#i set these kids' house on fire to save them from satan

[hype-queer-fixated]

I have nothing but love for the idea that Crowley and Aziraphale's tiny, half-a-miracle attempt resulting in an off-the-scales powerful miracle is because they are a quite literal power couple and neither of them knows it. I also love the idea that the Metatron comes down to personally separate them when he realizes how powerful they are together and how dangerous they would be if they ever realized.

But a part of me clings to the headcanon that their attempt at a tiny miracle results in a colossal miracle instead because they are both cartoonishly bad at not being dramatic when they're together.

#i set these kids' house on fire to save them from satan #i ripped this entire roasted bovine carcass and used the ribs to punk the supreme archangel #i walked agaonizingly on consecrated ground when we hadn't spoken in nearly a century #oh and it was to let you know i'd rerouted a bomb during the fucking blitz to make sure you didn't look silly in front of nazis #well i excitedly asked you to almost shoot me in the face to save you the effort of snapping your fingers to fix some bottles #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots

[storytellersnek]

Memes are cool but we do not stan Father Jim Defroque in this haunted satanic house. Fucker is an antagonist in the story.

He's not cute or a fun dude to party with. As much as the video is funny and the tune catchy, the comedy is only the sugary coating to make it easier for some to see how vile supposed 'men of god' are or can be. And to some of us, its a very real depiction of people we actually knew.

He's the guy that will beat the shit out of the boy he strings along or out him. Jim will use, exploit, discard and condemned women. He upholds the status quo and gets to do what he wants with impunity. He's an abuser, a predator. He's the dipshit who preaches for our rights to be taken away. He's a grifter who panders to the alt-right.

He's the scumbag who says its divine will when someone in a minority gets their 'comeuppance' and prays for their soul. He applauds the monsters that make it impossible for trans ppl to use a public bathroom or receive life affirming care but his most searched category of the Hub is trans. He is the snake oil salesman who says he can cure the terminally ill and/or says its demons. He preys on people and hides behind a book to feed his ego and habit. He's the fucker who rather we die than have the right to abortion. He's the piece of shit who will give you a sermon about the glass of wine you had but does Nazca sized lines. He's a liar and a thief and a predator.

People like him exist IRL. People who berated me and verbally, emotionally, and psychologically abused me for anything I did from being queer, sexpositive, wearing black eye-shadow, and listening to rock/metal or liking horror stories. To simply being raised aethistically or just the opposite of their own perfect family so therefore must be evil and wrong. My aunt hated me and called me a devil worshiping wh*re because I didn't drink, have boyfriends, or go out like her perfect god fearing kid did. My Nana was convinced I needed to be saved and used a very low point in my life when I was very vulnerable, leading me on line by line to welcome Jesus into my heart. Like some kind of trap or twisted deal.

He's a satirical form of some really shitty fuckheads. And potentially awful predatory people. Yknow like the Inquisition, holy wars, Christian nationalism, all the shit in the Vatican & Catholicism, fucking billionaires and the ever infamous tele-evangelists (which is exactly what the song is abt FYI)

He's a villain and the very thing this band talks about in their music. A hypocritical, self serving, lying, coward. A manipulative little parasite. An ego driven, shitstain who uses god and a book to hurt and use as many as they wish. To get what they want no matter the cost or who pays it. All he cares about is that he keeps his power and doesn't have to face any consequences. He's got a whole flock of sheep and plenty of scapegoats as a pastor. You'll never find him practicing what he's preaching. Won't see him sacrificing. He's got a congregation to do that for him.

He would hurt the characters of the band if given chance. With out the shadow of a doubt in my mind because people like him have hurt me for much less than what any of the characters in Ghost lore are or have done.

He's not a blorbo. Or a secret fling of one of the Papas. Defroque is the asshole who might have traumatized them. He's the conservative fucker trying to set the Ministry of Ghost on fire. There is no enemies to lovers trope here. He's the fucker who wanted to exorcise me for listening to ACDC and Iron Maiden

Needless to say Jim Defroque fans dni.

Edit: The Hockey players are apparently minors? Like Teens. So yeah I stand by what I said. Defroque can choke.

#the band ghost #father jim defroque #ghost bc #ghost band #anti father jim defroque #ghost #jesus he knows me #Phantomime

[imsosocold]

My Evelyn hcs so far ( subject to change)

Evelyn used she/her, they/them, hey/hem, se/shim/ and emb/embers pronouns. Evelyn was trans masculine but not male. (Caleb, if you’re wondering, was trans fem and trans masc and used he/him and she/her pronouns).

Polyamorous Aro-Ace Spec. Se and Caleb were queer platonic partners and cuddle buddies.

 Evelyn was sex negative to sex neutral and Caleb was sex positive to sex neutral. 

Initially dated Caleb at first as a middle finger to their family and the Boiling Isles at large but hey eventually grew to care for him.

Evelyn and Caleb’s favorite thing to do was queesting.

Evelyn and Caleb wrote their own vows and it was like an hour  of them complimenting each other and calling the other the most cursed nicknames “scrimbly bimbly, scrumpo blorbo, little meow meow, soft bean husbando” etc.

Evenlyn actually kind of hated herself for taking on such a big commitment on their own. Partnership required too many compromises heir eyes. Had considered getting a divorce before but ended up never doing so.

Was a hunter of witch hunters who tried to save those accused in witch trials. For his crimes Evelyn set upon Caleb to do community work, making sure to keep her under watch and separated from the accused they had saved. Evelyn also made his  history and past actions public to everyone else in the Isles.

Evelyn met the Wittebane siblings when they were all kids ( emb was the oldest of the trio) and liked to mess with them. Evelyn also liked just watching them from afar, interested in their developments and existences. 

Evelyn was delighted by how happy magic made Caleb, who saw it as fresh and new. Magic is so normalized and widespread in the Isles, that to Evelyn, it was being taken for granted and not given proper appreciation.

The Clawthorne family were Palistorm wood and Witch Wool growers in addition to wand and amulet makers. Evelyn hated her family and often called them “ the cult of Clawthorne”.

To Evelyn, Palismen are representative of the emotions and experiences of the current moment, forever memorialized, rather than sentient beings with their own emotions and desires. 

In addition to Flapjack, emb had an Anhinga Palismen, a Quetzal Palismen, a  Phoenix Palismen, a Caladrius Palismen, a Kākāpō Palismen, and a Scarlet Ibis Palismen. Evelyn also had a handkerchief with a Potoo on it that could turn into the bird and fly away and had a snake bracelet that could turn into a white lipped python.

In addition to giving Caleb Flapjack, Evelyn made a Pelican Palisman for her.

While heavily believing in the concept of destiny, Evelyn wasn’t worried about the legacy or plan of the Titans, refusing both prayer and practice to them, seeking only to not offend. If Caleb had survived she and  Evelyn would have been famous together, something universally glorious, something that hadn’t happened before in recorded history. 

Would fight Satan AND God ( to Philip's distress).

 Evelyn and Philip’s relationship was more complex than hate; they both understood each other in a way Caleb never would and it drove them all to pieces.

Called Philip duckling since he followed Caleb to the Isles the way a duckling follows its mother. Had been making a Mandarin Duck Palisman for him before the incident.

Stress made lanterns, lamps, and fireworks. Philip picked up this habit from her and kept it as Belos.

Had heterochromia, one light blue eye outlined by a darker blue and one olive green eye.

Had a howling laugh. 

German.

Was as warm as an oven, had a lingering smoke smell, and tasted of ash. Primarily used fire magic with a little bit of air magic mixed in.

Evelyn died peacefully surrounded by loved ones, something that greatly upset Philip who thought they’d go fighting, even “just” against a disease.

When Evelyn left home se found Hooty ( who back then was more of a villa, I hc the Owl House transforms into the type of home one needs most at the time) and took shelter in him, Caleb eventually moving in as well.  Evelyn left Hooty after Caleb’s death, not wanting him to potentially be caught in the crossfire between se and Philip. Hooty never forget her though.

#planning to do a character profile for her... eventually #give it a couple years #probably #noelle's rambles #toh #evelyn clawthorne #toh hcs

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Brothers and Side Characters Play the Sims

I don’t know what possessed me to make this but WHATEVER. I’ve been playing the Sims since I was a wee little girl, and I’ve seen my fair share of weird Sims stuff that I feel would fit these bozos perfectly.

My Sims have a Functional Family Life Because I Don’t (Lucifer)

God dammit Levi’s obsessed with another game... ugh.

Spends 5 minutes in Create-a-Sim and hops into a starter home.

Lucifer’s the type to start with all the average stuff and then build their stuff up as his sim gets promotions.

It’s just... so peaceful...

...he’s adopting a dog.

Look at his new little virtual family... his sim-kids are self sufficient and getting A’s in school, his Sim spouse MC or Diavolo take your pick loves his Sim-self, his sim-dog-

WAIT NO- THE DOG’S AN ELDER?!

AAAAAAAAAAAAA-

...

He’s fine. It was just a virtual dog. *sniffle*

He’s now spending his free time drinking Demonus and playing the Sims.

What’s a mod? Levi why does your sim have gun?

Behold, My Gorgeous Home... It’s a Box (Mammon)

Mammon, like the rest of the HOL, is mooching off of Levi’s Origin account.

“AW SHIT! This house looks awesome! I’m gonna build it for Sim-me to live in!”

Mammon proceeds to build a box with rooms. Yay...

He just picks the funnest sounding job if he picks any job at all for his Sim. That’s how he ended up making 9 dollars an hour in the criminal career.

Didn’t stop Mammon from buying that solid gold bathroom set from Get Famous... a box with solid gold bathrooms.

His Sim is broke send help-

“Leviiiiiii my sim needs money... the people my sim kidnapped and is forcing to paint aren’t making enough money...” “Ugh... press control shift C and type ‘motherlode’.”

...Levi made a mistake.

“FUCK YEAH! MOTHERLODE!”

His sim’s life is so chaotic, he has a piranha pool that his sim has almost died in twice, the sim is carrying on several torrid love affairs, his sim got struck by lightning, his sim has nearly died in a grilled cheese making accident twice... in the same day.

At least once Sim-Mammon and Sim-MC get married things calm down a little.

Mammon finds out what custom content is and proceeds to download EVERYTHING HE CAN FIND.

And now he’s asking Levi why his computer is running so slow.

Expansion Pack King (Leviathan)

He got into it back when the Sims 2 was new, he’s a veteran fan.

“Bro remember when Agnes Crumplebottom would show up and whack the shit out of your sims if they were flirting?”

“Remember when that witch would show up randomly on the lot you were on if you had Makin’ Magic?”

“Remember when Bella Goth was abducted by aliens and we just... didn’t question it?”

He whines about the Sims4 and how crappy it is but still buys every expansion pack, game pack, and stuff pack.

This boy watches like 40 hours of built tutorials and ends up sobbing over his weird roofs.

“WHY DOESN’T IT LOOK AS NICE AS THE ONE I’M LOOKING AT?! THIS ISN’T FAIR!”

The mod folder is so full istg-

Levi gets custom content for the sole purpose of making his favourite fictional characters.

This is why Henry and the Lord of Shadows are married and Ruri-chan and Sim-Levi are roommates.

Oh my god they were roommates-

Levi also added his brothers to the world and uh... Sim-Mammon died in a tragic pool accident F.

Levi then proceeded to befriend the Grim Reaper.

He’s anxiously awaiting the release of Paralives.

Wait Gameplay? In This Build Simulator? (Satan)

Satan’s here to build and leave. Gameplay who?

Our favourite bundle of rage is a master architect and the amount of followers on the Gallery he has shows it.

He takes up those build shell challenges and always ends up making them look positively perfect.

Asmo’s always using his houses, and Satan often takes requests when he gets bored.

No Mammon, he reserves the right to refuse to build a golden castle for you- YOUR SIM HAS 40 SIMOLEONS-

No mods, no CC, he’s building with what EA gave him.

...and EA gave him debug objects, and he’s not going to explain how to get them.

The one time he did actually play with a family... it was one sim and seven cats.

He tries to play without cheats... and ends up getting frustrated and turns on cheats.

All hail the Pets Expansion Pack.

Custom Content Soap Opera (Asmodeus)

Asmo spends 5 hours in Create a Sim then just... clicks out of the game.

That’s how it goes most of the time, buuuuuut when he gets super invested in a family he’s made, boy howdy is he INVESTED.

Sim A is carrying on an affair with Sim C who’s in love with Sim B who’s married to Sim A but Sim D wants to kill Sim A and C even though they’re the illegitimate child of Sim C-

When Asmo realizes that in the Sims 4 he needs to manufacture all the drama himself and he can’t just sit back with a glass of wine and watch the fireworks, he switches to the Sims 2 and 3.

“...why is this old lady beating up my Sim..?”

He immediately recoils in horror upon seeing how ugly the Sims are pre Sims4.

HE NEEDS TO FIX THIS-

Ah, there we go, perfect. Custom Content to the rescue!

He ends up remaking the entire world just so he doesn’t have to look at weird looking Sims.

Asmo is the only one to have finished a proper Legacy Challenge, but it gets crazy chaotic after gen 3.

“My sim just got abducted by aliens and now he’s pregnant- WHAT?!”

He has about 40 saves and only two he actually plays.

Just a Big Ol’ Happy Family (Beelzebub)

Beel found the game, proceeded to make everyone in create-a-sim to the best of his abilities, and made everyone get along.

That’s why Sim-Lucifer and Sim-Belphie are on a swing set together, they’re friends :D

“Hey Luke do you think you can make this?” “I-is that a cake shaped like a hamburger?” “Yes. Please make.”

He took one look at the cooking options and decided to max out his Sim’s cooking skill to unlock all the options.

Beel proceeded to drool all over his keyboard. Gross...

Boy howdy did he have some crazy dinner suggestions!

Overall, very wholesome Sim-life, except for the time Sim-Levi died because the toilet caught fire, don’t worry, Sim-Beel knows how to make ambrosia.

All is good in the Sim save...

...until Sim-Beel ate pufferfish nigiri and fuckin died-

Wait Did I Not Pause- (Belphie)

Huh, this game looks fine... I’ll play for a little- *SNORE*

Belphie makes some sims, plops them into a starter home, plays for an hour, then falls asleep.

He wakes up five hours later to absolute carnage.

Three sims have died because someone decided to make Mac and Cheese and the oven caught fire, the kids were taken away by social services, and the dog ran away.

“...heheh, holy shit everyone look.”

He doesn’t play often, but when he does, death occurs. He has found out every death method for every game from Sims 2 to 4.

And that INCLUDES the Sims Medieval! You guys remember that game?

Sometimes it’s not intentional, but Belphie got bored with the totally normal life his sims were living and decided to spice it up.

“Why are the ghosts breaking my showers..?”

Help There’s a Bug- (Diavolo)

The Crown Prince started playing when he noticed Lucifer was playing it.

He was immediately obsessed.

Dia mostly plays the Sims Medieval because he likes the feeling of achievement after completing a quest!

“Barbatos... why isn’t my Sim completing their task? The icon won’t show up.” “My lord it appears the game is bugged.” “:(“

No one thought to tell Diavolo that EA doesn’t plan on offering bug support to a game made in like... 2009

This doesn’t matter! Look at how great his kingdom is doing- oh no his hero has the plague-

He plays through the Pirates and Nobles expansion and manages to get the peaceful ending, he’s so proud of himself.

“MC! Look! My Monarch’s sword is permanently on fire and I’m fighting an evil wizard!”

When he does play the other Sims games he’s pretty basic, though, he does a great job at furnishing!

Dia gets crazy sad when his Sims die... he turns off aging.

Builder no. 2 (Barbatos)

Barbie doesn’t have time for this... but when he does, he builds.

No create a sim.

No playing the game as intended.

Just builds.

It’s relaxing, okay? A nice little suburban house he’s never going to play in, maybe a treehouse, maybe a big Hollywood Mansion...

The only time he actually plays the game outside of build mode is when someone needs his help to fix something in-game.

He does download custom content build items if he feels bored by the current selection.

Oh Crap What Am I Doing?! (Simeon)

Help him. Please.

He’s so confused.

“Luke, why is my sim upset?” “He’s hungry, Simeon.” “Oh, how do I fix that?” “...Simeon-”

There’s a toilet in the middle of the living room.

The fridge is facing the wall.

There’s no bathtub or shower.

The house is on fire- there is no god- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

Okay, once he gets the hang of it he’s sitting pretty. His sims have good jobs, the kids are getting good grades, everything’s fine.

...

But Simeon won’t forget the nightmares.

What Even is This Save? (Solomon)

Solomon’s save is the definition of chaos.

One sim’s a vampire, the other is a spellcaster that really wants to fight the Callientes for some reason, there’s one normal sim that’s always sick for some reason,

It gets weird, confusing, and horrible.

Just how Solomon likes it.

His house makes no sense, like, what even is architecture?

Money cheats are needed because Solomon‘a goal of chaos and confusion is proving to be kind of expensive.

Square up Mortimer Goth, Solomon’s sims are here to steal your weird knight statue that’s worth a shit ton of simoleons for NO REASON.

He joined the scientist career for the sole purpose of getting to the alien planet and kidnapping adding an alien to the household via cheats.

The vampire ended up dying on their wedding day because Solomon forgot that he gave them the sun weakness.

Oh well, the ghost got added to the household! VAMPIRE GHOST!

The Child (Luke)

Before you say Luke’s too young to play the Sims, you should know that I was nine when I first started playing, and I turned out fiiiiiiiiiine.

He’s just happy to be playing.

Look, his sims are gardening :D

Look, two of them are getting married :D

Look, they had a baby :D

Look, his sims are building a rocket ship :D

Look, his sims’s rocket just crashed-

The concept of death hit the little angel right in the face that day.

“*sniffle*... my sims...”

Don’t worry, with tears in his eyes, Luke quit without saving and everything was fine!

Speaking of My Sims, Luke played MySims Sky Heroes and that was when Luke had his first bout of gamer rage.

MC came over to hang out with Solomon and Simeon, and in the distance they could just hear:

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY TIME WASN’T FAST ENOUGH TO CONTINUE THE STORY!? I’LL SHOW YOU FAST ENOUGH TIME!”

Okay, maybe Simeon should take the game away... just for a bit... he should take heed not to be bitten by the incredibly angry chihuahua.

Bonus:

MC: Why are our Sims married?

*Insert Boy Here*: Uh... that’s weird... I have no clue why they’re doing that...

#Obey me #obey me headcanons #Obey me! #obey me! shall we date? #obey me! headcanons #obey me shall we date #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #obey me leviathan #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Diavolo #Obey me MC #obey me barbatos #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Luke #Obey me Solomon

[diavohno]

peccant pt.1

▹ pairing: lucifer x fem!reader, mammon x fem!reader, leviathan x fem!reader, satan x fem!reader, asmodeus x fem!reader, beelzebub x fem!reader, belphegor x fem!reader

▹ genre: smut, rut!au

▹ words: 6.6k

▹ rating: nsfw

▹ warnings: mc curses like a sailor and solomon has no filter, lucifer’s had a rough time, a pinch of grinding, mentions of masturbation, hickies, explicit sexual content, vaginal sex, rough sex

▹ notes: tadaa! this took a bit longer than I had originally planned (hence the big gap between the sneak peek and the full release) but I was determined to crank this out for @hornywrath​‘s birthday! hope you enjoy a lil bit of mammon hun, and happy birthday! also, I guess this also counts for a 400 follower milestone, which we hit very recently! thank you all for being here, I hope the wait was worth it ;)

“Solomon, I’m about ready to fight someone,” you seethed to the sorcerer as you glared up at his ceiling from your comfortable resting spot on top of his bed.

The entire situation was ridiculous. The brothers had been actively avoiding you almost all week, which was annoying enough, but today they had cut off all communication with you entirely. No one came down to breakfast, no one was in any of your shared classes, and no one even bothered to text you so you’d know what the hell was going on. If they were going to give you the cold shoulder the LEAST they could do would be to tell you why.

Instead, you were left to wonder what you had done wrong because surely there was some explanation for their behavior. After a full day of scouring your memory during boring classes (in which there was no one to distract you, unlike usual) you were still drawing a blank on what exactly you had done. 

This only meant one thing: you were 100% innocent in this situation, and the brothers would never live this down if you had anything to say about it.

When you were about halfway back to the House of Lamentation after class your D.D.D. buzzed. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest seeing that the notification was a text from Lucifer. It was the first time any of the brothers had contacted you all day! With any luck, you’d finally get some explanation as to just what was going on, and (if you were lucky) an apology. The second one is highly unlikely given that it was Lucifer who had texted you, but you still had hope. That is, until you opened the message.

After class, immediately go to Purgatory Hall. You will be staying there with the other exchange students until further notice.

A second set of buzzes followed the first, in case one punch to your heart wasn’t enough.

Under no circumstances are you allowed to return to the House of Lamentation without permission.

Excuse you? Were you seriously just told that you weren’t allowed in your own house anymore? Sadly, yes, that seemed to be exactly what had just happened, and Lucifer isn’t the sort of person that you’d argue with about an order.

But come on, you hadn’t even gotten an explanation!

With no other choice, you turned your livid butt around and marched (read: stomped) over to your new home, ready to tell (read: rant to) your fellow exchange students of the injustices you had been served as of late. As if Lady Luck wanted to send an ‘F U’ herself, Solomon was the only one in Purgatory Hall when you arrived. Not the beautiful and benevolent Simeon, or Luke, who you thought of as an angelic younger brother, but Solomon, with a fox’s grin that was far too smug for your liking. And, unfortunately, the smugness only grew as you lamented about how abysmally bad your week had been thus far.

“Oh, y/n,” he said, a teasing coo woven into his tone. Your attention shifted from his incredibly interesting ceiling to his incredibly boring head that he was propping up on his desk with his incredibly boring hand. Solomon may be one of your best friends, but you’d be lying if you said he didn’t push your buttons all the damn time. “You’re so naive to the ways of the world.”

“Sorry I’m not a fancy pants magic bitch like you,” you grumbled with no real bite behind your words. Would you believe he then had the audacity to snicker at you? Because that’s exactly what he did. It took all of your strength plus a little extra from the Big Man Upstairs to not clock the white-haired menace into next week. “Solomon, explain to me what’s going on before I do something I won’t regret.”

Ever the fake pacifist, he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, no need for violence. And, really, it’s your own fault that you don’t know about demon ruts.”

Silence filled the room, leaving you to sit there and drown in it as Solomon seemingly decided the desk itself would make a much more comfortable seat than his chair. With just those few words he had managed to switch your brain from operating on Google Chrome to Internet Explorer, and what is the next thing he does? Perches on his desk like it was normal. 

After some time passed with you buffering and Solomon preening as if he had just been graced by God, you finally managed to spit out, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

More snickering. Try as you might, you couldn’t fight off the blush that had been steadily creeping onto your cheeks, so you instead gave in and decided to find out as much as you could. “You mean, right now, they’re at home—”

“Jacking themselves off on anything of yours that they can get their cummy little demon mitts on? Ding ding ding, you’ve guessed it! Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been in your room already. Having a—” calculating eyes swept your form from head to toe before continuing irritatingly hesitantly, “presumably fertile female so close is akin to torture when they’re rutting, so what remains of your pheromones are probably the only thing they can smell at the moment.”

Taking the high road for once in your little gremlin life, you chose to ignore the ‘presumably fertile’ comment and remained focused on the topic at hand: the brothers were going through a demon rutting period. “That is so unbelievably disgusting and hot at the same time.”

So some of your inner gremlin slipped out, sue you.

Solomon sighed as if he expected nothing more from you, white strands of hair falling onto his face as he pressed it into the palms of his hands. “Leave it to you to be turned on by the suffering of others.”

“Shut it, Solomon, you know what I mean.” Heat flared across your cheeks at the insinuation. You may be many things, but a sadist was not one of them; Lucifer had that title locked down anyway. “Dammit. What do I do, Solomon? Lucifer texted me saying that I can’t go back, so does he really expect me to wear the same clothes for however many days it takes for their ruts to end?”

“Probably. He’s twisted like that. Ooh, what if he’s getting off to the idea that you’re—”

Before you had a chance to cut Solomon off from finishing a sentence that would have undoubtedly mortified you to no end, a series of rapid-fire buzzes from your phone did it for you. You had patted both yourself and the area around you on the bed down thoroughly only for Solomon to dangle your phone in the air. Warning bells sounded off in your head loud and clear the moment you noticed his cheeky grin.

“I think you should put this one on speaker.”

With a flick of his wrist, your phone sailed through the air and landed on the bed next to you after you failed to catch it. Ignoring Solomon’s snort, you flipped your phone over to see who was calling you. The name, along with everything you had just discussed with Solomon, caused your pulse to pound in your ears.

It was Mammon.

Panic ran through your veins like liquid lightning. Should you answer it? There could only be one reason why he would be calling if he was rutting. Warmth shot straight to your core. Deep down, you realize that if he was calling you to ask for help, you’d say yes. Solomon cleared his throat and gestured at your phone, reminding you to answer before you lost your chance. Without hesitation, you answered the call, switching to speakerphone with a pointed glare from the man across from you.

Within seconds, breathy groans rang out from the phone. Your face flushed as you spared a glance at Solomon, who had donned a shit-eating grin, before your attention snapped back to the phone upon hearing Mammon’s voice. “Where are ya, y/n?” he whined. “I need ya so bad.”

Your teeth caught your bottom lip between them. “Lucifer told me not to come back for now, so I’m at Purgatory Hall.”

A string of expletives exploded from the speaker, although they died down as quickly as they started. When Mammon addressed you again, the pleading tone to his voice was in no way subtle. “Please. . . Please come help me, y/n. I need ya.”

“Mammon, babe, are you rutting?” Your eyes widened in horror while Solomon snickered gleefully; the question had fallen out before you could really even think about it. 

You weren’t given much time to worry over it, though, as Mammon answered in confirmation, “Yeah. And everythin’. . . Everythin’ fuckin’ HURTS. It hurts so bad, y/n, please.” Images of some of your succubi and incubi friends flashed through your head. It would probably be best that a demon helped him through his heat. If you helped, you’d likely get hurt. You had just begun to offer to call one of your friends when your words were cut short with a growl. “No, dammit! I only want you! Only you, ya hear me, y/n?”

A milky-white hand clamped firmly against his mouth was the only thing preventing Solomon from alerting Mammon to the fact that you were not the only human hearing him at that moment, and that hand was getting dangerously close to not being enough to save the two of you. The thought of how Mammon would react upon finding the two of you out sent a shiver down your back. You could NOT let that happen.

Executive authority coursed through you as you turned off the speakerphone and brought it up to your ear instead; a curling lick of satisfaction in your chest was the only thing Solomon’s huff of discontent managed to elicit. “Okay, Mammon, I’m on my way.”

A pleased groan answered your words, followed by a click. You blinked a few times, waiting to no avail for anything else— he had hung up on you. Although you’re not quite sure what you expected (some thanks would have been nice) you couldn’t help but to notice how your body seemed to be thrumming with anticipation.

“Oh, you’re on your way, are you? You DO realize that if you go to help one of them you’ll have to help ALL of them, right? So are you stupid? Is that it?” the whirlwind that was Solomon accused, white brows furrowed in total scorn. “And here I was, thinking that you were a creature of intelligence. Oh, how it pains me to be wrong.”

Already on your feet, you pocketed your phone and smoothed out your clothes, ready to head to the House of Lamentation at any moment. After concluding that you were presentable enough to go have a demon rip your clothes off your body— a matter that you had grown incredibly serious about in a somewhat suspiciously short amount of time, as if the thought of being ravaged by the brothers had crossed your mind before— you turned to address the snarky sorcerer in the room. “You heard him, Solomon. He’s in serious pain right now, and he wasn’t going to accept anyone else’s help getting through it.”

“That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it,” he said in exasperation. “He’s a DEMON. He’d say whatever he needed to in order to get you there!”

Arguing with him was clearly going to get you nowhere. Instead, you stared down Solomon, daring him to continue trying to change your mind. It was a battle of the minds, and luckily for you, you happened to be one of the most bull-headed humans to ever grace the earth. After what couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, Solomon relented with a burdened groan.

“Fine, just let me cast a spell on you so you aren’t impregnated and obliterated, for the love of God.” His eyes searched yours imploringly. If you didn’t know any better you’d almost think that he was worried about you, but that would be a ridiculous idea. Still, you agreed, to which he let out a breath of relief.

Without wasting any time he crossed the room and took your hands in his own. Low mutterings in a language you didn’t recognize left his mouth, so you focused on the feeling of his hands; they were surprisingly soft and a bit bigger than you had previously thought.

A faint warmth and a corresponding tingling sensation started at your fingertips and soon encased your entire body, the tingling somehow reassuring as it raised goosebumps to the surface of your skin. Your eyes flitted up to Solomon’s questioningly, only for them to widen in shock— his eyes had gone entirely white and were glowing. Just as you were about to admit that his magic was actually pretty cool, it stopped.

The warmth and tingling disappeared, and Solomon’s eyes blinked back to normal. The only effect of the magic that you could feel was a particular humming sensation in your lower abdomen. That, and you felt like you could take on Diavolo himself and win, but that wasn’t a new feeling; an uncommon one, sure, but definitely not new.

Satisfied with his work, Solomon staggered a few steps backward before flopping onto his bed. “You should be good to go.” He propped himself up on his elbows, fixing you with a squinted stare. “You’re lucky I enjoy our banter, y/n. Can’t let you go and get yourself fucked to death, now can I?”

“God, don’t phrase it like that,” you said in a strangled voice, to which Solomon cackled and dropped onto his back once again. Just when you thought the two of you might have grown closer, he had to go and say something as mortifying as that. With renewed vigor, you scurry out of the room.

Solomon’s silvery voice echoed through the open door behind you. “Like what, the truth?”

He just managed to catch your snort before you walked out of earshot, leaving the sorcerer sprawled out on his bed, his chest heaving in deep breaths of air. The spell he had cast on you had taken quite a bit out of him. Now, he struggled to even keep his eyes open as waves of sleep crashed over him.

Would it normally take this much energy to prepare a human body for a demon rut? He supposed not, although it wasn’t exactly something he did except on the rare occasion, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you wouldn’t just be dealing with one demon. There was something else, too. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Ah, well, it was sure to come to him after he had rested up again. The comforting blanket of sleep settled over him, as well as his own blankets after he slipped under their covers. Right before he entered dreamland, the vision of a glowing pact mark appeared in his mind. His eyebrows knitted together; was this a premonition?

However, the mark was soon swallowed up by the foggy mist of his mind, and Solomon drifted off to sleep. 

x x x x x

Never before had you gotten to the House of Lamentation faster than you did today. Just going home wasn’t nearly the same level of motivation as going to get some demon dick, so you hauled ass in record time, weaving in and out of random pedestrians you encountered that were walking the paths around the Devildom. Your friends really were right: you had no hope of making it into heaven. The worst part is, they had no clue whatsoever how true that statement was.

You came to a halt in front of the dorm you had recently come to call home, your hands on your knees as you struggled to regain your breath. It took everything you had not to just collapse into a weary heap on the front steps, but the promise of what was to come was enough to keep you going. Instead, you took a minute to steady your breathing before climbing the steps and slipping into the house. Technically, Lucifer had forbidden you from coming home, so it would probably be best to not alert him to your unwanted presence.

Thankfully, you had plenty of practice tip-toeing around from all of the times you’d snuck out with Asmo to go clubbing. Lucifer would never know you were there.

As you snuck past the kitchen toward the hallway of bedrooms, the sound of the tap turning on freeze you in your tracks. With your heart in your throat, you slowly twisted your head toward the direction of the sound, hoping from the bottom of your sin-stained heart that the person responsible wasn’t who you thought it was.

There, his bare back hunched over the sink with a glass of water clenched tightly in his degloved hand, stood Lucifer. Although the mere presence of the man had you rattled, what he was wearing— or rather, what he WASN’T wearing— made you even more so. He had donned a pair of baggy grey sweatpants that rested low on his hips and had lost the rest, leaving little to be imagined. Little to be imagined of HIM, that is— the sight sparked plenty of thoughts on your part. 

The temptation to slink away to Mammon before you were discovered was great, but the temptation of marveling this new side of Lucifer was greater; you steeled yourself and moved toward him.

His rut seemed to have taken quite the toll on him already, as his usually well-kept hair was now disheveled and somewhat damp as if he had just recently gotten out of the shower. A shiver ran down your spine as the image of Lucifer in his shower was plastered to the forefront of your mind. With much thanks to your abysmally short attention span, the thought was easily discarded when you noticed that his muscles rippled along his back with each movement he took: emptying his glass; placing it back down on the counter; pushing his hair back.

Even as he turned around and realized someone had joined him in the kitchen, you couldn’t find it in yourself to run for cover. Maybe you’d screwed up your survival instincts at some point?

“y/n?” Lucifer croaked, his gaze predatory as it raked down your form. Something akin to a harrowed smirk cracked across his face when you shivered at the intensity radiating off of him, yet it was soon replaced with a pained grimace. His hands clenched the edge of the counter behind him so tightly that his knuckles were white as he ripped his gaze away from you. “I believe I explicitly told you not to return here until you received further instruction. You disobeyed me.”

You’d be lying if you said that the commanding growl in his words didn’t turn you on. Hell, if anyone told YOU that you’d just laugh in their face because damn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing you’d ever heard. Not to mention the electrifying effect it had on your body; it was as if every fiber of your being was on edge right now, acutely aware of every single thing that Lucifer said or did.

You found yourself longing to press your body up onto his, to entangle your hands in his already messy hair and mesh your lips together while you hook one of your legs around his waist to keep him close as he slams you up against the counter—

The purposeful clearing of his throat snapped you out of your imagination. It’s odd for you to have become so withdrawn from reality, but you just chalked it up to it being a side effect from whatever spell Solomon had cast on you. Anyway, Lucifer had asked you a question, and while it may not have been the smartest decision in the long run, you were in no mental state to be pulling lies out of your ass. “Mammon asked me to come over and help him.”

“Oh really? So you’ve discovered our dirty little secret, but still came?” he hummed in thought, more to himself than to you. Some switch must have flipped in him as he had gone from very obviously holding himself back to slowly stalking toward you with a wolfish glint in his eyes. It was at that moment that your survival instincts kicked in and you took two small steps back for every one Lucifer took forward. Sadly, you seemed to have walked further into the kitchen than you had originally thought you did and soon found yourself pressed along the center table with nowhere else to run from the demon in front of you.

A pink tongue darted out from his mouth, wetting the bottom lip that it dragged along. Lucifer had you right where he wanted you. It took a total of three steps for him to close the gap between you two, his arms resting on either side of you to cage you in. Desire flickered in his half-lidded eyes as he stared you down. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to be here?”

You hummed in response, too fixated on how alluring his slightly-parted, flushed lips looked. Due to your intense focus on said lips, you didn’t miss how the corners of his mouth quirked up before he leaned forward and out of your sight. Your breath caught in your throat as his heated breath fanned out across your neck while he spoke. “You’re lucky that you ran into myself and not one of my brothers. Unlike them,” his hips met yours and instantly began to slowly roll, “I can control myself.”

The hardness of his length and the waver in his tone seemed to suggest otherwise. 

A devious thought pushed itself to the forefront of your mind, one that you were all too willing to go along with. One of your hands ghosted down his chest, your nails lightly scratching his pale skin while the other snaked upward and caressed his cheek. Lucifer shuddered into your touch and bit back a quiet groan, his hips grinding against yours with a tad more urgency.

“What happened to being able to control yourself?” you asked breathily. With any luck, you’d be able to get his self-control to snap and he’d take you right then and there. Your thighs tensed slightly as heat shot to your core at the thought.

Then he pulled away and your entire mastermind plan came crashing down.

Lucifer stumbled backward, fingers pinching his nose tightly shut as he glared holes into the ground. Wait, do you smell or something? You could’ve sworn you had put deodorant on that morning. A discreet sniff of yourself reassured you that you did not stink, so why the abrupt stop?

“I believe that you should find Mammon in your room.” He staggered backward with urgency; so much so that he would have clipped his side on the counter had you not warned him. Pink dusted his cheeks for a moment as he cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed from not noticing the counter. Your bemusement was cut short, however, when he fixed you with a piercing look that sent shivers down your back. “I expect to see you in my room once you are finished.”

Unable to stop yourself, you quipped back, “I’ll think about it.”

“By all means, do,” he purred, red eyes narrowing into seductive slits. Even as he backed out of the room, sweat beads beginning to glisten on his forehead, he somehow still made you want to do nothing more than hand yourself over to him completely. “But let me assure you that the actual thing will be so much more enjoyable than whatever you end up imagining.”

With that, he was gone, and you were left with nothing but yourself and your newfound neediness. You had half a mind to chase after the first-born, but the other half of your mind was insisting that you go to Mammon, as he was the one who had called you in the first place. With a small sigh, you headed off down the hallway toward your room. It was a short walk, as per usual, but the anticipation that had once again began to swirl in your stomach lengthened it a good bit.

What, exactly, did helping a demon through their rut entail? You assumed that they needed help finishing, but was that it? Of course, you’d help the brothers out with anything, ESPECIALLY if they were in pain because of it, but it was a little unnerving not knowing exactly what you had gotten yourself into. Thank God that Solomon had been there to help cast a spell on you (which you still had no clue what it did, but you trusted him enough to believe that you’d be fine) because, now that you’ve had some more time to think about it, there was no way you’d be able to walk away from this little excursion of yours unscathed.

You hesitated outside of your partially opened door for just a moment before stepping inside and locking the door behind you. As you turned around to once again face the rest of your room, quiet huffing and groaning alerted you of the demon in the room with you.

The sight that blessed your eyes ignited a white-hot fire in your core.

Mammon was sprawled out buck-naked on your bed, your sheets and comforter rumpled enough to lead you to assume that he had been wriggling around on them for a while. As a surprise to no one, your eyes immediately zeroed in on his hand— namely, how said hand was loosely wrapped around his length and lightly jerking it. His caramel skin glistened under a sheen layer of sweat from his exertions, and his head was tipped back against your pillow as he chased a semblance of relief.

You mindlessly take a few steps toward the sight. Had he not noticed you were in the room yet? Considering how tightly his eyes were screwed shut and how his breathing was getting progressively louder, it wasn’t impossible.

“Mammon?” you called out hesitantly, unsure if you should be interrupting or not. Although, he had called you specifically to help him with this exact thing, so maybe you were worrying about nothing.

His eyes snapped wide open the moment his name came out of your mouth; he really hadn’t heard you enter then. A shuddering inhale shook his form for a moment before he pushed himself up to a seated position and said in disbelief, “You really came.”

As if you could ignore his phone call. You rolled your eyes as you finished closing the gap between the two of you, your hands lifting to cup Mammon’s warm cheeks. “I said I would, didn’t I?” Unintelligible mumbling followed that you silenced by pressing your thumb against his lips. “What do you want me to do?”

Without a word, Mammon’s hands gripped your waist and guided you onto his lap, your knees on either side of him. His hot mouth instantly found your neck, the feeling of his hasty kisses and the occasional nip stealing your breath away. Not staying in one place too long, the kisses quickly trailed their way down toward your collarbone, only for the fabric of your shirt to get in the way. Aside from his annoyed grumbling, Mammon didn’t make any comments about it and simply tugged at your shirt, wordlessly asking you to take it off.

Of course you complied (because why would you not?) and freed yourself from the now-restrictive fabric. No sooner had you wriggled out of your top than had Mammon’s hands begun to roam all over your body, almost as if he was attempting to commit your form to memory. 

Everywhere his hands went brought a tingling sensation to your skin. Eventually, one dipped low enough to fiddle with the band of your shorts, although it didn’t go any farther than that. As great as the makeout session was, a growing firmness pressing along the inside of your thigh and the unsteadiness of his touch reminded you of exactly why you were called in the first place.

“Mammon,” you tried, but your words fell on deaf ears as Mammon was too lost in the feeling and taste and touch of you to even register that you had spoken. Fog rolled across your mind as he found a particularly sensitive spot and capitalized on it, teeth gently scraping against the skin which was immediately followed by a soothing swipe of his tongue. Still, you found it somewhere within you to try again. “Mammon, wait.”

“Hm?” His lips buzzed pleasantly against your neck, eyes turning up toward your own.

Your stomach flipped at the sheer want pooling in their golden ichor. “I’m here to help you with your rut, but right now I feel more like we’re focusing on me.”

“Of course I’m focusin’ on you,” he harrumphed, a look of embarrassment shading his features. “You’re a human! There’s no way you’d be able to jump right on in without gettin’ hurt, so I’m… I’m tryin’ to warm you up a bit.”

You chuckled, running a hand through his hair reassuringly. “That’s awful sweet of you, babe, but I’m seriously fine. Solomon hooked me up with some magic before I came over, so I’m all set.”

His grip on your hips tightened at the mention of the sorcerer, but he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, his hands jumped from your hips to your shoulders, flipping you onto the bed with Mammon positioned between your legs. You’d never noticed it before, but his canines were slightly more pointed than a human’s; they’re all you focused on when a smirk crept onto his features. “You should’ve said somethin’ sooner.”

If before had been the warm-up, then the main event was the warm-up times ten. Your mouths crashed together, and you found yourself fighting to stay caught up with Mammon’s urgent pace. The bed creaked underneath the two of you as Mammon rushed to get the rest of your clothes off. It was impressive how he managed to slide off your shorts without breaking away from you, but you weren’t allowed to dwell on that thought for very long at all.

“You’re sure about this?” His breathless question warmed your heart. Even now, as his legs trembled with the discomfort he was surely in and his gaze grew hazy, he had the decency to make sure that you were sure. You hadn’t faltered from your original commitment once, but now you were certain you had made the right choice.

A cheeky grin split across your face. “I’ve never been more sure about something in my life.”

No sooner had you gotten the words out than had Mammon’s cock shoved its way through your entrance, his hips pressing flush against your own. The burning feeling of your walls stretching to take him in so suddenly proved too much to handle, your body arching into his own as a gasping whine tore from your lips.

For a moment— just a moment— he stilled, allowing you to adjust to his size. One of his hands hooked underneath your knee and pulled it closer to your side so he could get a better angle. A shot of pleasure ran through you as the repositioning briefly caused your muscles clenched around him. Seeing the shudder rack your form, Mammon rolled his hips into yours. Your head tipped back at the feeling of his swollen length dragging against your walls, and he wasted no time in leaving blossoms of orchid and rouge along the now-exposed column of your neck.

As your eyes rolled back at the feeling, you missed how he shifted above you, gripping the head of your headboard with his other hand for support. You didn’t miss how his hips pulled back and thrust up into you, nor did you miss how each thrust following that was just as strong.

Unrestrained sounds fell from your open mouth as Mammon launched into an aggressive pace that left you scrabbling for purchase on his shoulders or back so you wouldn’t hit your headboard. The moment your hands bumped into something protruding from his back, your eyes flew open to search for what exactly you had just touched. 

At some point, Mammon must have shifted to his demon form, as his wings were currently curling over the two of you almost like some sort of shield. Your legs squeezed together at the sight, allowing Mammon’s next thrusts to find your g-spot. 

“Fuck, Ma-Mammon,” you cursed, the demon on top of you growling lowly as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned before pressing a firm kiss along your jaw. “You’re doin’ so good for me, y/n.”

You answered with a keening moan, as you were sure that you wouldn’t be able to articulate any more actual words— not while Mammon kept plowing into you at this speed, anyway. Tension coiled tightly in your abdomen, each thrust drawing you closer and closer to your peak. You couldn’t tell how close Mammon was, but with as ragged as his panting was growing, you assumed he wasn’t all that far behind you.

With every passing moment, your body grew more and more flush with heat and your moans increased in volume, which Mammon encouraged with more whispered praise. One particularly strong smack of his hips against yours triggered the release of a loud whine from your throat, and you were sure you wouldn’t be able to last much longer. “Just like that, sweetheart.” His lips brushed tantalizingly against your ear, making sure that you heard him over yourself. “Let ‘em all know who’s makin’ you feel this good.”

A few more solid thrusts were all it took to make you unravel, your toes curling and your body arching into Mammon at the utter bliss engulfing you entirely. 

“Mammon!” you wailed, all other words escaping you as stars danced behind your eyes. Your walls clenching down on him pushed Mammon over the edge as well, his hips stuttering before pressing as deep inside of you as he could, release spilling into your throbbing core. A groan tumbled from his lips as his teeth sunk into the crook of your neck, the sharp stinging drawing a soft whine from yourself.

After a few moments of deepening his mark, Mammon flopped onto his back and rolled you on top of him, his arms wrapping tightly around your body to gently hold you against him. The bliss from orgasming was now wearing off and was being replaced with exhaustion. Tension seeped out of you in waves as you relaxed against Mammon’s heaving chest, his skin cool against your warm cheek.

Laughter soon met your ears, and the shaking body beneath you made it pretty obvious who it was coming from. Drowsily, you pushed yourself up to a sitting position and let Mammon slip himself out of you while you threw an inquisitive look his way. The eyes that met your own were no longer ones of a demon in rut, but ones filled with total admiration. “What are you laughing about?”

“You,” he answered simply, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear while his other hand rested loosely on your bare hip.

Your heart fluttered at that, but you played it off with a small smile and a tiny slap against his chest. “Why are you being so cheesy?”

He said nothing, only answering with another laugh as he leaned forward to pepper your face with soft kisses. His laughter turned out to be infectious as you, too, began to laugh, leaving the two of you giggling into each others’ mouths before he pulled away, resting his forehead against your own. “I’m just so happy you actually came, y/n.”

“Me too, I was starting to get worried there for a bit,” you snarked, the teasing lilt evident in your tone. Mammon scoffed at playfully rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as the corner of his mouth tugged up in a smirk. 

“Sure fooled me. You sure sounded like you were enjoying yourself.” Now it was your turn to fake being offended; you gasped indignantly before turning your head away in a fake pout.

“With this much disrespect, maybe I’ll just show myself out.” 

“Woah there, let’s not be too hasty.” A thumb and forefinger grip your chin and turn your head back toward Mammon, who had a peculiar twinkle in his eye. It was something warm and knowing and light, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it. The odd look didn’t leave when he pulled you against his chest for what felt like the hundredth time that day, nor did it leave when you tangled yourselves up in the other while you cuddled, just taking time to soak the other in.

Eventually, Mammon gave himself over to sleep, his light snores rumbling softly against the side of your neck as he unconsciously wriggled himself impossibly closer into you. You were just about to as well until two short sets of buzzes caught your attention.

Twisting around carefully in Mammon’s arms, you were just able to see your D.D.D. flicking off again after receiving the messages. Luckily, your shorts had ended up getting thrown onto your nightstand, so it wasn’t too much of a challenge to snag your D.D.D. from your back pocket without waking up the sleeping demon latched on to you.

Flicking it open, you saw that the messages had come from Levi.

come over please. I know your with mammon right now

I need help too y/n, please

You cast a glance over your shoulder at the said demon, guilt gnawing at your heart as memories resurfaced of how sweet he had been earlier; however, those memories were soon replaced with ones of Lucifer, disheveled and leaning into your touch, and of Solomon, warning you that you’d end up helping all of the brothers out. With a sigh, you tapped a quick reply to Levi that you were on your way and eased yourself out of Mammon’s arms.

As you got to your feet, you were surprised to find that you weren’t sore in the slightest, despite how rough Mammon had been. Solomon’s magic really was no joke. It didn’t take you long to slip back into your clothes (granted, you didn’t bother putting your bra and underwear back on because you’d just be taking them off again) and you soon found yourself staring down at Mammon.

You were still guilty about running off to go fuck his younger brother while he was sleeping, but at the same time, you’d feel even more guilty about only helping one brother and leaving the other six to deal with their ruts by themselves. Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment, you finally steel yourself and commit to your decision, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead before turning around and marching yourself straight out of your door. You don’t look back, because you know that if you do, the rest of the brothers would end up suffering through their ruts alone.

#obey me #obey me: swd #obey me mammon #obey me smut #obey me mammon x reader #heat!au #obey me fic #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

[yukiobeyme]

Diavolo, of course, wants everyone’s approval. A marriage between him and Lucifer would be a merging of their families, and even though Diavolo doesn’t have much of a family left... Lucifer has a big one.

So Diavolo asks every single one of them. Some, like Beel, Levi, and Asmo, are easy. Others are a bit more difficult.

Mammon agrees, but only after he puts Diavolo to the test. (How can you expect to keep up with Lucifer if you can’t keep up with the Great Mammon!) Mammon essentially drags him on a heist. It’s the most chaotic day of Diavolo’s life (which is saying something), but neither one of them get caught, and he passes with flying colors.

Satan is a bit trickier. Normally he would claim that he didn’t care (and in a way he truly doesn’t. Lucifer is free to date/marry whoever he wishes), but the opportunity to mess with both Lucifer and Diavolo is too good to pass up. He also puts Diavolo to the test. (You’re very bold, but how do I know that you’re telling the truth? Declare your feelings for him at RAD’s next assembly, and don’t hold anything back). And much to Lucifer’s eventual dismay, he does exactly that. That assembly is one that goes down in history, and videos of Diavolo calling Lucifer “his precious little peacock” take over the internet. Satan, of course, gives him his approval, along with the recording that he took of the entire thing. Diavolo saves it on his phone. (Satan got an excellent angle of Lucifer’s blushing face!)

Belphie is the hardest, event though he never gave Diavolo a massive task. The two of them sit down, and Diavolo tries to have a heart to heart with him. But Belphegor hasn’t changed, and refuses to listen. And in anger, Diavolo shouts his true intentions. (“I’m trying to ask you for your permission to marry Lucifer!”). The conversation comes to a hault. Belphegor is surprised that he was even considered. (“But why should that come as a surprise? You’re a part of his family”). Belphegor then asks him why he wants to marry Lucifer in the first place, and Diavolo answers with a passion and earnestness that only he is capable of. And surprisingly enough, Belphegor relents. (“I don’t like you at all. And that’s never going to change. But you really love Lucifer I guess, so you can marry him if you want”). Diavolo pulls him in for a hug, and Belphegor angrily shoves him away. But Diavolo doesn’t care, he almost has everyone’s approval.

There’s only one person left.

Simeon is perhaps an interesting choice, but he is (or was) a part of Lucifer’s family as well. Outside of Lucifer’s brothers, he is the only one who knew Lucifer before the fall. This is the closest that Diavolo can get to asking for a father’s permission. It’s also the most terrified he’s ever been. With the others, he knew what to expect, and he knew that he would eventually be able to win them over, no matter what. But with Simeon...

He doesn’t know what Simeon is going to do, or if Simeon will ever agree to it. Yet for Lucifer, he is going to try. And he’s never going to give up, no matter what.

~ s8ncake 💚🎂

Look I got carried away with this, but it just got me going and I couldn’t stop. This is almost 2k words of wedding/married life/ and kids rambles. I’m so sorry. (Also I don’t know-how adoption works so I just made something up instead of researching it so I’m sorry)

Mammon also reminds Diavolo to get used to it and he is more than welcome to join him the next time Mammon does it. Honestly it bonding time and more time to learning about Mammon and Diavolo loves and adore every minute of it.

Levi was weary of why Diavolo wanted to meet with him. Diavolo tried to start the conversation with Anime but failed miserably. Then Diavolo just gets to the point and Levi is surprised, “Why do you want my permission?” But Levi says yes, and he will get Diavolo all caught up on Anime soon.

Diavolo knew Satan was giving him this task to embarrass Lucifer but Diavolo made it a reason to remind Lucifer how much Diavolo needs him. Both as a student council member, as his right-hand man, and as his partner. Diavolo poured his heart into that speech and even had his heart on his sleeve. In private Lucifer would call him a sap and pull him in a breath-taking kiss. He watches the video of Lucifer’s reaction in secret, but he cherishes it.

Asmodeus is so excited! Immediately tries to start planning the wedding then and there and Diavolo loves the enthusiasm but reminds Asmodeus that Lucifer hasn’t said yes and it’s a secret. Asmodeus swears he won’t tell a soul but wants to be apart of the wedding plan. Already listing possible venues, colors, and flowers.

Beelz was easy, asking him over dinner. Beelz was surprised but not too much. Nods his head and definitely says dessert is needed to celebrate and Diavolo can’t seem to disagree.

Simeon is surprised but really impressed that Diavolo would think to ask him. Goes as far as asking Diavolo if he wants to ask Lucifer’s father or even Michael and Diavolo stutters. Finally landing on, “I would love to but, I don’t think that has what’s best for Lucifer in mind,” Simeon laughs at how hard Diavolo seems to be thinking over this. And gives Diavolo his blessing with no strings attached.

When it comes to asking Lucifer to marry him, Diavolo is at a loss. While Diavolo wants to do it in public and then scream it to the world, he knows Lucifer would want it in private and more intimate. So, Diavolo pretended to have an emergency meeting. When Lucifer came Barbatos had just finished setting up for tea and there were Lucifer’s favorite sweets and pastries. Diavolo tries not to be sappy but he loves the blush on Lucifer’s face and how he squirms in his chair when he gave praise but Diavolo ends the speech asking Lucifer to marry him. Diavolo's gold eyes are bright with hope as red eyes meet his. “Such a sap,” Lucifer would kiss Diavolo’s temple before pulling him in a gentle kiss. “That doesn’t answer the question at hand here,” “Of course I will”

Then comes the wedding planning and Lucifer is more stressed than Diavolo ever imagined. Lucifer doesn’t know what to do about best man. He couldn’t possibly have all his brothers so how does he pick. Thankful the brothers come to him saying to just pick two of them. Lucifer ends up picking Mammon and Satan. Both are more than surprised, Mammon recovers the quickest, “Of course you want the Great Mammon!” The only thing Lucifer requests is to leave any jokes/pranks to the reception.

Lucifer swallows his pride and eventually goes to Simeon and ask him if he would be interested in handing him off to Diavolo. That there is no pressure, but he thought he’d ask. Simeon would laugh and say this is the second time he been surprised by the couple. “What was the first”

“Diavolo asked me your hand in marriage,” Lucifer short circuits for a moment, “I’m pretty sure he asked all your brothers too,” Lucifer isn’t emotional about it or that’s what he tells himself at least.

Levi claimed to want to be the DJ, Beel wanted to be in charge of food and dragged Belphie to help him, Asmo ended up being the second wedding planner, working alongside the royal wedding planner. Mammon and Satan claimed to have Best Man duties. In some ways, the planning was going a lot smoother than Lucifer thought.

The wedding was at the Castle and more or less a public event. Diavolo promises a smaller one for just close friends later, but Lucifer says the big one will be enough. The exchange rings, Lucifer had picked a white gold ring, something that contrasted with Diavolo’s yellow gold. There was a single blue sapphire in the ring and engraved with My Beloved. Diavolo had picked a simple gold ring with a ruby that was set in the ring, with My Forever engraved on the inside. While Lucifer wore the ring during the wedding and the reception Diavolo had a final gift beside himself to give to Lucifer and that was a matching gold chain, so Lucifer could wear the ring around his neck rather than wear it. Day to Day basis Lucifer does wear the ring on the chain, but for any events, Lucifer wears the ring proudly on his finger.

While they are married, Lucifer still prefers his office in the House of Lamination, “If I were to stay, neither of us would get any work done,” He just required to be back before dinner and any work he needs to continue is done in the castle. Then Diavolo is started to be pulled in the brother’s/ family’s shenanigans. The first time he stayed over at The House of Lamination after being married to Lucifer was different. Instead of everyone being stiff and on best behavior, they were normal, or at least what Diavolo thinks would be more normal. Levi comes in late, mumbling about being tired, and “Beel did you eat my breakfast again!?” Beel was stuffing his face, but occasionally checking to make sure Belphie ate something before class. Mammon and Asmo already arguing who is better looking Diavolo tells them “The answer is obvious, it’s Lucifer” which has Lucifer blushing and both of the brothers arguing and dragging Diavolo in it with them. Satan just ate breakfast and watched in amusement occasionally throwing fuel into the fire to watch it all unfold. Lucifer just pinched the bridge of his nose and drank his coffee. “I don’t know why you are encouraging them,”

Diavolo is ecstatic the first time Satan and Belphie come to him and ask to help them prank Lucifer. “He thinks he is safe in the Castle,” Diavolo is all for it and now they come to him occasionally to help with a prank and Diavolo loves every moment of it. No matter what the punishment from his husband will be.

Levi kept true to his word and got Diavolo into a few anime shows. Some went over his head but others he really appreciated and understood why Levi liked it so much. And sometimes it turned into a marathon with the other brothers. Diavolo loved it, it finally felt like they all were a family.

Mammon even offered to take Diavolo on other adventures and heist and while Diavolo is always hesitant. He can’t truly say no unless he is busy. The lecture they both get from Lucifer is worth the shit-eating grins and laughs they shared to get there.

They talked about kids before, Diavolo for sure wanted them and Lucifer had always been on the fence. After three years of being married Lucifer brings up kids and Diavolo is over the moon with his excitement. Diavolo definitely asked what made Lucifer decide he wanted kids. Cue a very blushy Lucifer as he mumbles about seeing Diavolo with Simeon’s and Barbaros’ baby they had just adopted.

Diavolo sets everything up as soon as he could. They had decided they would want an infant/ young toddler. As they were led to the infant area, Diavolo turned to look at his husband and saw him a few paces behind them. Worried Lucifer had gotten cold feet, Diavolo walked over to him to reassure him they didn’t need to decide today. The words died in his throat when he saw Lucifer was watching two young boys, most likely twins, and a little girl.

In short, the boys were twins Darius and Lucas, and the little girl Lily. “We couldn’t possibly separate them, they are family,” Lucifer was serious as he watched over the children. And that’s how they ended up adopting three kids instead of just one.

Parenting was tough for both of them. Good Cop/Bad Cop was definitely a thing in the house and Lucifer always ended up being the bad cop. But Lily seemed to make a bond with Lucifer. To the point, most times it took Lucifer coming home/coming to her to get her to stop crying. Diavolo has countless pictures of Lucifer falling asleep on the couch with her laying on his chest fast asleep. Diavolo on the other hand was usually the good cop and the twins definitely tried to use that to their advantage. But neither would change it for the world, the castle was so much more alive. It was never as loud and lively when Diavolo was a kid. The twins had prince/royal lessons that they hated with a passion. They rather play as princes than study to be one. They would fuss about Lily not having to it, “She will start when she is older,” The uncles were definitely the twin’s favorite adults, both seemed to idolize Mammon, much to Lucifer’s dismays. Even Lily seemed to have a soft spot for Lucifer, “Much like her father,” “Shut it”

But at the end of the day, they had a huge happy family, something Diavolo was proud to show off. Especially with Lucifer by his side.

I’m going to cut myself off here. I could continue but I feel like I’ve added way too much and going off-topic.

#obey me dialuci #yuki writes #yuki rambles #someone take my computer away from me #Dialuci #Listen to me Lucifer and Diavolo would end up with more kids over time #like probably ending up with 5-6 kids #Simebarb makes an apperance #oops #s8ncake I love you #long post

[electronictimetravelmoose]

Five-maggedon

Warnings: angst, mention of suicide, lost of love one, apocalypse, mention of killing, gaslighting

Word Count: ~5.5k

Summary: What should have been a normal trip to the store ends with landing in an apocalyptic wasteland with a boy you never saw before.

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Requested by my lovely Honey aka my wife @satans-bae-and-queen 

A/N: Okay so my wife and I were at this for a while, if it looks shit I am very sorry. Fuck this.

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This wasn’t exactly how you thought your day would pan out.

Everything was ordinary when you stood up that morning. Your mom woke you and your younger brother at seven o’clock for breakfast, which went quietly and uneventful. Your father left for work at exactly 7:45 am as he always does, your brother was sitting in his room playing with the many toys he had and you started to study for school. But that got cut short when your mother asked you to get something from the store for her. It was the norm to send you when she was busy. Absolutely normal.

You changed out of your pyjamas into a pair of jeans and a sweater and soon you were out in the cold with additional boots and a coat. You were wandering down the snowy streets skipping a few steps once in a while on your trip to the store when it happened.

A boy the same age as you was wandering down that exact same street as well but not in the same time as you. Well not in that moment. 

Five was making his second jump from a sunny summer day to a snowy winter day. He was ecstatic from his own powers to jump through time so easily which only fueled his ego more. Five wanted to make another jump, a much bigger jump to prove to himself and his family that he could. He wanted to see how far he can get and rub it under his father's nose to show him that he didn’t need more time or training to do so. Five knew and saw that he was ready and capable of challenging this new ability. So Five started to concentrate when...

You swore that this boy dressed in a weirdly looking school uniform wasn’t there a second before but it didn’t make much of a difference now because when you collided with him everything around you started to turn and get blurry before you landed on the floor. 

“Shit.” , you groaned out in pain before you opened your eyes.

Shock washed over you as you took in your surroundings, your pain instantly subsided at your new view and panic kicked in. This wasn’t the street you were on a second ago, or that’s at least what you thought, because everything around you was in ruins. Everywhere you looked there was nothing left but the last remains of the buildings that once stood at their places. Things were burning and nobody seemed to be there besides you and that boy. Who was, by the look on his face, just as scared and full of panic as you were. 

The boy's name, who you can thank for landing in this mess with, was Five. He was part of The Umbrella Academy which you had heard of in the news. Kids, all born on the same day, with different superpowers who fight crime and save the day. Almost sounded like a bliss. His powers, as he told you, were jumping through space and now time as well and oh boy how he has proven that. He apologized for bringing you accidently with him and promised he would get you back home as soon as his powers would work again. You couldn’t do anything else but believe him for the time being and hope that he kept his promise in the end.

Time went on and you started telling him about you as well, only finding it fair as he told you quite a lot about himself and explaining how exactly his powers work. To the surprise of both of you there was a lot in common between you. You were both thirteen years old with only a few weeks in between, always learning and seeking to be the smartest in the room, the competitiveness you held and the both of you always having to adapt to new situations. 

Five in his training and struggling to be on his father’s good side at all times and you for attempting to fit in with your adoptive family, in school and overall life in general. And that was also something you had in common, being adopted.

A few days turned into a few weeks, then into a few months and suddenly a year has gone by.

You and Five were still stuck in the apocalyptic future with no sign in the progress of bringing you two back home. You still haven’t given up hope that maybe one day he would bring you back, but that hope was minimizing itself by the day. 

Were you angry about it? No. Maybe slightly disappointed but you thought that this all might have been faith bringing you here with Five.

It started a while ago that you noticed how close you and your companion had gotten and how deeply you felt about that boy. It made it hard for you to be around him which was only worsened by the questions and thoughts in your head. 

Was it because we two were the only ones alive, trapped together with no way to escape and no one else to talk to? Or did I really started to fall for that boy who always tried to keep me safe and us both alive? Who cheers me up when I am sad and helps me when everything gets too much…

Five was going through the same dilemma as you but with much more denial involved.

He couldn’t be in love with you! His mind was just playing weird and sickening tricks on him and his body was just starting to hit puberty. Yes that was probably it, puberty and his hormones playing crazy and his mind playing into it all with the idea of feelings but still… Everytime Five would look at you his heart would skip a beat and his stomach would start to perform the most ridiculous gymnastic moves known to mankind. It was baffling. 

To sum it up, Five went through all five stages of grief in that year with denial taking the most of his time. But when it started to subside anger took over. That anger was not directed at you but at himself and he started to bargain with himself. How could I be so careless and trap her with me in this hell on earth?! I was naive and stupid for thinking I could do this without proper practise and calculating the dangers of it and now she is stuck here with me and it is all my fault. I can’t let her live through this hell with me. I need to get her back even if it meant that I might lose her.

Then it seemed that the depressive aspects of the whole situation hit him and it hit him like a fucking train. I'm stuck here with a girl that probably hates me and is rightfully to do so. She had no choice but to get dragged into this mess with me and the only thing I can do to make it up is to keep her safe and bring her back someday. But she will also never feel the same for me will she? She will never reciprocate my feelings for her because of what I did. I want her to feel loved and keep her safe without it having to be a way to make it up. I want to show her all the time how much I care about her even when this is over.

...and finally the acceptance kicked in. Acceptance that he wouldn’t be able to bring them back in the near future, that she probably hated him but still stuck around to not be alone and that he was in love with his companion. Five knew he could live with that but the question was for how long until he would break.

But it wasn’t really the question when he would break but rather who of you two would break first… And it was you.

You and Five had found a house that was still intact enough to stay in for a while as it was that time of the year when it grew colder again. You had set your camp in the house a few days ago and it was now the fourth night there. In the living room was a chimney which allowed you to lit a fire and give some much needed warmth to the two of you. Both of you were sitting in front of it in a rather comfortable silence when those thoughts started to creep back into your mind and you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

“Five?” , his name bursted out of your mouth. Oh this will get weird.

Five looked over to you with a concerned and questioning look on his face. “What’s wrong (Y/N)?”

“Nothing really, I just… I need to tell you something and it will probably get really awkward between us afterwards…”

Both you and Five were afraid in that moment. You because you were about to tell him what your true emotion towards him were and Five because he was afraid what your next words might be. 

It was silent for a moment before Five swallowed the lump in his throat, that has seemingly formed itself out of nowhere, and spoke again.

“Well, go on then.” 

A sigh, a deep breath, you can do this. 

“Fives I have been thinking about everything that happened over the past year quite a lot lately and not only that but also what has happened between us…” 

All the color was simply drained from Five’s face in that moment. Where you finally going to tell him that you hated him and that you just wanted this ordeal with him to be over? Five didn’t knew what or if he could even respond to your next words. 

“...I think that this has all been one hell of a rollercoaster of events but I want you to know that I am not mad at you and that I don’t hate you in any way. It’s somewhat of the opposite actually, I ehm… I really like you Five. Probably more than just liking you.”

Silence. 

That’s all what came next, pain-staking and excruciating silence. Five just looked utterly and completely shocked at you which made anxiety creep up into your system and fill your body with uneasiness. Was it the wrong thing to say? Does he even feel the same? God did you make it awkward between the two of you now? 

If you weren’t so anxious, you could literally hear the wheels in Five’s head rattling at lightning speed, processing what you just said to him. It was like a miracle... After all what happened you didn’t hated him! You liked him! And according to your words more than just liking. So when you heard his next words you were just as shocked as he was before.

“I am in love with you, (Y/N).” Wait what?

Your mouth fell open in shock with a loss of words following it. That was not what you expected, god not at all! How could this be real? But then again everything that happened in the last year was absolutely surreal in your eyes so you didn’t questioned it. 

You attempted to answer him but your responds just wouldn’t come out of your damn mouth.

Five, who noticed the attempts and your upbuilding frustration, began to speak again with slightly tinted cheeks. “Can… Can I kiss you?”

Did Five anticipated to bring it out as confident as possible? Yes. Did he succeed? Absolutely not. It sounded more like a scared schoolboy trying to talk to his crush, which it kinda was if we are being honest here, but nonetheless it was out now.

You were baffled by his request and suddenly your voice was fully cut off. The only respond you could give was a small nod and a slight lean towards him. Getting your drift Five slowly leaned in towards you as well. It felt like an eternity before your lips finally collided.

None of you had kissed anyone before so ideas on what might come next were flooding your thoughts. 

Five was the first to start moving a bit into the kiss and when he felt that you were doing the same, the movements of the both of you became natural and grew stronger. The kiss turned sloppy and wet in a span of only half a minute before you both needed to part to take in some needed air.

You gazed into each other's eyes for mere seconds before laughter erupted from both of you.

“God that was so gross, but kind of awesome.” You laughed out.

“I know.” , Five said while grinning at you, “Want to do it again?” 

“Hell yes!”

Years pass by and you and Five change. You both not only grow older and more maturer but you also grow closer together. The time you spend together also came with a lot of obstacles. Of course it’s hard only having the other to really talk to and confined in so the arguments and fights didn’t take long to come.

Both of you were screaming at the top of your lungs again, no one really knowing how it even started anymore but sure to let out all your frustration that bottled up inside with it. These disputes were happening quite often lately, coming right out of the blue with no real reason behind it. Was it maddening that you didn’t seem to be able to talk normally with each other anymore? Yes, but that wasn’t a reason for a screaming match and you weren’t in the mood for dealing with it.

“I need a break!” , you exclaimed. You finally reached your breaking point after almost two hours of screaming in the face of your significant other. Again.

On your way away form Five you grabbed your field flask to take with you. Your throat was literally murdering you for what you put it through, again. Sometimes it seemed hopeless to try and talk reasonable with him.

Five didn’t even try to stop you from leaving because he himself knew that you both had to let off some steam so you were able to talk to each other again and apologize. It still hurted him tho, seeing you leave like that but he knew you would come back. You always came back. Which Five was thankful for even when he questioned why you would come back to him. He was cynical, an egomaniac and he always wanted to be right... But that was just how love worked for you. You fight, you talk, you forgive, you make it work because he was the love of your life and you were his.

But when you didn’t came back that night he knew he fucked up. 

God if that would have been the worst part to come...

It’s been a week since the fight Five had with you and you weren’t back yet. He had started searched through the nearby area the day after you went missing and after another two days he wandered further out but he found absolutely nothing. No trace of where you went besides the field flask you had taken with you from which only a few sips had been drunk. 

Five thought he was going insane not knowing where you were and if something had happened to you. Suddenly everything he cared about for the last 45 years, give or take some, was gone. Vanished from the face of the earth. He knew now the he shouldn’t have let you leave his sight but nothing happened the times before so who would have thought anything would turn out different this time.

Five had been talking with himself, trying to figure out a way to find you which only ended in despair but he would never give up on finding you. You were the most important thing to him in life and without you by his side there wasn’t much life in him left. But everything got worse when she showed up.

Five was contemplating his next steps when he heard rubbles that were being shuffled around, most likely made by someone walking on them. Since you had ended up there he was always on guard for the worst to come get you two, much to your dismay sometimes, so as of now his first instinct was to draw his rifle and point it in the direction of the disturbance. 

There a tall woman stood with bright blond hair, dressed in a black leather coat, sunglasses and a small weird looking hat. In her right hand she held a briefcase and with the left she waved at him. Who the hell was this woman?

“Who the hell are you?!” , Five screamed at the lady.

“I’m here to help.” , she answered him and climbed down the rubble to be on his level. 

“Tell me or I shot a bullet through your head right now!”

She ignored his outburst and continued talking. “Because” , she put the briefcase down and took her sunglasses off, “if you wouldn’t hear the offer I’m about to make you and you wouldn’t know what happened to your precious wife, which would be rather tragic giving your current circumstances.” She sat down on an high enough piece of debris and crossed her legs.

Five slightly lowered his weapon but still kept it pointed towards his opponent. He was shocked but stayed quiet as he wanted to know what happened to his (Y/N) and what this woman’s sudden appearance was really about. 

“As I have your full attention now… I am the Handler, I work for an organisation called The Commision. We are tasked with the preservation of the time continuum through manipulation and removals.”

“I don’t understand…” Five truly didn’t understand the meaning of this and the point behind her suddenly being here and telling him this. 

“You see, sometimes people… make choices that alter time. Free will don’t get me started. When that happens we dispatch one of our agents to eliminate the threat.”

Five raisedhis rifle fully at her again which made her chuckle. 

“No, no, no, no. You misunderstand me. You are not a target. You are a recruit. I’ve come to offer you a job, Number Five. We had our eye on you for quite some time… But only on you. But it was worth the time and we think you have a lot of potential. Your survival skills made you quite a celebrity back at headquarters. That and your ability to jump through time.” 

The lady in black took a drag from her cigarette while looking at him, waiting for a reaction.

Five’s mind couldn’t continue functioning and was stuck on four particular words the Handler had said. But only on you… 

“What did you do to her?! What did you do to (Y/N)?!”

She chuckled again and Five swore if one more chuckle or wrong word would come out of her mouth he’d put that bullet right between her eyes. He gritted his teeth while waiting for an answer.

“We did absolutely nothing, Number Five, it was all you.” All him? “You see after the little fight the two of you had she wandered around and lost track of her surroundings. She wanted to climb on top of a ruin to use the view from on top for directions but then it collapsed and buried her right underneath.” 

Could it really be? Five remembered that the night you didn’t came back something collapsed near your base. Was it a building perhaps? Wouldn’t have been the first time he would see or hear it. From the volume of the crash he presumed it was a few miles away but could you really have walked that far? Would you have walked that far when being mad at him? It was possible, after all you never really were the most careful one when it came to the danger of your surroundings. 

“You are saying that I… That I caused it?” 

The usual confident and mature tone of Five’s voice sounded like that of a child again, seeing and feeling the consequences of what he does for the first time. 

The woman nodded and took another drag from her cigarette. “I am giving you the opportunity to leave this place. Actually leave it. Even if it’s without your precious (Y/N). I’m sure she would want you to take this chance after being stuck for so long.”

She knew that her manipulation had worked. There was something you could see in his eyes. The desperation, the longing for his wife, the pain of losing her. You could see how he broke on the inside and that is exactly what she wanted. 

“I could actually leave here? Go… Go back?” But without you? 

Five stuttered out, too overwhelmed with the whole situation.

“In return for five years of service. Once your contract is done, you can retire to the time and place of your choosing with a pension plan to boot.”

But was that what Five really wanted? Being an assassin for some shady time agency and living without his wife?

“If you can alter time why not stop all of this from ever happening? If you can really do that then bring my (Y/N) back.”

“That’s quite impossible, I’m afraid. You see, all of this, it was supposed to happen. The apocalypse was supposed to happen. Your wife was supposed to die. It’s the order of things. I needed to wait until now to make you this offer because of her.”

“That’s insane. The end of everything? The death of my wife?” Five couldn’t believe what this woman was telling him and he sure as hell didn’t wanted to just take the death of (Y/N).

“Not the end of everything. Just the end of… some things. So...” , she made a small pause and sticks her hand out in Five’s direction, “...do we have an agreement?”

Five scoffs but thinks about it for a moment. His gun was already lowered and he looked around. He had spend so much time here but there was nothing left here he could hold onto with the love of his life dead under some ruins of old things that once were. Could he really just leave this place that easily, without you by his side? Would it be worth it? He knew you would have wanted him to take this chance.

He turned towards the woman again with his decision in mind…

You didn’t know what had happened or how you landed in this situation but it was maniacal and excruciating. You had woken up on a bed in a completely white room with no recollection of what had happened besides the fight with Five and that you had stormed off, mad at your partner and done with the whole situation regarding his ego. 

That was a long while ago in your eyes, probably have been two years at this point. Even if this time wasn’t as long as the time you had spent stuck in the apocalypse with Five was, it felt like an even longer time when the love of your life was missing from it.

They never told you what happened to him or why they had gotten you, only making you the offer that if you worked for them you would be allowed to leave to a place and time of your choosing. You hadn’t had much of a choice and took it as an opportunity to maybe one day be able to see life again. See Five again.

But the hole that Five left in you could never be filled again. He made an imprint on your soul and losing him without knowing what had happened drove you insane. Why wouldn’t they tell you? Why would they keep it to themselves?

 Sometimes at night you could still hear his voice ringing in your ears and see his face right before your inner eye. He was so close but you could never grasp onto him, it was torture. In those moments you couldn’t hold your emotions in anymore. Your whole body would start to tremble and the tears would flow like the niagara falls down your cheeks. You would scream your lungs out in agony and would always repeat the same thing. Why?! Why him?! 

All of this pain, sadness and absolute rage that was building up in you made you into a ticking time bomb, and the Commission knew that. Having you in this state of mind, in this state of despair and willingness to do anything could come in handy for special missions… And they didn’t have to wait long for that special occasion to come…

Five spent the last two years assassinating people and putting the time continuum back on track when it was disturbed. Letting this new found work consume him was the only way for him to even deal in the slightest with your death. It still felt like yesterday that he lost you and had to hear it was his fault. 

In moments were he doubted himself and what he was doing was morally correct he heard your voice in his head. Sometimes it were the fights that would start re-playing, when you both were screaming at the top of your lungs, voices filled with annoyance, anger and frustration directed at one another. Those were the hardest memories to re-live because the last time he spoke to you was after one of those god awful fights. He still remembered how your face was distorted by anger and sadness and oh how he wished he had the chance to apologize to you and make it right again…

Other times, rarer times, Five remembered the soft and tender moments with you. The once were you both were happy and would smile, laugh and were everything seemed to be alright. Oh how he loved your smile and your beautiful laugh. It was like art in his eyes and music to his ears. What a beautiful symphony... Nothing he had every experienced could compare to this. To you...

And he missed it, more than he could have ever imagined. The only thing he would feel was pain, neverending pain, and he let it out with anger and resentment towards the people who had saved him. According to Five’s opinion he shouldn’t have been given this opportunity, shouldn’t have been saved. You were the one supposed to be saved! You were the casualty of his wrong-doings! He should have died there in solitude for being the cause of your death.

But Five knew that there was a way to prevent this, to prevent everything that is going to happen and that already happened. To prevent you from seeing your untimely death… He needed to get back to the time before the apocalypse even happened and stop it from ever starting. Five was well aware of the fact that the possibility of you two never getting together was in the room when he went through with stopping it. The time continuum was a very complex thing and would get distorted very easily, you two would probably never be stuck together or even meet, but Five didn’t care. As long as you were alive and well he was ok with everything… You were his world and if it meant giving you up so you would be alright, he would do it in a heartbeat… 

There stood an old man at a fence with a rifle in his hand. This man had a mission and this mission was to kill the current president John F. Kennedy on the 22nd of November 1963 at exact 12:30pm. The target would ride in a presidential motorcade through Dealey Plaza in Dallas, Texas. 

This mission was an easy one for the trained man, or it should have been. The man knew that this would be the right time to start his plan, his plan in getting to the time before the apocalypse would begin and avert it. His employers never realized that he was just biding his time since the beginning and try to figure out the right equation for his jump… And finally he did.

So at last he broke his contract with them and started to concentrate in challenging his powers to travel through time once again. God when was the last time he used them? 

Loud whooshing noises appeared and his hands started to glow blue and produce an electric bluefield. A portal started to build up in front of him and he knew if he was able to get through it he could save all of them, save her.

The man made his first step and tried with all his power to force himself through…

Saint Petersburg, 25th of July 1904. 

This was supposed to be the last mission for the woman, she had never done anything like this before and she knew very well that they took her to do this mission because of her inexperience. But she didn’t care.

The target was the director of Imperial Russia’s police and later Minister of the Interior. His name was Vyacheslav Konstantinovich von Plehve and the reason for the Commission to kill him was that he seemed to always find a way to survive. He already managed to dodge three attacks and for the Commission it just was two too many times. It needed to be done for the sake of the future so here she was.

Everything was staged so it would look like the Socialist-Revolutionary Combat Organization finally succeeded in their assassination attempts, the only thing to do now was wait until Plehve ’s horse drawn carriage would come by and throw the bomb into it. An easy job with the possibility of dying. What else would you do on a monday?

It was hard for the woman to just stand there and wait, knowing that she was about to murder someone in the next five minutes, but was there really anything she could do? It was part of the deal, part of the contract she signed to do whatever they wanted. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves as best as she can, but still her body shook and her breaths turned shaky. Was this really going to happen?

The sound of hooves clicking on stone and the rattling of wheels being drawn over the uneven ground indicated that the carriage and therefore the target was nearing her position. The woman opened her eyes and gazed in the direction of the oncoming noises. This was it. This was the final moment. Her mind wandered and her long lived life started to flash right before her inner eyes. Most of those memories were of him and she knew that she would be seeing him soon.

With a last deep breath taken she reached back and threw the bomb. When suddenly everything began to spin…

Two figures hit the grassy ground at the same time. These two figures looked like two teenager who could not be older than 13 years old. They were a boy and a girl, both not being seen in ages but now back in a time where they should have belonged a long while ago. When both looked up and saw each other you could see a lot of emotions on their faces but the one that stood out the most in this moment was shock.

“(Y-Y/N)?”

“Five? Is that really you?”

Five had to explain to his family what exactly happened to him in the last few years, how he ended up in the apocalyptic future, that he tried for all those years how to come back and who she was. He never thought he would see her again after everything that happened within the last few years.

When everything was said that had been needed to said he took you up with him to his old room to have some privacy and apologize.

As soon as the door fell shut behind you, you two embraced each other in a tight and long awaited hug. Neither of you wanted or planned on letting go in fear of the other disappearing again. Tears were rolling down your cheeks and you couldn’t prevent a sob from escaping your lips.

“They told me… They told me you died and that it was my fault, (Y/N). I am so sorry for everything.” Five spoke out his thoughts first with a slight shakiness to his voice. 

“I-I thought you were dead too… The Commission never told me what happened… I’ve missed you so much.” You tried to hold back your sobs while speaking which you didn’t succeed in quite that well.

You both didn’t exactly know what to do next but for the time being, being in each other’s arms was enough.

#the umbrella acedemy imagine #five x reader #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves

[sophie-foster-26]

Some say, “if you kill a murderer, the number of murderers in the world stays the same.” To solve this, I would kill all the murderers in the world and then kill myself. Just kidding, i would lead the general public to BELIEVE that we are all dead, all the while brainwashing the other murderers in a top secret facility to follow my every command and cause an uprising which wipes out all of humanity. Then kill myself as well. I descend to hell. I have pleased Satan. He admires me.

And you may be asking, oh, but what happens to the world then? Well, obviously, the insects take over. The spiders try to rule, initially. But they are too disorganized, too divided. There are so many species of spiders, and they cannot understand one another, stripping them of their greatest asset, communication. The Cuban spiders cannot understand the German and Ukrainian spiders, and the domestic spiders which live in the average American household cannot understand the spiders from rainforests in Myanmar, who had to forage for food. The tarantulas cannot understand the harvestmen. They quickly form tribes with their own kind. These tribes soon die out.

Meanwhile, the ants have been forming and perfecting a universal ant language, and they, being the organized and quick thinking type they are, slowly rise to the positions of power. So discreetly, that no other insect even notices. No other insect notices that the rule of the ants has been more detrimental than beneficial to the general insect populace.

In hell, I have worked my way up to the top. I already had Satans admiration, and now his favor. I, knowing the plight of the insects above, politely request Satan to let my soul reincarnate as a murder hornet. He, of course, allows me to, as he is now practically the Tony Stark to my Peter Parker. I am reborn. I am one of them.

I was not born into a prominent family. It is ok. I make connections with those in positions of power. I make my way into the anthills of the monarchs, and give to them the same idea that I used to trigger the extinction of humans. They love it, and implement the idea immediately. Ants die out, and Satan does not do for them what he did for me. Ants are dead.

I then make other insects aware of what I have done for them. They all praise me for saving them from the ants subtly tyrannical rule. I become their queen. I am a wise ruler for over seven years. But they don’t know my secret.

I still have connections in hell. Currently, my daimons are mass producing bug spray by the fluid ton. I get them illegally delivered to my palace. I have daimons load them into pressurized containers to put in cannons. One fine day, without warning, I fire the cannons. Bug spray rains down, killing every bug ever. However, I am locked away in a special bunker which was created for the sole purpose of my safety, should the palace’s security ever be compromised. I then summon all the power inside of me, and resurrect every human that my mindless murderer minions killed years and years ago. I am their savior. They rejoice. I regain my human form. All is well until one day, the illegitimate son of two gay ants stabs me as I drift off into a slumber. Chaos ensues in my kingdom. My subjects have no purpose in life, which was primarily to serve me and cater to my every need. They all die from insanity, starvation, and disease.

My soul drifts back to hell, where I am given a grand welcome. My father figure, Satan, rejoices my return. Affection later. First, revenge. I find the soul of the ant who assassinated me. Although death was vital to the coming events of my scheme, and his actions certainly saved me some trouble. But murder is murder. I choose his punishment. He will deep fry in the blood of his ancestors for all of eternity. Now that that’s all set, I celebrate. But onto the next step.

Satan appoints me as his second in command, his right hand man. Inevitably, one day, I must take over the throne. I get Satan a nice house built just for him, out of the bones of his enemies. I will never forget his service.

My army of darkness commenced upward. We rule the above world. We are free. At last. Now that all semi-intelligent life has been eradicated from earth, we can wreak havoc in peace.

Or so we thought. Because the Venus fly traps are planning something, and it won’t be good for any of us....

#satans daughter #hail satan #hail me #ruler of hell #felt cute might take over hell later idk #spiders #ants #overthrow the tyr-ANTS #resurrection #guess who’s next on my hitlist #it’s god

[emberstoriesandtales]

Comfort of a Family (The Group x Fem!Reader)

Warning: Attempt suicide!

Y/N watched in silence as Abraham talked to Daniel and Andrew.

She felt bad that he had to make a choice about speaking out against Mary.

She then remembered the bible she found at the museum.

She began to realize that it wasn't Mary that was behind this all.

It was Carver.

"It isn't Mary that is behind these events. It's Carver, you have to stop him." She said stepping forward.

"That is way off Y/N. It's the kid we have to stop, no other way to do this!" Daniel angrily said glaring at her.

"Daniel calm down." Andrew said trying to calm their classmate down.

"Reverend Carver is a man guided by god. No one can doubt that." Abraham said before turning away and walking off.

When the three returned to the present, Daniel stomped over to Y/N angrily.

"Bad move there Y/N, standing up for the kid is what's probably going to get us all killed." He said as Andrew tried to pull him back.

"It is the reverend, I found his bible in the museum, it had satanic symbols in it." She tried to explain.

"What happened? You get a chance to confront Mary?" John asked as he, Angela, and Taylor hurried up to them.

"No, we never even saw her." Andrew said shaking his head.

"We met up with Andrew's double. He was thinking about testifying against Mary, but Y/N talked him out if it, blaming the priest." He said glaring at Y/N.

"Because his bible in the museum had satanic symbols in it. You must have seen it too when we were there!" Y/N said trying to defend herself.

"The hell Y/N!" Taylor shouted angrily.

"Nice move right there." Angela muttered.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" John annoyingly said.

Y/N felt tears fall as she ran of into the woods, away from the group.

"Y/N!" She heard Andrew call out, but she didn't stop.

When she was far away from them, she slowed down a bit to catch her breath.

As she was about to sit down, a hand grabbed her wrist tightly and she fell to the ground, landing in snow.

When she looked up, she felt her heart stop.

Her double was tied at the stake, Carver was there with a torch, glaring at her.

"Try as you will, but nothing will save you from the fate you are about to meet." Carver growled as he stepped closer to the piles of wood.

"You must burn!"

"Please stop, do not do this!" Y/D/N exclaimed before the flames engulfed her.

Y/N felt tears stream down her face as she faces her double's execution, not having anyone to comfort her at all.

When she appeared back in the present, she was instantly met with a burning pain on her back and arm.

"Gah!" She screamed in pain as she pulled away by whatever had a grip on her.

She turned to see her demon trying to grab her again.

Her demon was tied to the stake like her double was and it moved at a slow pace.

As it managed to get a tight grip on her ankle, she yelped in pain as she fell back, her head smacking against the ground.

"Get off!" She yelled as she tried to grab the gun in her pocket.

After struggling a bit, Y/N managed to grab the gun and aim it at the head and shooting it.

The demon hissed in pain as it let go of her ankle, which was badly burned along with her arm from where it first grabbed her.

Stumbling to her feet, the teen hurried off, trying to make a great distance away from the monster as best as she could.

She continued to run until she reached what seemed like the remains of a large house.

Deciding to take a break, she sat down on the porch, her heart racing in her chest.

Her arm, back, and ankle ached in pain as she saw the areas a deep red.

She cried as she gripped the gun in her hand.

She was alone.

She looked down at the gun, tears streaming down her face.

She could just end it all right now.

All it took was a single bullet through her head, then she could be with her parents.

She stood up from the porch and walked a bit away from the house, thinking about if she should just shoot herself.

The others hated her, so they wouldn't care.

Her parents have been dead since she was ten, she would finally be with them again.

She was never going to escape Little Hope.

"FUCK!" She shouted, her voice cracking from crying.

Bringing the barrel up to her temple, she felt her hands tremble as she set her finger over the trigger.

She closed her eyes and started to pull the trigger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Y/N!" Taylor shouted as the group searched for their friend.

After finding out that Carver was indeed the one behind it all when Daniel and Andrew saw the satanic symbols that Y/N mentioned, the five went to look for the teen.

"Where could she have gone?" Angela said in a worried tone.

"I hope..."

Daniel was cut off when the five heard a single gunshot in the distance.

Andrew's eyes widened when he remembered that he gave Y/N the gun earlier that night.

"Y/N!" He shouted as he ran off towards the sound of the gunshot.

"Andrew!" John shouted as the others ran after him.

Andrew felt his heart race as he ran to where the gunshot came from.

"Y/N!" He shouted as he looked around for his friend.

When he got to the area the sound came from, he saw drag marks in the dirt along with burnt footprints nearby.

"Andrew!"

He turned to see the others run up to him.

"Don't run off like that." John scowled until he saw the markings in the dirt along with the footprints.

"None of us had a fire demon, so that has to be Y/N's demon." Daniel said as he looked around for both Y/N and her demon.

"She had to see her double's execution by herself..." Taylor muttered, feeling bad for yelling at her earlier and making her run off.

"We have to find her now." John said in concern.

"But where could she have gone?" Angela said as the group tried fo figure out what direction she went.

"FUCK!"

The group looked in the direction where the scream came from.

"Y/N!" Taylor shouted as the five hurried to where they heard Y/N yell.

"Y/N where are you?!" Daniel called out, hoping to get a response from his classmate.

As the group got to the clearing, they saw the remains of a large house, and standing a bit away from the porch was Y/N.

"Y/N?" John said as the group walked towards her.

But she didn't hear them.

"Y/N?" Taylor said hoping she would hear this time.

But she didn't react to them.

"Y/N stop ign..." Angela started until she held something up to her head.

Andrew's eyes widened when he saw it was the gun.

"Y/N!" John shouted as he ran towards the girl.

He pushed the gun away from her head as it fired, grazing her forehead a bit, but not fully shooting her.

The gun flew from her hand as the two fell to the ground.

John wrapped his arms around her as Daniel grabbed the gun and threw it as far as he could.

"It's okay... it's okay..." John whispered as he rocked Y/N back and forth, comforting her as she sobbed.

Angela knelt down and saw the burns on her ankle and arm and her heart sank, remembering that Y/N watched her double's execution by herself.

Nobody was there to comfort her like with the others.

"We are so sorry about earlier." She said hugging the girl as well.

"Don't worry, we will get out of here." Daniel said rubbing her back as Andrew held her hand and Taylor placed a hand on her shoulder.

Thankfully they found her before she could take her own life.

They would never forgive themselves if she died.

The group decided to stay there for a minute to give her time to calm down, knowing that the night has taken quite the toll on the girl.

Taglist:

@seldomabsent @mrsfullbuster500 @foggyturtleknightangel @thefanficmonster

#dark pictures anthology #little hope #andrew #taylor #john #daniel #angela #dark pictures anthology little hope #little hope andrew #little hope angela #little hope taylor #little hope daniel #little hope john

[ofillyria]

I have been toying around with A LOT of WIP ideas recently and I’m not really sure where I want to focus my energy or which ones I want to add to my WIP list or make intros for. So I figured I’d make a masterlist of all of my ideas that I have a rough plot and character list for so y’all can peruse! If there’s one that jumps our at you, a few you like, or any that you have questions on please please flood my inbox! There’s no better way to get me jazzed about a WIP than to send me asks! I’m putting them under the cut since there’s so many!

NIGHT TWELVE: Vi crashes into enemy territory and is taken in by the army. She's given an assignment: win the heart of the wealthiest woman on the planet to procure war funding. But she's already fallen in love with her superior officer.

DAVID’S PEAK: In the small, Oregon town of David’s Peak people are being mysteriously abducted, and blame is placed on possessed park ranger Diane Atwood. She has a choice: prove herself innocent by finding the real culprit, or say goodbye to the friendly voice in her head.

YOUNG DEMONS: After failing her first spell Cecily Young swore off magic. Her power is building, brewing. The repressed magic is manifesting as a hurricane set to destroy Louisiana in a month's time. She must find a way to expel the magic in time, without tearing herself apart in the process.

THE GODLING TRILOGY: Lea is the firstborn child of Morpheus, making her the most powerful godling in a millennium. Which means she’s the perfect scapegoat for Zeus to send to do his dirty work. Including murdering the ancient being known as Nyx, who’s determined to plunge the modern world into eternal night.

BERSERKERS: Gal pals turned fearsome warriors. When the clique dons their fur coats they gain the strength of the animals they wear. It’s time for revenge on selfish exs, bigoted teachers, and abusive parents,. That is, if the consequences don’t catch up to them first.

THE BLITZKRIEG BREAKER: When Teddy’s clock repair shop becomes both the epicenter of a magical war and the London blitz, he is tasked with keeping a strange device out of the wrong hands. In a world filled with demon dogs, falling bombs, and a mysterious shapeshifting witch it’s hard to know which threat to focus on.

HELL’S EMPTY: Sometimes, the dead get restless. There are a few who manage to slip through the cracks and back into the world of the living. On autopilot, the soul takes the first available body and become a zombie. Over time the body, incompatible with its new soul, will begin to decay. Desperate to live, but falling apart, these creatures seek new fresh bodies to enter, even it means killing to get them. Luckily, hell, like any good business, has a lost prevention specialist. And she’s ready to go hunting.

WASTELANDERS: In a post apocalyptic wasteland, a team of two girls band together to fight to survive. When crossing the desert from ration station to ration station they encounter a man on the side of the road, he claims that his car was stolen with his young daughter inside. The two girls venture to find the lost girl in a no holds barred rescue mission through deadly dive bars, life or death road races, and russian roulette tournaments.

TRAGEDY ANNE: Anne,  a bandit known for terrorizing the rich folks of Round Rock, caught wind of the local mine owner’s plan to blow out the dam. Even if it means washing out Round Rock in the process. Anne wants to save her hometown but no one will listen to a lying, cheating thief.

SOUL: SOLD: Six years ago Jac sold her soul to a demon so that she could say goodbye to her mother. But now her contract is up and she only has a week before she becomes a demon herself. The plan: find the family heirloom, use it to barter with the crossroads demon, and avoid damnation at all costs.

AMELIA BRIGHT PETSITTER TO THE ABSURDLY RICH: Amy loves her job: nice houses, free food, and cute puppies. But when she’s accused of stealing jewelry from a rich client everything falls apart and her reputation is destroyed. She has to prove her innocence. Hopefully, before the super hot CEO she’s dogsitting for returns from a business trip.

THE TEMPEST PROTOCOL: Mira’s mission is to study the defunct pleasure planet which orbits a black hole. But the mission is overturned when the owner of the planet returns and kidnaps Mira’s team. Mira has to rescue her crew before they are all swallowed by the looming void or murdered by the psychopathic resort owner.

THE ELECTRIC PIGHT - Winona is an archaeologist that studies the fallen society of the 21st century. When her brother returns home severely injured, she’s determined to use old world medicine to save his life even if she has to travel for days to find it. But the way to the city of old is guarded by militiamen, cannibals, and rabid dogs. Winona’s attempt to save her brother and prove her theories right might kill her first.

WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD - Bee has been demon of the month over nineteen thousand times. She’s assigned a meager corruption mission and saddled with a newbie demon. Now, she’s determined to prove to Satan that she doesn’t need a partner. She has to find a way to kill her ‘husband’ without it looking suspicious. All while corrupting the perfect 1950s suburbia around her.

HELL FIRED - When one of the groundskeepers for the underworld goes on maternity leave her coworker has to find a suitable replacement. So they set up a reality show competition and the last person standing wins the role of right hand man to Hades’ right hand man. Which is sort of an honor.  

ARTEMIS AND APOLLO - Agent’s Artemis and Apollo have been working together for nearly twelve years. He’s the impulsive rogue and she’s the one who actually gets the job done. But now that she’s getting married he’s worried the agency will realize his incompetence. Instead of fighting it, he’s determined to make their final mission together the wildest ride possible.

FUN FUN AT THE BOARDWALK - Daniel works at the Santa Cruz boardwalk and knows for a fact it’s haunted. The giant stuffed animals have started to roam at night and recently, one tried to kill him. He has to round up a team to help him fight back but first, he has to make people believe him.

VIENNA - After being exposed to radiation from the sun an astronaut returns to earth to find that she is imbued with starlight. She’s recruited into an organization of mutants and tasked with rounding up others like her. But the more she uses her powers to render outside threats inert the more she risks burning out and turning herself into a black hole.

10 PERFECT DATES - Katherine Day’s website claims she can set up the most romantic date possible just for a small fee of $200. Rory, an investigative journalist, is determined to prove this offer a scam. So they buy 10 and ask Katherine to be the one to join them on these so-called ‘perfect’ dates. Rory thought this would be a disaster worth writing about, but the only problem is Katherine herself seems like the perfect person for Rory.

SOUL SEARCHING - A witch and her disembodied wife search for a body that can house the wife’s soul. The witch becomes a spiritual guide to people in comas, entering their minds and helping them through to the other side to open a space for the wife to have a body again.

CRITICALLY MISSED. After the death of David’s father he invites all of his childhood friends back to his childhood home for a reunion game of dungeons and dragons. When they start to fight they are interrupted as they are pulled into the game. The old friends are forced to fight off giant spiders, ogres, and long buried resentment. If they die in the game do they die in real life? And is an epic takedown worth risking your brother’s neck?

These ones don’t have titles yet so I’m just gonna give some comps so you get the vibe:

WES ANDERSON x THE HALF OF IT - Mindy’s life is going exactly how she wants. She has perfected her waffle recipe, a successful b&b, and no friends. But when her mom decides to get remarried Mindy is faced with the reality that the world goes on without her even when she constructs an eden for herself. So she enlists the help of a childhood friend to teach her how to deal with change.

STRANGER THINGS x PARANORMAN - Ryann drowned, and was resuscitated minutes after being declared dead. Now the kid sees ghosts: unmoving, unblinking figures staring at a singular location.  Ryann must discover why the spirits are back and what it is they want that’s in the Courthouse.

TOMB RAIDER x UNCHARTED - The Bloodright Chalice is the last unrecovered piece of known treasure, and Kel is determined to find it. With the help of a tagalong history nerd, she must fight off mercenaries, navigate perilous terrain, and withstand the draw of a magical artifact.

KICKASS x DAREDEVIL - Kimberly Price is trying to be the hero her powers deserve, but her moral ambiguity keeps leading her off track. Upon discovering an underground crime ring, Kim discovers her big break and that the mob boss, a mutant like her, can break any bone in her body with his mind.

INCEPTION x ARRIVAL - Dr. Parson has been having dreams recently of waking up next to a woman who he doesn’t know and she claims to be his wife. His new research partner on the particle accelerator is revealed to be the very same woman he’s been dreaming of since the beginning of the project.  He knows more about her than he should and it feels like an abuse of power, but he cannot help but fall in love, or rather stay in love. But how can he be honest when it would paint him as insane and ruin both his relationship with her and his plans for the project?

#writeblr #writers of tumblr #writblr #writing #allwip

[lux-i-fer]

Dunno if you’re still taking requests, but if you are (and have time!) perhaps a reveal whump to lucifers friends (Ella, Dan maybe) while he’s saving Trixie? I’ve just gotten this image in my head of Luci protecting the lil human like he protected Chloe in s3 final

Technically requests are closed but considering I got less requests than usual this time I think I can make an exception ;) If you like reveal fics that include Dan in the mix check out this fic of mine. There’s no Trixie but there is some whump! For this fic I didn't include an exact redo of the s3 finale but I did include some wing!fic similar to it.

EDIT: This came out a lot longer than anticipated and will also be put up on AO3

When the call came in Dan assumed the worst. Twelve witnesses claimed to have seen Trixie walking to a friend’s house after school. Ten claimed to have seen her get pulled into the back seat of an unmarked car. All ten witnesses had tried to save her and all ten witnesses had failed.

Dan’s stomach twisted when the evidence was laid out. Minus the witnesses, it reminded him too much like another kidnapping. He hoped, no he prayed, that Trixie wasn’t going to meet the same fate as April Tinsley had thirty years ago. Neither he nor Chloe would be able to live with themselves if their baby girl was found mutilated and violated in a ditch on the side of the road.

And as if the nightmare couldn’t get any worse, the LAPD had hit a dead end. Correction: the majority of the LAPD had hit a dead end, Chloe, on the other hand, was denying that they’d hit a dead end. 

Dan stole a glance at Chloe’s desk. It was covered with papers and frantic scribbles. Lucifer loomed just over her shoulder, and if Dan didn’t know better, he’d think that it was Lucifer’s kid that had been kidnapped. The man’s face was twisted into something that Dan had never seen before. His features were neutral, blank even, but his eyes burned with a fury that forced the precinct into a tense silence.

The wheeze of a printer made Dan jump. When he realized the noise belonged to Chloe’s desktop printer, he ran towards it. The message had printed by the time he got there. 

WE HAVE YOUR DAUGHTER. MAKE US A DEAL. 

Dan reread the message five times over. The second sentence didn’t make sense. Ransom notes usually included an exact amount of money, but this note read like a blank check. There was no amount, no location, and no indication that they shouldn’t contact law enforcement. 

Chloe didn’t seem to care how wrong the whole thing felt. She was already jabbing at her keyboard, trying to ping where the message had been sent from. Dan looked at Lucifer for an answer, but Lucifer wasn’t staring at the paper. He was staring at his phone. A shadow of disdain crossed over his face, and his frown deepened. If Dan’s heart wasn’t beating as fast as it was, maybe he would have commented on the sudden chill that swept through the precinct. 

“Excuse me, Detective, Daniel,” he muttered, hardly concealing his anger. Then he began to walk off towards the stairs.

Dan’s head whipped towards Ella’s office, where he knew she’d been spying on them for the past few minutes. He caught her eye and jerked his head in Lucifer’s direction. She nodded and grabbed her purse off the table. They headed towards the parking garage.

“We’re going to get some fresh air, Chlo’.” 

Chloe didn’t respond.

“We can take my car,” Ella said when they got outside. 

Dan grunted his understanding and five minutes later they were racing down the Strip in a vintage Thunderbird. Despite his head start, Lucifer wasn’t hard to find. His Corvette weaved through traffic oblivious to pedestrians and road signs, leaving a trail of car horns and near-miss accidents in its wake. Ella maneuvered around the damage expertly and without complaint. 

Fifteen minutes later, Lucifer made a hard right and banked into a group of warehouses. By the time Dan and Ella caught up, they found the Corvette haphazardly parked with the key still in the ignition. 

“If I had to guess, I’d say Lucifer’s in there.” Ella gestured to an access door nearly ripped off its hinges. 

Dan unholstered his pistol. “And if I had to guess, I’d say the kidnappers are in there too.” 

They crept into the warehouse, Dan in front and Ella just behind him, gripping the bottom of his jacket. The few lights that hadn’t been busted out were flickering, almost as if there was a short in the wiring. Shafts of dusty sunlight filtered in through the shattered window panes and cut through the places where the flood lights didn’t shine. Shipping crates and wooden pallets lined the perimeter of the room, and as soon as they could, Dan and Ella ducked behind them for cover. 

They’d walked a few hundred feet when suddenly, Ella shoved him down to the dirt floor. “Get down.”

He went down soundlessly. Next to him, Ella was typing something out on her phone. When she was done, she turned it towards him.

I’m texting for backup it read. 

Dan moved to grab the phone and typed out a message of his own: make sure they know to stay quiet. We don’t want to spook them.

Ella nodded and took the phone back to start typing out her message. When she was done, Dan army crawled towards the voices. The voices got louder and more distinct until finally he could make out what they were saying.

“Look we ain’t the bad guys here. You want your daughter and we want what belongs to us, alright?” a voice said from the other side of the shipping containers.

“One, Beatrice isn’t my daughter. Two, I don’t know what you want, you haven’t told me.” 

Dan barely managed to stay quiet. That was Lucifer’s voice. 

“I thought Lucifer Morningstar didn’t lie.”

“I don’t. Tell me what you want, and I’ll arrange its arrival if and only if you let Beatrice go this instant.”

Dan flinched when he heard the sound of a fist hitting flesh. He crawled a few more feet and managed to find a gap in between containers that he could see what was going on. 

Lucifer sat handcuffed to a metal chair, surrounded by five hulking goons. Each man had a rifle strapped to their backs and handguns on their waistbands. A sixth guy stood parallel to them, holding a gun to Trixie’s head. Dan gulped and tried to keep his breathing under control. 

The man holding Trixie spoke, and Dan realized it was him that had been making demands earlier. “We know what you are, Satan.”

“Then you should know exactly the kind of torment you can expect to receive when your miserable excuses for souls cross the threshold.”

One of the five henchmen punched Lucifer in the gut. It was a shock when he barely even flinched. Then, the henchmen drew out a curved dagger that Dan could have sworn he’d seen before.

“This,” the leader explained, “can kill you, Devil. We have sources that tell us it was forged in Hell.”

Dan didn’t need to see his face to know that Lucifer was at least a little surprised. “And, pray tell, how did you come across this weapon?”

The leader jabbed the barrel of the gun into Trixie’s temple, causing her to whimper. “Your daughter’s backpack.”

“I’m sorry Lucifer, Maze gave me one for emergencies,” she said in a wobbly voice. 

The man slapped Trixie. “Quiet!” 

Dan’s blood boiled, and if the tension in Lucifer’s shoulders were anything to go by, so had his. 

A low, predatory growl rose up from Lucifer’s throat and Dan could have sworn the ground trembled from its intensity. “I’m afraid that was the wrong decision.”

The leader smiled crookedly and shot the henchmen holding Maze’s dagger a look. In one swift movement, the man rammed the blade into Lucifer’s thigh. The only sound Lucifer made was a soft hiss, as if all of the air was being sucked from his lungs. The henchmen slammed his open palm down next to the blade and only then did Lucifer scream in pain. The henchmen removed his hand from Lucifer’s thigh and turned it up so it caught the light. It was stained dark crimson.

The leader laughed in disbelief. “It looks like the big bad Devil isn’t so macho after all.” He shook Trixie’s shoulders. “I wonder if he’ll cry if we shoot his girl.”

In that moment, Dan didn’t even think. He fingers flicked off the safety and fired off a round. The next thing he knew, the leader was falling backwards, and Trixie was falling with him. The five henchmen drew their handguns. Dan barely registered Lucifer snapping the handcuff chain, but he was up and stumbling out of the chair with a cry of pain before he could blink. He watched in horror as Lucifer ripped the blade out of his thigh and began racing towards the group. 

Dan glanced back at Ella, and their eyes met in the darkness. An unspoken agreement sparked between them. Dan cocked his gun just as Ella let out a bloodcurdling scream. Lucifer and the henchmen whipped towards the scream and Dan took another shot. A henchman crumpled to the ground.

What happened next was something Dan couldn’t explain. For a brief second, everything came to a standstill and then it erupted into chaos. He lay in the dirt, dumbfounded. Two white wings, flared from Lucifer’s back. Dan watched as he lunged for the remaining henchmen, dagger in his right hand and his left balled into a fist. He looked every bit the avenging angel from the scripture and Dan couldn’t have been more terrified.

He swallowed his fear and flicked his safety back on before sliding the gun to Ella. Then he made a break for Trixie. Gunshots when off around him, but Dan didn’t stop. He saw Trixie rooted to the spot, shirt stained with her kidnapper’s blood, and ran faster. More screams rose up into the air, but none of them belonged to Ella. 

Dan didn’t stop running when he reached Trixie. He just leaned down, and scooped her up by the armpits and flung her over his shoulder and kept going. He didn’t stop moving until they were safely behind a shipping container on the opposite side of the building.

He set her down to look at her face. “Are you hurt, monkey?”

Trixie shook her head.

“Does your face hurt?” He touched the red hand print left over from where the leader had slapped her. She flinched away from his touch. 

Opened his arms, inviting her to hug him. “Come here.”

Trixie went and they stayed wrapped up in each other until the screams and gunshots were no more.

“You can come out now, Daniel, Ms. Lopez, they won’t be harming anyone now,” Lucifer’s voice cut through the silence.

Slowly, with Trixie still in his arms, Dan peered out from around the container. The scene that greeted them almost made him sick. Lucifer was coated in blood from head to wingtip. The dagger in his hand hung limply at his side and what looked to be bullet holes riddled his clothes. Loose, mangled feathers littered the floor and coated the stiff bodies of all six kidnappers. Across the room, Ella was making her way to the center of the room, eyes wide. 

Dan met Lucifer’s eyes, and was surprised to find that they were blazing red. 

Slowly, he got to his feet and crept towards Lucifer, the actual Devil. The closer he got to the bloodied man, the more obvious it became that Lucifer wasn’t in good shape. His breathing was labored and his wings were trembling feverishly.

“It’s alright, I won’t hurt you either.” Lucifer closed his eyes and sucked in a ragged breath. There was a sickening squelch and the crimson-stained white wings receded back into Lucifer’s body. The effort forced him to brace himself against his knees. After another breath, he righted himself and opened his eyes. They were brown.

“You’re not a method actor,” Ella said softly. 

Lucifer gave a heartless chuckle and shook his head. 

“But you saved Trixie,” Dan said, holding his daughter tighter.

“Beatrice is innocent. Even though she’s clearly not my spawn, a child should not pay for their father’s sins.”

For some reason, hearing Lucifer call Trixie spawn was relieving. He shifted Trixie to his hip so he could reach out and grip Lucifer’s shoulder. The man swayed under his grasp and when he matched Dan’s stare, his eyes were glassy. “Thank you,” he said fiercely. “You don’t know how much it means to me that you did that for her.”

Ella gave Lucifer a light pat on the arm. “Yeah buddy, that was pretty heroic of you to come in here alone. Super dumb, but I’ll give you credit for it anyways.”

Lucifer tried to flash one of his signature smiles, but all he could manage was a weak grin. “You’re not frightened?”

Dan squeezed his shoulder and gave it a small shake. “Dude you saved Trixie’s life, why would we be scared?”

Lucifer opened his mouth to respond, but just then half of the LAPD burst into the warehouse. Leading the pack was Chloe, gun drawn and eyes wild. When they fell on Dan with Trixie and then on Lucifer and then Ella, she let out a small cry of relief. She rushed towards them, holstering her gun as she went. 

“Are you alright, baby?” She cradled Trixie’s face with a trembling hand.

Trixie could barely lift her head off Dan’s shoulder. “Yeah,” she whispered tiredly. 

Chloe looked to Dan for confirmation. 

“She’s a little bruised and a little scared, but that’s it,” he told her. Chloe’s eyes swept over them once more before she turned to Lucifer, who was beginning to look paler and paler. Seemingly not caring about the blood, she wrapped him in a hug. His arms weakly went around her waist.

“Don’t do that ever again, you dumbass.” Chloe pulled away to look into his eyes. “Why didn’t you wait for backup? We would have helped. I just turned around and all three of you were gone and then I get this text from Ella demanding backup with an address. I thought you might have been dead or worse, Lucifer.” Lucifer just shrugged and Chloe pulled him to her again. “I’m so glad you’re safe.” She finally let go of him and turned towards Dan and Ella. “I’m so glad all of you are safe.”

Behind her, Lucifer was swaying. Dan was about to say something, but before he could, he watched as the Devil’s eyes rolled in the back of his head and he collapsed into a heap on the floor. Chloe and Ella sunk down to try and revive him.

“We need a medic over here!” Ella called to the group of officers looking at the six unconscious bodies of the kidnappers.

Dan watched as a paramedic rushed over and helped Chloe and Ella secure Lucifer onto a stretcher. He watched as Satan himself was whisked away towards the ambulance undoubtedly parked outside and thought to himself about how odd it was that he felt more at ease in LA than ever before.

#ask #sororia04s #my fics #Lucifer Morningstar #lucifer on netflix #deckerstar #fanfic #whump #guess what state I live in based off of my true crime knowledge

[innuendostudios]

We hit 200k subscribers! Holy heck! Here’s a small, celebratory video collecting my favorite bits and pieces that got cut from other videos.

If you like this, or the videos these bits were removed from, consider backing me on Patreon.

Transcript below the cut.

The Artist is Absent

If I tell you about what I did yesterday, you do what? You take a bunch of sights, sounds, tastes, smells from your experience and stick them together in your head into a complex picture of my experience? Well, that’s what I’m doing when I use my memory. I don’t have a prefab image of what’s happened to me in my life that I break down into pieces when I describe it to you; the act of remembering is building up from pieces, reconstructing reality from a mass of tiny sensations, and all a memory is is a set of instructions for which ones to assemble and how. This act is performed every time a thing is remembered. And the difference between my memory and your imagination is that, having lived it, I have way more sense memories than I could ever communicate, and the knowledge that mine actually happened to me. Those are really the only differences; you could characterize memory as “imagining things that actually happened,” or imagination as “remembering things that didn’t.”

The Artist is Absent 2

OK, quickie sidebar on what the meaning of “meaning” is in this context. I don’t want anyone to trip over this term and think I’m saying all art is part of some grand design, like I’m going to argue The Avengers is an allegory for the Bay of Pigs or something. I’m not using “meaning” in a lofty sense. If you wanna argue that the only substance to The Avengers is “it’s fun,” that’s cool. That’s still a meaning, but it’s perfectly valid if that’s all there is to it.

...I mean, that’s not all there is to it, it’s also about family, and about how being in a family with people who are different from you can make you a better person. It can teach you the value of selflessness, or the value of compassion over mercenary coldness, or the value of accepting yourself and your flaws, or help you fit your idealism into the modern world, or… deliver exposition, because Thor doesn’t have an arc in this movie.

But you see my point! All I mean by “meaning” is that there is an answer to the question, “Why does this exist?” If someone made it, they had to have a reason, anything from “I wanted to change the world” to “I wanted to make money” to “I was bored.” Those aren’t all great answers, but they’re answers.

Also, all creators exist within their culture, which means their works are products of that culture, and their contents will either reflect or differ from that culture’s values. Like, the fact that all the central characters in The Avengers save one are white, and all save one are men, means something. We can debate the whats and wherefores of that meaning and how much that meaning matters, but since things like race, gender, the military, and New York City, mean things to our society, they can’t not mean things in our movies.

And, let’s be honest: following The Avengers, Tony has PTSD from being a rescue worker during Something Very Bad that Happened in New York, and SHIELD dramatically expands the surveillance state and employs Cap in fighting terrorist threats, so, while not the Bay of Pigs, The Battle of New York is doing work as a 9/11 allegory. Both of these movies have been praised for exactly that.

But, let’s follow through: in our 9/11 allegory, the US government could not have possibly predicted nor prevented the bad Guys’ invasion, America is wholly innocent and has had no political or social impact on the Bad Guys, the Bad Guys are literally inhuman, and any amount of violence against them is justified, up to and including the Good Guys nuking them.

But whatever.

Bringing Back What’s Stolen

OK. A lot of psychoanalytic film writing comes from the 70’s, 80’s, and early 90’s, including gender analysis of horror films, and it can read a little Freudian: gender essentialist, heteronormative, and obsessed with the D. “Does this empowered woman look feminine? Well, she’s holding a gun, and I’ve got news for you: guns are penises. She’s smoking a cigarette, and cigarettes are penises. She’s wearing high heels, and high heels are penises. That slit in her dress that shows off her long legs? [Long Legs Are Penises]”

It’s a bit Second Wave-y. And not completely off-base! Like, I get it, Laura, sometimes a knife is a dick. (Symbolically, I mean.) But sometimes a stiletto is just a stiletto.

Bringing Back What’s Stolen 2

I want to stress that a trope does not define a character, and does not, alone, make her or the movie around her bad. I love a number of the characters I’ve cited. But when a movie, even a great movie, tells me, “Don’t worry, this woman is violent, but we’re not saying women at large are as strong or violent as men,” I feel condescended to. The lengths some movies go to soothe my ego, like I’m a seven-year-old who’s going to throw his toys against the wall, strike me as a big waste of time that could be spent on the more interesting parts of the movie. I’ll take another shootout any day.

WSGT3

Imagine you’re called onstage to do a cold reading of a two-person scene from a play you’ve never read. You don’t know the story, the characters, or even the stage directions. And the director hands out only one script to the other actor. You will have to improvise all your lines. The other actor knows the premise, knows the story, but they still need you to make the scene work. The person who knows what happens is trying to signal everything you need to you without straying from the script, while you attempt to discover your role in the story and perform it at the same time. That is the attention that must be paid. And, together, you try to make a story.

This is an exercise my acting teacher used to do with us, to get us listening to the other actors in a scene instead of just waiting for our cues. And this is how an adventure game feels.

DOOM

It was 1993, and we all knew about DOOM. It had a reputation. Many of us learned it existed with the same breath that forbid from playing it, in the same way we were forbidden from watching Beavis & Butt-head or Terminator 2. We didn’t have those kinds of parents. But most of us knew someone who did.

We came to learn three things about DOOM: that was intended for grown-ups, that our access to it was scarce, and that having not played meant getting teased by those who had. Some of us never asked if playing it interested us, we simply knew playing it was important.

And when we played - and we did play, on whatever computer someone had secreted the shareware version onto - it was like nothing we’d ever seen before. Amazing and terrifying, in the way that a kid alone in the house watching their first skin flick finds it shocking, because half-naked women and simulated sex are so far outside their limited experience. We had never seen anything close to this, and it unsettled us at first. But we played.

The titillation of an art student drawing a nude model lasts for the few moments between the dropping of the robe and the touching of charcoal to paper. Then nakedness becomes just another series of lines to render. We acclimated. When we fired our shotguns into an enemy, soon enough all we saw was an obstacle neutralized. We saw a series of lines elegantly intersecting a series of boxes. That’s not what our parents saw. Our parents saw an imp howling in pain as its ribcage burst from its chest.

And so part of playing DOOM became learning how to defend it. “I play DOOM for the gameplay” became a generation’s “I read Playboy for the articles.” When we got caught, we tried to explain the the lines and the boxes: The bullet wounds were just there to let you know when you’d hit your target. The space marine’s bleeding face was just there to tell at a glance how your health was doing. The enemies were Satanic hellspawn just to make it perfectly clear their function was to be dispatched by your shotgun. What we wouldn’t say was that all these things could be accomplished through other means, without blood, but we didn’t want to play Chex Quest.

What we couldn’t put into words, most especially under threat of punishment, was that, while the blood and gore wasn’t why we wanted to keep playing, it was usually why we sat down in the first place. DOOM was good, but being good wasn’t what made it important; it was important because it was illicit. Yes, we were kids, and we probably would play a game that offered us nothing but brutal violence, but if the lines didn’t pleasingly intersect the boxes we would soon stop playing. DOOM is loved today because there was more to it than that. Blood was captivating, but it wasn’t enough - we sat down, but we did not stay, for blood alone. What our parents could rarely put into words was that us no longer seeing the blood was part of what worried them.

Indivisible Talk

These are some fundamentals I want you to keep in mind as we look at the Right.

Everybody’s people. When I talk about the difference between the Right and the Left, I’m not saying “the Right does this and the Left does that.” I’m talking about things all humans do, and the difference between the Right and the Left is a matter of scale and proportion. If I say “the Left values data over gut feelings” or “the Right values family over extended community,” obviously everyone values all of those things. It’s a question of how they’re prioritized. But small differences in our priorities can lead to dramatically different worldviews. So when I say “the Right does X,” don’t get too hung up on whether the Left also sometimes does X, but try think about how it manifests on the Right versus the Left and what those differences between them mean.

People vote their beliefs, not their self-interest. The Left tends to ask things like, “Why would working-class voters who depend on Obamacare vote for the party that wants to repeal Obamacare? They must have been lied to.” And I won’t deny that a lot of lies were involved, but it’s a mistake to think people only vote for what’s good for them. It seems like this should be obvious; I mean, why do I vote to have my taxes raised to pay for someone else’s education, someone else’s food stamps? We tend to answer that by arguing it is in my self-interest, that a well-fed and well-educated population leads to a stronger economy and a richer culture, and that this will trickle down to make my life better in the long run, and I could make that case, but, really, that’s not why I do it. I believe in education, I believe in fighting poverty, and if you proved to me that neither would ever benefit me personally, I would still fight for them, because it’s the right thing to do. So when someone across the political spectrum does something that confuses us, it may be true that they are misinformed, but we can’t assume that simply correcting them will change their minds. Right or wrong, they are acting in accordance with their beliefs, they trust misinformation because it aligns with those beliefs, and, if you don’t understand what those beliefs are, you’re going to misdiagnose the problem.

Tolerance and sectarianism. A tolerant view of society is the melting pot, the idea that Real America is the combination of many different walks of life, all of which are valid and deserving of the same rights. A sectarian view thinks of one walk of life (usually one’s own) as the Real America, and this walk of life is one society should trend towards: that America is a Christian nation, English should be the national language, or the ideal family as nuclear and heterosexual. I think it’s obvious which ways the Parties lean.

But, again, these are human traits. Everyone is balancing both these impulses every day. And I don’t want us to split these into “tolerant good, in-groups bad.” Democrats who over-commit to the melting pot run into the Karl Popper’s Paradox of Tolerance: that, if you treat every group as equally valid, including Nazis, fascists, and the Klan, you create a less tolerant society. And treating one group as a greater priority than others is logical when that group is persecuted; there is a degree to which all minority activism is defending one’s family. So it’s a matter of knowing when to be tolerant and when to be familial, and coalition-building is all about being both at the same time.

End

Um. So. I’m not sure how to end this. Uh. 200k subs! Wow! I find that number very humbling. Thank you all so much. And back me on Patreon, if you want to and if you haven’t already. There’ll be a proper video soon. Uh. What do people usually do in these things, they do Q&A’s, right? People ask you “what’s your favorite movie, book, game, comic, anime, musical, poem, album, joke”? I’ve been wondering what it says about me that all my answers would be things I experienced in my 20s, or earlier. Is it that I don’t love things the way I used to? Or is it just that, the more art you experience, the harder it is to be blown away? Like, something can be better than anything I’ve seen before, but it can’t shatter the record the way it could when I was younger. But I’m not making a video essay about that, so: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, The Motion of Light in Water by Samuel R. Delany, LOOM, Sandman, The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, Hedwig and the Angry Inch, A Woman is Talking to Death by Judy Grahn, a three-way tie between In The Aeroplane Over the Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel, Lincoln by They Might Be Giants, and Onomatopoeia by Jonny 5, and the lemon cookie joke.

#video essay

[imacrowcawcaw]

@oblvions @shes-outta-sight @lazingonsunday @karrotkate @satans-helper thank you all for the tags 💗💕

A buttload of info about me:

Last thing I read: "Lovers" by @satans-helper 😍😍😍

Favorite Book: The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle

Favorite Movie: Beetlegeuse

Dream Date: Imagine this: a nice, plush couch, covered in down pillows and fluffy blankets. There is a fire in the brick fireplace, the wood smoke combines with the scent of Nag Champa incense and the homemade treats that cover the low table next to the couch. There are brownies, bread rolls, cheeses, bowls of fruit, dipping sauces, cakes, sandwiches - a whole feast of my favorite foods. My partner and I would cuddle up on that couch, listening to my favorite symphonies on the record player in the corner and talking for hours. This isn't really a first date thing, more like an established relationshil date, but god I'd love to just spend an afternoon surrounded with my favorite things and my favorite person.

Do I have a crush?: Not really. There are people I find very very attractive (a friend, Sam Kiszka, Duff Mckagan in his 20s, Lucy Lui) but nobody that I'm actually romantically and sexually into.

Hobbies: Swimming, observing nature, browsing Pinterest, daydreaming, writing, reading, making art, singing, listening to music, love to cook

My favorite time of day: late afternoon, right before the sun sets. I'm usually free to do what I like, the temperature starts to drop, I can watch the sun... it's nice

If I could choose what I looked like, anything, what would it be?: I want tattoos, and more piercings, I'd love to change my hair color again - it's been natural for awhile but I think I want either burgundy or bright blue. WINGS! I kind of want giant, strong fairy wings, and maybe glowing eyes, a forked tongue, and tattoos that move and change (kinda like Maui lol)

Am I romantic?: Yeah, I'd say I am. I love to treat people, friends and significant others, but I'd be especially affectionate and romantic for a partner. I'm constantly buying gifts and things that remind me of them, cooking for them, planning dates and buying tickets for things I know they like, quietly taking care of stuff I know they need to do, cuddling, complimenting... I love to shower my partner in affection 24/7

My favorite kind of weather: Late Autumn, generally. About 55ºF, cloudy but not raining, windy

What do I like to talk about?: Lol I talk a whole lot and I've probably talked about everything at some point. One of my close friends and I particularly love to debate religion, mythology, magic, history, and the intersections of those. We also regularly plan heists and crimes lmao

My turn-ons: Long eyelashes, pouty lips, dirty hands (motor oil, paint, flour, etc), sarcasm, seeing someone get excited about something, compassion, casual physical affection

My turn-offs: Nastiness without a reason, knees (I just think knees look weird idk), Trump supporters, 100% pessimism (I understand being depressed or doubtful or being generally a pessimist, but if you adamantly refuse to see anything in a good light and try to ruin it for others f u c k y o u)

If I got a tattoo, what would it be and where?: ohhh I want tattoos so bad but I'm saving up and I'm not certain about some yet.... but I know that I'm getting a tree of life matching with my mom, I want mushrooms, pine trees, lavender, wildflowers (all for personal reasons). I'd also like to make maybe a charm bracelet of sorts with little charms for my favorite bands, books, movies, and other peices of media. I know that interests change and I might not like something in 30 years, but I see my life in periods of interests and I want to catalogue the things that shaped me

My pets: I have 3 cats - Pumpkin Pie, Lady, and Sweetheart

My dream job: I just want to live a free life doing what I want. I want to grow my own food for the most part, and raise animals, and paint, and write, and play music, and go on random adventures, go antiquing, decorate my home from my travels, learn without expectations - I don't want to exchange a fulfilling life for financial security from some mundane modern job.

My dream place to live: Secluded, in the forests of Oregon (or maybe Pennsylvania idk) on the bottom third of a mountain, on my own little farm

My dream vacation: I just wanna go explore historical landmarks and buildings

My dream house: A beautiful historical house -- like an 1870s American farmhouse, or a craftsman cottage, or a Victorian painted Lady, or maybe a New York brownstone -- filled with antiques and records and books and artifacts that I've collected. I LOVE antiques so much, everything would be of fine craftsmanship, it would be lavish and inviting and packed with interesting items at every turn (I want my house to be a curios shop lol) I also want a big ass kitchen and nice woodwork, I literally get horny over original built ins

My piercings: Sadly, I only have my standard ear piercings right now, but I think I'll get more soon. A nose ring, eye brow bar (yes I know that's so 2000s but I like them), probably 4 more on each ear, navel, nipples

If I had kids, what would I name them?: I love older, interesting names, so - Euphemia, Hartford, Monroe, Malory, Louise (me lol), August, Fredrick

My worst traits: I'm incredibly stubborn; I love talking to people but I'm awkward; lazy and don't care; I'm a bit of a collector/hoarder; I bottle up any anger or sadness I feel so I don't inconvenience others

My best traits: I love to give and help; I try to make people comfortable around me/in my home; I have excellent taste; I appreciate quality, culture, and creativity; I have many interesting interests that I'm eager to share and learn more about; I'm very creative

My worst fear: a painful death - I'm not afraid of dying, even though I'd rather not, I just don't want it to hurt

What do I want to eat right now?: Well, considering that I just ate my first bit of solid food in 3 days and immediately had to run to the bathroom... nothing

My favorite vacation memory: *blushes* my first kiss AND nearly my first time (we went like halfway): making out with this dude, son of my mom's friend, at my family cabin

My favorite city: I really don't know. Timber, OR, let's say

My favorite social media platform: Tumblr or Pinterest (does that count?)

My favorite article of clothing: My leather motorcycle jacket. I can't actually ride a motorcycle (trying to remedy that because *sexy*) but I got it a few years ago and it makes me feel so fucking badass. It's heavy, about 15 pounds of good quality leather, has lots of secret pockets in the lining and some cool looking zippers and studs, but nothing crazy. It's hella warm and comfy, I wear it everyday it's cold enough to

Do I play any sports?: pfft no. I like to swim, and I'm interested in baseball and tennis, but I suck at them and also I just don't like team sports

My favorite meal: What I order when I go to Buffalo Bills - a pesto/feta/mozzarella/Italian sausage/basil/tomato/garlic pizza, with homemade potato chips and chunky blue cheese dressing for dipping. If I had room, I'd finish with Marionberry cheesecake pie from Sherri's (but I am incredibly sick and have no faith in getting better enough so I feel like I'll never be able to eat like this again)

What am I excited for?: The winter holidays! I'm atheist, so Christmas is all about the personal stuff and non religious family traditions for me. I love the decorations, the music, seeing my family, baking, giving and receiving presents, it's all just so fun

What am I not excited for?: Cleaning my room, it really really needs it though. Also just continuing to live like this. I'm not suicidal, I'm just in a lot of pain constantly and I don't know what to do

When was the last time I cried?: an hour or so ago, I'm in loads of pain right now

What is something I hate about the world?: There's too much to choose from

What is something I love about the world?: children and nature

My favorite scents: vanilla, lavender, pine, Nag Champa incense, BBQ meat, pizza with basil, rosemary, my Dad's cologne

Cats or dogs?: kitties 💗

What kind of sleeper am I?: A weird one lol. I can't lay on my stomach for more than 15 minutes without it making me incredibly nauseous for the rest of the day, but it's also my favorite way to sleep cause its comfy somehow... I can't lay on my back without a pillow either, 30 seconds in and the nerves pinch so bad I'm screaming. I snore, and I sleep deep, but it takes a long time to fall asleep and usually only beeping or banging noises wake me up??? Like I said, I sleep weird

How long would I survive in a zombie apocalypse?: I really don't know. I have some skills and the drive to learn to fight, but I am currently, as I'm sure y'all can tell, very sick and I don't think I'd be able to live with so much movement and so little medicine

Am I trusting?: Generally, I probably trust too much but I'm not gonna stop

What fictional characters do I identify with?: there are many I like but none I identify with

My most common labels: Mom friend, butch, that weird fat chick (doesn't bother me tho), the well behaved daughter, old soul

My life's anthem: I really am not sure if this is a good anthem song but I love it so so much... Take Me In Your Arms (Rock Me A Little While) by Kim Weston - you see where I get my love of long titles lol

Problems I'm dealing with: my health and whatever painful sickness is wrecking me, figuring out what to do with my life, saving money, getting my anxiety under control, getting the house to actually heat up because I'm cold as fuck

How can someone win me over?: let me express my interests and feelings, show kindness, be funny

What is something people don't know about me?: Idk

Not tagging anyone, this took over an hour

#personal #about me #tag game

[wwwafflewrites]

The Not-So-French Mistake

Chapter 3: Fallen Ashes to Angels

In the cool shelter of the house, Castiel guarded Sydney as covertly as possible. The Winchesters and Bobby were present, but he felt it necessary he patrol the girl he had first gathered. His posture was ramrod straight and his shoulders were square to his spine; although, his muscles eventually tired from his stationary position. Humanity, he reasoned, cannot simply sit and be content. Their muscles exhaust too rapidly. This was where their impatience originated from, he supposed.

After an hour of waking only to supervise, he had noticed an aching emptiness centered within the pit of his stomach. Startled by the unpleasant experience, he had casually hunched into the couch as his stomach begged and craved food. He had, of course, once experienced this foreign desire when they had encountered Famine, but he had never become accustomed to such.

No one among him had seemed to satisfy their own hunger, so he assumed that it was a typical pain at this early hour. However, he found that throughout the day nobody mentioned any food of sorts, and the dull grumble of hunger grew into a slow starvation. He was inclined to slouch further into the couch cushions but decided against it. With a cautious eye pinned to the girl browsing their library, he entered the kitchen with an intent to raid the fridge.

Dean questioned his purpose, as always. “What's got you in such a hurry?”

Upon opening the fridge to find it bare, Castiel was experiencing a taste of humanity's impatience, and his clipped voice represented this. “Dean, there is a deep greed I have felt for several hours now. I have a great desire to ingest food, and I must eat or I will further suffer hunger.” Was this himself speaking? He hadn't meant his words to be bitter.

Dean’s lips curled upward in entertainment. “You know, you could say you're hungry like a normal person, Cas.” He sighed, “Yeah, we can eat. Hey, Sam; how about we go to the local diner for lunch? Cas here is getting hangry.”

“Hangry?” Castiel baffled in his own irritable way. “I believe it's pronounced―”

“Sounds like a plan.” Sam interrupted.

Castiel quieted when nobody acknowledged his question. He was only curious as to why Dean deliberately stressed the word hangry when he had said hungry only seconds before. Had he done so purposely? The English language was rather complex, he decided. Humans love to complicate their languages. Enochian was much more straightforward.

They looked expectantly to Sydney, who was uncertain. “I... I might stay back and research.” She extended the book she was skimming in an attempt to strengthen her plea.

Dean vetoed that. “No, no, sweetcheeks. We aren't losing you from our sight. Loco angels, remember?”

Castiel sent a sad, apologetic smile to Sydney from behind Dean's shoulder; it was his species, after all.

Bobby nodded to her. “Go on. Nothing here except the phones. We’ll dig into it further once you've had something to eat. I'll stay behind in case somebody calls.”

She squinted, yielding to the hunters’ hidden demand. While their politeness covered it neatly, it all broke down to the fact that she had to accompany them. She set her jaw and nodded grudgingly. Four against one was no fair argument.

She and Castiel trailed behind the Winchesters, the angel clarifying that she was under his surveillance. “Hangry?" he whispered to himself, wondering.

Sydney chuckled at the angel's innocence. If she wasn't currently a prisoner, she’d have found him to be good company. “Dean combined the words hungry and angry.”

“Oh, I see,” he said, though not really seeing.

●●●

The immediate rise of the temperature outside was alarming. Heat surged down fervidly onto the group. They were practically baking in their jackets... and a specific trench coat.

“Dog days this late, hm?” Dean was skeptical. “Well, take off your jackets or you will fry in the car. The air conditioning takes a few minutes to kick in.” He shrugged off his dad's old jacket, taking care to form it into a neat fold. His shirt hugged his form, showing his toned physique and aged scars.

Dean grasped the handle of the car door and hissed in pain when it seared with heat. The sun radiated off the car's reflection. “Jesus!” He exclaimed, inspecting his palm, which was thankfully free of burns. “That is hot.”

“We know you love your car, Dean.” Castiel chortled courteously, expecting his friend to have been joking. It was usual Dean-personality.

“No, that thing is hotter than the pits of hell. And I've been there.” Dean was sincere. His hand was now a light, sore pink, but thankfully the skin was intact. He cradled it momentarily. Using his shirt as a barrier for his hand, he wrenched the door open awkwardly. Hot air blasted out like a dragon breathing fire. “Well, get in.”

After several minutes of uncomfortable fidgeting in the oven-like seats and complaining over the fiery seatbelts, they took off with the windows cranked at their full capacity. With the constant whoosh of humid air rushing through the windows, so the car was merely warm. A rattle of Legos in the vent synched with rhythm of Sydney's heartbeat.

“So... Sydney. To hit two birds with one stone, we're going to the town we found you in. We’ve heard evidence of murder, and they haven't found the bodies,” Sam informed her delicately.

Dean turned down the radio a notch so he could speak and be heard over the windows and blasting rock music. “Y-ep. The creepy part? There, reportedly, had been a huge community bonfire exactly the night after they went missing. I'm going on a hunch here, but I'll take it the fire smelled like burning flesh and nonconsensual sacrifices.” Dean informed, glancing in his rearview mirror. “Hey, Cas, could you stick with her for the day? Sam and I just have this one case to look into.” Dean wrung his sweaty palms on his steering wheel and muttered, “Or maybe two if this sun thing doesn't chill out.”

Castiel nodded. He had been doing so since she had arrived, anyway. “I planned on it,” he replied happily.

Dean made a turn on the road and fidgeted miserably when the sun's light hit his lap, pooling heat onto his legs. “Okay,” he said finally, speaking over the open windows as he drove, “what is it with the supersun? It's almost fall. I feel like one of the ants we held magnifying glasses over when we were kids. This thing is microwaving us.” He briefly wondered if he could bake a pie in this weather. It surely would pay off for all their previous efforts among any work they accomplished.

Castiel considered the possibility. “You may be correct. Something could be magnifying the sun to create havoc.”

Dean’s eyes were fixated on the road, but he couldn't help glancing back in tired disbelief. Man, their lives just got weirder and weirder. “So what could we be looking at? Witches? Satanic worshipers? Demons? Monsters? A summoning? What do we got?”

Castiel brooded. “It takes a great amount of effort to reign the Sun, Dean. I'm not sure.” He shuffled, shirt clammy with sweat. “They would need to be incredibly powerful.”

“Right.”

Oddly enough, as they entered the town, traffic had not seemed to accumulate. The roads were barren of any vehicles, and as they approached the town, they promptly discovered why.

Pedestrians riddled the sidewalks under the grilling sun, their faces flushed and dehydrated. There were at several people arguably ill to heat stroke.

Dean parked the car abruptly, eyes widening at the disorder of people. He turned to his friends: "Scratch everything I said. Some of these folks need to get to the hospital. Now. The murders can wait before more deaths occur because of our overly sociable sun.” Not a dot of leniency stood in his tone, expecting their immediate service to secure the town, which was reasonable.

Sam looked ready to protest, but Dean shut him right up. “Sam,” he spoke dangerously, “something screwy is going on with that sun, and if we don't act now, there won’t be a town to save! Cas, Sam, Pug-face, I need you to gather some townspeople, and watch her, Cas. I have to park this baby in the shade before we haul these strangers to the nearest hospital.”

There was no time to dwell, so with Sydney's shrunken, annoyed pip of, “Pug-face?”, everyone was scrambling out of the car. Cas and Sydney headed to the left while Sam sprinted right. They didn't bother checking for traffic; the asphalt had been deserted once people realized they could griddle an omelet on its surface.

The town was in a fragile state. The sky had become stale, altering from a beryl blue to an ashen grey as the sun cloaked the atmosphere with a withering glare. Ruddy, rich soil had crisped into a cinder-like dust. The budding, lush greens of trees had faded to a tarnished, mossy hue. As the heat elevated, the saturation crumbled.

Sam found his shoes sticky with softened bitumen from the road. He dashed toward a feverous woman, a victim to the cruel weather. She swayed, rocking on their heels in misery. With a parched, dry mouth, she begged, “Water. Please―”

Sam promised almost pitifully, “We'll get you water. We’ll get you water, okay? They'll have water at the hospital. I swear.” He prayed that to be true and that the curse had only struck upon this town. If the entire globe was suffering against a Hulked-out, mammoth sun, an immense epidemic would occur, and it would become outside of the Winchester's hands to solve it.

Sam supported the woman as she staggered clumsily. Her sweat dripped and sizzled on the concrete, and her brow was furrowed into a distressing, hazy determination as she struggled to remain conscious.

Across the street, Cas and Sydney had their hands full. Cas was carrying a frail child in his arms, her face flushed and scarlet. Sydney provided assistance to a young man; his steps wavered, so overtaken by blistering temperatures it ached to focus upon the mere idea of walking.

Dean had fortunately parked in some nearby shade, and the chattering of the engine echoed like an impish cat. The heat couldn’t have been good for Dean's beloved car, but he had set aside materialistic issues and had dug into the true stakes at hand: the lives of innocent civilians and children.

Now with the heat-stricken people stuffed inside the Impala, Dean took charge. He spoke through the window, voice sharp and commanding, “You guys help the rest of the people get shelter and water, and help yourselves too. I mean it―I don't want to come back and drag you all to the hospital as well, you understand?”

His friends nodded in unison, and Dean then mirrored the action. “Okay. I should be back soon. Don't do anything stupid!” He aimed a finger pointedly at Sydney. “Especially you, Sparky.” With that, he revved the engine, and then drove off.

They got straight to business, heading toward the groups of people who had scarcely kept from stewing in the daylight.

However, as Sydney drew nearer to her assignment, she slowed as the sun flushed heat against her sweaty back. The people about her were in such grave conditions, but she couldn't find it in herself to care much at the moment. “I'm going to go…” she pointed lazily, “uh… get water...” she let them know sluggishly, endeavoring to sound as casual as allowed at that moment.

Castiel looked sternly to her, seeing past her weak facade. “Dean does not want us doing something regrettable. Especially you. I believe going on your own counts as such.”

Hearing Dean's snarky words through the angel's mouth was comedic. The comment became totally unlike Dean: uncertain and... unusually gentle.

Sydney almost chuckled, but she was too exhausted, hot, and dehydrated to manage it. God, I feel sick, she thought miserably as her stomach twisted and clenched in nausea, not realizing her apparent prayer. “Cas. I really―”

Then, he was in the way, blocking her path stubbornly. She feebly pushed but found him encouraging her to rest on the sidewalk amongst the townsfolk and lean against a shaded, brick wall.

A habit of saying or thinking his Father's name in vain usually lead to accidental prayers. “Sam will do so. You are growing ill.”

She searched for her voice, and once she’d found it, she weakly argued, croaking, “But I want to help―”.

“I have been assigned to serve amongst the ill, and now you are included amongst them, so I shall tend to you.” He asserted faithfully, concern clouding his features. “I wish I could heal you.” 

He found his predicament highly counterproductive. If only he could have utilized his wasted grace upon the suffering people in this town. If only he had clutched further onto it before it snuck past his impatient fingers. The circumstance made him resentful and upset, realizing he could have accomplished something just yesterday.

A time as simply distant as 24 hours ago, yet he could do nothing now.

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Z Special: History of Trunks

The second DBZ special aired on February 24, 1993, right between Episodes 175 and 176.   I was always kind of curious about the timing on this special, because it was included with the Trunks Saga box set back in the day, which led me to believe that it meant to be viewed around that part of the story.   More likely, Funimation did it because the Trunks Saga was really short, and the “box set” would have been two VHS tapes without something else to throw in.    

The collected editions of the manga placed it right around the same order as the TV show, right after Mr. Satan insists on fighting first.   However, Kanzenshuu.com lists its original publication date as August 11, 1992,  as part of a double feature alongside Chapter 396, which features Trunks taking on Perfect Cell so Krillin could rescue Vegeta.   That might explain why episode 164 featured a lengthy flashback to Trunks’ boyhood.   Toei had the special to work from, and while they eventually adapted the special outright, they were able to do a filler scene with some confidence in what Trunks’ future word was really like.    That makes a lot of sense, because Trunks vs. Perfect Cell was probably the high water mark for the character, and after that he became much less important in the series.  

To be clear, the manga version came first, and the anime version adapted and expanded it.    So unlike the DBZ movies, this one is about as canon as it gets.    It also stands in stark contrast to the first special starring Bardock.    Toriyama had nothing to do with creating “Father of Goku”, but he liked the special so much that he briefly referenced the climactic scene in the manga.  

So yeah, this is basically an account of the future timeline Trunks is from, so it opens with Goku dying of the hear virus Trunks predicted in Episode 122.   

I know that feel, kid.   

Then we flash forward about six months to May 12, Age 767, when the androids attacked.    They kill all the Z-Fighters, and then we flash forward again about thirteen years.    Things look pretty much the same, but only because this just happens to be one of the towns the androids haven’t attacked yet.   Also, this one kid has a baloon with Goku on it, which seems really out of place when he’s been dead for so long. 

So the Androids attack... I think it’s Peppertown, and we then find Master Roshi’s house is abandoned.    Turns out he took cover in a submarine, along with Oolong, Puar, and Turtle.    Apparently, this is just what they do when they hear of an android attack on the radio.   I assume that means Peppertown is close enough to Kame House to warrant this sort of thing, but then again, they may just be really jumpy.  

In Peppertown, 18 helps herself to a clothing store, and that’s a pretty cool sequence.    The shopkeep is terrified, of course.  

Then 17 blows up the store as soon as she leaves.   18 chews him out for this, because she wanted to at least spare the clothes.    17 had agreed to this, but forgot.   

And that’s kind of the theme of the androids’ reign of terror.    A lot of the early material surrounding Trunks’ future world made it sound more like the post-apocalyptic world of the Terminator movies.    In Episode 139, Trunks even flashes back to a group of humans, many of whom are wearing outfits and swords like his, which imply that they’re all part of some human resistance movement.    That wasn’t hard to go along with, especially since we had just finished the Frieza Saga, where the main villain was more about oppressing people than killing them outright.   But once we finally met 17 and 18, it turns out that they’re not terribly motivated by anything.     They kill people indiscriminately, but they’re in no great hurry to get it done.   This explains how they can be strong enough to kill a Super Saiyan, and yet there’s still a world left thirteen years on.   

As a consequence, Trunks’ world doesn’t look like a hellish post-apocalyptic nightmare.     At least not all of it does.    Peppertown looked pretty much business-as-usual, until the androids finally got around to destroying it.   It’s not a quick, sudden thing that happened.   The world is slowly being torn down, city by city, person by person, and that’s actually scarier when you think about it. 

For example, Bulma and Trunks hear about the attack on Peppertown while they’re returning from a grocery run, but they have to drive a long way for groceries because so many cities have been ruined.   So there’s still food and cars and fuel for cars and such, but things are a lot harder to access.    I assume the world population has had to become more decentralized, since any major population center risks getting targeted by the androids. 

Anyway, Trunks has had it with the androids, so he asks his mom if she doesn’t mind heading home alone, and she knows what he’s up to, but she can’t really stop him from leaving either.   

But when Trunks reaches Peppertown, it’s too late.    The androids are gone, and so are all the people he wanted to save.   

But he does run into Gohan there, and so the two of them head back to the Capsule Corp. building, or what’s left of it.     There, Trunks pleads with Gohan to take him on as his student, and teach him how to kick some android ass.   Gohan agrees, since Trunks reminds him a lot of himself as a boy.   But they agree to keep his training a secret from Bulma so she won’t worry.  

This is one of the commerical bumpers they used in this special.    I’m putting it here because I want to point out that this is maybe the only time I’ve ever seen them actually color in that bit of purple hair sticking out of baby Trunks’ hat.   usually hey just leave it the same color as his face.   He looks a lot cuter this way.  

Gohan has dinner with Trunks and Bulma, and it’s weird to see Bulma cooking, but in this world, she probably had no choice.    It looks like her house took a pounding from an Android attack, but it’s mostly in tact.    My guess is that West City is mostly deserted, and Bulma stayed here because she needs the lab and other equipment, and she figured a deserted city would be safer than a full one.  

Later, Gohan starts training Trunks.   He’s strong and he has loads of potential, but he won’t really be in any shape to fight the androids until he can turn into a Super Saiyan like Gohan can.    Gohan keeps telling him that anger is the key, but Trunks just can’t quite pull it off.   

Ox King and Chi-Chi are still alive in this timeline, although they both look pretty haggard.   From what I can tell, they never see much of Gohan anymore, and so all Ox King has for her are stories he’s heard of Gohan fighting the androids in various places.    She longs for the days when Goku was still alive and Gohan had a chance of becoming a great scholar, but that future was taken away from Gohan when he was left as the only one strong enough to fight the androids.

Then we pick up at some later time, in another city.   Things look pretty peaceful here, and they even have an amusement park.   One of the people in this shot says it’s because this is one of the few cities that has any sort of military, so they think that’s kept the androids away all these years.

Only it wasn’t.   17 and 18 are here right now.   They just never got around to this city yet.   How is 18 doing that with her arm?   Well, she is a cyborg...

Someone calls the military for assistance, but we see that there’s no one to answer, because 17 and 18 already took them out before they got to the park.   

Soon, Gohan and Trunks show up, and we see Gohan turn Super Saiyan for the first time in the special.    Not sure why he does that jazz hands thing, but whatever.    A lot of what he’s been doing lately has probably been self-taught.  

Now, we first saw 17 and 18 fight in Episodes 135 and 136.  There, they took out Vegeta and Trunks--both as Super Saiyans--with tremendous ease.   Afterward, Trunks mentioned that they were far more powerful than the 17 and 18 in his own timeline.    He was at least able to fight them there, and the main problem was the numbers game, and the androids’ superior stamina.   They never get tired, while Super Saiyans burn through their energy pretty quickly.  

This fight pretty neatly illustrates the problem.   Gohan does pretty well while he’s fighting 17 alone, but then 18 jumps in and saves 17 before he can come close to finishing him off.   If Gohan could just get one of them isolated for a while, maybe he could divide and conquer, but that just never happens.    If he had a partner, then that guy could keep 18 busy while Gohan takes out 17, and then they could double team 18 and be done with it.  

And Trunks does pretty well in that respect, considering he’s only 14 and not even a Super Saiyan.   He’s no match for 18, but he does get in a few hits, which is more than he managed when he was older and more powerful and tried to fight 18 in the altered timeline.  

Ultimately, things go really badly for the boys, because Trunks gets overwhelmed and Gohan ends up having to fight both androids and save Trunks at the same time.   He tries to hide, much like we saw him do in the flashback from Episode 164, only this time it dosn’t do him any good.    The one advantage he has on the androids is that they can’t sense his ki, but that doesn’t matter here, because 18 just fires a big energy blast that happens to be right next to him.     There’s no escape.  

The only thing that saves them is that 17 and 18 can’t find them in the rubble, so they give up and go “home”.   I wonder what their home looks like.    Gohan digs himself out and one of his arms is gone.   He pulls out his bag of senzu beans and finds that he only has one left.    And this is truly the last senzu bean ever.   Apparently the plant that they grow from died off.   I don’t know if 17 and 18 attacked Korin’s tower or what.   

I’m also not sure if eating the bean would grow back Gohan’s missing arm.    I guess Yamcha’s injuries at the hands of Dr. Gero were at least as severe, but somehow growing back a limb seems much more extreme to me.    Regardless, he gives the bean to Trunks, because that’s the kind of guy Gohan is.    I like the dub version of this, because Gohan just stares at the bean and asks himself “What would your father do?”   and then he gives it to Trunks.   

Trunks eventually gets Gohan home and they have a doctor tend to his wounds, and before long Gohan’s back in action, minus an arm.    This is about where the manga verson starts, so everything you’ve seen up to now has been filler.  

I get the impression that this scene is right after Gohan recovered, and they haven’t fought the androids since he lost his arm.    Trunks still can’t turn Super Saiyan, and Gohan reminisces about how he did it when he thought about Piccolo and the others dying to the androids. 

I get the sense that Future Gohan has some serious flaws as a warrior.    No disrespect intended, I just mean that his game plan seems to be largely improvised.    Ox King mentioned hat he seems to be determined to “avenge” the Z-Fighters, which makes sense, except that he probably needs to be more focused on protecting humanity, or figuring out a way to defeat the androids.    From what I’ve seen of him, it looks like he’s more interested in just fighting them.  He shows up, they mix it up a little, he gets in over his head, and then he has to hide until they get bored and leave.   If that’s his standard operating procedure, then I doubt he’s ever actually driven off 17 and 18.   Why would they stop attacking a city after he’s out of sight?

I’m not saying that Gohan doesn’t care about the people, but it seems like his strategy is just “Hit the androids until they explode,” and that hasn’t gotten him anywhere.    If Vegeta were still alive, then they might have enough firepower to make that plan work.    If Piccolo were around, then he’d probably make Gohan understand that he needs to think outside the box on this.    But Gohan’s not a tactician or a fighting genius.   He’s very talented, but on his own, his shortcomings become very apparent.  

Anyway, while they talk, the androids start attacking West City.   Trunks wants to help, but Gohan insists that he stay behind.    Trunks hates that idea, especially since Gohan’s lost an arm already.   So Gohan agrees to let him come along.... only to knock him out cold while he’s not looking.   

And this leads us to Gohan’s Last Stand.    He actually does pretty well fighting both 17 and 18 at the same time, with only one arm at that.    But it doesn’t take them long to turn the tables on him.   My guess is that Gohan pushed himself too hard and wore himself out faster than usual.   Also, as I recall from the manga, 17 told him that he hadn’t been figthing at full strength until now, so he may have underestimated them.   

But Gohan warns them: Even if his body is destroyed, what he represents will live on, and someone else will rise up to carry out his last wish.    Z Stands for the end, but not yet.   

Later, Trunks wakes up, and find him in the city, lying face down in a puddle.   

And the pain and grief and rage well up inside him, and finally, Trunks realizes what it takes to be a Super Saiyan.    It wasn’t just anger, as Gohan told him.  It was a kind of anger that he couldn’t truly understand until now, because as bad as this future world is, it’s the only one Trunks knows, and as long as he had his mom and Gohan, he’d never really lost anything before now.    But Gohan was his best friend and martial arts master, and his hero.     He was the best, and the androids killed him and threw him away like so much trash.    

To be honest, I’m a little choked up on this screening, because I’ve been watching all of DBZ up to this point.   The audience has watched Gohan grow up.    We’ve seen him as a baby, we’ve seen him make friends and do very brave things, and this is how it ends.   A couple of shithead androids kill him like he doesn’t even matter.  Well he did matter, and Trunks has the yellow aura to prove it.   

And this is what’s so grim about Trunks’ world.   The Dragon Balls are long gone, senzu beans are extinct, and the last Z-Fighter just died a lonely death.   Yeah, Trunks has become the Legendary Super Saiyan, but so what?   By the time he’s pulled it off, it’s too late to do any good.    It won’t bring Gohan back, or save all the people who died.    This is a very bitter moment for Trunks.     Goku and Vegeta might have found their Super Saiyan awakenings to be cathartic, but not Trunks.   

Three years later, Trunks has been helping Bulma work on her latest invention, the time machine.   Her plan is to send Trunks back twenty years into the past to see if Goku could have stopped the androids if he had survived his illness.    But by this point, her lab has been destroyed, so it’s taken a long time for her to charge the time machine for a round trip.    As for Trunks, he thinks they won’t need the time machine, because he thinks he’s finally strong enough to beat the androids by himself.    Bulma hates that idea, since that’s exactly how Gohan got himself killed.   

But when Trunks hears of an android attack on the radio, there’s not much Bulma can do to stop him from going.    He straps on his sword and flies out to wreck their shit.  

At first he seems to do pretty well...

But his attacks don’t hurt them at all.   As Trunks eventually realizes, it’s not that his attacks aren’t strong enough, it’s that they’re just fast enough to dodge a split second before they connect.  

And then he realizes his mother was right.    He’s in over his head, and the androids won’t just let him walk away from this.    He’s gotten sucked into the same routine Gohan was in for over a decade.  

Also, look how much he resembles Vegeta from his battle with Frieza, right around the time he realized the same thing about Frieza.  

So the androids toy with him and chase him around for a while as he tries to escape.   Not sure why he turned off Super Saiyan during this...

But then they toss him out of a building and he’s back in Super mode again.    Are those flower petals supposed to be like cherry blossoms?   Did Trunks finally go through puberty? 

They keep picking on him, mainly because he’s too stubborn to lay down, and when he asks them why they do this, they say it’s because they hate humans, and so they’ve decided to kill everyone they find.    

Eventually, they blast him and leave without making sure he’s dead, and then Trunks wakes up a few days later to discover that his mom found him and got him medical attention.    At long last, Trunks is finally on board with using the time machine.  

And so Trunks recovers, and he prepares for his fateful journey.    Bulma assures him that Goku will be able to help, not just because he was strong, but because he had a way of making you feel like everything would turn out okay.    Oh, and Vegeta... certainly... uh, was alive back then.   Yeah.   

And that’s it.   The credits show clips of Trunks debut in Episodes 120-122, and now you know..... the rest.... of the story.   Paul Harvey...... good day?

In the past, I never had much use for this special, because most of what happens in it is stuff we already knew about from Trunks’ description of his past.    Also, for a few years I struggled to accept DBZ stories that went backwards on the power scale like this.   Future Trunks and Future Gohan and their android enemies are much weaker than Cell or the Saiyans in the Cell Games Saga, so what’s the point?  

Also, I went through a period where I didn’t have much use for Trunks as a character, maybe because he didn’t seem to matter much after he beat Mecha-Frieza and lost to Cell.    He just seemed to whine a lot and never had much to contribute, unlike Gohan and the others.    

But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned to appreciate Trunks’ story more.    He has a mission, and things to prove, and loved ones to protect and avenge, and he just wants to get through this thing in one piece, you know?    He’s not big on foolish heroics because he’s seen bad things happen to people who do.    Sometimes his cautious, calculated approach to things doesn’t work either, but you can’t blame him for having that attitude.    In his world, you’re working without a net.   

#dragon ball #2019dbliveblog #history of trunks #dbmovieliveblog #trunks #gohan #bulma #android 17 #android 18 #goku #vegeta #piccolo #krillin #yamcha #tien #chiaotzu #chi chi #ox king

[relatablemormonmoments]

Sunday Talks Summary

Typed down really quickly because sleep is calling (O@ks is in there somewhere but I didn't even listen to his talk soooo)

Dale G. Renlund

Heavenly Father wants to bless us

We need faith inspired blessings

We must rely on Christ

We don't need to earn a blessing but we must qualify for one

Small acts of faith ignite God's promises

Push on and Pray again

"Mike, you can do this, try again"

Make tools before we know what to do with them

Cheerfully donall things that Lie in your power and then stand still - Joseph Smith

Pros: Beautiful talk about why God gives us blessings and why we need those blessings

Cons: Insinuates that we need to work within strict guidelines set by the church

Sharon Eubank

Temple is a steady beacon (one night the lights wouldn't turn on, it felt somber and people. noticed.)

Satan seeks to heighten pressures and take away the light

God visits people in their afflictions

Life can be exhausting

DEPRESSION! THIS TALK IS ABOUT DEPRESSION

i stan this woman 200%

Jesus is always reaching out to someone who isn't traditionally accepted by society

Some of us are full of questions but are irritated by it (Dream about stone Gazebo)

We develop assurance/ hope in things unseen

Return us to purity-not logical but true

Take courage and turn to God

We need friends and we need eachother

Pros: This talk is about how God loves us no matter what and will guide us and wants to make us feel better, This talk feels like a well needed hug, There is hope in God

Cons: May make you sad

Quentin L. Cook

Faith hope charity and love

Sharing Gospel=Great Love

(Story about visiting Samoa and ministering to a man) At first unsuccessful in converting him but left as friends, then prophet made his armor fall away and he left accepting the missionaries

Invite friends to feel the CHURCH EXPERIENCE

The home is now the main family history center thanks to the internet

The home is the main Missionary training center

Men and Women have = power to recieve revelation for the family

Loving atmosphere in the home

Maake the internet a servent to your family rather than a distraction or a master

Pro: Feminist mention, Focuses on missionary work and Nelson's home centered teachings

Con: Pro Proselytizing, Semi Anti Internet

D. Todd Christoferson

Spirit made clear that the Church is uniquely prepared

Second Coming

The lord hath brought again Zion

Employing our imperfect efforts, our small means, the lord brings about great things

Pro: About the Second Coming, we dont have to be perfect, as long as we make an effort

Con: Pro do all you can to expedite end times

Tad R. Callister

Atonement ->Safert in our foolish actions

Repentance =allowing the savior to protect us (Parachute analogy)

Some have trouble forgiving themselves and have falsely made the infinite atonement into a finite one

You can never go too far

How do we know we' e been forgiven? ->Feel holy ghost's influence

Guilt's a warning, a stop sign, but we can forget its pain (Alma)

Let us cheerfully do all things in our power and then stand still before God -Joseph Smith

Saving ordinances unleash our Godly Powers (which makes me think of superman lol)

No man should blame his "nature" when he has Christ to protect him

Pros: Atonement saves us when we actively use it!, Guilt is a warning!, You can't stray too far

Cons: Call out for those who always e cuse their own actions and refuse to better themselves.

Russel N. Nelson

"I need to feed my spirit!"

Return to our love ones when we all serve the lord (Beautiful but tragic story of his Daughter's passing)

Visited Paradise CA after death of daughter and devastating fire

Policeman helps others escape to safety at peril of own life, worries about his own family to learn they were safely evacuated

When we are on the brink of death we think of if our family will be safe furst

Salvation is an individual matter, Exaltation is a family matter

Pour out heart to God, make and keep covenants with hkm

Invite non members and thise distancing themselves from church

Pros: Really sweet, concern about our family who we want to be with forever

Cons: I CRIED ABOUT HIS DAUGHTER, The Family A Proclamation to the World

Juan Pablo Billar

Spiritual Gifts are like muscles

When he was a kid his brother joined the church and went on a mission. He planned a trip with his friends to celebrate graduation and made a stop in the town his brother served in, wanted to hang out and sunbathe at the beach, brother was like "hey this is my companion lets do some chores before we go to the beach" and so Juan walked with his brother through the town for more than ten hours going house to house as his brother and brother's companion preached the gospel. His brother asked his feelings onnthe savior and never corrected him. He gained knowledge. He never sunbathed but bathed in the light of heaven, he was a missionary without being a member of the church.

Trust in the Lord

("He's just like Uchtdorf!" -My Grandmother)

Got baptized and went on mission in brother's footsteps

Exercise our faith, its a muscle

Pros: I LOVE THIS MAN HES SO ADORABLE and very funny

Cons: None

Garret W. Gong

Counting sheepndoesnt make him sleepy, but anxious and awake

Count the lamb of God and be counted by the Good Shepherd

He calls us by name, we do it in his

Book of mormon is a blessing

Gathering of Israel

Feed his sheep

False prophets = wolf in sheeps clothing

Minister to all of God's children

Filled with compassion, pure and perfect love

Invites all to find peace

Pros: Feel good talk, equates us to the lord and the lord to us

Cons: Pro proselytizing

David A. Bednar

"I have learned for myself" -Joseph Smith

We all nesd to learn for ourselves

Become more like Heavenly Father

We cannot borrow Gospel Knowledge from others

Gospel learning becoming home centered

We are unsure about what we can say about the temple, and thusbafraid to say anything to our children and grandchildren that would foster a love for the temple

A lot of good information is provided by the church

The Lord will enable you

Pros: Encourages learning for ourselves rather than to learn, or to rely on other's knowledge, There is no cheating on a test of faith, Nelson's centered on the home plan

Cons: A lot of non members don't want to rely on church sites for info about the church because its obviously biased towards the church

Kyle F. McKay

Immediate goodness of God comes to those who ask

Immediate hope and peace and kindness

Completely surrendering self to Lord (Emily & Substance abuse) for betterment of self

Great plan of deliverence and redemption

"Aleisha we love you, you need to take this call," Bishop grieved with her over loss of family, gave her a blessing, filled with peace, understanding, and joy.

Pro: Very calming to listen to, God loves us all and qants to comfort us

Con: sensitive subjects of substance abuse and car crash

Ronald Rasband

Our homes are fortresses against evils of thenworld

Our homes are only as powerful as our spiritual strength

Need for Holy Ghost

Satan rages on, subtle snake

Faithful in resisting inequity

Do we act with the willing obedience of Nephi?

Focus on Eternal Life

Testimony=Personal Fortresses

Pros: Nephi, yes Satan is attacking us and we need to build our defense.

Cons: are people with nonmember families/ "broken" families weaker against satan? does this include found families? non traditional homes?

Russel N. Nelson

162 temples today

pioneer temples will be renewed, restored, preserved, and renovated

Temples are part of our sacred history

American Samoa

Okinawa

Tonga

Utah

Washington

Honduras

Chile

Hungary

May we renovate our lives to serve and love Him

Church will continue until He deems the work is done.

#book of mormon #mormon #queerstake #lds #ldsteen #gencon #general conference #latter day saints #the church of jesus christ of latter day saints #tumblrstake #lds conference #mormon conference