#does it have to be a mutual thing or can he just do it to someone

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

The Erasing of Ed’s Personhood (again).

Some interpretations of Stede and Izzy during the Rhys and Con Q&A at SFROP didn’t sit well with me.

There’s sexual frisson between Stede and Izzy in the candle scene

What canon shows: That Stede flatters Izzy into mentoring him in a similar way Ed uses flattery in 104 when telling Izzy he could be the Captain of the Revenge. It’s knowing your audience and what motivates them. But this isn’t flirting on Stede’s part. It’s emotionally intelligent leadership.

This alleged sexual frisson takes place immediately after Stede has found Ed, the love of his life, whom he has been desperately trying to find for months. For whom he has willingly given everything up. Stede cannot see another man for Ed. Stede’s whole love and sexual awakening is built around Ed. He’s Ed-emotional, Ed-sexual.

And we’re meant to believe the moment Stede is out of Ed’s presence - Ed, who has massive trust issues - that there’s a mutual homoerotic moment between Stede and Izzy, because Izzy has his shirt off and Stede says some dubiously flattering things? It’s reductive towards Ed and mocking of his character. It’s actually an incredibly cruel interpretation. It isn’t the show. It. just. isn’t. the. show.

Izzy is a good mentor to Stede

What canon shows: Stede ‘being the captain’ by asking Izzy to mentor him. Stede is putting into practice ‘keep your friends close and enemies closer’ by trying to give Izzy a role. The devil makes work for idle Izzy Hands, so keep him busy. But punching someone in the stomach, yelling at them, and telling them they have such a total lack of skills you don’t know how they’re still alive… when they rescued your sorry ass two nights previous!…does not a mentor make. And Stede doesn’t learn anything useful really. I mean at least he learned something that saved his life with Ed even if it was through flirting. The fact Stede also seems to enjoy some of Izzy’s approval doesn’t make Izzy a good mentor either. It makes Stede someone who is still wrestling with his identity, and reconciling differing aspects of his masculinity. Stede’s parental trauma causes him to attach too much significance to it.

That Stede and Izzy caused Ed’s decline and have equal responsibility for fixing the man they both love (this one boiled my piss).

What canon shows: Ed is devastated by Stede not turning up at the dock. Ed then processes some of this in a reasonably healthy way — curling up under blankets, eating marmalade, writing doggerel, talking to a friend, crying, showing pain publicly, exploring shared feelings, making a plan to feel better through art (singing), and tidying up his room. Ed is attempting to put into practice Stede’s philosophy: beauty, aestheticism, art as therapy, open emotions, talking it through.

We can’t know what would’ve happened next because the narrative doesn’t bend that way, but without Izzy’s intervention, what Ed doesn’t do is fall into the Kraken spiral. Ed is pretty much forced to a shuddering emotional halt, mid-catharsis - that in itself causes further trauma. Many therapists will tell you that stopping emotional work suddenly can be worse than never beginning at all. On top of that suppression, Ed now fears harm might be done to him should he appear weak. To say Stede and Izzy are equally responsible for Ed’s Kraken spiral is just not true.

Second, Ed isn’t an object to be fixed. Ed isn’t something to be moulded or unfolded. Ed isn’t the exotic plaything of two white men. Ed isn’t a toy or cipher or prize to be won between a bourgeois hero and some proletariat antagonist. Ed really just needs to be left the fuck alone so he can develop some self-actualisation. Let him try his innkeeper dream and fail. Let him see the world doesn’t end when he does. I truly believe Stede is the only individual who can give Ed the room and psychological safety to explore a range of human emotion and identities, as well as providing that soft place to fall when Ed inevitably needs it. And it isn’t even that Ed needs to fix himself. He just needs to be allowed to breathe and be and exist in all his human messiness, judgment-free, fear-free.

That Stede’s crying as Izzy dies shows how much he has grown to care about Izzy, that there is mutual respect, and Stede is left devastated.

What canon shows: That Stede CRIES! He cries all of the time. And I have championed this over and over. He cries in 13/18 episodes. He makes it safe for others to cry. Crying is Stede’s superpower. It helps him process emotions healthily. Stede, I believe, is crying when Izzy dies for the following reasons:

Because he’s Stede

Because he’s the Captain and he didn’t get everyone out alive (doesn’t matter the great Israel Hands can’t check a pocket for weapons).

Because Ed is devastated, and Stede loves Ed

Because Stede isn’t a colossal prick. He says ‘poor bugger’ towards Chauncey moments after escaping execution. Stede’s an empath. Stede understands the pity of it all. Stede can see the intrinsic value in most people, even Izzy. That doesn’t tell me anything about Izzy, but everything about Stede. And it doesn’t make Izzy special to Stede. It makes humans special to Stede.

Why these misinterpretations upset me so much is what it does to the validity of Ed’s characterisation. The idea there’s a sexual ‘knowing’ behind Ed’s back between the two white guys which they choose not to act upon because they decide to work together to objectify and ‘fix Ed’ instead. The idea that Izzy is a better mentor and influence than Ed. The objectification of Ed as a thing to be fixed then won. The appropriation of Ed’s emotional confusion over Izzy’s death being overlaid onto Stede also. Because Ed can’t have his own unique character arc in anything it seems. I just want Ed’s characterisation and personhood to stop being erased.

I’m still sleep-deprived so I hope this makes sense. It’s taken me a while to process.

[moonshynecybin]

seriously why would jlo say that knowing he eventually won the championship some say solely due to marc giving him a tow + falling in sepang + defending for him in valencia. now i’m thinking of vale in that podcast saying he heard from friends of spanish friends that marc didn’t want him to win the championship… i’m like 2 quotes from believing marc actually was sabotaging him in PI lmao

just bc marc was being a bit of a whiny twenty two year old does not mean he was sabotaging vale. like that man still had vale's toy bikes up next to his bunk bed lets be serious

[kurthummeldeservesbetter]

So if a Mel and Caitlyn pair up defeats a dictator and wins a war (at least the first part), a Vi and Jayce team up only ever kills kids or fucks up a mission, and l then what does a Jinx and Viktor pair do? What do the other options make?

Here are my ideas, ranking from best outcome to worst or what actually gets done.

Genuinely think a Viktor Mel pair (depending on if they both have some sort of magic) save the world. Both incredibly intelligent. Both caring but can’t be manipulated by emotions easily (influenced is a different story but damn when you’ve got a terminal illness or a dictator mom it’s hard being normal). However I think the arcane writers knew the team up would be too powerful. Also incredibly sexy. If they just had tea together once I think there would be no arcane story to tell.

Cait and Viktor. Not a lot getting done but if we’re thinking season 1 then it’s gonna be so nice and calm. They’re having tea. They’re planning our improvements for Zaun. A harp sings in the distance. They talk about Jayce. Caitlyn asks questions and listens to the answers and vice versa. World peace maybe not achieved but close.

Technically Jayce helped Cait free Vi and helped cover it up, as well as help her when Caitlyn tried explaining what was going on with Silco. Very even results. Nothing major changing here but typical for people who literally just bring out nothing in each other besides…friendship? Siblings? Idk.

Vi and Viktor would probably get along in the sense of they knew an older Zaun. (At least in comparison to Jinx.) Vi can be pretty gentle and Viktor definitely cares. Battle wise he ain’t gonna do much (the only time he really fought was when it wasn’t a good thing for anyone) but he’s bring the smarts to Vi’s streets. They’re gonna win the battle but it will be tough. Some lives may be lost but it ain’t theirs.

Mel and Vi….Vi does not like politicians. Vi does not like people from Piltover beyond Caitlyn (and maybe Jayce?) They argue the whole time. Nothing bad happens but nothing gets done. It’s mostly Vi’s fault but Mel can’t let it go. It’s been three days and they haven’t left the council room. It ends with the mutual agreement to never meet again.

Technically a Cait/Jinx pair saved Vi (after the commune) and also the conversation they had in the jail was actually civil. Don’t think a whole lot is getting done but a good battle buddies I think. There’s gonna be tension though. Lots of arguing and glares. Caitlyn’s hair is now orange and Jinx lost another finger. Lots more damage than necessary.

Mel and Jinx. Someone is dying. It might not be one of them but it’s definitely someone who shouldn’t be dead. Mel’s level-headedness barely works on Vi and it definitely won’t work on Jinx. She’s never had a younger sister. Jinx knows what buttons to push. The building is on fire.

Jayce and Jinx. Mostly everyone is dead except for Vi and Viktor somehow, or the exact reverse. They haven’t stopped arguing since they met. They just keep slapping each other like cats. Jayce keeps trying to hit her with the hammer but she’s elusive and it’s like a game of wack-a-mole. He kills a kid each time instead. Jinx won’t stop making fun of him. Someone lost a limb at some point.

Jinx and Viktor. Everyone is dead. I would say they are too but no, they’re stuck at the end of the universe with each other. It’s equally both their faults. Viktor deadnames her every time she insults him. She never stops and neither does he. They each have a shrine to their respective loved one and it’s the only places they don’t bother each other. She bleached half his hair. He poured out her nail polish. They fight till the end of time itself. Sometimes they have movie nights where their respective hallucinations (Silco, Sky) join.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 2 - Sick and Full of Pride

Mini-Series Masterlist

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, Sam Winchester/Reader (platonic), angst, fluff, mutual pining, smut, Dean's got the Mark of Cain, uh oh.

Summary/Warnings: You, Dean, and a sleeping Sam drive back to the bunker. Usual Warnings, plus light smut.

Author's Note: Dean driving does Things to me have a whole chapter with it.

Title from Drive by Halsey

Word Count: 5k

Read on A03!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3

You’ve been in the car for almost eleven hours. The drive home was supposed to be eight, Dean is by no means going slow, and—as he’s told you many, many times—he doesn’t get lost, so you’re starting to suspect that you won’t be home any time soon.

As such, you’re now trying to find a reason to very casually and inconspicuously bring up that, if you’re looking at another three hours in the Impala, you’d appreciate it if you and Dean could make the team effort to kick Sam into the back so you can move to shotgun. You rarely get the opportunity—it arises exclusively when Sam wants to sprawl across the larger bench, you made Dean pie to get on his good side, or Dean and Sam are fighting, so Sam loses shotgun privileges—so you plan to take full advantage of this one.

Dean beats you to it. He’s been drumming on the wheel for about an hour in a beat you can’t find any real pattern to, he keeps shifting in his seat, and when he meets your eyes in the rearview mirror, there’s something that’s not quite stress—but close to it—on his face.

“Do you, uh, you wanna come up here?”

You blink, leaning forward between the seats to whisper in his ear. Don’t want to wake up Sam, and, really, any excuse to whisper with Dean is one you’ll take. “Yeah, but,” you glance at the sleeping lump of Sam. “What about Goliath?”

Dean shrugs. “He can sleep in the back. He’s lanky,” Dean says your name, shooting you a small grin, and you almost fall forward. “And I want you up here.”

“Oh.” You flush, but force yourself not to read into it. Sam’s asleep. Asleep people are worse company than awake people. “Okay.”

“You’ll talk to me, right? Up here?”

He sounds a little nervous, and your words fall out in a rush of reassurance. “Of course I’ll talk to you. I lo-” You catch yourself, and focus your attention on a dial on the dashboard as you continue. “I like talking to you. I’ll always talk to you.”

“So yeah?” Dean’s voice is casual, but he’s not looking at you anymore. He’s staring at the road—which he probably should’ve been doing the whole time—and his grip has become white-knuckled and tight on the wheel. “You’ll come up here?”

“If you can get Sam out, sure-“

Dean pulls off the side of the road, pushing his door open, and stomping around the hood of Baby. You’re a little dumbstruck, not entirely sure what’s happening, and a small rap of Dean’s knuckles on the window pull you back to your senses.

You push your door open, frowning up at him. “What-“

“Let’s go.” Dean’s hand moves to your arm, but he flinches back almost immediately, like you’ve burned him. Even in just the streetlights, you could swear he’s blushing. “C’mon, Sweetheart, need some backup.”

Once you’re out of the car, rubbing your arms and watching Dean and Sam exchange low words—Dean’s sounding urgent and Sam’s just sounding a little irritated—you try to look up and down the street for some clue of where you are. It’s mostly bushes, yellowing grass, and telephone poles—so literally anywhere in the Midwest—and this old dirt road isn’t really that different from any other dirt road, but it still feels familiar. Like you’ve been on it before. And the track marks on the upcoming path look suspiciously similar to the track marks behind Baby-

Sam stands up and shuffles to the backseat with a few grumbling sounds, and Dean holds the door open for you.

“M’lady.” He makes a wide, sweeping gesture to the seat, and you give him an amused, dry look as you walk up to his side, trying not to get high on how incredibly real his boyish, proud smile looks.

“You’re very cheesy sometimes, you know.”

“Yep.” He doesn’t seem bothered, and his eyes never leave yours as you climb into the seat. “Part of my charm.”

There isn’t a good answer for you to offer him that isn’t God, it really is, so you just make a half-hearted shrug and sink into yourself, letting Dean close the door and return to the wheel.

The first few minutes are silent, and the longer you look at the passing fields, the more you feel like you’ve seen them before.

“Hey, Dean?”

He hums, and you turn your head to see his gaze flicking between you and the road.

“Do you know how much longer we have left? Before we’re home?”

“Few hours.” He shrugs, and it’s a loose movement, which is a good sign. “Traffic’s a bitch.”

You glance out the windshield to the completely empty, dark street. “Traffic.”

“Yep.”

It’s not worth pushing him on. You’re fine here—you’re fine anywhere if you’re next to Dean—and Sam looks a little more comfortable, so if the drive ends up going until morning, you won’t care that much. You might become a little more worried about Dean, but you’ve gotten used to being worried about Dean. You’d rather the worry be about he might be losing his sense of direction, or developing short-term memory loss, because we’ve definitely taken this right before instead of he’s shattering glass and doesn’t seem to do anything but look sad and it’s going to make you cry.

“So, um,” you keep your eyes on the dial from before, because looking at Dean while you talk to him is never a good idea. “You’re still feeling okay?”

“I’m feeling great. Whatever hocus pocus shit Rowena did worked wonders, Sweetheart, I’m feeling amazing.”

You smile, and something that’s been tight around your heart for months loosens. “That’s really good, Dean. I know you didn’t want to try this, but-“

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” You see another loose shrug in your periphery, and your smile grows. “I gotta listen to you and Sam more, sometimes your ideas can actually be good.”

That makes you look up at him—primarily to glare—and it’s immediately a mistake. The shadows and ripples from the streetlight, cutting over his lips and jaw and cheekbones in the night, are making him look somehow more attractive, and you think it’s because of the joy. Dean’s grinning between you and the road, and there are no burdens pushing his shoulders down or weighted over his handsome features, and his whole face looks happy.

“Um,” you swallow, unable to tear your gaze away from Dean. “What’s the betterlust feel like? What does it want?”

Dean pauses, and he clears his throat in a deep, rough sound that is incredibly unproductive for actually focusing on his words.

“Feels like the bloodlust, I guess. I don’t, uh, it’s like a hunger.” Dean runs one hand carefully over the wheel, glancing at you with darkened eyes you can’t read, but want to watch you forever. “But for really specific things. And if it doesn’t get those things, I get…” He trails off, shaking his head slightly. “I feel like shit.”

“Like a craving?”

“Exactly like a craving.” Dean shoots you a grin that’s all pleased teeth, and you couldn’t look away from him if you tried. “Kinda like when we’re on a stakeout and suddenly you want a burrito, and if we don’t get you a burrito you start to get all mean and whiny.”

“I do not get mean or whiny-“

Dean chuckles, shaking his head. “You get very mean and whiny. I ain’t gonna forget when you threatened to castrate Sam because he brought you a salad.”

“And I won’t forget that you backed me up, Winchester. You offered to get my knife.”

“Because you were being mean and whiny, and I’m not looking to ever get castrated.” He gives a fake, overdramatic shutter. “The loss of Dean Jr. would hit many people very hard.”

You flush, whacking his arm. “Asshole, I was not going to castrate you-“

“You would.” He shoots you a wink. “But don’t worry about it. I appeased the monster, and everything’s intact and functional down there.”

It takes effort to roll your eyes, because you know he’s not even taunting you on purpose. Dean has no way to know that you’d never castrate him—you probably weren’t going to castrate Sam either, the point was more to put the fear of God in him for thinking salad was an acceptable alternative to burrito—because the monster he was teasing you about lived in your abdomen and only roared for him. It reared it’s head at the deep, rolling sound of Dean’s voice, grew warm and sensitive at every brush of a big, rough hand on your skin, and was fed by any sliver or scrap of attention he threw you. The only way to truly appease the monster was to let it out of where you’d trapped and desperately ignored it, and the only way to let it out was for Dean to look at you, and not stop.

But you’d learned to deal with that. As long as the monster was tended to, kept in line and from falling out of your mouth with a shout of Dean! I love you! Please look at me, because I really, really love you! You’d be fine.

“Fine.” You sigh. “I’ll give you mean, but I have never been whiny in my life-“

He gives you a flat look of amusement. “You’re a little whiny right now, Sweetheart.”

There’s no way for you to win this argument, Dean’s backed you into a corner you’re more than happy to be in—it means he’s smirking at you, unbelievably pleased with himself, and he’s drumming on the wheel again—so you just roll your eyes.

“Shut up.”

“Uh huh.”

You flip him off, he lets out a loud laugh, causing Sam to stir in the back seat.

“Dean,” you hiss, your hand shooting up to cover his mouth. “Quiet-“

He scoffs, pulling your hand down. “Sam’ll be fine, he’s slept through more than me laughing. Don’t know where the hell his hunter instincts go when he knocks out, but nothing short of a hurricane is gonna wake him up now.”

“I know that, I’m just,” you glance at your hand, back in your laps as still buzzing where your palm had covered Dean’s lips. “He’s been really tired.”

Dean’s grin drops slightly, eyes flicking between you and the road. “What about you.”

“What about me?”

“Are you tired?”

You pause, trying to get a read on your own body. Your eyelids do feel heavy, and your body does have that strained feeling of exhaustion between your muscles and bones, but you’ve been more tired. And moments like this—just you and Dean, talking without any worries or sadness or pain—are so rare, you don’t want to miss any of it.

“I guess. But-“

“Get some sleep,” Dean says your name in a stern voice, his attention fixed back onto the road. “We’ll be home soon.”

You blink at him, and realize he’s taking the first left turn in almost three hours. “I’m fine, Dean-“

“You and Sam have been working overtime for me,” he grunts, shooting you a firm look that’s not angry, but firm. “You both deserve some rest. I’ll get you up when we’re back.”

You’re going to argue—to push back and try to explain that you can sleep later, you’re not really that tired and you’d choose talking to Dean over almost anything—but he turns up the music and that’s it. You’re not moving him on this, and if he thinks you need rest, he won’t talk to you until he deems you’ve rested.

It’s insufferable, and annoying, and so fucking impossible to fight with how he won’t stop looking at you with concern, until you sigh, curl into your seat, and pretend to close your eyes.

You’ve gotten good at faking sleep around Dean. At keeping your eyes just open enough to watch him like, admittedly, a creep, and savoring the moments where he’s just himself. He’s not trying to perform the big hero and protector and fighter role for you and Sam that he’s so good at—despite what he seems to think—because you and Sam are both, allegedly, asleep.

Well, Sam’s definitely asleep. But you’re drifting, toeing the careful line between the hazy fantasies that run through your head on loop and the reality of Dean, right next to you and so damn pretty.

He’s always so pretty, and right now he’s alive. He’s purely Dean—entirely himself, which is and always has been more than enough—and it makes his every movement electric. Every dart of his tongue over his lips—pink and full and probably soft and well fit on your own—makes you salivate, and that makes you wish he’d run a broad, thick finger over your mouth, wiping away the slight drool.

He’s drumming on the wheel again, and it turns into some sort of rhythmic lullaby, moving you higher and higher until everything is Dean.

It’s his strong, firm arms wrapping around you and flexing as he moves the wheel, and pinning your hands above your head with big, calloused hands you could swear keep brushing over your cheeks. It’s those lips that drive you insane pressing small, soft kisses all over your body before moving to your lips and turning desperate and rough. Dean’s tongue down your throat and his nose suddenly bumping against your clit.

He’s moved, down, down, down your body—you can feel marks that never really formed but are still sensitive and blissful from Dean’s presence—and suddenly you’re so needy you might die from it. You can still see Dean—the actual Dean, his eyes locked on the road in reality but focusing only on you in your head—and you can’t focus on anything else. His hands gripping the wheel are suddenly holding and kneading at your hips, but still deep inside you, pumping in and out in the same rhythm of the song.

It’s mostly fantasy now. You can smell the leather and whiskey and amber of Dean, your Dean—not your Dean, not your anything unless it’s here, in your half-dreams—and hear his humming, feel the heat radiating off his body. And it’s all feeding into each other, and now you’ll never come down. It will just keep being Dean’s hands on you—tossing you around like a ragdoll but touching your skin in a way that’s painfully careful—and body caging yours in. His full lips sucking and nipping at your neck and breasts and inner thighs, his tongue flicking at your nipples and clit and running over your teeth. Dean hold you down, up, under him or above him or against him, touching you however he wants because God, you’re not needy and desperate by any means but it would feel so good for him to use you. To be the cause of his post-sex swagger walk—as you and Sam have deemed it—or receive one of those cocky winks over breakfast. To hear him praise you, or praise him, or do anything he asks because he always does most anything for you.

Except this. This one thing—playing with you until you’re screaming his name and seeing stars—is the only thing Dean hasn’t done for you. Won’t do for you. You’ll never ask of it, you won’t be able to handle it when he says no aloud in a deep, gruff apology, and so you’ll just live here. In fantasy, where Dean’s attention is fixed on you and never strays. Because in this fake world, it’s only you and Dean, and you could like that forever.

And, right before sleep pulls you under, you could swear that Dean’s eyes on your are deep and blown-out with hunger, and realer than anything else in the world.

——————

Dean was starting to get the hang of this. It was surprisingly easy to do most of what the betterlust demanded, because they were things Dean already did all the damn time. Driving was an obvious one that he’d latched onto almost immediately—something in Dean’s brain had always felt a little easier to live with when he drove, and his hands never felt dirty when he was holding Baby’s wheel—and was easy to feed. Dean had to drive, because that’s how they got around. She and Sam knew him well enough to not try and ask and drive themselves, and it was part of Dean’s job to drive them between cases and the bunker, so satisfying the betterlust had pretty much been handed to him as a quick, easy fix.

But the trick seemed to be not feeding it too much. Taking just enough to satiate the betterlust into something that didn’t make him feel sick and hot, but keeping it from going overboard, because it was really fucking easy to go overboard. To get in the car and know that the drive could be short, but Sam had knocked himself out and She probably wouldn’t be far behind, so if Dean missed two or three turns or drove in an overly complex circle for two hours, nobody would stop him. They were only an hour from the bunker, nobody seemed to be upset by the additional time in Baby, and driving sent Dean’s head into some sort of humming, blissful joy he’d never felt in his damn life. It was like the quiet ease of driving had been duplicated, amplified, then shot right into his blood.

And two or three turns turned into nine or ten, and two hours became four. And She didn’t fall asleep, and the betterlust started to get hungry again. He couldn’t stop glancing in the rearview mirror at Her drop-dead gorgeous face that couldn’t be his, and wanting her. Wanting Her to say one word to him, or smile at him, or sit just a little closer so he could offer the betterlust something. Anything that wasn’t this starving, tortuous, ugly need for Her. Closer closer closer, never close enough and She needs to be closer so Dean doesn’t rip off his own skin from how it’s boiling or pull out his tongue because it’s starting to cave in with words he’s not allowed to say.

Dean didn’t trust himself to talk to Her, but the longer she was awake, within his reach, and invading his head with Her everything, the closer he felt going batshit insane. He had to keep himself in fucking check, and figure out what he could be allowed to do with this.

He could not be allowed to touch Her. Touching Her was dangerous. Touching Her made this high feel like he’d died in the best way possible. Touching Her was like all the simple easy of driving and the sweet taste of pie and humming strength of a good drum line in a song that pounded in Dean’s chest were rolled into one thing that was soft and warm and just real good. The betterlust fall entirely silent just when his hand brushed against Her’s, then became loud and feral when the contact was taken away. Touching Her was so good that it made everything else became pointless. Touching Her was the best, so Dean could not be allowed to touch Her because then he’d never stop.

And this wasn’t dangerous. It was just driving, and everyone knew Dean loved driving, and Dean felt like he could walk away from this. That, when they parked and She and Sam shuffled back inside, Dean was strong enough to ignore the hungry voice in his head and itch in his hands to just start driving again. Just like how he’d eat a cheeseburger, but he didn’t always need to eat a cheeseburger. He’d eat pie, and then walk away. Dean could control this. The betterlust was easy to feed, and better to feed—She’d really nailed it on the head with that—and nobody got hurt.

As long as Dean kept himself under control, nobody got hurt.

So Dean could talk to Her. Be near Her with the knowledge that, if he let his gaze linger on Her peaceful, sleeping face for too long, he’d be more of a goner than he already was and never be able to look away. It was safe to do in the car, where he could pull his attention away because of safety and immediately offer the betterlust some more driving the fill the loss of Her. Dean could keep driving, and look at Her in moderation, and nobody would have to freak out about certain people being in love with certain other people, or an annoying, third person who was a massive lump in Baby’s back seat getting a smug I told you so face.

Sam was wrong, though. There wouldn’t be anything to be smug about with Her and Dean, because Sam was wrong. As they neared the bunker—for real this time—it was just Dean, the rumble of the engine, and the music, Dean fell further into his head. Usually the music could drown his thoughts out, but the betterlust was so determined to have Her that he needed to grab it and shout that having Her wasn’t a fucking option. Dean could offer the betterlust whatever it wanted, except Her. He tried to reason with it—She’s too good, Dean isn’t close to good enough, and She doesn’t want him so he can’t lose her over something dumb like feelings—but it didn’t seem interested in Dean’s flawless, rational logic. The betterlust just wanted Her in every way possible, and Dean couldn’t get Her, and this might be worse than the bloodlust. This was unfixable, and Dean wanted it just as much as the betterlust, and his chest was going to cave in on itself and take his heart down into his stomach, pressing it to tiny pieces and pushing it out so everyone could see how little control Dean had over his own goddamn body.

He’d have to get through this. They were only ten minutes from the bunker, and he’d work out how to see Her in moderation, and She wouldn’t get uncomfortable from how much of a sick, twisted, perverted son of a bitch he was, and he’d have Her as he was allowed to and never lose Her. He’d do every other thing that fed the betterlust, and nobody had to get hurt. The whole point of this was to stop the hurt, so Dean would get a fucking grip and live with what She and Sam had worked so hard to get him.

Then She started moaning. Dean thought it was just a noise of discomfort at first—he even slowed down so he didn’t disturb Her—but then she did it again, and it was breathless and needy and he was going to die. He could feel his face turn red, feel how his jeans were suddenly painful to wear and all the blood in his body was focused and throbbing where Dean needed Her, and all his plans of keep Her close but still at a manageable distance went out the window. Her lips were parted as Her breathing became heavy, She was squirming slightly in the seat under the touch of whatever the hell was doing that to her in her dreams, and Dean might have be forced to jump out of the car if he wasn’t already pulling into the bunker.

There was a long moment—right after he turned off the engine—where the only sounds were Sam’s snoring and Her moaning, and Dean wondered if this was hell. If Rowena had actually just killed him in that kiddie pool, and he was being tortured with Her looking and sounding and being like something he wanted to eat but was just out of his reach, all while his little brother slept in the back seat.

Dean adjusted himself in his seat—hiding his boner from Her view and blocking Her from Sam’s—and cleared his throat as loud as he possibly could.

Her eyes blinked open—hazy and blown out from either sleep or Her dream—and even Her adorable, sleepy yawn made Dean twitch in his pants.

“Hey,” She rolled a little onto her side, pushing herself upright, and Her voice sounded airy and soft and Dean could not look Her in the eyes. “Are we home?”

Dean grunted, nodding, and he had to get out of here. If he didn’t, he’d either kiss Her or explode. “Just parked,” he muttered, clenching his fists on Baby’s wheel in a slow pattern that usually calmed him down, but right now was doing jack shit. “Gonna go get some food.”

She hummed, leaning forward into Dean’s periphery with an expression he recognized as Her Dean, please be okay one. She was trying to kill him.

“Are you-“

“I’m fine. Hungry.” That wasn’t a lie. Dean was starving, just for something that wasn’t exactly food. It was right at his side, and probably wet and bitter in a way that would be so fucking good, and moan and whimper like a song, would shiver at his touch and grind on his hands and face and cock and-

He had to get out of here.

“Got pie in the freezer,” Dean said, pushing Baby’s door open in the way that he always yelled at Sam about. Too rough and reckless, practically punching her open, and he didn’t have the time to chastise himself or apologize to his car, because he had to go. “Wake up Sam for me.”

“Dean-“

“I said I’m good.”

“I know, but can you, can you please just look at me-“

Dean’s head turned of its own will, and it was the biggest mistake of his life. Her face was still slightly flushed, and she looked so nervous and worried, and her eyes were scanning over his face the same way they did in his dreams. Where he’d be covered in blood, and She’d look him over with care that never seemed to waver with doubt, and guide him into the shower. Strip them both, pull Dean under clear, steaming water and kiss him as all the blood was washed away. He’d be allowed to roll Her nipples between his fingers, and shove his knee between her thighs, and kiss Her until she said his name-

“Dean-“

He had to shake his head, force the spell of Her out of his vision and head and blood, and grab the betterlust by the throat to stop it from grabbing Her face and pulling it to his. She wouldn’t want that, and She shouldn’t do things she didn’t want to do, and Dean couldn’t be near Her like this. He still couldn’t control himself, and all of this had been a mistake because he could hurt something bad and sit in the guilt and hatred but still have Her, but now he couldn’t have Her at all.

He wasn’t even sure what his excuse was, but within the next ten seconds he was half running out of the garage, into the bunker, and locking himself in his room like some sort of feral animal. A beast that had to lock itself away from the people he loved, because they didn’t deserve him and he couldn’t force them to do more for him, and couldn’t stand to ask for what he wanted and be denied.

But he could get control back. He could find the smaller things that the betterlust wanted and keep feeding them. Drive and eat and maybe watching some fucking TV. Listen to music until he went deaf and work on Baby and stay the hell away from Her. She was dangerous to him. Not Her herself—She was awesome and cool and hot and Dean wanted Her on his face or lap or under his body, which was the problem—but the way the betterlust seemed to tunnel vision onto Her. The way Dean would just look at Her and his whole body would start to ache and boil and twist until he was talking to Her. And the more he spoke to Her the more he needed to touch her, and a little more control would slip, and eventually he’d just be unable to leave her side.

The distance was going to hurt Dean more than Her anyway. He’d figure out how to control this and immediately seek Her out when he did—She probably wouldn’t even notice he was avoiding Her—but until then he had to stay away. He’d agreed to this for things to be easier, not for himself, but for Her and Sam.

Staying away from Her would be easier for everyone. No complicated, emotional, chick flick conversations. No rejection. No showing Her that he wasn’t the strong, immovable man she was friends with and being tossed out onto the curb. Dean didn’t ever want to lose Her, this would make Her walk away—She wouldn’t want him, because she’d seen every single part of him and nobody would want them all—so Dean had to keep himself under control.

And it would be fine. Dean had control now, and he could feed the betterlust with so many other things, so this would be easy.

End Note: Answer to the last note - I am incapable of writing a short and sweet chapter, I had to make the whole mini-series an extra chapter, send help.

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

If you want to be tagged, just ask!

Taglist

@artemys-ackles @brtodd @panicking-outside-the-disco @megara0224 @underground-secret

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @spacecowgirl126 @globetrotter28 @aylacavebear @lovewolfspirit

[lumineary-arts]

Can you explain more about the Thuzi relationship in your murder drone swap au please? I am in LOVE with your AU and while i am a Nuzi shipper for life, i am interested how Thad and Uzi relationship is like with them being in V and N’s role respectively.

This is gonna be a DOOOOZY so sit back and enjoy the essay!

Back in the mansion, Thad and Uzi 100% had mutual crushes on each other. Uzi was the tomboyish maid who didn't always love doing her duties and she ESPECIALLY didn't like being bossed around, but there were a few things making it worth it. For one, there was her bond with Nori, there was the fact she needed to look after Doll, and then there was Thad.

In the mansion he was always super friendly and chill. Very outgoing despite their situation. Even though Lizzy gave her shit a lot of the time just for being.. her, Thad was extremely kind to Uzi. He'd lightly flirt with her a lot, they bonded over her interests, and it was obvious to both of them that they had a good thing going.

When their memories got wiped and they got turned into Disassembly Drones, his personality seemed to do a 180. All of a sudden, though he was still outgoing and flirty, he was also violent, smug and acted, for a lack of a better term, like a douche. She still liked him though, she felt like she could kinda see beyond that. I mean.. sure they spent less time together, given how he spends a lot more time ripping the entrails out of whatever poor worker drone he set his eyes on... but he was still Thad. They had a.. thing going on... she thinks. She can't remember. But, she still liked him.

But when she met N, this sweet and nerdy worker drone who actually got along with her really well and seemed to always have his heart in the right place, she really started to tolerate Thad's "bully" behavior towards him a lot less. N wasn't really throwing punches back in Thad's way so that made it hard to watch. She was usually the mediator between them and being way more hot-headed than N was, she often got into arguments with Thad every time it happened. By Episode 3, she realized she wasn't crushing on him like she was before.

Even with that though, she still cared about him so much. When he sacrifices himself in Episode 6 she's beside herself. Overall, Thad's still extremely important to her and she does love him, just not in the same way she did before. They're very very close to this day.

On Thad's end of things, his personality change after their transformation was more of a facade than anything. He took on a violent, macho persona because it made him feel safer and more in control of himself, even though he still had the traumatizing memories of the mansion. He remembered Uzi and their mutual crushes, his feelings for her hadn't went away. But for whatever reason, he found it was easier to push those emotions away because they just reminded him of the mansion and what Doll did. And THAT, he couldn't handle.

He prioritized killing worker drones because in some ways, it was fun and he was at the top of the food chain. If he did that, he'd survive, so would Uzi and Lizzy, and he could get a sadistic kick out of ripping his prey apart. Something that he used to cope. This was his life now, he might as well enjoy it.

But then there came N, convincing Uzi to make peace with the worker drones and somehow Thad ended up.. "allying" with them in a way. N was scrawny and an easy target and so obviously had a thing for Uzi, it was lowkey annoying. Thad played along with their truce, but he still took the opportunities to mess with and pick on N since he felt a weird bit of antagonistic hostility toward the little guy.

I think Thad could sense Uzi's feelings for him fade over time, with every moment he stayed uncooperative and antagonistic, and it lowkey saddened him. But he couldn't really change how he was acting. It was his way of coping and if it meant losing Uzi overtime, then.. so be it.

But luckily for him, she never seemed to wanna drop him completely. She still cared about him and he still cared about her. His romantic feelings for her faded over time, especially after she and N started dating for real. Besides, he's alive, they're still friends, he has another friend in J.. he can finally kinda start living a normal life.

So they're good. He and Uzi are alive, and they're good. <3

chat its 2am does any of this make sense to you

[anosrepasi]

So after thinking about it a bit, I think Zara's project on Lucanis failed because she made one huge critical error.

She chose the wrong Dellamorte.

Lucanis was supposed to become an Envy demon. Which. Makes a lot of sense, especially for DAI players who did the Champions of the Just mission and dealt with an Envy demon in that game. Those things are scary and have the potential to do a lot of damage when used strategically.

Now comes the biggest issue... Zara was never going to get a Envy demon from Lucanis. Despair? Pride? Rage? Yeah, he could have become one of those. The rage one in particular I think would have been a real problem, he hides it really really well but Lucanis is hella spiteful in general and lets rage direct him, especially when it comes to the quest with Zara.

Meanwhile, all she has to go off of what Lucanis is like is what Illario tells her and what she can piece together about Lucanis based on Illario himself. And Illario is incredibly envious. Zara probably saw that and assumed that Lucanis would be similar, that the two cousins probably were mutually antagonistic to each other and coveted the others position—Lucanis as the favorite, and Illario as the spare who could do pretty much whatever he wanted.

So Zara does the logical thing and thinks, this is an opportunity to create a demon of exceptional caliber. That's why she bothers to gloat over Lucanis so often, and make a point of letting him know that everyone thinks he's dead.

She's expecting him to get angry over it, to turn the blame on his cousin and the Crows for abandoning him, to start resenting them moving forward with their lives while he's in a prison getting tortured and rotting away despite him being the supposed favorite grandson.

The flaw in this, all of this, is that Lucanis loves his family and wouldn't think to blame them.

Illario though? If the roles were reversed? Illario would become an Envy demon so fucking fast.

--

Also sidenote pondering, but I think Zara would find it really interesting that there is a moment in the game where Lucanis is on the edge of actually becoming a demon if the Devs weren't cowards and wrote the game with some stakes in line with the previous games:

When it's revealed that Illario was the one who betrayed Lucanis the whole time via Zara corpse whispering, and Lucanis responds to the question about what he's going to do about Illario? "I'm going to take everything from him."

We've had rage and pride demons before, and Zara is noted in her codex on demons to talk about wanting the prison to plumb the depths of emotions that demons could be made from. We haven't had a Wrath or Retribution demon before if I'm not mistaken and yeah. Lucanis would have made on hell of a difficult Wrath demon to deal with.

[luins]

wip wednesday

i wasn't tagged directly but i did see @eddiebabygirldiaz and @sharpbutsoft share their wips on my dash (which i am SAT for btw 👀) and felt inspired to share the thing i've been working for the past week.

i've shared parts of this before. it's for my "didn't know they were dating and buck absolutely loses his mind trying to find out who eddie's new boyfriend is" fic, which right now is titled code red in my docs for reasons (but that name will most likely change).

Eddie furrows his brow again. “I wouldn’t make you sleep on the couch, Buck.” There’s that rosy flush to his cheeks again. 

Now it’s Buck’s turn to furrow his brow. He really does feel sick now, the unease in his entire body growing, as he brings himself to ask, “How would your boyfriend feel about that?” 

Eddie, to his credit, looks just as confused as Buck is feeling right now. He pulls away his hand - Buck once again tracks the movement - and lets it fall uselessly to his side. “I- what? I don’t know. How would my boyfriend feel about that?”

He’s looking at Buck like he knows the answer. 

“I think I should head home,” Buck decides after a long silence during which he and Eddie just stare at each other. 

Eddie’s face falls. “Okay.” 

Just for a moment, he looks completely devastated. Buck can see the muscles in his jaw working as he schools his features into a mask of neutrality again and steps aside so that he’s no longer between Buck and the door. 

Buck flexes his fingers, tightening his grip on his duffel bag. For some reason, he feels like he just made the wrong decision but- he can’t spend the night in Eddie’s bed when Eddie has a boyfriend. That’s a line he won’t allow himself to cross. 

Before he is able to actually make it out the door, Eddie reaches out and holds him by the arm. “Just… Text me when you’re home, please?” 

“Of course,” Buck replies automatically. How can he not when Eddie is looking at him with his big brown pleading eyes? It seems to be enough for Eddie, because he lets him go after that. 

Once he’s in the Jeep, Buck puts his forehead against the steering wheel and lets out a deep sigh.

i don't really have anyone to tag but i AM tagging some mutuals in case you do have something you would like to share. 😌🥰 @sleepylothcatbuck @eddiesbian @moonyslesbian @markofalover @cafecitoeddie @girldadbuckley

[starrycassi]

VERY old and uncooked au I have where Viktor (and eventually jayce) end up working for Silco.

PART 1 - VIKTOR (childhood, adolescence, survival)

Singed actually takes the child in. Yeah I know Viktor technically HAS parents but we've never seen em in the show so I'm ignoring them

So Viktor now lives + works for singed. He gets over his morals real quick when faced with a fully equipped laboratory. He's a child, okay? He gets excited and is eventually groomed (I don't mean romantically, just like molded) by singed into agreeing + obeying all the things the older man tells him. Silco joins in on the part later and toys with his brain as best as he can

Singed uses him as a bargaining chip with Silco. An investment, if you will.

A bit of a "future promise" thing. Viktor actually agrees to this because he knows it's the best shot he's got. All the years living alongside Singed have made him into a more cynical/realistic person. He's 13 and already grumbles at "kids these days"

And Silco is an opportunistic man. He looks at this young, blooming genius and goes "yeah, why not? He is your problem, though. Have some money and make me a bomb"

Viktor also gets a pretty decent gun and shooting lessons. His aim is decent enough. He also hangs around sevika A LOT. He recognizes her as the strongest, safest individual if a fight breaks out and tells her ad much. She won't admit it but the praise feels good. She allows him to hover around and he helps her with small things like lighting hee cigarettes or refilling her flask. It's a symbiotic relationship where they both look at each other dead in the eye when someone is saying stupid shit.

So Viktor is like 15 and suddenly faced with even MORE power and recognition, even MORE fundings and accomodations.

This boy pours his life and time into making weapons. His dreams of being a scientist are slowly forgotten as both Singed and Silco effectively turn him into their perfect little genius.

They turn his desire to help against himself, telling him that the only way the under city will ever get better is if they go against piltover and win (which yeah I mean it kinda makes sense) and just general promises and such

Silco is genuinely surprised by how inventive the kid can be, and in return Viktor appreciates the man's offers and words for what it is: a trap he's wilfully walking in.

Silco does NOT feel any affection for the kid. At least not a lot more than he does for sevika or any other loyal worker. He is amused by his intelligence and somewhat entertained by his ideas. He seems Viktor as more of a small dog he's raising, expecting him to develop sharper and sharper fangs. He does care for Viktor in the "one of my youngest workers is more efficient and savvy than five of yours" way

Viktor doesn't feel any affection for Silco, either. He's a really down-to-earth kid, has lived in the fissures all his life and has been coached by singed into how to navigate the under city. He knows singed doesn't really trust the man and doesn't plan on doing so himself. He does love the opportunity he's given, but knows damn well that it's all done for a higher reason.

He does feel a connection with singed, though. It's mutual in a way. More of a mentor-mentee thing than any paternal/familiar relationship, but they're both satisfied with it. Singed respects Viktor and treats him as an equal, which also means he can a bit too harsh on what is essentially still a fragile teen.

They are protective of Viktor only in the way one is protective of their own gun

PART 2 - VIKTOR (last of his teen years, young adulthood, rage)

EVENTUALLY Viktor manages to worm his way into the academy (in the same way he did in canon) while hiding from Silco, Singed and Sevika, and is, instead, rejected. Heimerdinger is too weary of Viktor and his general attitude (for a good reason) and plans on having him interrogated. When he tries to get Viktor to walk alone into a room with him, Viktor panics and starts stuttering out explanations. He knows his position in the under city is conditional. Knows the leash that Silco has around him. The academy could be his safe haven and now he's losing it.

Heimerdinger does his best to try and calm him down, however, every word he says makes the situation worse. He's so clearly out of touch, promising things that could never be done.

Viktor is under a lot of pressure and just starts spiraling. Everything the yordle says makes things worse and worse. The commotion calls the school guards attention and Viktor gets almost thrown in jail, all while heimerdinger tries to tell the guards to let him go. Viktor eventually manages to sneak out but fucks his leg up even more in the process.

He returns "home" and, refusing to cry for such a thing, turns his sadness into bright, burning indignation. Silco might be an idiot, he realizes, but he's right about some things. He burns down the uniform after ripping it into shreds.

After all of this, he abandons any dream of ever getting out. Singed looks at him knowingly, tells him that sneaking around is a fine art he hasn't mastered yet, and leaves. Silco welcomes him back with a satisfied smile, and a "see, boy? I was right"

Silco isn't killing Viktor for his betrayal because he smells the heartbreak and KNOWS that this is the time to attack if he wants that boy to be on his side for the rest of his life. Sevika isn't even mad. Just kinda disappointed.

And it WORKS. Viktor is devastated and isolated, and Silco effectively positions himself as the only current logical option. Viktor knows that this is all a shit show but decides that there's nothing to lose by working for the biggest kingpin on the city

Years go by, Viktor becomes part of silco's inner gang. He develops what could be seen as a friendship with sevika. They drink together every so often, trash-talking the rest of the henchmen in hushed whispers in between assignments. She tries to give him life advice in cryptic ways. He kinda gets it. Most of the time.

He's also a bit of a slut. I mean he's young, hot, kinda part of Zaun's elite, smart... yeah he's getting around. This part is important I swear. No it's not I just want Viktor to get it on. He's constantly sneaking pretty boys in and out of wherever he's staying at that week (idk where the fuck sevika sleeps. Do silco's henchmen just sleep in his house??? Does he provide apartments?? I need to know)

People in the under city actually start *talking* to Viktor as he gets older, realizing that he's a bit less violent than the rest of silco's thugs. This is always weird to him but he endures it for the sake of staying on top of what's being said in the city.

He buys from benzo frequently, and Benzo tolerates him because once, very slowly and in a hushes tone, he heard Viktor tell Ekko to never work for anyone with a shark aquarium.

PART THREE - MEETING JAYCE.

He's in the very same shop when he meets jayce.

He goes "yeah I could get him to suck me off probably" and tries to approach

And then jayce pays in GOLD and DOESN'T HAGGLE

And he realizes that this idiot is a piltie. He also realizes that whatever the fuck he just bought could've been useful for him and silco will not like it if a PILTIE out of everyone takes them. He literally gets in between him and the door with absolutely no idea of what he's going to do (there is absolutely no way he's upping that payment sorry silco you are no match for the Kirammans)

There is no time and he defaults to "oh this is my bedroom" mode.

Cue him saying something like "I've never seen such a pretty face in this store. Are you from around here, darling?"

Ekko is gagging in the background.

They flirt yada yada I have the scene but it's too long to write here. U get the idea. I'd anyone wants to read that ask me but for now just use your imagination

Viktor offers Jayce to come back with him to his house. Ask this is happening the kids are staging the heist.

They make out a bit, Jayce tells Viktor all about his theory (which is arguably hotter for Viktor) and shows him his notes (because obviously he carries his journal with him)

Viktor is BLOWN AWAY by this. He gets all worked up. Never felt this horny before. They discuss for a while, and Viktor decides that THIS is something he can stand behind. Actual discoveries, not just drawing blueprints after blueprint of the same fucking thing

Really how many ways can one design a weapon in

Anyways

Viktor sort of mildly drugs jayce and steals three of the shiny orbs and then wakes Jayce up and tells him that this was delightful and such.

PART FOUR - Hey Silco Can We Adopt This Boy. For Science

The heist happens the very same way. Viktor hears about it, about the trial, and decides that all these years of work should get him some privileges

He has his very first actual fight with Silco and Singed about it, but they eventually and very reluctantly agreed to give him two bodyguards so he can go play prince and break jayce out of jail.

Silco knows that even a worm will turn. If Jayce does agree to work for them, then they get another good worker. If not, they can always kill him. He's never heard Viktor this adamant about someone before, and damn he's seen the boy walk around with some pretty faces. Maybe this Jayce fella truly is smart.

Viktor breaks jayce out do NOT ask me how #thepoweroflove or whatever. The henchmen get to punch enforcers so they're happy about it.

The "am I interrupting?" Scene happens. It's also too long so.

It takes Viktor a while to convince Jayce to, yk, betray his country and leave everything he's ever known behind, but Jayce was literally about to kill himself and Viktor is talking about change and help and people who actually need it (lies) and he looks so beautiful under the moonlight and he remembered him. So. Really what can one realistically do in this situation if not agree.

They rush back, Jayce leaves a hasty suicide note and says he will drown himself in the river, they break into heimerdinger's room via breaking down the fucking door, steal all the equipment they can carry (henchmen & co brought some bags okay??)

When Mel arrives they're gone. She calls for the guards to come but they're long gone (there might be a motorcycle involved. Cyclists Viktor... Yeah)

PART FIVE - JINX AND JAYCE

Viktor shows up and finds out that silco has adopted a child. Also Sevika doesn't have an arm. Also Vander is dead. So is Benzo. Which is a bummer.

Jayce hates everything that's going on around him buts this man is SUICIDAL he's just kinda going with the flow. Having him gives Viktor his backbone and morals back. Slowly. Ver slowly.

Hextech develops WAY slower. Like they're working in a drug den there's absolutely no way there's the same conditions. They're doing their best though.

Jayce Is actually really impressed by shimmer and how it can "help" people. He's gaslighting himself ATP and everyone else is enabling him.

Also eventually Silco also gives Viktor a laced brace that makes him mildly addicted to shimmer. Viktor is clever enough to realize what's going on but also experienced enough to know that refusal would be seen as an offense. He takes the brace on and off with his own prototypes. Sevika and him both know they're just digging themselves into a deeper hole.

Silco actually tries to kill jayce one because he was getting too fucking annoying, but Jinx steps in. He reminds him of claggor (in a way). She claims that they're both her friends and silco just seethes in silence.

They help raise her. Kinda.

I wrote all of this so I could successfully say that they have a tea party with jer

THEY LOVE LIL JINX OKAAY. Specially jayce. He takes all his emptiness and tries to fill it with love for her and Viktor, the only two people he feels are kind of honest to him

Also Jayce being jealous of the fact that Viktor got around, specially when he has the audacity to give powder boy's advice (sevika is a STONE TOP LESBIAN you can NOT tell me anything else) right in Jayce's face. Yeah. Miscommunication. Falling in love. Devotion and guilt. Feelings of owing. Hesitant kisses and never said words. YEEES. I know it's a bit tropey but I like it so. Yeah.

Also both Jayce and Vik have long hair. Jinx insisted they let it grow like hers. Jayce's actually reaches his shoulder plates/mid back while Viktor keeps it shoulder length, just long enough to tie it. I think. Still haven't decided since long hair Jayce is too hard to mentally picture but I know he would look GOOD.

I have more ideas but this was way too long already

If u read this far u can actually ask for a small scene on the au or add an idea and I'll write it for u

[scoops-aboy86]

Firefly AU where Captain Eddie (Mal) and Companion Steve (Inara) are dancing around each other while the latter is renting a shuttle on the former’s ship. (For those not familiar with Firefly, a companion is a prostitute with a centralized but extremely powerful and respected union. Companions are fancy. Very… coiffed and officially trained, with mandatory annual medical checkups.)

First mate Nancy (Zoe) is a total badass who served with Eddie in the war, married to pilot Jonathan (Wash). Everyone is so sure that Eddie and Nancy have a history… but they really wouldn’t work as a couple; too much clashing dom energy, even if Eddie weren’t gay as the day is long.

Instead of photography, Jon’s thing here is flying. Instead of toy dinosaurs, he has old miniatures that used to belong to his younger brother. No one knows the backstory to that, except maybe Nancy.

The ship’s engineer is Robin (Kaylee), who wandered on board one day and pointed out three mistakes their previous engineer was making basically before anyone else realized she was there. Eddie hired her on the spot and they bonded as fellow queers who grew up on backwater planets, dreaming of escaping to space.

Wayne (Shepherd Book) was attached to the ship from the beginning because he’s never not going to be Eddie’s uncle in my heart. Even Eddie isn’t totally sure what all Wayne was up to before Eddie’s dad dumped a preteen on him with no warning and then vanished. (Maybe there’s a running joke on the ship that Wayne probably just killed the guy; he knows too much about too many weirdly niche subjects to not have some sort of History.) But when Eddie was released from Alliance custody at the end of the war, Wayne attached himself to his nephew and likes to keep him grounded, humble, and reasonably honest, for an outlaw… He doesn’t really object to Eddie’s line of work, but will absolutely speak his mind when he thinks Eddie is being stupid about anything.

Their weapons guy, Billy (Jayne), is a mercenary purely there for the money. He gets a moment in one chapter where he proudly wears a questionable hat his mother sent him in the mail, and one chapter set on a planet where he’s considered a hero for stupidly coincidental reasons and he has a genuine moment of feeling bad that some of them got hurt protecting him from an attack, but mostly he’s just an asshole.

They pick up a passenger on one trip through Persephone, a doctor named Kali (Simon). Unlike Simon, she does put up a good front of unflappable and serious, but tends to go all flustered and awkward around Robin. In the first chapter Kali is discovered to be transporting her younger sister, Eleven (River), in stasis in the ship’s cargo. She broke Eleven out of an Alliance lab where they were messing with the younger girls brain and they’re fugitives, better off constantly on the move so Eddie keeps Kali on as long as she acts as ship’s doctor and they don’t cause trouble for him or his crew.

I desperately want Billie as a widely popular girl’s name in this ‘verse so the “Well Jayne ain’t a girl” moment can still happen when Eleven blandly comments on it. And I want Kali to drug him when he tries to take control of the ship one time while Eddie is away.

Reavers are basically the Flayed.

Steve and Robin are platonic soulmates. Whenever Robin’s not working and Steve’s shuttle is docked, she goes in there and lets him do her hair while they shut talk about his more ridiculous clients. (He gets to pick them, and is able to blacklist any he has a reason to, but they’re still all mostly rich and snobby. Men and women, Steve is flexible.)

Anyway, they all do crimes and Eddie and Steve spend the entire time mutually pining for one another. That’s all the thought I have right now.

[bodybeyondstories]

story prompt: A tailor has the power to enchant clothes to change the wearers body and does so when clients have unreasonable asks. like a guy with a flat butt ask for pants that flatter his rear so the tailor inflates his butt out of proportion…that kind of thing

My first thought with this was what if there was some sort of less than ethical business model based on forming a runaway positive feedback loop where someone had to keep coming back to have clothes altered and then ended up altered in some way, which would be fun to write eventually. Here I riffed on some classic careful-what-you-wish-for ass expansion.

1313 words

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"You might have to adjust the seat a little, I've been hitting leg day pretty hard." Danny glanced down at me with an expectant smirk as I ran the measuring tape across his backside.

"Whatever you say, Cake Boss," I said, pretending the number wasn't exactly what it always was. "I might need to run and get a few more yards of fabric for this dump truck."

"Big butts are in style and I need to show off these gains." He swung his hips back toward the mirror to check himself out, eyes focusing expectantly on an unremarkable backside.

Are the gains in the room with us now? I thought, chuckling out loud.

Danny and I were good friends, and as such, he occasionally took advantage of the very generous friends and family discount for my tailoring services. This time, he wanted to get his suit refitted for the upcoming commitment ceremony of our mutual friends and favorite throuple, Jean, Gene, and Jerome, who were officially, begrudgingly, tying the three way knot. He had been through my shop no less than six times in the past several months, begging for an adjustment of this or that pair of trousers in anticipation of whatever new workout routine he had jumped into. He was obsessed with his ass, specifically--tragically--its undeniable flatness. I was a damn good tailor, but I could only do so much. News I had to break to him on a regular basis.

"Can't you like, work your magic or something?" he asked, winking down at me.

I thought for a long moment and relented, feet taking me toward the back of the shop. "I can try."

I reached behind my desk and pulled out a well worn notebook, decorated by decades of page folding, sticky noting, coffee staining, and annotating. It was one of many strange, sentimental pieces of inheritance I received from my mother, a practitioner of the craft who disappeared with her coven years ago. I was left with half memories of their gatherings, what little training I had paid attention to growing up, and of course, this notebook, my own annotations slowly forming a cross-generational palimpsest.

Occasionally, especially with my more tedious clients, I'll let my hobby cross into the tailoring business, enchanting the fabric with whatever magical push the wearing needs to feel their best self.

I pulled out a container of ink--hand made from ingredients foraged sustainably under the light of a full moon--and drew out what I hoped was the right mix of sigils for illusion and manifestation, sprinkled with a little bit of chaos, to give Danny the booty of his dreams. I stitched the small slip of paper into the waistband of his pants and handed them back to try on.

He slipped each leg in and pulled them up his toned quads, gasping as he stopped suddenly at the top of his hamstrings. What usually slipped on with minimal effort was now blocked by a perky bubble butt perched behind him.

"Nice!" he exclaimed, giving his newly hefty ass a jiggle. "I knew you could do it."

---

I rolled into the ceremony just as it was starting and posted up in one of the empty rows towards the back. As I passed the gaggle of bridesmates, gentlethems, attendants and henchmen (they all got to pick their own terms), Danny gave me a wink and a thumbs up, adjusting his waistline as the procession began.

As they walked down the aisle, I got a better look at my handiwork, and apparently so did everyone else. When he had left my shop his ass had looked delectably round and perky, but the pair of cheeks fighting for space as he strutted towards the front were on another level. They looked big. Really big.

Maybe it was the light? I tried to convince myself with a twinge of worry. I kept my gaze as professional as possible as he stood at the front with the rest of the attendants with his shoulders squared and hands clasped firmly in front of him. As the ceremony progressed, he seemed increasingly uncomfortable, squirming in place as he shifted from one foot to the other, the tails of his suit jacket riding up over his meaty buns.

Those cheeks were definitely bigger than they were during the fitting. In fact, they were bigger than they were twenty minutes ago. The sheen of sweat on his forehead and small winces of discomfort confirmed what I--and likely others--had picked up on. His ass was inflating imperceptibly but undeniably.

Something must have gone wrong with the spell. Or maybe something went too right? I don't know. I hoped I could intervene before things got out of hand, but time was quickly running out on that plan. The attendant behind him took a step back as his ass slowly ballooned from his otherwise slim frame, straining the fabric of his pants to their limit.

Even a magically enhanced pair of trousers can only take so much. When Jean, Gene, and Jerome were two thirds of the way through the sharing of vows, the seat of Danny's pants finally gave way, revealing his now basketball sized buns spilling into the open air clad in a pair of plaid bikini briefs.

A shockwave of gasps and murmurs spread through the crowd. "Ooo girl," "Need his leg routine," "The whole bakery..." could be heard among the general whispers of surprise and politely restrained chuckles. Danny, face a flush of embarrassment, tried to hold what remained of the seat of his pants together as he slunk away, the attendant behind him quickly taking his place before the soon to be betrothed could notice the commotion or his wildly jiggling buns disappearing out of sight.

I found him behind the reception tent, clutching my handbag full of emergency repair materials for just this situation. But I quickly came to realize that some heavy duty thread and patches wouldn't be enough.

"Dude, it won't stop!" he exclaimed, trying and failing to cover the globes of his ass. "What do we do?!"

"Okay, um," I said, grasping wildly for solutions, "I have my notebook, I can try and figure something out on the fly. Just take your pants off and the growth should stop."

"...I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I mean I can't!" he snapped, turning to show me the waistband stuck just below his hips, unbuttoned and stretched to the limit yet still woefully incapable of making it over his massive--and still slowly expanding--posterior.

"Okay, Plan B," I said, reaching into my bag. I brandished a seam ripper as I turned him around and traced the waistband of his pants until I found where I had installed the sigil. "Wow," I muttered, marveling at a pair of globular, gravity defying glutes that were nothing short of a work of art.

"What's up?" he asked, panic rising in his voice.

"Nothing, nothing, it's just...it's a lot..."

"Yeah I think we've all figured that out. Can we address this crisis while I still have any hope of wearing normal clothes?"

"Right." I snapped back into focus, searching along the seams for my signature stitch. "Found it!" I beamed, slicing through with one deft cut and yanking the sigil from the fabric.

"Thank fuck," he whispered. "Can you stitch this back up before the reception?"

"Yeah, I should have everything here, just let me--"

I was cut off by the unmistakable soft staccato of seams tearing. With the spell broken, and the pants returned to their mundane state, the overstressed fabric no longer stood a chance against the melons ballooning from Danny's lower back. Seams split one after the other as what was left of his pants fluttered apart, revealing every extensive curve of his beyond bodacious butt.

"Okay," I said. "I might have some spandex in the car."

[gawrkin]

Random question but do you think it's possible to do a story combining the Chronicle version where Guinevere marries Mordred willingly and the Vulgate where Guinevere and Lancelot are lovers without demonizing Guinevere? Specifically imagining in this version Guinevere is bitter like in E A Robinson and explicitly did not want to return to Arthur. Lancelot would have to assume that she was forced ofc as to not die of heartbreak but I think it could work and am surprised no one has tried it yet... it would also work for Guen and Morgan being foils since just as Morgan mellows out Guenevere decides fuck it I'm rebelling against my husband now. She can still have her little redemption where she joins a nunnery, therefore the opposite of Morgan who began in a nunnery.

Yes, you can if you know and aware of what you're doing. Buuut... it also comes with some concessions.

You are not beholden to the standard sequence of events anymore.

If you're combining the two divergent narratives together - making Guinevere love Lancelot and marry Mordred willingly - you've essentially created a new story. You have basically opened a can of worms regarding as to how and why things happen in the story. You are going to need to ask yourself a lot of questions:

Is Guinevere just using Mordred? Does Guinevere love Mordred? Or vice-versa? Mutual? Is Mordred marrying out of pragmatic need or is he also in deep love with Gwen? How did this happen while Guinevere is in a relationship with Lancelot?

How Lancelot aware or unaware of Mordred and Guinevere's relationship? Will he approve of the marriage in any sense? Would Lancelot even act and go back to Logres in the first place? Lancelot never cared about who is married to Guinevere (because Courtly Love), unless it was dishonorable for her to do so. Lancelot might just think that's a great move on Gwen's part if he and Gwen share a dismal view of Arthur. And that's if he wasn't forewarned of Guinevere's next moves beforehand by Gwen herself...

What about Lancelot and Mordred's relationship? Relationships don't happen in a vacuum. For things like a Mordred-loving-Guinevere or vice versa to happen while Lancelot is in the picture, you have to seriously consider setting up the characterizations and relationships a long way before the Fall. Are they aware of each other's affections for Gwen? Were they competing for Gwen's affections before the Grail Quest? Do they respect each other? Hate each other? You may just created a new Tristan-Palamedes-Iseult triangle. Which utterly alters the story. Remember, Mordred is Lancelot's junior in Vulgate.

Does the Burning at the Stake even happen in the first place? A Mordred-that's-in-love-with-Guinevere would never agree to her execution and, depending if he and Lancelot have positive relationship, would never be onboard with Agravain's plan. (It's why in Vulgate, Mordred falls in love after the Burning, nonsensical as it sounds) The exposure of the Affair won't go the usual way anymore, with Mordred going anywhere from convincing Arthur not to execute her, to protesting with Gawain, to dying alongside Gaheris and Gareth to Mordred joining Lancelot's rescue party and maybe killing his own brothers in the process.

Does Guinevere need to be sympathetic? Does anyone else, including Arthur, need to be sympathetic? Why? Are you worried about alienating the audience? Sometimes, you don't really need to morally justify the actions of a given character as long as they make sense and the narrative development with them is engaging /compelling enough on its own. In particular, are you trying to push a moral/ethical message to the audience? Is Arthur the bad guy or not? Is the Arthur in this story - regardless of his characterization - supposed to be in the right or in the wrong?

What is the Political situation surrounding Guinevere's willing marriage? Everyone is onboard with it? Archbishop Dubricius and the Church? Who is on Guinevere's faction? Who are against her and Mordred? Guinevere locking herself in the Tower of London wont happen now and instead Guinevere could... y'know... "Hey, Mordred, do you want to attack Arthur now while his back is turned so we can go save Lancelot?" A Mordred-who-hates-Lancelot won't do that, but Guinevere is now free to do alot of things and may have more than just Mordred on her side.

For that matter, what about the Roman War? It still happens in Vulgate, albeit minimized.

During the actual Mordred revolt, does Guinevere try and contact Lancelot of the situation? To help Mordred or just fish her out? Is she instead coordinating and planning with Mordred? Does she have a plan to do something? Again, she's not holed up in the Tower of London anymore, so why wouldn't she be proactively doing something?

Does Guinevere even NEED to go to a nunnery? If she hates Arthur, that goes out the window. A Guinevere that's bitter about Arthur would never feel the need for redemption. She would, in her mind, be justified in her actions. In both Historia Regum Britanniae and Vulgate Cycle, the reason she goes to a nunnery was because she was afraid of being killed by Arthur (and Mordred in Vulgate). It's only in Malory, that Guinevere becoming a Nun is an act of repentance for her actions, out of guilt regarding the death of her beloved husband and the collapse of the kingdom. Earlier stories are about protecting herself from retaliation. In particular, Vulgate cycle has Gwen become a nun out of fear when Mordred's sons are hunting her down. In your hypothetical story, Melehan and his brother could be Guinevere's own sons (ala Alliterative Morte Arthur) and so she has nothing to fear unless your story has Mordred and Gwen's relationship breakdown badly or Gwen has been a bad mother. And all this is assuming a nunnery is her first option. Why doesn't Guinevere go back to Cameliard? Potentially, with her sons and the Benoic faction in tow?

Would your Guinevere have the motive to sieze power and reassert her rule? Her "redemption" may not even come in the form of going to a nunnery - she can just desire to salvage Logres and rule as a possible Dowager Queen, with the aid of Melehan and/or Lancelot. Then Constantine comes into the picture....

So as you can clearly see, your ask has a lot of things going around than just simply slapping together two different narratives and expecting a simple fit, especially in a modern standard that seeks to make sure there are no plot holes.

But to reiterate, you can have your hybrid Chronicle-Romance narrative with a sympathetic Gwen if you know where things lead to what, how to get there, what are the consequences of xyz change and how to accomodate for those consequences.

[starry-bi-sky]

more about og tue timeline twins danny and dan/jamie

very touchy with each other. you might even say. ccclingy. its to be expected, they're two halves of a whole after all and all they've got of each other. worryingly co-dependent. do not separate. ever.

Danny was really weak and sick after the initial separation, and was for a while after. Jamie knew internally that if Danny died, he'd take the whole world with it. He was the one sole caretaker for him while he got better -- not for lack of trying on Vlad's part, but without his ghost powers he was nothing more than a feeble (albeit handsomely rich) man, and James looked ready to bite his head off if he got within ten feet of either of them.

Vlad is intimately aware that James (or Danny, if he tried) could snap his spine in half like a twig, and is uncomfortably aware of his own lack of ghost half now. It makes him feel self-conscious and exposed, so he never fully returns back to "cocky and self-assured billionaire Vlad Masters". Making deals with other brands feels a lot harder now that he can no longer possess them anymore.

Speaking of, he very quickly has to come up with a cover story as to why there's now a James Daniel Fenton to the public, when no records whatsoever of him existing existed prior. Lots of forging false government documents on his end. James and Danny do not help because it's his fault this happened in the first place.

(Regardless of whether or not Danny actually willingly chose to rip out his ghost half/humanity in canon is true, or if that was Vlad Masters speaking out of his ass, a large part of the blame still falls on Masters.)

(As his primary caretaker and guardian, it's his responsibility to ensure the health and safety of his charge, and since Danny was in clear emotional duress at the time, it can be argued that he was not in the mental state to make such a decision. And, allegedly, couldn't do it on his own which is why he asked Vlad for help.)

I chose "James" as Dan's name since it's a popular fanon middle name for Danny, and since he's half of Danny, it felt like it just made sense lol. Also because of the ensuing comedy of the two of them introducing themselves as "James Daniel Fenton" and "Daniel James Fenton". It's got the same energy as "danny with a y" and "danny with an i" and it's the exact kind of name bullshit you expect parents to give their twins.

I don't have their exact personalities down, but something I am actively writing into this au's bible is that I think Danny should be the quiet and (ig technically) meaner one. There's a lot to go into about interpretations for ghosts, halfas, and the incident itself, but TL:DW; Danny is technically soulless, or at the very least missing half of his soul (altho Jamie is too just in a different direction).

Pair that with the trauma of losing his family in front of him + having his ghost half ripped out + all the trauma he would've sustained as a hero, and he's not doing too hot mentally! i think if the twins met good timeline!Danny, Danny would've mistaken Danny for Dan and Jamie for the original half.

He comes off to others as pretty apathetic and indifferent to a borderline terrifyingly calm degree. He doesn't go out of his way to insult people, but he also doesn't care enough to consider the other party's feelings so he doesn't filter himself, which makes him come off as rude. The only times he looks truly comfortable is when he's near Jamie or talking to him.

His standoffish, ice prince demeanor makes Jamie look like a saint in comparison. When really he's not all that much better? He's more outwardly emotional than Danny, whether that be positive or negative, but at the end of the day he doesn't trust or care about anyone else any more than Danny does, and he's got a bit of a sadistic streak. Danny reigns him in when he starts becoming too destructive.

(Which I think makes sense. Danny asked Vlad to rip out his ghost half specifically so he could stop feeling his human emotions. Dan, despite his monotone voice, does exhibit emotions. He's smug when he asks Valerie if he likes his ghostly wail, sardonic when he reunites with Sam and Tucker, annoyed, shocked at Danny's ghostly wail, etc. He enjoys wreaking destruction and chaos.)

(If Danny had survived his encounter with Dan and if Vlad was successful, then I imagine he'd be rather apathetic to his other half as a whole. That'd be interesting.)

Overall though they're both hurt, bitter, and distrustful of the world around them, with abandonment issues a mile wide. They can get better and they can heal, but it takes time and patience and proper support.

On the DPxDC side of things, they do genuinely hold some kind of respect or regard for Bruce. They also don't become vigilantes for a while. Neither of them are jumping at the bit to enter heroism again, not when it was heroism that killed their family in the first place.

In fact when they find out Bruce = Batman they think he's foolish for it. They think its a fool's errand, and they've been so spurned by their time as Phantom that for a few weeks, Jamie even refused to call Bruce anything but Sisyphus. Danny called him Tantalus, and the two of them had a faux-argument about which one was more accurate.

Bruce does, though, worm his way into both of their hearts, and that's like, the main reason they become vigilantes to join him. So that they could keep him safe and not because of any desire to return to the heroic life. Relearning to care and finding satisfaction in helping others was an unintentional side effect.

(Bruce is so very smug)

Essentially:

The Twins: this is our squishy and fragile adoptive father. If anything happened to him, we're becoming mass extinction events.

Bruce: Nnno.

[mollypaup]

i think a really great aspect of oofuri is how much it gets mihashi's ass for being overly timid and dependent. it would be really easy to write off the way he and abe interact as being abe's fault because he is overbearing, and a lot of people do, but it has some really great moments of going "hey, you cannot hide behind abe or depend on him to make every decision. it's not good for you, or him, or the team."

[triglycercule]

tonight i'm gonna fall asleep and tonight i WILL dream about horrordust if i have anything to say about it,,,, i'm horrordustpilled they're everything to me right now. forever thinking about gshaewru's art of my hc,,,

the reluctant besties that they are. the assholes that they are. killer you should commit a koukatsu by maretu and kill their asses "you will never return here and the dead will not either"

[vee-lociraptor]

best thing about being really into a character with very little screen time is you can just make things up about him. what are you gonna do prove me wrong

[hella1975]

so there's a reason my new job got back to me so quickly about my application and that's bc it's an absolute fucking shambles like actually perfect timing for me to decide to rewatch the bear bc i have never more felt like ive been thrown into a broke on-its-knees establishment trying to crawl its way up the ladder where i am somehow a godsend to them. my old job was crazy and shambolic in the sense that the industry is just Like That but this one?????? insanity. every 5 mins i am questioning what im doing with my life. ive already had a walk-in fridge moment