#I LOVE HOW THEY ANIMATED HIM IN THE PILOT

[thinkingaboutfilm11]

in your compalints about the senna series post, you mentioned how his family is very meddling and controlling. what makes them this way, what have they done? i'm not that aware of the the significance of his family and what they may have said and done, in the past and now, cause i'm a newer fan. can you please explain?

heya Anon!

apologies I spent a while sitting on this, ive been so tired lmao and spent all yesterday on animal crossing in bed.

ANYWAY (I will say a TW here for underaged sex)

Yes it is true (i will include sources below) that Ayrton's family have been very meddling in Ayrton's life, and even now, after being dead for thirty years, they still try and exercise control over his media presence and the way he is shown to the world.

The most significant way they meddeled in his life was primarly though who he dated and his romantic life.

It began at 13 years old when Ayrton first had sex with a prostitute who was very much older than himself, he was pushed into it by his older family members, and even Ayrton himself said in a playboy interview that 13 was considered 'late' in his society to loose his virginity, and it was 'difficult at his age'.

Then, later in life Ayrton was 'encouraged' into multiple relationships, primaraly his one and only wife- a senna family friend, Lilian de Vasconcelos. Although it has never officially been reported as an arranged marriage, myself and other people believe so. I think the main giveaway was that Ayrton refused to marry her in a church, under God's witness. With Ayrton being the extreamley religious man that he was, I find it hard to believe he wouldn't have wanted God involved in such an important undertaking in his life. The marriage lasted 8 months and Ayrton always did his best to sweep it under the rug, saying in later interviews he was 'too young' and there wasn't 'much love between them'.

Ayrton's rather famous engagement with Adriane Yamin was much the same. Their fathers had been friends for many years, they both worked the factory buisness together. Adriane was often accompanied by her enthusiastic family chaperoning whenever her and Ayrton met. (let it be known that although I do believe ayrton was pushed into this relationship by his family, I still very much believe he also had alot of wrong doing on his part for allowing this to go on, and do not support him at all in it.)

Ayrton finally met adriane Galistou, whome he multiple times said was 'the love of his life' (prosenna aside- I do think he liked her alot because she put up with alot of his BS and was good for him). Ayrton's family very much did NOT like adriane, they recorded all his phonecalls with her, refused to interact with her, and also refused to invite her to his funeral, instead inviting Ayrton's ex from 3 years ago. (absolutley disgusting behaviour if you ask me). I think the way the senna family interacted with Adriane Galistou says alot about Ayrton's past relationships, they felt out of control and paniced that Ayrton was doing something off his own violition, and not their own ideals.

Even back in the 80's people rumoured about Ayrton's homosexuality. Many of his relationships seemed fake on the surface, and many believed that they were 'press' relationships, set up by the family to hide the truth. Most prominantly, Ayrton's friend, assistant and helicopter pilot Americo Jacoto Junior accompanied Ayrton wherever he went abroad until 1985, when Ayrton's father forced Ayrton to fire him as the rumours about their homosexual relationship got too strong.

Ayrtons family as I mentioned are also very very picky about his public image. They refuse to aknowledge many aspects of his life, such as his appuling behaviour towards others on track ect, and will sue any media that they believe does not portray the 'correct' image of Ayrton. Any media discussing Ayrton's homosexuality rumours (that have been ongoing since '85) will recieve a cease and dissist from the Senna family, and any media discussing Galistou's relationship with Ayrton recieves the same treatment. The senna family refuse to even say she exists, going as far as banning filmaker Asif Kapidia from using her in the Senna (2010) documentary, and also the upcoming senna series in Netflix. The biggest critiques of the senna (2010) documentary is how one sided it is, and what a poor job it did at giving a fair overview of the whole situation. Kapidia had ten hours worth of interview with Alain for instance, which he never even touched. Again, I believe this is due to the family. They gave over many hours of home movie footage to the filmakers in return for image control over Ayrton, and to this day it is the only documentary they have willingly helped and given their blessing to.

I dont know what it is that motivates their strange behaviour. An unwillingless to let go perhaps, grief is still very strong amongst them all, I dp believe that it can be hard to grieve when the whole world is watching but still- its not acceptable. Perhaps their religious beliefs also clouds their visions, they are scared about Ayrton's image being ruined and he can't be seen as anything other than 'saintly'. They are meddling and wrong.

If Ayrton was homosexual (which I am not sure if I believe- I do think he was bisexual), if he was planning to marry Galistou, ect, nothing can be done about it now. Ayrton is dead, and has been for thirty years, and I think their constant meddling in his image is sad. I think they should just leave it all be, and let him rest. Continue his filanthropy yes, continue his good work and his charity, but leave his personal life at least out of the public's eye, and move on.

(daft coming from me- I know.)

SOURCES:

https://f1i.com/news/367169-ten-years-on-prost-hits-back-at-fake-senna-film.html

http://www.v-brazil.com/culture/Brazilian-celebrities/ayrton-biography.html

https://forums.autosport.com/topic/108051-senna-interview-from-1990/

(I do have another source about Ayrton's arranged marriages but I am struggling to find it. Ill add it here once I have found it.)

If anyone has anything else to add here please do!! i may have made some mistakes! Please remember I am not a researcher I am just a girl with a hyperfocus special subject lmao

[nientedal]

Is it worth watching Megamind rules? I know I’m not the target, but I’m curious yet also really really nervous. I know it’s for a younger audience but I’m still very on the fence and nervous. Also, love your writing

Omg, thank you, and thank you also for asking and yes yes yes 100% it's worth watching! It got crapped on by a bunch of people who decided based on the trailer alone that it was going to suck (how fun, a movie about a guy who everyone decided would be bad despite not knowing him got a spinoff show that...everyone decided would be bad despite not watching it, lol), so there's a lot of hate out there for it. I'm assuming you've caught wind of some of that, and that's why you're nervous? But for what it's worth, I was staring at the screen like :D basically the whole time.

Some more specific notes below the cut, but the tl;dr is please do give it a chance, if you can find the time. A G-rated direct-to-stream spinoff show wasn't what a lot of people were hoping for, and there were some folks who watched it and didn't care for it. But from a writing and storytelling standpoint, I think it is genuinely good! If you go in expecting a cute kids' show with some silly jokes and social misfits finding their way forward together, and keep an open mind, I don't think you'll be disappointed-- in fact I think you may be pleasantly surprised.

Just a gentle heads-up on some stuff because I'm not sure what you've heard about the show yet, and I'm also not sure what your existing expectations are!

The show was given a shoestring budget and not a lot of time to go from writers' room to final product, and yes, there are places where you can tell. But that was always going to be the case-- Dreamworks was absolutely not going to be spending big bucks on a franchise they've barely even acknowledged in more than a decade-- and it wasn't the fault of the people making the show. And even with the low budget, I think the animation is still genuinely solid, especially in later episodes! The people who worked on it really did a great job with what they were given.

And the writing!!! Holy shit!!! My skin is clear my crops are watered etc. The original writers handled this project and they absolutely delivered. Megamind & Roxanne's whole Thing progresses and grows and blooms in a really sweet and realistic way. Roxanne & Chum have a great dynamic. (Minion's name needed to be changed for legal reasons, but the writers worked that into the show and I gotta say, as a trans person, it was really lovely to see everyone else respond to "actually, because of [spoiler], my name is Chum now" with "oh! cool okay" and just keep rolling. I love that that was modeled for kids.) The character development is tangible; we get to watch Megamind really grow as a person and come into his own over the course of the series. And the new characters are really fun-- I genuinely enjoyed Keiko and everyone else.

Even if you never watch it (it's OK if you don't!) please just know: this was not a cash grab; Megamind Rules was made by people who truly cared about this world and these characters.

It's also worth noting that Megamind Versus the Doom Syndicate (the extended pilot) recaps a bunch of the same lessons as the original movie, so it can feel a little bit "...didn't we JUST do this??" but I'm pretty sure that was because Dreamworks didn't want to rely on kids to watch a 13 year old movie rated PG instead of G in order to get context. So like, I get it. And it's still cute! But it did mean I was nervous about what the rest of the series would be like until I was laughing my ass off halfway through Episode 2. If you're nervous, you can probably skip MMVtDS.

But yeah. I truly do think Megamind Rules is worth watching, and I've been so sad about the reception it received. Thank you so much for asking about it, and not just deciding it sucks and moving on. I appreciate you.

[theguffbin]

Best boi Rocky has officially arrived and I love him

[danothan]

sniffs. what changed 😢

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Could you talk more about sephiroth and clouds dynamic/relationship? Especially about sephiroths feelings towards cloud since I personally haven’t seen many people talk about that aspect.

Well, it sort of depends which version of the Final Fantasy VII story you're talking about, because certainly in the original game, Sephiroth actually doesn't care very much about Cloud at all.

During the events in Nibelheim, Sephiroth has a relationship with Zack as a friendly coworker (arguably an actual friend), but Cloud is just some Shinra goon nobody whose name and face Sephiroth doesn't even know. It's not until Cloud confronts him in the Mako reactor and successfully kills him that Sephiroth even sees his face for the first time. Sephiroth doesn't even know Cloud's name in the last few moments of his life, he just sees this enraged kid suddenly find the strength to overpower him and throw him into the reactor core out of nowhere.

After Cloud kills him, well... I would make the argument that Sephiroth never actually comes back. He dies in the throes of a psychotic break where the Jenova cells inside of him are using his emotional anguish to manipulate him towards her own ends, promising him all the love and family and fulfilment and sense of identity that Shinra violently abused out of him. And when he dies, whatever parts of Sephiroth's mind that were left are fully replaced with Jenova's single-minded superobjective to consume the planet and move on to parasitize again.

And so the version of Sephiroth that haunts Cloud for most of the narrative isn't actually Sephiroth the man. Almost every part of that person is long gone. Just like how Jenova used the psychological hook of Sephiroth's mother to control him, "Sephiroth" is mostly the Jenova cells using the hook of Sephiroth's influence over Cloud to try and control him.

And that's why Sephiroth seems so fixated on Cloud - not because Sephiroth the Person actually cares about him, but because the Jenova cells that are spread out across a thousand organisms are calling for Reunion, and they will use whatever psychological hook or crook that can manipulate their hosts to make it happen. The other Jenova victims presumably saw visions just as vivid and personal, urging them on towards the Northern Crater.

Sephiroth seems obsessed with Cloud because Cloud is obsessed with Sephiroth. Sephiroth is this avatar of his trauma, his self-hate, and his deep internal identity crisis, the representation of his every doubt and insecurity. Hence Sephiroth's gleeful constant accusation that Cloud is merely a puppet, Cloud has no personality, Cloud isn't real - these are Cloud's own fears being verbalized against him by the Jenova cells. And it's deeply ironic because the only puppet here is Sephiroth, being piloted by Jenova like an ant by cordyceps.

Hence the very final battle with Sephiroth which takes place not in the depths of the Northern Crater with the party confronting Safer Sephiroth, but in a black and undifferentiated void-space at the end of a psychedelic mind-trip, that Cloud undertakes alone to confront the ghost of Sephiroth in his mind and banish his influence forever. Like, that final moment really is the most This Is Only Happening In Cloud's Mind-ass final boss confrontation imaginable.

But that's the original Final Fantasy VII. The extended FF7 universe pivots hard off of the popularity of Sephiroth as an Iconic Villain and goes about building out him as the central antagonist of the entire universe, and centering him almost obsessively in the extended narrative of Final Fantasy VII.

Advent Children basically retcons the end of Final Fantasy VII, where it turns out oops Cloud didn't actually fully reject Sephiroth's influence over him, here's some Geostigma to represent the haunting malice of this singular villain and here's a 1-to-1 recreation of the final scene from FF7 where Cloud destroys Sephiroth with Omnislash extended out to a gratuitous anime fight scene that ends with an even more awesome ultra-final ultimate Super Omnislash... but then even THAT isn't enough as Sephiroth promises ominously to "never become a mere memory" and he's going to haunt Cloud forever and ooooh maybe he'll be coming back for another seven sequels or something, because the franchise is never ever ever going to let Cloud move on, heal or get better, not so long as Sephiroth is this popular.

Same deal with Kingdom Hearts, which represents Cloud's character as basically revolving entirely around Sephiroth, and Sephiroth as almost romantically obsessed with Cloud, while games like Crisis Core get into the Star Wars Extended Universe business of attaching portentous mythological weight to originally inconsequential objects like the Buster Sword, and building out a grand conspiracy of gene manipulated One Winged Angel People all chasing the coat-tails of Sephiroth's popularity.

All of this comes together in the Final Fantasy VII Remake games, which try to reconcile the extended post-FF7 narrative with the original Final Fantasy VII story, adopting the idea of Sephiroth as the singular operatic puppet master villain of the story, rather than Shinra or Jenova who were the original game's thematic central villains as representations of parasitic and extractive capitalism.

So in these games, Sephiroth is obsessed with Cloud, and seems to see Cloud as his own best chance of salvation from his fate, and there's deep homoerotic tension between the two as Cloud struggles between wanting to kill Sephiroth, and wanting to be with or become him.

Oh, and to be clear, I do love the extended FF7 universe and all the post-original fluff that gets attached to it, I do love Sephiroth and Cloud as this pair of Doomed By The Narrative romantic lover-enemies fated to Toxic Yaoi each other to death forever, and I'm very fond of my good boy Zack, who deserves all the love the games have shown him. I cackled like an absolute hyena when I realized just how far the Final Fantasy VII Remake was going to go in rewriting the story.

It's just also hard not to see Square's treatment of Final Fantasy VII after it became The Iconic JRPG™ as anything other that corporate self-mythologizing and Star Wars style brand management, obsessively building more a marketable facade around the original game focused on its most popular surface-level features, at the cost of obscuring a lot of the subtler themes and ideas of the original game.

Sephiroth is not the main villain of Final Fantasy VII. Extractive capitalism is, and it is embodied by Shinra in the first half, and Jenova in the second half, and both of those antagonistic forces use Sephiroth as a puppet to do their bidding, and a veil to hide the primitive brutality of their consumption. But nobody would ever think that seeing how Sephiroth has been elevated as King Bad Guy of Villain Mountain in the aftermath.

I'm sorry I think this went kind of off the rails from the question you actually asked lol

[thefandomenchantress]

So I watched Hazbin Hotel, (or at least the episodes out so far). And I wasn’t that attached to Vox in the pilot because he was only there for two seconds but he’s now my favorite. I can’t help it he’s so pathetic.

Also I love whenever the animators have him make this face:

Why does he look like a cat??? I noticed the soundwave on his hat looks kinda like cat ears and now I can’t unsee it. How am I supposed to take him seriously when he wears that hat and is constantly making a :3 face? /lh

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Yandere DILF! Reaction to You Having a Boyfriend

Warnings: Yandere Behaviour, Obsessive Behaviour, Possessive Behaviour, Age Gap, Suggestive Themes, Stalking, Monitoring, Implied Yandere MILF, Implicit Threats, Implied Blackmail, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

♡ There is no measure of fury capable of being held or produced by Hell and Earth that can rival that which fires through Dominic’s veins.

♡ At first, he didn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe it. That his (Y/N) would sever his heart from his chest and run it into the ground.

♡ He thinks – knows – that you’re being held against your will. That’s the only reasonable explanation for this…lapse in judgement, as he sees it.

♡ However, when he watches you from his window leaping into your male friend’s arms, being swung in a display of greatest enthusiasm, Dominic knows he’s being delusional. A rare instance of self-awareness.

♡ Initially, he considers this a curse; the fact that your heart lay in the hands of another. But, the longer he stewed over this development, considered any and every point that would grant him vantage, he began to see it as liberation. A cover beneath which he could operate until he struck from the bushes, his viperous intent strengthening.

♡ He is still amidst the throws of fury, but his wrath is not directed towards you. Rather, that juvenile sack of meat and electricity you donated your time to.

♡ Dominic knows that your ‘boyfriend’ will never love you like he does; that you won’t understand how boys are interested in one thing only. Dominic should know; he’d been a young man once. His psychology was his greatest burden and insight.

♡ He starts taking note of your new, adjusted schedule; the days you reserve for your dates – a long-dead excursion in Dominic’s eyes, not having felt any excitement on a ‘date’ aside from his chance encounters with you.

♡ He follows you, sees which restaurants, cinemas, arcades, shopping centres you enter. And, when the moment is right, when he sees the two of you at the pinnacle of happiness, he acts.

♡ In whatever way he can, he breaks up your dates, saying how it’s “Crazy that you’re here, (Y/N) – what a coincidence,”

♡ When you introduce him to your boyfriend, he flashes a smile only he can see is disingenuous. Grabbing your boyfriend’s hand and shaking it with enough force to give the impression that your boyfriend is weak – boneless – compared to Dominic, the former of the two taken off-balance.

♡ “Better watch your step there, Kid,” he says. There’s grit in the road of his voice, but you’re  piloting an aircraft. Your boyfriend is on a bicycle.

♡ “You’re no use to (Y/N) broken,” he jokes. Something flashes behind his eyes. “Or dead.”

♡ He insists that he drop the two of you home. He knows neither of you drove here.

♡ You can’t say no to your favourite neighbour, who lets you sit in the front seat while he makes your tag-along sit in the back like an animal. An outcast.

♡ Anything to make him look weak. Undesirable. The runt of the proverbial litter.

♡ Dominic drops you home. Tells you he’ll be back soon. And, without asking for directions, begins his embarkation to your boyfriend’s home.

♡ Neither say a word to each other. Seemingly aware of their position in each other’s world.

♡ Pulling up outside your third wheel’s house, Dominic leaves him with only a parting phrase.

♡ “Imagine what else I know about you. What little secrets you’ve been keeping.” He serves a frozen stare in the rearview mirror. “If you leave (Y/N) alone, you’ll never have to find out.”

♡ You never saw your boyfriend again after that. Never heard a peep from him over text, never received a call, never even saw him walk down the street.

♡ Of course, you were confused. But more so, you felt uprooted. Forcibly extracted from the life of someone you cared deeply about. Someone who, evidently, didn’t care as much about you.

♡ Eventually, after monitoring you for those first three weeks, those three, long weeks where every inch was laden with shattered glass and stretched on into infinity, Dominic came to you.

♡ Offered you comfort.

♡ He only wished he could have come sooner, but he knew you’d just react with anger. An emotion he couldn’t risk you feeling towards him, even for a second.

♡ And, just as he’d rehearsed a million times, just as he’d lay in bed, sat in his office losing himself to the phantom of your fleeting warmth he’d patchworked together into a blanket from your previous encounters, he came to your door. Knocked. Entered your home. Opened his arms to you.

♡ And the collective euphoria from his every vivid daydream couldn’t compare to the electric joy which made his heart stop. Resuscitated him.

♡ Your head was to his chest before he could encase you in his embrace. He lay his arms upon you, the snake to your Eve, and held you.

♡ “It’s okay, Darling,” he said, his voice low, as if his wife could hear from across the street. Or from the camera she’d implanted into that new vase she’d bought you last week.

♡ You twitched in his arms with every sob. Dominic could feel your tears soaking through his shirt. His now-favourite shirt. One which he’d never wash again.

♡ In his languid daydreams, he’d imagined you thanking him thoroughly for his kindness, his empathy, professing how you’d been so blind to his love before submitting to him entirely.

♡ But, for now, this victory was enough. To have you as close as you’d ever been, your body curled into his chest as he ran a hand through your hair, your warmth leaking into him.

♡ His warmth that he wanted to see leaking out of you.

♡ His lips to your hair, he resisted the tempestuous temptation to take you now. At your most vulnerable, most suggestible. Your most submissive.

♡ To show you that he can please you in ways no mere boy can.

♡ Instead, he took to trying not to inhale your scent, replace one vice with another, to not replenish his memory of you anew.

♡ “I’m here. I’m here.”

♡ His voice is soft, feather-light. It belies all he has done to get to where he is now.

♡ And all he will do to get to where he needs to be.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

AO3 Wattpad

[bratscave]

this blog got me feeling some typa way babesssss

dreaming about a young professor reader who thinks logan is constantly condescending to her when he asks about her lesson plans or curriculum… but he just doesn’t know how to start a conversation with her.

so when she has a bad day and snaps at him about his constant ‘patronizing’ he’s obviously very amused. because he’s honestly been looking for an excuse to chat with the hot, way too young for him piece of ass in a pencil skirt.

bonus points if he bends her over her desk and fucks her like a whore on it. and bonus bonus points if she thinks about it when she comes to her classroom the next day for class to find him leaning on it.

gotta feed the monsters in us i guess

ugh i need to write some logan smut to post already

I LOVE YOUR BLOG ITS SO- *animal noises*

- visionsofcarnality 🤭🫶

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ — a lil' help !

The past few days have been hell, actual fucking hell. You had never imagined that the kids would be so... unnerving. It turned out that they cared a lot less about genetic mutation biology then you would've thought. All you needed was a cigarette and a calm, quiet office for god's sake — no interruptions, especially not logan. “Got your curriculum figured out for next week?” his voice, low and rough, cut through the silence as he leaned against your doorway. You stiffened, feeling that familiar sting of irritation. It was the fifth time this month he’d asked you something like that, and every time, it grated on your nerves. You knew you were younger than most of the faculty, barely in your mid-twenties, but did he have to rub it in with his constant questioning? As if you didn’t know what you were doing. “Yes, Logan,” you replied, barely masking the edge in your voice. “I have it under control.” You didn't like how your words had absolutly no affect on him, he didn't move, didn't budge, didn't back down. It was like he was waiting or searching for something, “You sure about that? You look like you could use some help.” “I don’t need your help, Logan. I don’t need you constantly questioning me about my lesson plans, my missions or my fucking curriculum. I’ve been doing this for years, and I don’t need some — some condescending jackass acting like I’m not capable.” His mouth parted in surprise yet his lips twitched in amusement, "Really? Is that what you think I’ve been doin’? Condescending to you?” You shake your head, looking through the papers for tommorow, you couldn't deal with this today, "Yes, that's what I think." Logan pushed himself of the door frame, his fingers instantly moving to your shoulders like he was trying to reassure you, "You're young. You're new and you're trying your best, but you're feeling a bit...overwhelmed." You took another puff, finally looking up to his face. "I appreciate," the tone you use sounds almost sarcastic, "your concern but I'm getting by just fine." Yet you feel his finger absentmindedly trace over the skin of your neck as you lean back ever so slightly, almost on auto pilot. “Logan,” you said, trying to inject some authority into your voice whilst putting out the cig in a close ash tray but it came out breathier than you intended- His proximity was doing things to you, things you didn’t want to acknowledge, let alone act on. But Logan, perceptive as always, didn’t miss a beat. He didn't decide to comment on the little faltter in your voice, just brushes one of your hair strands behind your ear, the action feels intimate, a bit to much so. His hands work on gently pushing you down onto the desk, your face pressed against the cold surface, his rough fingers work on riding up your skirt. If you're not mistaken you can hear the fabric of your panties ripping as you scoff, "Y'know you could've just taken them off." It sounds more like a statement then a question, not that you'd really be intrested in one when all you could think bout was his dick. "That's no fun," you could faintly make out, the dull sound of his belt hitting the floor also, "You don't even understand how much i've been imagining you, like this — you, and your damn skirts." Your hands clench into fists on the desk, your knuckles turning white as you try to keep some semblance of control as he thrusts into you. He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he pounds into you, his breath hot against your ear. “This what you needed, darlin’?” he growls, his voice rough and strained with his own pleasure. “Needed someone to fuck that stress right outta you?” He’s fucking you like an animal, hard and fast, and it’s exactly what you needed. The desk creaks beneath the force of his thrusts, with this pace you could perfectly forget about all those kids that make you lose more and more brain on the daily. That's exactly what you think about when you see logan leaning against your desk the next day, all innoccently yet gazing u you like he was about to eat you alive, in front of countless of children.

You could certaintly use his help every now and then — not on the curriculum of course.

[kayjaywrites]

Like Bugs in a Rug: Chapter One

Summary: Azriel Shadowsinger, mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, was head over heels in love with you for years. Everyone in the room could see it, except for you of course. A series of connected one-shots.

Chapter Word Count: 6,350 Chapter Music Inspo: End of It - Friday Pilots Club

Chapter Content Warnings: fluff, some cursing, one bed trope, awkward but wholesome communication, AFAB Reader, Reader (You), some details about Reader's appearance but overall vague, canon plot spoilers as this is canon compliant-ish, reader low key being thirsty for Azzie

Note: Hello! Welcome to my first fic in like 10 years! This idea came about when I was having a hard time falling back asleep. I sometimes draft fanfiction when i'm trying to sleep. I don't often remember the plots come morning, but the memory of this one remained intact enough for me to jot down. I’m thinking this update is gonna be the longest chapter because it's both prologue and the first chapter, but I have terrible self control with word count limits. So I guess we’ll see what the next chapters bring, but they may be shorter!

Enjoy me 2am fugue state musings, there are likely typos~

XxXx

Prologue

It was all worth it. The decades of patience and silent suffering. The centuries of loneliness paying off just as you lost hope of ever leaving The Court of Nightmares. You and your father, Kier, expected a typical visit from the Inner Circle. The High Lord would threaten your father to keep him in line, you’d go unnoticed in the back of the throne room monitoring the interaction. Just like every other time they visited.

Except, the High Lord and his Inner Circle asked about you like you were the reason behind their visit. You had clocked the visit as odd as soon as only Rhysand, Feyre, and Mor arrived. The absence of both The General & Shadowsinger at the same time a rarity. Despite being related to Rhysand and Mor, you didn’t think they knew your name, so when they asked Kier about you, by name, your heart damn near fell out of your ass.

They wanted you to leave Hewn City to work with them. A Courtier of the Night Court, working alongside Nesta, Lady Death herself, of all people. They wanted you to start immediately now that the war with Hybern was over. Relations between Courts were strained, and upon learning of your talent, the High Lord deemed it a waste for you to be hidden away down here. He and the Inner Circle believed you did not belong in The Court of Nightmares. To anyone else, having the High Lord speak so highly of your child would have been an honor.

It was the most furious you’d ever seen Kier. Which was saying something. His emotions grew volatile in a blink of an eye, outraged by the absolute gall of the High Lord. How dare he come to his city and tell him that you weren’t meeting your full potential down here? At some point Kier stood up, snarling at Rhysand and the others like a wild animal. Kier, so lost in his anger, let his mental shields falter. Just for a second, but it was more than enough time for your powers to draw his wayward thoughts to you, like a magnet, his unspoken intentions seeped into your own mind. You were always terrible at blocking him out when he got like that.

Power. Kier's thoughts whispered to you. A spy for him in the Inner Circle.

It disgusted you how predictable your father was, his intentions were always about how he could best use you for his own gain. It was the driving force behind your excessive training habits, desperate to protect yourself from the toxicity of his intentions. The more you failed at keeping him out, the more you hated him, and by default hated yourself.

Rhysand was right, you were wasted down here, and it wasn’t that your father didn’t see that, he didn’t care. He wasn’t furious with the High Lord for taking another daughter away from him, he was mad about losing a tool.

Well, your father could rot down here alone for all you cared.

You felt a lot of things in that moment. Intimidated by the prospect of working with Nesta, unsure of Mor’s morals and the rumors surrounding her, apprehensive of Rhysand and Feyre’s power, and not to mention all the unknown dynamics between the rest of the Inner Circle. But, despite all that uncertainty, you did not feel nervous about leaving Hewn City with them.

The first task Kier ever appointed you was to report on Rhysand and his Inner Circle’s intentions every time they visited. Either they all had flawless control over their mental shields, or their icy behavior was an act from the beginning. You never dared to share your suspicions with Kier, your father only wanted ammo for his hate, and he never took kindly to evidence that didn’t support his biases against High Lord Rhysand.

It felt a little too much like blind faith and a hunch for you to be 100% comfortable with the decision, but you decided to put your trust in these strangers anyway.

You would take the job.

Not to be a spy for Kier.

Not out of some duty to your High Lord or older sister.

It was time to live your life for you. Consequences be damned.

But, the focus of this story was not about moving to Velaris with Mor and getting to know the Inner Circle. It wasn’t about how much you rock as a diplomat for the Night Court. It wasn’t about how good it felt the first time sunlight touched your skin upon leaving the underground city. It wasn’t even about how you and Nesta became best friends. However good those stories may be.

However, this story is about Azriel Shadowsinger, and how the mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, fell head over heels for you without you ever picking up on it. Yeah, that’s right, the girl who struggled to control her talent for hearing unspoken intentions never puzzled the pieces together. For literal years everyone else in the godforsaken room could tell the Spymaster was in love with you, except for you.

...one year and a couple months later....

It all started with an argument with Rhysand a few assignments into your career as the Night Court Courtier. You felt like you could handle traveling between Courts without needing an escort, especially if you’d be meeting up with Nesta at the destination anyway. Rhysand did not agree, basically threatening to ground you if you didn’t allow someone to accompany you.

That was how Azriel had become your full-time travel partner. Rhysand appointed Azriel as an additional escort in case Nesta was pulled away.

You’d take this to your grave before ever admitting it, but Rhysand wasn’t wrong to be worried. There had been a good number of times where just that had happened. Nesta would be working the other side of the room, and having Azriel lingering nearby eased your nerves. Prythian was a vast Realm, and Rhys had been right in worrying about your adjustment.

It didn’t take too long for you to adapt once you had visited all the different Courts a few times. Yet, Azriel continued to go out of his way to accompany you to events. The first obvious sign of his affections for you came a little over a year into your career.

The event was in a small Day Court town on the border of the Night Court, just under a day’s travel from Velaris on foot. Home to one of the libraries hit hardest by Amarantha’s looting, the entire town was celebrating the return of a sizable chunk of the stolen volumes. The gala was advertised to be a quaint dinner and cocktail hour. You suspected that scholars and book enthusiasts would be the bulk of those present. Although interested in going, Rhysand had High Lord duties to attend to that involved Nesta and the other Archeron sisters in the Summer Court. With a promise to fill everyone in on anything of interest, you packed a small overnight bag and waited for Mor to arrive home. You never developed the ability to winnow, so you needed someone to bring you.

Fussing with your hair in one of the numerous mirrors decorating Mor’s walls, you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. Your time in Velaris, just over two years, had already begun to sooth a deep sadness you hadn’t realized had settled under your skin. It was obvious in the gentle way you gazed at your reflection, the healthy flush of your cheeks, and the warmth of your thoughts. Velaris looked good on you, and as you smoothed a hand down the shimmery sapphire blue fabric of the dress that clung to your curves, you thought the new formalwear looked good on you too.

Giddiness bubbled up in you at the idea of modeling the new dress for Mor. The excitement felt foreign still, after spending centuries believing Mor didn’t care to know her own little sister. You never thought you’d ever get the chance to gush over dresses with her. Kier hated everything Mor represented, and was cruel to her in ways that made you feel lucky in a perverse way. Your father may have manipulated and alienated you, filling your head with lies about your older sister, but it was never public. Kier made sure everyone in the Court of Nightmares knew that Mor was a useless whore and a traitor.

When Mor became a core member of the Inner Circle, and Rhysand put her in charge of Hewn City, you would wait for her to acknowledge you during her visits. Decades turned into a century, but the same hope would always rise up when Mor was due for a visit, only to be crushed when she ignored you. She never paid you a second of her time, just a fleeting look in passing as if you were another spectator. Knowing that she wasn’t ignoring you out of ill intent stung more, because you couldn’t bring yourself to hate her.

Kier may be your father, but that didn’t mean you had to be a fan of his intentions. You never believe the rumors he spread about Mor.

And then, the big reveal came. It turned out that to Mor, you were just another spectator. Mor didn’t know she had a younger sister at all. Keir hid you so well that no one realized you were related to him. A detail that made you feel so small when it came to light. You were just the shy woman in the background, taught to be pleasant when spoken to, a pretty little wallflower the rest of the time.

Later, when you asked about who first realized your identity, you got mixed accounts from the Inner Circle. Rhysand insisted that it was he who put the pieces together first. Stating that it came to him suddenly after Azriel submitted a report from a surveillance mission detailing an overheard conversation between you and Kier about your talents. Rhysand claimed that your powers reminded him of a variation of Mor’s. The rest of the Inner Circle credited Feyre for noting the resemblance between you, Kier, and The Morrigan the first time she noticed you loitering at the back of a council meeting.

When the truth was confirmed, and you agreed to go with them, Mor wept. She vowed to never leave you alone in The Court of Nightmares ever again, even for a second. That promise was your first experience with making a deal in the Night Court. Your clear surprise at the intricate tattoo that branded itself over the center of your sternum clued Mor, Rhysand, and Feyre in on how out of touch you were with common lore from your own Court. Mor wasted no time in winnowing you out of there after that. The both of you had heard enough of Keir’s nasty sneers and low-blow comments to last a lifetime.

Now, Mor’s cozy little home was also your cozy little home, if not a bit tight for two people. If someone asked you a decade ago if you thought you’d ever have a relationship with Mor you would advise them to seek out a healer.

And yet there you were, vibrating with things to tell her, anticipating her arrival with an almost goofy grin when…Azriel of all people winnowed into the living room.

Perplexed, but not totally disappointed, “Oh!” you said, clearly taken aback. “I was expecting Mor.”

Azriel huffed a low chuckle, dimples bracketing his amused half-smile. “Sorry to disappoint.”

You looked him over, dark circles under his eyes, droopy eyelids, posture leaning forward in a slight slouch. “Az, didn’t you just return from a long mission? Why aren’t you resting?”

“Wanted to escort you to the Day Court Library Gala, of course.”

The tenderness in his voice had warmth bubbling up from your chest. “That is very kind,” you started, making sure to meet his gaze so he knew you meant it, “but you look so tired, Az. I’ve visited the Day Court a bunch of times now and only need someone to winnow me there. As much as I enjoy having you accompany me to these things, I don’t want you to stretch yourself thin on my account. I’ve got this.”

“I know you’ve got this,” came his immediate reply, “as you’ve pointed out I’ve been gone for a few weeks. What if I offered to escort you because I missed you, hm?”

Despite yourself you felt a flush of heat in your cheeks at his teasing. You refused to use your powers on anyone in the inner circle, unwilling to violate their privacy without explicit consent. But you didn’t need your powers to read Azriel’s sincerity. It made it hard to meet his gaze, you turned back to running your fingers through your hair in the mirror, taking a moment to compose yourself. “Well alright then, I don’t think I can do anything more to tame my hair, we should be off then.”

You felt Azriel at your back, a gloved hand coming up to gently grasp your elbow, guiding your arm down as his hand trailed down the bare skin of your forearm to hold yours, turning you to face him. “Stop fussing, you look stunning, this dress is new, right? I think the color suits you.”

You smiled. “Thank you, I suppose you would like this color, now that I’m thinking about it,” with your free hand you held up the skirt of the floor length dress to the siphon on his wrist, marveling at the color match, “it looks like I did it on purpose.”

He hummed in acknowledgement as he pulled you closer into an almost embrace. “We should go now. Wouldn’t want to miss the opening speeches.”

You suppressed a shudder. Definitely from the way his breath tickled your ear, and not from the way his voice sounded as he tucked you into his chest. “You hate opening speeches.” You pointed out, remembering all the times he complained about how boring they were.

“I do, but you like them.” You’d never said as much aloud, but you did enjoy listening to people talk about things they were passionate about, and opening speeches tended to be just that. Of course the Spymaster had noticed.

If Azriel saw your smile before you hid your face against his leather-clad pec he didn’t let on. You pulled your hands free and looped your arms around his middle, clasping your fingers together under the base of his wings.

“I’m ready then, thank you for coming with me.” Your voice was muffled, unwilling to tilt your head up to talk to him in case your maddening blush was there. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you winnowed with Az, your whole face would go cherry red. Something Cassian never failed to poke fun at whenever he witnessed it.

Azriel wrapped his arms tightly around you, your body now flush to his. You focused on the sound of his wings rustling as he tucked them in closer. Anything to distract from the way your pulse spiked when you felt his lips brush against the crown of your head, his hold on you gentle, yet firm and protective as darkness folded around the both of you.

XxXx

Neither you nor Azriel realized the issue with your room reservation until much too late. Upon arrival in The Day Court the both of you hurried to the event. The gala wrapped up around midnight, and like most of the other guests staying in town, you and Azriel retired back to the nearby Inn. With your strappy heels in hand and a pleasant buzz from the alcohol, you felt positively bubbly. Paused in front of your room, you let Azriel rummage through the small black purse at your side for the key. After almost leading them into the wrong room, Azriel took it upon himself to find the correct room and unlock the door.

Minutes later you were still trying to suppress a smile at how Azriel reacted with such mortification when he realized you’d led them to the wrong room. The mental image of the great Shadowsinger so frantic in his efforts to stop you from further jostling the doorknob, had you letting out a laugh before you could stop it.

“It’s not funny.” He grumbled as he swung the wooden door to your room open, leading you inside. You were on the verge of poking fun at him some more when you caught a glimpse of the interior layout. Right, you had RSVP’d expecting to attend the gala alone. The realization sobered you up real fast.

The room was small, burgundy curtains concealing a sizable window, antique desk with tourist flyers stacked in a neat pile on top. A queen sized, four post bed situated in the middle of the room.

“I’ll take the floor—” Azriel started saying.

But you interrupted him. “—you should have the bed.”

“Absolutely not, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let a lady sleep on the floor while I hogged the whole bed.” He nodded, as if the conversation was over, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes at him.

“There’s not even enough space on the floor for you to stretch out Az. The room is basically only bed. It’s fine, I can use my extra clothes—”

You inhaled sharply, tensing at the thought of your overnight bag, left forgotten back at Mor's apartment. Your eyes darted to Azriel, meeting his gaze out of the corner of your eye, and you knew you didn’t need to say anything about it as he scoffed under his breath.

“You forgot your bag.” He observed.

Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair, your tight dress feeling like it was constricting around your chest as you contemplated sleeping in it. “I did indeed forget my bag.”

“We could just go back, we don’t have to stay here for the night.” Azriel pointed out, but the thought of cutting the trip short caused a ripple of disappointment to drop in your stomach.

“Or,” he continued with a hint of amusement, “I have an undershirt beneath my leathers. I changed before I met you at Mor’s, so it’s relatively clean. I was going to sleep in it tonight, but I would sacrifice my shirt for you if it meant you’d stop frowning like that.”

If you thought you were anxious before, Azriel’s suggestion sent your anxiety through the roof. You had always found Azriel attractive, even when you were still living in Hewn City. Who wouldn’t? That attraction grew into a bit of a crush when you first arrived in Velaris. He treated you with such care as you adjusted to living above ground, quiet, patient, and thoughtful.

Once it was apparent that you would be working closely with him you shut that shit down. You and him had spent a lot of time traveling together the last few years, always with separate sleeping arrangements, and never sharing clothing. You went out of your way to respect his privacy, give him space, all in hopes of being someone he one day could trust, like how you trusted him.

You could handle one night, sharing a bed, borrowing his shirt. That wouldn’t totally backfire on you in any way, right? Nodding to yourself once, you tried for an air of confidence as you talked around the nerves that have bloomed in your chest.

“Okay,” you agreed, “but if I change into your shirt you definitely can’t take the floor. I won’t let you sleep shirtless on the ground while I’m all tucked in and cozy in bed. I’ll only take up a sliver of it by myself anyway.”

He opened his mouth to object, his intentions written in the way his brow furrowed at you. But you barreled on anyway, “So, we share the bed tonight. Are you comfortable with that?”

His mouth snapped shut, eyes studying you for a tense moment as if you may be tricking him. You clasped your hands together in front of you, the longer you waited for him to respond the clammier your palms felt. Each second felt like an eternity and in no time at all you found yourself scrambling for a way to play off your idea as a joke.

Of course he wouldn’t want to share a bed with you. What in the world had you been thinking?

Maybe you could blame it on that deliciously fizzy drink you downed before leaving the gala, say you weren’t in your right mind. Pretend to not remember in the morning, as if this wasn’t going to be a moment you cringe about decades later. Would you be able to just laugh it off? Would Azriel be chill enough to let you live this down? You were probably so screwed.

He was still a little tense, but just before your panic truly took root Azriel began to nod his head like he...agreed with you?

“Yes, I think that is the most logical solution. The bed can definitely fit two.” Azriel finally said, and you tried to keep yourself from gaping at his response. But your surprise must have been all over your face because he went on to say, “I didn’t suggest it myself because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Wiping your hands down the front of your dress did little to help with the sweat. The pit that had been taking form in your stomach churned, your dread morphing into jittery nerves.

Then, as if you weren’t having a nervous breakdown right in front of him, the handsome lunatic started striping his leathers off. Dept hands tossing his gloves to the desk, he unclasped the chest pieces of his leathers, they fell to the floor with a thud. Then, the promised black undershirt was up over his head, and you were drinking in all his tattoos and corded muscles like you were a tactless teenager instead of a 300+ year old female.

A flash of movement from him, and you flinched when his shirt hit you square in the face. It was so big it draped over your head. You made a disgruntled noise, ignoring how delicious the shirt smelled as you removed it from your face, “Hey—!”

“If you’re done gawking at me like you’ve never seen a shirtless male, you can get ready for bed first.” He headed further into the room, collecting his chest piece off the floor and approaching the desk to place it with his gloves. He turned to face you, his butt propped against the desk as he gestured to the door his wingspan had been blocking from view. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, flexing his biceps, and you almost swooned at the sight. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Your fist tightened around the shirt, fighting the urge to toss it back at him out of spite. Embarrassment felt like hot iron under your skin, so instead you snapped your attention to the door he had pointed out–the bathroom. You knew you’d averted your gaze much too fast to seem unaffected by him. He chuckled, and you glowered at him as his head tilted to the side, watching you with a bemused expression. He looked about ready to comment further, but you waved him off with faux-annoyance and an exaggerated roll of your eyes. Clutching his shirt close to your chest, you escaped into the bathroom.

Subtle.

Pressing your back to the door, it closed under your weight. You paused there for a moment to focus on your breathing, your frazzled mind going a mile a minute. This was all so far out of your comfort zone, it wasn’t even funny. You never had to deal with handsome males in The Court of Nightmares, Kier didn’t let you socialize long enough for it to even be on your radar. Dating hadn’t quite made your list of top priorities upon arriving in Velaris either.

What little experience you did have was with a male named Allistair. You’d met him at Rita’s within your first year above ground. It was a fling of sorts that lasted a few months before you decided casual dating wasn’t for you. He was a perfectly adequate lover. At least you think he was. He was also your only lover. A nice enough companion as you acclimated to your new life. The times you had been intimate with that male had left you feeling…bereft. Seeing Allistair shirtless had been nothing like seeing Azriel shirtless.

And Azriel calling you out for ogling him so blatantly? Mother have mercy.

So now you were just expected to fall asleep next to him wearing his shirt after that? The situation almost made you want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. The last thing you wanted was to draw his suspicion by loitering against the door for too much longer, so you moved to the sink. Maybe splashing lukewarm water on your face would reveal that this had all been a weird ass nightmare.

Cupping water into your face a couple more times, you took in the smeared makeup dripping down your face in the mirror. Definitely not a dream.

Azriel was going to think you were in love with him for fucksake.

Snatching the nearby hand towel from the rack on the wall you soaked it, and got to work on scrubbing your face clean. You had to have a little more faith in Azriel. He wouldn’t let a single weird moment ruin over a year of amicable teamwork. But your personal relationship with him felt fragile to you at best. You can't let some tattoos and abs mess up what you considered to be the most solid friendship you’d made among the Inner Circle.

So what if he was hot as hell? You could co-exist with attractive people, it was legit a part of your job. You could salvage the situation, just change out of the dress you accidentally matched to the colors of his siphons, put his shirt on that smelled so strongly of him it gave you a headrush, and face him like you hadn't just been drooling over his naked chest.

You know, simple.

The hem of his t-shirt landed just above your knees, and the comfort you found in it was criminal. The black fabric was very soft and so baggy that you worried the wing slits in the back would shift forward in your sleep. It could reveal a little more than what you’d considered 'tasteful side boob'.

Resisting the urge to fuss in the mirror (because it wasn't like you were trying to look cute for anyone, right?), you exited the bathroom clean faced and a bit more settled than when you had entered.

Your bravado, however, was short lived. Azriel faced away from you in only his underwear, the rest of his leathers added to the pile on the desk. He was organizing his various knives on the bedside table closest to the main door.

He looked over his shoulder at you. Totally not catching you checking out his butt in the tight underpants. Cauldron boil you. Would it be weird if you marched yourself back into the bathroom to try the whole “not affected by sexy, almost nude Illyrian warrior” thing again?

Azriel inhaled sharply, and you snuck a glance at him. His attention was back on his knives, but there was a tension to him, almost like he was brooding. There might have been a light blush over his cheeks, but you felt weird analyzing him anymore than you already had out of habit. You clocked the change in his body language for what it was the instant he saw you in his shirt. Clenched jaw, tense shoulders, spine ramrod straight, wide eyed before averting his gaze, elevated heart rate–classic signs of attraction. Reactions he clearly didn’t want you to notice.

"I'm taking this side." He informed almost absently, patting the mattress. Leaving you with the window side.

You wandered to the desk to avoid observing him further, wishing that you could turn off the part of you that always seemed to be prying for more information. And then you felt it, his thoughts getting louder, his emotions growing wilder, reaching out to you. You slammed your mental shields up hard, a gross feeling taking root when it was too late.

Protect. Azriel’s intentions conveyed to you. Protect. Comfort. Provide. Here you were invading his private thoughts without his knowledge, while he was concerned with your wellbeing. What was the point of all that effort Rhysand put into teaching you how to better control your mental shields? It never worked when you needed it most. The failure stung, and you had to busy yourself with folding your dress in a neat square so you had something to keep your hands from shaking.

It was quiet for too long, and you struggled with recalling what he had said to you before you’d lost control. Something about the bed. "Sounds good to me." You decide on saying, placing your dress next to his leathers.

Azriel didn’t seem to find your reply out of the ordinary. Small mercies.

"I'll be out in a few minutes, then." His voice was rougher than before, and it sent chills down your spine. As soon as you heard the bathroom door click shut you scurried into bed. You couldn’t get under the covers fast enough, pulling the blankets up to your neck with a hefty sigh of relief.

It felt awesome to be laying down after such a long evening on your feet. Too bad you couldn’t enjoy it more, instead drowning under waves of shame. Maybe you’d never get a full handle on your powers. Maybe the Mother was teaching you a lesson in this life? You couldn’t fathom what the moral could be. You wanted more than anything to be able to mind your business.

You wished you could turn your brain off. Alas, even your guilt couldn’t stop you from reflecting and organizing what you’d just observed. Not only had you heard his intentions, but you also felt them. Unlike the sweet warmth of his thoughts, his gaze had felt like desire and bad decisions.

He didn’t seem like he was actively seeking to bed you. You reasoned that you were also an available female wearing nothing but his shirt and a pair of panties. You could only imagine how all of that must have chafed against his Illyrian instincts. Rhysand had once mentioned that Illyrians were possessive and protective at best, controlling and jealous at their worst.

Surely those possessive instincts were what you were picking up on, then. You were covered in his scent after all. That was the only logical explanation for his reaction, his instincts were telling him to protect you because you were vulnerable and wearing his clothing. Even if it didn’t quite sound right to you, it was the only explanation you were willing to entertain. You were barely friends, there was no way Azriel wanted to court you. The thought sent a fleeting pang of disappointment through you that you refused to examine.

Whatever. There wasn’t anything you could do to make the situation less messy right now. You were exhausted, and stewing on scenarios that would never amount to anything real was unlike you.

Snuggling further into the sheets, you decided it was best to just pretend you hadn’t noticed shit. The damage was done, Azriel wasn’t dumb, he at least knew he had flustered you. You weren’t going to draw any more attention to that tonight. Or tomorrow. Or ever. Everything about this night was a fluke.

Azriel returned from the bathroom, and you kept your focus on fluffing your pillows. Sitting up you tossed an extra pillow onto the floor, and you could feel as soon as his eyes landed on you that some of his…instincts…were still acting up. You pulled the comforter back up to your neck as he got into bed next to you. Turning on your side to face him you were determined to be normal. No more awkward gawking allowed tonight.

He stretched his arms up above his head, his joints popping a million times as he groaned in relief. You couldn't help chuckling at him, the fearsome Shadowsinger of the Night Court, doing something so mundane.

Scooting further onto the bed, Azriel rolled over to meet your gaze, his wings tucked close to his back as he settled. Most of his wingspan spilled over the side of the bed anyway. He surveyed you, eyes lingering along your tired but genuine smile, and you saw the stern tenseness slowly leave his body. "You sure you're comfortable with this?" He asked.

Your smile turned a tad warmer. This male was just so kind, so different from what you knew in Hewn City. "I am, I trust you Azriel." It was the truth. You didn't have friends growing up, and although you may have a long way to go before Azriel truly called you his friend, you considered him a dear (sexy) friend.

Your words seem to settle something in him, and you could have sworn you saw something almost affectionate flash across his face. You blink, and it's gone, but the fuzzy feeling it left in your chest remained.

Like he sensed your mushy thoughts, he ruined the moment. "So I have to ask you something, it’s serious.”

Your brows raised in bemused interest, the scenario with him wishing to court you snapping to the forefront of your mind again. He’d always been very attentive to you, but in a worried protective way. You’d never picked up on any romantic intentions from him before, and he’s not the type to make a decision like that on a whim. The chance was small, but you couldn’t 100% rule out him wanting to ask you out. Could you say no to him? Would you even want to say no? You’d never considered this as an option before!

He held your gaze, as if for dramatic effect and then with the seriousness of a top notch spymaster he asked you, “You have seen a shirtless male before...right?"

Maybe it was a mistake to consider this male kind, he was a menace all along.

You had never rolled your eyes so hard at someone. Unbelievable.

Turning away from him with enough force to toss your hair in his face, you are rewarded with the sound of his indignant grunt.

"Can you turn the light off please?" You snap, unable to rein in your annoyance. Unsettled by how it tasted almost like rejection.

"You didn't answer my question." He goaded, and you fell right for it.

"Yeah, because it's a silly question." You fire back.

He hummed at your response, "Doesn't seem like you think it's a silly question."

You would rather swallow your own tongue than admit to Azriel that you’d seen shirtless males, but he had been the first you’d enjoyed seeing shirtless.

Done with the line of questioning, you blindly flung your arm back, swatting at him. He startled at the contact, and he exhaled a scoff when you didn't stop flopping your arm at him after the first blow.

He caught your wrist, stilling your flailing. "Fine, fine, I'll drop it," He let go of your wrist, “for now.”

You shifted to burrow further into your pillows, totally not dwelling on how his big hand wrapped around your wrist made you feel dainty. The texture of his scars hadn’t made your heart skip a beat either. Nope. Not at all.

"Could you shut the light off please." You asked again with more venom than you intended. It bothered you how easy this male could get under your skin. He wasn’t even trying.

You felt his weight shifting, the bed frame squeaking a bit as he moved. "Anything for you, Princess." He shuffled a little more, and then the light went off, casting the both of you in darkness.

The nickname made you grimace into your pillow. No one had ever called you that before, and you really didn’t want it to catch on.

You felt him return to the position on his side facing you. Some moments passed in loud silence, and although you were the one that let the conversation drop, the residual tension in the room was killing you. There was no way you would be able to fall asleep, and you would bet that Azriel was stewing in the tension too.

"Az?" You whispered. His response was quick like he’d been waiting on edge for you to speak, "Yes?"

"Goodnight." And you found yourself meaning it. You hoped he got some sleep tonight despite the turmoil he had so effortlessly sowed in your stomach with his teasing. The prick.

You could practically hear the mischief in his voice. "Sleep well, princess."

Ugh. Your stomach coiled, but not in an entirely unpleasant way. Very dangerous. It was an inappropriate reaction, and you wrote it off as stress. However as hard as you wished to forget it, you wouldn’t be forgetting how Azriel had made you feel that night anytime soon.

Even your racing thoughts couldn’t stop sleep from finding you, putting you out of your misery.

And if you woke up to the sounds of song birds that morning, your face pressed against Azriel's neck, your body sprawled atop him while he slept on his back, then that was your business. No one would know if you relished being in his arms a few minutes longer than necessary. You wouldn’t confirm nor deny if one of his hands had looped through a wing hole of his borrowed shirt, his fingers resting just under your breast.

And so what if it had been the best sleep you'd gotten since leaving Hewn City. And if Azriel seemed more well rested than usual on your return to the Night Court, you certainly didn't notice that either.

XxXx

Next Chapter

[dearsnow]

Thinking about neighbor & childhood friend Bob :)

Bobby, who plays pretend with you whenever you want— who likes to imagine himself as a pilot in a really fast jet, and you as his air traffic controller. Who always lets you take the lead until you want him to, who laughs and giggles when you play with his glasses. Whose mom makes you lunch, and invites you in with open arms because she knows how much her son adores you. Bobby, who broke his foot tripping on a river stone, who you comfort when he realizes he can’t get his cast wet. Who blows on dandelions and wishes that you’ll be around forever. Who is loyal and steadfast and trustworthy, who you whisper all your secrets to with the assurance that he will never tell. Bobby, who even though he doesn’t know what it is, loves you like his heart loves beating.

Robert, who hates it when anyone but you calls him “Bobby”. Who listens to rock and combs his hair back and pretends to roll his eyes when his mom coos over how cute the two of you are. Who still looks out for you, protecting you. Who secretly reads comics under his sheets late at night, when everyone else is asleep. Who still does well in school, and cares about the people around him, and is kind, despite everyone around him growing into unruly teens. Robert, who started wearing contacts. Who you go to the mall with, and who buys the things you say you like without you knowing. He’ll gift them to you later, whenever an event calls for it. Who eats like a man starved, especially if it’s a new recipe you tried out. Who stands up for you when you’re teased or picked on and helps his mom with chores without being asked. Who lets you play with his fingers and mess up his hair. Robert, who blushes when you’re near, and who is starting to realize that he’s never felt that way about anyone else before.

Rob, who is more grown up now. Who has straightened out his life and has a clear vision for the future. Who never left behind his love for animals and comics and flying. Who takes you out to eat with money from his new job. Who kisses his mom goodbye without a hint of his former semi-shame. Who doesn’t mind when people call him “Bobby”, because they always have and probably always will. Who comes to terms with his emotions and finally settles every grudge he held. Rob, who treats everyone with a patient sort of care and never gets into spats. Who appreciates everything anyone has ever done for him. Who signs up for the Naval Academy and works hard to get into shape. Who knows he’ll have a lot of teary goodbyes, yet knows that it’s something he has to do. Rob, who asks you out formally and finally puts to action every single loving thought he’s ever had about you.

And, finally, the Bob that people know and love. Who didn’t quite meet the vision requirements to be a pilot, but accepted the next best thing with grace. Who sends you letters periodically, packed full of everything he ever thought while he was away. Who lays in bed and dreams of coming home to you. Who treats everyone with respect and keeps a careful eye on those less experienced than him. Who is goofy and nerdy but self-assured enough to know that himself is all he could ever hope to be. Who makes friends, despite his quiet, observant nature, and keeps them close to his heart. Bob, who never forgets the people back in the place he grew up. Who loves openly and unashamedly. Who gets scared, sometimes, that he won’t ever be able to go home. Who puts aside those thoughts because he is needed in the air and on ground, and he cannot let them cloud his judgment. Who finally comes home and hugs his parents, laughing with his siblings. Who walks up to your house and kisses you with a passion. Bob, who gets down on one knee and promises to you that as long as you wear his ring on your finger, you will never have to wait to feel his love.

(This is brainstorming and vibes for my upcoming Bob fic, “A Waiting Game” <3 I hope I get around to finishing it, as I’m 3k words in and still dealing with little Bobby lol)

[small-world-au]

Ramshackle Stone facts you might have/haven’t heard of before!

By yours, truly :333

(FYI, some of these fact are super old and might’ve changed for current canon!)

Stone’s name isn’t ACTUALLY Stone! It’s his last name!

His first name could possibly be Eric, Phillipé, or Cecil! As stated by Zeddyzi on one of her older posts.

(I personally think Eric suits him better!)

He has a fear of rats/mice/and death!

He’s possibly aromatic and Demi.

He hates bananas cuz of their texture!

He’s into astronomy! 🪐

It’s possible that in the future he’ll open up in future, but he’ll just stick to smoking and drinking for now. (He’s a VERY private person!)

He’s a big crybaby. (And me too :3)

He can’t fuckin dance.

He listens to Nirvana! (Is that how u spell it????)

He has a love/hate relationship with his violin. 🎻

He can also be quite childish when it comes to potty humor.

He’s actually super sweet and sentimental when sober!

He’s the most happiest when he’s surrounded by puppies or just chilling with friends. :333

His birthday is on march 14!

As stated by Zeddyzi, if he were to have a blog, it be about science!

If he were going to date someone, it be someone he’s already close to! (He ain’t picky as long there’s a strong connection!)

If you were to take him on a date, he’ll just act awkwardly. (Cute :3)

He’s not very artistic.

He doesn’t like food. (especially spicy food!)

To express his love, he gets drunk…(um…what???)

He fidgets A LOT in his sleep.

If he were in a dangerous situation and he’s SUPER drunk, he just be standing there like a deer in headlights.

When drunk, he can’t fight for shit! (Save this confused man!)

He’s very grateful for his friends and is scared to lose them if he fucks up. (Same 😎.)

He’s not funny. Can’t even tell a fucking joke to save his own life!

He’s definitely the “don’t you pull that stupid shit” mom type as confirmed by Zeddyzi!

His blood type is B! (positive or negative, it’s not confirmed yet.)

If he were to be a Pokémon trainer, his team would be ghost/ice type!

He has a habit of being/staying clean, but often times fails miserably at it.

He doesn’t exercise. (maybe when he’s running tho!)

He trips a lot.

He loves doggos!

He hates anime.

His turn on/off is science/when people try talking to him. (Eh???)

He wears eyeliner! (According to Zi, he was born with it???)

OH!!!! HE LIKES EMO POETRY!!!! (As shown in Zi microwaving the Stone plush to DEAT-)

AND HE HAS BLACK 💅!!! (They couldn’t animate in the pilot cuz, ya know, it be difficult to animate.)

HIS WEAPON OF CHOICE WAS A CROWBAR, BUT THAN IT WAS REPLACED BY MOLOTOV’S.

That’s all I have for today! Hope you enjoyed reading these facts about our beloved emo boy🖤🖤🖤!!!

Have a stone and skipp drawing! (Art by @zeddyzi )

Edit: shout out to @k1tkatzzz for pointing out that interesting detail!

[mangosundae]

Wow I’ve had this account for like three years and I’m finally posting art. Yeah anyway I’m late to the party because I couldn’t come up with designs I liked but here are my Hazbin Hotel redesigns! Please note that these are just for fun; I’m not trying to be animator-friendly, I don’t think my designs are objectively better than Vivzie’s, and I don’t even think they’re that good in general. I’m just seeing how I personally would draw these characters.

Design notes under the cut! (so long as I did this right lmao)

Charlie: Tbh I don’t have much to say about her except that I wanted her to stand out the most, so I gave her the brightest colors. I also gave her more of an apple body shape because she’s the apple of her dad’s eye, lol.

Vaggie: Okay listen. I KNOW she’s not actually a moth demon, but the chest fluff was fun. Plus, in my version of the show, it takes longer for her to meet Charlie, so she puts together a demon disguise. I’m imagining a scene where her chest fluff is off and Charlie comes into the room like “???” and Vaggie’s like “Uhhhhhhh I shaved.” Plus I gave her her pastels from the pilot because man I loved her pastels.

Angel: Basically, I don’t know how to read. I thought jumping spiders have four eyes, but it’s actually four PAIRS of eyes, so. Just pretend the other ones are closed all the time. I also gave him more of his mobster aesthetic back bc I love his little fedora. I demand more time with Angel in a fedora.

Niffty: Yeah I KNOW she’s from the fifty’s but then I remembered Niffty’s supposed to be a bug, and beehives were a hairstyle in the 60s, so. There ya go. She can still have that housewife aesthetic though so it’s fine. Also she calls people “hun” and is generally a “busy bee.” Also she has a hidden stinger and might secretly be a wasp.

Alastor: First and foremost got rid of that FUCKASS BOB LMAO. I’m so sorry, I do love the bob but I can’t take him seriously. I also (hopefully) made him more obviously a POC, and gave him a more gray/brown color pallet because, y’know, the 30s. Also hooves.

Husk: He’s not here because I’d do the same design as everyone else. Husk has a beer belly change my mind.

[holylulusworld]

Caught Cold - Alternative Version (2)

Summary: Something goes wrong on your latest mission.

Ship/Main Pairing: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Read the alternative version here: Caught Cold.

Major Tags/Triggers/Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, mentions of sex pollen, fluff, awkwardness

Catch up here: Caught Cold - Alternative version

The flight back to the tower is excruciatingly awkward. No one looks your way, and no one dares to say a word. Usually, you’d celebrate a successful mission, or crack not-funny jokes.

It’s bad enough that Bucky lost control and mated you like a wild animal. Tony and Steve walking in on you was the worst-case scenario.

How can you forget that two of the men you admire the most watched you and their friend mate?

“So—” Steve clears his throat. He tries to find the right words to apologize for not stopping his friend from mating you. “I’m sorry about the problems with the earpieces, Agent. I didn’t hear you called for backup.”

You snort. A broken earpiece is the least of your problems. You just had unprotected sex with your supervisor, and he claimed you. All the while he was under the influence of a strange toxin.

“Sex pollen, a hell of a ride, huh?” Tony cackles watching you and Bucky stare on the ground. Heat creeps into your cheeks remembering the way you were writhing on Bucky’s cock. “So…are we having a Buckethead baby soon?”

“First and final warning, Stark,” Bucky lifts his head to glare at Tony. He’s ashamed of his doings and hates himself for being unable to fight the sex pollen. “She went through enough.”

“You mean she ended up impaled on your—” Tony ends up on the ground, his cheek swollen and bruised. “What the fuck!”

“I told you,” Bucky raises his fist again, a not-so-silent threat, “stop making things worse for Y/N. It’s all my fault. If you want to make fun of someone, look for a better target. Leave my omega alone!”

You whimper when Bucky roughly takes off his jacket to wrap it around your shoulders. He looks you all over, clumsily patting your hair before he sits next to you.

His scent and the warmth of his jacket calm you. You close your eyes and inhale his scent deeply. If only you didn’t drop the vial with the pollen. Everything has changed, and you don’t know what will happen now.

Can you still be an agent? Will Bucky force you into submission? What if he rejects you now? He claimed you while being high on sex pollen. There is nothing you can do if he decides to break the bond.

“Everything is going to be alright,” Bucky suddenly takes your hand to hold it in his hands. “We will talk about everything after we land.”

“Young love,” Tony snickers. His cheek is swollen, but he didn’t lose his sense of humor. “Huh, Capsicle. Why don’t you grab a dose of sex pollen yourself?”

“Tony, that’s not funny,” Steve grunts. “Why would I want to use this devious toxin to force myself on an omega?”

Bucky flinches at Steve’s words. He feels guilt gnawing at his soul. Today, he added another sin to his long list.

“He didn’t force himself on me,” you murmur and lean your head against Bucky’s shoulder. "The sex pollen would’ve killed him. We had sex to help him survive. Live with it.” You glare at Tony. He opens his mouth but snaps it shut.

“We are about to land in fifteen,” Bruce calls from the pilot seat. He didn’t dare to ask what happened in the abandoned building. The sharp man didn’t have to ask. “Please fasten your seatbelt.”

You laugh at Bruce's seriousness. This whole situation feels surreal.

Who would have thought you’d end up with Bucky’s claiming mark?

“Uh—this is the bedroom, and there is the bathroom,” Bucky explains while guiding you around his apartment at the tower. You don’t tell him that his place is similar to yours. “There’s a kitchenette and you already saw the living room.”

“Don’t get me wrong, but why are you showing me your place?” You wrinkle your forehead.

“You’re my omega, and we will move in together.” He nods to himself before placing his on the small of your back to lead you back into the living room. “If we decide to have pups, we can have a bigger home. A house maybe.”

“Whoa, slow down,” you twirl around to place your hands on his chest. For a moment you allow yourself to feel Bucky up. Hands running over his chest you look at Bucky, really look at him. “We—we…”

“We mated,” he ends your line. “You’re my omega, and I will be a good alpha and take care of you. I claimed you.”

“The drugs…the sex pollen,” you sigh when he places his index finger on your lips to silence you.

“It doesn’t matter, Y/N,” Bucky murmurs. “You know that you’re meant to be mine.” He dips his head to steal a kiss. He whispers your name and wraps his arms around you. “Steve will help me get your things. You can get comfortable while we bring everything here.”

“You’re working fast.”

He grins. “I do.” Bucky wiggles his eyebrows. “This way I tamed a cocky omega and made her mine.”

“Dream on,” you giggle, relieved Bucky doesn’t regret his claim.

“Oh, daydreaming is over,” he purrs low in his throat. “I got the real thing now…”

“I’m still unsure this was the right thing to do.” Bruce shakes his head at Steve. “What if he regrets his claim one day?”

“Bucky was pining over her for months. I had to force him to make a move before that new agent got the chance to ask her out,” Steve casually says while deleting the footage of your latest mission. “He wanted to claim her, and Y/N wanted Bucky to become her alpha. We did nothing wrong…”

“You only made her believe she dropped a vial with sex pollen when in truth you rubbed it into Bucky’s tactical suit.”

“The end justifies the means,” Steve says before walking away.

Tags in reblog.

[oatmealdoodles]

Apology tour spoilers

I kept putting this off because I pretty much agree with everybody else's takes on this, but I just want to get my opinions out anyways

So right off the bat we get THIS line from Blitzo

wow, gee, i wonder how that must feel like. Oh how i wonder

Anyways Stolas goes on directly to say that he doesn’t want to talk to Blitzo right know.

And you know what, thats vaid. All Stolas is saying in this entire interaction is “It’s too soon and i still mad at you, leave.” And i’m sorry but thats not an unreasonable request, especially after a fight that big. I was actually really impressed with how Stolas voiced his feelings thorough the entire confrontation: “I don't want to do words with you, so how about you respect that” “Seeing you right know is hard” “I don’t want to feel worse than I already do” “Im uncomfortable with how you’re speaking to me” This is textbook definition of healthy language.

And Blitzo for some reason just can’t respect that. Because he’s so dead set on getting things back to the status quo, what’s comfortable and familiar to him: this transactional relationship with no feelings, that he ignore Stolas’s requests blindly.

I saw someone claim that the show was trying to make it seem like Blitzo likes Stolas’s abuse, and I don’t think that’s what’s happening at all. Blitzo loves Stolas, that much is clear. But that doesn’t mean it’s healthy. And sometimes going back to an unhealthy relationship can feel better than without it, because that’s what’s familiar, what’s comfortable. Even if it’s not good for you. Especially for Blitz who already has so many abandonment insecurities. This actually happens a lot in real life and Im glad that HB decided to explore it.

But Stolas doesn’t get off the hook that easily

My dude, WHAT? Listen, Stolas, you are my favorite part of this episode. Nay, this show. But JESUS CHRIST WOULD EVEN AN OUNCE OF SELF AWARENESS KILL YOU???? “Impish little plaything,” “itty itty imp,” “you are so cute when you are serious,” “Blitzy,” none of that ringing a bell? SERIOUSLY??

Ok in all seriousness I think this line really emphasizes that Stolas is completely ignorant to the very prevalent power dynamic between them. He has no idea that all these actions and things he says to Blitzo hurt him. And that doesn’t makes it ok. Listen, Stolas has demonstrated that he’s willing to put in the work to improving himself. Just now I mentioned how his language changed to be more constructive and effective. The Stolas from the pilot and the Stolas in the last few episode are drastically different people. What Stolas needs is his own call-out episode, someone to give him a slap in the face and say “What you did is F’ed up” and for him to APOLOGIZE to Blitzo.

Also my man ate up this entire exchange

I have a bit less to say about the Striker stuff, I honestly don't think t was too relavent to the conversation, it’s just more well-written angst with fantastic animation and expressions. And seeing Blitzo slowly realize he screwed up was great too.

Unrelated but this probably to the biggest laugh out of me this episode

Brandon Rogers and Bryce Pinkham continue to be the best voice acting pair I’ve seen in a long time

and guys we FINALLY got Blitzo airing out his feelings to Stolas, completely dumping everything on the table. And then he just backpedals so violently because he’s scared of letting people see his true self, in fear they might hurt him. Also Stolas’s face be like “that escalated quickly…”

To be honest i could go on and on about all the little charachter detains and mannerisms, the animation, and how BEAUTIFUL the colors are. I want to talk about the section at the party, but this is already long enough. I might make a part two if i find the time, but those were just my thoughts

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

Mercs proposing hc?? So basic but Im literally one corny mf

The TF2 Mercs proposing to their partners

WARNING: Mild gore gifts because this is the Mercs we’re talking about here.

—————————————————————————

Scout:

- Biggest panic attack of his fucking life. Has no idea how to function like a normal human being anymore. It was that feeling of being in love with somebody all over again and needing to tell them. What’s worse about this though is that marriage is a huge commitment. One that many aren’t ready for yet. What if you reject him and he messes this relationship up?

- Goes to Spy for comfort. In all honesty he’s just a very damaged little boy on the inside and scared that he is incapable of receiving unconditional love. The other Mercs catch him behind the base crying into Spy’s shoulder on the curb while Spy holds him. He’s telling Spy how much he loves you; and how terrified he is that you cannot return that same vow. Spy knows the feeling. “Shh, mon lapin.” Boy howdy Spy’s certainly grateful that Scout’s mom didn’t teach him a word of french.

- Spy has to shove Scout into your room to actually finally get him to do it. “Your idiot boyfriend has a few words for you, and apparently I have to be present or i’m certain he’ll break down crying again.” He says to you. While poor Scout curls up into a ball on the floor.

————————————————————————-

Soldier:

- First of all, why him? Second of all, this is the type of guy to go all out and spend half the money he earned in mercenary work to get one of those “will you marry me Y/N?” banners hooked up to a plane. Complete with the pilot being ejected and the plane crashing nose first into a rock formation. Apparently that was 100% intentional because a bunch of confetti came out of the explosion. You don’t know if you should be horrified at the audacity, or head over heels.

- Brings you an entire necklace of ears. But that’s not all! For limited time only you can get one of soldiers’ severed heads that was purposely boiled and skull cut into the shape of a helmet! Great, right? “Wow, what type of animal is this?” You ask. “A DOG. PACKAGED WITH PURE, NO ARTIFICIAL FLAVOR, PASTEURIZED AMERICAN GLORY!” well that’s not reassuring. “OOOHH SAAAAY CAAAAN YOU SEEE—“ Soldier immediately gets hit over the head by Heavy and knocked unconscious.

- After the initial silliness dies down you see adoration as you tend to his awful head wound. Maybe Heavy knocked the stupidity out of him? No. He’s still insane. Soldier grabs your wrist as you apply alcohol to his wound and squeezes your hand. “Somebody like me doesn’t deserve somebody like you.” He says. “Bullshit, Soldier.” You say, leaning in for a kiss.

—————————————————————————

Demoman:

- He can only achieve this when drunk off his mind. Not to mention it arrives in the most unromantic way possible. But it doesn’t make you love him any less. He holds you close to him after a New Years party at the base and pats your back. “Jus’ so you know, you’d look mighty fine with a ring on your finger.” He flirts, getting incredibly physically affectionate. He makes sure never to cross your boundaries.

- “Me mum would kill me but fuck all. y’know? Old wench’s days are numbered anywae. We could live ina nice cottage by the sea.. If ya want wee lil’ bastards I’ll actually take care of em. I’d have to stop me drinkin tho.” He says, pecking your neck. His remaining eye is pleading with you to say yes. “Pleaaase?”

- Has no recollection of these events in the morning so imagine his dumbfounded expression when one of the Mercs asks about his new fiancé. Cue the embarrassment mixed with pride and excitement.

—————————————————————————

Engineer:

- Will 100% go to your window in the dead of night and sing a song for you on his guitar. Particularly I imagine this would be the contender. You have no idea this is even a marriage proposal. You just think he’s being incredibly sappy. Imagine the surprise while mid song he pulls out a small box and throws it up and down recklessly like a baseball. You’re slowly beginning to catch on as he opens it with his free fingers after finishing the song.

- Complete overconfident show off. He pep-talked himself before all this and rehearsed his performance repeatedly. By using the wrangler and effortlessly throwing the box up in the air and propelling it forward with a single bullet, the sentry successfully aided in getting the box up to you. You don’t even know how you managed to catch it, to be honest.

- Tips his hardhat to you. “Whadda say? Marry me?” He can barely contain his smile. Both excited and somewhat relieved he pulled that off.

—————————————————————————

Heavy:

- “Heavy made you dead person crown..” He walks into your room one day and puts it on your head. It’s a bunch of severed ears meant to resemble a flower crown. “Hey, thanks big guy.” You’re grateful for the gift, being a crazed Merc yourself is it really any surprise? You give him a huge kiss on the cheek. Heavy looks thrilled that you accepted his gift. Which is very much unlike him. Usually he’s reserved. Maybe he’s just having a good day?

- Well.. you eventually find out why. That was apparently his way of proposing to you. Soldier nudges you the next morning and teases you for being engaged to Heavy. You’re horrified to say the least. You had no idea this meant marriage. Not that you wouldn’t marry him. But what about his gun Sasha? Wouldn’t she feel jealous? You’ve been with Heavy so long you keep referring to that damn thing as a person.

- Immediately upon seeing you; goes up to you and gives you a list of stuff he wants at this wedding. There’s even a blank page for you to write your own needs. He seems oddly motivated to plan this out months before it actually happens. There is countless mentions of Russian authors he wants to attend the wedding. As if they’d ever consider going to a stranger’s wedding. “If they won’t come then Heavy will crush them..” He says. Same goes for your guests.

—————————————————————————

Pyro:

- Wow.. Kind of the most normal out of all of them. For the most part. If TF2 took place in modern day they’d propose with a ringpop but all they have is a bag of candy and an actual ring (That they may or may not have stolen from someone in Tuefort.)

- They get on their knees and offer the ring to you in an extremely professional manner. It’s quite surreal to see Pyro pull off something so domestic and normal when he’s always destroying stuff with fire. In fact this is a little too normal.. This is Team Fortress we’re talking about here. Shouldn’t something be wacky happening right about now? It’s like the perfect opening for slapstick. Through your cries of love and laughter you begin to feel anxious at the back of your head.

- Yup.. There it is. Pyro tells you that Scout offered to be the ‘Ring bear’ for the wedding. There’s Scout dressed up in a cutesy teddy bear costume. You’re certain that’s not how it works. “Just for the record, if you tell anybody about this, I’ll fuckin’ saw off both your knees boston sandwich style. Capeesh?” He says. You have no idea what that means so you quickly agree.

————————————————————————-

Sniper:

- Afraid he’s going to mess it up, much like Scout. Gets incredibly physically ill as a result from stress and isolates himself in his camper van. You’re convinced he wants to tell you something but you have no idea what it is. One day on the frontlines an arrow narrowly misses your face and embeds itself into the wall next to you. You were about to turn around and bombard Sniper until you saw the note attached to it. “Pardon, Will you marry me? -Sniper.” With a very worried sad face drawn next to the note. He even bothered to draw his hat on it.

- Disbelief clouds your face at first. Sniper? Marry another Merc? You’re in shock. This isn’t something you’d ever suspect from a guy like him. But your initial thought makes way for an uncontrollable smile.

- He literally will not approach you first after this. You have to knock on his camper van because god knows he won’t be even able to face his team for months. As you jump into his arms and kiss him he immediately pulls you inside to love on you in private.

———————————————————————-

Medic:

- WOULD RATHER SHOOT HIMSELF

- Just kidding. But he wishes he were dead right now. How could he do something so… Un-mad-sciencey? Marriage is just a concept brought upon by money hungry people. It only exists within the mind… Yet, that’s how he feels. An eternal vow to you is something he wishes to do. He’s already planned to make you a god alongside him once the time came so you could be his beloved consort forever. It reminded him of the greek story of soulmates.

- Gets a little fruitier than usual. The most feminine moan you ever heard left this man’s body as you brushed against him while trying to help him grab a syringe he dropped. This man gets unusually hornier and that’s how you know something’s up.. “Looking up my skirt, I see!” He says, as you glance up his long lab coat. There isn’t anything there but his pants so you roll your eyes. “Ah yes.. “ You respond. You decide he’s just clingy and horny as usual and carry about your assistance. You’re not in the mood for that. He never even bottoms so he’s feigning it anyway.

- “Err—Uh— Ho! Wouldn’t it be just shameful if I knew what was going on inside your head?” He asks. “Alright, i’ll bite. What are you saying, Doc?” You sigh. He fixes his glasses back up on his face thoughtfully. “One body, one mind. That would be quite intriguing don’t you think? If we were to.. Become one.” He placed an odd amount of emphasis on that, as if the thought was simply music to his ears. Lord he’s creepy. Medic grabs you and holds you close to him. “Think of the possibilities. We’d never be lonely again. I could stitch our bodies together and we could feel each other’s essence. Forever.”

- “Medic, you good?” You ask. Although his words were strangely flattering nonetheless in their own way. You smile at him. He seems to be lost in the idea. Fantasies of being with you for eternity flood his head. Particularly ones where you’re both a weird hybrid god. Weirdest marriage proposal world record goes to Medic.

————————————��————————————-

Spy:

- No, no no no no no. He can’t do this again. Marriage never worked out for him. After losing Scout’s mom and many partners that followed, he couldn’t bare hurting somebody like that again. His job always got in the way of what he truly desired but he had to live with it. This life chose him after all. His hand was forced into this position. Seeing your bright smile for the rest of his days was all he ever wanted. His urges to get up and say something to you were too strong.

- Has to metaphorically slap himself in the face and remind himself to act like a fucking adult. He wasn’t a little rambunctious teenager in Paris anymore. Yet he felt like one whenever he saw you. Such boyish feelings for an old put together gentleman like him. Spy decided to trust you and himself. But if something went wrong he wouldn’t hesitate to jump off a fucking cliff. Spy would stare at his reflection in the bathroom mirror for hours and contemplate his decision before making it.

- He proposes to you under a starry moonlit night. Not even bothering to kneel down, he slides the box across the balcony to you. “Well?” he asks, taking a long drag of his cigarette. His eyes fixated on the horizon. “Do I have to say it?” He asks. “Yes..” You tell him. Your eyes gleaming with joy. You never felt happier in your entire life. “Fine.. Will you marry m—“ He couldn’t even finish before you jump on him, ultimately knocking you both down.

[apocalyp-tech-a]

Remember in Season 1, Episode 1 Aftermath, Tech says "I am merely stating a theoretical hypothesis based on factual data?" Well, that's what I did, I made a "logical conclusion." From Lama Su coming back when we thought he was dead to the infamous "domicile," it was all factual evidence that was meant to push us in a direction of hoping that Tech would return and that CX-2 could be the way he does it. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. There's an underlying reason that I love Tech not based on just his handsome looks. I don't claim to have an exceptional mind like him and I don't intend to convince anyone that CX-2 was Tech, but I do want to explain how it could be construed through the way that character was presented as well as the possibility of Tech's return in general, that he could have been and none of us were wrong or "losers" to think so.

45 70 Reasons and more well on the way, lol...

General reasons:

*Tech is never seen actually dying.

*Hemlock being untrustworthy source of death certificate.

*The return of many thought to be dead characters in past Star Wars from Darth Maul who was sliced in half to Lama Su - the door closed on him and we thought he was getting shot by troopers only to show up alive later and this happened in The Bad Batch itself.

*CX-2 is shown walking toward the 'light' after dropping off Omega, symbolically toward a future redemption. @astrovoidy

*Height change on starwars.com

*The word 'dead' danced around on official sites and by BB employees

*the similarities to Winter soldier @on-a-quest

*the cryptic tweets that showcased reborn characters like Gandalf

*The official poster of CX-2 shows him in 'good' light. @eriexplosion AND CX-2 is shown looking up and to the side the way the original CF99 members are positioned and facing in their poster as if CX-2 is also a CF99 member

*other people in professional settings like New Rock Stars on youtube thought the same exact thing as well as casual viewers

*the large focus on CX-2, over multiple episodes

*misleading title of last episode "The Cavalry Has Arrived"

*Tech being smart enough to find a solution

*If Season 2 could be compared to Empire Strikes Back, Tech was taken from us the way Han Solo was, but Han Solo was returned so surely Tech would be as well

*no one expected a main ensemble character permadeath

*the fight with Crosshair music had hints of "Plan 99" in it

*Tech’s whole big conversation with Romar was about culture and memory, and he helped Romar restoring a data repository. Between the implication that Tech would have lost his memories and Phee saying, “Tech’s brain was the databank, not mine,” you could easily see that as foreshadowing for Tech getting his memories back. @heyclickadee

*All the little one line reminders and goggles shots up through episode twelve only serve to make the audience want Tech back. They aren’t closure, they’re reminders of his absence. [Tech never being quite mourned.] @heyclickadee

*The goggles are lit, or look like they’re lit, in every scene they’re in except the last one, which sure makes all those earlier shots deliberate. @heyclickadee *CX-2 could have killed all of them at different moments, but chose not to (shooting pilot instead of Hunter for example)

Physical and character similarities:

*the shrimp posture

*the kick in the fight similar to droid kick in S1E1

*the similar hand to hand combat style

*the shooting accuracy- ipsium cave/ plan 99

*the elegant deliberate movement especially of hands and fingers

*the animated head and body when speaking

*the helmet – even has his hairline @jorolle

*the viewfinder similar to Tech's and utilized just as often

*the pouches(!!!)

*the limberness and agility

*the confident capability

*the crouching/getting on one knee - Tech is an infamous croucher!

*the deviant nature – ignoring orders

*the technology know how

*the flying – some say the turn on Teth was a Tech Turn

*the extraness of tool/weapon twirl

*armpad like Tech's datapad @wolveria

*CX-2's ship has similarities to the Marauder @wolveria

*Tech CC-9902 / CX-2 - both end in 2 @wolveria

*We are reminded this season that Tech was especially good at decryption. What do we see CX-2 doing on Phee’s ship? Yeah. @heyclickadee

*Season two went out of its way to establish that Tech has a high pain tolerance, is a good close range fighter (he won a life-or-death fight with a guy when he had that broken femur), quick processing speed, and is an excellent shot. All skills we see CX-2 exhibit. @heyclickadee

The 'British' accent, speech inflection, pronunciation. and vocabulary (this alone is enough to convince anyone...):

'You better get back HERE." - "I know the girl is HERE."

"The fifth IS Omega." - "The girl IS alive."

"Who are you?" - "Who are you?"

"Naveecomputah." - "Neveecomputah."

"DOMICILE." - "DOMICLE."

Cinematic framing similarities:

*the limping

*the coming out of the water @lilacjunimo

*hooking the rappel hook rappelling down was like dangling off the rail car

*the boulder moving

*helmet viewpoint from CX-2 in finale, only BB members ever had that

Conjectural situations of suspicion:

*the beef with Crosshair

*the constant surviving

*the pausing when choking Crosshair

*the pausing to look at Phee

*The implications that Crosshair seems to know something about CX-2 (he wants to get out of dodge when he knows CX-2 is coming), and the intense lingering guilt Crosshair feels—and which is never dealt with! It’s still there through the finale—implying he knows or suspects it’s Tech. @heyclickadee

*“Whatever they did to you, whatever you’ve done, you’re still one of us,” offered by Rex towards the CXs @heyclickadee

*Crosshair’s character arc this season being partly about realizing that anyone can change and that no one is really beyond saving, which would have continued going somewhere if he thought CX-2 was Tech and considered him beyond saving, but then changed his mind and realized he needed to try. Notice that he does not engage CX-2 in 11 like he did in 7, and that this comes after his revelation about giving people a chance in 9. @heyclickadee

*CX-2 is even more Tech like in 11 than he was in 6 and 7. This implies that he could be starting to wake up, and that almost killing Crosshair triggered that. He doesn’t kill anyone except one of his own guys on Pabu (or Phee) even though it would make his job much easier. He even has Hunter and Wrecker in his sights and moves his aim to not shoot them directly. @heyclickadee

*Crosshair has no way to know that the CX’d clones come out different and that their identities are erased unless it happened to someone we know. In fact, there’s not reason for the CX plot to exist unless that horrific thing happens to someone we know. @heyclickadee

*The first episode of the show starts out with Hunter covering for someone who supposedly died in a fall. In fact, there are direct parallels in the lines: “Where’s the Jedi?” “I stunned him when he jumped. He didn’t make it.” vs “Where’s Tech?” “Omega…Tech didn’t make it.” I’m not saying Hunter was covering for Tech; I am saying that is the only place in the script where we see those phrases matched up. @heyclickadee

*Tech being CX-2 would have fit in perfectly with each member of the batch experiencing a traumatic loss (and regaining) of agency that correlated directly to who and how they are as people. @heyclickadee

Foreshadowing lines:

*More machine than man, percentage wise at least.

*Better late than dead.

*See you around, Brown Eyes.

*Tech's not gone.

*The operative's gone rogue.

*Romar saying he's a survivor and Tech's look at him.

*Don't go running off with any pirates or smugglers. @heyclickadee

Abandoned storyline reasons:

*The romance with Phee, surely it wouldn't be abandoned!? 🙄😡

*CX-2's death being anticlimactic

*The finale seeming rushed and incomplete

*Actors saying there were script changes

*CX-2's accent in the finale was not only not like Tech's as it was in previous episodes, it wasn't even a clone accent (wtf was that) signaling a script change

@wolveria made a great analysis here with her Tech-Genda !

@heyclickadee gave a great analysis here and also great evidence, more in comments!

@vivaislenska has a list as well with some of these points!

@eriexplosion has a great analysis here!

Having said that, here are some reasons it may not have been him:

*Too many characters coming back from the dead.

*The way he says 'clones' in Infiltration was more reg accent.

*Tech's line in the cave to Omega which "was a big one to me” in retrospect: "I am aware that you miss him, but we have to adapt and move on."

As for the intentions of the writers to either have been forced to change the script, but can't admit it due to NDAs or if they truly meant for CX-2 to be Crosshair's foil which to me was unclear, especially with all of the evidence above, I don't know. At least they could have made CX-2 talk and move like a reg. Making him talk and walk like Tech was kind of cruel on top of a cruel we already experienced in Plan 99. I am not personally attacking the writers, I still love Season 1 and 2 and most of Season 3, but I wish I knew what happened behind the scenes with this and I know I'm not the only one. I think this is the last time I'll personally address Season 3 or the finale unless to support other commentators/creators and for my own fix-it and art and writing. And I look forward to seeing everyone else's works as well and hope no one gives up this beautiful Batch or fandom as I almost did. Canon seems done with him, he belongs to us now. 💜

And if anyone has anything I missed (I'm sure I'll think of more myself), feel free to comment or reblog with that addition or a link to your own post and/or I can edit the OP to include it and tag you. Also, don't feel like you can't make your own post about this subject! But I do hope this maybe helped anyone still dealing with the 'aftermath' like me, to know you're not alone, and you did not read too much into it.

(In retrospect, I can't believe they killed him though, lol. What the kriff were they thinking!?! #too handsome to die #too awesome to die)