#Best Loyalty Points Program

[pointsplus]

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[retailpos]

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[bitterbeetle]

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[devildomwriter]

Why Lucifer is A Good Brother

*Somewhat chronologically in order everything is canon and if you want the reference I’ll give it to you*

*Heavy spoilers*

All angels consider each other siblings but out of the millions, possibly billions of angels. Lucifer chose to take five brothers and a sister (originally) under his wing.

He gave Mammon a challenge to become his apprentice and when he succeeded he welcomed Mammon with open arms and never rejected him afterwards even with all the trouble he caused.

He gave Asmodeus the nickname “Jewel of the Heavens” something he still loves to this day even as a demon.

He made Levi feel seen and useful even after the peace treaty between realms made his position obsolete.

He bonded with Beelzebub who was originally his guard and took him and his twin under his wings. He also introduced Lilith to the twins who became inseparable.

When Lilith fell in love he visited the Human World to see if this man was good and kind.

When Lilith broke a Celestial Law this man WENT TO WAR WITH AN ENTIRE REALM and GOD to save her. He asked his brothers to side with him and carried guilt for doing so after the war.

After the war, he pledged eternal loyalty to the man in control of the realm he was at war with for most of his existence all to save his sister despite the humiliation. He saved her even though she wouldn’t remember him and he could never see her again and he carried the burden for thousands of years until MC’s ancestry was revealed.

The Devildom and Celestial Realm hold very strict laws so he took whatever means necessary punishment-wise to correct their behavior. In the Celestial Realm, it was so his brothers weren’t outcast and in the Devildom it was so they weren’t imprisoned or killed.

His brothers believe he’s more loyal to Diavolo than to them but he does this FOR them.

When the brothers struggled with becoming demons he was there to comfort them.

When he accidentally created Satan he took full responsibility for the absolute murderous maniac and did his best to raise the personification of hatred.

He cared about Satan so much that when the brothers were offered the chance to return to the Celestial Realm, the realm he once ruled, he told them to return and he alone would stay with Satan so he wouldn’t be alone. Even though this decision meant he wouldn’t be able to see his brothers and they’d be seen as enemies, he wanted what he believed was best for them and what they wanted.

Lucifer did everything he could to master new demon magic, insert himself into Devildom politics, and befriend his enemies all for his brothers’ sakes to give them the same position of respect they had in the Celestial Realm.

In Nightbringer when he was incarcerated in Cocytus the fact his brothers were being held too enraged him to the point he broke free and even fought Diavolo believing he had something to do with it. And when Raphael cried having to sentence him, Lucifer wasn’t angry he felt sorry for Raphael—a former brother.

Lucifer continuously fights those many times stronger than him all for his family’s sake.

Even though it pained him to see his former angelic brothers for the exchange program he remained cordial even though it was at first awkward and a reminder of all the pain of the past. He did this for his former brothers.

When Belphegor threatened treason and war, he lied to the ruler of the Devildom and hid Belphegor away to PROTECT him.

He lashed out at Mc and nearly killed them because he saw them as a threat to his brothers. First when Luke held the Grimoire that could control them and MC got in the way; then threatened them because they were making pacts with all his brothers; then why they betrayed him and found Belphegor because this could reach Diavolo and Belphegor would be punished for treason. In Nightbringer he originally remained suspicious and cold because MC could control his brothers without a pact and then had the grimoire which could control them. Lucifer only attacked MC when he was being protective of his brothers.

When Lucifer had amnesia he immediately bonded with his brothers again and revealed many things he’d done secretly to help them like pulling strings to get Mammon the car he worked so hard for.

He was even willing to sacrifice himself to let MC live who became family (or romantic interest—up to you) and his final ask was that they take care of his brothers.

Lucifer’s methods seem strict, unforgiving, and cruel but remember this is HELL, the DEVILDOM. Law only recently was created and Diavolo may be forgiving but who’s to say his father or descendants would be just as lenient? If his brothers don’t behave it could mean the worst and he refuses to lose another family member.

[xan-izme]

"Bad Guy" (Dad!jake x Villian Daughter reader)

Summary: Jake didn't just leave you on a rotting planet, he did so much more. He barely showed his fatherly side to you, he was on Marin mode 24/7. The night before he left was what pushed you to the edge, after years of him not returning, was your braking point. He left you, his own daughter and betrayed his own race. If he can do that, what's wrong with leaving behind your own humanity?

TW: Death, mentions of death, child neglect, drinking, manipulation ect.

tag list: @kkkmm @myh3artttt

How far can you push a child's love and loyalty. Till they no longer can tell the difference between the two?

Raising children is known to be a very complicated task. But it was a part of life. Parenting is tricky, anything you do or say will affect your child's behavior.

Jake didn't think like that. You were his first child, a girl at that. Your mother was just a one night stand, but he did know her. She was a friend from before he lost his legs.

When you were born, he was already in a bad spot. So a child being dumbed on him in his situation wasn't the best.

So, when raising you, he tried his best to show you that the planet they were on was cruel, and that you need to fend for yourself sometimes. He might have been harsh with his words, but you had some sort of understanding that it wasn't out of meanness. Jake was strict. Set up curfews, schedule for all classes and hang outs. Knowledge of your whereabouts was a must.

But all of that understanding and balance you two had, was quick to shatter. The night before Jake was to leave for Pandora, he was drinking. Yes, Jake drinks a lot, and you know that.

But his twin brother just passed, for the paper he had in his pocket. Sadly, you came back home 15 minutes late.

So, when you tried to get Jake to bed, he was just complaining about you coming late.

Jake was grumbling something while you were trying to clean up the bottles that were laying around.

He complained about the military, about his parents, the people and his twin.

"And you, Y/n"

You stood in place, watching your father point at you, bottle of alcohol in hand. "You killed your mother . . . and now, you're killing me."

Those words hit you like nothing before.

Jake threw the bottle towards you, it missed, but you wish it did hit you and just killed you.

The next morning, you locked yourself in your room. You refused to open the door. No matter how many times' Jake apologized, no matter how hard he begged.

His words of promises to come back and make it up to you, were probably the only thing that made you feel some type of sympathy. And hey, if he did come back, the two of you might have had a decent father and daughter relationship.

You just had to wait for 6 years or so.

Then 6 years turned into 8. 8 years turned into a decade. Then you got word of what Jake had done.

Betrayed his own race, fell in love with a native and started a whole new family. And on top of that! he got legs! isn't that lovely, good for him. And all Jake had to do was leave his pathetic, no-good daughter on a rotting planet to get the life of his dreams.

The amount of anger you felt could not be explained. Wanting to take revenge, wanting your old man to feel unexplainable pain you had been suffering. You applied for a spot in the RDA. Specifically, in the Daja blue group.

It took a lot of training and strings pulled for you to get in that program. But you got in, and once you showed your skills, you were immediately welcomed in.

"Ms. Sully-"

You held back the urge to give the operator a look, not liking being called but his name. But his name is a part of your plan. You want people to know that you're his, that you came from the same Jake Sully.

"Your Avitar is ready."

You hummed and followed the woman. You two passed many other avatars. Then finally came to a stop at one that oddly looked like you. You stared down at the young body.

You were currently in your mid 20's, but avatars are made to be way younger than you currently were. This one looks about 18 or 19. You didn't mind. As long as the body was capable of handling her plan for Jake.

You must say, Pandora was more beautiful than you expected. Such beauty shouldn't have been wasted on Jake. You honestly didn't care for Quaritche's reasons or his mission in general, all you wanted was to install fear and dread into Jake.

Thankfully, Quaritche seemed to not mind what your little mission was. The only thing you two had in common, was to put Jake down. Break him in unimaginable ways.

"Your one of his" Quaritche mumbled. But you heard what he said. Your ears perked as you slowly made your way to the small Na'vi boy. Now seeing by his fingers and looking closely at his face, he held a close resemblance to Jake, that caused you to stare rather hard.

You kneeled down and looked your half-brother in the eyes. You then heard a voice, a voice that you could never forget. You grabbed the innercom that was still connected to the boy's neck and tossed it to Quaritche. As the older man spoke to Jake, you grabbed your half-brothers face, examining it.

The boy growls and roughly moved his face out of your hand.

"Let us go you demons!" The boy hissed in his native tongue. You scoffed in amusement and took hold of his hand, roughly putting it in front of his face, then put your hand against his. Matching all five fingers.

"We are more similar than you think boy." Your words shocked the boy. Leaving him silent and confused.

You turned to go back to your original position, giving a glance to Jake's daughters. You glared at the smallest one.

When Jake brought the fight to them. Quaritche let you have a little time alone with Jake.

Your tail swished from side to side before pouching on Jake. Your fighting style was sloppy, but in a way that was nearly always unpredictable. Almost like you were some kind of; savage.

Jake threw you off him, causing you to land on all fours against a nearby tree. You hissed as you stood up slowly, your tail flickering side to side, your eyes had never left him.

"So mean papa. That really hurt" You licked the blood from your lips as you gave the man a toothy grin.

Jake frowns, that voice, was for some reason familiar to him. His eyes squinted as the figure stepped closer into the moonlight. Once you were in the light, it took him a second, but even in Na'vi form. He recognizes his own daughter.

"Y/n . . . ?"

Jake dropped his weapons as he slowly approached you.

"Y/n, my baby! how-" His hands hovered over your skin, before you stepped away.

The two of you stared at each other, in compleate silence. Suddenly, the sound of a helecopter came. You sighed

"Oh well, guess our time is up." You say in a disappointing tone, you turned to walk off and get back to the group.

"Next time, I won't go easy on ya!" You say with a playful tone, but the noticeable sadistic look you had said otherwise.

Chaos unlashed itself upon the Sully family. The children of Jake demanding to know more about the Avitar woman who claimed to also be a Sully. That night, Jake and Neytiri had to explain that Jake had a daughter back on earth, and the moment he betrayed his own race, he lost privileges of trying to bring his daughter to Pandora or at least try and contact her.

Jake thought about you every day, every second. Every time he treated his sons like soldiers, he was reminded of you, and what he had said that fitful night.

Lo'ak laid awake that night. Your words spinning in his mind. That small talk of how his father truly was. How Jake treated her worse than he was with them now. Lo'ak can barely tolerate how their father is now, so just thinking about how strict or harsh he was with you. He understood you were probably hurt, but he thought of some way to make you see what Lo'ak saw when Jake spoke about you. How much love he had with each word for you, speaking about you like he would for any of his children.

When Jake first saw you again, it was like a dream come true, but now, he feels like he sees you everywhere. You're becoming a nightmare for him, all because of that first interaction you two had, if you knew of this, you would be laughing at how pathetic Jake was to easily be this way.

Even though Neytiri saw you as a traitor and a threat to her family, Jake still saw you as his little girl. His sweet baby girl that he left. The little girl he had the nerve to treat like a soldier. Guess this was Jake's harsh reminder that he was raising a daughter back then.

The Jake now can never imagine treating Kiri and Tuk the way he did with you, it hurts him.

You didn't want to hurt anyone but Jake. That doesn't mean you care for the life around you, no, if killing the ones Jake loved the most would drive Jake to the breaking point like you wished? you would have done that long ago.

You kneeled down to Lo'ak and made sure he was tied properly.

"Why are you doing this! aren't you, our sister??" Lo'ak was trying to reason with you. Trying to make you see what you were doing was wrong. You sighed and gave him a small smile while caressing his head.

"Oh, sweet little brother. You are too young to understand."

"I wan't daddy . . ." Tuk mumbled out a small whine. You shifted your eyes to her.

You stepped back and examined the two. "you two think our father is such a hero. A noble man who loves his family more than anything. But your wrong, the moment you slip up, he turns on you. . . . Did you know what he said to me before he left?"

Lo'ak and Tuk stayed silent as they kept their eyes on you.

"He said that all I had to do was wait for 6 years, then he'll be back, and make up for what he had done to me. Then 6 years turn into 8, then it turned into a decade. . . . It took 10 years for me to realize I didn't need him. And that he didn't want me." You never told your small sob story to anyone, and you surprisingly didn't feel that shitty about what your life had become.

"Your wrong."

Lo'aks words brought you back. You tilt your head a little.

"Oh?"

"Dad loves you! He told us what happened and he's sorry. He regrets everything and all he wants is you to be with him again! h-he loves you and always did." You hum in amusement

"He loves me . . . . How interesting."

Your plan just changed, and in the best way possible.

Jake didn't mean too. He didn't mean to shout at you that night, he didn't mean to leave you behind like he did, he didn't mean to turn you into what you had become now.

You coughed up blood, holding your stomach tight, where the stab wound was.

And most of all, he didn't mean for this to happen. Not to you . . . not by him of all people

"Y/n- I didn't . . . please come with me. Your hurt!" Jake pleaded. You stumbled back and hit the metal wall. You laughed as you slid down to the ground. You slowly looked up to Jake with teary eyes.

It really hurts. The burning pain was like nothing you felt before.

Jake rushed to your side and tried to lift you up. You stopped him and gripped his shoulder. "Hey, you love me . . . yeah?"

Jake didn't hesitate to answer "Yes! I love you. I love you so much." Jake held back a sob as he moved strands of hair away from your face. You sighed and slowly looked back up to him.

"Then, if you truly love me. You should take responsibility for this." Jake's ears slicked back.

"W-what?"

Your eyes were stone cold. Void of any emotion.

"Finish what you started--" You grabbed onto Jake's hand, the one he still had his blade in. Your blood stained with the sharp object.

"-- And if you truly loved me, you'd end it for me already."

Jake shook his head "no, I can still save you! you still have time-"

You cut Jake off "Look, Jake. My time is up. No use for pity now." You were rather done at this point. Just wanting it to be over with.

Jake took a long moment. But it happened. You held eye contact with your father as he stuck the blade in you once more, finishing you off. His salty tears mixing with the blood on your face.

Jake Sully lost his daughter that day. By killing her with his own hands.

So, in short, remember parents that children can be quite fragile in their early stages of life.

They can and will remember everything.

[humongousgothskeletonfarm]

TGR CHAPTER 19 THOUGHTS

(includes spoilers)

- “Kevin gamely did his best to keep Neil out of the conversation, not trusting his vice-captain to speak, but the interviewer was persistent.” IM CACKLING NEIL CANNOT BE RESTRAINED KEVIN LET HIM LOOSE

- THANK U NORA FOR GIVING US KEVIN AND NEIL BANTER WE R SO BLESSED

- kevin kicking neil under the table 🫶 neil saying if kevin was honest about the ravens he wouldn’t have to be and kevin saying bitch ur literally the least honest person i know🫶 they love each other so bad

- “They don’t deserve kindness from me after everything they’ve put us through,” Neil insisted. “I hope they lose every game this season, and I’ll say it as many times as someone asks me. They don’t belong on the court until everyone Coach Moriyama trained has been cleared out of there. Edgar Allan should have farmed them out to other schools and dismantled the entire program, if you ask me.” HE SAID WHAT HE SAID AND HE WASNT WRONG OK HE STOOD ON BUSINESS THAT IS THE NEIL I KNOW AND LOVE THANK U FOR UR INPUT KING

and all kevin says is

“they didn’t ask you”

- “Kevin forgot all about his contentious teammate in favor of Trojan gossip.” i love him

- kevin defending jean, being confused why the interviewer thought he’d get in a brawl 🫶

- “Glad to see his ribs healed up without any lingering consequences for anyone involved.” neil u little instigating shit u!!!

- kevin POINTEDLY rubbing his scarred hand and then saying “With all due respect, there is no point,” he said. “You will never take anyone’s word over theirs, so you are best off asking the Ravens for the truth. But good luck: they do not know how to tell it unless one has been fed to them.” HE SAID THAT HE WENT THERE HE SAID FUCK UR BULLSHIT FUCK UR DICK RIDING OPEN UR EYES AND GROW A BRAIN BECAUSE THE RAVENS ARE NOT WHO U THINK THEY ARE

OHHHHH IM SHAKING IN MY BOOTS GUYS THIS IS MONUMENTAL LORD I LOVE THEM

- oh jere ur so jealous of renee and u don’t even know it

- it’s quite sad reading about how the graduated ravens career in exy only lasts about five years before the succumb to chronic pain etc. as much as i hate them for their actions, their treatment of jean and kevin and enabling of riko. they too were mistreated by riko and tetsuji and as much as they all still maintain that cult like loyalty to the ravens it is just very sad

- “Jeremy feared for Jean’s long-term health, but he feared for Kevin’s more.” oh jere ur so kind

- i’m ngl im so bad with names when im reading, especially when there’s heaps of characters. if one person only gets called by their last name and occasionally someone mentions their first name im going to assume it’s a whole different person. i cannot remember like half of the trojan lineup if im being completely honest with u

- ik u guys don’t give a fuck coz ur only here for the book but writing these is like writing a diary to me and i feel compelled to interject with random personal updates. i have exactly 100 pages left and less than an hour before i have to start getting ready for uni and leave and im desperate to finish it. lets lock in

- having to take a deep breath before i read the fox/raven game guys im so excited im shaking

- HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHITTTTTT

- JESUS FUCKING CHRIST U GET DISTRACTED FROM THE GAME FOR ONE SECOND AND SOMEONES ALREADY TRYNA KILL NEIL!! THEY BARELY STARTED PLAYING!!! GET THE FUCK OFF HIM BITCH

- KEVIN RUNNING TO GET TO NEIL AND BEING ATTACKED AND DAN FIGHTING OFF HIS ATTACKER AND KEVIN IMMEDIATELY STRAIGHT BACK TO GETTING NEIL AHHHH

- ALL I CAN SAY IS WHAT THE FUCK HOLY SHITTTTT

- andrew dragging wymack to get to neil while being injured ohhhhhh it’s baltimore all over again

- andrew immediately bodying the girl tryna attack neil with an injured arm and kevin kneeling beside neil. god he’s so loved and protected

- THIRTY SECONDS INTO THE HALF????

- “Boyd had no problems taking on a second body.” YEAH THATS RIGHT

- “Someone had finally gotten Neil to his feet, and Andrew was somehow keeping him there.” neil thought andrew looked steady, like he could hold him up😭

- UM FUCK THAT????? I AGREE DILLON WHY TF WERE THE GUY WHO HIT ANDREW AND LANE WHO TRIED TO LITWRALLY KILL NEIL AND WENT BACK FOR MORE EXEMPT FROM SUSPENSIONS BUT ANDREW WASNT

CHAPTER TWENTY

- lowkey is suchhhh a slight to put ur third lineup/not as great players on as starting. if i was the utes and i saw them do that id be so cut like ok i see what ur saying here

- “Being a victim doesn’t automatically absolve someone of their wrongdoings,” he said at last. “I can regret what they’re going through now, but I am not required to forgive them for what they’ve done to people I care about. I genuinely hope they get the help they need, and I hope it happens as far from the court as possible. Josten was right: none of them are ready to be back yet. It isn’t fair to them or anyone they’re up against.”

you took the words right out of my mouth jeremy. very diplomatic, two things can be true at once. the ravens need to heal and unlearn the bad behaviour they have been taught and stop inflicting it on others, they have been abused yes but that does not negate the abuse they contain to perpetuate and enact on others such as the foxes and jean. i hate them and i also want them to get better for their sake and everyone around them

- god jeremy has so much more patience and a stronger will than i could ever have. if someone sat their and kept pressing me and talking shit about my team i couldn’t refrain from starting an argument

-“He doesn’t want to challenge them. I don’t have to like it, and I won’t stop encouraging him to stand his ground, but I’m not going to force him into a confrontation he’s not ready to have. He’s learning how to trust us. I can’t betray him.”

ur already doing so well by him jeremy

- WHATS GOING ON PLS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SOMEONE TELL ME GIVE ME UPDATES OM THE FOXES!! WHATS RHEMANN SAID THAT GOT JEAN SO IPSET

- THE RAVENS HAVE BEEN SUSPENDED HOLY SHITTTTTT

- “He knew Rhemann had great respect for Wymack and the way he’d crafted his unorthodox team, and Rhemann had never hesitated to throw his weight behind Palmetto State when the ERC seemed poised to strike the small team down,” MUCH RESPECT TO RHEMANN GOTTA LOVE HIM

- TWO FRACTURED RIBS OHHHHH HES NOT GONNA BE HAPPY ABOUT THAT

(the missing out on court time)

- wymack and abby and andrew are gonna have their work cut out for them trying to stop him from playing

- GODDD A FRACTURE CLAVICAL ON ANDREW TOO???

- “Say the word and I’ll fight him over Christmas break,” Cody said. “I wasn’t going to go home for it, but I’ll make an exception.” LOVE THEMMMM I KNOW ITS A JOKE BUT LIKE TROJANS DONT EVEN JOKE ABOUT FIGHTING PEOPLE AND THEYRE DOING IT FOR JEAN

- jean hating cam because he was rude to thea oh he’s so good

- “How Jean’s kind heart had survived a place like Evermore, Jeremy wasn’t sure.” HE WAS ALWQYS TOO GOOD FOR THEM THIS SHITS GONNA MAKE ME CRY ON THE TRAIN RN

- OH MY FUCKING GOD I WAS THINKING JESUS CHRIST WHAT HAS SOMEONE SET THEIR HOUSE/COURT ON FIRE???

THEY DID WTF OH MY FUCKING GOD THIS IS INSANE MY JAW IS ON THE FLOOR

god i can’t even imagine their heartbreak this is so devastating. jeans first real home, the very little amount of possessions he had to his name all gone. the beautiful home laila and cat have constructed over the years a reflection of who they are as people, jeans safe haven. my chest aches for them.

jeans postcards from kevin and his 4th of july wristband :(( and knowing how guilty he’s going to feel over this,

- “You’re a victim as much as Cat and Laila are, so don’t take on a burden that isn’t yours. It won’t help any of you. Do you understand?”

“They adore you and so will gladly reassure you of your innocence until you believe them, but your unasked-for guilt is a distraction from their loss and grief. They don’t deserve that extra stress right now.”

“The best thing you can do right now is accept that some people are assholes and that it is outside of your control. Mourn what you’ve lost without carrying more than you should.”

some very wise words for jere, min and xavier there. it’s very easy to fall into the unending spiral of guilt and convince urself that u are at fault when that may not necessarily be the case

- rest in peace barkbark

- if this was a physical book there would be tears trains all over the pages of this chapter :(

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

- ohhhh jean hugging cat like she always does for him because it always makes him feel better im sooooo sick

- unnecessary life update no.5123849: i’m officially finished classes for today and i got to catch up with the only friend i can talk about aftg with for coffee, she hasn’t finished the book yet but it was much needed to get all my feelings out lmao

- “He’s only been playing for fourteen years, you can’t expect his own mother to know how an Exy season works.” cat is the friend everyone deserves

- AGENT BROWNING MAKES HIS RETURN

- “I hate this sport,” Browning said to his partner. “Explain to me why they’re all like this.” THiIS IS TEWWWW FUNNYYYYYY

browning fucking hates exy players

- oh wow look at the fbi being helpful once, that’s a shock

- idk if this is just because i’m not a part of sport culture or if it’s because im not american. but it’s so crazy to me that people (grown adults) are THAT invested in college sport that they would care this much i.e. burn down someone’s house in retaliation. idk maybe this is a thing that happens in the real life sporting fandom or maybe i should focus on the fact that this is fiction

[authormars]

Idk if you’ve already posted about this, but I’m gonna ask anyways.

what’s each of the brother’s (Diavolo and Barb included) biggest insecurity? :p

Ah, a post I can make into a long actual thing. I'm counting both physical and emotional

Lucifer

Lucifer's biggest insecurity would be his scars.

Lucifer regularly tells himself how perfect he is, but every time he looks in a mirror and finds his body littered in scars from battles long lost and won, from playful (and not so playful) fights with his brothers, from simply accidentally hurting himself, anything, it reminds him he isn't. Lucifer always covers even the smallest of scars, hating not being that perfect being. Perfection is his biggest flaw.

Mammon

Mammon's biggest insecurity would be his greed.

The knowledge that he would sell anything and everything for money. He knows it's not good. He doesn't want it to be this way. He hates being called a scumbag and an idiot and every insult his brothers hurl at him. He just can't control it. His greed controls him.

Leviathan

Levi doesn't really have a biggest insecurity. The answer would probably be everything.

He isn't as naturally knowledgeable as Lucifer. He isn't as charming as Mammon. He isn't as quick of a learner as Satan. He doesn't have Asmo's perfect body. He isn't strong like Beel. He couldn't choose not to care like Belphie. He is envious of everyone, insecure about anything.

Satan

Satan's biggest insecurity is feeling like a copy.

He can't stand that he was originally Lucifer. Everything he is came from his brothers. Not just Lucifer. Beel taught him how to work-out. Asmo taught him how to do his make-up. Levi taught him how to play games. Mammon taught him how to get under people's skin. Everything he is, everything he has, is because of his brothers. He's not a real demon, he's a creature of wrath molded by his brothers.

Asmodeus

Asmo's biggest insecurity is his ability to love.

Ever since the fall, all he's felt, all he's known is lust. It hinders him. Nudges it's way into his every thought. Is he even capable of love anymore? Can he hold the hand of another and feel anything except the need to bed them? It's almost as if Asmodeus doesn't exist anymore. As if all he is is lust. He fears that more than anything.

Beelzebub

Beel's biggest insecurity is his strength.

He was made to be strong. To be a protector. He works hard to keep that up. He wants to be a protector for his brothers. Someone safe for them to be around. But he fears sometimes his strength goes to far. He holds his hands close to himself so that he won't hurt anyone with just a simple hug. What's the point of having strength if all you can do is harm?

Belphegor

Belphie's biggest insecurity is that he believes Lilith should've been chosen, not him.

Ever since they fell, he's been nothing but problematic. At first, when he transitioned with his sin. Then, attempting to kill humans and fight against the exchange program. Then killing the exchange student his brothers cared for so much. Then making Lucifer's every day a living hell. What good did he have to be alive if all he did was cause trouble?

Diavolo

Diavolo's biggest insecurity is that everyone around him is only there because they have to be.

Mephisto was made to be his friend. Made to entertain him when he was isolated at the castle. He forced Barbatos to stay at the castle with him. He made Lucifer swear his loyalty to him. Swear he would stay by his side. What good is a friend if they're forced to be it?

Barbatos

Barb's biggest insecurity is that he didn't do his best with raising Diavolo.

He's proud of what the young lord has become. He's proud of the dream he's realized. But what if it isn't enough? Barbatos has seen demon kings rise and fall. The good and evil. He's seen what his young lord can become. What if, even after all the work to make him the kind-hearted soul he is, it isn't enough?

Thank you for reading so far into this (I know it's long)

My askbox is always open and if you have fic suggestions, I'm always up to write!

[tj-dragonblade]

[FIC] Loyalty Rewards Program

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: E Word Count: 9204 Tags: Human AU, Mechanic Hob, Rich Guy Dream, top Hob, bottom Dream, Dream of the Endless is a Horny Little Weasel, class dynamics, as a kink perhaps, Dream of the Endless is intense and unhinged, Hob matches his freak, Bossy Dream, Agreeable Hob, Service Top Hob Gadling, Enthusiatic Bottom Dream, Dream is Not Quiet in bed, there is a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet at one point, blatant disregard for typical human refractory periods, rimming, anal sex, felching-adjacent, inconsequential ingestion of lube, effusive endearments, dirty talk, overstimulation, anal fingering, help my hookup is growing feelings

Notes: Third in the Turbo Lover series (Customer Service and Every Nerve Alive on Tumblr, if AO3 is down). This one happened because Dream was insistent on getting properly fucked in the garage and I refuse to be the author who uses engine grease or motor oil for lube. This fills the free space (B2) on my @dreamlingbingo card, and is also the longest Sandman fic I've written to date.

Summary: Dream comes back to Matthew's Motor Repairs the next day and Hob gives him everything he asks for

On AO3 Hob re-locks the door as soon as he's ducked inside the shop the next morning; he's not opening for people today.

He has other obligations, after all.

He first makes a thorough job of cleaning and sweeping the floor around the Porsche. Whatever the plan today entails, he doesn't want to wind up kneeling on a bit of gravel or taking a stray hex nut to the arse cheek while he's fucking his rich admirer. Granted he may need to do a quick spot-sweep when Dream shows up—if Dream shows up—since he'll be working on the car in the meantime, but doing it now will make that faster.

…Of course Dream's going to show up, Hob's not worried. Guy was thirsty as fuck yesterday, he'll be back. He's got a car to pick up, after all, and speaking of, Hob had best make sure it's ready.

He strips out of his clothes and dons his coveralls nude, leaves them unzipped to the waist, not even bothering to keep his underwear today. It's cooler than yesterday but still plenty warm, and this will make things faster once Dream shows up. He's pretty sure Dream will appreciate the aesthetic, also.

Hob whistles to himself working under Dream's Porsche, finishing up the clutch replacement that he hadn't quite been able to focus on after Dream left yesterday. It's quick work to wrap it up and he makes sure to let grease smears accumulate on his arms and maybe he deliberately puts a couple of artistically-placed smudges on his chest, for fun.

With the clutch done, he moves on to changing the oil, flushing and refilling the other fluids, and giving the car a general tuneup. The Porsche is a beautiful machine and Hob's thrilled to have the chance to work on her.

He's thrilled to have the chance to work on her owner, too.

When the shop bell rings, Hob's heart leaps. He's just got the car all closed up and down from the ramps and done another quick sweep so assuming that's Dream, and it should be, his timing is perfect. He winds his way to the front, zipping up his coveralls just in case and opening the door.

Dream is there on the other side, as breathtakingly gorgeous as Hob remembers. "Am I the 'special circumstances'?" he asks, coy and smouldering as he taps the handwritten sign Hob had pasted in the window—Closed for walk-ins due to special circumstances; ring if you have an appointment.

"The specialist of circumstances," Hob agrees, effervescent joy and lust bubbling up inside him, spilling into his smile. "Closed up so I'm all yours. Entirely at your service."

"Wonderful," Dream purrs, stepping through the door. "For I am desperately in need of the services of a good mechanic."

Hob pulls the door closed after him, ensures it's latched in and that it's still locked, then turns with a grin. "You've come to the right place then, love. I'm at your disposal, one hundred percent, and I will personally see to your complete satisfaction. Guaranteed." He winks.

Dream steps in closer, tilts his head just enough to gaze up heatedly from beneath his lashes, toys with the tab of the zipper at Hob's collarbone. "Do you offer such comprehensive personal service to all your customers?" He's slowly drawing the zip down as he speaks.

Hob's heartrate picks up and his breath goes a bit short. "Oh no, this comes special with our uh, our loyalty rewards program," he manages, with his best charm-the-customer smile. The dainty fingertips unzipping his coveralls are very distracting.

Dream stops once he's exposed Hob's chest hair, rakes his nails through it lightly, skirting the grease smeared above it. "But this is the first time I have brought my patronage to your shop," he counters, with the prettiest little pout.

Hob shakes his head. "See I count twice; you tried out my services yesterday and found them satisfactory enough to come back today. And I'm very sure, if I meet your exacting standards, I can earn your repeat business. So I'll opt you in, because I have that much confidence in the quality of my work."

He's mixing his references clumsily, the car repairs and the sex getting muddled together, but Dream is smiling all the same. "Let us hope your confidence is not misplaced, then," he says, voice dipping lower in that way that makes Hob's stomach tighten delightfully. "I should hate to be granted such privilege unduly."

With that, Dream draws the zipper down more, then turns and steps away, casting a come-hither glance over his shoulder as he sashays toward the door into the garage. Hob, unzipped to the waist and hard already, is hot to follow, but first—

He tears the sign from the window, hangs the normal 'Closed' sign in its place, double-checks the lock and throws the deadbolt for good measure. He rounds the reception desk and logs into the phone system, makes sure the auto-answer is set to the 'closed unexpectedly' option, and sets the ringer to after-hours so it'll go straight to messages instead of ringing through. Not that he'd be stopping in the middle of whatever they're about to be doing to answer the phone, but this way they're guaranteed no distractions, no interruptions. Then he hurries after Dream.

Dream is completely naked when he gets back to the garage, leaning pale and pretty and barefoot against the side of his Porsche with his arms loosely folded and his cock hanging ready, half-hard, beautiful.

"Well hello, gorgeous," Hob says, unabashedly enthusiastic as he approaches, wondering if he's meant to just dive in or wait for a cue, if he's allowed to pull Dream into his arms and start with a kiss. His gaze falls to the delicate arches of Dream's feet, the soft pale curves of his toes (with black-painted nails!), and he's really glad he swept up first.

"You occupy my thoughts incessantly, Hob Gadling," Dream says, pushing off the car and stepping close to Hob again, hands reaching to toy with the open edges of his coveralls.

"Do I, now?" Hob decides on a caution-to-the-wind approach and snakes an arm around Dream's waist, raises a dirt-stained thumb to brush over his cheek. Dream hadn't hesitated yesterday to say what he did and didn't want; Hob will trust him to do the same today. "They're good thoughts, I hope?"

"Very," Dream breathes, gripping the coveralls, tugging marginally; his eyes are dark, his pale cheeks faintly flushed with excitement, his pretty pink lips slightly parted, and Hob sees no reason to resist the temptation presented.

The noise Dream makes when Hob kisses him is soft, eager, encouraging, and Hob presses closer, lets both hands play over Dream's bare skin, up and down his spine. Dream is kissing back, heated and insistent; he slips both hands inside Hob's coveralls, around his waist and down to grasp his arse cheeks, squeeze appreciatively, pull him closer.

Hob breaks away with a gasp, delighted and impossibly turned on; Dream squeezes again, nips at the scruff on his chin. "You are not wearing any underwear today, Hob," he murmurs, in a tone of pleased discovery, and Hob can't help grinning.

"Thought you might appreciate it," he says, breathless, hands stroking up and down Dream's biceps, leaving faint smudges behind. "Makes things a bit faster, easier—"

"And are you easy, Hob Gadling?"

"Only for you," he answers, which is truer than it would have been two weeks ago. "God, you smell good today—" He really does, floral-herbal freshness wafting from his hair, faint notes of soap and a light cologne lingering on his skin; Hob lets instinct shape his words. "So clean and pretty, too; come down to the garage to get properly dirty, have we?"

The way Dream shivers against him tells him that was indeed the right thing to say.

"Perhaps," Dream replies, and squeezes Hob's arse again. "I very much appreciate your wardrobe choices, in that regard." He brings his hands around front, one dipping to cup Hob's dick while the other draws the zipper all the way down underneath.

"Thought you might," Hob manages, while Dream's slender fingertips touch his balls, stroke with gentle pressure, and then Dream is moving, grasping at the shoulders of Hob's coveralls and pushing them off.

"I would feel you, bare, against me," is what he says, which sounds like a fine idea to Hob. He struggles briefly with the rolled-up sleeves but as soon as his arms are free Dream is in them, pressing up against him, kissing him fiercely and completely derailing any attempt at getting the coveralls all the way off.

Fuck it, Hob decides, letting them just fall around his legs as he wraps Dream close and kisses him back, hungry and insistent to match Dream's fervor. He backs him up a step, two, until Dream's narrow arse hits the Porsche again and he squirms prettily, his cock nudging up against Hob's as they break the kiss, panting.

"Over the bonnet then, love?"

Dream shakes his head, an effortlessly imperious little gesture. "I wish to ride you, first." He gestures to the creeper. "Please."

Clearly, clearly Dream's got some very specific fantasies about cars and mechanics and Hob is delighted that he gets to help make them happen. "Absolutely," he grins, shuffling down into position on the board.

Dream grabs a condom and a bottle of lube from where he'd stashed them between the windscreen and the bonnet and drops next to Hob. Which is just as well since Hob's supplies are with his clothes in the locker on the other side of the garage; he leans back on his elbows as Dream tears open the condom and rolls it onto him.

"You've got such pretty hands," he breathes, shivering at the glide of Dream's touch along his shaft, and doesn't miss the breath Dream sucks in at the compliment. "Gonna show me how you use those fingers to open yourself up? Or do I get to do that for you, hm?"

"Neither," Dream answers, rising and turning to lean over the side of the bonnet, which confuses Hob for half a second until he speaks again.

"Spread me open," he directs, and Hob is only to happy to sit up and comply, to see the greasy smudge of his fingerprints smeared on Dream's lily-white arse—

Dream is wearing a plug.

Hob's libido, already cranked to eleven, ratchets up another notch. "Oh, fuck," he breathes reverently, wide-eyed. Dream had put that in at home, had come here sitting on it, walking with it inside him, just to be ready for Hob's cock?

Christ, but that's hot.

He watches raptly as Dream's slender fingers grip the wide base and start pulling; he takes his time and Hob gets to just hold him open and watch as Dream's hole slowly stretches around the flare of the thing, bigger and bigger until it finally passes the widest point and slides the rest of the way free, and the hungry little sound of relief Dream makes as it comes out makes Hob's dick ache.

He desperately wants to slip his tongue in there, wriggle it into the shrinking gape and let Dream's body close to grip snugly around him, but Dream is a man on a mission, and that mission is getting Hob's prick inside him. He straightens up, turns and straddles Hob, fingertips to Hob's chest pressing him down as Dream squats over his lap. He drops the plug aside, reaches behind to take Hob's slicked-up rubber-wrapped cock and guide it into his body as he comes down, and the sound he makes plus the tight warm sheath of his arse have Hob absolutely riveted.

Dream lifts himself, thighs straining and hand firmly on Hob's chest now, fucks himself up and down on Hob's prick while hovering over it, letting out the most decadent moans each time he sinks onto it. He'd said he wanted to ride Hob but he's only made it as far as squatting, like he's so desperate for Hob's cock he can't even wait to get all the way into proper position for it and Hob (and his dick) definitely feel some kind of way about it. Dream's own prick bobs stiff and eager in front of him, a little drop of fluid glistening at the tip already, and Hob almost wishes he was enough of a contortionist to get it in his mouth. Later, perhaps. Right now he's got this gorgeous creature pistoning eagerly on his cock and well on his way to losing his mind, from the sound of it.

Hob spreads both hands over the tops of Dream's thighs, feeling how they tremble with exertion, and finally draws them down, forward, coaxing Dream out of his squat and into a proper kneeling position. He shifts his grip to Dream's hips and pulls him onto his cock at the same time, all the way down until he's buried deep up inside and Dream is panting the breathiest little 'yes, yes, yes's as he bottoms out, eyes wide and glazed. His hand is still planted on Hob's chest and Hob takes it up carefully, draws it to his mouth and kisses Dream's fingertips; Dream whines, gaze sharpening and honing in on Hob's actions. Hob's lips brush the pads of those fingers as he speaks.

"Did you still want to ride me, darling? Or should I hold you still and start fucking up into that pretty little hole?"

Dream shivers, makes another needy little noise and draws himself up on Hob's cock, sinks back down, does it again, and again, faster, harder, until he's panting breathless moans on every pass. His hands are planted on Hob's chest, up near his shoulders next to the grease smeared beneath his collarbone, and Hob rests his hands at Dream's hips, ready to take up the slack if he's needed.

Dream rides like a pro, to be honest, finding his rhythm and moving steadily in pursuit of his pleasure. His arse is snug and hot and slick, his voice like a song as he glides so easily up and down on Hob's prick; he feels amazing, and Hob has to remind himself to breathe as it goes on and on, to keep a rein on his own pleasure until Dream's gotten everything he needs.

At last Dream's pace begins to falter, his panting moans stuttering into broken little whimpers as he flags in his feverish bouncing. "Hob," he whines, arse wriggling lower, his fingers clutching at Hob's chest hair. "You feel. So good, inside me—"

"Do I?" Hob breathes, fingertips brushing over Dream's flanks, and it's weak, so weak as far as dirty talk goes but he can't help it. He's enamoured, struck senseless by how into this Dream is, and words are failing him.

"Yes—" Dream squirms forward and back, circles his hips beneath Hob's attentive grease-stained hands, moans prettily. "Hob, please—"

He doesn't even have to specify, it's clear enough what he's after now, and Hob moves to grip him properly, to lift him just slightly. He clutches tight, fingertips digging in to what little meat there is on Dream's arse, plants his boots on the concrete floor and thrusts up into him.

Dream cries out, clenches his fists on Hob's shoulders and throws his head back, chest heaving. Hob draws out and thrusts again, full force, and again, and Dream shudders, gasping, delighted. "Hob—yes—yes—" He squeezes tight around Hob's prick and groans, drops his head to meet Hob's gaze with fever-bright eyes. "Fuck me—I want—"

"Tell me," Hob breathes, mesmerized, shifting his feet for better leverage and thrusting into him again, and Dream warbles beautifully.

"Faster. Deeper—as hard and as deep as you can, Hob—!"

"'Course, love," Hob gasps, hips moving to comply with barely a thought, and Dream's voice rises into a long keening wail as Hob gives him precisely what he's asked for.

"Yes—yes—yes—!" He tosses his head back again, the arch of his throat working beautifully as he chokes out 'yes' after 'yes', arms stiff and trembling, hands still braced tight on Hob's shoulders.

Hob grunts with exertion, pounding up into Dream with everything he's got, thighs damp and sticking slightly where they press against Dream's. He's transfixed by the rapture in Dream's face, the sheen of sweat on his neck and chest, the stream of noises coming out of his pretty mouth; he looks and sounds like having Hob's cock in him is the best thing ever, like it's everything he wanted, and Hob is fast falling in love with how expressive he is about sex.

Dangerous thoughts, those; he puts them far away, concentrates on pumping hard and fast and deep up into Dream's lovely arse to make him come. He's careful still not to come himself; Dream has clearly got plans and it's his job to stay hard as long as Dream needs his cock.

"Hob—Hob—ahh, don't stop, Hob—!"

Hob squeezes Dream's arse, spreading his cheeks just a tiny bit more, and shifts the tempo down slightly, fucks up into him long and smooth, deep, steady. Dream wails, lost in the pleasure of it, and droops suddenly to lay over Hob's chest, a graceful fall into an open kiss interspersed with Dream's panting and whimpering. Hob shifts his hips to accommodate the changed angle and Dream sobs into his mouth, needy, desperate. His prick is nestled against Hob's belly, wet at the tip, hot and hard and Dream is moving helplessly as Hob fucks him, rutting through the hair on Hob's stomach in little jerks. He's tense in Hob's arms, trembling, skin damp with sweat all over and Hob thinks he could do this forever if he had to, fucking this gorgeous creature curled atop him but he doesn't have to, he knows, he can tell, Dream is nearly there—

Dream goes rigid abruptly, breath choking in his throat as his mouth opens wider, still meshed to Hob's. A high thin sound trickles out of his throat and Hob laps it up, fucks into him once, twice, again, and then Dream convulses with a wail, wet warmth blooming on Hob's belly. He buries himself as deep into Dream as he can and holds it there, flexes against the rhythmic clutching of Dream's arse around him, kisses Dream through the tremors and pulses of orgasm until he goes limp.

He spends a moment petting up and down Dream's spine then while Dream lies boneless atop him, catching his breath. He's still warm and tight around Hob's dick, perfect and tempting and—

And heavier than he looks, honestly; Hob shifts to take him by the shoulders, lifts him off his chest just a bit. Dream takes the cue, raises himself somewhat, blinks the haze from his eyes as he meets Hob's. The smile on his lips quickly sharpens to something simmering with heat, but Hob saw. He saw that glimpse of softness, the glow of bliss on Dream's face and he feels the way his heart trips, knows he's losing his battle.

There's a faint smudge of grease on Dream's forehead that probably came from Hob's collarbone and his dick twitches to see it. Dream shivers and squeezes around him and Hob sighs, a full and happy sound.

"You're pretty when you come," he says, gathering his wits about him again. He smears his hand through the mess on his stomach, picks up a little grease from just beside it, reaches to cradle Dream's face. "So, so pretty." He strokes his fingers back through Dream's hair, leaving a faint black smudge and sticky colorless smears on his cheekbone and more than a trace of filth in his hair.

"Only when I come?" It's a tease, accompanied by a gentle squeeze around him, and Hob shivers.

"'Course not," he murmurs, flexing his dick in response, delighted by the shiver that runs through Dream in turn. "You're pretty when you're bouncing on my cock, too. And when you tell me what you want me to do to you. And yesterday." He flexes again, warming to the topic. "You looked so pretty yesterday, with grease smeared on your face and my prick in your mouth."

Dream makes a pleased sound, squeezes his arse around Hob again, and Hob is more than ready to carry on, if Dream is. He strokes his thumb over the tacky mess on Dream's cheek. "Can I dirty you up some more, beautiful? Make you come for me again?"

"I should be very disappointed if you did not, Hob Gadling," Dream purrs, and there's that imperious little smirk again, the one Hob is already too attached to.

He'll give this man whatever he wants, and love every second of it.

"What next, then, sweetheart?" He's slowly pulsing up into Dream now in unhurried rhythm, too leisurely to be called fucking but ready to pick up the pace in a heartbeat. "Keep going like this?" The creeper is getting a bit uncomfortable, truth be told, and he wouldn't mind getting up off the floor but if Dream's not done yet he'll tough it out.

"No." Thankfully Dream sits all the way up, wriggles deliciously on Hob's cock, bottomed out and heavy-eyed with the pleasure of having it so deep inside him. "Next, I would have you—ahh—" He squirms, back arching, mouth falling open as Hob gives in to the temptation of dragging the rough grease-stained pad of his thumb over one pristine petal pink nipple. "Bend—bend me over the bonnet. Fuck me until I scream—Hob—!" He's panting as Hob caresses the tender little bud of flesh, writhing as if he could take Hob any deeper.

Hob shivers. "Fuck. Alright. As you wish, you precious beautiful man—" He lifts Dream's hips, lifts Dream off his cock as he sits up, then wraps one arm under Dream's narrow arse and heaves them both up with a grunt of exertion, his other hand braced on the car for support. It's awkward as fuck with his coveralls still wadded about his ankles and he can tell already his back and thighs are going to hate him for it tomorrow, but it's entirely worth it for the arousal that flares in Dream's widened eyes, the way he clings and wraps his legs around Hob, the way he surges in to kiss Hob again.

Hob shuffles round the front of the car using his one hand for guidance while Dream devours his mouth, and carefully lowers Dream onto the bonnet. He knows it's not the position Dream was looking for but he can't help slipping his cock back into him like this, when Dream is still wrapped around him and ripe for the plowing.

Dream breaks the kiss with a reedy little whining noise as Hob nudges inside him and sinks deep; he claws at Hob's shoulders and draws his legs back, open and practically begging and alright, okay, Hob can give him a good minute like this first, fucks into him in soft smooth rhythm. Dream's pretty pink cock is stiffening up again already, laying thick and half-filled against his belly and jolting with every thrust; he's panting open-mouthed, the sweetest little sounds falling out of him each time Hob pushes in.

"You're gorgeous like this too," Hob gets out, needing the talk to divide his focus, to keep himself going without risk of finishing. "So eager, so open, so fuckable—" Dream shudders, biting off a deep whine at the word, leaned back and still hanging onto Hob's shoulders for support, feet braced on his hips, and Hob zeroes in on his advantage. "Has no one ever called you that before, sweetheart? Fuckable?"

"None I would care to hear it from," Dream moans, pulling himself up closer, disrupting Hob's rhythm. "But. From your lips. It sounds like a benediction—" He kisses Hob, tongue plunging into his mouth, arms wrapping tight behind Hob's neck. His legs shift also, wrapping back around Hob's waist and he pulls himself close, up off the car as Hob gets his arms quickly underneath to support him.

"Give a bloke an ego, talking like that," he gasps, when Dream lets him up for air.

"It's well-deserved," Dream counters, nipping at his lower lip and shifting his weight so that Hob steps back to keep them balanced. "You are exquisite, and talented with your dick, and I wish to be so deeply and thoroughly fucked over my car that I will still feel you inside me tomorrow." He plunges his tongue back into Hob's mouth and unlocks his legs from around him, lets Hob set him back on his feet.

"Do you need a refresh on your lube first?" Hob gasps, mindful of what they've already done and what Dream still wants from him and the serviceable life of water-based lube.

Dream pauses, considering. "Perhaps," he says, with the restlessness of someone eager to get back into action but recognizing the wisdom of the question regardless.

Hob leans around him and reaches, snags the lube off the bonnet. "Let me slick you up a bit more just to be safe." He glances at his hands, perpetually stained and still dirty enough to leave smudges on Dream's skin. "Or you can, since your hands are cleaner?"

"Yes," Dream agrees, taking the bottle and squirting some out. He reaches behind himself and Hob gets to watch his face flicker through half a dozen little expressions; he's clearly moving for function over pleasure but there's enjoyment to be had all the same, from the look of it.

"There." Dream straightens as he finishes, eyes Hob with new heat in his gaze. "Are you clean."

"What?"

Dream narrows his eyes, clearly conveying both horniness and impatience in equal measure. "I am clean; I test regularly. I want your come inside me. Are. You. Clean."

Hob's libido flares, wildly. "Yes. Fuck. Yes, okay." Caution to the wind, and all that.

Dream reaches down and removes Hob's condom, drops it aside and picks up the lube again. He slicks up Hob's cock, kisses him fiercely while doing so, then turns and drapes himself over the bonnet of his Porsche and lifts up on his toes, arse presented. "Fuck me," he demands over his shoulder, breathless and eager like he hadn't just come bouncing on Hob's cock not ten minutes ago. Insatiable. "Hold me down with your work-dirtied hands and fuck me—"

Hob doesn't need to be told twice. He lines up and pushes in, bare slick and easy, all the way to the hilt. Dream makes the most appreciative and desperate little moan, wriggling backwards; Hob grabs his hip with one grease-stained hand, plants his other in the middle of Dream's narrow back and fucks.

Dream cries out, high gasping breaths punched from his lungs with every thrust and Hob just revels in it, moving in sure and steady rhythm. It's easy, so easy, smooth and slick and so good, and Dream's enthusiastic response is—it's heady, to have someone react to him this way, to want him this much, and he'll do everything he can to give Dream what he wants, to make it worth it. It's no hardship, far from it.

"Your arse is so hot," Hob pants, "so tight, absolutely perfect. Can't believe you wore that glass plug here so you'd be ready to get plowed." He grinds his hips deep in emphasis, draws out a little and relishes the way Dream whimpers when he slams back in. "Sweet of you, though. Did it turn you on, sitting on it in the cab? Feeling it move inside you when you walked? Were you horny and eager the whole way here, darling, stuffed full with your toy and imagining my prick in its place?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Dream cries, as much an answer as it is interjection. He's thrusting backward as best he can in Hob's hold, eager and desperate, and Hob keeps fucking, keeps talking.

"I loved watching you take it out. Your beautiful hole stretching bigger and bigger around it, how open you were after. Wanted to stick my tongue in there, sweetheart, wanted to eat you out, make you squirm."

Dream is gasping, wailing, trembling where Hob pins him to the car, head tossing, breath heaving under Hob's steady hand. His cock is surely leaking a mess all over the bonnet; Hob'll have to clean it for him again when they're done.

"You've got the prettiest little hole I've ever seen," Hob continues, steady and unflagging in his rhythm. He leans back, drags both hands to Dream's arse cheeks and squeezes, spreads them so he can easily see himself sinking in, his naked prick pushing and pulling at the puffy pink rim of Dream's hole again and again. He slows, savoring the sight, and Dream whines, clenches around him as he presses back in. "Absolutely beautiful," Hob breathes, thumb moving to stroke over the delicate skin stretched tight around the girth of his prick. "Exquisite. I'm so lucky I get to ravish it."

He knows on one hand he sounds ridiculous as he picks up the pace again, but on the other it's doing the trick on both counts—distracting him from his own pleasure to draw it out, and driving Dream higher at the same time.

And Dream is absolutely being driven to the heights of pleasured madness, that much is clear. He's writhing on the bonnet under Hob's steady pounding, fingers clutching futilely at the glossy surface, skin flushed and sweat-damp and sticking to the car, ribs heaving. And the sounds coming out of his mouth? Good god, he's noisy, so fucking loud and it's not like Hob doesn't love it, not like there's anyone around to hear or any other reason to hold back. It does great things for his ego, the way Dream's wailing like he's never been railed this good in his life, but Hob's got an idea and his instincts say it's spot-on, so he goes for it.

He claps his hand—still grimy from the tune-up, still a little tacky with Dream's come—he claps it gently over Dream's mouth, stifling his volume, and Dream jolts, then goes wild. His head goes all the way back, giving Hob easier coverage; his breath comes short and sharp through his nose, faster and faster in time with his cries that go higher and shriller, muffled by Hob's not-exactly-clean hand. His body has gone tense, trembling, hips thrusting back against Hob's with mounting desperation and god, but Hob is in love. "That's it, sweetheart, come for me again," he murmurs breathlessly, bending close to Dream's ear and the dried mess on his cheek and squeezing his hip, flexing the hand that covers his mouth. "Take your fill of my cock, shoot your load all over your car—I'll clean it again for you, don't worry—"

Dream stills abruptly, shaking, voice a strangled muffled shriek as he comes; Hob thrusts deep into his pulsing clenching arse and holds, intending to let Dream ride out his orgasm. But Dream wriggles, wrenches his head free of Hob's hand, gasping.

"Move—don't stop—"

So Hob moves.

He straightens up and sets both hands back on Dream's hips, fucks eagerly into him, quickly re-establishing his rhythm and speeding up. "Good?" he grunts, sweat dripping down his temple, and Dream warbles out an affirmative.

"Harder—Hob—use me, claim me, fill me—!" His voice shakes; his hands are spasming against the bonnet, his arms trembling, and his arse is so tight and slick and hot, clenches so beautifully around him, Hob isn't going to last but another moment.

"Use your pretty little hole for my own pleasure?" he gets out, pounding into it now with everything he's got, spiraling up to the horizon, and Dream sobs.

"Yes, Hob, yes—!"

"Claim it for myself?" Hob gasps, grinding deep, slamming into him again and again. "Fill you up with my come—ahh—here it is—Dream!"

Dream wails, and Hob comes, gasping, grunting, the euphoria sweeping through his veins in a warm rush. His hips jerk involuntarily, shoving deep, emptying himself thoroughly into Dream's clutching arse.

"Fuck," he pants, pulse pounding in his ears, "oh, fuck—"

It's good, so damn good, feels like it goes on forever, everything in his body alight with pleasure and pouring out through his dick, until at long last it subsides and he collapses, barely catching himself before he crushes Dream. He takes a minute, just panting above him, and then pulls out carefully—still wet and messy, regardless—with a groan. Dream whimpers, a sound of abject loss, but does not move from where he has gone limp on the car.

Hob turns carefully to perch beside him, resting his arse on the bonnet, catching his breath.

"Alright there, Dream?" he asks, after a moment.

"Mmh," is the only reply, and Hob takes a moment to just look at him, gaze sweeping over the lines of his body and the grey-black smudges he himself has left on that pristine pale skin. He lingers over the curves (such as they are) of Dream's arse, leans far enough to see where there's a mess of lube and semen dribbling down Dream's perineum to his balls, a glistening runnel of it trickling down his inner thigh—Hob shivers, arousal sparking despite the remains of orgasm still simmering in his blood.

"Christ, you look beautiful like this," he can't help saying. "Fucked out across the bonnet of your Porsche with your legs spread, and my come dripping out of your arse…"

"Silver tongue." Dream does not move from where he sprawls, languid and heavy-lidded, spread-eagled on the car, even as Hob levers himself up, moves to stand behind Dream again.

"Mmyes, that's right. Said something about having a use in mind for it, didn't you?"

"Perhaps."

"'Perhaps' he says," Hob drawls, grinning, but the idea's back in his head now and oh, he would like to get his tongue in Dream's arse, lube or no lube. He saw the bottle, it's water-based, it's not going to kill him to lick a bit of it up. "Why don't you tell me if this is what you had in mind, then."

He drops into a squat and flicks the tip of his tongue around the puffy rim of Dream's messy and very-pink hole, circling it with a light touch, and the sound that Dream makes is nothing but encouraging. His own come is no particular delicacy but just like the lube, he doesn't mind that he's getting a taste in the course of eating out this beautiful man. Dream's hole is swollen with use and sensitive and Hob kisses it softly, wets his tongue and wriggles it in, gently at first with slurping licks in between but with increasing enthusiasm until Dream is squirming against his face and he's as deep as he can get, grease-stained hands gripping those milk-white cheeks and spreading them wide.

The keening noise Dream makes urges him on and he delves back in again and again, breathless and eager, feasting until his face is sticky and his jaw aches. Finally he draws back, panting, senses filled with the smell and the taste of this man and still, Dream remains insatiable.

"More. Hob, I want more, do not send me on my way so unsated—"

He has come twice, surely he is not sincere when he says 'unsated', and yet. Here he is, pleading for more, as needy and eager as he's been the whole time. And god, but Hob wants to give him everything, is itching to finger him out but he's not doing that when his hands are still dirty, he's just not. Nor is he going to make Dream wait while he scrubs down with the Swarfega. He casts about, thinking, tongue lapping soothingly around Dream's sloppy hole all the while; there's the plug Dream was wearing but it's been sitting on the shop floor so no; it's shaped for stretching more than fucking anyway. His fingers really would be best—

"Did you bring more than just the one condom?"

"Mmh?" Dream sounds keyed up and hazy, blissed out on the attentions of Hob's tongue and Hob smiles, plants a kiss over his hole.

"Condoms, love. Have you got another?"

"Yes. Trouser pocket—"

"And where did your trousers escape to?" He kisses again, flicks his fatigued tongue inside in a teasing lick.

"Front seat." Dream wriggles, needy, restless and wanting.

"Brilliant. Hang on, got an idea—" He scrambles up and around and finds the clothes rumpled in the Porsche's driver seat, rifles through the pockets for the promised condom and tears it open, slips it over his first two fingers as he shuffles round the front of the car again, coveralls still tangled in his boots. Dream is a vision sprawled face down and spread-legged on the bonnet, eyes tracking Hob's return, and Hob won't leave him waiting another instant.

"Here we are," he murmurs, condom-clad fingers sliding down the cleft of Dream's grease-smudged arse and slipping deftly into his hole still slick with lube and Hob's jizz, Hob's spit. Hob pushes deep, curves his touch down and massages, and Dream cries out, going rigid.

Grinning, Hob leans over the bonnet beside him, fingers working deep and steady, and watches Dream's prettily-dirtied face as he comes apart. He's mewling, eyes wide, mouth open and gasping; he's come twice already and his insides are swollen and sensitive, his pleasure easy to stoke to trembling heights. Hob shifts briefly to drizzle more lube in for good measure and then gives him no quarter, fingers steady and relentless in their attentions until Dream is shaking, sobbing, tears leaking from his eyes and saliva drooling from the corner of his mouth. He pushes up on trembling arms, collapses back to his elbows, head hanging low between his shoulders. "Hob—aah—Hob, please!" It's unclear if he's begging for more or begging for mercy, but the way he flexes up on his toes and pushes back on Hob's hand is telling enough.

"Shh," Hob soothes, leaning close enough to brush his mouth across Dream's bicep in an open kiss, and then, because he can't help being just a touch evil: "Do you want to come again? Or did you need me to stop?"

"Do not stop," he manages, and it is very much an order despite his gasping breathless delivery. "Your hands are exquisite, Hob—!"

"You say the sweetest things," Hob murmurs, kissing his arm again and rubbing particularly hard with both fingers.

Dream wails, head tossing, trembling, helpless, and Hob draws his fingers partway out only to drive them back in, again and again and again, curving his touch to hit that spot on every thrust. He twists his hand as he goes, employing every expert technique he's honed in his time to bring Dream up to the edge again.

God, he loves this, having another person trust him with their pleasure and being able to give them everything they want and then some. It's heady, addictive to have this beautiful man sobbing in delight because of him, shaking apart, because of him; he desperately wants for this to not be the last time. Predictably, his mouth starts running again, pleading his case.

"You can have this anytime you like, love, I'd be delighted to take care of you again. Your pretty mouth, your pretty cock, this pretty perfect eager little hole—" He twists his fingers just so, curls and presses.

Dream warbles out a wet, broken sound that may or may not be Hob's name, bends trembling knees to widen his stance just a little, letting Hob that much deeper inside him.

Beautiful. Perfect.

"Come see me anytime you just need a good hard fuck, mmh? Whenever you want a fun and filthy seeing-too from your handsome bit of rough down at the garage?" He pauses with his fingers buried deep, strokes them fast and firm over exactly the right spot again and again and Dream wails, a high thin keening noise deep in his throat that rises into a proper scream as he comes at last. His body spasms, clenches hard on Hob's fingers in pulsing rhythm and Hob doesn't let up for a long moment, milks him relentlessly through it until he collapses onto the bonnet, boneless and panting.

Hob stills his fingers at that point but doesn't yet pull them out, savoring the snug warmth they're nestled in and the beautiful picture Dream makes like this.

He did that. He made Dream come three times, worked this posh pretty thing into a limp fucked-out mess sprawled across his expensive car.

God, but he wants to do it again.

"Do you think you've got one more in you?" He can't help it; he's always been greedy.

Dream groans, a low sound that stirs something deep in Hob's stomach. "Three times, Hob. I am spent." Yet he makes no move to rise from the car or pull off from Hob's hand, which he could easily do.

Greatly daring, tempted beyond reason by this ravenous marvelous creature, Hob twitches his fingers where they're still pressed against Dream's prostate.

Dream jerks, a shudder running through him, then squeaks when Hob does it again. "Hob—!" His eyes fly open, shining beneath his wet lashes.

"I'll stop if you say so," Hob hastens to assure him. "But you did chide me to not send you home unsated and I just want to make sure I've given you everything"—he presses again—"you need."

Dream whines through his teeth, sucks in a great gasping breath as Hob lets up and cries out when Hob's fingers curl mercilessly within him again, and again, and again. He scrabbles uselessly at the bonnet and lifts his head, mouth open, muscles straining, body trembling as Hob starts taking him apart again before he's even pulled himself back together from the last orgasm.

Hob's good with his hands, in this as well as his work, and he's quite certain he can make Dream come again in fairly short order given how sensitized and overstimulated he is. Hob is also quite certain he can draw this out just a bit longer, work him up even more before pushing him over the edge again and quite frankly, that sounds like more fun.

"Stay with me sweetheart," he murmurs in between Dream's cries, shifting his hand to stave off the cramp that wants to start. He strokes Dream's insides with both fingers, together at first and then one after the other; the condom and the grip of Dream's body restrict his range of movement somewhat but not so much that he can't do his job well.

"God, I'm so fucking lucky," he breathes, fingers still moving steadily, and kisses his way softly up Dream's arm. "You're beautiful, perfect, so pretty and so hungry and so eager—" He's planting kisses across Dream's shoulders and back between words, moving down his spine next. "And you let me touch you, worship your body, get you off again and again and again—" He bends over Dream's arse, draws his fingers partway free and spreads them as wide as the condom allows, stretching open Dream's swollen well-used hole. He dips close, slides his tongue into the gap he's created and Dream moans, gasping, trembling. Hob takes a good minute with his tongue before pulling back and sinking his fingers deep again. "This hole, this perfect hungry insatiable hole, you let me fill it as I please, with my cock and my come and my fingers—so lucky, I am. Would you let me fill you with toys, too, sweetheart? I'll bet you've got a drawerful at home; I'd love to try them with you one by one, learn the best ways to play with each, to make you scream and sob and shake—" He's massaging Dream's prostate again, thorough and unhurried and Dream is indeed sobbing, incoherent. He moves, suddenly, draws up one knee beneath him on the bonnet and then the other as Hob moves with him. He's up on all fours briefly and then sinks down, folded double on his knees with his arms stretched out to grip where the bonnet meets the windscreen and his arse opened wide, letting Hob's fingers sink as deep as possible.

"Finish me, Hob," he begs, gripping weakly around Hob's diligent fingers, voice hoarse and shaky, "make me—make me—fuck, I can't—I can't—" He sobs, trembling, and Hob. Well. He's neither a cruel man, nor strong in the face of temptation, and his hand is ready to give out as well. So he buries his fingers to the hilt, seeks out that spot and gives it his all, strokes it quick and steady and firm, both fingers together, then one after the other, together again and Dream's knees spread wide, his spent prick pressing soft against the bonnet. He's making one long sound now, low and thin and straining in his throat, interspersed with gasping gulps of breath. His body trembles, jolts every time Hob presses harder at his prostate, and Hob leans back over beside him, softly kisses the curve of his shoulder.

"I've got you, sweetheart, we're almost there," he breathes, fingering relentlessly. "Is it still good?"

"Yes—fuck—fuck—Hob!" Dream scrabbles one hand down in Hob's direction and Hob seizes it, laces their fingers together; Dream is sobbing, breathless, utterly wrecked and Hob's hand is giving out but he refuses to stop, to quit, not until—

Dream's body stiffens, convulses, bearing down on Hob's stuttering fingers in tremulous pulses and his voice has gone high, whistle-thin, and then he is gasping, tension falling out of him in a rush as he goes limp, breathing hard and heavy against the bonnet. Hob stills his aching hand at last, draws it out carefully and peels off the condom with his teeth, flings it aside. He'll clean up later. He stretches the cramping sensation from his hand and settles it lightly on Dream's still-heaving ribs, unable to keep from touching him even now that they're done.

"Alright, dove?" Hob asks, gently stroking up Dream's spine. "Can you move?" He gives a soft squeeze to their still-joined hands and is gratified to feel brief pressure in return. Dream turns his head, lifts it slightly; his eyes are wet, his hair sticking damply to his forehead and the grease smudge there; his mouth is open, a bit of drool still in the corner and Hob is helpless, gone, so fucking besotted and far too deeply attached for what this is. He dips in, kisses Dream with every soft emotion squirming captive in his chest and Dream just kisses him back, quiet, exhausted, willing.

"C'mere," Hob murmurs, straightening up, sitting back, leaning on the bonnet. He draws Dream after him, tucks him awkwardly up against his side and Dream allows it, nestles underneath his arm, still catching his breath.

This is the drawback to sex in the garage, Hob decides wryly; there is nowhere really suitable or comfortable for post-coital cuddles. He's seriously considering whether he can slide into the passenger seat of the Porsche with Dream in his lap when finally Dream stirs, lifts his head, shivers all over as he straightens and graces Hob with a small smile.

"I believe I will make use of your shop for all my future service needs," he says, primly, with a playful note underneath the exhaustion.

Hob laughs, hearty and full-bodied and joyous. "Glad to hear it," he says, when the laughter subsides. He's so utterly gone on this man, no matter how unlikely a pair they make, and he feels far too good right now to care about the future heartbreak he'll inevitably have to deal with.

He helps Dream down from the car then, steadies him on his feet and sees him around to the driver's seat where Dream first downs half the bottle of water he brought with him and then proceeds with re-dressing. Hob makes to get his coveralls pulled back up into place at that point but Dream stops him. "You promised to clean my spend off my car, I believe," he says, with that tone in his voice that makes Hob's insides go warm despite himself.

"Absolutely," he confirms, waiting, because there was clearly more forthcoming.

"I should like to see you with your trousers around your ankles and your arse on display while you do so." Dream blinks at him, all coquettish charm that is somehow enhanced by his disheveled and dirtied and half-dressed state. "If you are amenable, of course."

"I can do that for you," Hob agrees, delighted, even as he feels his face heat. It's not at all what he's used to but being ogled, being objectified—especially by his beautiful Dream—is no hardship, whatever his reason.

He finds a rag and the polish while Dream finishes putting himself back together and comes round the front of the Porsche again, and then Hob cleans up the bodily fluids on the bonnet, sweat and semen and lube and anything else, coveralls still around his ankles as requested. He wiggles his arse just a bit, since Dream is watching, and when that gets a pleased little sound out of Dream he does it a bit more, putting his whole body into the cleaning motions, bending at the waist and letting his hips swing in wide suggestive arcs.

"There," he says, finished, tossing the rag aside, and his arms are full of Dream as soon as he turns.

"Magnificent," Dream breathes against his mouth, and kisses him, warm and wet and thorough. Hob gives back as good as he gets, threads his hands into Dream's hair, and Dream's hands skate down his bare sides, around his hips and lower, seizing his arse cheeks and squeezing. His fingernails comb through the hair there and Hob squeaks, delighted, dick twitching with interest.

Dream breaks the kiss after only a few seconds. "There is so much more I want to do with you," he murmurs, kneading Hob's arse in slow sensual motions, "but I am spent. Well used. Sated, despite my lingering desires." He releases one cheek, moves to draw a fingertip along the slit of Hob's mostly-soft cock, where he surely encounters the tacky lube-laced remains of Hob's earlier orgasm. He brings that finger to his mouth, makes a show of licking it delicately before slipping it into his mouth to suck properly, and Hob whimpers.

"Dream, love, I meant what I said. Pop by anytime you need, I'll take care of you—"

"I believe you. After all, you have opted me into your loyalty program, yes? I must be sure to claim all of my associated benefits." He steps back, pulling out his phone and handing it to Hob with the contacts open. "Your number, please."

Hob types it in gladly, hits save, hands the phone back.

Dream cradles it close, a look on his face like he's savoring the addition of Hob's number, and glances up at Hob through his lashes. "I look forward to employing your services again, Hob Gadling. You are very much worth the trip."

"You just like me for my rugged filthiness," Hob says, a tease to keep his head in the right place—there's still no sense getting sentimental, after all, no matter the elated cartwheels his ego is doing at those words.

Dream regards him haughtily, one eyebrow lifting; the grease stains do nothing to diminish the expression. "I am quite certain I would enjoy you equally as much cleaned up and dressed up, that I might wine and dine you, take you home to my bed for an evening."

Hob almost, almost detects a hint of vulnerability threading the words and grins, a little pang of tenderness tugging helplessly behind his chest. "Think so, do you?"

"Would you like to test my theory?" There is something both hesitant and eager underneath his casual tone, and Hob's heart trips a little as that tug grows stronger.

"Why, Mr. Atelíotes, are you asking me out? On a proper date?"

"Perhaps." It's equal parts caginess and coy teasing, and Hob is forced to admit—again—that he's smitten despite himself.

"Well." He grins, dialing it up to his most charming. "Rumor has it I'm excellent company whether my dick's involved or not. And while a standard dinner date may not be as fantasy-worthy as getting plowed by the rough mechanic in his garage, I think we could still have a good time." He's showing his hand a bit, gently calling Dream on the fantasy fulfillment that has obviously been going on here, but what's life without a little risk? Especially when the potential reward is so very worth it?

"You are very confident of your own appeal," Dream replies, mouth turning up at one corner in a way that tips over from 'cautious' to 'amused'. And if Hob's not mistaken, there's a hint of pink blushing over his porcelain complexion under the filth clinging to his cheekbone.

He grins, spreads his arms, still stark naked with his coveralls around his ankles. "Am I wrong, though?"

"…No," Dream decides, after a long moment of deliberation, and Hob steps closer to him, dares to touch his face affectionately.

"Why don't you pick me up here at seven tomorrow night. Tell me exactly how posh I should dress, and we'll see where it goes?" He leans in, presses his lips softly to Dream's.

Dream hums into it, pleased, and palms his chest gently before pulling away. "Very well. Seven, tomorrow night. I will make us a reservation and text you the dress code."

Hob smiles, an effervescent sort of happiness bubbling up inside him. "Sounds perfect."

He finally puts his coveralls back in order after that, zipped just past the waist, and makes certain that the condoms are picked up and Dream gets his lube and his toy all collected before he shifts back into business mode. Dream is no more interested in cleaning his face before leaving today than he was yesterday so Hob moves on; he explains the repairs and runs Dream's credit card, then returns his keys and guides him in backing the Porsche out of the garage. Dream leans out the window once he's clear and Hob ducks down, delighted to get a final kiss.

"I'll be waiting to hear from you," he says, trying to temper the giddy anticipation he feels against the reality of their acquaintance, and Dream's soft smile turns sultry around the edges.

"I will be counting the hours until I see you again, Hob Gadling," he purrs, and drives off.

The way the Porsche jerks when he shifts after turning the corner makes Hob wince.

Maybe, if they do continue whatever this is beyond a single dinner date, maybe Hob can give him some tips on driving stick so he doesn't burn out the new clutch.

Then again, the more Dream abuses his poor car, the more excuse he'll have to invoke his 'loyalty rewards'.

And Hob doesn't think that's such a bad thing, in the end.

= Started: 5/4/24 Drafted: 9/17/24 Posted: 9/21/24

[splonk-fox]

The Psychology of The Dark Lord: An AvA Character Analysis

One of the most popular characters to ever be featured in the Animator vs. Animation universe is none other than The Dark Lord.

First being introduced in the penultimate episode of Season 1, the Dark Lord quickly gained prominence after his reintroduction in Season 2 a whole seven years later where, despite being (supposedly) killed off in that same season, quickly became a fan-favorite. Being used in many fanworks and a lot of fans clamoring to see his return to the series.

Yet, despite how popular he is, I feel like a good majority of the fandom don't really understand the Dark Lord's character. A lot of fans tend to depict him as things that he really isn't. Whether it be a caring friend to the Chosen One, or a tragic figure turned to villainy because of his creator's negligence, and while I have nothing wrong with deviating from canon a little bit when it comes to how you choose to portray characters, it did make me curious. Who is the Dark Lord, really. Well? To understand that. I think we must first understand where the Dark Lord's story started.

The Dark Lord first debuted in Animator vs. Animation 3. Created by the (at the time) villainous Alan Becker in order to destroy the Chosen One, he spends most of his screentime in this episode doing exactly that.

There's actually quite a lot we can learn about the Dark Lord from this first episode a lone. For starters, Dark likes destruction, a lot. The moment he sees Chosen the first thing he does is throw massive fireballs at him, destroying massive chunks of the the animation software they are both fighting on.

He also isn't above using the environment itself in order to give himself the upperhand, as seen by how he uses pieces of the animation program to attack Chosen throughout their one-on-one.

Another thing to note about Dark's fighting style is that he tends to work best when he has a group of minions assisting him. This is shown when he recruits the various Windows Applications to assist him in battle.

Generally speaking, Dark Lord is shown to be a pretty good improvisor, he has no trouble using the environment around him to his advantage along with coming up with plans to overwhelm Chosen on the fly as seen with the Windows Applications.

Aside from that, Dark is also a pretty big fan of going on the offensive. He immediately attacks the Chosen One without giving him a chance to really prepare himself, and he continues to try and overwhelm him while the latter mostly goes on the defensive.

This already shows a contrast between how Chosen and Dark operate. Aside from his introduction in Animator vs. Animation 2 and the beginning of Animator vs. Animation 3, Chosen is almost never the one to throw the first punch in any battle. More often than not he's the one responding to other characters' aggression.

What's more interesting than his fighting style however, is how Dark responds to his enemies getting the upperhand.

For context's sake, this is what happens after Chosen destroys the Minesweeper game Dark was trapped in using Firefox. We see here that the moment Dark is overwhelmed, he begins to cower in fear. It's scenes like this alongside other scenes that happen later in the series that make it very clear that Dark is only as strong as his ability to have the upperhand on his foes, the moment they get a leg up over him, he loses all fight and begins to cower.

We also get a taste of Dark's loyalty (or rather lack thereof) at the end of this episode. While we obviously don't know exactly what Chosen said to convince Dark to rebel against his creator, from an outsider's perspective all it really took for Dark to change sides was Chosen going "Hey you should stop fighting me and help beat the shit out of our creator instead." and him just going "okay."

You will see later on that Dark's willingness to forgo any loyalty to his allies is not exclusive to just Alan.

Now I should say, before anyone points this out, I'm aware that the popular consensus of Dark's change of heart at the end of Animator vs. Animation 3 had to do with the fact that Alan essentially left him to fend for himself against Chosen, and while this is true in a sense, there's no actual confirmation that this was Dark's reasoning.

Following Dark and Chosen's teamup, the two would destroy Alan's PC, escaping just in time before everything blows up.

I should note that, again, like with what we saw in Animator vs. Animation 3, the moment everything starts breaking, Dark just sort of freezes up and begins panicking while Chosen takes on a more proactive role, immediately running to the WIFI route and breaking it open for them to escape.

Yet again, Dark shows himself unable to handle situations where he isn't in control.

Regardless, one thing that can't be denied about the events of Animator vs. Animation 3 is that the destruction of Alan's PC clearly gave Dark a taste for destruction. Or should I say it gave him an even bigger taste in destroying things than he already had.

We learn through dates given by Animator vs. Animation 11 that following the events of Animator vs. Animation 3, Chosen and Dark went on a several month long rampage across the internet, destroying many websites and endangering countless lives in the process.

Now granted, the time they spent causing copious amount of destruction is actually a lot shorter than we first suspected. I and many other fans had the impression that everything we saw in the Flashback happened across the course of many years from 2011 to 2018, but this turned out not to be the case.

As of me writing this, the last known rampage the two went on together was in NewGrounds, which seemed to be by far the biggest of the bunch.

Prior to Animator vs. Animation 11, the only thing we really knew of the NewGrounds rampage was the single image you see above, but the rlease of that episode proved this incident to be far more devastating than we first suspected, it being the thing that would result in the death of Victim's partner Mitsi, leading to his fall to villainy.

Dark's overall screentime in Animator vs. Animation 11 is relatively short all things considered, only really appearing at the end. But it's also incredibly insightful when it comes to figuring out his character.

I mentioned this in my mini-analysis of the Chosen One's actions in Animator vs. Animation 11 (which you should totally check out by the way), but Dark's general disposition in this episode clearly shows off an aura of pride and arrogance.

Unlike Chosen whose emotions are... kind of impossible to read at least from a body language perspective, Dark clearly takes joy in the destruction he's causing and show's a general disregard for the lives of others as opposed to himself.

What Dark got up to after the NewGrounds rampage isn't exactly made clear, whether he continued destroying websites or settled down for awhile until 2018 when the events of Animator vs. Animation Season 2 would occur is unknown. What is known however is that while Chosen began having second thoughts about what they were doing, Dark only became more and more hellbent on the destruction of everything and everyone in sight.

When it comes down to it, both "The Flashback" and "The Showdown" are easily paint the clearest picture of the Dark Lord as a person.

Starting with The Flashback. We clearly see in this episode that following the destruction of Alan's PC, not only was Dark incredibly proud of his and Chosen's accomplishment, but that he had no intentions of stopping there.

We already know what happened with Chosen and Dark's rampage on the internet, now it's time we talk about what happens in the "present day" (or at least, the present day from an Animator vs. Animation Season 2 perspective)

In the time spent between their intial rampage and the events of Season 2, Dark shows off his technical prowess in the form of the ViraBots. Large, parasitic, spider-like entities who's sole purpose is to consume and destroy everything in sight. We see in the Showdown that Dark has direct control over everything that the ViraBots do and don't appear to have any free will of their own, the only ViraBot that seems to have any form of autonomy was the one he sent to Alan's PC, and even then it's possible that he was controlling that one as well seeing as he's seen working at one of his computers in the Showdown when Chosen first confronts him.

Keep in mind that this episode takes place directly after Chosen saved Alan's computer from the ViraBot, so I don't think it's out of the question to assume that this is what Dark has been up to during the events of those episodes.

Theories aside Dark continues to show off his pride in The Flashback where, after Chosen enters their shared home, he quickly shows excitement at his arrival before showing off the capabilities of the spines that the ViraBots use.

Clearly, Dark Lord has a lot of pride in his creations and wants Chosen to be excited too. He even goes as far as to send the very first one all the way back to their creator's PC for some good ol' revenge, likely thinking that Chosen would be more on board with his idea by sending it to the one person he should hate the most, oh how wrong he was.

Now, Dark's relationship with Chosen is a pretty big factor in his overall character and I do want to talk about that in more detail, but I first want to address the infamous "betrayal" scene.

To start things off simple, once again Dark shows his overall lack of genuine loyalty to his allies here by immediately dropping any and all friendliness with Chosen and attacking him with a fireball the moment the other shows objection to his plans. He shows very little hesitation in doing so and, despite what others may claim, was very clearly the aggressor in this situation. Chosen made no attempts to seriously harm Dark before Dark made attempts to seriously harm him.

The worst thing Chosen did at the beginning was throw Dark to the floor after the other refused to let up on sending the first ViraBot to Alan's computer, which in comparison to Dark's more destructive reaction, was overall pretty tame, and that's neglecting to point out that Chosen tried the passive approach at first and only got physical when Dark refused.

It's a hotly debated subject among the fandom as to who exactly betrayed who here, and quite frankly it doesn't really matter all that much, though for the sake of this analysis, let's explore the concept of "betrayal" and who between the two of them fits the definition more objectively.

According to Google, betrayal is defined as

"the action of betraying one's country, a group, or a person; treachery."

Now this alone doesn't really tell us anything about what it means to betray someone, luckily we have this definition from Vocabulary.com that gives us a more clear picture of what a betrayal actually is.

"Betrayal means "an act of deliberate disloyalty,"

So, at it's core betrayal means an act of deliberate disloyalty, which means that, unfortunately for Dark Lord defenders, means that he objectively fits the definition of betrayal more.

Chosen trying to stop Dark from releasing the ViraBot onto Alan's computer is not an act of disloyalty, it's merely him disagreeing with Dark's ideas, the closest you thing you can get to "disloyalty" from Chosen is him trying to shut down Dark's machine. Which really doesn't mean anything because as far as we know, Chosen never actually intended to double-cross Dark, he just wanted to stop him from sending a code-eating virus over to his creator's PC.

What can be classified as an act of deliberate disloyalty however is attacking your so-called best friend with a fucking fireball and immediately throwing hands with him before promptly doing the exact thing said best friend didn't want him doing in the first place. and I haven't even mentioned the ViraBands.

In case some of you didn't catch on from the episode, Dark Lord's ViraBands seem to have a built in feature that gives him immunity to Chosen's eye lasers. We see this in action when he quite literally surfs across them after he equips his first ViraBand.

My good friend @xjackjackx was the one to bring this to my attention and I feel it only strengthens my point, so big thanks to him for this little bit of trivia.

Regardless, this shows that even prior to this interaction, Dark had already gone out of his way to make a Wristband that was specifically designed to counter Chosen. Which either means he was planning on turning against him way sooner, or that he simply installed this as a keepsafe, likely having noticed how Chosen was beginning to have second thoughts about their destruction. In any case Dark clearly didn't trust Chosen enough to believe that his friend would stay by his side to not specifically invent a weapon that would give him the upperhand in a battle against him specifically.

This little big of trivia regarding the ViraBands' laser immunity actually does a lot to recontexualize their eventual falling out. Instead of Dark simply being excited to show Chosen his new invention and the latter not liking it, now it almost seems as if he was testing him. Testing him to see if Dark's plans to infest the Outernet with ViraBots was a step too far for Chosen. It would even explain why the example he showed of the ViraBots' capabilities was by destroying a globe, he was trying to test how far he could push Chosen before the other decided enough was enough.

It would also explain why Dark was so quick to resort to violence during their falling out, he had likely already seen this coming and had prepared himself for this exact interaction.

Now granted, a lot of this is speculation, and I'm not denying that, but I do at least think it's worth talking about, especially in regards to what is without a doubt the biggest point of contention with the Dark Lord's character...

His relationship with the Chosen One

This is definitely where opinions of Dark tend to differ the most. Either he and Chosen had a genuinely good relationship and that his actions in the Showdown were a product of him feeling both angry and betrayed by his former friend. Or conversely, that Dark never really cared much for Chosen to begin with. I've even seen some argue that Dark's actions are a result of his programming, Alan made him specifically to destroy the Chosen One after all, so perhaps this was simply him letting go.

Personally, I don't see much merit behind that interpretation, as far as we can tell Dark is completely unaffected by his programming and can basically do whatever the fuck he wants, unless you want to argue that he spent the past seven years holding back on his urges until Chosen conveniently decided to go against him.

Either way, that's not the point of this section. The point of this section is to analyze Chosen and Dark's relationship from as an objective level as humanly possible.

And... this is where I unfortunately have to throw in the towel, at least somewhat. The fact is we don't get enough of what Chosen and Dark's relationship was like beyond the snippets we see in the Flashback and Animator vs. Animation 11. What their relationship was like during the six years that followed their rampage is completely unknown and the best we can do is speculate. That said I do believe that by using context clues we could at least get a decent picture of what Chosen and Dark's relationship could've been like.

For starters, contrary to popular belief, it does seem like Dark had some sort of awareness of Chosen's change of heart. The mere existence of the ViraBands does enough to tell me that this was already something he had been suspecting long before their eventual falling out.

The second thing I should point out is that when it comes to the interactions that we do see, it seems kind of... one-sided. In the sense that while Dark is out here causing all of this destruction and enjoying it, Chosen does not, yet as we see in Animator vs. Animation 11 it seems like, at the beginning, Dark seemed to think he had a genuine comradery with Chosen, what with how he held up his hand for a high-five in that episode.

Generally speaking, I think Dark thought he had a positive relationship with Chosen until later down the line. At some point, he seemed to realize Chosen wasn't as enthusiastic about what they were doing as he thought, and so he created the ViraBands as a sort of keepsafe for if the other ever ends up turning against him.

With all this being said, what this does tell us is that Dark's habit of betraying his allies once it proves ideal is still very much a character trait of his long after he turned against his creator in Animator vs. Animation 3.

So do I think Dark just simply didn't care about Chosen? Ehhh, I think it's a little bit more complicated than that.

Something I haven't really gone into much detail on but I do think is important to Dark's character is the overall relationship he has with power.

I mentioned at the beginning of this analysis that Dark shows the most confidence when he has some form of power over his opponent.

In Animator vs. Animation 3, he confidently fights against Chosen because from a logical level, he has the advantage. He has Alan to help him fight Chosen, he also has the Windows Applications to help him fight. From his perspective he is the one with the most power in the situation.

During the NewGrounds rampage, Dark shows his power over his victims by destroying their homes and ending their lives, yet again he's in a position of power and shows himself to be incredibly prideful about it.

As for Season 2? Beyond being able to cause as much destruction as he possibly can, him attempting to sicc the ViraBots onto the rest of the Outernet is, again, a pretty big show of power.

When it comes to his fights with Chosen, Dark shows himself to be at his most agile and boastful once he equips the ViraBands and sends out the ViraBots.

See here that Dark has his arms out towards Alan's cursor as the ViraBots attack it, almost as if to say "come and get me". He is taunting him because he has the leg up on him, he has the power and he's exerting it over his enemies.

This is all to say, Dark absolutely loves to feel in control, perhaps out of some form of insecurity over losing his first fight to Chosen? Who knows, regardless it's pretty clear that Dark loves to feel strong. It's why I believe he made the ViraBots completely subservient to him, that way he can always have control.

And this all leads me back to Chosen.

I believe that, in a roundabout way, Dark did care about Chosen, but more in the sense that Chosen makes him feel powerful. With Chosen, the two were able to destroy Alan's PC, with Chosen, Dark was able to lay waste to many websites, leaving them in complete ruin.

Dark loves power, and Dark "loves" Chosen because he gives him that sense of power.

But what happens when the very person who gives him this sense of power was now actively trying to take it away? Well, you get what happens in Season 2, a Showdown.

Many have noted that Dark, for as brutal as he was with him, never actually tries to kill Chosen, he merely overwhelms him with the ViraBots before setting them off to ravage the internet while Chosen just sits and watches.

Now while you could argue this as simple circumstance, I think a more interesting way to look at it is that Dark is trying to prove a point to Chosen. He's trying to prove that he has the power and that Chosen should know better than to try and take that away from him.

It was never about eliminating Chosen, it was all about proving a point.

But in the end, in an ironic twist of fate, instead of proving that he was the strongest, Dark would end up having his ass handed to him by an Awakened Second Coming, the last thing he sees before being absolutely incinerated (as far as we know) is the green eyes of the stick figure who was so much stronger than he could ever be.

It's rather ironic that the very last thing Dark does before being absolutely pummeled by Second is try to run away. In the end, no matter how much power he attempts to give himself, no matter how confident he would like to make himself seem, Dark is ultimately just as much of a coward as he was all the way back in Animator vs. Animation 3. Because the only thing that truly scares him, is the idea of having absolutely no power or control over his own fate.

Ultimately, this is all my own personal interpretation of the Dark Lord's character. I honestly didn't expect this post to be as long as it was, but the more I dug deeper into the nuances of this character, the more surprised I was by just how interesting he actually was.

This is not to say I believe my way of interpreting Dark is the objectively correct one, but I do feel at least somewhat confident in the conclusions I have come to. I do hope that the upcoming mini-sodes Alan plans on making takes the time to shed some light on the finer details, like what exactly Chosen and Dark's relationship was actually like.

But until then, that'll be all folks! Thanks to everyone who stuck through this entire analysis, I know it was a bit of a lengthy read, but I appreciate it either way. Feel free to leave your own thoughts on this post via reblogs/comments, I would love to see what ya'll think of this analysis.

Anyways, I've yapped long enough. Again, thank you all for reading and I hope to bring you all more things like this in the near future.

[pointsplus]

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[rivkae-winters]

Zack Fair, Violence, and Tragedy

Over the last month or two I’ve seen several posts about the nature of Zack Fair’s tragedy and his seeming heel-toe-turn and thought I’d chime in. 

Also like last time: this is only my interpretation of canon, there is no one true analysis to take as gospel. If you disagree/differ in opinion/even just want to talk please reblog or dm! I enjoy talking to other people about this sort of thing, fandom is all about discussion after all!

While I agree with the sentiment I’ve seen going around that Zack’s relationship to violence plays a role there are other nuances and factors at play here. I’d argue that it’s more accurate to say that Zack is becoming more aware of personal and professional culture outside of SOLDIER and outside of both ShinRa’s constraining grip and Angeal’s attempts at protection. Even then it takes great personal tragedy caused by the inherent contradictions of ShinRa’s reality for him to realize that he has functionally been on the wrong side.  

Sure he’s not callous like Cloud is in the beginning of original and Remake, but he certainly isn’t horrified at his actions just because there is violence. I’d argue the violence of his actions isn’t the main horror to him in isolation. I’d argue that even the death that results from violence isn’t what the core of the issue is either. 

Zack’s hinging point is more his loyalty and his pride. What he does for other people and what he believes in and of himself. Specifically these things in conjunction with his desire to be a good person. 

The language of Pride, the non-localized direct translation of the word hokori or 誇り(JP CC Script), is what’s going to be used here rather than Honor. 

誇り | Hokori - To take pride in; To boast of

Definition Sources: 1, 2, 3

Just keep in mind that I’ve written this from as neutral a point of view as possible on the matter of pride since the Western perception definitively does not apply. To be proud is not a crime and it is not foolish it simply is. 

Zack initially places his pride in SOLDIER- in what being a SOLDIER means to him. In how being a SOLDIER is his and that they are his people and thus he lets ShinRa policies define how he frames his morality. Thus ShinRa defines good in Zack Fair’s life. 

Zack wants to be a hero. He wants to help people. He is trusting and kind and respectful to people consistently outside of the conflict of the mass desertion. Zack genuinely wants to be a good person and help other people, good or otherwise. He is led to believe by ShinRa propaganda that the best way to help people or to be anything meaningful in this world is through them. This is a baited trap that he falls into, Zack is prime prey this trap was intended to catch. 

He is angry at Genesis and horrified by Angeal, especially at the beginning, not for cruelty or violence or even really death… He is angry at them for their betrayal. Sure he is violent and angry in the instance he thinks Angeal has murdered his own mother, as with Genesis and his parents, but that does not define his antagonism, his hatred, his regret, his sense of justice with them at all. 

 Zack does not raise his sword at Genesis for the people of Banora, he raises his sword for SOLDIER. 

Zack understandably feels, and has been, betrayed. 

He is hurt and angry and alone in a way he’s never been since he got into the SOLDIER program. He falls deeper into the illusions of ShinRa for that reason, angry and hurting and grieving the life he had with people in it who will never return. There is a deep sense of nostalgia throughout Crisis Core in the sense of the word’s initial meaning: the pain of missing home. Specifically the homes we find in people.

Even as he believes in ShinRa's twisted reality Zack wants to help. He wants to protect those he cares for. Zack wants to be good. Unfortunately in Zack Fair’s life the undisputed definition of good is now written by the ShinRa Electric Power Corporation alone.

Then he meets Aerith. 

Suddenly ShinRa’s version of right and wrong have opposition but the control that ShinRa has over his life, total and complete as it is, prevents that from sinking in. Zack is perceptive though, around Aerith he is her version of good and then he has to go back to what equates to his phase of reality. A sanctuary is not safe, not truly, when watchers are peering in through the back door ready to drag you out by your feet if you misstep. 

Zack wants to be a man Aerith or anyone won’t be scared of. He wants to do that not because he is suddenly horrified at his own violence but rather in consideration of others. Zack is highly empathetic after all once he can see someone else’s perspective. He wants to be what Aerith wants, even if he doesn’t really and truly understand it yet, because he cares about her and cares about her opinion. He cares about her comfort. Zack still puts most of his pride within SOLDIER though. That means that Aerith’s morals cannot sink through his skin to his center, not like Angeal’s had. She makes him think but she is not shaping his mind, he is left to do that himself.

 Zack spends a lot of time questioning Angeal and being upset at and about him off screen even more than on screen. We don’t get a front row seat for all of it. The big takeaway is that Zack doesn’t shed Angeal’s morals that he’s taken on himself. He can’t after all, not with ShinRa only just seeming tarnished. ShinRa would need to rust and crumble fully before he actually can let them go. Before he can be free in his own mind.

ShinRa chips and rusts in an instant under Sephiroth’s hand. The last holdout crumbled in the fight of two victims of ShinRa and someone who will become one soon. ShinRa is no longer the defined of good, not after what Zack sees is the response to the Nibelheim Incident.

ShinRa not being good, worse even ShinRa being bad breaks the entire morality system. The illusions crack and Zack is forced to examine himself, his actions, and his biases in ways Aerith made him want to but that he couldn’t afford to truly indulge in. Even more that he was scared of self introspection in a sense, of the paradigm of his reality shifting even further. 

He eventually truly reframes his actions and has to reckon with them (and himself) at the end of the game, chapter 9 and onwards. It is only then that he actually LOOKS and is fully horrified by what he sees of himself. That horror only progresses as he fights for both his and Cloud’s lives. That horror only builds as he realizes he’s exactly the person who his girlfriend SHOULD be terrified of despite his best attempts- that he’s everything she was talking about. He’s everything she was talking about even after trying to change the way he acts around her. 

To abuse the innate metaphors: Zack Fair goes to Nibelheim, a well trained attack dog, still seeing relatively little wrong with fulfilling ShinRa’s orders. Zack is only then on the cusp of figuring out that he does not want to be there, that he is the antagonist of the planet’s (and Aerith’s) story unwittingly. 

Zack Fair leaves Nibelheim beaten. He tries to go back to the safety of what was once his home prior to ShinRa only to be waylaid. 

Zack Fair leaves Banora free and irrevocably changed. 

He is free in the sense that the illusions he held himself too are crumbling even more with knowledge that his demons are men too. He is free through the knowledge that he is one of those demons. , that he has been shaped to be one, and that good intentions pave a terribly walkable path to hell. 

Zack leaves with the knowledge that he was the monster in the closet. The knowledge that his sword was not just the executioner’s blade but the enforcer’s. The sword kept clean in favor of bloody hands and higher risks is now drowning in pools of it. Zack leaves with the knowledge that he never would have been truly free. 

Yet he is in the sense that he can choose- actually choose- what he wants, what he values. He chooses Aerith and he chooses Cloud as he has each time before. He chooses violence. It is something he knows and among what he is good at. It is not all he is but it is a tool he can use. 

He chooses to pay the price of freedom. 

Crisis Core is a tragedy and Zack and Genesis both are tragic figures at its center. Zack’s arc is angled to the viewer for maximum effect but Genesis’s does mirror it in a way just on an offset path already initiated. Sephiroth is also a tragic character, undeniably so. However structure wise his role is more murky given the way he has the ability to be the god waiting in the machine, a guaranteed victory or unavoidable altered trajectory should he choose to act, for most of the story. 

And that’s a large part of why I love Zack as a character, aside from things I’ve said before about what makes him such a good narrator. Zack is the unlucky prodigy at the center of a story about wars, abusers, connections, and perspectives. He wants to be good, he wants to be a person that helps. 

He can’t, not really, not in the way he wants. 

Crisis Core is a cautionary tale about exactly that going wrong and how anyone can be taken advantage of. 

[vermiculated]

books, Q1 2025

It became very important to me to complete my local romance bookstore's bingo challenge. No other real excuses.

The Outskirter's Secret - Rosemary Kirstein Before I started this, I saw a comment that the romance had been inexpertly added, and I thought, Bel and Rowan have too beguiling a bond to convincingly date, there's so many overlapping loyalties and such honor to Rowan's self-possession and Bel's expertise. And then Rowan meets a guy with whom she shares easygoing intimacy and slowly, slowly, betrayal of the self for the possibility of the future? A guy?

The Language of Power - Rosemary Kirstein Why yes, some of book four made more sense after I read book three. Picking the wizard programming bombs and hand in glove sexual treachery was a nourishing throwback. I wish I had read these books two decades ago so I could re-read them now and say, dang that was as good as I remembered!

The Courtship of Princess Leia - Dave Wolverton SHE is the princess-general, HE is the prince-treasure, oh and HE is a third guy, a smuggler, regular type guy you know the drill, THEY could have gotten married and lived in fabulous plenty, real twist posed for the revanchists. One of the best things about tie-in novels is that a meaningful, but not broadly-applicable invention like the Witches of Dathomir will be created, and thereafter everyone either has to use the genius matriarchy who meld with another genius matriarchy or explain why the universe doesn't let witches appear in glorious raiment.

Tikka Chance on Me - Suleikha Snyder SHE is waitressing at her parents' restaurant, HE brings his motorcycle gang to dinner, THEY do convincingly have reasons not to meet in public, which is a difficult trick to pull off when writing about adults who can generally go places alone.

40-Love - Olivia Dade SHE is controlling, HE is controlling, THEY have an excruciating meet-cute. Unusually the first-half banter in this one reads as two people who enjoy telling jokes to one another as they glide over their certainty that if they unwind it, they can both get back to a point where they hadn't made any self-defining mistakes, that is: authentically.

Ravished - Amanda Quick SHE is an archaeologist who prioritizes her needs and interests (cool bones) over everything else, HE is not very good about expressing his feelings but he is going to need to learn if he wants to keep up with her. THEY get married to clear title to her plesiosaur fossil and also convince everyone else that despite their zesty sexual chemistry, they won't get bored of one another. Zany spin-up of a Beauty and the Beast premise, which despite slacking in the second half (no! stay angry at your father forever! sell his horses and hurt his feelings!) is consistently rescued by the dinosaurs.

Capturing the Silken Thief - Jeannie Lin SHE is an artist living hand to mouth, HE is a student doing the same, THEY find the missing erotic scroll together and perhaps … learn that there are greater forces than money? jk no there aren't, they still have a happy ending.

My Fair Concubine - Jeannie Lin SHE is a teagirl who needs to get away from her life & job situation, HE has an incredible offer, THEY cultivate her manners and her beauty in a series of enjoyable makeover montages. Interestingly, the Pygmalion premise is substantially complicated by tenuous diplomatic relations, ethical obligations, and the risk of financial catastrophe. Every book should have so many events and such a clear thematic arc, nonetheless complicated by love. AND she dresses as a boy so they can go to the theater.

An Illicit Temptation - Jeannie Lin SHE is a faux princess, HE is a temporary bodyguard, THEY share a night of passion on the steppes.

The Moon in the Palace - Weina Dai Randel SHE is Wu Zetian, HE is honestly I did not even care I was just waiting for him to die, which he signally failed to do because apparently that's in the sequel? The sequel? There is a good simile about the blackheads on the emperor's chin appearing as flies clustering around his mouth.

The Hidden Blade - Sherry Thomas SHE trains to be responsible for cultivating her chi and jumping up the sides of buildings, HE believes himself to be responsible for everything that happens in his vicinity and can't do that, THEY do not even meet on the page in this one, he only sees her from a distance, look up look up look up. Sherry Thomas is the BOMB. The alternating points-of-view pay off as devastatingly here as they do in Sarah Moss's Signs for Lost Children.

The Cowboy Christmas Glow-Up - Suzy Langevin SHE is a driven makeup executive, HE is is a driven cowboy, THEY are the spares from their exes' cozy Christmas romances, which is a great concept. We are creatures of the polis, beings of brick and stone, and we don't have cute jobs.

How to Find a Princess - Alyssa Cole SHE is a beleaguered people-pleaser, SHE is largely ignorant of the effects she has on others, THEY have sex on a lifeboat. My book club had a really insightful discussion about attachment styles.

My Beautiful Enemy - Sherry Thomas SHE is a spy, HE is a spy, THEY have to fight the Centipede who flies a black flag. Two former gifted kids who go for broke and realize their true potential: I found the sex passionate and the light backstabbing in Uzbekistan to be enormously gratifying. The interpersonal dynamics are intricate and while I would have enjoyed more politics, I can go re-read Wolf Hall on my own time.

Dark Season - Joanna Lowell SHE is, for complicated reasons, obliged to pretend to be psychic, HE must, for complicated reasons, pretend to have killed his ex, THEY nearly have sex al fresco. Ella's management of her epilepsy and Isisdore's total nightmare of any social situation provide them both with the important Gothic motivation to never reveal anything. This banged, the interlude where they recognize the self in the other and nearly have sex in the park was perhaps the highlight, but Lowell has a keen eye for shame and really makes hay of the panopticon of pain and parties.

Undead and Unwed - Mary Janice Davidson SHE is a vampire, HE is a vampire, THEY live in Burnsville. This aged not as well as I might have hoped.

Red Dragon - Thomas Harris My cousin's husband recommended this to me. The best scenes are all of Will Graham, alone with the dead, and passed through with insight that he does not wish to have and cannot reject. The diligence, of how to be a person in the world when the world is vast and uncaring, is as closely-observed as Zola looking up and down the stairs of a Parisian tenement. I did not care for the shift in perspective.

Never Trust a Dead Man - Vivian Vande Velde I established for the nineteenth time that I don't enjoy YA, so I tried a middle grade novel. Sure can do that!

Asterios Polyp - David Mazzucchelli SHE is Penelope, HE is Odysseus, THEY love one another. Hana observed at her mirror is a really masterful splash page. Always a delight to see an artist's wikipedia headshot and see that they're drawing people on the order of what they see in the mirror.

Trumpet - Jackie Kay SHE is a widow, HE is her dead husband, THEY loved one another. The unusually effective formal choice to break the isolation of grief with third-person observations from the doctor, registrar, and so on, breaking out of the forward chronology of the novel, elevated this.

Golden Kamuy vol 17 - Satoru Noda trans. John Werry HE is a veteran of the Russo-Japanese War, HE is a veteran of the Russo-Japanese War, HE is a veteran of the Russo-Japanese War, HE is a veteran of the Russo-Japanese War, HE is a veteran of the Russo-Japanese War, HE is a veteran of the Russo-Japanese War, HE is a veteran of the Russo-Japanese War, HE died in the Russo-Japanese War.

Golden Kamuy vol 18 - Satoru Noda trans. John Werry SHE looks within herself to find the sustenance of her own truth. Asirpa has taken command of her father's vision in these chapters, and the dialectic is now, consistently, if his plan for the future is one that she will animate.

A Masc for Purim - Roz Alexander SHE is getting back out there and organizing her synagogue's Purim masquerade, SHE broke her heart and shows back up, THEY have sex on a desk.

The Astronaut and the Star - Jen Comfort SHE is driven, unfriendly, and deeply lonely, HE is learning how to be an astronaut from her and keeps fantasizing about her breasts, THEY have sex on a solar panel.

Justice League United vol 1 - Jeff Lemire et al In this one, they're Canadian! I enjoyed an Adam Strange appearance that's not about how he ruins everything for his disastrous love and divided loyalty. LOOKING AT YOU, TOM AND PATRICK.

The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake - Aimee Bender The unusual premise -- that lemon cake does taste like sadness -- developed into a much stranger theory of the punishments of self-knowledge: perfect self-awareness is a trap. It's only ever a trap. Schone seele is not a compliment.

Ladder of Years - Anne Tyler SHE is extremely unappreciated by her family and lights out from, yes, Baltimore, to build her own life. One day I will read an Anne Tyler novel under circumstances other than "it's available in ebook, and it's 12:15 am," I only have five or six of them left.

The American Way of Death Revisited - Jessica Mitford I thought I would read some nonfiction. I used to volunteer for a group that started in the wake of this book, so like Mount Fuji, either you're looking at it or you're standing on it.

Ever Faithful - Karen Barnett SHE is getting ready for college, earning a little money housekeeping and teaching Civilian Conservation Corps high school classes at Yellowstone, HE is in the CCC and can't read, THEY don't make that much of this, yet. I have read this twist one hundred times and I will read it again.

The Juniper Tree - Barbara Comyns SHE is a fairytale stepmother; HE is a fairytale father, THEY are basically irrelevant as a duo. Is it true that the better class of fairytale retellings obliterate the narrative to tell a more complicated version of a different story?

A Simple Heart - Gustave Flaubert trans. Charlotte Mandrell Blows the doors off, this translation eddied around the original like a stream over a rocky riverbed, and the locus amoenus of the altar with the parrot looking down is superb.

Golden Kamuy vol 19 - Satoru Noda trans. John Werry HE dies. While the series is about coalescing groups of rivals who share a goal, the first two hundred chapters moved the characters into social configurations so that they were broadly in agreement with their comrades. With Kiroranke's death, the various disagreements deepen and darken.

Cold Hand in Mine - Robert Aickman Mostly spooky rather than effective, like a canal-obsessed Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. "The Clock Watcher" was genuinely ugly, and there's some vivid nastiness throughout. Thanks to @mimaveil and @getlouder for the rec, this one dripped with vitriol.

A Dangerous Kind of Lady - Mia Vincy SHE feels thwarted and ignored, HE is responsible for some of that, THEY fix up a fake engagement. Oh are there real feelings involved? Is this gonna be the time that there aren't real feelings involved.

The Body in the Garden - Katherine Schellman SHE solves crime, HE tags along, THEY see a head roll. I wandered around my house objecting that she, a lady of means in Regency England, only has three servants in her house, -- and he has none at all! -- and I got so annoyed by this that I got to thinking about hiring fairs and patterns of modern employment, and then this book ended, more or less without my notice.

The Skin of Dreams - Raymond Queneau trans. Chris Clarke The word-making, in this novel about film-making, is absolutely on target. Really enjoyed the puns.

The Truth about Leo - Katie MacAlister SHE is self-serving, HE is inconsequential, THEY could have but did not have sex in the garden where she finds him without his memory. I did look up the 1807 Bombardment of Copenhagen, which serves as the background to these intensely unsympathetic characters, and thus I learned something about our world.

Loving a Lost Lord - Mary Jo Putney SHE needs a convenient excuse, HE has recently developed amnesia as a result of an industrial accident, THEY learn to love one another. This book set up appealing stakes -- she's a basically honest person who tells a huge lie! he believes he's living a lie by not regularly revealing his inmost self to strangers -- which it then carefully and comprehensively set to smolder until they collapsed.

Golden Kamuy vol 20 - Satoru Noda trans. John Werry HE is very handsome.

Golden Kamuy vol 21 - Satoru Noda trans. John Werry Asirpa's changing motivations, loyalty to bravery to honor and then back to loyalty, reach a novelistic pitch. The drama hinges on her willingness to do the right thing, and the extent to her understanding changes while her circumstance … also do, but in consistent ways, and so the change she wants really has to be within herself, it cannot be motivated by a useful outcome.

Golden Kamuy vol 22 - Satoru Noda trans. John Werry I, shuddering, begin to suspect that Asirpa and Sugimoto's relationship may evolve from "lone wolf and cub."

Golden Kamuy vol 23 - Satoru Noda trans. John Werry So too Botaro, so I am instantly relieved, as any time a concern is directly addressed in a work of hundreds of chapters, it is certain it will not be so easily resolved.

When the Sea Came Alive - Garrett Graff Your pal and mine Garrett has a very good ear for the quoteable and the lyrical. Exceptional coverage of pre-invasion, especially Exercise Tiger. I would have liked to read more about Juno.

The Phoenix Bride - Natasha Siegel SHE is grief-struck and not particularly seeking a way out of her depression, HE is too, THEY find a way out together. While I was personally hoping for more mouseskin beauty-marks and dresses so big a woman has to walk sideways when she goes through a door, I understand that the power of love is broadly more interesting. The telescope which enables the menage to go forward is an inspired bit of place-setting.

Bitter Spirits - Jenn Bennett SHE is actually a real psychic who can for-real talk to the dead, HE is a bootlegger who feels guilty about his dead, THEY fuck in a fancy hotel. That's what I like to see in a romance! Novel location & time period as well. I did enjoy, after Dark Season and the classic Unnatural Vice, that psychic abilities are real and true and this averts exactly zero of the forthcoming incidents.

Tycoon - Joanna Shupe SHE is a fix, HE is having problems, THEY have sex on a train, I am under the impression this bit is still funny.

The Crying Sisters - Mabel Seeley SHE gets stuck with his nonsense, HE has rather a lot of it, THEY have no idea how they have endangered themselves. Not as sparkling as The Listening House, but you have to go on vacation somewhere.

Golden Kamuy vol 24 - Satoru Noda trans. John Werry They meet Jack the Ripper.

Golden Kamuy vol 25 - Satoru Noda trans. John Werry As comics about Jack the Ripper go, I would say that this one addresses the "true" in "true crime" more honestly than the big dog, From Hell. There's no really tasteful coverage of murders so lurid they're effectively tropes for "something cosmically horrible happened here," and to endorse one theory or another about a murderer is only so interesting, and here, at least, it is surrounded by characters standing for other principles.

Golden Kamuy vol 26 - Satoru Noda trans. John Werry One of the parts of comics I enjoy most are schematics. Each volume begins with a recap, of course, and it is in these chapters that the specific ordering of who is standing where when becomes extraordinarily significant. Good maps.

Henry Henry - Allan Bratton HE is rich and troubled, HE is his boyfriend, HE is his cousin, HE is his father. Less reactionary St Aubyn, and tender in a diligent and quiet way, ultimately, as Hal simmers down the reactivity and improves (he could hardly get worse.) The most beautiful exchange in this book is Edward's revelation to Hal that, yes Richard was unkind, Henry is pitiable, and you cannot allow the dead to control you. Otherwise hot and mean. I enjoyed it hugely, vg.

Silence in the Library - Katharine Schellman SHE is a wealthy amateur detective; for a moment I thought HE was going to be a new character, the handsomest veteran of the late wars, instead HE is the same love interest from the previous book, a regular-handsome veteran of the late wars. Creepier about vulnerability than the first book in the series; the solution to the mystery is not well hidden, and like Richard Austin Freeman, the mechanics of how to talk to withholding witnesses and build usable evidence draw you on.

The Silence of the Lambs - Thomas Harris This was published in August 1988 and James Ellroy’s The Big Nowhere came out the next month, so due to the forward chronology of time, neither of these guys read the other guy’s book and thought: this would be great if Poor Doomed Danny Upshaw had a GAL PAL//man that wolverine was boss I wonder if it could retire and do word-finds. If you were not a particularly fast reader you could have spent all fall of '88 reading about the horrors of misogyny.

Fugitive Harbor - Cassie Miles SHE is a historian-architect-lighthouse keeper’s house restorer who is oppressed by small town mistrust and disfavor, HE stands wrongly accused of the death of his business partner, THEY go on a date to the total firetrap lighthouse and get to second base by the flaming light of the setting sun. 3/3 amnesia books, he doesn’t really even HAVE amnesia. In conclusion, a beloved fanfiction trope best left to fanfiction.

Hither Page - Cat Sebastian HE is a spy who is tiring without knowing of the skulking life yet does not have the capacity to explain that this is all he is and all he has ever seen for him, HE is a country doctor who agrees to help solve a murder due to what he believes is a personal weakness, THEY have a surprisingly warm and inventive discussion of their scars when they strip down. There is absolutely no ground for my fan theory that Leo is a secret German yet I cherish it.

The Missing Page - Cat Sebastian HE is still a spy who has less taste for the work than George Smiley ever did, HE is called for a reading of his grandfather’s will, THEY have to solve the question presented. Again zero evidence for, mounting evidence against my fan theory that Leo was born in Germany, sure, what am I some type of pushover.

Death at the Manor - Katharine Schellman SHE is investigating a suspicious death at a haunted house, HE is the new guy, THEY have a very-poorly concealed affair. The Gothic trimmings (hidden staircases, secret bequests) make this more successful than the previous entries in the series.

The Witness for the Dead - Katherine Addison HE is a beleaguered psychic facing severe interpersonal setbacks and suffering from the belief that he deserves the opprobrium he’s received, HE is a composer-librettist-manager whose opera company is just riven through by secrets, THEY provide solace to one another in a time of great trial. The ghosts (real live ghosts) are blinkered and frustrating, so too the clients: the interpretation of “what if Philip Marlowe got so low” is not altogether that dissimilar from anything Raymond Chandler wrote.

Green for Danger - Christianna Brand Like walking a French formal garden where the hedges are built of the introduction to the suspects, a premise embedded with clues, and interesting information about a world that vanished slightly later in the year this was published. I found this cute picture of a dog while I was looking up medical organization in the British Army.

The Kobayashi Maru - Julia Ecklar A choice framing device — Kirk, McCoy, Sulu, Chekov, and Scotty are all about to die in the silence of space, so they talk through their apparent failures in the no-win situation— for extensive backstory. Chekov’s FPS approach to command is an early work of video game thought, and Sulu’s solution to the titular problem has compelling thematic resonance as he grieves his great-grandfather’s death.

The Strangler Vine - MJ Carter Alex Wyndham read the audiobook and I got through two chapters before bagging that and reading it, but the part of this book which I most enjoyed was how he might be reading it to me. Bro kills at audiobooks, I’m sorry he hasn’t been on tv since HBO’s Rome, he kills at audiobooks.

Shutter - Ramona Emerson I’ll never grow weary of the device that while an investigator (in this, a crime scene photographer) can talk to the dead, the dead are not very reliable tellers of their own, or anyone’s, truths. In this, Rita has even less institutional support than Celehar in Witness for the Dead, and perseveres doggedly, even getting shot at one point and faking her death. I thought the reveal of the evil plan was less interesting than it could be so, in a partially-supported conclusion: she heard it from the dead. hey that guy could be dead.

Solomon’s Crown - Natasha Siegel HE is King of France, HE is Duke of Aquitaine, THEY never do have sex al fresco or in front of all of the mirrors at Poitiers, nevertheless I enjoyed this prequel to some of the events of The Lion in Winter. Anthony Hopkins Week, week three. Anthony Hopkins Month.

Death of Jezebel - Christianna Brand Almost pure form, except for the part I found most interesting. The romantic entanglements and double-crosses are very much enlivened by the participation of refugees from what is now Malaysia: many of the Crime Classics feature detective who served in France, very few are about the closed world of civilians who lived in the suddenly-former colonies. What if The Honorable Schoolboy had solved the crime instead of being about everything else in the world.

The Secret Lives of Country Gentlemen - KJ Charles HE is suddenly elevated to baronet and in figuring out what he wants to do with all his days lights upon continuing his father’s studies in nature, HE is the head of the smugglers around these parts and has to determine what he wants for himself, THEY have sex on a rotten log. Real return to form for Kimberly Jennifer, I enjoyed this much more having read the sequel and seen where many of the suggestions here develop into full-blown notions in the next book.

Golden Kamuy vol 27 - Satoru Noda trans. John Werry Oh THATS the Golden Kamuy??

Golden Kamuy vol 28 - Satoru Noda trans. John Werry Glad that Sugimoto was always like this. You wonder, in a story about colonialism, if the main character who had to get there on a boat, is recapitulating a desire for an undiminished world where he’s a moral arbiter. No he’s always been like this.

Golden Kamuy vol 29 - Satoru Noda trans. John Werry Star forts forever

Golden Kamuy vol 30 - Satoru Noda trans. John Werry No wait. COMBINED ARMS FOREVER.

Golden Kamuy vol 31 - Satoru Noda trans. John Werry Consistently the best part of this series have been the splash pages of scenery. I have loved marveling upon them. A great recommendation by @tautline-hitch thank you!

All the White Spaces - Ally Wilkes What if RF Scott had command of the Elephant Island boats, and also grief was a monster that wanted to kill kill kill. Do you think Roland Huntford has watched The Terror.

[yanderefarm]

RRARAAUIUGGGHHH college is kicking my ass rn, so I'm taking out some stress on the new boys. Have another of my visions of filth and depravity.

I need Crybaby's trainers to try a new method of 'Loyalty Reaffirmation'; Crybaby keeps getting itself damaged before missions, affect its performance.

I need a "Special" new affirmation program where they drug the fuck out of Crybaby and strap him in a Hypno Visor. It gets see pretty pink spirals, overlaid with pictures of you that flash at random intervals. Best of all, it even has a recording of your voice repeating mantras to Crybaby on repeat!

This program is never repeated as a Loyalty Affirmation module. Crybaby was left so mindless and unresponsive (to anyone but you) that the mission had to be delayed until you could come snap him out of it. By that point, though, Crybaby had ruined its uniform several times and was expienecing intense muscle spasms associated with physical aftershock.

Though, it's mission time and efficacy saw significant improvement when the program was offered as a 'Reward' for completing a mission. Future program initiation for Crybaby should be administered and monitored by its Handler directly.

(NEED that man mindless, writhing in ecstacy on the floor, drooling and babbling and cumming and-)

Anyways how r u?

-🎠

you always write such long delicious asks that make me wanna reply in kind and then like i start to write something and lose steam so ur asks end up in draft jail

ive received and started to answer all of ur asks they just sit.... in draft jail ....

anyway.... yeah this is hot. im imagining you like recording lines like "you're a good boy. good boys obey. good boys serve. being a good boy feels good doesn't it?" and you're like "guys I dont think this is gonna work the way you think it'll work" and they're like "how could it not work?"

and then crybaby is shaking as he cums just hearing you call him your good boy.

he cums so much he's sobbing and begging and everyone is like "bro......... hot but like... what a freak"

you're like "yeah i tried to warn you man"

and then at home you're like "awwww whos my good boy" teasing him because he comes so fast.

[cephydeluxe]

most Simeon/MC fics r kyute as hell, but a lot of them focus simeon's reason for "falling" (aka: disobeying father's rule of never extending a human's life by stealing the ring of light) as solely because he loves mc,

and like..... that's ok 😐 and all, but I feel like it kinda narrows simeon's character a bit ((but the following thoughts below r my interpretation so take this more as appreciation than a criticism of any other interpretations of simeon))

Simeon, regardless of whether or not it's reciprocated, still feels brotherly love for the brothers. They were once his brothers, and when it came time to wage war against them in the name of their Father, he refused to fight them and was demoted.

His love for his family made him refuse God's orders because the idea of harming his family was worse than the disapproval of God.

"ok well what does this have 2 do w the ring of light" shut up ill get 2 that >:(

I'm not gonna recap much cause my phone's at like 8% idgaf srry 😒. The only important parts is that mc's existence and pacts w the brothers is highly unstable and causing chaos in the three realms, and the only ways to fix it are to either kill lucifer with the night dagger, or to obtain the ring of light from the celestial realm.

So it's either trade lucifer's life for mc's, or steal the ring from micheal. The ring is immediately ruled out because demons can't enter the celestial realm, and it would probably (most definitely) cause a political shitstorm if a demon did steal it.

So the only option left is to kill lucifer, and right as mc is given the choice of killing him or themself, here comes Simeon, fresh from the celestial realm with the stolen ring of light in tow

Now, most fics tend to depict these events as simeon risking his status as archangel (an already unstable position given his refusal to fight during the war) as a huge romantic sacrifice because of his love for mc.

And that's,, cute ig but there is so many more things going on in that scene (2 me at least, solmare isn't really known 4 their writing 🫢)

Simeon's sacrifice in stealing the ring, in potentially incurring the wrath of God, in committing the same sin Lilith did to be disowned and even killed by their shared Father, and in risking his home he was raised and lived in for his entire life,

was both for his family that he has missed for thousands of years and for the person who healed them when he himself was unable to.

The TSL series (written by Simeon before the exchange program) are a retelling of the events between the avatars and mc. Even after they are cast out of heaven for treason and simeon is demoted for not wanting to hurt them, he still cares about them and wants the best for them, writing stories about them and their "Henry".

Even if the brothers treat him coldly and distantly, he still cares about them deeply enough that the prospect of killing lucifer? Their eldest brother?

The one who constantly does everything in his power to keep the rest of his family safe after the death of his sister?

The one who traded his loyalty to the demon prince after just landing after being thrown out of his home?

It's completely unthinkable to Simeon.

So that just leaves MC, then. The reincarnation of Lilith and the friend of all seven brothers, even after being violently killed by one of them,

(belphie, cough cough)

Still accepts all of them and keeps them together, and at this point in the story, is practically welcomed as a fixture in their messy yet tight-knit family.

For MC to sacrifice themself for the brothers would be to break them, to leave another unfillable void in their hearts like Lilith did so many years ago. The moment things would return to normal and Lucifer regained his memories would be devastating, knowing that yet again he failed to keep his family safe and whole.

Grief for MC's death would be felt far and wide, Simeon included.

Both outcomes of using the night dagger are unthinkable to Simeon, both causing unimaginable grief for everyone.

So the ring of light is all that remains.

It's a no-brainer, really.

Angels aren't restricted from the celestial realm, and if the ring is stolen by an angel, it has a way less likely chance of falling back on the devildom, on the fragile peace him and many others have worked so hard to facilitate between the three realms.

So what if the consequences will primarily fall upon Simeon alone, it matters little to the certain disaster either outcomes of wielding the night dagger will bring. Both Lucifer and MC will be unharmed, and the chaos will end.

But could you imagine the feelings he must have felt?

In the chamber where the ring of light is kept, having just snuck past Micheal, a twist in his gut from breaking the most basics of holy disciplines he has spent his entire life embodying, just staring at the ring of light in its container, the last momento of a father's love for his favorite child before disowning him.

It's a warning, a sign that tells Simeon that he will be next to fall if he takes this ring.

He takes it anyway, throwing his loyalty to God away if it means saving Lucifer, saving his family, saving the peace they've obtained without him.

A penance, maybe, for his inaction in the war, when perhaps one seraphim could've made a difference, if not win the war, then at least could've spared Lilith's life.

Can you imagine how he must have felt, standing in front of MC with the ring in his hands?

Lilith's sin that started the war wasn't just that she fell in love with a human, it was when she extended the life of her lover because of it. A clear defiance of Father's will, to negate written fate for the sake of her selfish love was what got her killed.

And here Simeon stands, staring into the eyes of her reincarnation as he offers them the ring that will save them, extend their life, and doom Simeon to walk the same path their angelic ancestor died on.

The ring is a promise, of the disownment that Simeon faces, of the pain he will endure in defying God's word as an angel (whose sole objective, down to the very fabric of his being, to the very purpose of his creation, is to embody and enforce), of the corruption of his very soul that paints his ivory feathers black.

It's also a promise of devotion, of commitment to this deadly sin, this selfless sacrifice, to the human he's fallen in love with, and to the family he longs to be close with again.

It's a vow, for all the atrocities he's willing to commit for the sake of protecting those he cherishes above all else.

It's a vow, for the deeply rooted love for the human, one who's very existence is the result of the tragic end of the angel who came before him and paved the doomed path he now walks.

Like Oroboros eating its tail, Simeon's love for the demon brothers and MC is never-ending and inevitable.

When asked, he says he wishes he could've fought with the brothers in the war, so he could "stay the same as them" and that the war weighed heavily on his mind from time to time.

Ever since he watched them be cast down to hell, he was destined to fall with them someday, too.

.

.

.

(christ, this got so out of hand, this is probably a huge mess to read, srry I'm not a writer or a media analyst, this is just ramblings of someone who's got some really dramatic art to make.) simeon 4ever bby <3

(also I could make a separate post from solomon's pov where he's willing to sacrifice a pact with lucifer, something he's worked for years for a chance, just to save MC, but im sleepy goodnight)

(most of this post was written while I was listening to elden ring ost, thank u bayle the dread for making this post way more dramatic than it needed to be)

[omegasgalaxyeyes]

Crosshair: Loyalty, Disability, and Purpose

My essay about Crosshair that I’m posting here in case anyone else is crazy like me 😁

In Aftermath, we see Crosshair being the only member of the bad batch who attempts to obey Order 66. He doesn't ask why. He simply goes to do it. Because it’s an order and that is, after all, what good soldiers do. Hunter and the rest of the batch don't follow it because their inhibitor chips aren't forcing them to do so, which leads us to the fact that Crosshair is the only one with a working inhibitor chip.

But is that all?

What if the clones didn't have the chips? Would they be hesitant to follow orders? Some, most definitely. We see Captain Rex resisting the order because he won’t hurt his friend. If he wasn't being forced to do so, he likely would have questioned the order. If not in doubt, then in confusion.

But not all Jedi are like Ashoka Tano. Not all clone troopers have close relationships with their Jedi commanders. Not all Jedi respect clones the way Ashoka does. If the clones didn't have a personal roadblock that made them question the order, what would stop them from doing it?

The Jedi were accused of treason against the Senate, against what the clones were made and conditioned to fight for. If they'd been given an order by the Chancellor himself, and their one sole purpose was to serve, why would they have doubts about carrying it out? The use of the inhibitor chips was only to ensure the completion in the case that there was someone like Rex who would interfere with the mission.

This brings me back to my point. Crosshair. He had no reason to believe that Caleb or any of the Jedi were innocent because he was told they weren't. Treason was a justification for mass murder. Yes, he was already following the order without reason, but it was because he didn't need one. It has been so deeply ingrained in him that he was created to do what he was told, that this is only another order.

The rest of the batch goes against it because their chips don't work, but also because of their individualism. Hunter would not kill a child without good reason and explanation. Tech is made uncomfortable with the fact that his commanding officers were so easily executed without question. They are all suspicious of this new empire.

Only Crosshair doesn't seem to see a difference in serving an Empire as opposed to the Republic. The batch is wary that the Empire does not value human life. They are severely offended and shocked when live rounds are used on them during a practice demonstration. Crosshair doesn't see any difference because although the Republic never did anything so extreme as they are witnessing now, he is aware that they didn't care anymore for him than the Empire does.

But the bad batch believes that what the Empire is doing is wrong. It goes against their personal beliefs which happen to align well with each other. All except Crosshair, who has a different set of individual beliefs.

But Crosshair does have the ability to disobey orders and do things in his own way. After his chip is removed or damaged, he still stays with the Empire. He doesn't suddenly wake up and realize he was in the wrong. He still believes that doing what he’s told is the right thing to do because his actions are only partly caused by programming. The rest is conditioning and the set code of beliefs he was given and always went with unquestioningly.

One thing that does bother Crosshair is the fact that he was abandoned by his brothers. Like all clones, he values loyalty and brotherhood, even if it’s only with his squad and not clones as a whole.

He labels the batch as traitors and tries to eliminate them on orders but in the season one finale he tries to persuade them to join him. He’s more concerned that they betrayed him than the Empire. He doesn't want to be without his brothers, he wants them by his side in the way he believes would be best.

Crosshair doesn't seem to care about anyone who isn't his one of brothers, and eventually Omega. We see this with Hunter in a way, too. He’s hesitant to help others when it means his team might be in danger, like with Hera in Rescue on Ryloth. The difference between them is that Crosshair is with the Empire and therefore in the wrong, while Hunter solely serves his family and always ends up doing “the right thing” in the end.

But what is the right thing?

We might say doing the right thing is putting other people above yourself and helping those in need even if it means putting yourself and your own interests at risk. It means not hurting others, but rather protecting them and being part of a bigger picture.

But Crosshair is part of a bigger picture. He’s playing a part in the Empire’s efforts to make the galaxy a better place. Crosshair has never had freedom, so being free isn't something that means much to him. And it doesn't seem like a better option. Crosshair is given food, a place to sleep, and security. A life on the run doesn't ensure any of those things. Being with the Empire is comfortable and safe.

Crosshair wants his brothers to see things the way he does. He tries to convince him, but just like him, they won't be persuaded. In the S1 finale, Crosshair kills imperials carelessly. He doesn't care about them, he cares about Hunter. The Empire isn't the most important thing in the world to him. This brings me to the main point I wanted to make with this analysis.

Crosshair doesn't only do what he's told. He does what he has to. He kills who he has to. Because Crosshair is, above all things, a weapon. Before he’s a soldier, a man, a brother, he’s a weapon. I think that’s one part of why he saves Omega’s life, someone who he didn't care about and even tried to kill. I believe it wouldn't truly, deeply, sit right with him had he let Omega die then, but on a more surface level, he sees a shot needs to be taken, and he does what he has always done. He shoots.

Crosshair’s whole life was built around him being a weapon. He’s given a mission, he completes it, and he goes back to Kamino where he’s isolated. The only thing that differed in his routine with the Empire was that he was completely alone. But even with the batch, Crosshair was isolated the most.

Snipers are often isolated from the rest of their force on a battlefield. They may need to spend hours or even days at a time alone in their spots. They need incredible focus. Remembering your mission and not how you're feeling is crucial. He can't mess up, he can’t easily switch his position, because he can't afford to.

Crosshair's role dehumanizes him and impacts his sense of self in a way that the other clones don't feel. They're all dehumanized in the sense that they were created to serve and die, but they are soldiers, and they take great pride in being protectors. Crosshair is less of a good soldier and more of a good shot.

Crosshair is extremely closed off to his emotions. Cody says that clones and droids are different because clones make their own choices, but Crosshair isn't much different than a droid. He doesn't feel much different than a droid. He calculates angles, spots targets, aligns his scope and pulls the trigger, and it's done. No remorse, no questions, no feeling. It was only a mission.

The thing that makes him different is that he’s much better than a droid. And that he has needs but those are only things like eating and sleeping. Nothing that matters. He doesn't need to think or feel because his purpose is to be a weapon. All a weapon needs is regular upkeep. They don't need brothers or love. They need handlers and use. That’s all he's ever known and that's why he stays.

Appeals to brotherhood, love, and morals don't mean anything. It’s not about who Crosshair is but rather what he is. What he’s made for. The batch, Omega, Cody, they find things that are bigger than themselves to fight for. Crosshair isn’t fighting because of what it means to him. He’s doing it because he doesn't know any other way.

Other clones like Cody and Howzer may feel the same. They don't know what else to do or where to go if not with the Empire. But both of them question the Empire because they feel what is going on isn't right. It no longer adheres to what they believe to be right and good. So they leave.

Crosshair doesn't let himself think about right or wrong. After all, weapons don't have to. Even when Cody tells him they have a choice, there’s an inkling of changing tides, but Crosshair still doesn't understand. And Cody doesn't understand. Because Cody sees himself as a man and Crosshair sees himself as a sniper.

But Crosshair doesn't have a complete loss of feelings. He just doesn't let himself feel them deeply. He feels betrayed by his brothers because he loves them. He watches them fly away, leaving him stranded on that platform, and he wishes they chose to stay. But he doesn't go with them because he serves no purpose as a fugitive. He has no place in their squad if he’s not their sniper.

While stranded, he thinks and probably tells himself that the only thing he needs is food, water, and shelter. But he needs them. He misses them. In the wise words of Noah Kahan, he misses being alone when it didn't mean being alone.

Now we get to my favorite part. Mayday.

In season two we see Crosshair finding out how little the Empire cares about him. Rampart quite literally mocks him to his face and Crosshair takes it. It isn't enough to make him want to leave. Because he’s used to that. He never thought he was cared for; he thought he was useful. It isn't until The Outpost that he accepts something is not right.

Again, he’s mocked to his face by Lieutenant Nolan. He’s referred to as used equipment. He goes on this mission with little thought about it. And then he meets Mayday. The first things he sees are that Mayday is not being taken care of by the Empire and that he lost his brothers. He sees Mayday assert himself, not accepting the dehumanizing way that the Lieutenant treats him. He pushes back against the man he's serving under because he sees himself as a human rather than an asset.

Crosshair stepping on that mine is personally my favorite part because he makes a mistake. And good soldiers, good weapons, aren't supposed to make mistakes. But he does, and he jeopardizes their mission because of it. And Mayday saves him. Despite not knowing him, despite only barely knowing if it would work, he tries. Mayday values Crosshair’s life.

Mayday notably says that he doesn't feel like carrying Crosshair’s body back to the outpost. He was joking around the whole time, but he would have genuinely felt bad if anything had happened to Crosshair. Because that’s his brother. He would have carried him back even though Crosshair made it known that he wouldn't do the same because Mayday puts brotherhood above everything else. His loyalty lies not with the Empire, not with the Republic, but with the people who have always given it back.

Crosshair could choose not to think about this, he could continue on with their mission, but that's the thing about Mayday. He makes Crosshair question things. He challenges what he believes in a way that has yet to happen.

But why is Mayday different?

Unlike the batch, unlike Cody and Howzer, Mayday does what he’s supposed to. Mayday never left or disobeyed, yet he was treated poorly. He wasn't taken care of. When he finds out he’s lost men over gear for people meant to replace the clones, he's angry. To Crosshair, you do what you're told, a mission’s a mission, and it means nothing. But seeing that they were being so easily disregarded by the Empire, the thing Crosshair is so dedicated to, and seeing Mayday get angry about it, challenged his perspective.

And unlike all the others he’s witnessed pushing back against the Empire, Mayday doesn't leave Crosshair behind. He's steadfastly loyal, he proves that his brothers, the other clones, matter to him more than anything else. He cares in a way the Empire doesn't. He cares in the way Crosshair does. Crosshair carries Mayday through the snow, all the way back to the outpost because he knows Mayday would return the favor. Loyalty means something to him, that’s true loyalty.

Crosshair sees that Mayday isn't important in the Empire’s eyes. At the end of this episode, they see ships flying in because Nolan required it, yet Mayday and his men spent so long with nothing. Because they didn't matter. Crosshair knows that he doesn't matter either, that he can put everything he has into the Empire’s purpose and they will always see him as expendable. Nolan doesn't even bother helping Mayday because it makes no difference in the Empire’s bigger picture if he lives or dies.

Crosshair does what Mayday would do, he carries him through a snowstorm so he can be, at the very least, laid to rest with some semblance of dignity. Mayday, who gave his entire life to the same cause Crosshair fought for. Crosshair thought Mayday deserved that much. He thought he deserved respect.

The Empire doesn't care or value anyone that much. Certainly, not clones whose only purpose is to serve as equipment. Nolan refuses to help Mayday, with Crosshair resorting to begging. He has to watch a good soldier, a good man, a brother die. He feels confused, betrayed, and angry. He feels everything.

And he wants answers. He wants to know why he’s being thrown away once again. Why Hunter, and Tech, and Wrecker, and Cody all see something that he can't. Why Mayday had to die when he was a good soldier who followed orders. Why he wasn't worthy of help and care. Why Crosshair isn't worthy.

Then he shoots his commanding officer. Definitely not what good soldiers or good weapons do. It’s not what he's supposed to do. But he's angry, he's hurt, and it comes out strong and vicious. He’s defending both Mayday’s honor as well as his own. Mayday didn't deserve the way he was treated, and neither did he.

I think seeing that Mayday’s loyalty lay so firmly with his brothers brought to the surface the love that Crosshair has for his own brothers as well as his sense of community with clones. Something he didn't seem to value before. Crosshair never fit in with the regs. Most of them didn't offer him a place in their community. The regs treated the bad batch the way many people treat clones. But Mayday didn't do that. He offered Crosshair more safety and community than the Empire ever did.

That’s one part of the shift in Crosshair’s values. He’s not loyal to whoever needs him. He’s loyal to the people who are loyal to him. People who truly care about him. We see this again with Omega. He states his reason for going back to Tantiss to rescue her is because she didn't leave him behind when she could have. They care for and protect each other mutually. Like Mayday and his men did. Unlike the Empire.

So Crosshair defies the Empire and then what? They do what you do to equipment that no longer serves its purpose. Strip it for parts and see what’s still useful. Crosshair is subjected to torture, reduced to Hemlock’s subject. He doesn't feel like a tool, a piece of equipment. He feels like a body, a human, that feels physical and emotional pain.

He’s facing the crushing consequences of his actions. He was the one who betrayed his brothers, he didn't follow them when they offered, he followed the Empire blindly. He, like Cody said, made choices and now has to live with them. He has to deal with the repercussions of his actions. And he believes he deserves it.

He tells Omega to leave Tantiss without him. He thinks he deserves to be a prisoner. He thinks he deserves the pain he’s receiving. And how could he possibly face his brothers with the shame and guilt he’s harboring?

We also know he learns about Tech while he’s a prisoner, presumably from Omega but Hemlock knows so he could have found out from him. Regardless, that adds grief to his already intense emotions. Knowing Tech died trying to rescue him would only further his self-hatred and belief that he deserves what’s happening to him. He’s being punished for his choices.

But Omega won't leave him for the same reason Tech wouldn't. Because he’s their brother. Omega has a strong sense of determination when it comes to helping and protecting others. She won't let Crosshair stay behind. She refuses. Her strength and sense of community, much like Mayday’s, are important to discovering his own.

When he returns to his team, his shame and pride inhibit him from making peace. Hunter is wary of him and Crosshair’s one saving grace is a strong wall of pride. There's not much he can do to save face right now. He’s backed into a corner by Hunter's hostility, so he bites back.

Crosshair is ashamed of what he’s done and Hunter is pointing it out because he wants answers, but Crosshair just wants to forget about it. He deflects when Hunter asks about it directly, jabbing at Hunter’s own weaknesses. When Echo greets them and Crosshair quips “What? No hug for me?” it's because he’s ashamed of what he’s done and feels like an outcast in the group. He makes the situation into a joke, a fight, anything that isn't actually dealing with what he’s feeling.

Hunter and Crosshair fight together, they protect each other, and Hunter's trust in Crosshair is reinstilled. He later goes on to defend Crosshair to the other clones when they distrust him. They're loyal to each other. This reparation gives Crosshair another chance at the thing he so deeply seeks. Purpose.

He has something new to fight for. Because even in a preferable situation, even away from the Empire with his brothers who truly care about him, a weapon doesn't simply stop being a weapon. That's what he was made for, trained for, meant to be. His new purpose is fighting for his family.

Except now he has another problem. His tremors. He can't shoot anymore which defeats his whole purpose of existing at all. In his own eyes, anyway. He’s a sniper. It’s what he was made for. If he can't do what he’s supposed to, he’s useless and therefore worthless.

His tremors aren't caused by any physical ailments. AZI and Omega suggest that it’s mental, something Crosshair refuses to believe. Still, he agrees to try Omega's meditation. Maybe he believes it a little. It seems he has PTSD judging by his reactions when Tantiss is mentioned. Whether that’s the sole cause of his tremors or not is up to us to guess.

But it is psychological. Crosshair’s mental state is affecting his hand. Whatever happened on Tantiss, everything that happened with the Empire, the deep hatred he has for himself, all play a part. We see Crosshair getting frustrated, but more subtly we get his fear. He’s scared of what’s happening to him and what it means for his foreseeable future.

Will he ever be able to shoot again? What will happen if he can't? Is he worthless now? What place does he have in this team, in any team, if he can't do what he was made for? Crosshair’s life has been built around his ability to aim and pull a trigger. Who is he without that?

Crosshair has to face the reality of his abilities being compromised. He fears he will become nothing more than a burden, someone of no use that the rest of the team has to put up with. Or worse, they don't put up with him and he gets abandoned once again.

When we're traumatized by an experience, we become afraid it’s going to happen again despite how irrational the thought may be. Crosshair has been treated as expendable, thrown away when no longer of use, and the punishment for not being able to fulfill his duties was severe.

Of course, the batch wouldn't do it. We see this straight away in the Clone Wars. Echo feels like he doesn't belong because of his disability. One he wasn't born with and had to suddenly learn to live with. Just like Crosshair. Hunter offers him a place with them. Because they don't care about Echo’s use, they care that he has a home where he doesn't need to question whether or not he belongs.

Hunter tells Omega to help out Crosshair because he’s concerned. He wants to help. Omega wants to help. We see only the very beginnings of his healing journey but this shows us that he can learn to adapt and grow with this new disability. It may never go away. His PTSD, tremors, anxiety, depression, etc, might always be there but this gives us hope. And leaves the ending open for our determination.

We do see that Crosshair doesn't believe he’s worth all this. He didn't believe he was worth being saved in the first place. In the finale, he suggests he infiltrates the base alone, his reasoning being that they won't all make it out so their best option is to send the one who doesn't matter. He says he deserves this.

He also doesn't care what happens to himself. Especially now that he can't shoot properly. He thinks they don't need him anymore. His way of trying to convince them to let him go alone is by saying Omega needs the two of them. He doesn't believe anyone needs him.

Yes, his grief, shame, and insecurity are weighing heavily on him while making this decision, but Crosshair’s worth is directly tied to how much people can make use of him. He doesn't believe he brings anything to the table or could possibly be of worth the them. He doesn't understand that the reason Omega and the others need him is simply because they love him.

Lastly, I think Crosshair is ready to sacrifice himself because he believes it’s the only way to truly atone for what he’s done. All his mistakes could be made up for if he does this. He’s apologizing to them by giving up his life to keep his family safe.

Hunter and Wrecker refuse this plan, saying Omega needs all of them and that they have to do it together. We can imagine this continues later on in Crosshair’s life. Hunter, Wrecker, and Omega need Crosshair even if he never picked up a gun again for the rest of his life. They just want him around.

On Pabu, they don't have to be soldiers anymore. They get to live their lives however they want. Crosshair can take care of himself. He can do what he's always been doing, what needs to be done. Not fighting, but healing. Not for the Empire, not for his brothers, for himself. Crosshair can do whatever he wants. He can help Echo with missions, he can go treasure hunting with Phee, he can live a domestic life helping Omega with math and braiding her hair.

Even with one hand, or a shaky one, he can still practice shooting, he can draw, write, cook. Not to make due, but to accept and grow with, pun intended, the hand he’s been given.

Which brings me to the last thing I want to say. Whether or not you liked him losing his hand, let's talk about what it means. To me, it shows what I've been talking about this whole time. Crosshair isn't just a sniper. He isn't just a gun. He’s a lot more than what his hand can do. Losing it shows us that he’s worth more than what he believes he is. He saves the day without a hand. Notably, he does it by relying on Hunter, but that's not what’s most important.

What’s most important is that Crosshair’s worth is much more than being a good shot. His life has meaning because he has people who he loves and who love him. He has the potential to be something besides a soldier. He has freedom and safety and love, and he doesn't have to give away a thing for it. He has the chance to reconcile with himself. To find out what makes life worth living.

Crosshair isn't his hands or his abilities. He isn't anything except who he wants to be. The person he wants to be. The one he becomes through healing, love, and self-kindness.

In summary, Crosshair is beautiful and I love him.

[autistichrlady]

The Cover Letter Toolbox

Or, how to write cover letters while autistic.

One of the autistic traits I have is difficulties with what's called "expressive language" - I don't think in words, and putting my thoughts into words takes a lot of time and effort. For me, going straight from a blank page to a full sentence that makes sense is difficult, and making that sentence sound professional is even harder. So I came up with a way to avoid starting from a blank page. This is what I do instead.

When I've read a job posting and decided I want to apply, I start by making a list of qualifications and things from the job posting that I have or can do, just a list of words or short phrases like

Customer service experience Scheduling Microsoft Office

Then I go under each of those list items and make it into a full sentence.

Customer service experience: I have five years of experience in customer service.

Once I have the most basic version of that sentence, I think about details that I can add to it. The point of a cover letter is two things-

to summarize the things from your resume that are relevant to this job, so the person doing the hiring doesn't have to read the whole thing and connect the dots themselves.

to add details and explain things that might not be in your resume.

So some details that I want to add here are that I didn't just talk to customers myself for five years, for part of that time I was a manager responsible for training other people to give good customer service. And I was good at that- we always got good results on our customer surveys, and we also always hit our goals for stuff like signing people up for the loyalty program. So now I've got a second sentence:

As the [job title] with [company], I trained our entire team on how to best serve our customers and helped ensure that my location had the best results in the region for customer loyalty.

Another thing from the job posting that I want to address with this bit is that the job I'm applying for involves helping people over the phone a lot. So I want them to know that even though my experience is in a different environment (retail instead of an office front desk) I did still have to answer phone calls and help people over the phone. This is the type of detail that's not in my resume and that someone wouldn't necessarily guess, but I really did answer a lot of phone calls working in retail.

I also added a little bit of Flavor, so it's not just assisting customers, it's "welcoming, respectful assistance". Yes, I did try like five different words there before picking these ones. Usually I look back to the job posting and pick something that relates to what they've said they want. But I find it a lot easier to figure out details like this after I have the basic structure.

This is what I ended up with for my Bit About Customer Service:

I have five years of experience in customer service, providing welcoming, respectful assistance to customers over the phone and in person. As the [job title] with [company], I trained our entire team on how to best serve our customers and helped ensure that my location had the best results in the region for customer loyalty.

If I really wanted to add a lot of detail, I'd put numbers in here- how big "our entire team" was, what the "best results" were and how we were measuring it. But the position I'm applying for is with a small organization, and probably doesn't involve measuring sales in the same way, so I decided not to add that. If I was applying for another retail job, I'd include those things.

I repeat this same process with each of the qualifications from my list, copy-paste each of those bits in order of how important they are, and then I need an opening and a closing. For the opening, I start by stating the obvious.

Dear hiring manager, I am applying for/interested in/etc. [this position]

and then I apply my school-essay-writing techniques and do a one-sentence preview of the qualifications I just got done writing about.

I am confident I have the customer service skills, computer expertise and organized mindset to excel in this position.

For the closing, this job posting specifically mentioned putting your contact information in your cover letter, so I did that, and then I like to thank them for looking at my application because that's a nice polite note to end on.

I can be reached at [contact info]. Thank you for taking the time to consider my application, and I look forward to hearing from you. [signature]

Extra Bonus Brownie Points:

Go to their company website and add something that shows you have looked at their company website. Like yes, the main reason you're applying for this job is it's available and you need money, but besides that, there's gotta be something at least a little interesting about this company that might be cool if you get to work for them. In this case they had a whole big section about charities they donate to and how they get involved in their local community, so I added this right before my closing:

[this company's] contributions to charities such as [things from their website] are truly admirable. I've grown to love [this city] since moving here, and I would be honored to be part of an organization that does so much to contribute to the community.

Now wait before you go here's the important part:

I don't delete any of this stuff.

I copy/paste out the finished bits into a new document to send to the recruiter, but I keep that list of qualifications with sentences under each one.

Now I have a document with a list of qualifications I have and nice professional-sounding descriptions of those qualifications, and for the next cover letter I write, I can reuse them if they're relevant, so I don't have to redo all this work of making words make sense. If I decide to change them a little bit for the next job, I'll keep the new version next to the old one under the same heading. I also keep my openings and closings.

I used to have a big file like this but I apparently didn't back it up before my old computer died, so I'm having to re-create it, but you guys this saves me so much time I would otherwise spend staring at a blinking cursor. And it's easier than saving the full finished cover letter and trying to pull sentences out of it, because all the Bits are already organized by topic. (And it lowers the risk of accidentally copy-pasting the wrong company's name.)

I <3 my cover letter workbox.