#for clarity's sake i don't think all of these are going to turn out to be foreshadowing in the long run

[nonsensical-shitposting]

Decided to comb through a few separate playthroughs of Indigo Park with the intention of tracking down potential bits of foreshadowing that I haven't seen anyone recognize as such yet. Here's what I've got in no particular order, along with a few accompanying theories:

The player's screenname on the Discord expy seen in the opening cutscene is eEnsign. My first instinct is to say this is just a hint towards their surname, as their presumable first name is Ed and Indigo Park has already established a precedent for alliterative names: so, their full name could be "Ed Ensign." I do think there could be more to it symbolism-wise, though, so I'll just leave you with these definitions I grabbed from Wiktionary and let you come to your own conclusions about the potential implications for Ed's backstory, narrative role, and/or fate:

Could just be me reading too much into it, but Rambley's "or did you just get plastic surgery?" joke may be a hint that Ed will suffer some form of facial damage or alteration in a future chapter.

The power generators don't feel like they were "originally" part of the park, but rather seem to me as if they were a more recent addition- the only question is when and why. Rambley says the employees stopped showing up before the guests, so maybe they were installed during the time before the last employees ditched the park in an attempt to keep it functioning in their absence for as long as possible. Alternatively, maybe Mollie made them after the park was evacuated: she's already been established as good with machines, assuming her plane-building habits carried over from the character to the mascot.

Salem's cardboard cutout is bisected at the waist, which could be a hint that a similar fate has befallen the "real-world" mascot (there's precedent for this sort of foreshadowing with the headless Mollie standee at the park entrance). Similarly, on the cluster of screens Rambley appears on after the Rambley's Railway section the screen over where his right eye "should be" is noticeably deactivated, which could be a hint that his mascot counterpart (if it exists) is missing its right eye. Alternatively, Rambley might suffer a similar kind of damage in a future chapter- in that case, I'd interpret the potential foreshadowing more metaphorically in that the damage'll leave him "half-blind" in a sense, such as something that knocks out most of the park's security cameras or just locks him out of using them.

I think the general consensus by this point is that the Critter Cuff's resuscitation ability Rambley mentions will be unlocked and/or come into play somehow in a future chapter, but I haven't seen anyone dwelling on the implications of this- or, rather, the implications of this coexisting with how we've seen Rambley simply unlock a higher access level on Ed's cuff with zero physical modification to the device and no on-site capability to physically modify the cuffs that we've seen yet. I don't think it's a stretch to suggest that the resuscitation ability is likely pre-installed on all Critter Cuffs but only gets unlocked for the higher access levels, which. Y'know. Doesn't say great things about how Indigo Park treats its human employees or its customers. (I'm not saying this is a plausibility issue, mind you- as far as we know, Indigo Park is located somewhere in America- but still!)

I've watched over the scene where Lloyd attacks Ed multiple times now, and it looks to me like Lloyd specifically goes to grab at his nose/muzzle area when the Critter Cuff starts emitting the high-pitched frequency that drives him off. Building off of this and the fact that Mollie appears to be bleeding from her beak immediately prior to and throughout her chase sequence, my theory is that the park set the mascots up with some kind of multi-component implant located in the nasopharynx and Eustachian tube, and the implants themselves are what triggers the Critter Cuff to start emitting what I'm just going to refer to as "the deterrent frequency" from here onward for simplicity's sake. My best guess would be that the implants and Critter Cuff work in tandem via proximity detectors in both the implants and the cuff, which are in turn linked back to the heartbeat monitor and mood ring features of the Critter Cuff to determine whether a visitor seems to be in danger of being attacked by a mascot and automatically sets off the deterrent frequency if these conditions are all simultaneously present. (Granted, this does seem a bit advanced for the time period if we're working under the assumption that this was all developed before the park closed down in 2015-ish, but Rambley's AI would also be anachronistically advanced for even the present day, let alone 2015, so I don't think it's a stretch to say that Indigo Park was working with some pretty cutting-edge technology before its closure. Either that, or the Indigo Park universe is just more technologically advanced than ours.) If I'm right about the implants/their placement, the deterrent frequency probably drives the mascots off via both the high-pitched noise we already know of that hurts their ears and by screwing with their middle-ear pressure... which I think would induce some form of barotrauma in the long run, especially if it's repeatedly used? I'm not a doctor and I don't know if the game's going to go that deep into scientific explanations, though, so don't take my word for it without researching the topic yourself and/or seeking input from an actual medical professional.

Anyway, working from this assumption about how the deterrent frequency functions, this suddenly explains the apparent weirdness in Mollie's chase sequence. It seems clear that she was watching when Ed's cuff set off the deterrent frequency to drive Lloyd away, which would've tipped Mollie off that the deterrent frequency is still functioning; I think that this led to her deciding to tear out her implant beforehand. This would explain why she's visibly bleeding in the leadup to the chase sequence and why Ed's Critter Cuff never emits the deterrent frequency when she first appears or starts chasing them down, and it also explains the different high-pitched frequency heard at the very end of the chase sequence: based on the above theory, my assumption is that Rambley tried to set off a backup deterrent frequency to get Mollie to leave (which didn't work because Mollie tore out her implant), and when that failed he panicked and slammed the door shut.

I feel like Ed having been employed on the spot by Rambley is going to be of major relevance later. If it ends up being important for the ending, maybe there'll be some kind of weird legal loophole where, due to Ed being the only person working at Indigo Park at the time, ownership thereof automatically defaults to them? If the full game has multiple endings, this would also be an easy way to make choice-based multiple endings work, as if you do something that rubs Rambley the wrong way he could easily send security recordings of Ed breaking into Indigo Park to the authorities to ensure Ed can't exploit the loophole to gain ownership of Indigo Park, while on the flipside having Ed's hard work pay off with them getting rewarded for helping Rambley restore the park (rather than the company just swooping in after the fact to reassert control and reaping the benefit of Ed's work while Ed gets nothing but a fine for trespassing) could be a nice way to close things out... or alternatively, it could be a conduit for an anticapitalist "you cannot fix the system by working within its constraints, the whole rotten edifice must be dismantled" message, especially if Ed turns out to be more of a morally-gray character than we thought.

This is more instinct than anything else, but the references to Indigo Park as a "kingdom" that appear in the trailer and in Rambley's song feel like something that's going to be a recurring thematic motif rather than just a metaphor that gets used in a few throwaway lines. Not quite sure what relevance this could end up having, though.

I don't think I'm the only one to have noticed this, but Rambley seems to have a tendency to become more animated and use more in-between frames the more he opens up and/or deviates from what was likely programmed into him. However, I don't think this is an automatic or unconscious thing, but is instead an active choice to communicate genuineness and sincerity. He has been left running without pause for almost eight years, which as far as I know is Very Bad for computers, so if anything I'd be shocked if he had the remaining system resources to fluidly animate himself 24/7; as such, I think he physically can't do the higher-quality, more fluid animations all the time, so he chooses to save them for when it "matters" most.

[chaosandmarigolds]

imma request more bc that adoption one actually sent me to the heavens and back..

so i have a similar idea that i wanna throw out there but have it be Dad!simon riley and foster/adopted!reader. Have like, their interactions when reader has to first meet simon, and simon is able to bond with reader bc hes traumatized too

it can be like a headcannon style or a one shot, whatever idea striked you.

like actually can i be you? like you write SO GOOD so QUICKLY my writers block could NEVER

(I'm actually a Tomato right now I'm blushing so much in my school library what- thank you so much!! your words will live rent-free in my head for the next seven to eight weeks ngl

Ahem ahem I have a new thingy- Adoptive dad Simon! lil blurb (700-1000 words i think) & foster!care reader (i don't think I used gendered pronouns but if I did please remind me)

For the record, you never thought yourself to be a problematic child, sure you were a little unruly and you lived by your own rules but to be honest any person in your situation would be the same. A child whose childhood was ripped from you the second your father grabbed a beer bottle and the rest you preferred to keep locked away under a lock with a key you kept away. So you sat in your social workers office for what you thought was the billionth time in the month, hands mindlessly fiddling with your hoodie string and eyes staring out the window.

Birds. You always wondered what it would be like to be a bird, it must be nice, to be free like one at least- no matter how cliche the thought you enjoyed it.

Only for it to be ripped from you as you hear your named hissed from the workers, Margi's, mouth. With a grumble you turn to look at her from across the oak table, trinkets from her perfect life adorning it, and her perfect little family in a golden frame, staring at you- made you sick.

"Seventh school, seventh! Are you trying to have to move counties again?" She snipped at you, her voice dull as she typed something into her computer.

"Maybe I am."

Margi gives you a look, a frown written across her face, "What does that mean?"

"The Wilsons, Adams, Johnsons, Kievs, they all suck and they were mean."

"They were mean?" She mocked your voice and then scooted her chair to face you fully, "I'm trying here, kid, I'm trying. But you-" she shuttered a laugh as if she just found your mere presence unbearable, "You make it so hard, you're goin to Douglas county."

A look is etched across your face as you take in the news, Douglas was forty miles away, so the news was a bit shocking. "Wha-"

"There is a single man-"

"No."

"Yes. You'll sleep here and he's picking you up in the morning."

--

It was stupid, Price had told him he needed to find purpose in his life and that fostering might fulfill that- well...he didn't realize his captain meant dogs and cats and somehow he had passed to be a foster parent. For reasons that are beyond him. So there he was, four foster kids deep- all adopted within two or so months and then going to their new homes. He wouldn't lie, he didn't like any of them but he was sure to be as kind as possible, as...open as he could (which is close to none) but according to the children he did a great job.

Somehow.

There was a new one, problematic from the file, a story reading a bit too close to his own that he almost didn't want to take it up for the sake of his own mental clarity. However, it was urgent, and there was a need and the solider in him urged him to go on and fulfill it. So that is why he was now standing in the police station at six in the morning an hour away from his home.

A brief conversation with the social worker and a few police officers that had encounters with you, all warning him with the banter of your antics and that if he had any common sense he'd 'slap some sense into you' All of that he just responded with a glare and changing the topic.

Then they brought you out your lively hood packed into a small and tattered black and blue duffle bag and clothes a bit worse for wear, looking exhausted upon all of that. Simon made eye contact with you for a moment, it almost seemed like a stare-down- until the social worker cut in-between you both.

She motions to you as she introduces you to him and she then motions to him, trying to take your bag to hand to him but you had an iron grip, "Mister Riley-"

"Simon." He interjected, giving the worker a look, "Call me Simon."

You bite back a smile at how flustered Margi became by his correction and after a few more warnings of how you like to run away and skip school and everything you had a tendency to do you sit on the bench in the building. A good forty or so minutes passed and you wouldn't lie you were hungry so as soon as 'Simon' came over you chirpped up, following as he had motioned for you to do.

"Could we get some food?"

Simon stayed quiet until you reached the truck, letting you put your duffle bag into the back and then stopping you from getting in the front, checking your height against his chest and then with a breif motion of the hand told you to sit in the back.

Alright. You thought, not a big talker.

"Diner okay?"

"There's a good one down the street-"

Simon hums and grabs his phone from his pocket as he buckles up, holding it back for you to take, "Put it in the gps, yeah?"

A faltering silence as you stared at the phone, which was new, normally your foster parents wouldn't let you touch anything of theirs- much less a piece of technology. An unlocked piece of technology.

--

"Can I get juice?" You ask quietly as you look over the menu, subconsciously looking for the cheapest option.

"Mmhm, what else?"

To that you look up, "An...and pancakes?"

"An' eggs."

"What?"

"An' eggs," he said again, looking up from his menu, "Growin, need protein."

"I don't...like eggs." You see his blonde eyebrows furrow to your words and you mumble on, "Not alone, I like potatoes and eggs but eggs alone make me gag."

"Then get potatoes an' eggs."

Darn, there goes pancakes. So when the waitress comes back over she gets Simon's order and then yours, and you ask for the potatoes and eggs, only for when she left Simon to be staring you down.

"Have you ever been told you're scary?"

"All th' time. Though' you wan' pancakes."

A moment and you blink, "You said to get eggs and potatoes."

"Get al' three."

"But that's expensive."

"Ah, yea- 20 dollar's for a meal tha' gonna make you full an' happy is expensive," He dully replied, and then your expression he did his best to soften his expression, "Kid, is okay, yeah? Don' feel bad."

You sniffle as you see the waitress come over with your juice and his very boring black coffee, "Can I actually pancakes?"

"I'd be offended if you didn't."

(anywaaay that's it! hope you liked it! <33 ps. i love feedback and comments it truly makes my day!

[rainbow-nerdss]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

Enjoy this hit from the bucktommy pit I've fallen into over the past few days! 💙💙

“Eddie gave me a shovel talk, you know?” Tommy says, next time they get together. They're at Buck's again, and Buck is cooking for them. He drops the spatula at Tommy's announcement, spinning to look at him. “He what? Jesus, I am so sorry, he shouldn't have—” “It's fine,” Tommy assures him. “It was cute. He cares about you.” Buck snorts. “Sure. He hasn't scared you off, at least?” "Nah, trust me, I've sparred with the guy enough times to know I can take him if I need to.” Buck raises an eyebrow. “I wouldn't underestimate him. That guy knows how to fight dirty. Trust me. He's scrappy.” “Scrappy, huh?” Buck turns back to the pot and stirs it again. “Hey, come taste this?” He holds out a spoon. Tommy joins him at the stove, standing far closer than necessary, almost flush against Buck's back as he takes the spoon in his mouth, chews, and swallows. “Delicious,” he announces. “Is that Bobby's Chili?”  Buck nods. "Yup!" “Man, he was always so secretive about that!” Tommy complains. “How'd you talk him into sharing?” “Pays to be the favorite, I guess!” Buck preens. “So, what? Eddie suddenly decided to go all white knight protecting my virtue now I'm dating a guy?” He asks, steering the conversion back around. Tommy leans against the countertop beside Buck. “Nah, nothing like that. He just said that… He reminded me, forcibly, that you're a good guy, and I should probably refrain from hurting you, if I can help it.” Privately, a part of Buck glows at the knowledge that Eddie did that for him, even while he plans to rip him a new one for interfering. “I should clarify, Evan. I'm not… I’ve mentioned Victor, right? My ex?” Buck nods, turning to face Tommy in order to give this his full attention. “He sort of… did a number on me. Meeting you, doing… this, it's great. I'm just not…” “You're not ready for something serious,” Buck realizes. Tommy nods. “But, what we've been doing so far…?” “Is great! The dates, the, uh… other stuff, all amazing, but—” “You just don't want anything more serious than that.” “Exactly. If that's a deal-breaker, I can—” “No!” Buck rushes, putting a hand on Tommy's chest. “I mean, this is good for me too. Takes some of the pressure off, actually.” Tommy visibly relaxes, and Buck takes a moment to turn down the heat on the stove, leaning further into his space. “You said you were a relationship guy,” Tommy says, clearly wanting to make a hundred percent sure. Buck does him the courtesy of taking a moment to consider his answer. “I used to think I was. I thought my options were either ‘serious relationship’ or ‘meaningless sex that left me feeling like crap’.” He steps closer, close enough that he can feel Tommy's breath ghost across his skin. “But lately I've been discovering the joys of things being… somewhere on a spectrum. Keeping things fluid.” “Yeah?” Tommy asks, moving even closer. They might as well be kissing now, but they aren't quite, just a hair between them. “Yeah,” Buck repeats. “Though,” he adds. “For the sake of clarity. When you say other stuff, is that referring to the flying lessons you still owe me, or—” Buck pulls away just a fraction, just enough to allow Tommy the opportunity to reach out and keep him there, pulling him back into a dizzying kiss.

Tags:

I was tagged by @wildlife4life @spotsandsocks @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie @wikiangela @exhuastedpigeon and @bidisasterbuckdiaz

And tagging:

@theotherbuckley @aspecbuddie @thewolvesof1998 @daffi-990 @neverevan @loserdiaz @goforkinard @kwills91 @trenchcoatsandtimetravel @devirnis @steadfastsaturnsrings @sunflowerdiaiz @lover-of-mine @liabegins @lovelettertothewise @slowlyfoggydestiny @buddieboos @shitouttabuck @pirrusstuff @jesuisici33 @nmcggg @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @your-catfish-friend @eightpackdiaz @gigi-gigi @bisexualbuckleys @loveyouanyway @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @arachanae

[archangeldyke-all]

idk why i didn’t think of this sooner but bodyguard!Sevika 👀

her being overly protective, saying it’s bc of “her job” when it’s really bc she has a fat crush on her beautiful, celebrity client and doesn’t want anyone to lay a finger on her girl 😩

this is SO cute like SOOOO cute omg

men and minors dni

sevika's the best body guard you've had. and you've had plenty.

she isn't afraid to push people around when they're crowding you, and she isn't afraid to get in a fight or two.

she's always got a protective hand on the small of your back as she escorts you to and from appearances-- a comfort you've grown accustomed to.

in the mornings she picks you up from your home or whatever hotel room you're staying in, always prepared for you with a warm drink just the way you like it.

she's always got snacks tucked away in her pockets that she shoves into your hands when you've gone too long without eating, in between interviews and meetings.

she's not afraid to step in when journalists and interviewers get too comfortable or run on too long. inappropriate questions are often lobbed at you, about your personal life, your love life and your appearance, and each time sevika's there to witness them, she'll glare at the reporter until they take the question back or move on.

she's always ready for any problem you might face. raining? sevika's opening an umbrella over your head already. randomly got your period? she's subtly passing you a pad or tampon, then two painkillers and some water. tired? sevika's already wrapping her strong arm around you to let you sleep against her chest during the car rides to and from gigs.

she's been by your side as your personal guard for a year now, and you've never been happier. there's just one thing.

you've kinda got a crush on her.

how could you not? she's protective of you, kind to strangers, strong and beautiful and always touching you.

it's starting to drive you a bit crazy.

last week, she was hanging out in your house while you got ready for a red carpet, helping you lace up various dresses and clasp necklaces as you picked your outfit, looking handsome as hell in her all black suit.

there was a moment, as you were applying your makeup and she was fiddling with your television, where this wave of clarity washed over you. you watched in the mirror as behind you sevika huffed at the screen and mashed buttons on the remote, and you thought, 'oh. i think i want her here with me forever.'

three nights ago, she was dropping you off at home after you hosted the opening night of a new club, slightly sweaty, black buttonup shirt unbuttoned low enough you can see a little bit of her cleavage, hair slicked back, lips and eyes painted black, a smile on her lips and her hands on your hips to steady your drunken stumbling; and when you got to the door you could've fucking sworn she was about to kiss you goodnight. she was staring at your lips, licking her own, slowly leaning in, and you smiled. she froze, blinked, then pulled away.

"don't forget to lock your doors." she said. she's been saying it to you every night since she was hired. you rolled your eyes.

"text me when you're home safe, sev." you replied like you always do. she huffed as she began stumbling backwards so she could keep her eyes on you as she crossed your front yard.

"i'm a bodyguard for fuck's sake!" she said, exasperated.

she still texted you a 'home.' twenty minutes later.

you couldn't sleep that night, replaying the moment over and over again, butterflies in your stomach keeping you tossing and turning all night.

and then, the next time you saw her (last night) you decided to turn the charm on a bit, see if you were just delusional and drunkenly imagining things or if maybe the feelings you were having for sevika were... mutual.

you were at a gala, sevika sitting next to you in a tux as ballroom music played. you gulped down the last dregs of your drink and turned to her. "let's go outside." you whispered in her ear. she smiled, and followed you out to the empty smoking balcony.

sevika covered your exposed shoulders with her jacket before you could even shiver, then pulled a cigarette and lighter from her back pocket. you laughed, then pulled a joint from your cleavage, waggling your eyebrows at her. she chuckled.

you snatched the lighter from her hands and lit up as sevika tucked her cigarette away. you took a long puff and passed it over to her. she grinned, and took a drag.

when the joint was gone, you turned to her. "i've got kinda a stupid question but..."

"go ahead." she said with a chuckle.

"okay. but you have to be honest, promise?" you asked. she nodded. you took a deep breath, then whispered, "were you gonna kiss me the other night?"

sevika blinked. "i... don't know what you're talking about." she said.

you blinked, nodded, then went back inside.

neither of you talked the rest of the night.

and now things are weird.

you haven't heard from sevika. you haven't had anything scheduled, so there's no need for you to hear from sevika, but still. you can't remember the last time you'd gone more than 6 hours without a text or call. just to check in.

it's only now that you've gone so long without talking to her that you're starting to realize just how much she's become for you this past year. shit. you really need to give sevika a raise.

you've spent the day in bed, wallowing in self pity and heartbreak. your pajamas are wrinkled, your eyes are puffy from crying, and you're laying in a pile of crumbs from the cookies you've been munching on all day.

your doorbell rings. you freeze, mid munch on your cookie. there's only ten or so people who know the code to the gate around your property, who can get close enough to ring the actual doorbell.

you scramble out of bed pulling a robe on over your pajamas and running toward your front door. is it your mom? your manager? you tug open the door.

it's sevika.

you blink. "hi." you say. "do i have something today?" you ask. she shakes her head no.

"no, i--"

"i think i should give you a raise." you blurt. sevika blinks.

"what?"

you shrug. "do you wanna come in?" you ask. sevika shakes her head no. you freeze. "...okay?"

"here." she says, shoving flowers into your grip. you look down at them, a bouquet of your favorite colors. "i lied to you." she whispers.

"...about what?"

"i did want to kiss you. i'm sorry. if you want me to resign..."

"what!?" you shout. "why would i want you to resign?" you ask. sevika blinks up at you and shrugs.

"i have feelings for you. it's unprofessional." she says.

you laugh. sevika cringes, like you're laughing at her. you reach out and grab her hand before she can spiral.

"i have feelings for you too. i was really hopin' you were gonna kiss me. i spent all day in bed today 'cause you said you didn't want to. it's beyond unprofessional." you admit. sevika's jaw drops. "i don't want you to quit. i was serious about the raise. i just wanna say that before i kiss you so it's not, like, nepotism or something." sevika blinks at you. "is that okay?" you ask. she nods. you grin.

her arms have always inticed you, the steady way they guide you through crowds, the powerful way they push and beat off people who try to get near you, the way they fill out her blazers and button ups. but your new favorite, by a mile, is the gentle way they wrap around your body to hold you closer to her as you kiss.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights

[raffe156]

All Ghillied up and nowhere to go

Pairing - Price X MC (Tank) F!reader

Summery - Price teaches Tank how to blend in…

A/N- Just a little nsfw Drabble for an anon ask, also don’t worry Breakaway state part 5 is still in the works 😘

Warnings - Smut (18+) Voyeurism, Language, Age gap Price (38) Tank (26) Dom!Price, Brat!Tank, Sir kink, praise kink, unsafe sex, p in v, knife play and cock warming if you squint like really hard!

✨As always comments and feedback welcome ✨

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters - Only Tank

Tags: @fanficandartgal @deadbranch @soapyghost @shuttlelauncher81 @a-littlebirdie @boomtowngirl @chb-7 @noxspellxbound @brewed-pangolin

Sorry if I missed anyone❤️

——————————————

“Why am I doing this again?” You rested your cheek on the butt of your rifle.

“For god sake….I’ve told you…you need to “blend” in better! You shift about too much!” Price was losing his patience with you now.

“….blend in better? I’m dressed in tall fucking grass and weeds…in tall fucking grass and weeds how much more do I need to blend in?!” You dropped your head resting your forehead on the cold ground. The wind whistled around you. You didn’t even know where Price was but the clarity of the comms meant he was close by. The training field was silent apart from the wind.

“We’ve been out here for ages now..the suns setting..I think I’m pretty undetectable, send Soap out to try an spot me…” your voice was mocking.

“How about I send Ghost out?”

“……”

“I’ll take that as a no then kid? Start crawling back to me” his voice gravelly over the comms

“…I don’t even know where you are…are we done, I feel like we are done? can’t I just stand up?” You lifted your head, pushing yourself up but just as your shoulder came level with the grass you felt a sharp shot hit it. It didn’t hurt but you felt it. You looked down at the little blue ball.

“Did you just shoot me?…with a BB gun?” You rolled the little ball between your finger an thumb. You turned your face towards the direction it had come from.

“Yeh…a warning shot because if I was the enemy that would of been a real bullet also I would of shot you in the head….get back down” you could hear the annoyance in his voice.

“Fuck sake…taking the piss now” you muttered under your breath…he wasn’t that close to hear that surely.

“I’m taking the piss? Your the one pissing about Tank…get your fucking arse out of the air and get your body down to the ground or I will shoot you again…” he sounded close now, an he would shoot you, but you never did know when to stop.

“Thought you liked my arse in the air sir? Said it’s one of your favourite sights…” you smirked.

“….you being funny sergeant? Because I will wipe that smirk off your face…” his voice was louder now, he was close.

“I’d like to see you try sir…” you were baiting him now.Silence. You scanned your surroundings he should be north west of you, unless…you heard a shift behind you,but before you could turn over you were dragged back by you ankle.

“I did warn you…” Price growled in your ear. He had pulled you right back to him. He was practically on top of you.

“Your all talk…John” you didn’t turn your head to look at him, suddenly you could feel him unclipping the straps to the lower half of your ghillie suit.

“What are you doing? Does the fresh air an grease paint do it for you?” You laughed, but your head was pushed down low to the ground your cheek in the dirt once again.

“Ah fuck…” it took you by surprise, but rough Price only made the odd appearance, you must of really wound him up. You heard the soft ching of a knife being unsheathed and your eyes flashed panic, had you wound him up that much?

“John…what are you doing?” You tried to turn your head towards him.

“Stay still….very still” He growled in your ear again, as he used his knife to cut the seam of your pants, his intentions made clear you relaxed your body as you felt him finish the job with his hand.

“You’re not wearing any knickers? Can’t say I’m surprised…” He licked his thumb and pressed it to your folds, it easily slipped inside, causing a slight moan from you.

“Well that wasn’t difficult was it? I think the fresh air an grease paint does it for you aswell kid…or is it the thought of your Captain fucking you in a field?” He peered over your face just enough for you to see his eyes, the dark camouflage paint making them stand out.

“Abit of both sir…” you could feel his thumb thrusting into you slowly, you were leaking all over his hand. Your head was getting fuzzy, you could no longer hear the wind or the birds, just the wet sounds of his thumb inside you and the sound of your heart beat as it drummed into the ground. You felt Price shift and remove his thumb. You let out a groan, you hoped he wasn’t just teasing you, you wouldn’t make it back to base.

“You ready to put your training to the test Tank?” he removed his hand from your head to pull his zipper down. You could feel the head of his cock at your entrance. You didn’t need to be told to lift your hips up, it made him chuckle.

“Good girl” Price huffed as he slid inside, your walls adjusting around him. He placed himself right ontop of you, the weight of him pushing you down fully flat. His cock buried deep inside. He completely covered you his head right next to yours. You expected him to start thrusting but no he lay completely still, his cock pulsing inside you. Before you could question him, he snaked his arm under yours to position your face upwards to look through the tall grass, you mouth fell open as soon as you clocked what he was showing you…Ghost an 4 rookies were 300feet away from you.

“Told you I’d send Ghost out…now let’s see if you can blend in an not get caught eh?” As he spoke he began thrusting, strong, fast thrusts at first, it made the coils in your stomach tighten with each one he was dragging at your walls. It made your eyes roll back, you had to slap your hand over your mouth if Ghost didn’t see you first he would of heard you.

“Who’s getting closer? You or Ghost?” Price whispered in your ear. It caused a shiver up your spine an made your walls contract around him. He slowed his thrusts right down almost painfully slow…two of the rookies were a few feet away, Ghost had gone east with the other two.

“Keep yah head still, it’s gone be close” he whispered lowering both his head and yours as the rookies walked right past you. The suspense was agonising, but your walls were still fluttering around Prices cock which only seem to get harder. When you were sure it was clear you moved your hips under him, desperate for any form of friction or movement, Price gave in his thrusts rampant an deep, you moans came out strangled and restrained but your orgasm was bliss as you panted for Price to cum inside you, he grit his teeth burying his head into your shoulder as he filled you to the brim.

“Ahhh ahh fuck…have they gone back to base?” You turned your head to look.

“Not all of em Ghost is still in range…wouldn’t surprise me if he’s spotted us…” Price grumbled.

He was right the 4 rookies had wandered far away, but Ghost hung back his body turned to your location…surely he hadn’t spotted you…

“You two done fucking around out here?”

[maybe-im-dark]

X-Men Origins: What if?

What if Logan had decided to willingly become Strykers weapon in order to not have his memories erased and to protect Victor and the lives of innocent?

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

"Erase his memory."

Logan’s breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding harder than the pain in his bones. The idea of losing his memories, everything that makes him who he is—his past, his love for Kayla, his brother Victor—it’s too much. For a moment, rage flickers through him, his claws twitching beneath the restraints.

But then something shifts. Instead of the violent fury that usually drives him, a rare moment of clarity cuts through the pain. He knows Stryker is dangerous, manipulative. But if he lashes out now, if he fights, Victor—his brother—will be in danger. And innocent people will keep getting hurt. He can’t let that happen.

Logan forces himself to relax, though his body screams at him to resist. His breath steadies. This isn’t the time to fight. Not yet.

As the adamantium process finishes, the machinery around him hisses, the final pieces of metal settling into his bones. The restraints on his wrists and ankles hiss as they release. Logan’s eyes snap open, his body weak but still alive. He climbs out of the tank, drenched in the cold fluid, steam rising from his skin.

Instead of attacking, Logan staggers forward, hands raised in a gesture of submission, his voice raspy but steady.

Logan:

(pleading)

"Stryker, wait… don't do it."

The room goes silent. The scientists glance nervously at each other, and Stryker turns, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Logan standing on his own, pleading instead of fighting. He hadn’t expected this.

Stryker:

(coolly)

"And why would I wait, Logan? You’re a weapon now, the strongest one I’ve ever created. We can’t have you remembering the wrong things."

Logan stumbles forward, the pain still coursing through him, but he ignores it. His mind is focused, clear. He knows what he has to say, and he knows it’s the only way to protect the people he cares about.

Logan:

(strained, but determined)

"I’ll do what you want. I’ll fight for you. I’ll be your weapon. But leave Victor alone. And don’t hurt any more innocent people."

Stryker arches an eyebrow, clearly surprised by Logan’s response. Logan’s breathing is labored, but his gaze is unwavering.

Logan:

"Use me… for whatever wars you need. I’ll follow orders. I’ll go where you tell me to go. But Victor… he’s my brother. You leave him out of this. And you leave innocent people out of it. That’s the deal."

Stryker stands still, clearly weighing the offer. He walks down from the observation deck, stepping closer to Logan, circling him like a predator, eyeing his new weapon with cold calculation.

Stryker:

(softly, considering)

"You’re offering me loyalty? Voluntary obedience? What makes you think I won’t erase your memories anyway? It’s much easier to control someone who doesn’t question their orders."

Logan’s jaw clenches, his fists tightening, but he forces himself to stay calm. He has to stay in control, for Victor’s sake.

Logan:

(steady, resolute)

"You don’t need to erase my memories. I know what you’re capable of. I know how far you’ll go. But if you leave Victor and innocent people out of this… you’ll have what you want. I’ll be the weapon you need. You don’t have to wipe my mind to get that."

There’s a long, tense silence. The scientists and guards watch the exchange closely, unsure what Stryker will do. Stryker himself stares into Logan’s eyes, searching for weakness, for fear. But all he sees is determination—Logan is offering him everything he wants, without needing to force him.

Stryker smirks, clearly intrigued by the idea. A willing Wolverine, one who would obey without needing to be brainwashed, could be even more useful than he’d planned.

Stryker:

(slowly, carefully)

"And if I accept this… deal… you’ll fight for me? No questions asked?"

Logan:

(nods)

"As long as Victor’s left alone. And as long as you keep innocent people out of it."

Stryker tilts his head, as if considering the terms. For a moment, Logan fears Stryker will reject the offer and order the memory wipe anyway. But then, Stryker gives a slow, calculating smile.

Stryker:

"Alright, Logan. You have a deal. Victor will remain unharmed, and I’ll… limit collateral damage. But remember this—you’re mine now. If you cross me, I’ll make sure you regret it."

Logan lets out a slow breath of relief, though his face remains stoic. He knows Stryker’s word is worth little, but for now, it’s the best chance he has of protecting Victor and keeping innocent people out of harm’s way. He nods, resigned to his fate as Stryker’s weapon.

Logan:

(quietly)

"I won’t cross you. Just keep your end of the deal."

Stryker steps closer, his voice low and menacing.

Stryker:

"Oh, I will, Logan. Just remember—you may have your memories, but that doesn’t make you any less of a tool in my hands. Don’t forget who holds the leash."

Logan glares at him but doesn’t respond. His chest rises and falls heavily, the weight of the adamantium—and the weight of his decision—bearing down on him.

Stryker:

(to the room)

"Prepare him for his first mission."

The scientists and guards spring into action, but Logan remains still, his fists clenching at his sides. He’s trapped, but at least he’s made sure Victor is safe. For now.

----

INT. WEAPON X FACILITY – NIGHT

The sterile, metallic corridors of Stryker’s facility hum with a clinical detachment as Logan walks through them, still covered in the blood of his first mission. The adrenaline has faded, and exhaustion seeps into his bones, but his healing factor keeps him moving. His mind, however, is weighed down by what he’s done. He wasn’t fighting for himself, or for honor, but as a tool—just like Stryker wanted.

As he approaches the control room, Logan straightens himself. He’s still thinking about Victor, about the deal he made, and about the cost of what he’s done. He can still feel the warlord’s life slipping away beneath his claws.

Stryker waits in the control room, surrounded by monitors and a team of scientists. He barely looks up when Logan enters, his fingers tapping on the control panel as if this is just another day at the office. Logan, bruised but resolute, steps forward to deliver his report.

Logan:

(voice low, tired)

"The mission’s done. You can move in and take the tech. The warlord’s dead."

Stryker glances up, a cold smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He nods in satisfaction but doesn’t acknowledge Logan’s fatigue or what he’s just endured. To him, this is just business.

Stryker:

"Good. Efficient, just as I expected from you."

Logan takes a step forward, his body aching for rest. His muscles are tight, and despite his healing factor, he feels the weight of everything pressing down on him.

Logan:

(gruffly)

"Where’s my room?"

Stryker looks up, surprised for a moment. Then, he laughs—cold and sharp. The sound cuts through Logan like a blade. The tension in the room builds as Stryker rises from his seat, stepping toward Logan.

Stryker:

(voice dripping with condescension)

"Your room? You think there’s a bedroom for you, Weapon X?"

Logan frowns, confusion and anger flickering in his eyes. He stands his ground, but his fists clench instinctively as the weight of Stryker’s words sinks in.

Logan:

(quietly)

"What are you talking about?"

Stryker steps closer, circling Logan like a predator sizing up its prey.

Stryker:

(taunting)

"You’re not Logan anymore. You’re not some man in need of rest. You’re Weapon X. That’s your name now. That’s your identity. You’ll be called nothing else."

Stryker motions to two scientists standing nearby. Without warning, they grab Logan by the arms, dragging him toward a large, metal chamber in the corner of the room. Logan growls, trying to pull free, but their grip is strong, and his weakened state after the mission leaves him vulnerable.

Logan:

(growling, resisting)

"What the hell is this?!"

Stryker watches with amusement as Logan is pushed toward the chamber, a thick metal pod with a single window in the front. The chamber is cold, sterile, and uninviting—a far cry from the rest Logan was expecting.

Stryker:

(smirking)

"You thought you’d have a bedroom, a place to rest your head? No, Weapon X, you’re not here to rest. You’re here to be the perfect weapon—my weapon. That means no luxuries, no comforts. You’ll sleep when I say so, and you’ll eat only what I give you to maintain peak performance."

Logan’s anger surges, and he begins to struggle against the scientists, trying to free himself. His claws start to extend with a metallic SNIKT, but before he can act, Stryker steps in front of him, his voice cold and commanding.

Stryker:

(voice low, menacing)

"Remember your promise, Logan. You said you’d obey. You said you’d be my weapon. You want to go back on your word now? Do you want to see what happens to Victor if you do?"

Logan freezes. The mention of Victor is enough to stop him in his tracks. His claws retract with a heavy sigh, and his body slumps in reluctant submission. He knows he’s trapped, and for Victor’s sake, he can’t fight back. Not yet.

The scientists force him into the metal chamber, strapping him down into the small sleeping pod. The restraints click into place, leaving Logan unable to move. He grits his teeth, glaring at Stryker, but says nothing.

Stryker:

(coolly)

"Good boy. Now, from now on, this is your home. You’ll sleep here, in the chamber, where we can monitor you at all times. You’ll be fed through artificial means to ensure you maintain the perfect physical condition. No more ordinary food for you. We wouldn’t want you to gain any unnecessary weight, would we?"

Stryker motions to the scientists, who approach with a tube and an IV drip. Logan’s eyes widen as they force the tube into his mouth and down his throat, connecting it to the feeding system. The sensation is uncomfortable, humiliating, and painful all at once. Logan gags, but the scientists hold him steady, making sure the tube is secure.

Stryker watches, pleased, as the thick, nutrient-rich mush begins to flow down the tube and into Logan’s stomach. It’s tasteless, a cold, artificial substitute for real food. Logan’s chest heaves as he tries to resist, but there’s nothing he can do. His body is being sustained by this thick, metallic-tasting sludge.

Stryker:

(leaning in, whispering)

"Get used to it, Weapon X. This is your life now. No more Logan. No more luxuries. Just obedience. Just the mission."

Stryker turns and steps away, signaling for the scientists to close the chamber. Logan watches helplessly as the metal door slides shut, sealing him inside. The lights flicker off, and he’s left alone in the darkness, with nothing but the sound of his own breathing and the steady hum of the machines.

The cold air of the chamber presses in on him, the restraints digging into his skin. The artificial feeding tube continues its relentless work, pumping the nutrient mush into his body. Logan grits his teeth, trying to endure the sensation, his muscles tensing with frustration and anger.

For the first time in a long time, Logan feels truly helpless. He’s a prisoner in his own body, and there’s no way out. All he can do is close his eyes, try to ignore the tube, and let sleep take him.

As the machines continue their work, Logan drifts into a restless sleep, his mind filled with thoughts of escape, of rebellion, and of the promise he made to Victor.

---

INT. WEAPON X FACILITY – SLEEP CHAMBER – MORNING

The quiet hum of machines and the cold darkness surround Logan as he lies restrained in his chamber. The nutrient-rich mush has been flowing into his body through the feeding tube all night, his muscles nourished despite the lifeless, clinical way his body has been kept functioning. Slowly, the chamber’s lights flicker on, cold and bright, signaling the start of a new day.

With a soft click, the restraints holding him in place spring open, releasing his arms and legs. The feeding tube retracts from his throat with a slow, uncomfortable hiss. Logan coughs as the tube exits, but he stays silent, his expression grim and resigned. He steps out of the chamber, feeling the strength in his body, his muscles firm and strong despite the lack of natural food.

Instinctively, his hand goes to his abdomen, touching the taut skin. His belly is as muscular as ever, his body a perfect specimen of human power. And yet, he feels… full. Nourished. As if he had eaten a full meal. But the emptiness remains somewhere deeper—an emotional void that food could never fill.

INT. WEAPON X FACILITY – BATHROOM – MORNING

Logan is led through the metallic halls by two scientists, their footsteps echoing in the sterile facility. The sound of their heels on the cold, unwelcoming floor mixes with the hum of machinery, adding to the oppressive atmosphere. They guide him into a bathroom, an area as clinical and cold as the rest of the facility.

A shower cubicle sits in the center of the room, and Logan pauses for a moment, eyeing it suspiciously. The scientists offer no explanation, only motion for him to undress. His eyes narrow slightly, his hands clenching into fists at his sides, but he knows resisting isn’t an option. Not yet.

Reluctantly, he begins to undress, stripping off the basic garments he had been given before stepping into the cubicle. His muscles tense under the cold gaze of the scientists. There’s no privacy here—only the relentless surveillance of a man no longer seen as a person, but as a living weapon.

Logan steps into the cubicle, expecting water or some form of cleansing, but he notices immediately that there’s no showerhead. Confusion flickers across his face, but before he can react, a sudden blast of disinfectant liquid sprays him from all sides.

The liquid stings against his skin, burning in his nose and throat as he inhales the sharp chemical smell. He growls under his breath, instinctively shielding his face with his hands as the spray continues. His healing factor kicks in, keeping the burning sensation from doing any real damage, but the discomfort is undeniable. His skin prickles as the liquid seeps into every pore.

After a few agonizing moments, the spray ceases, leaving Logan standing in the middle of the cubicle, soaked in the sterile liquid. He glares at the scientists as he steps out, but they remain impassive, emotionless as they offer him a set of clothes—another uniform, devoid of personality or individuality.

Logan dresses quickly, the stench of the disinfectant still clinging to his skin as he pulls on the new clothes. They fit perfectly, as expected, designed to allow for maximum movement and combat efficiency. But there’s no comfort in them—just the cold reminder of what he has become.

INT. WEAPON X FACILITY – CONTROL ROOM – MORNING

Stryker waits for Logan in the same room where their last encounter occurred, surrounded by monitors displaying live feeds of the facility and various ongoing operations. He watches as Logan enters, his sharp gaze never leaving the man who had once been known as Logan. Now, to Stryker, he is nothing more than Weapon X—his prized creation.

Stryker steps forward, a pleased smirk curling at the corners of his lips as he approaches Logan. His eyes flick over Logan’s body, assessing every inch of his newly perfected form. He circles him slowly, as though admiring a piece of fine art, a rare and valuable artifact.

Stryker:

(softly, almost reverently)

"What a beautiful, immaculate weapon you’ve become."

Stryker reaches out, gently caressing Logan’s cheek with the back of his hand, a sickeningly tender gesture that contrasts sharply with the brutality of what he’s done to him. The touch is cold and clinical, devoid of any genuine affection. To Stryker, Logan is a product—a tool.

Logan’s jaw clenches, his muscles tensing as Stryker’s hand brushes his face. His eyes burn with anger, and he jerks his head away, the sharp movement a clear sign of defiance. But he says nothing. Not yet. He’s still playing the role Stryker has forced upon him.

Stryker chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the control he wields over Logan. He steps back, his eyes glinting with satisfaction.

Stryker:

"You’re perfect, Weapon X. A perfect killer. No distractions, no weaknesses. Just strength. Just power."

Logan stands rigid, his fists clenched at his sides, his expression unreadable. But the fury simmers just beneath the surface. He hates every word that falls from Stryker’s mouth, but he knows he can’t act on that hatred—not while Victor’s safety is still in Stryker’s hands.

Instead, he straightens his posture, forcing himself into the role of the obedient soldier. His voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it, a quiet warning buried beneath the surface.

Logan:

(voice tight, controlled)

"Awaiting new instructions, sir."

Stryker grins, his eyes gleaming with triumph. He knows he has Logan exactly where he wants him—for now. He turns back to the monitors, his fingers dancing over the control panel as he brings up a new set of orders. Logan watches, his body tense with barely contained rage, but his expression remains neutral.

Stryker taps a few buttons, pulling up a holographic map of a new location—a target for Logan’s next mission.

Stryker:

"You’re being sent to the Middle East. There’s a growing mutant insurgency, and I need you to take care of it. You’ll have full operational control. Eliminate the insurgents, recover any valuable intel, and report back. No witnesses, no loose ends."

Logan’s eyes flicker toward the map, but his thoughts are elsewhere. Another mission. More killing. More blood on his hands. But he has no choice. He nods, his expression grim as he prepares to do what he must.

Logan:

"Understood."

Stryker watches him for a moment longer, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He knows Logan will follow orders—at least for now. But there’s a part of Stryker that enjoys watching the conflict in Logan’s eyes, the struggle between the man he once was and the weapon he’s been forced to become.

Stryker:

"Go. And remember, Weapon X—you’re mine."

Logan says nothing as he turns to leave the room, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turn white. He may be following orders now, but deep inside, the fire of rebellion still burns. He knows that one day, he’ll have to break free. But for now, he walks out of the control room, his body strong, his mind sharp, and his soul weighed down by the cost of obedience.

[drconstellation]

Taking Things At Face Value

This post is dedicated to all those Ninas out there, who are "just enjoying the show."

I have been pondering an problem that had come up for a second time in another meta I'm writing (I left it out of an earlier one for clarity) regarding acknowledgement of identity and faces in S2, but when you keep running into the same road-block, you have to tackle it head on. Then I ran into the exact same problem a third time here, and the beginnings of this meta has sat in my drafts file staring at me for several weeks while I've been doing other things. But finally, finally, the answer has come to me, while being kept awake by a passing thunderstorm at 1.30am.

MRS SANDWICH: You're a good lad. CROWLEY: I'm not actually, either. But thank you.

Let's start with this exchange between Crowley and Mrs Sandwich, after Crowley has led all the Whickber St shopkeepers out of the ball to apparent safety. She calls him a "good lad," and he denies it, but thanks her anyway, and gives her a charming smile. We all know Crowley hates being called 'nice' and the last time he did something 'good' he got dragged down to Hell for punishment, so it seems like an odd thing to happen.

But the thing is, while Mrs Sandwich is complimenting his actions, he is responding about his appearance - that is neither 'good' (i.e. he is a demon) or a male human (i.e. he is an supernatural non-gendered entity.)

At this point you might be going "yeah, yeah, we know, we get that! Move along op..." but this matters, as you soon will see. We should also note that neither Crowley or Aziraphale judge Mrs Sandwich for being a brothel madame (how Aziraphale does not know this when her shop is just over the road from his I will never fathom, but there you go) and Crowley is actually quite charming all-round to his parallel character (prostitution and demons going hand-in-hand - er, not literally. But they went out the door as the vanguard arm-in-arm, though.)

The Metatron turning up at the bookshop in person is the next scene on the cards. Firstly, archangel Michael doesn't recognize him, but Saraqael obviously does.

Now, I know I'm guilty of saying that Michael may have had their memory adjusted at some time, but I'm going to suggest something else at this point. Saraqael knows who this is, because they have just had a fresh reminder from watching the recordings of Gabriel with Crowley and Muriel. And Saraqael is a pretty smart angel, so lets give them some leeway on this one. But for Michael, well, they are in the same situation as Aziraphale. They have only seen the Metatron as giant floating head without a body, so don't associate him with this appearance before them, and also because he has a beard.

Just before you jump on me and say "But he had one in the recordings!" yes, yes, I know. Two things, though, I want to bring to your attention: angels are not supposed to have facial hair,* and he doesn't have any in S1 (I checked!) and he also makes the comment "This calls for much less attention, though." Yeah, well a giant head floating through the streets of Soho would be quite a sight, wouldn't it, even though they had already been treated to the view of Gabriel's royal rear-end. Aziraphale had only met him once before, as a giant floating head in S1E4 who had had to introduce himself, so we could surmise this is Michael's problem as well, even though they were at Gabriel's trial. This is backed up by a tumblr ask/answer from NG as well, where he said "I think because they normally see him as a giant floating head, and not as a little man in a raincoat."

MICHAEL: Um, and who are you? METATRON: For Heaven's sake. And I mean that most literally. You don't know me? Well, uh, what about you? Demon? Do you know me?

Demon. That is what the Metatron chooses to call Crowley in that company, and we know in hindsight that he knows Crowley's name - as does Uriel, and Gabriel. Even Muriel learns it. But they don't use it, at least not in S2.

Even more notable is that the archangels don't deign to him give the respect of using his chosen name at all. He's not not even their enemy at this point - he's beneath their notice altogether, even though they are in the same room. Only Aziraphale seems to acknowledge his existence, instinctively trying to reach out to him as he passes by.

To Nina, people are coffee preferences.

To Mrs Sandwich, they are desires that need servicing.

So then question I had, and that stopped me, was why did both Crowley and Gabriel question Beelzebub about their new face?

It stood out to me because you don't normally make an obvious comment about the change of actor for a character, and to do it twice - !! You can't ignore that. No meta writer should ignore that. There is a trope term for this, actually, called "lampshading," which means to intentionally call attention to an incongruent situation within a story before moving on, but in a show where nothing is an accident, this seems a bit trite to me. Eventually I realized that this was the whole crux of the problem to me - that while we all too readily take things at face value, its not the faces that really influence us, its our internal values.

In the case of Beelzebub, Crowley recognizes the demon, their power, and their identity via the flies without any doubt; he merely comments on the change of exterior appearance. In terms of value, he knows straight away he's dealing with someone dangerous, no matter what they look like. Gabriel, on the other hand, is judging the book by its cover, and because he doesn't recognize the new cover, he needs proof of which demon he's dealing with, or maybe if they are even a demon at all.

"Bravo," says Nina, "Just enjoying the show." She's already seen a few that week, not to mention just in the general flow of life as a shop owner involved with customer service. If you've had any sort of life in a customer service role I'm sure you've got a few stories you could tell of things you've seen or experienced as well! I know I can.

The conversation between Nina and Crowley after Aziraphale walks away is amusing for all the assumptions Nina makes about them based on what she's observed that week, but also because Crowley tells the truth every in every reply to Nina, and yet she still has no idea what he's really saying. But her judgements, based on her experience and values, still manage to drop the proverbial ton of bricks on his head so badly he slinks off to sooth himself with some alcohol while he thinks about it instead of catching up with Aziraphale to continue being the angel's nameless shadow.

This problem with judging people on previous experience and not on who they actually are is everywhere in S2.

It's Ennon treating Aziraphale, an angel he's never met before, as a slut.

It's Elspeth judging Aziraphale on his accent.

It's Mrs H. giving a powerful demon a blistering tongue-lashing because she thinks he's a just simple human black marketeer.

It's Crowley refusing to call Gabriel "Jim" because he believes Gabriel is faking it.

...and so on. These are just a few examples. I'm sure you can spot a few more.

Which brings us back around to the meeting of the supernatural Councils in the bookshop in S2E6 and Crowley's "invisibility" to the other angels and demons gathered there. A demon to the archangels, an arch-traitor to the demons, why would they want to acknowledge him? Once he restores Gabriel, he becomes rank-less and faceless to them because they don't need him any more - its basically an act of celestial racism.

Nina and Maggie don't really know any better, they still think Mr Crowley and Mr Fell are just, well, "partners." OK, so maybe they've been doing some weird shit the last few days manipulating things in the neighbourhood but they're still obviously a couple a group of the two of them in their human eyes - and neither do they seem to care that they seem to be mlm, either. No judgement there.

A number of times I've seen ops say they've been watching GO with family members who are seeing it for the first time, and the family member thinks they are just "close friends." Why? Because they haven't seen S2 and the kiss? Because they haven't verbally said "I love you" to each other? Do they really need to say that to prove their feelings for each other? Is that just your values creeping to the fore?

And where did you get your values from?

Sometimes you need to stop and question why you think what you think. I'm not just talking about religious indoctrination. Some expectations put on us by by society at large can be insidious. Expectations around how gender should act, the life purpose of a gender, your worth to society if you don't meet certain unspoken standards, age-related behaviour, social norms around alcohol consumption, the way they dress, what someone eats, the way they eat it, that you must be seen to be productive, or busy...take your pick for whatever is prevalent around you at the moment and for your culture. Just start by noticing, and being aware.

Yes, it is pointless, because demons and angels all come from the same angelic stock. There was a bit of a disagreement at one point and they split into two groups, and judgemental labels got applied to them. They are both still bureaucratic horrors. Which ever side wins the final battle, humans still lose.

Mortal humans all look the same inside, too, if you take their face and skin away and take the societal labels off them. We forget that about ourselves all the time.

There doesn't have to be any wibbly-wobbly timeline stuff going on to explain things. What ever happened to the concept of Occam's Razor? The simplest answer is usually the correct one. And that was what I realized in the middle of the night - the cliche I had used to title this was the answer. It's about being aware of those ingrained, instinctive, judgmental values that you don't realize you've learnt, and looking past the faces that you meet.

*oh lawdy, I'm giving strength to all of you who want to believe he is a demon then, aren't I? But do demons have facial hair either?

[factcheckingmclennon]

hey! making a pinned that will for now hold some basic info/disclaimers & may in the future have a read more with a guide to deep dives

navigation

james/lorraine, they/he/she, 24. BA in religious studies/history, going back for a MA in history in january (that's relevant okay that's my CREDENTIALS for this silly blog)

my main is @menlove

I am indeed a shipper! no hate is meant at all by this blog existing, I'm just a historian that is going crazy trying to sort out fact & fiction in this fandom. there's a lot of both and I think a blog like this could be useful

and in that vein, I will never, ever directly come after or @ anyone who shared that misinformation. if you send me a request and start it with "I saw so and so post x, is this real?" I'll make a post without your ask in it. I don't want to send hate anyone's way. if it's an older post, i'll probably link the source of the misinformation for the sake of clarity, but if it's a blog that's still active i won't & i'll just screenshot. (maccaswife1978 is not a real person btw dgshdhshs. as far as I know! sorry if anyone's ever had that username)

I'm always open to correction. I have 0 way of knowing or finding everything, so if you have a credible, reliable source that I didn't find in my deep dive of something I rated fake/neutral, please let me know! I'd love for some of these to be real

I also take requests! feel free to ask me about anything that you want fact checked. just know sometimes I might not be able to find an answer or I might be bogged down & not be able to answer just then. I'll do my best to get to everyone, but inevitably my mental health and life Will come first so......

rating system

fake- this is a source that, from everything I can find, only loops back to other mclennon blogs/forums. again, I'll take correction on these.

neutral- this is a source that is fake in some way but real in others. maybe it's a quote taken wildly out of context, or the quote passed around is fake but the content really did happen & has a more grounded source. or maybe it was written in a biography that didn't use citations and I have no idea where that author got that information, so you should take it with a grain of salt. or maybe it's something that isn't necessarily fake, but there's not enough evidence to definitively prove it one way or another (i.e. did anything happen in india?) whatever the case, this source has ended up neutral in the grand scheme of mclennon.

real- happy day for us all, these are for ones that turn out to be real! these are ones that are backed up by one or more reliable source & have hard evidence

source reliability

what do I mean by "reliable source"?

for me to count a source as "reliable" and count it towards a fact/quote being real, it has to be one of these things: first-hand (interviews, auto biographies, etc), recorded (video/photographic evidence, basically), or a well-sourced/respected biographer.

sources that fall into the in between category and might still earn a "real" rating but should be taken with a grain of salt are things like: second-hand sources (& who they are is important in determining how big that grain of salt should be), biographers who are allergic to sourcing, and things like lyrics/poetry/short stories which rely heavily on interpretation unless explained by either john or paul themselves. none of these automatically mean a "neutral" or "fake" rating, but they're taken into account.

and sources that will earn a fake rating once they're found to be the original source: tumblr blogs, deviantART pages, fan forums, gossip columns, etc. basically, if all I can find is someone writing out "slash beatles quotes" on a page in 2011, it's getting chucked in the bullshit pile unless someone else can find a source that predates it.

[bingeeaterblog]

Messy kaneki breakdown (kakuja centric)

Kaneki is genuinely so unwell but he still manages push past that and create a life for himself???? He's been through so much and instead being like "I suffered why wouldn't they" he actively wants to make a change in the world so people don't suffer like he did! He would do anything for the people he loves he would DIE for them.

I wanna talk about his kakuja form, there's no way around it is a psychotic break he is actively self sabotaging and killing himself thinking what is doing is for the sake of the people he cares about.

His hallucinations of rize and Jason destroy him even in death he can't escape them always in the back of his mind they will always be part of him rize genuinely INSIDE him and Jason in his mind and his stomach in the centipede appendages that trail down his back.

He's pushing people he loves away thinking it's for their own good if he doesn't he's still the pathetic man that let ryoko die right? He doesn't know if what he's doing is actually right but he has to try doesn't he? Cause if he doesn't what was it all for? All the pain all the counting the sick cracking of knuckles HIS knuckles being ripped off over and over it has to all be for something doesn't it?

Kaneki is actively decaying and I mean this is his state of mind, the lack of help and support after his torture maybe but also the cannibalism, it is actively eating away at his mind making him go mad his constant gorging disgusts him but he keeps GOING.

When he hears Amon say he's just like every other ghoul (I actually prefer the dubs anime version of this line "you're nothing but a heartless killer" it just hits a little harder for me) and in a moment of clarity he realizes what hes doing and he gives in, bowing before Amon "I don't wanna eat anymore" (whatever punishment you see fit kill me in an act of justice).

I think Amon is a very interesting parallel to him, someone who sees the world in purely black and white having that view changed when he meets a ghoul who /doesn't/ want to kill him. He's curious it gives him some sort of hope that the world could be different. Yet still when he sees a ghoul who he once thought as (almost) pure hearted eating and tearing at someone he looks up to? He doesn't fully resent him. He does at first but seeing that ounce of regret and shame when he comes back to earth? What happened to him? What made him turn out this way? What happened in that aoigiri base that changed you so? Will I ever truly know you?

Ok byeeee :3

[parkerslatte]

Songbird || FOURTEEN

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.9k

Part Summary: Y/N and Warren talk about what is bothering her and the Aurora sessions come to a close.

previous chapter / next chapter

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist

•••

TRACK FOURTEEN;

BALLROOM BLITZ

***

...

Y/N sat on the living room couch; the television in front of her wasn't showing anything of particular interest to her. The light filled the room, casting shadows onto the walls. Apart from the television, there was no noise in the house. Karen and Graham were out together somewhere, Eddie had left not long ago, giving a very awkward goodbye to Y/N, and she didn't know where Warren was. 

Y/N had a bottle of whiskey open next to her, and she occasionally took a swig, letting it burn down the back of her throat. She could be out partying right now, and instead, she was sitting alone on the couch, drawing her feelings in alcohol. Grabbing the bottle, Y/N took another swig, a longer one. 

"Woah, what are you doing here?" Warren questioned, walking into the living room. 

"Drowning my sorrows," Y/N says, "Care to join me?" She held the bottle of whisky. 

Looking like he was about to go out, Warren took the bottle out of her hand and took a swig before collapsing on the couch next to her. 

"You don't have yo stay, y'know," Y/N says, "You can go out."

Warren waved his hand, "Nah, I'd rather spend my time with you anyways."

Y/N smiled before taking another sip of the whisky and passing it back to Warren. 

"So, what's got you down?" Warren questions.

Y/N sighs and rests her head on the back of the couch, "Everything."

"Well, I'm here to hear all about it." Warren says, copying Y/N's actions. 

"I'm sure that you won't want to hear about most of it." Y/N says. 

"Why?" Warren chuckles, "It's not like you're screwing any of us."

Warren laughed, but Y/N didn't. When Warren noticed this, he turned to her; his laughter slowly faded, "You're not screwing any of us, right?"

Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line before taking the whiskey out of her hands and taking a long swig. Warren watched with a confused expression on his face.

"Who is it?" Warren presses, "Actually don't tell me, I don't want to know," He pauses, "Actually I want to know."

"For christ's sake, Warren, it's Eddie!" Y/N exclaimed. 

For some reason, telling someone gave Y/N a sense of clarity, and some weight crushing her was lifted.

"Wow," Warren says, "And to think if you screwed any of us, I would be the one."

Y/N chuckled and rested her head on Warren's shoulder. The two sat in silence for a while. The silence between them was comforting; she always felt at ease in Warren's presence. Despite all of Warren's flirty comments, she knew he never meant them. 

"So when did it start?" Warren questioned after a while, "You and Eddie?"

Y/N sighed, "Well it happened twice, once at that party just after Billy came back from rehab and then the day Billy and Camila moved out."

"So you're not screwing anymore?" Warren questioned.

"No," Y/N says, "After the first time we both agreed that it was a one time thing, then when it happened again, it changed everything."

"I did wonder why the two of you were acting weird with each other," Warren states, "How did it change everything?"

"Well he refused to even look at me," Y/N says, "He would avoid me constantly, he then met that girl and brought her back to the house."

"Oh shit that was the girl who looked like you!" Warren exclaimed, "She was dull."

"That's what Karen said." Y/N says, lifting her head from Warren's shoulder.

"So what else happened?" Warren asks, "Because you two seem pretty hostile with each other, you more to him."

"Well that party at Camila and Billy's he cornered me and wanted to talk about that night, finally after ignoring me for so long." Y/N says.

"Was that the night you were with that James guy?" Warren questions.

Y/N nods, "Yeah, he was quite dull."

Warren chuckles slightly, "Yeah, he was asking me all night about him, asking me about who he was and why he was with you. He barely paid any attention to his date."

Y/N pauses, thinking about Warren's comment for a while, "He came to find me that night and we had an argument," Y/N says, "He said that that night meant nothing to him and I said the same. After that we just kind of avoided each other."

"You seem to be holding back from something," Warren says, "You can tell me."

Sighing, Y/N reached over to the nearly empty bottle of alcohol, "We're going to need a lot more of this."

***

Y/N and Warren lay sprawled on the couch; Warren's vest was discarded, leaving his bare torso in the open. Y/N had also discarded her cardigan, leaving her in just her top and shorts. There was a nearly empty bottle of wine between the two, and the whisky bottle was empty on the floor next to the two.

"And then I told him to not talk to me." Y/N says, her voice beginning to slur. 

"Wait, wait, wait, so he tried to kiss you again that night?" Warren says.

"Yep," Y/N confirms, "At the album cover shoot he tried to apologise for it again, but I set him straight, I said that our friendship wasn't working out, that night really ruined everything."

"And that's how you ended up here?" Warren says.

"Yeah," Y/N says, "I could be out there screwing whatever guy I want and I'm sat here drinking my sorrows away."

Warren pauses, "Y/N, I'm going to say something but you have to not interrupt me, okay?"

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, "What do you mean?"

Warren sighs, "You're leaving one thing out of this explanation, that fact that you fell in love with Eddie."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but Warren shook his head, "You promised you wouldn't interrupt. Now, I can't speak for Eddie but what I can say is that everything I've noticed about him is that he has been different since you've been around. He's been happier, he doesn't complain as much. You wouldn't be hurting this much if you didn't love him."

Y/N was silent; she didn't say a thing.

"Now I could be wrong, but I think you love Eddie and you are scared to admit it and I think he is in love with you." Warren says.

"I am in love with him." Y/N says, finally speaking. 

"Then tell him." Warren urged. 

"I can't," Y/N says, "Because if your hunch is wrong and he doesn't love me, then whatever friendship we ever had, no matter how small that is now, will be completely ruined and then that will make things awkward."

"But there is that chance that he does love you back," Warren says, pulling her into a hug, "And I'm sure that I'm right."

Y/N didn't respond; she only hugged Warren tighter. Everything he had said was true, and she hated that he could read her that well. Despite everything Warren had said, Y/N wasn't sure if she would tell Eddie. There was still a small slither that he didn't love her, and then she would mess things up even further. 

"You wanna know something?" Y/N says. 

"What?" Warren questions.

"Your future wife is going to be one lucky woman to have a guy like you." Y/N says.

Warren smiled before kissing Y/N's cheek, "And your future husband, maybe one we already know and love, is going to be a lucky man."

Y/N only offered Warren a small smile before resting her head on his chest. Thoughts continued swirling through her head, her eyes closed, and she drifted off into a dream-filled sleep, Warren following shortly after. 

***

Much later that night, when Eddie walked into the house, his hair was a mess, and his shirt was messed up; lipstick stains were present on his skin that he tried to wipe off, but they were still clearly visible. He sighed when he walked through the door, immediately kicking his shoes off and shrugging his jacket off. He didn't know how to feel. 

As he walked into the living room, he froze. There on the couch were Y/N and Warren. His heart stopped, but once he realised that they were both asleep, he sighed in relief; he didn't want to explain himself. 

As he walked past the two, his heart twisted. Y/N was asleep on Warren's bare chest while his arm was wrapped lazily around her shoulder. He only wished that he were in Warren's place. 

Walking past the two and into his room, Eddie collapsed onto his bed, not bothering to change. Thoughts were swarming around his head. Eddie needed a distraction, and he got one, but he wasn't exactly sure how much this distraction would impact his friendship. Sighing and turning over on his bed, Eddie let out a sigh. It was a problem for the next day.

***

When Y/N and Warren woke the following day, she recalled the previous night's conversation. A small ounce of weight was lifted from her chest, but most of the weight was still there.

"What I told you last night, can we keep that between us?" Y/N says.

"What conversation?" Warren questions and sends her a wink.

Y/N smiles before rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and heading into her room to get ready for the day. They were wanted at the studio again, this time early in the morning, and Y/N wasn't sure how many more early moringa she could take.

As she got ready and headed into the kitchen to make a quick breakfast before she left the house for the entire day, she bumped into Eddie, who was exiting his room. 

"Oh, hey." Y/N says.

Eddie only offered Y/N a tight-lipped smile before he walked down the hallway and out of sight. She heard the front door open and close, signalling that he had left the house. Y/N knew that she was the one that suggested that they just remain civil with one another, but after her conversation with Warren, she wanted to retract that statement. 

With a shake of her head, Y/N continued her route towards the kitchen to make breakfast. 

***

"You regret me and I regret you." 

As Billy walked into the studio, Daisy sang to Y/N, Karen, Warren and Graham, "You can't handle your liquor, and you can't seem to handle the truth. I'm a slippage in the system, and I'm perfectly ready to strike. So go ahead and regret me but I'm not easing up on this mic."

Daisy stands up with a piece of paper, "I wrote one for you this time."

Billy takes the paper and gives it a quick read, "This isn't going on the album."

"Why?" Daisy questioned.

"We agreed to write everything together."

"You wrote 'More Fun to Miss' without me, right? That's going on the album." Daisy replied.

"Yeah, well, this is different." Billy protested.

"Why?"

"Cause I say it is, that's why." Billy says, agitated.

"Like that's a reason that will hold up in court." Y/N mumbled.

"Show of hands," Daisy says, "Who thinks this song should go on the album?"

Y/N immediately raised her hand alongside Daisy's. Karen's hand raised not long after.

"It's a good song, Billy," Karen says, "Isn't that what we're all here for?"

"She's right man." Warren spoke up, "It's good."

From inside the booth, Teddy raised his hand, solidifying that the song was going on the album. Y/N smirked at the pissed-off look on Billy's face.

"This is bullshit." Billy says before leaving.

"See ya," Daisy says, taking a seat.

"Hey, where you going?" Warren asks.

"Come on, Billy." Karen says.

"Like a fucking toddler who doesn't get his way." Y/N says. 

Daisy smiles at Y/N's comment, "Should we run through it?"

As the band recorded the song, Y/N had a genuine smile for the first time in what she thought was forever. She got to do whatever she wanted, record backing vocals for Daisy, and she was having a good time recording the song. 

However, as she looked over at Eddie from across the room, her smile faltered as he looked directly at her, no emotion on his face. A look between the two could usually say so many words, but Y/N couldn't figure this one out or if he was even saying anything. As he looked away, Y/N allowed a smile to appear on her face once again. 

She pushed aside all of her feelings and focussed on the music, and for the first time in a while, Y/N was truly happy.

…

DAISY JONES: And that's how we ended the Aurora sessions.

GRAHAM DUNNE: We had a three-week break before rehearsals started.

WARREN ROJAS: I chartered a boat, and I sailed down to Mexico with these, these two sets of identical twins…

Y/N L/N: I remember Warren asked me to go with him, but he had his hands pretty full. During that time, I bought my own house and moved in there [laughs]. I had a lot of parties in that house.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: I just stayed around, you know. Just to see what happened or whatever.

KAREN SIRKO: I don't think we did anything actually…

…

Y/N danced around her living room with a group of complete strangers; Karen, Graham, and Eddie were somewhere in her house, but she wasn't sure where. As the song on the radio changed, she smiled, immediately recognising the song. Grabbing the nearest bottle of alcohol, she began to dance around the room, pulling people in. 

Her body moved to the music, her hips swayed, and her hands were in the air. As she gripped onto someone new, he wrapped an arm around her waist, swaying to the music with her.

"What's your name?" Y/N shouted over the music.

"Andreas!" He shouted back.

"Nice to meet you Andreas!" Y/N shouted, "I'm Y/N."

He grabbed the bottle from Y/N's hand and took a sip, "You're a part of this band."

"Yep," Y/N says, "I'm the rhythm guitarist." 

"I'm not exactly sure what that is but It's sounds great anyways." Andreas says. 

Y/N threw her head back, laughing, and she continued to dance with Andreas. 

From across the room, Eddie held onto his drink. He spoke to a few people who approached him, but he was focused on Y/N and Andreas. If looks could kill, Andreas would be six feet under.

"I think there's someone staring at you." Andreas says into Y/N's ear.

Turning around, Y/N made eye contact with Eddie, and her heart felt heavy. As soon as she looked, he looked away, turning to have a conversation with the person next to him. 

"He loves you." Andreas says, "That is a look of love."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, "Well he's been avoiding me for weeks, so I really don't think it's a look of love."

Since that night Y/N had that conversation with Warren, Eddie had avoided Y/N at all costs. If she walked into a room, he would usually walk out. If she said something to him, he would give her a short reply before dropping the conversation entirely. It hurt her that he was acting this way with her. Finally figuring out her feeling for the bassist, Y/N wanted to talk to him, maybe build to that conversation she dreaded. Still, every time she interacted with him, he would dismiss her. 

Not only was Eddie treating her this way, but Camila was as well. Y/N had called her multiple times to hang out for the day or have a girl's night with her and Karen, but she always said she was too busy with Julia or Billy was taking her out somewhere. The first few times, Y/N let these excuses slide, not thinking anything of them, but as Camila continued to dismiss all of Y/N's efforts to hang out, Y/N finally figured out that Camila was avoiding her as well. 

"Well if that's not the look of love, then I'm blind, darling." Andreas says.

"What about you, huh?" Y/N questioned, "Because that guy standing over there has been giving you 'the look of love' ever since you've been with me."

Andreas looks behind him, and he sighs, "It's complicated.”

"Well we have that in common," Y/N says, "Now why don't me and you just get fucked up and forget about everything troubling us."

"I like you, Y/N," Andreas says as Y/N grabs another bottle of alcohol.

"Good because I like you too," Y/N says, "Now, let's dance!"

…

Y/N L/N: Parties like that were frequent at my house in the weeks leading up to rehearsals. I invited the band to everyone; Karen and Graham showed up to most of them, but Eddie stopped coming after one. Despite my feeling for him, having the space from him did me some good. I felt like I wasn't constantly worrying about what was happening between us. I felt like I could finally breathe…well, until the tour started. 

Taglist:

@itsthegamemaster @pinkdaiisies @atrimmunson @siredstiless @jihyoforlife @accidrainonme @meet-me-backstage @littlehoneyfreak @spidermanenthusist @2seatsporche @neptunes-curse @guichu @phoenixhits @oniysngel @lcvecstiel @aztoried-poet @loser-keiji @lanadevotee @hannaastark

- strike through could not be tagged - 

- add youself using the form linked at top -

[willalove75]

Mother witch x fem!witch!reader, she and reader were best friends (secretly in love with each other and in different covens) but after MW used the power spell reader lost trust and stopped hanging out with her. Decades later they reconcile?

Also, what do you think Mother witches real name would be??

Oh I LOVE this!!!!

Thank you so much for the request!!💕💕

A/n: For the sake of making my life easier, I'm going to pretend that witches covens inhabited Salem long before the settlers actually arrived and that you don't need ingredients for the spell hehee

ALSO I'm sorry this got out of hand and I have to make a part 2 bc this was getting longgggg heheh but no fear I'll have part 2 out tomorrow!💕

18+ only minors DNI

Part 2

Wandering the Forbidden Woods in your cat-form during the large full moon, you feel the power inside of you grow. As the moon ascends into the sky, you look up and stretch out your paws, gently kneading the ground below you. In an instant the fur on your back stands up, an unsettling charge filling the air. As the leader of your coven, it's your duty to investigate any disturbances, especially those with any magical effect to them.

With a quick hiss, displeased about needing to investigate on a night like this, you head off into the direction you feel the magic pulling you towards.

Memories fill your head as you make your way through the forest, knowing every downed tree, every vine, every hill and valley like the back of your hand. You grew up in these woods, ran through the dead leaves, played in the darkness, the forest is your home. Most people, regular humans mostly, are usually terrified of these woods, but here, you thrive.

One of your earliest memories comes to the front of your mind, The Meeting of the Covens, you couldn't have been older than 5 or 6 at the time. Flashes of your parents, the former leaders of your coven, welcoming the surrounding covens into your territory. Hundreds of witches and warlocks gathered from different covens, your coven alone had about 30 or so members, one of the largest covens having nearly double that. Some of the smaller covens had only a few more than a dozen members, but during The Meeting of the Covens, you were all one. The meetings took place every other month or so, so the leaders can discuss important matters, but to also give the opportunity for socialization between the neighboring covens.

It was Midsummer, your favorite time of year. The sun was warm and the sky was blue without a cloud in sight. Your parents had left you with the other few children in your coven to play and you remember watching as the older children from yours and the surrounding covens dancing around the Maypole. Watching in awe, your focus was broken when a little girl with curly blond hair and bright green eyes stood in front of you. With her head tilted to the side, she looked at you with curiosity on her face.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm watching the dance." You replied shyly.

"Why?"

You remember the question confusing you a bit, why wouldn't you watch?

"Um, I- I don't know."

"You're silly. I'm Griselda what's your name?" The little girl asks with a big toothy smile.

"Y/n."

"What coven are you from y/n? I'm from the Sisters of Clarity!"

"Coven of the Setting Sun."

Just when you thought the little girls eyes and smile couldn't get any bigger, they widened even more.

"Woowwww! This is your home?!"

Nodding your head, you look around, taking in the scene around you.

"Do you wanna be my friend?!" Griselda asks with excitement in her voice.

You turn back towards her, noticing a spark in her eyes, you could feel that even at such a young age, this little witch has power in her. But her power didn't scare you, knowing you had power in yourself as well, it actually excited you. It dawned on you in that moment that you really didn't have any friends, sure there were other kids in your coven, but none of them were your age. None of them wanted to play with you, so you usually spent time alone, practicing your magic or playing by yourself.

"You, you want to be my friend?"

"Of course I do!"

"O-okay."

"YAY!"

Griselda grabs your hand and takes off running towards the open field.

"You can call me Zelda!" She shouts as you run.

From then on, the two of you were inseparable. Even though you came from different covens, you later found out that her covens territory backed up to yours, making it easy to meet up and play. Although you didn't see each other every day, you got together at least once a week, sometimes more if you were lucky.

The older the two of you became, the closer you got. Once you both turned sixteen you both began to come into your powers. When your formal training began, you two saw less of each other and you hated it. The two of you begged your parents to send you to train with a sorcerer together, but both of your parents disagreed until you were in more control of your powers. You and Griselda were powerful witches and for the next two years you both trained extensively to control and develop your skills.

On your 18th birthday, your parents agreed to send you both to the same sorcerer for more intense training. It wasn't something that was usually done, but given your closeness and the fact that both yours and her parents were the leaders of their respective covens, they allowed the two of you to train together.

The day you moved in with your mentor was the most excited either of you had been in your lives. Instead of having to plan your next meeting, the two of you would be living under the same roof for the next few years, it was a dream come true for the both of you.

It had been some time since you were able to see each other because of the extensive training, so when Zelda made it to your mentors house, you ran into each others arms. Looking into her eyes, your stomach filled with butterflies, brushing it off as excitement to see your best friend, you didn't think much of it.

As the weeks went on, you caught yourself admiring her beauty more and more. How her beautiful, long, blond curly hair fell around her face, how her green eyes flashed into the most captivating shade of purple when she got excited or would use her magic. You could have sworn you caught her admiring you from afar when you would train, but each time you talked yourself out of it, telling yourself how ridiculous it would be for someone as beautiful as her to feel that way towards you.

The two of you only lived with the sorcerer for two years before having to return back to your covens. With the end of your training rapidly approaching, neither of you wanted to leave the comfort of the other. Knowing it could be months until you two were able to see each other again after you returned home, you spent every waking moment together.

On the very last night, Zelda came into your shared room with a mischievous look on her face.

"Oh no." You say, looking up from your book.

"What?" She asks innocently.

"No, I know that look, what are you up to?"

"Me? Up to something? Y/n I'm offended!"

"Mhm, sureeee."

"Okay maybe I am."

"I don't know why you think for even a second you can get anything past me. I'm in your head." You say, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Oh I know, and you're not even paying rent! Freeloader."

The two of you laugh and she motions for you to scoot over and sits next to you on your bed.

"Actually if you must know, I have a surprise for you."

"Should I be concerned or...?"

"No!"

"You know I have to ask, last time you had a 'surprise' for me you almost set the forest on fire!"

"Will you ever let that go?! It was one time!"

"Hmm..." You tap your chin pondering for a moment. "Nope, never."

Griselda rolls her eyes at you and pulls a cupcake out of thin air. Flicking her finger over it, a candle appears, with one more flick the candle is lit and she holds it in front of you.

"I couldn't not wish my best friend a happy birthday before she leaves tomorrow."

"Aw, Zel."

"I know it's not until tomorrow, but since we're leaving early I decided it's acceptable to celebrate a little early. Happy birthday, y/n."

Looking at your best friend, your heart feels like it's about to burst, so do the butterflies in your belly. The last two years with her have been the best two years of your life, not only were you able to spend it with your best friend, you realized you were in love with her. Never for a moment thinking she reciprocated the feelings, you never let your feelings for her show, but as long as you had her in your life, you were happy.

"Make a wish!"

You close your eyes and think of what you want more than anything. Immediately, you think of her. All you want, is her. To love her, to care for her, for her to love you back. Opening your eyes, you blow out the candle.

Griselda rips the cupcake in half and hands you one half, shoving her half into her mouth. You can't help but laugh at her while she does it. As regal and dignified as she may come off, you know deep down this is who she really is. After you finish your half you wrap your arms around her, pulling her in for a tight hug.

"Thank you. I'm going to miss you, so much Zel."

"I'm gonna miss you too, y/n."

When you pull away you notice frosting on her cheek.

"You're such a mess, what are you gonna do without me?" You say playfully as you wipe the frosting off of her.

"I'm going to be really sad." Griselda's tone is serious, somber even. As you look into her eyes you can see that they're starting to fill with tears.

"Aw, Zel, don't, you're gonna make me cry." Tears begin to well up in your eyes. A tear rolls down her cheek and you wipe it away, your hand lingering on her cheek. Gazing back into her eyes, you see them flash that beautiful shade of purple you love so much. It confuses you for a moment because you don't know why they did that. A moment later it dawns on you, maybe she does feel the same way.

"Zelda-"

Her lips cut you off when she presses them into yours. Shocked for just a moment, you melt into the kiss and she wraps her arms around you, pulling you into her. Her lips are soft and warm, the sweet taste of the cupcake lingering on them. A gentle tongue brushes over your bottom lip and you part your lips, letting her in. Her tongue flicks across yours and a moan slips from the back of your throat into her mouth.

Griselda shifts her weight and lowers you onto the bed. Warm lips kiss down your jaw and down your neck. You feel her warm breath on your skin as she peppers your neck with kisses. Her hands grab your sides and she squeezes, your body squirms under her when she hits one of your most ticklish spots and you start laughing. Guiding her face back up to yours, you look into her purple eyes once more.

"I can't believe- I didn't- I-"

"Shh." She says, placing a finger over your lips. "I love you, y/n."

"I love you too Griselda."

The two of you spent the rest of the night in your bed, kissing and cuddling, squeezing in as much time together as possible before the morning came and you both had to go separate ways. The two of you have slept in the same bed countless times before, but this time was different. This time, you spent the night in the arms of the woman you loved, and it was the best nights sleep you ever had.

A few months went by without being able to see each other and you hated it. Both you and Griselda began learning how your covens run, preparing to take over in the next few years when your parents are set to retire as the leaders. Learning how to be the leader of a coven is exhausting, not nearly as much fun as learning to use your magic, but it's still rewarding. Your parents finally allowed you to dive into your covens spellbook, something that only the leaders and those who have successfully harnessed their powers were able to do. The spells both fascinated and terrified you, but you learned about how many of the spells in there could be used to help your coven and most importantly, to protect everyone. There were some spells that were off-limits, ones you briefly reviewed but paid no mind to. There was a reason why they were forbidden, and you didn't dare question why.

To ease the pain of not being able to see each other, you and Griselda wrote letters to each other every week. In your letters you talked about what your training has been like, the different aspects of leading a coven of so many, how it's much different than what you had expected, but that you were pleasantly surprised at how much you've been enjoying it. Griselda also wrote about what her experience was like, although it varied from yours given that her coven was one of the smaller ones with just over a dozen witches and warlocks in it. She expressed interest in trying to grow her coven size, how she wants to expand her powers, do as much as she possibly can to make her coven thrive. Her determination and aspirations always inspired you, she was always so devoted to her coven. In her letters you can tell just how passionate she was about doing everything possible for them.

The time finally came where you were able to be reunited with Griselda once more, every cell in your body vibrated with excitement. Neither of you had mentioned your love to anyone, so when you were able to go visit her, the two of you kept up your appearances as best friends until you made it to her home. It was small, nothing extravagant, but it was hers and she was proud of it. Plus, it was private.

Before you knew it, the two of you were in her bed, tugging at each others clothes and tossing them across the room. Your fingers roamed her body as her lips roamed yours. With an arched back and goosebumps across your skin, your whole body filled with ecstasy as her mouth took you over the edge into bliss. When you finally came back down to earth you laid Griselda down underneath you and worshiped her like you had dreamt of for what felt like so many years. With her hand grasping at your hair, beautiful cries escaped from her lips as you made love to her. Her legs shook around your head, dragging out her release as much as you could before she pulled away.

Laying in each others arms, you confessed your love for one another once more, sealing your love with a passion filled kiss.

"I brought you something." You say as you lean over the edge of the bed and grab your bag.

"You did?"

"Yup, just a little something to remember me by and something to show the alliance between our covens." You pull out a circular pendant of your covens sigil. On the left side, a crescent moon, on the right, the trees of the forest completing the circle. In the middle, a star, with a red ruby sitting in the center.

"Y/n, this is beautiful. Thank you." She says, kissing the side of your head.

"Not as beautiful as you are, my love." Her eyes flash purple once more and her lips find yours again.

When your lips part Griselda traces her fingers across the details of the pendant, deep in thought.

"What are you thinking about? I see those wheels turning in that pretty head of yours." You say, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I was thinking of a spell I read in our covens spellbook. Magicae Maxima, the Power Spell."

"Why on earth are you thinking of that spell? Zelda that's one of the forbidden spells."

"I know, but think of how much good it could do. How much I could help my people, how much power it could give me."

"Zelda that spell is dangerous. You know how magic works, even just to cast a simple fire spell, you have to give something to get it. The Power Spell, you'd have to sacrifice so much to gain that much power. It's forbidden for a reason-"

"I know, but-"

"No Zel, no buts. Promise me, you won't even think of using that spell. It can be so dangerous. I don't want anything to happen to you. I know you'd use it for good, but it's not worth it. Promise me, you won't ever use it."

Griselda looks down at you and sees the worry on your face, she presses her lips into your forehead and sighs.

"I won't. I promise y/n."

"Good. There are so many other things you can do, to expand your coven, to gain more power, you don't need that spell Zelda. You have it in you to be one of the most powerful witches ever without needing that stupid spell."

"You think so?"

"I know so. I knew the moment I met you that you had more power than either of us were able to understand at the time. You're amazing Zel, it's one of the many things that made me fall so hard for you."

"I love you, y/n."

"I love you too Zelda."

With another shared kiss, the two of you drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

The next time the two of you are able to meet again is a few months later. Training to become the coven leaders have amped up for the both of you, making you both busier than ever before. When you finally see each other again, the first thing that your eyes go to is the pendant you had gifted her, sitting on her chest, replacing the old clasp to her beautifully made cape.

"You like it?" She asks when she see's you eye the pendant.

"I love it."

"I wasn't sure what to do with it at first, but I knew I wanted to wear it every day. Then suddenly this idea popped into my head and I thought it was quite a brilliant idea."

"Well, you are quite a brilliant witch so I'm not surprised." You quip.

Griselda pulls you in for a kiss and you melt into her arms.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too, y/n."

The two of you spend the day together and as far as you're concerned, it's a perfect day. As the two of you walk hand-in-hand towards the boundary between your territories, you feel a nervousness from Griselda you haven't felt before.

Stopping and turning towards her, you ask her "Are you okay? You seem, I don't know, off all of the sudden." Griselda looks you in the eyes and looks away, a worry spreads across her face that makes your stomach twist. You bring your hand to her cheek and caress it with your thumb. "Zelda, what's wrong? You know you can talk to me, about anything."

"I know," she says, with a sigh. "I just, I don't want you to hate me."

"Love how could I ever hate you?"

"I love you, y/n."

"I love you too Zelda. What's wrong? You're starting to worry me."

With a flick of her wrist, Zelda's covens spellbook appears next to her. She takes the book and it opens to a spell. Zelda looks you in the eyes before she turns the book around.

"There's, there's something I need your help with." A fear creeps into your chest. Looking at the book, you see a worry in its eye. "Y/n, I love you, and I want you to do this with me." Turning around the book you see the Magica Maxima spell open.

[rascal-xo]

The Angel of Death Part 2 - Simon 'Ghost Riley' × Fighter Fem Reader

Summary: You and Simon finally talk which leads to a realization...

Warnings: Violence, language, Action!Fic, bodily injuries, Overlapping of timelines and characters, FLUFF, ANGST

Tags: @pukbadger @fiveshelmet @myguiltypleasures21 @madamemelaninn @emmaadlerrichtofen1 @swissy23 @thatchickwiththecamera @glitterypirateduck @glitteryeggalmondherring @allaboutirem0

A/N: Question for the culture… part 3???

You stand leaning against one of the large cement pillars in the arena behind Laswell as she briefs the undercover agents on their task at hand. Under the dim light, sit 4 combat agents, courtesy of the CIA special forces. As Laswell speaks, you can hear the unwavering confidence in her voice, the way she lays out the plan with precision and clarity.

You scoff in your mind, thinking about how you swore you would never go back to the military, and yet here you were, letting the military come back to you. Funny how life worked that way. The Pit, once a symbol of your freedom and a way to leave the past behind, now becomes the stage for this dangerous dance with Al Qatala.

As Laswell continues, your mind drifts back to the memories of the past few days. The reunion with Simon had been bittersweet. The emotions were raw and overwhelming, yet it felt like coming home after a long journey. He understood you in a way that no one else could, and his presence brought a sense of comfort and support that you desperately needed.

But the weight of the mission still hangs heavy on your shoulders. The prospect of facing Al Asad again, of confronting the organization that once held you captive, brings a mix of fear and determination. It's not just about taking down the arms dealer; it's about reclaiming a piece of yourself that was lost in those dark days.

"Y/N?" Laswell's voice breaks through your thoughts, and you refocus your attention on her. "We need you to take the lead on the secondary extraction route. We can't afford any slip-ups."

You nod, snapping back into the present. "Got it, Laswell. I'll make sure everything is in place."

She gives you a reassuring nod before turning back to the agents. "Remember, this is a high-stakes operation. We need to be precise and quick. Any deviation from the plan could put all of us at risk."

As the hours pass, The Pit fills with spectators, the air buzzing with anticipation and excitement. The fights that take place here are raw and intense, but they remain off the books, hidden from the public eye.

This clandestine nature adds an edge of danger to the atmosphere, reminding you of the high-stakes mission that awaits.

In the backroom, you put on your gear, your mind focused on the task at hand. Just as you're adjusting the straps of your tactical vest, you hear the door creak open, and there stands Simon, his presence like a beacon in the darkness.

He looks at you, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. "I know that look." he says, his eyes locking with yours knowing your mind. His face is bare for the sake of the mission, which still shocks you a bit knowing the lengths Simon is willing to go for this operation.

You take a deep breath, the weight of the past weighing heavily on your shoulders. "Its the only look I got." you reply, your voice humorous but honest. After a few beats of silence you finally let out a breath you don't realize you're holding. "I'm sorry." You admit, meeting his gaze.

Simon's expression softens as he listens to your voice. He reaches out and gently cups your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. "We can't change the past, Y/N" he says, his voice tender.

You feel a lump forming in your throat, the weight of the past few years crashing down on you. "I should've said something before leaving." you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't know how to deal with everything."

Simon pulls you into a comforting embrace, holding you close. "I should have fought harder for you," he murmurs, his words tinged with regret. "I let you go knowing it was what you needed, but I was angry for not being there for you when you needed me the most.”

You bury your face in his shoulder, feeling a mix of relief and sorrow washing over you. For so long, you had carried the burden of leaving him behind, thinking it was the right thing to do.

But now, as he holds you in his arms, you realize that you weren't the only one affected by the aftermath. Simon places a gentle kiss on your forehead, his touch sending warmth through your entire being. "I'll see you out there, Y/N." He says, before walking out.

As you walk towards the door, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, and for a moment, you don't recognize the person staring back at you. The face in the reflection is strong, resolute, with eyes that hold a flicker of determination you haven't seen in a long time.

The dim light in the backroom casts a soft glow on your features, accentuating the lines of resilience etched into your expression. Your eyes, once clouded with uncertainty, now burn with a fiery resolve.

In this moment, you see the reflection of the person you were, the person you are, and the person you are becoming.

As you continue to study your reflection, a switch is turned inside of you. The weight of your past no longer bears down on your shoulders, but instead, it becomes the fuel that ignites the fire within. The determination in your eyes deepens, and you know that you are no longer running from your demons; you are facing them head-on.

"Y/N, all ready on your end?" Laswell's voice crackles over the comms.

"I'm ready."

[chuluoyi]

Hey Chu! I hope you are well. Now hang on tight because I have so much to say about The Crown of Diamonds ! I know I am super late, but I was just so busy, and I wanted to have my full attention while writing this. SO, let's go one by one. My emotions went on a high drive reading this. Literally.

as he watched the pagoda, he built for you engulfed in flames. You were there. | I was so excited when I saw you post it and then when I read this particular line, my heart just stopped. That whole part before the past events...that is so beautifully written. The devastation in Satoru's words, the way you have described it, my heart kept on sinking.

Satoru's reaction to finding out that the empress is pregnant nearly had me in tears. That was so wholesome.

And then you delivered a masterpiece so exquisitely written that it set my heart racing and left me breathless…All the while I couldn't believe, she was sitting on his face how sexy that was. Chu, If I am being honest, that was sooo intense, given the situation, but it didn't feel forced or rough or "just for the story", you know what I mean. It felt right. Despite whatever was going on in empress's head, they were so passionate. And I loved that. You are so much better than you think you are, Chu.

Am I... a mess? Yeah... My beautiful mess, that is. | That is so sweet and even if I am wrong, this parallel with Polin from Bridgerton S3. 😭 And when he said A princess will be nice... she'll turn out to be as lovely as you. | I fell in love with him all over again. Knowing that it wasn't about having an heir, but simply a child that was part of both him and her, was something the empress didn't know she needed.

Now, I am sorry if this is insensitive but...Naoya learning he was shooting duds was the funniest twist of fate. I knew it. And the realisation that he has thrown away the only good thing he had in his life was so important. And about his dream or him still having the portrait of the empress and him, I don't think it's out of love, I just feel that he genuinely regrets everything he had done to her because they were once childhood sweethearts. Ofc, he cared for her, but that man is dumb, nothing can be done. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Hanabi! Just when I thought I could feel sorry for her…oh that conniving, deceitful hag. How could she even think about cursing a pregnant woman? The empress didn't do anything of that sort when she was supposedly pregnant with Naoya's baby. Well, I guess that's the difference between the empress and her. She should be thankful that the empress didn't retaliate for what she did initially.

even if you are my wife and the empress of this nation, should you commit any transgressions... I won't hesitate to accuse you of treason, Empress. | I hated him. Really, Satoru? How could you say that? Has the desire to destroy, and to call for war over the Eastern Empire blinded you so much that you no longer care about the impact it would have on your wife watching you destroy her homeland, even if you say you truly love her. I know what the Empress did was wrong too. Using Satoru as revenge on her ex-husband, but she truly loves him as well. It's just that he doesn't know that yet. But what Satoru is doing is despicable. And definitely not necessary… It's all just for the sake of his desire to bring bloodshed to the Zen'in line. He doesn't even care about the innocent lives he would take.

Oh, that is longgg! I am sorry I just felt if I didn't say it all, it wouldn't have done justice to this very incredible piece of writing. Chu, it was so great and so much better than the first part. There's so much more clarity and it's so elegantly written. I loved it so much. And to be honest, I am not worried about the cliffhanger and the next (& final) part, because I know you won't break my heart, Right! right? 🥲

love, Ady ❤️

ady! oh my god🥺🩵 i keep rereading your review bc i’m so giddy that you peel it one by one!!🥹 and ofc thank you so so much for reading the crown of diamonds!!! :’) this series is like my baby at this point i’m so happy to be able to interact with a lot of people with this🥹

ooh i’m actually happy that the first scene caught you— that’s intended from the start actually😋 and HAHAHA sitting on his face is actually an idea from milk nonnie and the moment she put that in my mind, i just had to :’) i’m glad you feel like the smut part feels right bc i actually spent 3 days to write it🥲 and thank you so much, ady🫶🏻 i melted from reading this paragraph alone🥺

YOU’RE RIGHT AHAHA🥹 i write that after watching polin so i just had to add that tidbit🥹 and gojo adores the empress so much that he really doesn’t put much thought about whether their child will be a boy or a girl—as you said, he isn’t in search of heir like naoya and the empress is so touched by that🤧

SHOOTING DUDS GOT ME LAUGHING HARD SHWJJW🥹🥹🥹 it’s never out of love with naoya, actually. right from the very start, empress might’ve thought they were childhood sweethearts… but naoya regarded the empress as his equal. but then he fell out of respect with her since she can’t provide him with a heir. the empress never understands that all this time naoya never really loved her tho :’) but at this point, she doesn’t care anymore anyway so that’s that

hanabi isn’t wise—that’s what makes her and the empress different🥹 she looks and acts like a royalty but deep down, she doesn’t really have what it takes💁🏻‍♀️ she idolizes the empress, wants to be like her, and so when she realizes naoya doesn’t acknowledge her and even gifted the former empress the very same necklace she once wore, she sees red and impulsively puts that curse out of jealousy :’)

and that… actually, he has been planning for this war for a while🥹 and he genuinely is under the impression that even if he were to destroy her homeland, she will accept it since she’s no longer there and naoya is a prick anyways🥹 and as of innocent lives… yes, gojo doesn’t care about that :’) he’s one who believes in “necessary sacrifice” so…

and again, thank you so so much ady!!!!🥹🫶🏻 gosh i can’t believe i let all this out too :’) i feel like there are so many little details i excluded from the story so it feels really good to know you actually notice it and to share this with you tooo😭 you’re so sweet and i honestly am so so happy that you read my stories <33

sending you much much love too!!!🩵 take a break and stay safe and healthy always🫶🏻✨

[chiisana-sukima]

@nosammycomeon I moved here so I could go more in depth.

He didn't actually say the writers' room was writing destiel--afaik none of the writers has ever said that explicitly (although it's obvious which writers in the late seasons were in fact doing it, even without explicit confirmation). He said some stuff in a Then and Now additional patreon content interview question that got interpreted in a way he felt he needed to go back and clarify, which is what the tweets are for. The Then and Now content is supposed to be private for patreon subscribers only, but fortunately for clarity's sake, information wants to be free.

You can really see here how the complexity of communication makes everything Worse. Something I've noticed as an autistic person who sometimes finds communication difficult and pretty much always finds lying infuriating is that people in general have a relaxed view of facts. When someone makes [bald statement X] about almost any relatively nuanced topic, [bald statement X] is usually a stand in for a whole big set of information not formally in the communication that the listener is supposed to just understand the speaker means through context. But unfortunately everyone's understanding of any given context is different, so then often the speaker thinks they have communicated [huge set of context about X] but the listener thinks they have communicated [different huge set of context about X]. This is further complicated by the fact the speaker may be intentionally lying about [X], but it's often hard to know one way or the other, and by the fact that sometimes the speaker isn't lying, but doesn't themself understand what they actually believe the context of the statement they made to be.

Here, Edlund is pretty clearly saying as [bald statement X] only that in The End, Cas is ride or die for Dean and he got a note to change the wording because it was too obvious to be good writing. He was taken by some destiel fans to mean that he got a note to change the line because it made it too obvious that Cas was gay for Dean. This is clearly not actually what he said. BUT. To me, both Edlund's bald statement and the subsequent interpretative statements by destiel shippers are probably standing in for a lot of context that fandom is split on.

Cas' decisions in The End are honestly pretty extreme for platonic devotion. I mean, me, an aro, might be that devoted to someone platonically. And me, an aro, values highly the emphasis spn put on platonic devotion throughout the length of its run. To me, the context in spn is always 'yes these people are all platonically insane for each other'.

But lets be honest here, most alloromantic people are not used to thinking about devotion this way, and do not have it as a floating ball of context about spn or about life in general. They have the different floating ball of context that people only do this weird shit for each other if they are romantically in love. In the many cases of Sam and Dean's excessively devoted decision-making, spn uses the excuse that they are brothers (like that somehow explains it all. huge Lisa knows moment, i would not fucken do all that for my sibling).

But with Cas in The End, they don't even have that excuse. Cas just... gives up his entire family, his home in Heaven, his identity as an angel, destroys himself with drugs and cheap sex over the pain of simping for someone who no longer has the capacity to care for him, and then is all 'yep, I'll let you use me as meat-grinder bait without even the courtesy of telling me first'. And not to be all 'there's no platonic explanation for this' but given that it did indeed turn out that Cas canonically has been pining romantically for Dean in the main universe too and doing dumb sacrificial stuff because of it on the regular, and that most alloromantic people don't do world-ending platonic devotion, I think its very reasonable to assume that the destiel shippers are assuming that Edlund's bald statement about "its bad writing to be that obvious" includes the context "its bad writing to be that obvious about Cas being in love with Dean". And I think it's even quite reasonable to assume they are right and that was the context Edlund was speaking from within. His later clarifications don't imo negate that, because they all come with context we may or may not know too. Here is a post where the OP calls out some of that possible context. They are absolutely right imo that contending that Cas' speech in 15x18 could have been platonic reeks of corporate bullshit and impeaches any similar statements about other episodes considerably.

Meanwhile though, it's also true that Edlund didn't say anything explicitly about Cas being in love with Dean in The End and it is also reasonable to take people at their word. Spn really was primarily about platonic devotion. So of course people with a more platonically-minded set of conceptual assumptions will take the context as being "I said what I said and I meant it and nothing else", and they aren't actually necessarily wrong or acting in bad faith imo either. Because who tf knows what Edlund meant; we are all just isolated brains out here floating in our individual meatsuits and having confusing-ass, shit communication.

it's so obvious they knew all along that people shipped it… can't believe anyone would say otherwise.

So like, here's the other side of the destiel fans assuming a bunch of context that may or may not be the context that was intended. When people say "the writers didn't know about destiel", they can't mean it literally. Obviously the writers knew at latest by s10, because they acknowledge it on screen in Fan Fiction. But I think the ball of context around this is not unreasonable either. I think when people say this, the listener is supposed to understand that what they mean is "well of course the writers have heard about fan ships through the grapevine or whatever, but they never took any of that, including destiel, seriously. They never paid it much mind. Maybe they did some fanservice/cheap pandering once in a while, but they never meant it. They never queerbaited and they never intended us to take it seriously."

And while I think the evidence points to this not being the case, I do also think it's a reasonable position. The powers that be really have said multiple times over many years that "destiel doesn't exist", that they'd never heard of it, that "we don't pay any attention to what the fans are saying or change story elements based on what the fans want" (my google fu is failing me for that last one atm, but various writers and showrunners have said this multiple times), etc. The last one at least is CLEARLY a blatant, outright lie once you know enough bts information, but you can't blame people for believing it. These are professional liars; lying believably is their job. That people who believe them and are invested in a platonic reading of the show and often are-- not coincidentally--irritated at destiel shippers' insistence on reading thing (including sometimes ridiculous things) romantically would then go on to be impolitic/imprecise in their language on twitter or their personal blogs is pretty much just human nature.

[walkawaytall]

thoughts I've had about the Han/Leia dynamic that prove that my bar for relationships is on the ground (but, like, also prove that a lot of relationships in fiction somehow tunnel under my ground-level bar every chance they get)

"I appreciate that, despite having just spent several minutes yelling at each other in a public hallway, when they're both working, they interact like damn adults and don't do weird things like refuse to acknowledge each other over the comms**."

"The fact that they go from griping at each other nearly constantly to being nearly constantly affectionate and on each other's sides so quickly kind of indicates that the Echo Base Angst was probably just a bunch of hurt feelings from off-screen events and that these people actually like each other and have for quite awhile, which is good thing in a romantic relationship and also completely different from the interpretation that I do sometimes feel the movie wants us to have, which is that these two idiots yelled at each other for three years straight and then Han's Very Cool and Definitely Not Awkward Flirting for Cool Guys Only™ won the princess over without them ever addressing hating each other for years."

"You know, a huge red flag for unhealthy relationships is mocking your significant other in front of other people, which is a thing that Han could have easily done when Lando asked if they were having issues with C-3PO. Or he could have just overridden Leia entirely and asked for Lando's help, but he instead presented a united front even though he had literally just disagreed with her about trusting Lando when they were alone. I know it was just so they could make a joke. I know Lawrence Kasdan wasn't sitting there going, 'Hmm, how do I depict a healthy relationship where there's a disagreement and an outside party agrees with one of the people in the relationship?' But this is still (sadly) noteworthy."

"They still, like, maintain their personalities and wry senses of humor once they're together without degrading or making fun of one another in a mean way, which strikes a balance I've only seen depicted in fiction a handful of times."

"Han is obviously feeling insecure for plot contrivance reasons, but he apologizes for being needlessly snippy immediately. Go Han."

"This entire 'Is Leia in love with Luke?' subplot has never made any gosh-darn sense to me, no, not even when I was like eleven. But Han offering to step aside rather than getting mad at Leia or Luke or, I don't know, challenging Luke to a duel or something is actually a kind of mature thing to do."

I should note that I firmly believe all of these things happened on accident. At no point do I think the people in charge of writing these scripts were like, "Let's make these two dummies have a bizarrely functional relationship even when we throw nonsensical insecurities into the mix for no good reason". This is the same as Leia being Force-sensitive: they accidented themselves into a better and more cohesive plotline than what they originally intended. But it still works somehow, and I like how things turned out so much better than what it sort of seems like they were attempting to do.

(For clarity's sake: I'm only saying my bar is on the ground because I feel like all of this should just be a given in romantic relationships and I'm sitting here impressed that I've seen any of it depicted in fiction.)

**obviously, Han did just straight-up turn off his comm earlier in the movie which was admittedly immature, but at that point, I assumed he was off-duty since he's working on the Falcon, and I'm specifically talking about being able to work together despite whatever weird personal stuff you have going on with someone (where "weird personal stuff" isn't harming one or both parties, of course).

[righteousness-and-tea]

shuichi + 🍷 for the event pls?

also I'm sorry I didn't say this earlier but congrats on 200!! you def deserve it your work is amazing and I'm so excited to see what else you create!! 🫂

-🍋anon

Thank you so much for your kindness, 🍋 anon! It's been a joy to write for everyone. Also, I'm super excited to write this one... Shuichi is one of my favorites, actually. I'm not sure if I've said much about what characters I like! Anyway, I hope you enjoy it :)

-Mod Celeste

200+ Followers Event: Drunken confession from Shuichi!

(For the sake of clarity, everyone mentioned is of legal drinking age! Also, Mod Celeste says to drink responsibly!)

Shuichi is not usually a drinker. He'll join Kaito and Rantaro at the bar every so often, though he's the designated driver pretty much every time. Not that he minds, of course. He'd hate to lose his inhibitions.

Last time the guys got together, Kaito told him about the annual class reunion in a few weeks. Despite the... quirkiness of his graduating class, Shuichi does still like seeing them every so often. Also, you would be there-- and he's been thinking about catching up since you are often out of the county for work.

"I know you'll be there dude-- y/n already RSVP'd." Kaito laughed as he smacked him in the shoulder.

So, once the day came, there he was. The reunion was usually held at a nice hotel's convention center. A fairly dressy event, but that didn't stop Gonta from not wearing shoes... "you have to admire his consistency," Shuichi thought. It put him at ease to see old friends.

He was making small talk with Maki when you arrived. Dressed sharply and beautiful as ever, his heart stopped at the sight of you. But it had been so long... what would you even talk about? Heck, would you remember him? The anxiety filled his mind.

Kokichi, observant as ever, saw him in this state. He scampered over, mischievous intentions clear, and struck up a conversation. "Heeeeey buddy, cat got your tongue?"

Startled, Shuichi stuttered out a response. "O-oh, uh... yeah, I suppose. Just a bit out of my element, haha." That was an understatement.

"Well... I think I know just the thing. Loosen up, will ya?" With his devious little smile, he passes Shuichi a glass of champagne. In a moment of weakness, he downed the whole thing. Though, it did help.

Looking for some better solace than Kokichi, the detective found Kaito and Maki once again. He saw you talking to the hotel staff, friendly and warm. They could tell Shuichi was a bit shaken, so the pair sat him down and tried to help.

"Listen, man. I know you've got the hots for y/n, so you should be honest!" Kaito was a pretty straightforward guy, for better or worse.

"Now now, Kaito. It's not always that simple..." Maki, the more thoughtful of the two, chimed in.

Shuichi sat at their table, dejected. "I'd love to, but... what if they don't reciprocate? What if I do something wrong?"

Kaito knows when he gets like this, positivity is the remedy. "Have some confidence! You're a really cool guy, and they know it. Just show them that and you can't go wrong! That's how I got Maki-roll, you know." She rolls her eyes, but can't deny it either.

He takes the advice to heart. Trying to embrace the night in stride, he has a few more drinks and makes the rounds to talk to everyone. Shuichi had planned on saving you for last, in the hopes maybe he'd catch you alone. However, the nerves got to him, as did the alcohol. By the time he walked his way over to you (it was more of a stagger, actually), his cheeks were flushed and he had an unusual expression.

"Uh, hey there... y/n." He attempted the charm of a movie star, albeit poorly. "How's it been?" He enquired.

He was clearly a bit inebriated. You thought it was cute, though. The entire night you'd seen him steal glances, only to turn away shyly. He wanted to impress you, and you knew it. You'd had some chemistry back in school, after all. You humored him and answered, with the same "cool-person" attitude.

In his state, he saw this as a win. So, he kept going. Maybe not being held back by his rational side was a good thing? "Let's say we go over the balcony, you and I... I'd like some more alone time with you, if you don't mind," He winked as he took your hand and guided you to the secluded spot. The guardrails were strung with twinkling lights and the view was just stunning.

You asked what his intentions were, and he finally came clean. "So, uh... as it turns out, I'm in love with you. Crazy, right? I have since Hope's Peak, really. I'm sure you've got an awesome partner already though, so this... this is without hope or agenda, okay?" Even in his drunken state, some genuine thoughts slipped through.

Hearing the words after all this time brought you peace. You hugged him tightly, reassuring him you had nobody else. His red face turned redder.

"Huh? Wait, you actually--- huh. I didn't plan this far..." you both shared a laugh at that. The night had worn on very long, however, and it was time to get going. You drove him home, and tucked him in. By that point, he was passed out. What a night!

In the morning, he was greeted with a horrible headache and a note on his bedside table. It read: "Hope you're up for some dinner tonight-- I have an extended stay here at home. Plus, it's about time for a first date, don't you think?" Signed with your name.

The shock finally hit him. "What did I do last night?" Shuichi was partly mortified, but...

Seems Kokichi was right about loosening up.