We could go somewhere else for a bit."

Crowley rolled his eyes behind his glasses. Aziraphale had been saying 'maybe we'll go somewhere else' since armageddin't. The angel pinched his hip for the cheek, he always damnably knew even with the glasses, before leaning up to steal a kiss.

"Better?" 

Crowley glanced around. "Where's the idiot?" 

"Upstairs, why?" 

Crowley's scowl dissipated into a much more reassuring mischievous smirk. "I figure we have about five minutes before that lot outside realise we aren't letting them in." 

"Ah. Well then. Best make use of them before things all go pear shaped."

"My thoughts exactly, Angel."

#good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens season 2 #good omens season two spoilers #good omens spoilers #good omens trailer #good omens 2 trailer #aziraphale #crowley #good omens season 2 leak #good omens leak #i can't think what else to tag it so no one yells at me #aziracrow #azicrow #my writing #fanfic

[1mpulsee]

// have a rant on Bart having a “parent” figure and also just his relationship with Max M.ercury in general . disclaimer some of this is headcanon and also I haven’t read all of their appearances together + my memory is bad so if some stuff is inaccurate my bad but this is the interp im going with regardless bc it feels right to me lols

// when he leaves the 31st century, Bart never really fully acquires a “parent” . like yes, he has Max M.ercury . and don’t get me wrong, Bart loves him like family and looks up to him in more than a mentorship way . Max was one of the few people in the flash family who willingly took him in at any point, and he always treated Bart like his own family . even though they had their moments (some of which I ignore because sometimes comic writers make Max way too fucking mean to Bart for no reason) he arguably has treated him the best out of any of them, believing in him and defending him from other speedsters (cough Wally cough who said that) who don’t always have faith in Bart . they get along really well despite their vast differences, and they’ve come to genuinely respect each other .

// HOWEVER (as far as I know) Bart never really calls Max his father . he’s said multiple times that Max is ‘more than a mentor’, and it’s obvious that they have a close familial bond . pretty much any time Max shows up, Bart immediately and enthusiastically gravitates towards him . in the recent runs, Bart very brashly goes to Timepoint to find Max because he’s missing, even against Wally’s advice . every single time something bad has happened to Max, it has effected Bart deeply . he either goes into a frenzy trying to save him, or when there’s nothing he can do, he’s inconsolably depressed .

// but even with their extremely close familiar bond, I don’t think their relationship is necessarily parental (or at least not exclusively parental). it’s honestly rly complicated to me writing Bart and I think the characters themselves as well . multiple characters have told Max that Bart is “like his son” and Max is “like his father”, but even then neither of these characters seem to refer to each other as such . it might just be because of the age difference and deecee thinks it would be weird for Bart to basically have an elderly adoptive father ?? but calling Max Bart’s “grandfather” or “uncle” don’t exactly feel right either . (the former being kind of loaded, and the latter the term they use for their civilian cover. in their civilian personas, Max is Bart’s biological uncle which is not true obviously)

// while I don’t think Bart (at least in my interpretation) really has a close attachment to the idea of ‘mother’ and ‘father’, or even Meloni / Don in general (just because he’s barely known anything about them and never really interacted with them at all) I think Max is definitely the person he’d consider closest to a parent, even if I don’t think their bond is just that of a parent and child . I don’t think he’s against coming to see someone as his parent, but for Max, it just isn’t as simple as “he’s my father” . Max has always just been ‘Max’ to Bart, and the only consistent term of endearment we really see Max call Bart is ‘my boy’ which definitely seems pretty parental but at the same time he also doesn’t say anything like ‘son’ . Max does have a canon biological daughter - (which was a whole thing in the impulse comics that I don’t wanna get into here this post is long enough lol) and he uses language with her that’s way more straight up parental, so … yeah, Max and Bart’s bond is hard to pinpoint if you ask me and honestly that lines up with these characters lol .

// all this to say while I think Max & Bart do somewhat consider themselves to have a parent & child bond I definitely don’t think that’s exclusively what their relationship is like . if I had to try and describe it I’d say it’s a mix between Parent & Child, Grandfather & Grandchild, and Mentor & Mentee . Bart in the 31st century doesn’t really consider anybody his parent, and honestly isn’t too bothered by that fact most of the time . he’s happy with what he’s got, but sometimes he does feel a sense of longing for a ‘real’ parental relationship .

// tldr neither me nor these two characters fully know or understand what Max & Bart’s relationship is supposed to be but they don’t really care because they love each other like family and would die for each other . I think just saying “yeah Max is his father” would kinda diminish how these two are so different from everyone else around them and just how complicated the two are and their history with each other is . so it will stay somewhat undefined for me & them .

#⁽ ⠀ ⚡️ ⠀ ⁾ ⠀ ⠀ / ⠀ * ⠀ ooc. #⁽ ⠀ ⚡️ ⠀ ⁾ ⠀ ⠀ / ⠀ * ⠀ hcs. #// this post was supposed to be like a paragraph #// don’t rb unless you’re me btw #// I’m normal about them . can you tell #// also this is for his general mainverse obvi there’s muses he comes to consider a parent #// or verses where he has muses as a parent #// so keep that in mind <3

[quick-drawn]

@byanyan asked: ↪ Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship 👫 if you want!! pls also feel free to ignore me since we haven't done much with these two ♡

grey please —

i would never ignore you. so long as you're okay with me taking creative liberty on these — kinda gonna be like, suggestions and sorta, plot based ( in modern verse, because i love it so much ) since we haven't officially established a whole lot, so lmk what you think:

Of course, they meet because Byan tries to slide through the bar doors with a fake ID. I think this is just about as far as we've plotted, so hear me out — I know you've plotted a lot with @chronal-anomaly and so have I, they're each other's best friend in both modern and main...so wouldn't it be hilarious if, after the first few sour encounters between these two, Cassidy and Byan are both sorta forced to put up with each other because of Lena? Even better if neither one of them knew until all three were in the same room one time. I just thought it'd be neat — and would definitely give Cassidy more reason to put up with them rather than just put them out.

I also think it'd be neat if they eventually do end up tolerating each other, maybe not on the same level as Byan and Lena, but maybe to the point where they...at least feel some sense of camaraderie with Cass. They surprisingly have quite a bit in common in this verse — Cassidy would definitely see a good bit of himself in them, and I think that'd definitely trigger a sort of protective instinct within him. He'd feel a need to at least point them in the right direction, considering he never had anyone to do that for him when he was their age.

There was ONE TIME they entered the bar and Cassidy actually willingly served them a drink. It was after hours, as indicated by the locked doors they violently tugged at until they opened, and they seemed to be in a rush to get there — or perhaps just...away from someplace else, Cassidy couldn't really tell which one. But he brings them in regardless, locks the doors behind them, and lets them sit at the bar while he finished closing shop. Cassidy's interrogation techniques failing him, he decides to wordlessly offer up a frozen cocktail — virgin, though he won't disclose that to Byan — to encourage an EXCHANGE, in hopes that they'd loosen up enough to at least tell him what's going on. Just a friendly effort to understand. It's up to Byan if they accept or not.

If you two decide to let me slide my cowboy in between Byan and Lena, considering how close they are to her, and Cassidy's position as part-time bartender, part-time small town secret keeper, I can definitely see Byan confiding in Cass a bit. Maybe some of those things that they really need to get off their chest, but can't work up the nerve to tell Lena — probably particularly before they knew of their connection ( not sure they'd do the same if they knew how close he was to her ). Or even maybe asked for advice a time or two — after Cass opens up a bit and explains how similar their roads were. Obviously all of these, but especially this one, require quite a bit of development to get this point, but yeah I think they could be really neat your honor —

#✯ — [ ʰᵒʳˢᵉˢ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ] ⨯ ooc #✯ — [ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒᶰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᶤᶜᵉ ] ⨯ ask #✯ — [ ᵇᵒˡᵈᶰᵉˢˢ ˢᵗᵃᶰᵈˢ ᵃˡᵒᶰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳᵉᶜᵏ ] ⨯ byanyan #byanyan #yeah these don't really fit the original prompt at all so maybe i'll redo this once we've established more solid ground #BUT YEAH I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS PLEASE HEAR ME OUT — #but also gimme all of your ideas too #i need them. #for science.

[alexkellersgymshorts]

Misguided Revenge - Chapter 2

[Chapter 1][Ao3]

Alejandro Vargas x Rodolfo Parra

Sadistic Omega Rodolfo Parra x Hurt Alpha Alejandro Vargas

Rodolfo Parra did not deserve to be attacked by his best friend. He didn't deserve to have to run away and start an entirely new life in an entirely new country. He doesn't deserve to have to run back into the alpha who attacked him. What does he deserve?

Revenge.

Warnings: ABO, torture, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, manipulation, gore

Rodolfo was terrified of being discharged.

Every time he closed his eyes, he was being reminded of what had happened, and it scared him more than anything else in this entire world. How could he do this to him? Why?? What had Rodolfo done to deserve that??

The nurse came in, an omega. His entire team had been omegas, because that’s what always happened when an omega was attacked like Rodolfo had been. She smiled at him, politely. “Are you ready to go home? Just nod or shake your head, dear, your neck still looks like it’s healing.”

Rodolfo shook his head, wishing he had some way to beg them to let him stay. He so desperately didn’t want to be at risk of… of that monster attacking him, again. 

God, he could still hear his voice in his ear. It had sounded so close, so clear despite the drugs in his body. Why?? Why did he do that?? If he’d wanted his body, Rodolfo would have willingly gave it to him… he didn’t have to… to…

Bile rose in his throat as he remembered exactly what Alejandro had done to him. He’d been drugged and blindfolded before anything else, but he knew Alejandro’s voice. He’d worn scent blockers to, presumably, keep his scent off of Rodolfo’s furniture.

The nurse softened, looking sad. He didn’t want her to look sad, he wanted her to let him stay! “You’ll be safe. Your parents are here to take you home.”

Rodolfo would rather fucking die than have them take him home. They hadn’t visited once while he was in the hospital and he was sure, since his mother adored Alejandro, that they would chalk this up to some big misunderstanding.

The nurse came over to him, gently touched his neck, tsking. “It’s healing nicely, but… wait a few days before you start talking, hmm?”

She checked his back where Rodolfo remembered something long and thin had repeatedly struck against it. Alejandro had wanted to break him into little pieces, he remembered. Rip him to shreds. 

Rodolfo wanted to shred his own skin off.

Finally, she stopped touching him and smiled. “Do you want me to walk you down to the lobby?”

Rodolfo shook his head. No, he could go alone… He had to do everything else, alone. He was so fucking terrified of going home. What if they made him see Alejandro? No, no, no, he couldn’t do that. Regardless, he finally pulled his hoodie on, taking deep breaths. He accepted his phone when it was given to him, looking through it. Oddly enough, no texts from Alejandro.

He was grateful, he didn’t think he could stomach that. 

Huh, there was no texts or calls from Valeria, either. Maybe she was in on it… Regardless, she’d probably defend him, even if she wasn’t. He shook it off as best he could and very reluctantly started out of his hospital room and down the hallway to where he could see the sign for the lobby.

As he approached the door, he slowed to a stop, peeking through the window and seeing his parents were out there. His mother looked… disinterested. His father looked irritated. Of course, neither of them looked worried. He’d been beaten and raped so badly he’d ended up in the hospital, and neither looked like they cared.

Fuck them.

He turned on his heel and went the other direction, ducking down a hallway that said “Children’s ward”. Surely, the children’s ward would have a lobby, as well as an exit, right?

Thankfully, he’d been smart enough to bring his backpack with him, begging the EMT to grab it, so it was on his back. In it was his wallet, since he’d cleared it out for the weekend. He’d go to an ATM and take out every bit of his savings, knowing he had at least a couple grand in there.

Then, he’d go somewhere. Anywhere but here.

Soap.

Soap lived in America, and he was seventeen like Rodolfo. However, due to some bullshit, he was emancipated and lived in his own apartment. Rodolfo had joked about running away a few times, and Soap had joked back about Rodolfo finding him and living with him. He hoped he hadn’t been joking too much about it.

He got out his phone and texted Soap How easy would it be to get to America?

Legally or illegally? He wasn’t shocked by the fast response, Soap was just like that.

What would be fastest?

I have a few friends, let me give one a call.

What should I do in the meantime?

Find a hotel, lay low.

Got it.

Rodolfo took a deep breath. His cell phone could be used to track him, he didn’t want that. So, he went to take the battery out before pausing and seeing Alejandro’s name, pinned to the top of his messages list.

Tears filled his eyes, again, as he was reminded by the betrayal, of exactly just what Alejandro had done to him.

So, he texted him just one thing before he took the battery out and tossed the phone in the trash.

How could you do this to me?

Rodolfo groaned as Soap and Gaz dragged him around the department store, having to listen to their alpha woes. He’d stayed away from all of that, almost desperately fighting to keep it away from him. He wasn’t interested in letting another alpha hurt him like that.

“He was so cute and… I liked him a lot.” Soap lamented, leaning against a jewelry case. “But…” His voice lowered, a little, “there was the problem with his therapist.”

“Was?” Gaz chuckled and Rodolfo tried not to shiver at the dark twinkle that was in his eyes. Sometimes, his best friends scared him. He’d met both of them online in forums about teen omegas with horrible mental health. It… had a shorter name.

Anyway, it had become pretty easy to see, pretty quickly, that both of them had darker tendencies. Rodolfo wasn’t quite sure what he believed them to be but… they hinted to things that gave him a pretty good idea. He was more than positive Soap had killed someone before.

“Was.” Soap confirmed, smiling and touching the glass, appearing to examine the jewelry inside of the case. “Not anymore.”

He’d definitely killed someone.

“Ah.” Gaz answered, shaking his head. “Rudy, what do you think I should get?”

Rodolfo frowned and went to the glass case, looking down at the jewelry inside. “What is it for?” He asked, since he didn’t know what to suggest. His eye was drawn to a butterfly necklace, but… he didn’t know if he’d agree that one was for Gaz.

“Hm… Just to buy.” Gaz answered and then his eye seemed to be caught by a gold anklet, with no charms, just a chain. He asked the lady behind the counter if he could see it and she carefully got it out, handing it over.

Rodolfo watched Gaz admire it, looking it over. “It’s beautiful.” Gaz said, and both Soap and Rodolfo agreed.

“I dunno, Gaz, I think it might make a good earring .” Soap grinned and Rodolfo and Gaz rolled their eyes in sync.

“You’re so dirty minded.” Gaz muttered and Soap just laughed. “You’re gross. Anyway, I think I’ll get it. What were you saying about Ghost?”

“Oh, right.” Soap flushed. “I just… I want him but… I don’t think he wants me. It’s not a big deal, I can move on and find other alphas, but… it would be nice to get his attention.” He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I wish I could help you, but I haven’t even managed to succeed on my front.” Gaz muttered, sounding bitter. Rodolfo couldn’t help but wince. He knew why, since Alex, the alpha that Gaz was romantically interested in, refused to make them official. Rodolfo didn’t really know why, he’d never hung out with them.

Gaz had invited him and Soap to hang out with Alex and a few of his friends, but… they were all alphas. Five of them, to be exact. Five against three weren’t odds that Rodolfo wanted to risk. Soap didn’t really say why, but he’d kept rainchecking, apparently.

Soap shook his head. “I don’t get it. You’re a gorgeous omega, you’re smart, you’re funny…”

“I’m tall, I’m lanky, I’m clumsy.” Gaz seemed to be counting on his fingers. “I’m not pretty like you and Rodolfo. I’m actually rather plain. Besides that, it’s not detriments, it’s what I don’t offer. I don’t want children… I only have an adopted dad, not an entire family… I don’t offer anything valuable. I’m not even really that great in bed. I can’t blow his mind like you can, I… prefer to be taken care of.”

Soap seemed to soften and then he sighed. “Gaz… You do offer a lot. Like I said, you’re gorgeous, and you’re smart. You and Alex can talk for hours on end. And your humor is that perfect, hilarious dry humor that never fails to make anyone laugh. As for practical things… you are weirdly good at budgeting and making grocery lists. None of the three of us have ever ran out of groceries because you keep the apartment very well stocked. And… well, I know what you’re like in bed and… Alex is a simple man with simple wants and you’ll knock it out of the park.”

Gaz narrowed his eyes and Rodolfo decided it might be time to move on from the conversation. “I really like this necklace.” He pointed at the butterfly necklace he’d glanced at, before, and looked at them. “What do you think of it?”

“It’s beautiful.” Soap smiled and nodded. “You should get it.”

“No point.” Rodolfo sighed and shook his head, though he really liked it. “I don’t go outside unless I’m going out with you guys and… even there, I think I’d rather just not waste the money.”

Gaz rolled his eyes and asked the lady to get the necklace out. “I’ll buy it and then, if you end up not wearing it, I’ll take it off your hands.”

Rodolfo knew he couldn’t really argue with them on these things, so he had no plans to really bother but… man, a part of him wanted to. A part of him wanted to fight them on it. Instead, he just nodded and sighed. “Alright, I can accept that.”

Gaz smiled and then he paid for both pieces of jewelry, and ended up paying for everything that everyone else had. Rodolfo wasn’t shocked and, hey, he wasn’t going to complain. Maybe, one day, a long time ago, he might have but his friends had worn him down on that stuff.

However, he did speak up before they started to leave. “I’ve never met Alex, but… I don’t think he’s holding off for lack of want of you… Or, at least, for anything you lack. Alphas… they like to play games.”

He watched their faces grow somber and both nodded. “You think you can trust them and you can’t.” Soap continued for Rodolfo. “You’re right, it’s probably Alex, not Gaz.”

Gaz winced. “Even still, I wish…. I wish he actually wanted me. I feel inadequate.”

Soap touched Gaz’s shoulder. “You’re not inadequate. Alex is just blind and dumb. But, we love you and… there are other alphas.”

Gaz leaned into Soap and then they were rubbing their faces against each other, affectionately. Rodolfo wished he could partake in things like that but… he just felt more lonely when he tried. He felt like he was acting…

The truth was, he hadn’t felt normal since that night, and he doubted he ever would.

He shook his head, turning away. “I think I’m going to head home.” He sighed as they finally fully left the store. 

“Aww…” Soap pouted, coming around to stand in front of Rodolfo. “Can we at least get lunch, please? It’s so hard to get you to go outside and you’re doing so well… Please?”

Rodolfo shook his head. “No, I really don’t want to… I’m tired…” He mumbled, but he was already really giving in. He did say no to a few more of Soap’s pleads, softening and dropping his shoulders as Soap put his hands together, appearing to beg. “Alright, fine… Where do you want to get lunch?”

“There’s this artisan pizza place I’ve been wanting to try!” Gaz immediately spoke up, half grinning.

Rodolfo shook his head, affectionately. Even if he felt like he couldn’t take part in their affection, he still loved them. They were his best friends, he’d let them be the first people he’d been intimate with since the attack. Even when they were begging him to be social, he couldn’t help but love them.

He sighed and they finally turned to cross the street, following Gaz’s direction. 

Rodolfo’s body froze before his eyes seemed to have caught on to what had happened. Warm brown eyes staring directly into his own. He couldn’t move, they were headlights on him, he was a doe caught in them. Rodolfo was already braced for impact, tensed and taking deep breaths.

Words from that night came to his head, everything Alejandro had said to him. I’m going to rip you to shreds. You’re going to like it. I hate you so fucking much.

His whole body was trembling. He needed to leave, he needed to go, he needed to run. He’d found him, he was right there. What was Rodolfo going to do? Fuck! He’d been so meticulous about leaving.

Alejandro, himself, appeared frozen as well. Why? Had he not expected his prey to be right there? Had he not expected bruised and bloody meat to lay across the street from him? Nightmares had came of razor sharp teeth ripping deep into Rodolfo’s body and he was so close to that happening right now. 

The headlights were getting closer as Alejandro started to step off of the curb and make his way towards Rodolfo. Rodolfo didn’t really have any option, he couldn’t be a deer, caught and waiting to be a meal again. Again.

So, he turned and fled, the only option he really thought he had, and as he desperately sprinted across the sidewalk, there was only the sound of his pounding footsteps in his ears and a thought in his head, the last text he’d ever sent Alejandro.

How could you do this to me?

Fear never leaves you. It never lessens. You get used to it, you ignore it, until it’s staring you directly in the face and all you can do is run.

#Alejandro Vargas #Rodolfo Parra #Alpha Alejandro Vargas #Omega Rodolfo Parra #Alejandro Vargas x Rodolfo Parra #Alpha Alejandro Vargas x Omega Rodolfo Parra #Omegaverse #Sadistic Rodolfo Parra #Dead Dove Do Not Eat #Bipolar Alejandro Vargas #alejandro cod #rodolfo cod

[careshub]

𝑫𝑬𝑴𝑰𝑮𝑶𝑫

“  love conquers all,  ”     aphrodite promised.     “  look at helen and paris.     did they let anything come between them?  ”     “  didn’t they start the trojan war and get thousands of people killed?  ”     “  pfft.     that’s not the point.     follow your heart!  ”

basics.

parents:     william ‘bill’ forbes (father), elizabeth ‘liz’ forbes (adoptive mother), aphrodite (biological mother)

occupation:     cabin counselor and self-entitled head of event planning

caroline forbes found out the truth about her mother when she was twelve years old.     some would say that’s a little early to tell a child they’re adopted, but bill and liz didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.    caroline loved snooping and it didn’t take long for her to find pictures of her father, arms slung around a pretty blonde that most definitely was not her mom.    well, actually, it was.    her biological mother, that is.

her parents sat her down and proceeded to tell her how bill had met a woman when he was younger.    her name was aphrodite and she was like no other woman he’d ever met.    the two hit it off right away and she quickly fell pregnant.    though bill was nervous at the idea of being a father, he was also excited to experience all that with aphrodite.    his world turned upside down when aphrodite handed him a small pink bundle and said she ‘couldn’t do this’ before leaving without further explanation.    having no idea of what to do, bill turned to his childhood best friend, liz.    he told her everything and, surprisingly, she believed him.    unable to let her friend go through it all on his own, liz offered to help.    together, they raised caroline and liz became her mother.

the news of having a literal goddess for a mother was a total shock to caroline, but she managed to go on with her life.    that is, until she was attacked by a sea serpent while out on a beach trip with her parents, when she was only fifteen.    scared of what might happen to their daughter, liz and bill decided to take her to the one place they knew she’d be safe:    camp half-blood.    being the social butterfly that she’d always been, caroline quickly made friends with other campers and bonded with her siblings.    sure, it was a little weird to know she had siblings that were neither bill’s or liz’s kids, but it was nice knowing other people understood what she was going through.

now, three full years have passed since caroline first stepped into camp, and she’s the current counselor of aphrodite’s cabin, as well as the head of event planning - a task she’d taken over without asking either chiron or mr. d beforehand; but since both of them were happy to not have to deal with that, neither complained -.     she’s well-known around camp, with her warm smiles bright blue eyes, and bubbly personality making it impossible for her to go unnoticed.     well... that, and the fact she is aphrodite’s daughter.

abilities.

amokineses     —     as a daughter of aphrodite, caroline has a level of control over the emotions of love, lust etc, but on a much smaller scale than her mother.

charmspeak     —     caroline’s voice has a mesmerizing effect, capable of influencing the emotions of others or of placing them in her thrall. 

beauty / shapeshifting     —     regardless of how she looks and what she wears, caroline is able to radiate beauty.     which sometimes prevents enemies from willingly attacking her, even as she charges them head-on.     she is also able to change her appearance at will, though she tends not to do that frequently.

infallible vision acuity     —     caroline possesses a level of microscopic vision and is able to see flaws in things that other people cannot.

french fluency     —     as a child of aphrodite, caroline is able to speak french fluently, due to it being the language of love.

#verses. #demigod.

[amorelray]

✨RECENT ANIME REVIEW✨

⚔NORAGAMI⚔

| don't actually feel like I have an incredible amount to say about Noragami, but it is the most recent anime that I've finished. So, I figured that I'd give a review on it next!

Season 1 unfortunately wasn't my favorite, but I knew that people talked about how good this show was. So I made sure to watch all the way til the end in order to give it a full chance for those who love this show.💙 As I started watching, I was slowly drawn to Yuki first - such a sweet, young kid who really was trying to figure himself out after realizing what he had become. It was an interesting story with his and Yato's relationship - but I enjoyed his development nonetheless. However, the main characters were not what drew me into this show. It was a side character that isn't seen much until season 2.👀

Kazuma was by far my favorite character of this show and the reason why I kept going. ❗SPOILERS AHEAD❗ When we first meet Kazuma🌸, we find out that he's the right-hand man of the woman who is single-handedly (with many regalia) trying to kill Yato.💀 As we get to hear bits and pieces of her story in the beginning, I couldn't help but wonder if she was actually justified. However, Kazuma immediately seems to take interest in Yuki and Yato against Bishimon (his god) and the other regalia under her command. However, never does it feel like he has malicious intent towards his god and neither does it feel like he has any ill intent towards Yato - which was what immediately drew me in. He was a gray character, almost appearing to refuse to stand on either side. Later on, when Yuki nearly befalls as a phantom due to "stinging"🐝 Yato many times, Kazuma is called upon to help in a ritual in order to "cleanse/ bear witness" to Yuki. At first, he appears to think better of it, but he has a kind heart and goes to help regardless. This again spoke to me because he was willingly helping his god's "rival" during a time that he could have just let Yato die.

Needless to say, the second half of Season 2 is my favorite. 🧡 It focuses quite a bit on Bishimon - and thus Kazuma. After episode 1 or 2 of Season 2, 1 found myself crying over & over & over again for these characters😭. I mourned for each of them as I watched so many things slip through their fingers as the god in charge was grasping at sand that she could no longer hold than control. The whole first half/arc of that season was BEYOND what I could have imagined & I've already thought about watching it all over again. Without giving too much away, the things I learned about Kazuma throughout that arc made me fall in love with him so much as a character and I found myself always asking, "when will I see him again?"🌸 He's so much I could have imagined and more than what I would deserve out of a character. Bishimon does not deserve to have someone as pure and loyal as him to be her right-hand man; in fact...! wouldn't imagine that anyone would.

The second half of Season 2 was also significantly better than Season 1, in my opinion. I thoroughly enjoyed it and I LOVED seeing the character development for Yato in that arc. 💙 I had already come to love Kazuma and Yuki at that point, and the end of Season 2 was when I finally started loving Yato for the character that he was as well. I'm a bit sad that it took as long as it did for me to enjoy the main character, but I am very excited to see what comes of him and his newfound destiny.

Overall, I enjoyed the show & would likely watch it again!😊💖

#noragami #review

[maximalttigers]

As promised, I'm showing some profiles of the characters that will be seen in my Super Robot Monkey Team Hyperforce Go! series 'Hunted Butterfly'.

This is Amy, the last member to be created for the main Hyperforce team (Excluding Skyper, he was created after them) and Sparx's biological younger sister. She was created due to Nova feeling left out as the only girl and that Sparx really wanted a sibling of their own after seeing Captain Shuggazoom talk about his own sibling (Personal headcannon of mine). She has a passion for flowers which led her to become a botanist as she helps Gibson with creating new medicines and she is able to warn the team about potentially dangerous plants. In fact Gibson finds her knowledge invaluable and highly respects her because of it, he will state that he considers her a fantastic ally in terms of science even though she admits she's not very good at it. Amy is very much Sparx's opposite but they love each other very much, they got along better than what the Alchemist hoped. Amy has a good relationship with the rest of the team as well.

To explain why she's afraid of Mandarin getting her; The two were very close but Amy was quick to choose the side of good when Mandarin went evil, however Mandarin has been trying to get her to be at his side regardless if it is willingly or not. It is heavily implied that they were romantically interested in each other but they will neither confirm nor deny it as they don't seem to know either. Sparx gets very angry at this idea.

Her design is honestly a headcannon as to what I think Sparx's fur colour would have been if he was born a girl.

In the series, there will be flashbacks to better explain her story.

I will reveal more about her at a later date

#srmthfg #srmthfg hb #Hunted Butterfly #digital art #oc #Sparx #sprx 77

[elinor-taylor]

Rickett

Leddy Rickett was an infant when she moved to the north with her parents. It wouldn't have done for her father to take his wife and young child back to Faretheewell. Remember, these were the days before such things were accepted as ordinary. Before the new ways had been fully ushered in.

Back then, you stayed true to your world, mixed with your own, and you sure as shoot didn't breed outside of your same kind. The north and the west had many shared attributes, that's as maybe. Virtues and magics were not among them.

But love doesn't always follow the rule of Diamond law any more than than wings follow a breeze, and along came Leddy in all her messy, fluttering glory. And, oh how they adored her so. She was the best of each of them in every imaginable way.

Despite this, Boon and Flora Rickett felt the pull of their respective homelands: Boon, to Faretheewell, and Flora, to the floating islands of the north. Different as they'd been raised from one another, neither was meant for such ostracism, however self-imposed it may have been.

In any other place or time, a coin toss might've been enough to decide. The draw of a straw. They'd never willingly go their separate ways, regardless of the consequences, not now they had a child to care for. Had they been around to see all the changes that were to come, they might've considered themselves early pioneers in that respect.

But things were rarely as simple as all that, and certainly not when it came to a choosing of such magnitude. Careful thought had to be given to the future that presented itself in either world. Theirs and Leddy's lives depended on it.

Where to go?

Hummer, Flora was too strong for the woodland life and would never fit within that silhouette of fairyhood. She wasn't a stallholder, a grower, a seamstress, or a maker of tinctures. She was lean and strong, built for long-haul flight, and her lungs were of a higher function having lived a life at altitude, commuting from one rock to another, one island to another, training her entire upbringing.

Even if none of that mattered, she didn't have the born skills of a westerner. What was one to do when surrounded by those who lived each day according to their innate magicalness, if you yourself had none?

Besides, Faretheewell at that time was fiercely protective of their unspoiled lands. So while the natives would likely have tried to welcome her into the fold - they were more open to such things than her northern kin - that would only happen if (a big if) they first let her through the quarantine.

Boon Rickett, however, was a green to the core. To go north would mean either death or weakness, neither of which was desirable in a society that deemed him a homemaker. (It should be noted that the north's idea of a homemaker is that of an axe-wielding, log-lugging, quite literal, home maker - a maker of homes - while with few exceptions the mothers and sisters, nieces and aunts go off to train).

Boon would be expected to pull his weight. A challenging prospect given his lesser woodland wings and his lower stamina in comparison to his northern counterparts. He simply wasn't designed for sustained hovering in the thin air. To not have the facility to rest on a branch now and then? To have to self-propel across vast distances? The thought of it made his back cramp.

By way of compromise, they lived the first few months of Leddy's life on the outskirts of Must, in an unnamed and rundown suburb known to those who were aware of it as the scratt, where folk didn't ask questions, and made it their business not to know yours.

This worked for a while, and the Ricketts kept to themselves. Until changes in policy allowed people to transfer across from the west gate sphere in greater numbers, and the bigguns built upon the native Diamonders' low-level structures with their high shining workplaces and belching smoke towers.

Flora would whisper to Leddy bedtime stories about strings of unclaimed rocky islands at the end of the world, in the far archipelagos of the north, on which they could land and settle and make a place of their own.

She said some of these islands even had freshwater springs, which fed the green that she knew Boon pined for in his sleep. If they could make it that far, if they could be left to prosper and not dragged into conflicts not of their making, might it be worth a shot?

But of course Boon would have to suppress his gifts. Dead giveaway, those.

For the longest time, it felt an unattainable dream. So, the Ricketts tolerated the steady increase in the biggun population. They were far enough from Must that they rarely came into contact with the people anyway. Waste from the discharging stacks was another matter, but even that wasn't what eventually drove them out.

When the southern creepers first began showing their nasty faces, squatting in corners, masked by shadow, casting their eyes about and searching for things of others they could take, Boon and Flora knew time was short.

There weren't many at first, which is how it always goes with these things: creep, creep, creep. Nothing so as you'd notice if you weren't paying attention. The south-gaters hadn't strayed from their own lands since the last recorded moonfall. For them to cross the border into Diamond now meant something was most surely up.

The people had no clue about the relevance of all this. 'Heads up their own fat arses,' Boon said. But then only those who'd lived their lives in Diamond, heard the tales passed on from elder to elder, had the wisdom not to linger south of the capital if those hungry bleeders came wandering.

And as much noise and mess as the bigguns made, they'd been around Diamond mere blinks, comparatively speaking. They weren’t to know.

Little Leddy had just started to find her wings when the words appeared, scratched deep into the wood panels lining the outside of their small home, one grey morning in a small corner of the scratt: DRAFT DODGER CUNT. And: YUM YUM, LITTLE ONE. Claw marks ragged about the edges of the words like twisted frames. Next to that: two dots above a curled line, meant as a smiling face.

Flora wasn't one for crying, but she sobbed that day. Angry, broken tears lurched out of her for hours as Boon held her, and little Leddy napped by the fire. Had it been one of the neighbours, one of the creeping south gate shadows, or someone sent from the north to pass on a message? You defect, you pay, draft dodger. One way or another.

No matter. The impact it had was the same.

Perhaps it was imagined. Perhaps it felt worse than it was. Still, Flora feared for her child's safety. By then, it was a matter of when, not if they'd leave. And before season's end, they packed up their things, gathered Leddy's few beloved toys, and headed north.

There were guards posted at the north gate. This was nothing new, and Flora had warned they might need to answer questions on the purpose of their trip, the nature of their relationship, and so on. Boon wondered if they'd overestimated their chances of safe passage, even with a child in tow - she was half hummer, that had to count for something, right?

This argument appeared to hold at least some water, and they were granted entry, but only after Flora was made to sign paperwork regarding her north citizen status and her willingness to rejoin the military if required.

This hardly seemed important at the time. They figured if the hummers were to come looking for them, they'd be long disappeared, ensconced in their island in the furthest archipelago. Firstly, how would they find them? And, secondly, why would they bother?

At last, it looked as if freedom, a life worth living, was within reach for Boon, Flora, and their beautiful, blossoming child.

This wasn't to be, however. No sooner were they in the north skies than a council crew, backed up by a hummer squad, rounded the Ricketts up and took them for processing.

An example needed to be made.

Not that she could remember it, (or if she could remember, that she would ever talk about it), but that was to be the last time Leddy Rickett saw her parents alive.

#amwriting #dark fairytale #writerblr #fiction #storytime #fantasy #midjourney #part 23

[canonicallyginger]

Ive had this headcanon that Kris wanted to be friends with Susie even before chapter 1, and for a bit i couldn't decide if i thought the ARG contradicted that but i don't think it does. When Susie threatened them, their reaction was to be a sassy little shit (it's their M.O., after all). When they replied to her, she was so taken aback by whatever it was they said that she backed off, but Noelle couldn't hear what it was they said. I think whatever it was, it wasn't rude or intentionally detracting from the threat. I think it might have just been something Susie didn't understand, COULDN'T understand. And then they laughed, which isn't surprising given the parallels between them, Chara, and Frisk. Chara laughed in all sorts of tense situations, regardless of whether it was a nervous laugh or not. Kris feels to me like a melding of Chara and Frisk, having Frisk's limited control and Chara's sense of humor. So I do think they wanted to be friends with Susie all along. I think they were scared of her by chapter 1, but not enough that they didn't feel like they would get along if they tried. They clearly didn't dislike her or they probably wouldn't have gone through the door to the dark world (closet) with her so willingly. She didn't want to go in alone, and neither did they, but when she suggested that they go in at the same time, they didn't resist at all.

#deltarune #deltarune arg #deltarune theory #susie deltarune #kris deltarune