#he's only human-adjacent in the same way a demon would be? just from the other direction

[mayvnwrites]

Fox demon sy au, except more demon and less uwu.

After dying due to expired food, SY wakes up as a fox demon with a natural affinity to poisons and poisoning. He is unamused at the irony, thanks, but at the same time... he IS kind of in some chaotic demon realm adjacent like place and needs all the help he can get, so ... thanks?

His transmigration even came with a subspace for drying and preserving herbs and ingredients, and an encyclopedic manual of all the possible tinctures, ingredients, and handling procedures installed into his brain.

Pretty adequate, although the subspace can only take medicinal ingredients and can't be used for growing/raising ingredients, and the manual is so massive SY feels like it will take decades to read. (Spoilers: it does take decades to read)

Cool, SY thinks, I can be a wandering apothecary and stuff - but of course things don't turn out like that, because why wouldn't this world be full of poisonous plants that require... um ... *alternative* methods of healing.

After the fifth time someone tries to force SY to cure someone with papapa, he says fk it and, unable to escape in more conventional ways, he poisons his way out of the demon lord's castle.

SY is also beginning to understand which world he's been transmigrated to and is cursing a "Master Airplane" under his breath nonstop as he stomps angrily away from rando demon lord's territory, almost no guilt in his heart because the dude and his vassals eat people and are *assholes*.

SY starts using the direct method (aka poison) in refusing persistent inquisitors that want help he's unwilling to give (whether it's papapa or just a matter of principle) and slowly becomes known more for poisoning than cures. Doesn't help that SY has evolved from death-poisons to poisons that would make you wish you were dead.

Soon SY is known as a fox who would rather kill you than speak to you.

At first SY feels upset about this, because after all that work curing people, killing people is what he's known for? But eventually he's like, whatever gets people to stop bothering me~.

After decades, SY has embraced getting his way with his pretty face and poisonings, becoming a bit of a naughty foxy, and is enjoying his life away from the plot and with much less harrassment by the demons.

He's gained the title of Poisonous Shoutao (longevity peach), and his reputation as a venomous fox demon who could cure whatever ails you but would rather poison you has grown far and wide (as well as his foxy bewitching ways as he gloats over poisoning you).

SY has a long list of admirers and haters alike, including those grateful for his healing and those who want revenge for his poisonings, but what good demon *doesn't* have an enemy or 20?

And then one of his haters sets him up to be the scapegoat of a rash of poisonings in some human communities, and suddenly SY is the target of some pony-tailed pretty boy head disciple from Cang Qiong with a mole, who hasn't realized that the Poisonous Shoutao is outside of his capabilities... after paralyzing the boy, SY thinks about just ending the kid but... well, SY has used his pretty face to sway others before, but this is the first time he's been swayed by a pretty face.

B-besides, it's probably better to avoid making enemies of Cang Qiong, no matter where in the plot they are right now! So SY just teases the kid until the kid's practically steaming (out of anger? or...), reveals he's NOT the culprit, and disappears into the night with a faint scent of nightshade lingering behind.

Expecting it all to be done and dusted after that, SY is surprised to find out that the pretty boy now has a vendetta against him and has sworn to take him down.

Cue cat-and-mouse interactions all over the two realms with a poisonous (and slightly flirty) fox demon chased by a serious (but easily flustered - at least when it comes to a certain fox) young cultivator.

[larothoughts]

anti-ship adjacent ships: liujiu and qijiu

so there's this weird thing that's happening in svsss of all fandoms that reminds me a lot of voltron's klance and sheith fiasco AKA the formation of what i like to call anti-ship adjacent ships

basically, when someone's favorite ship is more indicative of them being an anti-shipper of another ship.

i've had to start excluding liujiu in my ao3 searches because more often than not, the fics that come up are yqy-bashing and what?? this is svsss, right? mxtx's trashiest, most problematic, harem-bicycle-shen-yuan svsss? what is this moral outrage doing in my degenerate danmei fic space, and why are you mischaracterizing yqy just to make an excuse to hate on him??

i've had a few thoughts on the rising dichotomy of shen jiu sympathizers both validating sj's bad behavior and hating yqy for enabling the same behavior. and then shipping him with lqg because liujiu is 'less toxic.' As an old lady fanfic reader who's trawled through all the godforsaken dead dove ships of the old livejournal kink_meme, i'm writing these out because making sense of things helps me cope and i am too old for this shit

(this is actually more 'why anti-qijiu' word vomit than liujiu specific--it just so happens that so many liujiu fics are bizarrely anti-qijiu.)

narrative reasons for anti-yqy liujiu fic:

aka why an author finds it easier for the plot to bash qi-ge

accepting either romantic or platonic qijiu means trying to fix qijiu. this is hard. yqy and sj already have a proven history of failure, while sj and lqg (aka author's ideal white-knight love interest) would be the perfect do-over. making yqy a clear abusive villain sj must cut off ties with 'for his mental health' solves the problem without having to fix things. it frees the author to write what they thought qi-ge should have done to 'save shen jiu right.'

on the same note, liujiu have nearly no canon crumbs. the author can write them however they want without being constrained by their canon relationship.

why lqg over other possible ships? other than yqy, lqg is one of the few characters with any sort of previous relationship with sj. lqg is canonically hot, has strong (even if negative) feelings towards sj, and has no textual or subtextual canon ship (beyond a one-sided crush on shen yuan, with lbh getting in his way lol.) he is also the same generation as sj and thus avoids any age gap squicks like with sj's other ship partners (looking at you tlj)

yqy is the only person in cang qiong with higher authority than shen jiu. while other peak lords are antagonistic, all are ranked lower and can't get in liujiu's way the same way as yqy can as a sect leader. not even the old palace master has the same power because he's the head of a different sect. so if you really want to write a villain abusing their (implicit) power over shen jiu, yqy is the only one that fits the bill.

lbh, as sj's disciple, does not fit the same abuse of power trope even if he becomes an op demon lord. as for bingjiu, lbh's brand of diabolical stalkerish yandere is so over-the-top it's hard to equate him to any real relationship. it's easier to twist yqy's passivity to villainy because it's closer to reasonable human behavior.

if one is coming from the tgcf fandom, yue qingyuan is the closest junwu-adjacent character in terms of personality and rank (on the surface.) so it's easy to transfer any junwu hate to yqy by giving him all of junwu's worst traits and making him 'junwu-lite'

same thing as above but with mdzs and the lan xichen hate for his inaction regarding his own little meowmeow (jgy).

personal author-reasons for anti-yqy liujiu fic:

aka when the character himself doesn't matter

let's get a silly one out of the way: maybe the author only headcanons top shen jiu and most qijiu has sj being a bottom. lqg gives off better hot twinky bottom energy than submissive-but-still-tops yqy. this does not explain the anti-shipping though.

less silly: an author is projecting either themselves or other people in their real life onto their fic, and changing the character's personalities to match their real life projected counterparts (even if ooc). sj is a clear abuse-survivor insert, which shoe-horns other characters into roles that real people in the author's lives have. i think yqy is often seen as the insert for someone who 'could have helped but didn't.' there are many valid reasons why someone would be more mad at the person who averted their gaze rather than their actual abuser, but that doesn't change the fact that qijiu's relationship in canon is so much more complicated.

(it's easier to hate enablers instead of abusers, because hating abusers and inviting confrontation is dangerous. most of the time, enablers won't hurt you directly. they are the safer person to hate.)

an author thinks they could have saved sj better, that qi-ge had more than enough time to fix things and his failure not to do so must be punished by taking away his sj-simp-card and throwing him into the villain bin. this is similar to the phenomenon where an author hates the wife of canon anime couples b/c the author could clearly wife him better. and then writes a fic bashing said wife.

an author sees a messy relationship and equates messy with abusive. in reality many relationships can be messy but not abusive, messy but still fixable, but due to their personal experiences they see any attempt to do so as toxic. in this scenario yqy is often the abuser-insert and his ooc characterization takes after the author's own abuser.

specifically in fics where lqg has the personality of a cardboard cut-out: using liujiu to tell others they are still pro-ship, when in reality they dislike qijiu for their own reasons (and can't help but write it in their fic). it really reminds me of middle school lol like kids trying to find their identity by hating another identity. the whole 'ew pink is overrated, i hate preps which means i must be a nerdy rebel' and then two years later you realize you're not a nerdy rebel after all, you just based your entire identity on what you thought was the opposite of what you hated.

why i try not to read anti-qijiu liujiu fics:

aka write whatever you want, but sometimes i have to choose not to read

authors can write whatever they want. we're all doing this for free, so it's expected that a lot of fanfic have venting and some self-imposing onto a fictional character. i don't expect authors to NOT put themselves in their fic in some way. at the same time, however, i hope authors are self-aware enough to not bash another character just because that character reminds them of someone irl.

aka i get uncomfortable when i read a fic that has an author's obvious real-person insert. i'm not reading svsss fic anymore, i'm reading the author's version of punishing their abuser using fiction. i love transformative media that adds onto the canon! i love different interpretations even! but i'm here to read svsss? where are the svsss characters??

i'm not into character-bashing in general. i think the point of svsss and all of bingqiu's misunderstandings is the fact that good/evil is not a binary. sy spent the whole series fearing the 'evil' binghe despite the fact that post-abyss binghe was a complex person, causing a chain reaction of disaster. hell, shen jiu is the king of gray characters! he is a scum villain, evil and misunderstood, to be a sj-fan means to understand that no one is entirely good or evil. so it's even more cognitively dissonant when a pro-sj fic is so categorically anti-qijiu, as this often paints sj as good/misunderstood and yqy as bad.

(the only character-bashing i don't care about is the old palace master mxtx clearly wrote him to be bashed so throw him in a fire)

i don't mind liujiu actually, i think the dynamic has potential (see all the sj harem fic i've read lol) but qi-ge is such a big part of sj's character that vilifying/getting rid of him does sj a disservice too? sj has a shit ton of bad coping mechanisms, these aren't going to be magically fixed if yqy gets his limbs chopped off as 'just punishment' (??) for not stopping sj from abusing his own students (????)

in conclusion

there is no point to this rambling, and you don't need to agree with me on anything. these are just thoughts i had when trying to figure out why anti-ship adjacent ships even exist. the moral outrage is giving me war flashbacks of anti-sheith klance fans using their age gap as justification for their own ship, rather than liking klance for... being klance.

(I briefly considered going over all liujiu vs qijiu morality arguments, but if you're an sj fan i feel like morality arguments are pointless. he is an angry feral scum kitten who hits kids, no sj-fan has the moral high ground here.)

it's always unfortunate to see so much anti-shipping spilling into fandom, since by default most of us are living in the fringe minority anyway. further dividing us is just going to sink the whole ocean ala the death of livejournal and chinese ban on ao3. there's no point in ships if there ain't an ocean to sail in! aren't we all here because we are fans of these stories???

bonus

to make up for what must feel like a huge anti liujiu wall of text, here are some of my general thoughts on how their relationship would work. i'm more familiar with sj so most of these are from his pov.

while sj often has schemes upon schemes upon schemes, when it comes to anger/criticism/negativity, he's scathingly honest. lqg, a fellow honest asshole, is often on the same wavelength. once misunderstandings are cleared up and lqg realizes sj will do whatever it takes to protect big bro yqy (and thus the sect), they're able to work together as a ruthless team against cang qiong's enemies.

let's also assume fixing sj's emotional issues stops him from the worst of his scumminess aka whipping his disciples half to death.

teamwork -> enemies to lovers -> only one bed trope???

sj needs someone who will overtly believe in his goodness, and lqg, once he realizes the mistakes in his assumptions, is a loyal wall of support. unlike qi-ge who must always play diplomat, lqg blazes over all social cues. who cares if this looks bad on cang qiong, he'll throw down with anyone if his boo is insulted.

lqg is upfront and honest. there are no hidden plots for sj to be paranoid about in lqg, he's a Good Man through-and-through. if lqg has problems, he'll tell him. if he needs to apologize and sj tells him why, he'll do so. and if sj asks him a question, he'll always do his best to answer.

while lqg knows sj has trauma and a dark past, he will never truly understand what it was like. and that's exactly what sj wants. he likes how lqg knows him more as he is now in the present vs. someone who has lived through the same past. being with him is a reminder that he is now a powerful peak lord, not the starving street rat he once was.

for lqg, sj is like a complex puzzle box. an enigma so outside of his understanding of how the world works, he can't help but be drawn to it. he used to equate scheming with evil, but once he realizes much of sj's scheming was for the good of the sect, he lets himself be impressed by sj's intelligence. the fact that sj became a peak lord from nothing shows a certain type of strength-- and lqg has always appreciated strength.

a big roadblock in their relationship was sj's antagonism towards yqy (their sect leader whom lqg respects.) once qijiu reconcile (or sj stops being so disrespectful to yqy in public) lqg is better able to see him as an ally vs. an enemy.

sj rewards this loyalty by taking care of lqg's hidden enemies, because straightforward brutes are especially susceptible to devious snakes like that. sj would know. whether or not he tells lqg can go either way. he tells lqg if only to stop lqg from hearing it elsewhere and assuming the worst; or he doesn't tell lqg because he knows lqg trusts him and confusing his mind with schemes would just make him grumpy for not understanding.

...even if he's cute when he's grumpy.

[koolades-world]

Hey! I'm sorry if your (inbox, is it called?" Is closed, I just read your little story on how the brothers would react to an MC with a British accent.I was wondering if you could do a reaction to a Puerto Rican MC? Again, I'm sorry if your inbox is closed.

OMG HI inbox is open no worries!

so excited for this!! had to do a double take at first. I'm actually half puerto rican half indian! weird combo i know BUT I absolutely love this request! sometimes it's hard for me to be positive about my background and who I am. usually any mention of my race or ethnicity feels like a knife to the back, but I'm so excited for my chance to be happy about who I am

I know it just came in but as soon as I saw this I knew I had to write it right away! this is something that has every puerto rican gene in my body infused into it and despite being so short, it probably has some of the most love i've probably ever put into a piece of writing

thank you :))) please enjoy

Puerto Rican Mc

Lucifer

at first, it doesn't mean a lot to him since you're not that close yet

but later on, he begins to understand why you're so proud of your background

he totally understands being loud and proud about who you are and not being afraid to shy away from others about it

any demon who comments on this negatively vanishes mysteriously

Mammon

bonding over being poc and being able to share the struggle with each other

you understand each other and he knows what it feel like to look around and realize you're the only poc in the room. you're not alone with him by your side

lots of sweet moments and tears shared together and an inseparable bond

at the end of the day, you have each other <3

Levi

once you get close, he introduces you to all of his favorite puerto rican characters

admires how protective and loyal you are of those you're close to

values you so dearly

he doesn't regret opening up to you because it was the best choice he ever made

Satan

he begins to collect books he'd think you'd like written by puerto rican authors or have puerto rican characters because he knows how excited you'll get

he goes out of his way to introduce you to his favorite puerto rican adjacent restaurant in the devildom

takes you on plenty of trips to the human world to experience home again if you need it or just to eat good food

could listen to you talk for hours about why being puerto rican is great

Asmo

think the fact that you speak spanish (or some) is so hot (a/n: I myself speak very little haha)

immediately asks you to teach him some and to say something that sounds sexy even if it's not actually

gifts you all sorts of things that either have the puerto rican flag or have the same colors as the puerto rican flag, like clothes or little trinkets

acts as your personal cheerleader whenever you need it

Beel

loves the culinary journey you take him on through your culture

he especially loves coquito and limber (a/n: my personal favs)

asks you to teach him how to make several puerto rican dishes that practically makes your heart explode with joy

he knows food is always a huge part of the culture and in honored you showed him all the ins and outs

Belphie

likes to poke fun at you from time to time to see how defensive you'll get

you poke fun at him right back with lots of cow jokes

you two playfight a lot, usually with you being victorious maybe because he let you

however, there's always room for you under his covers where ever he might be

[chuckeroo777]

Dungeon Meshi Volume 13 Part 2

Welcome back! Things are about to get crazy, so let's dive right in!

Is it any wonder the community unanimously decided this was Marcille's chimera-sona? She's cute, she's sky-fish adjacent, she has a flower crown (A hallmark of only the most mentally stable characters). What's not to love? And as Mithrun will agree, snake women are sexy.

Later, Kabru suspects Laios stumbled into saving the world, but my man was seriously planning six steps ahead. He came up with the ultimate plan to kill the ultimate monster.

Marcille is understandably upset that the lion stole her cool outfit. She wanted to show that to Falin later!

Nothing personal kid.

The demon isn't malevolent my ass. It knows what Mithrun wants. It just can't be assed to bother.

I know the right page is the important one, but oh my god. Laios, did you seriously doodle blueprints of your stupid "Falin lives in a hole now" plan? Did you seriously doodle your "female faligon" idea?

Anyway, as is tradition with ultimate chimera appearances, here is another one of my creatures!

I'll leave it to the viewer to try and figure out what inspired this freak.

Of course Laios' takeaway from the succubus was that Scyllas are cool. Fun fact, some of these details are actually relevant. The ability to change shape is apparently how he managed to return to human form, and the poop thing explains why New Melini is forested despite being underwater for 1000 years.

Marcille isn't even surprised at this point. Just deeply disappointed.

Toshiro, why are you smiling? Kabru, that looks more like awe than fear.

Bitch, I'm fabulous.

Marcille, you're the one who created the monster that vores people, that's it's whole job.

Don't worry Marcille. This disaster is due to an incredibly complex confluence of unpredictable events. In other words, it's everybody's fault! Hooray!

God, this is so funny.

Leave my boy alone! At least we can all agree the collar is cool.

Oh, that's a neat detail. Time is stopped for all the humans, but the monsters can still move.

When I first read this, I thought the plan was that now that the lion is in a finite body, we can eat it. Like, I thought that was how it was going to end as soon as they swapped. But Laios is way ahead of me.

Good to see the rest of the party came to the same conclusion I did. And Marcille's eyes are still on the prize.

Famous last words.

Rude.

Yeah, but we're expressing a desire regarding his treatment you raging douche-muffin. You're freaking infinite. We've seen you have the power to pacify monsters peacefully.

It's so fitting, that Laios, our favorite dog, saved the world by eating something he really shouldn't have.

👏Full Circle!👏

Oh Marcille. I'd have thought you'd have learned by now to have a little more faith in your brother-in-law.

Ah, dungeon food. To eat is the privilege of the living. There is no hierarchy.

That sounds like the words of a loser to me.

And that's it for volume 13! Didn't have as much to say as I thought I might. Guess this climax speaks for itself. What a powerful and thematic ending to the demon. See why I'm having trouble figuring out what direction to take my AU? Figuring out the changes to monster of the week chapters is easy. Figuring out how to do the big thematic battles against Thistle and the Demon are hard. It's hard to imagine anyone but Laios prevailing against such opponents.

Anyway, see you next time for the finale! Here, have a couple of extra Marcilles. I thought I would need more of them.

Cannibalism?

A precious image.

[sloppyneedybmxboy]

why supernatural 4x16 is the best episode (so farrr in my rewatch)

sickly&tired, pale looking cas concerned and covered in raindrops at the beginning "goodbye sister", he looks heavy, i feel so sorry for him

dean "im tired of burying friends sam" he's so done with angels and demons and walking into yet another crappy motel they'll have to leave in the morning someone needs to give this man a break! someone give him a break!

"cas you remember pamela right? you burned her eyes out?" cas looking horrified and concerned 4 dean's sake is so sweet like my human seems to be having a mental break down ….. what do I do in this situation …. dean … dean please …..

HE LOOKS SO TORN between his duty as an angel and dean winchester oh my god I forgot the homosexuality of this show truly it's rewiring my synpases

everytime cas and dean speak or even look at each other or are in the same room there's like there's this unspoken push and pull going on between them with cas torn between his father/faith and .. homosexuality and dean torn between obeying the angels aka being daddy's good little soldier again/breaking free like a spooked wild HORSE

Like dean is noting that cas has been demoted/punished/answers to uriel now and of course he is, he's daddy's perfect little soldier hasn't he had this all so deeply ingrained in him since he was just a child, he sees cas being put down and he doesn't like it one bit u can see him champing the bit and looking concerned for cas. Like even though dean outwardly is pissed off by cas' inconsistency and lack of answers and um soldier-like mentality at this point in their story and is quite often hostile adjacent towards him, you can tell he has a soft spot for cas already and is like eyeing him up like bbz you ok, bbz who got you down. bbz do you need me to step in and save u

like you have cas' struggle with faith, cas having been punished for his developing feelings for dean, cas taking orders (sexy), dean angsting, dean having to torture his torture-daddy from hell, deans daddy issues and machismo exposed, the beginning whispers of cas' fall from heaven foreshadowed because of all the sillly obsessed feelings he's started to develop towards an actual human, all the intricate power struggles going on in this episode and it's so cas centred that it's really sexy and hot. so much angst. cas hasn't had a feeling in millions of years and now he's starting to feel and he's terrified

ahh what I find so hot and gleeful is how you can see dean absorbing the whole situation. and castiel's position. castiel compromised in his position (as an angel and a soldier of god) because of his feelings for DEAN WINCHESTER. everytime the angels are in the room (ie uriel and cas, and sam and dean) there's this power struggle going on between the secret intimacy/sleep paralysis demon/night visits weird boy bestfriends shit those two got going on between them contrasted with cas' position as an actual ANGEL and it's like deans seeming him erring and questioning his orders and having DOUBTS and he's absorbing it ALL and it's like a blast from the past in a way for dean because wasn't god and castiel like him and John? didn't he follow daddy's every order without a thought of his own? didn't he try so hard to bend himself into whatever shape john needed him to be? and he can see castiel going thru the same motions and having the same problems and deans like how can I exploit this situation. and make you my boyfriend at the same time.

"you can't ask me to do this cas. not this" UHHHHMMMMMM the hitch in his voice, the rage in his eyes, the angstttt. his trust in cas hurting dean so bad. he would do a lot for castiel already and they've only met 7 times. but not this. this is too far. the sexiness of saying no to the angel that pulled you out of hell idk

the framing of the shots between them and when they are both in frame is really interesting too, like cas positioned just behind dean, almost like he's sitting on his shoulder or whispering into his ear, positioning cas as his guide, his confidante,

they're still figuring out the dynamic between the two, who calls the shots, he orders who around, who can say no and when

"you can't make me do this" dean saying NO to heaven the loudest he ever has . why should he retraumatise himself for heaven. why should he step into that room. dean ANGST

something like a plea in castiel's eyes the whole episode, torn between his orders and his feelings for dean, hesitant about the whole thing like no he doesn't want his poor human going in there and torturing alistair actually because it will put him in harms way and the lack of agency cas has over their orders now and the struggle ooo the struggle ! "this is too much to ask. I know. but we have to ask it" AND THEN LOOKING SO FRIGHTENED, looking frightened that they have to ask it. I castiel have to ask this of you, not because I want to but because I've been ordered to by my father god and I have never questioned him not once in millions of years. And now you. And now this. And now this opening to fear, doubt

and DEAN seeing through the facade and being like. I need to talk to castiel alone actually. like he's confused and he can't completely read cas but he sees that he's frightened, like his angel is actually frightened by what he's been asked to do and he can recognise that

as soon as uriel leaves and its just the two of them alone dean is completely different with cas, so much more personal

"uriels the funniest angel in the garrison. ask anyone" dean looking like he's reconsidering all his feelings for cas like why this angel . why him. jesus christ

his slutty little walk up to castiel why does he always do that flirty walk towards him! what hte fuck is up with that!

I think cas is pleasantly surprised at how quickly dean can see through the shitshow that is going on in heaven (and also himself) rn, like oh. yes. I chose him for a reason. He's shocked that dean has seen thru him just like cas has seen right through dean's facade in the past, but also proud. "Since when does Uriel put a leash on you?" OKKKKK PUPPY CAS

"My superiors have begun to question my sympathies - I was getting too close to the humans in my charge" looks down, looks up "- you." SCREAMINGGGG why does he say it like that? only he could say it like that I swear tofuck. dean not quite believing his ears or knowing what to make of it all. he's looking at cas' lips AGAIN and seems amused for the first time the whole episode. Personally I think he's blushing inside.

is this the moment when dean starts to accept that he will torture alistair? he seems to start softening from this convo with cas onwards, is he doing this FOR cas????! does he think it will help cas? or is he just like buttered up by this whole speech because tbh it is really so sweet it hurts and I think the autistic rizz is really starting to work its wonders on him . like how many times has dean been told that someone cares about him without an ulterior motive (maybe just by sam, and even then)? cas has no ulterior motive, no manipulation under what he's saying, he's just saying it bluntly like. yeah. they've begun to have doubts about me in general even though I've been in this position since the beginning of creation and whatnot. because I have begun to develop feelings for the first time ever. for YOU specifically. HELLO????? Who wouldn't be charmed by that? Oh dean u eternal 14 year old who just wants someone to love him

I think he's too scared it might disappear or not turn out to be true so he doesn't push it, he just absorbs everything cas is saying and is like. ok, time to cover that one moment of exposed vulnerability back up with XTRA machismo now.oh dean.

"You ask me to walk through that door and do this, you will not like who walks back out" "For what it's worth, I would give anything not to have you do this". CUT TO DEAN CLOSING HIS EYES. TAKING IT IN. UGHH

ok so why was this whole scene like so sweet and angsty. gosh these two. dean knows now that he's cared for, and by all people, an ANGEL. his angel, the one who pulled him out of hell and who has seen right through his facade since the very beginning. and in the same moment that care does come with a price, whether cas means it to or not, because in accepting cas' care he also has to accept what cas wants him to do, right?? right? I feel like love for dean has always come with price, could he ever get any care from john without having to sacrifice ridiculous things to earn it? so it hurts because. Dean you should really say no to this actually. You should trust your gut. But he trusts castiel instead and it hurtsssss. Because cas doesn't know any better at this point, and hasn't started to act for himself. I think it would've benefited castiel too if dean had said NO WAY because cas doesn't want this to happen either, he senses it is all wrong, and in the end we find out the orders were made up by uriel or whatever so weren't even legit orders from heaven. idk its all a mess up there rn. oh baby dean. oh baby cas. dean sees love as coming with the price of pain cut to roman roy having his stitches burst open by kendall when they hug each other so its totally natural he would accept that he has to torture alistair now after cas reveals his emotions? for dean? JESUS

castiel (Angel of the lord) (didn't feel anything for 4 billion years) (feels things now)

castiel this whole ep is just like 🕴️ dean … I am conflicted ….

anna has cas' feelings for dean so clocked she's just like "cas baby, the father you love would never ask this if YOU specifically" specifically you. he would never put u through watching the man u have feelings for hurting like this! Cas is just like .. oh….

cas closing his eyes because he can hear alistair screaming and he knows dean is hurting and he cant take it my poor baby

cas looking like a lost little boy in his sad man trenchcoat. there's something so fragile about him this episode

bloody resigned dean getting beaten within an inch of is life by alistair is so inexplicably hot

YES castiel stepping in and saving him just in time, his dean's in danger radar was going off!

cas' little cunty walk in the hospital when he's talking to sam lmao he's so overdramatic no one's doing it like him

cas realising the whole thing was POINTLESS & the fact that dean of all people was so endangered by his 'orders' …. he's having feelings ….. waging a war against god in his head …. oh poor cas

cas being like 🧎 ANNA? ANNA!!! HELP "I'm considering -disobedience" hahahahaha

I don't think even cas knows exactly what he feels, just that he does feel and it terrifies him

YES anna my queen, force him to think for himself for once YESSS

Uriel made such a huge mistake when he told cas his plan was for alistair to escape and KILL dean like that's cas' baby. That was the last straw for cas I think this episode no wonder he went at uriel like that

BLOODY CAS ON HIS KNEES BLOODY CAS ON HIS KNEES. DONT YOU UNDERSTAND?

Anna's so iconic for killing Uriel when he says there's no god left and saying "maybe. maybe not. but there's still ME" such a queen

CASTIEL AT DEANS BEDSIDE OH LORD. "Are you alright?" He cares so deeply. "No thanks to you", he feels the weight of letting Dean down so heavily on his shouldersss. Why does Cas tell him he needs to be more careful here, I never really got that? What's he trying to warn him about?

Dean asking Cas if it's true what alistair said, was dean responsible for breaking the first seal, and Cas saying yes and dean breaking down and Cas looking upwards because god help him what can he say to this man he feels so strongly about who is so broken and beat up and tired. yes, you started the apocalypse dean. he just looks so regretful that this ever happened to him, that he was too late to save dean, he looks repentent for so much that he's got wrong this ep at the cost of dean. oh cas. oh cas. you can tell her bares the weight of being too late to save dean on his shoulders.

Cas telling dean he is also the one who will be responsabile for stopping the apocalypse like leave this damn man alone he has enough on his plate. "Don't you go disappearing on me you son of a bitch, what does that mean?" dean still sounding like he's going to SOB and telling cas dont u dare abandon me you bitch

"I can't do it Cas, it's too big" Cas chewing his lip and looking so upset that dean has to take this all on himself like yes, it is too much, he knows it

"I'm not strong enough" whispering it his voice breaking oh my god dean :( Cas looking at him with such concern it's making my heart hurt ache. Dean looking away as he cries because he can't bare to show weakness infront of another man even his angel

"I guess I'm not the man either of our dads wanted me to be" IT HURTS BECAUSE he believes he's letting castiel down somehow in this moment by not being strong enough but castiel also believes he's letting dean down by placing this burden on him when's he's clearly broken THEY BOTH THINK THEY'RE LETTING THE OTHER ONE DOWN (miscommunication between super masc human and autistic angel)

dean thinks he has to WORK to be worthy of Cas, worthy of love and care, and he can't work right now, he's too beat up and tired and he's in hospital and he can't move and he's worn down, he can't take anymore, and that is so deeply shameful to him. He hates to feel helpless but it's all he's ever felt. Little does he know cas is head over heels for him anyway and doesn't give af what he can or can't do.

[dextixer]

What Vtuber Ruby and Miles cameos say, matter (kinda).

So, a day or so ago we have had people discuss about Rubys Vtubing appearances and the things she has said on video. People have had mixed opinions on what was said, some people think its not a problem, others think its a problem, some others dont care. So, i wanted to chime in on this entire discussion and why in my opinion this, and the cameos that Miles makes matter and are not "irrelevant".

Disclaimer

Before i start, i will note. I dont really think that these things are HUGE problems and "OH NO, THIS RUINS THE SHOW" or any other nonsense. Some people have seen these things way too negatively. But i also think that people who say that it doesnt matter at all are taking 2 way too extreme positions.

Lore Swiss Cheese

One of the main problems of RWBY has, for a long time, been the very vague concepts of what is canon and the in-show lore. From the very start of the show, it had commentary tracks, the creators talking about the show etc. Despite not being in the show itself, we have had many tidbits of information (such as Rubys favourite food) and the like given to us in outside of canon content. And it has not just been some minor things either. Ironwoods semblance basically does not exist in the show, and yet it seems to exist in lore, and it was shared with us from outside the show.

And later on, after V3, RWBY has received a lot of different media that expands on its lore and are considered canonical, despite sometimes never appearing on the show, or even creating very weird situations where something is conspicuous by absence in the show itself. For example, we have a very often discussed topics of V7-8 of the defense of Mantle/Atlas. One of the discussion points have always been how weirdly weak the defenses of the kingdom are. While one could chalk that up to people having an "inflated" view of Atlas military, but we have been canonically told and shown a lot of Atlas tech that is conspicuous by absence in the show.

Automated turrets, different versions of Atlesian Knights etc, which were said to be canonical in Amity:Arena. Or for example stealth tech. Yea, Atlas has stealth tech, like, genuine stealth. Its in one of the books. And yet nowhere in the show.

We have two canonical games, Grimm Eclipse and Arrowfell, with characters and concepts in them that have never been seen in the show. Has anyone ever seen team BRIR in the show? Heard of them? Maybe the tech from Arrowfell would kinda be useful, even if outdated against the Grimm invasion? What about the outlying Atlesian villages? Are they just dead at this point? Where the heck is Thornmane? He gets captured and hes nowhere in jail even as a cameo? And why does noone talk about Grimm Eclipse? Tech enchanced Grimm seem like a bit of a topic that kinda should be discussed sometime, no!?

We also have the comic books with various questionable canonical decisions including Raven turning into a bird to fuck with child Ruby. Blakes involvement with Adam which is somewhat weird because the comic books try to humanize Adam while the show demonizes him.

And let us not forget the whole "Canon Adjacent" nonsense where RT cant even come out and say that its obviously non-canon stories like Ice Queendom and even crossovers with DC are not canon. They cant even come out and say that!

Oh, and of course, i just remembered, the Grimm DnD campaign which is also apparently canon!

The reason i am listing all of these summarized versions of the multiple lore issues that the show has is that the lore of RWBY, is swiss cheese. It has lore that is given partially in so many different places, including in out of universe that its almost impposible to follow it properly, and if you do try, you are only going to get more confused because the main show feels like completely separate from it all, despite being in the same lore.

Vtubing and Cameos matter

And this brings me to of course the very simple claim, that due to the fact that the lore is already swiss cheese, these statements made in Vtubing and Cameos actually matter. Because even if they are not stated to be directly canonical, the lore is already so incredibly fucked and unclear (To the point that some people cant even decide if DC RWBY comics are even canon or not!) that adding these examples to the mix? Its just bad practice. Because at the end of the day, Vtubing Ruby, IS Ruby. She is played as in-universe Ruby, by the same Voice Actress, hosted by the SAME company.

And it matters especially because these things DO affect the FNDM. People who say that these things should be easily ignored are missing one key aspect. A lot of the FNDM are affected by these. BB being a key example. No, im not going to argue that the FNDM forced RT to make it canon. What i WILL argue is that the toxicity of BB community and its rabidness was intentionally cultivated AND enabled by RT. Does it matter that the BB song is not canon? No, it did not. Its not canon in the show and yet it made pro-BB and anti-BB crowds hysterical. Same for the song that was made for Blacksun. These songs directly contributed to the shipping wars. The various moments of people like Barbara also indulging the shippers just further fueled that entire movement.

Hell, the same can be said for Qrow x Winter shippers. While it was never a big thing one of the main "fuels" it had for a long time was because Vic and the VA for Winter interacted in a single panel. Or lets remember the whole "Vibrator function" which is OBVIOUSLY not canon, yet has become a part of often referenced and established fanon.

RWBY does not have a stable FNDM, i know, im a part of it. It does not matter if something is or is not canonical when not only are the lines of canon/noncanon blurred to barely existing, but the FNDM can often take things very far to fuel their expectations, wishes, and behaviour.

Especially when it can fuel what i will refer to as simply exploitative behaviour.

Cameos. Cameos, in my opinion are a fine way for VA's to make money. Such as many other things like, for example, music producers reviewing songs, voice coaches evaluating singing etc. Such content has cropped up maybe 4-5 years ago now and imo, is a fine thing.

But like any thing, imo, there are good and bad ways to do this kind of content. When for 40 bucks, one can ask one of the main WRITERS of the show questions about the shows world and opinions about things like ships. That is, imo, a bit far. Not only does that give an incentive for people to pay money for extra snippets of lore, but also, a way for people to validate their beliefs of ships and other such things. Because that is what his Cameo is all about. Its not VA work, its his words, in relation to his work as a writer for the show. And considering the earliest cameos and Ironwood discussions, that in my opnion is NOT a good thing.

The BB Onlyfans thing is ALSO an example of that, that i think was bad. Once again, disclaimer. I think that OF is fine, you want to do it? Go ahead, i paid for Markipliers photos, i aint ashamed, hes hot. I think it becomes at least slightly concerning however, when the VA's of a controversial ship decide to do an underwear photoshoot together with the same theme as their character in-show relationship.

Because...

Parasociality

A parasocial relationship is feeling a connection with a persona/thing that does not know of your existance or only humours you. Celebrities, sports teams etc.

RT has, for a long time cultivated a STRONG parasocial relationship with the FNDM. There is a reason why they pretend to be down to earth, why they pretend that they are not a corporation and why even to this day, some RT fans STILL believe that RT is some kind of "indie company". There is nothing inherently wrong with having it. Its kind of even unavoidable.

But what RT does is Cynically abuse that relationship. Just like any other corporation. Overworking animators for example? Part of that has been parasociality, people willing to work for their "loved" company etc.

Things like Miles Cameo, the BB photoshoot? The Vtuber Ruby? They are meant to encourage parasociality. To make it seem like the people, the watchers are "closer" to people performing or related to the show. Its all a cynical ploy to get people to pay money, to watch RWBY etc.

There is a reason why even after the RT expose not too long ago, people just went ahead and forgot about it. There is a reason why RWBYTubers that have previously condemned RT for their BS are now shouting at people to support RWBY, supressing those who criticized V9 and are encouraging people to buy merch.

Its all parasocial BS. BS that leads to extreme behaviours.

Such as, but not limited to - Biphobia, Homophobia, calling people facists for liking characters, calling people abuse apologist, groomers, Stalking. Just to name a few.

Also... On an ending note

Its just shit Vtubing

Consider this an unrelated tangent. I watch Vtubers relatively often, usually clips but sometimes i catch streams. Vtuber lore is usually irrelevant even in corporate settings. What people come to watch are the streamers themselves who usually partially play a character but mostly just act like themselves. Not really being lore accurate is not really of importance.

The thing is, those Vtubers usually dont have really established settings and they stream Multiple hours a day, so it all makes sense.

Why in the fuck is the Vtuber Ruby Rose, not acting like Remnant Ruby Rose!? Im not expecting deep lore drops here. But for crying out loud, why make statements that Rabbits or magic dont exist? Ruby Rose being visiting Earth is an AMAZING roleplaying set-up!

There is no dust, no aura, no Grimm! So many differences between the worlds that Ruby Rose can notice and act out! "Oh anime? We have our own version of that! One of the most watched shows is Sailor Sun! (Because the moon is broken)".

Its just a concept that can pay-off so much! Its an isekai in Vtubing form! As far as im aware Vtuber Ruby Rose doesnt even stream daily so its even easier to stay in character! So why in the bloody hell are we getting Dora of Explorer levels of childishness?

Anyway... Here are my thoughts. Peace out.

[ysabelmystic]

PLEASE tell us about the shadow boi

Thank you to the at least four people who humored me on this one.

(Using it/he pronouns for the shadow in a gender neutral way)

This took place during my freshman year of high school. I was living in a newly built tract home at the time. This is the last place you'd expect a haunting to occur, but in my experience, California is funny like that. Despite the southern US seeming far more likely to actually be haunted, most of my and my family's experiences have all taken place within the California central valley. This was just the craziest and most undeniable of those experiences.

One morning around the start of the school year, I woke up at exactly 4:15am. My alarm wasn't due to go off until 5:30. Catercorner from my bed was a tall, vaguely human-shaped shadow. And by shadow I mean a dark blob that hovered in the corner rather than being attached to the wall.

Now, this was almost immediately at the start of my Exvangelical era. My parents and I were wading into deep edgy atheist territory. "Facts and logic" and all that. Instead of freaking out, I decided that I was probably hallucinating and went back to sleep. After getting home from school, I rearranged some of my furniture and put my violin stand (I was forced to play against my will but I digress...) in the shadow's corner.

This did not work, because the next morning, at exactly 4:15am, I woke up to the same shadowy blob in the corner, now covering my violin stand. This time, I turned on my phone light and shined it in the corner. The shadow didn't disappear like a normal shadow would. Instead, it seemed to rapidly melt into the adjacent closet.

I might've been an "atheist", but I couldn't completely commit myself to the idea that the supernatural was a creation of human ignorance and imagination. What I was committed to was the belief that the vast majority of "evil" and "demonic" beings were deeply misjudged and at worst just needed a friend. I did some research on shadowy beings and creatures, and found that this thing most resembled "the hat man" (despite being hatless). And since "the hat man" was "evil", surely, it either neutral or friendly. I would treat this thing with respect, and if it was just a hallucination, then wasn't it better to make friends with my hallucinations instead of demonizing them?

This was my train of thought for the next several days, as every other day or so, I was woken up at a 15 minute increment between 3:45am and 5:00am to this shadow in my room. Usually, it was in the corner, but some days it edged closer and closer to the center of the room.

About a month in, one morning, I woke up to the feeling of pressure on my legs. The shadow wasn't in the corner, but at the foot of my bed was the obvious indent in my mattress that could only come from a person sitting there.

Instead of panicking (probably because I was fucking tired), I said something along the lines of, "I don't care if you're in my room, but you have to stay in the corner".

The indent vanished and the pressure disappeared.

Nothing notable would happen for the rest of the school year. As annoyed as I was to be woken up early, in some ways, I started to appreciate the shadow in the corner. I would say good morning to him or gripe about being woken up early. I asked it for its name a few times, but I never got anything. He was just a nameless entity who lived in the corner of my room.

Sometime around February, I went off of my mood stabilizers cold-turkey. I didn't sleep for three days, and when I finally did start sleeping again, I was afraid that the change in my brain chemistry would mean that I'd never see the shadow again, and when I did, I told him that I missed him. The fact that nothing changed in the pattern of appearances is part of what convinced me that it was real.

The final time I saw it though, things changed.

It was either late May or early June. My family was about to move, and it was my final night in the house. The only things in my room were my mattress and blankets, my art desk, a couple of art supplies, and a wooden stick in my windowsill that kept it from being opened. And that final night, I said something to the effect of, "You're free now. Have fun haunting the new family," and went to sleep.

I woke up at exactly 6am. There was no shadow in my room. Instead, what I saw was the stick in my windowsill levitating in the air. It lingered for a few seconds and then fell to the ground. My window slid open, and the bag of colored pencils in the middle of my desk was knocked to the floor.

I was a little shaken, but I was more exhausted and in total disbelief than anything else, so I went back to sleep.

Later that morning, I woke up to my mom opening my door and scolding me for not being awake and for opening the window when it was so damn hot outside. The stick and pencils were also still on the floor. I asked if she had opened it, and she said that she absolutely had not.

I have no other explanation other than that it was the shadow, and that I had somehow set it free. When we moved across the country, I was actually upset with myself that I hadn't invited him along, and tried a few [failed] demon-summonings to see if I could fill the void. I don't know where he come from or why he was there, but it happened. It was weird, but given that I never felt outright afraid (and with some entities, I have), I assume he was friendly. Given that I spent most of that year being actively suicidal, he was one of the few things that brought me any joy, and was probably one of the reasons that I bothered staying alive at all. Regardless of who it was or what he was, I hope that he's dong okay.

But yeah. That's the shadow boi, and he is my number 1 reason as to why I believe in ghosts.

[parttimepuff]

(kxllerclaws)

[ You are by far one of the most confounding creatures I am required to examine for my cause. ]

Hello, Gremlin. You good? Because there was a strange voice speaking to you out of nowhere, with no source in sight. Strangely, it sounded unstable, phasing at different frequencies. Why would be anyone’s guess, but it would be difficult to pinpoint what exactly it was supposed to sound like normally because of this.

[ To deliberately disregard your own moral code for the sake of camaraderie is absurd. If you truly detested the slaughtering of the living, you would not associate yourself with one who so revels in the act. ] Vague as it was being, there was only one person it could have been referring to. Who else was the fear demon close to who committed homicide on the regular?

[ Respecting him will not prevent the inevitable. One mere mishap and he shall betray you, unable to distinguish friend from foe under a beastly haze. ] Whether or not Gremlin noticed it, the temperature significantly dropped. [ I would suggest reevaluating who you trust. Time can only do so much to secure your safety. ]

The atmosphere began to ease. [ And if you insist on remaining at his side, warnings notwithstanding… so be it. You were never a threat to begin with. ]

A single rumble shook the area, and as it died down, so did the voice, invading no longer.

Ah, there you are. Honestly, at first, Gremlin assumed that one of the anons was doing some kind of bit. He rolled his eyes, turning around to face the voice, only to find no one there. It took him a moment to register that the voice was only in his head, which was unsettling when it wasn't his niece or nibling. The voice was very horror movie adjacent. Well, it was that time of year.

Before he could say anything, the voice dug into him. Frankly, they could be talking about a handful of people he knew, but he had a pretty damn good guess as to who it meant. A scowl formed on his face. "He doesn't revel in it. He doesn't have a choice." Gremlin argued, not sure where to aim his glare with no one around. Did the fact that Chimizo had to kill to survive bother him? Obviously. It was why he'd hated him initially. The situation was a hell of a lot more complex than the stupid voice made it out to be.

They were talking about his 'auto-pilot'. Did they assume he didn't know about it? It was how he'd met him. "That's not gonna happen. He's careful about it." Gremlin defended, balling his fists. It wasn't as though he'd forgotten what his friend's body on its own was capable of, but... Chimizo was smart. He made extra sure he wouldn't lose control like that. And if he did... It wasn't going to happen again. His lack of feeling made the temperature drop hard to notice and he was too angry with the accusations to make any note of it.

A part of him wanted to shout back that he didn't want to be a threat, he'd been working really hard to be less of one. But he would rather this smug prick be scared of him. "Do you really think you can make me turn on him like that?? Where the hell are you, you slimy-" Gremlin paused at the rumble and the eerie silence that followed. Was that an earthquake?? He wasn't on the ground, so he couldn't really tell. Somehow, the voice seemed to be gone with it.

"...what the hell was that about?" The Dream Demon muttered to himself. Had that ominous voice seen so little of their friendship that it didn't make sense that he'd like him? Why did it know any of that? He'd already gone over all his feelings about Chimizo and had come to terms with things before he even knew he and Charles were the same person. The voice was years too late to change his mind now.

To him, he and Chimizo were very alike. Human, but not human. Forced to survive by hurting others. Yes, his way of survival was more extreme, but he had no alternatives. Stopping just meant going out of control. Gremlin didn't have to like it and he was positive that Chimizo didn't, either. No one could force a wedge into their friendship by bringing all that up again.

Gremlin huffed, his anger dissipating. After a moment, something occurred to him. He whipped out his cellphone, scrolling for a moment before landing on the right contact.

'Hey, Chimizo. Listen, do you have some time to talk? I got a really weird visitor who doesn't seem to like you.' Aaand send.

[orbital-inclination]

Hello, what is the story of molten dreamtale?

Ok so, answering this took a lot of words.  So I've hidden the great wall of text under the cut! I apologize in advance for the sheer length. 

Molten!Dreamtale Summarized:

The Story of Molten!Dreamtale begins similarly to Dreamtale with a slight twist. Instead of one of the Negative Apples being corrupted, the positive side of the tree is cursed. (the events leading to this will be expanded on at a later date.) Dream and Nightmare’s childhood follows the events of Dreamtale closely. Dream’s kindness is taken advantage of while Nightmare is relentlessly bullied and shunned by the village. Gradually, Dream finds it harder to say no to what is asked of him. He spends less and less time guarding the tree with his brother. They grow distant and frustrated with each other. 

One day, while Dream is sent away on an errand outside the villager, a group of humans and monsters approach the tree and demand apples from it. Their village had been suffering from a drought for months, and the Tree of Emotions, sacred as it may be, was the only thing bearing fruit. When Nightmare refuses, they turn violent.

To defend himself and the tree, Nightmare consumes one black apple but in the end he’s not able to protect himself in time. Dream returns just in time to take a blow that would have severely injured his brother. Barely clinging to consciousness, Dream bites into a golden apple for the same reason his brother had, unaware that side of the tree had been infected by a curse born of greed. The act of consuming the apple brands the curse onto Dream’s soul. He consumes more than one after that, unable to stop himself.

The bulk of the Story takes place centuries later, as Nightmare and Dream travel from au to au. Driven by guilt and a sense of responsibility, Nightmare is determined to find a way to get rid of the goop that Dream is covered in. Dream struggles with and attempts to hide his own demons. In the meantime, the pair work to archive balance in a multiverse that is over-saturated with positivity. The brothers are often viewed with ambivalence and sometimes outright hostility, both by the inhabitants of local AUs and sometimes by fellow outcodes.

Morality:

I know I’ve answered this before and I can’t find the post rn but I would define Molt as somewhere on the chaotic good-to-neutral scale. He will not hurt you unless he believes he has good reason to. (which is a rare situation. he will only do so as a last resort.) and when given the choice, he will pick the option he believes will benefit the most people in the long run. A more specific line of questioning would be: 

“Does he have bad intentions?” No. “Will his actions occasionally cause conflict for others?” Yes. “Can Molt be viewed as the antagonist in someone else’s story?” Yes. “Can Molt also be viewed as heroic though? Isn't he a good guy in this AU?” Of course! It all depends on your perspective, but again, I consider Molt to be much closer to the Good side of the spectrum than Evil.

Keep in mind too, that like his counterpart, Molt can feel what you're feeling. It’s in his best interest to keep his company content. He has the power set of a temptress without the motivation behind it. He does not WANT you to fall victim to your vices but believes you will if he sticks around for too long.

But he is more selfish than canonical!Dream. His priorities are as follows: his brother’s extended family, himself, and the multiverse last. In his mind, the last dark apple is perfectly safe where it is. It's the rest of the multiverse that has problems.

On the Subject of Endings:

I don’t have a set of endings in mind right now. I’m still in the “build-up, flesh out, play around and find out” phase of the creative process but for the sake of this ask, I will throw a tart at the wall to give you an idea of what these endings could potentially look like. Consider these, dubiously canon, or canon adjacent.

Bad Ending 1: Consumed by the weight of corruption in the multiverse, Molt becomes delusional and loses his sense of self. He fatally wounds his brother during a heated argument (read: battle.) Once Molt comes back to himself and realizes what he’s done, he’s inconsolable. He refuses to take the dark apple for himself (and thus refuses to assume guardianship of both dark and light). Instead, he plants it in a desolate AU where he tasks the remaining “bad sanses” with guarding it. 

Killer leaves the group and refuses to associate with Molt again.

Molt never forgives himself. 

Bad Ending 2: Plays out like the first bad ending, but it’s Rem who fatally wounds his brother. Rem assumes guardianship of both aspects and plants the last golden apple in the courtyard of the AU he’s chosen to reside in. He carefully monitors the sapling and hopes that one day, Molt might reform under it. He waits for a long, long time.

Cross and Blue leave the group. They don’t come back.

Bad Ending 3: Ink teams up with Error to stop Molt for good. Molt is defeated, unable to defend himself against Ink and Error combined. Ink gives the last golden apple to Error to hold. He trusts no one else with it. Rem swears revenge.

Neutral Ending 1: Balance is achieved at a great cost. Molt’s body is shattered by a powerful enemy, but as a piece of him remains, he lives trapped in a state of limbo. His slayer traps his soul in a lantern and keeps it in a hidden place. Molt sleeps eternally. Aware, yet not aware of time passing.

Rem never gives up searching for him. 

Bad Ending 4: Neutral Ending 1, but Rem is shattered instead. Molt has better luck finding his brother’s trapped soul. Overcome by the selfish desire to see those responsible suffer, he encourages them to fall victim to their own vices, one by one. 

When Rem reforms, he almost doesn’t recognize his brother, so twisted Molt’s heart has become.

This is the closest we will get to an “Evil Molten!Dream”

Good Ending 1: Molt and Rem are able to achieve perfect balance in the multiverse. As a result, Molt regains his sight but is never cured of the goop. He learns to control it and he is happy. Rem decides to build his own library. Good Ending 2: Molt and Rem are able to achieve perfect balance in the multiverse. A cure for the goop is found at a price: Molt will never regain his sight. The brothers find peace and Molt takes up baking as a hobby.

Secret Comedic Ending: Rem dies so Molt begs Error for help. Error pulls a few strings and teams up with Geno to tag team Reaper. Paralyzed by the Bad Bitch Energy TM of Geno and Error combined, Reaper is helplessly unaware of the theft taking place. It’s only after Molt has successfully stolen back his brother’s soul and revived him, that Reaper realizes he’s been had but by then it’s too late. In a scene straight out of Mean Girls, Geno and Error mock him into submission while the brothers make their escape.

[isbergillustration]

Inktober day 13: Follow up to this post.

It glows faintly in the dark. Several of its eyes blink, a continuous flowing motion that makes him oddly seasick. It looms. It’s quite good at looming, his angel. Well, angel adjacent. Right now it’s acting more like a sleep paralysis demon. He would call it a ghost if it were not so very obvious that this creature was never human. It is a person, though. Has to be, even if every word it says sounds more like rehearsed parroted lines than actual organic responses to what he says to it.

“What?” he demands.

DANGER

“Is it,” he replies flatly, and yawns.

Only slivers of orange light from the street creep in between the curtain edges. His alarm clock tells him it’s just past one in the morning.

DANGER

Exact same tone, exact same everything. Like a recording. Its hands, dark and skeletal, twist uncomfortably. It gets these strange human moments, sometimes. He finds himself resenting its presence. It has become such a large part, literally and otherwise, of his life, and there is no one he can tell without sounding like a lunatic. For ages he thought it might be a hallucination or prolonged delusion of some kind, but it showed up in a photo, and apparently hallucinations don’t. That’s what the fora for people with variants of schizophrenia said, anyway. A Polaroid, of course. He doesn’t want any digital traces. No way for others to prove he’s crazy. Not again.

Rubbing sleep from his eyes he sits up in bed. The thing still stares at him. All eyes, now, wavering very slightly as if seen on an old TV screen.

COME it tells him, PLEASE

That’s new. That’s personal.

He gets out of bed, throwing the blanket to the side, and shivers at the sensation of cold night air through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. There is something funny in the air, an off smell.

“Why?”

He gets right up in its- is face the right term? Its head area filled with eyes? All the pupils narrow in on him, and the sensation is unpleasant, but less so than it used to be. Bony blue black hands hover centimetres from his chest.

DANGER

It sounds almost uncertain, now. Odd. The sight of it is starting to give him a migraine, pain radiating dully out from his left eye socket. He rubs at his forehead, looking at the thing expectantly. Several eyes blink at him. He feels fingers on his arm and he flinches, stepping back. Its hands are cold, unpleasant things. The sort of hands you worry about grabbing your ankle when your foot dangles over the edge of your bed. The sort of fingers creeping in from the edges of posters in black and red.

“Fine, danger. What do you want me to do about it?”

COME

He groans, toeing on a pair of fluffy pink slippers with bunny ears, a gift from his sister before they lost contact. Well, before she cut contact, anyway. He spreads his arms expectantly, and slowly the thing glides towards the door. From somewhere in the building he can hear the muted beep of an alarm.

Grabbing his phone and keys from the table, he follows it as it glides towards the door. It hovers there, expectantly. Does it need him to unlock the door? This magic haunted creature who just shows up?

“Fine,” he mutters, flicking open the lock and holding the door as the thing glides out.

He follows it, turning for a moment to lock it behind him.

“Don’t bother, they will need to get in.”

He freezes. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck what is happening, are they seeing the creature, can they-

“It’s a gas leak thing,” the neighbour across the hall continues, unfazed.

The creature is nowhere to be seen, though he can feel the faintest cold shiver down his back.

“You’re John, right?”

They haven’t been introduced. They have exchanged brief nods and smiles and complaints about the lift never working, though, as neighbours do. He hasn’t lived there long.

He nods.

“Got your mail by accident once,” she says with a shrug, “I’m River.”

She has a thin and bony sort of face, with a long nose that might uncharitably be described as beak-like, an impression only furthered by the silver feather earrings she wears. But it suits her. Long dark hair falls in messy waves almost to her waist. He runs a hand through his own sleep messed hair self-consciously. Should he have gotten dressed?

“I just got home when my alarm started. Did you manage to turn yours off? Mine won’t fucking stop.”

She heads towards the stairs, and he follows her. Elsewhere in the building he can hear the sounds of confused muffled conversations. River digs a cigarette pack from her pocket and offers him one. He shakes his head.

“No thanks. And no, my alarm never went off. Are we meant to have a system for this?”

Her dark lined eyes widen.

“Yeah, by law.”

“Right. My, uh, my landlord doesn’t give a shit.”

“You should complain.”

“Oh, I have, believe me.”

They emerge together into a confused and largely pyjama-clad crowd milling about outside the door. An old lady struggles to hold a small dog of indeterminate breed as it tries to escape. Another has two cats peeking out from a cloth bag, squirming helplessly. Somewhere someone is on the phone with whoever one speaks to about these things. The janitor type lady? She lives in the cellar apartment, he thinks. He has only spoken to her once.

A small child, maybe seven or so, has sat down on the pavement, leaning against the wall. A man in his thirties is trying to convince her to stand up because the pavement is dirty, there might be broken glass, dog leavings. John zones out, staring up at his third floor window. Something glitters faintly for a moment.

Is this what the creature is here for? Making sure he doesn’t die of carbon monoxide poisoning or whatever? Does that mean it’s going to leave him alone from now on?

-

As it turns out, the thing does not leave him alone. It stayed away for a few days, but the next weekend it is there again, waiting for him as he gets back from work. He stares at the thing, defeated.

“Here,” he says, setting the bag of groceries on the floor next to it, “if you’re gonna keep coming here you might as well make yourself useful.”

The creature looks at him, and he nods at the fridge, then goes to lock the door behind him. When he turns back a few seconds later, the bag lies deflated on the floor, and his groceries are gone. He narrows his eyes at the creature, and checks the fridge, in case it had somehow teleported his things away, but no, it’s all there. Granted he wouldn’t personally feel the need to refrigerate shampoo and fabric softener, but his instructions were admittedly not specific.

“Thanks?”

It comes out more like a question than he intends for it to. It watches him without expression.

“Do you want-” he begins, but bites off the question.

Does it want coffee? Why would it want coffee, the thing hasn’t got a mouth. It’s not a person, it’s a- a thing. A monster or angel. The two are synonyms to him lately.

He makes himself a cup, then sits down across from it at the small kitchen table. It stares. Although, to be fair, how could it not stare? Its whole face is all eyes. It keeps its hands folded neatly on the kitchen table. He wonders what it is expecting of him.

Its hard not to resent the thing. The mere presence of it is fucking his life up, and even though it sort of saved him, he can’t help but feel like it imposes itself on him unnecessarily. Surely he would have woken up, or the people they sent to fix it would have found him before he died. It’s not like it pulled him out of a fire or anything. He swallows the itch of guilt with bitter coffee.

[greatwyrmgold]

I remember watching maybe two-thirds of the first episode of Misfit of Demon King Academy back in 2020, deciding it was garbage, and moving on. It seemed like another dumb isekai-adjacent power-fantasy action/harem light novel adaptation.

The next month, Geoff Thew published a video about how MoDKA is a great action-comedy, a parody in the same vein as One Punch Man, if OPM tried to pretend it was an ordinary superhero comic. A month ago, seeing that MoDKA was getting a second season, I decided to give it a second chance...

...and it's amazing what a change of perspective can do. MoDKA isn't high art, but it's a lot of fun if you don't think you're supposed to take it seriously. I'd compare it to Looney Toons before One Punch Man, specifically the parts where Bugs Bunny pulls one over on Elmer Fudd or Daffy Duck or whatever jerk deserves to be shamed this week.

There are a few things that I think make it work, beyond the simple absurdity of what Anos does.

Anos isn't a show-offy prick. He doesn't mind showing off, but he doesn't go out of his way to do so and often lets others take center stage when they can handle it. Anos is unflappably confident, but he's not arrogant—certainly not when compared to most of the purebloods and heroes he clashes with.

The central conflicts of the show are ones that Anos being super-strong doesn't trivialize. Sure, he could beat up everyone who disagrees with him, but that's clearly not enough to make royal-blooded demons stop believing in Avos Delhevia or treat half-demons any better (or make humans). It's easy for Anos to pick up a castle, spin it like a basketball, and chuck it across the woods, but that alone doesn't accomplish anything.

Anos isn't the only guy who does cool stuff; the supporting characters get their moments to shine. Part of this comes down to Anos encouraging his comrades' growth, but a lot of it comes down to the fact that characters other than Anos are allowed to have cool stuff. His closest friends could even surpass Anos in their respective specialties, with a bit more training. Everyone gets a chance to shine, even Anos's dorky dad and the technically-not-nameless students in the Unitarian political movement/Anos fanclub. (It makes sense in context. And isn't as dumb as it sounds.) Some of the biggest things Anos does are just him supporting his friends.

The characters are surprisingly detailed. Not incredibly so, but it's obvious that the author put a lot of thought into why the secondary cast is the way they are. Sasha and Misha Necron are absolutely a tsundere and a kuudere, but their backstory does a pretty good job of explaining why they treat each other and the people around them the way they do, and they have character traits outside their archetypes. Hardly anyone has the depth of an average Wildbow tertiary character, but plenty have more depth than the average isekai hero, or even the not-harem member who everyone agrees would make a better protagonist.

The series has thematic ambition beyond just making Anos look cool. The main villains, aside from the enigmatic Avos Delhevia, are demon institutions prejudiced against half-breeds and the legacy of one long-dead human who spent his life making sure humans would never let go of his hatred for demonkind. "Racism is bad" isn't the most sophisticated message, and it's not delivered in the most sophisticated manner, but it's also not delivered in the most basic manner. It doesn't make racism a matter of a few bad eggs, but of worldviews that the powerful use to justify fucking with the weak—worldviews that don't go away just because they're demonstrably, empirically wrong. It has its flaws*, but it has fewer flaws than ~90% of stories that try to tackle this subject.

So yeah. It's not a masterpiece, but if you want a dumb fun show to watch, you could certainly do worse.

*Like how the main reason that humans hate demons is a spell one dude cast that projects his angry Alex Jones rants into every human's mind for two thousand years. This could be turned into something that works without much effort, and if someone said that plot point wasn't so blunt and braindead in the light novel, I would probably believe them.

[separatist-apologist]

Sjm move in Jurian narratives is the same as Stephenie Meyer in her narratives about humans. Meyer makes humans really seem small, fragile and weak whereas she has a character like Charlie Swan who is putting up with her daughter shit. And meyer really had bella 'i was born to be a vampire and all weak human narratives, tf" . Sjm had Jurian and sent in demonic narratives to him to hype fae. No offends but no need to scrutinize human like that

I think, without saying anything nice about SM, the difference is that SJM makes humanity slaves or slave adjacent. I'm not saying humanity can't be weaker than their supernatural counterpart or even that there shouldn't be tension/conflict over this.

I'm saying that if you're going to write lore in which one of your groups enslaved the other, making the enslaved group the bad guys in your narrative framing is a problem. I forget who is telling the story of Drakon and Myriam (Rhys? Amren?), but Jurian seducing Clythia is very much written as a, "and he was a dick for this- he kills her and its brutal and unnecessary because men who kill women are bad" which, okay, usually thats true but Clythia is also AS terrible as her sister and if she learned to love a human at the last minute (literally HOW is this EVEN POSSIBLE? I have so many questions like why didn't she just kill him on sight?), we shouldn't be asked to sympathize.

And it's done to prop up Myriam and her choice to leave with Drakon and make Drakon seem better by comparison. Well, Drakon would nEVER have done that and like, yeah. Obviously. He only got involved when he found out he had a human mate. There were 0 stakes in it for Drakon.

And say what you want about Rhysand but like, he was in seemingly from the beginning despite nothing tying him to the humans. If SJM wants us to think Drakon is a good guy, she could have written a similar narrative. he joined, realized the healer is his mate, but his primary objective was always ending the slavery. But it's the other way around and he seemingly attempts to undermine Jurian over a woman and idk that feels fucking gross and weird.

Anyway I have a lot of Jurian thoughts but primarily my issue is with SJM and her framing of issues. Good guys = don't like slavery, okay very low bar. But then she'll WRITE it in and you're like...am I being asked to identify with the oppressors? Feeling sympathy for Rhys being kidnapped is one thing. Being asked to think Jurian is the villain because Drakon was horny is another .And like she did in Crescent City, if Jurian dares to have a low opinion of the fae, well he's the bad guy.

It's not about being weak, it's this very odd "humans are lesser" narrative that is ribboned through all over her works. She's making choices in her writing, words don't show up on the page. It's worth examining why she makes these choices. I think for ACOTAR it was all just an afterthought so the Drakon army could come at the last minute and save the day but I don't want to see them again. I hope if we do Rhysand hits him in the face for being a coward. I feel like only Rhys could get away with it.

[sleepingdeath-light]

reading the crossover headcanons for TOH was amazing!

i wanted to request a crossover with TOH and Steven Universe if possible! (also with Hunter x Reader) You can decide between reader being half-gem, like Steven, or fully gem! If you can't or don't want to, that's okay! Aand I really love your headcanons! You make them long and detailed! It's truly amazing.

Crossover Headcanons | SU x TOH [Hunter x Gem//Hybrid!Reader]

thank you for requesting, anon

These are written with a gender neutral reader in mind and have a general chronology from the reader’s last moments in little homeworld until they end up with Hunter, so apologies if this gets long!

Note : this is the first time I’ve written for the SU canon, so I’m not as experienced with that universe. Also my portrayal of these characters is still pretty rocky, so I may rework this in the future.

The first few months you spent in Little Homeworld had felt almost like a dream come to life; freedom to be yourself and explore a world full of organic life without the restrictions placed on you by the diamonds? It was fantastic! However, that feeling of unrestricted feeling soon started to grow stale as you realise that the growth of the small colony had already started to stagnate—and that not all humans were welcoming of intergalactic immigrants like your kind.

So to ease your mind you opted to take the warp to the next star system over—craving that same sense of excitement that you had during the gem war

Simply standing on the warp again was enough to get your blood pumping with a reignited vigour for exploration

A feeling so palpable that you failed to notice the array of spindly cracks that spanned the surface of the device, and the way that a sickly dull light pulsated beneath your feet (the sight accompanied by a warning hum far too low for you to notice)

Though you couldn’t ignore the way the warp didn’t immediately go off like usual, nor could you neglect the searing pain that spread through your veins and constricted your throat; leaving you in so much pain that you couldn’t even move or scream before your vision was engulfed in a glitching, sickeningly bright light

It must have been several hours later when you woke up, based on how high the sun was in the sky… was the sky that red before?

Your head was pounding and although your vision was blurry, yet you couldn’t ignore how different your surroundings were from the earth you were used to

The sky was a faint red and the ground beneath your feet was dusted with deep maroon grass—it was soft and warm under your fingertips but with how much organic matter there was you knew that this wasn’t a colony

Hell, you didn’t even arrive on a warp on this end, so either you had been transported to somewhere else because a malfunction (unusual, but likely) or someone had taken you from the receiving warp and dropped you off in the middle of a clearing (far less likely)

Suddenly struck with worry, you sat up and moved your clothes to get a good look at your gem, letting out a relieved sigh when you saw it undamaged (clearly you’d landed where you woke up as most organics would have tried to remove it from your body before dumping you)

Realising that you were mostly safe you slowly rose to your feet and decided to explore your new environment, hand hovering near your gem in case you needed to defend yourself from whatever creatures had made their home here—trying to make yourself appear as small, quiet and unnoticeable as possible as you went

However, your efforts seemed to be in vein as you were quickly greeted by an excitable and loud human girl who practically screamed her welcome to you

You were torn between fleeing and fighting her when she offered her hand and introduced herself as “Luz the human”, her demeanour quite closely mirroring what you’d heard about Steven when he was younger from his mothers—it was almost endearing how much she tried to hold in her joy at seeing another “human”. You almost didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth as she walked you back to her home.

You were accosted at the door by an organic tube with an owl’s face that quickly and gleefully introduced itself as Hooty—the creepy, but rather friendly, house demon

Luz made an effort to hastily brush him off and hurry you both inside where you met with the other two inhabitants of the home as well as Luz’s “awesome girlfriend”, Amity.

Eda, an older witch with grey hair that hardly suited her age, greeted you with muted suspicion, not even taking her eyes off of you as she addressed the human at your side—seemingly unsure of your motives but trusting herself to be stronger than you (if her grip on her staff was anything to go by)

King, however, was much more brazen and blatant in his distrust of you, stomping over and pointing an accusing claw up at you as he threatened you in every way he could muster (even if all that got him was a halfhearted coo from you that left the creature more frustrated and downtrodden than before)

The guest, Amity, meanwhile, looked over at you with disinterest before she caught a glimpse of your (colour) gem peeking out from your clothing—immediately pointing it out and questioning you about it, much to your chagrin

This inevitably led to a very long and semi-complicated conversation discussing the intricacies of your species and how, no, you’re technically not a human

No you weren’t trying to deceive Luz, either, you just felt too awkward to correct her

But when all was said and done (and you were all out of steam after a several hour session of intense questioning and frustration at miscommunications) they seemed much more relaxed around you—even willing to let you stay with them, at Luz’s request, so long as you pulled your weight around the house and helped to keep them safe

And, really, how hard could that be? You fought in an intergalactic war so taking out a few organics should be a piece of cake (as Steven would say)

After spending a few weeks in this strange new world you had come to realise one specific thing; it wasn’t easy. It was, in fact, the exact opposite.

If you had to bubble one more guard you were going to scream

What had they done to make this Emperor hate them so much?

It felt as though half of your time was spent bubbling, blocking or disabling people that had made their way to the Owl House—and the rest was spent painstakingly explaining your abilities and species to Amity, Lilith and Luz

Granted, that wasn’t the most stressful part of your stay

No

That was hands down the stresses that came with visits from Luz’s friends from Hexside: the endlessly kind and protective Willow and the ever-curious and annoyingly quick witted Gus

That being said, you did appreciate their enthusiasm to learn about and accommodate you—even if the look Willow gave you when you spoke about the empire’s treatment of organic life did leave you rather shaken

So what little free time you had was spent learning about the local culture and sharing your experiences with them

Training with Amity and Eda

Helping Willow with her plants in whatever way you can based on your gem

Creating gem clones to help Gus perfect his illusions even further

Teaching Lilith and Luz about your abilities as well as those of your fellow gems, even helping the latter learn to write using gem glyphs

It was heartwarming to see others so passionate about your home, even if their insistence on pushing you to your limits could be rather frustrating (especially early in the mornings when your patience ran thin)

However, the longer you spent there the more members of the Emperor’s Coven (amongst others) you ended up coming across. One particularly memorable instance occurred when you were escorting a fretting Amity through Bonesborough with the twins (who’s presence you had grown rather fond of as their visits became more frequent).

Ed had dragged Em back to the library a good few minutes ago, leaving you and Amity to your own decides as you weaved in and out of the foot traffic—only to stop completely when the youngest Blight suddenly froze before grabbing your hand and darting off to an adjacent alleyway

As you went to protest, she promptly clamped one hand over your mouth and gestured rather violently for you to stay quiet before nodding towards a figure just a bit away from you

From the golden mask and white cloak you knew they were a member of the Emperor’s Coven—but you’d seen them before, on the posters littered around the city, each exploring passersby to join their coven

Golden Guard

That was a definite threat

So you passed the girl a spare cloak and did what you could to mask your own appearance before carefully making your way back home, shopping be damned—one hand over your gem just in case he happened to notice you

Though thankfully he didn’t

Not that it stopped you from filing him away as someone to be wary of anyway; he was the emperor’s right hand man, after all, so there was no such thing as being “too cautious”

And for a while that’s exactly what it was, not that you saw much of him that is, but from what you’d been told about Luz and Amity’s run ins with him you were glad to have never seen him face-to-face. If you had, you were almost certain he wouldn’t come out unscathed—teenage protege or not.

So with all that in mind, the last that you were expecting to see on a relatively peaceful Saturday evening was the unmasked Golden Guard practically unconscious and leaning on Luz and Eda for support as they burst through the door

Completely ignoring Hooty as usual as they carefully laid him down on the seat beside you (after you’d hurriedly gotten up, that is)

He looked to be in an awful state, with his visible skin bloodied, bruised and scarred whilst his usually pristine uniform was tattered and caked in dirt and what seemed to be even more of his blood

Seeming to notice your distress, Eda briefly addressed you and her sister before sending you all off to gather supplies (or heal if your gem allowed it)

“The kid’s been through a lot, but he’s with us now. Trust me, I wouldn’t have carried him all this way if I had any doubts about it.”

And that was that

It took Hunter (as he introduced himself) over a week to even be able to get out of bed and walk around unassisted—and whilst he actively avoided speaking about what had happened to him, you had a feeling that Belos was somehow involved

Though things were still rather tense for a month or so after he arrived, no matter how hard Luz tried to integrate him (and no matter how polite and welcoming Willow and Gus tried to be)

And you didn’t even want to recall the shouting match that occurred when Amity saw him in the living room with Luz….

It seemed as though he was just more content to shut himself away with L’il Rascal and only interact with Luz and Eda; the former to learn from her and the latter because she wouldn’t let him get away with anything but

That wasn’t even mentioning the palpable tension between him and Lilith (she would only say that it was from their time in the coven—and Luz suspected he’d annoyed her a bit too much—but nothing else would come of it)

But the others were worried about him, so you were sent in as a neutral party to talk with him about… things. You weren’t really told what and you didn’t have the time to ask.

Initially he was incredibly closed off and would only address you briefly, barely even acknowledging your presence as he gave his full attention to the scattered papers on his desk, each depicting a different spell and each ever so slightly off

So, as gently as you could you took the quill from him and drew a simple glyph on a spare scalp of paper, carefully leading him through the motions before leaning back and activating the spell (and smiling at his much more openly interested expression)

That then sparked a deep conversation about different types of magic—specifically wild magic and glyphs—as you shared what you knew about the topic with one another, every so often breaking off into laughter or patient silence as he’d run across the room to show you his notes or books he’d found

Naturally this would lead to him asking you about where you came from and you discussing your origins with him

Homeworld

The Diamond Authority

The gem war

Colonies

Soldiers

Shattering

The Crystal Gems

Everything

He was incredibly easy to talk to as he listened with a genuine intensity to what you said, nodding along and even asking well thought out questions about your world where appropriate

Depending on how close you were, he may even ask to see your gem and ask about its purpose

If you let him touch it, he’d be so very gentle, almost treating you as though you were made of glass—maybe even sketching it down and noting down your abilities and weaknesses in his personal notebook and apologising if it was weird

This mutual interest in magic and your shared experiences of either having to conform to a specific role your whole life [full gem reader] or feeling out of place and weaker because of your shortcomings [half gem reader] would be the basis of your friendship turned relationship. The transition between the two would be so incredibly seamless and slow that you wouldn’t even notice it happening—one moment you two were best friends sparring and the next you were hiding your blushing face in his neck as he hugs you and apologises for hitting you a bit too hard with his magic.

Your relationship would be sweet and slow and genuine

Hunter is new to receiving any kind of affection, so you’d probably have to teach him a thing or two—but he’d learn quite quickly so don’t worry

He’d spend hours studying your culture and language just to write you notes or offer you affirmations in ways unique to your culture, even calling you “my (Y/n)” after a while

Likewise, the first time you called him “my Hunter” he was left red in the face for the rest of the day (he loved it, though, so don’t stop)

But the moment someone makes a teasing remark about how soft he’s gotten (usually one of the Blight siblings or his own younger sister figure, Luz), Hunter will partially revert to being cold in public (whilst still being affectionate and openly touch starved in private)

In short, your relationship with him would be built on a foundation of mutual trust, affection and understanding that sprouted from friendship and honest conversations about your passions and pasts

[americancowgirl19]

Puppet Master

Summary: Riley Biers, king from the shadows.

Warnings: angst, fluff, vampire mob shit

Reader: Female Vampire Reader

Pairings: Riley Biers x Female Vampire Reader

Word Count: 2,310

A/n: @fyeahtaylorp

Masterlist

“And what do we have here?” Aro questions, tilting his head as Felix forces the vampire he, Demetri, Jane and Alec brought back from America.

“This is one of the two vampires responsible for the newborn army in the Cullen territory, Master.” Jane tells him. “The other was torn apart and burned.”

Aro steps forward and places his hands on the American vampire. He struggles but is unable to escape Felix’s grip. Aro reads his mind. He sees his life, his death and his ‘resurrection’. He pays particular attention to the part in his memories where the Cullen boy, Edward, told the guards about this boy being his daughters mate.

“I see,” Aro whispers, pulling from him. As far as he could tell this vampire had no ability other than the fact that he is easily manipulated. For millenniums he had hoped that when his daughter finds her match they would be as useful as she is. The fact that he’s one step away from being useless is a disappointment.

His first instinct is to kill Riley before his beloved daughter ever finds him. Then, perhaps, he could find a suitable match and have Chelsea bond them together. Unfortunately, for him, the plan is just a passing thought as not even two seconds later the woman in question struts into the room.

Riley instantly senses you. He struggles even more in Felix’s grip until he can see you. Even though you’re barely in the corner of his eye, it’s enough to settle him.

“I wasn’t informed a trial was in session,” You state, your voice sounding as smooth as honey. Riley craved to hear it once more.

“Ah, my darling,” Aro greets, smiling brightly at you. You return the smile, albeit a more reserved one, as you walk to his side. “They have just returned from their mission and brought back the one responsible for all the trouble,”

“I see that,” You mutter, your eyes not sparing your friends a single glance. You stare at the kneeling man as he stares back at you. “Have you come to a verdict?” You question. Aro’s calculating eyes stare are you.

“He created a newborn army, caused quite the eruption.” Aro tells you. Your head turns to him. It only takes one look for you to catch onto what was going on.

You love your father as he loves you. The two of you worked hard to build this coven. As much as you loved him, you weren’t naïve. You knew your father’s thirst for power. You knew he would do anything to gain an inch, even if it meant hurting the ones he claimed to love.

You also knew him like the back of your hand. You didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking. Even if it had only been a few minutes since you walked into the room, you could already sense the tie binding you to this new vampire. A tie that Aro knew about. You assume, by the look in Aro’s eyes, that this vampire has no ability to please Aro.

Only vampires that were useful to Aro’s ultimate plan survived breaking the law. The only reason he’s still alive is because of the connecting tie to you. Still, you knew that wouldn’t have been enough to save him had you not arrived. 

“Well, I’ve been paying attention to the human news. I haven’t seen a single report about some demonic creature tearing apart a city in America. That means the vampire secret is still a secret.” You tell him. Aro’s lips tighten, his eyes trained on you.

You walk toward the kneeling vampire, unable to help yourself you comb your fingers through his hair enjoying how his eyes close briefly to enjoy the contact. You don’t stop walking, you pace around Felix as you continue with your second point.

“Has he had any dealings with the Children of the Moon?” You question. 

Aro shakes his head hesitantly. A pleased, yet cocky, grin lifts across your face.

 “He hasn’t exposed our secret to any human, unlike your precious Edward Cullen. He also hasn’t hunted in Volterra, that I’m certain of.” You mutter, knowing that your friends had brought him straight to the castle. “He hasn’t been a false witness to any other crime. Any immortal children?” You ask, your eyes glancing to your father as you pause by the twins.

“No,” Aro says lowly. You stare into your father’s eyes wonder if he wanted you to continue or if he was done pretending to be in charge. He remains silent prompting you to continue.

“Yes, he has caused some attention with his hunting habits,” You concede. You slowly move back toward Aro. “and yes his newborns made a mess of things. However, all the newborns are now gone and his hunting's in the future will be more... discrete,” You promise him.

“The Volturi do not offer second chances,” Caius growls from his throne. Your eyes roll as you turn toward him.

“Oh, do shut up Caius or I will have you punished for the town you drained in 1305,” You snapped, glaring at him. You and Caius spend a few moments staring each other down. A stare down you inevitably win. A small surge of pride runs through you when Caius averts his gaze.

Turning your gaze, you look back at your father. You continue to step closer to him until your just about toe-to-toe. You’re posture is relaxed but your gaze is challenging. You dare him to go against you.

“So, let me get this straight you want to kill him for a law that has been broken by everyone in this castle at least once?” You ask. “I just don’t see how that’s necessary,” You hum.

“Perhaps you’re right,” Aro states.

“Perhaps,” You hum condescendingly. “Felix, let him go.” You order. The brutish vampire releases Riley. You hold your hand out as you continue to stare at your father. Riley looks around him as he slowly stands up. Slowly, he takes your hand. “Though, is suppose to make up for his transgressions he can have a place on the guard,”

“A marvelous idea,” Aro nods. You hum, taking your gaze off of him. You send a smirk to Caius before pulling Riley out of the room.

“What’s going on?” Riley askes you quietly. You don’t answer.

You take him to your part of the castle and into your private quarters. It’s one of the largest rooms in the castle. It certainly impresses Riley.

“Make yourself at home,” You tell him, closing the door behind the pair of you. Riley turns to you after observing the room.

“What the fuck is going on?” Riley asks.

“Before I tell you my story,” You say taking a seat by the table. “Why don’t you tell me yours? It’ll be easier that way,”

You waited for Riley to begin. You understood his hesitance. When he did begin, you soaked up every detail. You managed to bite back multiple growls at every mention of this bitch Victoria. You didn’t know whether to be happy or annoyed that she’s already dead. You honestly would have liked the pleasure of killing her yourself.

“Well, I can tell you for certain that Edward was right. Victoria was using you. She wasn’t your mate.” Riley sits down in the adjacent seat.  “You weren’t anything more than a means to an end,” You tell him.

“What is this place?” He asks, looking at you. “What am I doing here?”

“This is Volterra, Italy. You are in the Volturi castle. We are the strongest and largest coven of vampires. The vampire world, like the humans, have laws. We’re the coven that enforces them.”

“And I broke your laws,” Riley states.

“Some minor ones,” You shrug. “You did nothing that nobody else in this coven has done,” You assure him. Riley frowns his eyebrows and you sigh. “Think of us as... the vampiric mob.” You smirk. With that explanation, everything starts to click for Riley. “Every vampire here serves a purpose because every vampire here - well, almost every vampire has some sort of ability. Like Edward with the mind reading and Jane with the torture,” Riley nods keeping up with you so far. “If you have value to the coven, you live. If you don’t, you die.”

“And what is my value?” Riley asks. You press your lips together.

“I’m your true mate,” You tell him not wanting to beat around the bushes. “You’re still alive simply because I want you to be.” Riley’s eyes widen a fraction. 

“You’re my mate?” Riley whispers. You nod, gently holding his face in your hand.

“And I have waited for you for over three thousand years,” You tell him.

“You’re-... What?” Riley asks. You grin laughing at his astonished look.

“I had lost faith that you would come,” You whisper to him. “I figured after all the lives I took and destroyed that I wouldn’t ever find you. I figured you had lived a human life and died long ago without me ever knowing. I never believed I was worthy of you but here you are,” By the end your sentence you had moved even closer to him. “And I will destroy this entire coven, my father included, before I allow one of them to harm you.” You promise.

“Three thousand years?” Riley whispers. You laugh kissing his cheek.

“I hope you’re into older women,” You whisper in his ear before leaning back in your seat. Riley’s quick to grab your hand before you can withdraw from him completely. You smile, interlocking your fingers with his.

“You’re father’s in this coven?” Riley suddenly asks.

“Aro,” You tell him. “He can read every thought in your mind with a single touch,” You explain. Riley instantly pictures him. “He would have had you killed had I not shown up,” You mention.

“Can you read minds too?” He asks. You smirk.

“My gift’s a little deadlier than mere mind reading,” You tell him. Riley raises his eyebrows obviously wanting to know. “I can kill everyone in this castle at the same time without lifting a finger or blinking an eye,”

“How?”

“Molecular combustion,” You tell him. “I can speed up the molecules in your body until you just burst. I can do it so fast you won’t feel a thing or I can draw it out,” Riley winces. “So, as you can see, if I want something, I get it,” You wink at him.

“What do you do here?”

“Destroy problematic vampires,” You answer shortly. “My father, along with Marcus and Caius, run the coven. I’m not into politics or power all that much. I have enough to make me happy. I have more power sitting in the background than I would on the front lines,”

“How so?”

“Fear,” You smirk. “Everyone here is afraid of me, with good reason. I’ve killed some of my fathers prized possessions more than once. It’s why the twins make such an effort to befriend me. I’ve also sped up Caius’s molecular structure enough to cause severe pain for a month straight after he pissed me off one time. They can’t control me. They can rule the coven all they wish but if I want something all I have to do is take it. It brings me great joy to watch the oh so powerful Kings of Volterra shudder in fear at the sight of me and stand by helplessly while I take what I want. Stomping on their ego is always satisfying.”

“So, even though I have no power, I will be apart of this coven?” Riley asks.

“Yes,” You nod. Riley slowly smirks.

“And since you truly hold all the power, does that make me the second most powerful vampire?” Riley arches his eyebrows. You chuckle winking at him.

“Now you’re getting the hang of it,” Riley smirks broadly. “You spent the last year being that red headed whore’s puppet but now you’ll spend the rest of your immortal existence playing puppet master with the strongest coven, hell the entire vampiric race as your puppets” You tell him.

Riley imagines his future with this kind of power. You stand up and walk behind him. Your arms circle around him and rub his chest. Your head nuzzles into his neck, your teeth nipping at his marble skin.

“Anything you want, my love, I will be sure to give it to you,” You promise him.

“Your father is the king of Volterra... but if we control him then...” You hum biting his ear seductively. 

“You catch on quickly, my dear” You whisper to him. In a flash, you come in front of him and straddle his waist. His hands instantly grab your hips. “Rule from the shadows,” You tell him. “Wil Aro, Marcus and Caius as a front all opposers and enemies will target them instead of us,”

“Surely vampires know of your power, wouldn’t they be able to figure it out?” Riley asks.

“When I use my power, I never leave witnesses outside of this coven,” You tell him. “There are only three people outside of this coven that know of my power. Edward Cullen, Carlisle Cullen, and Alice Cullen. Should word spread, I made sure they knew what I would do to those they love,” Riley smirks holding you close to him.

“Rule from the shadows, all the power we want, all the benefits, hardly any risk,” Riley mutters.

“A major step up from small town Forks, don’t you think?” You ask, tilting your head.

“Well, I certainly didn’t think this is where I’d end up,” Riley admits before getting handsy with you. You smirk, dragging your nails down his chest. “Certainly glad I did though,”

“Ditto,” You whisper, pressing you lips to his unable to hold back any longer.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

You Have to Let Go

For @whumptober2021​′s Day One prompt, “You Have to Let Go” / Betrayal

CW: Forced vampirism, blood drinking, vampire whumpee, whumpee takes revenge, referenced drug addiction

1908, somewhere outside of New York City

“You can’t keep this up forever.” William, one of the oldest members of the pack at just over a century, lays on his back on a chaise, his head hanging off, looking upside-down at the newest vampire in the pack.

Blood does not pool in his head or redden his cheeks, although he’s been like that for an hour or more. He stays pale, his hair and skin and even his eyes all nearly the same shade. It gives him the appearance of a ghost, although he’s solid enough.

Cold, and solid.

More marble statue than man, now. And yet still more man than animal, though that depends a little on the viewer’s perspective.

“Watch, watch me try,” Tristan hisses back at him from where he sits, curled up in the corner of the room, arms around his bent legs. He stares at a mostly-healed scar on his left knee, from a time he tripped and fell in the dark of the basement downstairs. It’ll be there forever now, he’s told, a reminder for eternity of the wounds he wore when he died. 

He pushes on it. There’s no pain.

Of course there isn’t. Pain is your body trying to warn you not to die, and he’s already dead. What is there to warn him of now? All the worst things have already happened. 

There’s a soft cry from an adjacent room, woozy and almost sultry. An answering murmur in Malorie’s low voice. There’s a flirty laugh, and then the next sound is less cry than moan. He’d blush if he still could. Instead, he ignores the sound. Someone paying money for the oblivion the venom offers them, or paying in skin and blood. 

Vampires aren’t picky, and blood renews much faster than coins, anyway.

“We gave you a gift. Wrapped it all up in a bow for you, didn’t we? ” William has an odd accent, like he’s a mix of Brit and something else that Tristan doesn’t recognize. There’s a mocking lilt to his tone that Tristan knows from his own childhood, the landowner’s children teasing him for his oddities and for the way they felt all the families working their land were more or less the same. Tris hadn’t been the favorite of the other farmers’ kids - there’d been whispers behind hands about all the bits of him that weren’t like other children - but they’d banded together against the landowner’s children still. He remembered with fuzzy affection the others picking up rocks more than once to throw in his defense.

There were still parts of home where there were rumors of changeling children, and his mother had angrily shouted down an accusation more than once, when he was young and caught lining up river rocks in perfect circles. But for all that there might be whispers from the old, the other village children had always stuck together when someone from outside came mocking.

He’d been so happy to get away from the town, going on the ship with his parents to America. Tears threaten at the memory of his mother holding him at the edge of the ship, the salt-spray in his face as they set off and away from home and toward what she promised would be a grand new one. 

Her sister had gone ahead first, years before, and had written glowing letters about America as a land of chances that Ireland didn’t offer. 

He wondered, bitterly, if his aunt had already been hooked on the venom by then. If she’d been writing those letters from vampire dens, with a pair of fangs buried in her other arm while she signed Your loving sister, Joanne.

Had she known she would try to sell him before she ever saw his face? Had she sold his parents’ lives, too, somehow?

He wishes, fierce and strong, that they had never left Ireland at all. That his mother had known not to trust Joanne as far as she could throw her. Too late, though. Too late.

Joanne the only one left standing, now. The rest of them are dead.

Even Tristan, who can be dead and still be separated from his parents by the gulf of their different kinds of death, who stares into damnation even if he were fully destroyed now. He remembers trying to confess his sins to a priest who chased him from the church with screams of demon, demon, begone. His soul has been handed over to evil, and all he’d ever done was try to be good. 

Tristan wipes the pink tears from his cheeks before William can see them. “I, I, I didn’t want your, your gift.”

“Does that matter now?” William flips over onto his stomach and drops to the floor into a crouch, smiling. His fangs glimmer in the dimness, as the night stretches on and on towards dawn. Already the horizon is going lighter around the edges, a soft dove gray that will lead soon to pink and blue. Already, Tristan can feel an unnatural exhaustion weighing down his bones, the need to sleep while the sun is up.

“To, to me it does.” Tristan leans his head slowly against the wall, closing his eyes. The pulse of thirst is stronger than his heartbeat ever was. 

“You’re not human any longer,” William says, and there’s a gentleness to his voice that Tristan is surprised by, turning to look at him. “You have to let go of all that. You’re not it any longer, and won’t be again. But isn’t this better?”

Tristan blinks once, twice. “No,” He whispers but fiercely. “I’ve, I’ve, been, um, I’ve been made a murderer, against my will. What of that is, is better?”

“All men kill, one way or another.” William shrugs, casual and unbothered. “We are only more honest about it and our reasons. But here, look, I’ve had one more thing done.”

He claps his hands. Tristan flinches at the sound, but the soft murmurings of the pack from other rooms goes silent. Then they drift into the parlor, one by one. Malorie is still wiping her latest partner’s blood from around the corners of her mouth, smiling. 

There are seven in the pack, not counting Tristan himself. He tries not to count himself.

When he looks now he frowns, seeing only five. “William?”

“We’ve one more gift for you,” William says, and gestures to the open double-sized doorway. 

Tristan stares as the last two members of the pack appear, with his aunt held between them, bound until she has to be dragged and cannot walk on her own.

Joanne’s eyes are wild, rimmed in bright white. She is gagged, cloth tied over her mouth until it bites viciously into the corners of her mouth. She sees him and begins to struggle anew, shouting as best she can. Nonsense sounds, muffled, pointless shouting. 

He can’t tell if she is begging for her life or cursing him.

He wishes he could believe it’s the former.

“What, what, what what what is this?” His words are barely a whisper, as he unfolds himself, pushing up onto his feet. His gums begin to itch around where his fangs have grown, the venom ready. 

“She’s behind in her payments again,” Alyssa says, laying her head on Joanne’s shoulder, her long brown hair falling half over her face. “In too deep. Chases the fang and doesn’t pay her rent, doesn’t pay us either.”

Tristan stands perfectly still, feeling nearly frozen. His aunt’s terror and panic are something he can smell, now, the sharp tang of adrenaline. It sours the blood, but there are vampires who prefer it that way. Who say the sour taste of pain and fear is a higher form of flavor.

William steps up to his side, running a hand down Tristan’s arm. He flinches away from the touch, but he knows better than to move away from the pack leader more than that. His chin tucks down in unconscious submission to William’s will. “You, you, you you you want me, to, to… kill her?”

“You miss your family,” William says, softly. “It ties you to your old life.” He smiles, something Tristan can see from the corner of his eyes, and leans his head slowly against Tristan’s, mingling white and red hair together. “She’s the reason they’re lost to you, right?”

“Yes,” He whispers in reply, turning slightly into the touch. William’s cool hands comes to cup his face, and he presses a soft kiss, light as air, against Tristan’s cheek, the corner of his mouth, finally presses their lips together.

It’s all sensation without temperature, and Tristan hums, opening his mouth for it, letting William take what he wants. His packleader’s tongue finds his fangs, presses against the venom glands just above and behind them. 

A tingle of venom falls onto Tristan’s tongue.

William hums. “Good boy,” He whispers, making Tristan shudder, half-disgusted and half-grateful for the praise. 

Joanne’s struggles kick up into a frenzy, but they do her no good. She’s bound so tightly that her wrists are rubbing raw to bleeding, and he can smell it. Saliva gathers in his mouth, his venom pulsing, sizzling on his tongue like a hot pepper eaten raw. He finds himself shaking, hands clinging now to William’s arms just to stay standing.

Joanne welcomed them when they got off the boat. But she’d snubbed Tristan’s father, had never liked him. She’d helped them find work, and all along she’d gone places at odd hours of the day and night. 

All she’d said to him after his parents died and he moved in with her was that his mother was never meant to die. She’d been meant to be out of the apartment, but had decided not to go on the errand to the woman who took in piecework, and Joanne had told him, I didn’t know she’d be home, or I’d have changed the day, wouldn’t I?

Then she said he should stop mewling in his grief, and slapped him full in the face for it. 

His lips pull back from his teeth, although he isn’t quite aware of it. Only of the taste of blood in the air on his tongue. 

“Have your revenge,” William whispers, the devil tempting a boy who has never been a saint. Tristan wonders if his mother will hate him, in her eternal rest, that he isn’t strong enough to resist this chance. 

He tips his head back and lets William mouth along the line of his neck.

“Let death come upon them, and let them go down alive into hell.” The verses come easily, without stammering. He was always better at reciting what he’d been taught to memorize, the words his mother read and reread to him, than at speaking for himself. “For there is wickedness in their dwellings, in, in the midst of them. But I have cried to God: and the Lord will save me.” His lips twist, and the tears burn so hot it feels like they are boiling over his eyes and down his cold skin. “But, but, but I cried, Aunt Jo, and-... and and and no one saved, um, saved me.”

He turns away from William and meets his aunt’s eyes.

She stares back at him, still struggling, still fighting. The blood from her torn-open arms runs down her hands behind her back, dripping to the floor. He can hear each droplet hit one by one. He can smell the fear in her, and he can smell what she’s spent her day doing. That she slept late, and ate at a place down the block from their tenement where the old woman sells sandwiches, the big blocks of meat carved to order. 

He can smell that she never thought of him at all, as she prepared to come here, to the den, for venom she can pour into a cocktail. He can smell even the way she was surprised when they told her there would be no more credit for her, she must pay now or perish.

She can’t pay. There is nothing left. She’s long since spent every bit of scratch that she gained from the deaths of her sister and brother-by-marriage, the extra cash that came from selling her nephew into… this.

He’s been moving across the floor and barely noticed. He’s only a foot or so away from her now, and the smell of her sweat is as strong as her blood. His pack members can see the fight in him fading, he’s sure, because their eyes are overbright and glittering with excitement. 

He holds her gaze.

It’s easier, since he died, to look people in the eyes. He’s not sure why.

“You,” He says, in a low voice that no longer trembles. “You made it so, so, so so I won’t ever be seeing them again. As a cloud is consumed, and passeth away: so he that shall go down to hell shall not come up. If, if you had, if I had died with them, if I…”

His throat feels like it’s closing, his voice dries up. 

“But, but, but, but you made me be damned,” Tristan manages, finally, his voice thready and barely-there. “Even if… even if I, if someone, if I am… I’ll still never, um, never see them again. We are, are, are, are both damned, now.”

William, just behind him, a cool presence the same temperature as the air around them, hums, interested. His hands rub up and down Tristan’s arms. “Will you kill her, Tristan? Have your vengeance? We’ll clean what’s left up for you.”

“No.”

Everyone inhales, although they don’t need to, in surprise.

Tristan stares one last time into his aunt’s frightened eyes. “I, I, I won’t, won’t kill her. But, um, but but but… but… I want… want you, your gift to be something else, William.”

“Name it, little brother.”

I’m not your brother.

He doesn’t bother with the protest. Not anymore.

“Turn her,” He says, softly. “And then, um, then then then wall her up in, in the cellar, and and and leave her, to, to starve.”

“A new vampire who doesn’t feed faces the true death anyway, in a month or two,” Malorie points out. When Joanne turns her head away, Malorie grabs her by the hair, forcing her to look back at Tristan with a cry of pain. 

“I don’t care. I, I, I just want her to, um, to suffer.”

He walks away, moving around the little group, and out into the growing new light of the early dawn. His bones already feel weighed down by the promise of sunlight. 

There is a workshop, a rickety wooden shed, in the yard. Tristan moves into it, closing the door to give himself a nearly-total darkness, and burrows down into the dirt, curling into a ball, closing his eyes. His hand grasps, instinctively, at a rosary he can no longer wear. Finding nothing, he finally goes still.

He hears one long wailing scream from his aunt from within the house, and then no more sound at all. 

He wonders how long it will take her to have her first death.

He wonders how long it will take for her to feel her second death, the true death, as she is starved of the blood her body needs to fully become the monster she had Tristan himself made into.

His mother would care.

Tristan doesn’t.

He falls asleep as the sun comes up, at the same time his aunt’s body shuts down bit by bit. Her heartbeat is the last thing to still.

Tristan’s heart stopped beating nearly four years ago.

-

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @newandfiguringitout @astrobly @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @pretty-face-breaker @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump

[aughtpunk]

BREAD BREAD BREAD BREAD BREAD

Toast always lands jelly-side-down around Crowley.

This does not seem to be a big deal at first. After all, even if you take into consideration the thousands upon thousands of meals he and Aziraphale shared it still wasn’t likely that any toast would fall during that time. Toast tended to stay put on the table. It’s toast. And, one might even argue, of course the toast is going to land jelly-side down. That side’s heavier. It only makes sense.

Which is what Aziraphale always thought until he held a piece of toast roughly a finger’s length over a plate and dropped it only for the bread to defy all laws of physics and land jelly-side-down anyway. He then went on to test it with jam, preserves, marmalades, compote, and even had one go with peanut butter. Every piece of toast landed spread-side-down no matter the height in which it was dropped. After he had ruined nearly half of a loaf worth of toast Aziraphale decided this was A Demon Thing and left it at that. 

***

Toast always lands butter-side-up around Aziraphale.

At first Crowley assumed this was An Angel Thing. It certainly sounded like an angel-thing. Forever blessed by Her Grace to protect her flock from ever having to wipe butter off the kitchen floor with a paper towel. Crowley had even went out of his way to see if the type of bread mattered. After making his way through the local bread aisle he went on to try bread-adjacent test subjects like bagels, croissants, muffins, scones, and even the most hellish breakfast item he could think of: an english muffin. All landed butter-side up. 

What Crowley didn’t know is that this wasn’t An Angel Thing. Why would it be? Aziraphale was the only angel who enjoyed eating enough to go out of his way to butter a slice of toast. In reality this was An Aziraphale Thing, as no bread or bread-adjacent food item wanted to hurt Aziraphale’s feelings by landing the wrong side down. Even breakfast items couldn’t stand to see him disappointed. It was for the best that Crowley didn’t know this. Being on the same emotional wavelength as bread would just be too much for his demonic heart to take. 

***

As always, it was the humans who mucked things up. 

Aziraphale and Crowley hadn’t meant to befriend the humans they met at the end of the world. Usually they did their best to keep away from humanity. Nothing personal, of course, it just never seemed worth a bother considering they would be dead before you really got to know them. Better to admire humans from afar and help/hinder any of the mayflies that wandered across their path. 

(Neither man would ever admit that the exact opposite was true. In fact, it was really easy to truly know a human inside and out in a short amount of time. Even easier to befriend them, or love them. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? The short amount of time. Both men carried a graveyard of memories in their hearts. And with every gravestone there would always be that promise--never again, keep them distant, it’s not worth it--only for them to dig burial plot when another human entered their lives. But enough about that. We’re here to talk about bread.)

They were prepared to leave the humans to their now-normal lives right up until the lot of them showed up at Aziraphale’s shop one morning demanding answers. Turns out that there was just enough non-humanity around them to trip up their brain’s instinct to forget everything that had happened. Every time one of their memories started to slip another person would clear their throat and loudly ask if anyone else was visited by aliens that day to make it all come crashing back. 

In the end it was decided they should all get together once a month for a nice cup of tea at Anathema’s place. Aziraphale agreed if only to make sure there were no odd side effects from Adam’s meddling. Crowley agreed simply because the other option was getting poked with a large silver pin over and over until he confessed his nipple amounts. They were both lying to themselves, but that was fine too.

(Don’t worry, we’re getting to the bread)

They were all having a nice conversation about how Crowley invented showing up fifteen minutes late with Starbucks to balance out Aziraphale’s invention of showing up fifteen minutes early with a dozen donuts when Adam lost his grip on his marmalade drenched scone and helplessly watched as it landed face-down with a large squelch. 

“That’s Crowley’s doing too,” Aziraphale said with a sigh, “toast landing jelly-side-down I mean.”

“Come on angel, it’s not like I’m doing it on purpose!” Crowley pointed accusingly at Aziraphale, “at least I’m not bending reality to keep butter from getting all over the carpet.”

“I’m sorry?” Anathema asked after the awkward silence went on a moment too long. 

“Toast always lands butter-side-up around my angel here,” Crowley said willfully ignoring the fact he said my angel, “go on, test it.”

Anathema took a scone, slathered the top with butter, held over the edge of the table and let go.

The scone landed butter-side-up. 

She picked the scone up, held it butter-side-down, and dropped it.

Butter-side-up.

She didn’t even see it flip around. 

“I don’t know why, but somehow that’s the weirdest thing that’s happened to us yet.” Said Madame Tracy. 

At that point both celestials and humans alike might have gone back to their tea and forgotten the whole toast-jam-butter thing ever happened, but Newt just had to ask a question. That’s what humans did after all. They got in trouble by asking questions. No wonder Aziraphale and Crowley liked them so much.

“So, wait, what happens if you spread butter and jam on the same side?”

Aziraphale and Crowley stared blankly at Newt. 

“You haven’t thought to try that?” Asked Madame Tracy. 

They turned to stare at each other. 

“Aren’t you like, thousands of years old?” Asked Adam.

For the first time in millennia the angel and demon were speechless.

Anathema waited to see if the odd moment would pass and, when it didn’t, quietly admitted that she had a fresh loaf of bread in the kitchen.

***

We are at the bread part.

***

Or, as it would be known, The Bread Incident.

***

“So do we drop it on it’s side?” Newt asked as he placed the buttered-and-jam-covered slice back on the plate. “Or like, spin it around first?”

Adam perked up, “What if you tossed it up in the air like a pizza?” 

“Do not.” Anathema said, not wanting to deal with her ceiling while she was already worrying about the state of the floor.

“Oh just shove it off the table!” Madam Tracy said, waving the butter-and-jam covered butter knife around. “More natural that way.”

Aziraphale nodded in agreement. “That does sound like the best approach. Ready, my dear?”

Crowley sighed. “This is it. This is the dumbest thing we’ve ever done.”

“Oh darling, I’m almost certain raising the wrong boy for eleven years was far more idiotic than this.”

“You did what now?” Anathema asked, only for her question to be forgotten by Adam pushing the plate experimental toast off the table. The ceramic plate landed on the kitchen floor with a gentle ting, its form unshattered by a well-timed miracle on Aziraphale’s part. Every eye--human and celestial alike--went from the plate to the piece of toast hanging nervously in the air.

Somehow this didn’t shock any of them. 

“I feel weird.” Adam said, finally breaking the silence. 

“Me too.” Said Newt.

“There’s a powerful feeling of ennui radiating off that toast.” Madam Tracy said. 

“We’ve done it,” Anathema said, “we’ve caused a slice of toast to have an existential crisis.”

“Perhaps it just needs a moment to think?” Asked Aziraphale.

“To think about what? It’s bread, angel!”

The toast exploded, sending bits of burnt jam-and-butter across the kitchen and across most of the guests. They stood there in silence, each looking to the other for some sort of explanation. Perhaps a bit of comfort. Newt was the first one to break, muttering about getting some wet cloths for everyone. 

“Angel.” Crowley finally said.

“Yes, my dear boy?”

“Let’s never speak of this again.”

“Yes, I think that is the best course of action, my dear.”

The group of humans and non-humans proceeded to test the butter-jam-bread a good dozen more times, each explosion as sticky as the last.