#Can't be arsed to put the names here this time

[most-calm-revice-and-geats-fan]

Stickmen violence but Kamen Rider (PT. 3)

No, I didn't forget about drawing, I just have terrible motivation right now-

I hope I can get back to them soon and try branch out more as I draw, meme, etc, but here we go, some more images of Kamen Rider characters being silly, committing acts of violence. Hopefully a bit more better quality this time-

Parts 1 and 2 can be found here-

Credit goes to the original artists! I love these funny little images-

[blingblong55]

Wicked affair- John Price NSFW

Based on a request:  Hi i love your work and if its okay can you make a cheating one? i have a kink for that. Price please! we have an affair with him or something. pur husband is on the phone or something like that. thank you! ---- F!Reader, MDNI, 18+, P-in-V, unprotected!sex, cheating/cuckolding ----

Spending nights in hotel rooms with him was always so much better. You're still the most breathtaking sight he's ever seen, even if he doesn't voice it as often as he'd like.

John grips your hips, pulling you back until you feel his cock pressed firmly against your arse. "I’ve missed you," he murmurs, bending down to kiss your neck, his beard brushing against your skin. "Tell me you’ve missed me too, darling."

One hand supports his weight while the other roams freely. He adjusts himself, holding you steady with one hand as he lines himself up—and then your phone buzzes harshly on the nightstand. Fuck, it must be him. "Your idiot of a husband always calls at the worst times. You should answer him, love," he says, picking up the phone and putting it on speaker with a smirk. Always a risk-taker. "Love, I'm home. I was wondering if you'd be done with your work?" your husband says. If only he knew.

Leaning closer, Price's lips brush your ear. "Go ahead, answer him, love." He gives your arse a sharp slap before kissing the back of your neck, getting ready to take you properly. You bite your lip. "I’m still at work, I... I need to get some paperwork done," you tell your husband, glancing back at John.

John scoffs under his breath, his eyes darkening with lust as he looks over your curves. If only he knew. "You're not at work. You're here with me," he murmurs, his accent thick and husky. "And you're about to get fucked like you've always wanted." Price doesn't wait for a response, thrusting forward and burying himself inside you with one smooth motion. A low groan escapes him at the sensation, his eyes nearly rolling back in pleasure. God, you feel incredible.

John sets a brutal pace, his hips snapping against your arse as he pounds into you. One hand tangles in your hair, tugging your head back as he leans down to growl in your ear. "Tell him the truth, love. Tell him who you're really with," he demands, punctuating each word with a particularly hard thrust. "I want to hear you say it."

The phone on the bed crackles with static, your husband's voice barely audible over the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your muffled moans.

"...Y/N? Are you still there? What's going on?"

"I... I can’t," you whisper, your eyes pleading with John as you try to maintain control. You moan and cover your mouth. "Nothing, sweetheart, I’m just busy with this," you say to your husband. Can't? John’s brows furrow, his grip on your hips tightening. "You can, and you will," he growls, his pace never faltering as he continues to thrust into your willing body. "Tell him about us. Tell him how good I make you feel."

Price's other hand reaches up to cup your breast, kneading the soft flesh and tweaking your nipple between his fingers. He leans down again, his beard scratching against your neck as he bites and sucks at the sensitive skin. "He deserves to know the truth, doesn’t he?" John murmurs, his voice a low rumble in your ear. "About how his wife is fucking another man. About how she’s screaming my name instead of his."

As if to emphasize his point, John reaches down and starts rubbing your clit, his fingers circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts. "Go on, love. Tell him," he demands, his accent thick and commanding.

“Baby...” you moan, shutting your eyes. “I... fuck,” you whimper. “I’m with someone...” Now we're talking. John grins wolfishly, his eyes gleaming with triumph and lust as he feels your body tense beneath him. "That’s it, love. Tell him the truth," he praises, his voice a low, rumbling purr in your ear. "Tell him about the man who's fucking you so much better than he ever could."

Price punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, burying himself to the hilt inside you. He can feel your walls fluttering around him and can hear the breathless moans spilling from your lips as he works you closer and closer to the edge.

"He's going to hear every fucking sound, isn’t he?" John growls, his hand speeding up on your clit. "Every moan, every scream, every begging plea. And he’s going to know that it’s not for him." The phone on the bed crackles with static, your husband’s voice barely audible over the sounds of your bodies moving together.

"...What? What do you mean you’re with someone?"

"John," you pause and moan, "I'm with John," you finally confess in a river of moans. 

Fuck, yes. John’s eyes darken with lust, his grip on your hips tightening as he pounds into you harder, faster. "That’s mygirl," he growls, his accent thick and heavy with desire. "Tell him how good it feels. Tell him how much you love my cock inside you."

Price can feel his release building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in his gut with each thrust. But he holds back, determined to make you fall apart first. "He's going to hear you come undone, isn’t he?" John murmurs, his fingers working your clit with expert precision. "He's going to know that it’s all for me, that I’m the one who makes you scream." Your strangled moans are louder the harder he pounds into you. 

The phone on the bed continues to crackle, your husband’s voice barely audible over the sounds of your pleasure.

His hips snapping against your arse as he pounds into you with renewed vigour. Price reaches for the phone, bringing it closer so your husband can hear every breathless moan and desperate whimper spilling from your lips. "Listen to her, mate," John snarls, his accent thick and heavy with lust. "Listen to how she’s screaming my name, how she’s begging for more. She belongs to me now, and there’s nothing you can do about it."

With that, John brings the phone even closer, letting your husband hear the wet, obscene sounds of your coupling. He can feel his release approaching, the tension in his gut reaching its breaking point.

"Come for me, love," he demands, his fingers working your clit frantically. "Let him hear you scream my name as you come undone." Oh, fuck yes. John growls as he feels your walls clench around him, your juices coating his cock as you come undone. His release follows soon after, his hips stuttering as he buries himself deep inside you, emptying himself with a guttural groan.

"That’s it, love. Scream my name for everyone to hear," he pants, his chest heaving as he collapses against your back. "Let them all know who you belong to now." Price stays buried inside you for a long moment, savouring the feeling of your body still trembling around him. He reaches up to brush your hair away from your face, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder.

"You did so well, love," he murmurs, his accent soft and gentle. "I'm proud of you." Slowly, John pulls out of you and rolls onto his back, bringing you with him so you’re sprawled across his chest. He reaches for the discarded phone, thumbing the button to end the call with your husband.

"That’s done, then," he says, his voice a low rumble as he strokes your hair. "No more hiding, no more lies. From now on, you’re mine, and I’m yours." John smiles softly, his thumb still stroking your hair as you hum and close your eyes. He can feel your body relaxing against his, your breathing slowly evening out as the afterglow of your lovemaking settles over you both.

"Rest now, love," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You’ve earned it." Price’s mind wanders as he holds you close, thinking about what the future might hold for you both. He knows leaving your husband won’t be easy, but he’s determined to stand by your side through whatever comes next.

For now, though, he’s content to simply hold you, to savour the feeling of your warm body pressed against his. The rest can wait until morning.

Tags: @liyanahelena @ghostslillady @juneonhoth @Simonssweetgirl @nellsbobells @coralwitchdreamland @nobodys-coffee @sae1kie @anonymuslydumb @goldenmclaren @moonsua1 @frazie99 @saoirse06 @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @enarien @luvecarson @ikohniik @strawberrychita @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky–bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @pinkblossomsworld @kaoyamamegami @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @iruzias @sleepyycatt @noodlezz-bedo @trinthealternate @vampsquerade @azkza @VampyTheGoth

[orcasoul]

Joel Miller Headcanons:

Joel's And Your First Time

Warnings: Smut (under 18's DNI), fluff.

Word Count: 1,703

Joel can't remember the last time he felt a connection this strongly with a woman. He finds himself lost in your enigmatic pull, noticing every little thing about you, from the way your nose scrunches when you giggle, how you become so passionate when talking about a subject close to your heart, the way you hold yourself with grace, your playful and witty personality and how your natural beauty radiates without even having to try.

Sometimes he can't fathom how someone like you could want someone like him, yet here you both are, seven months into your relationship. That word still sound so strange to Joel. In a brutal world of cordyceps and lawlessness he'd never even wanted a romantic relationship. For the longest time he was fine with no strings attached hookups, never daring to invest any emotion in a woman who could be torn away in the blink of an eye. It was better that way.

But then you waltzed into his life and pulled the rug from under his feet, sending his walls crashing to the ground. A few months of flirting, subtle gestures and stolen glances was all it took before the two of you confessed your mutual love for one another and you've both been inseparable ever since, even gaining the nickname 'The Lovebirds' by some of Jackson's residents.

Sitting on the setee, watching your eyes sparkle in the light of the fireplace as you tell Joel yet another story of your life 'Before', he realises how much he hangs on your every word, the sweet lilt of your voice is something he'll never be able to get enough of. Setting his whisky glass on your table, Joel turns back to you observing how you suddenly seem nervous. "You okay?'" Joel asks, his voice soft with concern. "Yeah... um... I'm good," you answer sheepishly, then put your glass next to his.

Before Joel knows what's happening, you're straddling his lap, kissing him deeply and sensually, your hands delicately gripping his hair, while his own find their way to your waist, pulling you tight against his body. Your sudden moan into his mouth electrifies Joel's entire body, arousal coursing it's way south. "Joel?..." his name leaves your lips in a breathless whisper, as you pull away slightly, noses still touching. "Mmhmm," Joel hums, lost in the haze of you. "I want you to make love to me." Oh, that cleared his foggy mind!

He pulls his head back, quickly, assessing your expression to see if it's what you really want, if maybe you'd just let it slip out without thinking, but all he can see is love and want written all over your face. "Are you sure?" he asks, just to be thorough, "I told you I don't mind waiting." Hell, he'd wait until the end of time if that's what it took just to be with you. He knows that to you, sex is a very emotional and intimate act, never being one for hookups and he respects the hell out of that. After all, everyone is different.

He let's out a deep groan as you rub your core over his very obvious hard-on. "I want you, Joel. I want all of you," you purr seductively into his ear, "I'm ready, take me to bed, baby." Joel chuckles at the little yelp you give as he grips both of your arse cheeks and effortlessly stands up, carrying you up the stairs with ease. He gently sets you down on the bed, lifting your chin to look ardently in to your eyes. "You really want this?" "I do," you smile up at him with the biggest heart eyes, "I want to feel the man I love inside me."

Joel wastes no time in pulling your top off, followed by your bra, all of your clothes, until you are fully naked before him and what a fucking sight you are! "So beautiful," Joel gushes as he takes in the sight of utter perfection. Moments later, his own clothes are a discarded pile on the floor and he watches as your roving eyes greedily drink him in, staring at his hardened shaft, while biting your bottom lip. You eagerly pull Joel on top of you as you lay back on the bed. Hands wander, seeking out bare flesh as you both fully explore each other's bodies for the first time.

Joel trails wet, languid kisses down you neck, feeling your pulse quicken under his tounge, until he reaches your breasts. He gently latches his mouth to your breast, swirling his tounge around your pebbled nipple. A grin spreads over his face as you arch your chest upwards, seeking more of his mouth. Joel releases your nipple with a 'pop' and a devilish smirk. "I'm gonna take good care of you, sweetheart," he croons while slowly moving his fingers to your soft folds. "So wet already," he marvels, "All this for me, huh?"

His fingers then find your clit and he starts to rub in circles, gradually building speed, resulting in a spectacle he'll never forget; Your head tipped back, mouth in the shape of an 'o', your chest heaving and the melody of your euphoric cry as he draws the first orgasm from your trembling body. He allows you to catch your breath for a minute, enjoying your blissed out appearance. "Think you can give me another one, sweetheart?" he asks in a sultry tone. "Mmhmm...," you nod, deliriously.

Joel's thick fingers slide down to your entrance, carefully parting your lips. Slowly and delicately, he pushes one finger into the warmth of your tunnel, followed by another, stroking your spongy spot until he can tell you're close. He kisses down your belly as your moans grow louder, finally settling on your clit. Between pumping his fingers in and out and licking and sucking your sensitive bundle, he has turned you into a writhing mess beneath him, griping his hair and bucking up into his mouth.

Every obscene moan, pant and wail coming from you is music to Joel's ears, causing him to smile against your sex. He's the one making you feel this good. With a shudder of your thighs and a scream of his name, your second orgasm crashes over you, coating him in your juices. Joel laps at your release like a man parched, the sweetest nectar to ever grace his tastebuds. "You still with me, darling?" Joel teases as he moves up your body to kiss you, giving you a taste of your own release. "Yeah... Joel, that was.. wow!" you pant as you begin to come back down from your high.

Joel's painfully hard cock presses into your hip, a testament to just how much he wants you. "Your turn," you smirk as you reach down, wrapping your soft hand around his girth, slowly pumping, while spreading a bead of pre cum over his glistening head. Joel knows he won't last much longer if you keep this up. Reaching down to lightly grab your hand, he stops your ministrations. "Darling, I'm not gonna last much longer like this and I want to feel your pussy around my cock, now," he groans. " Then take it," you purr, nipping his neck, "It's all yours."

Good god! He feels ready to blow his load from your words alone. Lining himself up at your entrance, Joel gazes into your eyes as he slowly sinks into your heat, causing both of you to gasp as he bottoms out. Your arms and legs wrap around his body, holding him in place, both of you remaining still to relish in this new intimacy. After a few moments you whine, "Fuck me, Joel!", your hand grabbing his arse cheek. He dosen't need to be told twice! Pulling out to the tip, he pushes himself back in, with just the right amount of force to begin with, thrusting harder and faster as your moans become louder and your nails dig into his shoulders. "oh, Joel! Right there, baby!"

He knows there'll be little crescent shapes over his back for a few days. He'll wear them as a badge of honour! "Fuck, sweetheart! So...ugh... tight,... ugh... so perfect!" He's getting close now, wishing it would never end; The velvety soft warmth enveloping his dick, squeezing and pulsing with every thrust is intoxicating, heightening all of his senses. The downright sinful sounds of wet skin slapping against wet skin, accompanied with your cry of his name may just be Joel's new favourite sounds.

Joel reaches between your bodies to circle your clit once again, determined to draw one last orgasm from you before he reaches his own climax. It only takes several seconds before you are clamping down on his cock, thighs gripping him like a vice, voice shuddering as you gush all over his pubic area. Chasing his own release, Joel asks, "where do you want me?" "On my... tits," you reply breathlessly. Another few thrusts and Joel quickly pulls out, painting your heaving chest in thick ropes of hot cum.

He flops down beside you as you both catch your breath. Pressing his forehead to yours and gently stroking your arm, Joel whispers, "You okay, darling? Wasn't too rough?" The blissfully fucked out look on your face alone tells Joel you're okay. "I'm great, baby. More than great!" Joel gazes adoringly at you while you cup his cheek in one hand. "That was everything I hoped it would be. How was it for you?" Joel smiles broadly, "Fucking amazing, sweet girl!" He presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your nose, then to your lips.

"Be right back," he says as he heads to the bathroom. Moments later he returns with a warm, wet towel and tenderly cleans you up. Laying back down beside you, he takes you in his arms, bringing your head to rest on his chest as you both bask in the afterglow of your actions. Joel can tell by your slow, even breathes that you've fallen alseep. He takes this moment to appreciate everything about you, his heart aching with how much love he holds for you. You are IT for him, The One, and you were absolutely worth waiting for.

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep3 Musings - Daniel & the Talamasca (SPOILERS)

I can see what the reviewers meant when they complained about the Talamasca & Daniel.

We start off with Daniel nervous AF, tryna keep tabs on all the mindscrewy shenanigans (at the sushi restaurant on his lunchbreak or whatever).

Today's... etcetc Cell phones, google -- Daniel, your handwriting effing sucks. San Francisco. Polynesian Mary's Playboy magazines as a doorstop? doorstep? |CLAUDIA| Mary's cab. Coke...etcetc. Alice. They'll come for me and Kate next--you bet your arse they will! XD THIS TIME I WON'T SAVE YOUR LIFE

He draws an arrow from Save Your Life up to Playboy--I assume cuz those are two incidents with Armand that took place in SanFran?

I really like the Omakase bit--

About how many risks Daniel's subjecting himself to under the whims of these vampires--but also about Daniel's hubris/arrogance breaking the rules of engagement by thinking he has any say over what they do and what he gets out of it, by stepping onto their turf. If you can't take the heat, GTFO their kitchen.

I'm only just now noticing the foreshadowed titles of Dan's books. 🤦 Burning & Blood--AMC swears they're hilarious.

OK, Raglan's been stalking Daniel's career just like Louis did. So my early suspicion about Daniel breaking the NDA was right.

Which is SO EFFING STUPID OF HIM. They're gonna find out! Loumand's literally drawing out this giant tragedy about what happens when vampires--Armand, specifically--are LIED to, and you're gonna pull this mess on them!? You're not even being SUBTLE!

AGREEMENT.pdf--Daniel, you in danger girl.

Raglan, stop tryna gas Dan up b4 they put him off commission permanently. He's no body-snatching psychic CROOK like you.

Get this nosey bish offa my dang screen.

Oof, right in the Devil's Minion feels. U_U

O__O WOAH!? OK, so aside from Dan (played by EB, a white Jew, along with JK) throwing shade at Caucasian European Israelis (which we been knew), he's implying that Armand & Louis might be persons of interest in the UAE by the Israeli gov't & assassins, esp. cuz of their ties to powerful people. But it's funny cuz that's the exact same thing Lou asked about him.

So Dan's telling the sushi patrons there's Israeli spies/assassins crawling around Dubai--STOP, b4 you get that place John Wick'd! XD

Not MI6. 😭 I said JOHN WICK, not JAMES BOND. XD

Raglan's gone full rogue then--if he was still working for the Talamasca he'd have darn near unlimited funds--they got that dirty TEMPLAR money. 💰💰💰

Yeah, and they don't actually call the Talamasca by name in the ep itself--only in the Insider interviews the producers give.

Daniel, why TF are you talking SO EFFING LOUD, when Raglan's whispering, tryna act like he's on the phone NOT talking to you in case y'all ARE being bugged. 🤦 SUBTLETY, my guy. What kinda investigative journalist are you?

I'm starting to suspect they're not gonna do the rockstar!Lestat, and instead this stupid Great Conversion's gonna be what wakes up Akasha/Amel, when their blood/consciousness gets stretched way too thin with all these new vamps being made.

To attempt an interview...? I believe that. We already know Marius & Lestat stalked Talamasca members for decades upon decades. Ain't no way NO vampire ever tried getting close to humans & talk about their lives to someone out of loneliness or something. Esp. the ones not attached to the European covens & all their stupid Great Laws.

Rest in Preternaturalism, Raymond Gallant.

BLENDERS! XD But this is THE most Anne Ricean answer imaginable, cuz everyone lost their ish when she had her vamps flying around with GPS-trackable cellphones in their pockets as they KILLED people. Rookie mistake. 😂

Armand was on a cellphone in S01E07, and he is LITERALLY married to his iPad, so PLEASE, sir. 🙄

There's Santiago's COMPLICIT speech coming back. Ain't no moral high-ground here!

And I figured Armand/AMC was gonna pin it on AMC!Lestat, and his jaded version the Savage Garden.

Armand says technology distracts humans from vampire crimes, but what's distracting vampires from psychic/Talamasca crimes, huh?

ISTG these are the laziest vamps I've ever seen; they care so much about their privacy & security, but aren't reading Dan's mind at all? I hope one of them just casually name-drops Raglan or catches Daniel in the act or something.

Raglan said Daniel's laptop was "comically vulnerable," and uploads a bunch of data files on it from the Bibliotheca Talamasca bestiary/archives--WHY? To help show Daniel he's helpful & trustworthy?

RJ: Omakase? Louis: The conversation was easy and flirtatious.... Armand: And combative. Louis: And combative, yes. Daniel: Arguing as foreplay. RJ: Peruse at your leisure.

I hate this effing show. 🙇🙇🙇

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

How do you think Ghost would react if Jade was to ever get injured?? Or if he saw it happen that is.

Hello anon! ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ ⁠ᴥ⁠•̥⁠`⁠ʔ

(this is gonna be so fuxking long I'm sorry it turned into an angsty fic at the end my apologies)

So it depends on the severity of the injury:

If it's a light injury where Jade can still fight and walk, he'd ask her if she's alright, then patches her up afterwards with a light convo.

--------

If Jade got hurt in a way that disabled her mobility (but not that lethal), he'd go apeshit at first, "Fuck! Midget you okay?!" and when she goes, "I'm good! Can't say I can move much--" he'd HAUL HER ARSE to his arms to safety while clearing the area nearby from enemies.

Then when he patches her up, he'd be MAD at her first, "Don't bloody fucking do that again, you hear me?!" "Do what?" "Get fucking shot!" "That's beyond my control and you know that."

"You could've ducked down and avoided the line of fire." "Beanpole." "Thank fuck you only got shot on the side." "Ghost." "If you got hurt in other places and I couldn't get to you in time you'd be a fucking goner right about now!" "SIMON!"

When he heard his first name coming out of her mouth, he finally stopped and looked at her. "...Sorry. I just--" "Hey, I'm still here. See? I'm okay. I'm still talking to you." "Just... Be careful. Please."

"Okay." She'd smile, "I promise I'll be careful." Then he'd go back to be the mean Ghost, "Next time you're injured I'm not carrying you again." "Wait. I thought I'm a midget? Carrying me should be an easy fit, right?" "I'm still not carrying you."

-----------

If it's lethal, where she loses consciousness (say, her shoulder got hit and it's quite dangerously close to her chest), Ghost would shout profanities before requesting medic in the shakiest voice ever into the radio. After he cleared the place from enemies, Ghost would crawl to Jade's side, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Midget. Midget, talk to me." He needed to make sure she's not disoriented and getting oxygen into her brain. But when she only mumbled weakly, "Ghost..." His panic only grew.

(Oh my Lord I have an idea bear with me on this one)

As his shaky hands tried to put pressure on the wound, he kept trying to talk to her, "Stay with me, Jade. Help is coming, you hear me? Just stay with me." Despite his efforts, Ghost saw her green eyes started to lose focus. "Hey. Hey hey hey look at me. You'll be alright. Stay with it. It's nothing. Just look at me."

Chuckling painfully at his panicked voice, the woman on the ground smiled, "There's... Not much to look at... You know."

Ghost didn't know what washed over him, but he lifted one of his hands and swiftly removed his skull mask, revealing the most worried face of Simon Riley ever. His black warpaint around his eyes started to fade from sweat, his hair a complete mess, and his big, brown eyes full of concern and distress, staring down at her. "There. Better now?"

Despite the searing pain on her shoulder, Jade grinned, "...Better."

Just after saying that word, her eyes started to unfocus again, almost losing consciousness at the loss of blood. Ghost kept calling her name, and at some point, she swore she heard 'Lottie!' from him before she closed her eyes.

Soap and Gaz was there to accompany Ghost as they wait on Jade's surgery. He hid his face with the palm of his hands as he couldn't breathe with the mask on. Usually he finds comfort beneath the mask, but suddenly it was torturingly suffocating, so he chose not to wear it.

When Jade's finally out of surgery, the three men looked at her laying figure on the bed. However, despite Soap's attempt to make him stay by her side, Ghost decided to walk away into a secluded area and took out his anger by having a very shaky and panicked smoking session.

Why didn't he protect her? How did the enemy get to her? He should've stayed close to her. What if she didn't make it? What if she died? A thousand what ifs filled his restless mind. His mind was so loud, too fucking loud.

He sat there for hours and hours, before he heard Gaz's voice calling him on the side. "Ghost, thought you'd be here."

The lieutenant only sat in silence as his eyes was glued to the ground, looking at the 5 burned cigs.

"She's awake, Lt., Soap's with her. Kept asking for you." The sergeant spoke, but Ghost didn't move. Gaz only sighed, before saying again, "She told me to tell you, 'Don't smoke too much. It's bad for your lungs.'"

Upon hearing that, the man finally looked up at his teammate, and Gaz could definitely tell that tears had been running down his superior officer's cheek with the faded streams of his black warpaint.

Wearing his mask again, Ghost walked to Jade's room with Gaz as he found Soap conversing with the woman herself. She's still laid on the bed, face pale, and red hair so messy it entangled with each other, yet her face was as cheerful as always as she trade jokes with the sergeant.

When both of them saw Ghost, Soap stood up and left the room along with Gaz, leaving the both of them alone.

The first one to speak was the injured woman. "Are you okay? I can't see your face, but the paint around your eyes are almost gone." She gestured at his covered face.

Ghost only sighed as he sat on where Soap was earlier, "How about you focus on yourself for once, Midget. How're you doin'?"

"Well, I'm so high on pain killers right now, so It's mostly numb, but other than that I'm good." She answered tiredly. "Now your turn. Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry, Jade."

"Wh- why are you sorry?"

"I should've took control of the situation. If we knew it was an ambush you would not be here." Ghost spoke to her.

"But I am here, Ghost." He cut him off before the voices inside his head took over. "I'm still here. It was an ambush. We couldn't do anything about it. We held them off, we both are here, and that's what matters." Jade looked straight at his eyes, not realising that her hands already held his.

For a moment they only sat there with their hands gripping firmly together, looking at each other, taking in the fact that the ambush was over, and that they're here. Alive.

Ghost took a deep breath, gently pulling her hand away from his. "Still, I'm sorry I wasn't here. I was... Taking a cig."

Jade smiled, "No worries. You're here now, aren't you?"

"And you can take off the mask here, Ghost. It's just me."

Considering that, Ghost nodded and took off his skull mask.

"Oof. You look like a mess." Jade responded upon seeing his face.

"Have you looked at a mirror lately?" Both warriors laughed at each other, conversing at how Jade heard someone call her first name, but Ghost answered with "You must be hearing things."

After some time, Jade yawned in front of him.

"You should sleep."

"Yeah, maybe I should..." She answered tiredly, before shifting herself into a sleeping position.

But realizing the situation at hand, Jade said again, "Are you gonna stare at me or..."

"I'll go."

As Ghost was about to stand up, he felt her hand grabbed his.

"Can you please stay?"

Seeing her puppy eyes and that tone of voice, Ghost sat back down, "...Fine. Sleep."

The next day, she woke up with him sleeping soundly under the mask on the chair beside her bed.

-------

OOOOKAYYY I WENT OVERBOARD WITH THAT BUT YEAH.

Hope you like this self-indulgent impromptu fic! (⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠)

[mrsarnasdelicious]

Soldier Up, Pony Boy

"Admit it, you want him." Butcher sneers. "Get bent William." You reply. "What will you do, peg me." Butcher chuckles, slapping you on the arse. You roll your eyes and continue making yourself a sandwich.

"Looks good." It is Soldier Boy who walks into the kitchen next. You look up at him. "Thanks, it's my own recipe." You say. "Hmm, is that so." Ben comes up to you. He presses himself against your back. "I got something of my recipe, too." He murmurs. You roll your eyes so hard it sort of hurts. "Come on, I know you want it." He growls huskily. "I might, but I think you are quite occupied with making sweet slow love to your ego." You reply. Ben snorts loudly.

"What if I ask nicely?" He whispers. He inclines to kiss gently at your neck. His lips are warm and smooth and supple. You can't help a soft moan. Ben smirks against your skin. "See, you want it." He whispers. The way his breath gusts over the spot he just kisses makes you shudder. You grow wet. There is no longer any denying it, because he will of course be able to smell you. "Yes you do." He purrs. His hands slide from your hips to the buttons of your jeans. You grab his wrist, but the gesture is feebly. "Ssssh, I'll make you scream my name." Ben whispers, just behind your ear. "Not here." You hiss. "Then take me to your room." Ben replies. You huff and roll your eyes. You know there is no stopping this anymore. But goddammit is Ben smug about it!

"Very well, come on then." You say.

You wash your hands and worm out of his embrace. Ben lets you go, but only so you can lead him upstairs. He grabs you by your hand and you are pretty sure he is staring at your ass the entire time.

Once in your bedroom, Ben is upon you before you can blink. You don't even get a split second to tell him to slow down. His lips seal with yours and his hands grab greedily at your ass. There is no stopping him now.

He nips at your bottom lip. A moan escapes you beyond your own volition. Ben smirks and his tongue invades your mouth. You moan loudly. It is such a primal and intense pleasure to be kissed by him like this. Ben groans lustily and grabs your ass a little firmer. His desire for you is plenty obvious.

"Bed, now." He growls.

"Ask nicely and I might consider it." You reply softly. Ben's jaw sets sternly. He does not like that you are talking back, that much is obvious. "On the bed, don't make me say it again." He growls. You shake your head. "Not like this Benjamin." You say pointedly. "Absolutely like this." He says. He sweeps you off your feet and walks you over to the bed. You don't struggle, knowing better than to push for dominance when he has you in his arms.

He drops you unceremoniously onto the bed.

"Now you are going to shut up and suck my dick." He growls. "In your dreams." You hide under the sheets. Ben chuckles. "So you wana play daddy's bad girl, huh?" He growls. You throw the sheets at him. "Fuck off, ew!" You yell. Ben gives you a puzzled look. "What, said the wrong thing?" He asks.

"I am not calling you daddy." You point out. "Pity." Ben scoffs. "But you can call me mommy if you like." You tease. Ben makes a disgusted face. "That makes us even. Now get off your pedestal." You reply. "You got spice, I like that, but you gotta know your place." Ben retorts. You roll your eyes. "That'd be on top of you." You tell him. Ben narrows his eyes at you.

"I'd like to see you try." He growls.

He is a supe, you know you should not push your luck. But you just can't help yourself anymore. He is not getting away with being such a prick while trying to get with you. You have to put him in his place, you just do!

You grab him by the shoulders and topple him over, though only because you utterly take him by surprise. "How is this for a start?" You cooe, straddling his pelvis. Ben smirks up at you and licks his lips. "Not bad." He murmurs, rolling his pelvis up at you. You can't help a moan from escaping your lips. He is so hard below you.

You need him inside you! Sooner rather than later, too!

"Get out of these clothes." You hiss. "Absolutely." Ben purrs. He grabs you by the hips and smoothly flips you over. He is quick to discard his clothes. You look up at him, amazed by how fit he looks. He looks very fucking hot, for an absolute biohazard. Luckily you are invulnerable to it, which is why you have been assigned his babysit. Though you are pretty sure this was not in the job description.

"You too." He says firmly. "Ask nicely." You cooe. But Ben shakes his head. "It ain't gona be like that, babygirl." He growls. "You are going to take off your clothes, or I will tear them off." It is an order, loud and clear. "Yes, sir." You demure. "Good girl." Ben smirks smugly. And you hate it. You hate how smug he is about being in charge. You are determined to rid him of that smugness. Sooner rather than later. But you also know that now is not yet the time. You have to wait for the right moment.

You take off your clothes, but slowly. As slow as you can. Ben stands by, still as a statue. He is not acting, but you know he is poised to spring into action as soon as you take your panties off.

So you draw it out as long as you can.

Too long for Ben...

He grabs you and throws you on the bed, pulling your panties to tatters before you even hit the sheets. "No more games." He growls. "But that would be no fun. Sex should be fun, Benjamin." You cooe. "Shut up." Ben growls. "Make. Me." You reply. His hand finds your throat and you are acutely aware of exactly how thin the ice is that you just skated your fine ass onto. You whine softly. "That is a better sound." Ben smirks.

He leans down to kiss you possessively. You can't help but moan and curl your arms around his neck. Ben smirks wickedly against your lips and shoves his tongue into your mouth. You whimper, but also shove your fingers into his hair. You tug carefully at his hair. Ben groans lewdly. You pull more firmly. Ben swears into your mouth and lowers his pelvis against yours.

He grinds his throbbing cock against your folds. You break the kiss to moan loudly. "Fuck yes, yes fuck, that is right." Ben growls. And he grinds down again. You wrap one leg around his hip. "You like this, my soft little petals kissing that iron hard rod." You tease between heated kisses. "Gona like it much better when my cock is in that wet pussy." Ben replies. "I am sure you will, but I insist you take your time." You reply. "i promise you, I am worth it." You dig your heel into the flesh of his arse. "You fucking better be." Ben replies.

He allows you to topple him over again.

You grind down on him and Ben groans. "Fuck babygirl, ride my cock." He growls. "Make me cum first. You know how to do that right?" You purr. Ben lands a harsh spank on your ass. "Shut up, ride me." He snaps. You can help but moan loudly. "No way in hell, ask me nicely first." You hiss, but you roll your pelvis all the same. Ben moans lustily and bucks his hips up at you. His cock is made slick by your arousal. It feels so good. But you won't give him what he wants! He needs to give you some, first!

"Don't play coy, ride my cock." Ben growls. "Not. Yet." You hiss firmly. Ben makes a frustrated noise. You take his hand and bring his fingers to your clit. "I am sure you know what to do here." You cooe. "Of course I fucking do." Ben says snidely. "Then show me." You purr. "I can do much better than just polish your pearl." Ben replies. But he begins to rub your clit all the same. You moan sweetly for him.

"I could eat you out instead." Ben growls. But you shake your head at him. "Not yet." You whisper. You are going to save that for later, because you know you gotta warm him up to obeying first. He's bound to be a selfish eater. And you can't have that. "I could just do it to you." Ben says. You shake your head. "You won't." You tell him firmly. "And why the fuck is that?" Ben growls. "Because you want to find out what I can do." You purr. Ben furrows his brow, almost as if he is considering his options.

"I just want you to cum on my cock." He then snaps. It would seem he is losing his patience. "Well, make me cum then." You place your hand over his. "I am already on your cock." You tease. "Let me put it in." Ben growls. "So impatient." You purr. "Fuck you, you frigid bitch." He bucks his pelvis up at your.

Impulsively you slap him across the face. You are not taking kindly to him calling you a bitch.

To your surprise, Ben groans loudly. You smirk down on him. "You like that, huh?" You purr, giving him another slap. You feel him throb against your folds. "Fuck, ride me cock, right the fuck now." Ben grunts. "Make me cum first." You grab his chin, tipping his head back. "Go on, as soon as I've cum, I'll take you inside me." You hiss. Ben sticks out his tongue, making a come hither gesture with it. You shudder. You know this will likely not go well, but he looks so good like this. You are too sorely tempted.

So you lower yourself onto his face instead. "Fuck yeah." Ben groans. He opens his mouth wide, his tongue lapping up into the space between you. You shudder in anticipation. "Come here girl." He growls. You obey, nesting yourself down on him. Your pussy fits into his mouth almost perfectly. Ben groans, his tongue lapping at you without any true aim. Evidently he did not expect you to fully stick your cunt into his open mouth. Serves him right!

Ben's hands grabs at your ass and his tongue explores your wet cunt. He sucks at your clit and fucks you in his tongue. You moan, grinding against his face. His beard is causing red blotching on your thighs, but you don't care. You are going to get off, one way or another. And wearing Ben's mark is an added bonus.

"Cum for me." Ben growls between sucking your clit and fucking you with his tongue. You are so ready to, cum, too. But you want to try and hang on just a little longer. In part to not cum on his command, but also to make him a little more aggressive about it. "So close." You mewl, to egg him on. Ben groans and sucks fiercely down on your clit. You squeal in pleasure. Your inner walls tighten and throw and you feel the lightning overtake your spile. Ben groans, sensing your climax. He releases your clit and thrusts his tongue into you. You contract on his tongue and he laps up your slick.

"Now I am going to fuck you." He growls.

He grabs you by the hips and tosses you, from his face, onto the bed. You squeal, though you are not truly surprised.

Ben crawls on top of you, wasting no time in lining up. He pushes in till the hily right away. You cry out in utter pleasure. He fills you up so thoroughly that you all but cum again. He begins to thrust, setting a grueling pace. You cry out with every time his cock head kisses your cervix. "That's right, cum on my cock, little whore." Ben groans. He grabs you by the throat. You whimper and tumble over the edge again. "Ugh, fuck yeah." Ben grunts.

He slams into you, over and over and over. And you moan until your throat is sore. It is as if there will never be an end to Ben's vigor. It's probably a Supe thing.

Though eventually his pelvis begins to stutter. "Fuck, gona fucking breed your tight little pussy." Ben groans. "Oh, yes, please!" You whine, rocking up at him. His thrusts still and with a sated grunt, he spends himself deep inside you, rope after rope of thick, virile cum.

Then he pulls out, to admire the absolute cream pie he made of your cunt.

"There is a good little cum dump." He smirks down on you. You want to tell him off, but afterglow has too firm a grip on. Ben leans down to kiss you fiercely. "You are mine now, got it." He growls. "Y-yes sir.." You whisper. "Good girl." He chuckles darkly.

[gabessquishytum]

Okay how about writer Dream doing a presentation at the library where librarian Hob works. Dream didn’t realize librarians could be so hot, and Hob is regretting that he’s at work and has to stay professional. They end up talking after until it gets quiet (It’s Hob’s job to keep the talent happy, okay? Maybe they’re setting up future visits.) It wasn’t supposed to be anything (Hob’s at work!) but well, Hob also knows all the quietest corners where staff rarely wander. He gives Dream a tour of them. (The politics are bad, Hob’s not that attached to this job, anyway.)

Dream does come back for more author visits, and he always seems to have plenty of time for “research” afterwards, until the time he and Hob get caught. Hob loses his job, but he’s not too upset because Dream has already asked him to move in and has plenty of money to support them both. His job was about to get cut anyway, and now he doesn’t have to worry about finding a new one.

Hot librarian Hob is absolutely something that we need to talk about here. I vet he absolutely plays into the vibe by dressing somewhere between nerdy and slutty. Sweater vests with nothing underneath and his nipples visible through the fabric. Slacks tailored tight around his arse. Thick rimmed glasses which he sometimes takes off so he can put the arm part in his mouth. He likes his job just fine but he'd be just as happy as someone's slutty house-husband, really.

Enter Dream, who takes one look at Hob bending over at a book shelf and honestly forgets his own name. He doesn't like doing these author talk things much, but with Hob in the audience, he's happy to stay and answer numerous questions. He can't stop looking at the bulge in the front of those tight trousers. Even the strip of bare, hairy ankle revealed when Hob crosses his legs is a huge turn on.

Groping each other in the dark corners of the library becomes Hob’s favourite thing to do with Dream, and when he's fired he honestly misses the setting of their little rendezvous' a lot... until he finds out that Dream has a library of his very own in his lovely posh house, and he's quite happy for Hob to be naked in it whenever he wants! <3

[drippingmoon]

Another Get to Know Me

Tags courtesy of @sleepy-night-child and @splashinkling aaand thanks a lot you two, I loved seeing yours🤩❤

a band you don't like that many others do

Hmm. I'm not really keeping up with people's music tastes anymore (except for you guys). But in middle school, everyone was obsessed with Panic! At the Disco, while I just couldn't vibe with them, so I was mildly worried I'd get defenestrated for it. I didn't, though the chairs did (my class was unique in that they'd slingshot chair seats out of the window by thing them with curtain beads, and they'd kinda just peacefully swing in and out till recess was over)

least favorite animal and why

Nightfriend, I feel like you're making me commit sins (though not really since insects are animals, but it does not feel so??), soo, I raise you: earwigs. Like. My Good Sir. Was there any need for you to grow pincers on your arse to look like you're gonna pull my brain through my ears? No? So please.

hot fandom take

I don't really have any. My fandoms have always been veeery small, even limited to one person (me. Waving, hello!), I'll just hand everyone hot tea and chill🍵

do you wear any jewelry, if so, what's your favorite piece

Not a jewelry person. I did use to have a kitty brooch... but the thing with brooches is, they are perfect for self-poking especially when you're so naturally inclined, so I gave it up.

a movie others liked that you didn't

Ouch, I'm really so out of touch with movies, and these days I'm watching what's very much not popular with people (except for Interstellar. Interstellar is baby). Probably any of the Pride and Prejudice adaptations, I had to go through them for a course, and you couldn't pay me to sit down with them again.

three things you love about yourself

*sees the question and shakes it like a snow globe*

These things so do not come naturally to me. Probably because I'm the type never to think if I can do something and just act, so pride just feels like spur-of-the-moment joy. Though, I'm really starting to think that's just what pride is.

Perfect, actually! So, that I just do stuff, probably my ability to entertain myself, and that I refuse to let life feel like a race. I'm here for the journey.

a place you hope to visit in the future and why

Iceland! Iceland! At night! When I can finally see all the stars, and very importantly, it'll be that delicious shade of freezing, and SNOW! I miss biiig snows so much!! And I want to share it all with my best friend🥰💜💙🥂

an actor that gets on your nerves and why

Am I supposed to know names?

things you're excited about in the near future

Ooooh, you find out like this I'm a bit of fraud come next week. I have goals to put an ungodly amount of chilli in the puff pastries I'll make next week, mostly because I wanna see for myself how painful it can get😈 and, oh, a lot of very awkward and very hilarious dancing, but with how silly it is, it energizes me like nothing else. (And it's still leaps and bounds classier than the 1967 Far From the Madding Crowd adaptation of Troy's... fencing mating rituals. Why was I made to watch that with mine eyes🤣🤣)

least favorite ship in a fandom you're in

I'm in a fandom? Since when? Jokes aside, probably Tomoyo and Kurogane from CLAMP's Tsubasa Reservoir, because HELL NO. Tomoyo crushes hard on Sakura, and you just can't separate Kurogane from Fai. You can't. It'd cost him an arm and maybe a leg also this time.

what's the most toxic fandom you've been in

Oh no, I just make some tea and detox whenever it's the case. I am not a social person, so it helps

list three things you find beautiful about life

Hnnngh, getting to talk to someone in the wee hours of the night when it feels really special, the wind and how it'll numb my fingers but rekindle everything else in me, and how you can grow to love so many things you wouldn't even have thought about before. I love being surprised by time.

any dreams for the future

My personality is such that, from time to time, I just won't dare make a sound from fear they'll just slip through my fingers. I am taught to wait and see.

But this is the rest of the time, SO

I WANT TO KEEP WRITING FOR THE REST OF MY DAYS, AND NEVER FORGET THE THRILL AND JOY OF WATCHING MY STORIES DEVELOP BEYOND MY WILDEST IMAGINATION, OO-RAH!😍👏👏🤺

how are you feeling today

A bit like someone's stomped on my face (sleep; my fault, this time, but the lack of required hours keep me hostage), but also? Energized. Ready to go. And I absolutely never rest😈

These were really pleasant, so if anyone wants to hop on and grab some tea🍵, I'm keeping this tag open for you! I love talking😊

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Tryna write this post about Hobie's Black-Cat OC MysStray and like 😭😭 I'm Strugglin' I really am

ummm I'm too lazy to go and finish it and make it all nice so imma just infodump about her and Hobies past and dynamic heehee

Anyway 😈 her name is pronounced Miss Stray or Mystery. And Myssie is just Missy but Boujee

Spider-Punk x Black Cat: MysStray - Miranda Straizand

Her real name is Miranda but everyone calls her Myssie. Only Hobie calls her Miranda and that's only when they about to start arguing.

[she be like 'don't Miranda me, ya dickhead. If I start calling you Hobart it's gonna get embarrassing 🤨']

She's 22, an exotic dancer, bud dealer, and credit-card scamming hacker.

HOWEVER

Not only is her faceclaim Rico Nasty but she's also his ex and I have no idea how to write her without ppl being like 'damn why she so mean to him 😐'

Like nooo she means shut the fuck up affectionately. She means tosser in a nice way 😭😭 she's telling him to roll hey blunt cause her love language is acts of service I promise

But uhh yeah they meet as civilians a couple years back but didn't get into it until Hobie was in a tight spot money wise and needed a place to stay - this was right after he got his powers and was patrolling 24/7 to the point it was wearing him down and he had no interest in making money.

And his friend Harry was like 'you can stay with my bud dealer but she might have you working for her'

Hobie ended up staying with her as her pseudo-body guard and blunt roller until he started hitting on her.

Which, she was like 'that's fucking bold of you. You sleeping in my crib, eating my food and now you wanna sleep in my bed? AND YOU'RE BROKE?'

But somehow it worked. He has the rizz. I'm serious.

He got a 'promotion'.

Though Myssie would never say they're dating or that she's his girlfriend.

She'd always say specifically "Hobie's my boyfriend."

And if you asked him, he'd specifically say "I'm her boyfriend."

ie, He's hers. Like not in a possessive way but in a 'She ain't his any-fucking-thing. She ain't nobodies nothing' kinda way - do that make sense 😭

They dated for about a year, with Myssie finding out he was Spider-Man on her own a couple months in.

She was not thrilled. She wasn't mad. She just -

That crawling on walls shit night be cute - but being out in them streets fighting some punk-ass cops talking about 'I'm an anarchist suicide-machine'?

No, no I think not.

Originally she was not into it. That righteous shit was not for her. Her and Hobie had been handling business smoothly, Myssie had moneying come in. The whole circle was eating good - why was he trying to be a hero?

She much preferred he did it on his own time like before. The webs can stay though, she likes the webs.

Hobie on the other hand was like 'okay fuck whatever'. It's not like he needed to be held and babied 24/7. And he knew how Black Cats were, but still - damn.

He'd come home after the shittiest patrol, and she'd act like it was a bad day at the office. A blunt can't fix everything.

Eventually as Myssie learned that Hobie being Spider-man didn't mean he was trying to force righteousness on her - or looked down on her for not seeking it, she got more comfortable with the idea.

And then she got her ass locked up.

All of a sudden she's like 'Hey Spidey come get me 🤣🤣🤣'

Of course he comes. But of course he's like

"I should leave you're arse here but I won't because I'm a good person."

And she's like "You won't because you know better - I'm just joking stop playing and get me out babes 😭😭'

So they had a few good months of crime and justice. Having government systems, stealing funds. Myssie dancing and dealing on the side while Hobie does shows.

They dated maybe a year, a little over that.

Eventually she broke up with him. It was a harsh one. Myssie has Borderline Personality Disorder and although she really loved Hobie, after finding out he was Spider-Man the concern and worry and stress it put on her was too much and she choose to look after her mental health instead.

She's not the type to patch him up when he comes home bloody. Waking up to that shit genuinely stresses her out.

Sitting around waiting not knowing if he would make it home really fucked with her head every night.

She's not trying to take down a system. She's trying to put food on her table and money in her account and live her life fucking quietly.

Eventually she was like 'I'm sorry. I love you, but you're driving me nuts.'

Hobie couldn't fault her. But damn it hurt. Especially because it wasn't like a 'oh btw maybe we should break up' kinda thing it was a 'i can't take this shit anymore' type thing.

He actually felt bad for putting her in the situation because she signed up to date him not Spider-man. And Myssie was never a hero to begin with, she doesn't have a righteous bone in her body.

And then it came to the topic of - UH OH you now live with your ex-boyfriend (plus he's broke and reckless)

Myssie offered to pay for a place for him but Hobie was like 'fuck no' and took off.

Eventually through Harry, Myssie learned that Hobie got a place - his boathouse - making a steady income on his band's mixtape and merch. She was happy for him, but she still kept her distance. Cause like, how do you even approach that?

After breaking up with a dude then low-key kicking him out your flat? It's not like she just stopped having feelings for him. So she kept her distance, for both of their sakes.

No hard feelings, but doing what she has to do.

So that was it. Until one day, Hobie shows up at her job.

Mind you, Myssie dances. So Hobies options were coming to her house unannounced, or show up to her strip club unannounced.

He meets her backstage but, she refuses to see him unless he pays like everyone else.

He can either buy a dance or buy some weed, but she'll only link with him as a customer. They can't just be hanging to hang, y'know?

So Hobie leaves and the next day, he turns up to her place early with the money - having gotten an early advance from a performance.

He buys a quarter of buds from her, and while he rolls a blunt he tells her that he needs her to hack an extremely sophisticated system.

One more complicated than anything they've ever seen.

He can't pay her for the job. He's asking her as a friend.

He tells her that if she takes it, she's going to have to learn a lot about him being Spider-man, and that it might change a lot of things for her, but it's something he can't do on his own.

Reluctantly, Myssie agrees.

He shows her is Spider Society watch - and tells her he needs help hacking the system and disabling the AI on it.

He wants to find the backdoor that leads to HQ's mainframes, and deconstruct it from there.

He tells her about what it can do, and the other Spider-people. Myssie agrees to do the job, but stops him from telling her more, because she'd rather live not knowing everything about the universe.

For a couple weeks they work on it together, and surprisingly they don't rip out each other's throats. In fact, it's kinda nice.

Then Diane enters the picture.

Myssie isn't jealous. She's just very confused.

For one, it's very obvious Diane is from a different planet. She acts like it. There's nothing punk or edgy about her. She's very clearly not from 138.

But she's Spiderwoman. The idea that there's more of them? A whole multiverse of them - a whole multiverse of Black Cats - Myssie... isn't with it.

And secondly, Diane is the opposite of Myssie. Myssie has never heard her say a joke that wasn't well-meaning.

The first time Diane heard Myssie tell Hobie 'Shut the fuck up' (within ten minutes of meeting her) Diane audibly gasped.

Myssie was like 'girl you too tf 🤨 shit both y'all pissin me off'

It's not that Myssie doesn't like Diane - it's just that half the time when Diane speaks Myssie is like

Diane is nice and all - but where the fuck did he find this chick? Why she always here?

Why does she like Hobie so much? He's a lame!! He's broke!! He tells wack ass jokes!!

Like yeah Myssie dated him and loves him but also ????? Groupie??? Girl get a grip!!!!!!

But anyway Myssie helped Hobie hack Spider Society's systems.

They're currently defined as 'Exes' in a nonexistent situationship. Diane has floated the idea with Hobie of them getting back together, now that Hobie has her to support him in the Spideystuff (they're polyam) but Hobie is like 'that ain't up to me'

What happens to them? Idk.

But they've started hanging out to hang out again, so that's a start.

And she's been flipping him off more, which is like her way of flirting.

But like.... That's cute and all - but in the moment she's so mean.

He says a stupid joke to mess with her and she's like ' shut the fuck up and roll the blunt bruv 😒🤨' even though she's stickering and cackling.

But I don't want y'all to think she's just being mean to him just to be mean 😭😭 noo

The way they talk to each other is mad aggressive

Like when he makes a bad joke and she calls him 'one daft bastard' she means he's funny and cheeky and being a silly little guy

Noooo when he calls her a hell spawn or a demon he means that affectionately 🥺🥺 he's making a funny

Nooo they're not fighting they're wrestling over the blunt and also getting play-hits in and also accidentally trashing Myssies place

She's like 'Quit talking shit and come cuddle me. Arsehole.'

He's like 'How about you calm the hell down and give me a kiss 😐'

He calls her Pryssie like prissy because she's highstrung as fuck

She calls him bug boy and pipsqueak even though he's like a foot taller than her

They're just rough around the edges okay them telling each other to go to hell means I love you okay

Mysbie aka StrayPunk or MysPunk idk which one I like more

Oh ALSO Myssie and Hobie have had the Spiderman PS4 timeline

ie Myssie lied and was like uhhh I need money for my son that's why I'm running game

And Hobie was like fuck is that kid mine I cannot a dad and he starts stressing out

Only for her to be like 'first of all I lied second of all why would you think it's yours? That's bold of you. You ain't the only dick on dial 😐🤨'

Okay but I PROMISE They're cute together I promise TRUST ME PLEASE

[freshlypizza]

@sun-anonn asked how I think Curt and Owen met (I can't find the ask for some reason), so here's how I think it would've went:

Curt Mega was on a mission in New York. His job was to infiltrate a high-class party and retrieve a file with some extremely confidential information (information that could lead to something really bad if anyone but A.S.S got their hands on it). The most classic spy mission.

He knew who had the files, a 29-year-old blonde haired, green eyed woman with the name Elizabeth Bancroft.

Getting into the exclusive party was easy, he had dressed in one of his best suits and had slipped his hand into a guests pocket, taking their invitation.

Once in the huge ballroom, he headed straight towards the bar. Thankfully, his target was there.

Curt swaggered towards her, his strategy was to seduce her.

Seduction was always the easy choice for spies. It was quick, it was convenient. For Curt, especially, it was okay. He never felt anything for any female target, anyway, so when he had to make his escape, he wouldn't feel bad about leaving.

Male targets were different - he couldn't seduce them (no matter how much he wanted to).

Elizabeth was not alone.

She was talking to a very tall and lanky man, whose hair was slicked back. He leaned on the bar, Curt couldn't see his face. She was twirling her hair, flustered.

Curt made it to the bar, standing next to Elizabeth, and ordered a drink for himself.

“Hello, stunning,” Curt almost winced at himself.

Elizabeth turned around, “hey!” Curt could tell she was drunk. He could finally see the man fully, and he looked annoyed.

“Is everything alright?” Curt asked.

“Yes, yes!” Her smile was wonky, “Mr Carvour, here,” she slapped his chest, “was just telling me about London!” She dissolved into a fit of giggles, “he says it's so pretty! Don't you think he's pretty?” The question was random, and very uncalled for. Carvour smiled.

“No,” was all Curt said.

“That's the first time somebody has said no to that question,” Carvour had a very thick British accent, “do you want to rethink that?”

“I'm good, thanks,” Curt downed his tequila. Elizabeth continued to giggle.

Carvour checked his watch, “well, I’d best be going. I'm travelling early in the morning and I can't miss my plane. See you around, Elizabeth,” he took her hand and kissed it, her face went bright red and her giggles grew into laughter.

He walked away, Curt could make his move.

He eventually managed to take her to her hotel room, where she passed out immediately, with her green sequin dress, and heels, still on. He sighed, and began to search the room for the files.

He didn't find them that night, and when he got back to HQ, he got a mouthful from Cynthia.

–

Curt saw Carvour again when he was placed on a mission in Venice.

And then again in Barcelona.

They ran into each other in almost every mission Curt was assigned on, and everytime Curt found his face growing redder and redder when he was around Carvour. Everytime, Curt would learn something about the Brit that would make him more endearing to Curt.

It was only when they ran into each other again in Paris, when Carvour grabbed Curt's wrist and dragged him into a five-star hotel bedroom.

He grabbed a gun from the bedside table, and pointed it to Curt's chest.

“Woah!” Curt raised his hands.

“Who do you work for?” Carvour hissed.

“What?”

“Who the fuck do you work for? Why are you following me? Who are you?"

���Could you put the gun down, maybe?” Curt moved his hands up and down, gesturing to lower the gun.

“Not until you answer me.”

Curt sighed, he was definitely going to be getting a lecture from Cynthia later, but it was going to help him avoid death, so it was worth it. “I am agent Curt Mega of the American Secret Service.”

“A.S.S?” He pronounced it weirdly (“arse”).

Curt nodded, and Carvour lowered his gun. “Okay, now who are you?”

“Agent Owen Carvour. MI6."

“So, we are both spies?”

“Seems that way, love.” That made Curt’s face grow red. “Are you okay?”

“Yes!” He said way too quickly, “yes, I am! Now that this is all over, I'm gonna go and finish the mission.” He inched towards the door.

“Wait,” Owen said, “don't you think it'd be easier for us to, I don't know, work together? We are after the same thing, aren't we?"

Curt agreed.

The mission was done in record time. They had enough time to drink.

They found a spare table at the party they had infiltrated, and began to talk about everything and anything. Family, work, their respective home countries.

Curt took a sip of his tequila, and then he woke up in a bed. He was shirtless. There was another person under the covers with him.

He quickly got out of the bed, ignoring the headache that caused, realising very fast that Owen Carvour was the one in bed next to him.

“Fuck, shit, fuck-” he grabbed his shirt from the floor, fastening the buttons as hastily as he could.

Owen sat up, rubbing his eyes, he was also shirtless. “What's going on?” He opened his eyes, putting the pieces together in his mind, his eyes opened wider, “oh god.”

“I'm so sorry- we shouldn't have- oh god, we are going to lose our jobs- shit, shit, shit..”

Owen hushed him from the bed, “nobody's going to find out, love.”

“They're always watching, Owen. We are spies, Owen! We work for the damn government! They know everything!"

“It's going to be fine.”

Curt had finally finished getting dressed, “I'm leaving.”

“Will I see you again?” Owen smiled, it was a smile of several emotions.

Curt knew the safe answer, no. What happened was a one night thing and would never happen again, they were drunk, for fucks sake!

But Curt's heart wanted it's turn to speak, and it said, “I hope so.” He walked out the room.

[alicesadventuresinffxiv]

FFxivWrite2024 Prompt #9 (Lend an Ear)

Title: Field Notes on Misija, Part III

Wordcount: 1028

Alternate Universe: WoL was out fishing

Spoilers through: Shadowbringers, specifically Bozja storyline

Relationships & Characters: Misija, Fordola

Summary: Even further handwritten notes on the history and character of the IVth's covert operative, Misija Votyasch.  Use to add to your field record.

(Experimenting with a new format this time! I’ve been wanting to try my hand at writing an “interrogation transcript” in the style of one of the Bozja Field Notes for a while. I just did DRN on my alt last weekend, so it seemed a good idea to write it while that was fresh in my mind!)

.

This document records a supervised visitation between Ala Mhigan Resistance conscript Fordola Lupis and covert operative Misija Votyasch, as facilitated by liaison officer Apella. 

.

M: Back again, I see. And you’ve brought a friend too. Is this another interrogation? I've already said my piece, and you yours.

A: This is Fordola Lupis, of the Ala Mhigan Resistance. She has requested permission to speak with you.

M: I don’t recognize that name. Her face and uniform seem familiar, though.

F: We crossed blades in Delubrum Reginae. 

M: So the noble Resistance has resorted to sacrificing the soldiers of its allies rather than risk being tempered themselves. Even now, I find new ways to be disappointed in the supposed “values” of the nation they seek to build.

F: Your eikon posed no threat to me.

M: If it hadn’t been for the Eorzean champion, I would have tempered you like the rest.

A: You have five minutes, starting now.

M: And just like that, she’s gone. Shame. She’s a gentle one at heart, it would not surprise me if she approved this visit herself. But who are you? What do you want with me?

F: I just needed to know: were you another dupe or another madman?

M: I don’t follow.

F: Seeing as you still don’t know the smell of your own shite even after it’s bitten you in the arse, I’m guessing it’s the first one. 

M: If you’re just here to insult me, you can leave.

F: Did you know tea works for the headaches? And that painkillers what put you to sleep don't? Or did they leave that part out too?

M: Who said I was having headaches? …Ah. I understand now. So you’re her. We thought test subject XXVIII had been executed by the rebels. 

F: Not yet, they haven’t.

M: I pity you. But your own sympathy is misplaced. The IVth isn't like the XIIth. I did not gamble my life in an unethical experiment the way you were made to.

F: Like hells you didn’t. There is no safe procedure.

M: I speak the truth. Van Galbranth cares about the well-being of his men. He would not trust Sicinius if he didn't have standards. 

F: Standards? You met that man and you thought he had standards? He's a snake like mal Asina was before him. Any assurances he gave you were worth less than bollocks.

M: And yet, I stand before you.

F: Aye, unlike the poor bastards we dug up underneath the Castrum. Dozens upon dozens of corpses for the one miracle that was you. No different than in Ala Mhigo.

M: You’re lying. There were no corpses. 

F: Mayhap not on the report you saw. You never stopped to wonder? If the Garleans could piss super soldiers like they were water, why wouldn't they? 

M: …

F: It's because they can't. Like I said: dupes or madmen. Those are the only lot what volunteers when the survival rate’s less than six sodding percent!

A: Two minutes left.

M: I cannot fathom what you hope to gain from this bizarre debate. Suppose your assessment is correct and not merely outdated. What does it matter? I will not give you the satisfaction of breaking my pride over the proof of a single deceiver amidst our ranks.

F: Keep your bloody pride, I don’t want it. But you’ll want to hear the rest I’ve got to say.

M: Out with it, then.

F: Don't worry about the dreams, those are normal. Not feeling your limbs, or feeling like your body's not your own, is not. Tell someone, though if you've got to that point it's probably too late anyhow.

M: …Fascinating. Undoubtedly concerning. But fascinating nonetheless. Are you describing a fatal mismatch between incorporeal and corporeal aether?

F: Do I sound like a scholar to you? I’m just repeating that what’s been told to me. 

M: As you so colorfully emphasized, I was not made aware of this danger by any Garlean scientists. What was your source of information?

F: One of the Students. My Mikoto, so to speak. She was… kinder to me than I deserved. Afterwards.

M: Krile Baldesion, if I am not mistaken.

F: The records had her name, but not mine? Hmph. Right - speaking of, check your blood type if you ever need a transfusion. Mine’s turned into the same rare Lalafell swill she has. You’ll likely get Au ra.

M: Why would trace aberrations in the soul alter the nature of corporeal aether? I am no expert in such fields, but what you are suggesting goes against even basic, foundational aetheric theory.

F: You ever stopped to watch a ceruleum refinery? 

M: I presume you are going somewhere with this. Yes, I have. They built one over the polluted slum where I grew up. Why?

F: Those flares they set off? That's you. Your soul’s now got more aether than your body knows what to do with, and it gets funny about it. …Or something to that tune. Feels great until it doesn't. By now you'll be hitting the pins and needles stage. Exercising makes it go away for a while. Feeling sorry for yourself doesn't.

M: You have a talent for memorable imagery, I won’t deny that. We may agree on very little else, but I can respect your advice, and the candor with which you have chosen to share it.

F: If you ever need some bugger to talk to about it all, I’ll lend you an ear. Least I can do, seeing as you’ve let me borrow yours all this time.

M: I see. So you’re another gentle soul, even if you have a markedly unpleasant way of expressing it. I will keep your offer in mind. Our minders permitting, of course. 

A: Your time is up. Please conclude your discussion.

M: It was interesting to meet you, Fordola. I’ll admit our conversation was stimulating, if nothing else. 

F: Don't kill yourself.  …Alright, I’m done. You can take me outside.

.

A copy of this report has been submitted to Commander Raubahn Aldynn as per the agreement between the Bozjan Resistance and Eorzean Alliance to flag anomalous behavior among conscripts and imperial defectors.

[letters-from-dekarios]

[Roux is a human thief who worked for the Guild. He is cold and impersonal on the outside but very affectionate when he likes someone. He romanced Gale but didn't accept the proposal because he had his own stuff to figure out. The letter is written in a scratchy hand, with ink smears and crossed-out letters indicating that it was written rather hastily]

Dearest Gale,

I hope you're doing well. Professorship suits you, I think. I never got to go to school but in my entirely unbiased opinion you make an amazing teacher. I hope you can actually read this, since I know my writing isn't exactly up to snuff, but if you can't then I'm sure you'll spare my feelings somehow.

Baldur's Gate is as busy as ever, although being a hero certainly has its perks. It's weird- people buy me drinks and stuff, now. People know my name and they respect it. Important people want to talk to me, and want my help making decisions.

I don't know if I like it all the time.

Not to be bitter, but must of these nobles would've spit on me a year ago, and the only reason they'll listen to a street rat is because I saved their sorry arses. Oh well, at least I can help some people while I'm at it. Wyll says hello, by the way, but he already writes to you enough, so I'm sure you know that.

I do wonder about your tower, sometimes. Everything you told me made it seem apart from the world, in some pocket of peace that all the chaos couldn't touch. I'd welcome some peace, I think.

I spent my whole life being a sticky-fingered kid, stealing to get by, but you made me feel like more than that. You treated me like a person- a person that mattered.

I'm not good at letters. I know I've been dancing around it for a while, and it only took me so long to write because I was putting it off. I'm sorry about that. But... I still love you. That never went away. I miss having you tell me about anything and everything and nothing at all. I miss having someone hold my hand.

I won't say that I regret my decision- because that would be a lie and I'm trying not to lie so much these days. I needed a little while to figure out who I am what I want.

And... Well, what I want is you. I need you. I need peace. I need to stay in one place, for a while. I understand if our leaving left a sour taste in your mouth. If you want nothing to do with me I won't push you. But if you do want me... Well, I don't own much in the way of material possessions. It wouldn't be that hard to move to Waterdeep.

-Yours, Roux

Dearest Roux,

I am glad to hear from you! It has been awfully too long since we last spoke. At times, I find myself missing the presence you held when we’d camp together. Though I do prefer not having a tadpole to worry of.

Blackstaff is treating me rather well! Though that is no surprise to even the most knowledgeable man. I have taken a quick liking to my work and as most would say, “fit right in”. I walk the halls with the reminder of my history here, and it brings me comfort to remember that I was once much like the very students I teach today. This is about the most fulfilling thing I’ve ever experienced, second only to saving Faerûn.

Baldur’s Gate hasn’t known an ounce of calm peace in decades. But, regardless, they try and feign normalcy after an event as huge as we had conquered. Being a “hero” of sorts is never easy to get used to. I feel as though one can only continue chasing that feeling of “more” as though you must continue with your acts of service to consider yourself worthy of the praise being received.

Nobles spit on anyone they consider lower than they. They’ll even spit on other nobles if given the chance. The opinions they hold in the grand scheme of things should, in all reality, mean nothing. But I do understand the point you draw. It’s an odd experience to have people who’d kill you now kill for you. One does not simply “adjust” to that.

Your words bring a sadness to my heart. The backgrounds of us all were much to be contested with. Look at the likes of Astarion, or Karlach, for example. You, out of all of us, certainly mattered. Without you, I’m sure the rest of us would have either died or been sent back to the hells we came from. I’m sure I would’ve exploded in the midst of the Weave and my memory would’ve long faded without you. I couldn’t be more grateful for your existence and your kindness.

Roux… I have not the words I need to reply to you. What I can say, however, is this; I never stopped loving you. Through it all, I still find myself aching for your presence beside me. I am not mad at you for leaving, I would be a selfish bastard to be angry with you for that. And, quite frankly, I’ve tried to swear off being a selfish bastard after my last consequences.

I cannot blame you for needing time. For needing space. After saving all of Faerûn, it’s only reasonable to need time to understand where you’re at and who you’ve become. It is not within my rights to hold any kind of a grudge after all you’ve done for me. I would wait decades for you, Roux. I would curse the gods for immortality if it meant I’d have you at the end of it all. I would devote my dying breath to your highest altar just to have a glimpse of what could have been.

Perhaps that is idiotic of me. Perhaps you will be thinking I shouldn’t hold onto such a thing for that long. I cannot deny the inclinations of my heart, I never have been able to do that. I cannot tie my heart to yours and cut it off so easily. I am not capable of such an act.

Whatever you have to give, whatever you want to give, all of it will be more than enough. Your association at my side is more than I could ever need in this lifetime and the next. If I am to be reincarnated after death, I shall find you then too. You are all I have ever wanted and all I will ever desire. With you, my breath catches and my heart swells with joy. I have never met a person so comfortable to be around.

You, Roux, will always have a space within my home, my mind, and most especially my heart. Whatever you need, whatever your desire, I shall fulfill it to the best of my ability. However you are, however you come, I will take you in. You are most here in Waterdeep.

And, if it happens to sweeten the deal, Tara misses you, too. My mother has even offered to bake some sweets for your arrival if you do so choose to return here.

I would be more than happy to have you here, Roux. I am not a man who tends to lie on matters of such grave importance, you know that. Write me when you have started your journey to Waterdeep, if you are still interested in coming here, that way I have some time to prepare for your arrival.

Yours in every lifetime,

𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔

text reads: gale dekarios

[harrowharks-iliac-crest]

4

Seventh skull... that bodes well; everyone we've ever met from the Seventh is dead, and we are firmly in the realm of the living.

The plants filtered out some of the clinging smoke, and Nona loved to look at the trees and the bristly, curving shapes of the shrubs and bushes.

Me too, Nona. Sounds like you don't have a lot of plants there.

Another place had been cleared and ineptly concreted over, and they put the cages there. The cages were bone-cold and they’d been almost fully cleaned, but Nona didn’t like looking,

Cages... for what, Nona?? Or... for whom???

Then the teacher said, unexpectedly: “Hot Sauce is here too.” Not even the teacher knew Hot Sauce’s real name. Nona said, “That’s early.” “Yes. I asked her why, but she wouldn’t say. Check on her, won’t you?” As though Nona could check on Hot Sauce. “I’m worried about her, living alone. I’ve tried to tell her about the sheltered accommodation, but she’s too independent…”

We're finally getting to see Nona at school!

Honestly, I'm with the teacher on this one. As much as Hot Sauce is a leader and independent and all of that, she's also an orphan of like, fourteen.

Hot Sauce said, “Don’t let them see you from the window.” “Who’s watching?” “Don’t know. Green building. Fourth floor.” Nona was smart enough to catch herself getting up to look, which she privately congratulated herself upon.

Someone is watching. Hot Sauce doesn't think they're watching for Nona, but you can never be sure with these things. For all we know, the Emperor and/or Blood of Eden have lost track of Harrow's body and might very much like to get it back, no matter who is currently residing in it.

But Nona is so precious. I love her. She's so bright and full of love for plants and animals and people around her and herself. Have I mentioned that she's precious and that I love her?

Hot Sauce’s failure to ask anyone’s opinion on anything she did was probably the reason she was the unquestioned authority in the school, over and above the teachers. Nona had told Palamedes about it and Palamedes had said, Lead researcher material, certainly.

Lol, having worked in research, this is most certainly a diss against some kind of lead researcher Palamedes has worked with in the past. Maybe even himself.

She was a gallant little person of fortyish who gave the impression that she had learnt a lot early in life and discovered late that it was no real good to her or anyone else. This lent her teaching a weightless, secretive feeling, like it was really all for fun at the end of the day.

We meet "the Angel" for the first time properly, and this whole thing is a big mood. Same, Angel.

Nothing Pyrrha drank could really hurt her. She had even drunk the contents of the bleach bottle once. When Palamedes had asked why, Pyrrha said she had realised she wasn’t used to being tortured while immortal and wanted to get a head start, and Palamedes said bullshit because he thought Nona had not been listening. Nona wondered if the Angel had been drinking too, albeit not bleach, which had given Pyrrha some sensational hiccups.

Hold on. Pyrrha drank bleach?? Is she. Is she okay?

I mean, if you think about it, she's really not; she's stuck in Gideon the First's body, Gideon is dead, all Pyrrha's friends are dead, and she can't go back to the Emperor, and she can't go to the Blood of Eden, and she's here working her arse off for these kids, which is really what Nona and Cam and Palamedes are to her. Hard, thankless work day in day out, with very little idea of when this will end.

Oh, Pyrrha.

Everyone turned to look at Nona, who writhed beneath this judgement, and they agreed that she had not looked well for, like, weeks. “I do,” she said indignantly. “Look at my braids—I look wonderful,” which thankfully replaced their worry with a group effort to squash her vanity. They often took it in turns to squash Nona’s vanity, which never worked.

Good.

Anyway, she looks like Harrow, who's never looked particularly healthy in her life. Sorry to break it to you, Nona. She's in a Lyctor's body, which means very little can truly hurt her - I bet she could survive drinking bleach like Pyrrha - but if the other kids think she hasn't looked well in weeks, but she was looking better before then, is there something going on?

Even if they all assured her that she was nothing to write home about, she could say, “Who cares? I can’t write,” and then they had to switch tack and squash her for being proud that she was so goddamned stupid.

This is so fucking precious. Keep being proud of your dead-body looks and your above average stupidity, Nona. We love you.

Anyway, this kinda points to Nona's sickly looks just being general Harrow-ness.

The most interesting sight was someone lounging in an alleyway opposite the school building, sitting in a busted-up chair next to an overflowing bin, and Nona watched intently, trying to decide if they were dead or not. She decided not dead, because they were wearing quite a good jacket and faceguard and nobody was coming around surreptitiously trying to take either.

I'm sure this isn't of any importance whatsoever.

[mythologyfolklore]

Liù'ěr Míhóu joins the jttw gang, or: How to redeem an all-hearing celestial monkey with a superiority complex and a seriously bad attitude

Chapter Twenty-Two: Tripitaka is just done.

.

Tripitaka kept a lot of secrets from the other pilgrims. Secrets he had no intention of ever revealing.

Like the dark thoughts that invaded his mind, whenever he was kidnapped by random demons.

Never would he tell his disciples about the hatred he felt towards most demons. Or about the sick satisfaction he felt, whenever Wùkōng and Wùhuàn came to rescue him and made short work of his kidnappers.

No, there was no way he'd ever voice those reprehensible thoughts.

His own helplessness and lack of agency had shattered his illusions and left him feeling less compassionate than he let on. That too would have stayed hidden behind a kindly façade, if only his new disciple wasn't so astute. But oh well, you couldn't have everything. And Tripitaka would rather put up with Wùhuàn's bad attitude than be in the situation he currently was in.

Yes, he'd been kidnapped again.

Yes, he was tied up in a cell.

Yes, he could hear his captors argue about how to best prepare him for a meal.

No, he didn't give a damn.

One of the few things the monk was truly confident in was that he wouldn't get eaten. His disciples would prevent that, as always.

The thought made him smile.

That didn't escape the kidnappers.

“What's there to smile about, monk?!”, snapped one of them.

Tripitaka chuckled: “My disciples are coming to save me.”

The other kidnapper scoffed: “Hah! As if they could get past the guards, let alone defeat us!”

The monk just smiled serenely. “Oh? Don't you know who my disciples are?”

.

“How many demons are in there?”, whispered Wùjìng.

“I hear 144 heartbeats”, Liù'ěr Míhóu whispered back. “A dozen times a dozen. What a clean number.”

Bājiè stared at the six-eared monkey like he had grown a second head. “The fuck does that have to do with the situation?!”

The other shrugged: “Dunno, I just like numbers.”

“Can you guys shut the hells up? I'm trying to make a rescue plan here!”, Wùkōng snarled.

So the others shut their mouths and waited, until the Monkey King was done planning.

The brunet monkey sighed and turned back to the others. “Okay, so here is the plan: Liù'ěr Míhóu and I will sneak inside. Bājiè and Wùjìng, you will distract the kidnappers-”

“Why am I always the distraction?”, complained Bājiè.

Wùkōng's eyes narrowed. “Because you're distracting, that's why. Also, you two will be fine, you're just gonna lure out their army and take them out, while-”

“I'm sick and tired of always being the bait!”, the pig demon snapped.

The Monkey King had to resist the urge to use his laser eyes on Bājiè.

No, he couldn't incinerate the pig. Master would be upset. And if he was upset, it spelled headache time for Wùkōng. Nope, not worth it.

“Ugh, fine! Just shut the fuck up! Okay, change of plan. Liù'ěr Míhóu, you slip inside and take care of Master, while the three of us fight the demon army … what's with that face?”, Wùkōng questioned, when he saw the Six-Eared Macaque's expression shift.

The other's face was scrunched up in concentration as he seemingly listened for specific voices.

“They're talking to slaphead … oh, he's warning them that we're coming to get him. Sounds a little too excited there. And now they're rambling about how we totally can't beat them, blablabla. Now he's giving them our names … they're not taking it seriously …” He scowled. “They're asking him about the bĭqiūní¹ he's training. He says he has no female disciple … now the fuckers are asking about me directly.”

Wùjìng mirrored the monkey's scowl. “Ah. They're that kind of asshats.”

“Apparently”, Liù'ěr Míhóu continued. “… oh, he's trying to explain to his kidnappers, how my temperament works! How gutsy! Remind me to get him some extra rice cakes later. Aaannnd they're brushing it off and insisting I'm a woman. Of course. Fucking arse- wait … his pulse is quickening … his breathing too … wow, he just ground his teeth! I think he's getting angry!”

Wùkōng's mouth suddenly felt dry; when Tripitaka ground his teeth, he was livid. And the monk never got this angry with anyone other than …

No, he had to calm down. This was stupid, his master was angry at the kidnappers, not at him, there wouldn't be pain this time, no recitation of the Tightening Sutra, why was he scared, he needed to stop-

“Eldest Brother?”

Wùjìng's gentle voice was barely reaching his ears. But it was enough to snap him back to reality. He opened his eyes (when had he even closed them?) and saw his younger brothers stare at him in concern – even Bājiè.

“You, uh … you okay there?”, the pig demon asked awkwardly. And got smacked on the head by Liù'ěr Míhóu.

“He's panicking and hyperventilating, the fuck do you think, hogface?”

Oh … I am … how the fuck did that happen? Just now I was … shit. In front of the others too, why, they weren't supposed to see me like this, why???

A large webbed hand on his back brought him back to his senses again.

“Eldest Brother, take it easy”, Wùjìng said gently. “Tell you what, why don't you stay with Bái Lóng Mă and have a moment to breathe, while we handle the whole rescue plan? We have Youngest Brother with us, it won't be a problem.”

The Monkey King just nodded weakly.

Suddenly Liù'ěr Míhóu snorted.

Wùkōng scowled: “What's so funny?!”

The other monkey snickered: “You're gonna love this! He's chewing them out for reducing me to my physical bodyparts. Hah! He just told them they're an embarrassment to their family! Brutal! Now one of them's bawling like a kid! That's fucking hilarious!”

At that Wùkōng couldn't help but laugh.

.

“Just to make this clear: I regret nothing!”, Tripitaka declared, after having been rescued.

“I bet!”, Wùhuàn snickered. “You roasted them like ducks on a skewer! It was priceless!”

“I would never roast a duck. But thank you. That being said …”, he threw a concerned glance at his eldest disciple, “… what's wrong with Pilgrim? Did something happen, while I was away?”

That question was answered by Wùjìng: “When Youngest Brother informed us he heard you get angry at your kidnappers, I think it triggered something in Eldest Brother, even though he knew your anger wasn't directed at him. Perhaps some reassurance would help him feel better?”

The monk frowned and approached his eldest disciple, who was drawing into the ground with a stick.

“Pilgrim?”, he asked gently.

Wùkōng looked up. “Oh, Master. Do you need something?”

Tripitaka shook his head. “No, I'm fine. But are you okay? You seem shaken.”

“I …” A gulp. “… It's nothing.”

“Right, and I like sex”, the monk deadpanned.

To his satisfaction, Pilgrim chortled.

Tripitaka sobered up again. “But seriously. I can tell it's not nothing. What's wrong?”

The monkey lowered his head. “I … I'm sorry I wasn't part of the rescue this time”, he mumbled.

Holy Bodhisattva.

The human sighed, but crouched down (as best as he could with his aching back) and cupped his disciple's face in his hands.

“No, Pilgrim, no. Don't apologise for that. You needed a breather and that's okay. I don't fault you for that. Besides, your younger brothers did just fine rescuing me, didn't they?”

“I-”

“And you didn't resort to violence this time either (though I had to scold Wùhuàn for the bloodbath he caused). No, you've done well today. You've been a good monkey.” He opened his arms. “Do you want a hug?”

As soon as he finished that sentence, he found himself with two arms full of monkey.

.

---

.

1) bĭqiūní: a Buddhist nun

[jboofan]

It's in our DNA

2. Fool of a Kook

The three men sat in awkward silence. After having lost a secret game of rock, paper, scissors Jimin groaned as he spoke up.

"Say, Jungkook," Jimin mentioned nonchalantly, "maybe you should go and check if she's okay?"

Jungkook rubbed his eyes, ignoring Jimin as he went on watching Taehyung throw popcorn expertly into his mouth.

"She must have been awfully scared when she thought someone had broken in."

"She nearly broke my Grammy award Jimin."

"..to protect herself! Dude that's what you're taking from this?"

"I'm going to bed," he clapped his hands. "I cannot be arsed to do anything right now."

YN stepped out of her room ill opportune, a long winter jacket on, suitcase in tow, catching a snippet of his response.

"Oh," Jimin saw her first, clearing his throat, Jungkook turning to see her standing there.

"You're leaving?"

He nudged Jungkook.

Jungkook peered over, YN checked her bag, pockets and fished out her phone.

"You're leaving then?" he repeated, making the other two want to slam their heads together.

"I have to leave..for work. I have your schedule so will make sure I don't disturb you on my return," she cleared her throat, pointing nervously at the front door.

"But it's quite late, where are you going?" Taehyung politely asked.

"This week? Busan."

"This week?" Jimin enquired. "What do you do?"

"I'm a writer," her gaze landed on Jungkook and it made her nervous. If she said where she worked, would he be suspicious and throw her out?

"I help to boost tourism?" she managed.

1 Night 2 days does go to different places, Running Man tends to stay around Seoul..so it's not like I'm lying.

"You don't sound so sure.." Jungkook eyed her suspiciously.

"Most weeks I travel across the country, help to advertise different regions."

"Well that's great," Taehyung gave her a warm smile. "Isn't it Jungkook?" he nudged, "helping our country, positively patriotic that is!"

"Uh, yeah sure. Great," Jungkook managed a half smile.

"I have to go, we have to be on set in a few hours," she rushed quickly to the door, as quickly as her feet could take her.

"Set?" even in a drowsy state, that last bit didn't make sense to Jungkook, he tapped her name into Naver.

"What's her surname?" he asked the two others.

"How are we supposed to know? We didn't even know you had someone living with you, till this afternoon," Jimin drained his can and grabbed his jacket to leave.

"Gotta say, never thought that it would be you of all people living with a girl that wasn't that yo yo girlfriend of yours," Taehyung cackled.

"Ah, here we go," Jimin spoke into his empty can.

"Cmon Jimin," Taehyung tried to stifle his own laugh. "They might make it work this time, seventeenth time is a charm right?"

"Jennie drives me fucking insane," Jungkook sighed.

"Well, you're still with crazy so.." mumbled Jimin out the corner of his mouth, to Taehyung who couldn't hold his laugh in anymore.

"What you say?" Jungkook narrowed his eyes at Jimin opposite.

"Nothing, just that something must have happened. And as your friends, albeit the only ones that put up with your shit, issues. Concerns. I meant concerns, we will listen and try and help," he smiled innocently, elbowing Taehyung in the ribs.

"Of course man," Taehyung grinned back, as he continued to pretend to listen to Jungkook's rant about Jennie and how her going off on tour with Blackpink was effecting their relationship. The whole group had been subjected to it for years now.

The two of them zoned out; Jimin finally finished off the pistachio nuts, whilst Taehyung and him posed for a few selfies. He'd even managed to go to the toilet and back by the time Jungkook had stopped to take a breath. 

"WELL," Taehyung yawned, "We're gonna head off."

"I gotta sleep man," Jimin stifled a yawn. "I got an appointment on the morning."

"And I just can't be bothered to listen to this again another night," Taehyung admitted.

"Dicks. Shut the door after you," Jungkook dragged his feet to his room, before falling asleep in a heap.

"Can we be friends with your new roomie?" they called after him as he slugged off to bed.

"We're having poker night here next week, don't forget again yeah! It's your turn to hold it!" Taehyung waved back, taking a groan from Jungkook as agreement.

**

Jungkook woke up a little after sundown, same as always, noticing the curtains were closed, lights off and no one else home. Just the way he liked it.

He'd lost count of how many days YN had been away, but it didn't bother him. Whether she was there or not, it didn't make a difference to him.

Scratching his arm pits, the echo of his flip-flops against the cold marble floor, stomach rumbling he rummaged the fridge for any leftovers.

"What is she doing?" he wondered, not that Jennie seemed to care much about what he was doing. Sitting on the counter top, cross-legged he did the usual of scrolled through Jennie's social media, liking the last few posts, questioned his existence and then showered to hit the gym again.

**

YN smiled as the lift opened, appreciative for not having to climb several stairs to get to Jungkook's place.

She pulled out the schedule, and paranoid, scanned it's contents for the umpteenth time to ensure he was not home.

The image of shame and embarrassment the first time they met ran through her mind.

"Damn YN, you better hope he ain't in there," she hoped as she reached the door. She'd be lying if she didn't admit that she would have tried to not come home at all, praying the shoot would be delayed, at least until Jungkook went off to his next schedule.

YN opened the door, knowing that he would have left for the gym by now, as the lights were low, and assuming all the shoes out front were his, she confidently rolled her suitcase in, flicked off her sneakers and let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

"His Highness will be at the gym, so I can breathe again—"

Five sets of eyes stared up in surprise, and a sixth set stood with a beer in hand and a dirty look on his face.

"Oh shi—"

YN froze, still gripping her suitcase handle, her knuckles white with panic.

"I can come back later," she offered, not that she had anywhere she could go. A library or cafe maybe?

"Jungkook, care to share what you've been up to?" laughed Hope loudly, as YN tried hard to not pee her pants.

Jungkook didn't get a chance to reply as Hobi, Namjoon and even Yoongi were quicker than usual, already crowding around YN with several questions. Awkwardly YN tried to dodge everyone and get across the living room to her room.

Jungkook watched her eager to get away, the way her eyes went wide in horror as Namjoon knocked into her expensive suitcases and they fell over, making Yoongi swear blue from getting hit and give Hobi a dirty look for laughing in every situation.

"Jungkook you hiding secrets again?" Namjoon chastised him. Even at 25 he was still being ordered about, even though it was him making most of the money now. Jungkook held his tongue and stood still.

YN walked into Jungkook's solid back, pushing out a hand upon it to steady herself. He gave a low grunt, one which only she seemed to hear as she stood instinctively behind him, slowing down to place herself more behind him after a few short strides, wary of the situation. She didn't know him, but she trusted him more than anyone else right this moment. 

"Why are you so skittish?" He looked ahead, but YN knew his words were for her.

"I thought you were supposed to keep to your schedule. But this is a damn party!" she hissed before shutting up, afraid to upset this man.

"Guys let her breathe for fuck sake," he sighed at having to expel energy, pulling her to one side.

"I thought you were out. It's 7, your schedule said you'd be at the gym."

"Don't be shy," he told her, as she came into view.

YN wouldn't look at him. She wouldn't speak. She’d taken to wringing her hands behind her back, which is now in his as he grabbed it roughly, her bottom lip slightly wobbling. 

“That's easy for you to say Jungkook-ssi,” she uttered it so softly, he almost thought it was only the two of them in the room now.

Why does my name sound sweet like honey when she says it?

Unable to think straight, it was too late when his name came tumbling out her mouth without control.

Why is he looking at me like that? Are his eyes glazed over??!

“I can’t just let you leave, I'd have a lot to answer for," he looked her in the eye. 

"Funny cos you've not exactly gone out your way to make me feel welcome have you. You're itching for me to leave," having him look her in the eye was too much as she looked away.

But annoyed again, she looked at him. Cross.

The way she assumed he would ask her to leave, pissed him off. This wasn't her fault. It was because his brother had made his own plans and no one had let him in on it. And perhaps he'd been taking that out on her.

YN felt a fool for saying what she really felt. She wouldn't have agreed to stay with Jungkook just because she could, she was staying with him because she was so close to her big break and needed to be nearer to the action, because she had no other choice but to. Careers were made or lost depending on your commitment, and she was committed to the end.

She would sell her work, and she was going to be a fucking great talent. Sought after. In demand. Respected.

Watering brown eyes. Sexy, wavy shiny sunkissed hair. Cheeks that had a glow to them from working outdoors. Poutiest fucking lips he'd ever seen on a woman.

His brother had a lot to answer for, but he would save that for when he saw the dumbass in person to ask his questions. He'd been acting like a cold bastard towards her, but he wasn't going to admit that any time soon.

She was everything he needed to keep the fuck away from. Happy, thoughtful and kind.

"Please don't be rude. Introduce us to your beautiful friend," Yoongi mumbles politely, like the others looked toward her with a warm smile.

The beauty in question pursed her full lips together and her cheeks were suddenly crimson.

It’s then that her brown eyes locked with his, flickering with emotion as though they were glowing. She’s pissed. Confused. Upset. Telling Jungkook with her eyes to be a man and say something.

Is she sassing me? 

She stood there, her eyes moving rapidly, impatient to hear what Jungkook had to say too. 

For a few short minutes, he'd enjoyed a rare moment of pleasure in his cold, hard life. Clearly, the time for pleasure had come and gone. Now, he was staring back at his bandmates trying to explain why he was holding the hand of a stranger in his home. 

"This is YN, and she's my... guest."

Silence.

"Guest?" Namjoon repeated.

Jungkook gave a lazy nod.

"Your guest?" Namjoon repeated, looking between Jungkook and the others. "Is that like a euphemism for girlfriend or something? Because I don't remember reading about that in my social studies book."

"How many times have I told you, that you learn about people through talking to them, hanging out with people, not through books," Hobi reminded him.

Namjoon listened, before smiling back to her. "Please, join us!"

"It's okay, you seem like you're all enjoying yourself," she moved some steps back, not knowing Jungkook was fixed standing a short distance behind her. "Please enjoy your.. gambling?"

"Oh!" she turned to grab an arm to balance herself. "You and I need to have a chat tomorrow, please," her manners returning as she steadied herself upright.

Jungkook watched her wheel her things over to her room, the door shut quickly and the lock even faster.

"She's very pretty, glad you over Jennie," Hobi smiled, "how you guys meet? And why didn't you tell her to join us?"

"Just through my brother. Nothing fancy or special," he took a swig of beer and picked his cards back up, nestling back into his armchair.

"Right, who's go is it?"

Jimin laughed dramatically, "get ready to lose all your money maknae!"

**

YN was furious. She ripped up his schedule in a fit of anger, flinging the shreds into the air like confetti before stripping off and heading off to shower. The ensuite came complete with beautiful views, but it could do nothing to cool her anger down.

Scrubbing her skin violently raw, and rubbing too rough she couldn't believe her luck that they were all sitting there, like ducks in a row, the moment she walked in.

There goes being able to sit out on the sofas and enjoy dinner in front of the TV again like a normal person. She was sick of being stuck in her room like a prisoner on the rare one day a week she had off.

"Keeps to his fucking schedule my ass," she huffed as she patted her skin down with a fluffy towel before returning to her room to change.

Her thoughts were scattered as a ringtone; her ringtone sounded through them.

"Yeah?" she called out slowly, as she answered the unknown number against her better judgement.

"YN?"

When the caller used her name twice, she realised the call wasn't a mistake but deliberate.

"Who is it?"

"Oh! Sorry! It's me, Jimin."

"How do you have this number?"

She cursed inward for being so suspicious, but she was a practical person. Why would an idol hold onto her number of all people? She wasn't famous.

"Jungkook was being a bit of a dick, so I asked for your number. Thought we could be friends? Taehyung, Hobi and I are meeting for coffee tomorrow, you should join us!"

"Coffee? Me?...but why?"

Jimin laughed.

"Because any friend of Jungkook's is a friend of BTS!"

YN shook her head.

"Oh Jimin," she sighed.

"Yeah?"

"Sweet, naïve and innocent Jimin. Jungkook is not that nice. And I doubt he would give you my number. The first thing he did when he got my number was message me his schedule and tell me to stay out the way. So fess up."

"Damn, you are smart. Ok, we asked him for your number, that part is true. And so is the coffee. He's not exactly been nice since you moved in, and we noticed you were a little," he struggled to think of a word that shouldn't hurt her feelings.

"Stressed? Anxious? Worried?"

"Yep, all of those. So meet us for a coffee downstairs? 9 good for you?"

"Sounds good. Thank you. For being so nice," she bowed respectfully even on the phone.

"No worries at all, but can I ask a favour? As friends?"

YN frowned.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm not gonna like what you have to say?"

He laughed again.

"Nothing seems to get past you. You sure you're not a police officer?"

"I'm not great with confrontation, I get the feeling that might not quite work for me as an officer.."

"Ok well, Jungkook has fallen asleep drunk."

"I ain't putting him to bed. This ain't no drama Jimin."

"I wouldn't ask you to."

She sensed the hesitation in his voice.

"But he's left a Weverse live running, whilst he's fallen asleep. The phone is just aimed at a candle. And well, he's live and the candle is lit. So we're just a bit concerned."

"That idiot has done what?!"

Pulling on her tracksuit bottoms on haphazardly and a t-shirt, inside out in her rush to dress faster than Lewis Hamilton at a pit stop, she hung up to Jimin before flinging herself out her bedroom door.

Jungkook's gaze went to the door behind him several times as the night wore on.

Why did she always lock herself away when she got home? He'd worked out earlier so that he could say hello and welcome her but he'd forgotten about poker night again.

YN rang back into her room as quickly as she left it.

"You can't just go running out like that, what if you get seen on the camera?!"

YN searched his name and watched his Weverse live running as she tried to get an idea as to where his camera was pointed. Lucky for them, it was staring precariously at a candle and nothing else.

Taking a deep breath, phone in hand she tiptoed into the room and towards the lounge. She saw his feet first, sticking out to one side besides the coffee table, covered in fluffy white socks.

The snores were loud. Loud enough that she groaned before quickly covering her mouth and hoping none of his fans heard.

Scanning the comments to see if any sleuth Army fans had noticed, she continued as nothing was mentioned.

Scared to come into view, she stepped over him, and grabbed his fold phone from behind, snapping. The clamshell together loudly.

Jungkook stood, his torso between her legs as she leaned back over to stand upright, tucking his phone into the band of her tracksuit bottoms.

Rechecking her phone and seeing that his live transmission had ended, much to the disappointment of his millions of fans she sighed on relief as she sat him upright against the bottom of the sofa.

Jungkook felt soft fingers prop up his face, and was sure he was dreaming. The smell of freshly washed hair wafted up to his nostrils, a few stray damp ends tickled his nose until he sneezed.

Eyes opened to see YN standing way too close for comfort, a mixture of concern and annoyance painted upon her face.

Her big eyes blinked back, tipped to the side before reaching out to check his forehead.

"What?" she asked.

"What?" he snapped back.

"Are you sick?" He heard her say, "how much did you even drink tonight?"

Jungkook started back at her, still very much drunk.

It’s impossible for me to trust another woman.

Especially one like YN. Who looks like butter wouldn't melt.

She could be obsessed with my wealth, but my heart says otherwise.

Before he could object, he was being manhandled to his room; his thick jumper under which he was sweating removed, and forced to down a glass of water.

The last image seared to his memory was the image of YN turning the light off and leaving the door ajar.

"Don't go," he managed hoarsely. He'd been expecting her to be loyal, stay by his side as he slept; but instead YN looked back at him and laughed.

"Fool. I'm going to sleep. Try not to die yeah," and her door shut soon after.

[theniftycat]

Angels, Demons, and the Presence of God

A Good Omens Analysis done by an atheist who's kinda invested in Christianity. Avaunt if it might make you uncomfortable.

Themes, through lines, and tendencies - Part 1

Parts: 1, 2, 3.1, 3.2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

God introduces us to the story, she tells us what's wrong and what's correct.

We're compelled to believe her, she's God, after all, she knows everything.

But why is she here? Why is she telling us this story? Simple. It's just a game for her.

So, if we trust God from the start, then her response to everything must be correct, and yet, after Adam and Eve are expelled from Heaven, it's hard not to agree with Crawley here.

"I can't see what's so bad about knowing the difference between the Good and the Evil," says the demon, the one who had just been the snake who brought Adam and Eve to their damnation. And yeah, we, as humans, can hardly imagine life without that knowledge. What would it be? Just living in the garden forever, like ants in an ant farm? No free will, no desire, no fear either. Being a shell. Even animals know and have those things.

So, of course, by placing the tree of knowledge right there, in the garden, not "on the Moon", God set humanity up. It was just a matter of time, an experiment, if you will.

And nobody but God knows what the plan is.

By whom? There is the Word of God, we literally just heard it, but in this situation we, external observers, are on the same level as God who is telling us the story. She winks and smiles, and we laugh at her jokes.

If everything is part of the Plan, is it even possible to do a wrong thing?

Both of them are concerned that they did the opposite of what they were supposed to do. And they kinda did. Crawley kicked the Plan into motion, while Aziraphale possibly led to War becoming a thing.

However, isn't all of it, everything, a part of the Plan?

They are aware of the difference between the Good and the Evil, they think that these things are what they are and what they're supposed to do, but with everything being in the Plan, it's nothing more than a stage play where they play their parts as they're supposed to. Unavoidably.

Or do they?

Almost 6000 years later and it's time to end things.

But Crowley has developed a little thingy one could call "free will".

Not wanting to fulfill the plans of Hell that are in correspondence with plans of Heaven, Crowley doesn't put his all into his prescribed function.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale is just Doing What He Wants, Gabriel, on the other hand, is here strictly for business.

Not long after, God graces us with her presence again. This time she explains how the Antichrist got swapped into the wrong family. While she does explain it, we don't get the idea of whether she wanted it to happen.

The thing is that it's demons and angels who move the Plan, people have free will and therefore, they aren't controlled directly by God. But what happens if a demon half-arses his assignment and then a couple or more people misunderstand what's happening? The Plan starts cracking at seams.

The card trick explanation is there not only for the viewer, but maybe for God herself. She never explains her actions, after all.

And does being All-knowing mean that you control everything there is to know or are you simply aware of everything?

And then the Antichrist is named Adam, not as a destroyer of worlds, but as the first human who was created to experience the world purely, as a newborn.

God, who knows everything, uses "perhaps" and "probably" when talking about the third child who we never see again. That shows just how little she cares. He's just a normal human with a normal life. Who cares?

After learning that the world will end, Aziraphale is calm because he's sure his side would win. Crowley doesn't argue with him on that, he simply points out that life in Heaven would be unbearable for someone as accustomed to Earthly pleasures as Aziraphale.

The only thing that can persuade Aziraphale to listen is the perspective of lunch, a small Earthly pleasure that Aziraphale can't refuse himself. Something he wants, not something he has to do.

Crowley's argument for the world is that there are innocent lives that don't deserve to be destroyed. He'd been burnt, he knows what being punished is, especially, punished for something you don't see as a crime.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, believes deep down that every punishment is just because it's inflicted by God who can't be wrong.

And this is Aziraphale's main argument. He's an angel. The main thing angels possess is obedience.

Then Crowley appeals to Aziraphale's programming. Because the Antichrist is of Hell, Aziraphale should try to stop him.

Aziraphale thinks he's doing the right thing, but even then he still slips and reveals a bit of what he's thinking about working with Crowley who can also see that being a real possibility, even if subconsciously. And he knows that it's not the worst thing in the world, even if it's awful.

Heaven is pleased with Aziraphale's actions, but they're also indifferent. He comes off as a bit of a try-hard and they know that the Plan doesn't account for him. Still, their lukewarm reaction is very mild because they don't see yet that Aziraphale is once again led by his wishes.

When the Armageddon draws near, Crowley suggests that Aziraphale could kill the Antichrist. It really sounds weird as Aziraphale is still seen as a goody-two-shoes by the viewers. But the fact is that Crowley simply can't do it himself (he's too soft) while also not seeing any other options, except for asking the only person he trusts to do it. And it's wild, but that's literally his only option.

Aziraphale doesn't refuse to kill the boy, his belief in the greater good is too strong to make murder impossible.

When Crowley asks Aziraphale to not do his magic act, Aziraphale knows he can still do it because that is what he wants. And Crowley won't do anything about it because he's too soft.

And then, as they're ready to act when the Hellhound appears, they wear clothes that are the opposite colours to what they usually wear.

Angels are supposed to obey, but Aziraphale only wants to indulge himself.

Demons are supposed to be evil above all, but Сrowley doesn't have an evil bone in his body.

They don't have the traits of their opposite factions, but they lack their factions' defining traits. As it has been said many times by many people, they are more human.

Crowley has a lighter side (his compassion), Aziraphale has a darker one (his judgement).

Then we meet the actual Antichrist, a boy who want to live a happy life.

God introduces us to him, he's just a boy living his life, unaware of his destiny, unaware of the fact he even has a destiny.

But God knows. God knows.

___________________________________

This is the first part of my analysis. It's based on the first episode. Further parts will follow, one per episode.

I haven't reread the book for this, it's based only on the show, so if you see any points that can be made differently based on the book, don't fault me.

Parts: 1, 2, 3.1, 3.2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12