#you have to consider the fact that she has no reason to doubt or question the Creche as the easy fix for her problems.

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - Death’s Brought Me Company

@Mimca @thesilentbard @carelisswriting @kinglazrus

There are times Vlad is truly baffled at how irresponsible, foolish, reckless, inane, stupid, dangerous, dense, careless, thoughtless, witless, idiotic, and hazardous, Maddie and Jack could be. They were his friends, yes, but they were a menace to everyone around them and he is not impressed with their son becoming their lastest ‘screw up’.

Vlad hums as he sorts through a few papers, there wasn’t too much approvals he needed to go over and sign but it was still work all the same. It would take him a few hours at least, rather than the seven plus hours poor people had to work but well that’s the perks of wealth no matter how questionably immorally acquired. That questionable morality was why he didn’t bring up his business around those friends of his, they didn’t exactly approve of how Vlad got himself to where he is today. He finds it to be rather hypocritical considering those two worked in an area that was highly morally questionable as well, and he highly doubts they’ve achieved everything they have though one hundred percent legal means as well. Alas, he had little interest in arguing such things with them, both could be rather dense after all.

He’s making good time on this application for zoning investigation and work arounds, which was starting to look like he’d definitely have to deal with it personally and with a little intimidation perhaps. Then his phone goes off, he’s tempted to let it simply go to voicemail, no one was truly entitled to his time or immediate attention after all. Then the caller id tells him it’s them, it’s Jack and Maddie, and any ideas of giving the caller(s) the cold shoulder goes out the window. They’d caught up with him four days ago? He’d given them his condolences for their portal, while also adding in some maybe snide remarks about how ‘at least there was no tragic accidents this time’. Secretly, he wanted that to be a success, in part because he knew they’d just keep trying and he’d rather them succeed before hurting themselves. The other part was simply that he can then show them his portal in proper, since they didn’t want seeing his to influence their own work; establish something themselves without others input was something he could respect. But without them being able to sense and feel the flow of ectoplasm even he’s not sure how they’ll manage it. The fact that they’re calling again so soon means either it has indeed worked and they had only needed to fiddle with it a bit more, or someone’s been hurt. All he can do is hope it’s the former, as he picks up the phone, “Maddie? Jack?”.

It’s Maddie’s voice he hears, hearing her voice before Jack’s excited greetings was never a good thing. The last time that happened Jack had gotten himself hospitalised from a head on collision with a semi truck. The time before that, Jack had somehow gotten the house teleported into the mirror dimension, which Vlad hadn’t even known existed. Her voice is worried, “Vlad, I think we messed up”.

Oh no. Vlad sighs, folding up the paperwork that won’t be looked at again today, and puts a few of his fingers to his forehead as he replies, “what happened? Are you two okay?”.

“We’re… fine-”.

“And! Our portals working!”. Ah there’s Jack, there’s excitement in his voice but it’s… far too subdued for the man. Very far too subdued. Something’s gone wrong.

Did a ghost come through their portal? A dangerous one perhaps? Or is the Infinite Realm side location an unpleasant one? Is the portal unstable? There’s lots of possibilities.

“Jack dear, let me explain”.

“Right, sorry Mads. Hey Vlad!”.

Vlad rolls his eyes a little fondly, also slight annoyed of course, Jack could be too eager and exuberant, “yes hello, Jack. Now do explain, Madeline”.

“Maddie”, she clears her throat, “after the portal didn’t work we decided to go for a walk, to try and think in the fresh air and cheer up”.

Perfectly reasonable and expected so far.

“We even formulated a new shaft design we were going to try and work in, but when we got back Jazz… screamed-”.

Jack butts in again, “it was awful and I never want to hear that from my precious princess ever again”; Vlad can hear the man physically shudder. Yes, he supposes hear one’s child scream is never good or pleasant.

“Agreed, Jack. But-”, she sighs, “-it was from the lab, Vlad, so we ran down, worried of course-”. It sounds like she’s bitting her nails, something she only did when very worried. “-the last time anyone screamed in a lab was you and that was terrifying”.

Vlad grumbling, “oh I’m well aware”, shaking his head, “is young Jasmine alright?”.

“Yes, yes, thankfully. But… Danny’s not”. Well butter biscuits, Vlad gets up immediately to go grab his coat as she continues, “apparently Danny saw how upset we were and thought he’d try to fix the portal for us-”.

Vlad pauses with one arm through his jacket sleeve, he almost squawks but he absolutely does not squawk, “what”; he knows a bit of his ghostly power leaked into his voice and that made his response less pleasant on the ears, but he hardly cares. “How did he even get down there”.

She doesn’t chastise him for using his more ghostly voice over phone, meaning she might be concerned enough to have not even noticed, “we… might have forgot to lock the lab when we left-”.

Jack butting in yet again, “but the kids have been drilled on safety! He really should have known not too!”.

Vlad growls low, “they’re children, Jack”, pulling his jacket on fully and taking a breath, “children are not known for abiding by rules and are well known to have invincibility complexes”. Daniel was a stellar and unfortunate example of that. That boy had tried to eat a pie that was actively on fire before, and don’t get him started on the child trying to ‘bake himself’ or the blackbird pie incident.

Maddie swallows, “I know we weren’t as careful as we should have been, Vlad. Danny… wandered inside the portal to see if he could fix it and it turned out we… forgot to unplug it as well and… forgot there was an on switch inside that needed to be turned on”.

Vlad knows well his eyes flash red, “excuse me, would you care to repeat that”, that was practically a threat and he knew it. How could they be so! So! So stupid! So utterly and completely and unbelievably moronic! “You left it plugged in, forgot an on switch INSIDE THE MACHINE, failed to lock the Cracker Jack door, and left a dangerous highly volatile machine in working condition alone while your children were home. Are you two actively TRYING to hospitalise people?!”. It takes some effort to not simply crush his phone, “college I can understand, we were all too excitable, but now? Absolutely not”, growling again, “now. What is Daniel’s condition”. That’s a demand not a question.

He can hear the wince in her voice, good, and her tones shaky, for a change he’s hoping that’s from fear of him. “He’s… he’s out of the hospital now, Vlad. He’s-”.

What. “You mean to tell me he was in hospital and you didn’t call me immediately. Madeline, what the butter biscuits is wrong with you two!”. This was completely unacceptable. He paces in a circle, he wanted her to just hang up already so he can head over there personally and shoot something just to get across how unbelievably pissed and unimpressed he is. As it is he’s seriously debating throwing one of his crystal whiskey glasses at a wall.

“I, we knew you’d be mad and, Vlad, it’s not the same. There’s no ecto-acne, his hair’s the same. The doctor even said he was having a perfectly normal reaction to high voltage electrocution. His vitals weren’t even wonky!”.

Jack blurting out, “we were confused! Relieved but confused!”.

Vlad pauses, stilling, “he… doesn’t have ecto-acne? None of my symptoms?”. That… then perhaps the boy would be fine? Wouldn’t be changed by them?

Maddie clearly bites her lip, “no and I thought that, maybe, if you were around, with your ecto-field, that might change things. I thought it was a risk and I knew you’d come immediately if we called”.

Vlad pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs aggressively. He supposes they very well could have a point there. As there would be no way to safely confirm if Vlad being near would have some effect on someone else who got caught in a portal. It would genuinely be a risk. Even if she had explained that worry to him he knows he would have gone anyway, he wouldn’t have been able to take her at her word. He still can’t, won’t. “I want you to send me his medical records, immediately. I’ll read them on my way”.

“I’d chastise you about distracted flying but, I understand. We’ve poured over them already and they really are normal. But, he’s- something’s not right even if he keeps saying he’s fine”.

Vlad glares at a wall, it melts slightly, “butter biscuits”, at least his tablet pings an email, him transforming as he opens it, it’s the medical files. Him nodding to himself, at least they had the files on standby already, “got them. I’ll be there shortly. However, do know that I am not impressed”, and he hangs up without giving them the chance to say goodbyes or see you soons.

Him flying out a window and flipping through his tablet, the files are… somehow perfectly normal and Vlad is a little baffled. His own records showed himself as having a disturbingly low heart rate and blood pressure, an extreme feverish body temp, and far too few breaths per minute. Daniel’s was: eighty two bpm, one-twenty over eighty mmHg, ninety-seven point nine Fahrenheit, and a respiratory rate of eleven. His respiratory was on the lower end but it wasn’t actively concerning, Vlad himself often averaged only four.

Normal was good. But Madeline said she still felt something wasn’t right, perhaps she was simply paranoid or perhaps the electrocution had simply raised Daniel’s vitals for a period of time. Vlad shaking his head, the fact that the boy had been inside of the portal and electrocuted instead of simply blasted in the face by pure ecto-energy was horrific; but perhaps such an unfortunate experience would prevent him from becoming something no longer truly human. Vlad did consider himself better for how he is now, but that didn’t make the process of become content with it a pleasant one, it also didn’t make being a halfa a good thing as it arguably was not. It was a rather lonely existence, which Vlad would rather not see changed in this particular instance. It could one day get him experimented on by his own government, and under that same government he did not truly have rights. He had nothing he could compare himself to, for curiosities sake or for the sake of his well being. There was also the simple fact that having powers resulted in his view of the world and other people being undeniably altered. The mental changes and instincts were an entirely separate issue, one he’s embraced, but that applies to him and perhaps not to a young teenage boy.

He now rather wished it had been Maddie or Jack that had gotten caught in their own creation, rather than a child.

Either way, he’s here now. Floating invisibly above the FentonWorks building and feeling the desire to blast that sign of theirs out of frustration and annoyance. One would think after what happened with him they’d be even slightly more careful, but apparently not. He lands with a scowl, phasing through the front door and, at the sight that only Maddie and Jack appearing to be around, transforms back into his human form and drops his invisibility; both of them jerk a little and he glares instead of half heartedly apologising or mocking them. “Where is he”. It’s not a question and they know it. Vlad can smell that the boy’s not here, and he’s none too pleased about that.

Jack rubs his neck, “school”. While Maddie winces. Vlad glaring a little more, “he just got of the hospital for at the very least being electrocuted and you sent him to school”.

Maddie standing up from her chair, hands up pacifyingly, “he wanted to, Vlad”, dropping her hands, “even Jazz tried to get him to stay home but he got mad at her for being overbearing and still left”.

Jack frowning, “he’s been making almost every excuse he can to not be here, kinda part of our worry you know?”, and laughs in that awkward way that Vlad knows means he’s upset and possibly even scared.

Vlad rubs his temples and walks in further, “I suppose that’s acceptable then, but what teen actually wants to go to school?”.

“Jazz thinks he’s traumatised and doesn’t want to be around the portal”, Maddie frowns, “which is understandable”.

Vlad scowling, “yes, yes it is”.

Jack tilting his head in confusion, “but he’s still cleaning the lab, like he’s supposed to so I don’t think Jazz’s theory makes sense”.

Vlad blinks at the man, he can’t be serious. “You’re telling me, you have Daniel who was just in a portal accident cleaning your lab? Surrounded by ectoplasm samples and mess. Jack, I am genuinely debating trying to beat you up”. The man looks apologetic rather than frightened, which is a fair bit grating. Giving Maddie a hard look, “how can you justify him being around that if you were worried about him being around me”.

“We don’t really know how different your ecto-field is, Vlad. And you give off a ton more than any samples we have. For all any of us know there could be some form of halfa gene or energy in yours”.

Alright, Vlad can admit that could very well be the case. Sighing, “fine. I still don’t approve”, moving into the kitchen/dinning room fully, “now what about him seems wrong? I know him being avoidant, of you two or the lab or merely the portal would not be enough to set off alarm bells”. After all, such behaviour would be perfectly normal and human.

Maddie frowns and grabs a sample vial out of the fridge, “we found blood and ectoplasm in the bathroom this morning, and remembering what… happened with you and your wings, well”, she hands it over to him and he gets her concern immediately, it looks like one of his own samples. “It’s not separating out like human blood and ghost ectoplasm normally does. Normally does, with any sample that isn’t from you or someone severely contaminated long term”.

Vlad nods at the sample, this was near as good as proof to him. He winces a bit internally though, feeling a bit of a pang of sympathy for the boy. The wings ‘coming out’ as it were, was incredibly unpleasant. He’s glad Jack and Maddie had been there for that, to ‘help’ even if it was mostly them getting things straightened out and cleaning him up when he was frankly too exhausted to do it himself. However this meant they weren’t there for their son, which would be the more important one to be there for. Rolling his right shoulder a bit, “I’m assuming there’s more, because yes, him just being contaminated is a viable option”.

Jack nods, “he keeps dropping things and acts very freaked out after”. Maddie nodding at her husband then looking back to Vlad, “I’m fairly certain I saw his cereal spoon go through his fingers rather than just dropping it. And he has that unnerving aura around him that you do, I might be desensitised to it but that doesn’t mean I don’t still feel it sometimes”, and she laughs playfully a little.

Vlad glaring, flashing his eyes at her, “I’m not in the mood, Madeline”; making her wince. Vlad pinching the bridge of his nose yet again, eyes squeezing shut, “alright, so it would seem that Daniel is mostly likely a halfa now, correct?”. Dropping his hand and eyeing them as they both nod, “yet he did not have ecto-acne or abnormal vitals?”. More nodding, “and he’s being avoidant of a house full of ghost hunting gear as well as the two ghost hunters who reside in it?”.

Maddie smacks herself in the face immediately, Jack thumping his head down on the table. Maddie groaning, “why did we not clue in to that? Ugh. He’s afraid we’re going to hurt him or hunt him”. Jack snapping his head up, “we would never!”.

Vlad gives them a bit of a pitying look, eyeing Jack specifically, “you two found out the same time I did about my altered state of being, there was never a chance for me to have those kinds of worries”, scoffing, “not that I would have. But Daniel is a child. His brain isn’t even fully developed, it’s a wonder he didn’t run away on you. Of course he’s afraid of ghost hunters if he’s a ghost himself”. They both wince at least.

And the then house phone goes off, Maddie picking it up immediately, “hello?”.

Vlad tilts his head, his ghostly hearing making it easy to listen in. “Hey Mrs. Fenton. Was wondering if Danny could spend the night? We got a big project and apparently the dummy forgot to actually do his part”. That reeks of a lie, it’s not a bad one though, he’ll give what sounds like a teen girl that much; it was most likely that Samantha girl.

Maddie eyes the vial now sitting on the table, hopefully she’s thinking what he is, Daniel’s friends knew and were trying to help him, most likely with the fresh wings. Vlad would gamble a concerning amount of money on the belief that Daniel most certainly did not actually go to school and neither did his friends. Maddie shakes her head to herself, “I would really rather he come home, I’m sure any school work he needs to do is important but I’d like him home”.

Vlad rolls his eyes, the woman was going to make the boy a bundle of nerves, so he walks over and phases the phone out of her grip, making her jump. She glares at him and puts her hands on her hips, “what do you think you’re doing?”. Vlad simply smirks, said smirk likely airing on the ‘villainous’ side, before giving his attention to the phone, “tell young Daniel that his godfather would like to see him and that said grandfather is not unfamiliar with certain portal-related accidents, as it were”. Maddie looks worried. Him moving the phone away from his ear and covering the mic, “relax, dear Maddie. Being blunt with the boy is far better than making him scared to come home”.

The, “what are you talking about?!?”, that comes through the phone making all three of them wince from the static and warble. Maddie paling a little and leaning against the counter, after all, that kind of vocal effect was explicitly ghostly and one she’s heard from Vlad quite literally today multiple times. It was more solid proof. A different male voice, that isn’t spectrally infused, pipes up in the background, “dude, your voice?”.

Hmmm, yes his friends did indeed know. Vlad smirking a little again, “Daniel, tell that friend of yours not to worry about your voice, it’s perfectly normal when emotional”.

“Um. Uh. Okay?”. Oh the boy sounds so unsure and freaked out, Vlad almost wants to mock him a little. It sounds like he’s turned his head away from the phone, “um, so apparently what just happened is normal? And my uncle god father guy might be, you know, kinda like me or something? And I should probably actually go home”.

Then the girls voice again, “if your parents shoot you, I’m stabbing them and burying their bodies in my garden”.

The other male sounds like he’s frowning, “do you want us to go with? You know, moral support?”.

It would seem Daniel had good friends. A blessing indeed. Hopefully they were less reckless and idiotic than Vlad’s own friends, regardless of how fond of them he was. However, Vlad has no interest in explaining himself to three teenagers, Daniel needed the information the other two could hear it from him, “I’d much rather not have this conversation with three hormonal teenagers”.

Daniel is clearly still talking to his friends, “okay so that’s a no, Tuck. Apparently we’re too hormonal”.

“More like homicidal, I do have boots with knives inside them”.

“I’m not wearing your shoes, Sam”.

“You don’t need to wear them! Throw them!”.

“Your shoes weigh, like, twenty goddamn pounds?”.

The boy butts into the argument, “I’m not sure that matters anymore, man. You accidentally lifted up my dad’s car”.

“Shut up, Tuck. Ugh”. Daniel’s attention does seem to return to the phone at that, “am I in trouble?”.

Vlad rolls his eyes, “hardly. The only ones in trouble are two reckless scientists who let this happen for a second time”; he throws another glare at the two who smartly wince and glance away.

Daniel almost excited whispers, “oh my god my parents are in trouble, that’s kinda awesome”; his friends laugh in the background.

“Well if you find that amusing, come home and mock them”.

Daniel sighs, “okay fine”.

Vlad nodding to himself, “good. Now for the love of all the Gouda in the world, do not try to bind or strap down your, let’s say, feathered friends, you’ll just damage them and bent feathers are hardly becoming of a man or boy”. Vlad took expert care of his wings and he wasn’t about to tolerate Daniel not doing the same, or everything forbid misshaping them.

This time Daniel actually squeaks, “okay”, then hangs up.

Vlad feels quite content with himself actually. Looking to Maddie and Jack, who still look rather awkward, “he’s coming. Now hopefully I don’t need to tell you two to avoid staring or trying to take samples from him”, he doesn’t like that they appear slightly confused, “Daniel isn’t me, I was and am an adult and an ecto-ologist myself, he is neither”.

Maddie sighs and nods to herself, “right right, he needs us a parents only and the last thing we’d want to do is make him feel like an experiment”.

Vlad nodding strongly right back, “indeed”.

Jack smacking his fist into his hand and springing up, “oh! We should change so we’re not in the, you know, ghost hunter stuff!”. Vlad chuckling a little, “that’s not a bad idea”, which makes the man run off upstairs. Maddie shaking her head fondly and moving to follow after him; Vlad watching her go.

They were fools but they cared, it was only too bad their foolishness had to bring harm unto others so often. Yes Daniel’s own actions had been foolish, much like Vlad’s had been, but that boy was a child and that made a world of difference. A child should have the expectation that something that could alter their very being and species wouldn’t be left unattended and plugged in inside an unlocked room. Daniel was well within reason to believe that the worst that could happen was a slight burn or small shock, a cut perhaps. Not death, by half or full.

Daniel arrives before his parents actually finish changing, getting in and out of biohazard suits wasn’t exactly easy, even for Vlad since he couldn’t phase through the material. Arguably this was for the best, Vlad was watching the door, leaning back against the kitchen entryway wall, as Daniel sticks his head in cautiously. Daniel spotting him, stares, looking confused, so Vlad gestures at his eyes and flashes them their ghostly red. Daniel jumps a little before relaxing and moving inside fully, he’s… holding a blanket around his shoulders even if it’s not doing much to hide that there’s something large underneath. Vlad definitely wants to mock him, very badly in fact, drawling a very sarcastic, “impeccable fashion choices, Daniel. I applaud you”.

Daniel scowls at him, “what else am I supposed to do, you jerk”, there’s a bit of humour in his eyes so Vlad counts that as a win. Daniel glancing around as the door shuts and he shuffles inside more, “where are, mom and dad?”.

“Upstairs at the moment”, Vlad eyes the ground around the boy, no shadow. Daniel is absolutely a halfa, even with wings he could still technically be merely extremely contaminated, but without a shadow there’s no way he’s fully human. Light simply passed through their kind in the same way it did with ghosts and there was nothing that could be done about that. Which yes, was part of why Vlad preferred to avoid needless public appearances.

Daniel nods, eyeing Vlad, “so, where’s yours? Or were you just yanking my chain?”.

Vlad rolls his eyes at that, pushing himself off the wall and letting his wings unfurl out through the holes he had in the backs off all his clothes these days, crimson red feathers lining the inside and his white ones covering the outside. Stretching one out to flick Daniel in the forehead with the primary feathers. Daniel stares wide-eyed, “how did you do that? How do you hide them?! I have so many questions”.

Vlad chuckles, his blatant curiosity, with no hints of horror or distrubia was a genuinely welcome reaction. It reminded him of Jack, except without getting his very fresh at the time feathers grabbed and prodded. Folding his wings up against his back again, though leaving them out instead of reabsorbing them, “I imagine so”, walking over towards Daniel and grabbing the blanket he’s still using as a cover and pulling it up some, ignoring Daniel’s clear embarrassment. “We’re malleable things, absorbing them inside ourselves is a simple though uncomfortable task”. The constant full sensation in his torso and the aches from wings that wanted to be stretched out could be incredibly annoying and cumbersome. Humming, “yours are much too fresh though, you need to heal first. I can say the colour seems to suit you well though”. The red inner feathers of his own used to confuse him, until he grew up and stablised into his more vampiric appearance anyways. Daniel’s were white and seemed to shimmer or sparkle like fresh snow, which went well with his pale skin; they even felt cold like snow, was his core an ice type perhaps? The black tipping on all the feathers, as well as his lesser coverts and alula feathers being black was a decent accent and went well with his dark hair. If Vlad had to guess, Daniel’s tertial feathers are black as well.

Daniel blinks, apparently a little baffled by how calm Vlad was being, “yours… go with your eyes?”

Alright yes, Vlad laughs at that, “they suit me more than you can tell, boy”.

Daniel snorts at that and rolls his eyes, “whatever, old man”, though his fidgeting fingers give away his nerves.

“Alright! Is he here yet!”, Jack pops down the stairs in his stupid ghost themed overalls, how did that man not understand that those things did not flatter him at all? Jack brightening up at seeing his son, and basically bounding down the stairs. Daniel pulling the wing out of Vlad’s grasp and hiding it under the blanket again, “oh! Um, hi? Dad?”, cringing dramatically, “what are you wearing?!”. See even Daniel understands it’s unbecoming.

Vlad has no desire to play a game of ‘beat around the bush’ so he nods to Jack, and Maddie as she comes down as well, “he doesn’t have a shadow, meaning that yes, he’s a halfa as well”.

“I- wait what?”, Daniel looks down, “what do you mean in don’t have a shadow?”, does a little circle spin ‘thing’ while staring at the ground and blinking, “holy shit I don’t have a shadow”.

“Language, my boy”. Had he seriously not noticed? Well Vlad knows which parent he got that lack of attention to detail from, as endearing as that particular flaw could be it wasn’t a good one.

Maddie gives Vlad a bit of a pinched smile before making a point to hold Jack back from crowding the boy, her walking up and ruffling Daniel’s hair, Daniel eyeing the bare hand cautiously. “To be fair, sweety, we didn’t notice either”.

Perhaps he got it from both of them. How unfortunate. Vlad shakes his head, stepping back a little to let the mother look over her son and the father hover close enough by that it doesn’t quite qualify as crowding. Vlad huffing, “considering you didn’t notice an entire misplaced on switch I’m not sure why I’m surprised”.

Both parents wince but Daniel blinks at him a bit owlishly, it absolutely does not come off as human, “wait, how do you know that?”.

Jack rubbing his neck and getting his son’s attention, “well, we inspected the portal after your, uh, accident. We wanted to know how it happened, since we thought it was completely nonfunctional”.

“Right. Your ground breaking life’s work. Got it”. Even Vlad cringes from that response, it was explicitly bitter.

Jack holds up his hands, looking awkward as he should for that comment. “No not just how you got it to work. More like how it worked at all, every other time we’ve failed it had to be completely reworked so it should have been fine not being unplugged… or locked… which yeah was really stupid of us. Heh”, and rubs his neck.

Vlad sighs, touching a few fingers to his forehead, “what your buffoon of a father is trying to say is that he wanted to know how you were even able to get hurt”, then glaring at Jack, “I am still fully tempted to smack both of you over the head, know that”.

Daniel actually looks amused and pleased at that; progress. And stares a little surprised when Jack smacks Vlad on the back a couple of times, paying no mind to the wings. Muttering to himself, “Huh, I guess they are okay”. Meanwhile Vlad’s simply trying to stop himself from getting knocked over.

Maddie nodding and startling the boy a little, “we’ve had twenty years to get used to him and all the changes that happened, you’re fine and we definitely are not going to shoot you or anything of that sort”. Jack nodding and grinning in agreement readily.

Vlad inspects his nails a little, “I’d be quite annoyed if that wasn’t the case”, waving at Jack dismissively while speaking to Daniel again, “your father was more explicitly responsible for my little accident”, huffing, “though I’ll admit sticking my face directly in front of a potentially viable proto portal was indeed foolish”.

“I mean, at least you didn’t try to put it around your neck to wear it like a collar”.

Vlad blinks at the boy, a bit affronted, “that would be utterly imbecilic rather than just foolish”.

Maddie blinks before putting a hand over her face again, “right, yeah”, looking at Vlad, “we caught him doing that with another proto portal model, that’s why we stopped making them”.

Vlad smacks Daniel over the back of the head immediately, “you are a danger to yourself and a complete moron. Child or no”.

Daniel squawks, “ow! Hey!”, and covers his head with his hands, “it was funny!”; this all resulting in him dropping the blanket, which thumps to the ground quietly considering how much it doing so revealed. Daniel blinking owlishly again and eyeing his folks as they get their first proper glimpse of the wings.

Vlad humming to himself while the boy has an internal crisis or two, “hmmm, I was right, your tertials are indeed black”.

“My, what?”.

Vlad unfolds a wing some and gesture at the fluffier feathers that stayed close to his side and back, “the inner most feathers, the only ones that actually stay ‘fluffy’”, gesturing at Daniel’s fuzzy fluffy feathers, “you have feather down right now, that’ll go away with age”. Vlad only had to put up with that for around two years if he remembers right, Daniel’s would likely stick around for at least four; that thought making him snicker at the boy, “give it a few years, at least four, I’d say”. Daniel pouts at him.

Jack beams, “meaning more time for cute baby ghost pictures!”; that Daniel absolutely fully groans at, burying his face in his hands. “We only have five of Vlad”.

Vlad scowling, “and here I thought I burned all of those”.

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t now?!”, Jack’s grin is almost mean which is strange to see on the jubilant man, “now Danny-boy can see them!”. At least that makes Daniel laugh into his hand.

Vlad rolls his eyes, though he supposes the bonding would be worth the embarrassment. As well as reassuring to the boy that he’s normal, for their species anyways. Though… Daniel still has his wings as scrunched up and as pressed into himself as possible, he wasn’t relaxing them at all. Sighing at the boy, “the more difficult you make healing the longer it’ll take to be able to hide them”.

“Huh?”.

Vlad ignores him, as well as his parents looks of concern, and moves around Daniel to physically grab the wings and force them open and away from his back a bit. Daniel yelping and attempting to jerk out of Vlad’s grasp, “hey!”.

Vlad just glares at the very sloppy stitch work and bandaging attached with, of all things, scotch tap. This would scar horrifically if not corrected immediately, “by Gouda, who did this? This is going to heal horribly even without you trying to scrunch your wings up out of existence. Kitchen table, now, we’re fixing this”. Vlad doesn’t care that the boy is clearly embarrassed when Jack and Maddie tilt their heads over or physically move to get a look and cringe themselves.

At least Daniel does move into the kitchen, not moving his wings at all from the position Vlad effectively moved them into, good, smart boy. Daniel grumbling, “Sam did and I think she did a great job”.

“A great job for a teenager not for a doctor. Any doctor who did this would lose their license on the spot or I’d sue them into bankruptcy”.

Jack brings over their medi kit, the one they’d use on him on the rare occasion it was needed. Vlad liked to pride himself on rarely getting injured even when dealing with ghosts. Of course one can’t employ ghosts without out first proving why they’re the employer and not the employee. Skulker in particular took a while to beat down into submission. Maddie getting out what’s needed from the kit while Daniel sits down on one of the stools, “um, why is the thread in there glowing?”.

Maddie’s response is automatic and she doesn’t take her eyes off of her task, “it’s phase proof, so you won’t accidentally phase it out of your skin”.

“Oh okay, yeah that makes sense I guess”.

Vlad rolls his eyes, “I would hope so. Now hold still and don’t fold your wings in”. It was fairly clear Daniel was more comfortable with him touching his wings, likely because Vlad had his own pair, so Vlad maneuvers the wings around for Maddie as she does her work. Vlad, figuring he might as well use this time to explain and to distract the boy from the pain of this, hums, “Jack and Maddie said you’ve been clumsy, dropping things, so I take it your having issues with the powers?”. Vlad had had some control issues in the beginning, but not much. In fact, Vlad didn’t get his powers for quite a while after his accident and they came one by one and very painfully. They always stung and felt foreign the first few times, it seemed like Daniel might not be having such issues.

Daniel flushing, “oh um, yeah? It’s just comes so easily, naturally or whatever, that it kinda just keeps happening?”.

Vlad quirking a single well manicured eyebrow, “and it doesn’t hurt? At all?”.

Daniel turns his head to give Vlad a confused look, “no? Should it?”.

Jack looks relieved and gets Daniel’s attention, responding before Vlad can, “oh yeah, it was pretty bad every time a new one cropped up. Sure it was cool too! But the pain and it making his ecto-acne flair up really made it kinda suck. I totally freaked out the first time”.

Maddie nodding as she threads some more of the ecto-line, “to be fair, your best friend falling through his bed, and all his medications and monitors, while screaming would be very scary to anyone”.

Vlad huffing, “I will not admit to being terrified at the time”, was saying that basically admitting to it? Absolutely not and no one can convince him otherwise.

Daniel huffing, “then I’m not admitting to being scared either, jerk”, shaking his head gently, hopefully with the purpose of not disturbing Maddie or causing himself more pain. How well he could hide pain was a little concerning. “Should I be worried I’m not getting pain from it and stuff? And each time you got a new one?”, Daniel quirks an eyebrow, “you didn’t just get everything all at once? Ecto-acne?”.

“That level of pain would have likely knocked me unconscious for multiple days, so no. I got my powers slowly over multiple years, which were spent hospitalised”. Humming and tapping his chin, he wonders why they’re different like this? He’s clearly a halfa and not a full ghost, otherwise he wouldn’t look human at all and he wouldn’t still have a human scent; yes it was tinted with ectoplasm but it was still human. Could it be because his own accident was with a proto portal and not a genuine one? Or did the size and power output matter? Perhaps how much of the body was engulfed at once? Since it sounded like Daniel’s entire body was blasted all at once, while only his face was affected. Perhaps that was why Daniel didn’t get ecto-acne?

Jack scratches his head, “I don’t think? you need to worry? There really isn’t an ‘normal’ way this works since Vlad’s the only halfa we all know of. And your, uh accidents, were pretty different”.

Daniel quirks an eyebrow at Jack then turns the look on Vlad, clearly wanting an explanation. Vlad shrugging like talking about it didn’t really bother him, “I got blasted in the face, and only the face, by a proto portal that quite possibly had contaminated ectoplasm in it. Where as it sounds like you got blasted head to toe by a genuine fully functional portal, that would definitely have been using pure ectoplasm otherwise it wouldn’t be working”, frowning, “I also did not get electrocuted, so it is not as if you got out of this pain free”.

Daniel winces, “yeah that wasn’t fun”. Maddie and Jack also wincing, it looks like Maddie’s got the first wing back tear stitched up properly now.

Jack rubbing his neck and eyeing his son, “we are really sorry that happened though”.

Daniel shrugs, making Vlad smack him over the head again, Daniel grumbling and rubbing the back of his head, “ow. And it’s fine, dad. I shouldn’t have been messing with stuff”.

Vlad scoffs, “it shouldn’t have been accessible for you to mess with in the first place”. Making both parents look thoroughly chastised, good.

Daniel glares at Vlad, “I would have picked the lock anyways”.

Maddie glares at his back for that, “since when did you pick up lock picking, mister”.

“Uh, Tuck has a bad habit of locking himself out of his house? Sam thinks it’s too funny to help and he can’t pick a lock to save his life?”.

Vlad grins meanly, “what a budding little criminal you are”.

“Hey!”.

Vlad studiously ignores the glares Maddie and Jack throw him, clearly trying to discourage Vlad from being a more illegal bad influence on their kid. Vlad putting a proud hand to his chest, “perhaps you shall follow in my footsteps and start robbing banks”.

Maddie’s scowl can be heard in her voice, “Vlad”. Jack pouts at him, “you know we would have paid your hospital bills”.

“I have no interest in being indebted to others because of money, such things are beneath me”.

Daniel gives him an affronted look, pity, “I am not robbing banks, what the hell uncle?!? Why would you use powers for that?!? I’d use them to, like, рⷬrͬoͦᴛⷮeͤcͨᴛⷮ people or something first”.

Vlad blinks at the inhuman ghostly subvocal to that, which he’s sure Jack and Maddie didn’t pick up on. They didn’t pick up on it when he himself did it, over that pesky little possession obsession. Perhaps Daniel’s own obsession was protection based… Vlad may have to cautious of that, as he could see himself bothering a protective obsession. Beyond Jack’s and Maddie’s well being, he hardly cares if his endeavours harm others. He’s not going to comment on his suspicions though, it was rude to out another ghosts, or halfas, obsession like that and opened yourself up for attack. Jack grins, “that’s my boy!”. Making Vlad roll his eyes at the large man.

Daniel flushes though and Vlad can pick up on the slightly concerned off put look on his face, the boy likely noticed something was off with his comment. That there was a strong pushy undercurrent of pure want in there and likely in his chest as well; even if he’s positive Daniel’s core hasn’t developed enough for him to genuinely feel it yet. Daniel clearing his throat, “so um, our accidents were really different then”.

Vlad smirks at the boy, who glares back, before nodding his head, “indeed. And I suspect my ecto-acne played a large role in my being in pain and perhaps also why I took years for my powers to develop”.

Jack nods, tapping his chin, “I really wish we knew exactly why that ecto-acne happened”. Vlad nodding readily, it was something they would probably never figure out. (He would later find out, due to his ecto-acne returning and Daniel trying to help him, that it was because of pop in the filtrator. He was incredibly infuriated by that, and Jack apologising profusely didn’t little to temper his anger).

Vlad eyeing Daniel, Maddie seemed almost done with the other wing back tear, “now, care to enlighten me on your abilities? It would be best to confirm if they’re the same as mine”. At the boy eyeing him cautiously Vlad rolls his eyes with a huff, “invisibility, intangibility, gravity nullification or floating in layman’s terms, enhanced senses, increased physical ability and durability, duplication, ecto-blasts, ecto-shields, transformation, overshadowing, healing factor, teleportation, body modification or contortion, mild electrokenisis, pyrokenisis, power augmentation, ecto-twister, and a resistance to anti-ghost tech”. He studiously ignores the proud smile on Maddie’s and Jack’s faces, they always got oddly proud over how powerful he was. Yes he himself took great pride in that, being able to best relatively any ghost he came across, but as full humans they should find that unsettling and perhaps it wounded his pride a little that they did not.

Daniel blinks in that owlish way again, Vlad’s going to have to talk to him about breaking that forming habit, then whistles, “well damn, uncle. That’s nothing to piss at”.

All three adults look at him disgusted. Vlad scowling deeply, “I would rather no one ever piss on me, Daniel. That is disgusting”. Right, he always forgets that Daniel has a rather peculiar and annoying sense of humour.

Maddie shaking her head while doing up the last stitch and standing up, stretching a little and handing her tools off to Jack to clean up, “alright, you’ll be good once I get you bandaged”.

Daniel looks over his shoulder and wing a little awkwardly, “uh, thank you? Thanks, mom”, and forces a smile at her.

She ruffles his hair with a genuine soft smile, “of course, Danny. You’re more than welcome to come to us if you ever get hurt, we can teach Sam and Tuck too if you’re more comfortable with that”. Jack holding up a finger, “and them knowing would probably be a good idea anyway. Never know when you’re going to get hurt!”.

Vlad sighing and massaging his temples, “yes of course, especially since as soon as the ghosts find out there’s another halfa, they’ll want to test your metal”.

Daniel blinks, “what?”, while Maddie sorts out which bandaging she wants to use.

“Fight you, Daniel. It’s part of how ghosts socialise and establish their standing compared to each other. Ghosts are very much rule of the strong”, looking to Jack, “you two have been sticking to teaching him combat, right”. Jack nodding readily, so Vlad nods back, “good”, looking back to Daniel, “now stop dodging the powers question. Your parents aren’t freaked out by mine, they won’t be freaked out by yours”.

Jack giving his son a thumbs up, “dont worry, Danny-boy. And ghosts vary a lot and you’re young and new, so if you’ve got less than Vladdie that’s likely super normal”. Vlad nods like that’s obvious, because it was.

Daniel flushes, “uh, well I don’t think I can do all that? But I think I’m, uh, stronger than I was a few days ago”.

Vlad nodding, “you were freshly formed, as it were, a few days ago. I doubt every single ability you’ll have would have developed immediately or within a few days”.

Daniel chuckles awkwardly and rubs his neck, Maddie tapping in his back to remind him not to move too much, making Daniel look even more awkward, “yeah I guess that makes sense”, tilting his head, “um, so far then, I don’t have anything you don’t I think? Invisibility, intangibility, the gravity thing, the heightened physical ability which I’m guessing is strength and speed and stuff, probably the healing factor, body morphing, I don’t think the voice echo thing counts as a power-”.

Vlad snorts, “it does not, good for intimidation though”.

Daniel makes a face at him but continues, “-my senses are better, and transformation”.

All three adults blink, surprised. Vlad titling his head, “you can transform already? Into your more ghostly appearance?”.

Daniel’s, “yes?”, is very awkward and mousy.

Jack beams and jumps, it’s rather embarrassing and childish. “Awesome! I bet you look awesome and very spooky!”, laughing, “it took ol’ Vladdie, like, six years to do that! And! He usually couldn’t hold it for very long!”.

Vlad grumbles, not pouts, grumbles at the man, “I was still healing and it’s an entirely deferent state of being, of course I had issues, Jack”. Jack just grins and laughs a little more.

Daniel tilts his head but chuckles at Vlad, “I think it’s easy, I mean sure I detransform, I guess, accidentally. And it’s kinda weird getting it to work, but when I really remember the how I can do it”.

Maddie nods, giving the bandaging a pat down before staring up, “alright, your good”, moving her head to be more in Danny’s line of sight, “you feel like showing us? Your other form?”, then looking at Vlad with a quirked eyebrow, “I’m sure your uncle Vlad wouldn’t object to showing you his?”.

Vlad waves her off, “oh but of course, you know how much I love to show off”.

Daniel looks at him blatantly curious, though clearly also nervous.

So Vlad steps back a bit and does a little bit of a dramatic bow while letting his transformation rings travel over his body. A little curious about Daniel’s muttered, “why are his black?”. Regardless, Vlad straightens up in his ghostly form, making a point to keep his feet planted in the ground.

Daniel stares a little, tilting his head at an angle that’s a little past humanly possible, “wow you look way different”, then snickering, “very vampire, nice horn hair”.

Vlad is well aware he is being mocked. Today he’ll tolerate such insult, since he’s effectively explaining for the first time being a halfa to another halfa who is also a child, his godson at that. “Yes yes, laugh it up”.

“Did you always look this different?”.

“Yes and no, I bulked up a lot and my hair changed. The fangs, ear points, and claws are all adult ghost traits as well”.

Jack grinning at Daniel, “meaning you shouldn’t have them now but will one day”, and only grins more at his son’s groan.

Vlad nodding, crossing his arms, “and if you get into fights, you’ll likely bulk up at least in ghost form. Now, you wondered at my rings being black, are yours not?”.

Daniel shrinks down a little, “I, um. No?”. And glances around, all three adults giving him encouraging gestures. Daniel flushing a little and clearing his throat, nodding a little. Vlad has a genuinely hard time not mocking the boy when he mutters a very quiet, “I’m going ghost”, before the white -different indeed- rings appear. Perhaps a… catchphrase helped the boy focus on the change? Regardless all three eye the more ghostly version of Daniel as the rings finish their job. Vlad’s almost miffed at how the transformation did seem easy for him, but oh well.

Daniel’s ghost form has a black hazmat suit with white gloves and white boots, his hair’s also a very shocking white. Vlad’s a little surprised his green eyes still have black pupils and white sclera, perhaps that would change as he grew into adulthood? Some ghosts did have black pupils and white sclera though, so it may very well just be the way his eyes are naturally. Daniel… looks incredibly similar to his human half, far more than Vlad ever did. Perhaps it was due to how quickly his ghost form formed? “Well you certainly don’t look all that different”. Daniel just shrugs awkwardly and jumps a little, remaining floating in the air after, at Maddie ruffling his hair; Daniel's hair waved around almost flame-like at the action.

Jack grins at Daniel, “I say it suits you! You have a pretty strong glow too!”.

Vlad leaning over some to hold his own arm up near Daniel’s having to phase through some of the boys left wing, Daniel’s glow is actually brighter than his own, if only by a hair. If Daniel was equal to him in experience and skill then Vlad’s not certain he could actually win. That was slightly concerning, on a ghostly level, no strong ghost liked the potential of a stronger one. But it was also quite thrilling, this boy could perhaps challenge him and could be something special if trained well; that prospect was incredibly enticing actually. Very thrilling indeed. “A strong glow is good, no godson of mine should be weak”.

Daniel blinking and looking at his arm, “so my… glow means I’m strong?”.

All three adults nod, Vlad standing back up right and crossing his arms again, “a stronger glow means you’re shedding off a high output of ecto-energy, it means you’ve got a high amount of natural ecto-energy. That your body self produces and filters a larger amount of ecto-energy”, humming, “though it may very well be that all halfas are powerful by our nature, as it is we don’t have to expend our energy to merely exist; however it does use up energy to remain in our ghost form”.

Daniel nods, soaking up the information, oh having an apprentice was going to be delightful. “Yeah I’ve notice I get tired after a while”, tilting his head a little at Vlad, “and so we, I, am a halfa?”, and looks to his parents for confirmation as well.

All three nodding readily, Jack beaming, “half a ghost, half a human; that’s what all the ghosts went with! Even if most of ‘em would lie just to amuse themselves”.

Vlad shrugs, “many ghosts are alright enough, particularly the useful ones”.

Daniel frowning, “yeah I don’t think I’m going to be ‘using ghosts’”. Vlad scoffing and waving the boy off, far too moral, this one.

Maddie smiles, pleased, “well you will likely get into fights, Vlad’s made it clear that’s unavoidable, so I fully expect you to take target practice and your martial arts a little more seriously”.

Vlad gesturing with a hand, “and ghost power training, of course. A well aimed ecto-blast will get you much further than a thrown punch”.

“And if I can’t do that?”.

“I’ll be baffled if you can’t, but everything has a work around if you look for it”, grinning all fang, “hold up a hand and imagine that tingling vibration throughout your entire body flow into the air above your palm, condensing into a tight pulsating sphere”.

Daniel blinks but stares at his hand, furrowing his brows in concentration, he jumps a little as a green ecto-blast forms above his palm. Him startling himself, of course, results in him losing focus and sending the blast into the ceiling. Him laughing awkwardly, “oops?”.

Jack smacks him on the back, making the boys wings twitch, “no worries, Danno! You should have seen the amount of things Vladdie set on fire!”. Daniel chuckles, loosening up a little, until Jack grabs his wing to inspect them anyways, “now let’s have a look at these! Since you’re all patched up now!”, and basically pulls the floating Daniel off his stool.

The boy giving both Vlad and Maddie slightly pleading looks, Vlad shakes his head while Maddie gives him a soft smile, “just let your dad get it out of his system”. Daniel groans but does let Jack effectively manhandle him, spinning him in the air and stretching out his wings to inspect them better. Eventually Daniel stuck holding onto the table when Jack decides to see just how long Daniel’s wing span was. They were needlessly long wings, frankly. His humerus bone was practically the length of half of Vlad’s wing. Incredibly showy, like a peacock. He’ll have to see if that’s just for show, or if the boy can put genuine speed and power behind them.

Maddie crossing her arms at her husband, “Jack, dear, that’s enough, you’re going to give him a strain at this point”. Daniel grumbling a, “thanks mom”, when Jack sheepishly lets go of the poor boys wings.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Danny-boy!”.

Daniel glances around awkwardly, “it’s, uh, okay, dad”, rubbing his neck, “it’s better than you being scared of me or trying to hunt me or something”.

Jack’s, “we’d never!”, is thankfully immediate. As it should be. Daniel was his own son after all. Vlad would be quite displeased if he found out they were hunting him in any capacity.

Vlad blinking before smirking, turning his head towards the kitchen entry way, based on sound and scent those friends of Daniel’s have shown up, ears pressed up to the door perhaps. Vlad chuckles meanly, “you two can come in, instead of trying to spy. Your friend is perfectly fine”.

Daniel jerking in the air before zipping over to the door as if it was mere second nature to him already. Vlad is absolutely a bit jealous, not that he would admit to such feelings. Jack elbowing him, “he’s got the hang of this a lot faster than you”. Vlad snarls at the man, it’s a ‘playful’ threat and Jack absolutely knows that.

Meanwhile the door opens, a pale goth and dark-skinned geek poking their heads in; the goth’s scowling and the geek’s nervous. Them both rearing their heads back a little at Daniel’s face being practically right in front of their own, “hey! It’s okay, they’re cool, my uncle’s stupidly vampire themed though”.

Vlad sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “it’s stylish, boy. And I will not be explaining myself to your friends as well”, waving dismissively at the boy, “feel free to burden yourself with that explanation instead”. Regardless the two teens stare at Vlad, wide-eyed.

“So Danny’s not going to get shot, caged, or strapped down?”

“Danny-man, you’re either extremely lucky or stupidly unlucky, take your pick”.

At least the boy had good friends, ones that were seemingly serious about fighting his parents should they harm him. Good. They made for acceptable playmates.

Daniel blurting out, “did you guys notice I don’t have a freaking shadow anymore?”.

Both the teens snapping their heads down and blinking. Tucker shaking his head, “huh. You’d think that would be more noticeable”.

Vlad transforms himself back human as he walks over, eyeing the two teens and drawling, “you'd be surprised how much most people fail to notice”.

Sam snorts at him, “oh you’re the weird uncle, that explains so much”, pointing at Daniel, “doesn’t it, you weirdo”. Daniel simply pouts fondly at her.

Vlad quirking an eyebrow, “the ‘weird uncle’?”.

Daniel eyes him, still floating in the air, “you say some really strange stuff, okay? Like, you swear using food. That’s weird”.

“Far better than using foul language”.

“Gonna disagree on that one”; Daniel transforming back human and landing on the ground almost gracefully. Vlad sighing when the teen realises he’s sans a shirt, covering up with his wings before running up stairs for a likely baggy tank top. Daniel’s friends actively laughing at him before running into the house fully and chasing the boy up the stairs shouting about getting more ‘blackmail’ photos.

Vlad shaking his head before turning to Jack and Maddie who were watching the teens fondly, “I’m assuming you’re going to be doing quite a bit of sewing to make his clothing wearable for at least the time being”.

Maddie nodding at him, “there’s no way he’ll let me cut up his nasa varsity jacket but otherwise, of course”, frowning a little, “so you think he’ll be okay?”.

Vlad looking back up the stairs, “he seems accepting of it, shifting into comfort easily. With support there would be no reason for him not to be mentally well. Physically? I’d say he’s better off than I was, and his ecto-energy feels stable for a child ghost”. Maddie sighs in happy relief and Jack beams, giving him a thumbs up. Vlad still frowns at them, “you two got lucky with him, do not repeat this”.

Maddie’s, “we won’t”, is at least very firm. Jack nodding right after, looking up the stairs himself, “I can’t believe he’s not upset with us”.

Vlad shakes his head, “he blames himself for it entirely, regardless of that being incorrect. Which would be concerning, if I wasn’t fairly certain that he’s okay with this change. Confused, unsure, and nervous, perhaps. But not upset, angry, or sad”.

Maddie sighing again, “good. That’s good. And I agree, he seems more worried about our reaction than about being the way he is now. Being a halfa”, smiling a little, “though I’m sure he’ll ask a lot of questions”.

Jack nodding strongly, and crossing his arms, “as any curious teen should”.

Daniel’s head pops back out of his bedroom, “Vlad! Can we survive in the void of space?!”.

Vlad absolutely knows that tone meant the boy was going to do something impressively stupid. Flying to space most likely. “Yes. But you’re too new, if you lose your ghost form in space and that high up you’ll be in trouble”. The teen pouts at him, “boo. You suck”, and ducks back into his room.

At least it looked like he found a shirt he could get on.

Vlad giving Maddie and Jack pitying looks, “he’s quite the handful”.

Maddie putting a hand over her face and laughing a little. Jack chuckling loudly, “V-man! You were here when Danny attempted to eat a blob ghost!”.

“I unfortunately remember that and do not understand how that didn’t kill him”.

“Neither do we!”.

Maddie shaking her head and eyeing Vlad, “will you be staying a while?”.

Vlad inclines his head, “oh but of course, Maddie dear”, grinning, “I have a young halfa godson to apprentice after all”.

Jack laughs rather awkwardly, not unlike his son, “just don’t forget he’s our son! Don’t do too much of the parenting for us!”.

Vlad smirking, “I make no promises”; Jack, the utter fool, thinks Vlad’s joking. Vlad is not joking. If he can make an heir out of the boy then all the better, Jack and Maddie were hardly truly good parents even if Vlad himself highly doubts he’d be any better. However, Vlad was a halfa, and so was Daniel. Even if Jack and Maddie were truly great parents they wouldn’t be able to fulfil all his needs or fully relate to him. Vlad can and will.

Maddie sighing, picking up better that Vlad’s intentions weren’t exactly pure. “Please don’t. I know he’s a halfa, like you, but try not to get dangerously possessive of him?”.

He scoffs, moving to head upstairs, sending away his wings to make the stairs and hallway easier to navigate, “oh it’s much too late for that, I’m afraid”.

At least they follow him up, smart. Pointless, but smart. Besides, he doesn’t truly believe he can actually get Daniel as exclusively his or under his thumb in any sense. That boy was too moral and headstrong… and chaotic. Vlad opening the boys door to him standing ‘threateningly’ over his friends, wielding fist fulls of feathers like bombs; his friends already have a noteable amount of black and white feathers on them. Vlad sighing, “Daniel, why are you ripping out your feathers?”; Jack is wheeze laughing and Maddie looks like she thinks she’s won.

Daniel blinks, looking at Vlad but otherwise not moving, fist fulls of feather still held up in the air, “I claim comedic effect?”.

Tucker smirks, spitting out a feather, “he’s trying to suffocate us”.

Samantha’s smirk is far more mean, “i threaded some beads into his feathers earlier, he only just noticed. I am very smug”.

Daniel throws his feathers at her without hesitation. Vlad puts a hand to his face and sighs heavily, this boy was a menace in all the wrong ways and his half death was only going to encourage him.

Then Tucker looks to Vlad, “oh, I hacked your company by the way, just in case you abduct Danny or something”. Then going back to smacking Daniel and his wings, while the boy basically assaults both of his friends with the feathered things. Samantha also taking the time to look at Vlad, pointing aggressively at him, “and I have enough money to have you fully killed by somebody who has nothing”. Daniel smacking her harder with a shouted, “murder is bad!”.

Daniel’s friends were not going to help reel the boy in at all. As much as Vlad loves not being alone any more and the prospect of teaching another halfa, he’s a little concerned over what’s been given to him.

Maddie scowling, putting her hands on her hips, “Danny! You’re going to rip the stitching!”. While Jack cheers this mess on, “you go! Danno!”.

Hmmm, yes Vlad’s plate is going to be very full and he’s gotten himself involved in quite the half dead mess.

End.

Prompts: After the accident, the Fentons can't help but notice something wrong with Danny. And since Danny also has that terrible symptom of "being a teenager", he refuses to tell them anything. So they are reaching out to the only person who could possibly help: an old friend in Wisconsin. After the accident, Danny no longer has a shadow, and he isn't the first person to notice its absence. Ghosts have wings. Humans don't.Unfortunately for Danny, his body did not get the memo. In another universe, Maddie and Jack did visit Vlad in the hospital, and stayed in contact. What happens when Danny has his accident twenty years later?

#danny phantom #phandom #phicphight24 #phic phight 24 #danny fenton #maddie fenton #tucker foley #sam manson #jack fenton #phantomphangphucker #have a fic suck my dick #my writing #vlad masters #wing au #wing fic #feathers #reveal #identity reveal #badger cereal #mentor vlad #Danny's a little shit #and vlad's not much better #good friends Maddie and Jack #protective sam #protective tucker #danny's accident

[langernameohnebedeutung]

Lae'zel's character and her entire situation at the beginning of the game becomes so much more funny when you find out she's 22. It makes so much sense. Imagine you're 22 and you're exposed to this dangerous toxin or chemical or something - but not to worry, you learnt that this can be easily fixed, you just need to dial 911 real quick. Common knowledge. Everyone knows that. You learnt that in kindergarten, it's up there with fire alarm drills.

But the people you're stuck with have no concept of modern medicine and when you say "let's go to the hospital" they will say shit like "i think they kill people at the hospital" and "we should ask this swamp lady" or "this guy over there told me about this homoeopathic healer kind of guy but he got abducted" or "this random bard wants to help" and "I'm not going to dial 911 because I don't want the government to know my home address" or "maybe we should consider a deal with Satan". And then a bunch of them KEEP consuming the chemical because it makes them "stronger". One guy might explode for unrelated reasons. You have a few days before this situation is getting critical and suddenly they're solving crime and doing general charity for the community.

And FOR SOME REASON you still try to help these idiots and you STILL want to help them get the cure even though they all keep insisting the "doctors" at the "hospital" might try to "kill them" and they don't have insurance. And you keep telling them to just. go. to. the. hospital. before the time runs out and you all die very horribly of a very treatable condition.

And also you're 22 in a foreign country and you're responsible for shepherding this gaggle of idiots who are all ranging anywhere from 24 to 240 years old.

#you have to consider the fact that she has no reason to doubt or question the Creche as the easy fix for her problems. #Go there. Get Purified. Done. #and she even wants to make sure that this lot gets treated too. Honestly she is so good to them by Gith standards it's insane #baldur's gate 3 #lae'zel

[keikakudom]

I decided to make a HH AU cause...y'know....anyway.... now introducing

Reset Resort! A Hotelier Vox AU

- you already know, it's a hotel Vox AU.....but not quite what you're thinking. Kind of a swap between Alastor and Vox, it focuses on the butterfly effects of this single change, rather than a full reversal.

- Most things are kinda(?) the same. Except the hotel is not as run-down and quite more successful. As if S1’s hotel started with S2's reputation and building. It's also more modern/sleek and closer to your typical strip hotel.  Much more busy with additional residents coming in and out. Think Vegas-style. It has way too many amenities than necessary, and it's actually an enjoyable place to hang out , but the message for "redemption" might be a bit....lost.

- It’s supposed to be a place where Sinners can (lightly) indulge in their vices without risk of falling into a soul-binding deal on their road to recovery.

- In this AU, movement between Sinners/Winners has been proven. NOT redemption yet. With this “concrete” evidence, Vox considers it "purely a business investment" to sponsor the hotel.

- Because of this "proof", Heaven has granted Hell/Charlie a grace period of an extra year with no exterminations, so long as they continue to monitor the process and Hell provides further progress and evidence of redemption.

Vox is there for the start up of the hotel with Charlie. He sponsors her project with his reach and expertise. His personality is much more subdued, his TV persona taking center stage, except for rare occasions. His temper is not as bad as in-canon. AKA, he’s much more fake and corny in this AU.

Charlie is slightly more mature and realistic in this AU. She studies redemption seriously and notes behavioral patterns/is much more patient and careful with the process. With Vox being extremely efficient and taking over the managerial/facility side of the resort, she is able to dedicate her time fully towards the redemption of sinners and being a therapist. She is still overzealous sometimes because she knows that if nobody else will show enthusiasm/push sinners to do better, then nobody will.

- Vox tried to manipulate Charlie very early on when they first met, and Charlie ended up realizing his kindness was just for his own benefit and has been wary of that fact ever since.

- Their relationship is like: she knows he’s reliable and will do everything she asks, but is doubtful/sad that he’s ingenuine. Vox thinks Charlie looks at him with pity and absolutely HATES it, but he still plays carefully so he can do a repeat and build up her trust again. Doesn't like Vaggie for a similar reason. They just think he's another misguided sinner in need. Neither have fully grasped the idea that most Sinners chose to do-evil(which he certainly has). 

- Vox holds a contract with Lucifer. What for? Well... let's say that they're on good terms and are friends. They meet with each other once a week (where Lucifer gets social interaction and updates on Charlie). 

I already have sketches for Alastor and Vaggie planned out in this AU~

It's less of a full "reversal" and more so one swap and the butterfly effect that follows. This AU has been my brainchild for a few weeks, so PLEASEEE I'd love to answer any questions or asks....

My AU tag is #au: reset resort

All information can be found under there! Until I make a masterpost or something.

Old design under the cut:

#hazbin hotel #my art #au: reset resort #vox #charlie

[beenbaanbuun]

romance tropes i associate w/ ateez:

this is not proofread or formatted because i was supposed to start getting ready to leave my apartment half an hour ago and now i’m rushing lmaooo. i’ll proofread and format it when i get back from the knocked loose gig 🫶

seonghwa -bridesmaid and bestman

it’s your sisters wedding and everything is going great, except for the fact that you haven’t spoken to a single person for the past 45 minutes

you can’t help but feel a little lonely as you sit in the corner and bulldoze your way through the bottle of wine you’ve been left alone with

and then you feel a soft tap on your shoulder, and the familiar sound of a chair being dragged against the wooden floor rings through the room

you spin around just in time to see the groom’s best friend sitting down beside you, empty wine glass in hand

“nice ceremony, wasn’t it?” he says as he grabs the wine bottle and begins to pour himself a generous helping

you hum in response as you tilt your own glass towards him - he takes the hint and fills it for you

“my sister looks so pretty,” you say, and the man in front of you nods along

“not as pretty as the maid of honour, though,” he responds, “i couldn’t quite believe it when i spotted her all alone in the corner with no one taking care of her.”

you giggle in response to his obvious flirting - two can play at that game

“so you decided to come and snatch me up for yourself, did you?”

he nods with a straight face, but you can see the teasing glint in his eye

“of course,” he responds, “i’m not leaving your side until i’ve either got a dance from you, or i have your number in my phone.”

he smiles wide at you, and you can’t help but smile back

“well you’re handsome enough for me to consider giving you both,” he chuckles at your words, “but the question is which one do you want first?”

he offers you his hand

“i think i’ll take the dance.”

hongjoong - blind date

it seems your mum has finally grown fed up of you showing up to every family event empty handed

which is precisely how you end up standing outside one of the most notoriously expensive restaurants in your neighbourhood

it’s where your blind date suggested, and despite your incessant denial, your mother had accepted on your behalf

you walk inside, a sour look on your face as the host steps forward to ask for your reservation

“i think his name was hongjoong?” you sigh, “he told me to meet him here at 8 for a blind date…”

the woman’s eyes go wide and she smiles at you, the words ‘lucky bitch’ falling from her tongue before she can even stop them

“hardly,” you respond as she guides you through the fancy place, “i don’t even want to be here…”

your voice trails off as she slows down and stops at a table with a man already seated on one of the chairs

you thank the woman as you sit down; she sends you a quick wink in return before darting off to no doubt gossip with the other staff members

and then you turn your attention to the man before you to see he’s already looking at you with wide eyes

“you’re my date?” he asks, to which you nod in response, “shit! when my friend set this up i wasn’t expecting someone so pretty.”

your face heats up at his compliment

“oh, uh, thank you,” you stutter out, “likewise, i guess. my mum organised it on my behalf; i thought it would be some stiff-necked guy that thinks too highly of himself.”

“you’re happy with me, then?” he smiles

“very happy…”

yunho - brothers best friend

“i don’t care that he’s here, i’m just asking why?” you whisper to your mum as you watch yunho and your brother mess around in the pool

it’s spring break, and whilst you certainly don’t mind the addition of the tall dancer, you hadn’t been allowed to bring a friend of your own

“it was last minute honey,” you mum replies, “his parents are half-way through a divorce and i wanted to help take his mind off of it!”

you suppose that’s as good of a reason as any, but that still feel cheated

suddenly you hear a yell from the water, and a whole load of splashing; you turn your attention to the pool to see yunho swimming to your brother who has a hand covering his nose

“nosebleed?” your mum called over to the boys; they nod, “i know where the first aid kit is. come on!”

your brother climbs out of the pool and follows your mum inside, leaving the pool area in an awkward silence

“you know you’re never going to get a tan sitting in the shake like that,” yunho breaks it with a laugh, “you should move to this subbed over here.”

you quirk your brow at him as you see him point to the one right by the pool

“you mean the one that gives you access to stare at me?”

he shrugs, “i’m just looking out for you, kiddo.”

you scoff at the nickname; he’s always called you that despite the age gap being almost non-existent

“don’t call me that when you’re flirting with me, yun.”

“why?” he says with a smirk, “would you rather i called you baby?”

yeosang - soulmates

it had been a slow morning in the cafe, which isn’t necessarily unusual, but it had given you a lot of time to think about your soulmate mark which is burning where it sits on your wrist

KYS, it reads, which you would find funny if it was scrawled on someone else’s wrist

the subreddit you’d spent most of your morning surreptitiously scrolling through says it means you’ll meet your soulmate soon

you’ll believe that when you see it…

“‘scuse me?” a voice rips you out of your mindless doomscrolling and you quickly put a smile on your face and look up at the man at the counter

your sure your smile looks more like a grimace with how bad the mark has started burning on your wrist

“welcome,” you stutter out, “what can i get for you?”

he studies the menu which gives you the perfect opportunity to study the pretty man in front of you

you can’t help but notice his hand gripping at his opposite wrist in the exact same place your own soul mark it hurting

“an americano,” he eventually stutters out, “iced and medium, please.”

you nod, grabbing a cup and a marker pen, “can i take a name?”

“yeosang,” he replies and your soul mark burns even more, “but you can just write KYS if it’s easier.”

you pause for a second; was the subreddit right?

“KYS?” you mutter to yourself, “this sounds crazy, but can i show you something?”

he shrugs and you take it as an ‘okay’, so you tug up your sleeve to reveal the three letters on your arm

san - strangers-to-lovers

the gym, also known as your own personal hell; it’s funny that you’ve somehow ended up there in a saturday morning

you’re not even sure how in all honesty, and as you stare into the vast space filled with nothing but men and metal, you feel a little intimidated

still, it’s too late to turn back now so you take a few unsure steps into the room, halting at a piece of equipment that looks more like a torture device

“how the-” you mutter to yourself, but get cut off when a tall man walks up beside you

“are you using this thing?” he asks, and you turn your attention to him, “it’s just its next in my routine, but i don’t mind waiting if you’re already using it.”

you shake your head as you stare at him, feeling a little more than slightly intimidated

he’s tall, buff and hot, not to mention that he clearly knows what he’s doing in the gym

“you can go,” you stutter, “i, uh, i’m not too sure how to use it myself; i’m new to all this.”

his face light up at your confession, the stoic expression melting into something sweeter, more excited

“you’re serious?” he beams at you, “that’s so cool! i’m proud of you for starting your gym journey.”

you shrug, not really knowing how to reply; the man seems to have no issue carrying on the conversation for you, though

“my names san,” he sticks out a hand which you take out of politeness, “if you want you can take my number; i’m here most days so if you ever want someone to work out with…”

you think it over for a few seconds before deciding ‘what the hell?’ the man is attractive and seems genuinely enthusiastic to get to know you

might as well get something positive out of this whole gym thing, right?

mingi - fake boyfriend

you’d always spend winter break alone, which was never a pleasant thing when spending the season with your family

this year, however, you decided things would be different

it turns out a friend of a friend wasn’t actually going home for the holidays

and with the promise of free food he was actually pretty easy to convince to be your pretend boyfriend for the season

you spent days upon days creating some sort of believable story to tell your family, as well as learning everything there is to know about eachother

the plan was seamless, and on your first evening in your family home, the two of you had done a spectacular job at convincing your entire family

but there was just one little detail the two of you hadn’t foreseen, and now as you stand in your room it finally sinks in

“i can sleep on the floor,” you suggest, “you take the bed; you’re the guest, afterall.”

mingi shakes his head

“i might be a guest, but i’m still a gentleman,” he refuses, and you can’t help but laugh

“i’ve learned enough about you to know that you are anything but a gentleman, mingi.”

“well you’re hardly a perfect little princess yourself,” he can’t help but chuckle in response

you hum in agreement, but soon fall back into silence as you try and work out some sort of solution to the one-bed problem

“we could just share?” you suggest after a second or two

he cocks his brow at you

“you’d be okay with that?” you just shrug in response before crawling into your bed and patting the mattress next to you

“come on in before i change my mind.”

wooyoung - rivals-to-lovers

you stare at the F at the top of your page, a flurry of emotions rushing through you

you’d never gotten anything below a C before and now all of a sudden you’ve failed?

sure you’d taken a little bit of a backseat when you were studying for this exam, but you were almost certain you knew enough of the material to at least get a B

yet you’d failed

you feel a presence walk up behind you and you sigh; you’d recognise the sound of those cocky little footsteps anywhere

“i’m not in the mood, wooyoung,” you grumble, hoping it would deter your rival for just a little while

“why not?” he teases as he walks up beside you, “are you really that sure i’ve beaten you?”

you don’t reply, but by the way he gasps, you can tell he’s already caught sight of your failure; you sigh, waiting for what’s about to come

“you… failed?” his voice is soft, not an ounce of teasing in his tone, “dude, that’s- i- are you alright?”

perhaps it’s the lack of cruelness in his voice, you’re not sure, but you feel the need to be vulnerable with him

“not really,” you shake your head, “i don’t know what happened.”

an awkward hand finds its way to your shoulder, fingers lightly tapping a pattern against your back

“i can help you if you want?” he suggests, “like, i don’t know, tutor you or something?”

you finally look at him, purely to check whether or not he’s joking

his face is serious though, and that kind of stumps you

“why would you do that for me?” he just shrugs

“i like our little rivalry,” if you look closely you can see a dusting of pink over his cheeks, “i think it’s cute when you get all angry at me for beating you, or when you’re all smug when you do better… we can’t have that if you’re getting F’s.”

jongho - friends-to-lovers

you walk out of your exam with a frown on your face; saying that it went bad would be an understatement

all you want to do is crawl up into a ball and forget about life for a while, but then you spot him

“jongho,” you yell, pulling his attention away from his phone

with a grin he slides it into his back pocket, opening his arms for you to give him a running hug

you take the opportunity, slamming into his chest at full force; he wastes no time in folding his arms around you

“how’d it go?” he asks as he begins to sway your conjoined bodies from side to side

“oh, it went horribly,” you admit, “i’m going to go home and eat an obscene amount of ice cream to make me feel better.”

he nods at your suggestion

“you could,” he agrees, “or we could go to that one cafe and pretend to get engaged so we get free desert?”

you can’t help but look up at him with furrowed brows

“engaged?” you cant lie that the idea makes your heart flutter, “what happened to the birthday meta?”

it’s a valid question; the two of you normally go to a cafe and tell the staff it’s your birthday so you can share the desert

engagement is a new one, but you’re willing to hear him out

“well,” he begins, face falling into full seriousness, “if you think about it, we only get one desert when we use the birthday meta; my hypothesis is that we get two deserts if we claim we’re engaged.”

you consider his reply for a few seconds

“fair argument,” you hum, “counterpoint; do you not think they’ll give us just the one desert for ‘romantic’ purposes? you know, feed each other with a spoon, type shit.”

jongho just shrugs

“i’m fine with that if you are.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez reactions

[esyra]

These days, I have long debated what to write regarding Palestine-Israel, and questioned why I should write anything at all. The idea that celebrities and the loudest chronically online people you've ever met, blessed in their ignorance and indifferent to livehoods different than theirs, feel the need to opinate on social and geopolitical issues is absolutely insane. Most of the time, they do more harm than good—spreading misinformation like wildfire. Such opinions are what convinced me to ultimately talk about it.

Rest assured I'm not particularly qualified to talk about any of this, then again no one seems (or tries) to be. This is not a statement, simply questions about selected nuance. Full disclosure: I am of Palestinian descent. And I tried my hardest to be all-encompassing and empathetic; if I fail at any moment, my sincerest apologies.

All around social media I've seen only two kinds of posts regarding Palestine and Israel; they're either completely favorable to Israel and dehumanize Palestine or they treat Palestines as a footnote, in which it's made to assure its author doesn't endorse murder but also to point out that Palestine "deserve what's coming." There's a certain nuance required to support Palestine that's not asked when supporting Israel.

I've seen Jamie Lee Curtis reposting a picture of Palestinian children watching Israelis air strikes as if they were of Israeli children. There's no doubt it was a malicious-intended post considering she credited the photographer while deleting the original caption which explicitly explained who the ones pictured were. After being severely corrected in the comments, she simply deleted and made no mention of it. Guess children don't matter if they're Palestinian. I've seen way too many celebrities responding to the conflict with worries about how they might be affected by it, as self-centered and selfish as you can imagine.

I've seen a journalist claim that 40 Israeli babies were beheaded and multiple newspapers (many of them British, because what else can you expect from them?) and public figures reposting as a fact, only for the same journalist to later claim she actually "never said that" (she absolutely did). Also the IDF explaining they have no information confirming the allegations that 'Hamas beheaded babies'. I've seen people using statements from Sabra and Shatila massacre survivors and trying to rewrite Palestine, which were the victims of said crime, as the perpetrators. I've seen people using videos of Russian attacks as Palestinian ones. I've seen a British journalist fabricating a harmful statement from a Palestinian Ambassador to help dehumanize Palestine, and being proud of such. I've seen BBC using the nuances of language to their liking, reporting how Israelis were 'killed' while Palestinians 'died'. Always heard journalists avoid adjectives in favor of being unbiased. Again, guess that's unimportant when it comes to Palestine. Most of all, I've seen people equate supporting Palestine to anti-semitism.

If that belief steams that Palestine and Hamas are one-and-the-same, and the latter is a anti-semitism organization, then that's another concern I'd like to add the recently appraised 'nuance'.

Hamas first appeared during the first intifada, a Palestinian uprising against Israeli occupation of the West Bank, Gaza, and East Jerusalem. The signing of the Oslo Accords in 1993 marked the end of the uprising—an agreement between Israel and Palestine meant to lay the groundwork for the formation of a Palestinian state alongside Israel. Instead, it has erased Palestine's recognition as a State. In its history, Hamas have equate the liberation of Palestinians with the destruction of Israel, likely the reason they're a highly divisive organization that has often been at oddens with more mainstream Palestinian politicians. However, Hamas backtracked on its aims in a 2017 proclamation, making it clear that what it wants is to end a “racist, anti-human and colonial Zionist project.” In its 16th topic, they state "Hamas affirms that its conflict is with the Zionist project not with the Jews because of their religion. Hamas does not wage a struggle against the Jews because they are Jewish but wages a struggle against the Zionists who occupy Palestine."

The description of the Israeli occupation as fascist most likely comes from the similarities of Palestine to an "open air prison". They have no control of their own borders (IDF controls who and what enters or leaves) and are deemed stateless. "In defiance of international law, Israel considers all Palestinians inhabitants of the occupied Palestinian territory as non-citizens and foreign residents." Meaning if they leave their territory, they won't be allowed back in. Their rights in the Arab World are uncertain, particularly in Lebanon and Egypt where they are denied rights to secure residency, employment, property, communal interaction and family unification. Procedures to allow non-residents to apply for naturalisation in Lebanon, Egypt and Saudi Arabia do not apply to stateless Palestinians. So while those asking for Palestinians to be evacuated for their safety certainly have noble intentions, I ask of you: where they will go? Can you imagine walking away from home knowing you're heading into nothing? What's the difference between living in the rumbles of their homes and being homeless in another country?

The ones who decide to stay (and the ones unable to leave) are likely not making it for much longer. According to the United Nations, roughly 6,400 Palestinians and 300 Israelis have been killed in the ongoing conflict since 2008, not counting the recent fatalities. Is it truly a war if one side is so overpowering in its resources and retaliations? I feel the need to point out these stats to question why the notion that "violence is never the answer" is only used now. When it has been the only response until now.

Then again, Hamas remains a polarizing force in Palestinian society. They're an organization that's slaughtering families and less than a third of Palestinians think the group deserves to represent them. There has not been an opportunity, however, for elections to change their representatives. Palestinians living in Gaza must endure an unstable political reality with an unrepresentative government implementing repressive policies against LGBTQ people and abusive policies against detainees. Israel's Prime Minister Netanyahu purposefully propped up Hamas and there has been speculation that Iran has supported them. I've seen many post as if it's a fact, so I'd like to reinforce that it's speculation. In essence, Hamas is a terrorist group with questionable history and even more questionable allies. None of which has the Palestine's best interests at heart.

This has been overly long, and I still haven't touched on all topics I wished to address. Some I probably couldn't express properly since it's such a complex geopolitical issue. Then again, no one seems to try while all seem very comfortable in being as biased as they wish to be. So I thought I add my compassionate two cents in favor of Palestine and all the years of oppresion they've endured. I still hope you'll read this to the end, and extended to Palestine the same sympathetic hand you've rightfully extended to Israeli citizens.

My heart aches for the innocent people murdered, Palestinian and Israeli. Settlers aren’t innocent, but people who were born there didn't really choose to be one. Jewish people following matters of faith don't deserve to die. No one has (or should have) the right to take someone's life away. People at the Gaza Strip that are either just trying to survive or attempting to protect their homes also don't deserve to die, as flawed as their logic and actions might be, and many are missing that nuance. The denial of food, water, and medical aid, violates the Geneva convention. And it's a kind of retaliation that Palestine in its entirety will never be able to match.

Currently, the Israeli government is preparing a ground invasion of Gaza. An anonymous Israeli official said they would turn Gaza into “a city of tents.” A parliamentarian said that Israel should not concern itself with the safety of any Gazans who “chose” to stay in the Gaza Strip, as if every crossing hasn't been blocked.

Soon, the 'war' will end. And when it does, I can assure you Palestine won't be the last one standing. They've never had a real chance. I'd like to remember everyone that, despite Netanyahu's claims that they are "human animals", Palestinians are human beings. People. All of which deserve to live, deserve compassion and deserve protection. They also deserve to be remembered.

#palestine #israel #hamas

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number neighbors Pt.28

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

You wouldn’t describe yourself as someone who was regularly paranoid, but recently you've been more than a little on edge. You’d given the man at the market the benefit of the doubt, chalking his appearance up to going to the marketplace when the weather was the most reasonable- like you’d been doing, but that doesn’t explain the Suvs.

You don’t know how long they’ve been following you for, you’d been so stuck in your own world that you’d barely been paying attention to your surroundings but after Saturday you’ve been more cautious of your surroundings and that’s when you noticed the black Suv.

You don’t know if it’s the same one every time, they’ve always kept a far enough distance and you haven't been able to catch a license plate but they appear every so often when you go out. The windows are tinted far too dark to be legal so you can’t see inside but you occasionally find them parked outside of buildings you frequent and it’s starting to worry you.

You don’t want to worry your friends or your mom who would buy a ticket out there first thing though, so you keep to yourself and try to keep a distance from the cars and the marketplace (it’s a devastating loss to not have Gladys’ pastries on hand)

On top of that, everyone has been on edge because of the disappearance of most of the Avengers. As far as you know, Stark, Clint, Banner, and that Spider kid are the only ones still in New York which has civilians asking questions about where the others are and why they left. 

The anxiety from the lack of heroes has everyone grilling the government for answers, especially considering the fact that the crime rate has gone up just from petty criminals getting too cocky. Due to the constant heat The government has been under, they stated that they’ll issue a public service announcement in a week to explain the situation and you can practically feel the country buzzing with anticipation.

The situation makes you think of Nat and you wonder if her “not FBI job” has something to do with this and is the reason why she’s disappeared. You hope she knows wherever she is that you would’ve understood if she’d just explained the situation to you- but maybe she couldn’t. Maybe she was under some kind of NDA that could put her in danger.

Despite avoiding the marketplace you still get the feeling that you’re being watched and it makes you uneasy. You feel like you’re hallucinating with how often you see shadows moving somewhere nearby. You’re never able to catch a glimpse of anyone who might resemble the market man but the fear is enough to have you staying a few nights at your friend's house.

The Suv’s don’t appear for a while after the move and it allows you a small moment of reprieve. You push the lingering feeling of constant observance to the back of your mind despite your brain telling you to be on guard.

The stress of the situation is so tremendous you don’t even realize you’ve been forgetting to leave voicemails for Nat until your mom calls asking why you haven’t called her in a while. You don’t bring up the stalkers to avoid giving her a heart attack but you do tell her about the amount of stress you’ve been under and the toll it’s been taking on you. 

It feels so good to talk about it that you don’t even realize you’re crying until your mother's concerned voice is comforting you through the speaker. God, it was like the universe couldn’t give you a break lately. You hope whatever they’re putting you through all of this for is worth it. 

“Come home for a while, Y/n. it sounds like you need a break, I’ll take care of you.” The dismissal of her offer is on the tip of your tongue but the more you mull it over the more you think it might be a good idea. With the city on edge, the growing crime rate, and your new potential stalkers, getting away from the city is probably the best thing you could do right now.

Much to your mother's surprise, you agree and her excitement at having you come home has you smiling on your end of the receiver. The two of you spend the next hour looking for an affordable last minute and you find a plane that leaves in two days that the two of you agree on. It’s probably not nearly enough appropriate notice for time off but your boss agrees anyway and within the hour you’ve got plans to spend a week at your mother's out of town.

It’s the first vacation you’ve taken in a while and even if it was just going home you find yourself more excited than you’d been in at least a month. You hadn’t been this excited since-

Nat. You hadn’t been this excited since you were supposed to meet Nat. 

It probably didn’t matter to her that you were going out of town, it wasn’t like she was getting your voicemails anyway but- what if she showed up while you were gone? You shake your head, the possibility of that was slim to none and if she did come back while you were gone she’d just have to wait like she’d made you wait.

Still, she deserved to know about the kid on the skateboard you watched run into a pole earlier today, at least. You listen for the tale-tell sound of the beep after the long too-familiar ringing and you find yourself subconsciously smiling as you tell her random snippets from your week.

The breakfast your friend treated you to, the new show you started, the fair that got canceled due to raccoons breaking in to eat all the cotton candy. You avoid talking about the stalkers like you’d done with everyone else but you frown when the news channel starts covering another attempted bank robbery. 

Despite your own safety being in jeopardy you can’t help but worry for her wherever she may be, causing you to voice the thought, the humor in your tone replaced with a solemn resolve

“wherever you are… I hope you’re safe.” You shake your head, attempting to clear your mind from the restless thoughts in your mind “Anyway, sorry I know that was a lot- all that to say I miss you and I love you. Bye!”

You don’t even realize what you’ve said until 10 seconds later and you frantically press whichever number was supposed to delete the message. 

Shit.

It was such a force of habit to end your phone calls with an I love you. You can’t believe you almost confessed to Nat over the phone. Moreover, you’re freaked out by how much the words didn’t feel like a lie. If you were honest you’d been avoiding putting a label on your emotions because you were scared of how serious they were getting but apparently your brain had already decided for you. 

Love.

You loved Nat.

You Love Nat.

Fuck.

Your mind reels with the newfound discovery and you’re grateful you deleted the message before it would be stuck in her voicemail for her to one day hear. Your head's a mess as you set your phone down on the counter and go to pack up your stuff, you had a trip to get ready for and a relationship to overanalyze to try and pinpoint when you and Nat had gone from total strangers to you being in love with her.

 It all made sense now, the heartache, the worrying, the underlying tension between the two of you

It was just your luck that you’d discover you love her when you can’t even tell her. You’re so in your head with your emotions and figuring out what to pack that you don’t even register the sound of your phone’s female electronic voice as it declares

“Voicemail sent”

Pt.29

A/n: Classic mistake, Y/n, I’m sure everyone’s done that! Don’t worry it’s not like she can hear your voicemails or anything…or uhhh ~ Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts @vmpnano @jono723 @sylencr @saraaahsstuff @autorasexy @gay4hotmilfs @tofu9162 @dyslexic-dreamer @graniairish @colettehope @kosmichs1 @nmhlver @natblidaclexa @skittlebum @dorabledewdroop @nothanksbye07 @mrsrushman @midastouch013 @thalia-is-not-ok @tessalah @annab3113 @officialnighttime

#marvel #fanfiction #fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #fluff #women of marvel #fluff fic #natasha romanoff #mcu fluff #black widow x female reader #black widow x reader #black widow #upon a starry night writes #number neighbor story #slight angst #angst #natasha marvel #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you

[percheduphere]

LET’S TALK ABOUT EXPLORING LOKI & MOBIUS THROUGH THE LENS OF QUEER EXPERIENCE

Thank you for this request, @nabananab 

Before I dig into this juicy ask, I think it’s important to note (however obvious the fact maybe) that an individual’s unique engagement with art is an inherent and integral part of art. The intention of the artist and the sociopolitical influence of culture, while important in our interpretation of a work, are not the sole source of drawing the work’s meaning. We are all artists in one form or another. I consider myself one of the pen, and nothing is more important to me than art giving someone a sense of emotional connection. I should hope other artists would agree, and for this reason I am an ardent believer in art taking on a life of its own once it has been created. The creator’s word, while it matters to some degree, does not supersede an individual’s relationship with the creation. Our histories, our desires, our fears, our likes, our dislikes, indeed our infiniteness as fragile human beings, allow us to create an elevated, spiritual interpretation beyond the confines of original intent. With art, there is no such thing as “reaching” or “reading too deeply”. 

I leave this message with all of you as we look at these beloved characters through the lens of queer experience. 

LOKI 

Culture influences what we see and hear, which in turn influences artistic portrayal. Setting aside Norse myth, Marvel’s Loki is a classic example of a queer-coded villain (later canonized as a queer antihero). Deception, daggers, sexual temptation, transformation, and magic are all culturally tied to the “immoral” facets of femininity. Just as a strong, independent woman untethered to the control of man is deemed a “wicked woman”, a man demonstrating gender ambiguity and like qualities is similarly judged. Only masculinity is viewed as pure and good, and this no doubt was—and continues to be—a key force in white, western colonization’s destructiveness. It all but crushed our rich global history of divine femininity, gender diversity, and romantic and sexual expression. 

Asgard, as Marvel portrays it, is without a doubt a masculine-dominant warrior society. Only two women feature prominently: Queen Frigga and Lady Sif. Whereas Sif embraces her masculine qualities and fits in easily with Thor and the Warriors Three, Queen Frigga embraces her feminine powers, though her authority is submissive to the All-Father, Odin. Her influence is most heavily seen in her adopted son, Loki, with whom she shared and taught magic in hopes that Loki might “feel some sun on himself” despite the “long shadows [Thor] and [Odin]” cast. The magic that Frigga gifts Loki, however, attracts scorn. The subtext here is that Loki’s specialness, his individuality, comes from feminine powers despite presenting as a man, and a gender ambiguous one at that. Unlike Thor and Odin, he is not masculine. While strong, he does not exhibit Thor’s brute strength. He is cautious, thoughtful, another feminine quality, whereas Thor’s courageousness often veers toward foolhardy and brash.  

Thus, if Loki cannot be loved and accepted as he is (a queer person of another race), he will force love and acceptance through the power of the throne. Kings oft inspire fear, coercing subjects to love them whether they wish to or not. But we know Loki never truly wanted the throne. The throne is a mere distraction from, perhaps even a poor replacement for, what he truly wants: genuine love and acceptance that cannot be bought. Unfortunately, Loki believes he will never get these things, which is why, when Mobius questions him, Loki’s desire for control (Loki, King of the Midgard; Loki, King of the Nine Realms; Loki, King of Space) can never be satiated. Mobius challenges Loki for the exact purpose of revealing this to him. What do you really want? At this point, Loki does not have the words to form an answer. In S2E5, Syvlie raises the question Mobius originally asked in S1E1. It is then, after experiencing Mobius’s friendship and the other relationships that come to being as a result (including Sylvie’s), that Loki can articulate his answer. 

Loki’s othering, even before the discovery of his true identity as a Jotun (an allegory for a villainized foreign race), creates a lonely environment in which Loki’s potential for goodness is quashed by centuries of resentment, bitterness, and jealousy. His attempts at masculinity take the form of violence, all of which are, as Loki admits in S1E1, “part of the illusion; the cruel elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear.”  

Loneliness and the desire for love and acceptance are a universal human experience, but they are felt far more acutely within our intersectional queer communities. 

MOBIUS 

His fascination with Loki is compelling because there are many things we can infer about its reasons. The first, most obvious explanation is Mobius’s “soft spot for broken things”, which is in some ways tied to his qualities as a compassionate, forgiving, and supportive father. A secondary explanation is a wish for partnership. We know from S1 that Mobius’s friendship with Ravonna spanned eons. We later learn in S2E6 that he and Ravonna started out as peers, hunters. They were partners on the field, but where Mobius “failed” because of his humanity, Ravonna “advanced” because of her ruthlessness. This change in relational dynamics left him partner-less. Finally, a third, less obvious reason is Mobius’s desire to express himself in ways Loki does so effortlessly. That desire may come from the suppression and repression of his own softspoken queerness in order to survive the fascist culture of the TVA. 

Mobius is captivating for many reasons. Whereas Loki is a textbook example of culture viewing “queerness as evil”, “queerness as flamboyance”, “queerness as stylishness”, “queerness as loudness”, “queerness as sexual promiscuity and deviance”, “queerness as chaos”, Mobius very much aligns with the image of a straight-passing, repressed queer individual. This is an identity that does not get as much attention or presence in artistic media as it deserves, for there are many who need this representation to reflect them. He is not stereotypically queer by any means: he is not colorful. He is not stylish, flamboyant, or loud. His sex appeal primarily derives from the viewers’ attraction to his personality, though it certainly helps that Owen Wilson is quite handsome.  

Combine these three reasons, and it becomes easy to see how a character (or person!) like Mobius might fall in love with a character (or person!) like Loki.  

There is a certain amount of beautiful irony in how Loki and Mobius affect one another and consequently their identities. Mobius, feeling compassion toward an individual who has been brutally othered and oppressed, seeks to free Loki from the confines of his narrative, as determined by the “Time Keepers”.  The only feasible way to do this is to bring a variant of Loki out of the timeline and into the TVA. Mobius then provides Loki with the opportunity to change by: acknowledging Loki’s strengths, giving Loki the chance to use his strengths in productive ways, praising Loki when he does well, listening to Loki, believing in Loki, calling out Loki, and accepting Loki as he is, with all his history, without judgement. Mobius does not try to force change like Thor or Odin. Rather, he creates an environment in which change could happen naturally. This kindness and, indeed, what becomes unconditional love by the end of S1E4, allows Loki to embrace his authentic queerness with self-love and use his feminine powers for altruism rather than masking them with self-hatred and masculine rage. 

FREEING LOKI 

In S1E1, Mobius is enthralled with Loki’s hijinks as the handsome, charming, devil-may-care, D.B. Cooper. This minor escapade in Loki’s life, which was likely only intended for laughs by the writer, reveals something interesting about Mobius: Loki’s mischievousness, his magic, his cunning, are all quite endearing to him when no real harm is being inflicted. That is, Loki, when not under duress, is someone to be admired when he’s being himself. We admire in people what we wish we had in ourselves, and this, at times, may lead to powerful attraction. 

Loki, for his part, does much the same for Mobius. The environment (the TVA) which allowed Loki to thrive is also the same environment that has abused and constrained Mobius. 

The heat that Ravonna presses upon Mobius, however, changes his tone with Loki himself. When Loki asks Mobius why he “[sticks] his neck out for [him]”, Mobius provides Loki with two options to choose from: “A. He sees a scared little boy shivering in the cold, or B. He will say whatever he needs to say to get the job done”. Option A, while insulting, has compassion layered beneath the barb. Loki, an expert at cloaking truth with meanness, sees through this and indirectly chooses what he believes to be true in the cafeteria scene: that Mobius feels sympathy for Loki’s painful childhood. The subtext of this acknowledgement is that the true means to the end is reversed: Mobius doesn’t need Loki to catch the Variant on the timelines. Mobius needs the Variant to free Loki from the timelines. The Variant is an excuse and another agent of poetic irony: when Sylvie unleashes the multiverse, she literally frees Loki of his predetermined narrative. 

The conceit of S1E1 is that Mobius intends to use Loki for the “good” of the Sacred Timeline. It is important to remember that characters, while not real, are meant to mirror human complexity. Multiple, seemingly conflicting things may be true concurrently. In S1E2, we see in Mobius’s conversations with Ravonna that he deeply believes in Loki’a capacity to be a wonderful person and wants him to have the opportunity to change. His enthusiasm for these things outshines his desire to catch Sylvie.  

And, because the Variant is Loki, because Sylvie is Loki, because, as she says, “[they] are the same”, Mobius’s own freeing of Loki, his unconditional love for him, cascades from Loki to Sylvie. Sylvie would not be free to live as she pleases if not for Mobius’s compassion for Loki in the first place. 

In S1E4, Loki reveals the TVA’s sham. Mobius’s sense of self becomes fragile alongside his sense of partnership with Loki. But because of our sociopolitical culture’s influence on capitalism, the creative voices of the Loki series self-censures what could be (what is) a queer romance. This self-censureship makes itself known in Mobius’s own self-censureship. His jealousy and heartbreak cannot be spoken directly. It must be spoken through the words of a woman, someone who presents as the opposite sex. Through a looping memory of a scornful Sif telling Loki, “You are alone and always will be”, Mobius makes known the nature of his feelings for him.  

BUT WHO WILL FREE MOBIUS? 

In the same cafeteria scene in S1E2, Loki asks Mobius if he’s ever ridden a jet ski. Mobius’s response is demure, saying him riding one would “cause a branch for sure”. The jet ski gives the audience another clue as to what Mobius seeks in life: something fun, thrilling, and reckless. Yet Mobius sets aside his desires for what he believes is for the good of the TVA, and thus humanity. This suppression and repression of authentic selfhood mirrors the queer experience of living within a heteronormative culture, especially one with religious doctrines that equate pleasure with sinfulness.  

Because Mobius extended his heart, his partnership, his love (symbolized by twin daggers hidden in his locker [a closet]; notably a male phallic symbol of which there are a pair [partners]) and was soundly rejected, Mobius retaliates with the loneliness he himself feels. This loneliness may be interpreted as an allegory for the loneliness of being closeted as opposed to the loneliness of being out but othered. 

Ultimately, Mobius’s love for Loki shifts from selfish desire to unconditional love when he chooses to help Loki save Sylvie. In S1E5, it is conspicuous that after delivering Sylvie safely to Loki’s side, Mobius’s partings words are, “Guess you got away again”, to which Loki replies, “I always do”, which echos the lover’s trope of “the one that got away”. 

[It drives me absolutely bananas that I can't find the specific gif I need when I literally saw it multiple times earlier this week but didn't need it THEN]

Owen’s acting choice is interesting here. He laughs, smiles, then looks down before looking up again, his eyes shifting from fondness to what feels like longing. Mobius extends his hand, a sensible choice for someone who believes his love is unrequited and is unsure of how Loki defines their relationship. Loki, appreciating what Mobius has done for him, closes the distance with an embrace and thanks Mobius for his friendship. 

In S2E1, upon Loki’s time-slipping into the war room, whatever apprehensions Mobius had about physical contact was wiped away by the collapse of the TVA and the memory of Loki’s hug. In this scene, it becomes clear to Mobius that Loki is panicking. He makes the executive decision to use his physical contact as a grounding force, relocates Loki to a quiet environment, asks after Sylvie with no bitterness in his voice, then prioritizes Loki’s physical well-being. Perhaps, in Mobius’s view, his love is unrequited, but there is nothing in place to stop him from expressing that love more freely while honoring Loki’s feelings for Sylvie. This regard, which may be construed as platonic, may also be viewed romantic, courtly love. 

The fight between Loki and Sylvie in S1E6 sets the stage for Mobius to receive Loki and become a refuge for heartbreak.  

S2E2 and S2E3 has Loki’s and Mobius’s temperaments when it comes to investigating flipped. In S1, Mobius was focused on the mission and often had to reign in Loki. In S2, Mobius is more casual, more willing to take his time and enjoy the sleuthing as it unfolds, while Loki administers pressure to stay focused. The question is why? 

In S2E2, Brad attacks Mobius’s sense of self. He points out how weird it is that Mobius is not at all curious about looking at his timeline and stresses that the TVA, and everything in it, isn’t real. Brad calls into question Mobius’s reason for staying. Knowing that the answer is Loki, we can surmise through the queer lens that Brad also corners Mobius into potentially outing himself in front of the object of his affections, someone he believes does not return his feelings, and whose knowledge of those feelings may threaten their friendship. This is a traumatic experience for queer people in the real world, and this extra layer of emotional conflict adds depth to Mobius’s violent response.  

Mobius influenced Loki in a myriad of ways. One that has not been discussed yet is an appreciation for focus and order. Loki, in turn, has cracked the door open for Mobius to explore pleasure. We can speculate that, in his own way, Mobius is testing what happiness could look like living a life between the TVA and the timelines. For him, this means cocktails at the theater, cracker jacks, and exploring the World’s Fair, all of which are pleasurable on their own but are even more so with Loki’s company. His queerness, once again, is quiet, mundane, but playful in its own right, and finally brave enough to explore. These scenes suggest that Mobius is indeed happy at the TVA and, as we see in the finale, this happiness is solely rooted in his relationship with Loki and the emotional intimacy they share together. 

Loki expresses concern for Mobius, noting that he has “never seen him like that before.” Mobius, interestingly, deflects every concern by absurdly blaming Loki: “He got under your skin”, “I was following you!” The psychological undercurrent here is that Loki is the reason why Brad got under Mobius skin. Loki is the person that Mobius will follow.  

Loki takes Mobius’s distress in stride, responding in a way the Mobius normally would. However, Brad’s question piques his interest, and his own care for Mobius prompts him to gently challenge Mobius’s lack of interest in his own timeline. Mobius’s reason for avoidance is, “What if it’s something good?” 

In S2E5, it’s interesting that “good” in this narrative is defined as a heteronormative fantasy of a house, two kids, and (possibly) a puppy and a snake. The “good” in Mobius’s original timeline, however, is imperfect. There is a partner that is missing (partners being a recurring theme in the series, particularly in S2E3), pronounced gone not once but twice. The entire scene between Don and Loki has been discussed at length by many, so there’s no need to reiterate it here. However, let’s bring our attention to Mobius’s avoidance of this “good” because this avoidance resonates with another queer experience. 

The TVA, for Mobius, is the place where he studied, saved, and developed a close relationship with Loki. The fear of the “something good” is the fear of being confronted with something Mobius “should” want more than the TVA, and therefore “should” want more Loki. The fear is wanting something (or feeling pressured to want something) other than a queer relationship with no children. The question of “choice” is impacted by what is considered the “norm”. 

S2E5 very pointedly focuses on the concern of choice, especially Mobius’s choice, in the bar scene between Loki and Sylvie. “Mobius should get a choice now, no?” At this point, Loki’s regard for Mobius has finally caught up with the romantic nature of Mobius’s feelings for him. And Loki, living his own queer experience, is also afraid of his true desires like Mobius. In being part of the intersectional queer community, the psychological need to guard against disappointment is high and commonplace. Desires are easily disappointed by the expectations of oppressive social mores. This survival tactic manifests itself with our hope and heartbreak with mainstream media, Loki the series being among them. 

But Sylvie, the harbinger of true and absolute freedom, takes on the role of supportive ex and challenges Loki to answer Mobius’s question in S1E1: “What do you want?”  

In this, Mobius and Loki’s individual relationships with the TVA are identical. It was never about where (the TVA), when (time works differently at the TVA), or why (the timelines). It was about who. It was about each other. The TVA represents a liminal space which became home by virtue of the people who brought love into it. The TVA is code for Loki and Mobius when each speaks of it. 

Again, the artists behind the media must self-censure. In this, Loki also self-censures while giving the truth. “I don’t want to be alone. I want my friends back.” It cannot be denied that Mobius is Loki’s first truest and closest friend. “I don’t want to be alone. I want Mobius back.” Sylvie appreciates and validates this desire, but also points out that showing the TVA is something that cannot be unseen. The implication of this response suggests that Sylvie believes that Loki’s friends will feel compelled to join the TVA out of moral pressure. She reiterates the true lives that are being lived, and Loki, loving his friends, loving Mobius, elects to not take that away from them. “You are just fine without the TVA.” 

Yet, Loki must choose an act of profound selfless love to save everyone. In doing so, he saves and frees Mobius in the way Mobius saved and freed him. The tragedy and, once again, poetic irony is that they both would have chosen each other. In giving everyone freedom, the true freedom of Loki and Mobius is sacrificed. This double-standard reflects in our reality between those who identify as cis and heterosexual and those who do not. 

When Mobius looks at his timeline in S2E6, he does so for one reason: that timeline survived because of Loki’s sacrifice. He must honor that sacrifice and see what Loki protected. Mobius appreciates what he finds, but he doesn’t belong there. It is not what he ultimately longs for. And there must be worry, shame, in recognizing he would prefer to give up the house and two children if a life with Loki were a viable choice. 

We all experience loss in our lives. Loss without a goodbye is also commonplace but is another pain that is more acute within the intersectional queer community. I speak of missed opportunities for happiness due to external forces. I speak of loss of self. I speak of loss of friends and family and home. I speak of death, losing a loved one without a goodbye, because same-sex lovers are not considered next of kin, an impossibility without marriage. Marriage echoes back to Don, who has no spouse, and Mobius, who has no partner. 

#asks #loki #mobius #lokius #loki season 2 #loki series #loki meta #my meta #loki analysis #my analysis #queer community #queer #queer representation #queer relationships #lgbt representation #lgbtq community #lgbtqia

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

Old Friends (pt. 2)

Max Cooperman x f!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, oral female receiving, dom max, underage drinking, underage smoking, rough sex, drunkish sex, pretty smutty guys you are warned

summary: after what happened between you and max, you can’t stop thinking about it… but he hasn’t called you since. whats gonna happen when you go back for a much smaller gathering?

word count: 3.3k

a/n: i’m finally back after like 4 months… hope this was worth the wait ;)

~~~

Your heart is racing. You’re in the back of Baja’s car. You, her, and Jake just pulled into Max’s driveway. It’s been two weeks since the Fourth of July party, two weeks since you’ve seen or heard from Max. You’ve been waiting for him to reach out, for him to tell you he doesn’t regret it and that he wants to see you again. But he hasn’t. You know he’s changed; you should’ve seen it coming, but it still hurts you that he was so willing to throw away your entire friendship for a one-time thing.

“Y/N? Come on, we’ve been sitting here for like five minutes get moving,” Baja says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You nod and get out of her car. Did Max know they brought you to this hangout? Baja told you it was just going to be like the old days again. However, you doubt it’ll be like old times given what happened. The four of you were going to get crossed and watch movies. Max’s parents weren’t home again, so you guys are going to have the place to yourselves. You’d be excited if you weren’t already so nervous.

You follow Jake and Baja to Max’s door; you can hear your heartbeat in your ears, your stomach is full of nervous butterflies. You wish you didn’t agree to come. The only reason you did was because if you didn’t, Baja would’ve suspected something happened between you and Max. She already knew you hooked up with a guy at the party, but you refused to tell her who. You felt bad lying to your best friend, but it’s better this way. You didn’t want anyone to know about what Max considers to be that one mistake, it would make things awkward. So, you kept it secret.

After a few seconds of standing at the front door, Max opens it wide. He greets you all with a warm smile, but you can see the way his eyes shift when they meet yours. All you can think about is the way those same dark eyes looked into yours in his car, it’s all you’ve thought about for the past two weeks. But now, seeing him in front of you, makes it ten times worse. You regret coming.

“Finally, you guys are late,” Max says.

Jake pats Max’s shoulders and laughs. “Sorry, Baja took forever as usual to get ready. Then we had to get y/n too. But we made it.”

“Yeah, yeah, get in,” Max replied, pushing Jake inside.

“Nice to see you again Max.” Baja smiles and follows Jake in.

Max’s eyes meet yours again as you slowly enter. You don’t know if you’re glad or upset at the fact that he doesn’t say anything to you. It doesn’t matter. You brush it off and follow Jake and Baja into the living room. Max already set a few bottles of alcohol on the coffee table along with some cups. The sight makes you happier than ever. You jump onto the couch and start to look more specifically at each of the bottles.

“Jesus, you already want to get drunk?” Baja asks with a small chuckle.

You look back at her and nod. “Hell yeah, the last time I drank was here and that was too weeks ago.”

You set on the bottle of pink lemonade Smirnoff; it has the highest percentage of alcohol on the table. You unscrew the top and pour yourself a shot. Baja and Jake sit on the couch and start to look at the bottles as well. Without another thought, you take the shot. You love the way it burns your throat, but you hate the sweet aftertaste it leaves. However, it’s a perfect distraction from the boy who’s now sitting on the opposite end of the couch.

“What are we watching?” Jake questions the group.

“I was thinking horror,” Baja answers.

“That’s fine,” Max agrees.

Their eyes turn to you. You simply nod.

“Great, let’s get this going,” Jake says as he grabs the remote.

You glance at Max again and see he’s already looking at you, a strange look in his eyes. You quickly avert your eyes. It’s going to be a long night.

~~~

After the first movie, all of you are drunk. You lost count of how many shots you took, and you have no idea how many times you hit Max’s bong. This was the first time in two weeks you weren’t worrying about what your status with him was, so in simple terms, you felt amazing.

Baja is passed out on Jake’s shoulder, Jake is trying his best to find another movie to play, and Max is lying back on the couch with his eyes closed. You know he’s not asleep because every couple of minutes he speaks. You don’t want to think about how many times already this night you’ve looked at him. You feel ashamed, it’s as though you can’t keep your eyes off him. It’s awful.

“Guys I think I’m gonna pass out,” Jake says. He stands up, stumbling a bit. “Can we crash in one of your guest rooms?”

“Of course, just don’t fuck too loud. The walls are very thin,” Max replies, his eyes still closed.

“Noted.”

Jake picks up Baja carefully in bridal style and starts to walk out of the living room and down one of the halls. You giggle as you see him stumble into a wall slightly. When you turn back to the TV. the realization hits you. Now that they’re gone it’s just you and Max... alone. If it weren’t for all the alcohol and weed, you’d be freaking out right now. You’re able to keep your composure though, deep down you’re nervous something awkward will happen.

You grab the remote, trying your best to be quiet and not make Max open his eyes. You almost succeed, but just as you settle back into your spot away from him, he sits up. He turns his head toward you, meeting your eyes for the millionth time that night.

“Are you putting something on?” He asks, his voice alone making your stomach fill with butterflies.

“Yeah, if that’s okay,” you reply.

He slightly nods. “Go ahead.”

You pick the first movie you see and settle into your spot more, pulling a blanket over your body. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Max is watching you and every so often he shifts just a little bit, making the space between the two of you smaller and smaller. You try your hardest to keep your attention on the screen, but once Max is only a foot away from you, you can’t take it any longer.

You look at him, annoyed. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing, just enjoying the movie like you are,” he answers casually.

“No- I mean...” You struggle to find the words, the alcohol still affecting you. You shake your head and stand up. “Never mind, I’m going to bed.”

You begin to turn but Max grabs your wrist. You swear it’s as though his hand is an electric fence. Tingles travel throughout your body at his touch. You instantly turn your head and look down at him, the memories of the last time he did this replay through your head. His eyes are dark, they look the same as they did in his car moments before everything went down. You don’t know what to think of it.

“Stay,” he mumbles.

“Why? You clearly aren’t interested in me,” you snap. “I shouldn’t have even come tonight I’m so stupid.”

“What makes you think that? Do you not remember what I said to you the last time we saw each other? You’re the one who hasn’t called me since the party,” he says.

You shake your head again. “You never called me. I waited and waited and didn’t get a single word. If you wanted it to just be a one-night stand you could’ve told me that before I left because then you would’ve spared me all those hours waiting for a simple fucking call.”

“Woah hold on. I was waiting for you to call me,” he replies.

The two of you stare at each other for a few seconds. You’re confused. Was all of this just a misunderstanding? Had he really been waiting for you to make the first move? From the way he’s staring up at you, you believe what he said. Part of you feels guilty, you shouldn’t have simply expected him to contact you first.

“I’m sorry I just thought that you were going to call me,” you apologize.

Max moves his thumb across your wrist, you almost shiver. “I’m sorry too. I really wanted to see you again all those days.”

“You did?”

Your heart begins to race as it did mere hours ago, but this time for a completely different reason. He continues to move his thumb on your skin, the simple contact making the pit of your stomach fill with that familiar warmth and your panties begin to dampen.

“Of course, I did. You’re all I can think about. I know I said I wouldn’t care if it was only that one time, but I lied. I need it again, I need you again,” he says.

He pulls your wrist gently, guiding you back onto the couch next to him. You don’t object. When he leans closer to you, you don’t dare move. His lips are only inches from yours now, his other hand gripping yours tightly. You’ve never wanted another person more than you want Max right now.

“Can I have you again?” He asks under his breath.

You nod, you’re too lost in the way he’s looking at you to speak.

“I need to hear it y/n, use your words,” he whispers.

“I’ve been yours to have Max, and I think it’s going to stay that way for a while,” you reply, so quietly a person a foot away from you wouldn’t even be able to hear.

“Good, because I’m going to want you again, and again, and again...”

Your lips meet, and you feel that same spark flow throughout your body. You kiss him hard, your hands instantly finding their way to his soft curls. He reciprocates in all the right ways. His hands move to your breasts, your waist, your neck... caressing, fondling, and pleasing every inch of you that they touch. You can’t get enough of it.

He slowly lays you down on the couch after a few minutes, his body filling the space between your legs instantly. You fight back moans as his lips begin to travel down your neck, sucking the spots he quickly learns drive you insane. One of his hands finds the bottom of your shirt and he starts to pull it up.

“No, what if Jake or Baja come out?” You question. His lips are still on your neck, it takes everything inside you to not make a noise. “Max?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep watch, just wait a minute,” he answers, his breath tickling your neck.

You trust him, so you simply close your eyes and let the feeling of his rough hands on your bare stomach take over. He lifts your shirt up enough to expose your breasts, you aren’t wearing a bra. You sigh as he kneads one of your breasts in his hand. His hands are so big, so rough, so warm. He pinches your nipple, making you squirm. You were surprised the first time by his dominance, Max always used to be a follower. But now he seems even more dominant, it only makes the wetness in your panties grow.

You let him pull your shirt over your head, you let him throw it on the floor, you even let him suck your nipples out in this open area. The thought of Baja or Jake walking out and seeing the two of you like this excites you, though you know it shouldn’t. It’s wrong, and if you were caught, you’d face major consequences. You don’t think about that though, in fact, you don’t think at all at this moment.

Max pulls back and takes off his shirt. Your eyes travel up and down his torso, his body still receiving that same surprised reaction from you. You press one of your hands onto his chest, your fingers move down his body slowly. He’s so warm, so inviting. He leans back over you and captures your lips in another kiss.

You continue to move your hand down his body till you reach the waistband of his shorts. You can feel how hard he is through his clothes; it almost makes you squirm. You move your other hand down and pull at his remaining clothing. He doesn’t object, and in a matter of seconds, his shorts and boxers are on the floor. A soft moan leaves his lips as you gently wrap a hand around his hard cock and stroke.

“God, I need you,” he mumbles against your lips. The tone of his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

He leans back so he’s kneeling on the couch and begins to unbutton your shorts. You lift your hips as he drags them down your body, kicking them off once they reach your ankles. A woman in the movie screams just as Max begins to play with your soaking cunt. You’re glad, because the second his fingers find your clit, your silence is over. You practically whimper at the sensation. He toys with you for a few moments, making your toes curl when he finds that perfect spot inside you with his fingertips.

“Max,” you moan, one of your hands gripping his wrist. “I’m close.”

He removes his hand instantly and your eyes shoot open, what is he doing? You’re about to say something but that’s when he starts moving down the couch. You watch his head fall between your legs. His eyes meet yours as he sticks out his tongue and tastes you for the first time tonight. A soft sigh escapes your lips, your head falls back on the couch.

Barely five have passed by the time you feel your orgasm approaching again. Something about the way Max is so willing to go down on you makes you so much more turned on. You don’t say anything, you don’t have the time because before you can speak, you’re already falling apart on his tongue. You cover your mouth with your hand, your body shakes as you cum.

He stops a few seconds before you’re overstimulated and returns to his kneeling position between your legs. Before you even catch your breath, he grabs your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. He pulls your hips, so your ass is in the air. You arch your back, half on your own, half from his hand that moves up to your lower back and pushes down so you bend more. It hurts, but you can’t get enough of it.

“Are you good with no condom again?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

You feel the tip of his cock line up with your entrance, it makes goosebumps appear on your skin. This is the moment you’ve been craving for two weeks. As he slowly begins sliding inside of you, you gasp. He stretches you almost to the point of it being painful. You bite down on your arm to keep yourself from screaming from the pleasure. You hear Max softly moan, the sound of his raspy voice making you clench around him.

“Be quiet baby, like I said the walls are very thin,” he says. You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. It only turns you on more.

He begins his slow thrusts, the pace both agonizing and glorifying at the same time. You want more, you need more. But you know he’s doing it to taunt you, to hear you beg him for more, so you bite your tongue. Max must realize you’re on to him because he slows down even more, not even going all the way in. It hurts, and not in the way you want it to. You give in.

“Faster Max, harder Max, stop fucking me like I’m some untouched virgin,” you whisper.

He laughs. “You’re the first girl to insult me while my dick is inside you.”

You look over your shoulder and can’t help the smile that takes over your face. It was almost like you forgot it was Max you were having sex with. The same Max that you used to make fun of for being a virgin, the same Max you used to have to convince your parents wasn’t gay. He’s not a stranger, no matter how much his appearance changes he’s always going to be your best friend Max.

“Just fuck me please, before they come out here for water,” you reply after a few seconds.

“Your wish is my command.”

Max rams his hips into yours so hard it hurts. You moan, too loud for your liking. Neither of you say anything about it though, you’re too caught up in the moment. He fucks you rough, his skin slapping yours at an incredibly fast pace. You bury your face in the couch, your hands gripping the couch hard. He hits that spot inside you with every thrust, each time he hits it making you closer and closer to finishing.

He places one of his hands on your shoulder and pulls you back, so his dick moves even deeper inside you. You can’t help the loud whine that leaves your lips. The pain is almost unbearable. Almost. He lets go of your shoulder after a few thrusts and instead slaps your ass. All these sensations drive you crazy, blurring your mind and your body.

“Max I-I'm close,” you whimper after a few more minutes.

“Me too baby, me too,” he replies, his breath ragged.

When you finish, your entire body shakes, and you struggle to keep yourself up. Max finishes only a few seconds after you, his dick pulsing hard inside of you. Once you’re both finished, he pulls out and you fall from your position. Your heart is beating rapidly, your face is flushed, you can barely breathe. You’ve never experienced sex so rough in your life. And you can’t believe how much you enjoy it.

Max lays down next to you, covering your naked bodies with a blanket. You just stare at the TV. as the credits for the movie start to play, your breath finally catching up with you.

“If Jake and Baja ask about the noise, do you just wanna tell them it was a movie we had on really loud?” Max eventually asks.

You chuckle and turn your body to face him. “No, let’s just tell them we were having incredibly rough and loud sex.”

“Are you serious?”

You chuckle again. “Obviously not. We can’t tell them anything about this unless we start dating, but I doubt that will happen.”

“Why do you doubt that?”

“Well, I mean, I’m gonna be leaving the state again and you’ll be back at your school. I wouldn’t want to hold you back from all the girls who’ve been missing what I just experienced,” you explain.

“Well, I don’t want any other guy to touch you like that,” he says, his words causing you to blush.

“Is long distance really something you’d want to do? We wouldn’t be able to do this until the holidays you know.”

“I know, but that’s what’ll keep it special. Imagine how good it’ll be after months of not doing it. But it’s not even just about the sex, I’ve wanted to be your boyfriend since like junior year,” he reveals.

You smile. “If you want to try then so do I, but I want it to actually work out. I don’t want to break up and then have the friend group split. I want it to last.”

He wraps his arm around you and pulls your body against his. “I think it’ll last.”

You couldn’t agree more.

#evan peters #evan peters smut #tate langdon #evan peters x reader #fanfiction #kai anderson #james march x reader #jimmy darling #kit walker #tate langdon x y/n #max cooperman #max cooperman smut #never back down #max cooperman x reader #tate langdon smut #smut #ahs fandom #ahs murder house #ahs coven #ahs cult #ahs hotel #american horror story #american horror murder house #kyle #x reader #x reader smut #female reader #i’m so in love with evan peters #american animals #warren lipka

[ilguna]

Can I please get #14 from list 1 with Johanna either prepping for the 75th or in the area during the 75th? Thank you!

☼ slippery show (Johanna Mason) ☼

warnings; swearing, johanna's naked, a little nsfw.

wc; 1.5k

prompt; 14. getting turned on when they see the other succeeding.

—

“Finnick, genuinely, do you know anything about archery?” You ask, watching as he pulls a medium-sized bow off of the display table.

He briefly glances at you, unbothered by your tone. It wouldn’t be the first time in your life that you’ve questioned his abilities, because of this, he doesn’t let your doubt waver his confidence. With the bow in one hand, he reaches to grab a matching arrow with the other.

“I think you’ll be surprised.” He says.

“Really?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “Let’s see it, then, golden boy.”

Finnick gives you a look, one that tells you that you’re about to eat your words. When he holds the bow up, sliding the arrow across it, you take a step back to give him more room. He pulls the string back, taking in a deep breath, and releases the arrow when he breathes out.

The arrow hits the very outer circle of the target.

You sputter out a laugh, Finnick’s head whips in your direction to give you a nasty glare. You cover your mouth, but the giggles escape through your fingers. You can’t take him seriously, ever, and this is the exact reason why. He pretends like he knows what he’s doing, and then he does something stupid that you saw coming.

“I really can’t say I’m surprised.” You manage to get out. “Do it again.”

The corners of his lips twitch upward. “Shut up.”

“Come on, Finnick.” You grin, eyes wandering away to the rest of the gymnasium.

“No, it’s your turn.” Finnick holds the bow out, “You can’t just laugh at me without doing it, too.”

“Oh, yeah I can.” You tell him, eyes landing on Johanna.

She’s halfway across the room, standing next to a wrestling mat with one of the training experts. She’s got her arms crossed, head tilted to the side while she listens to what the woman has to say about the station. She must get bored, because she turns her attention away, landing on you.

The two of you lock eyes for a long moment, neither of you moving. And then, Johanna gives you a slight smirk.

“Here.” Finnick takes your hand, putting the bow in it. “We can take turns laughing at each other.”

You force yourself to look away from your girlfriend, to Finnick. You’d much rather be over there with her. The reason why you’re not is because she wanted to try out some of the solo training stations, and Finnick wanted to see if you had any hidden skills he should know about.

Despite telling him that you know as much as he does, considering you come from the same district, he’s going to drag you around the gymnasium until he’s satisfied or it’s lunch time. So far, he’s taken you to the more obvious and easy places to start. You can throw a spear and a trident with your eyes closed. And a knife isn’t that difficult, either.

With those out of the way, he decided to take you to the archery area. It’s clear that he can shoot an arrow, just not very good. You’re not entirely sure if you’ll be any better at it. In fact, you might be worse.

You sigh, fixing the bow in your hand. “I’m going to suck.”

“Yeah, I know.” Finnick says. “I want a turn at laughing at you.”

“Thanks.” You make a face at him. 

You turn to the table with the arrows, plucking one of them off. You hold it up, looking it over. It’s made out of silver, glinting in the light. You bring up the bow, mimicking the way that Finnick had prepared the arrow against it. The archery expert seems to have already removed Finnick’s arrow, giving you a blank slate.

You press your lips together, pulling back the arrow, closing one of your eyes to aim, and then letting go of the arrow. It whistles through the air, filling the moment of silence, before it thwaps against the target, sticking in the circle surrounding the center.

Once again, you let out a laugh, a smile crossing your face as you turn to see a disappointed Finnick. He rolls his eyes at you, and you place the bow back onto the display table. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“That was luck.” Finnick says.

“Or pure talent that you seem to lack.” You suggest, Finnick squints at you.

“When did you become so mean?”

“Probably right around the time I started dating Johanna.” You say, and the two of you look over.

Johanna’s peeling her tank top off, starting at the bottom and pulling up. She gets to her ribcage and stops, making sure your eyes are on her. The further she pulls up, the more skin she exposes, and reveals that she didn’t put a bra on this morning.

Finnick looks away, not interested in seeing her topless. You, however, are a different story. She wanted to make sure that you were watching, so you will.

She reaches down, thumbs hooking on the inside of her white leggings, slowly pulling them down her thighs. You shake your head at her with a smile, knowing full well that she thinks this is a game. She doesn’t care what anyone else in this room could possibly think.

When she’s got her leggings around her ankles, she swings it up with one leg, catching it in her hand. Only left in her underwear, she raises her eyebrows at you, and you cock your head to the side. 

Is she going to go any further?

The training expert comes over, taking the clothes from Johanna. She pinches at the fabric hiding her lower half, talking to the expert. The expert shrugs, motioning to her underwear. Johanna smiles, and then you watch as she begins to pull that down, too.

“What station is she at?” You ask Finnick.

“The wrestling one.” He says, turning away, “Let’s go fight with sicles.”

��Nope, I’m done playing with toys.” You tell him, “I’ll stay right here.”

“You’re going to watch your naked girlfriend wrestle with another woman?” Finnick asks, and then he starts laughing. “Why don’t you two just get a room?”

“You’re just jealous your super hot girlfriend isn’t here, instead.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest again.

You watch as the expert hands something over, Johanna squirts it into her hand, and then begins to rub it over her body. It takes a few seconds for you to realize that it’s oil that she’s spreading on her skin. Which means that this is going to be a slippery match.

“Well, I’m not going to sit here and watch Johanna.”

“That’s fine, you can go and bother the teenagers. I know that’s what you’ve been waiting for.” You sit down on one of the benches that are scattered across the room. “I’m going to enjoy the show.”

Finnick lets out a gag, walking away, you laugh at his reaction.

As soon as Johanna’s done oiling herself down, she and the wrestling expert go head to head. This is when she’s able to show just how good she’s gotten at fighting up close with people. It should be hard for the expert to get her hands on Johanna, but by the way she grabs your girlfriend, it’s like the oil doesn’t even affect her.

Still, Johanna takes the expert down on the mat easily, several times. She’ll twist her body around the legs, or do a maneuver where she flips the expert onto her back. She does it so effortlessly, like she’s done it her entire life. 

It’s mesmerizing.

Not only is Johanna incredibly gorgeous, but she’s also smart and talented. No matter how many times you tell her this, she always brushes you off. Then moments like these come around and you wonder how you managed to get so lucky ending up with someone so wonderful.

You press your knees together, gritting your teeth as you watch her pin down the expert, hand wrapped around their throat. It’s tense for a moment, and then Johanna backs off, letting out a laugh.

The two of them get back to their feet, where the expert walks off to the table, picking up a white towel. She tosses it to Johanna, who immediately begins to wipe the oil off of her body. You don’t move from where you sit, letting her pull on her underwear before getting to your feet.

The moment she’s noticed that you’ve gotten up, a smile comes across her face. She’s managed to pull on her leggings by the time you reach her, but she’s still missing her top. You don’t really care, and neither does she. 

Johanna doesn’t resist when you pull her in by her hips, lips hovering over hers. She closes the gap, a warm and breathless feeling comes over your body. There’s something about Johanna that’s intoxicating, and you can’t get away from it. Not that you’d ever want to.

She pulls away, lips turned up.

You lean in close, your right cheek pressed to hers as you go to her ear, murmuring, “Maybe you should come back to mine tonight, yeah?”

--

this is part of my 3k celebration!! you can join until the cure is released on October 31st, at midnight!!

#ilguna #johanna mason #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason x you #johanna mason x yn #johanna mason x y/n #johanna imagine #johanna oneshot #johanna fanfic #johanna x reader #johanna x you #johanna x yn #johanna x y/n #thg #the hunger games #3k celebration #request #an--actual--human--disaster #ask #fluff

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Mary L. Trump at The Good in Us Substack:

Normally, my issue with the corporate media is their failure to shine a light on stories that matter. But in this case, it seems some segments of the corporate media, primarily Fox, is hellbent on helping Donald interfere with his trial through jury intimidation. It’s a disturbing reality that we must confront. Last night, Donald Trump posted the following on social media: “They are catching undercover liberal activists lying to the judge,” Jesse Watters.

Lawyers and legal analysts like Ryan Goodman and Andrew Weissman made it clear that this was a serious breach, the most serious to date, of Judge Merchan’s gag order – one that should be dressed immediately.  The fact that Donald was quoting somebody else is irrelevant. This seemed to be a blatant case of jury tampering, especially since, at the time of this was posted, five jurors and all six alternates remained to be chosen. I fully expected today’s proceedings to begin with the judge announcing that the so-called Sandoval hearing, which he originally scheduled, would be held today before any other court business. This seemed to be a reasonable assumption considering the purpose of that hearing was so the judge can rule on the prosecution’s contention that Donald should be held in contempt and sanctioned accordingly.

Juror Number 2 dismissed

It’s not uncommon for a juror to be chosen and subsequently let go during the selection process. That was the case with Juror Four after the prosecution discovered the man may have been untruthful in some of his answers. Juror Two’s circumstances were different. She was excused after telling the court that she’d become concerned that her identity might be discovered after her family and  friends questioned her about her possible involvement in the trial following media coverage. The fact that the judge felt the need to keep the identities of jurors anonymous is a damning indictment of the criminal defendant. And clearly the jurors understand the inherent danger of being seated on this jury. 

To put this in perspective, my friend and former U.S. Attorney, Joyce White Vance explained, “Typically, you would only see that happen in a case involving violent organized crime.” Following the juror’s feedback, Judge Merchan reprimanded the press for reporting far too much information about the jurors. [Out of an abundance of caution, I deleted the section about the jurors from last night’s post.]

[...] In a disturbing display of media influence, Fox host Jesse Watters went through the list of jurors, with identifying characteristics like employment, gender, place of residence, and commented on each one. 

Watters then singled out any jurors who didn’t align with his idea of what a juror should be (pro-Donald) and cast doubt on their ability to be fair and impartial. This is not just unethical, it’s dangerous. Fox, on Donald’s behalf, is actively helping Donald create an atmosphere of fear among the jurors. In a just world, Watters would be fired for his irresponsible behavior, but Fox has no interest in justice. Consider what Josh Kovensky of Talking Points Memo, pointed out: “Instead of operating within the process of jury selection, which assumes that people are capable of setting aside whatever political beliefs or biases they may have in order to render a good faith judgment on the evidence, it casts the assumptions underlying that process as Trump’s enemy to be defeated, implying that the jurors themselves are incapable of both being impartial in their judgment of him and participating in a political system in which he is a main actor.”

[...]

Donald amplifies Fox, scares a juror, and breaks his gag order

So far, here’s the pattern: A Fox personality attacks the judge or jury, and then Donald shares it on Truth Social as a way to give himself plausible deniability: He can distance himself from the quote by saying it doesn’t represent what he actually believes. This is exactly what he did last night when he quoted Jesse Watters. Regardless of Donald’s attempts to pretend otherwise, this is a clear violation of his gag order and shows a blatant disregard for the legal process. He needs to be punished or this will spiral out of control quickly. We’re already seeing that his disrespectful behavior in the courtroom and flouting of norms — like refusing to stand when the prospective jurors enter the room or using his phone when nobody else is —has already gone too far. The gag order was imposed to prevent Donald from publicly speaking about witnesses, jurors, court staff and their families outside of the courtroom. Donald has run out of chances and his downfall will be of his own making.

[...]

Judge Merchan must lay the smackdown on Donald

Prosecutors have accused Donald of violating the court-imposed gag order SEVEN times since the commencement of the trial. And they will have a chance to make the case for Donald to be held accountable during a hearing next week. They have pointed to public statements and social media posts made by Donald over the past few days as evidence of these violations. They have described the situation as “ridiculous” and have called for it to stop, expressing frustration over Donald’s repeated breaches of the order. Former federal prosecutor Shannon Wu has now called on Merchan to strengthen the gag order to any communication about the trial beyond Donald saying he’s innocent and plans to defend himself. At the very least, Judge Merchan needs to be unequivocal in telling Donald and defense counsel that enough is enough. The repeated violations of the gag order and Donald’s attempts to interfere with the trial warrant serious repercussions. He cannot keep getting away with it.

Mary L. Trump writes in her Substack on how right-wing media outlets (esp. Fox's Jesse Watters) and Donald Trump are conducting witness tampering on the jury for the Trump falsification of business records trial. Trump Trial

#Jury Tampering #Witness Tampering #Donald Trump #Jesse Watters #People of New York v. Trump #Donald Trump Trial #Juan Manuel Merchan #Mary L. Trump #Mary Trump

[buckymorelikefuckme]

how to marry a millionaire | chapter two

mafia bucky x spoiled brat reader

words: 2.8k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** s*exual language, s*exual content, o*ral (m receiving), ex*hibtionism, thinly veiled threats (??) -- if i missed anything pls let me know my brain is fried

a/n: f i n a l l y... she is here. thank you @cultofcarter for reading through this for me :) as always, any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡

masterlist

“You've been an absolute delight this evening. Thank you for accompanying me.” He stands, coming around the table to offer his hand to you.

You accept it gratefully, your skin tingling from the contact as you rise from your seat. “Are you sending me home already?” you question, meeting his gaze straight on and ignoring the displeasure you feel when the warmth of his hand retreats.

Dinner had been, predictably, delicious. The conversation throughout was much more pleasant than you anticipated. He's got great banter, and you laughed more than you ever have on past dates. Honestly, he's so charming that you’ve almost forgotten you should be a little wary of him. You're hardly even putting up a front anymore.

He tilts his head, swiping his tongue along his bottom lip as he contemplates. “I’m not sure you're ready for more yet.”

“This is hardly the first time I've been through this song and dance, James,” you say coyly, tracing your index finger down the lapel of his suit jacket. “These sorts of arrangements are perfectly normal.”

He’s silent for a moment, watching you with unreadable eyes. You try to maintain eye contact, but it’s so intense you find yourself breaking it, glancing away to the empty room.

Everything about tonight has been nowhere near what you expected, especially James. You've dealt with enough men in your life to feel as if you know exactly how to handle them. Yet, with him, you feel like a complete novice. He’s totally unpredictable.

It’s unsettling.

It's exhilarating.

“I think you're confused about what's happening here,” he informs you. He grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. Your heart stutters in your chest and you have to physically force your shoulders to relax. “I'm not a fucking sugar daddy,” he states coolly, his expression still frustratingly blank. “I’m not interested in sharing and I’m not looking for something casual. If we’re to continue, we will be exclusive. I’ll still spoil you like crazy, don't worry about that, but I’m not going to throw money at you and not gain anything in return. The same way you know what you want, I know what I want. So you better decide now. It’ll be your only chance.”

Jesus. You know you should be terrified, because that was not a threat, it was a promise, yet for whatever reason it's got desire swirling in your core.

“You make it sound like you'll own me,” you mutter faintly.

His grin is all teeth. “Oh, sweetheart,” he starts, condescending, his grip on your chin tightening. “That's exactly what I mean.”

There is not even a hint of dishonesty in his eyes. You're not sure if that’s better or worse. The fact he's even giving you an opportunity to decline seems like it's a rare occurrence, so you actually take a moment to consider your options.

On the one hand, you're almost entirely positive his other work consists of illegal activities. You have no doubt that he’s done some truly nefarious things and that thought settles in your stomach like a heavy stone. His hands are definitely dirty. He’s a dangerous man, and there’s no way he hasn't made some enemies. The risks are substantial.

But, on the other hand, you have had a fantastic preview of what his money can get you. He's spent more on you in one day than some of your past sugar daddies have spent during the whole relationship. He's made it abundantly clear that he has more money than he knows what to do with. If you choose to agree to his stipulations, you could very well be set for life. Call you greedy, or even selfish, but you have every right to be spoiled beyond your wildest dreams as much as the next person.

It's with that in mind that you take the smallest step closer to him, craning your neck to hold his stare, his hand loosening and dropping. You slide your palms around his waist.

“May I still call you daddy?”

He grins wider, a wicked glint in his eyes. “You fucking better.”

Your chin drops slightly so you can look at him through your lashes.

“And do I still have to go home?”

“Well, I suppose that depends,” he hedges. “If we leave here together, I can no longer promise any type of restraint from me. I've used all of my willpower through dinner to keep from taking you on the table.”

Biting your lip, you hold back the needy noise that almost escaped. “I fail to see how that would be a problem,” you reply breathily.

You feel his hands slide down until they reach your ass. He squeezes roughly and you’re not quick enough to stop a gasp from slipping. His expression tells you he liked hearing it, liked knowing he could put a crack in your pristine, iron-clad composure.

“Then, I guess you better follow me to the car,” he says, landing a smack on one of your ass cheeks.

He threads his fingers through yours and begins walking towards the kitchen, pulling you along with him in the process. You do your best to keep up with his long strides, but you struggle to match his pace. Your heels do not make up for the height difference between the two of you. His legs are longer than yours, no matter what. He's a tall bastard. He's quite large, in general, actually. And according to him, that includes his cock, though you'll be able to determine if it's true or not very soon. Just the thought sends a rush of heat through you.

The employees in the kitchen all scramble to clear the way for James when you enter, their eyes trained on the floor as he marches by. Clearly, they know exactly who he is and what he's capable of and are not keen on getting on his bad side. They must've been in the middle of cleaning, you think, because there are rags on the stainless steel counters and a huge sink full of soapy water with pots and pans draining on the counter next to it.

“Dinner was perfect, gentlemen,” James announces as he passes. “Thank you for your time.”

Nobody responds verbally, but you see their shoulders slump in relief.

“You can take tomorrow off,” he adds, smiling when excited murmuring picks up after you've turned a corner and entered a narrow hallway. There's another overly tall, beefy man standing next to the door. “Anything I should know about?” James asks as you both approach.

“No,” the man replies, curt.

James nods. “Thank you, Steve. Is Sam ready with the car?”

“Yes. I assume the girl is coming with you.”

“The girl has a name, asshole,” you interject before James even has a chance to open his mouth.

The man, Steve, cuts his eyes to you. “With all due respect,” he starts, and you can already tell he means no respect, whatsoever, “I was speaking to my boss. Not his arm candy.”

You scowl. “Regardless, I would appreciate not being talked about like I’m not here, you overgrown guard dog.”

James snorts. Steve stares at you for a beat, then cracks a smile, shaking his head.

“You've met your match, Buck,” he states.

“It would appear so,” James agrees.

Steve pushes open the door and the three of you walk out into an alleyway where four black SUVs are idling. Steve tugs on the handle to the back door to one of them and beckons you and James to get in. The doors lock as soon as he closes it.

“I take it your date went well,” says the man in the driver seat.

“Better than anticipated,” James replies, winking in your direction. “Take us to the estate, please, Sam.”

Sam gives James a salute and shifts the gear into drive.

“The estate?” you inquire as the sparkling city lights pass by.

James hums. “Yes.”

“Still trying to impress me, huh?” you tease.

“Of course,” he replies easily. “Can't have you getting bored.”

“Cute,” you claim.

He huffs a laugh. “Nothing about me is cute.”

“That's debatable,” you retort.

Sam lets out a quiet snicker that changes into a cough when James clears his throat pointedly. You giggle, leaning into James’ arm.

“Oh, c’mon. Don't tell me the big, bad, scary man isn't allowed to be cute once in a while.” When all you get in response is an eye roll and a clenched jaw, you sigh dramatically. “Okay, fine. You're not cute.”

“Thank you,” he says loftily.

“Big baby,” you mumble.

His hand, which has been comfortably resting on your bare knee, squeezes hard enough that you jerk in surprise and barely bite back the protest on the tip of your tongue.

“You ought to be nicer to me.”

His voice is low and his eyes are dark with warning. You’re suddenly struck with the understanding at that moment that you're not necessarily promised anything here, not yet. One wrong move could land you on your ass, or worse, so it's in your best interest to keep a man like him happy. With that thought in mind, you make a mental note that too much teasing is off limits. For now, at least.

“Sorry,” you respond quietly. You let your palm glide across his thigh. “Let me make it up to you?”

He eases his grip slightly. “What did you have in mind?”

“Considering we’re headed for the highway, I imagine we have some time to kill,” you observe.

“Smart girl,” he praises, letting go of your knee entirely and reaching for the hand on his thigh, directing it to the considerable bulge in his slacks.

You cup him through his pants and realize he's not even hard yet, which makes the size of what you're feeling even more mouthwateringly impressive.

“Wanna blow you,” you request, meeting his eyes. “Please.”

“You're not worried about having an audience?” he wonders, nodding towards Sam.

“It wouldn't be the first time,” you confess with a cheeky grin. “And I doubt it'll be the last.”

James matches your grin then gestures to his pants. “Go ahead, doll.”

You're extremely grateful for the spacious floors in the backseat as you lower yourself to your knees and maneuver your way between James’ legs. These luxury SUVs are top notch for a multitude of reasons, but this is always one of the main ones for you.

You waste no time in undoing James’ Italian leather belt, the button and zip on his slacks following, then lower the band of his boxer briefs to pull his cock out. You wish you could say you're surprised, but the fact he has a perfect cock isn't all that shocking. The length of it alone is worthy of praise, but it's the girth that makes your cunt clench around nothing. He's going to feel fucking divine inside your pussy, but for now, you'll settle for getting your mouth on him. You wrap your lips around the head as you stroke him, getting him as hard as possible, swiping your tongue across his slit.

“So pretty,” he compliments. You glance up at him coquettishly and he smiles. “Yeah, yeah. You know.”

You hum around him, pleased, and he sighs as he settles more into the seat. You take another inch of him in your mouth, slowly working your way down his above-average length. As much as it pains you to admit, even to yourself, you can't deepthroat. It's not for lack of trying, or anything. You've just unfortunately been graced with an unforgiving gag reflex. God had to keep you humble somehow. So you'll have to make up for it, take as much of his cock as you can and work the rest with your hands.

Normally, you're the type to give sloppy head, but since you're both in nice clothes, you keep it fairly tame. James doesn't have any room for complaints either, considering the way his mouth is slack and he's got his head tipped back. He's letting out these clipped, quiet noises, like he's trying to hold them in, but it just makes you work harder to get more out of him.

You slowly pull off his cock, and when you reach the tip you lightly graze your bottom teeth along his frenulum. His hips spasm and you smile when his eyes quickly find yours. They're blazing, pupils blown and just a touch glassy. Holding his gaze, you dig your tongue in his slit, and the way the vein in his neck pops is so satisfying that you keep doing it for several more seconds. You take him back in your mouth, stroking him with one hand and using the other to play with his balls. His breathing picks up, his chest heaving with it, yet he still only lets cut off sounds slip past his lips.

It's when you let go of his balls, moving your fingers down a little further to put pressure on his perineum, that he finally groans. Deep, guttural, and music to your ears. After that, all bets are off. You go from bobbing on his cock to stroking it at a brutal pace and sucking on his balls, back and forth, all while continuing to massage his perineum. And to your absolute delight, James is putty in your hands. He still tries to cut off his noises, but he's mostly unsuccessful.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he grits through his teeth, fingers digging into the leather seat below him so hard his knuckles turn white.

You’re understandably proud of yourself, but your jaw is starting to hurt, so it's time to bring this blowjob to an end. Stroking his cock even faster, you hollow your cheeks and put suction around the head, rubbing his perineum harder. His hips begin shifting, his noises going slightly higher in pitch, breaths coming out in harsh pants. You look up at him with watery eyes and he whines, ass coming up off the seat about an inch, his jaw locking, and then with a drawn out groan, he comes.

You moan as his cum fills your mouth, swallowing all of it as you help him through his climax. He twitches with aftershocks and grunts with overstimulation, but you wait for him to weakly push at your head before you let go of him.

With one last lick to the red head of his cock, you murmur, “Thank you, daddy.”

He laughs, a breathy, disbelieving sound, and wipes a hand down his blissed out face.

“I don't know what kind of stars aligned for us to meet, but I’m sending all of my thanks to whatever deity that made it happen.”

You giggle, pushing yourself back up into the seat beside him as he sluggishly puts his cock back in his boxers and rights his trousers. He's practically boneless where he sits and you know you've done a fantastic job at making up for your thoughtless teasing to him.

“Once we get to the estate, I’ll take care of you, doll,” he promises with a lethargic grin. “Wanna get you spread out on a bed.”

“You won't get any complaints out of me,” you assure.

For the rest of the ride, you and James chatter about anything that comes to mind. Sam, who'd been totally silent before, pipes in when prompted and you're pleased to find he's got a sense of humor that rivals yours. It feels like hardly any time has passed when the car is turned into a driveway with an iron gate. Sam punches in a code on a keypad and the gate opens.

When you're able to get a good look out of the windshield at the looming home ahead of you, your jaw drops. It's fucking massive. You faintly register James snickering next to you, but your attention is better drawn to the mansion you're pulling in front of. You're still gawking when Sam comes around to open the door for you and James. Your “thank you” is quiet and mumbled and not all that polite, but like. C’mon.

“It's nice, huh?” James asks.

“That would be a fucking egregious understatement,” you retort, head tilted up to take in all the grandeur.

He steps up behind you, his front pressed all along your back, nose nuzzling your neck and ear, hands settling low on your hips. “I do believe I promised to lay you out on my bed.”

“That you did,” you murmur, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

“I’m a man of my word,” he says. “Always.”

Of that you have no doubt.

“I suppose you should take me inside then,” you reply.

Without another word, he links his hand with yours and leads you inside. You barely make it over the threshold before he's swept you off your feet, literally, and carries you up the stairs, grinning at your giggles.

You'll get a tour of the place in the morning, you guess.

#avengers fic #marvel fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #mafia bucky barnes x spoiled brat reader #mafia au #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x female reader

[akittenwrites]

Queen of Ice and Prince of Fire [3]

Author: @akittenwrites

Summary: Lady Y/N Stark of Winterfell has declared herself Queen in the North. That means war, against King Viserys, and also against Prince Daemon. But the Rogue Prince doesn't want to fight her.

Type: multichapter series

Chapter: three

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x reader

Word count: 3811

Warnings: swearing, smut.

Part one.

Part two.

Daemon rested his back on the wooden chair, his eyes roaming over Y/N's body. Now that they were inside, sitting face to face, he allowed himself to enjoy her. He recognized the silk of her dress. It matched her eyes, just as he had thought it would when he acquired it. But it wasn't her fine dress that had his attention right now.

Her breasts were pushed up by the tight bustier, and he decided that was where he would settle his eyes while she thought of what to say. They had been silent for a few minutes now, only illuminated by the flames of the substantial fireplace next to them. Surprisingly, even he, a man not used to the cold, thought there was no need for such a large fire. The castle was incredibly warm, which he had noticed as soon as they had entered it.

After spending what felt like not enough time embracing each other in the Godswood, Y/N had pulled away, saying the words that needed to be said but neither wished to hear.

"We have important matters to discuss. Follow me."

She had walked a step back then, unfastening his dark cloak and letting it fall to the ground, revealing his black doublet, decorated with small silver chains. He wasn't wearing armor, not even chainmail underneath. He hadn't left his sword behind, though. Dark Sister was always with him.

"You look like you're here to assassinate me in that cloak," she explained, playing with a strand of his hair. Then she took his hand in hers to lead him out of the Godswood, the bright eyes of the direwolves no longer visible in the darkness of the woods.

"Maybe I am," he answered, making her chuckle.

"I would love to see you try," she responded, turning her head to smile at him. She seemed incredibly sure he posed no danger to her considering the message she had sent his brother a few days ago, the fact that he was armed and she wasn't, and also the fact that it was him she was dealing with. It was idiotic and naive, and it didn't matter if he was actually a danger to her or not. Not even he knew the answer to that question.

They had barely walked for a few minutes before Y/N let his hand go and one of the tall grey buildings of the castle became visible. They approached the enormous guarded double doors —those guards hadn't been there when Daemon had sneaked in— when Y/N stopped in her tracks and addressed one of the guards.

"Ser Alanor," she called, the man immediately turning to look at her. She waited a few seconds until Daemon was by her side. "Prince Daemon is our guest. Make sure the men are aware of it."

The man bowed his head.

"As my Queen commands."

Once that was settled —and Daemon leaned into her ear to whisper how the commander of her guard had looked at her too lasciviously, earning himself an eye-roll— they entered the building and walked through what appeared to be the Great Hall, with large tables and dozens of seats. Maids were setting up candles while the smell of cooked meat was in the air. Dinner, approximately 200 people, he counted. Around twenty seats at the high table, the largest made of carved stone. That was Y/N's spot, no doubt. And there was only one reason she was having such large dinners: guests. Bannermen. Boltons, Mormonts, Umbers, Glovers?

While Daemon observed everything carefully, the doors, the windows, the servants, and the watchmen, Y/N paid no mind with her head held high, ignoring the curious looks the servants were sending their way. They had surely been warned about his arrival, yet a Targaryen hadn't been in Winterfell for many years. Here the men and women had dark hair, with the occasional auburn or dark blonde. He had no way of not standing out with his long silver hair and his violet eyes. To these people, he probably looked out of this world, more god than man. Which is exactly what he thought he was.

Just as they were walking by, Y/N caught a young woman's arm.

"Ilana," she said, making her stop and turn around. She started to curtsy and greet them but Y/N interrupted her, raising her palm in the air to shut her up. "Prince Daemon and I will dine privately in my solar tonight, I will call when we are ready. Make sure there is no wine shortage in the Great Hall, and the bards only play joyful songs. Find Lord Karstark and the rest of the members of my small council and inform them Prince Daemon has come in peace and is our guest, with whom I will negotiate tonight."

Y/N made a small pause while Ilana nodded.

"Also, make sure the maids prepare our guest's chambers in the Great Keep. Use plenty of fur for the bed, he's not used to this kind of weather," she said in the end, before continuing on her way.

Considering she called him her guest, Y/N wasn't being very polite, forcing him to act like a lost puppy following her around. If only she would slow her pace...

This reminded him too much of how he used to follow her around in the Red Keep too, trying to keep up with her as she went from her chambers to the library and from the library to the courtyard and then back to the library again, with the exception he wasn't familiar with Winterfell and its people.

He wasn't sure if she was just being her usual self or if this was another subtle display of power, as the direwolves had been.

Soon, his thoughts quieted down as they were walking through winding dark corridors, with barely a few torches lighting the way. As his eyes adjusted he realized he didn't recognize this part of the castle. She slowed down her pace and he was finally walking by her side. He saw she had her hands wrung together, as she often did back in King's Landing when she wanted to take his hand but couldn't because they were in public.

He didn't know what was stopping her now. War? Formality? Honor? She may have been calling herself Queen, yet she struggled to act like one. She wasn't even twenty-five summers old yet.

"What do you northerners have against candles?" he whispered, figuring nobody was around to hear anyway. "Did you spend all your gold on weaponry? Maybe on armor? Should we donate candles to Winterfell?"

"We have more than enough gold, thank you for caring," she snapped, giving him a dirty look. "I apologize my castle is too dark for your liking, Prince Daemon. The Red Keep was too bright for mine."

He smiled to himself, remembering she used to blow out most of the candles her handmaidens lit in her chambers in the Red Keep. She preferred the cold and the darkness. Like a wolf.

They finally arrived at a wooden double door with two men standing guard outside. One of them bowed his head and opened the door for her, waiting for them to make their way inside before closing it, giving them privacy.

And that was where they were now. Sitting on the oversized wooden chairs in front of the fireplace, to his right a desk with lots of scrolls and some books, forgotten, and behind her a door that probably connected this solar to her private chambers.

The silence was long but not uncomfortable. There was a lot to think about before talking.

Finally, Y/N spoke, her voice cutting through the silence.

"Why are you here, Daemon?"

The flames barely illuminated their faces, the corners of the room submerged in darkness. Y/N's eyes were fixated on him.

"Because I wished to fuck you like the old times, so I figured I should visit," he responded nonchalantly, tilting his head to the side. "Wait, there was something else." He paused, pretending to think before his eyes scrutinized her, searing. The playfulness was gone from his voice now. "Maybe it is because you are calling yourself Queen of this barren piece of land and rebelling against my brother, your King. Unless there is some other crime you committed I should be aware of."

She raised an eyebrow.

"The Lords of the North named me their Queen. Don't act as if I take pleasure in any of this. Are you here to kill me, then?"

"No, but I will be," he answered honestly. "My brother can be very forgiving. That's what makes him a bad king, but it's also why you are still alive and will live the rest of your life in peace if you forget about this. Call off your bannermen. Burn your crown, wherever it is. Pretend this never happened and swear your loyalty to King Viserys again."

"I don't think you understand what's at stake, Daemon," she bit out.

"No, you don't understand what's at stake!" His hands gripped his chair so hard his knuckles were turning white. "Why war, Y/N? You will die!"

The intensity of his gaze burned her, but she stood her ground. She was a Stark, and Starks did not cower.

"I will die anyway if I'm dragged into another one of your royal conflicts." She gripped her chair as well, leaning forward with the same rage burning in her chest.

"What are you talking about?" he questioned, exasperated. "The realm has been in peace for decades!"

She stood up suddenly, agitated, and walked towards the fireplace, the heat radiating from it making her blush.

They both needed a pause to cool off their tempers.

"What about Viserys' succession? I hear the lords are going restless as he fathers no boys. And your reputation doesn't help you being his heir," she hissed.

"Is this what this is about?" he sneered. "You fear being dragged to war when my brother dies because the realm won't accept me as their King?"

"That's part of it," she admitted, turning to look at him, her grey eyes cold as they fixed on his. A moment passed before he stood up as well, standing behind her as she stared into the fire.

"There will only be war if you force it, Y/N, and you will die along with your people, your wolves, your family..."

Even as he threatened her, he took her hair in his hands with great care. Longer than he remembered it, but just as wild. She never bothered braiding it.

"You underestimate me," she said, lowering her voice. There was no need to yell anymore. As they stood by the fire, the conversation felt intimate. Even if the matter of discussion was unpleasant.

"We have dragons," he answered, curling a strand of her hair around his finger and letting it slip away. "The blood of Old Valyria runs through our veins. How do you think we became your kings in the first place?"

His hands wandered to her waist, where they settled, as he leaned forward and rested his chin on her shoulder, looking into the fire as well.

"We are dragonlords. Fire will consume a regular man, but not us. Your ancestor bent the knee to Aegon the Conqueror. Your father swore an oath to my brother. Starks aren't known for being oathbreakers."

"Strangers in a strange land is what you are," she mused. "My House can be traced back eight thousand years, to the First Men. We have always been here. This is our land."

She could feel Daemon's grip around her waist loosening, and she placed his hands on top of his, silently asking him not to leave her.

"But you're right, we're not oathbreakers, even if Torrhen Stark made a mistake, we've upheld our vows all these years," she continued. "The problem is... rules change when winter comes. In winter, we must protect each other. And that mandate is above anything else. Even our loyalty to the Iron Throne. It is not power I wish for, it is to be excluded from southern conflicts. And that is not possible if I'm Lady of Winterfell."

She turned around, cupping his face in her hands.

"My dragon," she whispered, tears in her eyes, maybe caused by the intense heat of the fireplace, maybe because she did not wish for this to happen. "I cannot turn my back on my people. Winter is coming. And war is coming in the South, I know it. We cannot be part of it."

"You don't know that," he whispered back, clutching her wrists and pushing her away, refusing her touch. "You would force me to kill you because your lords wish for their independence. They are using you, filling your mind with baseless fear."

"Winter is coming and it is not a lie," she stated, knowing he was aware of it. "Only a fool would not fear winter. Or a son of summer, who has only known the sun and its warmth, and winters so short they are barely cold autumns. This is real winter we are facing."

She broke free from his grip and moved closer to him, their chests almost touching as she looked up at him.

"If I must die, I apologize if it has to be by your hand," she said. "I will not stand down, Daemon. We do not have to fight your wars."

"You say you are trying to avoid war yet you're dooming all your people to die by dragonfire because you refuse to back away from one."

"Haven't you heard? Some Northerners have to die when winter comes, or all of us do."

"I have read about the frozen castles, the men riding direwolves north of The Wall, the food that runs out. It seems rather fantastical."

"So do dragons, yet here you are."

"Yet here I am," he agreed. "I am not a patient man, Y/N. If this is your answer, I will take it to my brother, and I will come back with more dragons to kill you and the rest of the traitors that follow your lead."

"If this is yours, I will wait for you with our army. You might be a dragon, but you forget I am a wolf. My blood runs as thick as yours, Daemon," she defied. "We do not belong as part of the Seven Kingdoms. We never did. We do not share their customs, blood, or gods."

He stared at her, the same way he often did to men when he wanted them to submit, but she did not waver. Wolf's blood.

"Do the direwolves obey you?" he asked, changing the subject.

"They do not," she answered simply. "They cannot be tamed. But they are powerful beasts and they will fight by our side."

"Can the wolves fly? Can they spit fire? Because even with a thousand wolves you cannot hope to fight our dragons."

She smiled sadly, walking towards one of the corners of the room, where a jug of wine and two cups waited on a table.

"Of course we can." She spoke as she served both cups and brought one to Daemon. He accepted it, drinking without taking his eyes off her. "We've studied the Dornish. Dragons can die. And they will."

"Do not get cocky, Y/N," he said, brows furrowed. "It is not wise."

"Riding dragons up north in winter is not wise, yet is it what you promise me. Do not bring them here. They do not belong."

"Dragons can resist low temperatures," he contested.

"Can you?" she asked, an eyebrow raised, as she sipped her wine.

"Are you daring me to bring war to your doors? Do you even hear yourself?"

"I am asking you to reconsider. You can come here with ten dragons and thirty thousand men for all I care," she stated. "You would be out of your element. You would die. We would kill some of you, you would kill some of us, and then winter would kill us all."

"Treason is not forgivable, Y/N. There will be no negotiations. You either submit or you die. Are you sure of this?"

His question was genuine, it was clear in his eyes.

"Just give my message to Viserys," she answered.

Daemon waited a few seconds and then nodded.

"If you were anyone else, I would have your head now."

She ran a hand through his silver hair.

"I know." Her smile as she looked at him was tinted with sorrow. He looked at her too, understanding, as his heart grieved as well.

"I will leave for King's Landing as soon as the sun rises," he said. "And when I return, nothing will be the same again. Do you understand that?"

"It is the hour of ghosts," she whispered. "Dine with me one last time. Share my bed. Do not hurry. It is our last night together. Let it belong to us."

He finished his cup of wine and threw it into the fire.

"Forget about dinner." He took her cup as well and did the same with it. "Until dawn arrives, we belong to each other. Together. As we were always meant to be."

He grasped her chin, his thumb pressing on her bottom lip.

"I do not wish to waste a single minute of it," he whispered.

Their lips clashed together in an instant, hungry, desperate. She arched her back, pressing her body against his, as his hands blindly and shakily tried to undo the laces that tied her dress. She bit on his bottom lip, making his breath hitch, asking him for more as she clung to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He kissed her forcefully, sliding his tongue against hers, letting themselves get lost in each other. His hands still tried to unlace the back of her dress, as he had done so many times before but now the anxiousness to get rid of it didn't let him. She wasn't doing any better as she tugged on his doublet, frustrated when it wouldn't budge, and broke away from the kiss to pull on the small silver chains that held it together, snapping them off one by one. Still agitated, Daemon reached behind him and pulled a dagger. She was so focused on undressing him she didn't notice until he pressed the blade against her skin, between her breasts, and slid it down, swiftly cutting the fabric of her dress.

"Daemon!" she complained, feeling the warmth of the fireplace on her bare breasts. But he just gave her a mischievous look and knelt in front of her, finishing cutting her out of her dress. It fell and pooled around her, leaving her completely naked.

His eyes didn't leave her as he got rid of his also ruined doublet, placing his sword on the floor.

"It would have taken too long," he breathed out, baring his torso.

He lifted a brow, inviting her to join.

In a haze, she knelt down next to him and pressed her lips against his, licking them until he opened his mouth and let her kiss him, moist, dirty, delirious. When he finished undressing his hands found her back and without breaking the kiss he made her lean until her back was on the floor, the rug soft under her body. They parted for just a moment to look at each other, trying to force themselves to burn this into their memory, to never forget.

With her pupils so dilated her eyes were dark, she dug her nails into his lower back, trying to get him to fuck her. To love her.

"Daemon," she moaned, her lips parting as she gasped for breath, hooking a leg around his hips. "Please."

He didn't need anything else, his eyes never leaving hers as he slid into her slowly, making her feel drunk when he was finally buried deep inside her, right where he belonged. She closed her eyes for just a moment but Daemon's sudden grip on her thigh made her open them again.

"Look at me," he whispered. She did as he said and his hand loosened his grip to stroke her thigh, as he slowly slid out of her and in again, setting a slow pace, burying himself deep inside her. Their eyes were connected with lust, longing, and something else neither would ever admit.

Y/N's hands splayed across his chest and she ran them all over his body, feeling his warm skin, his muscles, his scars. Remembering every part of him as if she had never left. He brushed his lips against hers, making her arch her neck up to kiss him, but he denied her, burying his head in her shoulder instead. She could feel his heavy breathing against her skin as she crossed her legs behind his hips, guiding his movements, guiding him back inside her.

She ran her hands through his hair, undoing his braid, letting it free. She felt one of his hands touching her breasts, slowly, his finger circling around one of her nipples, leaving trails of fire on her skin. Time slowed down as he moved to suck on her nipple, making it even harder than it was, making the heat inside her unbearable. She cried out as she grabbed him by his hair and forced him to look at her.

"Kiss me," she begged, the feeling of him sinking into her over and over again almost sending her over the edge.

He did as she asked, engulfing her in a long, passionate kiss. And when they parted, a string of saliva still connecting them, they gazed into each other's eyes, telling each other what their words couldn't say.

"Y/N..." he breathed out, and she knew what he meant.

"Do it," she whispered, running her hands through his hair. "You know, Daemon. I know as well."

"I need you to say it," he insisted, looking at her deeply. "For both of us."

"I am yours..." she said, cupping the side of his face. "As you are mine."

He changed his pace then, slamming his hips into hers and hitting that sweet spot every single time, driving both of them over the edge. As he started losing his rhythm, he leaned down and kissed her desperately. She kissed him back, dissolving into pleasure as she clenched around him and felt him slowly stop moving, spilling deep inside her.

They kissed until they ran out of breath and Daemon rolled to his side, holding her body to follow his.

They lay in front of the fireplace, lost in each other's eyes, their bodies still intertwined.

They would be strangers in a few hours, but for now, they were still allowed to love.

Next part.

Tagging: @batprincess1013 @lollaa-puff @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mamamooqa @queenmendes @chevelledahuman @thanyatargaryen @zgzgzh @boofy1998 @lovelokiqueen @kmhappybunny240 @dudde-44 @dankfarrikdin @gothicgay14 @ilovemarauders @ilovemydinoboi @asgardiandeadpoetsociety @how2besalty @kaitieskidmore1 @thhriller @omgsuperstarg @missyviolet123 @booksnink13

TAG LIST CLOSED. If you asked to be tagged and you are not here, it's because tumblr wouldn't let me tag you. Sorry. I'll use the tag #queenoficeprinceoffire so you can follow anyway.

#daemon targaryen imagine #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon imagine #hotd x reader #queenoficeprinceoffire

[daenerystargaryen06]

I saw a comment on another post about how fans of Daenerys (and those who also support TB) cannot accept criticism of Daenerys' character and go overboard with our love for her.

This statement is entirely false. Daenerys fans do entirely accept Daenerys' flaws and criticism to her character- so long as the criticism is done properly and makes sense. We only go against criticism when said criticism entirely misconstrues Daenerys' character in a false and gross way. Bending the text of the books or even early seasons of the show as an excuse to "criticize" Daenerys is obviously going to be ignored because it presents an entirely false narrative. The ones who do this mainly are Daenerys antis/Sansa stans/Jonsa stans. Most critical points/metas they make against her can be disproven (and have been many times) by reading the text of the books and analyzing Daenerys' show scenes early season before her character became entirely ruined by s8.

Daenerys fans do accept criticism of Daenerys and we do acknowledge her flaws. But the difference is that those who do criticize her often tend to paint her out to be 'evil' or the main villain for ASOIAF/GoT, when she isn't. Daenerys, like every other character in the ASOIAF series, is a gray character. Us fans see and know this. But Daenerys antis only look at her through a lens of black-and-white, which is an issue of itself, considering she isn't meant to be viewed that way. The reason why us Dany fans/stans go against criticism of Dany so much is because it's often wrong and entirely out of proportion, in which we make counter points/arguments backed up with actual textual evidence from the books or scenes from the show. The criticism against Daenerys isn't just critically analyzing her as a character, it's blatant hate and often misconstrued to paint her in a light that makes her seem worse than she is.

When we look in the world and setting of ASOIAF/GoT, Daenerys' actions are just like any other character in that world, only not as extreme, and when she makes the decisions she does within the books she questions the choices she's made and thinks heavily over them.

When you look at the men of ASOIAF and GoT, their actions are in line with/far worse than what Daenerys has done. Tywin has eradicated an entire house, slaughtered countless people, treated his son with disdain for being born a dwarf, etc. Robb executed a man for going against his orders. Jon killed a child (despite the child having taken part in his murder- it was still a child) and is much darker in the books. Tyrion has fantasies of violence towards Cersei, expects Sansa (a child) to want him when they're wed, etc. Robert nearly slaughtered and eradicated an entire House, laughed over dead bodies of children, r*ped Cersei often when drunk, etc. Ned executed a deserter of the Night's Watch. And we all know how terrible Euron and Ramsay are in the books/show.

And yet Daenerys receives more hate than these men over her actions, is viewed more critically, and is 'criticized' far more than said men. Which is unfortunately driven by misogyny. The difference between Daenerys and the men of ASOIAF is the fact that she is a woman. If she were a man, I doubt her actions would be so heavily analyzed and torn into by antis. Anyone could say that isn't true- and yet, it's evident in the way Daenerys is heavily hated and discussed most over compared to anyone else who has done far worse compared to her.

It's not the fact that we don't accept criticism over Daenerys. It's the fact that us fans have to always constantly defend her over hate that is unjustified to her character. Is it even so wrong that we show love and support to her character anyway? I'm sure everyone else does that for their own favorite characters as well and deny criticism to them often if the criticism is actual bullshit over a valid critical and neutral analysis. Why is it so wrong for us fans to do so?

A blog I will always recommend that actually does amazing metas character analysis- @rainhadaenerys.

#daenerys defence squad #daenerys stormborn #daenerys targaryen #daenerys targeryan #daenerys appreciation #mother of dragons #pro daenerys targaryen #breaker of chains #khaleesi #team daenerys #queen daenerys #anti daenerys antis #yes you can have criticism for a character #but when it's misconstrued and the text is used in a false manner- is it really even valid? #this is the same as people who say they like Daenerys but then say she's gonna be a villain and go crazy #bffr #a song of ice and fire #asoif/got

[prince-liest]

Hey, since you've written a lot of Alastor-centric fics that explore him having complex relationships with other characters, I was wondering if you had any wip about Alastor & Husk, or just any hcs about them in general!! I find it interesting that Husk is the only one who knows about his deal...

And yes the fact that Alastor owns Husk' soul is pretty bad for any development in their relationship lol. But it also adds flavor to their dynamic! (and Alastor hasn't been THAT abusive with him so far in regards to their contract? He made a death threat but he didn't need to own Husk' soul to do that. He forces him to work at the hotel but Husk used to use the souls he owned like pawns he could gamble away, treating people like property he could afford to lose to other "masters", so he's not worse that Husk in comparison... That's an insanely low bar, I know)

Current WIPS, no, headcanons, yes!

I think their relationship is very interesting, and a lot of that specifically comes from Husk's side of things. I'm honestly fully putting aside the issue of how abusive Alastor has or hasn't been to him, because in the end, slavery is slavery (assuming that's the power that Husk's contract grants) even if one overlord isn't as sadistic as another (Husk himself included), BUT:

I think it's very interesting that Husk and Alastor clearly have a long-term working relationship that includes Husk giving at least half of a shit about Alastor. Their interaction during Mimzy's episode is not very long but I think it is very telling. Obviously it's telling about Alastor's intolerance toward his power and position being questioned, and it's also telling about how much Alastor has been undermined that even someone who knows him like Husk is expressing doubt... but I think its also particularly telling that it includes Husk reaching out to watch Alastor's back (before Alastor bites his head off for it).

I think it's hard to say exactly why he does it - how much of it is because he knows that Alastor getting in trouble also means Husk getting in trouble, how much of it is because Husk is growing to care about the hotel, especially after his episode with Angel, and how much of it is because he's grown attached to Alastor in a weird way over the years, but I personally like to think it's a combination of all three.

Husk was a powerful overlord and I think that's very in line with his portrayal of being someone who distances himself from people in callous ways... but ends up caring more than he intends to when he does get close to them. We most clearly see this with Angel Dust, but I think it's also reflected in his callousness as an overlord and how it turned into regret once he lost his soul to Alastor, and also how he occasionally reacts to the people he's known a long time: namely, Alastor (during the Mimzy episode) and Niffty (when she gets drunk at the club)!

I think Alastor and Husk's lives have been intertwined for a long time, and I also think that it's hard not to grow to care about another person on some level as a result, even if you also heavily resent them, especially if their well-being is your well-being. I don't think Husk likes Alastor very much (it would be hard to in his position) but I don't think he sees Alastor's ownership of his soul as having taken advantage of him so much as a natural consequences of the games he himself played with people's souls, which lets him sit in a position that to him feels less like "victim" and more like "beleaguered subordinate."

And Alastor also does put some effort into keeping things with Husk copacetic. He loses his cool and snaps at him during their confrontation, but outside of that context the attitude he maintains seems to include both being a smarmy jackass and giving Husk actual reasons to work for him other than "or else." It's technically not canon to the show, but I personally consider his bribing of Husk with drink to work for the hotel in the pilot to be canon to my interpretations, at least. It makes sense to me that Alastor wants to maintain a decent working relationship, as opposed to one where Husk would be more inclined to actively sell him out for a dime rather than marinate in his own resignation.

Anyway. Long post! But I think they're interesting, haha.

#ask #personal #Anonymous #hazbin hotel #husk #alastor #long post #meta #my writing

[theweeklydiscourse]

Alina is unable to confront her anti-Grisha bias

So there’s an interesting line I came across while reading Shadow and Bone. At first, it seemed insignificant but for some reason I felt the urge to investigate why it had caught my eye. The line in question is the last line in the passage below. It stuck out to me because I feel it is an example of Alina’s self-centered attitude as well as her lack of awareness regarding the position she’s in.

The Darkling opens by trying to explain, but Alina dismisses his words entirely and accuses him of pretending to care about the greater good of the country. While this is understandable on Alina’s part considering she has received shocking news paired with Bahghra’s manipulative framing of the truth, this scene reads as Aleksander trying to reason with a brick wall. Alina says “Don’t pretend this is about Ravka’s welfare. You lied to me.” But I have to ask: what on earth do those subjects have to do with each other? As if him lying automatically means that he must have been up to something. But the connection Alina makes in this quote demonstrates her tendency to fall back on her prejudice in order to avoid confronting the larger issue.

I believe what Alina means to say is “Don’t lie and pretend this is about Ravka’s welfare, if it were truly about Ravka’s welfare you wouldn’t have had to lie to me for months.” However, the irony of her statement is that Alina seems to be under the impression that had the Darkling just told her the truth, she would’ve had a more favourable reaction to the coup. But based on her previous responses to the mere suggestion of treason, it becomes clear that Alina falsely assumes that she is trustworthy enough to handle that kind of information. But she believes that because she still cannot reconcile her anti-Grisha prejudice with her new Grisha identity.

The Darkling puts it very plainly why he couldn’t tell her. The future of Ravka, the future of GRISHA depended on his plan going forward without a hitch. There is so much that could go wrong with the coup, and when they’re being attacked on all fronts, The Darkling would have to be extremely foolish to risk everything on the feelings of a girl he’s only known for a few months. The fact that Alina never reflects on this conversation is so baffling to me, but I imagine the reason for that is because doing so would require her to delve deeper into the plight of Grisha.

Alina cannot take a single second to look outside of herself and consider why the Darkling hesitated to trust her with such a huge secret. She focuses solely on how his deception affected her and makes the issue about her own feelings instead of considering the large-scale implications of what this coup would mean for Grisha.

This passage is one of my favourites, because it really captures the way the Darkling’s patience slips away as Alina continues to childishly deny her culpability in this conflict. He calls her out so succinctly in this moment, that she acted recklessly and thoughtlessly because of her underlying fear of her own identity. It only took Baghra a few accusations because it was the excuse Alina had been waiting for since the beginning. Baghra took advantage of Alina’s prejudice and doubt, validating what she had secretly felt all along. That Alina was afraid of her powers, that she believed that the Darkling was evil, that she wasn’t responsible for the future of the country.

For once, we get a glimpse of the true extent of his frustration and hint of resentment towards Alina. Here is a girl who has the kind of influence that could change the fate of Grisha and rescue them from the exploitation and prejudice they are subjected to. A girl who has everything he ever needed to get his plan through the door, yet refuses to move because of her one-sided dependency on some guy and her crippling fear of being an adult. Alina is literally worshipped by the common folk and Grisha alike, she inspires awe and respect in others by virtue of being born a sun summoner and yet she cannot see past her own self interest. She childishly complains that she never had a choice and that it isn’t fair, falling back into a childlike helplessness and oblivious to her immense power. She refuses to take responsibility which is exactly what sends the Darkling over the edge.

While I know that much of Alina’s reaction to the “Darkling Disney twist villain reveal” is coloured by her fear and insecurity in her new role, this frustrates me so much because it never culminates in anything meaningful for her character. It’s no coincidence that the Netflix show decided to omit this conversation completely, because it presents a character conflict that actually challenges the viewer’s perception of the conflict. The Darkling actually makes a ton of sense in his reasoning and it’s so good that they had to remove it to turn him into a cardboard shadow man that could be killed off in a #girlboss #girlpower moment.

#shadow and bone #lb critical #s&b critical #alina starkov #the darkling #s&b netflix #s&b salt #darklina #aleksander morovoza #anti leigh bardugo #anti baghra #baghra morozova #grishaverse meta #the grisha trilogy #pro darkling #shadow and bone season 2 #aleksander morozova #grishaverse

[applecidersstuff]

How about we talk about the whole “Metatron, the voice of the god” thing?

 Because it’s a bit weird to me. Like no one in Heaven ever questions the fact that only Metatron can talk to the Almighty. To be honest for me it looks like he doesn’t even talk to them anymore; I mean, maybe he did it before, but now it seems like he just pretends to do it.

For example - the first scene of the second season - Crowley creating the universe. 

You know, when you’re making a prototype, you’re usually informed about it; I mean, it’s not like you finish a phone, and then someone goes, “Hey, it was actually a prototype, so now I need you to smash it.” 

When Azira comes to Crowley and tells him that the universe will be destroyed in 6000 years, he seems surprised, and it feels like he was told something different. He also mentions that he worked very closely with the original creator, who’s supposed to be God. And Crowley is absolutely sure that he can ask a couple questions and maybe even suggest something. 

I highly believe that the Almighty themselves ordered Crowley to create the universe, but then Metatron told Azira about Armageddon. But it wasn’t an order from God but something Metatron wanted. He just masked it to sound like Her order. And when Crowley started doubting what Azira told him, he became a threat to Metatron. In the last ep, Metatron says that Crowley asked too many questions, so what if it wasn’t God who threw Crowley out of Heaven, but Metatron?

And if you’re saying, “God wanted Armageddon, they didn’t do anything to stop it!” you’re wrong. If they really wanted Earth to end, they wouldn’t allow Adam to go to the wrong family. And they would punish Crowley and Aziraphale. Which they didn’t do; Heaven and Hell did, but not God. In fact, they sounded way happier that Armageddon didn’t happen at all.

In the book, there is Metatron in the scene with Adam and the horsemen instead of Gabriel. And when Crowley and Angel start to argue with him and Beelzebub, there is a line that says, “said Metatron, but in a worried tone of voice.” While Beelzebub was angry in the book, and both them and Gabriel were annoyed in the show, Metatron was worried. And it wasn’t the type of worry that ineffable bureaucracy had; they were concerned about sending their sides back to work. But Metatron sounded more like he wanted everyone to forget what Crowley and Azira said.

Crowley’s reaction to God talking to Job is also weird. 

When Job talks to God, Crowley seems surprised. He says ‘’but just to be able to ask a question’’. Which is weird considering that it was God, as we’re told, that threw him down for questions. 

Crowley was downcasted from Heaven, basically, for annoying God, not for plotting something or joining Satan’s friend group, but for asking too many questions. And now we know that those questions were about a project he and Saraqael were working on alongside God, not with Metatron, not Gabriel, but the Almighty Herself. Also, what Crowley suggests, putting Earth in the middle is reasonable. But that’s not the point now.

 So according to that our ‘thin dark duke’ wasn’t supposed to be surprised by God talking, it could’ve been Aziraphale, but not Crowley. 

That flashback in fact is really important for the storyline and especially for Crowley’s backstory, she has many suspicious lines, like “the same god that wants me to kill children?” which kinda implies that the actual God doesn’t want to kill them but someone who’s pretending to be god is, or, again, the whole dialogue with Aziraphale while god talks. He also stops Sitith from cursing God, while he as a demon shouldn’t have any problems with that, so maybe he didn’t want her to curse not Almighty but Metatron.

 

Then we have - Saraqael. They are the only character confirmed to have known pre-fall Crowley and known to work with them. (Aziraphale doesn’t count due to him meeting Crowley shortly before his fall and Crowley not even introducing herself.)

 But Saraqael is interesting to me also because they’re the only archangel that we see with a disability(I don’t have any problems with the character or actress being disabled; I love that we have representation.); demons have plenty; angels, on the other hand, mostly appear as perfect creatures. But not Saraqael, and them being disabled looks much more interesting once we learn that they’re an archangel who worked with Crowley.

We know that angels didn’t want to send Gabriel to hell because that may have created wrong thoughts among angels. Considering that Saraqael worked on the universe just like Crowley, they would most likely have the same questions as him, but they’re still an angel and haven’t changed their status.

Also, their name is mentioned two or three times and they aren’t treated like an archangel, the way Michael and Uriel talk, or rather they don’t talk, about them really reminds me of the way they talk about Jim. And Gabriel can’t remember their name, although he didn’t have that problem with Sandalfon or Aziraphale, but he has one with his actual colleague? Both Sandalfon and Aziraphale are not archangels, yes they have a high rank but it still doesn’t make them archangels. 

 Then again, not only do they not tell Michael or Uriel about Crowley, but they tell Muriel to show him the trial.  Why would an angel, especially a high-ranking angel, cover for a demon who’s looking through very important files? 

And while Metatron and Crowley have one interaction, things Metabitch says after Crowley leaves are also suspicious in a weird way; while Angel is crushed he tells him that he never really needed Crowley, and then he says “he was always asking damn fool questions” Like, how would you know?? he was talking to God not you. 

So my idea is - Metatron isn’t talking to God anymore. I also think that Metatron tried to get rid of God(don’t ask me how I don’t know) and God, knowing damn well about it, ordered Crowley and Saraqael to create the universe, then they created humans so she could hide among them (“And God created man in their own image, in the image of God created they him; male and female created she them.” Genesis 1:27) and ran to earth. They are hiding on earth and waiting for the right moment to come out. 

#i think some things are repeated. sorry for that #any corrections or adds are welcomed. but not in the aggressive way #god lives on earth (good omens theory) #good omens analysis #god good omens #good omens fanwork #good omens angels #good omens demons #good omens discussion #good omens tv #good omens theory #good omens thoughts #good omens text post #good omens 2 #good omens 3 #renew good omens #good omens crowley #anthony j crowley #crowley #pre fall crowley #metatron #metabitch #good omens Metatron #saraqael #saraquel #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 #good omens s2 #good omens season two #good omens season three