#I seem to have lost my self in my own ramblings

[dreaming-hibi]

In my quest to better understand the dying will flames’ system in KHR, I once again went into a deep dive of both the manga and the anime (as I have few other sources to consult). I immediately got derailed by the rings. 

I began my search at the very beginning of the future arc, considering that’s where most of the explanation on the dying will flames is, and found some interesting facts about the rings before I found anything about the flames. The interesting facts opened a can of worms I had purposefully decided to overlook many times, but now it was open so dig in I did!

In chapter 139, Lal explains the rules of fighting in the future. Fights in the future are fought with rings and boxes, completely changing the whole fight aspect of KHR going from there. Anyway, 

「リングはマフィアの黎明期に暗黒時代を生きぬくために」

“At the beginning of the mafia, the rings were (used) to survive in its dark age.” = when the mafia started, the purpose of the rings was for survival (perhaps through legitimization of the power? as rings are passed from one generation to the other, especially from boss to boss)

「先人達が闇の力との契約を交わしたことの象徴だと思われてきた・・・」

“It has been considered to be a symbol of a pact made between our ancestors and the forces of darkness” = the rings were so weird and mysterious that everyone thought they were forged from a satanic ritual

「だが沈黙の掟に守られてきたマフィアのリングには 人知を超えた力が宿っていたんだ」

“However the mafia rings, which were protected by the vow of silence (omertà), held a power far beyond human comprehension” = only the mafia rings protected by the omertà hold powers, and these powers are beyond human understanding

Lal points out that Tsuna and Gokudera must have seen the rings light up with flames at least once. And while she’s interrupted when she tries to explain that the rings are capable of more than just that, it’s obvious that she was hinting at the rings’ ability to open boxes. Lal’s explanation makes it very clear that only MAFIA RINGS are capable of… er, lighting up. So what do we understand from this? 

Mafia rings are made with a special conductive material, which automatically transforms wave energy into visible dying will flames. This material is not found in common rings, something which simultaneously answers a lot of questions and rises just as many. 

You can’t accidentally light up a wedding ring or a candy toy ring just because it’s a ring and you know how to use dying will flames

Where the hell is everyone finding all these rings? 

 If they’re not finding them and actually making them (implied by Gokudera’s Skull Rings used for his Sistema C.A.I), how come everyone seems to know the recipe for making these rings but still consider them “Oh so mysterious”? 

Who the fuck crafted all these rings? And still is! (cause the Varia gets some custom-made rings)

Further down the line, we also get a ranking system for the rings, with E-rank being a low grade ring and an A-rank being the highest grade of ring, and the Tri-ni-sette being OVER RANK-A (basically SS). Considering the Tri-ni-sette was made from the seven stones supporting the Earth, it’s obvious how they would be of superior quality — which to me honestly just confirms that the mafia rings as a whole are made with a special material, not on par with the seven stones but somehow similar material.

So, the difference in quality of rings is probably due to: 

High quality material (A-rank) vs low quality material (E-rank) (it’s the same principle as choosing which material to use for a normal ring, some are more durable while others tarnish easily so think of it like that)

.

.

.

Where was I going with this?

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

There has been requests about getting a full body colour for Kook!Ford, so here he is, in all his beige, white, and brown minimalist glory <3 (THERE’S A REASON WHY HE HAS SUCH A BORING PALETTE I PROMISE)

Stupid colour rambles that are WAYY too in depth and probably mostly far fetched but this is my AU and I get to pick how much over-analysis goes into the characters’ colour schemes, fuck you:

Ford:

Characterised by pale, almost pastel-ish colours to emulate a sort of sick, unhealthy look.

The paler colours add to the illusion of Ford lacking presence, almost disappearing into the background, to convey how his existence often ignored or dismissed by most of the townsfolk.

Without any visually striking or contrasting colours in his palette itself, his own features blend into one another, blurring the details and diminishing any identifiable traits that would have typically identified him as Ford, or even a person (<- if that mindfuck of a sentence make any sense)

Hints of yellow to show remnants Bill's past influence on him. Because I’m dramatic like that.

Fiddleford:

Deep, rich forest greens with golden accents (influences of Bill appearing in his outfit) (I need to hammer Fidds out a lil’ more ngl)

Stanley:

Deep, rich blues and purples (opposite spectrum of yellow, aka. Bill's colour, which means = safety to Ford)

The inside lining of his jacket is vivid red, to reference his original colours palette and as a representation of his past self being hidden underneath the layers of his predominantly blue exterior, colours representative of his new identity (also red = warm and blue = cold)

His colours palette will eventually open up into something warmer on the outside, veering into purple.

Extra notes on his character: Stan (in this AU) is colder and quieter than his canon counterpart. After years of being in the mafia business, and years of running it as well, he has long since learned to mask his facial expressions and master the poker face (*cough cough* resting bitch face *cough cough*). But, his intimidating and serious air does not serve him any favours when it comes to literally anything other than his “work”, his inexperience when it comes to emotions all the more apparent with the twins. He has trouble expressing his feelings outwardly, and despises this part of himself, because it reminds him of his own father. He feels as though he is failing the twins by being too cold and distant, and tries his best to open up more.

Mabel:

Maintains her original colours palette with pink, but has more hints of red in her outfit, similar to Stan’s, particularly around her sleeves (allusion to “wearing your heart on your sleeves.” Yes, I know that it’s tacky)

The red shows she is more inclined to trust Stan, as she is willing to see past Stanley’s exterior facade of cold aloofness to see his “true” colours (good HEAVENS that is disgustingly cheesy to say but idk how else to really word this)

Extra notes on her character: Mabel trusts Stan fully. Perhaps a little too much. She I dolises Stan to an almost unhealthy degree, and is constantly plagued with the underlying fear of somehow losing Stan’s ��interest”, as their mother seemed to have lost interest in her and Dipper. Deeply fears being abandoned again, and believes she “owes” Stan for having adopted them. She believes it is her fault that neither of their parents wanted the twins during the divorce.

Dipper:

Maintains original colour palette with blues, but pretty solidly lacks red in his outfit. He serves as the opposite spectrum of Mabel, instead being unwilling to fully trust Stan and takes him at face value.

Extra notes on his character: Dipper does not trust Stan, and is far more hyperaware of what kind of “business” their “uncle” runs. He is mostly worried about Mabel’s slight obsession with pleasing him, and fears that if they don’t behave, Stan might use his dangerous power and influence against them. He is convinced that Stan had ulterior motives to adopting them, cannot fathom what he, a seeming stranger with all the power in the world, could possibly hope to gain in adopting two abandoned children. Even more so, when even their parents didn’t seem to want them.

[der7py]

Yandere Fashion Designer x reader

While visiting your favorite fashion designer, something seemed off. He seemed off. More panicky, more scrambled than usual. Why? Where was that cool and calm collected Antonio? Well, he was right behind you.

Warnings: People pleasing, forced isolation, panicked motions, kidnapping, deranged thoughts, extreme paranoia, guilty conscious, extreme self-neglect, locked doors, locked windows, paranoia, very minor violence, chloroform wipes, slight guilt-tripping, paranoid thoughts

You knocked on his door, the rain downpouring on you and your raincoat. That's all the weather ever was nowadays. Just rain and more rain. Which meant that little mister fashion designer was cooped up in his office all day. "Antonio! If you don't open the door, I'm gonna break in through your window!" You yelled, knocking on his door again as you tapped your foot. Finally, you heard some shuffling around. Took him long enough! As the door opened, you were met with a very disheveled Antonio. His blonde hair was a complete mess, a pencil stuck in it. Or maybe it was originally behind his ear. His eyes were wide yet the bags under them were heavy. His shirt was unbuttoned, and a tape measure hung around his neck with his sleeves rolled up.

"Y/n! I uh... I didn't expect you to come over." He said nervously, attempting to fix his messy hair, which just made it worse. You looked him over, cringing at his state of mind and appearance. You reached a hand up, pulling out a cut piece of silk out of his hair. "Yeah... completely unrelated question... how much sleep have you been getting? And have you seen what grass looks like?" You jokingly asked, which received a glare from your friend. "Haha. Very funny. Now, did you come here because you missed me, or did you come here to belittle me?" He questioned, leaning against the door with his arm. That brought a smile to your face. At least he hadn't completely lost it.

You jokingly punched his arm, letting yourself in as you took your raincoat off. "There's that sass! Was starting to think you had completely lost it in here." Antonio rolled his eyes, shutting the door and locking it as he moved past you towards the kitchen. "Don't mind the mess. I've been working on a new spring collection, so I haven't had time to properly clean." He said, moving towards his kettle to make some tea. You noticed the messy state of his usually clean house. Papers scattered across the floor, fabric loosely thrown around, and some books collecting dust. His window blinds were shut, and his door had gotten a new lock now that you looked at it. It looked like it had several new locks now.

"Hey, uh... buddy?" You started, taking a seat at the kitchen counter. The state of his kitchen wasn't much better either. You knew he wasn't a hoarder. And it didn't look like that either. It looked like somebody's mental state. "What's uh... what's with the new locks on the door? Worried somebody's gonna come and snatch your stuff?" You somewhat jokingly said, which immediately caused him to slam down the kettle and turn around. "Snatch who? Snatch what? I'm not paranoid. You're the paranoid one! I'm completely sane. Stop accusing me of things you have no evidence of." He rambled, a crazed look in his eyes before he took in a deep breath. "Sorry. I've been on edge lately. Guess being cooped up in my office hasn't been the best, huh?" He laughed, turning back around to finish making tea.

Well, that was weird. He never had outbursts like that. Was his mental state okay? You awkwardly laughed it off with him, but your mind was preoccupied. Eventually, he poured you both some tea, sitting down himself. "I guess nerves haven't done well for me. I keep thinking this new collection will flop." He said, trying to excuse his sudden outburst. You frowned, setting a hand on his as he sipped his tea. "Yeah, I get that. But don't dress so much, okay?" You said, giving him a smile before sipping your own tea. He smiled back, taking in a deep breath before standing up. "Would you like to see the collection?" He asked, which earned a nod from you. You stood up, following him out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his office. As he opened the door, you were met with multiple fashion dummies, beautiful clothes hanging on them.

"With all the rain, I thought I'd make my spring collection rain themed." He said casually, looking at the designs he made. You slowly touched them, feeling the soft fabric. You could tell he put a lot of work into what he made and that he wasn't like most fast fashion companies who just threw something cheap out and then moved on. There was actual skill in these outfits. You always knew he was talented. He always had been talented. But this, actually feeling and seeing his work up close, really showed you, his skill. "This is fantastic." You mumbled, looking back at him with awe. You kept forgetting that he could just make things like this out of thin air. "Antonio this dress with the glitter is amazing! And it doesn't even feel grimy and gross! How did you even manage this-" You started, but as you turned around; he was gone.

"Antonio? Buddy? Where'd you go?" You asked, peeking your head out the doorway as you looked around the corner. Where did he go? You decided to wait a little longer, maybe he had to use the bathroom, or take an important phone call from his boss! But he always told you if he was going somewhere, even if he was going to go open a window because the house was stuffy. After about 15 minutes of waiting, you were getting worried. You needed to go find him. You left the room, venturing down the hallway to try to and find your beloved fashion designer. But something looked different. The windows. They were locked.

You walked over to the window, attempting to open the big window where his book corner/think station was. But it wouldn't open. "Antonio? What's wrong with your windows?" You called out, but no answer came. No calm and warming voice to soothe your fears. You walked downstairs, and the same thing happened. The windows were locked. And that mega lock door? Sealed nice and tight. Fuck it. You needed to leave. Maybe this was just a new way of saying his social battery was gone and he needed some space. "Antonio I'm gonna go home now. I'll see you tomorrow?" As you turned around to try and pry the locked door open, a cloth was suddenly shoved against your nose and mouth, and two strong arms wrapped around you.

"No. No, you can't leave." A familiar voice said, and you knew it was Antonio. "I have done everything to make you want to be with me. What am I doing wrong?" He asked, his voice shaky as he started to laugh. "Is this house not quiet enough? Do I scare you? Is my job too demanding? I promise I'll make you a whole collection. I'll make all your clothes for you! Would that be enough!?" You were starting to lose unconscious, and it was too late to fight him now. How had you not seen the signs? The locked doors, the people pleasing over the past few weeks, the begging for you to stay longer. You just chalked it up to him being lonely and scared. But you should've know.

Your eyes slowly closed, and your body went limp in his arms. You didn't know where you would end up after you woke up. But something in your gut told you, you wouldn't be leaving any time soon.

"I'll keep you safe. I promise. I'll make you so happy, so loved, so cherished, you'll never want to leave. I'm sorry it had to come to this. But I love you too much. Forgive me."

[thefoxandthepenguine]

Lost star (Pt. 1)

Wanda Maximoff x Guitarist!Fem!Reader

Summary: AU. You never had the courage or opportunity to tell Wanda you were the masked YouTuber she admired since high school when you met her in college. What will happen when you meet her again years later, as the teacher of her twins?

Warnings: Slow burn, fluff (for now?), angst

Word count: 2.4k

a/n: Well, well, well- guess who's back? I know I've been gone for so so long and most of you probably already forgot me :'( But I've had this idea for a very long time and couldn't resist the temptation and urge to put it down in words. I hope y'all enjoy this story and please tell me what you think about this by commenting, reblogging or leaving me an ask. Good reading :)

(GIF found online. I don’t own this gif.)

Part 1

“Romanoff! You left your panties in my room. Again!”

With a playful sigh, you swung open the door and tossed the red lace panties toward the redhead, who turned at the sound of your voice. The panties landed on her face, and you huffed with mock irritation.

“And don’t you ever dare to steal my under-”

Suddenly, you faltered, swallowing your words as the person in front of you pulled the panties away, revealing herself to you.

Holy shit.

You cursed yourself for acting so impulsively. 

This person, whoever she was, was most definitely not Natasha Romanoff.

“I-” the girl shifted her gaze between the panties pinched in her fingers and you, her brows furrowed in confusion as she spoke. “Uh- wrong person?”

What on earth were you thinking Y/N? Throwing panties on a stranger’s face?

“Oh gosh,” you gasped, too shocked to stop yourself from rambling. “I’m so sorry- I shouldn’t have- I didn’t know- I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to. I- I thought you were Nat 'cause she told me she’d be in her room and her roommate wouldn’t be around. I really am so-”

Much to your surprise, the girl giggled softly before dropping Natasha’s panties into her laundry basket. “Relax. No need to keep apologizing,” she said, seeming to be amused by your flustered state. “By the way, I’m Wanda. Natasha’s roommate.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, calming down enough to take in the person standing across from you. That’s when you breath hitched—

She was stunning. 

You were captivated by the vivid shade of emerald in her eyes, so vibrant and expressive under the sunlight streaming through the window. Her hair, not as light as Natasha’s now that you took a closer look, cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves, perfectly framing her face.

“And you are?”

Wanda’s voice brought you back, and you noticed her head tilted slightly, curiosity in her eyes.

Oh no.

You curse yourself again under your breath. 

“Y/N. I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I’m an old friend of Natasha.”

“Did you come here to find Nat?” Wanda asked, sitting on her bed. You hesitated for a brief second where you should sit, and finally decided to settle on the edge of Natasha’s bed, sitting across the room from Wanda.

You were not sure if she wanted you to sit near her after what just happened.

“Yeah…we’re planning to have dinner together,” you nodded, offering a small smile.

“Something’s up with their project, so Nat went to the library with her group mates,” Wanda explained, crossing her legs as she shifted to find a more comfortable position on her bed. “But I think she’ll be back soon.”

“Oh,” you said as you rose from the bed and gestured towards the door. “I can wait for her out-”

“It's okay! You can stay here,” Wanda interjected quickly, waving her hand reassuringly.

“You sure?” you asked, pausing with one foot still on the floor, a hesitant expression on your face.

“Mm-hmm.” 

You nodded, smiled appreciatively, and returned to your spot on the bed.

Silence soon settled in. Occasionally, you and Wanda would meet each other's gaze in the air, but only to look away the next moment. This awkward tension lingered for a minute or two until you began to fidget with the sheets self-consciously, feeling the discomfort of the silence. You scanned the room desperately for something, anything, to spark a conversation, hoping to ease the tension between you two.

Then, something leaning against the wall caught your eye.

“You play guitar?” you asked, nodding towards the instrument in the corner of Wanda's side of the room.

“Oh, that!” Wanda followed your gaze and waved her hand dismissively. “I wish I knew how to play. I’m just learning.”

“That’s cool!” you said, genuinely intrigued now. “Any songs you’re working on?”

“Yeah, ‘How deep is your love’!” Wanda exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she mentioned the song.

“Great choice! It’s a classic,” you replied with a grin, feeling an unexpected surge of happiness at discovering your shared love for the same song. 

“Argh but I’m terrible at it,” Wanda huffed in frustration, her nose scrunching slightly as she likely recalled her practice sessions. “I can never get the barre chord right.”

“Do you have a teacher, or are you learning online?” you asked, leaning forward unconsciously as the conversation carried on.

“Oh, I’m learning online. Come here, let me show you!” She patted the space next to her on the bed, inviting you to sit beside her. As you made your way across the room, Wanda shifted onto her knees and crawled across the bed to reach for her laptop on the nightstand.

Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she opened a webpage and positioned the screen between the two of you. "I’ve been following this tutorial guide by a YouTuber. Have you ever watched her videos? You have to check her out if you haven’t. She’s such an amazing guitarist!"

You almost choked in surprise the moment you recognized your own video playing. It showed a person playing the guitar and singing "How Deep Is Your Love," with tabs and chords displayed at the bottom. You could not see her face as the highest part visible was her chin.

But you knew damn right who this girl was in the video.

This was literally your channel.

"I- you like this YouTuber?" you asked, struggling to suppress an amused smile as you turned to face Wanda. Your heart raced, a mixture of pride and disbelief swelling inside you.

“Like? I’m her biggest fan! She’s amazing!” Wanda exclaimed, her enthusiasm bubbling over. “I’ve been following her for years! She posts tons of guitar covers, and every time she includes tutorials with free tabs. Do you know how hard it is to find good free tabs online?”

Of course you knew how difficult it was. That was why you started posting the tabs for free on your channel after listening to songs and music you liked.

Wanda carried on, her excitement contagious. And you were surprised to find that she was so talkative when talking about-

You.

“And you know what? She has the best taste in music! It’s like she always posts songs that I love! But it’s such a pity she never shows her face in the videos. I wish I could see what she looks like!” Wanda pouted at the thought of the face reveal but still looked radiant this whole time.

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks as Wanda continued to shower compliments on you, unaware that you were the person she had been talking about this whole time. 

You had never met any of your followers, or fans, in real life. Few people knew you were the one running this channel, except for your family and a few close friends. Yes, you had started the channel for a few years and you had had a decent number of followers that you were happy with. But hell, you had never imagined you would one day meet someone who claimed to be your fan. 

You got a fan?

You still couldn’t believe it.

Should you tell her?

She seemed to be a big fan of yours and really loved your music. That would make her happy, right? Knowing the YouTuber that she loved was sitting right next to her.

But then you hesitated, unsure if you should reveal that the person who had just tossed panties onto her face was the same person she had admired so much for so long.

What if you ruined her imagination of this great guitarist?

That’s also why you chose not to reveal your face in the first place. You wanted people to listen to your music, not judged it based on how you looked or who you were.

Or- if you were being honest-

You were afraid they wouldn’t like your music as much if they figured out who you really were.

The real you.

Just when you were struggling with your options, you heard the door fling open and a familiar voice reached your ears. “God, Wanda, I can’t believe I forgot my USB in-”

The three of you froze, exchanging glances.

“Y/N! You’re here!” Natasha seemed a bit surprised to see you sitting side by side with Wanda.

You rolled your eyes. Based on how well you knew Natasha, you were pretty sure she had forgotten your dinner plan. “We have dinner plans tonight.”

“Oh right! I’m sorry, dear, I forgot. Let me fix my project first and I’ll be right back.” Natasha mumbled something about her project as she rummaged through her table for the USB.

USB in hand, Natasha turned around with a smirk, her eyes twinkling with mischief. She leaned slightly against the table, crossing one arm over her chest while holding the USB up with the other. “Wanda, already forcing Y/N to watch your favorite YouTube channel?” she asked, her gaze shifting between the two of you with keen interest.

Wanda's cheeks turned a light shade of pink as she looked up at Natasha, her expression a mix of mild embarrassment and amusement. “Not forcing! I’m just introducing her to it!” she said, a small smile playing on her lips as she glanced over at you, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of her laptop.

“Hmm,” Natasha raised an eyebrow and shrugged before continuing, “You know, it’s nice you two finally met. I’ve been dying to introduce you to each other for so long!” Natasha said as she walked towards the door, the smirk still firmly in place. “Y/N, have you told Wanda already?”

“Tell me what?” Wanda snapped her head and looked at you curiously.

“Uh- I-” you stuttered, feeling the heat creeping up to your face again. Your mind raced, trying to make the right decision, but the intensity of Wanda’s gaze made it difficult to think straight.

“No way! You haven’t told her yet? Y/N is-”

You glared at Natasha, silently pleading with her to stop. She paused halfway through her sentence, throwing you a confused look before changing what she was going to spill. “- an excellent guitar player. She plays exactly as good as that YouTuber you like.”

Well, even if Wanda had to know, you should be the one telling her directly, not from any other’s mouth.

Natasha winked with a smug expression at you before you turned around to see Wanda’s eyes widen in shock, her mouth falling open slightly. “Seriously?”

“She’s just exaggerating,” you tried to downplay it, your hands fluttering nervously.

Wanda gasped, a mix of surprise and admiration in her voice. “Whoa that’s so cool! Can you actually play that song?”

“Yeah,” you admitted with a sheepish grin, scratching the back of your neck.

“Oh my God!” Wanda rolled off her bed to grab the guitar and handed it to you. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you play it for me? I really love that song.”

“Well-” you hesitated, feeling a bit embarrassed as all eyes were on you.

“Please?” Wanda added, her eyes wide and hopeful.

How could you say “no” to those puppy dog eyes silently begging you? Your heart melted at her earnest expression.

“Uh- sure,” you agreed, taking the guitar from her. 

You didn’t miss her genuine grin as you shifted to face her on the bed, holding the guitar on your lap. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, and she leaned forward slightly, her entire demeanor radiating excitement. The way she looked at you, full of eager curiosity, made your heart race even faster.

Though you felt a bit flustered playing in front of someone at such close proximity, the weight of the guitar in your hands was familiar and comforting. As you strummed the strings, the music notes seemed to soothe your nerves.

It all felt natural to you.

“Whoa-” Wanda exclaimed, momentarily speechless as you played the final note. When she lifted her gaze from your hands to meet your eyes, you could tell something had changed in the way she looked at you. “I can’t believe this! You play exactly like her after watching the video just once.”

“Thank you,” you chuckled sheepishly.

Well after all, you wrote that arrangement.

It was then you looked around the room and noticed Natasha was long gone. Only you and Wanda were left alone.

“That was- whoa!” Wanda mumbled, looking down at her hands on her lap. “I wish I could play like you. But my hand…I think I could never figure out the barre chord.”

“Your hand actually seems pretty big, maybe bigger than mine,” you said, opening your palm and glancing at it. When you looked up, you saw Wanda holding her hand up towards you, and you instinctively placed your hand against hers. “See? Yours is bigger than mine. You can definitely do this.”

“You think?” Wanda asked, her voice tinged with doubt as she glanced at her hand.

“Do you want to give it a try? Maybe I can help,” you suggested, adjusting the guitar on your lap and offering it to her.

“Is that okay?” Wanda’s fingers hovered uncertainly over the strings.

“Of course!” you replied with a reassuring smile.

You handed the guitar back to Wanda and watched as she placed her fingers on the neck, trying to play the B minor chord. She got the notes right, but the sound came out a bit muffled and unclear, with a faint buzz.

“Urgh!” Wanda groaned, her brows knitting together. “See? I can never get it right.”

“Alright, let’s see-” you said, moving closer to her and pointing at her fingers. “Do you mind if I adjust your fingers a bit?”

“Go ahead.” Wanda nodded eagerly.

“You need to move your index finger closer to the fret, like this. And maybe turn it slightly so your bone presses on the neck,” you explained, gently adjusting her finger. “Then bend your middle and ring fingers a bit more so they don’t touch the strings below.”

You checked her fingers one last time, making sure they were in the right position. “There you go. Try it again.” You nodded encouragingly at Wanda.

When her right hand strummed the strings, the chord rang out with a clean, crisp sound. You immediately smiled. “See? You’ve got this!”

Wanda’s eyes widened with disbelief, and she gasped slightly. “I did it! I can play the chord! Thank you so much!”

“No problem,” you grinned, feeling the earlier awkwardness dissolve.

[ozmodai]

So we know that you love Pyrroh; I wanna use this as an opportunity for you to ramble :) What is it about Pyrroh specifically that makes you love him the most; what is it that tickles your brain just right that drives you crazzyy about him? I wanna hear it!

GO OFF ABOUT PYRROH, HUH... dont mind if i do

(making ppl look at his face again)

JUST IN GENERAL he's a fun guy to think about for me. he's fairly easy to drop into most situations, different AUs, and interactions. where some of my other trolls are withdrawn or awkward or generally unsociable, as troll society doesn't really breed Community well (outright discourages it even), pyrroh's extroversion and curiosity lets them bounce well off others.

and while that makes it sound like he's more well adjusted, he's not LMAOOOOO he's fucked in the head and i like that a lot too

pyrroh's aware that he's conventionally attractive and uses it to his advantage. people are drawn to his surface but rarely bother digging any deeper than that. he makes himself insignificant using the spotlight, gets close to people by not letting anyone close. he seems friendly and laidback so most tend to trust him implicitly and by the time they've opened up to him about everything, they don't usually realize that they never really learned anything about him.

pyrroh is uncomfortable with being being known, so they embrace what people have already made up in their minds about the kind of person that they are - someone pretty and frivolous and ignorant - and lets their real traits and thoughts get lost in the void because it's easier and safer. since the last time he acted on his own, he ended up with a physical reminder of why he shouldn't whenever he looks in the mirror.

on the other hand, when there are those that aren't swept up by his facade and even dislike him for it, he's drawn towards them in turn LOL like pushing magnetic poles together and the repelling force renders them weaker (in this case, the walls pyrroh puts up). it's scary, but a part of him does want to be recognized as the self he's lost.

pyrroh is a liar and he's haunted and lets people walk all over him to protect himself and he stays silly and i like him a whole lot

[joicecubes]

this started as a twitter post but it got way too long

i feel. INSANE. ABOUT FIDDLESTAN YOU GUYS. i’ll admit i didn’t get it at first, like the original concept seems kinda bonkers, they never interact! what a silly rarepair! BUT NO. I SAW A SINGLE PIECE OF FANART AND IT WAS OVER FOR ME. IM HOOKED. im sorry i need to talk about them

my favorite set-up for fiddlestan, and the one i see most people going with, is the idea that fiddleford comes back to ford’s house after ford’s already been sucked through the portal, so he finds stan instead. and thats like such perfect/devastating (depending on how you look at it) timing because their wounds from ford are both so raw.

i feel like this is gonna get long so. gay rambling under the cut

on the one hand, they get from each other what they never got from ford. or at least, what they lost from ford. fiddleford wants love, he wants his unwavering devotion to ford to be reciprocated. and stan, being such a deeply lonely person, can give him that! what he wants is companionship. he wants a friend, like what he had in his brother. he wants forgiveness. and god, fiddleford is one of the kindest, most forgiving characters in the show. if anyone will see where stan is coming from, if anyone can extend forgiveness and understanding where ford fell flat, it’s fiddleford.

and while this exemplifies just how deeply they would need each other in this scenario, when you think about how tightly they both clung to ford, there presents a very real possibility that one or both of them would feel like ford’s replacement.

stan is ford’s twin. people have played with the idea that fiddleford would see a lot ford in stan, even though they may not be very similar in demeanor. they look the same. and deep down, they do have similarities. alex hirsch said in a dvd commentary that there is more of ford in stan than he even realizes, and fiddleford would probably see that. not to mention just how deeply he would miss him.

and when stan has always felt like a worse version of ford, you can imagine he might feel like a stand-in, especially as him and fiddleford get closer. fiddleford, whether he means to or not, would definitely see his best friend in stan. he has his face for god’s sake!! and would stan just accept it? would he be upset to be seen in this light, to act as a replacement, or would he accept that he’ll always be second to ford? either way is just. DEVASTATING. for fiddleford to unintentionally confirm all of stan’s deepest fears and insecurities…

and then there’s what fiddleford is to stan. while i don’t think fiddleford would feel as deeply a replacement as stan does, he IS a big fucking nerd. and stan probably begged him for help getting ford back when he found out that fiddleford is not only a scientist, but worked on the portal in the first place. and he of course wants ford back too, but it wouldn’t surprise me if fiddleford ends up feeling like stan only keeps him around for that purpose and that purpose alone. to learn more about ford, to live vicariously through him as ford’s best friend. because stan is desperate to know more about him, to satiate this need, this wound of missing his brother for over a decade.

god and all the little things too… fiddleford being riddled with anxiety and stan being able to ground him, to knock some much-needed sense into him the next time he wants to pick up that memory gun. stan struggling to take care of himself, to see his own self worth, and fiddleford being there to make sure he eats enough food, reminds him to shower, helps wash or cut his unkempt hair. falling asleep holding each other, because they need that comfort, that warmth, that heartbeat, to feel okay enough to rest.

ugh you could do sooo much with these bitches it drives me up the wall. i feel so unwell just thinking about them. i could yap even more but i’ll keep that for another post

[aromacaque]

Quick S5 Analysis and Theory

I AM GOING TO RAMBLE ANALYSIS BECAUSE THEY ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY

I cannot stop thinking about the way Wukong reacts to Macaque when he goes "oh no 'gee thanks for saving me macaque!...'" cause if this were before the S5E2, he would have snapped back at him, like he always does.

We know Macaque does this solely to rile Wukong up. It's how we're introduced to his character in S1E9 and he does it throughout the series. This is why he did it here too (or at least partially), BUT WUKONG DOESN'T TAKE THE BAIT THIS TIME.

While he's obviously still reeling from seeing the memory of their fight he was forced to watch,

you can still see that, for a split second, Wukong almost does snap back, but he instantly rethinks that and decides to be passive

Macaque, again, pokes at him trying to get a reaction, but this time Wukong doesn't even think about snapping back. He simply responds casually/lightly (before then realizing that MK is in danger)

This tells us possibly two really important things

Macaque sacrificing himself in S5E2 was a turning point for Wukong's perception of him. An increase in personal trust/faith/etc.

2. Seeing the memory of their fight made him rethink his behavior toward Macaque

For the rest of the season, they don't get a lot of moments because of, well, Everything, but we see Wukong is not only more willing to show concern for his wellbeing, but also seems to be more open/emotionally vulnerable in front of him than before (in little moments, anyway).

Granted that has been building up since S4E11, arguably before that but I'm not going to deep dive analyze season 3. He's being more communicative with Macaque in S5E1 about MK too. In other words, not completely shutting him out or pushing him away, which seems like their natural progression from S4E11 as well.

All of that being said, this brings me to The Scene. Which I am completely normal about because there's so much to unpack about it and I am so normal about that. Evidently.

First of all, they wanted to hold hands during their final moments. MK and Macaque are the two most important people in Wukong's life, I feel like that speaks for itself.

BUT it's Wukong who reaches out here.

This is Wukong's first major attempt to bridge the gap between them, at least in such a direct way. In my opinion, it's almost a wordless forgiveness on top of acknowledging how Macaque has changed and improved himself, as well as his reciprocation of that behavior. He wants to fix their relationship too, just as he has seen Macaque willing to do the same.

This moment being interrupted was actually a good thing. It's a good visual reminder that, despite them both wanting to reconcile, they aren't Quite there yet. There's still a lot left unsaid between these two, most importantly Macaque's death. (I'LL GET TO THAT. HOLD THAT IN YOUR BRAIN)

For macaque, this moment has another important meaning.

AND NOW I GET TO TALK ABOUT ONE OF MY FAVORITE WRITING TOOLS HELLO PARALLELS!!!!

In S2E7 we are introduced to this shot of Wukong on a pedestal over Macaque, turning his back on him and abandoning him. This is firmly established in that episode as one of the main reasons Macaque resents Wukong.

He is also portrayed as above him, subsequently nodding at Macaque feeling inferior to him.

In S4E11, we actually watch how this dynamic destroys their friendship. It is a MAJOR reason for their falling out. Macaque feels neglected, overlooked, ignored. Promises are broken and trust is lost. To him, Wukong is selfish, self-righteous, egotistical, uncaring, etc.

Obviously we as the audience are aware Macaque has a rather skewed perception of Wukong that seems to be influenced by his projection of his own insecurities, but that is a whole other analysis for a different time.

In S5E10, this shot is paralleled. Visually demonstrating that Wukong isn't forgetting about him this time. He looks for him. Macaque is being considered in a way he had previously believed was lacking in their friendship.

Not only that, but they are on level ground. Balanced and equal.

Macaque is reluctant to reach back out. His trust in Wukong is practically non-existent, has been for a while (understandably), so it's a little hard for him, but he reciprocates because, like Wukong, he's acknowledging that he has changed. He wants to try to fix this too.

TO RECAP!

They know they both want to fix things

They can see and have acknowledged changes in their behavior on both sides

Wukong seems to be less prone to arguing back, which will most likely make Macaque less likely to try and provoke him. All in all, they will be more civil with each other and most likely argue much less.

They are being held back by things left unsaid.

WHICH LEADS ME TOO...

WHERE DOES THIS LEAD THEM IN S6?

The obvious is they need to address Macaque's death. If they don't do it in this season it's bad writing and they are dragging it out for too long. It's the obvious natural progression here.

This is where they will have an actual, long overdue constructive conversation. It is literally singlehandedly the only thing preventing them from reconciling at this point.

Now, the problem, is how this would happen. Because we all know neither of them are going to randomly apologize out of nowhere. It's gonna take something to push them into that direction. And that should be how it happens otherwise it'd most likely feel forced in the script.

WHICH BRINGS ME TO A THEORY. A GAME THEO-

I'm not going to get into the nitty-gritty details of this particular theory, but just know that I am a firm believer in the "Macaque was consumed by his own powers and that's what killed him" theory. I do think Wukong played a substantial role in his death, enough for Macaque to reasonably believe Wukong killed him, but ultimately it was less Wukong directly killing him and more indirectly causing it and not saving him.

That being said, Wukong and Macaque's relationship is a major subplot in this show with a considerable amount of focus. They have been slowly building to their inevitable mending relationship since Macaque's first episode, which means that they're going to want to reach that climax in a pivotal emotional moment. Not a random conversation smacked into an episode.

And what is going to be plot-relevant next season??

MACAQUE'S CHAOS POWERS.

S5 built up to Macaque being an established member of the group

(Also the VO here being "change can be terrifying" is absolutely foreshadowing to some degree)

Now, there's also something else I need to address. Macaque has gone out of his way 3 separate times, 4 if you count the LBD fight, to save Wukong. On the other hand, Wukong obviously cares about Macaque, but ultimately hasn't had many opportunities or reasons to try to save him specifically.

With all of those details in mind, I think Wukong will need to take direct action by either saving him/protecting him/etc. because I think it would be a high-stakes moment that inevitably kickstarts an apology/conversation between them. Maybe it's something that reminds Wukong of their fight or that macaque can die (hence the chaos powers potentially harming Macaque in some manner or maybe a potential difficulty controlling them reminds Wukong of their fight, something along these lines).

Why this route?

Macaque has regained Wukong's trust. He basically says as much in S5E2. And while it's fairly obvious with Macaque's behavior and choices that he has learned from his past mistakes and is working on his faults, he definitely needs to acknowledge his wrongdoings. However, I think that would naturally happen during any conversation they may have (or the aftermath) regarding his death and their feelings.

That leaves Wukong because he made a promise to Macaque that they’d spend eternity together and that he would protect him and their home. A promise he broke multiple times and has not made up for yet. He needs to mend that and make it right to solidly regain Macaque's trust in order to reconcile.

[contract-crawdad]

Hey, wouldn’t it be cool if Lyle was a party member? I think it would be cool if Lyle were a party member.

Unused dialogue in the game’s files implies that he was likely considered as a party member, or at least, someone you could bring back to your apartment (spicy).

So!

Here’s a bunch of loose thoughts inspired by that.

Stats: low HP and STM (around 10), but high defense and speed.

—————

Gear: Wears his cloak in the body slot and refuses to take it off. It provides moderate defense, as well as immunity to blind. Also, Lyle is unable to wear any feet items.

—————

Weapons: Has a camera in his ranged slot that he won’t exchange for anything else. This does not effect his ability to be equipped with melee items.

—————

Skills:

- Say ‘Cheese’! a free skill that readies Lyle’s camera. Both Snapshot and Soul Snapshot can only be used after Say ‘Cheese’!.

- Snapshot costs 1 STM to take a picture of all enemies. Very high chance to apply blind and a much lower chance to apply stun. Eyeless enemies are immune to both statuses being inflicted this way, and certain enemies with many eyes or sensitive vision (onlookers, eye rats, Vincent, Eyecluster, and Stargazer) are especially vulnerable.

Small chance to apply blind to allies as well. If Morton or the rat child are in your party, they are always blinded, and Joel is immune to being blinded.

Every time an enemy is Snapshotted for the first time, it’s picture is added to Lyle’s scrapbook! For example, eye rats and belly rats are both distinct entries and combined add 2 pictures to the scrapbook. But if you take two pictures of two different mouth rats, you still only get 1 picture.

The number of unique enemies you’ve taken pictures of is tracked secretly, like the hygiene and morale stats. (Or I guess it could also be a bestiary situation?)

- Soul Snapshot costs 8 STM in order to cut a single enemy’s health by 1/4 of their current total. High change to fail if this is not the first time it is used in the battle.

- Scrapbook Bash costs 2 STM for Lyle to bonk an enemy over the head with his scrapbook. Does very little damage initially, but deals more and more for each enemy you’ve taken a Snapshot of throughout the game.

- Zoom Lens a free skill that reveals an enemy’s damage weaknesses, damage resistances, status immunities, and whatever status they are most susceptible to. Increases the accuracy of moves used on the target for 2-5 turns.

—————

Party interactions over dinner:

- Leigh urges him to take his cloak off, to ‘stop hiding what he really is and just revel in it’, like she does. When he declines, she’s disappointed, and mutters something about having been ‘excited to wrestle someone her own size’.

- Pappineau and Lyle chat about the best kinds of glad cleaners. They both appreciate that the other recognizes that the difference between cleaners for windows and for more delicate glassware like, for instance, camera lenses. Sam is utterly lost.

- You can ask him where he’s been getting all this film he’s been using, since he never seems to run out, to which he sheepishly replies that he ‘makes it himself’. Sam decides not to press further.

- Sophie won’t stop trying pestering Lyle about why he’s all covered up. She’s either not buying the whole ‘I’m sensitive to light, like photo paper’ thing, or she’s just curious. Sam can resolve the situation by whispering to Sophie that ‘he’s just self conscious’, to which she nods understandingly. “Oooooh, I get it, he’s UGLY, why didn’t you just say so?”

Favorite video game:

Wouldn’t it be cute if you could start up a D&D campaign with the books you find in Lyle’s apartment?

This concludes my many long and rambling thoughts!

Shoutout to this awesome post by @lily-wisp for revealing the unused game dialogue!

[lqveharrington]

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? | A.W.

summary: flashes of old memories come back and your first instinct is to tell warner about them (find request here!)

pairing: aaron warner x fem!reader

includes: cursing, reestablishment, kidnapping, brainwashing, some fluff

a/n: last fic for the 2k celebration! again, tysm for 2k and i hope you all enjoy this last request 🩷

When Castle appointed you and Kenji to become undercover soldiers in Sector 45, you didn't think you would work that closely with Chief Commander and Regent, Aaron Warner. You were disappointed to be working away from the only person you knew, but it was a mission you both needed to complete without complaint. As much as you disliked the man, you could never disobey his orders and he never thought much of you until — well — Omega Point kidnapped him.

Warner refused to speak to anyone at Omega Point. Castle approached him, Kenji attempted to coax him into spilling anything, and Juliette tried to connect with him. No matter what they did, nothing seemed to get him to budge. Their only last option was sending the only other person Warner was familiar with.

You.

You would sit in his room for hours, rambling about whatever popped up in your mind or venting about Kenji being a pain in the ass. He would never respond — merely watching you with a blank face until you mentioned your closet. Warner couldn't help but admit you were one of the better dressed people in Omega Point, so he eventually responded to your nonsense, making your eyes widen when you heard how raspy his voice had gotten.

“Did she take the black dress?”

You nod furiously, “She did! I specifically told her not to, and she—“ You paused and looked up from where you sat, staring at the blonde like you were going crazy.

He tilted his head down at you and raised a brow, challenging you to say something other than your story. You squinted your eyes at him before continuing your rambling about how a girl took your favorite dress without permission.

It didn't take long until Warner warmed up enough for you to have proper conversations — from mornings to near midnight. Everything you spoke about was continued nonsense, but he got so used to it that he knew all your reactions to certain situations.

He knew your favorite color was green because of how much you rambled on about missing trees in the spring — although you noted his eyes were also a bonus to the color. He knew you loved combat fighting but absolutely hated killing people if it wasn't for self-defense. Even if it were, you would tend to shut off and disassociate with the world. Warner knew more about you than most people at Omega Point and you knew that. Something in the back of your head allowed you to get vulnerable with him.

“You remind me of someone I used to know.” You murmur and trace the lines across his palms, committing each crease to memory like a map.

“Do I?” His gazed stayed locked onto your face, wanting to reach into your mind and truly understand who you were.

You nod and lace your warm hand with his cold one, meeting the green eyes that you came to adore over time. “Yes.” You lean your head on his shoulder and stare at his jade ring you learned his mother gifted him. “When I’m with you… a warm feeling spreads across my chest. It’s like you unlocked a memory I thought I lost.”

Now, no one was really sure when you and Warner became you and Warner, but it felt as natural as catching yourself when falling. After every mission — even when the last people of Omega Point moved to Sector 45's headquarters — you would come over to his room and just lay in his bed, quietly talking about the losses you saw or the lost hope of citizens on the streets while and ran his fingers through your hair, letting you press your thumb against his pulse to feel a beating heart that wasn't your own.

It was routine until you stopped showing up to his room one night.

You had just taken duty to scan the area before heading to bed, but no one knew Paris Anderson was coming over to keep close watch. He had gotten word about the rebellion brewing in Sector 45 and had to do damage control before it spread to the other Supreme Commanders. Especially when his own son was the one taking care of this specific sector.

Paris was ruthless with those who defied his orders and you were perfect to take away from his disobedient son. You were gone for weeks until Castle found information about your whereabouts. You were supposedly taken to Oceania and turned into the Reestablishment's super soldier, brainwashed and used for unspeakable purposes. Warner didn’t even want to think about how they made you do their biding.

It wasn't until months passed that Castle decided to do something about your disappearance — each second only wavering Warner's trust in Omega Point. Although they were already caught up in such messes, Warner's number one priority was always you. He didn't care what lengths he had to go through to bring you back, he just wanted to make sure you were alright; That you were still okay.

Castle warned Warner that you wouldn’t be the same person you were when you left — but he knew that you were still in there. You just needed time to recover from the brainwashing. Of course, Warner was always right about you.

It shocked everyone that you saved them when Paris’ soldiers moved to attack, even you were confused once the deed was done. You didn’t understand why you went out of the way to save people you were told were the enemy. But as quick as the shock came, Castle and Kenji grabbed you and moved along, not letting you process anything you had done.

You branded yourself an enemy to the Reestablishment once more. Although Paris was now dead and the title of Supreme Commander of North America transferred to Warner, the other Supreme Commanders watched with a keen eye. They didn’t know if you would ever remember who you were before, but they knew if you did, the Reestablishment would be lost forever.

However, your memories were locked away. Castle tried everything to bring them back, but nothing seemed to work. He deemed that the best way for you to unlock your memories was by waiting it out. Everyone was instructed to treat you the same way they did before. Kenji was back to being a pain in the ass, Castle became the father figure, and Warner… He remained neutral with you.

Warner didn’t want to overwhelm you with the love you once shared. He could tell — from the look on your beautiful face — that you felt like an imposter amongst friends. If he told you about your past romance together, you would probably have a mental breakdown and never recover from the brainwashing.

Due to Warner’s forced neutrality toward you, you couldn’t help but feel more gravitated to him. He made you feel normal in a group of people who weren’t so normal. You weren’t sure what exactly induced you to constantly stick around him, but it seemed to help your memory comeback. Even if it was the smallest things that came back to you.

“Aaron?” You asked quietly as you put a finger in between the pages of your book, looking at him from across the couch. Your favorite part of the day was sitting in the mini library with Warner and reading, listening to the crackling of the fire in front of you.

Warner’s eyes flitted up to meet yours, giving you a reassuring smile when you hesitated. “What is it?”

You bite your bottom lip and close your book, discarding it on the side table. “I think I remember something else? I’m not sure if it’s important though.”

“Every memory you can recall is a feat.” He followed suit and shut his own book. Warner watched as you played with a thread on your sweater, tilting his head when you rested your chin on your pulled up knees.

“I think I remember my favorite color.” You speak so softly that Warner almost didn’t catch it. “I think it’s green. Do I know why it’s green? No.” You looked at him again and smiled when you saw his green eyes already staring. “But I’m positive it’s green.”

Warner nodded and pushed back some of his fallen hair, “Is that all you remember?”

You shut your eyes and try recalling anything else, ultimately coming up with nothing except for your favorite color. You shook your head and sighed in frustration. “It’s been weeks and I still can’t remember who I really was. Castle keeps pushing me into combat fighting and Kenji keeps making these horrible jokes I don’t get. I just—“ You huff and bury your face in your hands, mind reeling from everything. “I’m sorry, I just needed someone to ramble to.”

He creased his brows and let you take a moment to just breathe. He could see how hard you were trying to retain all the memories who previously had, but he didn’t want you to strain yourself.

The light from the fire shadowed across the both of you as Warner took your hand in his and thumbed the back of your hand, tracing invisible lines. You let a tired smile slip through, looking down at your joined hands.

“Why is it that you’re the only one that treats me normally?” You question him and lean your body into the couch further, his touch all too familiar. “I’m sure this isn’t how it was before.”

He hummed and squeezed your hand, “No, it’s not.” Warner pulled the blanket that was draped on the back of the couch to lay across your body, admiring the way your eyes lit up at the gesture. “Our… friendship is a lot more complicated than that.”

You tilt your head and listen carefully to his words. There was an underlying definition in them, but you couldn’t quite place it. Not yet. Instead, you opted to pull closer to the blonde and drape the blanket on him as well, resting your head on his shoulder while you stared at the fireplace. You could hear his steady heart beat from the quietude of the room and it calmed you significantly, allowing you to just exist in a world of chaos.

“I know why I like to hang around you now.” You say absentmindedly and continue to stare at the crackling fire, the logs burning hot red and orange. “There’s a feeling that spreads through my chest when I’m with you — almost like a fire. It’s warm,” You murmur and subconsciously touch the left side of your chest. “And that’s what it feels like to unlock every memory they locked away.”

Warner rested his cheek on the top of your head and shut his eyes, his hand slowly running up and down your arm. You were gaining back memories without even knowing it. You spoke the words you told him months ago with no hesitation.

It didn’t matter what happened between the two of you, he would always be waiting and you would always fall in love with him.

Every. Single. Time.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[glacierclear]

Disorganized rambling lore dump for Eden (sorta for my own reference, for the purpose of categorizing thoughts!)

Exploring the concept of a werewolf who doesn't know they're a werewolf and lives in constant denial, despite all the warning signs.

D&D lore seems to revolve a lot around "rejecting" or "embracing" your lycanthropy and I thought it would be interesting to conceptualize a character that rejects it so thoroughly they don't even know they have it.

Eden Glee was the youngest sibling of a strong and resourceful family. They didn't have a lot. They lived within their means, and relied on one another. Eden was playful. Mischievous. Ventured too far, took miscalculated risks, and frequently caused trouble for their family. Eden was always an unlucky child.

They met the wolf alone one night. In an attempt to free the poor creature's leg from a trap, it attacked them, marring their face and inflicting them with lycanthropy. They managed to run home, crying and telling their family that a strange dog had bit them in the woods, unaware of its true nature.

On the night of their first transformation, their family was killed.

To them, they were the sole survivor of a vicious attack, not realizing they were the true culprit.

Wherever they went, death followed. They fled to towns. Villages. Remote settlements. Every month brought new corpses. Of course, they came to the most obvious conclusion.

With motivations unknown, the beast must have followed them, bonding on the night they had met.

So, Eden chose isolation. They ventured east, building a home for themselves in the deep forests of Cormanthor. They became self-sufficient. The further they were from people, the safer everyone would be.

Time lost structure. In the years spent hiding, months intermingled, and gaps in their cognition blurred. It no longer felt odd to lose days' worth of memories. That's just how the cycle worked when you lived alone. Surely, this is just that "cabin fever" people would talk about.

Every so often, they'd stumble upon new carnage. A desecrated animal corpse. A ripped up tree trunk. The remains of unfortunate wanderers passing through the woods. All reminders that the beast still lurked. It still followed.

And it was easy to take things as they came. To dismiss changes in their body as explainable phenomena.

Staring at the moon made them uncomfortable now. The light almost itched the blood beneath their skin. But they had always preferred the daytime, anyways. The only reason they were in this mess to begin with was because they were out past dark. It made sense to grow wary. Silver burned and stung their flesh. Mama's necklace had to be sealed away in a box. But their big brother once developed a strawberry allergy when they were young. It wasn't outside of the realm of possibility that this was a similar case. They had always preferred the look of bronze, anyways. Their family would grow wolfsbane. It made excellent poisons, and they'd pick the flowers to decorate their hair, even if it numbed their hands and tingled their scalp. But now, just the sight of it horrified them, triggering an almost guttural, vicious reaction. But...grief manifested in strange places. Perhaps the reminder was too painful, even after so long.

But, worse than anything else, they just missed the world. They missed friends and laughter and warm fires shared with those they loved. The weight they shouldered was heavy, but as long as the beast still lived, they would not risk another. God, they could not lose another.

They were beyond seeking answers. The best they could do was manage the circumstance. Ward away as many as they could. Keep people out.

Maybe there was no explanation. No reason for why this happened each and every month. That was just the nature of bad luck.

And throughout the years, that had never changed.

Eden was always an unlucky child.

[cosmicdahlias]

A Fatal Mistake

a ford x reader fic

MINORS DNI

Ford is being driven to the brink of insanity for betraying Bill, constantly possessed and harmed in every way possible. He’s been missing for days and you’re working to find him when he comes through the front door, looking incredibly worse for wear.

warnings: blood, injury, possession, oral, p in v, creampie, knives, death

i included one of my favorite astronomy facts! i loved astronomy in high school, it was actually one of the few classes i applied myself in. i was gonna give the ending my usual fluff treatment, but after reading the book of bill and seeing how dark things get in the lost journal pages i couldn’t help myself.

It had been days since you had seen your research partner, Ford. As of late disappearing for a day or two was commonplace for him, but it had been almost a week with no sign of him.

You never had any idea what he got himself up to when he took off like that. He’d come back with various injuries and when you tried to probe him for their source he always insisted he didn’t remember. Normally you’d think he was lying, but it genuinely seemed like he was telling the truth.

It killed you to see him like this. Not just because you cared for him as your research partner, but because you harbored deep feelings for him. You always had, ever since you met him all those years ago in college.

When he called you up asking for you to come work with him in a small town in Oregon, you happily agreed to it without a second thought. For the longest time it was just you and him, discovering and documenting the weirdness that inhabited Gravity Falls. There were so many times you wanted to tell him how you felt, but you were plagued with cold feet.

Years had passed when another brilliant mind joined the team after you’d both hit a roadblock in your studies. Ford had been struck with the idea, as if from nowhere, to build an inter-dimensional portal. You two were incredibly brilliant, but lacked the engineering skills to complete this monumental task on your own. Ford called up his old college roommate, Fiddleford McGucket, in Palo Alto. He eagerly accepted the offer, insisting Ford’s plans were “mathematically feasible!”

As much as you enjoyed Fiddleford’s company, any chance you’d had to confess your feelings to Ford fell by the wayside. Between diligent work and never being alone with him, you simply didn’t have the time.

After months of the three of you spending every waking moment on the portal, the time came to finally test it. Things went wrong, horribly wrong. The rope tied to the test dummy had wrapped around Fiddleford’s wrist, pulling him halfway through the portal. Ford’s and your quick thinking allowed you two to heave him back out. Ford tried to ask him what he had seen, but he rambled incomprehensible nonsense and said the machine would bring about the apocalypse. He quit on the spot.

What should have been a silver lining to have Ford to just yourself again did not turn out to be so. In the following days he became erratic, paranoid, overrun by sleep deprivation, constantly turning his head as if to sounds you could never hear. He was a shell of his former self, but you were determined to stick by him.

One morning he called you frantically, all you could make out was “Fiddleford was right”. He did not elaborate, insisting he had more to say to you in person. Alarmed by the obvious decline in his mental state, you raced over. He sat you down on his couch and explained everything.

He confessed that building the portal was not his idea, that he was instructed to do so by an otherworldly being by the name of Bill Cipher. He had trusted him, lured in by Bill stroking his admittedly massive ego, praising his high IQ, and promising him the secrets that would solve the mystery that was the weirdness of Gravity Falls. Bill said that the portal would be Ford’s magnum opus, a true conclusion to the answers he so desperately sought.

But it was all a lie. Bill needed the portal to link his dimension to yours so he could take over and establish a “Weirdmageddon”. A cataclysmic event that would turn all reason and logic on its head, it would spell the end to life and the universe as you knew it.

It was a lot to take in, but the look on Ford’s face told you that this was gravely serious. You took his word without question, vowing to put an end to Bill’s plans and destroy him at all costs. Within days the disappearances started to happen.

At first you wondered if these episodes were some kind bender, be it alcohol or drugs… or both. Perhaps a way to cope with the reality of being used as Bill’s pawn in a sick game of chess for the fate of the universe. But now you were certain there was something far more sinister at play.

It was a fairly common occurrence that you saw his eyes glow bright yellow, pupils catlike. His demeanor would shift and his voice would change in register, almost as if someone was speaking through him. During these instances it was like he became a different person, he was wild and unpredictable. He would say things to you either for shock value or in an overtly flirtatious manner just to see you turn red.

You had studied your fair share about demonic possession. With the way Ford had described previous moments where Bill had taken over, back when he still considered him his “Muse”, it was a no-brainer that Ford was once again being used by Bill. This time it was for his own sick enjoyment of making his former puppet suffer, a punishment for Ford’s betrayal.

You sat in the secluded cabin in the woods the two of you used to conduct research in, before things had become so tumultuous. Night had fallen and you were on the phone speaking to the GFPD.

“So you’re not going to send out someone to look for him until morning!? Why can’t you do it now? He hasn’t been seen in days! He could be-“

The front door swung open with an incredibly disheveled Ford standing in the doorway.

“FORD!” You shouted.

“Hello, hello?” The officer asked over the phone.

“He just walked in the door, sorry for all the trouble.” You said unceremoniously, slamming the phone.

“Where have you been? I was so worried!” You said.

Before Ford had a chance to respond he began to fall forward, you leapt to your feet and caught him before his face could make contact with the floor. You took his face in your hands and studied his eyes. They looked insanely bloodshot and exhausted, but thankfully normal.

“Ford, what the hell happened to you?”

“I- I don’t know.” He murmured faintly.

“Let me get you somewhere comfortable.”

You lifted him up, put your arm around his shoulders and led him back to his room, sitting him on the couch. You scanned him from head to toe. His white button-up shirt was torn with a long horizontal laceration across his chest, a ring of blood stained his shirt, it looked like he’d been attacked with a knife. You put a hand to his chest, he flinched.

“Oh, Ford. Who did this to you?”

“I can’t recall a thing. I remember nothing from the near week I was gone.”

“Regardless, I need to get you cleaned up. I’ll be right back.”

You headed to the bathroom where he kept a first aid kit in the medicine cabinet. You made your way back and sat next to him on the couch.

“This shirt’s gonna have to go.” You said, pulling scissors from the kit.

“I don’t think there’s any chance of salvaging it anyway.” He chuckled weakly.

You removed his tie and cut away at his shirt, sliding the remains off his arms and revealing his chest. With the shirt no longer obstructing your view you could see that the cut was deep, but thankfully not enough to require stitches. He had avoided a hospital trip… this time.

“You know, you’re probably gonna have to get a tetanus shot.” You said.

He laughed softly “I’ll take it over rabies shots, those are hell.”

You pulled out a small bottle of disinfectant and a cotton pad. He winced as you applied it to the gash.

“I’ll never get accustomed to this sensation.” He said through gritted teeth.

“I’d imagine obtaining the injury was far worse.”

“It’s a good thing I can’t remember it then.” He smiled sheepishly.

You unfurled a roll of gauze, pulling his back away from the couch and wrapping his chest.

“Ford, you have to tell me why you keep vanishing. I know you say you don’t remember, but I’m certain there’s more to it. I know it has something to do with Bill.”

He looked away, afraid to meet your gaze. You took his cheek in your hand, turning him to face you.

“Hey, I tell you everything, I know you can do the same for me.”

He put his hand over yours and took a deep breath. “I leave because I don’t want to put you in danger. On nights where I can no longer fight the exhaustion, Bill threatens me in my dreams- my nightmares. He wants to hurt you.”

“There has to be a way I can help keep him from taking over. Something, anything.”

“I wish I knew, but I… don’t. I feel like I’m slowly going insane, but at least if I’m away from you I can’t harm you.”

“I’m not letting you face this on your own, we’re a team and I’m not going anywhere. You scared me half to death over these last few days. I started to think I might’ve lost you. I’m not losing you again, not even for a second.”

“You don’t understand the violent things Bill wants me to do to you, to kill you.”

With stakes as high as they were you realized how foolish it was to keep secrets, even your feelings for him.

“No matter what happens, I’m staying. I love you, Ford.”

You leaned in and kissed him. When you pulled back he stared at you, blood rushing to his cheeks.

“You love me?” Ford he whispered.

“I have for over a decade.”

“I- I had no idea.”

“Well, you’re the smartest man I know, but you’re incredibly stupid when it comes to romance.” You laughed.

“Touché.” He smiled.

“Ford, I don’t know if you feel the same way, but I’ve wanted you for so lo-“

He cut you off by pulling you onto his lap and kissing you passionately.

“I love you too, stardust.”

Ah yes, the nickname he’d given you in college. You had told him a fact about how certain elements in human bodies only form from the death of a star. You told him “we are literally made of stardust” and the name stuck. He always said it in a way that came off platonically, but this time as it left his lips it was obvious the intent was vastly different.

He looked at you directly in the eyes, he hated eye contact so you knew you must’ve mattered to him a great deal.

“I’ve felt the same way for so long, I just never thought you did so I put my feelings aside, buried them deep. You have no idea how often my thoughts are occupied by you. There were so many times I would just watch you working, the way your brow furrows in concentration is adorable. I need you like a flower craves sunlight, like a fish to water.” He whispered.

You kissed him again, tangling your fingers in his hair. He lowered his mouth to your neck, kissing and sucking the skin. You ground yourself against him, eliciting a soft moan against your neck and causing him to grow achingly hard.

“God, I’ve wanted this since the day you came into my life.” He breathed.

You sunk to the floor in front of him and started undoing his belt. You unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock. Jesus christ, he was big. You stroked him a few times before taking him in your mouth.

“F- fuck, your mouth feels incredible.” He moaned.

You moved your head up and down his shaft, Ford whimpering far more than you had expected.

“Ah, hhhnh, don’t stop.” He whined.

He ran his fingers through your hair, moaning and softly bucking his hips into your mouth. He took great care to not move hard enough to make you gag. You picked up your pace, stroking him with your hand as you sucked.

“Nhhhh where did you learn to do something like that? You’re so good at this. Y- you’re gonna make me c- cum if you keep guh- going- ah- like that.” He stuttered.

You bobbed your head furiously on him. He tangled his fist in your hair and gently pulled your mouth off of him.

“N- no, stop. I need to feel myself inside you. Please?”

You nodded and he turned himself to lay back on the couch, you stood and slipped your panties off from under your skirt, dropping them to the floor. You got on top of him, straddling his hips and hovering over his cock. You lowered yourself to take his length inside you, now it was your turn to whimper as your pussy struggled to accommodate him.

“Dear moses, stardust, and I thought your mouth felt good. You’re heavenly. So warm and- mmh- tight.”

You slid him fully inside you, never feeling so filled by cock before in your life. He rested his hands on your hips and you began to move yourself on him. He threw his head back, already overwhelmed by the mere feeling of your pussy taking his cock.

He panted. “You can’t imagine the amount of times I’ve pictured something like this. How often you’ve distracted me from my work. The nights I’ve spent with my hand wrapped around my cock, the mere thought of you pushing me to orgasm. Oh stars, how I longed to know you intimately.”

He slipped a hand between your thighs, stroking your clit with his thumb, the other hand still holding your hip. You bit your lip, stifling what would have been an uncomfortably loud moan, tightening around him.

“Good girl, I love how my touch makes you constrict my cock.”

You became even tighter at his praise.

“Nnnnahhh, Ford.”

“Is that a praise kink I sense, stardust?”

You nodded fervently.

“That’s my girl, so needy for my words.”

You lifted and dropped your hips, sliding him fully in and out of you at a steady rhythm. His eyes rolled back into his head, completely overtaken by the pleasure of you. His breath was ragged, his eyes never leaving you, darting between your body and face.

“You’re so gorgeous, stardust. I’ve studied so many creatures over the years, seen the likes of sirens and nymphs, but you are by far the most enchanting.”

He reached up a hand to cup your cheek, you leaned into his touch. You felt yourself growing close between both his words and thumb on your clit. You made an attempt to tell him, but all that came out was unintelligible whimpering.

“Oh Ford, you’re- I’m gonna- ah- nhhhh.”

“That’s it, you’re such a good girl. Cum for me, you’re almost there.”

You absolutely lost it at his praise, digging your nails into his shoulders and riding him as hard as you possibly could until you came completely undone around him. The feeling of you spasming and contracting around him sent him over. He released your clit, both hands gripping your hips. He slammed you down onto the full length of his cock and came deep inside you.

“Dear god, y/n!” He half moaned, half whimpered.

Your pace died down and for a while you stayed on top of him. You both said nothing, just looking into each other’s eyes and panting as your heart rates settled. You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips and pulled yourself off of him. You laid down, Ford spooning you.

“In the name of all the stars in the known universe and beyond, you are absolutely incredible, stardust.” He sighed, content.

“I love you, Ford.” You said, eyelids growing heavy.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you too, y/n.”

You both lay in silence, slumber embracing you. Bill knew it was now or never. He took control of Ford and silently moved him off the couch so as to not wake you. He led him to the kitchen, pulling out a large knife. He crept back into the room where you slept, looming over you.

You stirred. “Mnh, Ford? What are you-“

Your eyes widened in terror as you caught sight of the knife in his hand, his eyes glowed unnaturally in the dim light. Adrenaline rushed through your veins, you bolted off the couch and ran for your life. You burst through the front door and took off into the forest, the light of the full moon being the only thing to keep you from crashing into the trees.

A constant crunching of snow behind you was a strong indicator that Ford was pursuing you. Tears streamed down your face. You said you would stand by him no matter what and now you were paying the price for thinking with your heart.

You looked back to see if you were still being followed, but didn’t see him. Before you could even turn your head again you collided with something, falling to the ground. You looked up and your heart sank. Ford grinned with a smile so wide it looked as if the corners of his mouth would split open.

“Hey there, dollface. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

-

Ford came to god knows how much later. He blinked, vision blurry, as it always was after Bill had taken hold. He could see a figure lying in the snow and as his eyes began to focus he screamed in horror.

You lay before him, your body stabbed near beyond recognition, an immense pool of blood stained the fresh snow. There was no way to bring you back, you were gone. A page ripped from Ford’s journal laid on top of you.

“Did you really think I’d let you have your happy ending with your little ‘stardust’? It’s just us now, sixer, I’m all you’ll ever need.”

[anincompletelist]

2025 wips!

hi all! :D

very low pressure tag to everyone (open tag as well!) to share what you're working on in 2025! I've hit a bit of a wall and need to get organized, and even though most of my fics are impromptu 4am ramblings, I figured I'd hold myself accountable here and make it into a game of sorts for anyone who might be inclined to do the same.

I hope you've all had a lovely new year so far! x

*obligatory slightly nsfw warning*

ex-marine henry

after being dishonorably discharged from his position in the royal marines that he never truly wanted in the first place, henry finds himself adrift, hoping to start anew in the states. he meets alex, a younger, freshly divorced lawyer with whom it appears at first he has nothing in common with, but soon finds much more than he bargained for as they embark on an at times tumultuous but ultimately fulfilling fifteen-year relationship, navigating the threads of vulnerability, grief, friendship, and love.

rejected soulmates support group

the world has begun to move past the singular thinking that one is incomplete without their soulmate. henry knows that many people live long, fulfilling lives on their own or with a partner that might not have been fate's first choice for them. but at heart he's always been a hopeless romantic, and when fate decides to take his soulmate's life before they've even met one another yet on the tail end of the still-raw grief of losing his father, it feels as if the world is against him. lonely and lost, henry reluctantly seeks out support in the form of a small group that meets once a week, each member bringing their own perspective of loss to the circle. he'd thought he'd decided on staying alone for the rest of his life, but alex, a kind, curious empath with plenty of baggage of his own, might be the fresh perspective he needs to give love another try.

the simple life au

as part of their damage control tour, alex and henry are forced to take part in a reboot of the show 'The Simple Life' with a twist -- they'll spend five episodes between texas and washington and five in the uk, taking turns learning what each other's day-to-day looks like. between the press junkets and lazy rivers in the states and the ballrooms and etiquette training in london, both of them find themselves with more empathy for the other than they'd anticipated. the cameras capture not only their fast friendship but the beginning of a burgeoning, unexpected romance as well, defying their initial objective and sparking tentative optimism for a previously impossible future. they're still far from free, though, as both countries have their best interests in mind and full control over what narrative is aired to the world. it's going to take a leap of faith to make it work, but alex is more than ready to show henry how to jump.

speak easy

alex, a computer science major, has never met a number he didn't like. until he starts failing the poetry section of his mandatory english course. encouraged to seek out a tutor, his professor points him toward henry, a known writer and fellow student that always seems to evade alex's attempts to get to know him more deeply. henry leads him through his own self-proclaimed five step program to becoming a 'poet', strengthening his voice and ultimately helping him pass the course. but finding his voice means visiting parts of himself that alex had previously kept locked up tight or hadn't even known were there in the first place, and sharing his realizations with henry forms a bond between them that not even the journals-full of prose passed back and forth can scratch the surface of. that won't stop him from trying, though.

+

detroit become human inspired au

henry and pez run a safe haven for those who were once machines, deemed faulty for having developed genuine humanity and facing imminent decommission if found out. the next evaluation is in less than 24 hours, and alex's humanity is at 94%. luckily, he makes it to henry just in time.

midnight cowboy

alex, the lead singer of the widely known and highly acclaimed band midnight cowboy, is henry's biggest guilty pleasure—which is saying quite a lot. as a professional escort for the rich and elite, almost none of his pleasure is guilty these days. it feels like a fever dream when he gets the request from alex himself asking to spend a night together. he's long since being anyone's experiment, but with alex, unfortunately, henry finds he enjoys the idea of being some kind of first. (is 'only' too much to ask for?)

gynecologist henry

alex has done the college thing. the dream job thing. the casual, short term relationship thing. on paper, he has everything he ever said he wanted. it'd just be nice if he had someone to share it with sometimes. it'd be even nicer if his sister would stop trying to set him up with her gynecologist, who evidently finds himself in the same position.

+1 for the let's talk about sex! series

henry attends therapy in brooklyn once alex has moved in and things have slowed down a bit. it's predictably difficult but for the better, until they begin to cover the topic of his past relationships -- more specifically, sex. facing realizations that can no longer be shoved away, henry confides in alex and they reevaluate what intimacy might look like for them in the wake of healing from trauma.

+2 for the let's talk about sex! series

henry has to switch antidepressants and worries that his decreased libido will cause issues with his and alex's active sex life.

+3 for the let's talk about sex! series

henry arrives home early one night to find alex touching himself, which prompts a conversation about alex's past partners, misplaced shame, and self-pleasure within intimate relationships.

chauffeur alex

alex is the personal driver for henry, secret writer and infamous royal who'd abdicated and come to the states in his 20's to live freely and to marry his husband. now in his near-forties, the glamour and novelty of his story having long since worn off alongside his failing marriage, henry finds that alex is the only one he can confide in without fear -- and who is convinced that henry deserves so much more than he's getting. the last thing either of them need is to get feelings involved, but neither can say they tried as hard as they should've to have stopped them.

+

texan slang +1's

henry's been learning spanish already for the last few years in an effort to connect more with alex and his family. he did not, however, prepare for the myriad of texan-ism's that he encounters once they're back in austin, which is beginning to seem like a language all its own.

aftercare (+4 for the let's talk about sex! series)

neither alex nor henry have been in a serious relationship before and are unfamiliar with aftercare since it isn’t something they had with their previous partners. after a particularly intimate and intense round of lovemaking, they find themselves both feeling a little lost and restless, leading to a conversation about how they can best be there for each other after sex going forward. 

bottoming 101 (+5 for the let's talk about sex! series)

alex wants to bottom for the first time post-canon. henry walks him through the process—even the not-so-glamorous parts—and alex experiences a newfound appreciation for the previously unknown efforts that they go to to express their love.

dom bottom alex

self explanatory, really.

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plus probably a lot of random ideas and/or add-on's to current series!

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.

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tags (no pressure!):

@kiwiana-writes @rmd-writes @everwitch-magiks @run-for-chamo-miles @firenati0n

@zwiazdziarka @miharaikko @littlemisskittentoes @judasofsuburbia @anchoredarchangel

@suseagull5914 @porcelainmortal @nocoastposts @clockwrkpendrxgon @sophie1973

@iboatedhere @getmehighonmagic @smc-27 @cha-melodius @tintagel-or-cockleshells

@caterpills @eusuntgratie @inexplicablymine @happiness-of-the-pursuit @sparklepocalypse

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf @wordsofhoneydew @cricketnationrise @whimsymanaged @myheartalivewrites

@junebugclaremontdiaz @hypnostheory @blueeyedgrlwrites @futureseaempress @ninzied

@tinyarmedtrex @dizzymisslizzie @clottedcreamfudge @kj-bee @largepeachicedtea

@miss-minnelli @bananzie @starrypiscesao3 @fairflowered @4rthurfox

+ OPEN TAG please feel free to join in, and also if you're an artist feel free to modify it to include what art you're excited to make in 2025!

see you all soon! x

[v3nusxsky]

Can you do dominating Larissa and subby reader, reader is a surgeon, that is putting her kid in Larissa's school and is a single mother and starts looking at Larissa like she's a chew toy, but Larissa asks about reader's job and reader starts explain what she does and Larissa gets lost in all of it but loves hearing reader talk. And pulls reader into a kiss. Reader is tall and curvy. Maybe gp? Please also reader is head of cardiothoracic surgery. I love your work Mars keep it up. Thank youuuu

My heart surgeon

*Authors note~ this is a super cute. I’m sorry I changed the request but I couldn’t seem to get any smut to flow and I just hope I can do it some justice but medical knowledge is not my specialty so Google was heavily relied on*

Trigger warnings~ medical talk, reader is a cardiologist surgeon, fluffy

Prompt~ see ask^^^

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Raising an Empath as a single parent was no easy feat. Couple that with your career and well, you were spread thin. Years of medical school and practice as a fully qualified surgeon couldn’t prepare you enough for parenthood. Knowing your child could feel pain of those around them being discovered when they visited you at the hospital. Watching your child scream in pain and being helpless near enough killed you. It was then you realised, as much as you love them, you couldn’t give them the best chance at understanding their abilities. One place could though. Even if it meant leaving your child alone at school for the first time in your life.

The first letter they wrote to you was informing you of parents weekend. Intelligence ran high in your bloodline so it was to no surprise that your sweet thoughtful child reminded you it was okay if you were busy saving lives. They would live. But it wasn’t something you were prepared to miss out on, after weeks of not being able to hold them in your arms and tell them you love them was affecting you more than you thought even though you knew they’d began to settle in well thanks to Larissa Weems, the beautiful principal, informing you of the progress within the first few weeks.

Long shifts are something you’ve grown use to. So you chalked up your reaction to her voice as sleep deprivation. It was the only thing that made sense after just finishing a long surgery on a child not much older than your own, your own emotions wearing on you. Parents weekend allowed you to put a face to the voice… well you were fucked. And not in the way you wanted to be. Her voice was just as angelic as the first time, and her whole self? Stunning. You couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful woman. If she taught you then you were sure you’d be failing her class due to being so star struck by her. It was only when your beautifully insightful child informed you that your emotions were “weirding them out” and to stop staring at the woman like she was your next meal that you realised. You definitely have a problem. With a muttered apology you attempted to hide your wandering eyes more.

The second she started to approach you and your child you assumed you’d died and gone to heaven. No way had a beautiful woman choose to speak to a workaholic surgeon with a teen child. What was the appeal? You didn’t have much time to wonder about it, soon enough you were engaged in conversation with the woman. Blushing as she complimented what a lovely child you had raised, a true blessing to Nevermore.

It’s a bad habit, but you tend to take work home with you. Something your own child found frustrating was how you would immediately start to ramble about work and how your day had been. Obviously confidentiality had to be kept thanks to HIPPA yet still somehow you never ran out of things to say about such a rewarding job. “Mom” you groaned unhappily at the choice of topic. You missed her. But still work talk was never fascinating to you. Embarrassment at the fact your own principal was being subjected to all the medical jargon you threw her way, all while your eyes wandering over her frame. “Mommmm” you whined again nudging her while signing, “you’re doing it again mama.”

Larissa Weems was fascinated. The words just rolled off your tongue with an ease that she couldn’t help but admire. Truthfully, she’d used her contacts to find out about you the moment you enrolled your child, the name ringing familiar in her ears. Hearing the way you spoke so passionately about your work and the intricacies of the heart her suspicions were supported even more. You had done her surgery a few years ago after the dreaded nightshade poisoning had almost killed her. Memories of waking up and being told they had to get the best of the best to complete her surgery yet a brand new surgeon to the professional spotted the damaged and effectively saved the shifters life. Stuck in your on going rant of information, you seemed oblivious as the connection dawned on her.

“I see the immediate and life-changing results of your work, but my role is demanding yet completely worth it. It’s more than just cutting into people. I meet with patients and their families to discuss and explain procedures and offer reassurance. It’s massively important to be crystal clear, empathetic and warm is vital for success in my line of work. As well as performing surgery, I am involved in the treatment and management of many different conditions within this speciality. I may need to attend outpatient clinics, multidisciplinary team meetings and ward rounds.” You rambled on about what you knew best and before you knew it the other woman was so overcome by emotions that she tugged you close to her by your curvy hips and crashed her lips to yours.

The rest of your words died on your tongue as you processed what was happening before moving to place your hands on her shoulders, savouring the kiss before pulling away slightly flushed and confused. “Larissa, I “ you muttered dumbly, “what a way to shut a girl up.” Gazing into her cyan blue eyes it suddenly hit you. This is the woman who practically caused your career to fly. That fateful night where you made one observation in hopes to save a life was now coming back to you in violent flashes. “Larissa as in shifter who was on my OR table a few years ago? That Larissa?” Causing your child to sigh, everything relates to work, and well the emotions coming off you both were truly too much so you did what you could do best, slip away and allow the women to catch up while you tried to convince yourself and friendship group that your mother most definitely hasn’t kissed your principal.

Word count ~ 1016

[kalinara]

(X-Men #14, Fall of the House of X #1, X-Men #1 - 2024)

So one of the things that I've been wanting to blog about since I went back to my origins to be a full on Cyclops-centered comics blog again, is how delightful (and maybe a bit delightfully dysfunctional) I find the modern Jean Grey and Scott Summers relationship.

You probably have an idea of where this is going already, given the number of top/bottom jokes I've made about the two. (Technically they're probably domme/sub jokes, but it's funnier to use the other terms. Also, I'm pretty sure they engage in telekinetic pegging.)

So I'm putting it behind a cut, because it's long and rambly, and with additional scans. But nothing in it should be a surprise.

Anyway it really is genuinely fascinating to me.

First of all, I'm very happy with the modern, and I think ORIGINAL, interpretation of the Jean Grey - Phoenix relationship, where the Phoenix is, always has been, and always will be, a part of Jean Grey herself. I always thought the possession/replacement story was unnecessary, and it's far more interesting to look at it as Jean all along.

But more importantly, given my focus, is that I'm delighted at how this has shaken out into this absolutely fascinating Goddess-Mortal dynamic between these two characters.

I chose the panels that I did for this post, because I feel like they really illustrate Scott's side of their relationship dynamic. You have poor Jean, who fears her power and what she might do, and constantly tries to atone for the damage she'd done in the past when she'd lost control of herself* (and I want to get back to the Dark Phoenix Saga, in a bit). And then you have Scott, whose reaction to the fact that his wife is maybe the most powerful being in the universe appears to be "my wife can beat up the entire universe, and it is fucking awesome!"

I mean look at these panels. The first one is from Judgment Day, a story that could prompt so much meta in its own right. We've seen how the Progenitor works at this point - he judges the vast majority of people and finds them wanting. A lot of times the root of his judgment seems to be based either on the character's own guilt and sense of failure (see e.g. Steve Rogers and Matt Murdock), or their complete apathy and disinterest in improvement (see: Charles Xavier). Scott seems like a sitting duck for the first kind of judgment: he IS prone to self-hatred and is haunted by his bad decisions and mistakes.

But he does something unexpected: he denies that the Progenitor has any right to judge him at al. He's willingly given that authority to only one person. And she's not here right now. And he PASSES.

Sadly, the Progenitor does end up throwing this back onto Jean during HER test:

(A.X.E. - X-Men #1)

Sadly, Scott's dead right now and not really able to clarify. But we as readers can go back and look at that top panel. That is not a man who is petrified of his wife. He may well sleep in the lair of the red dragon, but he LIKES it that way.

Basically, Scott Summers passed his Judgment Day test for being a massive submissive. And I love that.

And we see the "only my wife can judge me/would you like to meet her" thing again when Scott's on trial in Fall of the House of X.

And it's fascinating in context, because only a few issues before, he and Jean were on the outs, and she basically DOES judge him:

(It's probably wrong how hot I find it when she holds back his powers like that. It's like power-bondage or something.)

Anyway, this is from X-Men #23. In two issues, he'll be captured. She'll be DEAD. And everything goes straight to Hell. And yeah, they've implicitly resolved their issues before hand (since he's agreeing to leave the X-Men with her in Hellfire Gala), but it's still very sudden.

But in that panel, up there, he has no doubts at all. They were on the outs. She's dead. He's been tortured. And still, facing a kangaroo court, he's completely unwavering in his faith in her.

It's lovely.

Sentimentality aside, the key takeaway here is that he's not afraid of her. Even now, when she's fully integrated her power and is up in space re-igniting stars, he's not afraid of her. I'm actually not sure if he was even afraid of her in the Dark Phoenix Saga. Afraid FOR her, yes. And he certainly recognized when she lost it and tried to talk her down (and seemed to be succeeding, until Xavier interrupted!).

We do see, at one single point, Scott express any kind of feeling of inferiority to Jean. And that's in that truly delightful From the Ashes, Infinity storyline where, when she's freeing him from telepathic captivity, he shows her the hidden files in his mind - how he'd fantasized about them growing old together, and how he knows that won't happen now.

(I love the infinity comics, but it's so hard to blog with them, you know?)

But yeah, Scott's one point of vulnerability with regard to the inequality in their relationship has nothing to do with power. He just doesn't want to be forgotten.

So anyway, I included the last scan because, vulnerable issues aside, overall, he really does seem to enjoy the fact that his wife is the more powerful cavalry, who'll happily come to save and/or avenge him and is very happy to use that against anyone he wants.

It's cute and even a little childish in a fascinating way. "My dad can beat up your dad." Only it's wife, instead of dad.

(Look, I've already done the meta about Scott Summers dating people who parallel his many abusive father figures. The fact that both Emma Frost and Jack Winters have unbreakable diamond alternate forms ALONE...well...)

But we are talking about a man who hadn't really been a child since the day his parents' plane crashed, who bounced from abusive situation to abusive situation, without any hope of rescue (even from the father who was STILL ALIVE in space somewhere). It must be an incredibly heady feeling to be able to say, "YES, my wife is bigger than you and will ALWAYS come to save me."

It might be a bit of a gender subversion on the whole historical romance novel premise of the abused servant girl getting to run off with the warlord who would kill everyone who looked at her wrong.

(I also suspect there's an element of "Okay, fuck it. Everyone's blamed me for everything for so long, including me, that I'm just going to bend over and let HER punish me. And that's IT.")

As for what Jean gets out of the deal, well, she's got someone who will never be afraid of her, who admires every time she lets loose with her power, and thinks she's beautiful and amazing, and helps keep her connected with her past, her self and humanity, not by trying to rein her in, but by providing her with basic human comforts (like an unnecessary space ship), simply to make her happy.

Let's just hope that nothing ever happens to him. Because, well, as I've said before, the thing that most adaptations miss about the Dark Phoenix Saga, is that it's never been about a woman being too powerful for anyone's good. It's about a woman who gets repeatedly gaslit, manipulated, mentally fucked around with, who then watches the man she love get hurt and (apparently) die without being able to do anything about it.

...well, I'm a whump fan who likes seeing powerful ladies wreak havoc to rescue hurt and vulnerable men. So I know what I would like to see happen...

[coffee-in-rain]

Vulnerable Hannibal in any form is my bread and butter. But traumatized Hannibal is my precious little pumpkin and I can never cease to ramble and theorize about how that would impact Will and Hannibal's relationship. I think it would be monumental if Hannibal wasn't even able to make it to the gates of the Lecter estate at all during a post-fall visit to Lithuania.

Imagine all the trauma that the simple act of walking through those woods would unearth for Hannibal. How it would revive his fear of succumbing to the elements.

My headcanon is Hannibal was in fact traumatized by everything he went through as a child. He just lives in denial and repression until it's brought to the forefront of his mind while in a situation he can't escape. I know it might seem ooc to many people, but Hannibal losing composure is my fave thing ever; epecially when it's in relation to his childhood trauma.

Will takes Hannibal to Lithuania. Before the next step of their relationship can develop any further, Will wants to learn every part of Hannibal. Both past and present. He's aware of Hannibal's persisting reluctance on the matter. He's aware Hannibal is doing this for him; but also for himself.

Hannibal's words have dwindled into monosyllabic responses the moment they stepped foot in Lithuania. It's late spring; so the weather shouldn't be a problem. He knows. It's only the slightest bit chilly; a bite laced in the wind that seeps into his bones and leaves his mouth and throat dry; parched with apprehension. He's one step behind Will. Two Steps. Three steps. Four...

Will's heart plummets the moment he turns around to glance at Hannibal. He's been periodically checking in throughout their journey toward the estate. Not rushing Hannibal along is imperative.

This isn't at all how Will envisioned it would turn out: Hannibal frozen in place, both eyes clenched shut against an onslaught of unspeakable memories, arms wrapped around his own torso in the form of a subconscious, self-soothing hug, while one hand creeps higher and higher towards his throat. He's sucking in shallow, whistling breaths and clawing at his neck with trembling fingers; skin itching and tingling from the phantom sensation of a chain-link collar he remembers all too well.

Will calls out his name, soft and cautious, because Hannibal is somewhere else entirely. Lost inside his mind. Will's hand clutches and stills Hannibal's frantic moving fingertips; the pressure gentle yet insistent. "Stop that," is what Will intends to say, but Hannibal's reaction leaves him speechless.

Hannibal flinches, releasing a frail, tearful whimper (the closest sound to a sob Will's ever heard Hannibal utter), and soon enough there's a visible wet patch staining the front of his pants. Will pulls Hannibal into an embrace, uncaring of the putrid stench of urine.

Imagine poor Will being blindsided by it all. Especially the act of Hannibal soiling himself in response to his re-emerging PTSD. Imagine if Hannibal clung to Will with the desperation of a scared child, head tucked underneath Will's chin so he wouldn't have to catch a glimpse of the woods that have haunted his dreams since he was eight years old. Imagine if he could only muster a rasped whisper of one word ("home" in his native tongue), begging for Will to take him far away from here.

Imagine if this moment was the first time Will ever used a term of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, or baby) in reference to Hannibal + the first time Will pressed a grounding kiss into Hannibal's hair + the first time Hannibal experienced any semblance of Will's affection post-fall.

[itstimetojellyfish]

Imperfections? No, they’re perfect .( Argenti x reader)

Yooo, I haven’t done a double fix in one day for some time .

It’s been a week since someone commented on your body figure and the scars among your arms , you were lucky to survive the abundance war .

You weren’t a local , but you still enlisted because you wanted to help , what idiotic actions ….

When you came back from your expedition, you were in one piece , but you felt like you were in two because your soul and your body were not coordinated.

At times you seemed lost and others too alert, whipping your head around at the slightest sound or movements.

It was a wonder that you got over the worst of your trauma and continued, but you never expected a male , never less a handsome one, to love you now .

However , it took a lot of coaxing from him to feel confident and comfortable in your own skin with all the scars along your body .

So when a child and women commented on them , your self esteem plummeted and you hid yourself in your house from the remainder of the week , texting Argenti to come over before you start hyperventilating.

You stayed bundled up in the duvets covers before you poked your head out because you heard the door creak open .

You slipped out the covers before timidly opening the bedroom door and peeking out, when you did you were met with the knights fist about to knock on the door .

You stared at Argenti’s hand before looking up to see his face , his eyes soften when he sees your eyes water , opening the door wider and then closing the door when he’s inside the bedroom.

Soon , you’re in bed with him cradling your figure as if your porcelain. His armor is off and neatly placed on a stand you got for him . His lacy white shirt and brown trousers felt soft against your skin .

He whispers sweet nothings to you , reassuring you that your perfect and the scars you have are proof of how strong you are .

He knows what happened , and how people seem to judge you for it , he also knows how sensitive you are to noises and stares thanks to your training .

He continues to soothe your nerves and you continue to ramble on and on how insecure you are and how utterly pathetic you look .

He just reassures you how lovely you are and kisses the so called imperfections. To him , they’re nothing less then beautiful marks .

Soon your eyes begin to tire , and you start to go limp , he smiles and then kisses your forehead leading you to a dreamless sleep where nothing can touch you .

Except Argenti .

He’ll keep you safe and warm and he’ll always be by your side and love you until time forbids him . He won’t ever leave you .

He stares at your sleeping figure and then pulls the covers over both of you , luring you into an even deeper sleep .

He looks at you for a little longer before supping your cheek and putting his forehead against yours , mumbling.

“ My dear rose…. Oh how I love you”