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freaknloser · 1 day ago

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✖ MDNI ✖ NSFW ✖ ✖ 18+ CONTENT ✖

Buff!Male x Chubby!FemaleReader

Part 2 Context: You can't stop thinking about Daniel, but he's not at the shop in the following weeks. Your life falls back into the same boring routine, same dull pop music playing overhead while you pluck things from shelves. Some time later, you go out with some friends for a much needed night of fun and—Wait... Who just said your name? ⚠ Content Warning: Adult language, friends lovingly threatening your life, fluff, slow burn. Word count: 2,066 │ part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 (date tbd) │ follow for more! │

Hello lovelies! ♡(˘ ε˘ʃƪ) This story is consuming my life. Ahhh! I kind of wrote this part three different times because I had so many ideas on how they would meet again. This is the one I landed on because I'm a selfish little brat who is indulging my own fantasies within this story. I hope you enjoy part 2! I know it's very cliff hang-y and open ended, but keep your eyes peeled for part 3. Maybe it will be released soon. (•̀ᴗ-)✧ As always, my inbox and asks are open! I would really love to hear from you—be it just a hello or constructive criticism! I promise I'm nice!

The following weeks went by with no sign of the man who admired you like you were a goddess under the unflattering glow of fluorescent lighting. Instead, nothing happened; no dramatic turn of fate driving you into each other’s arms on the street, no spotting him at a bus stop, no surprise introduction to a mysterious friend that ended up having black hair and blue eyes.

Your weekly shopping immediately went back to the same boring lull as before. Though sometimes, when you were reaching for something on a shelf, you would catch yourself looking at the doors as they were sliding open, but it was never him.

Though this wasn’t some romcom movie, part of you secretly hoped for a kind of shift in the tide that leads you back to each other. Yet the weeks turned into a month, and you were starting to think you had dreamt him up at this point.

“I don’t know,” you groaned as you flopped back onto your bed, your phone held to your ear as you looked at the ceiling. “I’m starting to think this is the universe telling me that maybe I wasn’t meant to see him again or something.”

“Girl. Don’t be stupid.” You could practically hear your friend, Amanda, roll her eyes through the phone. “It’s been a month and a half, not a year.”

You rolled onto your stomach to let out a protesting grumble into your mattress. “But he was so hot.”

“You sound pathetic.”

“Maybe I am,” you moaned, kicking your feet against the mattress dramatically.

She scoffed, the annoyance leaking into her tone with each word. “You are not pathetic. You just… Need laid or something.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong. It had been a while—a long while—and the last guy was not impressive. It was maybe three minutes of uncoordinated thrusting before he collapsed on top of you, leaving you to take an Uber home unsatisfied and full of frustration.

You respond after a moment of silence, “Ouch… But fair.”

“I have an idea!”

You heard the sound of a door opening on the other side of the phone followed by the soft clattering of hangers. You knew what this meant, even before she said it.

“Bar?”

“No, that’s boring. I was thinking the club downtown. You know, the one that plays good music and doesn’t have that weird guy that sits in the corner staring at people.”

You laugh, already sitting up in bed, eyes moving to your own closet. You knew there was no point in protesting, your friends would show up at your door and drag you out in your pj’s if it came down to that. Also, to be truthful, you could use to let loose a bit.

“I mean, there’s probably going to be some guy like that there, too.”

“Whatever, Y/N. Don’t kill my vibe.” A moment of silence followed by a small gasp. “Oh! This is the perfect time to wear that dress I bought at the mall. You going to wear the red one you got?”

You thoughtfully hummed as you stood and padded towards your closet. “I don’t know. I feel like it hugs my belly a bit too much.”

“Don’t even,” she snipped, words dripping with almost unrestrained rage, “or I will hurt you.”

You chuckle, plucking the dress from your closet rather than protesting.

“It looked so good on you. Just put it on. I’m coming over so we can get ready together.”

You rolled your eyes, moving back towards your bed to drape the silky red fabric over the mattress. “You mean you’re coming over so I can do your make-up.”

“Duh.”

“Okay, fine. But you’re buying first round,” you said with a grin.

She agreed; then about 20 minutes later, Amanda was perched in your computer chair with her long auburn hair pulled up in a messy bun. You gossiped about some new guy that started at her job—no, not him—some blonde guy that was apparently a complete prick.

By 9 o’clock, you were standing in line with three of your friends, giggling and gushing about how glad you were to see each other. Everyone looked stunning, their tight outfits extenuating their perfectly slim figures; and you couldn’t help but feel like you stood out between them.

The unforgiving fabric of your dress clinging tightly to the curve of your tummy, the dips of your hips, and swell of your breasts. Its thin straps doing little to hide your plump arms, leaving your skin exposed to the night air. While you weren’t incredibly insecure, this dress was increasing the anxiety building in your chest by the minute.

You fell quiet, listening to the ongoing tale of the mysterious blonde man who started at Amanda’s job. Even though she was scoffing and rolling her eyes, she couldn’t seem to stop talking about him. Just as you opened your mouth to crack a joke, a voice cut you off.

“Y/N?”

It was small, unbelieving, and was vaguely familiar though you couldn’t quite place it. You turned, and like something out of a corny movie, your gaze was drawn upwards and onto blue eyes. Your heart sputtered in your chest, stomach filling with butterflies, as you look up at the man that had been invading your mind so frequently.

“… Daniel?”

He looked even more handsome than he did that day in the shop. His hair perfectly pushed back, other than the small curl that seemingly refused to fall in line with the rest—and his outfit? A perfectly ironed white dress shirt that stretched tightly over his muscles, a thin black tie hanging loosely from his collar, and black slacks gripping his thick thighs.

It was criminal how hot he was in anything from the sweatpants he wore when you first met to the cleaned up version that stood in front of you now.

His face was full of longing, his lips slightly parted as he studied you. He looked at you like you had unfairly been taken from him, like he never expected to see you again. His eyes flicked across your face, drinking in every detail all over again; and for a moment, it felt like you forgot how to breathe… Because he was real and he was looking at you.

“Y/N,” he echoed, savoring the way your eyes lit up when he said your name, his lips curling into a smile. “It’s great to see you again.”

“Mm… I was starting to think you were avoiding me,” you teased.

His eyes drifted to your dress. For a long moment, he remained silent, his face unreadable as he lost himself in admiring the shiny fabric extenuating your soft, plump figure.

“Why would I do something so stupid?”

The blush creeped up your neck as your eyes stayed on his; he wasn’t looking back in yours. No, his eyes were all over body, admiring your curves the way a man would admire a work of art.

A series of throats clearing coming from behind you snapped you out of your trance. As you turned towards your friends, you were met with eager grins. You couldn’t stop the chuckle that bubbled up in your throat before introducing everyone.

Daniel was sweet, greeting everyone with a friendly smile, but his eyes kept falling back to you. He couldn’t help himself; appreciating how your ass looked in your dress and admiring the curves of your nearly bare shoulders. It was unfair, really; how exposed you were yet completely hidden from his view.

Then he noticed it: how your hands subtly tried to hide the way the fabric clung to your navel or tried to hang at your sides just so to hide the way it gripped the dip of your hips. His eyes met yours again, and in that moment, all that existed was you.

“You look absolutely stunning,” he murmured with hearts in his eyes.

You could hear your pulse in your ears as you realized that look would absolutely be your downfall; and he was thinking the same thing about the way your face flushed and lips quirked into a smile. Only where you worried, he worshipped. Before you could reply to his compliment, he was already speaking.

“So, I know you’re obviously busy…” He paused, shooting a short glance at your friends. He had been rejected once, sure, but he would happily humiliate himself if there was a small chance you would say yes.

He cleared his throat, angling himself towards you, and leaning in ever so slightly. “But I was wondering if I could tempt you into joining me for a late night snack?”

His blue eyes glimmered under the streetlights and you could see the hope glowing in them. The small distance between you filled with the smell of his cologne: musky, deep, woodsy. You had to stop yourself from shouting your agreement and bouncing on your toes, from giggling like a schoolgirl.

But you were supposed to be going to the club with your friends. You start to turn back towards them, but Amanda’s hand found your shoulder.

She leaned in close, her mouth close enough for you to feel the warmth of her breath on your ear as she whispered, “If you don’t go with him, I’m going to murder you.”

And that was all the validation you needed. Your eyes met Daniel’s again as your smile grew. You nodded in agreement and he was sure his lips would be stuck in the stupid grin that broke out across his face for the rest of his life.

“Great!” His voice came out more eager than me meant for it to, but he couldn’t hide his giddiness. How could he when you were standing in front of him looking like that?

He put a hand out as an offering. “How about breakfast? There’s a diner just up the street that makes the best pancakes.”

“Breakfast?” You laughed, placing your hand in his—and your whole body reacted to the contact.

Your breath hitched, body tensed. His hands were rough, calloused from obvious years of hard work; the warmth from his palm seeped into yours as his fingers coiled around your hand.

“What? You don’t like breakfast?” He smirked, shaking his head slowly from side to side as he clicked his tongue. “That’s a shame.”

“Oh, you know that isn’t where I was going with that,” you playfully snipped, lightly squeezing his hand as you scrunched your nose. “Besides… What kind of person doesn’t like breakfast?”

You waved to your friends as you were gently lead away from the club. Daniel didn’t release your hand, not for a long moment, enjoying the feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips. His entire brain screamed at him to weave his fingers between yours, to pull you close to his side and never let go.

Yet he just smiled down at you, opening his hand for you to pull away. Though you really didn’t want to, you did; wrapping your fingers around the strap of your purse instead. Neither of you spoke on the short walk, instead enjoying a comfortable silence and stolen glances.

As the soft glow of the white neon sign for the diner came into view, you looked up at him to say something, only to make direct eye contact. You grinned, arching an eyebrow, walking closer to his side.

“Are you going to stare all night?”

“If you let me.”

It came out with no hesitation, a raw thought that he hadn’t even fully processed before it tumbled from his mouth… But he would have said it regardless.

Your face burned as pink stained your skin, even stippling the tips of your ears with color. You looked away, trying to subdue the smile that was fighting so hard to break out on your face that it made your cheeks hurt.

When you got to the diner, he held the door for you, his eyes on yours as that wide smile clung to his lips.

“After you, shortcake.”

The sight of his eager face made your stomach flutter and chest tighten. After all this time, it seemed that the tide had turned in your favor after all; but if you were to ask him, he would have confidently said that he was the real winner that night.

#freaknloser #mdni #part 2 #ns/fw #nsfwwriting #chubby!reader #buff!male #x reader #mdniwriting #chubby reader #oc story #original character #ns/fw writing #buff!malexchubby!reader #original fiction #original work #original story #oc writing

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frozenjokes · 3 days ago

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something sweet to see you off

ao3 link

Something had changed between Mumbo’s two humans.

They were happier. Mumbo had very little baseline for human behavior besides these two, but they seemed happier, and when Mumbo bothered Atlas about it, they told him they didn’t care and didn’t want to talk about humans. Eventually though, Mumbo was able to needle a little information out of Atlas; the humans in the North did not touch each other and were violent and irritable, so surely the opposite of that meant good!

Mumbo took great joy from his humans’ joy. Over the next few weeks, he learned to take great joy from the things they loved as well, even activities that did not come naturally to him. If Grian and Scar did anything, Mumbo would happily involve himself.

“You don’t think he’s jealous, do you?” Scar said, sounding a little concerned when he glanced back at Mumbo, but Mumbo couldn’t guess why. This was the most valued human activity; Scar’s hand in Grian’s, Grian’s in Mumbo’s, and Mumbo’s back in Scar’s, making a perfect chain. Mumbo didn’t used to love this one, but the humans did it nearly every day, clearly this was a bonded act, and Mumbo would not be left out! He learned to love it. His favorite was when Scar got antsy, swinging both his and Grian’s arms somewhat absently. Sometimes Mumbo would parrot his movements and sometimes he would keep his arms purposefully stiff until Scar would squawk at him, and both he and Grian would work together to try and get Mumbo’s arms to move.

“Scar, I don’t think he even knows we’re together.”

They were on the beach less. That did make Mumbo sad, sometimes it made him feel uncertain, but mostly it fueled the homesickness that had been simmering in his gut for a while now. Atlas was not the only mer who wanted to go home. It was a weird feeling. Mumbo loved it up here, he loved how relaxed the surface felt, all the different animals and plants, he obviously loved his humans, but it was a little.. He was bored, oftentimes. He missed having an abundance of things to do. He missed taking care of a pod.��

What the three of them did manage to do though, was make a schedule. Communicating the schedule was a little harder; Grian got Etho to teach him a couple mer words, but mermaids did not measure the passing of time by the sun, time was more of a sweeping concept, an intrinsic feeling from season to season, the more specific pieces measured by changing tides. With all the human yapping, Mumbo got the feeling that humans’ sense of time was worse than his own. But they all got there in the end.

Seven days and nights was a human week. They had names for each day, marking them differently in the sandy diagram Grian made, but it wasn’t too important besides the fact that Scar was coming on ‘Tue’ and ‘Thur’ and ‘Sat’ and ‘Sun’ and Grian was coming three out of the four same days. After Scar said the words out loud enough, pointing at the symbols as he went, Mumbo got to know them. Honestly, he was a little more caught up on humans having matching symbols for their words, but it was hard to focus on that when they were demanding his attention with other matters.

Mumbo was surprised when they arrived one night off-schedule; he’d never had a night visit before, so he and especially Atlas were quite on edge. Atlas had begged Mumbo not to go to the surface which.. that made Mumbo a little sad.

But it had in fact been Grian and Scar, overloaded with all sorts of big soft things. Fascinating. Mumbo had been a little nosey, reasonably in his opinion, but besides a little Grian frustration, they were acting as they always did, friendly and loud and a little stupid. The brigade of pillows and blankets were laid out in the most extravagant nest Mumbo had ever seen, and he was about to snuggle in before the humans could take the best spots before Scar turned, something familiar hanging from his arms. Mumbo bristled.

Scar stared. Blinked. “What?” He didn’t seem all too concerned to be in possession of an, albeit, limp snake monster, which gave Mumbo the impression it was dead, but when Scar had nearly been eaten all that time ago, Mumbo did not understand why he would mess with such creatures again!

“Can you get mine too?” Grian called without looking back, focused on the nest arrangement, and Scar mumbled his affirmation, glancing back and forth at Mumbo as he backpedaled toward the human pile of things. Mumbo advanced.

“Hey, man, you’re making me nervous,” Scar said, which was enough to get Grian to look up.

“What.. What—? What’s wrong?” The pinch of fear in Grian’s voice made Mumbo shrink slightly, forcibly relaxing his fins.

“Don’t know. Is there a really big scary spider on my head?”

“No..”

Mumbo took his chance to swipe Scar’s possibly-dead monster while he was distracted, slithering off with great speed so he could inspect it separately.

“Mumbo! Mumbo, no!” Scar fell over himself giving chase, but Mumbo was more relieved to hear Grian laugh.

Honestly, Scar’s monster did not feel at all how he remembered; it had been soft and bloodless, yes, but this felt far more like a human soft-thing, and Mumbo couldn’t find a single scale despite the way the creature shimmered like a fish. He’d sworn it had scales. Scar pouted beside him, whined, pushed at Mumbo’s shoulder, tried yanking his belonging out of Mumbo’s hands, and this was all getting very annoying, so Mumbo just pushed Scar until he fell back on his butt. Unfortunately, Scar must have thought this was a game, getting up just for Mumbo to push him again, then again, then again until the point where it looked like Scar was quite enjoying this and Mumbo was not having a very productive examination of this possible-monster. Ugh. Whatever. He would just drown it to make sure.

Scar wailed when Mumbo brought his soft-thing to the water, but this was for his own good! At least with Grian, Mumbo could trust him not to throw away his life on a whim, but Scar was too reckless, and if the humans were going to stay out here for a prolonged period, Mumbo was not going to let him be eaten. Given the cackling from Grian’s end though, this probably wasn’t a monster or alive and Mumbo had just been mistaken all that time ago. Well. Mumbo would not be embarrassed! If it was life or death, Mumbo would rather be paranoid than have his humans perish!

Scar was not so pleased when Mumbo handed him back his newly drowned soft-thing. It was a little sad. Those eyes.. But Mumbo didn’t want Scar to be sad; he was excited the humans were here tonight! So he patted Scar on the head exactly twice. Grian did that to Scar sometimes too, and it seemed to resolve all problems, so..

But Scar still looked droopy, and Mumbo wasn’t sure if four pats would be too overwhelming, so he left Scar alone in favor of returning to the human nest.

“I don’t suppose you have room in your sleeping bag,” Scar whined, miserable, but Grian just shrugged.

“I don’t know.. You’re a pretty big guy, and I need my beauty sleep. I’ll get hot sharing my bed with a furnace.”

“You share your bed with me plenty.”

“Sure, but in my bed I have enough space to wind back and kick you until you roll over.”

“Well if you don’t concede, I’m gonna have to drag my wet, sandy sack into your perfect little bed—“

“No—! No need. We can share. I like sharing, actually, but if Mumbo gets FOMO and tries to get in, you have to fight him off.”

“Yes sir!!” Scar made an odd gesture, hand horizontal against his forehead, but Grian only snorted, ignoring him. Grian laid his own bag-monster in the nest, feverishly tried to rid himself of all sand, then settled inside it. Scar joined him shortly. Oooooooo.

A bit of screaming and Scar’s fingers in Mumbo’s nostrils later, Mumbo graciously let them have the bag to themselves.

Mumbo could not nest with them the entire night, but he rested easy in the shallows, heart light and full.

How bittersweet when just a few days later, Etho walked alongside them. None of them had any idea this marked the end of Mumbo’s stay, at least for now.

Etho was already sick, so Mumbo let them be after a brief greeting, reporting back to Atlas in the meantime. The little involuntary trill that fluttered out of Atlas’s throat reignited Mumbo’s own excitement to return to the deep. Home. Oh, he really did want to go home.

By the time Mumbo returned to the beach, Etho had transformed, unsubtly trying to back away from Scar’s incessant babbling, only for Scar to follow them into the water up to his shins. Mumbo called their name, fins waving in amusement as Etho jumped on the excuse to escape. Mumbo gave the disappointed Scar a friendly flick of his fins before submerging to meet Etho.

‘I’d like to speak with you. All of you, if it’s not too much trouble so soon after your change. Atlas and I are returning to the deep; likely after you’ve finished your stay.’

Etho blinked, once, then twice, but ultimately, they did not seem all too surprised. ‘Of course. I’ll let them know.’

Scar lit up seeing Etho turn around, his joy doubling when Etho called for Grian with Mumbo at their side. It broke Mumbo’s heart to know they’d be getting bad news. Well. Not all bad.

“Mumbo and Cub are leaving soon. After I’m human again, I think.”

The drop of their expressions, particularly Scar’s, hit Mumbo way harder than he thought they would, and very suddenly he was overcome with a great desperation to mend this immediately.

‘Tell them I’m carrying.’

“Wh— What!?” Etho whirled around, forgetting to whistle, but Mumbo knew the word quite well by now. He cocked his head, amused.

‘Carrying.’

‘I got that! With— With Atlas? I didn’t know—‘

“What is it!?” Scar broke in, concern etching his tone, which, given Etho’s reaction, was probably warranted.

“He’s. Uh. Pregnant.”

The expression on both humans’ faces made Mumbo worry they did not think this was such good news as he did. Why were they looking at him like that? Did humans die during childbirth or care? Mumbo was pretty sure he’d heard of that occurring in some fish..

“Can I watch you give birth. Please. Please.”

“SCAR!!”

Scar proceeded to get defensive, and then the two humans started bickering, Mumbo’s name being thrown around way too much for it to be anything inconsequential.

‘Ghost, please tell them this isn’t going to kill me.’

“Oh my god, all of you be quiet.” Etho clasped their hands over their ears. “First—Scar, I am not even going to translate that, that’s insane.”

“It is not! No one in the WORLD has ever been able to witness first hand a mermaid birth, because, you know, they’re not exactly human-friendly, and— I mean come on! Are you not curious? It would be cool, this is science!”

“I am not curious,” Etho deadpanned. “And why do you think Mumbo is going back to the deep anyway, he’s not going to do his business on the surface, are you crazy?”

“Oh,” Realization dawned on Scar’s face, which melted to disappointment. “Darn..”

‘They know I’ll be okay?’ Mumbo asked, not wanting to be pushy, but all these unknowns were making him anxious.

‘They know,’

“Wait!” Both Mumbo and Etho flinched when Scar yelped, but he was not at all put out when Grian whacked his shoulder, “With Cub!? Mumbo! You didn’t tell us— oh no.” Scar whirled on Grian, the sudden movement making Etho flinch a second time, “You don’t think he’s rebounded, do you? Oh god, is this my fault!? What if Mumbo doesn’t even want a kid—“

“—No. Scar,” Grian rolled his eyes, “If mermaids don’t want their kids they probably just eat them, no need to be hysterical.”

“That’s worse!!”

“What, are you opposed to mermaid birth control? It’s his body, Scar.” Grian snickered, but Scar still looked horrified.

“That is not what birth control means, Grian!!”

Etho stared Mumbo dead in the eyes while the both of them made a fool of themselves, fin flicks growing progressively violent as their bickering continued for an abysmally long time. Eventually, Etho dipped under the water where the human voices were muffled, and Mumbo joined them.

‘So, are you and Atlas courting?’

Mumbo flicked his tail ‘no.’ ‘Atlas wants to pass their sire’s name. They are ancestrally inclined. They wish for their offspring not to fear the surface like they do now. I offered to carry. Our little one will accompany me to the surface after a season’s passing, or longer. Whenever I deem it safe. I will be careful.’

Etho’s fins fell, flicking anxiously. ‘You’re bringing your child to the surface? So young? Are you certain that’s a good idea?’

Irritation rippled through Mumbo’s fins, but he fought to still them. It was a fair question. Perhaps his own defensiveness stemmed from seeded uncertainty.

‘It depends. There is a chance the surface may be a better environment for them than the deep. Atlas and I aren’t exchanging scales, but it will be obvious when we return together after an extended period who is the sire. Atlas is.. not well liked in the pod. Very much so. I worry our child will take the brunt of their distaste. There are dangers at the surface, yes, but I have occupied this place for seasons worth of time with few to no issues. The humans will provide an environment of unconditional support. Plus, I.. want them to meet them. My child.’

Etho relaxed, and Mumbo along with them. But there was something else there, a deeper thought behind Etho’s eyes along with a soft rumble of unsaid words bubbling in their throat. They left the water, breaking through Grian and Scar to find their things on the beach, then digging through the bag. The humans watched Etho incredulously, barraging them with questions, while Mumbo looked on curiously.

They returned with a closed fist. Scar stumbled as he tried to look over Etho’s shoulder, but they paid him no mind.

They opened their hand to Mumbo. A scale.

‘I have no ambition to find any One mer in my life to share these with. I like the tradition, but not the meaning. I imagined giving them to friends, close friends, people who’ve changed me. This was for someone else, actually, but I think we’ll postpone our meeting with this being the last I’ll see of you for a while. And, being you’re the reason I can share my scales at all, I think it’s fitting you have one. My friend. To the mers in the deep, a lover you met on the surface, if you want to keep the sire a secret.’

Etho paused, fins lowering in stark anxiousness, ‘You don’t have to take it. And I’m not— This isn’t to say you shouldn’t bring your kid to the surface. Only an offer to put your mind at ease.’

Mumbo was at a loss for words. How could you speak when you’re so deeply moved. He couldn’t, so instead he spun over himself in the water, somewhat clumsily catching his tail between his teeth. Etho squawked in slight alarm, the humans babbling in turn, but Mumbo paid them no mind. He snagged one of his scales at the base, only growling softly from the pain when he ripped it out. He’d always imagined this to be a more elegant thing, but goodness, he felt stupid as he straightened, slightly more disheveled than before.

‘Well, you can’t trade without one of mine.’

Etho stared at him for a long time. Their mouth twitched, like the instinct of a human smile was fighting their anatomical reality. They extended their hand, and Mumbo gave his in turn.

What a special thing, to be friends. Mumbo only mourned that the mermaids in the deep would not get to fully experience just how special this white scale was, but truly, the most important thing was that it was nothing like Atlas’s.

Mumbo had not noticed the humans’ quiet until they exploded into a flurry of questions and exclamations, of which Etho begrudgingly gave answers. Mumbo found himself amused, mostly because they’d repeated themselves so much, that Mumbo learned the human word for ‘scale.’ Briefly, he retreated to the bottom of the lake to tuck this precious thing away lest any jealous human try to snatch it; that was Mumbo’s impression of the conversation, anyway.

…

‘Mumbo, just because you’re under the water with your eyes closed, doesn’t mean we can’t see you either.’

Mumbo blinked open his large, owlish eyes, feigning innocence, but he dove away when Etho snapped his teeth, no doubt planning on returning in the next five minutes. Not like it particularly mattered; Mumbo couldn’t understand English, but still, could he not give them a moment of peace?

Scar was giggling while Grian watched the water fondly, and Etho consciously refrained from rolling his eyes.

“So what haven’t you shown him?” Etho asked, snapping the two of them back to the conversation. “We could throw the football around all day today and tomorrow, but you,” Etho gave Scar a pointed look, “Want this to be special.”

“He’s having a kid, it’s a big deal!” Scar threw up his hands in defense, while Grian let his cheek rest on his fist.

“I can’t think of a single thing Scar hasn’t either given or shown Mumbo, seriously, at this point Scar’s brought all but the foundations of his own home to the beach. That’s why we’re asking you. When you first came to town, what stood out? What excited you?”

Etho’s lip curled in anxious apprehension. “I don’t know.. I wasn’t really looking at stuff on the mainland as much as I was overwhelmed.”

“After you were settled in with Bdubs, then,” Scar suggested, attitude cheerful enough to shoo away the unwanted memories.”

“Well.. There were Bdubs’ plants, he had quite a few I’d never seen before. The toilet was the craziest thing I had ever seen in my life, and that still stands. I mean, come on. That’s not really all that helpful though. I don’t know. It’d be easier to come up with something if I knew what you guys had already showed him. Like yeah, junk from Scar’s house and fishing supplies, he’s seen your phones, probably heard all kinds of music—“

“Oh, hey, music! I’d never thought about that,” Scar shrugged, missing Etho’s gaping expression entirely, “I was never a music guy, never really got it.”

“That’s a good idea,” Grian added, casual, like it was not completely fucking INSANE they had never played any human music for Mumbo before, “If I ever listen to music, I’m always wearing headphones. Never thought about letting Mumbo listen. That’s not really worthy of a grand goodbye gesture though; why don’t we do that today, and come up with something else for tomorrow?”

“Are you guys— seriously!?”

The two of them seemed to notice for the first time how worked up Etho had become, exchanging a glance like he was the crazy one.

“What?” Scar asked.

“Music is— Music is the mermaid thing. Song is the most culturally, biologically ingrained part of our lives, it’s extremely powerful and deeply impactful on our health— didn’t Mumbo give both of you music boxes!? That’s like one step away from handing out his scales! How have you not shown him music yet!?”

The two of them blinked in unison. Grian cocked his head. “It’s that big of a deal?”

Scar shrugged, “Maybe Mumbo isn’t a music guy. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve heard him sing. I’m a little glad.. it’s a little too.. visceral.”

“He sang a few times when we were first getting acquainted,” Grian mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought he was going to kill me. But there were a few other times where it wasn’t threatening.. I think he was trying to connect.”

Etho let his face fall into his hands. “Well no wonder he doesn’t sing much when you guys are around, then. If you guys started freaking out, he probably thinks you don’t like it!”

“Do mermaids not sing their prey to death?” Scar asked the question like a ‘gotcha,’ and Etho had to collect himself for a moment before answering.

“That isn’t— No. We have songs for all kinds of things, but hunting in the deep involves a lot more coordinated screaming. It’s a ‘song,’ technically, but not in the traditional sense. That’s just a myth.”

“That makes more sense,” Grian mused, and Etho’s head spun wondering just how many humans actually believed mermaids were singing sailors off the rails of their own ships. God.

He managed to collect himself, mind clearing enough to form coherent thoughts while Grian and Scar went off on some mermaid song related tangent.

“Wait,” Etho managed to cut in, his fins raising from their drooped position, “I have an idea.”

…

The last day.

When the humans went home for the evening yesterday, Etho had let Mumbo know they’d been able to confirm with the Evil Human that they could stay a mermaid all day in order to see Mumbo off, which was quite the touching gesture, one Atlas appreciated in kind (despite not fully understanding why Etho would want to stay human at all, though they admitted that was mostly a them problem).

Mumbo was enjoying a quiet morning doze in the shallows, but crashing in the woods much earlier than usual jolted him awake, scurrying off into deeper water.

Not that this was necessary beyond pure instinct; it was pretty obvious at this point Scar and Grian were just arriving early, and given the sheer size of their bulging backpacks, Mumbo got the sense they were planning on making the most of this final day.

Almost immediately Grian started setting something up in the sand, hanging a big white sheet between two poles, and Mumbo really wanted to know what he was up to, but Scar was demanding Mumbo’s attention elsewhere, so reluctantly he left Grian’s side to play Throw Ball with him and Etho. It was alright. A little more fun when Atlas poked their head above the water, only to be verbally accosted by both Mumbo and Scar in an attempt to get them to join the game. Atlas left immediately. Mumbo took the brief opportunity to play a new game of chase, but Atlas did not possess nearly as much anticipatory Energy, and the game stopped being fun when Mumbo got bit. Whatever, whatever.

When Grian had finished setting up his contraption, complete with a little stand and another device Mumbo had never seen before, Mumbo was not allowed to touch anything. Worst day of his life, borderline blasphemous, what was the point of new things if he couldn’t drown them. Maybe that was okay though, since Grian seemed to be getting really frustrated with his device, and if Grian hated it that much, Mumbo wasn’t too sure he was interested. Then again, more reason to drown it. Oh well. According to Etho, they were having [tech] problems, whatever that meant.

It was a cloudy day, cold, and Mumbo had been a little disappointed with the poor weather. Not that he minded, but even Scar didn’t want to touch the water when it was this chilly, and indeed, he’d hardly gotten his feet wet during Throw Ball, but then Grian’s white screen lit up with color, vibrant without interference from the sun, and Mumbo had to think this was not such poor weather afterall.

The humans and their new device had his full attention.

‘Humans make stories with art and music, millions of them, and collage them together to make [movie]. I just learned yesterday you’d never heard human music before; this is going to blow your mind.’ Etho’s fins were almost jumpy in their excitement, infectious in combination with the promise of human music— Mumbo had gotten the sense humans had the capacity to be musical, but he had seen so little, and now he was chomping at the bit for more, his fins twitching and waving in tandem with Etho’s.

Another twenty minutes of tech problems dampened his excitement, just a little.

But then. Then.

Human advancements were often beyond the scope of Mumbo’s imagination. Mumbo had been no stranger to being surprised in all the time he’d known these strange little creatures, but this. This was different.

Mumbo felt the effect of the the song immediately, loud, demanding, pulsing through his entire being, he almost closed his eyes against it, nearly missing the explosion of color on the screen, color and music, how was Mumbo meant to focus on the color when the triumphant cry of the score rattled him to his very core, he wanted to see, feel, experience, but for the whole first sequence, he could only sit back and take it.

Quietly, Etho explained the story, supplementing the voices Mumbo could not understand. He did not need to understand. He did not care. When the song was not so intense, Mumbo was struck speechless by the way the pictures moved. Their art. Human art. Moving. And then the art began to sing once again, and Mumbo was paralyzed by its opulence.

At some point, Atlas materialized behind him, and Mumbo would have been shocked to see Atlas nearly past the shoreline if he was not entirely consumed, hardly catching the whispered words of Scar to Etho.

“Tell him to put these on. Then he won’t have to be so far out of the water. If he doesn’t want to be.”

Etho was quiet for a short moment, perhaps similarly overcome. They relayed the message regardless. The first and only time Mumbo’s eyes were ripped away from the screen was when Atlas chirped, sharp and almost pained, to which Mumbo was certain they’d been hurt, perhaps by that human device now clamped on their face, but while Atlas held the sides of their head, they did not remove it.

‘What is this. Why can I see.’

‘Human invention,’ Etho answered simply, and Mumbo would have lost it at the vague description if he wasn’t so preoccupied, but then the music started up again and Mumbo stopped listening altogether, the sounds of Atlas shuffling backward and Scar’s giggling all but white noise.

Even with Etho whispering the story into his ear the entire time, Mumbo picked up nothing. How could you listen when you were lost in the belly of the beast, song, Mumbo had known song like this, song with layers, performances that consumed you, but this was— it was all— everything. Everything all of the time. How could the humans ever have kept this from him!?

And then it ended. Mumbo stared on in stunned shock.

‘Again.’ Mumbo demanded to Etho. ‘Tell them to play it again.’

...

Scar had been quite intentional with his pick of The Lion King, but honestly, he had not been expecting Mumbo to like it so much that he all but forced them to watch it six times. Etho had not, in fact, been exaggerating what had happened to him the first time he watched TV.

Hell, it’d even pulled Cub nearly all the way out of the water, almost [not even a little] docile the way he stared up at the screen. Scar did feel a little bad; Cub looked nervous, and Scar wanted him to enjoy the movie just as much as Mumbo clearly was! With zero ulterior motives, he handed Etho his old pair of glasses, and the stars must have really aligned, because Cub actually put them on. (And freaked out a little) And loved them!!! What a great relief, truly. Something had just felt wrong without the lab coat, and the glasses really tied everything together. Scar only mourned he’d never be able to take a picture.

Now, The Lion King was great, 10/10, but Scar did start getting bored about twenty minutes into the first watch through. There were a few exceptions, mostly the “Be Prepared” sequence and the moments where Mumbo got really into it, swaying and bobbing like a buoy on mildly choppy water or maybe a territorial bearded dragon, but those were only five minute stretches of time, and unbeknownst to him, Scar had many hours to kill. He didn’t mind spending them with Grian.

“I just can’t believe Etho was going to give Bdubs a Let’s Get Married But Friends scale first. Was he worried I wouldn’t say yes? Obviously I would say yes. I would love to get married to Etho. Well—“

“You sure aren’t getting a scale now,” Grian snorted, voice low so as not to disturb Mumbo. Honestly, Scar didn’t think Mumbo was on the same planet anymore, but it was a nice gesture. He followed suit.

“No, no, not any time soon, but just in case anyone was listening, it would be a perfectly suitable birthday gift. Christmas is even closer! Or just an out of the blue ‘I love you,’ gift works as well, it’ll be my favorite gift of the whole year, 10,000 reputation points, guaranteed.”

“If we’re suggesting Christmas gifts, I’d love Etho’s number.”

Scar heard the whap of Etho’s tail against the sand, but didn’t look back. Neither did Grian. Etho’s tail continued to lash.

“Neither of you are getting anything. Ever.”

“Did you hear that? A fly, maybe?” Scar asked, while Grian shrugged.

“I’m thinking I should choose my next words very carefully if I ever want to gain Etho’s favor enough for a very nice present.”

“You are never getting my number. I value my peace and quiet.”

“Actually Scar, I heard nothing at all.”

…

Atlas knew they would likely be the one to drag Mumbo back to the sea at the end of the day, but that didn’t make it feel any better. This was Mumbo’s special place, their home away from home, and Atlas understood how meaningful it was to have this, to cherish it, and be forced to let it go. Though... After an entire day of the same (admittedly, astonishing) [movie] playing, Atlas felt far less guilty. Listen, it was cool, it was very cool, and don’t even get them started on the human advancement of eye wear, but for goodness’s sake, the sun was going down at this point, enough is enough.

They were going to butt in when they noticed Mumbo getting tired, distracted, looking around instead of being glued to the moving pictures, but then Mumbo had caught their humans’ eyes, holding hands, and their attention was immediately recaptured.

Funny how that kind of joy could make Atlas yearn for something they would never want.

Atlas held the wrists of mers clawing at their face, they held fish to be eaten alone, held the water’s memory of spilled blood, and Atlas had never longed for anything more, especially not a human hand to hold. But Mumbo just had a way of making even the most unappealing activities enviable, they lived and loved like the world had everything to give, and Atlas almost hated them for it, hated how they could just live, completely unburdened.

Where would Atlas be now, unburdened? They closed their eyes. Bones at the bottom of the North ocean, likely. Even more likely, skinned alive and tossed back into the water as bait for their dwindling pod. Their family.

No one would come for them. They knew better. Atlas would not want them to.

They would die alone, in chains. Perhaps they were never destined for an unburdened life. Something happy, unworried. Maybe that was alright. Atlas would bleed a thousand times for someone like Mumbo to thrive in their place. Atlas would bleed a million flaming stars for their people to live on.

And they would.

Atlas would have a child. A little fry, a Northern mer, unburdened by Atlas’s chains. Oh, it was more than enough.

A piece of themself, unburdened. Would that little mer love human hands as much as Mumbo?

Atlas would endure it all. For the both of them, Mumbo and their unborn child, Atlas would endure it all.

And so they let Mumbo be, returning to the bottom of the lake. Atlas was in no rush.

…

The sun had long set, a chill rolling in as night settled over the cove, and Mumbo could ignore the humans’ shivers all he wanted, but it was clear their evening was coming to a close.

How unfair, when the three of them had gone through so much effort to prolong it.

It turned out that Scar and Grian had plans other than their magnificent moving pictures, both of their bags full of trinkets and magical little human artifacts. Mumbo could have played with each one for hours, but he did not take his time combing through them, especially the objects he’d already seen before. He no longer had all the time in the world. It was as gut wrenching as it was a relief.

Mumbo had left them before. He’d left them and he’d missed them, but somehow the last times it had been so much easier, it had felt necessary, whereas now it was a choice, a conscious decision to turn the page. It was horrible. Mumbo never wanted to go home.

The night slowed. The humans tired. Even Scar was running out of things to say.

Mumbo did not shy away when Scar stared at him, eyes wet and yearning and intentional, and Mumbo did not flinch when Scar threw his arms around his neck, holding him close. It was not uncomfortable. Not even for a moment. Mumbo met Grian’s eye, longing for him to do the same. Despite their great language barrier, the message made it through. Mumbo sighed deeply from his nose as he was perfectly consumed by both of them.

He rested his forehead in Grian’s hair. Then Scar’s.

‘I think it’s time to say goodbye.’

Separately, the both of them mumbled a similar sentiment. Mumbo did not have to understand them to know.

They all knew.

Scar never stopped waving, and Mumbo never stopped looking back. At the far side of the lake he could not see Grian’s smile, but knew it was there, just like he knew the two of them were holding hands, and missing his.

Goodbye, then. Here’s to a reunion all the sweeter.

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft fic #hermitfic #hermitcraft fanfic #gtws #cubfan135 #grian #mumbo jumbo #ethoslab #hermitshipping #scarian #emotionally this is like qpr mumscarian to me #but its not explicitly communicated #i won't tag cumbo but like #i want to #theyre so :3

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werew0lfhours · 2 days ago

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Hello, internet rando here.

I stumbled across this interaction and was... Baffled. So, I'm going to throw my two cents in.

Everything Kid said was reasonable, but Bit.... I don't think you really understand how the world at large works.

Let's get the facts straight- Lily has been friends with a lot of people through the years. Lily has dated a few people. But at least six of those people have spoken out and said she isn't a good person.

If I wanted to be dramatic, I would compare Lily to Epstien. Because... Epstien was a friend's with a lot of people who didn't go to his island or knew he was a fucking monster. But I won't do that.

I want you to look at the people you mentioned, Bit. We know not much about Ethan.

Ginger was 15 and a fan who drew NSFW of Lily. This was readily available info. Lily should have stopped this. But she didn't. And she went on to date her.

Ren is in Russia and married now, not to mention, doesn't seem to interact with Lily at all now. And she was also a minor fan when they started talking.

Xain and Sketchy are.... Whatever.

Lolo is 26 and lives with her parents for reasons that allude to her needing their care still.

M'kay has seemingly never had a healthy relationship in her life.

These people being the "example" you use is telling. These are all people who haven't been around for long (Britt had been friends with her since she was a teen) and they also don't seem to know what is and isn't healthy in an interpersonal relationship. And they have shown this.

Also, look at what happened with some of the people that Lily had a public falling out with. Lily started going behind Lizzy's back to bad mouth her about really petty shit when they had broken up "amicably". That forced Lizzy to address what their relationship was really like. And Lily only responded with, "No, you."

Britt had entire logs full of proof of the things she had been through. And people still act as if Britt is some spurrned fuck buddy when;

1. She is a lesbian.

2. Lily was presenting as a cis hetero male during the entirety of their friendship.

Can you see how shitty that is?

Not to mention, Lily recently attempted to dox her by using her full legal name edited over a post on her side blog. And she also committed liable by saying she is a pedo defender.

And Josh.... She's still upset about Josh. She still makes digs towards him. To this day. They stopped being friends nearly a decade ago. That's weird behavior.

So, take all of that and place that on the most volatile and petty person you know. Would you stop publicly being friends with them, or even make it seem like you didn't want to be friends with them anymore? No? Why's that? Scared of the repercussions of not being under their thumb?

Anyway, very lame excuse all and all.

Try a new argument.

Ps. You forgot about Carousel, Blake, and InkRose. Strange.

(Also, this account is one of the funniest things I've seen lmaoooo.)

I'm ready Lily stans

Okay, I need everyone on Lily's side to do a brain exercise with me.

If Lily to always a victim and never the problem then she is lying about something if all of her friends have decided to cut her off then she is the problem. if every room you go in smells like shit then check your shoes

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thatnightlamp · 1 day ago

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Okay, this might be weird, but your post about pregnant Angron got me thinking I would love to see Sevatar finding out he's pregnant, and having to deal with telling the other parent (Surprise me. Just not Konrad.), having to navigate the awkwardness and the challenges. Like not being allowed to flay people for trying to touch his belly. Actually having to eat, sleep and take care of himself. I love both the smut, the humor and everything else.

Oh my god I really did this. !mpreg Sevatar. !OOC

Sevatar woke up with a snarl lodged somewhere between his throat and his brain, the taste of copper on his tongue and the annoying, persistent sensation of nausea roiling in his gut.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed in his personal quarters aboard Nightfall, the cold metal floor biting against bare feet. The chamber stank of old blood, incense, and the faint scent of human sweat, a reminder of his most recent, extremely poor life decision.

That poor decision was currently snoring softly in his bed, tangled in bloodstained sheets, alive. Which was, frankly, miraculous.

The mortal’s name was… fuck, what was it again? Lucan? Lukan? Something like that. A voidship rating, baseline human, the kind of idiot with enough reckless nerve to make lewd comments at a First Captain and, somehow, wind up in his bed without ending up as wall décor.

It had been a one-time thing. A stress reliever. A carnal distraction from the endless, suffocating grind of war and Konrad’s incessant brooding. Sevatar hadn’t even thought about it again.

Until now.

Because for the past three weeks, he’d been experiencing a series of unexplainable biological anomalies. Loss of appetite. Vomiting. Fatigue. A deeply disturbing softness around his abdomen that he was absolutely not going to refer to as a ‘bump.’

He hadn’t told anyone. Not yet.

It was bad enough that his own traitorous body had betrayed him. The very idea of marching up to the Apothecarion and explaining his condition, no. He’d rather throw himself out of an airlock.

So Sevatar did what any responsible First Captain would do. He conducted a highly illegal, unsanctioned self-scan using a stolen medicae servitor.

And the results… were catastrophic.

“Estimated gestational period: six weeks. Fetal development: stable. Host vitals: sub-optimal. Recommended actions: increased caloric intake, cessation of combat operations, enforced rest periods.”

He stared at the flickering hololith in the dim light of the chamber, feeling something inside him shrivel up and die.

Sevatar was pregnant.

With a baseline human’s child.

His child.

The bile rose again, and he barely made it to the corner bucket in time.

The hardest part wasn’t the nausea. It wasn’t the bone-deep fatigue, or the burning ache in his joints, or the uncharacteristic weepiness he experienced last week when a servitor dropped one of his favorite skinning knives.

The hardest part was telling Lucan.

He cornered the mortal in one of the storage holds, where the man was counting crates of flensing hooks. Lucan looked up, pale, sweat-soaked hair clinging to his forehead, and smiled with the kind of shit-eating confidence that had no business existing.

“Sev,” he greeted, utterly fearless. “Back for round two?”

“I’m pregnant,” Sevatar snarled.

Lucan blinked.

“...Like, with a kid?”

“No, with a fucking back-mounted assault cannon. Of course with a kid, you halfwit.” Sevatar advanced on him, teeth bared. “Your fault.”

To his credit, Lucan didn’t scream or faint. He scratched the back of his neck and muttered, “Damn. Guess contraceptives don’t work on Astartes, huh?”

Sevatar grabbed him by the front of his tunic and yanked him up to eye level. “You tell a single soul about this, and I will personally pull your spine out through your dick.”

“Noted,” Lucan croaked, but there was a grin tugging at his lips, the suicidal bastard. “So, uh… what now?”

“What now,” Sevatar growled, dropping him, “is you’re on shit duty until this parasite’s out of me. You’re responsible for making sure no one touches me, no one talks about this, and if anyone even thinks about calling me cute, you flay them alive.”

“Y’know, for a guy about to be a dad, you’re surprisingly cranky.”

Sevatar drew his combat knife in one smooth motion, and Lucan wisely bolted.

It got worse.

News spread faster aboard Nightfall than a plague. Sevatar wasn’t sure how. Maybe someone overheard Lucan at the mess, maybe someone saw him eating a second ration bar, maybe his mood swings tipped them off.

Sevatar entered the strategium one evening to find Talos, and two other Night Lords huddled over a holomap, who immediately straightened with expressions ranging from horror to barely-suppressed laughter.

Talos cleared his throat. “Captain. Uh… heard you’re expecting.”

Sevatar’s eyelid twitched. “Who told you?”

“Does it matter?” Talos grinned, sharp and unrepentant. “We’ve taken the liberty of compiling a list of potential names.”

Sevatar drew his bolt pistol, aimed it at the holomap, and fired.

There were rules now.

Konrad’s rules.

Apparently, the Primarch had felt something through whatever psychic connection tied them together, and demanded an explanation.

Sevatar still remembered the expression on Curze’s face — a mixture of morbid fascination and quiet, exhausted horror.

“You will not engage in frontline combat. You will not starve yourself. You will not execute any crew who touch you accidentally.You will eat, sleep, and rest. You will not compromise this Legion’s genetic legacy out of spite.”

“Genetic legacy? It’s half-baseline.”

“It’s still yours,” Konrad had muttered. “Now go eat something before I restrain you myself.”

It was humiliating.

Sevatar found himself assigned a minder, Lucan, naturally — who hovered obnoxiously at his side during meals, handing him nutrient bars and muttering things like “the little parasite needs calories, boss.”

Worse, the other Astartes started treating him differently. Not with mockery, no one was suicidal enough for that, but with a kind of cautious deference usually reserved for unexploded munitions.

Sevatar hated it.

The cravings were the worst.

He woke one cycle at 03:00 with an overwhelming, soul-devouring need for pickled corpse-meat and caramel nutrient paste.

Lucan, half-asleep in a corner hammock (because the fool had apparently moved into his quarters for safety), groaned as Sevatar dragged him bodily from his blanket cocoon.

“You’re coming to the galley.”

“It’s the middle of sleep shift—”

“I will gut you with a spoon.”

Ten minutes later, Sevatar sat on a rusted bench in the galley, shoveling down a bowl of unholy culinary abominations while Lucan nursed a cup of corpse-starch brew and watched with a mixture of horror and amusement.

“You know,” Lucan said slowly, “I always figured if anyone in this Legion got knocked up, it’d be Talos.”

Sevatar flung a pickled eyeball at his head.

Six weeks later, Sevatar was miserable.

His armor didn’t fit right. His tolerance for stupidity was at an all-time low. He couldn’t spar, couldn’t skulk around the decks at odd hours, and worst of all, his reflexes had dulled just enough that Talos actually bested him in a practice bout.

The indignity.

Lucan, for his part, hadn’t abandoned ship yet. The mortal followed him like a particularly annoying dog, tolerated his mood swings, fetched him whatever strange food he demanded, and even once punched a cocky Night Lord sergeant in the face for making a joke about ‘baby bumps.’

The idiot was growing on him.

Which was a problem.

Because Sevatar had no idea what the fuck he was going to do when the time came.

He lay awake in his quarters one evening, staring at the ceiling, feeling the strange, alien sensation of something small and living fluttering in his belly.

Lucan snored beside him, dead to the world.

Sevatar sighed.

“Stupid, reckless, resilient little shit,” he muttered, one hand resting on his abdomen.

He wasn’t sure if he meant the mortal or the kid.

Maybe both.

#jago sevatarion #x oc #warhammer 40k x oc

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catgirl-for-hire · 3 days ago

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Girlfriend Ianthe Headcanons

There seemed to be a need for this and it was in my head so here ya go. Toxic girlfriend Ianthe, just beware

--------------------------------------------------------------------

I’m not going to pretend any of this will be nice, so just be prepared

(but we don’t love Ianthe bc she’s nice, we love her bc she’s awful. So have fun you fucking freaks <3 )

Obviously I can’t imagine Ianthe ever having any sort of remotely healthy romantic relationship, for a myriad of reasons, but primarily because you will always be second to Coronabeth

No seriously, every tiny mistake you make would be compared to Corona. You trip, Ianthe snaps that Corona had better balance than that when she was a toddler. You cook something mediocre, Ianthe insists Corona’s spit tastes better than this. Even if you try and get dressed up nice for her, Ianthe only muses on and on about how Corona’s hair is shinier, figure fuller, style more tasteful.

She’d never get over this habit even if you begged

But she doesn’t drag on and on about Corona all the time. No, Ianthe always has plenty of breath left to remind you how lucky you are to have her.

Lover of strange pet names, as we know. Like “Harry” is such a downgrade from “Harrowhark” it's obvious that Ianthe just spits out whatever she thinks of as a nickname. Gonad, anyone?

There's standard ones like “babygirl” and “pet” which are diminutive but not outright bizarre. But if there’s any way to abbreviate your name she will, no matter how odd it sounds. Or like with Gideon, she will replace your name with any other word that starts with the same letter. Bonus points if it can double as a degradation for when she’s pissed.

Loves sharing a bed. It’s one of the softer things about her, and you really have to squint to see it, but she takes great pleasure in having someone sleep next to her. It’s probably a subconscious need and loneliness being filled, but she’ll insist it’s because it keeps her from sinking into the center of the mattress and making a permanent dent.

Not much of a cuddler. She’d absolutely have a quiet obsession with you clinging to her, though.

This kinda goes for the whole relationship, actually. Like she’s not one to offer up much in the way of affection but if, for any reason, you stopped prompting it, she’d get all weird. Probably would very aggressively pester you asking what’s wrong, and if you do tell her, she just wouldn’t say anything and walk off again.

Assuming she actually does care, though, she would fix problems for you without saying a word about it. And if you notice and bring it up, she’d tell you that the stress was giving you wrinkles and she can’t walk around with a wrinkly partner so she just cut it off at its source. This is in fact true to her, even if she also did it because she cares. Two things can be true at once.

She’s just an attention whore at her core <3

Ianthe is actually very insistent about maintaining your appearance. She’s very materialistic, so if she feels like your wardrobe has gotten boring or your skin is dull, she’ll go out and buy you new things or ship you off for a spa day. She’s never nice about it, it’s always as if it's some moral failing on your par. But it’s almost worth it to have her fawn over you and dress you up.

When she’s pleased with you, though, she can be a real delight. Attentive, touchy, she knows exactly how to push your buttons and get you comfortable quickly. It’s a skill she reserves for when she feels it’s truly merited. Every affection in her life always had to be earned despite her being born into apparent privilege and absurd wealth. So why would she be any different with you?

#ianthe tridentarius #ianthe the first #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth #the locked tomb series #the locked tomb #tlt ianthe #tlt headcanons #headcanons #toxic relationship #toxic yuri #toxic ianthe #content warning ianthe tridentarius

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 20 hours ago

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There have been a number of fans that say that ML should have been given a rogues gallery but if this is how they're gonna do it it feels too little too late and also looks like it'll be riddled with retcons if they can't pick what they want Nathalie to be. I know you said this might be them doing the whole "Marinette is wrong" thing but I am also wondering, if they do go with "Nathalie was evil and a liar all along," if this is some sort of convoluted plot to take the heat off of Marinette, since people have been angry about her for lying and telling Nathalie to keep the secret, they could just claim (cause I can already see some Marinette stans doing this) that it was reverse psychology on Nathalie's part and she tricked Marinette somehow

Season six is basically the season of too little too late in my eyes. It's doing a lot of nice surface-level things like fleshing out the wider cast, but I don't care because it's season six. I know it's a soft reboot, but this still feels like amature hour. A soft reboot doesn't absolve you of the need to set things up in previous seasons. Nathalie suddenly having a supervillain dad is just silly and I'm still annoyed that Lila's character has no substance. She's been here since season one! She's not a new character just because they redesigned her and changed her name. We should know her motivations!

I can't even turn off my brain and play along with this being a new show - which is what soft reboots want you to do - because the weight of all the previous bad writing is still pretty in your face. If they wanted people to treat this as a fresh start, then the Adrien lies should never have been a thing. At the very least, they shouldn't have come from Marinette. It's too strong a tie to the first five seasons.

I got another ask guessing that the lies might end up being played as reverse psychology and I maintain that I would be very surprised if canon went there. I don't see them making Nathalie evil again after Werepapas and all of season five. Her redemption was laughably bad, but the writers did dedicate a whole season to her being a good guy now even if she was good in name only. Reverting her now would be sloppy even for this show.

If they do something to absolve Marinette of blame, I'd expect it to be a reveal that Gabriel's wish is secretly making her lie. They could also have Adrien find out and immediately decide that he doesn't want to know so he erases his memory after saying Marinette was correct to keep this from him.

I have no idea if they'll do either of those things though. The season six lies plot has been baffling and exhausting so far, but that's hardly surprising. It's perfectly in line with how they wrote:

Chloe's "damnation"

Felix's "redemption"

Everything with Lila

Gabriel's "redemption"

Andre's "redemption"

Everything to do with the sentikids

Feligami

The weird Adrigami arranged marriage plot

And probably more things that I can't think of right now.

#anon ask #ml writing critical #ml writing salt

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unkillable-gays · 1 day ago

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9-1-1 8.18 "Seismic Shifts" final thoughts

Disappointing, if not entirely surprising, lack of gay shit.

I'm very satisfied with (implied?) Captain Chim, though!! (Also I called that last week!) And it was so sweet and fitting that Athena helped give him the confidence to get there! 🥰 Though it's perhaps a little concerning that he's starting his rule with, "I'm locking the doors; nobody leaves." 😅 how's that work-life balance going, 118?

(Though I do feel like they made Hen seem kind of meek in order to provide a space for him to step into? Which doesn't seem necessary to me. But also I haven't watched the whole show, so I may not have the best understanding of the characters, and Icould be misinterpreting.)

It's always funny to me when they're like, "we're the 118, we're a team, we're a family!!" or whatever, and two thirds of the ensemble are nameless extras 😅😅 like, I understand why the structure of the story necessitates that, but it's still funny.

Sooo is season 9 gonna start with Buck living on the Diaz's couch?? Making things awkward even though they don't really need to be awkward? Them trying to play the part of Platonic Best Friends, and only partially succeeding?

I AM kinda disappointed we didn't get to see Buck be relieved that Eddie wasn't leaving!!! Like, I know that, textually, he wanted to transfer bc he missed Bobby, but we all know he would never have felt that lost if Eddie hadn't intended to go back to Texas. Buck was definitely a little bit about to blow up his whole life and support network bc his bestie was moving. So it would've been nice to see him react to the news, especially bc the way we jumped straight to him apartment hunting really made him seem perpetually adrift. He's literally over here saying tragic and metaphorical shit to his real estate agent.

Popular Kid Christopher foreverrrrrrr 🥰🥰🥰 he's literally got plans, Dad. (Maybe the fanfic wasn't exaggerating the number of sleepovers?)

Do you guys think Donny and Graham got a new apartment together? 👀

Does anyone else feel like it might be weird to name a baby after someone you're close to, who has recently passed? Like, just potentially confusing. Especially if it's the name the child is actually going to be called. But I say this was someone who has never lost someone close to me, or, like, named a baby. So maybe idk what I'm talking about lol. 🤷🏻‍♀️

(I'm also literally named after my own dead abuelita, but that's not the name anyone in my family has ever called me, so I don't think it counts!) (Also it's not like my mom called her by HER name when she was alive.)

Context aside though, I do think Bobby is a cute name for baby Han. Like, Chim and Maddie do seem like they'd be parents to a Bobby! 🥰

It is seeming increasingly likely that og Bobby is actually dead, though. 😬

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in1-nutshell · 2 days ago

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It's kinda cute that Rodimus still looks up to Moonie like she's invincible. Like he still thinks his big sister could go up against unicron and come out unscathed even before the outlier abilities presented itself.

I would like you to smash that illusion on the concrete and make it hurt.

The illusion has been smashed, but in the way your probably thinking.

Hope you enjoy!

Rodimus and Moonstreaker

SFW, Platonic, Romance, Familial, Cybertronian reader

MTMTE

Aka Moonstreaker isn’t invincible.

In Rodimus’s optics, Moonstreaker was the definition of an invincible hero.

Forget Thunderclash, it was Moonie who deserved the praise.

Hardworking, loyal, caring, stubborn, great with weapons, and could probably fight the DJD and win.

Nothing got to her.

No challenge or change made her weak to the pedes.

When he was grasping the whole new ‘Prime’ status, she was behind him 100% and willing to go great lengths to make sure he and the crew were safe.

Did it bother him a bit about the lengths?

Yes, but he couldn’t talk too much about that.

But out of all the years he had known his sister, the Prime had never seen Moonstreaker this… weird.

It started with the meetings.

Rodimus and the others were leaving the meeting room. Moonstreaker still sat at her seat reading a datapad. Rodimus: “Moonie? You know you can leave right?” Moonstreaker waved him off. Moonstreaker: “I know, I’ll leave when I’m done.” Rodimus: “Okay, but don’t stay too long. I can’t you have you be Magnus 2.0.” Moonstreaker raises her optic unamused and goes back to reading the pad.

Rodimus didn’t think too much about that.

Moonstreaker was more of a workaholic out of the two.

If it got too bad then he would drag her out of the room.

The next sign was how much quieter and snippier her comments were.

Sarcasm wasn’t a new thing for the siblings.

But in very small responses with extra silence?

Yeah, that was new.

Rodimus: “Can you pass the knife.” Moonstreaker: “I don’t know, can you pass Magnus the memo response?” Rodimus: “Hey! I haven’t read that one today!” Moonstreaker: “Which one?” Rodimus: “What do you mean which one.” Moonstreaker: “…” Rodimus: “Moonie—” Moonstreaker suddenly stands up and leaves the room leaving a very confused Rodimus behind. Rodimus: “Which one!?”

And just a few days ago he heard some rumor about Moonstreaker being Whirl’s roommate again.

Which was weird and… oh no!

Rodimus had been picking up some weird signs from Moonstreaker and Whirl for a while now, especially since Swerve talked about them a while back.

Maybe…

No…

But…

What if Moonstreaker and Whirl were dating?!

And for how long!?

It must have been for a while since they were starting to share the same room again after she was with Swerve.

Though it could also be because she finally had enough of the minibots talking.

But the signs!

Maybe Moonstreaker was just having a bit of an argument with Whirl.

Well, the name argument could be defined as an actual argument or a full-on physical fight.

Or maybe she was having a hard time telling him about the relationship in general.

She was a private bot and kept many private things away from him.

Maybe if he tried to coax and tell her that she had his support (no matter how much he wanted to bang his helm against the wall because OUT OF ALL THE BOTS! WHIRL?!)

Moonstreaker was sitting in the meeting room as Rodimus stayed behind. She immediately noticed that he had stayed behind… on purpose… Moonstreaker placed the datapad down. Moonstreaker: “Rodimus? Why are you still here?” Rodimus: “Can’t I stay in the same room as you?” Moonstreaker: “After a long meeting like that? I expected you to grow wings and fly out.” Rodimus: “…Okay you got me on that one. But I did want to talk to you.” Moonstreaker: “About what?” Rodimus took a bit of a vent. Rodimus: “I know about it.” Moonstreaker suddenly went rigid. Rodimus: “And listen I get it; it was your choice.” The red mech failed to see the bot behind him shake a bit. Rodimus: “I never thought you’d be in this position and all, but a new relationship is something to look forward to…” His voice trailed off when he heard the sniffling. He turned around and saw a sight that he never thought he would see. Moonstreaker looking down, clear that she was trying to hold in a sob and shaking. What in the Allspark was going on? He came to his sister’s trembling side, not quite sure what to do. Rodimus: “Moonstreaker? What—All I was going to say was congrats on the getting into a new relationship—” Rodimus is once again cut off, but this time by Moonstreaker throwing her arms around him tightly and sobbing into his shoulder.

He couldn’t believe it.

There was simply no way this was happening now.

Moonstreaker, his Moonstreaker, was crying.

The Moonstreaker who had launched herself at Megatron the first opportunity she got after hearing about his chassis getting blasted.

The same Moonstreaker who held it together for others during hardships.

The same Moonstreaker that ran with Fortress Maximus to try and stop Overlord.

The Moonstreaker who had her pede blasted off and right servo sliced and still one against a Con 3 times her size.

The Moonstreaker was now sobbing up a storm in his arms, with no sign of injury.

At that moment the illusion came down.

For this moment, Moonstreaker wasn’t the invincible force that made her enemies think twice about fighting.

Right now?

Right now, she was his sister that was crying for some unknown reason.

A reason he was about to get to the bottom of.

It took time to get her to calm down and properly talk.

She looked so much older and somber when the tears stopped falling.

In true Moonstreaker manner, she kept things short, vague, and avoided names.

It bothered Rodimus a lot, but he was already pushing and didn’t want her to shut him out.

Moonstreaker is looking at her servos. Moonstreaker: “I’m just scared Roddy. This is so new and…and…” Rodimus let her lean to his side a bit. Moonstreaker: “I—I just feel like I’m going to lose him if I keep this break up. I mean I know I was the one who suggested the break, but it was because we were barely seeing each other.” Rodimus: “And this is a romantic or—” Moonstreaker: “We agreed we’d do a month break then get back for one night and see if things could be resolved.” Rodimus: “But the status of the relationship?” Moonstreaker: “I don’t know anymore! I just… I just can’t imagine not being by his side anymore… Roddy what if he doesn’t want me by his side anymore?” Rodimus had never seen such uncertainty in his sister’s optics. She was looking at him for guidance. Rodimus pulled her into a side hug. Rodimus: “Hey now, anybot would be lucky to have you by their side, romantic or not. You have all the qualities of a great friend, best sis and…” He fake gags a bit. Moonstreaker rolls her optics at his dramatic antics. Rodimus: “…And to be a great partner for who ever you think is worthy enough to be by your side. And so, what if you guys don’t work out? There are plenty of bots out there to meet and get to know.” He flashes her a reassuring smile. Rodimus: “Whatever happens, I’ll be here, okay?” Moonstreaker smiles back at him, returning his side hug. Moonstreaker: “Since when did you get so wise?” Rodimus lets go of the hug to puff his chassis. Rodimus: “You’re talking to a Prime Moonie, of course I’ve got some wisdom to share!” Moonstreaker chuckles before getting up. She had to leave now. Moonstreaker stopped at the door before looking back with a genuine smile. Moonstreaker: “Thanks Roddy, I mean it.” Rodimus: “Of course, see ya later Moonie! Tell me how it goes later!” She nods and walks out the door.

Rodimus left that room feeling good and full of hope for his sister for whatever problem she was going to face.

He felt their bond grew a bit with that serious talk.

Maybe she would let him in on more of her personal life!

Now on to the next mystery.

Who was the mystery mech that was causing all this trouble?

By the brief description of what he got, Rodimus was still certain that Whirl was still the main suspect, but maybe it was someone else?

There was no way Whirl would display that level of maturity so there was a strong possibility of someone else more responsible than Whirl.

…Which did not narrow things down for the Co-Captain.

There were plenty of bots on the ship that were 10 times more responsible than Whirl, including himself!

No, maybe he should take a break.

Anyways Drift invited him to see the ships newest prank show, which was still pending with Magnus but Rewind wanted to give a pilot episode.

The Rod Pod was in Mirage’s bar staring at the screen. It was a live video from Rewind’s camera. He was going to Swerve’s to play a request prank. Creepy music, flickering lights and an Earth ghost mask as the final task. Magnus: “I still fail to see how this is beneficial to the ship. Megatron: “I second that.” Rodimus: “C’mon, from what I see, it’ll be good for morale!” Magnus: “I see scared bots and accidents waiting to happen.” Whirl: “Shhh! Rewind’s made it.” Chromedome dimmed the lights a bit as everyone watched the live recording. Rewind had made it pass through the doors. The bar was dimly light, noticeably the red and pink colors being the most prominent. Rewind: “Okay, now I will—” There is laughter. Swerve wasn’t there alone. Tailgate: “Wait! Swerve’s not alone in there.” Whirl: “Yeah! Two scares for one!” Rewind scoots a bit from his hiding place but freezes at the scene in front of him. Everyone watching freezes at what they are watching. It was Swerve lying on a table with the giddiest and lovesick smile on his face. And who was the bot practically straddling him and smothering his entire face with kisses and “I love you’s?” None other than… Rodimus: “IS THAT MOONSTREAKER!?” Whirl jumps up in joy. Whirl: “YES! FINALLY! SOME ACTION!” Magnus: “SHUT DOWN THE VIDEO!” CREEEEKKKK! Rewind had stepped on something, alerting the two bots on the table. The bots don’t make out what is being said thanks to Megatron accidentally hitting the mute button. But the second it was on… Moonstreaker: “REWIND! GET BACK HERE!” Swerve: “MOONIE HE DIDN’T MEAN IT!” Rewind: “SORRY! SORRY! SORRY!” Brainstorm: “Chromedome if you don’t get your Conjunx soon, he isn’t going to be around for long.” Chromedome: “Way ahead of you. I’M COMING REWIND!”

#maccadam #transformers x reader #bot buddy #mtmte x reader #mtmte x platonic reader #moonstreaker #moonstreaker x swerve

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fuckitpossumorb · 2 days ago

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Bon is back to talking about SDR because I’m insane and it’s practically the one reason I got active on tumblr despite having this account for like 7 years or smt like that.

Anyways,,, I was thinking about characters, their possible backstories and noticed that Rett feels like someone who grew up well adjusted with a family and Pyke doesn’t.

Like, okay, we know Ziggy has parents who are alive and Ko had a dad and sister but we know nothing about Rett and Pyke outside of they did have Dandy at some point with them.

Yet Rett feels like he had a family at some point. I’ve seen some people adopt the idea that his family had a ranch at some point bc of a joke in overture, but it does feel fitting to him for some reason.

I know overture got eviscerated but Rett’s characterization is the one thing Pyke didn’t 100% lie about, some of his quirks and personality traits overlap and he’s always felt like a family man, Paternal if you will. His relationship with Dandy and also with Ziggy, how quick he is to take the awkward dad with a teenage son dynamic with him, all his interactions with Ko.

He feels like he knows the steps of having a family, through ups and downs. Whenever he got the rhapsody, whether you believe he bought it or built it himself he got a massive ship with a kitchen, recreational spaces and multiple rooms. Despite being a man broken by war and looking to go away he still equipped his ship with a crew in mind. A family in mind.

On the other side Pyke… well he’s always seemed like a scrappy kid to me. He give me the impression of someone who grew up alone, never knew something like a mother or father to rely on, who what he’d everyone around him with families and safety and desperately wishes for one.

He gives me the impression he never knew his parents and grew up alone in the streets getting into fights until he got picked up/kidnapped/recluted into wherever he became a monk. Be it because of his abilities or because he was a homeless kid.

You would also spin it as him not knowing his parents by being in the monastery itself, kind of a lufti situation if you will, he was abandoned in the monastery’s doorstep and never had a mother or father just teachers, “brothers” only by title and not my emotion or dynamic.

This is still true for overture he seems like Leo found him and brought him into the fold but with Anthem saying all of that dynamic was a story it makes it SO MUCH WEIRDER.

Because it implies that Pyke, when making a long elaborate story decides to give himself a father figure and if you subscribe to the idea he and Rex had a sibling thing going on then a whole family, and the odd part is that he decides to make that fake family flawed.

Khan isn’t a perfect father, he plays favorites ans is very much rough around the edges, Rex isn’t a doting perfect sibling, Pyke despises him and thinks he would kill him if given the opportunity, something Pyke himself is also willing to do. Yet Rex looks after Pyke for whatever reason and despite their broken relationship Khan is forgiving.

NOT ONLY THAT he also makes a bigger crew for the Rhapsody! Though they are a big gaggle of misfits who dont always get along they still look out for each other no matter what, through thick and thin they are there for each other and for what.

It’s just wild to me that when given the opportunity Pyke doesn’t just give himself one attempt at a family he gives himself TWO and both of them are flawed and broken and a little weird. Neither of them are blood families either, they’re forged by bonds between people.

ALSO when he’s talking to Ziggy and references liking an old show called “the last Khan” whose main character was named Leo. Pyke made up a father he named after one of his favorite characters and maybe even modeled after, it’s whatever sure.

#they make me ill sorry #also do y’all think Pyke ever made shit up before?#like i don’t remember if it was after he got picked up from prison or while talking to Ziggy (could’ve been both) but Rett says smt like #“I know how much you like your stories”#referencing to his comic books sure #but also like #in episode 3/4 he was lying to peoples faces and shit #making up a person he isn’t for the bounty #Rett does something similar but pretty much avoids talking to people until necessary #Pyke got IN THERE #do y’all think he just pulled that type of shit before #just made shit up for the sake of it #anyways #legends of avantris #stardust rhapsody #pyke starfall #rett indigo #bon talks #text post

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crowleytakethewheel · 3 days ago

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About Crowley's angelic identity

So here's my two cents to Crowley's identity/name theories. Now, I'm rather new to the fandom, so feel free to correct me if there's something already debunked in here. I also haven't read that many theories myself, so apologies if I'm just repeating things already said (I will reference some theories I have heard of too). Anyway, this is very long and rambly, so be warned!

Since we know Crowley was definitely a higher up angel, I'm leaning on that heavily, and will be talking about this in detail in the part about Lucifer, if you wish to jump to some theories I have so far not seen anywhere (not to say nobody else has thought of them or discussed about them, simply that I haven't seen anyone talking about them myself yet).

Now, starting with Raphael, who seems to be the most commonly theorized name. Now, I can see this being the case, but at the same time it does seem a bit too simple, which is why I would be rather surprised. Personally I prefer the idea that Raphael doesn't exist - technically. I've seen some ideas of him being Crowley's alter ego, but I don't really buy that either. What I believe is that he is Aziraphale, and the name "Raphael" comes from the fact that Aziraphale has a ridiculously difficult and long name that people would just simply misshear or missremember, and then write it to match the OTHER known angelic names like Gabriel and Michael. They remember something about raphel? Uhhh make it match the others, so Raphael. The parts about Raphael sometimes being shown with red hair and black wings are simply Crowley getting caught doing something good by humans, and then claiming to be Aziraphale so he wouldn't be found out. This would explain why Aziraphale is never mentioned by name in any texts, and perhaps also why he eventually decided to just call himself Mr. Fell. His name is hard. Bonus points for this would be that all of this kinda foreshadows the ending of s2 with him becoming the Supreme Archangel, so that is also nice even if it would just be a happy accident.

Next we have Astaroth. In short, we've already been shown a demon with this name (the one that brings Furfur the clicker in s2e4, image below). On top of that, Astaroth is a name of a demon, not an angel, so it would be a bit weird since Crowley's demon name is, well, Crowley.

Now, Lucifer. I believe it has been stated that Satan is Lucifer, so Crowley isn't, BUT that is not directly what I'm here to talk about. Instead I'm going to point to something else that might give us some Clues. See, Lucifer has been credited for at least some things that Crowley has done (snake in Eden, showing Jesus all the kingdoms of the world), in a way that has essentially erased Crowley's existence from the whole christian lore. He's not mentioned even once, unlike Aziraphale, who, even if my earlier theory about Raphael is wrong, has been mentioned in passing as the Angel of the Eastern Gate. But Crowley is suspiciously, completely missing, and his deeds have been given to Lucifer. Now, if you google Lucifer's rank, there seems to be a lot of arguments about it. Some say Seraphim, some Cherubim. This alone gives us some leeway into thinking that maybe, just maybe Lucifer WASN'T the previous Supreme Archangel, and while he was very high up, he wasn't the highest, and he just has been given the credit for being that to cover things up. Metatron states how casting one prince of heaven down to hell makes a good story, and surely it's a lot better story to have the said prince be the one leading the rebellion and becoming Satan, no? Crowley never meant to fall, Crowley by all accounts isn't actually evil or malicious, so why not just credit Lucifer for everything Crowley was, wipe Crowley's memory, and pretend he wasn't anyone too important? After all, we can't have someone like Crowley be a big influence on demons given he likes asking questions and skirting around the status quo. And what of the angels that would hear about the previous prince of heaven falling for asking too many sensible questions and not actually being evil? It's better for heaven to just tweak the reality a little bit and make sure everyone thinks the first prince was just evil and became Satan.

But what's the evidence for this? I'm going to start with this scene:

youtube

I made it start from the part where I am referring to the most. Gabriel says "However, I am the only First Order Archangel in the room, or, you know, the universe" AND THE CAMERA JUMPS TO CROWLEY. This is the only time during this scene that we get a closeup on Crowley alone; there's been some showing both Crowley and Muriel at the same time, but none that have been closeups like this, and none with just one of them. If this isn't a Clue, it's an odd choice, since Crowley isn't saying or doing anything here, he's not making a face or reacting or anything, he's just shown... for no reason. At all.

Then there's his memory loss, that while not completely obvious maybe partly because he's good at hiding it, it's still there. Not remembering Furfur is one thing if Furfur was a lower angel, that's understandable since Crowley was a higher up angel, because you will remember meeting a celebrity while the celebrity might not remember you. It's a bit odd still, given how hurt Furfur seemed, and how he described their time together; he made it sound like they used to be friends. But Crowley has no recollection of this. But, like I said, that could still be understandable. HOWEVER, Crowley not remembering Saraqael who he created a whole ass nebula with? AND who is very high up also, so not a random low level angel? On top of that, Saraqael looks very distinct, someone you would remember meeting, since nobody else has been shown to travel by a floating wheelchair. You will not just forget them, especially if you work closely with them. During this scene, Crowley also seems to deflect not remembering Saraqael by just making a joke about it "I meet a lot of people", which is a rather common thing to do when you feel insecure about something.

On the same note, Crowley also seems to understand it in a deeper level when Gabriel is describing his own memory loss with feeling like an empty house, since Crowley says "I know... looking at where the furniture isn't." You can take it as him just emphatizing with Gabriel, but to me it seems more like he actually gets it, and why he adds to Gabriel's metaphor like this. He recognizes the feeling, even if his situation isn't the same; he has some of his memories, but there's gaps, they didn't take everything, and maybe some things are also bleeding through like they do for Gabriel. For example, while you could say Crowley remembered Metatron at the end from the trial he saw in heaven, it's a bit weird Michael, Uriel, and Saraqael don't, which to me suggest Crowley has earlier, deeper memories about Metatron, some he might not actively remember, but enough to be able to maintain the image and recognize him. Something is there, since otherwise Muriel and Saraqael would have just as easily recognized Metatron as well, given they did watch the trial together just before. On top of that, Metatron very specifically asks Crowley if he recognizes him, which is a pretty whacky thing to do if Crowley were just some random demon, since not even the highest up angels can. Or Aziraphale, who has in fact directly spoken to him once. To me that question seems like a test to see if Crowley has started remembering too many things. Metatron also seems VERY familiar with who and what Crowley is, and not in the way that says "ew a demon", but in a personal, vendetta like manner.

I mean, just look at this absolute hatred. That's personal. As is his offer to Aziraphale after this. Metatron very clearly knows that Crowley would never take the offer to come back. Otherwise he wouldn't have offered it in the first place.

If Crowley was the first prince of heaven, it would also explain Aziraphale's reaction to him when they first met. Aziraphale was very much acting like an adoring fan from the start, clinging to Crowley's every word, and just being delighted that he was called upon to help. Crowley, however, didn't think that behaviour was weird in any way, meaning he was probably used to it already, and as such didn't feel the need to introduce himself either. I don't think he was just being rude by not telling his name to Aziraphale, since he did reply with "Nice meeting you", it's just that obviously Aziraphale already knew who he was. And that reaction from Aziraphale would work even if he, at the time, was a Cherubim like some theories say. Crowley would still be a massive celebrity.

If this is the case, someone has spent a lot of effort on it, since they would have to remove the memories of Crowley's original identity from the minds of every angel he has met, but then I'm sure Heaven has ways of doing so... as it's unlikely they would have let angels (and demons) to remember who Gabriel used to be either, had they managed to go through with the memory wipe on him. And Metatron seems just like the type of person to be petty enough to also alter the bible and other religious works to make sure Crowley isn't mentioned there either, and that specific mentions are instead credited to Satan. Maybe that is when he had "ingested things in his time" like he said to Aziraphale when giving him the coffee.

This all could still work if they decided to use the name Raphael, but personally I believe Seraphiel would work rather well thanks to the direct link to Metatron.

If you read all this, thank you! I'd love to hear your thoughts!

#good omens #good omens theories #crowley #good omens fandom #aziraphale #crowley and aziraphale #my theory

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havinganervousbreakdownrn · 3 days ago

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Hi, about the Jonathan Sims Jane Prentiss post. Elaborate.

Omgomgomg someone asking me to talk about the Magnus Archives!! Thank you thank you so much!!

Sorry, this took a while, I knew I wouldn’t be able to get out all of my thoughts on my phone, so I had to look for my laptop :)

While listening to the absolutely incredible MAG 032 – Hive, I felt that there was a strong connection between Jon and Jane’s stories (obligatory mention on how similar their names are because it feels weird in my brain).

One of the main things that really stood out to me was during Jane’s desperate recollection of her memories, Jane tries to figure out when she first heard the song of the hive, she starts with when she saw the webs in the corners of the attics entrance (which she mentions having a “different song to the hive”, I love this detail!!) to as far back as her childhood, being told by her classmate about blackheads, which she says “that image lodged in my mind forever”, she mentions as a child, she used to watch the worms climb to surface after the rain.

I think she was hearing the song then, it was hard to come to that as a definite belief for me due to her muddled her perspective from already going through the process of becoming what we would see her become, as she seems to switching from “Jane” to “The Hive” in the statement. But my belief of it comes from her breakdown over the ant infestation at her job, I want to link this to Jon’s fear of spiders, because well obliviously you don’t get such intense breakdowns over a thing that brings you comfort, so intense she was fired. Both of them gained intense fears from their childhood, Jane must’ve been terrified from that reaction, but I think if Jane experienced something on the same scale as Jon, the Hive, which we already know could dizzy her memories, could suppress that, maybe giving her relief as a manipulation tactic?

Bringing this back to Jon, there is his experience from A Guest for Mr. Spider, which we know gave him a massive fear of spiders (and very not-dooming guilt), his reaction after reading Jane’s statement is.. Well bad. I think that it is because of the similarity from Jane’s damning since childhood to his own is what causes him to admit he KNOWS it’s not natural, he can’t will up the denial that he hides behind, he even needs to lie down after it.

BUT here’s the thing that drives me up the wall about these two! I think it’s not the similarity in their stories that connects them, it is their fates. Imagine if, you are behind five, maybe six, walls of denial and logic, to keep yourself safe from your guilt and your fears, hearing a story so close to what is your own and she turns into a monster.

Mr. Jonathan “I don’t want to a mystery” Sims, who has spent a while hunting down her story to solve her mystery, only to find that.

Jane’s fears from her childhood found her and used her body to kill and terrorise.

Jon must’ve been terrified, we’ve heard about two people dying from the worms Jane spreads and it now becomes clear she has basically become possessed. She literally has that noted as one of what seems to be one of her last true actions, before she is used as a tool. Something I want to point out now because I see so many people forget this, Jon cares about others so much. The most clear example being in Colony, when after getting Martin’s statement, he lets him stay in the archives, even saying he’d asked Elias for extra security, he doesn’t turn away from the truth (that he KNOWS) and scoff at the man he is currently trying to intimidate. No, he helps him because one of the main traits of Jonathan Sims is he really cares, no matter how scared he is. The idea that he could be turned into a monster and used to kill and terrorise people as well to be turned into something he’s not (sorry, that is a hunger games reference.) is horrific, especially as he was currently being attacked by the person who’s story he can so strongly relate to.

And then when he does inevitably turn into a monster, just like him and Jane were always going to, what should be horrifying him (just like Jane’s song and the fact it made her feel loved despite it all) felt so right.

It was always going to end like this for Jon, for Jane, and Carlos Vittery from Arachnophobia but there’s less to say about him (sorry).

In short, I say Jane’s memory haunted Jon for a long time, I think his breakdown in season 2 makes a lot of sense for a lot of reasons, but also because of the fear that he could be turned into a monster just like her, and that chance were going up higher every day, since he was eight.

#this is really long #but I had so much fun writing it #I love Jon and Jane so much you guys #jonathan sims #jane prentiss #the magnus archives #tma podcast #tma #the magnus archives spoilers #tma spoilers #i love themmm

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ishgard · 9 hours ago

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SEND ME A SHIP and I’ll tell you: I wasn't going to wait for an ask I just went ahead and did it but here's the prompt if anyone else wants to reblog it 😂

Who said “I love you” first?

Ahru has said it plenty, though it was in a more... platonic sense, before she realized it wasn't. 😂 Like she loved him so much she'd just tell him openly, but she's not too shy to tell her friends she loves them so it wasn't exactly weird. Alphinaud was the first to say it in the more directly romantic sense after they were reunited in Solution Nine.

Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background

Both, easy. Ahru would have a couples selfie with him, whereas -especially during "The Dome Years"- Alphinaud probably took a picture of some of the portraits he drew of her.

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror

Ahru starts, but mostly with silly cute doodles of Carbuncles and mandragoras saying "I love you!". Alphi quickly joins in though, it brings out the kid in him again.

Who buys the other cheesy gifts

(Define 'cheesy', I'm just gonna generalize here.) They have such complimentary gift-giving styles; they both know what the other really likes/needs/appreciates, but mix it up with surprises. I think early on Alphinaud is a lot more practical (swords, books, things she both likes and uses), but once Ahru has brought him some rare paints she finds in her travels, or a Carbuncle keychain, he softens and gets more inspired, buying her mandragora plushies, some rare spices, or a silly Tonberry-themed kitchen knife set.

Who initiated the first kiss

Fun fact, they both tried a couple of times post-Endwalker and through Dawntrail but uh. The moment evaded them every time and then there was something else to worry about. The first kiss was post-DT once things had settled down a bit and they'd had some time to talk and clear things up (namely, if he even felt the same anymore, which lmao, lol, duh). So it was very much a mutual initiation, though Alphinaud might have led into it a bit more.

Who kisses the other awake in the morning

Whoever wakes up first. (Often Alphinaud, especially outside the Dome where he's re-acclimating to natural sunlight). Alphinaud is slightly more inclined to simply watch her sleep and not want to disturb her, letting himself drink in the fact it's all real, and that she's truly there with him. On the flip side, Ahru is more inclined to kiss and snuggle him awake, she just can't resist, but she also wants him to wake up knowing she's there. (He had more than a few nights of restlessness haunted by nightmares of none of it being real, or of worst case scenarios playing out, so he very much appreciates this alternative.)

Who starts tickle fights

Okay establishing first: Alphinaud isn't particularly ticklish, he gained immunity growing up with Alisaie. On the flipside, Ahru just... isn't super used to being touched like that? She actually kind of enjoys it, if she's in the right mood, just... to be touched in soft, playful ways and laughing? It's kind of like playfighting as a kit?

And, in the most unhorny way possible, he wants to touch her in ways she isn't used to, to make her laugh, to let her body know it isn't just made to fight and ache. He won't usually do it without her permission though, but sometimes if she wants to mess around like that she'll start poking and prodding at him despite knowing he's not ticklish himself and then it just gradually dissolves into flopping around, tickling, a bit of nipping and- okay now maybe sometimes it does go in the horny direction.

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower

Ahru doesn't ask- Okay, well, first of all, she historically doesn't have a whole lot of shame, or maybe you'd call it 'propriety', and he's… her healer, lol. He's seen her in all manner of states of undress. But once they kind of get to that point in the relationship, she's still not about to go intruding on his privacy, with the added knowledge that he's a bit self-conscious* about his scars. So when he's about to get in and she chews her lip holding herself back from saying anything, it's him who asks her if she'd like to join him, which is just as much an obvious sign that he doesn't really mind if she sees them. (*rather, it's a complicated stew of him getting pre-emptively troubled by the knowledge she will be troubled by the fact she couldn't protect him, but he knows if he gets too in his head about it, she'll worry even more, whereas the scars in and of themselves don't bother either of them)

Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch

Ahru has regularly been making food for her travel companions for... a while now, so while it's always appreciated it wouldn't exactly be a 'surprise'. Though there would be that momentary realization that nothing has changed, and things are just 'going back to normal'. Now, (having increased his cul level over the last 30 years) him bond ringing to her in the middle of some guild work with lunch? That would be new and a surprise and one of the sweetest most romantic things anyone has done for her.

Who was nervous and shy on the first date

Both!!!! Now, they've probably had dozens of "almost dates", the sort of situations where they're alone and the atmosphere ends up going in that direction. But their first 'date' was a little outing of him showing her around Solution Nine post-DT and he made sure to subtly drop a "It's a date." line trying to feel out how she'd respond (because it's been thirty years for him) and then her screaming in her head repeatedly 'Is that what he meant?! A date-date?!' So. Needless to say most of the nerves were from trying to bridge that gulf. I'd say Ahru was more on the shy side trying to feel him out, while he was more on the nervous side if she'd think he was too changed too suddenly for her. They both got over it.

Who kills/takes out the spiders

Ahru doesn't like killing them but out of defensive habit, if they're in her sleeping space she will do so swiftly. Alphinaud will scoop them up in a little aether bubble and put them outside.

Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk

Ahru loudly proclaims her love when she's sober. So she's even more annoying about it when she's drunk, you can count on that. And while he exudes an air of maturity, he is 5000% a wife guy who will not shy away from telling her, I've said it so many times but he lost so much time he has learned to say what needs to be said and by the Twelve will he. Alas, he has high tolerance so it's a rare sight to see him drunk, but he will absolutely make a toast to the amazing, beautiful, incomparable love of his life, and Alisaie, groaning, will strangle him with his tie to shut him up.

#mine #au: the lightning strike #kyanite daguerre #ahru hiraeth #alphinaud leveilleur #ship: i'll tear down the sky for you

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