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#and that plan would backfire spectacularly

w-artie · 2 years

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no but we actually deserved to know somehow that Arthur as a child was called Wart by other children, we deserved to see Morgana call him that way at least once in the show just to piss him off, as much as how we deserved to see Merlin having a pet owl called Archimedes because of reasons

#i feel so robbed #we also deserved to see two or three knight dressed up as a female questing beast to lure the male one #and that plan would backfire spectacularly #at least we got Morgana as a bog witch #but we just got a show that is afraid to call King Arthur's sword with it's right name #seriously they never call Excalibur with its name is ridiculous #arthur pendragon #merlin bbc #knights of camelot #bbc merlin #artiesays

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nerdpoe · 4 months

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To prove to Jason that Bruce replaced him, Talia hacks a CCTV livefeed of Batman with his new Robin. But she mildly fucked up.

Because it's also got audio, and it's very clearly catching Bruce telling the new Robin that he doesn't need a Robin, and that the kid needs to go the fuck home.

It catches the new Robin do something completely unhinged in response to that, along the lines of solving a case right then and there to prove a point, and then jumping through a window into a gunfight before Bruce has even processed what he said.

"I mean," Jason starts tentatively, looking very Concerned, "At least that's one way to make sure the kid doesn't get himself killed, if he's got a minder."

The plan backfires, spectacularly.

Now Jason is concerned about this new Robin, and keeps filling Damian's head with ideas.

Ideas like Damian needs to force Drake to go to bed, Damian should help Jason make sure Drake eats more, Damian should help Batman hide trackers on Drake, Damian should get an adult if it looks like Drake is about to do something stupid.

Basically, instead of clearing the path for Damian to take the mantle of Robin, Damian is instead being taught to care for Drake like one would a domesticated wild animal.

#dcau #batman #red robin #robin #damian wayne #tim drake #jason todd #talia al ghul #damian comes into the picture with tranqs aimed at tim instead of katana #their relationship is still very antagonistic #but for wildly different reasons now #jason's attack on titans tower was more along the lines of #showing up at the tower with guns loaded with tranqs #sure he broke both of Tim's legs #but it was out of concern #the kid needs to take a vacation while the adults talk #and by talk jason means force bruce to choose between joker and jason #bruce chooses joker #doesn't get to throw the batarang at jason because tim chose that moment to come on the comms #and starts shouting in bruce's ear to give the comm to red hood #bruce flinches and misthrows the batarang #cuts off the jokers ear instead #jason laughs so hard he drops the joker #it's part hysterical laughter and part actual laughter #bruce is trying to give first aid and shouting at jason to STOP LAUGHING #crackfic #crackprompt

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lastflowerofyourhouse · 1 year

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hey can we acknowledge that of all the plans in tlt to spectacularly backfire, possibly none of them backfired so throughly as silas octikiseron's plan to divide harrow and gideon in gtn? like, fundamentally, his idea was pretty sound. "the cavalier of the ninth was an indentured servant who hated her adept, the cavalier was the only survivor of a genocide that she doesn't know about, and the adept may or may not have attempted to murder her. they seem to be building trust and respect for each other, but surely if i told the cavalier about this i could get her on side. even if she won't turn over her keys willingly afterwards, she will never trust her adept again."

very logical, right?

except. that conversation. leads directly into. the pool scene.

can you imagine. can you imagine telling someone all that shit trying to sow mistrust and discord between your enemies. and the next time you see them they're practically joined at the hip and they keep smiling at each other?? the one you talked to comes up and smacks you an the back like "thanks buddy you know we were really struggling to trust each other before but we had a great talk about that stuff you told me and it really cleared the air. we're best friends now and i'm totally gonna make her a lyctor btw."

i would eat glass.

#silas octikiseron #griddlehark #gideon the ninth #the locked tomb #tlt #my post

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shimmeringweeds · 7 months

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To all of us in agony overthinking what CXS's reaction to what LG has done will be (myself included). I remind you of episode 5

Look, Lu Guang knows he messed up. He took a risk not telling Cheng Xiaoshi about the earthquake (all to protect him, keep in mind) and it backfired spectacularly.

Oof. Yeah good question. Getting right to it.

Uh huh. Uh-huh yeah-- wait. Oh. No, he's dead serious about that. During the earthquake Lu Guang reminds Cheng Xiaoshi specifically of their present time. He warns that changing the node of death in the photo would affect THEM. He's protecting their present. Anyway moving on.

Cheng Xiaoshi did very much punch that handsome face in light of "betrayal." Like, this isn't a hypothetical. The initial fallout between them will be immense. And I really don't think just one punch is going to be enough for Lu Guang's actions... but were not here for the initial fallout. We're not here for a present, heated, moment. We're here for the future.

So now every time Lu Guang says "fool," what I hear is "I love you". (Thanks for that episode s2e12.)

But also. Is Lu Guang talking about himself here too?

"Don't question the future, because the future will definitely change because of us."

I don't know. I've kind of started seeing Lu Guang as going through phases. Phases where he is 100% stuck in the past. Keeping it the same, untouched. Phases where he is living in the present, relishing every moment he has. Phases where he is looking to a future. No, not just looking, but desperately fighting for that future where they all live.

These words are for himself.

Cheng Xiaoshi comes off as impulsive because he's got a big heart, but he is a thinker. He has had so much time, alone, to think. He thinks about his parents being caught in the earthquake, alone in an empty house. He takes days to think about Lu Guang words here, before forgiving him and offering that naive trust again. In Xu Shanshan's case, he shut himself in the darkroom all afternoon to think and plan, alone.

I don't see a future where Cheng Xiaoshi lets Lu Guang go. I see a future where Cheng Xiaoshi THINKS and thinks until he understands, and understands enough to finds a future for them both.

But first, they really need to have an honest-to-god talk. (And maybe a good punch.)

#时光代理人 #link click #link click spoilers #please I want to see everyone's posts on this topic #my lc theories

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yinyangswings · 4 months

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If Zoro had a Child

So telling the man is probably the most painfully cringy thing you have ever had to do. And what’s worse? Roronoa Zoro does. Not. Get. It.

For the longest time you try to leave hints. Then you bribe Sanji into giving the man baby food.

That backfires spectacularly as that starts a fight between the swordmaster and cook. Finally you just snap and blurt out the fact you are pregnant.

You may as well have destroyed all three of his swords. He just stares. And stares. Finally unable to keep standing there like a fool, you rush out of the room, going to hide.

You don’t know how long you sat in the crows nest before he finds you. He doesn’t say anything for a long while, just sitting next to you, with only the night sky as your witness.

Finally he speaks, asking if you’re sure. When you silently nod, you can almost sense the atmosphere change again.

He doesn't say anything, doesn’t argue. He instead pulls you to him, and you settle against him. He apologizes for his reaction, though it sounds like he’s pulling teeth. You smile slightly. He was never one to apologize, so this was the closest you were going to get to one.

He then makes a remark that he’s not happy that the curly cook knew before him and finally you let out a laugh that echoes in the night sky.

And with that a new chapter starts

The crew are ecstatic when they find out. Luffy may be a bit confused and everything on how it came to be, but doesn’t push it. Chopper immediately begins to plan for your pregnancy, making a list of what food and vitamins they’ll need to get in the future.

Nap time is now cuddle time and he pulls you close, listening to your heartbeat and once the baby is big enough feeling them kick under his hand.

If you thought the man was protective beforehand, think again. You are never far from him and you can always feel his gaze on you and he is like a puppy following you around. A puppy that would slice a person who dared to try anything on you to ribbons. But still a puppy

When you’re getting closer to the due date he seems almost worse. You are getting stir crazy and feeling like a whale.

He makes things worse by trying to include you in everything he does. With training he makes the mistake of suggesting you sit on his back. The extra weight is good stamina training.

He sleeps in the crows nest for a week for that comment

The first day that he feels the baby kick, he just stares at your stomach, before smiling brightly. It’s the fewest smiles that you’ve seen and you cherish it. Usually you find him talking to your belly, talking to the baby, feeling it lightly kick to answer him.

You go in labor during a stop on the island. You know you shouldn’t have left the ship or too far from Copper, but you were getting stir-crazy being stuck on the ship and wanted to see something other than the ship.

But then as you take a step, trying to enjoy the breeze. You feel a cramp and then something wet between your legs. And you both realize you’re about to have this baby. Away from the crew’s doctor.

Zoro picks you up and rushes you back in the direction towards the ship.

The man gets lost…you’re in labor and he somehow wound up in a completely different area than either the ship or the nearby village. You would laugh if you weren’t about to rip his damn head off.

Luck finally takes pity on you as the first house you come across is a retired midwife’s secluded abode. He sets you down on the bed as instructed before promptly kicked out of the room. His arguments about staying with you fall on deaf years and a slammed door to the face.

And so he waits, each time he hears a cry wanting to break down the wall to get to you.

He only freezes when a different cry fills the air and soon there are several echoes. Finally the old woman steps out, wiping at her hands and delivers the news.

Both you and the babies are well.

Zoro is so relieved that for a minute it doesn’t click that the woman said babies. As in plural.

When it does click he freezes just as he had done when you told him you were pregnant all those months ago. Then he hurries inside and goes to the room the crying was coming from.

And he steps inside and just freezes.

Three. Two boys and one girl.

To say that both of you are surprised is an understatement. Neither had expected or prepared for three babies. And yet…

The moment you stare at them, take in their tiny features, you can’t help but fall in love with all three of them. A quick look at Zoro and you can tell he’s feeling the same way. The two of you welcome your children quietly. Not how you had planned it, but when is anything the two of you ever done working out exactly how you and he planned it?

The trip back to the ship is amusing, Zoro refusing to let you walk, so you’re holding your children and he’s carrying you. The look of shock from your crewmates was hilarious.

It is chaos with the triplets on the ship, a never ending adventure. Watching them crawl around the ship is adorable. They usually follow their father around, and watch him train. Their friends tend to tease him that of course he’d wind up with three kids. Three swords=three kids

You later tell him that if he gets you pregnant again, you will slice his junk off with his swords, mark your words. He keeps silent, shrugging.

But he knows you’re serious and is slightly afraid, though he will die before anyone knows that.

He has nap buddies now, and they usually are cuddled up to him. He usually trains with them as his added weight and you get to watch him with the babies as added weight to his back for pushups. He grins as they shriek and giggle. It’s an adorable scene and you cherish those memories.

He wonders if any of the children would be interested in learning how to fight with a sword. Occasionally, when he’s sure you’re not looking, he has them ‘learning’ how to fight with a sword. Nothing major, but it never hurts for them to learn early.

He also makes sure the booze is out of reach of the kids because he doesn’t want to deal with you or Nami if they try any of that at too young of an age.

Forget anyone going after them. They even get close to any of the kids and they will be sliced to ribbons. The King of Hell would drag anyone who goes after his children to the very pits of hell.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece headcanons #rorona zoro #zoro #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #jamfics

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frostbitebakery · 1 year

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filled prompts for @codywansleepbingo :D we got: spooning, deep sleeper, insomnia! nothing particularly to warn for, though this is set sometime in the HEA phase of I Got My Head Checked, the Sithywan AU. Rest of the ficlet and bingo card under the cut!

Soft Sick Underbelly

“Major or long-lasting stress can lead to chronic insomnia.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Obi-Wan mutters to himself.

It has been… a while since sleep turned away from him in such a snit. He’s not unfamiliar with insomnia. For a long time he had been too afraid to sleep, catching naps here and there during his training—

“Abuse,” Cody would correct him.

His unconventional youth.

Sleep was for doomed prey until he was shaped enough into a predator to grab the luxury and take advantage of it. To take and take until the sleep deprivation was a fond, silly memory of the weak.

To sleep soundly, arrogantly, next to an enemy until the blaster was pressed against his forehead like birdsong. Nothing to concern himself with because he was made to be just that good.

Cody, Obi-Wan mourns to think of their first morning, isn’t anything special in that regard. What made him special, and continues to do so, is that Obi-Wan came back into his arms to sleep, to rest, over and over.

With Cody, he could wake up slow and unafraid. How Cody manages the same is a mystery to Obi-Wan still, on some days. Possibly the insomnia talking him into the spiral of fear, hate…

He doesn’t bother to remember what came after hate in Qui-Gon’s little speech. Cody said it was something to do with toasters.

Cody isn’t naïve. Perhaps he’s still lacking a bit of life experience, down to the few years he’s existed and how, but he’s not going into situations without a plan. Admittedly, he had lost his sight for a tiny bit there when Obi-Wan slithered into his life like the snake he was. Nevermind that it all had backfired on Obi-Wan rather spectacularly, the blind spot for himself Obi-Wan had started to cultivate in Cody had turned out to be mutually beneficial.

Obi-Wan snorts to himself and goes back to reading treatments for insomnia in hopes the irony alone will put him to sleep.

The small data pad is balanced on Cody’s upper arm in front of him, angled away so no light shines into Cody’s face. Obi-Wan is nothing but courteous.

Cody is a deep sleeper, here. In their space, their home, with Obi-Wan. Endearing and humbling. Not naïve. Not even with his back, his neck, to Obi-Wan like a lamb.

It’s trust like a soldier shows. Endearing and humbling, indeed.

Obi-Wan desperately wants to hold his hand, suddenly. The urge rising in his chest. The back of his fingers brush over Cody in substitute, careful not to disturb.

Cody wakes up anyway.

Slow for a minute, then all at once with a jaw-breaking yawn. One of his hands flaps over and behind him, and Obi-Wan offers his own. Like Cody knows.

His hand is guided around Cody, cradled into his chest.

“Bad night?” Cody asks in a murmur.

Obi-Wan fits himself closer into Cody’s warmth, not exactly hiding from the world.

Sleepy eyes turn to him. “Still blue.”

He feels his eyes are blue but it’s a relief to have the confirmation. Sometimes he can’t tell the difference, insides feeling breakable and rotten.

Cody shuffles back into him, a barrier between Obi-Wan and everything else that is not in his head only.

The early morning sun shines on the windows, sneaks through the glass, and plays with Cody’s skin. It's mesmerizing. Charming, in its own way.

The tiredness, the pulling at his eyelids and thoughts, is sudden and unwelcome. It’s morning. They should get up. Routine is good for both of them, after everything. A bit of predictability to stabilize them. They still get up to too many fun adventures. They're somewhat the personified headache of the Jedi Order, especially after their vacation. But this is home. Home is where the masks fall.

Cody latches onto more of his arm, lays his cheek into Obi-Wan's palm. “I’m awake now. Do you want to sleep?”

“Keeping watch for me?” Obi-Wan teases and his wrist is kissed.

“If you want.”

He sighs into Cody’s neck. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Never.”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes. Inserts the details into himself, of Cody watching over him like Obi-Wan watches in return. The light behind his eyelids, no suffocating darkness. Cody's stubble scratching over callouses.

Sleep doesn't come immediately. It takes its time. But eventually it's there, welcomes him like Cody's warmth.

#codywan #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #sith!obi wan #sithywan cinematic universe in my head #my art #my fic #the clone wars fanart #the clone wars fanfiction #frostbitebakery art

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1-helluva-hazbin · 9 days

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Growing Pains

Lucifer x Reader

Content warning: fluff, trust building, slow burn, building communication skills, self improvement, fast proofread (please excuse the errors)

Summary: Lucifer's attempt to bond with you, a newer resident of the hotel, spectacularly backfires. Unable to avoid Lucifer, with an impending sinister catalyst, necessitate a resolution forcing you to work through your avoidance tendencies.

Author Notes: This one shot is on the longer side. Let me know if you think I should have made it 2 chapters or if it works as it is. I also wanted to apologize for the day delay! Yesterday did not go as I had planned.

Thank you for all the love and support you choose to give!

Charlie and Vaggie were sitting and talking in the hotel lobby not too far off from you. Vaggie’s one arm, the one you could see, casually draped over the back of the couch. Her thumb stretched from its resting position, lightly caressing her partner as they talked. A minute affection Charlie didn’t seem to notice in her exuberant excitement. One you couldn’t help but focus on, completely ignoring the book you were looking over. You forced your attention back to the book momentarily before Charlie started laughing. The sound ripped your gaze from the pages back over to the loving couple. Charlie’s hand now on Vaggie’s arm.

It made the skin on your arm prickle with goosebumps.

“My, my, my, weren’t you ever taught it’s rude to stare?” The accusation startled you from your fixation and you tilted your head to see Lucifer propped from beside you. One eyebrow skyrocketed nearly to his hairline while the over exaggerated smile on his lips seemed to pull painfully tight on his lips as he attempted to playfully exclaim, “It’s almost like you’re plotting something!”

His quip stung, intentionally or not. You had noticed since arriving his method of interacting with other sinners was usually to tease them about sinner-like things; violence, cannibalism, plotting against other people, their drug use. His favorite against you was that you were plotting a scheme, usually against Charlie. Everyone had been slightly wary of you upon your arrival. Charlie had sworn up and down that it would change. That since you always seemed so aloof and standoffish it was just unnerving for some people in the hotel. Including her dad who was trying, in his own way, to connect with all the sinners when he was around. He had a couple thousand years of prejudice to work through but, he was trying!

She had taken to coaching you at every interaction you had with her. Even Vaggie had jumped on board with her encouragement. If one of them said hello and asked how your day was, a simple ‘fine’ wouldn’t suffice. It didn’t encourage bonding! No, you had to elaborate. Tell them what you did that day. Did you learn anything new? What books are you reading? Share with them things about yourself! Ask how their day was. Reference something they previously told you. Have an actual conversation.

As well intended as they were, it was exhausting. Having gone from almost solitary living for the last century or two -between working in a job where you were almost completely unbothered while living with a single roommate whom you could go days without speaking to- this was a complete 180 and utterly tiring. You didn’t uproot your life to make friends. You had come here to work on redeeming yourself. Get into heaven if it was possible. Which Charlie repeatedly told you included being friendlier, kind, thoughtful, and most importantly selfless. Even if you didn’t necessarily care about everything other people had to say, it was important to still allow them space to be themselves without judgment and make sure they felt heard. That is what would help get you into heaven!

You had noticed as time wore on, begrudgingly so, the tactics she had you practicing had been working. Several of the newer residents had loosened up around you and started conversing with you on a somewhat regular basis. During some of the group exercises where Charlie would tell people to pair up, they had come up to you and suggested you work together. It was just a skill you had let wither that you needed to redevelop. A plant you needed to relocate from shade to sun.

Whatever analogy you needed to tell yourself you did to prevent yourself from giving up. You came here for redemption after all which meant something needed to change and maybe that was part of it. You wouldn’t have been cast to hell if you had gotten things right.

So as Lucifer loitered beside you, you tried to keep in mind you needed to be better and that this was his way of connecting like Charlie had said. Regardless of how it stung hearing it time and time again. This was just practice. More draining practice. “I’m not plotting anything sir.” you said, closing the book in your hands before setting it down to make sure he knew he had your attention. Now what though?

You wracked your mind for what to say next. Charlie said to be honest with people. How do you explain to him why exactly you were staring? That you had started craving physical touch again since coming here. That after having gone years without brushing against anything other than the books you worked with, that having Charlie clasp your hands when she was excited or Angel throwing an completely unwarranted arm over your shoulders when he wanted to use you as a prop for his dramatics, those simple actions had suddenly rekindled your human, well sinner, desire for contact. How pathetic would that make you look? How weak? Then to have been caught fixated on them, desperate to live vicariously momentarily.

“I was just…” you drawled. The idea of telling the truth set your face ablaze in embarrassment. You couldn’t bring yourself to say the truth. You looked over at the couple settling on your answer. “...admiring their relationship.”

He openly laughed, playing along with his original story, “Mmmmhm. If you say so~~.”

A combination of frustration and disappointment washed over you. Completely incinerating any trace of the embarrassment you have felt over the real reason why you had been staring. Hearing him happily hum as he sauntered over to Charlie not believing an ounce of what you said regardless of your lack of ill will towards the princess. If he was only joking, why was it the same barb over and over? Why were you the one he continuously chose to make that specific joke with? It really didn’t feel like a joke anymore.

You looked down at your book trying and failing to speedily process your emotions. You heaved yourself up turning to leave. Not wanting to exist in other people’s presence anymore. Too emotionally taxed.

Wrapped up in your own feelings and thoughts you missed Lucifer glancing back at you. You missed the jarred skip of his step as he caught sight of the haggard expression during your momentary unmasking. You missed the fact he stopped walking all together as you slipped from the room.

You quickly found shelter in the sanctity of your room. Recharging the rest of the evening cocooned in the fuzziest blankets you had, that you made sure always smelled of orange and cinnamon, buried in the book you had just gotten. As the evening slipped into night though, you slipped from your room and made your way down the hall needing a small break from the confines of your quarters before heading to sleep. Because despite your exhaustion, you enjoyed a little fresh air before bed.

Living on the second to top floor had its downsides; like being closer to Alastor’s studio or hiking up the seemingly endless number of stairs. You personally felt it had more perks though. One of the best upsides being a small balcony with a cafe styled table and chairs. Later in the evening when a good number of the residents had either retired to their room for the evening or were still out partying, there was a blissful window of time where there was little risk of running into some else. So you would make your way to the balcony and sit looking out over the city.

Disconnected but present.

You pulled one of the chairs next to the railing so the back of the seat was at a 90 degree angle to the railing. Plopping yourself down, you perched yourself in the seat with both feet up. One arm rested on the railing so as you leaned forward, your belly pressing into your legs, your chin and cheek resting on your arm rather than the cool metal. A few adjustments here and there quickly remedied any qualms your body had with the positioning and finally you were nestled in. The final signal of settling a small decompressing huff.

The usual sights and sounds greeted you. Your eyes scanning for any changes or immediate drama to observe from your box seat above the masses. Angel Dust and Husk walking away from the hotel caught your eye. Angel talking with his whole body as Husk just shook his head in amusement. Angel suddenly buckled over laughing before reaching out to place a hand on Husk’s shoulder to steady himself.

The skin on your shoulder prickled and you involuntarily shiver. You look away from them too little too late. The ache for contact instantaneously tearing at you from the inside. The arm wrapped around yourself tightened in a futile attempt to ease the ache, already knowing from experience it wouldn’t work. You buried your face in your arms contemplating just going back to your room to lose yourself in the book that had occupied your warring mind earlier.

A click sounded from behind you making your head shoot up to see a bashful appearing Lucifer holding the door open. He gave a lopsided grin, gingerly pointing to the second seat, “Do you… mind if I join you?”

You blinked a couple of times, staring at him. Immediately wary of his presence. The lingering silence dragged on, making him shuffle anxiously before you gave permission with a curt nod. You directed your attention back out towards the city despite being hyper aware of him.

A quivering laugh slipped from his lips as he stepped out a little too close for your liking, admittedly the size of the balcony was intended to be intimate, and closed the door behind him as he sat down in the seat across from you. He immediately stretched out, slipping his legs through the railings, putting one elbow on the table between the two of you. “Not a bad view from up here. If you ignore most of the gun shots and ‘fuck you’s’ it can be pretty enjoyable.” He shot a sideways glance over to feel out your reaction at his attempted small talk.

“Yeah it is.”

The city sounds echoed between the two of you. Distant conversations filling the void that the two beings right there were unable, or unwilling, to fill. He nervously laughed, his fingers drumming on the table. You looked over to him this time. Seeing his eyes flittering from object to object unable to choose 1 thing to look at.

Quickly, his drumming fingers started to grate against your already worn nerves and tired mind. Unable to bare whatever this was any further, you attempted to excuse yourself as you started to stand. “It’s late. I’m heading to-”

“No! Wait! Wait!” he sat up from his faux relaxed pose holding out both hands. “Just… hold on.” he breathed out yet another quivering laugh, the panic shining brightly in his eyes as you bore into him with yours.

He took a deep breath. He looked away, mentally giving himself a small pep talk before he looked back. “I wanted to talk. About earlier.”

“I’m tired….” you admit as you stood there looking down at him. His nervous grin and hopeful eyes making your resolve to run buckle. “What about earlier?” you ask, easing back into your seat placing both hands of your clasped on the table.

“Thank you.” he said before beginning to explain. “When you were leaving the lobby,” he specified, making a circle motion with one of his hands, “you looked, well, upset.”

“I looked upset.” you repeated.

He slowly nodded. His next words said slowly and carefully, “I was… wondering if it was something I did? Or said?” he paused before further clarifying, “I wanted you to tell me why.”

You scoffed. Perhaps it was the unroofing of a metaphorical wound his joke had made. Perhaps because you were tired. It could have also been a combination or something completely unrelated. Regardless, you were unable to hold back the venomous sarcasm that slipped from you, “Well I can’t imagine why.” Lucifer’s eyes widened, the reaction only egging you on. “It’s like constantly being judged for something you didn’t and wouldn’t do isn’t upsetting.”

Lucifer stared blankly, “What?”

“Oh you’re plotting against Charlie I see?” your voice lowered in a pathetic attempt to mimic the king. “How many times did you think you’d get away with making the same joke before I realized you clearly meant it? That you’re genuinely suspicious I’m out to hurt Charlie?”

“I didn’t-”

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not out to get her? I like Charlie! She’s kind! She’s thoughtful! Yeah she’s irritatingly persistent but, she needs to be.”

You had started to dig your nails into your own clasped hands in your flurry of emotions unable to reign them in. You took a breath, realizing you needed to step away from this conversation. You stood up just as Lucifer found his voice. “I never meant for it to be an accusation. It was meant to be a joke.” You felt your emotions spike again, your jaw clenching, as he continued, “I saw you staring at them an-”

“Because I’m TOUCH STARVED!” the words were out of your mouth before you could consider what you were saying, “I saw them giving one another affection and was just so envious! I just stared! I didn’t mean to, I-” You glanced up to him to find a look of confusion, twisting with what you interpreted as disgust, on Lucifer’s face that made your train of thought grind to a halt to reevaluate why his expression was so. Your mind finally processing your admission. “I just…” A hand slowly lifted to lightly cover your mouth, your eyes widening.

“What now?” he asked, the confusion deepening in the expression of his face. A raised eyebrow. A lopsided frown. The slight tilt of his head.

Your face started burning, chest tightening. It instantly became hard to breathe. Panic. You were panicking at the vulnerability you had just bared. Anger melded with embarrassment in the midst of your anxiety. You bristled, launching into an unneeded defense. “You know what, I don’t need to fucking explain myself to you.” You turned, throwing the door to the balcony open, practically running back to your room. Anything he might have said behind you drowned out by your panicked thoughts.

A sleepless night followed. Unable to calm your mind, it ran in circles in your head; justification of your outburst, realizing you completely blew it all out of proportion, getting angry that you had allowed such a vulnerability to air so freely, fear of what Lucifer might do with the information or who he might tell, embarrassment at being so weak, anger at the conversation having happened, before feeling defensive again to repeating the looping train of thought. As the day’s light started to breach the veil of night, only then did you finally slip into unconsciousness utterly spent.

The next few days were spent dodging Lucifer which was relatively easy since you were simultaneously also attempting to fix your wrecked sleep schedule. When you were going to sessions though, you did your best to preemptively vacate any areas when you heard Lucifer approaching or avoided areas you knew he would be in. The change in behavior had mostly been easy to truthfully explain to Charlie as well when you boiled down the scenario into the simplest of terms. You had gotten upset about something and had ended up not sleeping well. While she of course wanted to know the whole situation to help you navigate it in any way she could, she was respectful, admittedly a little pouty, when you said it was something you weren’t ready to talk about. Not having to lie to her made you feel a little better since you missed quite a few of her group exercises.

While many of the residents didn’t care or hadn’t found the change to be too out of place, when paired with your explanation, it didn’t slip the careful eye of Alastor. The first day it had seemed to catch his attention but, by the second day he had taken a keen interest in your antics. When you would try to slip out before Lucifer would come into a room, he would stop you to talk about your participation in the session. Once he told you Charlie wanted to speak with you and then took you into a room where Lucifer and Charlie were talking, only for him to have misheard Charlie’s request. While he framed his actions as innocent and well intended, you had never seen the grin on Alastor’s face as wide as it was. It was unnerving.

By the fourth day, you weren’t just paranoid about running into Lucifer. Alastor’s newest hobby had seemed to become tormenting you and his questions and conversations had become probing. Feeling out cracks in your story. At one point he had even told you he was all ears for any issues you might have with other residents or guests.

Having lived through his rise to power, you knew there was no good to come from exposing yourself to such a machiavellian individual. You wouldn’t put it past him to worm a deal out of anyone, even as lowly you. An expendable pawn was still a piece to play and he was one to look at the bigger picture.

At that point, you garnered enough gumption to face Lucifer. You couldn’t risk getting caught under Alastor’s thumb and the idea of him knowing you were touch starved and how that could be held against you igniting a spike of anxiety. You knew Lucifer and Alastor were not on good terms but, the idea of word getting to Alastor was distressing. You loathed the idea of facing Lucifer but you needed to ensure your blunder remained under wraps. This was for self preservation at this point.

Towards the end of the day, you sequestered yourself to your room to prepare; plan key points you wanted to discuss, how you wanted to phrase things, etc. You knew you couldn't lose your head again, considering how the prior incend had led to the current circumstances. After an hour or so though, you felt ready.

You made your way to the top floor, taking extra precautions to avoid running into Alastor potentially heading to his studio. Once certain Alastor was not loitering about or following you, you made your way down the hallway towards Lucifer's room. You focused on your breathing as you trekked the hall. Attempting to quell your anxiety and slow your racing heart, to no avail. By the time you reached his door, your pulse was thrumming in your ears and you were certain he would be able to hear it too.

You stood before his door paralyzed. Both hands clenched at your side. Unable to stop the tremble that plagued them. Your eyes locked onto the perfect white presetine door as if trying to bore holes through it. Your breathing uneven. All the words you had practiced having evaporated from your head as you made your way there.

This was a mistake.

You pivot. Hurriedly, retreating.

Halfway back towards the stairs your eyes register Alastor's studio door and the terror that drove you to the point resurface. You halted. Your hands flew to your head in a silent temper tantrum as your mind raced to determine what would be the lesser evil. A sense of urgency gnawing at you considering you were standing dead center in the hallway of a barren floor.

What was worse; not knowing if Lucifer might reveal what you had said, accidentally or intentionally, with everyone including Alastor potentially finding out or turning around and confronting Lucifer?

The first concern was all just a possibility though wasn't it? There was no guarantee that it would happen. Talking to Lucifer wouldn't guarantee that he wouldn't spill your secret either. You let out a soft, maniacal sounding laugh as you took a step forward only to stop again. A possibility that would weigh on you for weeks to months leading to you lurking around the hotel, as you had been, haunting the place. Harrowed by the uncertainty at every turn.

"FFFUuuuucccckkk..." you groaned softly. Your palms sliding down your forehead pressing into your eyes. You needed to confront Lucifer. The realization making your stomach churn. You couldn't continue dodging him and you couldn't outrun the fear. You turned resting your back against the wall, your hands on your knees as you bent over mentally recollecting yourself. You went through what you had gone over before in your room. Reminding yourself of the key points.

You sighed and brought your palms to your eyes again. Slowly breathed out. Pulling your hands from your eyes, you launched off the wall propelling you back towards Lucifer's room. The momentum only lasting a few steps before freezing again.

"Heeeey, as entertaining as this pantomiming is, and it's a great performance, I would appreciate getting access to my room sometime tonight."

Your face blanched as a shiver slipped down your spine. You slowly turned to see Lucifer standing behind you. Both hands perched on the apple of his cane and a practiced smile on his lips. One eyebrow raised, almost lost beneath the rim of his hat, as he watched you tentatively turn towards him.

Instantly you straightened yourself and stepped aside. "Good evening." your voice was dry and hoarse.

"Yup. Good evening." he chirped back, unmoving. Your eyes were locked onto a spot on the floor, your mind utterly blank. As the seconds drew on, his smile tensed as he nervously waited for you to do...something? His fingers drummed on his cane. "Well... if the performance is over I'll be heading to my room. Have a good night!" He looked away awkwardly and started on his way.

A quick glance at his back got the gears in your brain working. What were you doing? He was right there. You were screwing it up. "Wait...wait! Lucifer…" It was soft, but loud enough for him to hear. He slowed and turned looking back.

"I..." Your eyes meeting made you want to run. The idea of having this conversation replusing you. You pushed off the wall and walked over towards him, fighting the urge to flee. "Are you free? I-...I would like to apologize and talk. About the other day?" Your face felt flushed.

Lucifer shuffled and gently smiled which was unnerving. It was a smile you had only ever seen reserved for Charlie and Vaggie. "Don't you think it's rather late? It would be a little unproductive if we had a repeat of last time."

The comment struck a nerve considering it was earlier in the day than when he had approached you. It must have shown on your face as his smile dropped paired with your response. "That's fine. We can talk tomorrow."

"Unless, you're not tired?" he asked, putting his nervous smile back on and laughing anxiously, "We could have a cup of tea this time. Chamomile perhaps?"

You hesitated but, then nodded. "That would be nice."

He nodded, as he started towards his room onto the spin around. "Ah! You're comfortable talking in my room right? I wouldn't want to make an assumption! We could certainly talk on the balcony again if you prefer!"

"Uh, somewhere private is preferred so your room is fine." You respond bluntly, his nervous energy deflating. He nodded once more, his grip on his cane as tight as a vice.

The two of you made your way to his room; him leading with you trailing after. His room was surprisingly clean though you couldn't help but notice a small work area over to the left of the door with two piles of perhaps 50 or so rubber ducks. He had noticed your gaze and eagerly redirected you over towards the windows where he had a little cushioned bench seat perched below. As you settled into the seat, Lucifer got two tea cups ready with a snap of his fingers.

He carried them over to you with practiced care and gingerly handed one off to you before he sat down as well. You took the cup, admiring the beautiful and intricate abstract design on it, before lightly blowing on it and taking a sip.

"Sooooo..." he drawled, having quickly taken a sip from his cup as well, "before you start, there is something I wanted to bring up if that's alright." Your eyes flick to his, his expression a mask utilizing his usual smile. You nod, making sure he saw before he proceeded,"I need you to explain to me what you meant by 'touch staved'."

You gawked at him. You hadn’t heard what you thought you just heard. “What?”

Lucifer blinked before looking a little frantic and blurting out, “I know what it means! Of course I know what it means. I’m the king of hell. I’m not so wildly out of touch that I don’t!” he laughed looking out the window before taking a sip of his tea, “I’ve also heard it can mean different things to different people. So I want to know what it means. To you! I want to know what it means to you.”

He finally looked back to you taking another sip of his tea, already halfway through his small porcelain cup. Meanwhile, you felt like you were short circuiting sitting across from him. Not only had you spent the last few days fretting and dodging the angel, worrying that he would tell people what you said, but now he was asking you to spell it out for him. Was he….messing with you? You studied him before he gave you a toothy grin coyly purred out, “So?”

It didn’t seem like he was messing with you. Something like this was more Angel Dust’s style of teasing. You mimic Lucifer by taking a sip of your tea for a slight delay. You carefully set the teacup down on the windowsill next to you and place your hands in your lap. “I need you to promise me you’ll never tell anyone.”

“And why would I do that?” He asked. He was messing with you now though you were in no mood for it.

You narrowed your eyes at him and stated as matter of factly as you could despite wanting to spit venom defensively, “I’m not untouchable like you. We’re in HELL. Anything and everything can be used against you by the wrong people. I can’t end up having someone use anything I say here against me.”

His facade softened and his smile dropped into a frown. He brought the teacup up to his lips and muttered something into the chamomile. “No one is untouchable…”

You heard him say something but, hadn't been able to make it out so you remained quiet.

“I promise to never tell another soul.” he finally sighed.

“On Charlie’s life?” you asked, knowing he could still share what was said as there was no magic binding him. You needed to know just how serious he was though and Charlie was usually a good indicator. His eyes flashed red and they narrowed at you. You held firm, keeping eye contact and straightening your spine.

“On my life. No reason to bring Charlie into this.” he leaned back, his eyes fading back to their normal golden hue.

You hesitated to accept but relented with a nod. Knowing you had to accept the compromise he offered but, you did feel satisfied that he wouldn’t share what was said. You started thinking about where to begin. As you contemplated, you felt your face heat in embarrassment. He watched, patiently biding his time as he lightly tapped the rim of his teacup with a claw topping it off with more tea.

“For me…” you looked him, locking eyes. The embarrassment clawing through you. The intensity making you panic. Your eyes darted away. Finding a spot on the floor to stare at again so you could think with even a fraction more clarity. “For me it means I… I …miss…touch.”

You glanced up to him, to see the sight raise of an eyebrow. Your mind started churning with worst case scenarios and suddenly your face burned hotter. You looked away again.

“Not sexual!” The words spit out, not wanting any uncomfortable undertones to the conversation. “It’s just… simple touch. Like hugging. Lightly having someone put their hand on my shoulder. Even just bumping into people. Any sort of skin contact makes me want more and afterwards that’s all I want. It takes days for that to calm down and since being here… that’s usually around the time something else happens. It’s a never ending cycle.”

He listened, his face remaining neutral as you spoke and he remained silent for a beat after you finished. You rubbed your arm. Between talking about the topic and your nerves, there was a compulsion to do something with your hands. He broke the silence, “The other day when we had our…falling out, you had been watching Charlie and Vaggie because you saw them touching one another? That is why you mentioned being envious?”

You nodded, closing your eyes as you took a breath in an attempt to calm yourself.

He smiled. His fingers rubbing the edge of his teacup as he gazed into it. He knew those feelings all too well. “That…makes sense.” You open your eyes to look at him, noticing the look on his face. He noticed your movement and looked up to you, giving a lopsided smile.

Lilith had been absent for 7 years.

Your eyes widened at the possibility and dared to pose the question, “You too?”

Lucifer stiffened a moment, took a breath and nodded. “Yes. Even I have those days.”

He took a sip of his tea and looked out the window. You picked yours back up and mimicked his action.

“I’m sorry…” you said after a few minutes of what you felt was relatively comfortable silence. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you the other day. It wasn’t fair. I was tired and already feeling…exposed? Hmm…sensitive is probably a better word…”

“Regardless, I knew I was tired. I should have asked to shelve the conversation once I realized it wasn’t something I couldn’t handle right then and there. I’m also sorry for not actually hearing you out once you started since I didn’t ask to stop. I’d like to try discussing it again if you’re willing.”

You spoke while looking out the window. Seeing him shift his attention to you from your peripherals you keep your eyes trained to elsewhere. After you finished, you turned slightly to look at him from the corner of your eye.

The conversation that followed supplied far better results than the last. He clarified how all of his barbs had been an attempt to be playful since he didn’t know you well but, understood how hearing it over and over had manifested as a passive aggressive accusation on your end. You apologized for having taken it that way and not properly addressed the issue before it started to fester as anger. The compromising being he wouldl stop trying to interact with you in that way with the caveat being if he slipped up or tried something new that you didn’t appreciate, you would address it before resentment could build.

At the end, the both of you sat on the bench sipping the last of your tea looking out at the city. At some point, Lucifer had opened one of the windows. A light caress of warm wind slipped in scattering goosebumps up your arms despite it not being cold and you brought a hand up to rub them, hoping they rescinded quickly.

Lucifer’s eyes slid to the motion. “So how long has it been since you had, I guess, consistent contact with someone?”

You blinked, thinking about it. “A couple decades.”

“Decades?” he gasped out. He realized just how loud he had been and he coughed with a smile to cover up his reaction. “I mean. Decades. That’s… awhile.”

“Yeah, well…” uncertain on if he was genuinely surprised at the length of time or found it underwhelming and was being sarcastic, you weren’t entirely sure what to make of his reaction. “Most sinners don’t bother with libraries. The hellborn who do, don’t want to interact with a sinner and avoided me, opting for one of the other hellborns working. So I got left alone most of the time.”

You shrugged your shoulders and turned your attention back out the window. Thinking about it now, it hadn’t bothered you then. You suppose you might have just been ignoring that downside though. It had always been easy to check yourself out emotionally and just get through what needed to be done. Not contemplating what you wanted or what could be. Only focused on what was.

“Has…” you start and then stop, wondering if you should ask. You glance over to him seeing he hadn’t redirected his attention to you. “How long has it been for you?”

“Consistently?” he asked as he pondered the question he had posed to you. “A decade? Maybe a little longer. Lilith and I…” his eyes roamed down to his ring. “We had more downs than ups well before she left but I still got some affection in between when we had a good stretch.

A sad tone had seeped into his voice. He gently rubbed the ring with his middle finger, a sense of melancholy filling the room. You watched. Never having had an extended relationship with someone before, you couldn't pretend to imagine the feelings that lingered. You took a breath and then scooted over on the bench seat pulling him from his thoughts. You extended an open hand to him. He stared. He hesitated before slowly reaching out, his decision wavering for a split second before he placed his hand in yours.

You gently took hold of his hand and looked back out the window. He was far warmer than you had expected him to be. His skin soft. You sighed softly feeling far less unsettled by the sensation than you had thought, regardless of how intimate the action could be seen. It was mindless for you as your thumb began to lightly caress the back of his hand. Lucifer fidgeted next to you, though he didn’t retract his hand.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat there. The sounds of the city echoing off the walls of his room with hell’s consistent warm breeze enveloping the two of you in wave after wave. Each of you basking in the warmth of the other, no matter how little it was. It wasn’t until you noticed Lucifer starting to nod off that you smiled and squeezed his hand.

His eyes fluttered open to find you looking at him with a bemused smile. The softest you had looked at him to date. “You’re tired.”

“I’m not.” he mumbled, a well timed yawn slipping from his lips. You raised a brow with his response being a ‘tsk’ noise.

You slowly, reluctantly, pull your hand from his before pushing yourself to a stand. A stretch had a few of your joints popping. “Would be an awful idea to fall asleep like that.”

He stood next to you with a noncommittal hum. As you reached for your cup and saucer, a snap of his fingers dispensed of both his and yours. You nod at him before you look over towards the door and then back to him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. That kind of magic is thoughtless to me.” he said, misinterpreting your meaning.

“I meant for talking things over and spending your evening with me.”

He burbled out a laugh. “Oh well don’t mention that either. Literally. Don’t mention this to anyone. I have a reputation to uphold. King of hell and all.” he grinned at you with his characteristic saccharine smile.

“An exchange of secrets then?” You asked, entertaining a little bit of his playfulness.

“Ah, still worried about me spilling the beans?” he asked, walking you to the door. “An exchange then. I won’t share yours if you don’t share mine.”

“Deal.” The response was quick and sharp. He opened the door and you stepped through the threshold, pausing and turning around. “Thank you again. I… enjoyed this. Most of this anyway.”

“My pleasure.” his hand did several circle motions as he performed a mock half bow.

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics. “Goodnight Lucifer.” you say beginning to head off before you add, “Let me know if you would like to do something like this again. A tea time or something. I’ll make sure to keep it drama free.”

He grinned leaning against his door frame. “I’d enjoy that.”

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer x reader #my writing #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #Growing Pains #slow burn #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #fanfiction #fanfic #1-helluva-hazbin #writing

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sapphorror · 3 months

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Short Moderate Length List of Small(ish) Things I Appreciate About The Wettening

Dib being conspicuously absent from the opening pan of the classroom, only to cartoon-teleport into existence at Zim’s desk the second Zim starts expressing mild apprehension at the sight of unfamiliar weather. This kid spends his time just hanging around staring at Zim, waiting for him to show the slightest sign of discomfort, confusion, or unease in order to immediately taunt him about it—and the surrounding chaos, if anything, is just an opportunity to come watch even more closely. We all already knew this, but it still kills me to see it in action.

Also, he’s animated popping up from below, and like… were we meant to interpret this as him just chilling underneath Zim’s desk? No, absolutely not—but is it funny (and, to add to the hilarity, miraculously somehow not completely unbelievable within the context of the show) to imagine that he was? Yes. Yes it is.

Zim confidently walking out into a downpour he has already confirmed to be acidic just because Dib implicitly dared him to—no one’s looking, Dib hasn’t even said anything or made a claim against his humanity, Zim just can’t stand to give Dib the satisfaction of seeing him vulnerable or afraid of something (which backfires pretty spectacularly, since I’m pretty sure ‘writhing on the ground shrieking in indescribable agony’ is a significantly worse look in terms of appearing vulnerable, but all’s well that ends in Victory For Zim, I guess).

Also Zim's little baffled gesture right beforehand like he's silently asking Dib to confirm he's not hallucinating the rain dance (he does not receive an answer)

Gaz presumably seeing Zim sneaking up behind her brother, saying nothing and making no reaction that’ll tip Dib off… only to immediately be made to regret her choices when she gets caught in another splash. Shows her for trusting Zim to be at least a little bit cool about tormenting Dib (honestly, we see her exact fitting justice on Dib at the end of the episode, but I cannot imagine she wasn't still planning to do something equally petty to Zim).

The faucet drip scene and the underlying awareness that this is just what Zim and Dib do to each other during class. Every day. It is, in fact, probably one of the least disruptive forms their constant warfare takes on a routine basis. Suddenly I understand a little bit of why their entire class hates them.

Also Dib’s happy face while he's terrorizing Zim into a shell-shocked stupor is absurdly cute and heartwarming. If I cropped that picture no one would ever guess what he's smiling about. This kid? A sadist? Impossible.

“I don’t even feel good about winning this one,” and it's said with his hands clasped together, practically vibrating with glee, his expression vaguely reminiscent of a teenager in the throes of hormonal infatuation (the hypothetical object in this case not so much being Zim himself as a personified abstraction of Zim’s suffering). If someone hit him with the Return of Keef happy goo in this exact moment, I am completely certain it would kill him. His statement is only true insofar that a more accurate term for his current state of being would probably be euphoric. I take back everything I’ve ever said about Zim being unreasonable in this episode—he was merciful.

Also this face the moment Zim gets up and starts threatening him. Zim still isn't even all that intimidating at the moment, but Dib knows he just fucked up. Maybe he's getting flashbacks to Dark Harvest.

Dib’s ridiculous water balloon device. Seriously. I feel like it gets (reasonably) overshadowed by the sheer absurdity of Zim’s entire operation, but it really is so amazingly stupid and pointless in a way that is… not dissimilar to the ultimate Irken water balloon. Not only is it really not necessary for the task it's meant to accomplish, it's actively detrimental in that it slows Dib down, blatantly telegraphs his attacks, and reduces accuracy by a significant degree. The only actual benefits I can think of would be the exponential increase in force and range and the instant accessibility of a water supply—the former of which is totally unnecessary in this scenario and the latter being possible to accomplish with a much simpler device (or even just… a water tank). To summarize, it is an incredibly impressive feat of both skill and creativity in design that is also completely and utterly useless! Which is just the perfect demonstration of what I mean when I say Dib really does share nearly all of Zim’s flaws, just to a less obviously ridiculous degree—he comes off just calm and clever enough to pass as moderately reasonable at a glance, and in some ways, that makes him more of a potential flight risk than Zim. At least that's a lunatic you see coming.

Irkens are collapsible, apparently

#invader zim #zim #dib #gaz #meta #just a little #my meta #iz posting #zadp #natterings #for the record i am not unaware of the irony in saying zims the lunatic you see coming #when the empire was ultimately surprised by the worst of his crimes enough times over that he was able to commit them all #and even now after impending doom 1 and the trial he is STILL consistently underestimated in the damage he can continue to do #whereas dib has spent his entire life being called crazy by literally everyone he knows (and many he doesnt)#all for ENTIRELY the wrong reasons #but hey #thats exactly the kind of counterintuitive comedy that the iz universe runs on #anyway i may or may not do this for more episodes as i rewatch with my sibling #or honestly just in general #because there is nothing i enjoy more than pointing out tiny details that are entertaining to no one besides me #i've always been especially fond of the wettening though #like literally always dating back to when i was 7 #probably earlier but my memories only go back so far #its very fun seeing how wildly the specifics of how i love this show have drifted over the years #favorite episodes. favorite characters (i mean always gaz on some level but the ones that plague me the most)#but it is sometimes even better to observe the very specific points that have remained constant #if still evolving in complexity

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kimberellaroo · 4 months

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I have a theory on why Crowley might not have told Aziraphale what he experienced in heaven, both during the hellfire execution I S1 and the files he saw about Gabriel and the second coming in S2.

Crowley is protective of Aziraphale, we know that he keeps coming to the rescue and bailing him out of trouble. We also know he's said that Aziraphale is just enough of a bastard to be likeable and we've seen him all gleeful when Aziraphale does something a little bit bad. But I'm pretty certain that his protective streak also extends to protecting Aziraphale's innocence a little from just how bad Heaven is.

Aziraphale has had a long run of either getting off scot-free, getting away with lying to God, and at worst receiving a "sternly worded note", basically just a reprimand. He knows Crowley goes through a lot worse in Hell, but that is hell of course. They're the bad guys. His attempts to protect Crowley are protecting Crowley from hell. Crowley also is very aware that hell are cruel so we can leave that aside for now.

The situation with heaven is more like this:

Imagine you have a group of friends that you trust, you've been close forever, maybe since childhood, practically family. They can be a bit bitchy to outsiders, but you're part of the group. As far as you know, they love you. Then one day while you're not there, your partner hears what these friends actually say about you behind your back and it's horrifically cruel. Things your partner knows will hurt you pretty bad. Your partner has to try to work out how to let you know that these aren't good friends, that you should cut ties with them, without wanting to repeat the hurtful things that could devastate you. Also if you believe your friends more than your partner, if you decided your partner was just trying to drive a wedge between you and your friends or isolate you, there's a risk you fight with your partner and break up about it.

Crowley is this partner. I think that he's trying to say "trust me, heaven is toxic" hoping that Aziraphale trusts him enough to believe it without having to go into detail. Meanwhile Aziraphale doesn't have the context to properly believe how bad it is, and Crowley isn't giving it to him. It's not the best way to go about it, even though Crowley means well.

I also think that as the demon, as the person who has gone through torture and abuse, part of Crowley is determined to carry the burden of this knowledge alone to protect Aziraphale from any of that. He's had practice after all, that means he's tougher right? He may think he's better able to handle it.

Because of all this, while Aziraphale obviously knows heaven punished "him" (body swapped Crowley) after the failed Armageddon, he may believe that heaven treated it like an unpleasant duty that they had to do, because he never saw and wasn't told about how much smug pleasure Gabriel took in doing it, and how he would have encouraged others to humiliate him (Eric the demon in the deleted scene). Did Crowley even tell him that it was meant to be an execution and not a lecture? There was nothing said about it on the park bench afterwards. Aziraphale knows execution was what Hell had planned for Crowley, but as we've already established, Hell is cruel. He may believe that Heaven only smites demons and sometimes humans (because angels don't seem to really understand humans), never their own angels. As far as we've seen, Crowley and Aziraphale have never had a serious talk about how and why Crowley was cast from Heaven, how that took place, who was involved in the casting out. It could be that Crowley has protected him from that info too. It could be that Aziraphale forgets a little that demons were once angels too, or again, thinks it was done as an unpleasant duty.

Of course Crowley's determination not to share the hurtful information backfires spectacularly in a number of ways:

Aziraphale does not have the information and context needed to see the real danger towards himself and treats Crowley like he's overreacting. Crowley hasn't shared the tools that allow Aziraphale to protect himself.

Not knowing all this means that Aziraphale forces Crowley into contact with an abuser, even if it's one with a personality change. That puts a lot more pressure on an already burdened Crowley.

I think that Crowley trying to bear the burden himself starts to weigh on him. His efforts to protect Aziraphale from heaven are unappreciated by Aziraphale because Aziraphale is clueless that he's even doing it. When he finds Aziraphale has been sheltering Gabriel I think part of his reaction is to how ungrateful Aziraphale seems to be, as well as the feeling taken for granted and that Aziraphale doesn't trust him enough that he's gone back to that metaphorical cruel friend. He explodes, and then is exhausted by it all. Aziraphale demanding an apology dance from him and being smug about it makes it worse, but I think he does it to keep the peace because he doesn't want to leave Aziraphale to deal with the threat of Gabriel and Heaven alone.

I know all this kind of makes Aziraphale sound like a bit of jerk while Crowley is all self-sacrificing, but if Aziraphale's jerkier actions are from genuine ignorance and Crowley's self-sacrificing is misguided thinking he knows what's best for Aziraphale, it kind of evens out. Neither of them are seeing what they have as an equal partnership at this point. Both of them are trying to protect the other from the other's ex-employers and think they are right. We've already established that crappy communication skills form the basis for a lot of their problems. It's not healthy at all and there's definitely ways they could deal with it better, but they are both messy flawed people acting according to feelings.

#good omens theories #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #Shitty communication

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amuseoffyre · 6 months

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I got thinking that the most honest and raw details about Ed and Stede's past are revealed in Stede's fever-dream and Badminton hallucination and Ed's coma, when they're confronted by their own subconsciousnesseseses (too many esesesss didn't know when to stop).

I had a pick over some of Ed's dialogue from the Gravy Basket the other day, which was barely even scraping the surface, including his expectation of violence when he's vulnerable, anticipation of hurt/cruelty in a domestic sphere and from a caretaker, desperate need for validation and approval and more.

While rewatching episode 1-4 today, it hit me how much Stede's demonstrate his belief that:

he was and remains nothing more than a disappointment to everyone around him, fit for scorn and derision (covering the parent, spouse and child for his fever dream)

no one would care if he was hurt ("Yeah, congrats")

he was insufficient ("you are such a disappointment")

he was a coward/weak ("He was scared of geese, for god's sake," say the man who shows up holding the goose he forced his son to watch him kill)

his choices, thoughts and fears would be laughed at (All of the above + Nigel)

no one cares about his physical well-being (Standing over him, taunting and laughing while he's in pain)

he was a terrible father by choosing to leave ("They'll never see papa again")

his children would hate him and wouldn't care if he was dead ("scoundrels spare no one")

Messy, emotionally-repressive autistic lad hasn't had anywhere to let out his distress for a long time, because he's never felt safe to do it. Mary says she knew he was unhappy and thought she heard him crying alone and, in a flat monotone, he denied it and said the crying was the wind.

He was conditioned to believe anything he said would be shot down. He wasn't allowed to express opinions and thoughts and his father made damn sure if he did have any, they were scoffed at and ridiculed, whether it was Stede's belief he was fortunate to have comfort and wealth or derision about his belief that he could marry for love. Mary's anger at his ship plan comes in there too, even if her reaction is warranted - he still sees a rejection of him, his ideas and the things he cares about.

It says it all that the only time he really does lose his temper in S1 (not including the meltdowns over things not going to plan) is when Jack is deliberately smashing all his buttons, treating him like his peers and dad used to and then, to rub it in extra hard, pissing on his shoes.

Stede tried to do what he normally did in stressful situations: he was going to go back to the ship so no one would see anything, because Conceal Don't Feel is that man's watchword. He bottles so finely he has an entire wine cellar of Trauma.

Ed catches him before he can leave and Stede's all out of control of his emotions and lets opinions fly and next thing he knows, Karl is dead, the crew are upset and Ed is leaving with Jack. So he learns Do Not Show The Emotions Again and boy, how that spectacularly backfires.

And on that note, watching S2, ohhhhhh there's an eruption coming at some point. He has been pushing it all down, shaking the bottles and stacking them. We've had his flashbacks again. We've had him kill for the first time. We've had him almost lose the love of his life multiple times. He's not dealt with any of that and a storm is a-coming now there's nothing to distract him from it.

Also, in case there's any doubts that his trauma isn't lurking to sneak back up and bite him, look at the man he chose to spend time with after Ed left him when he did something regarded as "man's work": an older man in a bloody leather apron just like his father in the flashbacks.

"You like me for me," he says to that guy, the one who has been reassuring him and validating him and telling him how good and worthwhile he is all day.

Stede "Daddy Issues and Then Some" Bonnet.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd meta #stede bonnet #long post

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queercontrarian · 4 months

Text

obsessed with how the only way amarantha's plan could have worked is if the tamsand murders and revenge happened right before she came to prythian

imagine it happened, say 5-10ish years before amarantha started her mission. that's a short time for fae, right?

all the courts are extremely wary of each other because two ancient high lords and most of their families were just wiped out and no one except rhys and tamlin really knows what happened

there are so many rumors and everyone thinks someone is out to get them

on top of that both the spring court and the night court are not moving, which is a problem because they were kind of the driving forces in prythian. imagine it like if at the height of the cold war both the US and the soviet union imploded at the same moment and all the other countries are now like "well where the fuck does that leave us??"

rhysand isolates his court. he's grieving, he's dealing with the con and illyria, he's too busy with his own stuff to really care about the rest of prythian

half of tamlin's court is deserting, his father's men are leaving the government or they're being kicked out for their allegiance to his father and/or hybern

no one except tamlin likes seeing this because it makes everyone with power very nervous that lords and ladies with power are just getting kicked off their land like that

the other high lords don't trust tamlin because they think he is literally insane for doing what he's doing and also they don't know him because he wasn't who they thought would be high lord

they also don't trust rhysand because he's isolated himself to everyone and is also letting everyone run with the villain era assumptions

the nobles who were kicked out of the spring court seek refuge in hybern and tell the king what's going on over there hoping that he'll help them get back their land

he's like "i'll do you one better" and sends amarantha

she goes to all the high lords and is like "no totally the other courts are really untrustworthy and what happened with spring and night is crazy"

"we would totally never do this to you"

"and also if you wanted to become the new superpower in prythian now that night and spring are out we would totally back you 👀"

and because the high lords are all stupid and power hungry they believe her

and no one listens to tamlin when he voices concerns about amarantha because he only tells them what they already know (the war) and what is long in the past (how she creeped on him when he was a kid) and they already don't like him so who cares what he has to say

rhysand isn't saying anything either way, but everyone knows that he doesn't want to talk about tamlin, even less talk with him or be in the same room

while he's busy with velaris and illyria he kinda leaves the con to keir who immediately invites amarantha because he does not want to lose the night court superpower status by missing out on hybern's support

and rhys thinks he can kinda use amarantha's reputation to craft his own mask as "the evil guy" (which we know ends up backfiring spectacularly)

lucien also just came to the spring court

he's like 100something years old, he's just lost everything and tamlin just saved his life so of course he's young and stupid and very loyal to him and very loud about voicing his opinions about people he and tamlin don't like

also it makes sense that the former emissary would have deserted and instead of putting some guy in the position who might have already worked for his father tamlin just looks at lucien and is like "you know people, right? you need a job?"

and then when the masquerade ball comes around it's literally the first time tamlin and rhys are in the same room since the murders

and half of the reason why rhys doesn't bring the ic is that he doesn't trust amarantha but the other half is he thinks azriel and cassian might actually just try to kill tamlin if they got anywhere near him

so he goes alone

and is immediately distracted when he sees tamlin, and he doesn't pay enough attention to his surroundings, and he can't do this sober and oh my fucking god he underestimated how terrible this was going to be and oops

now they're all cursed

this would also explain how rhys and tamlin haven't gotten very far with changing their courts (tamlin falling back on his father's methods in acomaf and rhysand only having formally forbidden wing clipping and minimal training for females in illyria without any actual measures to back it up). change would be slow if they've only been in power for like, 60ish years (minus the 50 years utm)

#and yk if it was me maybe i wouldn't go to a party that is all about humiliating my friend who stood up for me #even if they just went to make a point #why?? just stay home #timeline stuff #tamsand #acotar #prythian politics and stuff

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sleepimali · 1 year

Photo

Owlbits! 🦉🐰🌺

These are the March 2023 Big Dreamer sticker and print rewards that you can grab over on my Patreon until the month is over 💛 Some lore:

Owlbits are a magical relative of regular owls who have developed an almost supernatural sense of hearing, even compared to their relatives who are known to have the best hearing among non magic beings – they can hear a pin drop as far as fifty kilometres away. The reason for this extremely keen sense of hearing is that they used to be hunted for their incredibly soft and beautiful feathers centuries ago, as well as being sought after pets due to their ability to learn to both speak and understand humanoid languages.

During the war between regular humans and magic folks, magic folks also often tried to catch them to use them as spies, not only to spy on humans, but to spy on their magic folk enemies as well. It was a cruel twist of fate that the very hearing that was supposed to protect the owlbits was what caused them to become even more sought after.

Luckily for them however, they actually make extremely poor spies. You see, they have trouble differentiating sounds from one another in settings they are not used to, which often causes them huge headaches that essentially render them useless.

Moreover, they are incredibly emotional creatures and will cry if you make them do anything bad, to the point their captors considered it annoying. Additionally, most of their spy missions failed miserably because they turned into little agents of chaos that would fly straight into the enemy’s keep and ask them to help them be free or release their captive families from their evil kidnappers. And those said enemies would not waste an opportunity like this.

After all, if the owlbits can hear your enemies from that far away, they can also hear you. You can’t keep a secret from an owlbit once they get over their headaches unless you’re highly proficient in a particular type of magic – but even then, owlbits are known to be able to hear through magic wards.

So, picture this: You’re a lord plotting the downfall of your nemesis when you suddenly hear a loud thump on your window. You got to check it out, and to your surprise you find an incredibly frazzled and panicked little owl with rabbit-like ears. It’s crying.

It yells for you to help save them in a strangely adorable voice. A bad guy kidnapped them and told them to spy on you, but they can’t do it because the surroundings give them a headache.

“Interesting”, you say. “Tell me more.”

The creature cries harder and starts to list the ill deeds and plans of their kidnapper that they learned while they were supposedly in spy training for a many months – long enough to get used to the new environment.

You grin and pet their silly little head. “That must have been very scary”, you say. “Don’t worry, you’re safe now", you say, and then proceed to ask your new friend all the details they know, including the layout of the enemy’s stronghold.

Some time later, when you’re done dealing with your pesky foes, you release the little friend. They thank you, happily chirping that you’re a good person, before promising to come over for dinner occasionally and flying off.

You may not necessarily be a good person, but they don’t need to know that. All you know is you feel in your bones that trying to use this bird for your own potentially nefarious purposes would backfire spectacularly. That, and you can’t stop smiling.

You tell your staff to prepare a feast for next Sunday’s dinner, in case you have guests.

Despite their rather unfortunate past, the owlbits are now thriving. Much like humans, they truly enjoy the beauty of nature and are often seen stargazing on clear nights or basking in the sun on a warm spring day. They also enjoy decorating their nests with flowers and pretty trinkets.

And another fun fact: After learning more about people and society, they started to trade their own feathers and information they’ve acquired in their local area – nothing harmful though, of course.

These little business birds surprisingly do incredibly well.

(As long as you don’t try to make them pay taxes. It’s not that they’re greedy, it’s that they don’t understand accounting and they will cry.)

#ditd lore #fantasy creature #fantasy art #sleepimali #watercolor painting #watercolor art #artists on tumblr #traditional artist #original lore #owls #flowers

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diejager · 1 month

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I HAVE ANOTHER FOUL and slightly cute idea with yan!Horangi and his toxic, clever darling.

Horangi perhaps using some new rookies to keep an eye on his darling, especially if darling's talking to another man.

Darling winning over the rookies platonically and "adopting" them. Horangi can be harsh so I can see darling acting sweet towards the rookies. Also, good communicators make their conversation partner talk about themselves. The rookies ended up getting distracted from keeping an eye on darling and ends up about talking about the things they're passionate about while you smile and nod.

Horangi's plan backfired spectacularly. Not only that he doesn't get any info, he ends up sharing his darling with other people because of his own actions 😭

If he thinks he’s smart, then you’re down right conniving, giving the silver tongued devil himself a run for his money. What he thought would be a full proof plan backfired on him and made the rookie your little gossiper. A pet or inconvenience in his eyes, but a little bird in yours, singing and chirping the best songs to your ears while you enjoy the boiling jealousy in Horangi’s hidden eyes.

Consequences.

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