#look i cannot say for sure that they fucked during the timeline of the show but i can say for certain

[kraniumet]

what if a couple of buddy cops had, like, intense swinger energy? <- ABC network exec sometime in the early 70s

[internetmisfitsworld]

So far from what I've seen, the reboot doesn't showed or mentioned any implications that Makarov and Yuri were former friends or served together in the army. Hell by the looks of it, Yuri looks much older than Mak.

So I'm guessing in this new timeline, Activision probably won't go with that route anymore.

I noticed that not many people saw how much Yuri truly meant to Makarov. I'll go as far to say that Yuri was the LAST and ONLY shreds of humanity that's left in Makarov. Just a tiny piece.

Now why would I say that Yuri was his last shreds of humanity? I mean surely it's not possible right? After all, this is the same man who shot at him, almost blew him to pieces and literally KILLED him at the end.

Well, here's a few hints that I noticed.

(Long essay here. Because why not.)

(I'm feeling a bit emo over the fact that I'm gonna miss these two bastards dynamics.)

1. 1996 and 2011 flashback

He seemed so happy and content with Yuri during the flashback scene. His little smile when talking about the future of Ultranationalist to him. It seemed so genuine I almost forgot this man is a terrorist lol.

Also, it's kinda wholesome to know that these two were always joined at the hip. First, Pripyat then the whole nuking the US army. Must've been one hell of a duo back then to be picked as second in commands of Zakhaev. Well, either that or Zakhaev didn't have the heart to separate them 🤣 (they both shared one braincell).

Zakhaev: No. Yuri cannot go with you for this mission, Vladimir. He must stay here.

Makarov:

Yuri:

Zakhaev:

Makarov: ☹️

Yuri: ☹️

Zakhaev: 😑

Zakhaev: FINE. BOTH OF YOU GO!

2. No Russian

I wonder why didn't Mak killed Yuri sooner when he found out that Yuri was snitching on him to the FSB. Unless he found out about it on his way to the airport, then there was no reason to kill him at the airport.

I mean, why? Why did it just moments away from committing "the most world changing" act? He could've just killed him at the safehouse? There must've been someone guarding the safehouse, so if he wanted to pull the whole "let him suffer till his last moment" to Yuri, the safest way to do that was at the safehouse. At least his guards will shoot him if he so much as stand on his feet.

It makes me wonder if he was having hesitation? It's this complex feelings of the fact that he doesn't necessarily wants Yuri dead but he also doesn't really care if he lives either. He can't have him in his circle anymore due to his betrayal but it will set a bad example to his men if he lets Yuri live.

But he have to kill him in front of his men, so that they know he's not to be fucked with and he's not going soft. He can't afford any flaws. Especially now that he's the leader.

So the plan was to shoot Yuri in the abdomen area, under the pretense of "let him enjoy his last moment", and then count on him having the strength to crawl his way out of there.

Mind you, there's even an unused voiceline of Mak stopping the other from finishing Yuri off.

"No. Let him enjoy these last moments."

Which is bullshit, not to mention how uncharacteristically careless of him to pull this lol.

Because first of all, he and Yuri had fought side by side before, so he must've known just how far and how much Yuri is willing to push his strength and haul ass. He must've known Yuri's stubborn ass will NOT just lay there dying. He KNOWS Yuri would drag his ass up that elevator, hell even the fucking stairs if he have to, just to survive.

Like Mak, my dude, I know the chance of him catching up with you and shooting your ass was low due to him suffering from blood loss and everything, but still, my man, the risk is THERE.

That is dangerously stupid Mak agagaggaa you damn softie idiot.

But yeah I guess shooting up the airport was not the only successful mission that day. I'm certain he must've, unintentionally and discreetly, let out sigh of relief when he heard Yuri survived.

But also another incoming headache. Because he damn sure knows Yuri's gonna go after him using all the information that he knows about him.

3. Blood Brothers

Prior to this mission, we seen plenty times where Yuri gave intels about Makarov to Price and Soap. Some of those intels even sound... too personal. The kind of intels where you need to know him personally to be able to know that much. And sure enough Soap caught on to that during the Blood Brothers briefing;

Soap: Which vehicle will he be in?

Yuri: They constantly rotate for security. We won't know until he steps out.

Soap: You seem to know a lot about Makarov.

And the silence that followed after that lmao. I'm was dying to know the look on Soap and Yuri's face. I'm guessing Soap was hella suspicious and Yuri was pretending not to exist.

Also, I can imagined Yuri's guilt for not revealing the whole truth of who he was and his relations with Makarov.

Makarov had many "friends", no doubt due to his cold, no-nonsense yet charismatic charm. However, Yuri proved to be one of the only people who can adapt to his ways and doesn't cowered, like other people, from his steely mismatched eyes.

An equal. He was his closest friend. His only, truest friend, to be exact. Blood brothers. Brothers whom once bled together, not cause each other to bleed. Brothers whom once fought side by side, not against each other. Brothers whom once saved each other's lives countless times. Brothers whom suffer together, laugh together. Aight I'm getting emo here I'll stop.

Alright back on the topic. So, he must've known that Price, Yuri, and Soap were gonna assassinate him. He probably had the tower opposite the hotel planted with bombs as security measure but when he looked right at them (as Soap mentioned), his suspicion was confirmed.

It amazed me he chose this method instead of having his men snipe them. Not to mentioned he spoiled the surprise too. The tower that Soap and Yuri was in had huge ass open walls, which easily allows them to jump in time. Yeah they could still die from the high jumps but the survival chance was still there. The only reason Soap died was because of his previous unheal stab wound reopening again.

This man seems to really have a problem to kill his former friend didn't he? Like, how did you failed to kill him TWICE 😭✋️ ??

I'm sure his men at that point was sick of it.

Inner Circle dude: Sir, I think we should just snipe them from a distance. They won't see it coming.

Makarov: No, we're gonna use the bomb. But detonate it after I dramatically announce myself.

Inner Circle dude: But sir, that means they will have the time to jump off and survives?

Makarov: JUST DO AS I SAY.

Inner Circle dude:

He really kept on giving Yuri the chance to live. Even more funny, he still referred Yuri as "my friend" (albeit mockingly so but still).

4. Dust to Dust

Oh this mission breaks my heart in so many ways and reasons. Yuri dying, Price being alone.

But most of all, this moment right here.

This and Pripyat, was one of the two moments where he looks most human. It is a rather... oddly unique sight, seeing the big bad Vladimir Makarov, the monster, the terrorist who coldly slaughtered an airport filled with people,

.....staring so painfully disoriented and conflicted at his dead former friend that he just killed.

No doubt, even before he shot that gun, he's AWARE it was Yuri shooting at him. Because, who else. It's only him and Price. But of course, out of instinct, he reacts anyway.

And after all that adrenaline fades away, only then he truly let it sink in that the person he just shot three times, was Yuri. And fuck does it hurts him alot more than that pain in his stomach.

Mind you, at this point Price has already risen up, on his knees, ready to tackle him, and he STILL didn't turn around. Seconds must've felt like eternity for him. Man was lost in his head.

That's how long this man stares at Yuri's dead body. That's how much Yuri's death affects him to the point he loses his focus on his surrounding. It's like in those few seconds, he was having a hard time taking in the fact that;

a) he just killed his only friend.

b) he really is alone now. he just killed the only person who knows him truly, well before he turn into the monster that he is now.

He snapped out of it at the last minute, and even then he seems hesitant. Not because he was hesitated to kill Price but he was hesitated to live.

He knows he's screwed the moment he turns around. He realized just how much he fucked up for losing his focus. It's like at that point he just gave up on fighting. Yeah I know he still fights back if we were not quick enough to continously strangle him but still he doesn't seem to try hard enough.

For the first time in a long time, he was exhausted. Yuri's death drained him of all the fight he had left in him.

Yuri shooting at Makarov is not the only thing that saves Price. Yeah, it helps distract + weakening Makarov.

But I promise you, if Yuri didn't have any meaningful friendship with Mak and was just another random soldier defected from the Ultranationalist, Price would've been dead. Yeah change my mind.

Look at how fast Makarov's reaction time when Yuri shot at him. Mind you, this man just seconds ago was barely able to STAND UP, holding his stomach in pain, clearly suffered from major injuries in the abdominal areas.

The second that bullet hits his right shoulder, he slumped down for like 1 second, lift that gun up, take his aim, and fired that shit up. So pretty much he won't have a problem to immediately turn around and shoot Price as well.

But since said problem was Yuri, and so, Price got lucky.

And now it seems in the reboot, chances are, we will never get to this again.

(Also, I'm aware that there are people who ships them romantically. Which is perfectly fine. I personally sees them as close friends, like brothers. But hey, even I enjoyed Makayuri contents sometimes. So just letting you know that and I hope people can respect that.)

[toomuchracket]

Have you seen that one video of the end of sex where matty looks like he j*zzed his pants? (Awful sentence to have to type but for some reason tumblr wont let me link things off anon)

I’m not too sure about the d word timeline BUT since that was during atvb imagine already being together when it happened and watching it offstage (or maybe bustling around backstage doing odd tasks for the crew & on a whim checking twt and seeing someone in the crowd had already posted it IDK NOT IMPORTANT).

Anywayyy he comes offstage and it’s all you can do not to pounce immediately 😭 sneaking off into some supply closet to give him the sloppiest most soul sucking bj ever while he tugs ur hair and tells you how well you’re doing for d*ddy…. Giving him exactly .5 seconds to recover after he finishes before dragging him off to your hotel room to actually fuck………. I am so sorry but i cannot be normal about this !!

i wrote a tiny fluffy version of this here!! and yes i am absolutely familiar with said video. but frankly i think every time he plays that song you would go nuts with lust lmao - especially if it's the first show you've managed to attend of tour because of work commitments back in london. like it's been a busy day - your flight only got in that morning and you're still technically working, and matty's been prepping for the show/doing promo - so you haven't had much time to yourselves; you had a quick dinner date and catchup together, but there was no time for more passionate affection than a little makeout session just before matty went onstage (and a tiny kiss after his quick change after consumption). and yeah, you want him enough as it is, and then you see him with that bastard red guitar and you're DESPERATE. you know there's nobody at the show that needs to be met and chatted to backstage afterwards, it's a "rest for a minute, get changed, go back to the hotel" type situation, so when matty comes offstage all undressed and sweating and exhilarated and just so so sexy and pulls you into a hug, you whisper in his ear like "i love you, i'm proud of you, and i really really need you right now". and matty pulls back to hold your face in his hands and look at you, rubbing his thumb across your lips; he sees how desperate you are for him and he's like "yeah? you need daddy to make you feel good, princess? got you all worked up tonight, it seems", and you drag him off to a random lockable cupboard you found earlier, getting on your knees and saying "need to make you feel good first, s'all i can think about", and matty's like "fuck go ahead babe". and you don't need to be told twice - the two (or so) months of not seeing your man AND the way he looked onstage tonight have turned you a bit feral, so you suck his dick like your life depends on it, savouring every hair tug and guttural moan and whine of your name and hiss of "fuck, that feels good. so fucking good for me, princess, so good for daddy" that leaves matty's lips. he finishes so quickly that he'd probably be embarrassed if he wasn't focusing so much on stopping his knees from fully giving out, while you sit back on yours and watch in satisfaction, licking the last little bit of his cum from your lip. matty pulls you to stand after a minute or so, kissing you languidly before saying "that was definitively the best blowjob i have ever had. you're insane. i love you, my girl" - there's another kiss, before you pull back and smile at him like "i love you too. and that was only the beginning. let's go home so i can ride you on the stairs in our hallway", and matty's like "holy fucking christ OKAY". and you do! lmao <3

[servenas-inner-fangirl]

Watching Black Sails 3x6

"Now we go find Charles Vane" is still killing me. I so wish we could've seen more of their relationship developing in Eleanor's absence.

I hope Mr. Scott makes it.

Man, Silver and his leg have really been through it. Noo, Madi, don't be mad at him! - God Silver, you really are an idiot sometimes.

Jesus, that looked like the whole rigging coming down for a second.

God Billy, won't you please get on board, figuratively speaking?

So if Teach doesn't agree, but Vane does, how much of that fleet will follow him?

Charles doesn't look like he's having a lot of fun on that beach.

Oh, that woman is actually an important person to Teach and knows stuff about his past, interesting. (Suddenly thinking about how both Teach and Charles have experienced some betrayal at the hands of a person dear to them.)

"Doesn't need to last long"?? Oh, hmm.

So do Teach and Flint actually know each other? Either way, Teach has gotta know that this might be the moment Vane slips his net after all.

Nooo, they threatened her children!

I guess I should see Rogers as the lesser of two evils, but I still don't like him.

God, Jack, you're so conspicouous, walking around like this in the middle of the day when probably half of Nassau is looking for you, aaah.

Idelle's tits are sooo close to spilling out of that dress... not that I'm complaining. Also I remembered her name! (I think.) - Featherstone looks ridiculous though.

Jack is soo pissed that Rogers achieved what he could not, lol.

"I don't want help." Aaaaargh, Silver! "I cannot look weak." Now I guess he knows what Flint feels like. - Madi is so wise though. Listen to her!!

Vane immediately perking up when Flint talks about his plans to reclaim Nassau is everything to me. I'm also not sure who Flint has really come to convince here - does he really want Teach to be a part of this? Or is this whole show just for Vane?

God, Flint giving military speeches is truly so hot.

So had Flint already arrived when Teach was exiled from Nassau? I really need a timeline.

Also Teach feels like a man stuck in the past while the rest of the world, with men younger and stronger than him, wants to move forward.

Yes, Flint has come to take what is his! This feels like two giants meeting to do battle.

"The decision isn't yours. It's his." Oh FUCK.

So this is Flint's angle. That shows an awful lot of trust in a man who wanted to kill him less than a season ago. But I think he's right to do so.

Flint calling him out on his oath. Vane may be a lot of things, but he's not an oathbreaker as far as we know (apart from that business with Eleanor and Teach years ago). But he made Teach a promise, too... that he would sail away when things were done. But are things really done?

Nooo, Charles, stop lying to yourself! - But I get that he was really hurt when nobody stood by him for Nassau's defense.

Ugh, this isn't fair, Flint has been to hell and back, he isn't in fighting shape!

"I read your book." Of course you did, Jack. God, I know he won't be able to talk himself out of this one, but I wish he could. And of course Jack can read, no surprise there.

Oh Jack, you're gonna talk yourself straight into a noose if you continue like this!

God, Anne is going to go crazy if he doesn't come back.

"I'm not that diminished." Hehe. But also: Liar. Ugh, and Charles is concerned... and Flint is awfully nice to him in regards to his failure during the "battle" for Nassau.

"I can't walk away from that. Can you?" OOF. Flint making this not about loyalty, but about fighting for what they (both) want, that's a thing Vane definitely understands. He's really working every angle for this one. (Also, Vane, your loyalty to Teach beginning before you even knew Flint's name is accurate, but you _did_ betray him for Eleanor. Or Nassau's future. Or both. That is very much a thing that happened.)

(Not me writing half an essay in the time it takes them to say a couple of lines...)

Also my friend, who recently only watched a couple of scenes with me, was right: The way people look (at each other, mostly) is insane. That and the dialogue makes this show so intense.

Awww, Jack, baby, you will be a famous pirate yet!!

Wait, so Anne can read? Also I'm so certain that messenger isn't about to get murdered...

Ugh, Billy, can you please stop, nobody wants to hear it.

Charles, will you PLEASE step in before someone (=Flint) gets hurt.

Okay, I did not expect that.

And the expressions on Charles' face are killing me. The internal struggle is real.

Flint going 'Dammit, guess I gotta do this the hard way'. Also when's the last time we saw Flint fight man to man? Did we ever see that?

Damn, they're both good. But an injured sword arm is really gonna be a problem.

FUCK, YES!

Charles really is a much less sophisticated sword fighter, but he makes it up with pure determination. That look on Blackbeard's face is heartbreaking though.

"Take him. And get the fuck off my beach." Daaaamn.

Vane is sad as well, though. He didn't want it to be this way.

Silver, you stubborn idiot! Let them help you! - Aww, she's taking his hand! ;_;

"The burden I wasn't prepared for, it isn't the men. It's him." Oh wow. Okay. I think I need to lie down.

"But I'm acutely aware that I'm not the first one [...] to have been a partner to him in this way." OkaaAAY? Yeah, I get why people are insane about them. - She really is offering to be his tether for him though. ;_;

Max really looks like a queen in her dress. And she's trying to cheer Jack up! But I have a feeling this won't go the way she thinks it will...

"The truth of the matter is, there's been no conquest." Oh Jack, you smart, smart man.

"You don't think I can convey a thought to Anne comprehensible only to her?" I love you, my babies. ;_;

They really sent a single man to fetch Anne Bonny, what an insult.

"I will ensure that whatever Nassau is come Christmas, English will be not it." Damn, Jack is a badass after all. I'm sorry I ever doubted you. (Also do pirates celebrate Christmas? That might make for a great fic idea.) Well played, Jack, well played.

"Their relationship is so volatile" - that is what you're concerned about? This truly is the Silver and Flint soap opera and everyone else there is the supporting cast.

I think right now there are no shortage of villains to take up at least Flint's attention.

So Mr. Scott was something like a father to Eleanor, but couldn't be a father to his own daughter, that's sad...

Oh, Rogers has no idea what's coming for him, does he?

I know we need to account for inflation, but 500 punds seems too little for Anne. And Rogers, has absolutely no clue that one of the women in this room will do absolutely everything to ensure he doesn't get his hands on his target. (This is something Eleanor didn't tell him, huh? Or is that something she doesn't know? No, that can't be...)

Nooo, Max, I was rooting for you! Hopefully this is only for show. (Also when she says "friends and more", I bet Rogers thinks of Jack and not of Anne.)

Oh no, Charles really feels bad about Teach. "Tell me I didn't do it for nothing." ;_;

Vane and Flint being partners is my new favorite thing. Also Vane already knew a portion of that gold had been sequestered away, so that helped. Now you only need to reunite with Anne!!

[creelkobblelaufeyson69]

A different kind of secret

Warnings: fluff and mentions of sex

Note: the timeline is during the first Spiderman!

Y/n had just found out that she was pregnant

She didn’t know if it was a good idea to tell Norman who clearly said after hooking up he wouldn’t want to see her again

They we’re both drunk that night too and well Goblin had taken control over Norman at some point, but she doesn’t know that

She was too drunk to even notice the voice change

Their was a knock on her apartment door

“Just a sec!” She shouts and places the test down onto her counter in her bathroom

She goes over to answer the door and when she did Norman Osborn was there

“Mr Osborn…? What are you doing here?” She asked him

“Please just call me Norman honey. I wanted to check up on you after the hookup. I’m sure I said things to you that I never intended on saying” she shook her head

“I also didn’t use protection too and you mentioned not being on the pill too…”

‘Fuck.’ She says in her mind since what was she supposed to do? Say she’s pregnant then and their?

“I would like to mention that if you are pregnant I would love to be the kids life and yours too…” he says and then looks down

“You said you wanted nothing to do with me afterwards. You made it very clear that you were just using me” she pointed out and he looks back at her

“Y/n could I come in to tell you why ‘I’ said that?” Norman asked her and she was confused, but decided to say yes

He enters her apartment and goes over to her couch

She shuts her door and then goes over to her couch that he sat on

“I was the Green Goblin…” he confesses whilst she sat down next to him

Now when she went to look back at the memory of that night his voice did sound like the Green Goblin’s voice

“I’m very sorry for what he said…” he looks at her and she looks at him

“I would say it’s okay, but it really isn’t” she says and then her eyes wonder to the floor

“That’s understandable. I’m sure it’ll take time to trust me also even if I got rid of him for you” her eyes met his again and she knew he was the telling the truth

“I trust you…” she says honestly and he was surprised

He then smiles

“I’m glad” he says and she then gets up

“I need to tell you something Norman” she starts and he was interested

“Is it that your pregnant?” He asked her and she was shocked

“I mean I brought up the protection and the birth control and how I would absolutely be there for you and the kid. Your also talked too a scientist sweetheart” she chuckles and also mentally face palmed herself too for forgetting that part

“Don’t you want the proof?” She asked him and he said ‘if you want too, but I already believe you.’

She nods her head and then goes into her bathroom

She picks up the pregnancy test and then brings it to her living room

Once she was back in her living room, she showed Norman

Even though he believed her to begin with, he started to cry and the realization that he was going to be a father again brought him to tears

“Are you okay Norman?” She asked him

“I’m okay, it just fully hit me that I was going to be a father again” Norman says as she goes to throw away the test

She washes her hands and then sat down next to Norman

They both looked at each other and the next thing they know, their kissing passionately

It was like they haven’t seen each other in years

Like they were meant for each other

Once they pulled apart, he started to talk to her stomach

“I cannot wait to meet you little fella” he says with tears still leaving his eyes

This moment made Y/n start to tear up with happy tears

She was glad that she had Norman to help her out

[basedkikuenjoyer]

Tilting at Windmills

🎶 "Such a fine and natural sight...everybody's dancing in the lab light." 🎶

It can't be the moon or Bonney would get worse, pay attention. This one's a trip. Because it's 95% of what I expected...then takes a wild last turn I'm still lost on. We fill in pretty much the stuff we kinda knew about Kuma. I like how Kizaru folds in and reinforces his maudlin attitude about his mission. The weight of self sacrifice is on display here and that is naturally something that's bled over from Wano. That concept of willingly giving up free will, individuality for another...you know what I'd say about that. But we're past the point it's worth the time to point out every example of that.

This chapter also takes us on a whirlwind tour of old faces and things that are reminiscent of our own experience with this story. Panel reminds you of the wolves on Upper Yard right? Very cool, it's like seeing a different angle of Luffy's journey which I'm big into. Since this appears to be going longer I hope we see Kuma watching the Moria fight from the sidelines. Speaking of...

I love this panel of Moria and Perona. When we see so many cameos this time it doesn't feel right to say hey, look at them creeping back in, but it's a very cool panel of the pair to be sure. Warlord Jinbei & Miss Allsunday were excellent additions. What I do like is how it slips in Sabo/Ace in a way that'll subtly help out with putting this at the right point of the timeline. Like I said, a lot of this was just connecting dots we knew about it, it's cool but we sorta got what I was expecting? Most of the chapter was just that, then the last panel threw us a big curveball...

Okay...we're not back to Egghead but this is 1000x weirder. No one saw this one coming. All of a sudden, Kuma's grand flashback just met the #1 most interesting character to cross paths with in a flashback. The fuck? This is such a wild proposition, if Ace is part of Whitebeard's crew Luffy is less than a year from setting out to sea. He cannot have a significant moment with Kuma directly. We smartly kept him unconscious during Thriller Bark yes but resolved that at Sabaody. That doesn't mean they can't interact. The tone of that or even if they never do but Kuma has say, some impact on Goa is a total toss-up and the answer can take the story so many ways. It also does not have to be a super big deal.

I'll say my first thought for sure. If we started this flashback with Ginny showcasing the role and end it with Kuma providing a vignette into the one core person Luffy has here, Makino, I'm gonna get very invested from a certain perspective. If he's in that stretch between Ace leaving and setting off himself, running down to Party's Bar frequently makes plenty of sense. Get what I'm saying? Luffy would never remember a big guy that stopped in for a drink one day when he went to go see her.

Like, if you wanted to drop the subtlety...have Kuma stop in and ask her for information. He comes in as Makino is being Makino, humoring Luffy and asking what kind of crew he wants when he sets off soon. To which Luffy rattles off nine ideas you recognize and caps it off by saying he wants someone like her to keep him in line. Maybe reinforce it with Kuma watching the Moria fight, chuckling about how he only needs two more. Show us the last notes of Bonney escaping and Kuma protecting the Sunny.

That's one way you could do it. Still do the same thing getting us back. Or maybe there's a whole fuckin untold story of Goa waiting in the wings that made Luffy the man he is. The playbook is straight out the window now and nothing makes sense anymore.

[eristic-kaleidoscope]

Ringing of the Early Morning Bells | Erisu | Trial 4.3 | RE: END, Jae-Min, KOKONE, Kenshin | ATTN: KOKONE

As Jae-min admits to setting up the tech room, she grits her teeth. She grits them hard as the grip tightens on her sleeve. 

"Are you fucking STUPID? I already lost Eureka, and you were so ready to throw it all away? I know you were not in the right mind, I know you could not remember most and I feel I contributed to it. I cannot lose you too. Those few moments without you were not bliss, I was so confused and scared but I could have relearned to love you."

She looks at END, before sighing. Not at her, no but rather at the situation.  

"I lied. I saw it during the fight with Akito and Jae-min I just was terrified that the tech room was connected to the library so I kept my mouth shut. At least until we knew it was different. I mean, someone could have just planted it to make him look suspicious. Everything lines up with him doing the tech room, the favor he bought on top of the cut on his hand and the bed frame. That clears him from being suspicious. " 

Erisu hated this, she hated this so much. She hated that him being cleared was because someone could have died. Someone else could have been murdered. 

"I trust Mister Tanji alongside the fact that a murder like this would not be in his nature. Remember the first motive? He was barred from helping other people. Not the kind of man to willingly plan out a murder. Same thing with END, and this motive removed a lot of her anger. She was extremely close to Miss Ljunggren, so even if she had say...set the trap I think she would have stopped it as the person probably lured the victim up, as pointed out by Mister Meyer. On top of this, END is strong so why would she need a robot to push the shelf. Another more upfront way of killing would be more beneficial. She can outrun anyone here, she can easily stab someone, and she is well liked enough to be able to probably lie her way through a trial."

Something really wasn't adding up. She tapped her lips, before shifting her eyes to the side. This would surely make a lot of people hate her, wouldn't it. This would surely get her a lot flak. 

"Please, understand this is not me coming from a place of hatred as we have let those things run under the bridge but Mister Tanji we cannot just say 'It cannot be Mx. KOKONE due to the fact they said they were napping.' I need you to think of the timeline. Mx. KOKONE was seen up early in the morning upstairs and they were unattended to from 4:45 to 7 am. That is 2 hours and 15 minutes that could be used to set up the trap. On top of this, they could have stopped at the workshop before, as we do not know the time that the favor was bought."

"Also let's look at the nature of the favor 'For this unit to travel to the library at 7 AM to stand in a specific spot to wait for a verbal signal to pull a rope like object'. The killer did not need to be at the library at 7 AM, actually they did not need to be there while AION waited. Meaning that Mx.KOKONE could have went downstairs when I saw them and then easily lied about taking a nap, but instead they ran into Miss Ljunggren as many accounts had seen her in that area. It was about an hour and twenty minutes till Mr. Tanji saw them meaning they could have ate a meal with the victim, went up stairs and gave AION the verbal queue. Then left in a hurry, and finally giving themselves an alibi by talking to the one person who would defend them until the end of time."

Her breathing shudders slightly, almost out of nerves.

"Please prove me wrong. Just show definitive evidence that you were actually napping. Let someone here say they saw you on the way to your dorm. But at this moment, you are the only person who fits this description." 

[charnelhouse]

darlin'

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Wordcount: 4k Warnings: rough smut. violence. almost sexual assault (but nothing in detail). me probably knowing nothing about this. Srs hurt/comfort. references to suicide. Summary: You are another means to an end. He needs a second pair of hands and you have the face to distract scavengers and the guts to kill people who need to be put down. A/N: not sure about the timeline between joel and tommy splitting post-outbreak. I’m really playing fast and loose with canon here since joel is on the move with the reader and not stuck in one place. Hopefully his characterization is somewhat on point.

It’s not like you fall into Joel’s lap. It’s a gradual process where you’re in separate packs of hunters that inevitably dwindle to a few lonely pairs. You’re maneuvering around each other in the same snuffed-out city. The only source of lights is in sewer tunnels. There are familiar faces in the dark. 

One night, both of your groups are cornered in an empty factory by a crowd of infected. It’s silly. A foolish way to lose, but you do. Everyone but you and Joel get bitten, and you feed your friends a bullet. Joel does the same.

Then it’s an awkward stare-off. You think of killing the silence with a dry remark, but nothing about the beefy, stern-looking man in front of you seems dry. 

You recognize him just as he recognizes you. You’ve seen each other during a few trade-offs. Now - you really fucking wish you’d said hi. 

"You need a partner,” you tell him bluntly. Your voice only wavers a little, but as soon as the words leave your mouth, his brows raise in what you think is incredulity. You change course. 

“I need a partner,” you clarify. “I need someone to watch my back. You can’t survive out here in a party of one.”

He frowns, scraping a calloused hand over his beard. You think he’s ready to say no, so you reach back into your coffers to grasp something else to offer him. We have guns.

Bingo.

He finally straightens. His eyes are clear and brown as espresso grounds. Long, girlish lashes. “Show me.”

It’s been five years since the outbreak. 

***

Joel has these dreams where all of his hair falls out. Sometimes it’s his teeth.

In the very corner of his brain, he recalls that there’s symbolism there.

You’ve forgotten something. You’re forgetting. 

He goes and goes and never stops. He does not stop because if he does, all he will have is quiet air and memories. Sarah. The greasy splatter of blood on his chin and beard and how he didn’t notice until days later. He scrubbed his skin until it hurt and turned pink as raw chicken.

What did you do? What did it cost?

Joel cannot find it in him to regret the things he’s done. He lives somewhere in his chest. Not his head - never his head. He doesn’t know what to do with all that emptiness. He wants to fill his nights with something other than the stars or a campfire or a popcorn ceiling in an abandoned house. 

I survived. I did what I had to do in a dead, dead world. 

You were right. He couldn’t do it on his own.

You are another means to an end. He needs a second pair of hands and you have the face to distract scavengers and the guts to kill people who need to be put down. 

He was gonna say yes even before you brought up the guns. 

***

You’ve become incredibly intimate with his back. He always walks ahead of you, so you trace the broad line of his shoulders and the molasses-dark curls that cover his scalp. You long to draw patterns in the suede of his sand-colored jacket. 

You familiarize yourself with his tells and what it means when he stiffens, hunches or relaxes. His knuckles turn white with how hard they wrap around his gun when he’s somewhere he can’t see all four corners.

He barely speaks. It’s like trying to squeeze water from a stone. Joel is a fucking boulder or maybe a bullet.

A month on the road, you spot a family wailing for help. They’re dragging something that looks suspiciously like a body, and Joel curses. “They’ll have a whole fuckin’ pack on our ass.” He checks his guns, and you think he’s going to shoot them because now their problem is his. 

“They have children,” you whisper.

“They’ll kill us,” he replies matter-of-factly. “Kill us or try and take what’s ours. It’s how it goes.”

“That’s it then?”

He remains silent, dragging his thumb along his chin before readjusting his pack. “You’re free to go play Mother Teresa, but I ain’t helping you. I’m headed North, and that’s the end of it.”

He does leave. He storms off, slipping between the trees that line the charred highway. You wait for a second out of spite before chasing after him. He hasn’t gone far. In fact, you think he deliberately slowed his steps so that you could catch up.

***

Joel asks you to play damsel. Supplies are running low. There aren’t many towns nearby, so when a small group of scavengers draws near, you go. 

You were never a good actress, but your grief is real. You’ve honed and carved it until it became a weapon. You run toward them with your eyes wide and wet with fear. You choke down sobs that churn from some lost place inside you. Your dead family. Your dead friends. Your dead future. RIP to all that. 

Of course, the hunters accept you, their beady little stares cataloging your body under layers of cotton and denim. They lead you into their temporary camp and start a fire. They wrap a blanket around your shoulders that smells like mildew and loam. Just as you suspected, their comforting words begin to have double meanings. 

We can’t just give you these things—shelter costs somethin’. 

Don’t worry, your pretty head, we’ll keep you safe. 

C’mere. 

Your palms are damp with sweat. You nod, swallowing a weight. You’ve done this before, but Joel usually turns up before they start getting familiar. Maybe he's unsure. Maybe, there are too many. 

Where’s Joel? 

It rings through your head. Your ears buzz. 

He’s there. You know it. He’s watching and waiting and - 

One of the men grips your knee before sliding it up further. He chuckles softly, and you dig your nails into your palm and chew the inside of your mouth. 

You remind yourself that this is all part of the plan. You have it down. Act helpless. Get them in a vulnerable spot. Joel enters stage left and makes quick work of them. He’s probably biding his time.

“Now - maybe we can come to -”

Where’s Joel?

Your heart is thudding in the cage of your ribs. It’s in your throat. 

“Did you hear what I said, girl? How about -”

The man grunts. There’s a handle sticking out of the top of his skull. He sputters before his eyes roll back and then Joel is there, ripping that blade free and giving you a quick jerk of his chin.

“Stay behind the trees,” he orders before descending on the rest of them. 

“Where the fuck is my gun?” the bald one roars as he digs through his pack. 

“Mine’s fuckin’ gone, too,” a lanky blonde yells. 

Smart Joel. He must have snatched what he could while they were distracted. 

As you slip behind a tree, you turn to watch the rest of the carnage. You think it’s in the bag up until the big bald fuck manages to knock Joel to the side so that his shot misses. 

Joel up again, which is something he had constantly branded into your head. Never stay down. You’re right fucked if you stay down. 

Joel keeps fighting. He’s broad and full of a rage that ripples out of him and shakes the air. The punches he deliver are devastating. The skill he has at killing is a privilege to watch. He is an exploding star hurtling to the earth. A bull barreling through concrete. He’s older than you, but it doesn’t slow him down. Not at all. 

You remain low in the trees just as he instructed. Your chest tightens when the lanky blonde socks Joel’s face so hard that his jaw audibly clicks. It doesn’t seem to break his stride because he disposes of him quickly, whipping out a switchblade that he plunges between the blonde’s ribs. Then he’s onto the next one. He’s barely using his guns.

Bullets attract infected. 

They’re also precious. Finite supplies.

Right. Good thinkin’, girl. 

The sounds coming from the fight are a sharp blend of sawed-off grunts and insults. Joel is the only silent one as he cleaves his way through the chaos. It’s intimidating. It’s unreal.

Something moves on the ground. 

The blonde he’d stabbed is still alive, wiggling like a snake. He’s crawling onto his knees, red-soaked fingers shakily grasping his discarded shiv from the dirt.

“Joel,” you yell, but not loud enough. He’s too busy with the bald shithead whose red face is straining as he tries to sloppily defend himself against your partner. The man on the floor rises, arm cocked to deliver a stab to Joel’s lower back and you move without thinking. You sprint forward and tackle him to the floor, arms snagging firmly around his throat. There’s a startling pain in your side before it dissipates. You rely on adrenaline to drive you to the second act.

Quickly, you yank your pocket knife from your jeans and pierce the man’s throat. He squeals before it turns wet. You draw the blade out and bring it down again. It’s not easy and requires all of your strength to break flesh.

It’s unnerving. You’ve killed before, but this disturbs you. He squeals again, but it’s muffled. He choked and snorts.

This little piggy…

Somewhere Joel’s voice sings in your head:

Don’t think. Just kill. 

The blonde shivers under your weight, palms slapping out at mud before he curls his fingers into trampled weeds. He takes one final rattling breath and goes still. 

You scramble back on your ass, heels kicking up dirt as Joel whirls around to stare at you. His expression is incredulous and it doesn’t fit his face. It’s alien and wrong. He’s usually far too confident and cautious. He knows all outcomes, but this? You saving him? No - he did not expect that. 

Joel blinks before carefully stepping over the dead man. He moves toward you, lowering himself so he can meet your eyes. He touches your cheek. “You ok?”

“Fine,” you mumble. “Fine - he-he was gonna -”

“I know,” he finishes and it almost sounds like a thank you. 

He grabs your wrist forcing you up. “Let’s do this quickly,” he instructs, gesturing to the backpack, tents, and assorted supplies. It’ll be a good haul. 

You nod, already forgetting about the pulsing cut beneath your ribs.

***

You must be getting sick. Your palms feel like weighted lead. Your steps are slow and clumsy. Your skin is screaming hot, and it takes Joel two full days to notice. You’ve stopped in a deserted garage on a lone suburban street. A stale, sweet smell comes from the door that leads into the house, and you don’t want to open it. 

Joel searches through boxes and plastic cases while you lean heavily against the cool garage door. He glances at you before doing a double-take. Perhaps, it’s obvious - even in the dark. Perhaps - this is the first time he has truly looked at you since they’ve stopped walking. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’,” you mutter even though your head may topple off your neck. Fuck. 

Abruptly, he straightens and strides toward you. You catch him rolling his eyes before he stops short. He grasps your face with surprisingly gentle hands. He inhales sharply. “Jesus,” he hisses. “Goddamnit, girl, you're burning up.”

You blink at him, and even that is a chore. Your lids are so heavy, each individual lash stings. You lick your lips. “Mm’ok.”

Without another word, he wraps his arms under your thighs and picks you up bridal-style. “Joel,” you wheeze, your arm flying around his thick neck. The short hairs at the nape tickle your skin. “It’s fine.”

“Quiet.” He grunts before kicking the door open and hauling you into the raw darkness of this deserted house. 

“Fuck,” he mutters and places you on the counter. “I’m gonna secure the perimeter…should have done it before hauling ass in here.”

He seems on edge.  He doesn’t usually forget shit like that because that shit will get you killed.

You nod before leaning back into the wall. Your head bumps against a cabinet and Joel has the nerve to tell you to be careful. 

After a few minutes, he returns. 

The kitchen is surprisingly clean. His gaze darts around the space before he picks you up and takes you to the second level. You can hear his boots making soft thumps in carpet. You can see framed photos on the walls. Finally, he settles you on a dusty queen-sized bed. 

“Think it’s a cold? The flu?”

In the current world, it could be any number of things. Regardless, you’re beginning to realize what this is. You’d avoided checking it out. You’d buried its burning ache. The knife - the metal. It had to have been dirty. 

Had you cleaned it? Were you too busy wanting to help Joel sift through everything that you’d ignored it? How fucking stupid could you have been?

You shake your head. 

“You gotta work with me here,” he urges, a brush softer. “What hurts?”

Sighing, you roll onto your side and pull up your shirt. Joel sucks in a breath. Even now it’s throbbing insistently. Feels hot. It had been so small. 

You’d forgotten that small, open wounds can lead to fatal infections. 

Joel’s hand rests on your hip, a fingertip drags lightly under the puffy flesh and you flinch. It smells like something sick. 

“Guessing by your silence, it’s bad.” You try to laugh and it cracks like peanut shells. 

“It’s not good,” he replies carefully. “You need antibiotics.” 

You’re too scared to inspect the wound. You can imagine it: oozing pus, streaking, swelling, beating like it has its own heart.

“Did you get this during the fight?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, pressing your cheek into the cold blankets. 

“And you didn’t clean it?” Joel’s tone rises. You guess that he’s keeping a tight lid on his anger. 

“Forgot.”

When he says nothing, you glance at him over your shoulder. His nostrils flare. He’s flexing his jaw. His hands are fists at his sides, but his dark eyes remain on you. He’s thinking, perhaps trying to decide if it’s worth scolding you or ripping you a new one.

What would it matter if you’re already dying?

He takes a deep breath, shakes his head, and abruptly swings his backpack off his shoulder before crouching to the floor. He unzips it and rummages. “Alright, I can clean and bandage it, but you’ll need antibiotics - somethin’ like doxycycline or amoxicillin. May be able to barter with a few people up near Asheville, but that means I’ve gotta leave you for a day, possibly two.”

You freeze.

What?!

Frantically, you twist around to face him. “I’ll-I’ll be alone?”

He sits down on the bed, touches the back of his hand to your forehead. His mouth tenses at the level of heat, but he keeps it there. It’s the most intimate thing he’s ever done.

“This is your life on the line, darlin’.” He runs his other hand through his unruly hair. He keeps his eyes on the floor. “I’ll lock the house down.”

You snort. There is no such thing as locks anymore. Zero law. Break a window. It’s enough. 

“There’s no one around here,” he adds pointedly as if reading your mind. “Everything’s been picked clean. I’m sure you’re safe.”

He doesn’t promise it. You’re not sure he’s good at promises.   

Everything smells weird. Like old fruit. 

“Bye,” you mumble as he reaches for his gauze and tends to the cut.

“Haven’t left yet, hon.”

“But you will.”

He clears his throat.

***

Joel moves fast. He doesn’t stop. 

That wound had been festering for days. How did you even fucking walk that far with it? How could you not treat it or ask him to?

He wants to shake you for being so stupid. He wants to watch you wither and die from the injury so that you learn your lesson.

But I’d bring you back. I’d pull you out. 

Joel feels something hard lodge in his throat. The trees are green and full of shadows. The highway is marked by broken cars and a few scattered bones. 

You’d saved him. You’d gotten hurt saving him.

He really doesn’t enjoy the fact that you’ve slipped your way inside him. You’ve wrapped those nimble little fingers around his ribs and ripped them an inch. He’s creaking. He’s old and getting older and the world is fucking dead. It’s just a rotting corpse and Joel really likes when you sing. Sometimes, they’re just on the road and you’ll start murmuring a tune from the forties or the seventies. You have this soft, breathy tongue for old love songs. Ella Fitzgerald. Billie Holiday. Judy Garland. Dolly Parton. 

He can’t stop thinking about your expression when he left. Your eyes were wide with fear, your lower lip trembled as you called after him. You were too weak to sit up. You reached a hand out before dropping it as if it was too heavy. Inexplicably, he rushed back to your side. “I will come back,” he declared.

“Are you sure?” 

He stroked your hair just once. He lowered his face to yours. “I will.”

***

Joel kills for the antibiotics. He won’t tell you that even though he’s sure you already know his game. He’s ruthless. He has to be. He didn’t have time to barter. 

He returns to you as quickly as he can. He’s shocked at his timing. It’s only been twenty-five hours when he bursts back into the house and runs up the stairs. In the daylight, he realizes that there are bodies in the living room. Pill bottles on the antique coffee table. Stained carpet. The corpses are mummified. He’d left you in a tomb and that makes his stomach turn over. 

He’ll clean them up before you come downstairs. You will. You’ll be fine.

He’s almost relieved when he finds you still in bed, but when he gets closer, he blanches. You’re seemingly worse, drenched in sweat and shivering. He folds himself over you, hands on your face as he tilts it up. Your eyes can’t focus on him. 

“Hey,” he says, slapping you gently. “Sweetheart - I’m back. I’ve got the medicine.” He reaches around and presses his hand to the wound. It’s hot as an oven, sticky as a melted sweet on pavement. He can smell the infection and he grimaces. “Let’s turn you around.”

He manages to cradle you against his chest before dripping water into your mouth drop by drop. You lick at it, whimpering as the dry skin of your lips cracks. He wets an old towel and lays it on your forehead. He feeds you tylenol and antibiotics. He cleans the wound and worries when you don’t wrench yourself away from his touch. It should sting fiercely, but the pain is diluted beneath the fog of fever.   

He cares for you and then waits. It’s a little too similar to when he’d stay up with Sarah when she couldn’t breathe right due to bronchitis or unable to keep medicine down because of a stomach bug.

Let me save you. He thinks. Let me save you this once. He has to seal the memory of Sarah away because it’s too much. It’s agony. He shudders as if he’s placed his fingers on a screaming tea kettle. It wrecks him. He can’t fall apart when you’re already half-gone.

***

In the middle of the night, you touch his jaw, scrape your nails across his beard. “You called me darlin’,”  you slur. “Sweetheart.” 

“I did,” he confirms as he circles your wrist with his hand. He could squeeze it and it’d break. “Now - sleep.” 

You pull his arm down to your face, nuzzle your cheek against the cool metal of his watch. It startles him, but he doesn’t pull away. 

“Joel,” you repeat. 

“G’night, honey.”

He doesn’t know why he called you that the last few days. Darlin’. Honey. Sweetheart. He’s never done it before. 

***

That event changed things. It shifted the air between you. You’d saved Joel’s life and he’d saved yours in return. In all respects, it should have kept their relationship on equal ground. One action had canceled out the other. A debt repaid. 

But, it’s different. He is different. He’s always watching you. A bit more protective. A bit more anxious. Sure - he trusts you to handle yourself, but he wants you not to need to handle yourself. 

They’re on the road and it’s getting colder. He has people they could rely on for a few weeks of shelter, but it’s a trek. 

“I say we make it to California,” you grumble as your boots catch on half-melting frost. “Hawaii.”

“Let me build a boat real fast, then.”

It’s all so much of the same. Walking. Supplies. Ammo. Food. Laundy. River baths. Medicine. Holing up in deserted, dusty homes that still reek of family ghosts. 

Then there’s the tension between you. The knot of things unsaid tugging you closer. 

You think about him all the time. The shape of his face and the hook of his nose. The jawline. The big brown eyes and thick, umber hair. He’s so big and bulky and protective and, if you could, you’d huddle inside him. 

Let me bury myself there all winter. Let me seek your heat. 

It comes to a head because it’s inevitable. In a strange house on a strange street near North Carolina, Joel shares a bed with you. Nothing is different. Nothing at all. You roll toward him and place your hand on his chest. He jerks, but doesn’t remove it. His heart is pounding furiously beneath the cotton.

He utters your name gently. You watch his lips fold around the letters. 

“You almost died today.”

He snorts. “No - I didn’t.”

Alright - he didn’t. It was only a small scuffle. One gunshot for a backseat of supplies.

But you wanted a reason. Needed a reason to touch him like he had touched you when you nearly died. 

“You could’ve,” you reply stubbornly.

He huffs a laugh. “I ain’t dyin on you anytime soon.”

“I know.”

You dig your fingers into his chest, rub them deep until you feel his hand slide over your thigh. He squeezes the meat of it and you wriggle under the covers.

“You sure?” he asks, voice hoarse. He sounds nervous. Good.

Lazily, he turns on his side, his hand wanders up your leg. He hauls you closer so that you’re intertwined, tangled up in limbs. He presses his cheek to yours and curls his fingers behind the crotch of your panties before sinking two of them inside your cunt. 

“Oh,” you gasp, clawing at his hair. “Fuck.”

He moves deliberately, stroking your walls until it begins to smart like a bruise. His thumb finds your clit and he teases it, circles with a calloused trigger-happy fingertip.

“Is this what you want?” he murmurs despite it just being the two of you and there’s not a soul for miles except maybe the dead spirits in this house. A happy family. A dog. Gone. 

You grip some of his t-shirt and tug it, thighs opening around his hand. You rock down on him as he plays you like his six-string.

You push at his boxers, reach for his cock. It’s hot in your palm. Full and throbbing just like that wound on your side that sewed you both together. He grabs your chin and holds it still. “Tell me,” he demands. “Is this what you want?”

Do you want me?

You nod, chewing your lip as he adds a third finger. He stretches you open. He readies your sex. 

“You, Joel,” you reply to seal the truth of it. “You.”

He lowers his head and captures your mouth. Joel kisses you senseless, his tongue sweeping behind your teeth and making itself at home. He drinks, his beard scraping your chin raw. He tastes like leather and ammunition. Sweat. Wood. Generic shampoo. He lifts his head to catch his breath.

“Alright, darlin’.”

***

It is a smoother coupling than you expected. You didn’t think he’d kiss you. Before, you assumed that if this would happen, it would be a cold fuck in the form of stress relief. Not this. 

He groans against your teeth. You clasp the back of his head and his soft curls. His rests his forearm beside your face as he bears his weight above you. You watch the muscles in his jaw work with every thrust. The vein in his throat tenses. His chest hitches and you can’t help but lick a clean line up his sternum.

He likes it. His lungs rumble.

His hand slides between them, parting the lips of your cunt to press and tease your clit. Your pussy is wrapped around his length. He drives to the end of you before easing back until only the tip remains. He pushes in again so that you feel every ridge of him. Again. Again. You can hear your body take him. It echoes in the room.

You’re tearing me apart. You’re splitting me. You’re branding me. I can’t breathe. 

Do it again. 

“Wider,” he urges as his whole body trembles. “Lift your ass for me.”

You do and the angle allows him to plunge deeper.

You know he’s trying hard to fuck you like it doesn’t mean something. He’s rolling his hips and pinning your wrist to the mattress and it feels like the fat head of his cock is punching the bottom of your lungs. It hurts a little and meaningful sex shouldn’t hurt like this. Or maybe it should. Maybe, that's the damn point. You're close to tears because it feels so good and so much at the same time. You can’t help clenching around him, coming like a fountain as he punishes you with another harsh stroke. 

“Darlin,” he says in a voice that stings like gravel. It’s one sweet thing given between grunts and groans and the wet slap of skin. It’s all he can offer. He traces the cut along your ribs that hasn’t yet scarred over. He pets it with his thumb as he stares at you intently.

“Say it again,” You bring your knees to his waist, skate your nails down the muscles of his back. 

The corner of his lips twitch. “Darlin,” he offers before lowering his mouth a breath from your own. “Darlin.”

[bellafragolina]

(Chatting)

Things I would do to mess with Jubilife Village if I got isekai’d

-Have my starter walk around with me when I am in the village. No matter which evo stage.

-Customize my Pokeballs so I can tell who is in what.

-Get my hair dyed every two weeks to fit into the crazy haired world, Beni has green so…

-Fly or ride any of my own Pokémon that are big enough cause this isn’t a game.

-Find out whether they are cartoonish or realistic like the Detective Pikachu movie.

-Learn Kalosian even if most regions spoke English, might as well learn a new language in between surveying.

-See if my psychic type Pokémon can translate what my team is saying. Learn how to use Aura so I can do so on my own no matter how hard.

-Act like I can understand my Pokémon word-for-word around any D/P Clan members. I can fuck with them too and Ingo is always in sync with his Pokémon so they’ll think it’s normal.

-Have any Pokémon that is smart enough to go get groceries which includes paying for them.

-Talk with Beni about different recipes if he truly can’t make anything other than potato mochi.

-Give every kid their first Pokémon that is a safe species cause I am playful not stupid.

-Learn under Captain Zisu to teach my Pokémon what should be egg/tm moves. Plus if I have to save another timeline I can use that.

-Kick the Security Corps into gear on having stronger partners even if this comes to kick me in the butt during banishment.

-Have the various Corps communicate better so the Surveyors don’t have to play errand person.

-Figure out which regions various Galaxy Hall workers are from and find out why they chose to come here. Not really mind-screwy I would just be genuinely curious.

-Gift Captain Cyllene various items Bug Type Pokémon produce. Honey from Combee, Silk rope from Wurmple line, some spare rock shards from Kleavor, and maybe shed Scyther scythes. (I won’t be poking fun at her bug-type fear who knows the horrors she has seen them do. Just showing their usefulness.)

-Practice Contest routines so my Pokémon can get down the more agile move combos.

-Go shiny hunting for any species I want. Doubt they live long back then due to bright colors.

-Adopt Lian and Sabi as my kids/siblings (depends on if I am de-aged which one) cause they should be allowed some fun. I know both have serious duties as wardens, but they look to not even be young teens so young…

-Organize a semi-monthly play date between the village and clan children. I will use my Pokémon to transport them every single time if need be since these kids deserve some fun.

-Help the poor pasture workers make habitats suitable for my Pokémon. You cannot tell me an ice type would be comfortable in sunny Jubilife. Shouldn’t be too hard to make small caves for them to freeze like a small cooler. Also making specific farms for the mass amount of mons.

-Record a time capsule for the future pokémon world dropping cryptic hints on ancestry. Ginter would be “I hope his laziness isn’t inherited too much”… Kamado’s after the banishment needs to be “this mans family needs to know no more direct violence, perhaps take a scholarly pursuit”. Volo would definitely be “enthusiastic but misses the point history tries to teach it appears”.

-I would definitely make sure to have Ingo write a bunch of letters to Emmet as his memory slowly comes back. And then make sure they stay with the Pearl Clan marked “Send to Emmet [Last Name] when Ingo disappears”. So his brother won’t worry for how many months or years Ingo will be gone.

-Make sure teaching how to read and right is a something everybody gets no matter how old. Introduce the concept of certain students getting overstimulated by noise or attention so make different fidget toys. No fidget spinners.

-Mentor Rei, Akari, or both in the ways of modern battling so they don’t feel inadequate compared to me… I probably will never get the hang of crafting pokeballs. But my understanding of Pokémon will probably put me in the Galaxy Team Spotlight.

-Desensitize the Jubilife residents from panicking at the sight of even mostly harmless Pokémon like freaking Bidoof.

-Get different apricorn colors imported so we can make specific Pokeballs (Dive, Net etc).

-Make sure everyone knows about conservation so species don’t go instinct. Yes, we need to watch our affect on the environment. Unlikely it would change too much, but who knows.

-Tell all kinds of other fiction as stories. I will play into subverting standard tropes like damsel in distress. Most used meeting places.

-Grill Professor Laventon for information about what the Galarian people know about giant Pokémon. Explain we have it mostly under control back where I am from, technically true.

-Post a public letter after the banishment thing. Explaining that I didn’t chose to fall from the freaking sky however long ago. How I felt betrayed after doing so many tasks for the town helping them to understand Pokemon. The anger I felt when Kamado failed to recognize my quelling the Nobles was all on his orders. I could have just been shoved to pasture keeping duty to let someone else do it… That I feared for my life during each Noble fight and probably almost died in a few of them. You would think the fact I bleed just like everyone else would prove I wasn’t a disguised Pokémon/monster. Of course, I do in fact get Pokémon could seem like the worst monsters from your mind come to life. They are still dangerous back where I’m from, but you cannot hold an individual of a species as the standard. Also, the Clans were hardly better for not realizing two physical statues meant two different Pokémon! How much blood was spilt in either clan for refusing to admit they both could be right?!

(Probably ask permission from Cyllene if there was a public notice board everyone saw. And organize it so I was out of the village for a few days after posting my grievances. Just to let them think on that for a while without me~)

—Might make a part two for post-game shenanigans. If it’s not already taken, call me Checklist Anon if that is okay.

Damn! You’ve got it planned out!! Respect, my dude! You know what you’re about and you’re ready to do shit as efficiently as you can!

Hell, I wanna fic about you just steamrolling through Hisui and fixing shit people didn’t even realize need fixing!!

Keep it coming, babe!

~Renee

[thefanficmonster]

Rumors

Corpse Husband x Bimbo!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of Slut Shaming, Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Tiniest bit of Angst, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When some rumors start floating around, every content creator does their best to either ignore them or defuse the situation. However, sometimes, the fans attempt to do the defusing themselves which only leads to a worse disaster. That’s the case for Corpse whose fans were quick to jump to his protection of some ‘false’ rumors.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, it was a joy to write. I’m sorry for how long it has taken me to complete and post the fic but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy reading it at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it! Love, Vy ❤

Corpse cracks his knuckles, then his shoulders, then his collarbone, then the his neck. He clenches his jaw as he breathes steadily and rhythmically, trying to control an overwhelming wave of anger that he has never felt before. This is a situation he’s never had to deal with nor did he ever think he’d have to deal with and address on a fucking livestream on top of all, but here he is now, doing his best to count to ten and not go on a Twitter responding spree, calling people out on their bullshit. He wanted to do so, he still wants to, but he was stopped in his intentions and brought to a calm mindset where he was swayed into dealing with this the civil way and not by roasting the fuck out of any and every foul-mouthed person he’s seen on his Twitter timeline.

He can’t really guarantee and civility during the stream either, he’s aware his tolerance is as thin as a stretched out, old rubber band and is a slight tug away from snapping and allowing him to unleash hell on these people because of who he’s been seeing red these past few days. 

Let’s not risk a misunderstanding here - Corpse absolutely loves and adores his fans, but seeing this behavior from them is quite upsetting and disappointing. When he uses the terms like ‘assholes’, ‘jerks’ and ‘rude motherfuckers’ he isn’t referring to them. He knows they are good people, but are using the completely wrong tactic of defending him, not to mention he doesn’t even need defending. Even if he did, he’s more than capable of doing it on his own and not getting other people involved.

“Hello everyone, hope you’re doing well.“ He finally settles on saying, officially kicking off the stream. If there’s any indicator of the serious nature of this stream, it’s probably the lack of lo-fi and the lack of even attempted playfulness and cheeriness in his voice. That’s how you know shit isn’t to be messed around about. “I just realized I didn’t specify what I’ll be doing in the Tweet, but I’ll tell you now, so those who aren’t interested in the subject or want to steer clear of the drama can leave. However, I wouldn’t advise clicking off considering this will be an overall, how do I say this, rant, of sorts? It’s meant to knock some sense in the people who have been spreading hate for a specific person on all social media platforms she’s active on.“

The majority of the viewers are already familiar with the subject, some even guilty of spreading the hate Corpse mentioned, but there are a few that are completely clueless - the ones actually not interested in online drama, not just saying they ‘hate drama’. With those people in mind, Corpse takes to addressing the issue from its very beginning.

“So, for a month now, me and this streamer, who’s also a TikTok star, by the name of Y/N have been interacting a lot on social media. She’s an incredibly sweet girl that a lot of people have prejudice towards. She’s very misjudged and misunderstood because people see he solely as her content, if that makes sense. They only know she’s that streamer who wears revealing clothes on her streams and posts risqué pictures on her Instagram. Like, no.“ Corpse cannot even fully believe he has to address this and that slut-shaming people is still a thing in the twenty-first century. He closes his eyes for a moment, fist tightening and his knuckles turning white, “I don’t understand how so many people can be so shallow and just plain jerks towards her in general, but then again - this is especially for my fans, the members of my fandom - I don’t understand the need you guys feel to put Y/N down to defend me from some ridiculous rumors as if it’s the first time I’ve had to deal with people talking shit for attention or to get someone canceled.“ He sighs, reminding himself to slow his roll as to not confuse any viewers who still don’t know the full story, “Anyway, back to the timeline of events. So, considering we’ve never interacted before, all the replying to comments, retweeting, liking posts and whatever sparked some dating rumors. Isn’t that just fucking hilarious - you see two people interacting on social media and the first thing that comes to mind is that they’re in a romantic relationship. Where did the friendship go? Does no one value or consider friendships to be a valid type of human relation anymore?“ He runs a hand through his hair, making another pause to clear his mind and prevent his frustration from overflowing. He promised he wouldn’t lose his cool and would remain calm and collected, but the more he talks about it the tighter he clenches his fist and the faster his heartrate is. His neck and ears are red from the tension he feels all over, almost like he’s physically restraining a raging wild animal and not just his own thoughts and emotions.

There’s layers to his anger, the lower ones - aka the ones he’s yet to get to - will be a nightmarish test of his self-control, he already knows it. Judging by how much of a toll this rant has already taken on him, his patience and control growing thinner and thinner, he’s not sure how he’ll power through the last layers without his voice raising awfully high in volume and his fists searching for some object to punch. To an ignorant eye, his reaction would seem exaggerated and overboard, but little does that ignorant eye know...

“When some of my fans saw those rumors, they reacted very badly. It was quite disappointing to see. Guys, I appreciate you standing up for me even though you shouldn’t do that - I can defend myself, not that this was a matter I needed defending from to begin with. But just the way some of you went about it was horrifically wrong and quite upsetting, to me but especially to Y/N herself.“ He can feel it, the aggravation growing, bubbling up in his chest, “What I saw disgusted me, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. The things some of you were saying...I couldn’t believe you are in fact the same people who are my fans, my lovely fans who I’ve always thought so highly of. Never did I think you could be able of slut-shaming so vulgarly and grossly, I couldn’t believe what I was reading.“

He has every right to be upset - the things being said about Y/N were truly awful and a lot of things being said were meant to defend Corpse and defuse the rumors, doing so while stomping all over Y/N and her content. Rightfully so, many of her fans were outraged and quick to jump to her defense but were unfortunately outnumbered, leading Corpse to believe not many of her fans are actually real or as dedicated as his which only fueled his fury further.

Anyway, let’s take a look at Y/N’s point of view. Being a content creator for as long as she has, refusing to change her style no matter how many people disagreed and insulted her about it, she’s grown quite used to people spitting insults at her on every social media possible. It’s sad how throughout the majority of her content creating career she’s only had haters, creeps and fake fans watching her videos and streams. Rare are those in her fandom who’d actually stick up for her and defend her in ‘scandals’ such as this one. However, no amount of experience with dealing with hate could have prepared her for this outpour of some of the meanest shit she’s ever heard and been called in her life.

Y/N likes the content she makes, she’s comfortable in her skin and loves her body. She loves showing it off too and nor she nor anyone who wants that deserves to be shamed for who they are and what they do, especially when they aren’t hurting anyone and their content is still appropriate. People have always bashed her for all elements of who she is: her appearance, her clothing style, her streams, her gaming skills, her voice on occasion. She can count the instances when she’s received positive feedback on the fingers of her hands which would depress anyone else but not her. She’s always created content for her own amusement and entertainment so people’s opinions never really bothered her. Until now, until this very drama that has hit a specific nerve, an insecurity of hers she’s never talked about. The comments such as:

(Vy Speaking: Comments containing slut-shaming ahead, go to ### if you want to skip)

“Corpse would never date a slut like her“

“Corpse dating this thot? Please internet stop being ridiculous“

“Corpse ain’t a pimp, y’all need to chill“

“Even if they datin they gon break up soon - whore stays a whore“

###

bothered her far more than she’d like to admit. She has no one to open up about it either, she knows what she’ll get in response if she does - she’ll be told it’s her fault. Her fault because of the way she dresses, the way she talks and acts, because she chose this career to begin with. All her fault. The only person she can turn to she refuses to because she doesn’t want to be a bother - not after so many people confirmed her worries that she’s not good enough for him already anyway, the least she can do is avoid bothering him the best she can.

And that is exactly why this has upset Corpse so much.

“Here’s a little message specifically meant for those who claimed I’d never date someone like Y/N or specifically Y/N. You better listen carefully: Don’t you ever, and I mean EVER slut-shame my girlfriend or any other person ever. I cannot believe I have to explicitly remind you that your behavior isn’t ok. You should fucking know that your behavior isn’t right and that you’re a massive piece of shit for saying those awful things about others you judge solely on appearance and clothing. Does it surprise you that I am, in fact, dating Y/N? If you say yes for the reason you think she’s not good enough for me or that I deserve better, please get the fuck out of my fandom. No one disrespects my girl and gets away with it. That’s final!“

Though still under the influence of a flurry of negative emotions, overhearing Corpse literally telling people to exclude themselves from his fandom for being mean to her, Y/N’s taking a step towards emotional recovery knowing her boyfriend will always have her back. He’ll always be there to prove people wrong, defend her and stand by her. He’ll be there to catch her when the hate knocks her off her feet.

But most importantly: he’ll never ask her to change. Not her style, not her clothes, not her personality, nothing. He fell for her the way she is and for who she is, and he will never allow anyone to try to change her either. For someone who’s never had much support all her life, a single speck of support overpowers all the hate within the blink of an eye. Corpse will always be her knight in shining armor, the knight who defeated all the hateful demons by just entering her life. And though she’s still struggling with the ‘Am I good enough for someone so wonderful?’ and ‘He deserves better, doesn’t he?’ questions, with his hand holding hers, she’ll never let those doubts and insecurities overpower her.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @hisokaslefttiti

[beholdthemem]

There’s something so funny to me about Monster Girl adding another year to her age for emphasis when Dupli-Kate hesitated to give her beer. Like, a few episodes before she gives what I assume is her actual age to Robot when explaining her curse- “Every time I change, I de-age a little. I used to go by Monster WOMAN, until it got too difficult to explain. You see how I look? I’m twenty-fucking-four, I cannot do three changes a day for training alone.” And then a few days later upon being second guessed- “I’m :) twenty :) five. :) HAND :) IT :) OVER :).”

And like, I know that in canon the appearance-not-matching-age deal is a sore subject, but that one scene makes me feel like there was some lost comedic potential.

Just like. Imagine that everybody knows Monster Girl is a lot older than she looks, but nobody’s sure HOW old exactly, because she keeps giving wildly conflicting information about it. Whenever anyone straight up asks her about it, she will give them a number, and then two days later have apparently gained ten years because Actually, At Forty Two, I Am The Oldest Person In The Room Here, And I Don’t Like Your Tone, Young Man In His Early Thirties. How About You Try Listening To Your Elders?

She has all these weird fucking stories and it’s unclear how many of them (if any at all) are true, because the timeline makes absolutely no sense. Allegedly she was in a sorority with the lady from One Tree Hill (Whatever THAT is, she said it like they should all understand and nobody wanted to ask), who was the one who taught her that trick she showed everybody about making a bong out of an apple and a ballpoint pen. This is at odds with what she said to Shrinking Rae about how she regretted skipping college in favor of marrying her her first husband- shortly before he was drafted for Vietnam- and how he proposed via telegram. This is at odds with what Kate remembered her saying about MEETING her first husband while stationed together during WORLD WAR II.

“Women weren’t drafted for World War II.” Robot points out, not bothering to correct any other thing she’s mentioned that he knows can't be right.

“Well, I was.” Monster Girl says primly, with an expression that says the next person to interrupt her is going to regret it a lot, and then begins telling a story about an artist she knew while she was living in France and modeling for paintings as a side gig in between working at a few different hat shops.

“Why the hell would you need an entire shop just to sell hats?”

“Everybody wore hats back then. They were a big deal. You weren’t supposed to leave the house without one, gotta grab your hat, gotta grab your gloves-”

“Glo- back WHEN?!”

[kradogsrats]

Rewatch Shitposts: S3, Ep 5-9

OKAY HOME STRETCH

v.

“I am the senate law”

SOREN, my baby

HAY HAY HAY HAY HAY

Soren like “and you all said CHA was a dump stat lmao”

“You are okay, right?” Claudia I can 110% assure you he is absolutely not okay and has not been for quite a while

Oh fuck, that “everything’s going to be okay, Dad” is very relevant to some of my current interests. I must have subconsciously remembered it.

Not shown: how Soren explains why he’s going back into the castle with his wagon of hay for the hungry, hungry horses still full

Pretty sure this ambler chase is a Breath of the Wild boss fight

ngl I do enjoy a good fictional fascist motivational speech

of course it’s a bit ruined because all I can hear at the end is “YOU are the weakest link, GOODBYE”

the smollest loaf of bread omg

Nyx like “I’ll just be sending you my matchmaker fee later, yeah?”

vi.

Aaravos: “you killed Avizandum”, Viren: “how dare you! …so who the fuck is that”

Ah, there we go with the last breath

Okay, so the unicorn horn can’t be in Puzzle House, because Claudia only got it right before Thunder was killed? Well, then I’m again no longer sure where they’re going with that. Unless it’s “Claudia meets the last unicorn as a child, then comes back for its horn ten years later.”

Appreciate Kasef’s “Wingarduim Levio-SAH” moment

… Horse girl Aaravos

Claudia really is behind literally every spell in this story isn’t she

vii.

Zubeia dying of a broken heart, as is traditional for cartoon mothers and also Padme Amidala

OH, Claudia DOES see adoraburrs, and it is perfection

Ah, the “Aaravos, no” “Aaravos YES” conversation

Basically Aaravos realizing that subtlety is absolutely not required at this point, thank you Viren

Shoutout to the multiple fanfics carefully describing thicc wormvaros crawling down Viren’s throat to be smuggled into Lux Aurea, that also is just gonna live rent-free in my head forever

“No, Mister Bond… I expect you to die”

If you haven’t read the ToX sourcebook adventure about the corrupted Sunforge as nuclear meltdown allegory, highly recommend because it’s actually pretty funny?

Kasef thinking he’s being the hero everyone needs…

Ibis a fucking hottie tbh

viii.

Ten days ago is what… when Zubeia would have received Runaan’s message? ... that is a joke about the series’ compressed timeline, I know that s1ep1 was longer ago than that.

Soren: “you may not like it, but this is what peak performance looks like”

Love Calllum’s noodle arm during that fulminis cast

Scouting from the sky is not super useful when you’re above the cloud layer

Viren: /gets roundhouse-kicked doen a flight of stairs, literally bouncing the entire way down, me: … AND THEN HE DIED

Where was Zubeia, anyway? Postpartum spa day?

Soren really nailing it here

I know exactly enough ASL to see Callum spell “Rayla” and then do “friend”

ix.

Huh, I think Rayla just introduced two recaps in a row?

“transcend the limits of your human form” is usually a bad idea in this kind of context, just saying

I feel like it cannot be overstated how much LotR clearly influenced this initial battle choreography, but y’know what? Fair.

”I got more wind where that came from” is such a tragedy of a missed fart joke opportunity, but someone probably thought it was a mood-killer

Aanya just straight-up shoots a dude to death, demonstrating that she is, in fact, this show’s single biggest badass

Fire damage immunity a questionable trade-off for critical weakness to piercing

”We would have been here earlier, but we had to stop and make these sick battle standards”

Viren just… carries the coins everywhere, then? okay

Ah… of course. I see now what’s happening, here. (tbh it should have been obvious)

… and then he ACTUALLY died, despite there being no stairs involved(?)

Hmmm, Janai and the other Sunfire elves doing the human gesture of respect for the human king

I wonder if Zym will have a voice for s4?

/falls face down on the floor and just lies there

[dumdumsun]

And Dusk

A/N: Just a heads up, the sensitive content in this chapter will be marked "<<<<<<" as the beginning and ">>>>>>" to signify the end. The racial slurs used in this chapter were targeted towards African Americans (and still are) and I chose these because I, myself, am African American and used them as a sort of “default” for any POC readers. ⚠️Please, never use these towards anyone. Whether it be in a “joking” manner or not. They are hurtful and were created to be that way⚠️ I wrote this chapter the way I did to bring awareness. Proceed with caution. Much love ❤���

Warnings: ⚠️racial slurs⚠️, violence, mentions of guns and dying/death

Word Count: 3707

—————————————

Chapter 3: The Frankel Footage

Shaking himself out of his shock, Five stood from his seat and hurried after his brother, grabbing onto his arm and stopping his strides. “The hell is wrong with you, Luther? I just told you the world’s gonna end in ten days!”

“Yeah, well, you’re always saying that.” Luther nonchalantly spoke before moving away, but Five intervened yet again.

“And so far, I’ve been right.” He hissed as Luther sighed and shook his head.

“Look, you want to go save the world? Knock yourself out, alright? I already got a job.”

“Wait, you work in this shithole?” The boy furrowed his brows.

“Yeah. Well, my boss owns the place,” Luther only received a nod from his brother, so he clarified. “I’m his body man.”

But this only made Five even more confused. “What’s that? Like, a masseuse or something?”

“Okay, you can make fun all you want, but I take good care of Mr Ruby.”

“Wait, Ruby. The Jack Ruby? The gangster who shot Oswald.”

Despite Five’s concern, Luther proudly smiled a smug smile as he glanced over at his boss. “Yeah. The one and only.”

“Well, it finally happened,” Five sighed. “That gorilla DNA has finally taken over your mind-”

“Hey, watch it, alright? Jack’s a good friend-”

“And you’re Number One. Numero Uno. Remember?”

Luther clenched his jaw and shook his head. “There is no Number One. Not anymore. Not in 1963,” When Five stared at him in disbelief, Luther sighed again. “Look, I’ve been stranded here alone for a year. What did you expect?”

Five scoffed. “I get it, alright? You watched Pogo die, the world exploded, and I marooned your big dumb ass in time. I’m sorry, okay? But I’m asking for your help, Luther. The Umbrella Academy needs you.”

“It doesn’t need me,” He slowly spoke to draw out his words. “It never did.”

“Luther, honey,” The waitress from earlier approached the two. “Jack’s about to lose it on some half-wit. A little help?”

“Ah, shit,” He groaned and began walking away. When Five tried yet again to stop him, he whirled on him, his lips pulled into a thin line. “Listen. You’re the genius who said we should jump, right? You’re the one who got us stuck here. And you’re the one who brought Vanya. So, if there is a doomsday coming, she’s probably the cause. And if I was gonna do something about it, it sure as hell is not gonna be with you. That’s (Y/N)’s job, being dragged around into your messes-”

“I don’t drag her into anything.” Five swallowed, blinking rapidly.

“Yeah? Well, she wasn’t stuck as a thirteen-year-old and constantly worrying about her kids until you showed up. I’m surprised she isn’t sick of you yet.” And with that, he stomped away to his boss. This time, Five let him go, his words sending a pang through his chest as he thought back on it. Grabbing his drink, he sighed and shook his head.

“Dad should’ve left him on the moon…” He muttered, taking a sip of his drink before moving to leave his seat. When he felt his jacket snag on something, he looked down to see an object in his pocket. Taking out the tape, he frowned and turned it over.

Date: 11/22/63

Subject: FRANKEL FOOTAGE

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

This world was unfamiliar to (Y/N). She knew she had to have been somewhere in America, but she didn’t know where. The cars, fashion and stores bringing the street she walked to life told her she had to have been in the sixties. But she didn’t want to believe it. Surely Five hadn’t time travelled that far? She had to have been dropped during some type of sixties-theme festival. But the voices suddenly beside her quickly prove her doubts wrong.

“What do we have here?”

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a lost little colored girl.”

Tensing, (Y/N) continued her way down the sidewalk, slightly speeding up her pace, but the men fell into step beside her with ease, flanking her sides.

“You’re on the wrong side of town, girl.”

“Yeah, we don’t like coons around here.” One of them hissed right in her ear. Her eyes welled up with tears before the other shoved her forward.

“Gon now, get!” He ordered as if she were a dog. She realized that’s how they had seen her. An animal. Nothing more. Tripping on a crack in the sidewalk, she fell to the ground, smacking her face on the concrete. She choked out a sob as the two men cackled. And to make matters even worse, she felt the pitter patter of raindrops start to freeze her skin.

(Y/N) gasped out in shock when the men spit two wads of saliva in her face. She knew she must’ve looked a mess with spit and tears sliding down her cheeks and blood oozing from her nose. She hiccupped on her sobs and began to stand, much too tired from her previous fight with Vanya and literally being dropped from the sky to successfully do so. The men backed her up against a wall and one fisted the front of her vest before a voice called out.

“Take your hands off of my child!” Whipping around, the men were half expecting to find another target, but (Y/N) coughed and sputtered nonsense upon the person her gaze fell upon.

“M-Mom…?”

Before her was Grace, but… she wasn’t robotic in any sense. She could tell by the raw anger etched into her features. She took a brave step forward. “I said. Take your hands. Off my child.”

And that was another thing: her accent. (Y/N) was immediately comforted by the stern southern accent the woman shared with her attackers. It was a voice she never thought she needed. The two looked between Grace and (Y/N) with smirks. “You mean this lil ol’ jigaboo-”

“Is my daughter. Now you let her go before I call the police.”

“Woman, I don’t care if you call the police-”

Grace took it upon herself to step closer and grab the child by her arms, yanking her into her warm embrace. (Y/N) immediately latched onto her, quivering in her hold. The men scoffed and shook their heads, beginning to walk away. “Make sure to keep that thing on a leash if you’re gonna have it out, ma’am.”

“Oh, fuck off.” She growled before turning and walking back in the direction the girl came from. As they walked past the alleyway, Grace took out a handkerchief and began wiping the girl’s face clean of what the raindrops hadn’t already washed away. “It’s alright, hun, they aren’t gonna hurt you anymore.”

“T-Thank you.” (Y/N) sobbed and gently held her nose in pain. Grace crouched in front of her and gently held her face in between her hands.

“Don’t thank me, darlin’, it’s how everyone should be treatin’ you ‘round here… Where are your parents? I could take you to ‘em.”

(Y/N) thought for a long moment, watching as the rain soaked Grace’s hair and clothing. The woman didn’t seem to mind as she watched the girl before her swallowing thickly. (Y/N) skimmed over her current choices. She didn’t have any choice.

“I don’t have parents. I-I don’t remember them…”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“I’m tellin’ you, Reggie, she’s highly intelligent for a child her age.” Grace proudly presented (Y/N) to the man she had grown fond of over their time working together. (Y/N), however, was frozen in her spot. Sir Reginald Hargreeves. The man whose death she had wished upon for years, whose death had finally graced her existence, was back in her life. She flinched at the disapproving look on his face, much too acquainted with it by this point in her life. “And she’s very respectful. Talented, too, this girl can speak several languages.”

“You seem rather fond of this child.” The man observed as Grace squeezed her into her side.

“She’s my pride and joy.”

“And you cannot remember anything of your past, child?”

“N-No,” (Y/N) shook her head and stared down. “Not a lot. J-Just my name and birthday.”

Reginald hummed and stared her down with an unreadable expression. When she met his eyes again, he was crouched down to her level, his monocle clutched in his fist. “(Y/N), was it?”

“Yes.”

“It would be an honor to have your presence within my home, along with your mother.”

“O-Oh, that’s okay-”

“I insist. Besides, you have been living with her for almost half a year, correct? It is highly unlikely that she will share a home without you.”

“He’s right about that, hun,” (Y/N) glanced up at Grace, who was smiling warmly at her. “I’m not leavin’ you.”

(Y/N) could have cried.

And she did.

One year later, (Y/N) had been living quite the comfortable life with Grace and Reginald. She had been introduced to the ape, Pogo, for the second time since Grace first started working with him. As much as she loved being around the chimp, it brought back so many memories. She almost felt silly, looking after him sometimes knowing he had done the same for her in the original timeline.

Her relationship with Reginald was nothing she ever expected. He was gentle, well as gentle as Reginald Hargreeves could get, he cared for her, spoiled her, even. She wouldn’t have to ask for anything half the time. If he were to overhear a conversation between her and Grace about a dress she oh-so wanted, it would suddenly be laid out on her bed the next day. She usually had a say in dinner meals every Thursday and Sunday and Reginald listened intently whenever she would voice any discomfort or concerns with her living conditions. (Y/N) never had a real father, but she assumed this is what it was like to have one. She never wanted to let go of it.

For her birthday in 1963, she was surprised that he had actually gotten her a present. As she entered the parlor, she was met with the tiniest bark and an even tinier golden retriever, bounding up to her. She gasped and stopped low, letting him jump into her arms. She let him lick her face and giggled in the joy it brought her.

“Your mother said you would like it. Though I would never allow dogs in my house, I have come to understand that there are rules I must bend for you, my child.”

(Y/N) turned to her father. Yes, father. Reginald, also growing quite fond of their father-daughter bond formed between them, decided to adopt the girl. As much as his beliefs and his deep distaste for children protested. There was just something about this child. Or perhaps it was Grace’s insisting, reassuring him that he would make a wonderful father. (Y/N) was very hesitant at first for her own reasons she never shared, but eventually came around to the idea of being his daughter again.

This was the same Reginald Hargreeves who locked her in a dark room for five days straight, but also an entirely different man. Perhaps it was her fascination with the differences, or maybe she just wanted a real father for once.

“Thank you, Dad.” She softly smiled, the man nodding in response.

“But this is your pet, (Y/N). It is your responsibility. I will not find it in my study, in my bedroom, you are to train it yourself-”

“Can you-”

“And no, I will not help you pick out its name.”

The girl softly groaned and looked back down at her new puppy. Looking into its eyes, she smiled softly at a distant memory as a small child.

“Welcome to the family, Mr Pennycrumb.”

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

(Y/N) groaned when she felt the sunbeams of the early morning sunrise hit her eyelids, coloring her black vision with the stinging fire of orange. Rolling onto her other side, she stretched her blanket over her head. They were yanked away the next second, causing a whine to leave her lips. “Mom… Five more minutes.”

“I let you sleep in long enough, hun, it’s time to get up. You have a date with Preston this afternoon.” Grace gently pulled her daughter to sit up, giggling quietly at her look of disgust.

“Preston? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously, let’s get goin’.” Grace patted her leg and walked to her door, waiting patiently. (Y/N) sighed and rubbed her face, letting her feet slide into her slippers. As they descended the stairs to the kitchen for breakfast, Reginald could hear his daughter’s sleepy complaining from his place at the table.

Setting his utensils down, he turned his head in their direction. “My child, how many times throughout each week must we have to repeat this conversation?”

“Until it starts making sense.” (Y/N) stepped into the dining room, now in her robe, and crossed her arms over her chest. Reginald sighed and stood from his chair at the table.

“You are one of my greatest accomplishments,” He began towards her. “There is no doubt in my mind that you would make a fine successor. I do not believe you will need a husband. In fact, you would be better off without another individual holding you back from what you are truly capable of.”

“But?” She raised a brow.

“But… I have grown to know you more than I expected… and I know that you would need someone to help manage your finances you inherit once I am gone. Preston is a fine young man who was born into this life, made into this life. He will take good care of you.”

(Y/N) knew there was only one person in this world who would truly take good care of her. But he wasn’t here, and she needed to play the part as the amnesiac adopted daughter, so she huffed and nodded. “Fine… I’ll go…”

“Thank you-”

“But only if Mr Pennycrumb can go, too.”

“Very well, but you will not be gifted another animal if you lose it.”

The outing wasn’t entirely bad. (Y/N) didn’t mind the picnic or the art museum, it was the company that made her blood boil. Preston is anything she would have expected out of him. This had been their seventh date, tenth of the ones he planned. (Y/N) sought out any opportunity she could to cancel on him to save herself from the unbearable three hours she would have to spend with the kid. He was arrogant, smug, selfish, narcissistic, and overbearing. Of course, this was not the Preston he presented to her parents. No, to them, Preston was ‘a fine man with a bright future ahead of him’, or as Grace would put it, ‘a delight to have around’. He laughed like a drunk, talked like a husband, and smelled like a man. All at the age of fifteen. (Y/N) had to remind herself on several occasions that she was mentally the older out of the two and to not stoop to his level when he got under her skin.

“Don’t you think, (Y/N)?” The voice brought her attention back to the boy beside her. She looked up from the grass they had been strolling through. When she hummed in question, he amusedly scoffed and side-step closer to her. “Never mind. I should have known you wouldn’t have been interested in politics.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” The girl raised a brow. At her confusion, he laughed and gently tapped the side of his head.

“You’ve always got that head of yours in the clouds. Or turned behind you- like right now.”

(Y/N) turned her head away from where she had been looking over her shoulder. “What? Sorry, Preston, I’m a little preoccupied today.”

“With what, exactly? You don’t seem to be the type of girl to have very many issues. Nothing to worry about.”

“And you wonder why I don’t listen to you.” She sighed as her puppy ran in between her legs, rolling in the grass once he was a few paces in front of them. Preston frowned in distaste and shook his head.

“You should really keep that thing on a leash, sweetheart.”

She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, clenching her teeth as she folded her hands behind her back. “Really now?”

“Really. You know, I’m not very fond of dogs, so I’m not sure how it’ll work out once we’re married. I think we should get one after we have kids, you know? Just so the kids could grow up with it.”

(Y/N) quickly turned her head to the left, pointing out across the street. “Preston, would you look at that?”

“Look at what?” He gullibly looked in the direction, (Y/N) quickly checking the area before almost silently singing her tune. From her shadow, her clone formed and robotically walked behind the two. She quickly switched spots with it and ordered the clone to walk with Preston before scooping her puppy into her arms and rushing off in the opposite direction. Once she was behind a diner far away from their date location, she let out a sigh and gently patted her dog on the head.

“Were you sick of it, too?” She chuckled. Resting the back of her head against the brick wall she leaned on, she let out a slow breath and began to relax. The sound of guns cocking had her head snapping up so fast, she swore she could have dislocated it. Just down the end of the line of stores were three white-haired men, one in a milkman uniform, training their guns on her. (Y/N) didn’t waste a second tucking her dog in front of her and spinning around, charging down the opposite direction as bullets whizzed past her. She dodged them the best she could, jumping a few feet in the air at the ones that threatened to take their place in her feet. It was like a dance; the twisting, spinning and jumping, and she was to perform this dance until one of those bullets killed her if she didn’t find a way out soon. Sliding to the side of a clothing store for cover, she gently shushed her pet as she caught her breath.

The three sets of footsteps eventually found their destination and rounded the corner with skilled quickness, shooting at the girl until she was nothing more than a bloodied corpse on the ground, bullet holes lodged in almost every inch of her body. The three men nodded to each other and turned around, making their way out from behind the stores.

(Y/N) had already been down the street from her house by the time her attackers found the clone in her place. She couldn’t have been bothered to check herself for any wounds, too worried about Mr Pennycrumb’s potential bullet wounds. But the pup was perfectly, happily nuzzling into her arms and wagging his tail. This left (Y/N) to ponder.

Who the hell were those men?

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

“Is it on?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? There’s an ‘on’ button. Just- There’s something over- that jigga-ma-thing, whatever.”

“I hit the jigga-ma-thing!”

“Okay, well, just- Give it to me. I know how to do this.”

“Alright, here, here. Hurry up.”

“Okay, alright, let’s see…”

Lila didn’t look up from her task of painting poor Elliott’s toenails, his bindings he received after threatening the trio with a gun preventing him from moving too much. Which was beneficial to her, as it kept her from ruining the paint job. She softly smiled as she listened to the argument between the elderly couple on the film Five and Diego were intently watching. “They’re so cute,” She commented. “I love old couples. I’m always so proud of them for not murdering each other.”

Ignoring her, Diego turned to his brother from his seat on Elliott’s counter. “Why are we watching this?”

“Shush.” Five replied, eyes trained on the film before him, searching for any clue to the approaching apocalypse, brows furrowed in concentration.

“Yeah, I… I’m Dan Frankel. And…”

“I’m Edna Frankel.”

“...Edna Frankel. We are in Dallas, Texas, to see the president. Today’s date is November 22, 1963.”

Five nodded as everyone’s attention was brought to the projected screen before them.

“That’s six days from now.” Lila spoke as Elliott thrashed about more against his bindings. Diego sat forward in interest.

“Holy shit. This is it. The grassy knoll. Kennedy’s about to get shot. How do you have this?”

“Hazel died to get me this footage,” Five answered. “It must be the key to stopping doomsday.”

“Hazel…?” Diego frowned, remembering the man he spent hours searching for and planning to kill to avenge the death of Eudora Patch.

“Long story.”

“What’s doomsday?” Lila looked up at the boy.

“Longer story.”

“What exactly did he say to you?” Diego asked as Lila turned her head back to the film.

Five shrugged. “Well, he was killed before he could explain. But whatever he wanted us to see, it’s on this film.”

“This is very exciting.” The old man smiled before the sound of gunshots and screaming could be heard, the camera moving around in blurs due to the shock of the old woman filming.

“Oh, my god!”

“Oswald…” Diego whispered, setting his knife down as Five leaned in closer.

“The president!”

When the camera was steadied to record across the street, Five and Diego both stiffened in their spots at what their eyes caught. “Oh, no…” Five breathed and moved behind the projector, rewinding the film and scooting the cart backwards to zoom in closer. The room was silent as Diego stood to his feet and Five rounded the cart before standing beside his brother, directly in front of the film. “This can’t be…”

“Okay, you gonna fill me in now, boys?” Lila glanced between the two. “What the hell is this shit we’re watching?”

But she was ignored yet again.

“No, that’s impossible…”

“Clearly, it’s not.”

“What… What is it?” Elliott muffled past the gag in his mouth.

A beat of silence went by before the two Hargreeves whispered in unison,

“Dad.”

—————————————

Taglist: @unfortu-nate-ly @sapphicsyn @m00n-sh @starcurrent @alexander-hamilhoe @youcandalekmyballs @wonderlandfandomkingdom @yrdadjstcallsmekatya @sm0kingcrack @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow @bubblegumflamingos @starstormssymphony @meowiemari @magicalgothpandamaker @simping-4-fictional-men @hehehehannahthings @harrystylescherrie @rhain3 @himikaphoo @zerocanonlywriteshit @xxeiraxx @camerondiaz48104 @isawachickeninatree

[sleeplessideology]

⚠️lesson 16+ and angel event spoilers⚠️

Belphie in the Attic Theory and Explanation

Warnings; Swearing, death, political discussion, hard truths

Okay. I’ve seen a lot of people misunderstand why Luci would put Belphie in the attic. That or they just use it as a reason to hate Luci.. I understand why some wouldn’t like him but let’s not twist the story just bc of it. No he probably didn’t handle the situation the best but if you read the theory after the explanation I’ll explain why I think he handled it the way he did. Anyways, don’t be assholes because of a game (only directed to people who are) and please enjoy

Masterlist

First, the explanation as to why Luci put Belphie in the attic

For starters, I couldn’t tell if Belphie was going to slaughter all of humanity like some people have said but he was definitely going to ruin the exchange program

That’s like, the whole reason he murdered MC. To ruin the exchange program

In Dia’s eyes, that was treason as the demon prince said himself, and I don’t think it says what punishment Belphie would be facing, but it was bad enough that the brothers and MC freaked out to defend him (reminder that this happened before MC was murdered bc I forgot and almost said why tf would they go through time to save the dude that murdered them lol)

That being said, Luci put Belphie up there bc Belphie would face punishment otherwise

And now my theory

I 100% believe Belphie would be sentenced to death and it would end in The Great Celestial War 2.0

It’s a mirror image if you think about it

Dia is the ruler of the Devildom (and you cannot ignore the fact that he is the most powerful demon and has demonic instincts just like every other demon. Belphie became a problem and he more than likely was going to simply get rid of the problem) and God is the ruler of the Celestial realm

Belphie is the youngest sibling that broke a law and Lilith was the youngest sibling that broke a law

There are even seven siblings in both (since Satan wasn’t born until during or after the war, maybe even right before)

Maybe another Satan would have been born 👀

And Diavolo don’t fuck with that shit

God made his angels fight for him but Dia would kill them all himself

It’s a really hard truth but it’s true nonetheless

He may be all smiley and fun and shit but I can’t be the only one that notices when he gets passive aggressive

example: when Mammon knew about the illegal casino and Luci sent him with Dia to look while he stayed with MC. Dia obviously scared him while it mentions his grip on Mammon was exactly friendly, implying that Dia had to have done something to make Mammon so scared (which could have been from past events) since Mammon isn’t the type to fear someone bc of their power, especially when said person is playful

Or when the angel event happened and Dia didn’t show any sympathy… like it had to bring back trauma for the brothers and Dia had to have known that, there is no way he didn’t

This dude is not afraid to get serious and a lot of people ignore that

Since this is a parallel, it adds to my belief that Belphie would have been sentenced to death

The only reason Belphie didn’t receive punishment in the timeline that MC traveled to (don’t even get me started on the timeline mess bro) was because MC did what was asked, they completed the deal Dia made with them

They found out who let Belphie out, which is all mixed up honestly bc a dead MC wasn’t in the original timeline but I bet it was Lilith’s ghost or sum shit let let him out first

Cuz like- Belphie said you needed a pact with all his brothers but MC wasn’t in a pact with Luci so it was probably Lilith that opened it the first time (or another MC but again, no dead MC showed up in that timeline and Belphie was even friendly with them, especially when Beel took the two to purgatory hall)

I’m pretty sure she had some sort of spiritual attachment to MC rather than MC being a descendent

Like Belphie said upon hearing the news, it’s just way too convenient

And if MC was a descendant, why would they get her memories? Doesn’t that happen to people with past lives? Also, since Lilith spoke to MC when they died I think those mementoes were planted in there, not ‘remembered’

Lilith probably fed off MC to gain the power to let Belphie out which would explain why Luci’s pact wasn’t needed, she had her own power to use

And leading into when MC finds out about the Ring (MCs power that is said to be tremendous) I really don’t feel like that has to do with being related to Lilith

It would make sense yes, but it feels more like a new thing, something that MC made on their own

And if it was bc of relation to Lilith then wouldn’t MC still keep getting memories? Why did it stop after Belphie was ‘saved’? And wouldn’t more be happening in the Celestial Realm? It’s said that much more has happened in the Devildom and Human realm than in the Celestial Realm.

I guess it could be since it’s a distant relation but Dia (or maybe Solomon said it) said that their connections to ALL the realms ran deep

I think it’s because the brothers used to be angels. Even a fallen angel is still kinda angel, so despite the brothers being demons now, there is probably still angelic essence in them

Like- millennia of existence as angels in the most holy place there is can’t just disappear??? Yeah their bodies are different in the sense of their demon forms but a soul can’t really change

It would also help explain why the options were the Ring of Light (which is the match to the Ring of Wisdom that Solomon has which really made me go 😏lolol) or to completely sever it which would sever the pacts

Liiiikee if it has to sever the pacts im pretty sure it’s the pacts that are the problem… MC most likely had their own tiny bit of magic since (I could be wrong on this one) it’s said all or at least most humans have a blip of power (which grows like Solomon’s or Maddi the which lady)

I FORGOT TO MENTION EARLIER!! I’m pretty sure Luci put Belphie in the attic instead of dealing with the problem differently was bc he saw that it was a mirror image and panicked, he was scared to loose another sibling. He also didn’t know how to communicate to Belphie why it was such a bad idea to object the exchange program. He locked Belphie away bc he simply didn’t know what else to do

That or Dia told him that if he didn’t put Belphie away for the duration of the exchange program that, he would sentence Belphie to death for treason and of course Luci would listen to save his baby brother

Anyway this is getting longer than I intended so I’ll stop here, let me know if a part two or something else is wanted lol

[scolopendress-tag]

I said I'd make a post detailing my kid Asra working for Lucio theory in this post so here it is! 

So Let's get STARDED.

So! To start off, how it began. We do know when Asra and Muriel were kids, Lucio came to them each seperately with a deal.

Essentially: work for me, or I'll hurt your friend.

This was the sentiment he repeated for both of them. So, not wanting the other to be harmed, they both agree - unaware of the other's deal.

For Muriel, it was playing heel/excecutioner at the coleseium. For Asra, it was doing... Well, we never know, aside from he worked under Lucio. But that's what we are here to discuss in any case.

Continued under the read more, for the sake of people's dashes.

Now presumably, if I got my timeline right, Asra at this time would've been around 12 or 13. We don't know much about how Asra was when he was younger, other than that he has certainly changed.

It's also worth noting that it's not amiss to say they were both also still homeless at the time, and the hut hadn't come into the play until after.

Asra was still living on the streets.

This all isn't overly important for any of my claims later, but perhaps someone else could make something of it. It does provide us with some framing for the situation as a whole, though.

Now onto Asra's time under Lucio. I don't know that we have any indication of how long it was, but presumably at least a year if not more.

We do also know that Lucio knew who Asra was. Both in that he knew Aisha and Salim had a kid, and that he knew Asra was said kid.

This is bring this up because we know Aisha and Salim were incredibly talented, and likely incredibly powerful. Lucio wouldn't settle for any run of the mill magician or alchemist for the work he needed. So he must've had some idea that Asra may take after that power as well.

To top it off, he also interacted and talked with the dock kids he also used, (two of which would actually later become palace guards,) and seeing as this is seemingly how he learned of Muriel, it's not off to think that this is also how he heard of Asra again to start. The kids knew of Asra's magic, and roughly where he was, and could've even continued talking about both Muriel and Asra to Lucio for unknown amounts of time.

So now Lucio knows that the kid of his two powerful practitioners of magic is not only still around, but taking after them as well.

If Muriel's intimidating size and physical power are what drew Lucio to him, why wouldn't Asra's considerable metaphysical power and talents draw Lucio in as well?

We know how much Lucio loves power, and that he has an interest in magic because of it, as mentioned in the main story. (no ss sorry... If you have one send so I can add. )

Plus, homeless kid in a vulnerable spot. Easy pickings.

That's what I think this whole thing was about, really. It's all power. Though Asra likely didn't have the full scope of power he does in the current game, he was probably still considerably talented, and was only getting better.

What Lucio specifically probably wanted from Asra then was either to be taught how to use that power, to use Asra for things that required it, and/or use his power for entertainment akin to how he used Muriel.

I think out of these however, using him for his power was most likely. Why? (And teaching him now, more on that further down)

(Sorry for bad quality lmao it's a small image. Also thanks to @8-bit-space for showing these to me like months ago. As you can see I can't stop thinking abt it)

These are screenshots from the old prologue. While they're not canon any more, there's reason to believe they still hold merit as to how Lucio feels about Asra.

Two things to me are major here. First is the "powerful potent magic," and how it's the "real deal," equating to a large part of how he views Asra yet again tying back to a heavy interest in his power. Now, you could argue this relates to using his powers in the palace during the plague, but the second point stands out even more to me.

"The one who broke him for me?"

What this implies to me is that Lucio could never quite get all the way through to Asra or control him when he was younger, and he's been dying to do so. He wanted Asra broken, presumably so that he'll become essentially a tool for him to use for his skill and not put up a fight- something Asra likely did as a child.

Because it seems that Lucio for the most part relied on control through fear when it came to Asra, threatening to hurt Muriel, lying to him about how he executed his parents, likely other things as well. But things seem to point to that never quite working like he had hoped.

This could allude to this as well. Though "impossible" is something Asra's been called a few times, namely also by Julian, there's no reason to assume Lucio wasn't also including his work with him as a kid in "always". Impossible to hate could be his draw to Asra for his power, his talent, his skills, the prospect of which I'm sure Lucio found practically mouthwatering. Impossible to love could be his stubbornness or reluctance to do what Lucio wants, always pushing against him or being hard to deal with, both as a kid and during the plague.

And lines like this, where he calls him a coward. I find it hard to relate this to the plague ritual as he was for the most part willingly helping with that, so it could be resenment for when Asra eventually ran off as a kid, unwilling to put up with him any longer, or his reluctance to do certain things for him then in general.

We know, and it has even been mentioned by a character within the canon, that Asra can be incredibly stubborn, to back that up. Plus, he could've been even harder to work with then both being a kid and as I mentioned earlier he has changed from how he was then, so he could've had more spunk to him or such.

This also easily means that what Lucio was trying to get Asra to do then was something Asra was quite obviously opposed to. Being used for his power is already degrading enough, but there could be more to it.

You'll notice in the post that was linked at the top (the reason I'm writing this) I mentioned pushing Asra to his physical limits and magical extremes. This could be one of the reasons for a push back.

If Lucio was having Asra do things for him involving magic, it's not out of pocket to assume he'd practically run him into the ground- I'm sure he really wouldve loved testing the limits of what Asra could REALLY do.

Wether it be huge expendure of power all at once, or tons of smaller things one after the other, it would absolutely take it's toll. We are shown a few times that using magic can exhaust someone, and I don't remember if this is shown in canon ever (tell me if so!) but pushing it even further could definitely lead to other things such as passing out, (Or nosebleeds, for the aesthetic,) alongside likely being incredibly painful and draining, both mentally and physically.

Basically, abusing his powers and the body that commanded them. It's also possible that the stubborness to work with Lucio could also be partially percieved because of this- Lucio taking Asra's literal physical inability to continue as defiance.

Another reason for push back from Asra would be making him do morally compromising things. This is a little more vague, but intimidation is a common headcanon I see for what Lucio made Asra do, and that could tie in here. Other things could be meddling in things and business he shouldn't, but again, it's a vague thing. Make of it what you will. Fucked up stuff all around.

[EDIT - TEACHING LUCIO]

(THANK YOU @tea-tye for showing me these, and credits to @hangedman-magician for the video they came from!!!!!!!)

...I cannot BELIEVE I forgot this, I KNEW I was missing something. Especially when I was fairly certain I remember Lucio being obsessed with the idea of magic. SO, MOVING ON,

There's not terribly much to pick apart here as it's rather direct- Asra saying he has in fact tried to teach Lucio magic. So in my eyes this solidifies that this was a component of Asra's time under Lucio. I still think my points about Lucio treatment (pushing Asra to his limits) stand, as well.

This can also tie in the stubborness mentioned as, well, can you imagine teaching Lucio? Asra backs this up by saying nothing he has ever said stuck with Lucio, and you know how Lucio gets when things don't go his way. He would've blamed his inability to learn on Asra, likely.

Looking to other quotes mentioned: the 'broke him' line still rings to me like he was trying to use Asra in other ways, and the 'coward' line could go either way from refusing to teach Lucio certain things, or refusing to do certain things for Lucio when he was merely being used. The "impossible" line could also go for others, as trying to teach someone like Lucio would've undoubtedly caused some head butting.

This is certainly really exciting and interesting to me as it gives a more complete picture on the exact situation at hand here. I still stay by my reasoning for Lucio simply using Asra as well on top of being taught because it seems highly likely that Lucio would've been too impatient to learn to do certain things himself, and like I said as well, I don't doubt he also just wanted to see what Asra was REALLY capable of. Something he could've saw as a tantalizing insight into the kind of power he could aquire of this kid would just... work with him.

NOW we have a MUCH clearer answer as to what exactly Asra was likely doing under Lucio, or at this point, almost certainly doing. It's a sad picture for Asra of course, but with this you can draw some interesting points as to how he could've been affected by this, as I'm sure it would've left some kind of imprint on him.

Sure it may not have been as traumatic as what Muriel went through, but when you look at it, it's hard to say it DIDN'T leave it's scars. If we consider all the points presented in this post truth we have:

A 12/13 yo homeless child, threatened with his friend's life to work for the Count that he knew was the one responsible for orphaning him and making him homeless in the first place.

Said child believing his parents are still alive, and as we see in Travel at Night, could very likely still be trying to find them. In a situation like Asra's that glimmer of hope probably was a big deal in helping him push on. This may also be a reason he agreed on top of Muriel's safety.

While working under the count, he is told that his parents were executed, no doubt devastating. The manner in which this was mentioned is up for debate, and could affect exactly how it was taken. Options could be Lucio joking or bragging about it (treating it as trivial or an accomplishment), or using it to threaten Asra, (as in I killed your parents, I'll kill you too,) both would work when it comes to controlling by fear.

It is also mentioned that Lucio told him the reason for his parents execution is that they messed up his gold arm, so Asra also has the knowledge that his parents were killed over something so unbelievably trivial.

Being used as a source of power and nothing else, both for teaching and pure work/entertainment, all for the man who killed his parents, day after day.

Being pushed to physically painful and mentally draining limits, expending so much energy that he completely exhausts himself, day after day.

Likely taking all sorts of verbal abuse from Lucio, day after day.

Like mentioned earlier, it seems clear that Lucio wanted to break Asra, so some other form of trying to chip away at his psyche to make him more convenient for Lucio is likely as well.

Those points alone, to yet again a CHILD no less, seem more than enough to cause some traumatic impact, and depending on certain specifics of what exactly went on during that time, it could be worse. I may make a post looking into the long lasting effects of this on Asra, I may not. It would mostly be headcanon regardless. If you want to add your hc relating to this situation though, I'll gladly reblog it!

And now that we are closing out, it's time to revise my summary. So, without further ado, THIS is what I think was going on during this time.

Lucio knows of Asras existence and parentage.

Lucio learns Asra is around and that he's got power.

Lucio LOVES power, so he threatens Asra into working for him.

Lucio uses Asra for his power and to be taught how to use it for himself.

While using Asra for his knowledge and power, runs him into the ground by pushing his limits to physical and magical degrees, possibly even moral.

Asra pushes back against a lot of this, or is at least percieved to, frustrating Lucio.

Lucio does what he can to try and control Asra even more, primarily via fear, but can't seem to crack him.

Eventually it's too much, and Asra leaves. Likely when the plague hit like Muriel, but it's possible it could've been somewhat sooner. Lucio is PISSED, because he wanted that magical power all to himself.

Less related, I can see Lucio trying to brush it off and pretending to be fine with it, excuse being "he was too difficult to work with, anyways," or something.

...And then... years later, as far as Lucio sees it, Asra comes crawling back- and he's tamed down to a degree! He's actually working with him. Lucio might not know what or who did it, but Asra is finally broke for him, and I'm sure he was absolutely ecstatic to have that power back in his hands- and more than ever before.

Think of all of this as you would like!

At the end this is all still speculative, so definitely feel free to make your own points or say if you feel any different abt anything- expansions or counters on this theory/headcanon welcome!

And if you also have any other screenshots or info not here that could add to the theory or change the outlook of certain things definitely add them!!! I feel like I'm missing stuff for sure, and my memory has probably muddled some things (hopefully I didn't get anything wrong, though.)

And @asrascherry thanks for the offer in helping word my hcs also! I forgot to say that. This one is just so long I wouldve felt bad bringing it all to you 😔 it's probably still messy as a result but I tried lmao (worried it's repetitive or unclear 😬)

Uh yeah! That's mostly it for NOW.

+All the love to Asra for going through so much I'm so sorry bb,,

Thanks for reading!

[asmo-ds]

maybe a request?? idk, anyways, imagine if mc and belphie became friends when he was locked up, like they would sneak to the attic and see him and they would cuddle and nap together and they'd just do things together. belphie still betrays them tho even if in his mind he just grew to tolerate them and the aftermath of the betrayal and how would their relationship be like. i just feel like reading angst tbh- i love your account and i hope you'll like my request👉🏻👈🏻

I Thought We Were Friends?

Belphegor x GN!MC angst

Warnings: Chapter 16 spoilers, death, no happy ending

Summary: When you get sent back to the morning of Belphegor’s escape to figure out how he had gotten out, you are saddened to see what would have happened if the brothers hadn’t come home as soon as they had in your own timeline. Belphegor had been your best friend and he ruins it forever.

You stood in the entrance hall during the dark Devildom morning, saying goodbye to the six eldest brothers as they left for an important student council meeting you were told would most likely last all night. 

You had been here what felt like years ago but, in reality, was a day at most. Barbatos had sent you back in time on a quest to figure out how Belphegor had gotten out of the attic without Lucifer’s power. So here you stood, beginning your day all over again to retrace your steps and find the truth so that Belphegor would be freed from Diavolo’s dungeon.

“MC,” the raven-haired eldest began, “keep to yourself and behave while we are gone.” Lucifer looked down at you with a murderous gaze, clearly worried about the determination you had been showing to go up the stairs recently. Little did he know, you had been up multiple times while he was either asleep or at the Demon Lord’s castle. You knew his youngest brother was locked away up there and you had been keeping him company as you waited to be able to form a pact with the last of them. 

Belphegor and yourself had grown quite close actually, to the point you were sure he knew more about you than even Mammon did, and we all know how nosey the avatar of greed tends to be. You often sneaked up there when you stayed home sick to nap beside the bars that locked him in the room, where he’d lay and reach a hand between the metal to either hold your hand or pet your hair.

You had made pacts with all his brothers except for Lucifer at this point and Belphegor had been growing sort of nervous, which you had assumed to be nervousness to see his brothers after so long being held captive in his own home.

“Of course! When do I not?” you smiled sarcastically at Lucifer, earning a snicker from Satan as he waved and joined his brothers who were waiting outside. “I mean it, MC, there are things - living things even - here that can and will hurt you,” He looks you straight in the eye with an almost concerned look. “I would bring you along where you’d be safer but the meeting concerns the exchange program and some classified information about it so I cannot have you there per Diavolo’s request.”

“I understand Lucifer, I promise to be good,” you nod as he walks out of the house. You run to the window watching as they all walk down the street, and the second they are out of sight you sprint up the stairs, tripping over your own feet a few times along the way.

You peek into your room to see your past self still sound asleep, just as you had been on the fateful morning of Belphegor’s escape. You shivered at the sight of your own body and how odd of a situation you were in as you closed the door running once more, this time up the stairs.

“Belphie!” you called out of breath, frantically looking around as you reached the top of the stairs. The sight of the attic door being gone ran a chill up your spine. You had no idea it had happened so early in the morning as he didn’t reveal himself for a while. “Belphie, where are you?!”

You look behind curtains and in a closet, searching for the messy hair and violet eyes you’d grown to love. You collapse to your knees panting from your rush to find him. If he’d already out how am I supposed to figure out how it happened? You thought to yourself.

You decide to hide and wait for the demon to return, crawling under the attic’s bed and sitting in an eerie silence for at least an hour, sweat beginning to form on your forehead.

You let out a sigh realizing he probably won’t return to the attic he’d been held prisoner in and decide to get out from your hiding spot. As you stand a shrill shriek and sobs can be heard echoing through the house. You recognize the voice as your own and before you know it you tower over your own crippled body, bleeding and wheezing for air as the avatar of sloth stood feet away cackling at your misery.

The hands that once pet your hair and helped you sleep now covered in blood, violet eyes feral and filled with bloodlust, teeth that smiled at you once now covered in chunks of your own flesh. You didn’t know this demon. There’s no way. 

You back up slowly, trying to avoid gaining the attention of the demon wh had just brutally slaughtered your past self. Just to your luck though, your foot lands on a squeaky floorboard, causing Belphegor’s head to whip around and a low growl to leave his chest. 

“Belphie…” You breathe out, blinking away hot tears that blurred your vision, “w-why? What have you done?!” You can’t hold back your screams anymore as you fall to the ground and sob, unable to run away as you stare at your own lifeless eyes.

“You already know about Lilith, both Beel and I have told you about her,” a sickening voice snarls in your direction. You keep your head down unable to comprehend the situation. Belphegor was the person who you felt safest being around in the Devildom, why would he do this to you?

You feel a clawed hand suddenly grip around your throat, lifting you until your toes barely touched the ground. “I’m not sure why there are two of you, but it doesn’t matter, just means more fun for me!” He cackled staring at you, waiting for you to lift your eyes and show him how afraid you were now that he’d revealed his true form.

“S-she li-” you try to choke out but are silenced by the hand tightening around your throat, constricting your airway and leaving you to claw at his wrist. You look into his eyes and see a flash of guilt for maybe half a second before your thrown down the stairs, leading in front of the front door. You knew they’d be back any minute now, they said they’d be back before dinner and it was dinner time now so they were bound to show up and save you.

“You are so fucking unbelievable, haha, you really were gullible enough to believe a demon could care for a human even in the slightest bit!” he laughed and laughed at your pain, possessed by his hatred and refusing to think clearly. You hear him snarl and see him lunging, about to pounce at you again and you cover your head bracing for impact as he leaps.

You are shocked to instead hear a loud crash and open your eyes to see back feathers wrapped around your body, cradling you and protecting you from whatever was going on outside the dark shelter of Lucifer’s wings. You bury your face into his chest, apologizing and weeping as your body ached. He brought a hand up to pat your blood covered hair and sympathetically winced at the injury. As you lose blood you hear more people show up, Barbatos and Diavolo explaining the situation to the brothers who all gasp.

Hearing Belphegor’s voice sounding regretful made you sick. You heard footsteps approaching and the familiar voice says your name softly, petting your hair as he had done many times before.

You whine and try to pull yourself impossibly closer to Lucifer who stood up and said some things your dizzy self could no longer understand. The last thing you remember before you lost consciousness was seeing Belphegor standing there staring at you with tears in his eyes and a terrified look on his face.  The last thing you hear is his voice cracking as he screams your name with more pain than you’d ever heard in someone’s voice.