#It was interesting to make his condition more 'explainable' than to make it literally magical.

[lepurcinus]

I'm not into making fanfics or fan content in general. But sometimes I see so much potential to explore in the worlds of things I follow that it really frustrates me to see so little fan content that I want to explore it (Or maybe there is and I just don't know because it actually bores me a bit to look at that).

I kind of don't know, most WD Fanfics I know are based on the TV series and prefer to immediately go for the "more magical and fictional" side of the series instead of well exploring what the world of WD has to offer. Because there is material to play with the burrows, rabbit folklore, even with other animals like to go again for the ninth clone of Fiver who can't control his powers or something strange like that.

Meh just a vent.

[nereidprinc3ss]

trolley problem

in which fem!reader has been gambling with her life and spencer reid is more than a little concerned

flangst, hurt/comfort warnings/tags: passive suicidal ideation from reader, she keeps risking her life, that really grinds Spencer’s gears, established relationship, existential dread, existential euphoria, lots of stuff about grief and death and self worth, not advocating for this, pretension from the author, blasphemy probably?, reader gets fuzzy from prescribed painkillers, arguing, hospital stuff, mention of sleep paralysis involving spiders, reader gets shot but she’s fineee, I pander to intro to philosophy takers, bau!reader, neurodivergent coded reader, if she’s not exactly like you I’m sorry, bean soup a/n: one day you’re in a writing slump literally the next you are in your notes app for six hours writing whatever the fuck this is but I think I love it even tho it’s weird and I hope u like it too!! btw this was gonna be called cotard's syndrome but then I never once talk abt cotard's but if u care that might be interesting context for the motif of not feeling human/alive, WC 3K

Spencer hasn’t spoken to you since the doctor left the room five minutes ago. 

The air is antiseptic as you take it deep into the hollows of your lungs and trap it there for a moment, trying to optimize oxygen intake without actually having to breathe very often. Hospital smell is as universal as it is suffocating. It reeks of everything but death—flowers, blood, bleach, vomit. A humiliating, desperate scramble to defy the very thing that defines mortality. It’s pathetic. It reminds you of the worst instances of failure and loss and denial in your life. It curdles your blood. Literally rots you from the inside out. 

You’ve had ample time to ponder that smell over the last few months because you keep ending up here, and some time ago you decided the institution of the hospital is inherently absurd. It’s stupid to think you could avoid the one absolute condition on your corporeal form: impermanence. It is the only thing that is promised, and people still waste their lives away running from it. It is the ultimate self-fulfilling prophecy. 

So around the time you acknowledged that hospitals are simply monuments to the self-importance of man, you gave up on trying too hard to preserve yourself. You’ve seen death too much and too often. You’ve tried staving it off with prayer and the miracles of modern medicine, and it never matters in the end because it’s all magical thinking anyway. All the wallowing and the bargaining and pleading never got you anywhere. 

You’ve accepted that from the moment you were born, you were marked for death. 

But you’re not a complete nihilist. You’re not even totally resigned to the abject certainty of death—because you’ve found a loophole.

Everyone has as many chances at escaping death as other people are willing to offer them at the cost of their own lives. Not many people are willing to make that trade—someone else’s life for their own—but you’ve decided you are. Because if not you, then who?

It’s not that you don’t see the value in your own life, as Spencer keeps making it sound. It’s just the opposite. You understand that you’ve got an extremely valuable resource, and you don’t just have to sit on it. There are things you can do. Choices you can make. Ways to defy death. 

Just… not yours. 

Or maybe you’re just in deep denial. 

Either way—this is a philosophy your boyfriend intentionally refuses to understand. He gets mad, or some kind of upset, every time you try to explain it. Usually he ends up leaving the room close to tears. You never feel good about it.

Right now he’s presumably trying to give you the silent treatment and not doing a very good job. 

“Stop holding your breath. Why are you—stop that.”

Spencer’s frowning, skin sallow and milk-blue under fluorescent lighting. Purple seeps from around his eyes like spilled wine on a white table cloth. Your stomach turns. 

“Sorry.”

He doesn’t tell you not to apologize. You don’t expect him to. 

“Why are you doing that? Does something hurt?”

Other than your entire bicep being on fire due to the 9 millimeter Luger it recently came into contact with?

“Not really. I just don’t like the smell of hospitals.”

At that, he gets stony again. Like, Medusa stony. You feel a tightening in your chest that has nothing to do with a lack of air. His arms are crossed. A silk lined blazer drapes over your lap, and you wonder if he’s cold in just that white button up. It’s translucent in this light, like onion skin, or maybe something less organic—the folds and wrinkles look like fabric, but lots of things look like something they aren’t. In the Pietá, Jesus lounges dead on his mother’s lap, his cheek pressed to her arm like either of them have warm flesh, and her skirts drape from her knees and fall to the ground in delicate folds just like Spencer’s jacket and looking at pictures of it you swear you could find comfort there too—but if you wanted to make space for yourself next to Jesus you’d have to do it with a chisel and mallet. You’re starting to think that’s what it’s going to take with Spencer, as well. 

“So stop walking into active gunfire. You’ll spend a lot less time here.”

Every deep sigh (of which there have been several) calcifies you further. Ironically, you never feel less alive than you do in a hospital. 

“I didn’t walk into active g—”

“I’m not debating it with you. It’s not a discussion.”

“So you’re just going to be pissed at me for the rest of forever? I mean, if it’s not a discussion—what are you gonna do? Break up with me?”

You feel yourself dripping poison in the well. Even as you say it. As his head tilts toward you slowly and intently from his spot against the wall, and his warning gaze is cold and unforgiving and weighs 3.35 tons.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Talk?”

“Don’t try and manipulate me by implying that there are no options between permissiveness and dumping you!”

“I’m not manipulating you. And I don’t need your permission to do anything.” 

The first part is an incredulous scoff as well as a blatant lie. You are manipulating him. Chisel and all. At least, you were trying to. It clearly doesn’t work very well. His jaw clenches.  

“Is this worth it to you? Fighting with me like we’re children solely so you don’t have to take accountability?”

“Accountability for what? I made a choice. I don’t regret it. You’re upset because I did my job.”

A beat. 

Silence always makes you feel the gravity of your words. 

“Do you believe that?”

His voice softens so much, so quickly, it splinters down the middle. 

You’ve never been known for your light touch. For someone who sees eviscerated bodies nearly every day, and prides herself on her evolved understanding of mortality, you often forget other people are not, in fact, impenetrable marble—they are flesh and blood and bone, and you’ve splattered yourself in the evidence of that. 

“What?” You murmur. You easily turn timid, when you’re afraid you’ve been too heavy-handed. Spencer’s seen you sob over the birds who hit the windowpane and never reappeared from the shrubbery—their delicate wings, their little beaks—he didn’t mean to, Spencer, and now he’s dead! He’s seen you spend forty minutes catching a spider with a cup and an envelope rather than smush it, even though you have reoccurring episodes of sleep paralysis wherein a giant arachnid is sitting on your chest, hissing and clacking its pincers. He knows you are, at your core, kind and good. 

It’s a little scary for someone to know that about you. It’s a little scary when you see your own vulnerability reflected in their eyes and the way they speak to you, the way you see it in him now. 

“Do you believe that the choices you make regarding your safety don’t concern me at all?”

“They’re… my choices to make,” you whisper, but you’re less sure than you were a minute ago. 

“I’m not talking about that—I’m talking about how it feels like you are trying to kill yourself every time we’re in the field.” His voice shakes. You swallow. “You have been hospitalized for four serious injuries sustained on the job in the past five months. Every time I bring it up, you—you talk about life like it’s optional for you. Like you’re not only willing to give it up but are actively looking to throw yourself in harm’s way every chance you get. You think that doesn’t terrify me?”

There’s a small chip in the paint on the wall next to him roughly the shape of Africa. 

“It’s not like that. I’m… I’m just having an unlucky streak.”

He snaps. 

“Luck isn’t going to get between you and a bullet. Ever.”

“It’s my job, Spencer.”

“No. It is a risk of the job. Not a defining feature or requirement. But you keep running toward gunfire like you have a quota to meet.”

“Spencer, I’m not doing it at you. I’m not trying to get myself hurt.”

“Well it doesn’t really feel like you’re trying to avoid it, either,” he shoots back immediately, and you feel the anguish radiating from him until it lodges in your own chest, like it was always yours. Maybe it was. 

You want to make it better, but you don’t know how, and even if you did, he’s pushing off the wall and crossing the room toward the door. 

“Where are you going?” You call, a little too desperately for your liking. 

“You need to eat something.”

Which translates roughly to he’s pissed and upset and he needs to leave the room. You’ve done this song and dance before. 

However, food and an absence of him are contenders for the absolute last two things you want right now. 

“Spencer, please don’t—”

But the door is already whooshing closed. 

You stare at the grey and white checkered floor. Light bounces off the waxen reflection—some sort of parallel universe you can’t reach, perhaps. The whole room is desaturated. A mechanical humming threatens to drive you insane. It doesn’t feel like a place for living humans. You’re not convinced you are one. 

When he comes back, maybe ten minutes later, nothing’s moved at all. In fact you’re not even sure you’ve been breathing. 

The door closes as quietly as it opens. 

This time, wordlessly, Spencer comes to you. You see his shoes first—his serious adult shoes. You wish he was wearing his Converse. 

Then you see the bottle of apple juice he’s cracking open for you. Blue lid. Same kind you always get. 

“You didn’t bring food.”

“You wouldn’t have eaten it.”

Fair enough. 

You take the bottle with your good arm and sip shallowly—all that adrenaline and the subsequent interpersonal strife has left you nauseous. The drink is too sweet. It clashes with the tang of metal in your mouth. 

Still, you drink enough to satisfy him, and then you’re tossing his jacket aside before balancing the bottle between your thighs so you can screw the lid back on. He doesn’t go back to the couch or his spot on the wall. 

Spencer doesn’t pull away when you lean into him, but it does take him a moment to reciprocate. You’re still grateful all the same when he cradles the back of your head to his stomach like you’re made of porcelain. 

“I don’t think you understand how upset I am,” he says quietly. 

Only Spencer Reid could be furious with you and still hold you like this. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. 

“That’s not good enough. You need to stop risking your life like that.”

He doesn’t get it. Your brows flutter as they try to furrow but even holding that expression saps you. Maybe the pain meds are finally kicking in. 

“I just wanna help people.”

“That doesn’t explain to me or justify your urge to do it at the cost of your own life. We all want to help people, angel. The whole team. That’s why we do what we do. But we don’t run into shootouts. We don’t split off and provoke people with guns when we’re unarmed and unprepared.”

“But it worked. She got away.” You feel a spark of fulfillment at the memory of Gloria Sanchez in JJ’s arms just before the ambulance doors had slammed you into your first cage of the night. 

“We don’t know if he was going to kill her. He might not’ve fired at all if you didn’t go running toward him. That wasn’t strategic, it was reckless and irresponsible and you know that. I know you do. So something else is going on.”

The pressure in your nose that usually precipitates tears comes as a surprise. 

“I just—if that’s how I can save someone, why shouldn’t I, you know? Why do they have less of a right to live than I do just because they’ve been deprived of the choice? If I have a choice, and they don’t, I should choose to… to help them. That’s my job.”

For a long moment, you listen to your own breath, muffled by Spencer’s shirt, and the mechanical humming, and something dripping, and the low, buzzy chatter of nurses far down the hallway.

When Spencer next speaks you get the sense he’s holding a lot back. His voice is taut enough it wavers slightly. Taut enough that if he weren’t speaking so quietly he might be yelling. It’s like pinpricks all over your body—not enough to hurt, but enough to make sure you’re paying attention. 

“You can’t help anyone if you’re dead. Do you understand me?”

And yes, in theory, you do. But that doesn’t negate your original point. It only takes one life or death moment for you to utilize the most valuable resource you have. What happens after is no longer your concern. 

“On the psych evals you helped develop it asks if you think it’s appropriate to sacrifice the one to save the many. The answer is supposed to be no. If you say yes you get flagged. The FBI frowns upon… lever-pullers. And that’s exactly what I’m doing if I let one person die when I could’ve potentially saved them.”

“Protecting your own life is not pulling the lever. What you’re doing isn’t smart or morally righteous. You’re just throwing yourself across the tracks, too. If you were to fail a psych eval right now it would be because you’re passively suicidal. And you know what? The FBI also tends to frown upon self-immolative delusions of grandeur and girls who like to play sacrificial lamb.”

“’M not a… sacrificial lamb…”

“No,” Spencer agrees quietly, stroking your hair. “You’re not.”

And you can’t react to the fragility in his voice, or the content of his words, and the fact that when he says it he means something different—you can’t do anything about it. You can only catalogue it. You can only know that he loves you, and feel a little guilty about it.

Some time passes. You don’t know how long he remains standing so you can doze against him. He does not smell like the hospital. He’s the antidote for whatever grief they distill from widows and orphans before aerosolizing it through the whole place. 

“Baby?” He asks eventually. You know the lilt of it. He’s been thinking. 

“Hm?”

He hesitates. 

“Can we talk about you maybe taking some time off of work?”

“You heard the boss,” you mumble. “I can’t come in for at least a week.”

“I mean beyond that.”

You intend to respond, but by the time you open your mouth you’ve lost the prompt in all the brain fog. 

“You’re so comfy,” you murmur dreamily. “Thank you for being mad at me.”

If he responds, you miss it. 

You’re imagining the bed waiting for you at home, once the doctor is done observing you—warm, neatly made. Blankets woven with soft fibers. A mattress that will sink under your weight. You think of Spencer, who’s shaping himself to you, Spencer, who intentionally inhales when you exhale at night to make room for the rise and fall of your chest against his. You think of the imprint of his buttons on your cheek. You are both flesh and blood and bone. 

Strange, pill-induced half dreams and visions and memories take over. You’re in that alleyway again. That man fires. You don’t blink or scream or feel. 

Just before the bullet makes contact you’re standing in front of the Pietá. It’s massive. Spencer is there, too, holding your hand. 

You can’t actually see him, only, you know he’s there. You feel his warmth, his presence, when he leans over to whisper in your ear. The way you know him goes beyond sight. 

The Pietá—meaning the pity, in English—is 6’7” and six feet wide. It weighs 6,700 pounds. Michelangelo had to quarry the block of marble himself. He was only 25 when he finished. The Basilica keeps it behind bulletproof glass. 

Jesus and Mary behind bullet proof glass. 

God. Who’d try to kill Jesus a third time? He’s already dead. 

Besides—they’re both made of stone. Bullets would probably just ping right off of them. Or maybe they’d shatter just like you did. 

Probably not though. You’re not actually made of marble. You’ve no idea what it feels like to be a statue and get shot at. You sure know how it feels as a human, though—and it feels like shit. You don’t really know why you keep doing it. None of your reasons are good enough for Spencer, and he’s, generally speaking, pretty smart about some things. 

Maybe you’re tired of being human.

Maybe you’re tired of sleeping on your arm funny and waking up to a hand in your bed that doesn’t feel like yours and remembering all the hands you’ve held moments before they couldn’t hold yours back. Or tired of those moments where you are being held and it’s so unbelievably perfect and then someone has to let go, or when someone you love hugs you goodbye and you realize that there will always be a final I love you, or simply getting older and watching potential life paths fall away like rotten fruit to the ground. Maybe life is sometimes so good it hurts and you can’t bear it. So you tempt fate. You walk a tightrope because even if you fall and it can’t ever feel good again—at least it can’t hurt either. At least you won’t lose anymore. 

And yet. 

It does feel good, sometimes. Sort of often, actually. Even when it’s awful. 

Dead Jesus and Mary, with their marble skin and their bulletproof glass and their holiness and their virginity and all the other things they have that you don’t. Nobody can hurt them anymore. Not ever. 

Maybe that’s something you envy.

But you doubt they’ve ever been so terribly, wonderfully alive as you’ve been, or as comfortable as you are like this, leaning into Spencer’s warmth and his softness, in the hospital, or the Vatican, or your dreams. Your bicep was ruined but it’s healing. You are capable of ruin and rebirth in the same lifetime. In the same day, in the same hour. 

You doubt that in 520 years, behind bulletproof glass and unyielding, eternally flawless skin, they’ve ever felt as invincible as you do now. 

You doubt they ever could. 

[zelenbug]

Omg... I saw your speculative biology post about rayman creatures, i am so weak for those!

Do you have any more headcanons you could tell me about? Personally I'm most interested in the Teensies and flies (ahem, Murfy) but you can tell me about anyone you feel like. I'd see it as a win either way :D

If you want to offcourse!

surprised this wasnt as niche as i expected ! i dont really have much more to say that i havent mentioned in the post but this is giving me something to fink about so im happy to pull some more out of my brain

-

teensies have pupils in much the same way mice and rats etc do. its just that they have really dark colored irises so you cant see the pupils under most conditions. however some teensies are weird and have really light irises, as in these guys. the eyes are set up like the same otherwise

globteens case is explainable with how incredibly pale he is. he might just have some kind of leucism

-

also i concluded from rayman 3 that they have 2 toes on their feet and this is the closest visual approximation

-

something i also concluded from rayman 3 is that teensy heights vary a LOT. several are taller than rayman! explicitly! and i think it gave romeo permanent back problems hence his incredible posture (i have no idea why ottos posture is really weird but in like, the opposite way, why is he this upright)

most teensies still live up to their name, but some ethnic groups will tend to be noticeably taller, like sylkins tufkins nookins (especially nookins) etc. but they can all be randomly tall. i think this is a given for any species of anything but its kind of notable for the people literally named teensies, also just how much the heights seem to vary (this is obtained with raymap also, theyre not found on the same map but the heights are relative to rayman and should be accurate)

its funny sometimes my headcanons are just . descriptions of things that literally are canon. but like. you get me this is something that is remarkable in my hc lore

-

nose does has cartilage in it (gotta protect the magic organ thing somehow) but its still like. very squeezable. makes a honk through cartoon logic, hurts some people if honked though (Ales Mansay)

speaking of him. if the magic organ is broken, its still like. present it just doesnt function well. i have no idea what it actually looks like other than some kind of blob thing that takes up most of the schnozzle (with some space for like. the nasal cavity). the closest thing i could think of is. the melon on cetaceans. i dont know if itd be like that i just think it wouldnt be much like a brain??? its hard to imagine An Organ Dedicated Specifically To Synthesizing Magic.

ive been thinking about it but im not sure if other species have that too, just much smaller placed somewhere else on the head, just allowing them to use magic. i think i like it better if Everyone gets access to it regardless of having An Organ Dedicated Specifically To Synthesizing Magic

-

i doodled baby murfy once

greenbottle larvae dont tend to talk much, or do much other than eat rotted meat all day. you cant really socialize or play games with them or anything

they dont end up remembering how it was like to be a larva or a pupa. pupating would feel like going to bed for like a week and then you wake up suddenly having conciousness and wings. its around this time they get named too, larvae are treated almost like a weird pet that will suddenly turn into a person eventually

also like, imagine the adaptation period after emerging from the pupa. its like being a 13 year old and a newborn at the same time. they do adapt fairly quickly though, one whos 15 or even 14 (both ages equivalent, not glade years) can already seem pretty normal

also the actual hatchday, and the day they stop being a pupa, are treated as separate, so its like they get TWO free birthdays! unless the dates overlap

much of this Larva Information applies to the other bugs as well. they have larvae and then pupate and then emerge as actual concious beings

[sugarcanehoes]

god i need all of your tubscar ideas like. now

anon. anon i am so Normal about them i promise.

rpf tubscar especially makes me ghhhh bc their age gap is so sexy to me. and the fact that tubbo literally grew up watching scar is just... you know this man is head over heels for his favorite youtuber and would do Anything for him. scar could tell tubbo to hold a handstand for 5 hours and tubbo would do it, no questions asked, and then would sulk for not being able to do it properly bc he doesn't want to disappoint scar.

and the YEARNING. don't get me started on the yearning, these two are the textbook definition of slow burn. not only they have this difference in age, but they live far apart and have very different lifestyles, so they always think the other is not interested. tubbo doubts scar would have time for him, knows scar has so much to do, thinks he's too annoying to hang out with scar because of the constant cursing and repetition of words. and scar doesn't want to bother tubbo, sees tubbo constantly hanging out with friends, drinking, doing subathons, playing all sorts of games and just being a normal young adult and scar really doesn't want to disturb that. so they stay silent, gazing at each other's discord profile, hoping the other will magically send a dm inviting for a call later that day, maybe we can revisit our sky block world?

eventually someone has to take initiative and i guess one night tubbo just feels restless and mindlessly sends scar a message, not really waiting for an answer, hand hovering over the 'delete message' button just seconds before a new text pops up in chat. 'hey, tubbo! isn't it late there? why are you awake? :)'

and then eventually it turns into a habit, two restless and anxious men bonding over minecraft, space, twitch, content creation and everything else. tubbo shows scar a dj set he's preparing for a stream and scar acts as if he's not interested in tubbo's hands moving quickly; scar shows tubbo his minecraft test world and explains in detail every single build and tubbo acts as if he's not dangerously focused on how skillful and experient scar is at the game. it shouldn't be hot... but it is. and both of them always say their goodbyes and go lay on their beds with their heads full of thoughts they feel ashamed about - thoughts that more often than not lead them to sneak a hand past the waistband of their pants.

and when they meet up irl? all hell breaks loose. the thoughts that were so well contained in the deepest, darkest spaces of their brains suddenly spill out as they try to act normal near each other. scar, who likes to be independent and hates it when someone tries to "help him", is suddenly okay with tubbo pushing his wheelchair and getting him food and water when the event gets too crowded. tubbo, who famously hates physical contact, is suddenly okay with scar pulling him for a hug, ruffling his hair, pinching his cheeks while calling him kid.

and if tubbo ever gets drunk near scar, god, the post-drunk clarity would hit so hard because tubbo would spend the whole night whining to his friends that scar is so hot and that omg i can't, i literally can't, i have to sit on his lap, all the while his friends warn him that he's not really whispering as quietly as he thinks and that scar is definitely hearing him - and scar is also blushing a bit as he tries to ignore tubbo's comments about him, acts as if the slurred words don't get to him, curses his health conditions that force him to stay sober while trying to deal with this horny 20-year old clearly - and loudly - thirsting for him.

and when scar finally, finally breaks, after long hours of venting to a probably-very-high grian about how much he has to hold back near tubbo and grian slushes out an, "and why are you holding back? you're an adult, he's an adult, and there's clearly a lot of sexual tension. stop acting as if this is the first younger person you've ever hooked up with." (to which scar would groan and answer that "that was only once, ugh, why do you still remember that?"), scar finally tells tubbo to spend the night in his hotel room so they can have some alone time.

"are you sure your brother won't mind? where is he going to sleep?" "it's fine, toby, don't worry, he can stay in another room."

so tubbo sits down on scar's bed and scar wheels closer to him. they chat, and they're both nervous, but scar puts a hand on tubbo's knee and tubbo holds his breath, stopping mid-sentence to quiet down a moan. "i brought alcohol," he says. "you can drink a bit, but not too much," scar answers, and tubbo wobbles on his legs and tries to ignore the unsaid yes, daddy burning on the back of his throat.

tubbo reciprocates the touches, and he doesn't need much to finally make his dreams come true and climb on scar's lap. scar helps him get undressed, one kiss leading to another, and when tubbo sinks down on scar's cock, it's as if it all led to this moment.

tubbo is ecstatic. scar quickly gets breathless, but he lets tubbo indulge, telling him he's such a good boy and that you look so pretty, toby, to which tubbo only whines in response. tubbo comes first, crying out scar's name, but doesn't stop bouncing, too immersed in it to notice his legs burning and his cock struggling to keep up, until he comes again, shaking on scar's lap and hugging scar's neck, resting for only a minute before kneeling down on the floor and sucking scar until he gets his climax as well - and tubbo gets hard again, ruts against scar's leg, jerks off until he comes all over his fist, moaning as scar caresses his hair and shoots cum down his throat.

tubbo can't believe this is happening. it's too good, too fucking good, and he climbs back on scar's lap and stares at scar's face to try and convince himself that fuck, holy shit, i'm having sex with scar. scar smiles, rubbing circles on tubbo's hip, and tubbo is so horny, so needy, that even if his cock physically can't get hard again, he rides scar's thigh and sobs on scar's ear, hugging him close, intoxicated by scar's cologne, until scar gently pats his back and tells him, "it's okay, toby, you can stop now. there you go, good boy."

when they wake up next morning, limbs tangled and eyes hazy, tubbo fucks scar into the mattress, slowly, for good measure, as scar praises him and kisses his face. "tell me, kid, for how long have you wanted this?" "oh, you don't- you don't even know, scar. for- for so long, fuck-"

it becomes a constant. when they're apart, they turn on their cameras on discord to release some stress; when they're together, they spend most of the time either having sex or cuddling and chatting after sex. tubbo's friends mock him for being a daddy's boy. grian doesn't say anything, but he always has a smug smirk on his face when he catches scar and tubbo interacting in public, always touching each other somehow.

tl;dr: mutual pining leads to age gap daddy undertones 'they were both bottoms' needy whiny sex. everyone except their neighbours is happy.

uh. you probably intended this as a 'sexy headcanons' thing but i got SO CARRIED AWAY holy shit 🧍

i also have thoughts of c!tubscar and other headcanons but this is GIGANTIC already so i'll leave it to another time.

thank you for indulging me in my little tubscar brainrot era <3

[thegeminisage]

tng update time. a day or more ??? ago i watched "the outrageous okona" in several bits and pieces, and then last night i caught "loud as a whisper."

the outrageous okona: this one is...fine? i think it seems better than it actually was due to being in the first two seasons in tng

i liked okona and i really liked the plot twist about him not actually doing any crimes whatsoever but instead playing messenger boy for his buds. that part was good. appearances deceiving etc, and he pulled a very clever stunt to get them to admit the truth. unfortunately by the time i started liking him the episode was over. so.

did NOT like the "data can't be funny" plot...like, he did define a joke in an earlier episode, and it frustrated me that he seemed to have forgotten the definition and NO ONE would explain it to him. they just kept going "you gotta feel it bro"

personally, i think if data was told the definition of a joke, and had the concept of comedic timing also explained to him, he could master the art of TELLING jokes, even if he himself never felt or even understood the urge to laugh. it's just ai learning. i guess in 87 they just hadn't conceived of it.

i did like the part where guinan was like just bc you cant laugh or make other people laugh doesnt mean you're not human...it was kind of the narrative to want to be accepting of his differences...but at the same time the whole premise felt so terribly unfair to him it's not enough to save it

also, the jerry lewis moment has uh...aged. a lot of those jokes aged

speaking of data, he had several good ace moments in this episode. "sexual attraction is not a part of my programming" and "i don't believe it's true that the act and emotion of love are the same thing" etc etc. i don't know if i believe in ace data because again you cannot be making the robots ace but i do deeply respect people who do and i'm happy for them that this was in this episode. if stuff like this keeps happening you could win me over maybe. MAYBE.

loud as a whisper: WWWWOW 10/10 EPISODE.......a rare win for early seasons tng......

first of all, that one guy speaking through those other people was COOL. like at first it was a bit creepy, are they his thralls or what, are they ok, why does he keep flirting with deanna in the workplace, but after it was explained that they were interpreters and after riva got angry that picard spoke to them instead of him it was like. YES. this is the shit. his interactions with deanna became a lot less skeevy once you realize his interest is genuine and benign and he's not some megalomaniac psychic nutjob

his conversation with geordi...like yes it's a little on the nose to be like "my disability is part of me and i like who i am so i like my disability" but this was 87. some people hadn't gotten it yet. i mean hell a lot of people still haven't yk

offering geordi a cure out of nowhere when they previously said it was impossible is wack BUT I DID REALLY LIKE that even though geordi's condition causes him chronic pain he still didn't leap at the chance to have his sight restored. like that's his way of existing and being alive and nobody would choose to change it on a dime unless it was causing them nothing but abject misery...like it's such a nice way to communicate that geordi values the different way in which he sees the world

not to be like sooo personal on a fucking tng liveblog post and definitely not to be like "being blind is exactly the same as x" bc it's absolutely not but things like being ace or having adhd/a multitude of other mental illnesses have caused me so much FUCKING grief over the years but if someone came along and offered to magically fix me like...it's such a fundamental part of Who I Am and how i experience being alive that if i was fixed i might not be me anymore and you can SEE THAT like you can quite literally see the gears turning in geordi's head and it's so fucking good. i love geordi so much he's my best friend

today i still have to do "the schizoid man" and "unnatural selection" hopefully before 730pm where we will finally do "a matter of honor" and "the measure of a man" together. AUGH

[ineffabildaddy]

okay, i read this when i'd just woken up and i was in no condition to respond to it stark naked (yes i'm a naked sleeper, it's very freeing) and bleary-eyed. so here i am an hour later at my desk, having eaten something substantialish, giving the grammy-winning boygenius lp a celebratory spin on my turntable...

first of all, thank you for doing this. thank you, thank you, thank you. i know that the main thing is to explore queer sex in fic as a wider phenomenon (or phenomena as shadwell would say) and i am miles beyond honoured to have provided the source material for that here. you've made so many excellent points, said so many things i've understood but struggled to put into words, and further things i'd never concretely thought of before which i'll definitely be thinking about more going forward!!!

absolutely gorgeously written - the perfect balance of concise and detailed, of sophisticated and direct. you also flatter me and make my fic sound really quite a lot cooler than i tend to think it actually is, which is an added bonus

also - 3-4 hours?! the fact that you care enough about my work and me as a friend to spend that long on anything related to me literally brings tears to my eyes in the best way, truly, thank you. i literally had to stim and then stare into space for 10 minutes before reading when i saw this in my notifications. and then i spent the first time reading it literally squealing and kicking my feet, then the second and third time grinning like a maniac

some thoughts i had while reading:

"No cis-het man has ever thought about eating pussy that way, and if you find one I'll eat my fucking hat" this made me cackle, and also feel grateful for aziraphale's a. intense faggotry and b. his undeniable oral fixation

interestingly, i'm at a point where i rarely find myself using the word 'cock'. i actually use 'dick' 90% of the time purely because i personally find it hotter and more gender-affirming in my own head. in comparing the words 'dick' and 'cunt', 'cunt' definitely sounds harsher on the tongue which is super interesting, bearing in mind what you've explained above

framing descriptions of genitals around my own transmasculine language preferences has been incredibly affirming for me and i'm very grateful that it's received positively

where can i read ur paper on monsterfucking???

thank you for focusing on strawberry scripture so much because i worked really hard on it and i'm proud of it. of all my fics (excluding poems/ficlets), it's the one with the least engagement - which is fine! i only mean that that fact makes it particularly nice to see someone so interested in what it has to say hehehe

"We also slide gently into Monsterfucker territory in "Close (well you couldn't get much closer)" (M/M), where an argument could be made that the most trans-coded element isn't even Crowley's T-dick but instead the presence of a magic angel dildo. (sentences I never thought I'd fucking say but here we are.) There's something deeply transgender about the deconstruction of genital purpose in sex that recontextualizes the gendered body's role in pleasure." i'd love to hear you talk a little more about this, if you're interested? and anything else that you may want to further talk about tbf

i actually have this persistent preoccupation with the way i write porn, in that i worry i don't describe the visceral sensations that accompany penetration, oral, or whatever it is in enough detail. i tend to focus more on what else is happening - as you've said - while trying to establish why the penetration in question feels good, how two people are fucking. i've often seen this as a creative failing and so your words here are a major comfort to me!!!

also, i spent yesterday evening preparing to finally start writing a 'swap' fic where demon!az gets to play with demon!crowley for a day and angel!az gets to fuck angel!crowley at the same time. i spent this prep time worrying that i wouldn't be able to do justice to the concept (read: worrying that i wouldn't be able to make it as hot on paper as it is in my mind). this labour of love has reassured me that i can do it, because the stuff i've written so far has clearly been so well-understood and so greatly appreciated. i'm just in absolute shock about it all, still

i'll be linking back to this piece in my masterlist post. i don't know how i lived without it before it existed and i'll be reading it every day henceforth. i spend most of my free time writing fic and thinking about fic and talking about fic and i'm impossibly happy to get confirmation like this that other people are getting plenty of use out of it and having fun with it

again, thank you thank you thank you!!!!!!!!!!! i love you

Deeply Transgender and Vividly Pornographic: a deep dive into what makes a fic queer

This is a response to the wonderful @ineffabildaddy making this post, which it was originally going to just be a reblog to but once I started approaching a thousand words it was a bit unwieldy so we're just going all the way. If second base is reading their fics and third base is actually talking to your mutuals, I have no clue what this is.

Here's the prompt text that started it all:

Alright, well I am nothing if not a scientist (narrator voice: they were, in fact, a humanities major), so I spent several hours of my weekend putting this together because I'm a burnt out academic and this is the enrichment in my enclosure. Readers, this is going to contain experpts of some very spicy stuff, so stop here if you're not interested. Me bringing porn? To your tumblr dash? It's more likely than you think.

All fics and such referenced will be linked at the bottom of the page.

~~~

Heteronormativity and cisnormativity, while unfortunately the dominant norm for mainstream pornography, make little appearance within the fandom writing spaces I myself spend time in. That's not to say I haven't read my fair shair of painfully straight smut in my lifetime, but simply that I have taste and am lucky to be neck deep in a fandom with very little of it. Nonetheless, as a card-carrying queer and writer myself, I consider myself quite familiar with the distinctive traits and patterns of queer and cishet pornographic writing. Beyond merely a focus on non-male pleasure or the subtle presence of queer or trans characters, the characterization of queer fanfiction is distinct and has entirely different mannerisms in dealing with conceptions of the body and pleasure. I'll primarily be citing Ineffabildaddy's work, for the sake of a focused analysis, who I will henceforth be referring to as Sam for the sake of pseudo-academic flow.

There are certain linguistic patterns that tend to distinguish heterosexual and heteronormative depictions of sex from queer ones. For instance, "cunt" is utilized sparingly within heteronormative contexts for its vulgarity and added obscenity, whilst queer writers use it pretty universally and without the same subtext. Throughout his writing, Sam works with this queer-coded vocabulary pretty consistently. In "Strawberry Scripture" (F/M), he describes how "Crowley's cunt... was damn-near swollen" and how Aziraphale has to resist "Bury[ing] his face in it immediately." No cis-het man has ever thought about eating pussy that way, and if you find one I'll eat my fucking hat. Likewise, vocabulary for the phallic tends to veer in the direction of "cock" over anything else. Interestingly, this creates a set of contrasting pairings. Heteronormative slang, from my obvervation, is more likely to use 'dick' and 'pussy', and, especially in conjunction, it creates a very distinctive mouthfeel that separates the two and poses them as opposites. 'Pussy', in particular, has a much more feminized feel when juxtaposed against 'dick', favoring much softer consonants and the english diminutive 'y' ending. 'Cock' and 'cunt', in comparison, have a very similar sound and feeling to them, distancing itself from hetero-cis-normative gender dualism of the language. There is, of course, plenty of nuance to this and the use of a variety of language in subverting cisnormative ideas about the sexed body as well, with phrases like 'boypussy' and 'girldick' being rather essential to the way many trans people describe their own bodies. "Fandom's Pornagraphic Subset," (yes I'm stealing sources from my research paper on monsterfucking, suck my dick) an article published in 2021 by Silja Kukka, describes how the "fleshy, hyperbolic descriptions of sex" that characterize this kind of writing are essential to what she dubs the "[creation of] a new genderqueer place outside of the gender dichotomy"(57). If you read enough smut, you know exactly what this is talking about. For example, in "Despite Knowing Better,"(F/M) we get vivid imagery to describe the way "streaks of her spit oozed from her mouth even as Aziraphale fucked it"(Ch5) and of "her walls quivering and clenching around him."(Ch3) This level of graphic sexual depiction goes beyond what would be considered 'tasteful' or 'sexy' in a heteronormative concept of pornography.

In terms of tropes, let's do a deep dive into "Strawberry Scripture"(F/M) to find what makes it queer beyond it's apparently straight pairing. To preface, this fic involves both foodplay and monsterfucking, but we're only gonna analyze one. The inherent queerness of monsterfucking is actually something I've written an entire academic paper on, so I suppose I'll start there. There's something very queer and often very trans about subverting the standard playbook of sexual acts, and while kink itself can easily be heterosexual, most monsterfucking falls far outside that category no matter what genital configuration those involved have. Monsterfucking tends to reject the phallocentrism of heteronormativity and mainstream kink by subverting the concept of the human body itself, giving inhuman and monstrous qualities to characters usually for sex appeal or general kinky shenanigans. While there's an argument to be made for heteronormativity still being able to creep into certain spaces, that certainly isn't true for this fic. There's something intrinsically transgressive about creating an erogenous zone out of a feature that would largely be considered horror or 'gross' in any other form of media, which is exactly what Sam does here as he describes the "cool, satiny sensation that the plates of her scales against his tip engendered." The scales are not merely called apon for their invocation of the unusual but to give them an eroticism in and of themselves, with Crowley reaching orgasm through their stimulation. We also slide gently into Monsterfucker territory in "Close (well you couldn't get much closer)" (M/M), where an argument could be made that the most trans-coded element isn't even Crowley's T-dick but instead the presence of a magic angel dildo. (sentences I never thought I'd fucking say but here we are.) There's something deeply transgender about the deconstruction of genital purpose in sex that recontextualizes the gendered body's role in pleasure. It falls into the same semiotic revolution and reclaiming of the body as the changes in language used by trans folks to rename and reidentify the literal physicality of the body by ones own standards (ie T-dick).

Another major trademark in departing from heteronormatized porn is the shift in narrative focus away from penetrative sex. That is, even in paragraphs where the main sex event is penetration, it rarely takes up even half the prose. The majority of narration is focused on surrounding or tangential actions: "the flowing movement of ... hips was sedate and wanton and lusciously provocative,"(1) "watching the muscles which resided there tense and relax alternately with pleasure,"(2) "his tongue stole past his teeth and slid over them,"(3) and "he whispered, his voice aching and curling and stretching for her"(4); all excerpts pulled from moments in which penetration is taking place, yet the concentration is anywhere but. Likewise, the act of penetration itself only takes up a small portion of physical sex acts in the grander scheme of Sam's writing. Instead, we as readers are presented with a vast spread of cock-sucking, pussy-eating, fingering, teasing, frottage, kissing, and more. Contrast this with the cis-hetero norm, where penetrative sex is the endgoal, and any other action is shucked aside to play second fiddle as mere foreplay. It's the reason virginity as a concept is directly tied to the mystical hymen and one's experience with penetration; a straight girl can suck dick a thousand times and still consider herself a virgin. As such, in a piece of pornographic writing where I have significant trouble finding lines to pull specifically and exclusively describing penetration (seriously, try it out yourself), the heterosexual influence is negligible. And yes, I'm talking about all of them. I had to restructure an entire argument that focused on comparing lines from different works because it was so difficult to find them.

So, in conclusion, Sam, love, there is not an ounce of heteronormativity in even the "straightest" of your writing. Congratulations.

Links, in order of reference:

Strawberry Scripture (3)

Fandom's Pornographic Subset, article by Silja Kukka and a great read

Despite Knowing Better... (4)

Close (you couldn't be much closer)

Many Different Ways to Eat an Oyster (1)

I'm Beginning to See the Light (2)

Author's notes, and then I promise I'll leave y'all alone: Hi! This started as a short analysis but quickly became a three(?)(maybe more?) hour labor of love analyzing the things I love most about both Sam's writing and the writing in this community as a whole. Please please please ask me questions, I'm an autistic little bitch and I like knowing things. My ask box? Open. Comments? Open. Reblogs? Open. If you've read this far, I fucking love you and I am kissing you on the mouth right now. Don't worry, my gender is just queer so it's gay no matter what. <3<3<3

[mymainwastoocluttered]

Is it just me or does some of the Jamil fanfics on this site make his signature spell a little too overpowered?

Like canonically there are limits to what his spell can do. And I assume it is very much like Jafar's limits.

Even though Jafar could easily manipulate the sultan, the guy was able to snap to his senses a few times on his own or with a trigger. (During book 4, Kalim does the same)

Iirc, when Jafar tries to order the sultan to forced Jasmine to marry him, I think he snapped out of it long enough to make a comment that Jafar is old. Or when he asks the sultan for the diamond ring. The sultan snaps out of it for a moment before Jafar insists that he needs it.

So my belief is that jamil's signature spell fails when he tries to force people to do actions that go against their beliefs (?)

Sorry for rambling, I'm very tired. Have a wonderful day/night

Jamil's power is... Not very well explained.

Like, "mind control" is a trope with such a wide range of possibilities. Like, how far does that control go? How much can be done with it? How long does it last? What are the conditions for it?

Jade technically also uses mind control when he activates Shock the Heart, but his mind control is very specific (makes people tell the truth) and has a very clear limit (it only works the first time ever). Moreover, if the power conflicts with the person's own principles (Kalim's extreme loyalty to Jamil), it won't work properly.

What I gathered from Jamil's power, is that it is like kinda hypnosis (which is what Jafar seems to be using in the movie). Only works with people with less guarded minds, or magically weaker (which is funny because Azul had to take Floyd's unique magic to make sure Jamil wouldn't be able to control him, implying that Jamil's magic is probably stronger than Azul's. I'd love to see Jamil try Snake Charmer on, like, Leona).

It also seems that Jamil can take it back whenever he feels like it? It is odd, because Kalim goes back to normal at the most random moments, and if we go with "breaks when it goes against someone's beliefs", it means Kalim was ok with practically locking people in the dorm and tormenting them for the sake of training. Also, didn't Kalim literally decide to let everyone leave, and then got charmed into taking that back? (Or am I remembering it wrong? Terrible memory, me)

And, again, Kalim was able to ward off Shock the Heart, so it's not like he couldn't do so.

It's also interesting to remember that no one knows Kalim like Jamil does, so if Kalim really wasn't against what was happening, Jamil would absolutely know and use it.

So, TL;DR, Jamil's powers are confusing and it seems nothing but more powerful magic (or cancelling/weakening magic like Floyd's) can break it. And it doesn't seem to have a clear limit other than, y'know, overblot due to magic overuse.

One thing I've seen in fics that I don't get is how people seem to still be conscious while being controlled? That makes no sense. Kalim literally says he's missing some chunks of his memory and his fellow students have to fill him in on what he does when he "has a mood swing". If Jamil mind controlled you, you would not know it. I know it kinda seems so because we see Jamil do it, but that's the game giving us the cue, instead of Yuu actually seeing it.

(a fun thing I noticed is that both Jade and Jamil's unique magic requires the target to look directly at their eyes. Ruggie, meanwhile, doesn't need to do so, probably because he can only control the body and not the mind)

[heniareth]

But what if Nelaros had survived.

If Tabris is recruited into the Grey Wardens, he comes with!

Now he just has to survive the Joining (if he becomes a Grey Warden, but Duncan probably would have to recruit him too if the guards learn that he was involved in Vaughan's death)

And Ostagar

And every single freaking quest including the Deep Roads themselves

Nelaros with the trap-maker skill and his blacksmithing knowledge, fixing armor and weapons, maybe helping the rogues and finding new ways to apply poison to weapons which are quicker, waste less poison and are safer for the wielder

Nelaros seeing more of the world than he ever has, and it's so big and beautiful and dangerous.

His honest heart and friendly nature gain him friends among the companions. Alistair helps him hone his skills with the blade; him and Zevran discuss the differences and nuances of Fereldan and Antivan courtships in depth; he is fascinated by Morrigan's magic; he asks Leliana about Orlais, Wynne about life in the Circle, Sten about the Qun (he's had a taste of the wider world and wants more); he adapts weapons for Shale and steals Oghren's drink from time to time

Romance with the companions would be a.... topic to discuss

Tabris and him are technically married. Or engaged (the wedding was interrupted, they never said any vows). What do they do? What do they want? They fought through Denerim and through Ostagar together; where does that put them in relation to each other?

Either way, imagine: the fiercest battle couple/comrade in arms you've ever seen

They made their way through an arl's palace with stolen weapons and armor, two untrained elves who probably had a little too few meals in their lifetime, and they made it out alive

Literally nothing is gonna stop them

Making quick work on the slavers that dared to threaten their people. They rescued Shianni, they do the same for Cyrion

Standing side by side before the Landsmeet, before the nobles who stood by as the alienage was purged, the Blight swept through and slavers ran rampant, and knowing that they killed one of them at the start of their adventure and could proceed through the whole Landsmeet if necessary

Oh, and by the by, the Dark Ritual has potential new warden to complete it (:

Amd finally, the Archdemon. One sacrifices themselves; or they both survive yet again. Either way, there's gonna be tears.

After the battle of Denerim, provided he has survived, he tells Cyrion, Soris and Shianni everything about his adventures. He helps either Alistair or Tabris or both sort through the aftermath of the battle, deal with the ceremonies and get the best deal out of the new ruler's gratitude. He might not call the Denerim alienage home, but it's an alienage and he's an elf and he'll be damned if things don't get better after all of this.

Even so, he stays with the Grey Wardens. After travelling the length and width of Ferelden, the walls that encase the alienage seem terribly confining in comparison. There are more darkspawn to kill, the Grey Wardens need more recruits and capable leadership... and maybe Tabris is still around and they'll be able to share this chapter of their lives as well.

--

Or Tabris could tell the Denerim guards he wasn't involved and tell Nelaros to sit his pretty self down and to look after her family for her

And Nelaros does

He endures the hostility their neighbours direct at him and Sodis for antagonizing the humans

He defends the Alienage and the same neighbours that threw stones at him when the humans come with torches and swords (they are here because of him after all, says a voice in the back of his mind). He runs into a burning building to drag somebody out (he knows his way around fire thanks to his work at the forge). He gets one or two kids out of the orphanage and is devastated that he couldn't save more of them.

He watches Soris and Valora grow fond of each other and thinks back to the girl he went searching for and who fought by his side through a heavily guarded palace

News of the defeat at Ostagar get to Denerim and they hold a funeral for her

He supports Cyrion as best he can, looks for work, brings home money and food and medicine when they need it. He's doing it for her (and, slowly, he becomes part of the family)

He still thinks about Highever and his family there. He writes a lot of letter

Then the Blight comes. There have been plagues in the alienage before and Valendrian takes the necessary precautions. Nelaros might be able to contribute some information of interest; after all, life in the Highever alienage is rougher than in Denerim and they surely have seen plagues aplenty

When the slavers take Valendrian, everything descends into chaos. Nelaros tries to help. Valora is the next to be taken, then Cyrion. He finally goes to the Tevinter mages to see what is going on and promptly gets caged as well

He's lucky; he waited long enough before snooping around to still be there when the fabled Hero of Ferelden shows up

It turns out to be Tabris

The surprise is immense; the reunion is probably awkward (even if she's not in a romance with a companion, she's definitely not the same person he met a year ago). But all that has to be resolved quickly or be put aside because of the Blight

He helps fill her in on what happened during her absence; maybe she asks him to accompany her to the Landsmeet to accuse Loghain

Never before in Ferelden's history have two elves stirred up a Landsmeet like these two

Afterwards, Nelaros decides to be bold and asks for an audience with the new ruler. He explains the situation in the alienage and beseeches them to help change it. It might not amount to much, it might not even yield any results, but he had to try (his determination impresses the ruler. They will remember this elf)

He helps Shianni defend the alienage during the battle of Denerim. If he doesn't fall, he helps rebuild, put out fire, tend to the injured (he also tries to establish conversation with the Dailish elves that have helped defend the city. While not all of them are very receptive, their keeper is more than happy to join forces with the city elves to prevent more people from dying in the aftermath of the battle)

In the end, however, the Denerim alienage is no longer what it once was. A lot of people are leaving. The question presents itself: should he stay and help rebuild, go back to Highever or join Tabris (if she hasn't died) on her future journey? The question has no easy answer: he has come to love the Tabris family; the new ruler contacted him again about the business with the slavers and better living conditions for Denerim's elves; the kids he saved from the massacre at the orphanage look to him for a father figure. In the end, he stays. He's needed here, he has the chance to make a difference, he's happy; and, if Tabris is willing, he can wait for her a little longer

[peasthedumb]

So I sorta wrote a story thingy about Azulis (mah sona). Yall can get a hint of the very beginning of my OC’s full story from this I guess

(Am very awkward about sharing my writing but fuck it, I wrote this and I can’t think of any other way to get my OC’s story out there)

Azulis followed closely behind her new friend. Their name was Nova, wasn't it? She was pretty sure that was their name. They were rather interesting. They had 3 sets of ears, and a long thin tail that had a plume of extra fluffy fur at the base and the end. Their fur itself was in some of the most spectacular shades of purple and yellow. They almost looked like they came from space…that explained the name. She also knew they said something about dealing with…crystals? Magic crystals. Crystals that heal. So they’re a healer? Azulis thought that was boring but hey, Nova seemed invested in healing. At least the crystals seemed pretty.

How had Azulis even gotten here? It seemed like it was just a few weeks ago she was still up on that mountain. Her species was still rather tribal in nature. They came in 5 different clans,distinguishable by the colours of their markings, red, green, blue, yellow and Purple/pink. Each clan was very proud, and liked to segregate themselves from the other clans out of belief that they are lesser than them. Although, they especially hated the red clan, and the red clan especially hated them.

Azulis was doomed from birth. She was the child of two from different clans. Most who are born like this end up clanless, with white markings, but she was cursed to have blue and red markings so that everyone knew. If it had been any clan other than red that marked half of her, she probably would've been forgiven, but no. She was red clanned on her Right and Blue clanned on her left. She was a stain on the perfect record of the clans, and so she was forced to stay with the clan that everyone hated the most. The red. But obviously they hated her too. She was imprisoned, and although not intentionally harmed, she wasn't kept in great conditions. Red clan itself was struggling, so she was hardly even left with scraps of anything to eat. And then there was Xara, whose mere existence was like salt to a wound. She was narcissistic and cruel, but worstly, she was a mixed clan too. Red and Green. She had been exiled here too, but had gladly devoted herself to the Red clan. When she eventually got herself on good terms with the Master of the clan, she was allowed to be welcomed as a part of them, even if half her markings say otherwise. She was the proudest of all the Red clan. And she HATED Azulis. To Xara, Azulis didn't deserve to live bearing the markings of red clan if she's not going to be loyal. She went out of her way to make Azulis’s life worse. But still, Azulis lived, keeping herself calm. She was good at that. Blue clan is renowned for their calmness. But red clan is renowned for their violence, and it didn't take more than a few years for that to come out in her.

She waited until a mistake was made in locking her cell, then she bolted. She ran for all it was worth. Somewhere in the panic she clawed a red clan person's stomach open. She took his sword, and continued running. She never looked back.

And now she was here. Far from where her species called home. Most people here didn't even know what species she was.She was seen as Exotic. Her long, glossy grey-blue fur, her long and incredibly fluffy tail, her massive ears and glowing markings, even her glass like claws, sharper than knives. Most who saw her left a compliment on one of these aspects. Too bad she didn't take well to strangers trying to interact with her. But then there was Nova. The two had bumped into each other, literally. Azulis had looked up for a split second at the forest canopy as she heard an interesting bird call, and when she looked back down, she'd collided with this purple bundle of fluff. And now they were friends.

She told Nova the basics of what had happened to her, and I do mean the very basics. Something along the lines of ‘I escaped imprisonment and have been surviving in the woods ever since’.And Nova explained how they had fled their old village as it was becoming a trend to trial people for witchery there. It was only so long before they went after them, so they decided to pack up and leave. They were looking for a new village to settle in. Azulis had never been to a real village. Even back with the red clan, that was more of a camp than a village. The ‘prison’ had just been some bars blocking off a section of a cave. Nova promised to help Azulis adjust to village life, and try to explain civilisation to her. She thought it sounded interesting enough. And so now she's tagging along with Nova.

She wonders what it’ll be like if she ever manages to settle into a village.

[fightxxmexxshiggy]

People mentioned dnd to me and now I'm having thoughts so everyone can have a crisis with me about how hot this would be.

BAKUGOU the first one up is our sexy boom man and lord let me tell you I absolutely see him as a lvl 15 half elf artificer (really hope I spelled that right) he would come up with the most intricate bombs and weapons that he'd have a reputation for always being ready to level a kingdom if he needed to. He would literally find you doing some petty theft to survive and decide your interesting. He would take you on as an assistant teach you some profitable skills and when he felt you were gonna be ok without him talked to you about where you could go for a good job. He is not happy when you laugh in his face. That is until you explain that the only thing you wanna do for work is be his assistant and work his cock inside your hole every night if he'd let you. This was absolutely the perfect thing to say because the next thing you know he's gripping you by the neck and slowly walking you backwards to the bed. The moment is tense and you can feel the sex energy in the air so you make a joke about being ready to store his boom stick for him. He smirks and pulls out a long thiccc cock that has you both wary and wetter than a flood. He would crawl over you and slide it between your lips the hand on your throat still gentle but the command he has over you is unmistakable. As he gets a steady pace of face FUCKING you, he also gets into a little rythm of squeezing and caressing your throat in time with his cock head hitting sliding into it. Before long he's cuming down your throat and growling at you to drink every drop like a good girl so he can fuck your little full of his next load. He would literally say "only good girls get breed and good girls drink all the cum their given so keep swallow my pretty assistant."

SERO he is a shifter archer who was on the way to meet up with his party when he finds you wounded after a battle with a rude hobgoblin. He patches you up and takes you with him to the next town to get you to a proper doctor. After meeting with his party he goes back to visit you and make sure he didn't drag you here only for you to take a ground nap. He doesn't expect to find you up and fully healed. But at this point he's just gonna go with it. As a thank you you take him to a local inn for a meal. After talking and laughing together for a bit you start getting flirty and rubbing his leg underneath the table. He grins slow and cat like before hooking his leg around yours and jerking his head towards the back alley. Once outside he's got you against the wall and is finger FUCKING you WHILE he rolls your clit with his thumb. In minutes your squirting and squeezing his fingers. That's when you learn that shifters are long and strong. SERO'S teeth are gripping your shoulder while he holds you up against the wall finger tips digging into your ass and hard cock rearranging your guts like it's a damn sport. Your cuming again when he let's go and floods your womb with hot cum. Just as your ready for him to put you down he starts thrusting again hitting your deepest spot like he's guided by magic. The nonstop pounding has you breathless an unable to do more than grip his hair as you moan in his ear. A part of your mind is wondering if his party has space for one more until everything goes blank when you cum so hard you go limp.

KIRISHIMA he is a goliath barbarian with a surprising sense of humor. His party uses your town as a homebase of sorts and he comes to your shop often for supplies and even more often for the snacks and pastries you sell at the counter. He always buys enough for his friends and then sits down with the large portion he got just for his big ass self and has tea with you while he fills up. He regales you with tales of his dungeon raids and where he might be off to next. Usually he leaves you with a little charm he had carved while off on a quest except this time he leaves a wooden carved ring with the word mine engraved on it. The sly man has already headed back to the large home he shares with his party on the edge of town. Once the work day is done you march down to his home an knock on the door. It's answered by the ever grumpy half self that you push past and march up to your goliath. You drag him out by his ear and hand him the ring back with a growled if you don't put it on me the right way no more snacks. He puts it on your left hand and then throws you over his shoulder. He runs to his room and drops you on the bed much faster than you would have thought such a big man could. With your skirts thrown up around your waist you have a perfect view of the redhead slurping and feasting on your pussy. It's only after your 6th screaming orgasm that he frees his cock. You swear it's a war hammer made of flesh but that doesn't stop your pussy from clenching at the sight of it. Long minutes later you were impaled on half of his cock just whimpering and squirting while he worked you up and down like a fuck doll. His growls and snarls only made your pussy weep more juices down the length of his cock. On a particularly hard thrust you came so hard your pussy convulsed around his cock milking his cum from him so violently that even when he had shot every drop into your welcoming womb he was still twitching inside as if he had more to shoot.

DENKI he is a tabaxi rogue. He was doing some scouting for his party on a quest when he sees you. Your collecting herbs and fruits nothing strange except your scent hits his nose like mace to the face and he jumps from the tree's to land in front of you. Needless to say you are freaked out until he apologizes and explains that his species are drawn to the sent of their mate and your scent is making him want to both protect you like a precious treasure but also rail you like he's in rut. Yes he says this like it's not kinda nuts to say to a stranger. You weren't happy in your village and you had given up on finding a life partner so you took a leap and said you'll be his mate on the condition that he courts you like other races do first. He's over the moon and agrees but asks that you let him cover you in his scent before he goes back to his work just to keep him sane. He rubs and grinds all over you for about five minutes before running off to continue his work. From that point on he visits you at least twice a week and courts you, bringing gifts and having meals with you. One night after it had been two weeks since he last came he shows up with a few almost healed wounds and tells you that his last mission was difficult. You fuss over him for a while until you notice the clear bulge in his pants. Thinking about how much you had missed him you decided that you needed the closeness that only sex could bring. He's panting at the knowledge that he'll finally be able to claim the little pussy that's been giving off the most alluring scent he's ever smelled. A few minutes of tongue FUCKING you with your leg over his shoulder later, your sliding down his thicc cock and riding him like you used to ride your father's horse. He's FUCKING up into you with no mercy, absolutely abusing your gspot. The sensations are too much and you can't stop crying as you cum soaking his cock. He rolls you to your back still fucking you like a madman until he shoves deep and his cock swells locking him inside your pussy as he cums so much you can feel it escape your pussy.

Someone come take my internet away. @hipster-merchant-of-death @reinawritesbnha @sendhelpimstupid @cupcake-rogue

[swanqueensalad]

TRIGGERWARNING!

Without triggering anyone I wanna ask two things:

1) Was Cora ever physically abbussive towards Regina?

2) I know many ppl's head canon is that Leopold raped Regina again and again as his bride, but is that your headcanon too?

ok again TRIGGER WARNING for abuse & SA (and brief mention of suicide) for anyone reading/scrolling!

i'm going to just explain my personal interpretation of the show and these subjects, bc i find regina so interesting and heartbreaking. and i actually do think part of what makes regina so fascinating as a character is her relationship within the cycle of abuse and how yes, she was incredibly hurt and manipulated all her life, but she eventually managed to break free of it all and work to be better for her own child.

buckle up because i have a lot of feelings and this is probably going to be LONG

so, my thoughts on exactly what happened and why regina is as fucked up as she is:

so yeah, cora was a horrific parent. it's canon that she abused regina both emotionally and physically for practically all her life.

in practically her very first scene, we see cora using magic to hurt her eighteen year old daughter - to violently restrain her/drop her to the ground when she 'misbehaves' which pretty clearly says this is a woman who uses power and fear as a control tactic, and is not afraid of physically hurting regina.

and if this is what she was doing when regina is almost an adult, i think it's safe to assume she's been doing it since she was very young - regina's response 'please don't, i'll be good' is the conditioned response of a much younger child. everything about the way regina was written, her relationship with cora, and the way lana and the directors chose to play it screams abuse victim. she is hypervigilant - she jumps when people come close or make sudden noises. when she's choked with magic she immediately knows not to struggle or fight back. as a young girl, she is terrified of doing things wrong.

(also, when we get the flashback to actual 10 year old regina, cora says she can't help her because 'it needs to be someone who's magic has never hurt her')

while i think most of the time cora relied on magic to physically punish regina - knowing how much regina particularly hated it/was afraid of it - i think she was definitely not above slapping her for more minor infractions

beyond just physical abuse, cora was clearly emotionally distant and got regina to a place of being pretty touch-starved and desperate for affection. (lana and barbara play this so masterfully as well) we see her being constantly, nastily critical of everything her daughter does.

i think it's also implied in the regina rising book that cora was controlling/restrictive of regina's food to ensure she stayed thin/attractive which is just a whole other can of worms

as for leopold. please bear with me while i RANT:

nothing will ever make me more mad than the fact this man was never held accountable in the narrative for his role in regina's story and how absolutely fucking awful he was.

first of all, even before he meets regina, he is dodgy af. he supposedly genuinely loves cora, but throws her out immediately when he discovers her pregnancy without even asking her if it's true/discussing it. also, even in that flashback the man is visibly much older than cora and even more so than eva, who he actually does marry (although i do believe they came to truly love each other). so yeah he has a habit of Not Listening to women and not looking at women his own age

and then we get to regina. the eighteen year old daughter of his ex fiancee (younger even than the unborn child who cora carried when she was engaged to him)

yes i think he raped her. because powerful old men do not marry pretty eighteen year olds for the company. (also, if it was just so snow would have a mother figure, well, she already had her maid joanna. and if snow really wanted regina around that badly, leopold could have just brought her to court as a lady in waiting, a fitting role for a noblewoman, and more appropriate seeing as regina was only about eight years older than snow)

regina is visibly distressed by the proposal. she is panicked. she looks to her father to help. cora accepts the proposal for her. and leopold does not care. i think this tells u all u need to know about his views on consent

(also it all gets ickier when you remember leopold was attracted to cora, and regina is considered to look like cora did when she was younger)

leopold clearly had zero interest in regina as a person. he used her for arm candy for events, to make snow happy, and to keep his bed warm. (later, he invades her privacy so much regina counts on him reading her diary as a thoughtless and integral part of a plan, and locks her up for receiving a present from another man) and yet he is never treated as a villain or ever held accountable (besides regina killing him - good for her - but even then it's framed more as a way to villainise her for tricking sidney) and it makes me FURIOUS

i sometimes see the take that leopold might have stopped raping her towards the latter years of their marriage, but i disagree - i think maybe it did get fewer and farther between, but regina was still his wife who he only saw as serving a few purposes, and the way he is so possessive of her in 1x011 makes no sense otherwise, seeing as he was so uninterested in her in every other way

i do think a lot of regina's rage and vendetta against snow is because of this abuse too.

hear me out: in s1 especially, both snow and regina refer to snow as 'ruining her life'. because regina blamed her for everything that happened to her. not only did snow cause daniel's murder, it was her desire for regina as a mother that prompted leopold to marry her.

and this marriage was hell. and i think people don't realise how long it lasted either - snow went from a child to at least her late teens before regina killed leopold. regina was a traumatised young girl, grieving the love of her life, with no friends, no allies, nobody except the literal dark one who was grooming her for his own gain. (no wonder she clung to the brief sense of freedom and control his lessons offered. no wonder she nearly killed herself.)

and while regina suffered, she was forced to play with snow white every day, who was so spoiled, so loved, so happy, and had no idea of the life she had unwittingly trapped regina in.

so yeah, it's all pretty dark.

and it's for all these reasons i think ouat ended up shying away from many more regina backstory episodes centring on the time she was married/pre-evil queen years, because they were on abc after all, and i don't think they were really equipped to deal with the horrendousness of the story they'd created

but lana most certainly did her work becaue i think all of this nuance does show in her portrayal

and it all just makes regina's ending - the good queen, in her own name, safe and strong and loved, part of a true family, her bond with snow healed - so much more of a relief.

[cheelduh]

How to tie up a cute boy

(Highschool Au)

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Parts: 1  2  3

Word count: 4K

Warnings: Swearing, Scaramouche abuse, no Signora slander this time, shit humour.

Synopsis: "Why are you doing homework?" Childe groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

Note: Unedited yet again besties. Tysm for reading :) I got Childe after losing him to mf MONA, istg it was the most stressful moment of my life.

The clock ticks with its pendulum, ridiculing you as it holds the time. The gentle whirring of the air conditioning in the background serves as the icing on the cake to your pent up aggression.

You try not to glare at your phone too much after receiving a text from Childe that told you not to worry, that his dad picked him up and that he was in the comfort of his home, letting the flu blow over.

It took a lot of convincing from his part earlier that morning to get you to go back and actually attend the rest of your classes, making sure to check up on him every break plus the additional "bathroom breaks" you usually never take while in class.

"I can't let you get in trouble for me." He murmured with a small smile that pumped your blood a little faster than usual. "I'm fine, really. Don't worry your pretty little head."

You do exactly that.

You don't even know why you're so worried. He's sick, not dying. Not to mention, you aren't even his girlfriend let alone his friend to care so much. 

Your intrusive thoughts don't waste any time. You latch onto the one thought that takes over. He's probably dead. Lying in his bed in a heap of pillows, passing peacefully while his parents are in the other room. He's dead.

Okay, he's not dead. You intrusive thoughts sure do one hell of a job. He'll be fine, and in no time he'll go back to being a reckless distraction in your life that you need to surpass. Just another obstacle to add onto the list of things life has thrown at you.

But for an obstacle, he sure is kind of cute.

You refrain from bashing your head on the desk. School isn't really a preferred environment on your list of top ten places to shrivel up and die.

Speaking of death and all that is evil, why is Childe always on your mind? He takes up every nook and cranny of your day, constantly, and truth be told it's starting to boil your piss.

Every time you close your eyes you see his smug smile, and hear his stupid laugh. He's an annoying little prick who gets a rise out of exasperating you. Yet here you are, terrified by the warmth that blossoms in your heart when you so much as hear his name.

The final bell rings at long last, conveniently before you bite your tongue to avoid screaming, and not another second is wasted once you launch yourself out the door. You dodge through the crowd of students in the hall that are buzzing in excitement from it being a Friday afternoon, and you would be too if you weren't so damn hung up over a ginger with a battlekink.

Locker in view, you make a beeline and spend the next two minutes fumbling with the lock in your hands.

"Woah there cutie," Lisa speaks up playfully. "At this rate you'll break the poor lock with your bare hands."

For a moment you're surprised at her sudden appearance, but then remember that it's normal for her to worm her way anywhere.

"It's just—this lock is being dumb okay? It has no reason being a pain in my ass but it wakes up every day and chooses violence." You hiss through your teeth, a sharp metallic ring invading your ears when you lose it and jostle the combination lock against the door of your locker.

Lisa winces, but smiles teasingly nonetheless. "Want me to give it a try?"

"Please."

Lisa has the door open at record speed.

"I love you Lisa." You confess wholeheartedly, gripping at your chest. "I love you so much—"

"Yeah yeah," She waves you off with a grin. "Now hurry up and go save your boyfriend from the common flu. Archons knows he won't make the night."

You flush at the word "boyfriend" and don't give much thought to the insinuation that lies within the rest of her sentence.

Sliding your skateboard under an arm, you spin on your heel just to bump straight into Scaramouche, who's won the scowl of the century on his face. He's the last person you want to see right now, but apparently the universe wants to have a pissing match with you.

"Give this homework to that idiot Ginger." He shoves a stack of papers into you. "Tell him that once he's done circling the drain, I'm gonna kick his ass." He then leans in, murderous glint in his eyes. "And if you ever touch me again I'll take a shit in your cereal. That's not a threat, it's a promise."

You shiver at the thought of him squatting on your Cheerios, hands becoming clammy as you try and justify yourself. "It was an accident."

Your pitiful excuse earns you nothing from the navy haired boy. "It'll be an accident when I murder your entire family, three generations over."

"Hi Mona!" You wave excitedly over his shoulder at the body of students that are totally not Mona. With elation he fails to conceal, Scaramouche turns to look at the speed of light.

You take the chance to make your escape—not before waving to Lisa, chuckling to yourself. He's down bad.

With great expertise you file your way through the flock of students chattering near the entrance. , you confidently place your skateboard down on the sidewalk, ready to—

Wait—where does he live again?

You sigh heavily, ignoring the sadness as you thank the universe internally for pulling the reigns on your disastrous plan. Checking up on Childe at his house? With his family present? Making a complete fool out of yourself? What are you thinking? The possibilities are horrendous. He probably doesn't even think of you like that, he just likes a challenge and you pose as one.

You turn away to make a run for it in the direction of your home, all the while ignoring the nagging worry in your chest for Childe. He's probably fine anyways, you don't need to check up on him, and if you did he'd likely find a way to spin it and tease you relentlessly.

Although somehow, the thought of being teased by him isn't as dreadful as you'd like it to be.

Suddenly, an idea graces you, one that guarantees your misery by sating your obligation to check up on Childe. A litany of curses escape your mouth. Genius really, the amount of ways you can think of doing something that'll end in your demise.

"Adeptus Xiao." You whisper apprehensively, already regretting your decision. "Adeptus Xiao." Glancing around your surroundings, you barely notice the shadow that looms over you at your backside.

"What do you want mortal?" Unbeknownst to you, he strikes out of nowhere, making you jump back several meters. You manage to muffle a surprised shriek.

Xiao is Venti's -6 ft boyfriend, the vicious epitome of an eboy. He has a scaled tattoo covering up the majority of an arm, a few piercing holes in his ears, all matched up with a disinterested look. Somehow, he always appears out of nowhere if you call out his name. It's sort of disturbing in a way.

His amber eyes pierce through you, forcing a shudder of fear and dread to lace your blood, almost as if he can sense you shittalking him in your head.

With shaky hands, you ask, "Can you tell me where—"

"No."

"You didn't even hear me ou—"

"No."

"Please?"

He refuses to at least pretend to think about it for a moment.

"No."

"Why?" You frown, stomping your foot on the ground childishly.

"Because." He retorts with a lack of interest, but doesn't further explain his point. English teachers must love this kid.

"Okay," You say slowly, casually inspecting his form as you come up with an idea, briefly remembering Lumine mentioning it to you. "How about I give you my share on almond tofu Tuesday."

The lack of interest on his face wavers slightly. Bingo.

"What do you want mortal?" Xiao mutters gruffly, arms crossed, face morphing into subtle annoyance.

You wrack your brain for a proper answer. You can't just outright ask him or it'll seem like you have a thing for Childe, which you unfortunately do, but you'd like to keep a semblance of integrity. Ah yes, the homework!

"I gotta deliver these to Childe." You outstretch the pile of worksheets in your hands. "Except I don't know where he lives. Can you tell me?"

Xiao's eyes glint with danger. "Did you summon me for the trivial task of giving you an address?"

You nod furiously.

"Do humans have no shame?" Its rhetorical. Expressionlessly, he closes his eyes with intent focus, doing what you assume to be locating Childe's exact location.

He blinks an eye open, reaches a hand out. "Give me your phone." Palm waiting.

You hand it over to him almost desperately.

One glance at your bubbly phone case and he doesn't even try to hide his distaste. He taps a few times, then hands it back to you almost immediately.

On the screen is maps, and Childe's home is about a fifteen minute walk away.

Your jaw drops in disbelief. "How did you do that?"

"Easy," He mutters, leaning back against the school gate as the remainder of students walk past the two of you. "Locating demons that need subjugating is but a simple task."

There's a pregnant pause. Demon.

"Childe's a demon?" You gasp, even though you've always had your suspicions. Hence the reason you invest so much in demon-cancelling charms.

"What? No." He mutters with a roll of his eyes, and you note that his irritation grows the more questions you ask. "I had a physics project with him last semester."

That's why the charms don't work.

Your mouth forms an o, in fear that if you keep this conversation going on any longer, he'll snap at you. Especially when your next line of interrogation involves how he's able to appear and disappear into thin air.

It's a magic trick you'll want to master whenever Il Dottore has another conniption fit in the middle of the hallways after Kaeya tells him he looks like he has skid marks.

"Thank you." You say instead, trying to preserve his regard, but by the time you meet his gaze he's already gone with the wind.

—

Childe's home is surprisingly humble, considering the amount of fat stacks of cash he carries around in his fanny pack so care-freely. It's a normal suburban home from what you can tell, a little bigger than normal with a double garage, neatly mowed lawn and a few forgotten decorations from the windblume festival. A series of water guns lay forgotten near the entrance, making their presence known when you stumbled upon them.

It's hard to remain unphased. Especially since such a normal looking home has bred someone as ruthless as Childe.

Maybe it not the home, you think. Maybe it's the way he was raised. You recall a few glimpses of his mother in middle school, but because of your worse for wear memory retention, you can't ballpark her personality type.

As your thoughts wander further down to his parents and early childhood, villain origin story and what not, you're pulled out of your concentration when the door opens. The possible implications of being here are most definitely not in your favor.

Childe's mother is a stunning woman in her mid-forties who sure as hell doesn't show it in that jaw-dropping sapphire dress, topped off with a brilliant smile that makes your knees weak. Like mother like son, you suppose.

With her sudden appearance, strangely enough, you can remember how good her tiramisu bites are.

You take a moment to respond, swallowing thickly, only to stare at her stupidly.

His mother doesn't waste another second before ushering you in, oblivious to your star-struck expression. "Y/N? L/N Y/N? My have you grown. I remember when you were only this tall." She lifts her hand up a little above her waist, the jewels on her fingers dazzling with every movement. "How is your mother doing?"

"She's doing alright, busy with the clinic." You're able to find your words, smiling back at her, able to get somewhat familiar with her warmth. "I hope I'm not intruding. Childe forgot some homework." You say, heaving the short stack up.

"Ajax?" She laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't believe he's going by that now. I wonder when this phase will be over. He may act tough but he's such a softie, has the biggest heart."

You, in between concealed emotions and giggles that threaten to leak, try to hide the oncoming grin but it's impossible. "Well he's got you to thank for it."

"You flatter me too much Y/N," She fixes the up do, pinning back the blonde hair that deftly frame her familiar cerulean eyes. "I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Her words make you waver momentarily. The fondness you've refused to share, the drawn out stares in the halls, the lingering touches, you don't want to acknowledge it but it's there. Whatever it is.

"I'm so sorry for cutting this short dear," His mother sighs, grabbing her keys off the counter and placing her wallet in an elegant handbag. "My niece is getting married and we're already late. I told Ajax I'd stay if he didn't feel too well but he said he could handle a headache. That boy, I swear, always tries to power through."

You nod in understanding, but wait a minute. A headache?

Scrunching up your face, eyebrows furrowed, you ask. "Headache?"

She frowns, applying another layer of her rouge lipstick hastily in a nearby mirror. "I know dear, how unfortunate. The school nurse said it's a migraine, and I shouldn't fret much, but a mother can't help but worry. If only he weren't so stubborn, like his father."

As if on cue, a loud honk comes from outside.

"That must be him!" She exclaims, hurriedly sliding in her heels, turning back to look at your awkward figure. "Ajax is in his room, it's the second door to the right upstairs. I've made some lasagna for the kids, you ought to have some as well, I'll be upset if you don't—" Another annoying honk cuts her off, to which she scoffs, shaking a fist. "That old man, I'll strangle him in his sleep. I must be going now, goodbye dear." She reveals a twinkling smile at you one last time, waving a slim hand before picking up her heels and making a run for it.

The door closes with an unceremonious thud, gust of wind in its trail, leaving a bewildered high schooler in its wake.

Snapping out of your haze, overwhelming tides threaten to drown you whole. Being in Childe's home, alone, with him a handful of stair steps and a wall or two away, your cheeks are set ablaze.

Now that his mother's gone, you take a second to really look. There are a few toys littered in front of the TV, home covered in with soft throws and coordinated cushions, a lazy sectional plopped right in the middle. The marks on the furniture with all the stories, the light hued mismatched frames hanging on the walls and on all the table, so many pictures of those that resemble him, his brothers, his sisters, his family. You can almost hear the echoing laughter in the halls, the childish squeals and pitter patter of tiny feet slapping the hardwood floor.

This is where he grew up. This is where he retires to after a long day full of gratifying fistfights. This is where he was raised to be who he is today, ambitious and reckless, with the absurd dream to one day rule the world. This is his home.

It's...like being wrapped in blanket, safe and cozy, surrounded by all the love in the world.

Absentmindedly, your fingers trace the outlines of a younger Childe, two missing teeth and eyes full of dreams, hugging the side of his father's shoulder because his small arms can't wrap around them. Not just yet.

You make your way over to the staircase, which has even more frames littered across the wall, one that falls short of hiding the marks of a green crayon—another slice of domesticity you aren't quite accustomed to.

The reality sets in, and you come to a conclusion. This home is definitely not an environment for growing psychopaths, Childe just beats the odds like he beats up kids on the daily.

Your fist hovers over his door as you contemplate abandoning the sheets on a nearby table, but his mother was so sweet and polite, so incredibly hospitable, you wouldn't have the heart to make a run for it.

"I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Three consecutive knocks. If he doesn't answer, you'll leave them at the door.

"Mama," Childe's muffled groans stem from the other side, and oh, you want to revel in the grave undertone of his voice because it's certainly not a common occurrence. "I told you I'm fine. You can go okay? I don't want you to be late, just need to sleep it off."

You blink, lips curling, and then knock again.

"Mama," He whines again, and it has you grinning mischievously. He's a mommy's boy, he has to be. The thought envelopes your heart with a newfound fondness. "Just come in and hurry."

You eagerly take in the room once you slip in, eyes scanning over every little detail, until they zero in on the heap of sheets smack dab on the single bed, a pair of feet dangling off the edge, topped with a comforter thrown over leisurely.

Childe's facing away from you, head dipped in between his shoulders, probably trying to find a position that's more comfortable. He's shivering, sweating at the same time. His mother must've been too preoccupied to notice. This isn't the first time he's used his exceptional bullshitting finesse.

"I can't believe you lied to your mother," You cross your arms, leaning back against the door.

With a jerk, Childe flings into a sitting up position, wide awake and aware of everything that is going on, a stark contrast from nearly seconds ago.

He blinks at you in shock, once, twice, rubs his eyes a bit, relaxes, then leans back, out of it completely. "For a sleep paralysis monster, you sure are kind of cute."

"For and idiot you sure are an idiot." You snort back.

"Wait a minute," He mutters slowly, jaw dropping. "You're actually here?!"

Ignoring his question, you opt to slap the papers on his desk to ignore your clammy palms. "Homework."

"And here I thought you came here all this way to be my personal nurse." He smirks, recovering from his momentary shock fairly swiftly. Doesn't refrain from giving you that shit stain of a bad boy grin, even with a flushed face and concavity under his eyes.

"I can be your personal mortician instead."

"I didn't know you were into role play babe, but I'll take what I can get." He winks, but is punished by a sequence of coughs that earn a wince from you.

"Headache?" You tease after he quiets down, but he remains as cavalier as always.

He sighs, sides of his lips still arched upwards. "My parents barely have any time to themselves, it's so hectic with the kids. What kind of son would I be if I couldn't even give them this?"

He must've threatened Barbara.

"You're," You inhale, briefly letting the silence hang between you two, mulling over what you wish to convey. sweet.

"Irresistible? Hot? Sexy?" He starts casual, arrogant smirk widening.

"Kind of not a complete asshole, is what I was going to say."

"Careful girlie," He narrows his eyes on you, playful lilt in his tone. The comforter is allowed to slip past his shoulders to reveal the goods that lie underneath, the complete naked chest of a post-puberty highschool boy who sprays too much axe. Full pectorals are something to pay for, stringed with smooth muscles that ripple their way over his toned shoulders. "If you keep teasing me like this, I can't promise I'll be the nice guy."

"One more time from the top," You bite back, avoiding staring at him for too long. "Without the congested nose this time."

With great expertise, he weakly throws a pillow at you, and you watch it exceptionally land at your feet, barely grazing the tips of your socks.

"Impressive," You whistle, not impressed.

He pouts, shivers, then is dunking his head back into the welcoming embrace of his plush collection of pillows.

With a sigh, you plop down on his chair, grab a pen and begin calculating derivatives.

"What're you doing?" He doesn't even turn your way, voice muffled.

"Homework," You reply nonchalantly, trying to calm your nerves. "unless you want me to get you something to eat, considering you puked out your gogurt on Barbara's shoes earlier. Congrats by the way, you're hit listed by her fan club."

"Why are you doing homework?" He groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

He really has an IQ below room temperature.

Burying the formidable obligation to clock him in the face on behalf of society, you slowly get up to approach his bed, to which he grins widely in disbelief.

Apprehensively, you climb onto his bed, and he scoots over, excitement as clear as day. His hair's a wild mess from all the shifting, almost makes you want to card a hand through it. Your heart nestles it's way in your throat at the sight of his blazing blue eyes.

You pity him for what you're about to do.

"Relax Childe," You lean over him with confidence you never knew you had to begin with, face hovering inches before his. Your fists strategically grip the comforter on either side of him. "We have all day after all."

Although you attempt to pay no heed to his quivering hand that snakes up to find solace on your hip, you momentarily shiver at the tenderness.

He's eating this up and leaving no crumbs. Closing his eyes in anticipation, his lips tremble when he tries to close in the distance.

Abruptly, you cross both handfuls of sheets over his body, tying them securely in place to keep him docile. He struggles in your grip, eyes snapping open in surprise. "Wuh-What."

"Did you really think you had a chance?" You cross your arms, stepping back to get a good look at your handiwork.

"Honestly?" Childe huffs, struggles some in his restraints. "I wasn't really thinking."

"Typical," You scrunch your nose up, unscrunch, and then exhale. "You stay here and I'll go make you some soup. Well, not that you can really move but you get the idea."

"You're really going to leave me here like this?" He pouts cutely, melting you, and the sick bastard knows of his power.

"Relax," You wave a hand, "I may be evil but I'm not Scaramouche."

Meanwhile, Scaramouche sneezes as he tries to ask Mona out, falling straight on his ass from the kick back, making a complete fool out of himself. Mona doesn't mind though, finds it endearing.

Back at Childe's room, he raises a brow, expectant.

Going through the five stages of grief, you do something you've been wanting to do for a while, succumbing to the immense feeling.

Closing in the distance between you two, you suck in a breath and gently tilt Childe's head to the side. He blinks quickly, not quite expecting your sudden forwardness, about to say something that doesn't matter as soon as you place a tender peck on the side of his cheek.

Time stops, the world coming to a halt completely. A moment made in history, one you won't ever forget, fresh in both your minds from forward on.

And then you stagger away as if you've been stabbed.

"Soup!" You squeak, appalled by the sheer boldness of your actions. "I'll go make soup while you rest."

Childe, frozen, stares at you incredibly confused, and then beams.

Dear Archons, what have you done.

[oh-boy-me]

I just read both the australia and museum post and the chaos levels are top tier, but like imagine the chaos that ensues if lord diavolo discovers about amusment parks and immediately just buys tickets to disneyland. Lucifer is basically the dad trying not to loose his children(lord diavolo included). Lord diavolo wanting to ride a loopy rollercoaster and just having the time of his life! (Also I highkey see diavolo ordering lucifer to make a disneyland in devildom tbh) Also mouse ear headbands!

This..... this took forever

Hey there anon!  Sorry it took literally a year to answer this!  If you’re still into Obey Me, I hope this was a pleasant surprise.

Also for the first time ever a scenario post is being put under the cut for length purposes.  This scenario is 2.6k words Jesus

Please note that the last time I went to Disney was in 2015, so anything that’s newer than that is taken from the extensive reading of Disney advice blogs I read in preparation for this post.  Anything older than that is likely from experience.

Also, I tried my best to keep this spoiler free for the attractions that can be affected by it.

--

So the Devildom DOES have the concept of amusement parks.  I slept on this ask for so long that we’ve learned about Devil’s Coast.  It seems to be more akin to a smaller-scale theme park, though.  Small-ish.  I’m used to NYC idk what constitutes as small.

Something like Disney World is on such a larger scale!!  When Diavolo heard about that, he knew they had to go.

They are going to Disney World in Orlando because it’s the only one I’ve been to.

Lucifer is REALLY getting tired of these field trips, but there would be no weird animals, and there would be no sobering lessons on global extinction events at a family-friendly amusement park.  He.  He can handle this.

Solomon has actually been banned from all Walt Disney theme parks.  We’re talking blacklist-level banned.  He’s barred from ever entering any Disney park ever again.  However, this was back in 1976, so this must be, like, his son or something, right?  There’s no way this is the same guy.  Thought the security guard who let him in.

What did Solomon do to get banned?  When asked, he only gave a curious hum.  “Yeah, I wonder.”

The place is split into four parks, so they’ll spend one day in each.

Barbatos continued to flex his power as the only one in the group with a brain cell, being sure to get them all fast passes.  He even set time back just for the passes while they were booking the rides they wanted to cut the lines for, so if they don’t get used he’s going to be very snippy.

Also for convenience sake this is taking place in an AU where everything is the same but COVID doesn’t exist to shut down some rides and attractions.

Day 1: Hollywood Studios

MC and Simeon basically have to coerce Lucifer into letting everyone run free instead of making them all line up with a walking rope all day.  He relents on the condition that everyone checks in periodically so he can at least know they haven’t killed anyone.

Nobody will check in except for maybe Beelzebub and those at Purgatory Hall.

Levi immediately gathered his fellow Star Wars fans (which basically meant calling over Mammon Belphie and Asmo and then pulling in two unsuspecting people suddenly given the title of “Star Wars fan”), and made a beeline for Galaxy’s Edge.  There’s a LOT to do there and damn it if he wasn’t going to hit all of it.

First up for their group is the interactive Millennium Falcon Smuggler’s Run.  They fail the mission.  Levi’s pretty pissed, but everyone agrees that it was fun nonetheless.  They really felt like they were doing a mission in the Falcon!  Plus, the gameplay element was totally up the alley of most of this group.  Simeon does feel a little nauseous from Luke’s jerky steering, though.

Did you know that Diavolo loves Toy Story?  He does.  He’s very much enjoying the Slinky roller coaster with Barbatos.

Barbatos would rather be spending time at the shows and performances, but oh no god forbid we don’t get an autograph from Doc McStuffins.  Lucifer please come find him and save him.

Lucifer somehow wandered into the Frozen Sing-Along Celebration.  He wants out.  Barbatos please come find him and save him.

In general, Lucifer isn’t a fan of these sorts of places, so honestly he’s just hiding from the others and waiting for today to be over.  Barbatos told him that there are parks that don’t revolve around rides and characters, and he’s holding out for those.

Luckily for them Diavolo wants to do LITERALLY everything, and that does include the shows, so Barbatos and Lucifer can have at least some fun today

Levi, Asmo, and Beel are about to start their relay for getting character autographs when Satan shows up out of nowhere and starts dragging everyone over to the Tower of Terror.  Solomon bars all attempts to flee on a certain Avatar of Greed’s side.

The line to the Tower is so long, and honestly?  Satan feels like the ride didn’t live up to the literal hour they waited to get on.  Like yeah it was fun, but way too short.

He voices those thoughts, and Levi, who Satan knows is afraid of heights, is pretty fucking livid and drags him to Rock n Rollercoaster as revenge.  Satan hates roller coasters.

As for the others, Asmo and Luke have a lot of fun on the thrill rides.  Mammon and Simeon do not.  Beel is a little spooked by them but still manages to have fun, while Belphie and Solomon think they’re alright.

Eventually, Simeon gets too sick to move, and they assign him to Luke.  They say it’s because he’s too short to ride some of the rides (even though he’s literally not, screw you guys.)

Barbatos messes with time a lil bit so they can enjoy the Fantasmic Show and Fireworks to wrap the day up.

Levi is very jealous of Diavolo’s Doc McStuffins autograph.  Somehow Asmo has Buzz Lightyear’s number.

Day 2: Animal Kingdom

Satan is vibrating

He literally instantly sprints to the Kilimanjaro Safari.  And good for him; that’s something best done while the sun isn’t high up.  The whole gang actually agrees to check that one out, and while Satan isn’t thrilled to be within 50 feet of Lucifer, he’s glad Simeon is there because he remembers how his presence lured animals out in Australia.

Simeon also finds himself pulled along the trails by Satan and parents watch in horror as a gorilla gives him a friendly pat on the back.

If you didn’t know, Animal Kingdom is divided into the two continents of Asia and Africa, as well as the secret eighth continent Avatar (2009).  Diavolo heard great things about the Flight of Passage ride, but he totally forgot to tell Barbatos about it, so they’re stuck on a three hour wait line now.

Levi takes Luke on the Everest roller coaster because Simeon saw it in the distance and looked like he was about to cry.  Levi wouldn’t shut up about how the yeti effect needs to be fixed and Solomon had to explain that the effect literally couldn’t support itself.

Simeon, having escaped a roller coaster for the first and only time on this trip, grabs lunch with Lucifer and Solomon and they enjoy the Lion King performance together.  Solomon’s the only one of them who’s seen the movie, but the others still found it fun.  Solomon keeps making up random plot points that don’t exist, though.  Remember when Simba was captured by pirates?

Mammon found the Bugs Life show very scary.  Normally Asmo would laugh at him, but he’s afraid of any bug he’s never seen before and at least Mammon was afraid of the things that were supposed to get you.  They agree that bugs are still not their friends.

Satan has many things to say about the Dinosaur ride and most of them aren’t good.  Belphie thought it was pretty ok, though.  Lucifer can’t believe there was a sobering lesson on a global extinction event at this family-friendly amusement park.

Diavolo is still in line.  Barbatos abandons him.  He accompanies Luke to the kiddie fossil thing and actually finds it more tolerable.  Oh yeah that’s the other secret ninth continent, Dinoland.

Beel and Belphie spend most of the day together at the various petting zoos.  Belphie comes back knowing more than he ever wanted to about conservation.  He thought Rafiki’s Planet Watch was going to be about watching other planets, not this one!

Asmo gets very interested in the costumes of the performers, as well as the parrots in the bird show.  He could probably make some really colorful designs with those as inspiration.

Nearby, Mammon runs into Kevin and squawks in surprise.  The zoo staff spend the next two hours trying to find the bird that escaped.

Diavolo says the ride was worth it, don’t worry.

Honestly this park has a lot of stuff that wouldn’t translate well to a funny scenario post so this part might be a little short compared to the others.  I can only talk about a zoo for so long.

Anyone remember the Honey I Shrunk the Kids 4D show?  Apparently it closed in 2016 to make room for more Star Wars stuff.

Anyway, at the center of it all there’s the Tree of Life, which is really pretty all day.  Lucifer is thrilled to have a decently obvious meet-up place, too.  They get to catch the brief awakening show at night.

They’re very bummed to learn the Rivers of Light show isn’t happening anymore, so Levi pulls it up on his phone so they can watch it in spirit.

Then Satan learns about the Wilderness Explorers badges and the others spend the rest of the time preventing too much collateral damage over the fact that nobody told him.

Day 3: Epcot

Finally, Lucifer thinks.  Boo, Luke thinks.

Beel didn’t expect this park to be that interesting to him (he’s much more into the wonder and immersion of Hollywood Studios and Magic Kingdom), but then he learned about the restaurants.  China, Norway, France, Mexico, Germany, Morocco, Italy, Japan, Canada--Canada?  Huh.  Canada.  There’s so many different restaurants from so many cuisines to try, and yeah he knows that it’s definitely not the same as going to the place and it’s overpriced (sorry Lucifer), but it’s all right there.  He makes certain to take MC on a deluxe Epcot restaurant tour.

Oh yeah MC.  That’s the first time we’ve heard from them in a while.  They’re doing whatever you want them to I guess.

Levi buys so much from the Japanese gift shops that he has to go back to the hotel for a bit to drop his bags off.

Satan and Diavolo aren’t much better, but their stashes are more varied.

Also, Diavolo found Mouse Gear, and bought everyone a pair of ears.  Lucifer says that everyone has to keep them on because it’s what Lord Diavolo wants, but he is by far the most upset about them.  Mammon snaps a picture and Lucifer throws his DDD into the lake.

Asmo and Belphie decide they’re gonna take it easy this day, and they nab Solomon and Barbatos for some exhibition hopping.

Luke finds Mission Space and please father no Simeon thought he was safe he thought he was safe here no please

Aside from that, though, Luke honestly finds this part of the park boring.  He’d have been more interested in these attractions elsewhere, but as a kid he’s in Disney for roller coasters and Mickey Mouse.

Simeon is very grateful that Luke doesn’t have much that he wants to do, because it means that he can enjoy the Gran Fiesta and Living with the Land boat rides and have a single moment where he doesn’t feel like he’s about to be sick.  He’s not even afraid of the rides; he just gets motion sick easily.

Asmo makes sure to see the Chinese acrobat show, and Mammon catches that with the show-hopping gang since there isn’t much he wants to do here either.

Epcot has alcohol and Solomon hasn’t been able to drink in ages so he really wants to spend some time doing that with MC.  No demons allowed, thank you very much.  He doesn’t hold his liquor as well as he’d like you to believe, but he just gets really talkative when drunk so it’s ok.

Epcot is a nice day to take a breather and Lucifer and Barbatos definitely needed a breather before tomorrow.

Day 4: Magic Kingdom

This is the day Diavolo has been waiting for.  The crème de la crop, the best park for kids and kids in a future king of the Devildom’s body.

Also I feel like now is a good time to mention that this probably isn’t a reasonable order of events because I don’t remember the map layout of these places idk Disney city planning

This time.  This time, Levi, Asmo and Beel are gonna get those autographs, dammit.  Levi doesn’t even know who half of these characters are but hell if he’s not getting their autograph.

Mammon actually really loves the mascots too, but he’s embarrassed about it so he’ll only try to get one if he can use the guise of MC wanting one.  MC, please help him out

Belphie isn’t big on rides, but he does have a soft spot for the more retro ones like Dumbo and Seven Dwarves.  And like I said before, Beel loves Magic Kingdom for its wonder.  So Belphie is perfectly happy being led (read: piggybacked) around by Beel today, because their favorite attractions match up pretty well here.

Actually, Beel’s favorite Disney movie is Lilo and Stitch, but.  RIP Stitch’s Great Escape ride 2004-2018

Diavolo and Lucifer take a moment to enjoy the Carousel of Progress, and they reflect on how much the Human World is always changing and how much about it they still don’t know.  It really does make them think, like.  Grandma found the VR games at Christmas!  The Devildom doesn’t have grandmas!

Mammon is terrified of the Haunted Mansion ride, and Satan has literally never felt so much schadenfreude in his life.

Mammon’s afraid of most rides to be fair, but he likes water rides, so Levi eventually takes pity on him and they go on Splash Mountain together more than once.

The Peter Pan ride broke down

Luke wanted to go on Space Mountain and Simeon was the only one around, so.  RIP Simeon ????-2021

Diavolo was That Guy.  If you know, you know.

Beel accidentally spun the teacups way too fast.  Not even Solomon got out of that one unscathed.

Following that, Solomon manages to drag Barbatos onto the Jungle Cruise while Lucifer is busy.  What is Lucifer busy with?  Riding the Buzz Lightyear shooting ride over and over until he hits every single target and gets a perfect score at a Disney ride, something that is normal to want and possible to achieve.  Anyway, Barbatos finds it really charming and Solomon finds it a nice break that he didn’t know he needed.

While looking for a food place that sells water for a reasonable price, a kid runs up to Asmo asking for a picture and autograph.  He’s kind of confused, but goes along with it to make the kid happy.

Turns out, Asmo’s so naturally charming that they mistook him for a prince.  Other groups see that family and follow suit.  Mammon eventually catches wind of it and shows up to charge a fee.  The parents are pretty sure Disney doesn’t charge fees like that, but their kids really want a pic with Asmo so they hand over the two bucks.  (“Oh it’s so low” come on Mammon’s not a dick to children.)

And that’s the story of how Mammon and Asmo ended up in Disney Jail.  You’re very much not allowed to pretend to be a cast member and then charge money for it.  Lucifer has to bail them out as their “guardian,” and as punishment they aren’t allowed to opt out of It’s a Small World.

Small World isn’t that bad imho, and those like Diavolo, Satan, Simeon, and Levi would like it a lot.  But Lucifer has been playing parent all day, Belphie does not like the noise, and Solomon has literally been on this ride at least fifty times.  Very mixed feelings on this one, but it feels fitting to end with that and a fireworks show.

All in all though this wasn’t the worst trip Lucifer’s been on (cue everyone applauding for some reason).

Barbatos by far had the least fun of them all because for four days he was stuck in a park where the mascot is a fucking rodent and he wasn’t allowed to annihilate Mickey Mouse where he stood

“Disneyland Devildom when” “Lord Diavolo, no”

Masterlist

[cayenne-twilight]

Professor Layton Iceberg Explanation

As I said in the tags of the original, the iceberg I made was a meme consisting of both real theories and satire/parodies/fandom memes. If anyone is interested, I can work on an unironic version that only has real theories.

Buckle in because this post is LONG and heavily saturated with lore and information.

Actual theories

Parallel universe 1960s where the world wars didn’t happen. There’s an unused file in Curious Village that shows the year as 1960 and the time machine from UF is set to 1973, ten years into the future. The series canonically takes place in an undefined time period (hence the technological inaccuracies and fantasy elements), but it’s based off the 60s. There’s more evidence but we don’t have time to go over every little thing. I linked my “no wars” theory below but TL;DR the outdated airplanes and underdeveloped medicine in the Layton series imply that the world wars may never have happened. https://cayenne-twilight.tumblr.com/post/632205992162099200/outofcontextdiscord-timegearremix-zonosils-war

The real meaning behind the statue in Future London. In UF, the purpose of the statue is to spark Layton and Luke’s conversation about their friendship. Luke is stressing out about moving overseas and sees himself and the professor in the story behind the statue, but in the bigger picture, Clive must have been the one to commission it. Some theorize that the little boy is Clive and the man is either his father or the professor. One idea I’ve seen is that Clive wishes he could be Luke for real, while another is that he wishes he died ten years ago, and another is that he’s literally terminally ill explaining why he doesn’t care about consequence. Personally, I think “the boy succumbed to his illness” refers to his mental illness seeing as he wanted the professor to save him from his madness as he saved him all those years ago.

True location of Monte D’Or. there are no deserts on the British isles to my knowledge, so it makes the most sense for Monte D’Or to be in Southwest USA where English is the default language, they have a desert, and there exists a city famous for flashy hotels, casinos, and entertainment. What makes it odd is that nobody ever mentions overseas travel, and all the major characters are from England.

Loosha’s origins are not explicitly explained if I remember correctly, but the implication was that her prehistoric (supposedly) species was sealed away along with the garden, allowing them to survive all the way to the time of LS until Loosha was the only one left. The garden provided a good habitat and protection from predators, and it’s logical that they’d slowly die out anyways, but there’s no explanation of any specific factors that led to Loosha being the last.

Beasley is not a bee I wrote a post about this one as well, but TL;DR Beasly lacks several defining bee traits whilst having several human ones. He is not human, yet, by definition, not a bee. It’s possible that he is the result of Dimitri’s testing, but whatever his untold story is, he remains an enigma of nature. https://cayenne-twilight.tumblr.com/post/632381715250282496/theory-beasly-isnt-a-bee

Subject 2’s identity is currently unknown. There is a subject one (parrot) and subject 3 (rabbit) so there has to be a second. For a long time, people suspected Beasly to be him seeing as he’s a bit of an amalgamation and definitely not a regular bee (see above). After the release of LMJ, though, people began to suspect Sherl, the intelligent hound who could speak to certain people but not others. That being said, it’s possible for one to be subject 4. Sherl’s memory of a bright flash matches up with subject 3’s memory of being electrocuted. They never explain why the animals were being experimented on, but it was probably Dimitri making sure the conditions of his machine were safe for humans before reliving the incident from ten years ago.

Lady Violet died from the plague from DB. There’s no evidence for this or anything, it’s just an idea. People say she died from the flu but I don’t remember them saying that in the game, at least the US version. Extending off my “no war” theory: it’s theorized that the Spanish Flu was spread by the travlelling soldiers, so if that’s true, it’s possible for the epidemic to have been averted for some decades. Maybe the Spanish Flu reached England later than in real life. The hole in this is that DB’s plague must’ve been close in time to 1918 while Violet’s death was much later, so it would’ve had to stick around.

Bill Hawks is working with Targent and Arthur Cantabella. There was a force in the shadows buying the time machine technology from Bill. Someone with a ton of money who helped him cover up a freak accident and get away with it completely, a feat that involved shady means like violence by hired thugs. Some theorize that it was Targent, seeking power over time in exchange for a little mafia magic. The Labarynthia project was sponsored by the UK government, so as the PM, Bill must’ve known about it. He probably supported dubiously ethical, high stakes (witch pun) psychological experiments like Cantabella’s and helped him stay in the shadows.

All the NPCs in St. Mystere and Folsense are dead. I make fun of this type of theory later, but they’re admittedly captivating. I’m pretty sure the canon in CV is that the villagers are Bruno and Augustus’s OCs that they made robots of and built a town around, but it’s more interesting to think that the village was there before, and the townspeople died of a plague and were replaced like Lady Violet. In Folsense, there really was a plague and they never explain the NPCs there. They’re either real people who appear way younger than they are due to hallucinations (even the ones who already look old ?), or they don’t exist at all, which is pretty spooky. This part of the story is a gaping plot hole. In a similar vein to CV, the edgy yet plausible theory is that they used to live in Folsense but died of the plague and now live on as hallucinations.

Hershel seeing everything as a puzzle is a coping mechanism for all his trauma. This was a joke but I thought about it for more than five seconds and it makes way too much sense.

Plot holes and unexplained questions that we like to overthink because it’s fun

The downfall of the Azran was vaguely explained in canon by people being so greedy that it lead to the civilization collapsing. It’s not a stretch to imagine that happening, but it would’ve been more interesting with a little more detail.

Layton and Luke are programmed to routinely forget how to walk. I didn’t know whether to list this in the joke section or not, but it’s odd that the characters actively participate in the walking tutorial (as opposed to showing a little memo to the player) as if they didn’t know how to before, especially when they go through this several times a year.

The truth behind Pavel. He’s simply a joke character who teleports, is a polyglot (sort of, at least he wants us to think he is) and is mega confused all the time. He’s a fun character to make crack theories about because of his cryptic nature that even he doesn’t seem to understand.

Miracle Mask deleted scenes. The first trailer for MM featured animations that were not in the final game. One was the Randall falling scene, except in a slightly different style than the one we know. Others were completely foreign, like Layton and Luke pacing across a theatre stage as if Layton’s about to expose someone with a dramatic point. Cut content and “could’ve beens” are always curious to think about.

Evan Barde: secret mastermind. Arianna and Tony’s dad is a mysterious character who died under mysterious circumstances. I think the canon is that his death was a genuine accident, but concept art of him making a creepy evil face suggests that maybe he originally had a larger role in the first drafts of LS than the finished game.

The secret to how Paul and Des pull off their disguises is unclear and will remain unclear. There is no plausible explanation for their shape shifting. Unless Paul is just a little dude wearing a human suit like that one Wizard of Oz species and Des is the best quick-changer ever and hides his naturally feminine legs under his cloak.

Alfendi’s mom. When LBMR came out people scrambled to piece together who Hershel had a kid with, but there’s no way alfendi is his biological son. This happened with Kat as well and her biological parents turned out to be brand new characters, so I’m sure Al will get an adoption backstory if his arc continues, be his parents old major characters or nameless, faceless NPCs.

Granny Riddleton and Stachenscarfen are omnipotent deities. Idk which section this fits best under, but these two characters have some serious power. At first introduction, they’re implied to be robots, but they appear everywhere in later games. They follow the Professor wherever he goes and assist him on his adventures, GR collecting puzzles and housing them by some odd magic, and Stachen teaches you how to walk. They both introduce and supervise the gameplay. By extension, I guess this idea could apply to Albus as well in the prequels. GR and Stachen even had the power to appear in LMJ, something no major character could do. I consider them akin to the velvet room attendants from the Persona games.

Clive’s kill count is a vague subject in the game for the sake of keeping it PG. I don’t know if anyone’s ever mathematically estimated the damage he caused, and I sure don’t want to try, but the game appears to push the idea that he didn’t kill anyone at all, saying they stopped him in the nick of time and things like that, even though we watch him raze the city. If they ever want to bring him back post-time skip, I can see them twisting it so that the mobile fortress cutscene wasn’t a linear sequence of events, but instead a compilation of scenes over the course of hours so that London neighborhoods around him could be evacuated and have it make sense. Knowing Level-5, it’s more likely that they wouldn’t think this deep and do something more lazy, though.

Memes and references

Post-time skip Flora is real references the famous L is real theory from Super Mario 64. Like Luigi in SM64, Flora was also a highly anticipated character who didn’t appear in a new game, in this case LMJ or LMDA. In the end, Luigi did become real in the DS port so hopefully Flora is real will be realized as well.

Hershel can’t read is a veteran fandom meme referring to how in the first few games, especially Curious Village, Layton asks Luke to read every document out loud for him. Perhaps this was an exercise to improve Luke’s reading skills and independent thinking, or perhaps he was just too lazy or preoccupied to do it himself, but this grew into the joke that our genius Professor was actually illiterate this whole time.

Layton’s smash invitation is hidden in PLvsAA. It’s no secret that the fandom would kill a man to get the Professor into the smash brothers franchise. In PLvsAA one of the puzzle artworks features a goat eating a familiar white envelope with a red stamp, sparking the joke that either Layton or Wright got the invitation their respective fans desired, but it got lost along the way.

The science board is the mysteriously vague organization Don Paolo got kicked out of for the crime of being evil. It’s the epitome of liberal arts majors and art school graduates trying to bs their way around not knowing any science and failing miserably. “He was very good at all the sciences, but then the CEO of science told him to stop because he was using the power of science for evil science”. They do this again when “Dr. Stahngun” describes his time machine what with the soolha coils and whatnot.

Hoogland is death cult initiation is a parody of “Mario 64 is Freemason initiation” which is ridiculous, just like the creepy human sacrifice subplot of AL.

You can see the reflection of someone watching you in Aurora’s eye references the famous, creepy Talking Angela theory. In retrospect it would’ve been funnier if I said Angela instead of Aurora.

Every copy of Professor Layton is personalized references the famous “every copy of Super Mario 64 is personalized”

Clive’s fat ass in HD is a meme that originated from the announcement of UFHD, saying that half of the excited fans wanted to cry again while the other half were simply attracted to Clive. If we want to enter real bottom-section-of-the-iceberg-chart territory then let’s say Clive’s character has some sort of psychological siren properties that draw people to him like a magnet and/or Harry Styles.

Things I pulled out of my ass for shits and giggles

Infinite hint coin hack: I’m sure a tech savvy cheater could hack the game for infinite hint coins, but there’s no easy or interesting way. I don’t know why someone would do that though, considering a lot of the hints suck and there are puzzle guides on the internet.

Cringy, unused Randall villain monologue. This joke is derived from the actual scrapped MM content as well as deleted content being a popular element of iceberg charts, but it’s sadly not real. Would’ve been hilarious, though.

Last Specter Puzzle 031: Light Height tracks and records children’s intelligence level. It doesn’t, but it’s always fun to make fun of arguably THE most ridiculously difficult puzzle in the franchise. (Seriously, do they expect 7+ year olds to know trigonometry???)

Hershel struggles with tea addiction. Hershel from the games drinks tea in moderation, but the manga begs to differ. He has a tea set in the Laytonmobile, and an attempt at teatime while driving causes him to crash.

Folsense is a metaphor for Alzheimer’s. This is inspired by those edgy kids’ show theories where everyone’s in hell or something, but nobody has ever said this.

London Life is reality and the plot of the games is all in Luke’s head. That’s one way to fill every plot hole. How funny would it be if Luke made up crazy characters and stories based off his fellow townspeople Sharkboy and Lavagirl style. “This dude who lives in a castle and asks people to give him all their money for nothing in return is a vampire from 50 years ago involved in a tragic love story”.

Secret ending encoded into Tago’s Head Gymnastics. It’d be crazy if there was, and Dimitri would hound Tago for the secret to time travel. If you didn’t know, the Layton games started as an adaption of Akira Tago’s puzzle series, except they decided to add a story to make it more interesting and marketable.

Daily puzzles datamine your DS. I’m bad with technology but is it even possible to datamine a DS??? Idk, but I think my DS lite from 2008 is safe.

[yan-twst]

OMG 1000 is a big number cONGRATULATIONS ! mmmM i was thinking, maybe yandere!scarabia & octavinelle with a genie! s/o ? they have the lamp like in aladdin :o

warnings: general yandere content, implied violence (in floyd’s part)

kalim al-asim

there’s been tales of genies in lamps for years in the land hot sands- there’s plenty of myths and stories he grew up hearing. of course, the chance of actually finding such an artifact were slim, nearing to impossible

so stumbling into a lamp and accidentally unleashing a genie was needless to say, a huge shock. of course, with his happy and cheery attitude, he didn’t waste any time in befriending the genie- honestly, his three wishes are pushed to the back of his mind

at first, he’s eager to show this genie the outside world. how long has it been since they saw the world? have they ever been in a huge feast? kalim says he wants to show them the world- although it’s quite clear to everyone else he’s enjoying their company a bit too much

a human courting a genie is just... unheard of. kalim’s genie is confused, but oh, he’s so sweet! they really can’t sense any dark intentions from him; and he doesn’t, really. the twisted love that blooms in his heart isn’t a bad intention, it’s simply how he loves

kalim takes full advantage of the fact his darling has been stuck to his side since they were awakened, even without he himself realizing it. they trust him; his affection seems to be so pure they can’t help but return it, he’s gifting them jewelry and silk  despite them being the genie, he doesn’t even mention his wishes...

... which is how it’s just so easy to be slowly entrapped by him. oh, genies are cunning and smart: genies are supposed to outsmart greedy humans, to twist their wishes around and make them suffer by their own words. but kalim isn’t greedy, he isn’t one of those slimy creeps who try to use a genie to cheat and win at life... and so his gentle and cheery demeanor is what it takes to slowly isolate and drive his darling into a corner

when they realize what he’s doing- keeping their lamp away from them, keeping them quite literally locked in like some sort of housepet- they panic. they should be in control here. they have to give him his wishes so they can leave. but nothing can compare to the look of hurt in kalim’s face when his genie finally tells him to just go and make his wishes

“if i make three wishes, won’t you leave...? i don’t want you to leave.” kalim is serious when he says this. he doesn’t care what he could wish for (he has wealth, he has friends, he’s happy). all he wants is them. he wants them, he wants to love them; he’s become hopelessly attached

it’s a tricky situation. kalim’s hidden their lamp god knows where, claiming it’s “to keep it safe”, he’s blocked off all escape routes, and they’re technically still his, he is their master until all his wishes are completed. he keeps acting as if nothing’s weird- he almost treats them as if they were just a human lover, happily talking about the future he’ll share with them

there’s still hope, right...? kalim’s genie can only hold onto the hope that as years pass, greed will corrupt the heir and he’ll give in and cash in his wishes, and that’ll free them. of course he won’t, he isn’t the sort of person who’d do that- they... know him well enough now, to be able to know he’s just not the kind of man who’d be so easily swayed. 

perhaps it’s better this way. they’re not human, but kalim seems to be trying to ignore that. if they press too much- if they try to tell him it’s just not how things should be, genies aren’t supposed to be kept around like this- it’s not going to accomplish anything. kalim may be gentle, but he’s possessive. if anything, they might get him to use up one single wish; and he’ll wish for them to stay with him forever, as his lover for the rest of his life.

jamil viper

like kalim, he’s grown up hearing stories about genies in lamps found in the land of hot sands. he also knows how cunning and sharp genies are in the stories; how wishes are turned around, how they make it so someone’s dearest wish backfires

so of course, when he accidentally unleashes a genie when cleaning what he thought was just an oil lamp forgotten in a corner of the treasury, jamil knows better than to immediately give in to his impulse of using his wishes

jamil may even taunt the genie- do they think he’s just going to foolishly make a wish and let them twist his own words against him? he also relishes on how the genie refers to him as a master; it’s... truly a nice change for once

he’s quite shocked that the genie isn’t like those described in myths. they aren’t an old or ghostly looking figure; especially once they’re entirely out of the lamp, they actually look just like any other human. if it weren’t for the slightly outdated jewelry, they wouldn’t look too out of place... they’re quite pretty, really...

jamil tells himself he’s keeping them around because he wants to “think out his wishes properly”. and it is true, he wants to make sure his three wishes are all perfect, but... he cannot deny how nice it is to have someone who’s objectively his. he is the superior here, he’s the master

is it... can he be in love with a genie? they do look so human; they’re so cute with how they try to pressure him into making his wishes, all the while trying to be respectful to their master. he adores how they squirm when he threatens to lock away or destroy their lamp if they keep telling him to hurry and make his wishes, how they’re always so grateful when he brings them food despite them not needing it

finally, jamil has his wishes done. it takes months of pondering; they have to be perfectly worded, he can’t have his darling little genie tricking him, can he? boiled down, his wishes are quite simple: he wants the viper family to be released from servitude to the al-asim family, he wants to be powerful and independent in the future, and...

oh, and he wants to own them and keep them by his side forever. he makes it quite clear- they’re going to be his lover, they’ll be nice and obedient, and do as he acts. after all, he’ll make sure to remember them that he’s still their master; not being allowed to leave despite the wishes being done, being kept in his room as some sort of housepet

azul ashengrotto

a genie in a lamp, a nearly divine creature who can grant any wish... when he was younger, that would have been azul’s dearest wish; however, now that he’s older, he takes more pride in the fact he got where he is with his own work

so finding a magic lamp all of a sudden is... jarring. he’s long past the days he’d wish for a genie or some divine intervention to make his wishes come true, to not be mocked or bullied; so when he’s asked to make three wishes... he doesn’t know

instead, he sees an opportunity. not only are genies a rare find, but this particular genie is just so beautiful; he’s careful with his words. while he thinks of his wishes, won’t they stick around? perhaps help around the lounge? it would be quite an unique experience, wouldn’t it?

he keeps the lamp locked away, trying to distract them from the fact. he’s advertising their appearance, flaunting the “real genie working in the lounge”, showing them off in the clothes and jewelry they came with when they came out the lamp

it’s easy for azul to become obsessed with them. they can grant any wish to anyone, but they’re his, he controls them now. If he has them, nobody else does. It’s his business to make deals to make people’s wishes come true- it wouldn’t be good for him to let them go, right...? 

his smooth talking is good enough to be able to make requests and convince them to do as he pleases without it quite counting as a wish. it flusters and stresses them out, but to azul, he doesn’t mind

he becomes possessive over them; to the point he’ll attempt to use ‘it’s a deal’ on their ability to grant wishes. they don’t need that; they have him!

he doesn’t want them to be able to go, to be able to leave him. his wanting to keep them around for business reasons slowly becomes him craving their attention and approval. he’ll only ever use one wish: they cannot leave him, ever.

jade leech

oho, a genie? what a curious happenstance. jade seems to take the situation with his usual calm and tempered attitude

perhaps he’s so gentlemanly and perfect, that when the genie first looks at him, there’s no way for them to imagine the way this gentle-faced man will make things go

at first, jade acts innocent. so they’re a genie? how interesting- so they can grant wishes? oh, three wishes then? what are the terms? the conditions? of course he already knows the answers- myths and stories about genies are common- but it’s clear it’s working. he can tell the genie seems to be happy to explain, maybe even charmed by his ‘naivety’

jade plays his cards slowly. he’ll figure out what his genie knows and doesn’t, how long they’ve been stuck inside the lamp; oh, it must have been so lonely there! he takes his time acting like the sweetest gentleman to them, lowering their guard

 and then he makes his first wish

they aren’t allowed to leave or disobey him, ever

the panic is almost immediate when he says this. he’s been a perfect gentleman, a kind master- so why now does he make this wish all of a sudden-?

once he’s made sure that he’s got them where he wants them, jade indulges in his lover. yes, they’re his lover now; it’s not like they have much choice

if they disobey, then he has no trouble shoving them back into the lamp- perhaps he’ll do so when he can’t keep his eye on them, taunting them and making them suffer

they’ve gotten so used to being around jade, of living in the world, being left back in the lamp is suddenly jarring. it’s so lonely, so cold; even though they should be furious at him, they cannot help but suddenly feel calm when he lets them out, when they’re in another being’s presence once again, even if it’s the man forcing them to play the part of his lover

floyd leech

waaah, what’s this? a genie? why’re they hiding in a lamp, like a hermit crab? that’s quite funny, isn’t it?

floyd’s first instinct is to just squish ‘em in a hug. little hermit crab is just sooo cute! why were they hiding in there, all alone?

when a very flustered genie explains they’re actually supposed to grant him three wishes and not, uh, be hugged around, floyd isn’t particularly surprised

three wishes, huh? hmm, sounds interesting

he’ll blow his first two wishes in random, useless things. maybe he’ll wish to run into riddle just to tease him, or maybe he’ll wish the cafeteria will serve his favourite food

... but he doesn’t want to make his last wish

floyd doesn’t stop hugging and being handsy with his genie- or as he calls them, his hermit crab- he can’t let go of them! they’re the perfect little plaything!

and suddenly he just refuses to make the last wish and let them go. they try to ask nicely; doesn’t he have another wish? he can ask for anything, they’ll make it come true!

and suddenly floyd holds them by the neck, eyes darkened- why do they want to leave him so badly? why does his hermit crab want to disappear from his life? don’t they know once he makes his third wish they’ll be gone? do they think he’ll let them?

floyd can be violent in impulse, and it’s clear that they have to tread carefully. trying to press him into making another wish, into freedom, is a ticket to having their ribs painfully crushed in his embrace

stuck as his plaything- a powerful genie, capable of making any wish come true- except the wish for their own wish of freedom

[mandowh0re]

Remember Me

Chapter 2

Summary: While cleaning up the timelines that he broke, Loki meets and inevitably loses the one person that’s understood him in life. But he’s not losing you without a fight.

A/N: Another chapter within a week?? More likely than you think! Beta'd by the ever beautiful @edgyvege. Go show her some love!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2303

Happy Reading!

Loki’s lying in his bed, clutching the book you had loaned him close to his chest.

He finished the book the first night of having it, and he regrets not pacing himself because he still has six days before he can see you again and isn’t sure how to keep himself sane until then. He doesn’t have much to his name anymore, having missed eleven years of his life and his home having been destroyed. So it’s not like he can turn to his favorite books or activities.

The Avengers had reluctantly agreed, mostly out of guilt because of Thor’s previous loss, to let Loki stay in the compound under the condition that he did not leave, did not use his magic unsupervised, and did not cause chaos. It had been an incredibly difficult adjustment, especially on his part, but he was willing to do whatever it took to see you again. So he did not complain even once.

When Loki had returned from timeline 656, the timeline in which he first met you, he was broken but determined. He was on a mission and refused to get distracted until his job was done. He had to find you again. He didn’t know what he was going to do if he didn’t.

So when Mobius agreed to bring Loki to this point of the timeline, he had given Loki the information to be able to find you.

You were his insurance, a way to make sure Loki stayed in his place.

So after two weeks of near perfect behavior and constant sulking from the trickster, Steve and Tony agreed that Loki could leave the compound, though only under Thor’s supervision.

When he first saw you again in that tiny bookstore, he felt like he had been hit in the chest by Thor’s hammer. He thought he was prepared to see you again. Your bright eyes and soft lips were all he could think about the past several months. But apparently, he wasn’t prepared in the slightest.

But you being you, you gave him a sweet smile and kindly helped him find the book you had told him about when the two of you had first met back in timeline 656. Because no matter the timeline, you were always one to help others.

And then you did something he wasn’t expecting. The possibility wasn’t even on his radar. You gave him your own copy to read, telling him it was so he had to come back and see you. He felt his chest constrict in that moment, yet at the same time a spark of hope exploded inside of him. It was something that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Then when you asked him for his name, his heart broke again.

He had forgotten to even give you his name, because he had already known yours. Your name, your scent, your favorite laugh, your body.

He knew it all.

Yet you knew nothing about him. And after telling you his name, he was afraid you’d remember what he’d done to your city all those years ago. That you’d be afraid of him and reject him, just like most everyone else in his life. He wouldn’t blame you. He believed himself a monster, just like everyone else did.

But he kept himself from spiraling into his dark thoughts with the sole knowledge that the version of you in timeline 656 wasn’t scared of him. Not even before he explained to you what had really happened.

No, you had accepted him, helped him, and eventually loved him.

He could only hope that this version of you could do the same.

***

The day you met Loki, you were a bit shell shocked.

He left almost immediately after telling you his name, and you watched as he met up with a much larger blonde man before walking away. It took your brain one too many seconds to realize the blonde was Thor, making Loki the actual Loki. The Loki that reigned chaos and destruction to your beloved city all those years ago.

A few pieces of information struck you throughout the day, startling you each time:

Number one; you had actually hit on a literal god. The God of Mischief, no less.

Number two; he actually flirted back! What the fuck?

Number three; he never asked for your name.

And number four; you weren’t scared of him. More than that, you weren’t even angry with him.

You couldn’t for the life of you figure out why. Why he didn’t intimidate you. Why you felt as if you understood him. Or why you felt like you knew him, more intimately than just having heard of him. You had only spoken to the man once, for crying out loud.

The week passes by incredibly slowly, and every time you think about your interaction or of seeing Loki again, butterflies come to life in your belly and a smile slowly comes across your face.

But today is finally the day.

It’s a quarter past eleven when the door to the shop opens, the small wind chime signaling someone had entered. You look up from your current read and see Loki taking a few short steps to the counter. He’s dressed to the nines again, wearing a dark grey suit with minimal green accents.

He looks positively delicious, and you curse yourself for letting that thought slip. You slide your bookmark into your novel before setting it on a small shelf behind you.

“Hey! You came back!” You say, your voice a few pitches higher than usual. You really weren’t expecting him to actually return the book himself. In fact, you weren’t sure what you expected at all.

He nods, “Of course, darling. I wanted to see you again,” his voice is deep and his eyes are trained on yours, “And discuss the book, obviously,” He lifts the loved copy in his hand, held between his nimble fingers.

Warmth blooms in your chest and you smile shyly. Your eyes flicker to the window where you saw Thor waiting last week.

“Where’s your chaperone?”

Loki raises a brow, glancing to the window next to him.

“I saw Thor meet you when you left last week.”

Realization dawns on Loki’s face, “Ah, yes. I must be accompanied by my brother at all times outside of the Avengers Compound. It is a term of my arrangement.”

“Arrangement?” You ask, cocking your head slightly.

For a moment, Loki falters. He’s said too much, explaining his situation could cause more questions to arise, and he did not need that right now. Because how in the nine realms would he answer them?

So instead of answering, he sets the book on the counter in between the two of you and smiles, “Nothing for you to concern yourself, dear. I would much rather talk about the blatant misinformation contained in this book.”

His tone is light and playful, so you laugh and pull the book closer to you, “Misinformation? You mean to tell me that you didn’t give birth to a horse?”

Loki rolls his eyes, “Gods, no! I did no such thing. Nor am I the father of Fenrir, Jormungandr, or Hela.” He makes a disgusted face.

“That’s a shame,” You fake pout, “You just ruined my favorite book for me.”

He scoffs, “Darling, I am the living, breathing version of the character in your book. How could a novel be more interesting than the real deal?”

You look at him, a mischievous glint in your eye, and Loki feels his heart jump in his throat. He’s seen that look before. The way your nose crinkles just slightly, causing your eyebrows to scrunch, barely noticeable. There’s a sparkle in your eye, one that tells Loki every time that you’re up to no good.

It was one of the many reasons he fell so hard for you.

“You’re very handsome, I’ll give you that. But I just think Book Loki has more layers. Ya know?”

Normally, if you had made a comment like that, Loki would have pinned you against a wall and put you in your place.

But that was another time. One that Loki desperately hoped would come to him once more.

“Well, I think that if you come to know me better, you shall see I am much more… Complex than you humans have made me out to be.” His voice has lowered a few tones, sweet and smooth like honey.

He’s closer now, leaning over with his forearms on the counter, and you feel a warmth spread across your belly. You curse yourself and discreetly press your thighs together.

But unbeknownst to you, Loki knew every single one of your mannerisms, quirks, and habits. And by default, he saw the little movement you made, and had to use his glamour to hide the way his body reacted.

Conversation flowed from there, banter flying back and forth, your quick wit almost matching his.

It somehow felt normal to you. Comfortable. It was bizarre and pleasant at the same time.

But for Loki, it was just a painful reminder of what he lost so many months ago.

Before he knew it, there was a single knock against the front window, signaling that his time was up. The both of you glanced up to see Thor, dressed in jeans and a casual cotton jacket, peeking inside.

Loki sighs, “While I wish I could stay longer and chat, I fear I must take my leave.” He stands from the chair you had pulled up next to you and straightens his jacket.

Your heart drops slightly, not wanting him to leave, and you stand with him.

“Well, how about I give you another book to read?”

“I was already planning on coming back,” He smirks, tilting slightly downward, “But I shan’t turn down a chance to read a book.”

“Good, because I love this one too.” You tell him, grabbing the book from your stash. You rip a piece of receipt paper from the small printer and quickly scribble on it, then tuck it into the front cover.

“And my name is Y/N, by the way. I didn’t get a chance to tell you last week.”

Loki smiles and takes the book from you, walking towards the door.

“Well, Y/N, it has been a pleasure. I shall see you again next week.”

***

“Brother, I see you have another book.” Thor says as he moves to walk alongside Loki, who was already reading the book summary.

Loki only makes a hum of acknowledgment, but doesn’t say anything.

They walk in silence towards the secluded alley where Loki can transport them back to the compound without curious eyes.

The silence is comfortable, yet eerie. Thor is still recovering from the shock of having Loki back, though it wasn’t the same Loki he lost on that forsaken ship.

And Loki… He’s just trying to wrap his head around everything that has happened. Everything he missed because he jumped from 2012 to 2021. He didn’t get to say goodbye to Frigga. He didn’t get to have a last look at Asgard. And now the one woman Loki is sure he cannot live without, doesn’t remember him.

They get back to the compound without incident, and Loki heads back to his room like he always does, choosing to interact with the Avengers as little as possible, lest there be a fight.

He tilts his head up slightly, eyes screwed shut and fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, “Friday, is it? Where is the spider child?”

“Peter is in the penthouse. Would you like me to relay a message to him?”

Loki bites his lip. Is he really going to do this?

Yes, he supposes he is.

“Can you ask him to come to my quarters?”

“Of course.”

Loki paces, waiting for Peter. After several minutes, there’s a tentative knock at the door.

“Come in.”

It opens slowly, revealing a confused Peter.

“Hey, Friday said you asked for me?”

“Yes.” Loki nods, then hands the boy a small piece of paper.

The same paper you put into the book earlier in the day.

Peter, now fully in the room, takes the paper and shoots a curious glance at Loki, before reading.

~

I don’t know if you have a cell phone, or even know what one is.

But if you do, feel free to text or call me :)

555-555-5555

-Y/N

~

“If you tell anyone about this, I shall have your head.” Loki hisses, but there’s no heat behind it. Peter is one of the few humans Loki cares about dearly. The little shit had somehow managed to weasel his way into Loki’s notoriously cold heart within the first week.

And Peter knew this.

“Yeah, yeah,” He smirks, “Why are you showing it to me in the first place?”

“While I know what a cell phone is, I am unsure about how to acquire one. That is where you come in.”

Peter’s eyes light up, “Oh, this is going to be so much fun!”

Loki crosses his arms, fearing he may come to regret this.

***

“What do you want?”

“It’s been a while. Nice hearing your voice.”

“The feeling isn’t mutual.”

“Ouch.”

“Answer my question.”

“I want you to join us, of course. Thought that was clear by now.”

“Fuck off.”

“Well, figured I’d try... Anyways, I received word that Loki is back on Earth.”

“Not sure why you think I care, or how this concerns me.”

“I would like for you to bring him in.”

“I don’t work for you. Use your own goons.”

“He’s protected by Thor, and the Avengers by default. But you could easily-”

“Like I said. I don’t work for you. Why don’t you try intimidating one of your other experiments?”

“Star-”

“That’s not my name. Goodbye.”

***

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