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quibliography · 5 months ago

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We Are Legion (We Are Bob) by Dennis E. Taylor

Synopsis: This novel is about RobertJohansson and the future he didn't expect to have. Bob was thrilled to be part of the cryogenic program that would freeze his brain upon death for reanimation in a more technologically-advanced future; he just didn't expect to wake up suddenly a century later as a digitized version of himself. But with the emotional settings turned off, he's able to take all of it in stride. Especially when he's suddenly jettisoned from the planet on a mission that will hopefully save humanity from itself.

My Quibs: This is my kind of book - heavily nerdy without being overbearing about it, lightly philosophical without being too biased, cheeky, and a bit self-deprecating. Granted, don't take this book very seriously. It's more like a stupid sit-com you turn on for some entertainment. Firstly with the characters: there really is only one character replicated a hundred times over, who is also our tour guide and narrator. The author is a self-proclaimed software engineer (much like Andy Weir who wrote The Martian) and so the character development is pretty standard: Bob is a self-assured but self-aware human who thinks his dad jokes are funny. I think he's fun to ride with but another reviewer described him as obnoxious. I could see that to be true if you think giggling at nerd references is obnoxious. It's true, Taylor nor Bob are witty, but we can both be five-year-olds pointing and laughing at a stupid fish face. That's who you're stuck with for 500 pages. [Edit: Having started the second book in the series, i must say that I fully agree with how tedious his humor is now. As an adult, it's fun to play on the same with a five-year-old but after a couple hours, I really want to have an adult conversation with an adult again.] Secondly with the world-building, or should I say universe-building: he paints an interesting scenario and then proceeds to play his own version of make-believe. Again, another reviewer commented that Bob gets lucky a lot but I didn't focus so much on how Bob solved the problem. I was more interested in the problems that Taylor created. How would you react if you woke up the next day and you were a bunch of data in the cloud? That everyone and everything you knew had been long gone for a century? 🤔 Bob realizes his "endocrine simulation routine" is disabled and basically represses his emotions for the first several chapters and when he does choose to turn it on, we don't see his reactions/process. Which is fine by me. I'm more curious how I would write that story if my character was given this situation. How would you feel if the only way to fulfill a functional necessity and social desire was to make a version of yourself? 😬 Bob's lucky that he got along with most versions of himself and that those he didn't get alone with could leave for other parts of the universe. I suppose this concept ended up being more like a parent-child relationship than a self-reflection idea, but if I were to write it... Anyways, I thoroughly enjoyed the thought exercise that was We Are Legion and I'm looking forward to other hypothetical situations that Bob gets himself into. [Edit: I made it about a fifth of the way into For We Are Many and Taylor doesn't really open up any new themes or scenarios. It's starting to read more like rambling except because he has so many more new Bobs to cram in, each Bob chapter is only four or five pages long. I feel like I'm just reading reports from coworkers. This will be a DNF unfortunately.]

Should you read it? It’s like a beach read for nerds. (But just the first one...)

Similar reads? As another reader mentioned, this is clearly in the genre of Smart Guy Talks Nerd Directly To You ala The Martian by Andy Weir and Ready Player One by Ernest Cline.

(Spoiler Alert!) I went into the story 100% blind and so I didn't want to list more thought questions before the spoiler warning in case others wanted some plot points to still be a surprise. For instance, after Bob reaches his initial destination, the book really branches out into several stories. Normally I would struggle with tracking multiple unrelated story lines, but luckily the writing is simple enough that it wasn't as difficult as I expected. 1. Bob goes back to Earth to see if humanity is okay. 2. Bob goes further and discovers a planet with sentient life on it. 3. Bob goes further and finds viable uninhabited planets. 4. Bob goes further and encounters a hostile probe that was launched from a different country. #3 and #4 didn't really interest me so much. But #1 and #2, while really exposing the god-complex of nerds and scientists, still posed an interesting question. How would you handle dictating the remaining world population as it's least-biased savior? Would you know how to mediate a group of desperate world leaders? And this is my bias here, but I like seeing science-driven civilians being forced into a military-esque command position. (It also happens in Stargate: Atlantis.) And finally the other question: Could you be an in-actionable observer to nature? Should you be? If you were motivated to take action, how far would you be willing to intervene? This reminds me of a BTS clip of Planet Earth where the film crew in Antarctica, who normally promise not to intervene in any natural situation, ultimately did help a young penguin out of a hole in the ice. I guess it had fallen in and would've been left behind to starve but the crew, after weighing the pros and cons, decided to quickly pop the penguin out of the hole. There are other examples in Planet Earth where a small mistake like that will ultimately kill an animal (I think an elephant wandered off and got lost and was presumed to ultimately die) and it's portrayed as a consequence of life. But this time, they intervened. Bob's study of the Deltans reminded me of that again. Although Taylor exaggerates everything ten times over for the sake of literary drama but the question still exists.

What did you think of We Are Legion (We Are Bob)?

#we are legion #bobiverse #dennis e taylor

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grossrottie · 2 months ago

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Selfship lore - The Sixth Doctor

Oh my god I adore him

(return to main masterpost)

S/I Name: Forest “Rottie” Sharpe Source: Doctor Who F/Os: The Sixth Doctor Pronouns: He/they Emoji nickname: technicolour dreamcoat 🐈‍⬛ Physical Description: Blond hair, steel-grey eyes, tall, lithe, awkward Attire/Fashion: Bright colours, flowy clothing, vacation attire, colourful sunglasses, loose and fun Picrew + Moodboards: (link to picrew) (him / us / me)

Relevant Ages: Met the Sixth Doctor at age 19, lost the Sixth Doctor at age 21 Likes: The Doctor, fruits (especially oranges), trying new things, experiencing alien cultures, chewable stims Dislikes: Staring into empty outer space, being ignored/abandoned, having idle hands Dynamic in Brief: Pompous Time Lord x Infatuated human experiencing puppy love Backstory:

Forest is a young human man who has, through a series of happenstances, come to travel with the Sixth Doctor. He has considerable self confidence issues to work through, but at the same time quite enjoys the condescending behaviour of the Doctor and the power imbalance between them. Paradoxes run through the relationship and the behaviour of each of them.

They meet by coincidence (and then another coincidence, and another, and another) when Forest is 19 years old, and Forest becomes intrigued and enthralled by the unusual Doctor. They hit it off quickly. Enamoured, adoring, and subconsciously desiring his approval but never feeling able to ask for it, Forest tags alongside the Doctor as his companion.

They travel through space and time for two years, growing closer with each adventure and close call. When miscommunications happen, the TARDIS occasionally intercedes and spills the secrets that she feels shouldn’t be kept between them. A crush develops between Forest and the Doctor which neither of them opt to confront.

When a mishap on an alien planet mortally wounds the Doctor and hurts him badly enough to cancel out his regenerative abilities, an emergency trigger is pulled within the TARDIS. The TARDIS sends Forest home, dropping him off on Earth with no warning or explanation and then disappearing back into the far future to save the Doctor.

The TARDIS manages as best she can. She appears around the Doctor and does the only thing she can do to save him; she reverts him to a slightly younger version of himself from before he got injured, by about three years.

Unfortunately, that was also before he met Forest.

Their time together is unwound from the Doctor’s personal timeline rather than simply repressed or blocked, so he cannot recreate the shape of Forest from the hole they left behind. The time and events between them still happened in space and time, but his body and mind have never experienced them.

The Doctor soon wakes up, three years younger, forcefully de-aged without any knowledge of it. His body, recognizing the change but unable to resolve it, continues to give him ghost pains of his (now non-existent) injuries.

The Doctor recovers from disorientating brain fog over the next few months in the TARDIS, while Forest waits on earth, wondering what happened.

When the Doctor is fully of his own mind again, he struggles to figure out exactly why he feels so odd. His body is healthy and shows no signs of injury, but yet he feels the lingering tingles and pain of something long forgotten. Something is missing and there is something that he should be doing…but what?

The TARDIS realizes it made a mistake and attempts to fix things. It follows Forest’s timeline and brings the Doctor to a point where they should be able to reconnect.

But (somewhat similar to Donna and the Tenth Doctor in ‘Partners in Crime’) Forest and the Sixth Doctor keep missing each other by a hair. Coincides keep them apart even as the TARDIS repeatedly attempts to find them, and eventually the TARDIS gives up.

Time passes for the Doctor and for Forest, but at very different speeds. The Sixth Doctor eventually regenerates into the Seventh, then the Eighth, then the one they don’t talk about, then the Ninth, and the Tenth. Forest is entirely forgotten. The only things that remains are the vague stories the Doctor stumbles upon in his subsequent journeys, the comments of "Tales say that you had a companion last you visited our planet" and "Don't you remember your previous stay in our lovely Saturn Serenity Inn?" that lets him know that something is truly missing. He was reported to have travelled for some time with a partner, and yet he can’t remember when, why, or who. He never visited these places. But over the next few hundred years, he repeatedly hears similar stories that don’t add up in his own personal timeline.

Meanwhile it has only been two years for Forest. He has no idea what happened. To his perspective, the Doctor got mortally wounded, the TARDIS took Forest and dropped him off at home, the TARDIS vanished again, and he was left on Earth with no answers. The Doctor could be dead for all he knew—or perhaps Forest was just abandoned. Which would be worse?

He eventually tries to forget about the Sixth Doctor. While he never succeeds in that regard, he never sees the Sixth Doctor’s face again.

#lore masterpost #selfship tag #sixth doctor taggie #dw #this is. long #and it is only a fraction of my Tenth Doctor plotline oh god #maybe I gotta keep them separate #I was gonna add them onto the same post but idk

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sarcasmandships · 2 months ago

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I’ve been making my way through all your solangelo fics on ao3 and I’m having so much fun reading them, your writing is so amazing!! It’s sort of a double edged sword for me though because as much as I’m enjoying it, it does make me feel like my writing isn’t as good in comparison. Do you have any advice on how I can improve my writing, or would you be able to give some insight into your creative process? I’d just really like to learn from you, but no pressure if you don’t feel comfortable with that!!

First of all – thank you!!

Seriously, thank you so, so much for reading and enjoying my work—I realy appreciate it! Comments like yours genuinely mean the world, and I’m so glad you’re having fun with the fics.

I completely get what you mean about comparison being a double-edged sword. It’s so easy to fall into that mindset when you’re reading something you like and think, “oh no, my writing could never be this good.” But honestly? That kind of thinking isn’t helpful—it’s the thief of joy (cliché but true).

Please remember: your writing is yours. That alone makes it valuable. Even if you’re not 100% happy with it (and let’s be real, are any of us ever truly satisfied?), the fact that you’re creating something and putting it out there is huge. Be proud of that. Seriously.

That being said—I’ve learned so much from other fanfic authors, and I’m more than happy to share what I’ve picked up over the years. You might regret asking, though, because this is about to be long (basically an essay).

A bit of background about me as a writer:

At the risk of sounding cliché, I’ve always been a really creative person. I think I must have some kind of dormant fanfic gene, because any time I consume a piece of media, my brain immediately starts spinning fic ideas and “what if” scenarios. I’ve done that for as long as I can remember.

Like, genuinely—Rainbow Magic fairies taught me how to read. I used to make up self-insert stories in that universe and force my friends to act them out at school. Peak delusion. Peak origin story.

I’ve been reading fanfic since I first got internet access—probably far too young—and I’ve been writing it for years. What’s on my ao3 now is literally just the tip of the iceberg. There are so many old works from Wattpad, FanFiction.net, Quotev, etc. that no longer exist (thank the gods), and even a few orphaned fics on ao3 that I deleted out of sheer embarrassment. Plus, I have hundreds of abandoned or half-finished drafts in my Google Drive.

All I really do is work, sleep, go to the gym, and write fanfic. And when I’m doing those other non-writing activities? I’m usually outlining fics in my head. It’s a full-time obsession.

So yeah—this has been years in the making. My writing now is not representative of where I started. My early stuff was dire. I’m talking awful grammar, zero paragraphing, and characters so wildly out of character they may as well have been OCs. Not to sound dramatic or pretentious, but I’ve put in literal years of effort trying to improve my craft. It’s not easy, but it’s doable, and if I can get better, so can anyone.

Writing advice (aka: the unstructured ramble begins):

1. Read widely and often

This is the number one thing I always recommend. Whether it’s traditionally published work or fanfic, read as much as you can. Pay attention to the writing styles you’re drawn to, the narrative tools they use, what grips you and what doesn’t. I fully believe you should never write something you wouldn’t want to read yourself.

That said, I completely understand that not everyone has the time, energy, or capacity to read constantly—whether due to school, work, burnout, or mental/physical health. If you’re in a season of life where reading’s hard, don’t feel guilty about it. But if and when you can read a lot, it’s such a helpful tool.

2. Read actively, not just passively

What I mean by that is: start thinking critically about what you’re reading. Pay attention to how themes are developed, how characters are revealed through small moments, how dialogue flows. Notice when the narrative does something clever. Ask yourself why something hits hard—was it the imagery, the rhythm, the character voice?

If you’re still in school, this is where those English classes actually come in handy. I know it’s easy to roll your eyes at “the curtains were blue because of sadness” analysis, but once you start writing, that moment of realisation hits: Oh. Words mean things. And I get to choose what they mean. It’s weirdly powerful.

I was really lucky in high school—my English teacher liked my creative writing and put me forward for a summer creative residency programme. It was basically a writing retreat for teenagers, and I learned so much from it. I fully recognise that’s a privilege, but I mention it just to say that if you ever get a chance to take part in creative workshops or classes, definitely go for it. They can be game-changing.

I know I’ve been going on a bit—sorry! I just get really passionate about this stuff. But since you asked about my creative process, here’s the honest, slightly chaotic breakdown:

One of the best things about writing fanfic is how flexible it is. You get to decide what kind of fanfic writer you want to be. Like, you could take the cast of The Office, throw them into a high fantasy AU with dragons and blood magic, and spend weeks building an entire magic system from the ground up. And that’s brilliant—if it’s your thing.

But personally, that’s not really my vibe. I’m definitely more of a character-driven writer. What I love most about fanfic is that I don’t have to do all that worldbuilding from scratch. I already know these characters, and so does the reader. That means I can just dive headfirst into the messy, emotional stuff—how they tick, what they fear, how they’d react to being dropped into a different universe, situation, or problem. That’s what I find the most compelling.

One thing I’ve learned is that when in doubt, always come back to character motivation. You can have the most beautiful prose or the cleverest plot twist in the world, but if your characters aren’t emotionally grounded, readers won’t care. Ask yourself: What does this character want right now? What are they scarred of? How do they show it, and how do they hide it? Even in the most chaotic or absurd scenes (hello, library lockdown—a little hint at an upcoming Socialites chapter), if the emotional core is real, the scene will land.

Where ideas come from:

Most of my ideas come to me at completely random times—usually when I’m walking home, in the shower, or trying to sleep. Songs are a huge source of inspiration for me, especially emotionally-charged or storytelling-heavy ones. I don’t really engage with fic prompts anymore (I’m too deep in my own WIP hole), but I definitely used to when I was starting out, and I think they’re a great tool for getting the creative juices flowing.

Outlining and structure:

When I get an idea I want to run with, I start by making a rough outline. Nothing fancy—just bullet points about what needs to happen in each chapter or one-shot. Each scene should have a clear purpose—something it needs to communicate, whether that’s emotional development, plot progression, foreshadowing, or a shift in dynamics between characters.

For example, in Socialites, there’s a scene with Will and some of the Seven that I wrote specifically to make it clear that Nico hadn’t told anyone about his plans for the date. That detail was going to be important later, so that would’ve been the main goal in my pre-chapter breakdown. I like to think of it as writing with intention, even if the actual writing part ends up a bit messy.

How I actually write:

When I sit down to write, I usually start with one of two things: either the opening, especially in Socialites where setting and weather do a lot of emotional heavy lifting, or the dialogue. Honestly, most of my chapters begin life as pure dialogue—just lines bouncing between characters without any tags or action. Once that’s down, I go back in and layer over the physicality, the pacing, the internal monolgue, and all the description.

Let your characters talk. Talk too much. Talk out of turn. Ramble. Interrupt each other. Say the wrong thing and then backpedal. Bonus tip: when in doubt, make them flirt through academic terminology. It’s both funny and unreasonably sexy.

This method really helps me get the rhythm of the conversation right and makes sure every character gets their moment in the scene. It’s also a brilliant way to explore dynamics and tone without getting bogged down in exposition.

But it does have its downsides. I can definitely get repetitive, especially when I write scenes in a non-linear way like this. So if you want to try this approach, I’d recommend starting with smaller chunks—maybe one conversation or moment—and making sure you’re happy with that before expanding.

Another huge part of my writing journey has been figuring out my style. And that’s still very much a work in progress, but I’ve definitely settled into something that feels like me now.

A lot of that has been shaped by other writers—both published and fanfic authors. Donna Tartt (who I’ve probably mentioned a hundred times by now) is basically a literary god to me. And SnitchesAndTalkers on ao3? Life-changing. Their work permanently rewired my brain.

My own style leans very lyrical and descriptive. I love imagery. I love pathetic fallacy. I love a good metaphor that overreaches a bit. You can pry my similes from my cold, dead hands. Yes, I know it bleeds into purple prose sometimes, but honestly? I like it that way. It’s dramatic, and it’s indulgent, and it’s mine. Let me live.

(Also, yes, I absolutely have favourite words and turns of phrase that crop up constantly. If I had a pound for every time I’ve used “reverence” or compared something to gravity, I’d be able to fund my own niche dark academia webseries. But at least I’m self-aware about it.)

That said, I do try to balance the poetic with the practical. I’m a big fan of using tonal shifts to ground emotional moments—sometimes a heavy bit of prose needs a sarcastic line or a well-timed deadpan reaction to keep it from tipping into melodrama. When I edit, I go through with full academic energy. I use Google Docs like I’m marking someone else’s essay. My comment trail is full of notes like:

“make this bit funnier”

“tone here needs to be flatter”

“you’ve written another love confession—amp up the homoerotic subtext”

Basically, I proofread like I’m peer-reviewing an unhinged thesis.

You don’t need to “find your voice” once and then stick to it forever. Your style can (and should) shift depending on the tone of the scene, the POV character, even your own mood that day. Some scenes want lyrical prose and aching metaphor. Some want snarky banter and coffee stains. You contain multitudes, let your writing reflect that.

Writing from experience (aka: bleeding a little onto the page):

One thing I think makes a huge difference—especially in character-driven fic—is writing from your own experiences and emotions. And no, I don’t mean you need to have fought a cyclops or kissed your mortal enemy in a haunted library (though if you have, please message me immediately). What I do mean is: if you’ve ever felt heartbreak, fear, yearning, shame, pride—use it.

That doesn’t mean you have to be super literal. You can filter it through metaphor, exaggerate it, twist it into something dramatic and unrecognisable. But readers can always tell when something has emotional truth behind it. It hits different. That’s what makes a moment feel real—even in a completely fictional setting.

A lot of Socialites comes from me pulling threads out of my own life—feeling like an outsider, dealing with class differences, overthinking every interaction, being paralysed by shame but desperate to be seen. Will’s spirals? Yeah, guilty. Nico’s defensiveness and fear of being a second choice? Also painfully familiar. You don’t need to bare your soul every time, but being honest—even in the smallest ways—makes your writing richer and more grounded.

Also, bonus: it’s weirdly therapeutic. Sometimes you realise what you needed to hear through the way your characters speak to each other. And sometimes you get to process your own stuff through metaphorical Greek tragedy, which is honestly the dream.

On research (and how it nearly broke me):

I used to be terrible for getting hung up on small details. If I didn’t know exactly how something worked, I couldn’t move on. It used to fully derail my writing flow.

Now, I’m more forgiving with myself. If I hit a scene that needs research I’m not ready for, I skip it and come back later. I leave myself little comments like:

[research CO2 tanks as propulsion source]and move on with my life.

(That one was real, by the way—Socialites required more niche Googling than my actual dissertation. The different majors! The language stuff! The logistics of staging a full emotional breakdown in a hematology lab without contaminating the samples!)

I had a complete breakdown once trying to write a Death Note fic that involved explaining a chess strategy to land someone in zugzwang. I don’t play chess. It nearly broke me. But I’m really passionate about getting things right when it matters—deep, thoughtful research adds so much realism and emotional weight to a fic. I just try not to let it stop me from getting words on the page in the meantime.

It’s so easy to think something not coming out “perfect” means you’ve messed it up. You haven’t. It just means you’re shaping it. First drafts are supposed to be messy. That’s literally their job. The good stuff happens in revision. Sometimes I’ll rewrite a single paragraph six times, not because it was bad, but because I knew it could be better. That instinct is a strength. Trust it.

Final (and possibly most important) advice:

Honestly, the best advice I can give you (though it might sound a bit cheesy) is to enjoy the process. I know it’s tempting to measure the success of your writing by kudos or comments (and yeah, those are lovely), but the heart of it should always be you. You’re creating something that didn’t exist before. You’re either fixing the mess of canon (Uncle Rick, I love you, but maybe take a little stroll through the pjo Tumblr tag to reacquaint yourself with your own characters), or you’re throwing your faves into emotionally devastating chaos just because it’s fun. That’s the beauty of fanfic.

Whenever I start spiralling about whether something is worth posting, I ask myself: If I put this out into the world and no one ever read it, would I still enjoy it?

And if the answer is yes, then it’s worth writing.

Socialites sat in my drafts for almost a year before I posted it. I was nervous—what if no one liked it, what if it wasn’t good enough, what if I’d wasted my time? But every time I re-read a chapter, I thought, No, I actually really like this. I was proud of it. And that feeling matters more than any hit count ever will.

That said, I completely understand how hard it is to push through those moments of insecurity. Imposter syndrome is real and evil and unfortunately very persistent. But it’s something you have to work through—not by ignoring it, but by writing anyway. And when something isn’t working, that’s not a sign you’re a bad writer—it just means something’s out of sync. Break it down. Figure out what’s off. Rebuild it stronger.

And finally… hurt them. Hurt them all.

Since I am, at my core, an angst gremlin in a human body, I have to leave you with one last golden rule:

Always ask yourself—how can I inflict the most emotional pain possible on these characters, and by extension, my readers?

And then do exactly that. Ruthlessly. With feeling.

Thank you so much for this ask. I know this was long and rambly (classic me), and probably full of far too many tangents, but I really wanted to do it justice. And if you—or anyone else still reading—ever have more questions or just want to chat about writing, feel free to drop me a message.

One of the best things about fanfic is that it’s community-focused at its core. We’re all just peple who love stories, cheering each other on as we write them.

I’m rooting for you. Your writing voice matters. I can’t wait to see what you do with it.

Sending you all my love and literary chaos <3

#ask #writing advice #fanfic #ao3 #fanfic writing

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clarity2electricboogaloo · 1 year ago

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This might get long but it’s on the brain right now. Not much organization just ranting.

Not proof read immediately, might make edits later.

The Wilbur situation. It’d fucking sickening to think about but when I see posts ranting I kinda have to and now it won’t leave.

Wilbur soot, since June or July of 2022, was such an inspiration to me. His acting, his music, what he was able to create through just a computer screen and a game where everything is shaped like a block. It was amazing.

I loved watching him and his interactions with people like Tommy, Phil, Techno (RIP 👑) and anyone else on the dsmp server or the osmp or anything else he had joined since.

I had loved his characters and the way things developed. His music could be something I blast in my headphones, something I could cry to, or something to just vibe to. Hell, his fucking band was my top artist last year for Spotify wrapped.

I’d cosplayed tallulah and taken pictures with Wilburs at a convention. More people he had impacted and sparked creativity in.

He was a part or daily life, honestly.

And that all came crashing down yesterday.

I got the news at school from a friend that enjoyed Wilbur’s content before everything. During lunch she said, “He basically admitted to the allegations.”

I needed to see it to fully comprehend it, but there it was later when I checked discord. A half-assed apology for the abuse allegations flooding in after Shelby’s stream. I was disgusted.

I watched Shelby’s vod of the stream next. Everything I heard clicked with what I read on the “apology.” It only deepened what I was feeling and what my friends were feeling.

10 fucking months Shelby took to recover from this relationship. And all she gets is “whoops I was an asshole but therapy!!”

Physical, emotional, and financial abuse. And we only have what she said on stream, apparently not even half of it.

She’s right to not accept his apology.

She deserves so much better and I am so happy fans are providing her support and showing just how proud they are that she was able to come out with this story.

I’ve seen many realizing that they are in or have been in relationships like this through Shelby. And though this should never be something that happens, being able to spread awareness, prevent these types of things from happening to other people, and shutting down an abuser is just. I’m glad at least a few good things came out of that horrid relationship.

My heart goes out to Shelby and any other victims.

This is not all I wanted to say but with the progression of this rant there’s nowhere to really put them.

That is all.

Support victims, fuck Wilbur Soot, send all love and support to Shubble.

Thank you for reading my rant.

#clarity’s ramblings #fuck wilbur soot #wilbur soot #wilbur situation #shubble #shelby shubble #shelby graces #support victims #ranting #rant post #serious post

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chillibeanos · 1 year ago

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THE MISADVENTURES OF BEAN SPROUT

Episode 1 - A Normal Day In Suburbia

*apologies that it runs a bit short!!!!!!!

(ALL FRANCHISE-BASED WORKS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS)

Sit back, Relax, and Enjoy!!

White-picket fences, barbed wire and trenches…

These are what Auburn was generally described with. It was a town of joy, happiness, sorrow, chaos, deep-minded people…Basically anything goes. Some people go on long and quiet days in their room, while others go to Mulberry Beach. Maybe others wanted to see Prosopagnosia Museum to look at great works of art. Perhaps you could go to the Amaryllis Town Center to go shopping for your daily needs. You could go to the Burgundy Boardwalk to see new sights and sounds…

There’s a good range of everything.

However, our story takes a turn. This tale revolves around our childish yet violent anti-hero rabbit creature, Bean Sprout. Today they’re in a doctor’s office. One of their friends is operating on an injury they got while taking a dangerous trek through the most dangerous place imaginable…

“That’s not true, Bean. You fell off the high-dive at the local pool.”

“It is true! My whole body hurts now.”

“Only your hands should hurt.”

“Not as much as yours though.”

“Just be quiet.”

“Right. Sorry, Mr Strange.”

That’s right. Bean is friends with Dr. Strange. How? I don’t know, it just happened one day and that brought us here.

Stephen sighed. “How old are you Bean? Like 12?

“Excuse you! I’m 28!

“You don’t look or act like you’re 28.”

“I can look and act like I’m-”

Just then, Stephen poked their hand accidentally, making them let out a cartoon-like shout.

“YEOWCH!!!!”

“Sorry, sorry. Let me get that.

“:[“

“Bean…don’t look at me like that.”

“I got an ouchie :[“

“Bean, you’re fine. You’re a disciple to a literal god. He can get you a new body if you ever die.”

“But ouchie :[

Also, don’t go around saying that, Mr. Strange. There are dangerous people coming for my throat as we speak.”

“Well, maybe…you shouldn’t have killed all of those people when you were 12.”

“I was young! Naive even! I wasn’t thinking clearly! Brains aren’t fully developed until you’re 25 you know.”

“...It doesn’t seem like yours right now is fully developed either.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

As their surgery was done, Bean thanked him and went off on their merry way. They went to the beach to relax. They took off their shoes and put their little bunny paws in the sand.

“Ah…peace and quiet…”

A ship was being taken down by a kraken in the distance.

“Like I said…peace and quiet…”

There was a person on fire, screaming in agony as their skin peeled off behind them.

“He’ll walk it off.”

They smiled and began burying themself in the sand. Yeah, they aren’t the most morally-correct or empathetic person out there, but they didn’t care. They were having fun and that’s all that mattered. They were part of the Guardians of The Galaxy for god’s sake! They were a big time Toon in 1956 Hollywood. They worked for the President as a D.S.O Agent. They were happily married to 97 different people. Their brothers were Ash Williams and Ethan Winters. They are heavily considered to be adopt-able. Their uncles were Arthur Morgan and Tony Stark. Their cousins were the Animaniacs, which technically made them Warner Brothers property legally. They’re wanted for several millions of units in the galaxy and are still on the run from being put on death row. Their sister was the Savior of the Mutiverse, Kai Drew! There’s seemingly nothing they aren’t capable of doing.

Later in the day, they went over to an afternoon barbecue at someone’s household. They went in and stood next to Monarch Lovelace, the sexiest butterfly hybrid around. He was holding a glass of white wine, as was Bean.

“Hi Monarch!”

“Oh hello, Bean. it’s good to see you.”

“How are you? :3”

“Good. You?”

“I got hand surgery today.”

“Oh, are you okay? Did it go well?”

“Mhm. I’m fine. It went well.”

“That’s good.”

Monarch smiled warmly and held both of the bunny’s hands. He pressed a gentle kiss on them.

“I think this was a good close for today. Don’t you agree, Bean?”

“Yeah…It sure was-” Bean was being totally normal and not insane about the guy doing that just now while they were in proximity.

Monarch put a hand over their shoulder as they both watched the people at the party have fun at the gathering…

[End of Episode 1]

#oc #oc lore #my ocs #tmobs #the misadventures of bean sprout #bean sprout #story #writing #marvel #dr strange #suburbia

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vegalocity · 3 years ago

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What would have happened in the oblivion series if Porty actually liked Red Son/developed a crush on him

I guess it depends on at what part of 'the plan' Porty is at when he realizes he's officially real enough to Catch Feelings

under the cut because it got long

If he's already past the part at the climax of part 1 when he 'sets up the job' for him and he's officially fully embraced being 'a gift for Xiaotian' then Porty's probably figuring to himself that he can't go back on that, he can't start rescinding orders or it'll make it easier for Red to start ignoring other more important orders, the whole project would be down the tubes. Especially since Red's developed a sort of strange dependence on the music. It would be a more bitter parting, and if in his perfect setup, Xiaotian had been totally down for his new toy, he would make double triple sure Classic Model really knows how to take care of him. He doesn't want to hear about him like, tormenting Red with his iron grip on his mind for kicks or anything (-eyes @unseelie-robynx's bad end fics-) so it would basically be the same thing as it is in the normal story because Xiaotian's gonna find out and still be pissed. The only thing that would be different in this version would probably be Porty being kind of... offended? at how disgusted Xiaotian is by this. Because he didn't HAVE to make him a gift for him! He could have taken this sweet cute perfect little plaything and just had him for himself, but he GAVE him to HIM and this is how he thanks him??

At the beginning of the timeline, when the plan was still supposed to make him a bodyguard, he'd probably try to subtly turn him against his parents, maybe he doesn't have enough faith in the music yet to be able to change his perception to the degree of getting Red to reciprocate his newfound feelings, so he'd want Red to want to be here for the Porty itself and he can do the seduction part himself. Maybe convince him to start coming earlier and earlier until he's starting to show up the second the club is open and stays until porty tells him he should go home before his parents get too worried, and enjoy listening to him complain because he'd rather stay here with him. He might start to cut the music out of Red's brain after a certain point, thinking it's done its job once Red's coming in and seeming to have a complete blast dancing with the others and flirting with him while he's near the turntables. he probably doesn't develop any sort of dependency on Oblivion in this version, he just attributes the whole thing to sort of dissociating a bit when he was first coming here and getting really really overwhelmed. This one doesn't even really raise any red flags when Xiaotian makes the scene, because Red's acting pretty normal, he complains about The Original Nyoodle Boy showing up and ruining the whole atmosphere, and when questioned asks if he really thought Red doesn't do anything to unwind after long days of being evil. Also HELL NO Are you allowed to poof their DJ! who cares if he's a clone! He's real enough for Red and he'll fight Xiaotian over it! Ironically still fulfilling the niche of bodyguard.

But if it was right in that sweet spot, after Red confessed but before the 'Gift' idea was fully stuck into his brain, he'd just... casually 'make him his'. Red Son just... doesn't come home that night, spends a whole day under Oblivion so he'll fully be convinced of the story Porty fabricates for him even if he wasn't put under to reinforce it a single time from then on, about how they'd been having some gentle sweet secret relationship this whole time, and he'd just recently decided he couldn't stand it anymore, and he's going to go home and pack some stuff and elope with him, maybe leave a letter to his parents explaining the issue so they won't go looking. Now, he needs an actual place to stay of course he can't just sleep on the break room couch anymore with another body wanting to cuddle, but Red's loaded so he's able to find a decent apartment nearby to plan his sets while the two of them cuddle on the couch. He needs to upkeep it a little bit, with Red. He complains about wierd headaches that make him feel uneasy, upset. and Porty's best option is to let him drift until they're gone. Better and easier than worrying about that being the truth trying to leak out. When Xiaotian shows up it's to a Red who thinks HE's the clone and thinks Porty's being so sweet giving him a clone Xiaotian to keep him company so he won't get lonely while he's working~ Xiaotian does not consider mind control and thinks that Red just made an honest mistake and thought Porty was the real him. He's not sure how to process that Red's been in a relationship 'with him' that was apparently serious enough to break with his Parents, and he doesn't know how to break it to him that that's a clone he'd fallen for. Or if Red would respond well to his own feelings. the record gathers dust, nobody whose still alive aware of its hand in this.

#oblivion series #letters to vega #That last one is possibly the most horrific of them simply by the mundanity of the situation passing them right over #like 'Red is upset for awhile because he'd thought he'd done this for Xiaotian himself but it was just a clone'#'but he refuses to leave his parents for nothing so he ultimately decides he's the same person clone or not and goes to seduce him'#and 'Oh surprise Xiaotian feels the same way oh happy ending!'#and 'Mind Control never even entered the conversation because Red Son is acting mostly normal'#and thus 'Xiaotian doesn't think twice when Red says Clone Him found a track to help him with his headaches and to wake him in an hour'#and nobody ever suspects anything because the only person who knew what the music even did is long gone #dark spicynoodles #Mixtape #mixtapeshipping #spicynoodleshipping

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impalementation · 4 years ago

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spike, angel, buffy & romanticism: part 4

part 1: “When you kiss me I want to die”: Angel and the high school seasons

part 2: “Love isn’t brains, children”: Enter Spike as the id

part 3: “Something effulgent”: Season five and the construction of Spike the romantic

“But I can’t fool myself. Or Spike, for some reason.”: Buffy and Spike as a blended self

Before I get into seasons six and seven, it’s worth asking: why would the show do all of this? Why would it spend all of this time developing a supporting villain and joke id character? Why would it give him a romantic arc? I see people say that the writers only gave Spike these storylines because he was popular or they wanted to keep him around, but even that being the case, there was no need to give him the specific arc that they did. It’s more than possible to read meaning into the story that they chose from the array of possible options.

Here is the thing about the id. It’s not actually something separate from you. It’s not a ravenous monster you can blame your weaknesses on while remaining pure and dignified. The id is part of you. The immediate and enduring appeal of Spike is, I suspect, strongly influenced by the fact that the things the id wants are so very human and sympathetic. His foibles and mistakes are often painfully familiar, even exaggerated through vampirism as they are. In fact, it’s precisely because Spike is allowed to show a full range of reactions to love, because the writing is under less pressure for him to do the “right” or dignified thing, that he can at times be compelling in ways other characters can’t. If Spike just did nasty things, his appeal wouldn’t be much more complicated than the appeal of Angelus, who people tend to like as a villain or storyline rather than as a relatable character. But Spike doesn’t want to dismember nuns or construct elaborate murder tableaux. He wants familiar things like love, identity and meaning, even if the ways he goes about getting them can reflect people’s worst impulses.

Which brings us to Buffy, and Buffy’s story about growing up. Buffy is Buffy’s show, which means that every writing choice tends to revolve around her arc in one way or another. And this goes for Spike’s storyline even more than most. In the final three seasons of the show, the writing finally engages with how inextricable the id--and all of its impulsive, inarticulate romantic desires--really is from a person’s self. So instead of keeping Spike at a comfortable distance, both Buffy and the writing begin to take him seriously. They begin to invite him in.

Starting in season five, it’s telling how frequently Buffy herself projects on Spike, rather than just the writing setting them up as mirrors. She tells him that he’s the “only one strong enough” to protect her family, and later assigns Dawn specifically to his protection. In “Spiral” she describes him as “the only one besides me that has any chance of protecting Dawn.” This is a very intimate role that she otherwise only assigns to herself (and which is not really based on pure practicality, considering that she’ll later describe Willow as her “big gun”--yet never gives Willow the task of protecting Dawn). She tells him that he cannot love, which is the thing she fears most about herself. Her protests that Spike is a vampire, and thus cannot express or want human things like love, mirror her lamentations that as the Slayer, she cannot have a normal life.

From the Gilliland Gothic double essay:

More than any of her other lovers, Buffy and Spike overlap one another so often that at times their character arcs become nearly indistinguishable. With Angel, Buffy traveled a parallel path in attempting to master self-control. With Riley, her journey ultimately took her in the opposite direction. With Spike, Buffy’s journey is most closely shadowed, in that her interactions with him in many ways can be seen as metaphors for her feelings about herself.

So now Spike is multiple things. On the one hand, he’s the soulless id he’s been since season two. His vampiric behavior represents a morally uninhibited way of reacting to romantic frustrations, among other things. But on the other hand, his vampirism now also marks him as like Buffy, not merely her opposite.* Nor is he only her mirror in the realm of romantic love. The part of him that is a vampire is the part of him that is supernatural (ie, Romantically larger-than-life), that sets him apart from regular people, and dictates how he can and cannot behave. Just like Buffy’s slayerness. His vampirism is what makes him capable of protecting Dawn, while also making him (supposedly, according to Buffy) incapable of human feeling--again, just like Buffy’s slayerness. Instead of Buffy’s Slayer side being aligned with Angelus, who was an unmitigated evil, it becomes aligned with Spike, who is something more complicated.

*(Though it must be noted that this was a process that began in season four, with the show aligning Spike with the Scoobies by making him a victim of the Initiative. Spike being supernatural suddenly marks him as non-normative, just like the Scoobies, in contrast to the institutional conformity that the Initiative represents. The evolution towards treating the Romantic supernatural as something positive and associated with identity plays a key role in transitioning the show to the more complicated attitudes of the last three seasons.)

This shift in the show’s attitudes towards the id affects how Spike is used. In “Blood Ties” for example, Spike assists Dawn in breaking into the Magic Shop and in “Forever” he helps Dawn resurrect her and Buffy’s mother. In both cases, Spike could be read as embodying impulsive behavior that Buffy is supposed to be better than. Yet both cases specifically involve Spike helping Dawn, who is repeatedly portrayed as Buffy’s human side. As Buffy says in “The Gift”: “[Dawn]’s more than [my sister]. She’s me. The monks made her out of me. [...] Dawn is a part of me. The only part that I--”. In other words, Buffy’s id becomes closely tied to her humanity, even going so far as to become its safeguard. “Blood Ties” ends with Buffy affirming her connection to Dawn, which Spike’s rule-breaking directly enabled, and “Forever” ends with Buffy acknowledging how desperately she wants her mother back too, and becoming closer to Dawn as a result. (Compare to “Lovers Walk”, where Buffy acknowledging her id results in her breaking away from Angel, not drawing closer to anyone). Or in “Intervention”, Spike building the Buffybot directly parallels Buffy’s own anxieties about what she thinks she should be. She thinks she’s losing her ability to love, and that effusive fakery is her only recourse (as she said in “I Was Made to Love You”: “Maybe I could change. [...] I could spend less time slaying, I could laugh at his jokes. I mean men like that right? The joke laughing at?”), a fear that even has some merit, given that her friends cannot tell her and the bot apart. Instead of Buffy and Spike having separate arcs in the episode, Spike learning the difference between real and fake dovetails with Buffy’s own relationship to her realness and fakeness. It turns out that neither of them want a bot version of Buffy. They want real emotion, things like sacrifice and heartfelt gratitude. If even Buffy’s id would let itself be killed for Dawn, then maybe she has nothing to fear from herself. Maybe there is some beauty in the emotional part of her nature that she thinks she must repress.

In other words, part of the writing (and Buffy) fully engaging with romanticism and the id, means engaging with the ways they can be bad and good. There’s this weird thing that happens with Spike as soon as he falls in love with Buffy, where suddenly his actions are more uncomfortable, and to many, off-putting, because their object is Buffy (instead of another vampire like Harmony or Drusilla, who either enjoy the same vampiric things he does, or the audience might be inclined to see as a moral nonentity regardless). His comic id quality becomes somewhat darker and more serious, almost like the way Angel’s early season two darkness becomes more serious after he loses his soul. But at the same time, Spike’s actions are also more intriguing, sympathetic, and even noble...because their object is Buffy. It makes no sense that a soulless vampire should not only fall in love with the Slayer, but genuinely attempt to transform himself into someone worthy of her love. And yet that’s exactly what Buffy inspires him to do. By loving Buffy Spike’s dual nature, and the dual nature of his romanticism, is thrown into relief: it’s something that can be selfish and creepy, yes, but also something that hints at the idea that real romanticism does exist. Something worth feeling romantically about does exist. Thus the writing can at once criticize, say, the way the chivalric mindset conflates love and suffering, while also suggesting that there are kinds of love it’s worth being transformed by. (Meanwhile, Spike’s fumbling bewilderment over how to love Buffy, and what the rules of loving people correctly even are, creates a human middle ground between monstrousness and heroism). By leaning into the way that Buffy and Spike have been used as mirrors for three seasons, and introducing the mythology-bending idea of Spike being in love with Buffy, the writing is able to fully engage with this complicated, contradictory nature of love and romance.

All of which is to say. Spike becomes a potential love interest, and is given a convoluted inner conflict between monstrousness, humanity and heroism, in precisely the season in which Buffy begins to reckon with her own inner conflict between her darker impulses, her human reality, and her supernatural role. It’s no coincidence that season five opens with Dracula, an icon of romantic vampire mythology, tempting Buffy with darkness and promising her insight into her nature. Or that a vampire kidnaps Dawn--again, her human half--in the next episode. Or that the season’s antagonist is a super-strong blonde woman who wants to destroy Dawn instead of protect her. Or that she says goodbye to Riley, the boyfriend who embodied her hopes for a more normative way of being (notice how Riley is progressively destabilized by everything non-normative about Buffy’s life, and provokes those anxieties Buffy expresses in “I Was Made to Love You”). Over and over in season five, Buffy fears that her Slayer half is cold, destructive, and otherwise dangerous. That these Romantic things like gods and vampires have it in for Buffy’s vulnerable humanity. Yet Buffy’s vampire id simultaneously gives lie to these fears by proving itself capable of heroism and genuine human feeling.

In other words, Spike becomes a potential love interest in a season that treats the Romantic--ie the grand and mythical--as something more than just an attractive lie to be disabused of. Rather, the question that season five seems to posit to me, and which will not be fully answered until the end of season seven, is this: once you do clear away the attractive lies, once you accept the hard realities, once you’ve seen the darkest underbellies, what are the things that are left that are truly grand and beautiful? What are the stories that are really worth telling, and the heroes that are really worth having?

And the show asks and answers these questions on both a very personal level, and a more meta, systemic level. On the personal level, Buffy and Spike are forced to confront their illusions not just about the world, but about themselves. They are made to ask themselves what constitutes a heroic role or a demonic weakness, versus basic, unromantic humanity. And on the meta level, the show asks questions about our expectations for how both love stories and chosen hero stories are supposed to go.

part 5: “Everything used to be so clear”: Season six and the agony of the real

#romanticism series #gen #s5 #buffy #spike #riley #btvs

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tricktster · 4 years ago

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So I once again have a lot of new followers, meaning that it’s time for my periodic disclosure that I started this blog back in 2015 to promote *deep breath* my Explicit Sans/Reader Undertale fanfic, Chill or Be Chilled.

If you’re rolling your eyes at that title, that’s totally justified because it was super halfassed, much like I initially expected the whole fic would be. If you’re rolling your eyes at the words “explicit,” “Sans,” and “Reader,” buddy, you aren’t alone, because I never would have chosen that particular combo of content and characters if I hadn’t been up to a scheme to bilk you fuckin’ rubes for all you’re worth.

I’m kidding. Kind of. Like, I didn’t really think that it would ever go anywhere at the outset: I began writing a few months after I graduated grad school and immediately thereafter got incredibly, INCREDIBLY sick, leading to a month long hospitalization that absolutely destroyed my path to get a paid job in my chosen field for about a year (I had to wait months to take a qualifying exam that’s only offered twice a year due to the hospitalization.)

So there I was, recovering from medical trauma, bored and aimless, unemployed, wildly depressed, and suddenly trying to scrape by in my manhattan apartment without a revenue source or student loans to facilitate my doing so. At the time, I was just like “eh, I’ll try my hand at writing fanfic, how hard could it be? and like, maybe i can get some people to donate money if I get enough clicks… and then I can use that money to buy food that isn’t just toast/ketchup sandwiches!!!!!”

What can I say? It honestly wasn’t my wildest scheme; it was 2015, I was seeing tons of thirsty Sans content on tumblr, I’d actually played Undertale so for once I had some context for THE popular tumblr fandom of the time… aaand honestly, I just thought it would be hilarious to write an entirely earnest sex scene where one of the participants was a literal skeleton. I studied screenwriting pretty seriously in college, I knew how to write dialogue and set up a vague narrative arc, I figured I’d write like 15 chapters and maybe get 50$ from generous readers if i was lucky.

Weirdly, even at the very beginning, this plan seemed to actually play out as I hoped? I was only giving it like 40% effort and I was writing absolute fluff for the most part, but I still picked up a few hundred readers and even got a few donations that permitted me to enjoy both pasta AND sauce at the same time!

The thing is, like I said, that I spent my undergrad years writing and critiquing screenplays. I knew that what I was writing could only be engaging for so long without some force driving the narrative, and it turned out that I couldn’t turn the part of my brain that was constantly analyzing plot structure off. And like… I liked writing fiction again. I’d stopped doing that once the 2008 recession turned all the entry level positions that could eventually lead to a writer’s room gig into unpaid internships, forcing me to abandon my dreams and instead pursue the goal of Being A Rich Corporate Asshole. I was actually pretty good at that last part (still am), but I missed writing fiction; more specifically, I missed writing GOOD fiction. I discovered that in spite of my initial lazy intentions, I couldn’t just keep halfassing it.

So, I decided to full-ass it. I began outlining and seriously working on my character development, and since I was the one writing it, I decided that it would be the kind of story I’d actually want to read - sure, there would still be some fluff, I’d still write a few skeleton sex scenes (and I wasn’t wrong, those WERE hilarious to write), but there would also be action and eldritch horrors and quippy dialogue and a billion plot twists down the road that I’d have to earn by laying the groundwork down up front.

Once I decided to fully commit to telling a story, I started having a ton of fun with it, and the quality improved exponentially…. and now, years down the road, I am the author of a 484k word, 176 chapter undertale fanfic that is currently the 884th most kudos-ed work on Ao3, which doesn’t sound that impressive until you consider that’s 884 out of 8,713,596, which puts it in the top .0001 percent. And that, unless I got the math wrong, is a batshit bonkers insane percentile to be in. It took some fuckin’ WORK, my dudes, but as a result I can now say with full sincerity that I am incredibly proud of the explicit Sans/Reader Undertale fanfic that, as one anon once pointed out, I kind of wrote as a joke for an audience of myself?

Anyway, I’m sharing all this because like after years and years of having this information in my head I just managed to FINALLY explain to @wrexie the exact layout of the location that like 70% of the story takes place in - I never managed to shake the screenwriting instinct to keep the location budget manageable - and now I feel like my soul can finally rest. Unfortunately, I was able to do that by sharing google maps photos of a mansion that I drove by a lot in high school, and it seems super invasive to the owners to plop that in a public post, but if you’ve read it and you FINALLY want to understand where all the rooms are in relation to each other, DM me and I’ll send you a screenshot lol.

Also, if any if this intrigued you, you should probably give the fic a shot, the link’s at the top of this post. As I mentioned, the first few chapters are pure fluff, but the plot starts to pick up steam pretty early on… and then you hit chapter 44, the pandering is officially put to rest, and from that point forward it’s a goddamn blast.

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voxofthevoid · 1 year ago

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This popped up in my notifications recently, and it's kind of funny how many of my impressions have changed in the one entire year since I wrote this.

(Side note: While I know how long it's been, it's fucking wild to think I've been into JJK since November 2022.)

I figured I'd write out what's changed:

When the “You’ve got it from here” scene gets animated, I will lose my entire goddamn mind.

Unfortunately, I did not lose my entire mind. I didn't lose even a tiny bit of it. I was extremely disappointed with how that scene was animated; the unnecessary angle change and melodramatic drawn-out tension ruined the whole thing for me. Even the immediate aftermath sucked. Hell, even Nanami exploding looked more comical than gruesome. And while I'll always be sad about that (this is one of my favorite scenes, but at least I have the perfection in the manga), MAPPA did compensate with this:

What gets me about this scene is the way it shows how Yuuji remembers Nanami—not as the exhausted half-corpse who was pulverized in front of him but as he was in life, in the days they spent together. That kind, gentle smile is exactly what Yuuji saw last, but he's transposed it onto how Nanami chose to present himself. Something about that detail just kills me.

Other than vertical incest, there’s no relationship dynamic that’s safe from my gremlin hands.

Oh, this cracks me up every time I think about it. It turns out vertical incest is also not safe from me!! Kenjaku/Yuuji now lives rent free in my brain, and while the Unclekuna revelation hasn't had any effect on my opinion of canon sukuita dynamics, I've found I'm all for modern AUs with uncle/nephew sukuita. I still prefer twincest in modern contexts, but I like that Jin rather than Yuuji is Sukuna's reincarnated twin in the manga.

Now I’ve got like three different ideas that’s a mix of nanayuu and goyuu. If I don’t write at least one of them, someone should punch me.

I wrote a small novel's worth of Nanami/Yuuji and Gojou/Yuuji, in an omegaverse setting to boot, so no fists will be needed.

I have one(1) idea that’s a mix of goyuu+gofushi+itafushi+goitafushi (it’s…complicated), but it’s pretty low on the priority list.

This ended up being fully written way earlier than I thought I would because of the April anniversary project, and honestly, I enjoyed it immensely.

I’ll be frank: I want to like this ship a lot more than I actually do. And that’s mostly because Sukuna is a bit hit-and-miss for me.

I officially like sukuita to the point it's at serious risk of deposing nanaita as my second-favorite ship. Sukuna still makes me feel violent, but his OG form has done wonders to reshape the nature of said violence (read: I want to fist his belly mouth). More importantly, the developing dynamics of the fight between Yuuji and Sukuna have got me straight-up rabid. I'm down bad; I'm down horrendous. Yuuji should eat this man alive.

I do see a lot of potential in this ship for hate sex, except what I’d like to see is a very specific dynamic that I haven’t been able to find—and one that’s complicated enough that I’m not sure I could write it either. I might try some day, especially if inspiration strikes.

Inspiration did strike, violently and repeatedly. Not only has my total number of sukuita (plus goyuu) ideas gone up, but I've also written two fics with it. I'd say I've got the hate sex dynamic I prefer down, so now it's a matter of branching out as the plots demand.

My thoughts on itafushi and chosoita remain largely unchanged. I've also acquired hiita and kenita as ships I like enough to write. The spite-fuelled "get Yuuji hole" mission may increase the list further.

your thoughts on the other (popular) yuuji pairings? 👀

How many hours do you have 👀

I love too many Yuuji ships for my own good, honestly. But I'm not much of a multishipper, so everything else comes secondary to goyuu. Buuuut JJK is also the first fandom for which I've liked multiple ships enough to try and write more than just my OTP, so it's safe to say I like these Yuuji ships a hell of a lot.

Putting it under a cut because concision and I are arch-enemies. Also, I don't want to clog up the ship tags with my ramblings, so before you click through, know that this talks about nanayuu, chosoita, itafushi, and sukuita.

Caveat that I've read very, very few JJK fics, so I'll be talking mostly in relation to canon and my own writing.

Here goes, in order of adoration:

Nanami/Yuuji

Their canon dynamic is so good; I love how Yuuji's exuberance contrasts with Nanami's reticence, and more than that, I love how they're both intrinsically kind in a really similar way, even if Nanami's version has been tempered by the harsh realities of their world. Plus, it never gets old just how much Nanami lets Yuuji get away with—I mean, Nanamin, seriously. He protests once and then goes "well, guess I'm Nanamin now." Amazing. Predictably, Shibuya did unholy things to my poor heart. When the "You've got it from here" scene gets animated, I will lose my entire goddamn mind.

That said, I started out liking them platonically, but well, other than vertical incest, there's no relationship dynamic that's safe from my gremlin hands, so I wound up shipping them sooner than later. Specifically, I wrote a goyuu fic with a heavy focus on platonic Nanami&Yuuji and plummeted headfirst into shipping them, so now I've got like three different ideas that's a mix of nanayuu and goyuu. If I don't write at least one of them, someone should punch me.

Chōsō/Yuuji

Listen, brocon just comes very naturally when Chōsō is involved, and it doesn't help that sibling incest with fuckery potential has always lit up my brain (Sam/Dean from SPN, Vash/Knives from Trigun, etc.). What I like about their canon relationship is the...imbalance that's kind of there, especially at the beginning. Chōsō has family revelations after hallucinating one near-death-experience-induced (and Yuuji's NDE at that) picnic scene and is immediately ride or die, while Yuuji's just there going "???" He's treated complete strangers with more delicacy than he affords Chōsō when they're alone in Shibuya, which makes perfect sense given the circumstances and Yuuji's mental state at the time. And even once Yuuji seems to remember his "mum" and realize Chōsō is his brother, there's the distinct sense that Chōsō's attachment is a hell of a lot more intense and more explicitly connected to the blood relation, as opposed to Yuuji's usual warmth to an ally and friend. And that contrast of complete, immediate devotion and cautious, burgeoning affection makes me want to do unholy things to them both.

Which is why Chōsō is currently getting enthusiastically eaten and eaten out by Yuuji in my Word document. It's not even subtle as far as metaphors go.

Megumi/Yuuji

A friend described my thing for this as a "tiny, doting crush," and it's pretty accurate. Canon sells this pretty hard from the get-go, and something that struck me is that, a lot of the time when you have a shonen hero who's dragged into a new world, it's a female character, usually the future love interest/main heroine/first girl, that does it. In JJK, you have Megumi in that role—fun all over. Also, the narrative is highly consistent about highlighting both of their complicated feelings about their involvement in the other's current predicament. Their interactions are also interesting from the beginning, both the lighthearted moments and the heavier stuff. And the manga panel split between a freshly Sukunafied Megumi and a very horrified Yuuji remains one of my favorites.

Thing is, since canon feeds me pretty well in terms of this ship, I don't feel much of an urge to read or write it. I have one(1) idea that's a mix of goyuu+gofushi+itafushi+goitafushi (it's...complicated), but it's pretty low on the priority list.

Sukuna/Yuuji

I'll be frank: I want to like this ship a lot more than I actually do. And that's mostly because Sukuna is a bit hit-and-miss for me. There are parts in the story where I've loved him and parts where I wanted to step on his face—not in the fun way either. And ever since he took over Megumi, I've been in "step on his face" mode. Their canon relationship appeals to me mostly because Sukuna brings out a side of Yuuji that only Mahito has managed, and their scant interactions while sharing a mind and body were pretty interesting. The blend of hostility and humor was nice, and I kind of like that there's pretty much zero chance of it getting resolved like with, say, Kurama and Naruto.

Anyway, I do see a lot of potential in this ship for hate sex, except what I'd like to see is a very specific dynamic that I haven't been able to find—and one that's complicated enough that I'm not sure I could write it either. I might try some day, especially if inspiration strikes.

Thanks for asking, anon ❤

#nanaita #sukuita #jjk spoilers #jjk meta

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ibelongtowrath · 5 years ago

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Hot Springs - Lucifer x Reader

Warnings // 18+/NSFW, praise in the form of “good girl,” oral sex, female reader Word count: 2.6k

Happy hot springs theme day 💦 Here’s another Lucifer piece about getting eaten out at the hot springs because horny writing brain go brrrr. I hope you enjoy. I am also terrible at coming up with titles

I can’t sleep.

You groan inwardly and sigh, turning your body to stare at the ceiling, your eyes practically glazing over. To your left, Mammon snores loudly; a sound akin to a chainsaw, and something you didn’t even think he was capable of.

“Ya gotta sleep next to me, MC! If any of my brothers even try to touch a hair on your head, I’ll kill ‘em.”

“Fine, fine,” you agreed hurriedly, already pulling the blanket over your head, gripped with exhaustion. “Goodnight, Mammon.”

I should have brought fucking ear plugs.

You roll over to your right side, where Levi sleeps peacefully, clutching his Ruri-chan body pillow close to his chest. You’re pretty sure you can hear him mumbling her name every so often, and your eyes squeeze shut in frustration, knowing that the likelihood of actually achieving a deep, restful sleep is growing lower by the second as you inhale deeply.

With a groan, you rise, feet padding softly across the smooth, wooden floor. Perhaps a soak in the onsen would make you drowsy and relaxed enough to actually be able to sleep through all the surrounding noise. Grabbing a towel and pausing briefly before leaving the room, you look down at yourself. A minuscule, though beautifully ornate silk robe barely covers your naked body; although it was customary to enter the hot spring completely nude, you couldn’t help but feel extremely self-conscious. Thankfully, Diavolo had rented out the entire place for the night, so no other beings were there, save for the demon brothers.

And, thankfully, everyone else was still asleep. As much as you love the demon brothers, sometimes it felt amazing to have a few waking moments to yourself, and the idea of spending that alone time in a steamy, relaxing hot spring? Bliss.

Carefully opening the sliding doors leading to the spring, careful to not wake anyone, you step out into the onsen. Steam rises steadily from the hot water, caressing your face as a slight breeze carries wisps of it towards you. The tension already begins to loosen from your neck and shoulders, taking in the sights of the artfully-placed rocks and trees around you. Slowly, you walk towards the stone steps leading into the water and dip your feet in, testing the temperature. Perfect.

You look back over your shoulder for a brief moment before you begin to untie your robe and open the front. Despite the warmth radiating from the water, a shiver passes through your body at the sudden exposure to the still slightly cool night air. You shrug the robe the rest of the way off, folding it carefully and setting it on a nearby bench, along with the towel.

Knowing it is customary to be clean before entering the spring, you wash off at the bathing station situated near the sliding doors, careful to remove any traces of soap before finally stepping into the hot spring. A deep, satisfied sigh escapes you as your body submerges beneath the warm, tranquil waters. Steam rises up towards you and your eyes close as you sit, tipping your head back to rest against the side of the spring. Your face turns up to the perpetually night sky of the Devildom, the light of the moon illuminating everything around you in an almost ethereal glow; stars, scattered across the sky, glitter like moon dust, looking almost as if they’re sparkling.

“Are my brothers causing mischief, my dear MC?”

The voice rings out, disturbing your fleeting serenity as you startle with a gasp. Your eyes open quickly and you look around in a panic for the source of the mysterious voice before your gaze settles on the demon standing at the edge of the spring, wrapped in a short, blue robe.

“L-Lucifer?” you manage to gasp in surprise. “I thought you were asleep. What are you-”

“I should be asking you the same question, my dear. Shouldn’t you be getting some rest?” Lucifer retorts. He can sense your shock, and he smirks inwardly, keeping his expression neutral.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you mumble. “Mammon snores like a chainsaw, Levi was having dreams about doing who knows what to his body pillow, and I just...wanted to relax…”

“An excellent place you’ve chosen to come to do so, then. Although we are in the Devildom, Lord Diavolo had to have an onsen of our own developed after experiencing a traditional one in your world, in Japan. The waters here are not geothermal as they naturally are in Japanese onsens; however, magic can replace virtually anything we are unable to replicate. The effects are still much the same, as evidenced by your relaxed state before I, unfortunately, disturbed you.”

The smirk tugs Lucifer’s lips upwards, though he quickly replaces it with a chuckle and a cordial smile, his eyes closing briefly before they open again, setting his intense crimson gaze upon you. Realizing you are fully naked beneath the steaming water, the blood rushing to your face and making the temperature of the water seem almost chilly in comparison to the heat in your cheeks. Thankfully, the water is opaque, masking your nudity, though you can’t help but squeeze your legs together and crossing your arms over your chest in a feeble attempt to mask the fact.

Lucifer chuckles softly once more, moving to loosen the strings of his robe.

“Would you mind if I join you, MC? It seems I am in need of some relaxation as well,” he asks, his voice a low timbre, as though teasing in its slight lilt. “Though it is not customary for men and women to bathe together in Japanese hot springs, we do not typically adhere to that rule here. Of course, I will respect your wishes if you decline and wish to bathe privately.”

“N-no, it’s fine,” you stutter in response. “Feel free.”

“As you wish, then.”

Your eyes widen, gaze transfixed as Lucifer finally loosens the knot holding his robe together in the front. The silken, azure fabric hangs loosely on either side, and the prideful demon smirks once more, noting your enraptured attention. Teasingly, he slides the robe off his well-defined shoulders, pausing to tilt his head and flash you a knowing smile.

“Enjoying the view?” he purrs.

With a loud cough and a swallow, you turn your head to gaze directly in front of you, studying the intricate shrubbery and not dignify his remark with a response.

Don’t look, don’t you dare look.

The heat rushes back to your cheeks and you force yourself to tilt your head back, only relaxing when you hear Lucifer step into the spring. Bringing your head back forward, you see him seated across from you in the steaming waters, a wolfish grin on your face.

“I should come here more often,” Lucifer remarks casually. “It is absolutely lovely not to have someone getting into trouble and disturbing my peace and quiet.”

He’s naked under the water. Naked. I wonder what he-

You feel your body tense at the intrusive thought and are unable to stop yourself from groaning softly, clapping a hand over your mouth as you realize you’ve completely given yourself away. Lucifer’s grin deepens, and he leans forward as those beautiful, deep garnet eyes bore into yours.

“You look a bit tense there, my dear,” he coos. “I can offer a shoulder massage if you’d like.”

“Oh, u-um… that would be nice,” you admit.

“Come a bit closer then, my dear. I may be a strong demon, but even I cannot stretch my body that far,” he teases.

Nodding slowly, you rise ever so slightly, keeping your arms tightly crossed in front of your chest and careful not to expose any more of your body from beneath the opaque water. Up close, you realize Lucifer is even more handsome, and you can feel your heart pounding beneath your rib cage, thump, thump, thump. You turn around, back facing him, grateful for the sounds of the small stream of water flowing steadily in a fountain by the spring masking the sound of your heartbeat, loud enough that surely he would be able to hear.

He brings his hands to your shoulders, moving closer. At the touch of his hands and the feel of his proximity, you start. Chuckling, Lucifer begins to knead the tense muscles with careful motions, using his thumbs to work out the tight knots he can feel beneath your skin.

“Uncross your arms for me, my dear,” he instructs. “You are carrying so much tension, and I cannot help you properly when you are not relaxed.”

With a sigh, you drop your arms to your sides, resting them in your lap. Lucifer’s touch is relaxing, satisfying, and you can feel the tension begin to melt from your shoulders as he continues to work the tender muscles. Blissfully, your head drops back, hair fanning out in the water as a soft groan, almost like a moan falls from your lips. The demon smirks as he continues his ministrations, moving even closer to you, though you barely notice the heat of his body nearly right against yours, your eyes closed in peaceful relaxation.

“That’s a good girl, stay just like that…,” he instructs.

Lucifer’s praise causes your heart to race even faster, your eyes opening as you feel your thighs pressing together. He notes your reaction, leaning forward to press a soft kiss into the delicate skin at the junction of your neck and shoulder. You shudder in pleasure, letting out a definite moan this time, finding yourself leaning back against him, your back nearly pressed to his chest. Grinning against your skin, he nibbles gently at first before biting down a bit firmer, his hands continuing their work on your shoulders.

“Such a good girl…”

Lucifer’s hands move from your shoulders to trace a path down the generous curve of your waist, his mouth finding purchase on your now relaxed shoulder as he presses another kiss there. One hand reaches up to thread his fingers into your hair lightly, tugging your head to the side before crashing his lips against yours in a feverish kiss, much like the water and the skin of your bodies. The kiss is deep, intimate; it speaks a thousand words full of want, of need, of dark desire without a single utterance. Your tongues dance with one another as soft gasps of pleasant surprise and arousal escape you and him, your thighs squeezing together under the water, now wet in more ways than simply being submerged beneath it.

Biting your lip and pulling away from the kiss, Lucifer’s hand moves to your bare breast, groping it lightly before rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger, savoring your sweet moans. His cock twitches, already hard and pressing against your back. Grinning, he tugs at your hair again, tilting your head back until you look up at him; eyes half-lidded, nearly glazed over and blown-out with lust.

“Naughty, naughty girl,” Lucifer teases. “I offer you a relaxing massage, and you turn it into anything but. I suppose I’ll have to find another way to ease the tension in your body. Especially-”

He pauses, moving his hands to caress the soft, fleshy skin of your inner thighs, briefly teasing a few fingers between your legs before pulling them away, relishing your lewd gasps.

“-right here. Yes, it seems you are very much still tense. My, my, we certainly will have to remedy that, won’t we, my naughty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you whimper, pressing your back harder against him.

Suddenly, you are teeming with need, nearly keening at the thought of having Lucifer between your legs. In one swift movement, he picks you up, quickly turning you around to lift you out of the water and set you on the side of the hot spring. Feeling the sudden difference in temperature, you shudder. Droplets of water glisten in the shining moonlight as they travel down your body. He grins at your shudder as he begins laying you back gently and spreading your legs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before biting down into the skin, pausing briefly to admire the indentation of his teeth that will surely welt and leave a mark behind later.

“Don’t worry, pet. I’ll be sure to warm you up,” Lucifer says, biting down once more. “Now, lay back and relax for me.”

Obeying his command, you lay your back flat against the cool stone, your heart continuing to thump like someone is revving an engine. Lucifer teases a few fingers between your legs, his thumb circling your swollen clit, eliciting a loud, lewd cry as he does so. Pressing a kiss to your pelvic bone, he gently sucks the skin into his mouth and biting into the skin there, intent on leaving more marks. He moves to the other side, repeating his actions before lowering himself down between your legs to your wet, dripping core, practically quivering in anticipation. He smiles before his tongue darts out, licking a stripe up your core until he reaches your clit, swirling it tantalizingly slow around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Lucifer’s lips close around it, sucking. Your back arches, reaching your hands forward to weave your fingers into his hair. Bucking your hips against his face, he smirks, moaning into your skin and continuing to suck on your clit, alternating between stimulating it with his tongue and lightly grazing his teeth across it.

“Good girl, so good for me,” Lucifer moans. “You taste so fucking sweet, pet.”

Sliding two fingers inside you, he curls and pumps them skillfully to press against your sweet spot. A louder, more high-pitched moan falls from your lips, taking his name with it as it echoes across the otherwise serene tranquility of the onsen.

“L-Lucifer- ah, it feels so good-”

Frantic with desire, you begin to roll your hips rhythmically towards his face, increasing the pressure of his tongue and fingers. Lucifer slides a third finger into you, desperately savoring the delicious sounds of your desperation as he, too, can’t stop himself from moaning into your skin. He laps at your sweet essence, eager to taste all of you, to wet his cock between your tight, warm walls and help ease his own tension between his hips, a fire stirring in his belly.

“Lucifer!” Crying out his name in a wanton gasp, you begin to feel yourself tighten around his fingers. “Lucifer, I-I’m going to cum-”

“Good girl,” Lucifer groans. “Cum hard for me, princess.”

His praise pushes you over the edge, immense pleasure washing over your body in waves as you writhe against the stone, arching your back. Your body jerks forward, slightly, and your lips part to scream in pleasure, his name falling from your lips over and over, growing in volume and pitch with every syllable. Grinning, Lucifer slowly slides his fingers out of you, pressing a kiss to your clit as he pulls back. You whimper at the loss of his fingers, aching for the sensation of him filling you once more. He reaches for your arm to slowly pull you up to a sitting position.

“Now…”

Standing from the water and moving his hands to your hips, he lifts you up to pull you close to him, hips perched on the edge of the spring against the rock. Your bare chests press together as he lifts your legs, resting them against his shoulders. He slides his cock into you with ease, and he groans, tipping his head back briefly at the feeling of your wet, warm heat gripping him so tightly. You moan, fingers curling against the wet stone beneath you as you finally gain the much-need stretch of his cock buried between your legs.

“I believe I have some tension of my own that needs to be worked out.”

#obey me #obey me lucifer #lucifer obey me #obeyme lucifer #lucifer obeyme #obey me shall we date #shall we date obey me #lucifer swd #swd lucifer #obey me fanfic #obey me fanfiction #obey me lemon #obey me lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader

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amaryllisblackthorn · 5 years ago

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a lot of people have this idea that Annabeth's been like, a Luke apologist and in denial since the very beginning but it's not really true?. Annabeth was angry at Luke for his betrayal in the end of Lightning Thief and during Sea of Monsters. It's only until the end of The Titan's Curse that she starts the 'Luke really isn't that bad' kind of thing.

the end of Lightning Thief:

"I can't believe that Luke..." Annabeth's voice faltered. Her expression turned angry and sad. "Yes. Yes, I can believe it. May the gods curse him...He was never the same after his quest."

"When I get back next summer," she said, "we'll hunt down Luke. We'll ask for a quest, but if we don't get approval, we'll sneak off and do it anyway. Agreed?"

She was really angry at him during Sea of Monsters. Her vision from the Sirens does indicate that deep down she may believe she's able to save him, or at least wants to, but it doesn't diminish the hurt and anger she does feel.

"How could you?" Annabeth sounded so angry I thought she'd explode. "Thalia saved your life! Our lives! How could you dishonor her--"

"Liar!"

"I understand you want to destroy the camp!" she yelled. "You're a monster!"

"Because you have none of your own [intelligence]!"

"That's disgusting!" Annabeth said.

"You're insane," Annabeth said.

"Go to Tartarus," she said.

All those above are on the Princess Andromeda with Luke. Then later, to Percy:

She shook her head. "We made a dozen safe houses like this. I doubt Luke even remembers where they are. Or cares."

Even in the beginning-ish of Titan's Curse, she doesn't trust him. When he's struggling under the sky and asking for her help, she's hesitant. It's only when the sky begins to fall that she goes to help hold it.

Annabeth had tears in her eyes. She reached down like she wanted to touch Luke's face, but at the last second she hesitated. "What happened?" she asked.

"Why should I trust you?" Annabeth asked. Her voice was filled with hurt.

Then the darkness above Luke began to crumble, like a cavern roof in an earthquake. Huge chunks of black rock began falling. Annabeth rushed in just as a crack appeared, and the whole ceiling dropped. She held it somehow--tons of rock. She kept it from collapsing on her and Luke with her own strength.

However!! There's a shift in her feelings by the time Percy and Thalia rescue her and I personally think it's because she's aware that Luke 'saved' her life for the time being after Atlas ordered him to kill her after Artemis took the sky -- even though he was super complicit in her being in that situation in the first place. Compare:

Luke hesitated. "She--she may yet be useful, sir. Further bait."

and

"We'll bring Luke back," Annabeth pleaded. "To Olympus. He...he'll be useful."

I don't think it's a conscious parallel on Annabeth's part per se, but Rick Riordan using the parallel to indicate the connection. I think that's when Annabeth discovers that Luke does still care deep down, and that deep down the person that she knows is there. which is fair, because before this point he hadn’t given her any indication seeing as he literally directed Oreius to eat her. that’s a whole ‘nother write-up, though, i think. i digress.

Once she knows this, she starts to view him as someone being manipulated and taken advantage of by Kronos, someone who was able to manipulate Ares, a god, in the first book, -- she's not wrong! He is being manipulated. That doesn't absolve him from his horrible behavior especially towards her, but she understands that Luke is a troubled, traumatized young man being taken advantage of by the evil King Titan, and she's also aware that literally no one else cares enough to try to save him.

like, the language Annabeth uses to describe Luke in the end of Titan’s Curse is the same that Percy uses to describe the demigods on the Titans’ side in Last Olympian.

"You don't believe me about Luke," Annabeth said, "but we'll see him again. He's in trouble, Percy. He's under Kronos's spell."

I tried to wound his men, not kill. That slowed me down, but these weren’t monsters. They were demigods who’d fallen under Kronos’s spell. I couldn’t see faces under their battle helmets, but some of them had probably been my friends.

there’s another callback with the language Percy uses to describe the opposing demigods in Last Olympian. this time, to what Percy says to Luke at the end of Lightning Thief.

“He’s brainwashing you, Luke.”

“You’re being used, Luke. You and Ares both. Don’t listen to Kronos.”

This kid was getting brainwashed—trained to hate the gods and lash out because he’d been born half Olympian. Kronos was using him, and yet the kid thought I was his enemy.

Poseidon put his hand on my shoulder. “Percy, there were only a few demigod warriors aboard that ship, and they all chose to battle for Kronos. Perhaps some heeded your warning and escaped. If they did not . . . they chose their path.”

“They were brainwashed!” I said. “Now they’re dead and Kronos is still alive. That’s supposed to make me feel better?

Percy has sympathy for the demigods manipulated by Kronos to be on the Titan’s sides; he sees them as victims. the reason he doesn’t for Luke, I feel, is because Luke’s betrayal made it personal. I think this is where Percy’s fatal flaw comes into play, honestly, with the personal loyalty. both in regards to the personal betrayal to Percy, as well as Percy’s loyalty to Annabeth (and thus Luke’s betrayal of Annabeth, too). and i feel this also applies, to a lesser extent, to Ethan. but that’s a whole ‘nother write-up, too (one day!)

there is, admittedly, the factor of Luke’s age in comparison to Percy, Annabeth, and most of the other campers. there’s definitely a power imbalance -- especially with Annabeth, which isn’t okay, obviously. so even though he’s a victim and young himself, that power imbalance in regards to his actions, manipulations, etc is messed up and not okay.

even so, Luke is still pretty young himself -- not as young as the others, but still young. like, i got into this series when i was younger than Percy and Annabeth were, so Luke, like most early 20 year olds, seemed very old to me in that regard; it’s only as i got older and closer to his are that i started to really realize that heck he was really young. so while Luke is definitely an adult in regards to the relationship he has with Percy, Annabeth, and other younger demigods -- which he should have been mindful of and makes his manipulation etc very messed up and not okay -- he’s also young himself which is something to keep in mind. like, Luke is only around 19-22? in the series. That puts him at a power imbalance in regards to Annabeth and Percy, in which he's very much an adult in the relationship, but outside of that he's still pretty young! he’s a college kid, which when you’re younger seems pretty old but then you are one and realize differently -- his brain hasn't even fully developed yet. but i’m like, seriously digressing.

my intended point was that i disagree with the interpretation that Annabeth was blinded by emotions and a toxic relationship which led her to make excuses for Luke and unable to see him for what he really was etc,-- because Annabeth was angry at him after his betrayal and had even thought he was different, that he didn’t care anymore. The ‘Luke apologist’ behavior only starts at the end of Titan’s Curse, the third book in the five book series. I just feel like her ... feelings? perspective? position? idk the right word.... is often misrepresented?

she becomes very defensive over Luke’s ‘inner goodness’ and stuff because she’s literally the only one who wants to save him and knows it. she knows what he’s done isn’t okay, but she keeps driving it home that he’s being manipulated because he is! it doesn’t excuse his actions but it doesn’t have to. by the end of titan’s curse, annabeth sees luke as someone terribly lost and no one trying, willing, or caring enough to save him. and like, she’s right when she sees luke as someone who isn’t beyond saving, who’s extremely lost and being manipulated through his trauma and anger -- it doesn’t excuse what he’s doing but that doesn’t make him someone not worthy of saving. despite what he’s done, luke is still her family and she will fight for him. she sees luke the same way percy sees the other opposing demigods in the last olympian and she’s right. she’s not making excuses for him, she doesn’t think he’s done nothing wrong, she’s just not willing to give up on him and she was right. as the child in the relationship/dynamic, it wasn’t her responsibility to be the one to save him and shouldn’t have been, but she wasn’t wrong in how she saw Luke.

like, their was definitely a power imbalance in their relationship and it’s definitely important to acknowledge that, but i feel like people tend to like, erase annabeth’s agency, for lack of a better word, and attribute her desire to save Luke as being tragically misplaced? like, Luke has totally wronged Annabeth and mistreated her terribly, but like...I find her not giving up on him mostly admirable and not pitiable, though like I said as the child in their dynamic it wasn’t her responsibility. i’m rambling though.

mostly this post was made to remind people that Annabeth was angry towards Luke, and rightfully so, until near the end of Titan’s Curse, which is where her defending Luke and insisting he could be saved really started, likely with Luke indicating he actually still cared deep down for the first time being the catalyst. especially since it seems a lot of people give like the impression they think she’s done it from the very beginning? idk ive definitely rambled a lot and lost my main point sometime ago or something. enjoy this anyway.

#annabeth chase #pjato #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan #ab analyzes #i'm kind of expecting this to be somewhat controversial idk #;the last olympian #;titan's curse #;the lightning thief #;i have at least two other related metas i want to write up so hopefully ill get around to that

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starlight-loki · 4 years ago

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The Thin Line Between Life and Death (Loki x Mystic!Reader) -- PART 1

Or, That Time You and Loki Saved the World

Request: is it alright if you do a loki x reader fic where reader's got powers like strange and wields one of the infinity stones and almost dies trying to save everyone? -- requested by anon

Warnings: this is darker than other fics i've written so far: descriptions of nausea, mentions of anxiety, and major character deaths (but not Loki, I promise).

Word Count: 4.8k (hooo weeee man, if I didn't split this into 2 parts it would've been like... over 10k omg)

A/N: For context, please read this headcanon first if you'd like to know a bit more about the reader and Loki's relationship as well as to sort of set the scene for this fic -- otherwise, if you're cool with jumping right in, enjoy! This was so much fun to write :)

Also this doesn't follow the events of Infinity War/Endgame at all; this is sort of... my take on it, I guess you could say?

Everything started going downhill when you began getting visions.

They weren't anything concerning at first, in fact they were almost cryptic, really: manifesting themselves in your dreams in subtle -- almost metaphoric -- ways. First it was simply the colour orange, which then progressed to flashes of amber light at random occasions during the events of your dreams, then it became fire. For a while, fire consumed your dreams nearly every night, burning through cities, forests, and even planets.

The Ancient One had told you from the start that dreams carried messages from your subconscious. They weren't something to be dismissed, even the most simplest elements. They were to be respected, listened to, and were meant to encourage you to shift mentally and emotionally in indescribable ways.

You figured the fire was symbolic for the stress and worry you were feeling, with everything moving so quickly over the last few days.

After all, the threat of Thanos was looming more and more. No longer was he a whispered rumour that was occasionally passed around at dinnertime with the rest of the Avengers. He was an actual threat now, and the Avengers were holding meetings twice a day to try and develop a plan of attack.

He had the power stone. It was only a matter of time before he found the others.

Twenty-four hours before everything changed, a vision came to you differently than all the others.

You were in the kitchen preparing lunch for yourself when your ears began ringing. Whispers filled your mind from the inside and spoke to you in a language you didn't understand, yet chilled you to the bone at the same time. There was a blinding flash of light that nearly paralyzed you, and as you strained to focus your eyes, you noticed a small orange stone materialize in front of you.

The soul stone.

It glided closer and closer to you, and as it did so the whispers grew louder. The lives of thousands flashed before your eyes. Their deaths did, as well. It was showing you the cycle of humanity -- birth, life, death, repeat -- almost taunting you that this seemingly inevitable thing could be controlled.

You gasped, dropped the plate in your hands accidentally. It fell to the floor with an earsplitting crash, and as quickly as the soul stone arrived, it disappeared in a swirl of orange smoke.

Your hands were shaking as you knelt down to collect the bigger pieces of the now-shattered plate. A hand on your back made you flinch in surprise and you instinctively curled closer towards the kitchen cabinets in an attempt to protect yourself.

"It's just me." Loki's soft voice seemed foggy and distant as your brain continued to adjust from the voices and the ringing you had just heard. "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head and sunk to the floor, half in defeat and half in relief that you weren't alone anymore. These visions were growing far too intense for you to handle.

You looked up at Loki, who exchanged an anxious expression with you. His green eyes searched your face, seemingly looking for an explanation of what had just happened to you.

"I saw something," you whispered, absentmindedly gripping the plate shard in your hand tighter. "Loki, I think I saw the soul stone."

His eyes widened as he knelt down beside you and gently pried the glass out of your grip, setting it down out of your reach. He replaced the broken piece in your hand with his own, and you sighed shakily as his thumb gently stroked the top of your hand.

"Did it show you anything?" He asked quietly, and you nodded quickly in response.

"I saw life, death... everything." You felt far removed from you own voice, almost like it didn't belong to you. "It's been happening in dreams too, but I've never seen the stone itself before."

You gazed at Loki, who almost seemed to disappear into his own thoughts at your mention of the visions you saw. You knew all too well about the Tesseract, and the way it had tormented Loki once before. The infinity stones were not gentle to humans, or gods for that matter.

"Do you think this has something to do with Thanos?" You asked, your voice trembling as you whispered. "Do you think maybe he managed to get the soul stone?"

Loki shook his head slowly, but it wasn't without hesitation.

"The soul stone is far away on Vormir. It's guarded heavily. I doubt-"

"Hey, you two okay?"

You glanced up quickly just as Tony stepped into the room. His eyes swept over the mess of a broken plate on the floor before landing on you and Loki, huddled together in the corner of the kitchen as if your lives depended on it.

Tony looked as exhausted as you felt. No one had really slept well in the last few days, but you couldn't imagine what it was like for Tony: he had been staying up until ungodly hours of the morning with Steve, Vision, and Rhodey, trying to formulate a plan of attack.

"Yeah," you shook your head as you tried to clear the last of the visions out of your mind. "Sorry, that was an accident. I'm just... really tired."

Tony gave a perfectly-timed yawn as he knelt down and began to pick up the broken pieces of the plate you dropped.

"I feel ya, kid."

You watched as him and Loki exchanged resigned nods of acknowledgement, and you grabbed Loki's hand before he could step forward to help Tony clean up the mess.

Should I tell him? You asked telepathically. About the soul stone?

Loki gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

Not yet. His voice echoed through your mind like the whispers from the soul stone moments ago, bringing you warmth rather than fear. Until we fully understand why these visions are occurring, I believe it would be best to not burden Stark with any more details. It would only cause more problems.

You nodded in agreement as you pushed yourself up onto your feet shakily. You stepped forward to help Tony clean up the mess, only feel your head spin violently. You lurched forward, grabbing onto the counter as you tried to stop yourself from falling.

"Hey, whoa!" Tony sprang up and grabbed your shoulders just as you felt Loki's arms wrap around your waist in an effort to keep you standing. "Easy there, kid. Jesus, are you okay?"

"I feel sick." You mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to keep the room from spinning. Even with two people supporting your weight, you still felt as though you were going to fall over.

"Go sleep, okay?" Tony told you sternly. You made a sound of protest and tried to help him continue cleaning up. Tony shook his head in response.

"Don't worry about this, we'll clean it up." His gaze shifted over to Loki, who still held you tightly. You could feel his hands trembling ever-so-slightly, and you placed your own hand over his weakly as you attempted to silently reassure him that you'd be okay.

"Loki, make sure Y/N gets some rest."

"I will."

Loki scooped you up into his arms in one fluid motion, causing you to wince as spots danced in your vision. You buried your head against his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to hold yourself together.

Has this ever happened to you? You manage to ask Loki telepathically as he set you carefully down on your bed. He brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face before crawling into bed beside you.

Not to this degree, he replied. You couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped your lips as he gently pulled you close, cradling the back of your head. The infinity stones all have variable levels of energy, but I have never dealt with the soul stone before.

Do you mean their frequencies vary depending on their roles?

Precisely.

You sighed defeatedly, troubled by the fact that -- out of all the infinity stones -- the one that boasted power over life and death itself just had to come find you.

You knew mystics seemed to have some sort of connection to the stones, seeing as Stephen knew the time stone and guarded it with his life. You had hoped, though, that if another stone were to find its way somehow to another mystic, it would be Wong, not you.

Loki nudged your chin up ever so slightly with his fingertips, encouraging you to look up at him. He gave you a warm, gentle smile as he caressed your cheek slowly.

"Rest now," he whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead softly. "I will stay with you, I promise."

You nodded halfheartedly in response. Every cell in your being longed for nothing more but rest, yet at the same time you were afraid to close your eyes in case the soul stone was still lurking somewhere in your mind. Waiting for you.

It felt as though you had only just closed your eyes, when the sound of thunder jolted you out of your sleep. You felt weightless as you opened your eyes slowly, taking in the purple hues of clouds above you. As you felt yourself float higher, you realized with a sickening sinking feeling that your body was still in your bed, far away from where you currently were.

Your spirit had separated from your physical body, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't seem to be able to get back.

You glanced upward as you continued your ascent just as two towering structures came into view at the top of a cliff. The whispers that had filled your mind earlier that day resumed, and you cried out in fear, clutching your head in your hands. It only made them grow stronger.

As flashes of orange began filling your vision, your blood ran cold as you realized where you were.

Somehow, your spirit had found its way to Vormir.

Reaching the top of the cliff, you stepped carefully onto the platform just as a hooded figure glided towards you.

Never before has this stone ever summoned a soul into its presence. A chill ran up your spine as the guardian's voice echoed in your mind, crackling like ice.

Many have sought this stone, but it belongs to no one.

"So why did it bring me here?" You demanded, curling your arms around your middle in an attempt control your nerves. You were vulnerable here. You were powerless without your physical body -- incantations and even the mirror realm would be of no use to you in this state.

The soul stone seems to have taken a certain interest in you. It sees potential... for what is yet to come.

"I don't understand." Your own voice seemed to wrap around you in an endless echo. You instinctively took a step back as your head spun from sensory overload.

You walk the line between the living and the dead, mystic.

"But I'm not the only mystic. There's more out there like me, surely they experienced the same thing? I mean, there's Stephen-"

No. Your breath caught in your throat as the hooded figure raised its head to gaze at you, and your eyes met fiery blood red irises. You turned your gaze to the ground in an attempt to divert your fear and calm your racing heart.

Stephen Strange is already in possession of the time stone, the guardian explained slowly. There are no other mystics who possess the strength -- or courage -- to cross over into the land of the dead.

"But I'm not dead." You protested, ignoring the small voice in the back of your mind that drew your attention back to the fact that you were currently a spirit on another planet, far away from your body. "I... I've been training in the mystic arts for a few years now. Never in my life has anything like this happened. Why now am I suddenly getting visions?"

There is another who seeks the soul stone as we speak, the guardian replied. To your relief, it kept its distance from you. He yearns to own it.

"Thanos," you whispered, feeling a cold chill run up your spine as you spoke his name.

Yes, mystic, the guardian nodded solemnly. However, there are elements of the soul stone that the Titan has not tried to understand. Just like how life and death are two sides of the same coin, so too does the soul stone have another aspect.

You gasped as the soul stone materialized in front of you, hovering level with your line of sight just like when you were in the kitchen back at the Compound. You watched as it began to spin, gradually growing faster and faster, until it split neatly into two halves.

The soul stone embodies both the physical and the spiritual, and thus each aspect is acquired through complete mastery of its respective lesson.

The guardian's words echoed in your mind as you gazed at the fragments of the soul stone curiously. The fear you had felt in connection with your earlier visions was gone now. In its place, all you felt was awe.

As one of the pieces of the soul stone began gliding closer to you, you reached out your hand in an attempt to touch it. It looked so warm, so inviting. You longed to know what it would feel like to hold a piece of ancient power in your hands.

No.

You flinched, glancing at the guarding whose voice boomed in your head. As if to reinforce his words, the shards of the soul stone vanished into thin air.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" You asked quietly. "You said there's a connection between myself and the soul stone, I don't understand."

You must earn it. It does not come willingly to anyone.

"Then I don't want it." You shook your head, taking a step back. "I don't know why any of this is happening, but I want it to stop. I want to go home."

Very well.

The guardian raised his hand, and you felt yourself being pulled backwards slowly, back the way you came.

I offer you a piece of advice, mystic, the voice in your mind echoed out louder than ever. In order to gain the physical shard of the stone, you must lose the one you love. To gain the spirit shard, you must know the path that leads you back to them.

There was a sharp tug around your middle, and you felt your heart freeze in your chest as you began plummeting down the cliff. You squeezed your eyes shut as the wind echoed like a jet plane in your ears.

Remember this, the guardian's voice was distant now. You had to strain to register the words in your mind. The spirit shard cannot be found on Vormir. The fate of the physical shard is being decided as we speak. Use this knowledge wisely, mystic.

An image flashed in your mind of a titan ascending the mountain, towards the top of the cliff upon which your spirit had just stood. You caught a glint of purple, blue, and red flash from his hand.

You gasped, bolting upright as the heavy sensation that accompanied falling back into your body ran through you. You were trembling, drenched in a cold sweat, and you yelped as two hands planted themselves firmly on your shoulders.

"Relax!" Your heart sped up in your chest as you tried to fight off whoever was holding onto you. "Y/N, relax, it's me!"

Loki came into focus in front of you, his eyes never straying from yours as you tried to catch your breath. His hands were steady, but you caught a flash of fear in his eyes as he gazed at you.

"What happened?" He whispered, pulling you into a protective and firm embrace. Your breath caught in your throat as your mind wandered back to the visions that flashed behind your eyes moments before you woke up.

"Thanos." Your voice felt far away, almost foreign to you, as you replied softly. Your trembling hands reached up to pull Loki even closer to you. You were afraid you'd lose control and end up separated from your body again. You didn't want to be alone once more.

"What?"

"Thanos." You repeated again, glancing out the window into the now-darkened sky to make sure you were no longer on Vormir. You couldn't trust yourself. "Loki, I saw him. He's got more stones. He found the Tesseract."

Loki pushed you away, only to wrap his hands firmly around your arms. The fear he had hidden so well moments ago was dancing like fire in his eyes.

"That's impossible," he said slowly, and you weren't sure if those words were for you, or if they were an attempt to convince himself. "You hid the Tesseract yourself, you took it from me and-"

"I know what I did." You snapped. You winced as Loki recoiled away from you ever-so-slightly. "I'm sorry. I'm just... Look, you have to believe me Loki. Please. I was on Vormir, or at least my spirit was. The guardian of the soul stone was there, it spoke to me, I-"

"I believe you." Loki's soft whisper stopped the rambling thoughts that were pouring out of your mouth, and you nearly cried in relief at his words. His expression softened as he took in your torn, distressed expression, and he kissed your forehead softly.

"I believe you." He repeated again, pulling you close.

"We don't have much time." Your voice felt tight in your throat as you spoke. "Right before I woke up, I saw Thanos approaching Vormir. The rest of the stones are on Earth, Loki. I think he's coming here next."

"We need to tell the others."

"Will they know what to do?"

Loki's gaze burned into yours determinedly as he took your hand and helped you up off your bed.

"All we can do is hope."

The two of you raced down the hall, pounding on every door you passed as you tried to wake everyone up at once. Tired groans of protest echoed from within a few rooms, only encouraging you to knock even louder on the Avengers' doors.

"Everyone up!" You exclaimed. You couldn't ignore the way your voice and hands trembled as you made your way down the hall. "Emergency meeting, now!"

The Compound slowly came to life once more as you and Loki reached the end of the hall, and the two of you were met with numerous confused and somewhat alarmed looks.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, effortlessly keeping up with your strides as you made your way to the meeting room.

"Y/N had a vision." Loki explained, taking your hand and giving it a small squeeze in an attempt to comfort you. "Thanos is coming."

"What!?" Bruce's shocked exclamation echoed out from behind you as he jogged to keep up. "We were monitoring his whereabouts, just a few hours ago he was still light years away from Earth looking for the other five infinity stones-"

"Yeah, well, he's managed to get two more," You answered as you sat yourself down in a chair in the meeting room. Loki sat close beside you, resting his knee against yours in a silent gesture, as if to communicate he was right by your side through all of this.

"He's on Vormir as we speak," you continued as everyone took their seats around the table. "He's looking for the soul stone. That's infinity stone number four. He'll be coming for us next."

"How do you know that?" Natasha's question sounded out from the other side of the room.

"There's six stones in total, right?"

Your question earned slow nods from the Avengers sitting around you.

"I saw his glove. He's got the power stone -- as we know -- as well as the reality stone, and now the space stone too."

"The Tesseract was destroyed along with Asgard." Thor remarked, frowning as he took in your words. You looked over at Loki quickly, the two of you exchanging anxious glances, before you looked back at Thor and shook your head.

"The Tesseract was... misplaced." You answered slowly.

Everyone flinched as Thor banged his fist against the table, his gaze immediately shifting away from you as realization burned in his eyes.

"Loki!"

"I assure you brother-"

"I knew it was a bad idea bringing Rock of Ages here onto the team." Tony interrupted pointing an accusatory finger at Loki. Several other Avengers nodded in agreement.

"It wasn't his fault!" You exclaimed loudly. The room felt silent as everyone frowned at you in confusion. "It was mine. I should've destroyed it but I didn't. I just opened a portal and... threw it in."

"Do you know where it went?" Steve asked you.

"At the time, I didn't. I had no idea Thanos was out there looking for the stones at the same time. I just wanted that thing far away from us. It's caused enough trouble, and we didn't need any more."

Loki squeezed your hand and gave you a soft smile as he heard your reply.

"There are two stones left," you continued, glancing around the room worriedly as you thought about the threat of Thanos looming over your team like a dark shadow. "Stephen is guarding the time stone downtown. Assuming he's kept his guard up as usual, he'll be one step ahead of Thanos and he'll already be taking precautions to keep it out of his reach."

You paused, glancing nervously over at Vision. His eyes met yours in understanding, and he gave the slightest nod in acknowledgement.

"The other stone," you continued quietly. "Is right here in this room with us."

A strange humming sound caused a hushed silence to fall over the Compound. You frowned, straining your ears as you tried to listen.

"Does anyone else hear that-"

Tony's question was cut off by an explosion that took out the entire side wall of the Compound. The force of the blast knocked you to the ground, and your ears rang violently as you tried to orient yourself once more with your surroundings.

"This is too easy. Everyone in one room together, how... pathetic."

You glanced up to see Thanos looming over everyone, an already victorious grin on his face as he examined the aftermath of the blast he had caused.

"I would've thought you'd make it more difficult for me."

The stones on Thanos' gauntlet began to glow, and you felt an arm yank you backwards and into their grasp before a ray of purple light blasted throughout the room. You glanced behind you to find Loki, his jaw clenched as he stared in fear towards Thanos, before casting a protective spell over the two of you.

You tried to pull away, to gather up the other members of the team and bring them to safety, but Loki's grip was firm and unrelenting.

"They need help!" You exclaimed in protest. "Everyone's vulnerable, all our defense and weapons are two floors down-"

"You go over there, and you'll get killed." Loki muttered through gritted teeth. "I can't lose you. Stay here."

"But-"

"Stay here!"

Loki trembled as he tried to keep his shield up. Pressing yourself closer to him, you cast the strongest protective spell you knew and placed it overtop of his. Green and gold magic intertwined together, forming a tightly-knit dome over the two of you.

"I think I can get Bruce," you whispered, nodding towards the corner of the room. "He's not very far-"

Your idea was suddenly interrupted as Thanos raised his gauntlet, and the soul stone began to glow.

You watched in horror as every member of your team outside of your protective dome was wrapped in an orange aura, and lifted off the ground.

"No!" You yelled, stumbling forward and pushing your protective spell further outwards in an attempt to save those closest to you. A spark of energy backfired, burning your hands and causing you to stumbled back with a cry of pain.

"I can't get to them," you gasped, glancing at Loki in horror. "I can't get past the soul stone."

Thanos heard your words, and he shifted his gaze in your direction with narrowed eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" You demanded, watching as Steve and Tony, among others, struggled to be released from the titan's invisible grasp.

"Those who play hero only bring more war," Thanos stated, glancing behind your shoulder at Loki and smiling coldly. "I'm putting an end to this child's play, once and for all."

"Let them go!" You yelled, reaching forward in a weak attempt to save your teammates. Your gesture only earned a piteous laugh from the titan.

"You're choosing to play a bold game, mystic." Thanos continued. "By keeping that shield of yours up, you're creating more pain. All you are doing is delaying your death."

"It'll give us more time to plot yours." Loki retorted from behind you with gritted teeth.

"Bold as ever, Asgardian." Thanos smirked. "But not strong enough. Neither of you are."

You glanced desperately over at Tony for any sort of help, but all you exchanged were helpless glances.

"There will be no more heroes," Thanos boomed, raising his gauntlet triumphantly. The soul stone began to glow once more. "No more martyrs. No more humans. Only gods."

"I believe in you, kid." Tony gasped out. "You can do this."

"I can't." You cried out, your heart racing as you glanced between your teammates and Thanos. "I don't know how."

You managed to catch a determined nod from Tony, before a loud snap reverberated through the room, knocking you and Loki backwards.

There was a gust of cold air as Thanos opened a portal with the space stone, smirking victoriously down at the two of you.

"We'll meet again, mystic."

Thanos pulled a now-unconscious Vision towards him with his gauntlet and disappeared, the portal closing as soon as it opened. You lowered your shield to run for your teammates, who were still hovering unconscious in mid-air, only to be stopped by Loki.

"Look."

You watched in horror as, one by one, each member of the Avengers dissolved into ash and vanished before your eyes. Crying out in disbelief, you lowered your protection spell and raced forward before Loki could protest.

"Tony!"

You tried to reach for his hand, to pull him out of the orange aura that held him captive. As soon as your fingers brushed his, he turned to ash immediately.

You sunk to your knees, the sudden silence that fell over the Compound feeling like a graveyard. You heard Loki run towards Thor, calling his name over and over again, before he too fell silent.

You caught his gaze from across the room, and a cold chill shook your insides as his eyes mirrored the same terror you felt inside yourself.

Unable to find the strength to stand, you crawled over to where he sat and buried your face in his shoulder. As soon as Loki's arms wrapped around you, you were unable to stop the sobs that wracked your body. You felt him trembling and realized that he, too, was crying.

"They're all gone." You whispered, your voice distorted through your tears. "Everyone's gone."

Loki didn't reply. Instead, he pulled you closer and ran his hands in small circles upon your back, almost as if he were memorizing the feel of you in his arms.

The sound of your cries echoed out through the Compound and reverberated back towards the two of you, piercing your skin like little knives. You squeezed shut your eyes, hoping that this was all a bad dream and -- when you opened your eyes again -- the Avengers would be right back in this room with you and Loki, ready to formulate a plan of attack.

When you opened your eyes, however, nothing changed.

There was only one infinity stone left.

Everyone was gone, leaving only you and Loki.

Thanos had won.

END OF PART ONE.

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