#drops this here and gives y’all ZERO context

[paper-lilypie]

little something in the works,,

#drops this here and gives y’all ZERO context #those who know *know* #teehee #bowuigi #fanart #bowser #luigi #super mario bros

[wetbloodworm]

doodling bits from a scene i have in my head that requires. some context actually. like a lot of the things i drop here for this verse. hang on i saw a post the other day

part of me feels like i should make yet another sideblog just for these guys so i’m not making y’all look at them all the time when you mostly don’t know what’s going on because it’s all tucked away in my head and also in a private google doc and i’m just vomiting out different tidbits of context at random. but that would make me a coward so instead i’m just forcing through my anxiety lmao besides!! some of you don’t have context for the other non-dreamverse shit i post and i don’t feel the same level of anxiety about that. it’s fine! it’s my blog!! it’s fine!!!

anyway. setup for the scene is basic, asim gets critically injured on a job and they’re either somewhere an ambulance can’t easily reach or one just won’t get there in time. achlys has a potential solution.

context, explanation, and more doodles under the cut b/c this post is getting long

so, important universe context for the rest of the scene:

asim’s necklace is a magic item that protects him from magical/intangible attacks and keeps all his metaphysical bits inside him. it’s like a lock, keeps others out and Himself in. so like supernatural creatures can’t drain him of his energy, or control his mind, or, most relevant to what he encounters on the daily, do any shenanigans to his soul. he was initially given the necklace to protect him from achlys specifically.

somaphors have a limited ability to manipulate their host body, stuff like being able to make aesthetic or other surface changes. it’s how achlys changes their eye color to give themself heterochromia regardless of which body they’re in, and lets them treat some injuries at an accelerated rate. the ability is there for the injury thing tbh, a natural way to protect the host body and keep it functioning longer, the aesthetic stuff is a secondary usage the species kinda figured out and likes to have fun with lol

like 99% of the time, somaphors can only possess bodies that don’t have a soul in them already. it’s almost universally believed that they CAN’T possess occupied bodies, by both humans and somaphors themselves.

at this point in the story, achlys is no longer murderous and they’re both starting to build up some trust with each other. ‘starting’ being the key word here.

SO WITH ALL THAT IN MIND the part of this scene that follows the above comic is achlys grabbing the necklace and starting to take it off asim. which, understandably, makes asim panic, b/c even if achlys has chilled out literally the only reason he knows why they’d need his necklace off is so they can eat him. achlys meanwhile just wants to try to possess asim while his soul is still there but losing its grip since he’s dying so that they can patch up the body as much as they can, hopefully enough to get asim to a doctor.

asim is physically stronger than achlys like this but he is, again, dying, so the struggle doesn’t last too long. which results in one of my favorite things: body-sharing shenanigans

asim isn’t a fan. achlys doesn’t love it much either tbh but yanno. asim lives and that’s what matters. bonus that i didn’t draw, achlys has to drag their now-empty body with them to the doctor so that they can possess it again later once they’re sure asim is fine. has to deal with the hospital staff being Alarmed and Confused when the patient with zero brain activity suddenly wakes up and appears totally fine, which is annoying, but the alternative is emptying + possessing an entirely new body which would be a lot more work and also asim would be mad at them.

one last mental image i have for after this scene is achlys hanging out in asim’s room after they’ve been cleared, making an idle comment about being ready to get out of this place. asim asking if they dislike hospitals, achlys clarifying that no, it’s... okay look. hospitals make them hungry. asim like excuse me, achlys like listen it’s just how we get food! we hang around where people are dying! it’s an association thing for me!! asim saying that god they make it so hard to justify their friendship sometimes when they say fucked up shit like that, achlys like LISTEN I SAVED YOUR LIFE I SHOULD GET A PASS FOR THIS ONE

i lied, one more. asim asking if that means there are other somaphors here now in their incorporeal forms, lurking around the place. achlys like i mean i can’t see them when i’m possessing someone but yeah, 100%, saw like five on the way back to my body. i’d imagine we’ve got an audience for this conversation, it’d be one of the more interesting ones they could listen in on. hello to whoever’s here, by the way. asim DEEPLY UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE IDEA

i feel like this is incomprehensible outside of my own brain but it’s fine these posts are for me anyway

#art tag #asim tag #achlys tag #somaverse tag #(somaverse was previously named dreamverse)

[thesummerstorms]

Rev Recaps Hard Contact (Chapter 17)

CW: series typical violence. discussion of a passage where the author decided to use a common slur against transgender people as an abbreviation of “Trandoshan”, which, what the fuck. 

TL;DR Recap: Hokan freaks because he doesn’t know how the commandos got in & he can’t get through the bulkeads to where Uthan is trapped with them. Atin and Darman get into a brief, intense fight against some Separatist personnel before capturing Uthan. Hokan finally manages to get the bulkheads down, but all that’s left are some of Uthan’s staff.

Beginning Kal Count: 32 Ending Kal Count: 35

Hokan, naturally, doesn’t take well to the fact that Darman and Atin finally breached his supposedly secure facility. In fact, he still has no idea how it happened; however, with the various blast doors down, he can’t get to Uthan or her team to figure it out, much less solve the problem. It’s revealed that the bulkheads were lowered automatically when Darman and Atin cranked up the other security door; it’s a precautionary measure on the computer’s part. What that means is Atin and Darman are cornered with Uthan and the Separatist fighters, at least unless they can escape through their previous tunnel, but Hokan also can’t get it to kill them.

The man also has an ego. 

His new favorite Lt. promises to keep trying to override security to raise the doors. Hokan tries a crowbar, but the gap is only about the size of a piece of paper flimsi, so it doesn’t work and he throws it to the floor and has a momentary fit. He doesn’t have explosives, so he pulls out surprisingly he can’t immediately cut through.

I’m very interested to know what the hell that door is made of, but given the kind of work Uthan is doing, I suppose it makes sense to Jedi-proof your entrance to the best of your ability. Still, it had to be REALLY expensive.

With Hokan otherwise occupied, we cut back to Darman and Atin, who are also not having a fun time, but more because Uthan is armed with a Verpine gun and has a few Separatist officer friends hanging around and their only way out is back out the tunnel into the sewers that they just dug.

CW: Canon usage of a word that is also a slur against transgender people.

There are some great small moments here, but unfortunately this whole POV section is liberally salted with the usage of the word “Trannie” disguised used as a short-form of “Trandoshan”. I barely remember 2004 and I had literally only just turned 10, so I have no idea what kind of prevalence there was to the knowledge that this was, in fact, a slur. 

But even if I wanted to look into that, that a) assume that KT literally ever thought to look into other people’s perspectives as a writer and would have cared or b) ask me to believe that a white English woman with strong conservative isolationist tendencies who writes books with pervasive misogyny and heteronormativity wouldn’t have purposefully slid that in under the radar.

And it really doesn’t matter in the end, because ultimately you still have the book you have. I’m just going to have to settle for minimizing my screencaps for this section because I don’t feel like endlessly repeating the word without need.

Back to plot:

Dar tells Niner that they have Uthan cornered but she has a gun on her. Niner tells her, essentially, to scare her into dropping it because Verpine rifles are fragile. I have no irl knowledge of guns to compare this to. Niner says that if Darman and Atin need help capturing Uthan, that’s probably too bad, because he and Fi will have a hell of a time getting in. Majestic is the only thing currently firing on the surface, but Niner’s hesitant about using the battering ram on the front door when Dar asks. Dar consents to trying to evac Uthan out the drains first, but wants Niner and Fi busting in to be the back up plan.

Oh, Fi. But that disagreement goes nowhere as Atin hears something and he and Darman realize Uthan isn’t alone. Since the only folks on Darman’s side are with Niner, that means that these are Separatist fighters. Darman is generally pissed, and apparently I’ve missed something about a locking door somewhere or misunderstood part of the scene, because we get this line:

Okay. Door opens. No Uthan. Door has Trandoshan thugs. Dar is in close contact range with said thugs.

Darman and the and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

Darman feels like he just hit a brick wall, despite his armor, and only manages to make the first Trandoshan stumble. The second Trandoshan starts to advance on him with a knife, but looks at his armor for a second “bewildered”. Fair.

Lmao. There’s actually kind of a neat fight scene that follows, but I’m not screencapping any of it because word usage. Darman body charges the Trandoshan at ramming speed and tries to stab him in the throat with the vibroknife built into his gauntlet, but the Trandoshan grabs his wrist and is trying to stab Darman at the same time. Darman chooses that moment to wonder, “Hey- are our bodysuits stab proof? I don’t remember.” So since obviously that’s not a great risk to be taking, he uses “bar-brawl tactics that Skirata made sure they all learned” (Kal Count increase to 33) and kicks the Trandoshan in the shin followed by stomping on his instep. That loosens the Trandoshan’s grip enough that Dar can stab him, which he does “over and over, not sure what he was hitting” until the Trandoshan stops screaming. He notes that “Skirata was right. Stabbing someone was a slow way to kill them.” (Kal Count 34.)

He turns around and sees Atin covered in Trandoshan blood, but otherwise okay. Darman is about to explode the door in to get to Uthan, and Atin pulls out the Trandoshan shotgun array blaster.

Darman uses explosive to blow the lock on Uthans door, tosses in some EMP grenades, and they rush in.

“He had become used to Etain’s resilience.” Okay, y’all had to know I wanted to make a note of that. It’s good to have some positives acknowledged occasionally. Darman comms Niner and Fi “whoops” loud enough to hurt his ears. Darman realizes that Atin has killed three more Trandoshans and a lab assistant. There’s some weird shit there about the lab tech not being pretty anymore and Dar wondering if she’s Uthan’s daughter, which honestly makes zero fucking sense, especially since Darman apparently didn’t see her alive. Darman tries to ask how many staff Uthan has, Uthan groggily says something about them murdering her assistant-

and weirdly, Atin seems to be having a tiny moment of doubt now, as he’s staring at the bodies. It’s subtle, since we aren’t in his POV, but I think he’s having the same kid of reaction Dar had earlier in the book:

“Almost to himself”. I don’t know, I could be reading a lot into a tiny phrase where there’s nothing, but ... in the context of discussing how the book handles various characters reacting to killing, it caught my attention. Darman, on the other hand, currently has no fucks left to give.

.... okay. 

Darman asks again about the staff, and:

You know, I could do with out the Kal Count increase (35) but at the same time, I agree with Darman. It’s very, very rich for someone working on biogenic weapons to trot out the “They’re civilians” thing. Darman comms back, gets confirmation from Niner that he doesn’t need to capture Uthan’s staff. They gag and restrain her, Darman literally throws her over his shoulder, and now they have to find their way out of the tunnels with a captive scientist in tow. Darman is worried they’ll get lost.

We cut to Hokan, whose staff is finally getting the doors from their end open, too little too late.

Hurati, again, is the lieutenant Hokan had murder the previous lieutenant because Hokan didn’t like him. But the “whether he wanted to admit it or not, he actually cared what happened to him” line is weirdly funny to me?  Hurati, admittedly, has managed to override all the doors, so all the security bulkheads AND the front door open at once, which is bound to earn him favor. But then we get:

Even the weirdest, most extreme, got-kicked-out-of-Death-Watch-because-they-couldn’t-function Mandalorians have an adoptive instinct. Or rather, that’s how I’m choosing to read this line, because it’s funny to me. 

Hokan finds the rest of Uthan’s team, but can’t confirm whether any virus samples survived, and Uthan is already gone. He seems to be finally waking up to the situation, as we end with this quote:

:)

#Republic Commando #RepComm #Rev Recaps RepComm #Hard Contact #Darman Skirata #Atin Skirata #Ghez Hokan #Qail Ovolot Uthan

[theothersideofhim]

Stan Figures it Out: Part 2 (or, Lets Do The Time Warp Again) (or, Somebody)

It took me WAY too long to get this transcribed but here it is! The continuation of Part 1, and where Stan kind of comes to terms with the feelings he has for Lucifer. Again, this was all over discord so I hope y’all don’t mind it not being in drabble format. 

Notes for additional context: “Fenton” is the name of Stan’s host. (He’s the one who looks like Steven Buscemi~) “Eli” is the name of the Creator God in this universe.

Warnings: Stan and Lucifer’s relationship has been, historically, unhealthy. Like turbulent and violent and abusive, to put in mildly. But lately it’s been calming down???? Kind of. This has been literal years in the making lmao.... They’ve been at a point where “I hate you” meant “I love you” for a little while now. So there’s a bit of a toxic dynamic going on here that I figure I should warn people about. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stan:

[Stan popped into Lucifer's existence, in host and absolutely livid. Eyes actually glowing red as he stalked up and punched him across the jaw without so much as a "How do you do." Didn't give him any time to recover before jumping on him trying to get claws in his face.]

Lucifer:

[Sometimes Stan appeared and this was normal. Just popping into each other's lives with nothing more than a punch in the face for a hello. But it had been a little bit since that happened and maybe he relaxed like two whole fractions. 

 He was almost stunned enough by the punch not to get arms up between scrambling fingers and his PRETTY FACE??? He managed though!!] WHAT CRAWLED INTO YOUR ASS?????? [Swinging a fist into Stan's face back when he could make the swipe.]

Stan:

[The fist hit with a loud smack but didn't seem to deter him any. He kept bearing down on Lucifer till he could get him stuck up against the nearest wall and start kicking him, since the face was being blocked and he didn't have the mental stamina to think beyond hatehatehatehate.] 

I DON'T KNOW. WHAT'S BEEN UP YOURS HUH????? MAYBE THAT FUCKING ASH GUY HUH???? YOU LIKE THAT SHIT??? YOU FUCKING LIKE THAT HUH??????????????????

Lucifer:

[At this point? Glad he's out of host and Duncan's off taking a nap because wow this was a TANTRUM. Also, could manifest two extra hands to help fend some of the worst blows off with. Though some were still going to land and enough of them would take a good bit of strength out of him. 

 And he sure was going to tap a powerful hit or twelve back into Stan at choice locations and times. Not actually getting half a second to really understand what Stan was mad about to try and calm him down. Better to weather the tantrum out.]

Stan:

[Four hands were better than two, and eventually one of those defensive punches was going to clock Stan right in the nose. Breaking it and getting him dazed enough to finally stop. Just dropped to his hands and knees, face dripping blood, catching breath he didn't even really need. Still seeing red and trying not to let ANY OTHER EMOTION creep in there in the aftermath.] 

I HATE YOU. I FUCKING HATE YOU. I WISH I NEVER FUCKING MET YOU.

Lucifer:

[Took that moment to BREATHE. Like two whole breaths with aching ribs. Wiping at his split lip and hunching with back to the wall until he could piece something together about what just happened. Then snorted, winced, and smirked.] You're jealous? [Ash mention+hate=jealousy baby explosion???? He panted a little more.] Everyone hurts everyone in Hell, Stan. You set the system that way.

Stan:

[He raised his fist again to that but only sent it slamming down into the floor. Put enough Force behind that one to crack it.] I'm not FUCKING jealous. I'm not... 

[But he couldn't keep it up. He was already on his knees. He'd already given it all away in more ways than one. Despite his desperate attempts to keep them out, other feelings started crowded in around the anger and turning it different colors. Black instead of red. Sad and empty and reminded of how goddamn lonely he'd been for 99% of his entire life. Bitter.]

Lucifer:

[Lucifer watched him closely for danger--he had to--but sensed the shift soon enough. Decided not to...get snarky. Not pounce the bit of weakness showing. Instead he reached down, after letting Stan stew a little bit, he straightened his clothing out to grasp his arms and draw him back up to his feet. Quiet. Leaning up on toes to not so gently knock his forehead to Stan's and stay there. Okay.]

Stan:

[He deserved exactly zero of the mercy being shown him, but still couldn't appreciate it correctly. Still couldn't think outside of the way his thoughts were swirling. Keeping his eyes shut against the close proximity, keeping his mouth shut for once and that was how you knew it was bad. Finally muttered out through gritted teeth.] This is stupid. It's gone too far.

Lucifer:

[Lucifer didn't like those words. Not one bit. But he knew what they meant. They meant that Stan was scared and genuine and scared because it was genuine. He did not know what to do about that. Or what was spurning the deity on to say it. Even as a frantic small voice in his own mind started to make him brace, physically, against the inevitable. The big toss. Which garbage can came next? There were no more, right? So where did he go this time? 

 His hands slid off of Stan's arms and down to his wrists. Bringing hands up to settle around his neck. Then leaned his forehead away and dropped his own hands away from the other entirely. Maybe if he just...stopped...he wouldn't be tossed. So he closed up and looked down. And didn't say anything.]

Stan:

[He'd probably say something about Ash's taunting being the catalyst but in reality it was him realizing just how deep his feelings ran. He was scared, he was fucking terrified, and just like when he'd tried to cut Lucifer out of his life after nearly eating him in a jealous rage, he found himself standing at a precipice. He could either acknowledge what was happening and accept it.... or try to cut ties again. 

 But cutting ties hadn't worked the last time. They'd still just gravitated back to each other. 

 When he realized what Lucifer was offering it felt like someone reached up from his stomach and grabbed his heart. (Which was strange because he really didn't think he actually had one.)] 

 NO. 

[He snarled and snatched his hands back away like Lucifer's throat was pure fire. Then a second later they were back again, squeezing this time, the unspoken words ringing through Stan's head: if you don't want me then just kill me if you don't want me then just kill me if you don'twantmejustkillme--] 

I CAN'T. OKAY???? I FUCKING.... 

[Stopped just short of squeezing hard enough to crush his windpipe, pressure finally releasing as actual fucking tears gathered in his eyes. That was the worst thing of all. He felt like he was in his own little hell that someone had made just for him. He felt like dying. He was so fucking scared. 

 Fell forward and rested his head on Lucifer's shoulder in defeat. Snuffling a little.] I can'tIcan'tIcan'tIcan't. I couldn't before, you fuck. I couldn't even do it before and it's WORSE now.

Lucifer:

Hck! [The squeeze was good. The squeeze was good. Stan hadn't left. Hadn't thrown him away. Lucifer hadn't conceptualized more than 'then hurt me', but he'd be a liar if he said 'if you don't want me just kill me' wasn't somewhere in the murkiest and blackest parts of the still fractured depths of his psyche. 

He was ready for his hyoid to snap and for his tunnel vision to turn dark in the second before his neck was released and none of that happened. Took a second for enough air to reach his brain to have a constructive thought about Stan's head on his shoulder. 

 No, that wasn't quite right. Not quite the time for it. Stan was supposed to be hurting him. Not on the verge of collapse and tears. He tried to help Stan. By manifesting dagger made from the deity's stolen tooth and plunging it into his side. Growling in his ear. Twisting.] Don't make this difficult. [He hissed. Only a slight crack in his voice. He was trying to turn the clock back. Turn it back or kill Lucifer. He didn't know what else he could do for Stan. Trying to do anything for him.]

Stan:

[What Stan really needed was just what Lucifer had teased him about when they first met. 'I know... You just want comfort...' The words had been a weapon then, poking at some soft place in him, but they had been true. They were true now. He needed to be told is alright to feel this way, it was okay to be a little vulnerable. To be Known and Seen. He needed to feel safe. 

This was a kind of safe. It was the only kind he could see right now and he clung to it, even though Lucifer's words were like a death knell. The pain in his side from his own goddamn tooth, from the tooth that Lucifer had taken as a token and a trophy and a keepsake, only fed into the renewed sense of anger and bitterness. Only rekindled the rage at himself and at Ash and at Lucifer that threatened to eat him up whole, and even though his host body felt like dropping to it's knees he held it up. Forced Fenton to stand even as mouth in his stomach manifested through the human's skin, even as it stretched open and uncoiled it's long tongue to wrap around the hand that stabbed him and yank. 

Gonna pull that arm in up to it's elbow and CHOMP. Still so close he could smell that scent Lucifer always had in his shampoo. Could see the highlights in those gold eyes. Could hear that little minute break in Lucifer's voice but still not understand it's betrayal.]

Lucifer:

[Stan would be safe! He'd be safe! From even Lucifer! It's a feverish thought that flashing through him when his arm is taken off by that mouth. Rending a scream of pain from him. It was not often his lost limbs. The pain blinds him a moment.

The clock moved back. 

Before the tongue had gotten him, he had let go of the knife in a hair split decision. That was his knife. He wasn't losing it. Left it in Stan's side as the arm had been taken from him. The secondary hand snatched the knife out of Stan's side to keep it. Frantic in grip even as he stabbed him again with it. This time with a hard momentum driven push to get him to back up. To get space. 

Other two hands clutching at the stump of his arm. A wild look in his face. What had he done? Did he do the right thing? Was this better or worse? Golden gaze flicking over Stan's face to know--was he still afraid? He would take angry and vengeful and hateful--hate can be a kind of love. Eli and Stan had both taught him that.] It's better. It's better! Safer! [Little shocked delirium making his mouth run.] No one will hurt you! [Oooh, fuck, Stan would hurt him, though. He'd hurt him. But he could take it. He always had. His stare went off Stan and down to the knife in his hand. Slippery and black coated. The Fallen eyed it a little too much like someone with a one bullet gun might. Like he might stick it in his mouth. 

Whole head racing. Anything for Stan. It's an echo of the last day of the civil war. Comes from somewhere in his Heart that just wants to Do Anything for Them. Sadly, it was often the Wrong side.]

Stan:

[The clock ticked backwards with each passing second. Stan had forgotten what Angelic blood tasted like. It always tasted like Eli. It made him want to weep. It made him want more of it. 

The second stab hit somewhere vital in Fenton and he stumbled back a step or two. His face was wracked with anger, with pain. With the kind of surprise that only mortal wounds bring about in a person. But no fear. Not right then. 

Right then he was operating off the same kind of adrenaline and despair fueled mania that Lucifer seemed to be caught in, only barely able to register the meaning of the Fallen's words. They made sense, in a way. They made sense. He couldn't kill Lucifer though. Couldn't kill him but he could hurt him. He could hurt him over and over and he'd just keep coming back for more, he'd come crawling back, begging for more, and Stan would feel nothing while he violated him. 

It wasn't true of course but he believed it for long enough to manifest his pitchfork. Use the space that Lucifer had created between the two of them to skewer the tines of the weapon into Lucifer's chest. Aiming for his heart gem with the middle one.] 

That's right. 

[He was quiet.] 

No one's gonna hurt me ever again.

Lucifer:

[Lucifer, upon seeing the pitchfork driving toward him, had enough damn intelligence to move to one side. Enough to defend himself. As much as his mania wanted to die there's other parts of him that wanted to live. Because Rook. Because his children. Because Raphael. Because Stan. 

He didn't evade it entirely. The tine hit the gem at a glance and a chip came away. Cleaving off the whole from a fissure that had been there from Lucifer's own deliberate actions some centuries ago. 

The memory of it did not gentle the excruciating agony of the separation. It far over shadowed his arm and the  pierce of the other two prongs. 

Dimmed his eyes and he lost his own ability to stand of his own accord. Hanging limply on the pitchfork. Barely keeping hold of the knife in one of his hands. The scream that came out of him was a rare one. He had the advantage of warning when he'd done it to himself. This was sudden and would take more than a moment to recover from. 

Shard still in the meaty parts of his chest. Throbbing to the same beat as the heart gem. Not yet fully far away enough to become more rigid. 

Lucifer couldn't barely breath. Velvety blue blood aplenty on his clothing, his cracked armor under, his copper skin, the ground. The blood pooling on the ground was about all he could see. His head was too heavy to keep upright.

Happy? About it. Stan was safe again. No one would question the deity. Not while Lucifer was painted in that blue blood again. He couldn't muster hate for Stan again, but he could love him like this too. He was sure.]

Stan:

[Sure enough, the thousand and one prying eyes that followed every notable figure in Hell caught every detail. The secret finders, the path makers, the souls who gossiped too much as humans and got Karen from across the street in trouble with her husband. They would spread the news like wildfire and soon everyone would know; Lucifer was as good as dumped. 

They'd had fights before but no one had ever heard of Stan actually going for a killing blow. They'd never seen Prince Lucifer hanging limply from Stan's Fork like a broken rag doll. What few words had been said just solidified the rumor. The entire pit of Hell would be buzzing within hours. 

Stan was safe again. 

Then why the absolute FUCK did he feel like his entire world was falling apart? Why did it hurt so bad to see Lucifer like that, to think he might have actually skewered that gem? He knew, he knew, and he tried to rail against it even then, but despair completely consumed him then. A kind of darkness passed over his mind because Lucifer really did look dead. Close to death. He didn't know oh Eli please help him he didn't know he couldn't think, he could only pull those metal spikes back out of Lucifer's chest and let the body fall to the ground. Blood flowing much quicker and freer now. Royal blue staining everything. It's all he could see. 

His own blood was dripping down his legs at a volume that should have been concerning. It wasn't. He didn't have enough energy to do much about it anyway. That darkness passed down from his eyes to his heart and all the way down to his feet. Those feet decided standing up didn't matter anymore either, and the room was spinning too much and his hands were shaking, so he fell clumsily to the floor beside Lucifer.

Managed to get his head laid down on Lucifer's chest. Wanting to cry but unable to after six thousand years of holding it back. Breath coming out ragged and broken though, and fingers curling into Lucifer's torn shirt. 

Soon there would be lower demons coming in to make sure Stan got an emergency soul or two, enough to keep the host alive anyway. They'd probably realize Lucifer was still alive and bring him one too, since that respect was still afforded him. Even if he wasn't Stan Favorite Pet anymore. If anything Lucifer had just earned a few more honor points of his own, especially from those who were already favorable of him. He was the scorned lover. The underdog. The survivor. 

That would all be for later though. For now the messengers were all running to Tell and Stan was left on his knees again. Whispering the same thing he'd said not too long ago, in the same intimate voice, but broken.] 

I hate you.

Lucifer:

[The other two prongs had punctured his lungs. He was having trouble breathing when they were gone. Much more wet and wheezy. He'd fallen down on his side when the fork was taken away. 

He didn't afford the helpful demons any kindness, but he ate the soul given. He had to. He was damaged on an unusual, in the last few years, scale. 

He didn't say a damn thing until the room was empty. When he felt that it was. Then one of his cleaner hands (aside from his own blood) came up to his chest. And he jammed into flesh. Fishing around with winces and swallowed back sobs. 

The pain was not comparable to the cracking. He found the broken away chunk. Rattling for air as he pressed it into Stan's palm while the man was speaking so quietly to him. Exhausted by then. Soul or no soul to eat.]

Stan:

[He didn't want it. He'd already eaten half of one of Lucifer's arms. He didn't want any other reminders of the fact that they used to-- that they were-- 

That they were. 

He kept it anyway. Usually a sadist through and through, it was one of the most masochistic things he'd done in a long while in a long while. Everything was only made marginally better by the slowly dawning knowledge that Lucifer wasn't going to die. He choked back a couple souls himself, taking no pleasure in them, and got to the point where Fenton wasn't having a mini panic attack in the back of his head. Got to the point where he could finally think a little.] 

I wish I never met you. I wish you never Fell. I wish-- I fucking wish that it could just be okay, but it's not. It can't be. We can't be. Not like that. So it has--it has to be like this I guess. It has to be. I know... I know what you fucking did. And I wish I really did kill you for it because even now you're-- Even fucking now you're the only source of fucking light in this god forsaken place and I-- 

[Voice started breaking again and he curled his hands into fists. The shard poking into his palm and drawing blood and making him squeeze harder. After a moment he lifted his head to Lucifer's. Pressed lips against his forehead. Not to kiss, but to feel them move in an absolutely soundless lip sync to the words that had been Singing brokenly inside him for the longest time and never able to get free of his damn mouth because demons didn't Sing. They had nothing to sing about. But these words were free now, even though they fell into silence and (as far as Stan was concerned) a burned bridge. 

'Thank you. I love you.'

When he stood up again his face had lost all emotion. Drained out of him and into those words. Shard still in his hand as he swayed a little on his feet, and then finally righted himself. Pointing down at Lucifer and saying in a voice that everyone could hear, whether they were listening attentively or not.] Now leave me. The fuck. Alone.

Lucifer:

[Oh, oh boy. Stan thought he understood. Thought he got it. Maybe he got part of it. But that piece in his hand? He was ignoring the fuck out of that, wasn't he. 

Every bit of his glamours dropped. Scars to the wings to the mismatched horns. 

Stan could say all that, but it only bolstered Lucifer in the long run. The Fallen hauled with remaining hands and wings up to his feet. Unsteady and stepping in close to Stan again. A certain glint and fire in his gaze. If a little unfocused for pain and exhaustion.]

No.

Stan:

[He sure was ignoring it. Mixed up between what Should Be and what Had to be and what Might Be Said or Not Said between them. But Lucifer standing up like that... he couldn't ignore that. Couldn't squeeze that in his hand, that strength that love was staring him straight in the face and finally 

FINALLY 

he couldn't run anymore. He thought he'd made his decision about what to do when he'd chomped down on Lucifer's arm. When he'd ran him through and potentially shattered him. But apparently... apparently he hadn't. Because instead of strike Lucifer back down to the floor again, he cast squinted and equally exhausted eyes to either side of them. Extending a little Will to make sure they were still really alone. Bit his lip a little and squeezed his hand again, feeling the shard bite into his flesh a little further as if to say "Uh, duh." 

He closed the distance between them in a swift motion to actually kiss him this time, but with teeth. Sharp teeth in his throat, in a bite that was as vicious and possessive and furious as he'd ever been. A bite that could easily be mistaken as a further attempt to maim Lucifer rather than mark him. That was all the indication he was going to give of his final thoughts on the matter. He loved him. He loved him and he couldn't run from it anymore, and even if they had to fake a few things and even if Lucifer had been ready to literally sacrifice himself and EVEN IF THE MULTIPLE PITS OF HELL HAD TO THINK HE DIDN'T IN ORDER FOR HIM TO FEEL LIKE IT WAS OKAY... 

He did. It was a hateful, angry, spiteful love but it was a love and it was only for Lucifer.]

Lucifer:

[The kiss told him that Stan got it. He got it. Lucifer returned it with anger of his own, but ultimately lacked the strength to keep being vicious and vehement. 

He made a reflexive grab at Stan's shirt, but he was soon on the ground again. In a boneless heap. Not able to even leverage a wing under himself. 

The damage to the heart gem was not inconsiderable to his over all ability to function. Not something he could bounce back from right away.]

Stan:

[Stan went off to nurse his own wounds. The clock that had previously went back a year or two bounced right back to the present with a swiftness that had him nauseous. Already regretting the loss of Lucifer's arm. Tentatively letting himself feel that regret for a moment or two instead of finding something to scream mindlessly into and going back to cut another arm off, just to spite his heart. 

Maybe Lucifer thought that they'd reset things but that wasn't the case at all. Something had been very violently birthed and, from this point on, there was no more turning the clock back.]

Lucifer:

[Maybe, then, Lucifer was under a type of delusion of his own, but he couldn't...curse it. He hadn't been thrown away. (Again.) That was all he could hope for. 

It would take several hours and many souls for him to retreat himself into his Palace. Where he would be resting for a while more. A bath somewhere in the mix. And being glad it was the arm he didn't usually manifest that got chomped on that side. (He felt a little less attractive under his glamour, but there was little to do about it.) ]

#burningfeathersx #long post #discord shenanigans #TL;DR: STAN: WHY THE FUCK AM I IN MY FEELINGS??? WHAT IS THIS??? #LUCIFER: THAT'S LOVE BOY! #STAN: @_@)) #ooc

[presumenothing]

on haibara in the dog lovers kidnapping case: a throughly unscientific review

aka @deductionfreak slapped me with the hatchet so now i’m legally obliged to write the essay. bearing in mind that i’ve never written meta before and that it’s also 1am but now or never so leggo

(for reference, this is file 290-292/ep 233-234)

((also: am reading the raws, so salt this for my probably-flawed comprehension))

[morning eta: mangadex link in case anyone would like to read along]

zeroth of all, context for the case: this directly follows the bus hijacking, about 10+ days later in-universe per conan’s dialogue

ALRIGHT SO can i say first of all that i like how this case starts, bc the mental image of haibara and agasa dropping off the kids (conan included) before going to park is just plain hilarious. have a nice day at school crimefighting y’all

not so fun: haibara half-hiding behind agasa and looking warily around, and that’s before arthur (the dog, not the author) barks not-nicely at them. which at least lets us learn that they both pet a doberman just this morning!! pls tell me this is at least a semi-regular occurrence bc yes it should be.

unfortunately that’s the last of the warm fuzzies we get for a while bc haibara herself proceeds to give one of her chilly monologues. you know the kind. in fact she does it three times this chapter and all aloud within the others’ earshot, which is unusually many? even for her? but we’ll get to that later (probably, i’m not writing an outline for this or anything). anyway, line 1, regarding arthur:

“an odd one out, a dangerous person… in my case… to the contrary, it might actually not be an error…” (仲間外れの危険人物…私の場合…案外勘違いじゃないかもしれないわね…)

which is a similar sentiment to what she expressed in the previous case, i.e. the bus hijacking, that she’s dangerous and Does Not Belong. but just as important is her subsequent action when conan reacts – she brushes it off like she’s joking and absolutely refuses to engage. (uncoincidentally this combination of commenting about a lack of belonging then deflecting happens almost identically in higo’s intro case.) 

somewhat ironically neither her nor conan seem to notice that the db have in fact realised and are plotting away, though their attempts to interest her in picking a gift only begets line 2, this time about doyle (still not the author):

“because if i, like marie, were to vanish with the dew on the guillotine… just like her beloved dog tisby, you too would chase after me and throw yourself into the river seine, wouldn’t you?” (だって私がマリーのように断頭台の露と消えたら…彼女の愛犬だったティスビーみたいに、私の後を追ってセーヌ河に身を投げてくれそうじゃない?)

this time she doesn’t even wait for conan to react before deflecting right off.

both these lines basically neon-light sign that she’s still stuck in the mentality aka cloudy-with-a-chance-of-death fear from that bus hijacking – that she ought to disappear so as not to endanger the rest, and no one should rather miss her. and agasa’s description of her behaviour since essentially confirms it: not wanting to leave the house, not eating properly, apparently not even sleeping well. yes i am in fact crying inside

in return we learn that conan had in fact called to say that the bus passengers’ background checks cleared (probably why he was surprised that she’s still wound up now). also, he’s in fact taking her dire predictions of “the org will murder everyone around me/you if they find out” at least somewhat seriously. unfortunately haibara does not hear this part.

finally after doyle disappears (and haibara does actually participate actively in the following search, which i bet a virtual dollar is more interest in anything than she’s shown for the past ~2 weeks) we get line 3 after conan suggests that doyle might’ve hidden somewhere in fright:

“that’s true… to live afraid in hiding, with the terror that you may be found eventually, there’s nothing quite as harsh…” (そうね…いつかは見つかるかもしれない恐怖に怯えて隠れ住むぐらい、辛いことないもの…)

pleasant thoughts indeed. but interestingly, this time when conan reacts and tells her to cut it out, she actually engages to respond. third time’s the charm? or more likely because he asks if she’s sulking only about the possibility of assassination nbd which probably suggests to her that he’s not being as serious about this as she thinks he should be. this is reflected in her calling him “an optimist without any plans” before reiterating the danger they face if she’d been found out – without knowing that conan had said almost the exact same thing very seriously to agasa literally just hours earlier.

but of course! she wouldn’t! because conan responds by cheerfully reassuring her that she definitely Has Not Been Discovered. sometime later (aka in the jodie & heiji case) she will learn via overhearing that conan’s hiding org-related things because of his promise that she needn’t worry, but at this point she takes him at face value and responds with perfectly comprehensible incredulity: “how can you say something like that!?”

and his response (which she’s shown to be briefly surprised by) starts to negate that idea of him being a zero-plan optimist, because he has in fact considered and dismissed the possibility of someone from the bus having targeted her.

…by detecting a lack of killing intent with his detective-y senses.

alright, so maybe he’s only half an optimist with even less of a plan. reassuring.

(two notes here:

one, conan’s answer here is absolutely inconsistent with his earlier words to agasa, where he reasoned more logically that (a) any Org agents that might’ve been coincidentally on that bus shouldn’t have noticed Haibara’s presence, and (b) it’s been 10 days they would’ve murdered us all long ago otherwise. which points to him not being as certain of things as he claims to be here, but that shouldn’t really be a surprise to the readers.

two, if it’s not already obvious, haibara’s evaluation of conan at this point is not as accurate as she assumes it to be – a revolutionary concept that we later revisit via her thoughts in the post-bloody valentine murder-by-vcr case.)

anyway, they proceed to brush things off with some collective salt, and haibara stalks off declaring that she’s 100% done with detectives it’s almost 2am, i’m allowed to paraphrase??

after which case resolution happens, etc etc, followed by what is inarguably among the top 10 Best Haibara Panels ever, but tl;dr – 

the three lines collectively show that the fear and doubts/thoughts of escape raised by the bus hijacking didn’t miraculously end just because conan physically saved her and told her not to run (her accepting that doesn’t really happen until the higo intro case but that’s a whole ‘nother post which i am def not writing), but the subsequent conversation starts her re-evaluation of both conan himself and the idea that… well… you don’t have to be blindly optimistic to be optimistic? or at least not end-of-the-world pessimistic?

which – and this is important – still does not solve everything: if nothing else the ever-lurking possibility of pursuit still remains in her mind as of the subsequent case (aka genta’s barbershop adventure) and arguably only gets partially resolved during the later cases as brought up above.

and on a last note: how Good™️ is it that what finally breaks her doom&gloom mood is reaching out to reassure arthur that nobody is mad at him anymore? at which point the db reveals their topsekrit plans to cheer her up because they’re good children who deserve many good doggos, and i should sleep before this degenerates any further into drivel? responses welcome, i’ll figure out what to tag this in the morning. presume out

#detective conan #haibara ai #tiny science saltchild #detco meta

[sml-str]

100 followers!!!

I have officially gotten into the triple digits, my buddyos! 

I’d like to give a thank you to all of you for making this possible. Of course, I’m too dramatic to not do anything to celebrate this, and too busy to do anything much for a century’s worth of a crowd, so...

To celebrate, I want to give a list of people y’all really should be following instead (if you’re not already). Specifically, 11 people because that’s my number of followers without the zero in the middle. Yes, I’ve kinda done this with a list of 8 before, but like, at least 30-40 of you weren’t here for that one, I’m pretty sure.

Without further ado... They will be under the cut bc I didn’t wanna kill y’all with a long post and drop down to the nineties because of it.

@koedeza - She writes amazing fics. Her titles are amazing. Her fics are typically gen, so you don’t even have to worry about her shipping something you don’t - because there is no ship. 

@theboykingsam Okay, she’s on hiatus rn, but when she’s here, her content is amazing. A choice selection of reblogs and remarkable original content, plus she cool.

@crashng One of my OG followers who I am pretty sure has been with me from an early start (bless her flipping soul). She loves Sam Winchester, and only posts/reblogs the best things. Also, nice to chat with.

@smolstiel My very first beta on a fic, plus she’s a writing genius. Also just a genius in general. Amazing meta; referenced a long rebuttal she made on a post in a school assignment. 

@isaidgetout True Sam fan. Great meta. An icon.

@arlowritessam Again, a true fan of the one and only Sam Winchester, and I always enjoy seeing their stuff on my dashboard.

@boykvngs This goes without saying. We don’t talk and interact much, but somehow we’re mutuals? (#unworthy) and this blog is absolutely fantastic if you somehow have not come across it yet (in which case I ask you - how have you not?). 

@translesbiansam Her writing is one of the best things I have come across, and she kills me. We have had one conversation and she seems super cool. Great posts, fantastic original content. If you somehow (SOMEHOW) have not come across this super being... Do so. EDIT: they changed their URL to @deadlittlebrother in case the link doesn’t work for you/you have to look it up since tumblr can occasionally be shit.

@ghostwinchesters Amazing writing, great meta. Again, probably a blog y’all might already follow. We had one conversation way, way back where they taught me how tags worked on this site, so y’all have them to thank for why this blog has any semblance of a decent tagging system. As such, it seems fitting that they be mentioned.

@eruthiawenluin I don’t know if it’s legal or not to make a post about good blogs without listing Eru as one? Y’all likely follow the mysterious Eru, but if somehow you don’t, now you do. Go and do it. Somehow we’re technically sorta mutuals and I don’t know how that happened (#humblebrag). Fantastic Possum content, and we stan the possums.

@itsaboutsam Absolutely WONDERFUL writer. Again - you probably already know that we stan this blog. But again, there might be legal issues if I fail to list it. 

And that does it for the “Mimzy Sends All/Any Followers Away to Other People” extravaganza! ~not the right context for that word I am pretty sure ~

 Tune in next time to witness the “Mimzy Blatantly Tells You to Unfollow; It’s For Your Own Good” Winter Solstice party! 

jk jk, don’t unfollow I worked so hard. Anyway, go follow all them peeps if you somehow enjoy my many, many reblogs. Actually, you probably see a lot of some of these peep’s content already by how much I reblog their stuffs. It’s kinda like following them through a middle man.

#not spn #not fandom related sorry #Mimzy you're a mess #100! #Doing another list of blog recs whoop #!! #You can help me celebrate by following them I guess

[spaceorphan18]

Finding Kurt Hummel: New Directions (5x13)

Masterpost

5x13: New Directions

Welcome to the series finale of Glee… wait, this isn’t?  Oh.  Well okay then.  ;) 

While this feels very much like a finale, and in a sense, it is an ending, in a way, to the main series, I’m glad it’s not.  Because Kurt’s story and Klaine story really isn’t finished - nor does it get any more acknowledgement (well more than the previous episode), so I’m glad this isn’t the final wrapping up of the story.  But it did make me think – I think one of the sadder things about the later seasons is the lack of real arc for Kurt as an individual character.  Klaine will get a couple of arcs, but Kurt’s story post-Swan Song is very episodic – having beats here and there, but not a whole lot about his life individually.  And while I love the Klaine stuff and love a lot of what we got, I am sad that there isn’t more to it. 

I think also, Kurt feels like he falls through the cracks a little bit in these couple of episodes.  The previous episode highlighted all of the old characters, except Kurt gets shuffled to the side lines cause he didn’t fit into the bigger narratives outside his own going on in season 1-3.  And then he doesn’t fit in this one as much either, this being about the seniors and the group as a whole.  There are a lot of great Kurt moments in this episode, but there’s no story – and as a fan, I am a little sad to see that.  But I do wonder if, part of that, is because Kurt’s story always kinda existed outside of what Glee originally intended to do.  

CHUMS

Ah - the set up for Tina’s delightful fantasy sequence.  Blaine and Kurt run in to say they have good news – to which Sam replies that they got married and adopted Russian twin babies.  Um, wtf Sam?!? – I love the expression on Kurt’s face.  Though, man, I think an eloping story line probably would have been more fun than what we got.  No – Blaine just got into NYADA.  And Kurt, and everyone else, is super excited for him.  I kinda like the idea that Blaine opened his letter with Kurt first, and then they told everyone else.  

Tina is excited that they’ll all be going to New York together.  Sam is even more excited and whacks her with a trophy, and then we get one of the best fantasy sequences since they body-swapped.  

Well, damn Tina.  I don’t even care what this says about your subconscious, I am here for this. ;) 

We’re now in sitcom land that stars Tina, and the cold open has her walking in on Kurt and Blaine making out on the bed – something that we’ve sadly never seen up to this point.  Thanks, Glee, for finally giving us that ;)  

I find it absolutely hilarious that Kurt covers himself up (even though he’s dressed) as if he’s demur or something – when in reality (based on 414 and 514) we know that if you interrupt Kurt’s sexy times, he’s more likely to cut a bitch than act scandalized.  Sitcom Tina acts as though it’s gross – but let’s be real – she’s probably as turned on as the rest of us.  

Also, as a random aside, I enjoy the number of bunkbeds that are now in this version of the loft.  

So – we get our opening title sequence of CHUMS – the blatant Friends knockoff that stars Tina as Rachel Green.  I mean, they even recreate the opening sequence of Friends and I love everything about this – I wish there had been more, I wish they had done the names of the entire cast there.  Man, I just want to revel in this.  

This is one of those split second images that they flash through – and I just had to include it because I thought it was hilarious.  Anyway – sitcom!Kurt is having a ton of fun.  I’m guessing that was a great day of filming on set.  I mean c’mon.  

This particular sitcom doesn’t really have any plot – other than twenty somethings living in New York.  Huh – just like the real Friends!!  It’s also complete with kinda lame jokes complete with laugh track: 

Rachel: I’m never coming out of here. Kurt: That’s what I said when I was a sophomore in high school **canned laughter**

I do, however, love the running gag of Sam forgetting his clothes. 

The scene shifts to the diner (which was always a Friends-esque rip off) where Rachel laments about spray tans, Tina wishes she had Mike back, and Mercedes, Brittany and Puck show up to join them because now everyone works at the diner!  And Sam still doesn’t have clothes.  Man, I wish the show had done more fantasy sequences – or even a fantasy episode.  It would have been a lot of fun. 

I Am Changing

Can we take a second and just really zero in on these pants?  I mean – these may be the tightest pants Kurt has ever worn, and that’s saying something because he got himself into those gold lame pants that showed pretty much everything.  

Anyway…  the point of this scene is essentially Mercedes and Kurt trying to show Rachel and Santana that they can put old differences behind them.  And they do so by bringing up something that happened way back in season 2… 

Earlier that day, Kurt and Mercedes were eating in the school cafeteria.  Dudes.  Why?  Y’all are adults now.  Don’t eat that crap.  Anyway – Mercedes gets tots and just like but not really anything like season 2, Kurt tells her the tots are the greatest idea – and Mercedes shuts him down.  I find this moment freakin’ hilarious – because not only does it totally miss the point of the original episode - The Substitute - but the exchange between the two of them just cracks me up.  It’s still a shame that Mercedes and Kurt just don’t have much post-season 1.  

Also hilariously is when Kurt is recounting the event – he gets all excited about it, and over exaggerates – stating that they were at each other’s throats! I mean, we don’t know how long this tots argument went on, but I think it’s safe to say that Kurt is being adorably hyperbolic.  

I also love that Mercedes says she’s glad no one was there to see it – only for Artie to say that he was right behind them, and then Kurt goes on about how it’s horrible to see people you love fighting, and Blaine looks totally confused for a second, like – hey are we fighting? Oh wait, no this is about Rachel and Santana.  

So, they sing I Am Changing as a way to demonstrate that while you may be going different places in life, you can still rely on those good friends you’ve always had.  It’s blatantly there to show Rachel and Santana – yes, the two of you can still be friends.  ;) But it’s also a nice sentiment for Kurt and Mercedes, who have changed a lot in the past three years – and yet, their friendship, while very much in the background, is still firmly intact.  

So. Um.  Here’s what I’m gonna say about this.  Amber kills this song – it’s from Dreamgirls, this is totally her wheelhouse, and we all know she’ll later slay in this musical.  Chris, um…well, I don’t think this is his best song.  It’s interesting that – over the course of the show, his voice has dropped a little, and while he can still do all the high resister, I don’t think it’s as natural as it once was, and feels like it’s sitting in that awkward break place between low and high, and idk guys, sorry, I think had they changed the key lower a little, it’d have been fine.  I will say that when it goes into being a duet, and Kurt takes the lower harmony, it works pretty well!  

And, overall, I’m sad that during the show, the two of them had only two duets – cause their voices mesh pretty nicely.  

So yeah…  I’ll mention that during the song, Rachel looks sad and pensive cause she knows what they’re doing, but Santana looks pissed.  Man, she hates the meddling, lol. 

Beach Foam Party and Other Background Moments

So – I’m going to skip over the context of this, which is basically Holly finding absurd ways to bring music into the classroom, as well as tastelessly offensive impressions, and just talk about this random grouping of characters that they decide to be in this number.  It’s Kurt, Blaine, Rachel, Mike, Quinn, Puck and Will.  What do these characters have in common…uh, they were on set that day? I mean, there really is no reason for this grouping of characters, lol.  Whatever… 

I really question whether or not we needed Gwenyth Paltrow leading an 80′s-esque dance club number, but we did get Kurt and Blaine hilariously horrible dad dancing, so it’s partially worth it.  ;) 

I do kinda love that most of the high school students are standing on the sides going – wtf?!?  Cause yeah…  

Oh and more foam… 

Continuing on – the show wraps up a plot that I don’t think anyone outside the writers room, or the tabloids, cared about – and Rachel and Santana make up and decide to sing a song about it.  

It’s a nice song, and I like it.  So do Kurt, Mercedes, and Blaine who are jamming in the background. 

Everything’s gonna be okay, guys!! 

Or maybe it’s not…. 

Bypassing all the Puck and Quinn stuff – cause Kurt doesn’t have that many reactions, cause I don’t think he cares all that much (neither do I Kurt!) – Will goes on to say that that number is probably the last one to happen in the choir room.  It’s okay guys, it’s really not ;) But everyone is sad thinking about the end of glee club.  

And it’s weird, though, really – cause I mean for those in it, like the newbies, I think it’d be harder on them.  I feel like for Kurt – it’s like, okay this thing that gave me the only joy I knew in high school is gone, would be a little sad, but seriously, in real life – he’d probably have never come back in the first place…. 

The Time Capsule 

Hey! It’s the cast of The New Normal!

So, the kids all make Will (or Will’s son) a video talking about how great he is.  It’s kind of an eye-roll worthy premise, but despite it being about Will, I really kind of love everything about the video.  

Kurt’s little bit in the video is about how Will (or Glee Club) saved his life.  And here’s where I have slight conflicting feelings.  We’ll learn in 2009, and it’s been implied other places, that Kurt was suicidal before glee club started.  And I don’t doubt that the glee club did save Kurt’s life (and it’s nice to have canon confirmation of that).  The bit about Will being a big part of that…. eh, technically yes – he did create that space, so I’ll give that.  But I am ever so slightly eye-rolly at the idea that Kurt Hummel has any kind of lingering attachment to Will Schuester – especially when Kurt spent most of his glee club years looking at Will in disdain.  But, this moment plays nicely within the context that it’s given. 

On top of that – we learn that Kurt does want a family!  I do think the names being Hepburn and Tracey (nods to Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracey) is a bit of a joke, but I do think Kurt’s sincere in his admission that some day he’ll have kids.  And of course – there’s Blaine as his husband and… Quinn as the egg donor? I mean why not, it’s a hilarious beat.  And overall, I love this little sweet moment – of Kurt looking back and saying he’s got a pretty good life ahead of him.  

This is from the introduction of the video - where Rachel and Kurt are setting up that this is a video for Will’s kid, but I wanted to talk about the other stuff first… 

Kurt mentions that kids don’t know their dads until they’re older, and worn down with life, and I think it’s an interesting statement – and maybe it’s a slight nod to Kurt’s own relationship with is father, and about how as a teen - it’s strange cause it’s that time you are first learning your parents are really people, and that they may have been young once, too, and you can see first hand how weary life can make you.  Idk, just a lot of abstract thoughts in there. 

So.  We get our final reprisal of Don’t Stop Believin’.  And you know what?  This my favorite version.  Kurt comes out, second to Rachel, and sings the lines that Finn originally had.  And it’s not only a nod to Finn, but it’s nice to see just how far Kurt has come.  He was once another background player doo-woping with Mercedes, Artie, and Tina – and now he’s become (more or less) the male lead of the show.  Oh, bb, how time have change.  

I really do love everything about this song, though.  I like how they come out in cast order, starting with the originals, and expanding from there – and how everyone seems to get a little bit of the song.  And it feels as though it’s a song for all of them, and much more inclusive than the awfulness of the final scene in the previous episode.  This is, in a sense, a final curtain call (and the actual series finale, I think, reflects this moment).  

But I think, also, that this song, and these final few scenes, are really what makes this episode feel like a series finale.  A lot of loose ends are tied up, everyone is – forgive me for saying it – going in new directions.  This is the end of… season 4, of the show as it once was, and of what the show used to be.  And I’m okay with that.  The stuff that’s left – the Klaine story, Rachel’s career, etc, etc, is stuff for the two codas – those being the NYC arc and season 6.  

Glee as you knew it is done now.  

Graduation

But wait, there’s a little more! 

After 84 thousand years, Blaine is finally allowed to graduate? (Remember the joke that Brittany spinning during DSB finally turned time back on?  Can you believe it’s only been, technically, four months since I Do?!?)  And like us, Kurt is excited that his fiance is finally going to be joining him in the other place that is New York.  

And while one story ends, another begins - and I’m a little sad that that second story was so short…  But moving on…  ;) 

#finding kh #Kurt Hummel

[lickstynine]

Street Rats Part 1

this is the first chunk of a collab I did with @feelingsick, featuring young! Bel and Kazu. I really love this pairing, so I hope y’all do, too!

The strip club was fairly quiet, maybe because it was late on a weeknight, or maybe because the nudity economy was in a bad place. There was still music playing, of course, seeing as it’d be real damn awkward without it, but it was still quite audible when the creaky door flew open, smacking into the wall as a lanky young man stumbled into the venue. He was a little banged up, with bruises and bandages visible on his face and hands, but he seemed in high spirits nonetheless.

Scanning the stage with curious, lustful eyes, his pale blue gaze zeroed in on a lithe figure whose purple hair flowed sensually as they danced. Dropping into a chair near the dancer, he grinned slyly, clearly thinking himself to be quite clever as he asked, “Ey, sexy, you come ‘ere often?”

The dancer turned slowly, grinning over his shoulder. If he was startled by Kazu’s roughed-up appearance, he did a good job of not letting it show. He moved towards the edge of the stage, bending down in front of where Kazu sat.

“See something you like?” he asked.

“Yea, you.” Kazu smirked. “Y’ gotta nice ass, an' ya know how to move it. I don't see a lotta white boys that can actually dance.”

He brushed a loose lock of hair out of his face, stretching out his long legs to get comfortable in the shitty strip club chair. As thin as he was tall, his build was almost reminiscent of Jack Skellington. The battered jeans hanging about his legs were loose in the waist but several inches too short, and his faded jacket was rife with stitched-up tears and old burns.

The boy slid off the stage and moved to lean over Kazu’s chair, swiveling his hips. “I can move it any way you want,” he said, touching Kazu’s chest lightly.

The taller boy raised his eyebrows, “oh yea?” he asked, scanning the dancer more closely.

The dancer brushed up against him again, running his fingers through Kazu’s hair. “Just tell me what you want,” he purred.

“I think I want you.” he admitted. It was pretty obvious through the thin fabric of his worn jeans that he found the dancer quite attractive.

“We could always move this someplace a little more private,” the boy suggested. His hand brushed over Kazu’s crotch. “Hundred bucks a throw.”

Kazu bristled at the price, wondering whether he had money for so much as a gas station sandwich, much less a nice piece of ass. He hesitated to reply, trying to figure out how to weasel his way out of this mess, mumbling under his breath, “Shit…”

The dancer hesitated, drawing back a little as he suddenly understood. “Ah, I see. Maybe next time, yeah?” He winked, turning back towards the stage.

“Yea, maybe.” The dark-haired boy sighed, running his hands through his hair and climbing to his feet to leave. His ego was bruised and his wallet empty; he had no reason to linger. He glanced ruefully over his shoulder as he walked off, mentally kicking himself for being a broke embarrassment.

Bel hurried down the street, taking care not to touch the pocket that held his meager paycheck. He knew that was a surefire way to announce to anyone watching that he had something worth stealing.

He needed something to eat, and maybe a new jacket if he could swing that much cash. And, as the sun was already beginning to set, he needed to acquire those things as quickly as possible.

A flash of purple caught the eye of a local sleaze, who had been scanning the area for anybody who looked like they might actually have money on them. He was distracted from his task when he realized he recognized the purple-haired boy as the dancer from the other night. Tucking his pocketknife away in exchange for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, Kazu drew closer, hesitating to actually engage Bel yet.

He was about to say fuck it and walk away when he noticed the smaller boy shivering. Bel didn’t seem very well-dressed for the increasingly shitty weather, and despite his usual apathy and disdain towards the rest of the human population, Kazu felt a brief pang of concern. After a moment’s thought, he picked up his pace, reaching Bel’s side in a matter of steps (damn giraffe legs).

“What’re you doing around here? I ain’t seen ya in this part ‘a town, and I’m here… more than I’d like to be.”

Bel spun to face him, looking momentarily panicked before recognition hit. “You’re the guy from the other night,” he said, more to himself. He shrugged, tugging his jacket more tightly around him. “I live around here, but I don’t really get out much,” he answered, still eyeing Kazu warily.

“Weird.” Kazu remarked, “I know most’a the people around here…” he left out the part where most of them hated him. “Ya didn’t answer my first question, though. What brings ya out here, since ya said ya don’t normally get out?”

“Just running some errands,” Bel answered, unconsciously checking to feel that his money was still there.

The motion didn’t go unnoticed, and Kazu laughed. “I ain’t here to pickpocket ya. I woulda been long gone by now if I wanted your money. Smoke?” He held the cigarettes and lighter out to Bel.

Bel relaxed, if only slightly, accepting the cigarette gratefully. He let Kazu light it for him, taking in a long draw. “So,” he said, exhaling smoke, “I’m guessing you live around here, too?”

Kazu shrugged, tucking away his lighter and remaining cigarettes. He deliberately slowed his gait to keep from leaving Bel in the dust. “I… I guess ya could say that, yea.” He did exist in that area most of the time, but living usually implied a home of some sort.

“Yeah?” Bel raised an eyebrow. “So, do you have a name, or what?”

“I do. It’s Kazuhiro, not that most of you can pronounce it.” You seemed to mean Americans in context.

“Kazuhiro,” Bel repeated, managing a passable pronunciation. “Nice to meet you, Kazuhiro. I’m Isobel.”

“Nice t… Nice t’ meet ya too?” The taller boy repeated. It wasn’t a phrase he could recall saying before.

Bel smiled, taking another drag. “So, what do you do for fun, besides try to get free lap dances?”

“Look, I was drunk. I thought I had at least like… five bucks on me.” Kazu huffed defensively.

Bel snorted, but his smile was good-natured. “Do I look like a five dollar prostitute?”

“Mmm. Nah, I think ya prob’ly worth a solid seven.”

“Pssh. Flatterer.” Bel dropped the butt of his cigarette, grinding it out with the toe of his boot. “I was a little sorry to see you go. You looked like you could use a good time.”

Kazu sighed quietly, snuffing out his own cigarette between his fingers and tossing it aside. “Eh, I could use a lotta things I don’t got. Food. Money. An actual place to live. But I make do. I spent like an hour makin’ do-me eyes at the local rats after I left, an’ that shit’s free.”

“You don’t need to be paying for sex anyway, I’m guessing. You’re pretty cute, even all banged up.”

The taller boy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Mm, I guess not, but it kinda turns people off when they ask to go back to your place and your place is a pile a’ blankets in a foreclosed building.”

Bel’s expression softened, but he was quick to hide it. “Luckily, my job gives me a place to stay. Not much else, but it’s comforting to at least have a roof over my head.” He drew them to a stop, glancing up at the bar sign above them. “Hey, wanna drink?”

Kazu paused, rifling in his pockets in search of money. He produced little more than a fistful of lint and some stale mints. “Can’t. Broke.”

“It’s on me,” Bel said, nodding towards the door.

“You sure?” Kazu’s brows raised, unaccustomed to generosity.

“Consider it payback for the smoke. And for turning you down the other night.”

The taller boy shrugged, his desire to get smashed outweighing paranoia. “Works for me.” He pulled open the door, holding it for Bel.

Bel flashed a coy smile, slipping past him. “Such a gentleman.”

Kazu couldn’t help but laugh as he followed Bel into the bar. “What, ya hadn’t noticed what a classy dude I am?”

“Oh, for sure. Honestly, I was surprised to see you in the club at all. I figured you would have gone to a gala or something instead.”  

“Well, I couldn’t find my ballgown.” Kazu smirked, dropping onto a stool at the end of the bar. Despite the height of the seats, his lanky legs still nearly reached the ground, his toes grazing the floor as he settled in.

Bel slid onto the stool beside him, flagging down the bartender. “What’s your poison?” he asked Kazu.

“Vodka, neat.”

Bel nodded to the bartender. “I’ll have a cosmopolitan.”

“D’ya wanna pair a’ pink lacy panties to go with that?” Kazu teased.

“I wouldn’t mind a new pair, if you’re offering to buy.”

The dark-haired boy laughed and shook his head. “Nah, blue would look better on ya.”

Bel blushed, thankful when their drinks arrived and gave him something to do. He took a sip, drumming his fingers on the bar.

“So, what errands are ya blowin’ off to hang with my sorry ass?” Kazu asked, downing his entire drink like an oversized shot.

“Needed some food,” Bel answered. “I finally had some cash to stock up on essentials.”

“Well, save some cash for that. I’d rather drink a little less than see ya starve. Ya ain’t go much weight left to lose ‘fore your just a purple-haired skeleton.” That was easily the most hypocritical thing Kazu could’ve said, but his teasing tone was coloured with legitimate concern.

“I don’t mind,” Bel said honestly. “It’s not often I get to talk with someone who’s interested in more than jamming their dick inside me.”

Kazu chuckled, “And how d’ya know that’s not my endgame?” He gestured to the bartender for a refill.

“Hmm, I guess I don’t.” He sipped his drink. “But I don’t think I really mind one way or the other.”

“Must be my lucky night.” The taller boy grinned, downing his second glass of vodka as quickly as the first. “Free drinks, and a nice piece a’ ass… Man, it’s been years since anybody bought me a drink… that wasn’t poisoned.”

“Maybe that’s my endgame.”

This time, Kazu laughed much more sincerely, a surprisingly warm, deep tone. “There’s sure worse ways to die.”

Bel grinned, happy to have coaxed a genuine laugh from him. “So,” he said, ordering another drink for himself, “on the slim chance that this isn’t all some elaborate ruse to poison a near total stranger…I was thinking, you know, if you ever needed a place to crash for the night, I’ve got a couch…”

“Shit, man, you're living the life of luxury.” Kazu grinned. “I may have to take ya up on that soon. It's gettin’ cold as fuck out lately.”

“I hope you do,” Bel said, and he meant it.

The taller boy smiled, and for a brief second, the frostiness faded from his ice-blue eyes. He gestured for another drink, downing it before asking, “wanna show me the way there when we're done here?”

Bel grinned. “I’d like that.”

Kazu winked at him, glancing between Bel and the bar as he tries to decide whether he'd rather wrap his lips around another glass of vodka or the boy sitting next to him.

By the time Bel ordered his third drink, it was becoming obvious that he was drunk. He wasn’t a big drinker, and it definitely showed. On the bright side, he had completely relaxed, apparently deciding that Kazu meant him no harm.

The taller boy was still barely buzzed, ordering up another vodka as he looked Bel up and down. After a moment, he asked, “Why purple? Cause you like it, or cause it looks good?”

“Both,” he said, sipping at his drink. “I wanted a change after I left home.”

“Mm. I know that feeling. What's your natural colour?” Kazu asked, growing more curious as the alcohol warmed him up.

“Blonde,” he answered. He nodded towards Kazu. “I like your color, too.”

“What, this?” Kazu ran a hand through his messy dark hair. “It's natural, I can't be bothered to do anything with it.” He guessed that would probably come as a surprise; being tall and blue-eyed usually gets one read as Slavic or Scandinavian, which didn't exactly mesh with the slick blue-black hair he'd gotten from his mother.

“It’s beautiful,” Bel said, slurring his words a bit.

Kazu blinked in surprise, his cheeks burning red. He wasn't sure he'd ever gotten a compliment that wasn't from a horny guy twice his age before. “Uh… I… thanks?”

Bel smiled. “I’m glad we met. You seem nice.”

“I promise I'm not. I just happen to like you.”

“S’fine by me.” Bel downed the rest of his drink, nudging Kazu’s shoulder. “Wanna get out of here?”

“Hell yea.” Kazu drained his own glass and hopped to his feet. “lead the way.” He followed the smaller, much drunker boy out of the bar and back to his place, grabbing at Bel’s ass while the tipsy boy fumbled with the keys. As soon as they got in the door, clothes were coming off left and right.

Kazu was, as expected, somewhere between wiry and underfed, with a worrying assortment of scars covering his body, some of which looked weeks old at most. He grinned broadly at the sight of Bel’s lithe body, leaning in to nip at his collarbone and whisper, “Are you as good in bed as you are on the pole?”

“This apartment didn’t pay for itself,” Bel quipped, pressing himself close.

The dark-haired boy chuckled, pulling Bel in to make out. He tasted faintly of smoke and booze, but Kazu didn't mind, as he was much the same. As hands started to move down south, he groped around in the pocket of his discarded jeans to find a condom, and it was only a matter of minutes before they were going at it hot and heavy.  

Bel moaned, burying his face in the sheets as he moved against Kazu’s body. The furious pace felt amazing, until it didn’t. Suddenly, Bel was too hot, his stomach beginning to churn uneasily from all the alcohol.

He pushed himself up, reaching back towards Kazu. “S-stop for a second…”

Kazu froze, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t hurt ya, did I?” He was worried that perhaps he’d gotten a little too into it, maybe been rougher than he’d intended.

“No, I…” Bel swallowed, his hand moving unconsciously to his lips. “I just don’t feel great all of a sudden.”

“Ah, shit.” Kazu nodded understandingly, climbing off the bed to put his boxers back on. He offered a hand to Bel. “Think ya can make it to the bathroom?”

Bel nodded, taking Kazu’s hand and sliding off the bed. For once he was grateful for his tiny apartment, because by the time he’d made it to the bathroom he was already beginning to heave.

The taller boy cursed under his breath in Japanese, wrapping a supportive arm around the trembling Bel. He helped the sickly boy kneel down over the toilet, pulling an elastic off his wrist to tie Bel’s long purple hair back out of the line of fire. “Try an’ breathe, aight? You’ll be fine. Prob’ly jus’ need to get the booze outta your system.”

Bel hiccuped queasily, letting his head hang over the toilet. “Sorry about this.”

“You're fine, man. Ya got me drinks and a place to spend the night. I don't mind takin’ care of ya.”

Bel’s shoulders shook as he gagged, clearly still trying to fight it down. It didn’t take long for the nausea to win though. He lurched forward, letting out a surprisingly loud belch for someone so small. A rush of vomit was quick to follow, splashing forcefully into the toilet.

Kazu winced, but didn't say anything, patting Bel’s shoulder with a sympathetic hum.

Bel coughed once before vomiting up another stream, barely managing a breath before he was heaving up more of the alcohol. By the time he’d slipped into dry heaving, he was shaking like a leaf, his eyes watering from the exertion.

“Easy. Try to breathe.” Kazu murmured, rubbing up and down Bel’s spine with a surprisingly gentle touch.

Bel tried to follow his instructions, sucking in a sharp breath as his stomach continued to turn itself inside out. Slowly, he seemed to regain control, his stomach settling down as his heaving stopped. Bel slumped bonelessly against the toilet, wiping at the tears running down his cheeks. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“You're aight. C’mere.” Kazu scooped Bel up, carrying him carefully back to bed. “ya need anything? Water, maybe?”

“Mmm...maybe later,” Bel said, still feeling queasy.

Kazu nodded quietly, looking Bel up and down before murmuring, “roll over.”

Bel did as he was asked, scooting towards the side of the bed and rolling onto his side, tugging his thin blanket over him.

Kazu sat next to him, placing one warm hand between Bel’s shoulderblades, slowly rubbing up and down. “‘at feel any good?”

Bel gave a contented hum, nuzzling into his blanket.

“Try an’ get some sleep.” Kazu mumbled, trying not to be bitter about being cockblocked by puke.

Bel nodded a little, and in no time he was fast asleep.

Kazu stayed up a while longer, stepping outside for a cigarette before finally retreating to bed, curling up next to Bel with a soft yawn. He didn't sleep for long, waking up just after sunrise and slipping back into his clothes from the night before. He pulled a scrap of paper and a pen from his pocket, leaving a note that said thanks for the drinks, but misspelled and barely legible, along with his phone number. Leaving it on Bel’s nightstand, he tugged on his jacket and shuffled out the front door.

#emeto #emetophilia #alcohol #overindulgence #puke #drunk #uhh kinda nsfw? #idk it's really just implied boning #not much detail #anyway #kazu #kazuhiro #yokota #bel #isobel #feelingsick #collab