#lots of bits of the episode wound me up but I see it was a cheap one and that’s sort of fair. did it all have to be one scene

[generalmelchett]

It was so Moffat to write a full conversation between the Doctor and an unconscious woman where, because her lifeless body is of use to him as a sounding board, the Doctor can still very cleverly demonstrate he has worked everything out. A sexy lamp moment. A sexy, dead lamp moment.

[bakatenshii]

ANGEL YOURE BACK YOURE BACK YOURE BACK!!!!!:&/&&,&/@&;; oki so when I watched Arcane and Silco and the modified version of Viktor popped up I immediately thought of you. I was like….this is very bakatenshii taste. Silco is literally so beautiful. I am scrambling begging dying to find good fics for him

THIS IS SO AOOXPAIZOAISPZ THANK U <333 FOR THINKING OF ME OMFG i kneeee when i saw silcos scar and one eye i was donesies it was game over for me, they really ripped him straight from my cranium ughhg AND HES OLD. ive been rly enjoying me slightly decrepit miserable old men recently and he rly tickles my neuron heh

so very honoured that u thought of me omfg i think i just have such an obvious and consistent taste HAHAHAHA wait im gonna mention some spoilers in the tags ARCANE SPOILERS IN THE TAG !!!! (dont open them if u dont want to see them pls xx)

let me know if you find any good silco fics tho omg i am mmmmm

[keets-writing-corner]

Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??

As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue

the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD

He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.

like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...

The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"

and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it

does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING

like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow

For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat

Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation

Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with

Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)

But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time

Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell

Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch

idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room

[pushingdaisies1]

ok so i'm new to your blog so i'm not 100% sure how you usually do requests but I would kill for a fic where the reader gets an injury (not life threatening) patched up by another character. Dae-ho came to my mind first tbh but you could literally do whoever. i'm not sure if you do multiple characters in one post or not so take this request however you like!

"Dont look at me with those eyes" . . . ♡

. ⟣ㅤㅤ˳ㅤㅤ︵︵ㅤ ୨ ୧ ㅤ︵︵ㅤㅤˑㅤㅤ⟢ ,

-> PAIRING: Kang Dae-Ho (Player 388) x Reader! -> SUMMARY: Falling into these games was like a hard-hitting reminder of your status on the food chain. Always the one to sell yourself out and break yourself completely to help loved ones make it up to the top. You were the lowest of the low, a runt. A runt with a big and burning heart. But meeting Dae-ho was like a soft blanket being wrapped around you. In your first interaction alone, even though you were playing with your lives, he was like a beacon of strangely placed hope. Soon becoming acquainted with the "quickly assembled" team Mr. Player 456 (Seong Gihun) had formed, you had found quick allies with the group of men and Jun-hee. After the third game, you had taken a pretty bad blow to your leg from another scattering player. Dae-ho notices, and knows that he can't let a partner limp back without lending a helping hand. That made you like him so much, he was a helpful, hopeful fool. It made your teeth grind against other teeth as you watched him care for you so carefully. You were almost like glass in his hands. -> WARNINGS: Descriptions of violence (mingle was brutal), Not entirely proof read.., Descriptions and talks of injured/dislocated ankle, I use y/n like once LOL, I kinda fudged the "rules" of the second game don't mind that heh, I don't know how to treat wounds so it WILL be incorrect!, angst(?), Dae-ho being a cutie patootie!! -> AUTHORS NOTE: Aghhh first ever request, I love this idea, and tysm for sending one in! Dae-ho became a quick favorite of mine, especially after the fourth episode. He's so sweet and the most gentle character in the show. I love his vulnerability and warmth as an ex-marine and clear victim of toxic masculinity in his life. He's genuinely a top favorite of mine. I do apologize if this is a tad bit too long for anybody's tastes. I had a lot of fun with this request as you can see heh. I'll be using him (Dae-ho) for this one, but yes for reference next time ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗I don't mind doing multiple characters in one request <3!! Don’t be afraid to send in other characters , enjoy.. ^_^

. ─── ୨ৎ ─────── ୨ৎ ─────── ୨ৎ ─── ' . The fact that you had survived past the first and second games was shocking. You hadn't expected to see players littered down with bullets when playing a game calling back to your younger days. One by one it was like watching chickens be plucked from the coop. Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you tried your hardest to stay as still as possible. Thank the heavens you didn't end up in front of the so-called "rap legend" who was pushing people left and right. In your held-back panic, you had found a point of focus. A specific player amongst the herd had more so shouted for people to stand behind others taller than them.

Stay crouched down behind the back of another and the doll shouldn't recognise your movement. As hurried steps padded against the sandy ground, you found yourself lined up behind a taller man. His hair was pulled up halfway, with a tiny ponytail atop his head. If you weren't in a life-or-death scenario you would've had a nice quick chuckle about it. His stature was easy to hide behind in the hurried chaos. As others were being shot down among the organized crowd, your feet had almost lost footing. Your stance had faltered after someone directly behind you had gotten shot by one of the sniper perks. You felt your legs begin to tremble as your back was littered with the victim's blood.

You were so close to ruining this somewhat assorted line when you felt a hand clasp your wrist. Shockingly you didn't jerk out of line, it was in actuality a steadying grip. In quick succession, he'd murmur to you, a stranger behind him. "I got you, just keep l-looking ahead." Even though his voice was trembling he still sounded like a courageous hero to you. So quickly you were able to steady your legs, and before you could hesitate anymore it was time to move. Reaching across the finish line was like a breath of fresh air. Pretty much getting all the air knocked back into your lungs. You couldn't have fallen harder against the ground after you had thrown yourself over. Locking eyes with the young man that was standing beside you. He was almost cracking a carefree smile as he soon realized that he'd too made it out alive.

Seeing you on the ground he immediately offered you a hand. If this was all in a different context, you would've been feeling more butterflies in your chest than you already had. But you had almost died just a couple seconds ago. You were grateful for his steady hands, so you hopped at the opportunity to have him pull you up on your feet.

In hindsight, you probably looked like a nut job as specks of sand littered the jacket you and every other player adorned. His grip was firm as he excitedly shook your hand. "You were a tough one out there! I'm glad to see you make it." He said with a beaming smile. The announcements drowned out your thoughts as players' numbers were being called out with their eliminations.

Your eyes were a lot more shaky as you nodded your head in response and recognition. "It's in all thanks to you. You practically saved my life. I am forever in your debt.." Words trailing off as you didn't know his name, at all. He probably had the name of an action hero or a true trailblazer. Was luck finally on your side? Did you make a friend in this horrifying ordeal?

Everything was buzzing all around between the two of you. The doll Young-hee repeats the same two phrases over and over again. As your surroundings became pure noise, you found comfort in focusing on his face and its features. His grip on your hand with firm, giving you one final good squeeze as your hands fell to your own respective sides. "Kang, Kang Dae-ho." He had this almost palpable warmth. It made you feel all mushy on the inside for unknown reasons. You'd let out a sigh of almost relief as your lip quivered. "Thank you for saving my life, Kang Dae-ho." Your eyes grew glazed over with unshed tears. No regular person has ever been this close to death. A completely and utterly helpful stranger just saved you. Your chest was pounding with emotion but there was no time for that. The timer was quicking ticking down and both of your attentions were collectively drawn to the scene in front of you.

The "freeze" man from before and a woman both tried to carry over an injured player. The triumphant moment was killed as people erupted into cheers, and the injured soul was shot for the final time in the head. The first game came and went. The prize money was introduced and soon the stakes were raised. Voting amongst the players was almost coming too close to starting a fight. Some people wanted to leave off the bat.

After witnessing the carnage and violence being displayed in only the first game out of six. So many lives were lost, and the prize money shined like a golden nugget. It was like the largest golden ticket out of tremendous piles of debt. Which you were suffering with.

So even with protests and bated breaths, your fist firmly pressed down onto the 'O' button. You wore it like a badge of shame on your chest. A reminder of your shameless greed, judgemental stares burned into the back of your head. When people dispersed and went to different areas around the room, you were somber. You felt shameful as you contemplated your decision.

It was so close to a tie. Your vote could've done so much. But your debt wouldn't have been fixed. You would still have creditors hounding after you for your money. You were screwed either way. The jacket was large enough for you to be able to burry yourself inside of it , in both shame and fatigue.

You were shocked that they were handing out containers of food. With how sightly sickening the first game was. But ya' know, have to keep the prized pigs well-fed to continue on. You slunk back as you immediately dug into the food you were given. You weren't focusing on taste or texture. It tasted like home, so you didn't hesitate to scarf it down in quick succession. Your eyes looked in front of you, examining the walls and the layers of beds. Players either sat by themselves eating what they had , or were already starting to make connections with other poor unfortunate souls. Something caught your eye as you were people-watching. A group of game participants, who had voted the same as you did were walking over to the previous player. You could remember the desperation that clung to his voice. Especially when other players were brushing off his words during the voting. You saw that same familiar face who also risked his life to save yours. It was the most commotion in the room. Leaving your tin and your half-drunken water bottle on your mattress, you scooted off and gently found your footing. You placed one shoe in front of the other as you watched players dispersing away, the sounds coming from them not pleasant ones. What could've been said to make that many people storm off with such unpleasant looks on their faces?

You approached the men with skittish hands and determination in your mind. Alliances and teaming up with players may be the utmost needed in these games. Making friendly with someone whos played these children's games before could give you and others the boost needed to survive. Player 390 sounded determined as well. Especially talking up his friend as a previous player. Or... were they friends? The man just seemed like a friendly soul.

As Dae-ho was addressing the men with profound respect and camaraderie, you sort of appeared beside him. "I'm sorry to interrupt but..." Dae-hos eyes expanded when seeing you, his hand meeting your back in a rather firm pat. "Ah! , Have you come to join our team as well?" Your cheeks grew warm as suddenly you were on the spot. But admittedly that was your fault. "I-I- I heard the commotion over here, are you looking for one more person?" Your voice was small and meek. '456' looked at you, his eyes cold with glimpses of warmth in those pupils. To the looks of it, it appeared like he was trying to give you room to speak. "No matter the game, having allies is always good to have. You seem like a group of good men... I don't want to die so soon. Please, your consideration would mean the most."

'001' cracked a small smile. "I don't have a problem with it." His voice was smooth ... almost hollow. You didn't focus on demeanor, only happy to see such graciousness. '456' bit back a sigh, his face a little less solemn after watching the scene in front of him between Dae-ho and player '390.' Both their sleeve rolled up, showing off their similar Marine tattoos. Before he could get a word in, you spoke up once again. "I voted to continue on because of you. You surely have enough wisdom to carry the players participating. My vote wasn't one out of malice. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place-" He put a hand out to stop you from talking anymore. "You don't need to explain yourself to me. I have no problem with you joining us, you seem to be a good kid." You took his words and ran with it. Dae-ho couldn't help but chime in. "I ran into them in the first game! They are as courageous as an ex-marine like myself." Your eyes expanded in utter confusion, no? "I'm flattered but-" '390' cut you off with a broad smile. "It's settled then, we are a full team! It is nice to meet you." The conversation was pulled away once so quickly a fight broke out. Player '001' stepped in to stop the fight once player 390 and Dae-ho stood back. You felt even safer grouping up with the four as you watched the older man quiet up the so-called 'Thanos' and his friend. Maybe you would leave the next game with your head still on your shoulders. In the dead of night, Dae-ho made sure to remind you about what the next game most likely would be. You tried to be the most quiet you could be as you made your way out of your bunk.

Why was he being so nice to you? You didn't expect to find somebody with such a welcoming atmosphere in the surroundings you were.. momentarily stuck in until the next vote. Sleep came and went, the first game haunting your mind. You may have been only able to get one to two hours of sleep at most. Trying to be as positive as you could be for this new day. Dalgona shouldn't be so bad.

When the second game was officially revealed your mind took a sharp turn to "I'm screwed." But still, your team stuck together. It couldn't be Dalgona if they were having players pair together in teams. Still though, with a previous player in the team mix, everything should go off smoothly.

Since he has seen this all before one way or another. The trust was already palpable amongst each other, you make this game your bitch. Player '222' was a happily added addition. You couldn't help but immediately clamor at having her join. The clock was already down to one minute. There was little time to spare to find one more person to finish up your group. She looked to be very capable, and it was immoral to leave a pregnant woman with no team. Soon the game was explained, as well as the inclusion of minigames in between.

You were one of the last teams. So you all took the time to watch every person's strategies and techniques. Especially the teams who actually.. made it out alive.

Victory at all costs! , player '390' had you all say as you joined hands atop of one another. Finally, you were brought up to have your ankles latched together. Since you were one of the last teams competing, there was no audience. But fewer distractions meant more focus for minigames that needed ample attention. Right beside player '222' you made sure to help her when she was losing her footing. Her eyes always glanced back to you when along with the others you'd ask if she was okay. Especially having a mighty hand at ddakji! With barely any time your team made it out alive. Once again the moment was killed by the sound of gunfire. Watching as the guards lay bullets into the team you were expecting to see finish alongside. You all were just glad you made it out alive. Coming back into the main room, the energy in the room was bubbling for conflict. You and your fellow teammates fell back to the side, introducing yourselves and getting closer to one another. When the vote was incoming you knew you weren't going to pick the option you had picked yesterday. But, if you were stuck playing one more game with these people, you felt your odds were better than before. As the masked guards came in to congratulate the players on the game, voting started up soon after. The piggy bank was a still painful reminder of what was at stake. All the money that equaled people's lives. Something in your gut was telling you that the vote wasn't going to end in your group's favor. But still, you walked up to the box, your hand pressing firmly on the 'X' button. Your hand quickly yanked off the patch on your chest to trade it out. You felt like some of the guilt lifted off your shoulders. The money was at least enough to pay off a good chunk of your debts. Getting out of here would mean you could find a way to spend your money smarter while your heart was still beating.

Filling into the 'X' side of the room, you saw that the 'O' vote count only went up and up. It made you feel almost queasy seeing the blue side of the room get larger and larger.

You stood right beside Dae-ho as your hands lingered towards his. His pinkie wrapped gently around yours, almost like a comforting gesture.

Maybe it was out of pity you had no clue on your mind. The bunched-up group waited with bated breath to see if maybe the vote would change in favor. Your face showed your shock and hurt, similar to the others on your side. One more game meant more bodies to be left astray. The air was palpable with hurt as the guards pulled back, announcing that a third game would be happening soon. Even though Jung-bae was a part of the major vote, you all still tried to stay positive. Especially on Young-Ils intervention as Gi-hun lamented about the ferociousness of the potential third game. Lights out soon came, the piggy bank in the middle giving the dark and depressing room a warm glow.

Your team had made a fort amongst the empty beds of the fallen players. You found some sort of peace as you and Dae-oh slept side by side in that compact space under the bed. Having a warm body next to you was nice in these trying times.

Morning came quicker than you had expected. Young-Il was already awake as you all arose from sleep. Like clockwork, the guards came in and escorted all the players to the next game. Some were more excited than others, you were currently just trying to keep your head steady. The pleasant conversation was killed once you all got higher up the long and winding staircases. After taking all that time you were finally brought to the third game. The doors in front of you opened as the guards filled out into the room. This new room was large and almost too grand. Its walls were a warm pale yellow with grand designs. You had all pretty much walked inside a large music box. In the middle of there stood tall a carousel. The PA system introduced the game, Mingle. Jung-bae had familiarity with the game, describing it as a game to pass the time on school trips. The team began to talk about potential strategy and game specifics. "What if it is smaller than five? Like three ... or four?" Dae-ho croaked out in response. You'd turn to him with a focused look in your eye. "We should be able to split off evenly if it's three." Everyone in recognition as Young-Il spoke up. "No matter what happens don't panic. Let's stay calm." "We'll all make it out together, here." On queue, his hand fell out in front of everyone huddled up. One by one all your hands fell atop of each other. The last one to finish up this was Gi-hun, and soon came the "One - Two - Three."

Quickly everyone was ushered onto the platform, and then the game would officially begin. The lights in the room would become harsher and more dramatic as the music started up, and soon would the spinning platform. As the PA system explained beforehand, numbers started to be called out. Ten was easy as you and another familiar group consisting of the older woman, her son, and the two other girls rushed into a room. Relief took over your bones and your bunch had made it in a room just in time. Horrified screams and shouts for mercy could be heard just outside the door. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest cavity as the locks rhythmically unlocked. Soon all players were now back atop the platform. The slow spinning motion of the large circle was almost sickening; when your eyes focused on the littered blood. But feeling Dae-hos hand firmly hold your shoulder, you snapped back into reality. The whirring motions abruptly stopped, causing you to barely lose your balance. The familiar monotone female voice of the PA system clicked to life, "Four." Immediately the lights started to flash, and your head jerked around to look at your other teammates. Counting heads, you all wouldn't have fit into one room of course. Without getting gunned down by the eventual guards. Gi-hun tried to say something but Young-Il already was grabbing your hand, shouting for two more people. Jung-bae already took the initiative as he pulled Jun-hee and guided the others into a vacant room. A scuffle happened amid the panicking players. You and Young-il had found two other players able to fill the room. But another man tried to push in, inevitably shoving you out of the room. Young-il looked like he was able to do something but in the scuffle, your leg met the man's chest. It was a swift kick with a pop ringing in your ears. With seconds to spare, Young-Il dragged you into the room and slammed the door shut. His eyes looked to you showing some semblance of pity. Even with the mortified voices outside and gun fodder, he looked towards you. "Are you alright?" You nodded as you readjusted your back pressed up against the wall. "Yeah, I'm okay ... he wasn't letting up." Trying to crack a joke clearly didn't work for the mood in the room. The two other players stayed silent, lips trembling with fear as a nightmare happened beyond the door. Young-Il gave you a glimpse of the smile before offering you a hand. "Here, that didn't sound pretty." He replied calmly as he helped you keep steady on your better leg. Soon everyone was let out of their respective rooms once again. The counter on the wall is now down to "168." On the other side of the room, you and Young-Il excited. Even as much as you tried to resist his help your leg was stinging like hell. The distant voices of Jung-bae and Dae-ho could be heard. "Brother Young-Il, Y/n!" Along with your other fellow teammates. Young-Il flashed his teeth in a smile as he called back. "Gi-hun!" You two rushed back together, you slightly lagging behind him. But he didn't seem to take any mind to it. In fact, trying to make sure you didn't damage your injured leg any more than it already was. You were met with the sight of your relieved friends. Jung-bae was immediately joyously welcoming the two of you back. "I was worried, I'm glad you two made it back." Gi-hun addressed the two of you. Young-Il had the biggest charismatic grin on his face.

"I'm a social guy, so I'm pretty good at these kinds of games." You chuckled alongside Jung-bae as the air around you all settled. This calm was weird but it was welcomed by you. "I just kinda held on tight and hoped I wouldn't get trampled along the way, seems like it works." Jung-bae nodded firmly as he patted your back, the wind leaving your lungs. "It sure did! I knew you two would make it out in one piece, I did." Dae-hos eyes wandered to your limp. He frowned at the sight of you holding back simmering pain. It all kinda just mixed into the worry already present on his face. But the joke Young-Il made definitely eased up tension. "Ohh... In her tummy?" It was a perfectly timed response to even get Gi-hun to let out some tension with a laugh. You felt well about this entire ordeal, seeing the warmth in everyone's faces. The next round was about to begin. Dae-ho turned his attention to you, pointing down to your leg. "Eh? - what happened with you?" His eyes showed genuine worry. He didn't want to lose you... maybe. "I'm fine, I just got caught up in the crowd when me and Young-Il were trying to find others." You tried to wave off his concerns, but he would place a reassuring hand on your arm, gently squeezing the bicep. "Your leg looks pretty torn up, on second thought don't look down. The sight before him was a bone prodding at the skin of your ankle. This wasn't good, you needed to be able to run! His breathing was panicked as his eyes darted around. "I-please be careful, it doesn't look so good. L-let me help you relieve pressure on it, hop." His arm extended for you to hold onto it. You gritted your teeth as you linked your arm with his. One foot, two foot repeated in your head as every remaining player returned to the platform. The numbers continued to be announced. Three, Six, and then Two. You didn't expect yourself to survive the last one. But a girl... You had seen her before hanging out with the guy who called himself Thanos. She had practically thrown you into a room. As the door clicked shut you finally could relax your one leg against the wall. She didn't really say much to you. "Thank you... thank you." You repeated, and your head nodded also repeatedly. "We saved each other, so thank - you." She replied.

Her tone was brief and almost bitter but who wouldn't be after witnessing what they had witnessed. Finally, it was all over, this game of doom. The walk down the stairs was brutal on your ankle. Your mind was so focused on the burning pain that you could only listen to somewhat of what Dae-ho was saying ... for ... moral support?

Quickly he swooped his arm back under yours. As players filled into the room , this was a moment of rest. Jung-bae was already counting the heads of players. So at the moment it was best to lay low and wait at the side lines. Perfect for Dae-ho to help you. Bringing you off to the main steps of the beds , he ushered you to sit.

“Okay! Thank you mother hen…” , you’d joke as you sat yourself up straight. Clearly the joke didn’t land as Dae-ho looked at you sternly. Slowly you extended your ankle out to him as he kneeled down in front of your , with an awkward chuckle in between. Immediately assessing your leg you couldn’t help but butt in as you heard him wincing. “What-“

Your eyes expanded seeing what Dae-ho was seeing. Comically you held a hand over your mouth as you gagged. Dae-ho immediately once again tried to calm your nerves. “I can fix it. If I remember correctly.. here.” His hands reached to unzip the zipper of your own jacket to your “tracksuit.” Your hands and his hands collided but by the way he was gesturing to your sleeve , you got what he was putting down.

Your teeth gnawed down on your sleeve. You pulled your eyes away immediately from the sight of your busted ankle. Dae-ho had his hands firmly set around specific points of your ankle. “Breathe in.. and three , two-“ Your ankle sounded off with a loud pop. You felt like you had gotten air brought back into your lungs. A pleased smile grew on his face. His eyes were so kind as he watched you be filled with pain relief. Rolling your ankle to keep it set. You saw him gripping at his shirt sleeve. “Dae-ho.. what are you doing?” You could not get another word as he ripped his sleeve off.

Accidentally you’d gasp as he quickly wrapped the fabric around your relocated ankle. “This should help ease your pain.” You were left speechless , which left him chuckling at your dumbfound-ness. “How did you know how to do that?” You asked him curiously. I mean he was an ex-marine , not just anyone knew how to set an ankle , even a marine. He shrugged his shoulders with a clueless nature. “I’ve had a bone injured one too many times. We also learned it when needing to help tend to fellow injured marines on the spot.” You gave him a look of recognition as you kept that in mind. Your cheeks grew warm as you realized your ankle was still in his gentle grip.

“You’re too kind to me Dae-ho.” You humbly remarked as you once again glanced away. What he responded with was… shocking? Well it’s not like he had let out a bomb of truth on you. But just by the way he responded to you made you feel the biggest of emotions. “We’re friends by now , and maybe I like taking care of you.”

Okay , was he flirting with you? No that was impolite to think. Your mind raced as you were only able to utter out a measly , “I appreciate you.” His head would triumphantly nod. “I appreciate you too , my friend!” In quick succession , you were already being called over by Gi-hun. Him and Young-Il were standing in a sort of corner of space behind empty bunks.

Dae-ho quickly stood up , offering you a hand. “We’re needed.” He’d surmised with an unmistakable grin on his face. Maybe he was feeling butterflies just like you. Repositioning your body , you began to sit up as your hand clasped with his. “We most definitely are.” You remarked in response. Odds be damned , Dae-ho was too good for you.

[keferon]

You all flatter me! Now I am all pumped up to continue on the TF mecha au train. Ratchlock has me in a chokehold. You can't compliment me like that, It goes to my head! I haven't writen anything in like 12 years 😭. Also Yes yes to all the angst. I thrive on it more then the fluffy moments. Jazz and Deadlock/Drift are lining up nicely for a possible meeting. But first Deadlock WILL bath in blood! Wanna see?

****

Ratchet will not let Deadlock follow him around. Nope. Instead he keeps Deadlock on strict bed rest /he's learning human terms in his free time/ with the oh so sweet promise to weld him to the wall if he doesn't listen. He knows better to not test Ratchet, he'd do it no hesitation. Deadlocks fangs and claws only cause a raised eyebrow and wave of a slipper near well... anywhere in Ratchet's swating or throwing range. Since both of them honor their word/glyphic, they made a deal that if Ratchet comes home on time then in return Deadlock will be on his best behavior.

They use every extra moment together to learn, heal, and plot together. Deadlock's wounds are fully healed by now. He is ready to be the guardian knight he vowed to be for Ratchet. Ratchet's knuckles still ache which makes his hands shaky at times, especially when cold, but his squishy perseveres like a true warrior. Deadlock has learned that revving his engine to build up heat and letting Ratchet rest against his chassis helps with those trimmering aches the bioengineer tries to rub out.

He wants to give any comfort he can to Ratchet while he's working in that cursed lab with those ungreatful sacks of slags. He has photos of each one of those fraggers saved in his proccesor. The list only grows the longer they wait to leave. If he can work around Ratchet somehow, he'll cross them off at some point with a deep satisfaction while doing it. Ratchet has been as sly as a turbofox. He's been sidestepping, talking around, and out ranting the higher ups for a while. Deadlock is so proud of him for not backing down or falling silent. Right now Deadlock has the tv playing a sitcom while tinkering with his long range blaster. His audial fins flick as the door opens and closes. Ratchet looks at the show while shrugs his winter coat off, "So has Sam confessed his undying love to the ice cream vender Carly yet?" Ratchet asks walking over to the lazy-e-boy chair.

Deadlock reaches out and taps his back before he can sit down. "Refuel first." He reminds him before going back to tightening some wires. He smiles at the grumble and is pleased when Ratchet listens to him for once and heads to the kitchen, "and no the episode ended with him getting hit by a waste disposal truck. Now it's a filler episode. Jack is trying to get out of going to an Amica Endura's beach party. He is playing up a illness called the pox."

Ratchet comes back with a warm plate of food. Deadlock nods pleased with the portion. Ratchet rolls his eyes and sits down, "They did that same plot with Raphael four seasons ago." He grumbles and bats at Deadlocks claw when he tries to ruffle his hair, "If they drag this out for three episodes like last time I am popping in a different show." Both are content, they banter and complain about the show while Ratchet eats. When Ratchet reclines his lazy-e-boy chair Deadlock puts his weapon away, "They are transferring some of us to a different base in the morning. You know First Aid. They are putting him on a transport to the sister base north east of here. Called the Alpha Blade Strikers."

Deadlock tilts his helm, "That's the one that was visiting here? The commander of that base is the one you knocked out for slagging you off right? You mentioned the base being cursed." He asks leaning forward a bit, his servos tingling for revenge.

"Yes, same place and person. Don't believe in any of that cursed stuff but a lot of talk does go around about it. Mostly one pacific mecha being the main cursed object. First Aid was stressed to tears about being transferred. He had just gotten comfortable here with his friends. I feel a bit bad for the kid." Ratchet mumbles rubbing his face with his unbandged hand.

Deadlock gives a soft smile, "From what you've told me, he keeps his helm down. I am sure he will find friends or leave when he can. But if you are worried I am not opposed to taking him with us."

"We do not kidnap people, Drift. He wouldn't want to come along anyways. He wants to 'do his part for human kind'. Besides it takes him a while to get use to change and the possibility that we may be hunted down once we leave would most likely send him into cardiac arrest." Ratchet tilts his head back gives Deadlock a stern look, "On the topic of leaving we'll need to do that sooner then planned. Something isn't right, I don't like how hyper focused Pharma has gotten with quintessons corpses. Now he is showing intrest in you. He wants to know how I programmed a mecha to be powered by an AI system so flawlessly. It's driving him up a wall to not know. You know, since a mecha has never moved around without a pilot and can not talk. He keeps begging the higher ups to let him 'partner up with me' or let him take over the 'project' since I am just 'playing around with you'."

"Right fine. No kidnapping the youngling. But do not assume we will be the ones being hunted." Deadlock hums amused but turns serious when Pharma is brought up. That name is at the top of his 'don't let Ratchet catch on' splat list, "But me being 'imprinted' on you is keeping them from letting him get his quintessons gut covered servos... Err hands sorry, on me."

Ratchet nods rubbing his face again with a tired sigh, "I made certain they know you'll attack anything that isn't me." Deadlock can tell Ratchet is fighting a yawn. He lays down behind the chair and rumbles his engine. Ratchet's lips twitch with a smile hearing how smooth it's running now, "Pharma has never been a good listener though. Just be on guard okay kid... he's ploting something." Ratchet mumbles soaking up the heat coming from behind him. He tilts his head back against the head rest looking up at Deadlocks handsome, smug, sharp fanged grin, "He tries touching you, you can kill him. Don't let him into your system. I fear what he'd do. Probably make you even more loony and unbearable." The bioengineer yawns his voice full of fondness that makes Deadlock's spark sing.

Deadlock purrs as he gently pets Ratchet's head with a, claw retracted, digit. Ratchet's eyes grow heavy missing the most feral, down right demonic, energon hungry look Deadlock has at the permission to off Pharma, "He will not harm me. But I can tell he has worn on you today. You are more drained then grumpy, your insults are lacking any heat. Recharge Ratchet. I will reconfigure our supplies and time line while you regain your strenght. Then I'll show you in the morning. You can edit it while you fuel." He chuckles as Ratchet grumbles and mumbles at him. His squishy can't fight the cozy warmth and soothing pets. Deadlock's humming engine makes a familiar white noise that has grown to mean safe to Ratchet. In no time Ratchet is out cold. Picking up a blanket with a careful pinch he lays it on top of Ratchet and follows him into recharge.

-- --

They are so close to leaving. They have a place picked out and a time. Their supplies are packed and hidden away with a close friend of Ratchet's. The thing still keeping them on base is Ratchet's need to clear out all of his research. He doesn't want anyone to have anything of his, to have a chance to twist it into something that would cause more harm and death. It's been a tedious process but Ratchet has been deleting his work bit by bit so no one catches on.

Four days before their chosen leave date Ratchet walks into his lab only to be escorted to a debriefing room. One he has have never been to. Deep under the base. He had tried getting anyone to speak up about what's happening but the escorts, six of them for fuck sakes, don't even look at him. His gut instinct is screaming DANGER the deeper they go. His skin is crawling with uneasiness and he is fighting his fight then flight instincts. He taps at the small circler tracker he has in his winter coats collar as subtly as possible. Hoping it looks more like a nervious tick then a trigger to call for help. Hopfully they aren't to far down for it to work. The group stops at a vault door and Ratchet cuts off a growl growing in his throat when one of the 'escorts' pulls out some heavy duty cuffs. "Tell me what reason you have for those or their not going on Spike." He warns fists clenching at his side. He huffs at the click of a gun and someone has the balls to press it into his back.

The young soldier, Spike, frowns and waves his hand at the others behind Ratchet, "Ratchet please it's just procedure. You have saved a lot of our lives don't make us be rough. We don't want to be. Just put them on so I don't get yelled at later." Ratchet narrows his eyes, frown tightening. Spike groans, "I don't know what they want. No one told us anything. Please I am just doing what I was told."

Ratchet can tell Spike is holding his breath, pleading silently for Ratchet to listen. Ratchet does let a growl slip when the guns barrel grinds into his spine. His head snaps around and he glares hard enough to cause pause, "Cut that out, I know exactly how far to shove that to not kill you but make damn sure you wish I did." He snarls as he holds his wrists up to Spike. The comment earns him muffled chuckles and a few glares. Cuffs on Ratchet walks into the room. Spike shoots him an apologetic look as the door closes behind him. With a heavy exhale Ratchet takes in the room. A concrete floor, circular shaped room with thick metal walls. Cameras line the ceiling edges. His exhale catches in his throat as the metal walls start rolling up to reveal bullet proof glass filled with quintessons in various stages of dissection and tests. "We have another sublevel secret lab bellow our sublevel secret lab. Of course we do." Ratchet mumbles flatly to pissed off he didn't know this base was more fucked up then he thought then to be scared.

Speakers crackle on and an annoying whine comes through, "Not the reaction I was hoping for. Come on Ratch buddy show a bit more emotion then that. Less grump more begging maybe? At least shock." Pharma's voice chimes around him in an irritating way.

"Looks like all of this has been going on for a while. Why bring me into this now Pharma?" Ratchet says calmly since that seems to piss Pharma off more. He looks at his cuffed wrists and his blood runs cold as the hair on his neck stands on end. Goosebumps cover his arms making him shudder under the heavy coat, "I am not here for shop talk."

"Mmhmm, I am going to miss that snarky brain of yours Ratchy. But you did do a lot of things that put the base in danger. Security has taken notice of a lot of data, intel, cameras and video footage being tampered with." Pharma almost has a mocking sing songy tone to him. Strange, Ratchet knows he didn't tamper with anything that would jeopardized the security of the base. Definitely not the cameras or video footage, "You know what you've done and what we do to traitors. I already have received the ok to take over your work. The good commander is allowing me to say goodbye to you since we were such good old friends. Don't worry. I'll take good care of your Mecha." Yeah, Pharma sounds real choked up about all this, Ratchet rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, he'll take care of you Pharma." Ratchet keeps his tone and body language nonchalant as he studies the cuffs. He takes note of the little bit of gap, if he dislocates his thumbs.. "Only thing that's annoying about all of this is I'll be late getting home."

"I swear you are boring me to death on purpose Ratchet!!" Pharma snarls as a thud noise rings through the speakers

"Oh could I be so lucky?" Ratchet sighs sounding hopeful. He stiffens as the room lights turn red and multiple hisses of compressed air being released surrounds him. A robotic voice rings out a warning that the test subjects are being released. Ratchet whips his head around stepping in a circle as snarles and screeches drowned out the warnings. Ratchet steadies his breathing as best he can as his hands trimble and heart beats wildly. Deadlock would be livid if he doesn't go down giving it his all to get back to him. Ratchet would be just as pissed to, "I'll do what I can but you better hurry kid..."

-- --

"You weren't suppose to do that Pharma." A flat voice speaks up from behind Pharma after picking up the chair he had kicked away. Pharma scoffs and grumbles, "You are not even going to ask him what he ment by being late to his quarters?" The chief of security drones on.

"Be sure to capture all angles. I want detailed shots of it all." Pharma growls removings his hand from the release butten he hit hard enough to crack. "You are being paranoid per usual. Don't tell me you never heard the rammblings of a dying man?" Pharma sighs, with a dramatic flick of his wrist he walks out of the room.

"No, but I imagine I will soon enough." The security director mumbles under his breath. Reaching over the chair he resets the cameras.

OH. OH THEY ARE FUUUUUUCKED

OH THEY ARE SO SO INCREDIBLY FUCKED THEY ARE GONNA GET SPREAD EVENLY ALL OVER THE FLOOR AND I WANNA SEE IT SO B A D

Next

[reidmarieprentiss]

Could I please request Spencer & Fem Reader based on the episode 9x24 when he gets shot and reader is super worried about him so is comforting him and doing all she can to make sure he’s ok and just fretting over him and on the jet she’s helping him in and just sitting with him next to the couch, brushing his hair so he sleeps. Just lots of cuddles. Maybe overbearing for Spencer because he’s not used to being the one taken care of since it’s usually vise versa. Thanks!!

Wounds: Physical & Emotional

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, hurt

Warnings/Includes: aftermath of Spencer getting shot, reader being overbearing, Spencer snapping, no happy ending

Word count: 2.1k

a/n: hiii i hope this is okay <33 i needed some angst so this was perfect

main masterlist

The atmosphere in the hospital room was filled with a quiet tension, the sterile smell of antiseptics mingling with the dull hum of machines. Spencer lay there, eyes half-open, a little pale and looking both exhausted and grateful just to be alive. His neck, wrapped in fresh bandages, still bore the marks of his ordeal, a stark reminder of how close he’d come to something irreversible.

You stood by his bedside, fingers gently resting on the thin hospital blanket, as if the mere act of touching it could somehow channel some of your strength to him. You'd been pacing the hallway for what felt like hours, running through every worst-case scenario, but finally seeing him, hearing the faint sound of his breathing steady and rhythmic—it brought a wave of relief so overwhelming it nearly took you to your knees.

As his eyes fluttered open, a soft but tired smile curved on his lips when he saw you there. “You… you really didn’t have to stay,” he murmured, his voice a bit strained, weakened from both the injury and the exhaustion that came with it.

You shook your head immediately, your hand instinctively reaching for his, fingers wrapping around his gently. “Don’t even say that, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, each word infused with the worry you’d been bottling up since the moment you’d found out he’d been hurt. “There’s nowhere else I would be. You… I was so scared.”

He squeezed your hand weakly, his thumb tracing a small, reassuring pattern against your knuckles. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I know... I know how it must've felt, seeing me like that."

“No, no,” you replied quickly, shaking your head. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. None of this was your fault. You just… you’re always putting yourself out there for everyone else, and… Spencer, I can’t lose you. Not like that.”

His gaze softened as he looked up at you, the slight sheen of tears glistening in your eyes. He’d seen you in countless stressful situations, through endless cases and late-night work sessions, but this—this was different. “I’m still here,” he assured, his voice barely above a whisper, but steady. “I’m still here.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out and brushing a loose strand of hair from his forehead, your fingertips lingering, just relieved to feel the warmth of his skin beneath them. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that,” you replied, your voice catching. “I didn’t… I didn’t know if I’d get to.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch, letting himself be comforted by your presence. The weight of what he’d been through hung between you both, unspoken yet deeply felt. It was as though your silent worry, your prayers for his survival, had wrapped around him, bringing him back.

“Are you… are you comfortable? Do you need anything?” you asked, your voice barely louder than a whisper, but still filled with all the care and concern that had carried you through those agonizing hours of waiting.

He chuckled softly, a little hoarse, but there was a warmth in his eyes as he shook his head. “Just having you here is… more than enough,” he replied, his hand squeezing yours a little more firmly, a silent acknowledgment of how much it meant to him that you’d stayed, that you were there.

Your hand drifted from his forehead to his cheek, your thumb softly tracing the edge of his jaw, and for a moment, he simply closed his eyes, letting himself rest, letting himself lean on you.

“Promise me,” you said softly, breaking the quiet that had settled over you both. “Promise me you’ll be more careful next time, that… that you won’t go scaring me like this again.”

He opened his eyes, looking up at you, a small, apologetic smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll try,” he whispered. “But you know me…”

You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile of your own finally breaking through the worry. “Yeah, I do,” you murmured, shaking your head fondly. “Which is exactly why I’ll be here, making sure you keep that promise.”

—

Your concern for Spencer had taken on a life of its own, a constant, consuming presence that followed him from the hospital back to work and even into the comfort of his own home. Every glance his way was laden with worry, every touch a check for signs of strain or pain, an endless stream of small but deeply attentive gestures. It seemed you couldn’t stop yourself from fretting over him, as if that watchful care alone could ensure his safety and recovery.

On the jet, you were never far from his side. When he tried to settle into the couch, you followed, bringing a small pillow and blanket, making sure he was comfortable, even sitting right beside him as if to act as a physical buffer against anything that might cause him pain. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” you whispered for what felt like the tenth time, fingers gently brushing a stray curl from his forehead. You stayed close, sometimes pulling a chair beside him, sometimes gently brushing your fingers through his hair in a rhythm that would lull him to sleep. Every time he shifted or opened his eyes, he found you right there, watching him with that same blend of worry and tenderness.

But back at home, your concern reached new levels. You simply couldn’t bear the idea of leaving him to fend for himself—not after what he’d just gone through. Any movement he made was met with your insistent, gentle intervention. “No, no,” you’d say softly but firmly when he reached for the coffee pot or attempted to carry anything from the kitchen. “I’ve got it. You’re supposed to be resting.” You’d guide him back to the couch or bed, a hand on his shoulder as if you thought he might collapse any moment if left unattended.

He found himself surrounded by the constant reminders of your care: you’d already brought him fresh coffee, placed his favorite books within easy reach, even left snacks and water close by. You practically fussed over him like he was made of glass, which at first he found touching. There was an odd but comforting warmth in how your love translated into these little gestures of support.

In the quiet intimacy of his apartment, you’d taken to accompanying him into the bathroom, even the shower, ensuring he was never alone. “I just… I can’t bear to leave you alone yet,” you’d said with a nervous laugh the first time, reaching for his hand. “It makes me feel better, okay?” 

Spencer, both surprised and touched, had reluctantly agreed, though he couldn’t deny the awkwardness. You watched him carefully as he bathed, helping him wash himself, bringing him his towel, even brushing his hair afterward with the same attention you give every one of his movements. 

Every small thing, even the routine act of bathing, became a moment for you to ensure his well-being. And while it was comforting, he found himself increasingly confined by your constant care.

Finally, it became too much. Spencer, who had always prided himself on his independence, was beginning to feel suffocated, trapped by the very love that usually gave him comfort and strength. He’d always been the one to look after others, the quiet pillar of support, and the sudden inversion had been tolerable at first. But as the days wore on, he found himself unable to breathe under the weight of it.

One evening, after yet another shower where you hovered nearby, he reached a breaking point. Just as he reached for the towel, he looked up seeing you already holding it, his face was now laced with frustration and fatigue. “Can’t you… can’t you just give me a little space?” he snapped, his voice louder than he intended, sharp enough to startle you.

The words hung in the air, and you looked at him, taken aback by the sudden tension in his voice. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, the frustration evident as he struggled to put his feelings into words. “I know you’re worried about me—I know. But you won’t even let me bathe alone,” he continued, his tone edged with an exasperation that mirrored how he felt. “I can’t even think for five minutes without you hovering!”

You took a shaky breath, hurt and confusion clouding your expression as you tried to process his outburst. “I… I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” you said softly, your voice breaking with the vulnerability you’d tried so hard to keep hidden.

Spencer’s gaze never softened, “I know you’re worried, and I want to appreciate it, I do. But I need time to myself. I need to feel like I can still do something without help. I need space from you!” he raised his voice again.

You flinched as your heart sank, realizing how tightly you’d been holding on to the fear of losing him, how it had manifested in every act of love, every worried glance, every touch that you’d thought was comforting. You nodded, stepping back a little, trying to offer him the space he so clearly needed. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, eyes dropping to the floor. “I… I’ll give you that space.”

As you quietly closed the bathroom door behind you, Spencer felt a calmness settle over him, a rare feeling of unencumbered space. He hadn’t realized until that moment just how much the attention—though well-meaning and deeply appreciated—had begun to weigh on him, like an invisible net keeping him grounded. The soft click of the door seemed to signal a return to normalcy, to a routine he thought he’d lost somewhere in the haze of his injury.

But what he didn’t realize was how deeply his outburst had hurt you, how you’d clung so desperately to the idea of keeping him safe, only to feel dismissed, even resented, for the very care you’d thought he needed.

Spencer felt lighter as he brushed his hair, each stroke a small declaration of independence. He took his time shaving, enjoying the familiar ritual. He finished, splashing cold water on his face, feeling as if he’d reclaimed a part of himself, a small but significant piece of control.

Satisfied, he wrapped himself in a fresh towel and stepped into the bedroom, thinking of nothing but how good it felt to finally be able to tend to himself. But the moment he crossed the threshold, a chill settled over him. His eyes flicked to the small armchair in the corner, the one that had become a fixture for your bag during your stayover, always waiting quietly, a reminder of your presence and your watchful care. Except now, the chair sat empty. Your bag was gone.

His heart stilled, a sinking feeling creeping into his chest. Quickly, he threw on clothes, barely fastening the buttons of his shirt before moving through the apartment, calling out your name, his voice echoing through the silent rooms. “Y/N?”

He stepped into the living room, glancing around in hopes you were just out of sight, maybe near the kitchen or just down the hall. But there was no answer, no sound, just an aching quiet that pressed in on him like a vise.

“Y/N!” he called again, louder this time, almost pleading. But the silence that met him felt crushing. His mind whirled with dread, memories of the sharpness in his tone, the flash of hurt in your eyes just before you’d turned away. The realization of what he’d done, what he’d said, crashed over him with a painful clarity. In his desperate need for solitude, he hadn’t stopped to consider what his words might mean to you, hadn’t thought of how they might cut deep after all you’d done to care for him.

The hollow ache in his chest grew as he scanned the empty room, his mind replaying each moment you’d been there, every touch, every comforting smile. He could still feel the warmth of your hand in his, the gentle brush of your fingers through his hair. The thought that you might’ve left, might have taken that warmth and devotion with you, was more terrifying than anything he’d faced in the field.

His voice softened, almost a whisper, as he spoke into the empty room, “Please, don’t go.” But the quiet, unyielding silence lingered, leaving him alone with the weight of his words, and he realized that maybe, just maybe, he’d pushed away the one thing he truly needed.

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

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[weepingchronicles]

Hi! I saw your requests are open, so could you please do a Jinx x fem! Reader where the reader gets hurt badly after a fight (maybe after episode 6?) and almost dies? How would Jinx react? And make it angsty and fluffy please. Thank you! 🩵

a/n: aaa i didn't know if you wanted yandere or not but i did it anyways, i am very sorry if you didn't want yan!jinx. i didn't know if you meant season one or two but to be honest i couldn't remember anything anyways so this is just a made up fight! hope you dont mind <3

❝yandere!jinx x fem!reader getting injured❞

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Believe it or not, Jinx drops everything once she notices you are hurt, especially if it is critical. Of course, if she is distracted by the fighting and adrenaline of a fight, it might take her awhile to notice until you collapse or the fight is over. I imagine pre-shimmer Jinx would be more attentive and notices if you are hurt even a bit.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 But basically, she drops everything and would rush to your side nonetheless. She will kneel by your side, assessing your injuries. Oh god, that is a lot of blood. Since when did you have so many wounds?

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Thousands of thoughts swarm around her head. She is so scared of losing you, she can't lose another person she loves. She just can't. Voices of her adoptive brother's voice ring through her head and even Silco's. Saying things like how she just hurts everyone around her, this was bound to happen eventually. No wonder Vi didn't want her to come on the mission. She's a jinx.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Thankfully, the marching and yells of incoming enforcers awakens her from her delusions. She scoops you in her arms pretty easily and rushes home to save you.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 But as she is racing away with you in tow, she looks down seeing your colored eyes begin to gloss over and droop, your skin getting colder and colder. No.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Without much thought she rushes you to Singed. He helped Silco save her, why couldn't he now?

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Once you fully awaken you are not the same. The surgery was a success but your mind feels almost split into two. Your mind conjured the most horrible memories and distorted them into something worse. But Jinx was beside you through all of it.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You find your head laying in Jinx's lap, her painted nails twirling some strands of your hair between her fingers. She notices you, "Oh! You're awake!" She jumps and sit you upright. She is smiling but something in her face makes you believe she is worried, worried for you. Her motions are more jittery than usual.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She brings you a small makeup compact excitedly and open it up, showing your reflection through the small mirror. Your eyes were not the same color anymore. Instead they were a magenta color, something unnatural and not you. It almost reminds you of— "Now we match!" Jinx exclaims excitedly, as if you'd be happy.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "What did you do to me, Jinx?" You focus your gaze back onto her, feeling anger rising in your bones.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Jinx scrunches her face, "What did I do? I saved you!" she says, practically snarling at your accusatory tone. She stands, throwing the makeup compact harshly at you.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "You were going to bleed out in my arms so quit looking me like I'm some.. some monster!" Her voice breaks on the last note, showing her insecurity. You knew all about Jinx's past, about Vi.. Vander. You promised to never do the same thing to her.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You take a deep breath in. reassessing your situation. Yes, you were.. different but you were fine, right? Your wound were gone and in fact, you felt more alive than before. More hyper-aware, like you are a fresh eyed baby seeing the world new again.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "I'm.. I'm sorry, Jinx. I just feel so confused.. and different." You hunch over, cradling your own head in your arms.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Jinx's look pities, all tension disappearing at the sight of your struggle. She knew exactly what it felt like, how violating it felt.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She kneels down in front of you, looking up and gently removing your hands from your face. "I know, I know what you must feel. But I promise. . I wouldn't have done it if I didn't have no other choice. Please."

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You lean down, pressing your forehead to Jinx's in an act of understanding and. . affection. "I believe you, thank you for saving me. We will get through this together, okay?" Jinx nods hurriedly, her eyes all wide and thankful.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 The rest of that day was spent with lots of cuddles and talking, maybe this new you wasn't that bad as long as you have Jinx.

a/n: why was this kind of a soft yandere for jinx? oh well. . it was really cute!! i hope you enjoyed :3

[cirphu]

Timelines, Jewelry, and Sex? Oh My!

Despite all efforts to keep myself from constantly overanalyzing love scenes on this site, here I am once again. And this time I've brought three (3) of them!

It was honestly inevitable because in a series like this where sex quite literally drives the plot, these scenes are necessary to understanding the story and characters, and in turn must be discussed. That said, walk with me lovelies. We have a lot to cover. Theories and takeaways are in blue, and questions and discourse are welcome.

Great and Tyme's love scene was so beautiful and truly a joy to witness which is why it pains me to say that it was not real. At this point, we can all agree that there are multiple timelines in play. That's why I think their love scene and the moments that lead up to it were what Great wishes their relationship was like if he had made all the right choices and met Tyme under different circumstances.

I think their relationship started with a one-night stand possibly initiated by Tyme to get closer to Great and his family.

Now before I attempt to provide evidence to support my thesis, I need to point out one thing about the timelines—they are parallel. Great's first 4-minute out of body experience establishes that point.

Sure, going back in time allows him to make a different, often better choice, but the timeline in which he made his initial choice continues.

That is why we see him wake from the "nightmare" of seeing Manee lying dead on the ground after he hits her and drives off. That timeline is still in motion and part of him has experienced and is still experiencing it.

The notion of parallel timelines is further supported by the final scene in episode 4 where we see two timelines seemingly collide as Dome returns home in one and is dead in another.

I highly recommend reading this post by @becauseimanicequeen which has an extraordinary breakdown of possible timelines and the differences between them.

Taking what we've seen so far into account, my theory is that each 4-minute jump creates a new timeline or a new branch in an existing timeline that later merges back into it's parent timeline while all events and memories remain intact. Lukwa provides a bit of insight on this during her interview with Dr. Den:

What I plan to discuss in this post is based on the premise that there at least 4 timelines in play for Great-Tyme's part of the story:

Great hits Manee and drives off → has his first 4-minute jump (4MJ) → a new timeline is created; this one continues with memories intact → ?

Great hits Manee, stays, and calls for help → visits her at the hospital and delivers flowers to her room where they talk for a bit → bumps into Tyme and tries to leave, but ends up having a 4MJ → a new timeline is created; this one continues w/ memories intact → ?

Great leaves the flowers he brought for Manee at the nurse's station → first instance of seeing visions of he and Tyme having sex on 2 different occasions → bumps into Tyme, says sorry, and helps him pick up the papers → Title kills Dome and Great has a 4MJ → a new timeline is created; this one continues w/ memories intact → (this is where Tonkla and Win would come in, but they're not my focus atm) → ?

Great saves Dome and takes him to the hospital → Tyme sutures his wound; Great recalls visions of him riding Tyme → Tyme saves him from being choked out/killed by Title in the garage → Tyme brings Great his favorite iced tea and is rejected when he asks Great out → Great has a 4MJ, explains what's been going on to Tyme and asks him out → claw machine date at the mall and almost kiss in the car (interspersed with another round of visions of his other self and Tyme from T2 sleeping together; I'll explain later) → Tyme attacks Korn looking for answers about Nan's whereabouts → Great confronts Tyme at the hospital → has a second 4MJ and promises to help find Nan → Great finds Nan, but hesitates and fails to save her → has a third 4MJ, manages to save Nan, and escapes with Tyme's help → they quickly drop Nan off at the hospital and skip town → sleep together

Since Great has had three 4MJs in T4 (the current timeline), it is plausible that 3 additional timelines may have been created but I don't think that's the case because (1) four is a thematic number in the series and (2) T4 is the timeline that offers the most continuity in sequence of events.

It's also interesting to note that Great's 4MJs have become more frequent and life-threatening which could mean that he's on the right track and/or nearing the end.

That aside, the timeline I want to focus on is T2, which is where I think one of their sexual encounters takes place. Let's take a look at the timeline as if Great's 4MJ does not occur:

Great hits Manee, stays with her, and calls for help

Great visits Manee at the hospital and delivers flowers to her room where they talk for a bit

Great, unnerved by his conversation with Manee, bumps into Tyme and leaves

Great meets Tyme at a bar and they end up having a one-night stand

This scene was the sole catalyst for this post because Great seems to be wearing the same outfit he had on when he visited Manee at the hospital—jewelry and all.

Our rich boy may like wearing black and white, but he is not one for repeating outfits.

While chatting at the bar, they're conversation indicates that they remember bumping into each other at the hospital. However, unlike in T3 and T4, they don't seem to know each other beyond that. It's possible that Tyme may have some info on Great because he is investigating his family, but they're essentially strangers both to us and each other. This Dr. Tyme (T2) is not the rizz-less one we know and love from T4 because he manages to charm his way into spending the night with Great (this is speculation; Great very well could have done the charming and Tyme got lucky). How do we know this? Great's visions from the first time he bumped into Tyme at the hospital (T3) and the almost-kiss in the car (T4) show us what happens next.

Great-Tyme are seen holding hands as they enter Great's condo. I will admit that this is quite familiar behavior for people who've essentially just met, but holding hands with your one-night stand is entirely possible. That aside, if you look closely you'll notice that Tyme is wearing a silver paperclip bracelet and Great is wearing his favored watch.

These are the same pieces of jewelry that they're wearing when Tyme kisses Great's chest on the pool table ... which is insane choice of a flat surface to start a romp on when the bed is literally a few feet away, but I get it. Where else would one serve a full-course meal if not on a table?

Anyway~ Tyme is also wearing a necklace which will be of note in a sec, but what I find interesting is the stark difference in this Tyme's gaze and demeanor in comparison to the one in episode 4. He appears to be more confident and decisive.

A man on a mission and who knows exactly what he's doing. That said, if we ever get the entirety of this scene, I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't kiss Great on the lips because there seems to be an emotional distance between them that is not present in the love scene we saw in episode 4.

Now back to Tyme's necklace. He appears to be wearing it in another scene from the trailer where he's standing next to Great's window so it's safe to assume that it's the same day.

I can't decide whether his gaze is menacing or not, but he is holding a rag and something black and shiny that looks like a switchblade a phone so we'll just have to wait and see.

So far we've looked at 2 of the 3 Great-Tyme love scenes shown in the trailer. The third, which also takes place in Great's condo, is one that also gives me pause because once again, Tyme's gaze is different.

Something about the way he looks at Great does not read as the Tyme we've been seeing over the last 4 episodes.

But what's most notable to me in this love scene is that neither of them is wearing any jewelry. Great doesn't wear jewelry at home, so not having any jewelry on in this scene isn't out of the ordinary. Tyme on the other hand, is NEVER without his smartwatch. And as I'm writing this, I've realized that we've never seen any indication of what time it is when Tyme is alone. The only instance we've seen a clock in direct relation to Tyme is on his phone when he exchanged numbers with Great at the skatepark.

So, is any of what we've seen so far real?

Yes and no. The only thing that has been real and consistent throughout Great-Tyme's storyline is the certainty of death; impending or otherwise. And because of that, neither Great's nor Tyme's perspectives are reliable.

It may feel like we are getting the full picture, but there is always something missing in between.

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading. Now off to episode 5 to see how wrong I am XD

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

back to life. l Joel Miller

Summary: an attempt to return to normality

Warnings: angst, a little bit of smut (+18), lots of bad emotions, tw: depressive episode; Tommy, Maria and Ellie; violence

A/N: it's a hard time for me. but I found a moment to write this. sorry that I'm still stuck in this series, it's comfortable for me

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

The next few days were really hard. Joel felt like every cell in his body was hurting him, even though it was you who had been through so much. The wounds were healing, the bruises were fading, but you were quieter and less visible. If it weren't for his willingness for you to take a bath, which Joel thought was the best thing for you, you wouldn't have gotten out of bed at all.

But Joel experienced something else during that time. In addition to fear for you, he encountered incredible human kindness and empathy. The people of Jackson seemed moved by what had happened. Soon, when Joel was on his way to the clinic about his collarbone, an older man who owned a bakery pressed a fresh loaf of bread into his hands and said with a smile that it was for you. 

Mrs. Russo appeared at the door the next evening, bringing with her a few of your favorite dishes. "I guess you don't have the head for cooking now. Take this, she's been enjoying it so much lately!"

Rory and his mother also showed up, and the boy handed Joel a bouquet of the first spring flowers, which he placed next to your bed. The small smile on your lips was worth everything.

Almost every afternoon, Ellie would sit with you, telling you that she absolutely needed help with her homework. Joel thought she was exaggerating and that she certainly didn't have that much to study for, but you were starting to get involved. Evenings were for the two of you, though.

Sometimes Joel would play something on the guitar, feeling your eyes follow his fingers as they struck the strings. He hadn't done it in years, but for you he'd pulled from his memory many of the songs he knew. Or he'd read books aloud. His warm, low voice carried through the bedroom, and you'd listen, clearly soothed by the sound.

Your bubble had to stretch, though, and it happened one evening. Joel came back later than usual, and then he convinced you to go downstairs. He led you out to the terrace and showed you something he had made for you. A wooden bench, very carefully crafted, with ornate armrests and fancy decoration. He had been working on it for a long time.

"It's so beautiful outside. I thought you might like to have your own place." he said, a little worried when he saw the tears in your eyes and your trembling lips. "You can spend time here, bask in the sun, read if you want."

"Nobody has ever done anything just for me." you said quietly.

And before he knew it, you kissed him, so truly. He hadn't felt the real you in a kiss for a long time, and now you were with him. In his strong arms, you were like a fragile creature, but Joel felt happy that you had achieved so much together. He believed that everything would be fine.

From then on, everything slowly began to change. You spent more time outside, and sometimes you went with him to the stables to take care of the horses. After a few days, Tommy and Maria invited you for dinner, and you showed up there too. When the dance was in Jackson, you went together, although you seemed hesitant about it, but Joel managed to talk you into a few slow dances with him.

"I want to take her out of Jackson," Joel stated when he and Tommy met up at the Tipsy Bison for a drink one day, "Just one day. We'll take the easy way out."

Tommy nodded, "It would do her good. Can she handle it?"

"She's tougher than we think. I can see she needs to get outside of those walls, even though she's still scared."

"And you're going to let her?" Tommy shook his head in disbelief, "What did she do to you, bro?"

"I miss her, you know... She's physically there, we sleep in the same bed, we eat together, we live together. But she..."

"I can see it in her eyes. What happened to her changed her... It would change anyone."

Joel took a sip from his glass. He didn't want to tell his brother that you hadn't slept together since then. No, Joel wasn't complaining. Your relationship had never been just about sex. But he still didn't know if he would scare you if he initiated it. You were sensitive and delicate, and although he knew you loved him, you didn't take that step yourself.

That day the weather was beautiful. The spring sun settled in the sky, and the forest and the surrounding area were beautifully green. You walked together, close to each other. 

Joel told you what had changed in the area recently, that the attic in the permanent barn on the other side of Jackson had caved in, or that he had seen a family of foxes sneaking past the camp during a patrol. He spoke as if you had been sick for a week, not completely cut off from life for almost a month.

You felt good, especially since he was next to you, and the care and tenderness towards you emanated from him. You wanted to go back to him, completely, but you weren't sure how to do it. Every day, every attempt, cost you a lot of strength. Guilts of conscience were churning inside you.

"I'm sorry, Joel." You finally said when you stopped at the edge of the forest.

Joel looked at the horizon, trying to see if the area was still safe for you, and turned around, surprised.

"What are you apologizing for, darling?" he asked, taking a step towards you.

You seemed so small to him, as if many things were pressing you to the ground at once, and you were barely able to stay on two legs. You looked at him as if you were about to cry.

"For everything." you finally answered "For having to take care of me. For every day that is so hard for you. I wish things were like they used to be... I don't know if I can. Maybe... Maybe..."

"Don't do that." he interrupted you, approaching you and taking your face in his hands "Stop here. What happened to us, what happened to you, is neither of our fault. But we'll deal with it, right?"

"How? I thought I was strong, but this..." you closed your eyes, and tears flowed from under your eyelashes. Joel patiently wiped them away with his thumbs "I keep wondering... Every shadow, every rustle makes me tremble. I've become nothing but a problem for each of you."

His strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you tightly to his chest. You snuggled into Joel with all your might. His arms were your shelter, the beating of his heart soothed yours. If it weren't for him, you would have fallen to pieces a long time ago.

"You don't even know, silly, how many people care about you and want to help you. They ask about you every day. You're not the problem, but you can't be strong all the time either. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about, because I tried to be. You and Ellie hold me together. Now it's our turn, we won't let you fall apart." He kissed the top of your head and sighed deeply "You don't even know how much I love you..."

It was late when you got back. Your clothes smelled of forest and wind, just like Joel's. You felt tired, but you were also a little lighter, more confident. He saw it in your eyes and promised himself that soon you would go out together again outside Jackson. 

However, Joel was most surprised when he felt your arms wrapped around his waist as he stood in the shower and the streams of hot water washed his body. You clung to his back, so gently as if you were afraid he would push you away. But Joel kissed your hands, and then turned around and looked at you with such love that you had never seen in his eyes. 

So you surrendered to this moment, because you wanted to, because it was him, because you wanted to feel alive again. 

And when you felt his cock moving deep inside you, when his lips caressed your neck, and the cool tiles imprinted on your back - only God knew how much life flowed in you again.

"Sorry, I wouldn't keep you from your work if it wasn't so important."

"Don't worry, the laundry will definitely wait for me." you chuckled as you and Maria headed towards the building that served as the city hall or headquarters in Jackson.

It was already late in the evening, Joel hadn't come home yet, and you were busy with the usual household chores. The following days were somehow easier and you were happy to have your strength back.

You went inside and Maria led you to the back. You noticed a few men in the rooms, who were also taking part in patrols. They seemed strangely tense to you, but Maria quickly drew your attention to herself.

"Listen, this could be an unpleasant experience for you." she said, her hand stroking your arm. "But we have to be sure."

"What do you mean?" you asked, frowning. "Did something happen? Something with Joel or Tommy?"

Maria shook her head, then pushed the door open and nodded for you to enter. It was a dark room and you noticed that the curtains were drawn tightly and the only light came from the lamps placed on the walls. In the middle, three men sat on chairs, they were not residents of Jackson. They seemed strangely familiar to you, but you couldn't...

Someone said your name and you noticed Joel and Tommy standing nearby.

"What's going on?" you asked quietly. "Who is it?"

Tommy cleared his throat. "We've been following them for a few days. We suspect that they attacked you. You, Sam and Anthony. One of them had Sam's private things."

You looked at the men again, now you understood. And they must have recognized you too, because they twitched nervously. Two of them looked away, trying to avoid your eyes, but one of them was staring at you wildly.

"I know that pussy." he muttered, a smile twisting his face covered with thick stubble "I thought you died in the woods. You're a smart bitch."

There was a loud impact, it was Joel who hit the man without thinking. His head tilted back, but after a moment his quiet laughter filled the room.

"Is that your pussy? How was I supposed to know that it already had its owner?"

"Don't you dare talk about it like that!" Joel growled and wanted to hit him again, but Tommy grabbed his arm.

He looked at you carefully. "Is that them?"

"He recognized her!" Joel hissed furiously "That should be enough!"

"I need to know!"

You weren't fully aware of it, as if your body had made the decision itself. Your head twitched in confirmation. That was enough.

"Get her out of here." Tommy ordered.

"Joel! No!" you groaned, but someone's arms grabbed you and forcibly led you out of the room. The door slammed shut with a bang. Even though you didn't see it, you knew what was about to happen.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again

[thesiltverses]

Hello! Writing first to thank you for such an extraordinary creation - as a piece of writing and even more so in performance. Every episode manages to somehow build on and outdo the last; you navigated that transition from a smaller scale story of grisly mysteries and personal crises of faith to a grand scale of war, revolution and political satire with absolute aplomb, and never lost that throughline of exceptional characterisation and sharp writing, always steering to the most interesting conflicts. You are always very humble in your public comments, but I hope you allow yourself a little pride, because this is absolutely top notch stuff.

I was struck by Paige's final words, that she hopes what they left would be found 'flawed, inadequate, yearning'. As the show went on, I was surprised - in a good way - that the show's politics gradually crystalised into a full-on nihilist anarchism, something perhaps even along the lines of Monsieur Dupont. (Muna used the 'a' word in one of the Q&As but it was pretty evident even before that). Taking these gods as a metaphor for ideologies and social systems, the scope of it becomes pretty universal - and unsparing. And, equally, hard to answer.

I wondered when the Many Below/Wound Tree was introduced what answers they would find: what political movement could truly resist cooption or becoming its own horrible self-sustaining egregore. And in the end the answer you express I suppose is a negative one: that even Paige's god of victims is a tool, one that must eventually be discarded to go into some unknown place beyond it all (to walk away from Omelas), towards something that narrative fiction - as a form of the 'endless words' that are derided so much in the third season - can no longer address. Which I respect - to pose the question is vital, even if the tools can't reach any answers if they even exist.

I think this struggle exists in many stories that address themes of making a break from the rapacious society that created them (and take it seriously) - your Baru Cormorants and Mononoke-himes. We can describe the problem vividly, but since we do not have a counterexample to hand, any story we tell about ~what is to be done~ and what it will look like when it is feels like it will be just as hollow as the spins and angles and parasitic fantasies that so many characters advance in the Silt Verses. (How could there possibly be a time where it finally works out, after we have seen all this? But then, what are we living for?)

To try to make this a question and not a ramble, I wanted to ask - what do you see as the role of fiction in addressing the horrible machinery of this world? Is it enough to pose the question particularly sharply, skewer the bad and inadequate answers, and leave the readers/listeners to figure out how to make the killing of gods concrete? How do we punch through the bounds of it all being Content, another product to be bought and sold? What does it mean to sit here and fantasise about people making that revolutionary break when there is no revolution to be had?

I don't know what answer I'm hoping for here, but given the themes of the show, I feel like this must be a kind of thing you've thought about, and probably have a far more developed line of thought than I do. And if this is a bit too much to drop in your inbox on a Saturday morning, I will say again thank you for writing this story and all the actors for making it so strikingly concrete - it truly means a lot, and I will treasure it.

Hi, and thank you for listening and for a beautifully written and thoughtful ask! ('Horrible machinery of the world' stopped me dead in my tracks.) And I am very proud, genuinely.

I don't have a good enough answer to your questions, and for me a lot of TSV is very much about trying to figure those answers out, but let me try and sum up my perspective bit by bit.

Is it enough for fiction to pose the question, without also proposing the answer?

I don't think it's enough for fiction as a collective body of work.

I'd argue there's probably a tendency towards open-endedness and irresolution in these individual narratives simply because it feels like a more honest acknowledgement that in real life, the foe has yet to take a real body blow and will not go down easy; that the foe, in fact, is the marketplace for the work itself and ironically profits from the popularity of stories with easy heroic victories over villains who represent capitalism. That these stories inevitably become a pleasant consumable that serves our complacency within the belly of the beast, a kind of daily tonic to reassure us that good always triumphs and regular people always come out on top.

I also think that the sheer scale and scope of the topic creates its own challenges; you probably can't engage thoroughly enough with both the dystopian question and your ideas for a utopian answer all in a single story, without ultimately turning the latter into that false reassurance, a quick handwave of a happy ending.

You mention Omelas, and I think we could illustrate the problem by looking at how LeGuin handles her two successive masterpieces:

The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas, which gives us the titular resource-rich u(dys)topia built on invisible suffering, and the dissidents who turn their backs on that world and walk out into the inhospitable wilderness in search of something better.

The Dispossessed, which as its premise gives us Anarres, an imperfect but sympathetic anarchist society whose adherents turned their backs on a neighbouring world of capitalist plenty to live out in the inhospitable wilderness in search of something better.

Anarres can very reasonably be viewed as LeGuin's direct answer to the question posed by Omelas, and she would have likely had it in her mind already as she wrote Omelas. But if the short story had ended with 'I hear that against all odds, the ones who walk away have successfully founded an anarchist utopia where hardship is everywhere but it's shared as equitably as possible. THE END', the amount of lazy shorthand and empty comfort involved in that happier ending would inevitably make it a dishonest and unserious offering.

Instead, Anarres is a starting premise to be interrogated at length over the course of a separate story, rather than a happy ending to simply reassure the reader that better things are possible - and even at the end of the novel LeGuin's unresolved questions are still very similar to the ones that we're left with in Omelas (and the same questions that I feel like we were knocking about in The Silt Verses, and which I guess you could argue are all lingering concerns at the end of Mononoke, as well): how and where can we find space to create and sustain a genuine alternative when the narrative environment of capitalism is so powerfully all-subsuming and constantly growing to fill the space? Do we need to disconnect entirely, vanishing as if dead? If we disconnect, how can we possibly survive and what inhumanities or ethical compromises will be required of us? If we do survive, is our isolationism a dereliction of human responsibility to those left behind?

All of which is to say that I think present-day fiction absolutely can make the attempt to meaningfully explore potential alternative-utopian solutions in more depth and with far more tangibility than we attempted with TSV - but that dystopian fiction like ours which concludes with the unexplored promise of a revolutionary utopia and the vague reassurance that the irrepressible human spirit will figure things out from here on out (Chewbacca gets a medal, everyone's in the streets wearing a Guy Fawkes mask) doesn't do much more than dramatically undermine its own goal of disrupting the audience's comfort.

That said, one of my big regrets this season was that we didn't succeed in more engagingly exploring and articulating the Woundtree camp's development into a flawed but functioning society in Dispossessed fashion ahead of the ending. That was my intention, but what quickly became clear was that in a dramatic format, with a limited cast, it was just endless static meeting-room scenes with Paige and Elgin discussing difficult responses to impossible challenges, while everyone else was out having dynamic and exciting adventures with lots of fun and exciting gods. Dystopias remain too entertaining for utopias' own good.

What do you see as the role of fiction in addressing the horrible machinery of this world?

I believe that absurdist horror fiction specifically, founded on the principle of 'people in a world that makes no sense, deluding themselves that it definitely does make sense' can play a very powerful role in that stated purpose.

Many horror traditions carry the baggage of inbuilt or inadvertent conservatism - the concept of a peaceable, passive, safe, middle-class Normality which is then disrupted by a terrifying outside threat (alien, ultra-foreign, ultra-low-class, underworldly, wild, etc). But absurdist horror very directly identifies Normality as the true source of our terror and very directly confronts our human response to it. It creates the right environment for us to ask all of the good questions. Isn't this an unsustainable nightmare we're living in? Why are we expending so much energy pretending it isn't? How do we get out and what do we do if we can't?

Probably the only listener reaction that's genuinely frustrated me about both of our shows is the folks who come away turning their noses up at the bluntness of that approach and acting like they've Solved The Art simply for figuring out where our broad sympathies lie. "Hm, just listened to The Silt Verses and I understood it at once; it's clearly trying to say that capitalism is bad. A little heavy-handed in its messaging for my liking, hm-hm!"

Not to go full Garth Marenghi, but for me the directness of the provocation and the obvious outrageousness of the nightmare is the point; it then allows us to go to places that other genres (or more understated critiques) generally can't.

How do we punch through the bounds of it all being Content, another product to be bought and sold? What does it mean to sit here and fantasise about people making that revolutionary break when there is no revolution to be had?

God, I don't know.

Maybe it means nothing; maybe we can't punch through; maybe there is no story unruly enough to be truly unco-optable, and therefore even the most radical fiction ultimately serves as a distraction, a placebo, a reassurance (that we are not alone, that better things are possible) which will impact the wider world more by keeping us subscribed to the Kindle app than by any action we might feel inspired to take.

Amazon is paying Boots Riley to make TV shows. Disney won much praise for delivering a revolutionary fantasy in a Star Wars shell. Apple is funding excellent, discomfiting and furious corporate satires about how we happily ignore invisible worker abuses for the sake of our own lifestyles, but they also cannot be considered accountable for the deaths of Congolese child-labourers in the global cobalt supply chain. The Dispossessed is in development as a limited series and the LeGuin estate are closely involved.

The master doesn't just own the tools, he's been buying up the guillotines as well.

What if, as with the unknowable nothingness outside of Omelas, the only art that cannot be reduced to product in net service of the status quo is the art that's so invisible and inaccessible and disconnected as to not exist at all? Does being relatively small and ramshackle really lend us any ideological purity, any genuine detachment? You can listen to The Silt Verses on Apple and Spotify and Amazon Music. Brought to you by Acast.

Chapter 36 with Dev and Seb was to a large extent intended as an articulation of that worry. To what extent can we still trust in the integrity of a sincere love story (one that we want to believe in) it if takes place in an insincere and predatory environment? Can any meaningful story be told honestly within such a space?

This stuff really worries me. I think it's probably right to worry. I don't know the answer. I do know that there are some folks for whom the show has made a tangible difference in terms of their life's direction, and that's a huge comfort to me.

There was someone who said it helped them find their faith, strangely and wonderfully. Someone else who said it contributed to their decision not to go down a more lucrative career path within what they view as an exploitative industry. (I hope they don't regret that decision; I hope it makes them happy.)

So there's something there. Maybe.

[kindofatheatrekid]

Soft Yandere! Veteran HCs (and a special something at the end!)

So I basically fell in love with this nameless man I wrote on a whim- And now I’m giving the dude a name now- My precious moot helped me to cement his identity as a jaded, Russian veteran and I obviously leaped at the chance of making an old dilf. I fucking love this man- 😀

This is definitely NSFW so…

MINORS DNI. MINORS DNI. MINORS DNI.

That’s better! ❤️

Soft Yandere! Veteran who’s at least twenty-five years your senior— and makes sure that you remember that. He’ll make sure that any bratty attitude coming from you will be promptly shut down. Whether it’ll be through a spanking session or giving your mouth something better to do… Well. It depends on how much you’ve pissed him off already. ^^

(Don’t worry, though. He’s too much of a softie to not ensure that you’ll enjoy every second of your “punishment~” 😮‍💨)

“In my days, cadets used to have their teeth smashed in if they mouthed off to their superiors. Shouldn’t you thank me for my leniency, love?”

Soft Yandere! Veteran who makes sure that you’re always well fed. He may have some food insecurity problems, and would never want his beloved to ever experience that gnawing hunger he felt in his earlier years. So say au revoir to any diets you want to do!

He’s a good cook too, so you bet he’s going to feed you every time you see each other. You’re always going to be greeted with food as aftercare— there’s no arguing on that. He will force-feed you. 😓

“A diet? Tch. You don’t need that. Just eat, dear. You need the nutrients for later.”

Speaking of aftercare! Soft Yandere! Veteran who knows exactly what to do after years of fucking women. …And maybe some men but we don’t talk about his soldier years- The man will wipe you down and massage every part of your body that aches after his rough treatment. Believe in the old man who has chronic pain every day because of what he did in his youth- He definitely knows how to relieve any muscle aches. 😌

Soft Yandere! Veteran who is a huge cuddler. He’s taller than you and is just a brickhouse— you’re not going anywhere if he wants to cuddle with you. He probably has a size kink, loves seeing you try to fit him in your mouth. He’ll be so condescending about it too, goading you on while he’s reading the newspaper like the senile man he is. 😩

“Come on, love~ Is that really the best you can do? You can take a bit more, right? For me~?”

Soft Yandere! Veteran who is Russian! The man never speaks crass words, though— always a gentleman through and through. His mama taught him right! He has to make sure that you remember your manners with him too! Say please and then he might give you what you want. It depends, though. Have you been a polite lover to him today? 🤔

“Mmm… I don’t know, Солнце… You’ve been so naughty today. I think you should beg some more for my cock~”

Soft Yandere! Veteran who has episodes of depression whenever he remembers the young men he killed in the battlefield. You can find him on the floor while staring at his countless medals— bottles of everclear on the floor with a few cigar buds in the ashtray nearby. A hug from you will help him a lot…

(Please replace the bitter cigar in his mouth with your sweet lips. Give him something else to think about. Better yet, why don’t you spread those thighs of yours? That will always get the old man going! 😊)

“...Thank you, лапочка. I needed this.”

Soft Yandere! Veteran who will never let you go. You’re just too pure for the world… He’s directly seen how dirty humans can be. You’re like a spring breeze to him, allowing him to relax his mind for the first time since he was drafted. Just listen to everything he says. Don’t you believe in him? 🥺

“...People… They can be cruel. Especially to wounded rabbits like you.”

You didn’t think that I’d just make headcanons after painting a scene in your head, right? Dear gods no! I want to be a nice author to you all! (At least until my mind decides to switch up and make angst- But you’re all safe! For now.) 😈

Anyways! I’m going to show y’all a blowjob scene with this old man now! Have fun! ^^

(It’s gender neutral this time because you’re sucking his dick-)

You thought he was being too cruel right now. Here you were: on your knees, serving the man while he was enjoying his morning cup of coffee. If you could talk, you would’ve whined at him for his attention; to get that dumb paper out of the way so he could fuck your mouth like you knew he could. He was undoubtedly affected by the way your lips were wrapped around not even half of his cock, though. There was a reason why his hand had a firm grip on your hair— not allowing you to pull away nor go deeper.

The old man had way too much patience compared to you, not even budging when you start to paw at his clothed thighs. He’s spent years on the battlefield, dear. The man can neglect his own needs as long as you learn your lesson. Your parents must have not taught you very well, but that’s fine! He can show you exactly how to stay in the lines.

Your desperate whimpers send shivers down his spine, the vibrations making his warm cock grow hotter— a familiar warmth pooling underneath his stomach. His hand tightens around your locks, a deep sigh escaping from his lips before he even knew it. You got what you wanted, his attention. And oh… You have his full attention.

A low growl was your only warning before he forced his cock down your throat— his hands now occupied with pulling your hair like it were a horse’s reins. You couldn’t breathe; he was big, and he knew that. You could barely see his sly grin through your tears, but you could feel it. By the way his hand was kept on the back of your head to keep your spit-covered lips on his cock. By the way his other hand was patting the top of your head so affectionately. By the way he cooed at you like he wasn’t choking you on his dick right now.

“Aww~ Is there something you want to say, Солнце? Come on~ Use your words for me, hm?”

The bastard was taking pleasure in your helplessness; he knew that your throat was far too occupied to do anything but let out a few muffled whimpers. Whimpers that went straight down to his weeping cock, his balls tightening even more when he sees how prettily you were silently begging for his mercy. The old man was just getting his rocks off at this point.

He kept on using you, bobbing your head over and over again— he was an old soldier, he knew precisely how long he could keep you gagging before you’d pass out. It was like a game to him in a way, seeing how far he could physically push you before you were on the brink of passing out. You were seeing both stars in your eyes and black spots; your adrenaline peaking from this deadly game. One where all you could do was trust the man in front of you that he knew what he was doing.

His endurance was no joke even after over a decade, you didn’t know how long it was before you could finally taste something bitter on your tongue— his head tilting up as he groaned. You were still gagging, your head pushed as far as possible when he came in your throat. The thick, slimy liquid going down your throat effortlessly as he slowly slides you off his limp dick. A round of coughs greeting you after your lungs were suddenly filled with oxygen after a while with barely any.

All he did was pat your head, grabbing a cloth from the table to clean up the mixture of his cum and your drool and tears off your face. His palms tenderly cupping your cheeks afterward— steadily lifting your face up before he presses a soft kiss on your now clean lips. A satisfied smile curving up his lips when he sees your blissed out, lost expression; your usual bratty self not seen at all.

“Hm… Better.”

Translation:

Солнце = sunshine

лапочка = sweetie pie / cutie

BRO. THIS. THIS DOES THINGS TO ME. Y'ALL LIKE THIS OLD MAN TOO, HUH??

"I know what you are."

[three-realms-archive]

(This me rambling, feel free to ignore and lesson 16 spoilers! ^^; hi hello btw!)

I wanna see MC sometimes staying at Purgatory Hall and the Demon Lord's Castle more often as an escape to truly relax and maybe see the brothers try to overcome some of their struggles in their own, even if it's just a bit, if not for them, then for MC who has done so much, maybe even too much, for them, y'know?

Lesson 16 was quite the turning point, but not a lot of things changed. I wanna see before and afters with everyone. I wanna see angst where everyone is trying to be normal (maybe because MC is trying to be normal), but when the slightest thing goes wrong, they all flinch to shield MC or something. The smallest smell of vlood after chopping up food for dinner? Flashback to lesson 16. MC being too cold? Mammon flashes back. Belphie standing over MC (holding blankets or just so happen to be there for some reason)? Levi is holding his breath.

But at the same time, i want to see MC flinch from Lucifer. Before Belphie, Lucifer was going to hurt MC or worse, and he did it the most and has succeeded in hurting MC the most out of the brothers. I want to see MC hold their breath anytime he gets angry but is completely calm with Satan. I wanna see MC's shoulders tense while helping with paperwork alone with him but be completely fine with doing the same with Diavolo. I wanna see Mammon acting as like a bridge between the two.

Everyone is so creative on how they write lesson 16 but i don't see a lot of "after the lesson" ones. I always wondered, if their MC went through that (assuming if they made ir canon in their MC's story), what changed, if at all?

Phantom Pain

First oneshot of Scars, Wounds and Minor Inconveniences: a oneshot series featuring slice-of-life snapshots of the aftermath of Lesson 16. Naturally, features spoilers for OG Obey Me! up until that point. Each oneshot will have an associated headcannons post, which will be linked when it goes up!

(thank you to @kittylilyheart for inspiring what will now be a oneshot series dedicated to everyday life in the aftermath of lesson 16, because there's just so many characters in this series with so many things you can write for each. they gave so many interesting examples in their submitted idea; so I'll be including some and incorporating my own. If you have an idea for something related to Obey Me! or Obey Me! Nightbringer that you'd like me to put to writing, please read the rules pinned to this blog before submitting to the blog's inbox!)

_

It’s like pins and needles, starting at your neck and running down your back. Mammon sees you arch your back oddly as you go to knock on the door to the Demon Lord’s castle; and immediately knows.

“Hey, hey.” He says as he bumps his shoulder into yours, fingers touching your sleeve. Even though he’s seen this a bunch of times, he never really knows what to do. “Ya, uh. Ya got the needles-thing again?”

“Yeah. Ugh, why now?” You groan through gritted teeth, waiting for the feeling to subside. Both you and Mammon were used to this, episodes happening every now and then. Temporary bouts of phantom pain down your back and sides, where arms had hugged you and…

Dwelling wouldn’t help. And besides; they barely inconvenienced you. You sat down and pressed your back against a nearby wall.

“Don’t do that. What are ya doin’?”

“It feels better when I put my back against something hard and flat.” You state matter-of-factly, never breaking eye contact as you slowly slide down. He looks more confused. You grin. "As long as Beel hasn't got his fifth dinner on it, the kitchen table is nice, too."

“Weird humans…” Mammon mutters disapprovingly, but he sits beside you to wait it out. His head flops to one side, cheek resting on your head, as he makes the ever-so-cliché show of pretending to stretch his arm above his head, over yours… and, eventually, around your shoulders. You snort as his fingers fidget, figuring he just doesn’t know where to place them. They first settle on your chest, lingering over where your heart beats. Then, they scurry up to your collarbone and settle on your pulse point. He presses around a little, as if searching. Then, with a satisfied hum, he leans back against the wall, too.

“I think it’s going away, now. Mams. Hey, Mams.” You shake his arm a few minutes later. He blushes at your willing contact (as if he hadn’t been holding you close this whole time) and the cutesy nickname, but shuffles back to give you space to stand. Though not before checking your back first, touching the back of his hand to the skin between your shoulder blades, which your outfit exposes. Because you’d been leaning on a metal wall, your skin is cold.

He freezes. Your skin, cold. Your lips, not breathing. The slight red from where his hand had pressed against you has a slightly red flush. Red - red, just like it had been when -

He makes a show of dusting off your shoulders, one hand curling its fingers just enough to press a little more around your neck pulse point.

He hums again, satisfied. Then, the sheer amount of touching you that he’s done today hits him - and he turns his head to the side with a not-so-subtle cough.

“Y-Yeah, okay. Good. Let’s knock, then.” Mammon straightens and flashes you one of his signature grins. You notice it wobbles a little, but you attribute that to the adorably-dramatic cough he was forcing out of his throat just moments earlier. “If we get back late, Lucifer’ll think we’re slackin.”

“We can’t stay longer? Lord Diavolo said in his letter that I can work at the castle for as long as I like.” You pout. Secretly, your heartbeat gets a little faster; you swore you read the letter correctly. You look at Mammon hopefully, avoiding looking at the path behind you; which was starting to look awfully short. “I thought we were getting back after Lucifer goes out tonight.”

Mammon raises an eyebrow. “Ya wanna stay that long? It’s dangerous out. It’s safer with Lucifer around. ” He protests worriedly - but catches himself quickly. “W-Well. Not that I can’t protect ya… But everyone’s at home, too! The more people around, the better the protectin'!”

“Mammon -”

“Mammon is probably right, MC." Suddenly, you hear a voice behind you. "Though, I admit - I hadn't thought about that when I wrote the letter requesting your visit.”

The two of you jump. You and Mammon immediately find each others’ hands, and whip around to face the source of the voice. Mammon is already stepping forward, stretching his arm in front of you protectively... when he sees who it is.

“Lord… Geez, Lord Diavolo. Barbatos.” He nervously chuckles, stepping back. “We were literally just about to knock. Warn a guy next time, why don’t’cha?”

“No worries, Mammon. Sorry for startling you.” Diavolo offers apologetically. He nods in acknowledgement to you. “Hello there, MC. Lucifer may worry too much if he doesn’t see you before leaving the House, so it may be best for him to see you’re safe and sound, first.”

You look up slowly at the Crown Prince of the Devildom. The prince’s demon butler stands just behind his liege, almost blending into the shadows. They look so… tall. So towering. You don’t register the words that come out of your mouth.

“Oh, u-uh. Okay, then. I’ll help with some RAD event planning, then leave. early”

Mammon gives you a look, shuffling closer and bumping his shoulder into yours, again. “Oi, human, are you sure? I thought earlier you said -”

“I’ll do what Lord Diavolo, said. It’s probably for a reason.” You reply nonchalantly as Barbatos steps forward and unlocks the front door. You can see the hallway as it creaks open and it’s dark. It reminds you of a room you had woken up in when you were pulled from your home with no warning. It reminds you of winding stairs that had lead up to an attic, with a shadowy figure waiting behind a locked door. It was the home of two people who, try as you might, you could never, ever say no to.

Was it fear? You didn’t think so, you could talk to them pretty easily. Agree with them, easily.

Was it hatred? Not that either. You knew Mammon appreciates them for their part in saving you, so you guess you do, too.

You think of the phantom pain from earlier, then think that the darkness of the castle hallway looks a lot more inviting than dwelling on painful memories and difficult questions. So you let your feet follow Diavolo and Barbatos into the castle, laughing when Diavolo fondly tussles Mammon’s hair and enthusiastically piping up with ideas when Barbatos lists off the upcoming events to be held by the student council at RAD.

Mammon does hang back a little at first, though; wondering why you disapproved of his idea when he said it - but then agreed so readily when Diavolo did. But Diavolo did help you with the whole Belphie situation. And he was grateful Diavolo had you brought to the Devildom at all. So he follows you and thinks nothing of it.

And you follow Barbatos and Diavolo. Listening to their every word, like it was instinct. Like you didn’t really have a choice. Just like you didn't have when they had saved you.

Just like you had no choice when they had first brought you here.

(first chapter of the blog's very first series! this was pretty interesting and challenging to write as i really didn't want anything sad or angsty; just the same tone as my other slice-of-life stuff but with little pangs of hurt from the habits that the characters pick up after the belphie incident. i'd like to think that mc and the obm cast actually do recover pretty quickly from lesson 16, but not for the reason of forgiving each other easily, which i'll get to in later chapters. in this case, mc gets along well with dia and barb out of trust for them saving them, but also because they've always taken the reigns on their fate anyway.)

[thigholstercas]

So I wanted to have all these parts of scripts that I love with destiel moments that were erased, changed, or added context in one place. Bare in mind that there are some that are Production Drafts and others Writer's Drafts, and so on.

4x02 - Are you there, God? It's me, Dean Winchester

Oh honey, he's gonna be your husband

Honestly, I'm just putting this here because I love this scene.

5x04 - The End

Cas received the order to follow Dean's commands once, and he sticked to it up 'til the end of everything.

7x17 - Born again identity

Just remember, this was after everything that happened in season 6 and widow!dean arc 1.0

Forward to Cas' speech in 15x18, yes the parallels.

Swear this is a whole Dean thesis. If we go back to what started this whole thing in tmwwbk. Dean tells Cas, we can fix this. And he never stopped wanting to fix it.

8x17 - Goodby Stranger

Like, I know they established that it didn't make sense for Dean to say I love you here, which fair, and we ended up which I need you (somehow worse).

But if we look at this as a whole, what Dean might understand is that saying I love you makes people leave him. Fastforward to the part when Dean takes the sigils so Cas can find him and Naomi visits and tells him that Cas doesn't return his feelings. Fastforward again to the You didn't trust me because even if we get to know that it was hard for Cas to leave with the tablet, away from Dean, Dean doesn't. For Dean, he left him, without even acknowledging that he loves/needs him, ignored him, and didn't trust him. Imagine you say I love you and you are left feeling abandoned, betrayed, and angry.

8x19 - Taxi Driver

This in the middle of I love you, and You didn't trust me is something

8x22 - Clip show

The one guy that's always had your back.

9x22 - Stairway to Heaven

Don't know what they smoked to write this, but I want some

10x23 - Brother's Keeper

You'll see the word shattered used a lot. This very much both destiel and drowley imo.

Season 12 is weirdly filled with these, so here are special mentions (because the max of pictures is 30 and there are too many moments). Most likely, it has to do with the market research by the end of 2016, which is why from 12-15, these scenes are more emotionally charged.

Mary saying Good friend when Dean and Cas hug in 12x01

Cas told Mary I promised (Dean) when they were talking outside the barn before going in to help Dean save Sam in 12x02

Dean telling Mary Get him outta here! when Cas was wounded in 12x12. And of course, when Cas says the things they have shared changed him (but that's on screen)

Cas texts? from 12x16

Dean is a worried husband on 12x18.

Dean explaining that no matter how much Cas messed up, did the wrong thing, or every dumb move he got it in 12x20. Cas was always Cas.

12x10 - Lily Sunder has some regrets

Dean telling Cas he has changed, and it has all been for the good. Again, forward to 15x18.

12x19 - The Future

This whole episode is charged with scenes from Dean and Cas. Like you have the angry Welcome home from Dean when Cas returns from Heaven. Dean calls Cas a super strong dude in a trenchcoat. The mixtape scene with the That was a gift. To keep. And Dean softening a bit even if he's angry because he's more worried.

But I think the biggest one is this one. The destiel sex scene (jk)

And after this, even though it is said in the show. There is more insistence from Dean to not let go of Cas -> We're not gonna let you just walk away. Not again. Not happening.

12x23 - All Along the Watchtower

The word shattered is mentioned a lot in the scripts. This is every part that describes Dean's reactions after losing Cas. Forward to 15x18.

13x06 - Tombstone

This is one of the best things that never happened in the show. You have Dean choking down his emotions saying he's much better now and Cas who fought with the empty with everything he had in 13x04 to return to Dean, coming to a meadow near a windmill because Dean thought he'd like it.

13x14 - Good Intentions

Forget about the in love part. They are best friends, and we didn´t get this.

13x20 - Unfinished Business

He lost Cas and it damn near broke him. Not we lost Cas, I.

14x12 - Prophet and Loss

Losing Dean was unacceptable. Cas said that losing Dean was unacceptable. And Dean got emotional. And then forward to 15x18, Cas just goes no, Dean can't die because that'd be unacceptable to me, so i'll sacrifice. And then, Dean gets emotional. Again. But for Dean, the unacceptable happened.

15x09 - The Trap

Forward to 15x20. In this future that Chuck showed Sam that he lost Dean the second Cas was gone.

Have I said how much they used the word shattered. Anyway, Dean wanted Cas to stay. That's his best friend.

He's amazing.

15x18 - Despair

This is not that different from what it was filmed, it is just that seeing it described makes it different. Especially when you get things as Still beautiful, still Dean Winchester, Dean is emotional, stunned, shocked. And have I said how much they used the word shattered. Also, you can see how it starts as a confession because Cas is confessing that he made a deal, but then it ends as a declaration, a declaration of love. Which makes testament such a good word for it.

15x19 - Inherit the Earth

The fact that Dean couldn't say Cas was gone

He's not the ultimate killer. He's not daddy's blunt instrument. He's someone who raised his little brother for love, who fought for the world for love and the most caring man on Earth

15x20 - Carry On

We don't talk about this episode because the script has way too many [omitted] but this is exactly what happened in 15x09 when Chuck showed their future to Sam if they followed the road they were taking.

Okay, that was it. Probably missed some, but for me, these are the parts that stand out.

[yuamusuzuran]

Damn.... so, Sinsmas and final episode of Helluva S2 is out AND I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS!

But most importantly, I wanna talk about Via!

Even though this episode was packed with a bit of everything and I loved every second of it, I couldn't help but focus on Via-Stolas plot the most.

But before I dive deeper, let me say this:

Even though their final moment was painful, especially for Stolas, it represents a significant change and possible start of progress in their relationship.

Aside from her song being an absolute 2000-s teen rock banger, Via doing a repraise on Stolas' lullaby was so impactful, mostly because she's telling herself and us as audience that she has grown up a lot and is seeing things from different perspective.

And even though she's still very much hurt that Stolas chose Blitz over her, the conflict in her feelings is so well-portrayed in my opinion, especially when she asks these two questions:

During her song and while looking through her dad's stuff, she had many realizations. Realized her dad was struggling a lot, to the point he was taking anti-depressants on the daily, but we still see how young she is and how important her dad's attention still is to her.

So, now we have this 17-year old who had realized her father stayed in an loveless marriage because of her and does feel some sort of relief about him finally "doing what he wants"....

But she's also hurt that her dad still, in her opinion, didn't consider her important enough to choose "her over Blitz".

These are heavy and conflicting feeling she's dealing with, guilt over "holding Stolas down" while also being angry and disappointed that she wasn't "important enough to him to stay by her side"

However, I will remain adamant about one thing:

Via does not, or will ever, hate Stolas.

She is very disappointed, hurt and angry, and has every right to be, but her perspective is slowly changing. She is still a very young girl who needs support and love of her parents, but is slowly realizing how strong she is on her own, just as her dad was telling her in his lullaby.

We have a lot to go through with these two in the next 30 episodes of the show.

Octavia still doesn't have the full picture nor does she realize the full scale of Stella's abusw towards Stolas, which I think will change her opinion even more. But developing her arc to forgive him will take a long, long time. Because, when a parent hurts you or disappoints you, its a wound that doesn't heal easily.

As for Stolas, he still has to come to terms about how much his life has changed. All of his buried emotions, good and bad, are coming out, and he still has a long way to go in his healing and acceptance of who he really is and wants to be.

But the most important thing for him is to realize that Via doesn't actually hate him.

Boy.... this show is amazing. Loved every second of this episode and this whole situation and setup for season 3 will pick my brain until the next full episode comes out.

Happy holidays everyone, and merry Sinsmas!

[dragonfly0808]

TimeBomb (Fix-It?) Fic with a side of Zaun Revolution

The inspiration really hit today, I feel like I blinked and all of a sudden I had 7k of a new fic.

what is it about? Well…

Whilst I really enjoyed s2 of Arcane and I loved almost everything about it, I will admit there was one specific plot point I was really disapointed didn’t go anywhere and one character decision that I just couldn’t get behind.

First off; watching Arc 1/2 and especially episode 4 I was fucking pumped at the idea of a Zaun revolution plotline, and, since i watched the seasons back to back, I’ll be honest, watching episode 4 combined with the fact that in the opening credits we see Jinx waving a flag, my immediate thoughts were OH MY FUCKING GOD JINX IS GONNA LEAD A REVOLUTION AND FULLFILL SILCO’S DREAM OF AN INDEPENDENT ZAUN…

Obviously I felt like a clown when that did not happen

and then for the character decision… I’m not really a fan of the ‘you’re too far gone the only thing you can do now is sacrifice yourself for the greater good/to save someone’ character arc. Especially because I really wanted to see Jinx get better since, at the end of s1 her identity crisis is over, she choses Jinx and then I thought that maybe we could get maybe not a redemption arc but at least see her get better whilst staying partially chaotic

A part of me really likes what they did (up until her sacrifice) but a greater part of me is just- disappointed. Especially after the whole ‘No matter what happened in the past it’s never too late to build something new’ bit. It just felt a little cruel.

And i know of the Jinx is alive theory and I believe it but still- I just don’t like that this was the end for Jinx in Arcane, I would’ve loved to see her and Cait having to come to terms with both their crimes and what they allowed their respective grief to turn them into.

also Ekko didn’t deserve to end the series alone, not after everything he did and everything he gave up.

and so, with these two specific things in mind, pondering on it I found myself writing a little smth.

A fic that takes place right after the Stillwater breakout BUT- Jinx, Sevika and Isha escape before the Beast gets there AND Ekko returns from the alternate timeline early, pushing Jinx along with Sevika to convince her to be a part of the rebellion.

So far, I’ve got 7k words on this and I’m thinking on how to involve Vi (another thing is that I felt we should’ve gotten a bit more time with her) since, in my mind, the revolution of Zaun should’ve been led by Vi, Ekko and Jinx.

Ekko to represent the fight for the future and as the face of the Firelights.

Jinx to represent the fight for the present (since her arc would involve starting to heal and finding smth worth fighting for) and of course to also represent Silco and his dream

And Vi to represent the past (since a big part of her character is being stuck in the past) and Vander

Jinx and Vi get to right the wrongs of the past and join forces like Silco and Vander never got to! (Because why include that letter if nothing really came from it?) also, as a sister who’s had a lot of ups and downs with her big sister, I would’ve KILLED to get to see more of their new dynamic ‘Here’s to the new us’.

Also Isha lives because she deserved better and also Ekko gets to be her dad.

still unsure on how/if I incorporate Cait cause I LOVE her arc and would love to write her and Jinx/Ekko interacting

but yeah basically, this is a Timebomb fic with a heavy focus on Jinx becoming the leader of a revolution (since at first it’s more, Jinx is the symbol, Ekko is the brains. And maybe at some point it’s more like; Ekko is the heart, Jinx is the symbol/leader and Vi is the strength OR Ekko is the leader/brains, Jinx is the symbol/leader/face and Vi is the heart, you know cause- YOU HAVE A GOOD HEART DON’T EVER LOSE IT)

Also a big part of chapter 2 somehow wound up being a look into Sevika’s mindset and why she’s lowkey the biggest supporter of Zaun? So if you like Sevika I got you!

so uhh… yeah.

i’m thinking on the name and just to know what yall think, knowing what the focus would be what title do you think would work best?

Will prob start posting once I’ve got 5 chapters, which, if I keep up the pace will prob be in 2 or 3 days

also, should i tag it as Fix-It? Not sure if I should tbh

Here’s a few little peaks! A tiny part of Ekko convincing Jinx to be a symbol (that was a LONG scene)/Part of the speech that starts it all/Isha being adorable in the Firelight’s base

Ekko adjusted his coat on her, she hadn’t really noticed him getting close enough to do so, “I fought so long to make the undercity a better place, or to at least create a safe place in it, but I got so wrapped up in all the ways that we’ve been screwed over, failed, in all the ways that it wasn’t even half of what I’d dreamed of no matter how hard I tried that I was starting to lose hope. But seeing that world… it helped me realize that… no matter what happened in the past, it’s never too late to build something new.” 

Jinx forced herself to met his eyes, unsure of what to do under the weight of his soft eyes and the careful way he’d somehow gotten his hands in hers, stopping her from digging her nails into her palms.

“…someone worth building it for.”

Jinx felt something in her starting to crack, “I don’t know if I know how to build anything.”

“That’s alright,” he quickly assured her, his own eyes glittering with tears, “we can learn. This right here Jinx… this is our chance. I saw the murals, the posters, what you said back in the airshaft- if Piltover is targeting us… then maybe- just maybe, this could be our chance to bring all of the undercity together. To stand against Piltover, make them finally see us. I’m not saying we burn them to the ground but- we can fight back, fight for respect, for a seat at the table.”

Jinx took a step back, shaking her head, “I can’t- I’m not like you- I’m not a leader or- or some inspirational figure. They’re just desperate for anything to believe in. I’m not- I don’t deserve their faith.”

“But you’re the first to take a real stand in a long time. Sure it was an… explosive stand but a stand regardless. Directly against the Council, the people who have passed all the laws to try and make us less than them in the past. Who have had no trouble ignoring our struggles and claiming blissful ignorance when they screw us over. You have the chance to help bring people together. If we can stop killing each other over Piltover’s scraps and for territory… we can stand our ground. This could be the start of a rebellion. A revolution.”

“…I’ll screw it up. I always do.”

“You won’t… and if it does go wrong… it won’t be on you. We can do this Jinx, together.”

Jinx looked back out to the city line.

It’d been Silco’s dream.

To be recognized by Piltover. 

He hadn’t been able to bring Zaun together, sure, but everything he’d done had forced Zaun into progress… even if it wasn’t always in the best of ways. His biggest dream had always been of Zaun being it’s own nation.

It was the dream that’d been within his grasp, close enough to touch but that he had meant to reject in the end.

For her.

She’d bombed the Council as a way to honor him.

To finally show them all.

Everything had gone to shit the moment he was gone.

But now… now all of Zaun had a common enemy. 

There had been no singular group in Stillwater. Instead a coglamoration of Jinxers and Firelights and members from every gang Jinx knew of.

That meant that there had been no division at Sevika’s rally.

That for once, every part of Zaun had been open to the possibility of fighting for the same cause and had been promptly punished for it.

Jinx slowly turned back to Ekko.

Building something knew… he’d said Powder used her abilities to create instead of destroying… could she do the same?

Someone worth building it for… she thought of the hopeful look in Ekko’s eyes. Of the way the people of Zaun had, for a moment, embraced her, wrapping her in gratitude and misplaced but real hope as they passed by her. And of course, she thought of Isha, who deserved so much more than… this.

“I’m not saying I’ll be good at it… but I suppose I could give it a shot.”

Ekko reached out quickly, Jinx barely having time to flinch before he was tugging at her and-

Pulling her into a hug, all but crushing her against him, arms wrapped tightly against him.

She exhaled, falling against him, hiding her face against his chest.

They stayed like that for what was possibly an embarrassingly long time.

When she eventually managed to pull back, she turned away to wipe away her tears.

“So… how exactly does one start a revolution?”

—————————

“This is the time to stand together!” Ekko’s voice came as he stepped out from the crowd, wearing his firelight mask, going to take it off as he went to stand next to Sevika, “To leave aside the labels and separation and to work together, it’s the only way we’ll survive what’s coming next. Piltover wants us divided. They have always benefited from us killing each other, being at each other’s throats, fighting for territory and for their scraps. Not anymore! We need to stand together! To show them that we will not backdown! That they can’t invade our streets, our homes and expect us to just lay down and take it! That-”

“Where is Jinx?!” Demanded a voice, thought she couldn’t tell exactly where it came from.

Ekko sighed, casting a glance her way, waiting.

Jinx took a deep breath.

“Right here!” She called out as she went to take off her cloak, the people around her quickly going to clear a path as she sauntered on forwards, stopping next to Ekko for a moment before going to stand on the metal box Sevika had left on the floor, “You wanted to see me? Well here I am!”

Most of the crowd gathered around her, after a moment of stunned silence, started applauding, whilst some other looked like they wanted nothing more than to shake her and ask her what exactly her plan was.

Jinx glanced to Ekko, who gave her a quiet encouraging nod.

Welp, she didn’t really have anything to lose.

“Now… I don’t know much about leading, or about being some- revolutionary… but I do know about fighting. And I know about Piltover’s crimes.”

She recalled all of Silco’s sermones and every story and complaint he ever told her about all Piltover had and constantly took for granted.

This had never been her dream. But it had been her dad’s. And maybe it had started becoming her own the moment Isha had dropped into her life.

“I know that Enforcers have killed hundreds of us, a lot of times, for no good reason other than to show us that we are lesser than them, for us daring to stand up for ourselves, for doing what we gotta do to survive. That they have thrown dozens of us in cells without a trial just because they can. But the second we lay our hands on a single one of their precious Council members they suddenly have the right to invade our streets? To cry for justice to be delivered? It’s bullshit!”

A lot of them started nodding along, she could see the anger rising up in them.

——————————

Jinx took a deep breath before gently placing Isha on the railing, keeping a hand on the back of her vest, “Look at that kid. You like it?”

Isha’s eyes widened in a way that would’ve been comical if it weren’t heartbreaking. This was probably the first proper tree she’d ever seen.

Jinx set her down on the floor and the girl started jumping from foot to foot, clearly thrilled.

Ekko chuckled as he went to crouch down, “You see that platform to the right?” He asked as he pointed, Isha following before nodding, “That’s where the kids we have here play. We even managed to get our hands on some Piltover toys if you wanna go check it out. Jinx and I will be by the base of the tree if you need us.”

Isha hesitated, going to grab Jinx’s leg.

The girl had gotten a lot more confident since Jinx had first met her but it was obvious she had some anxiety about being apart.

Jinx went to crouch as well, gently running her thumb over Isha’s eyebrow before playfully pinching her cheek, Isha trying to act annoyed and push her away but smiling, “You should go kiddo. See if they got any good stuff. I’ll be right down there, I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Isha inspected her for a long moment before nodding along, adjusting her metal helmet as though it were armor before starting to make her way towards the platform.

“She seems like a good kid.” Ekko said.

“She is. She’s the best.”

[justanotherhh]

some trailer things:

big fight around lust/ozzie's place that involves m&m and loona + we know fizzarolli is going to make another appearance, so i wonder how that'll connect potentially. also, new villain?

obvs the whole section of CHERUB working with DHORKS and this massive thing/portal:

john waters big villain episode???? (ghostfuckers from the looks of things)

also more crossdressing in that same episode + millie vs possessed blitz? both millie and blitz giving some evil dead type vibes?

more on stolas' whole social sphere and potential judgement and hell's class politics related to his dating blitz + p much confirmed that blitz will not take stolas' gift in the spirit it was intended

also, "you fucks think you can do this every time-" feels not just like it's about the wider class issues in hell, but maybe like it's personal (potentially with verosika? although it does seem like it's canon that he had more than a little bit of a hand in ending that relationship, so could just be him echoing everything he's been seeing in the treatment of imps and putting that onto stolas in this moment)

and then "thank you blitz, for making me so happy, even for a little while" is during this moment too. lot of teasers for how this is gonna go down (badly, upsettingly, emotionally)

the whole "do you feel any remorse for what you do" feels like a misdirect -- that is, it's edited to look like it's about blitz, but i feel like it's directed at stella or her brother

generally a lot of fun stolas visuals that i won't get into here, but am excited to see more contexts for

also this isn't new, but im always interested in blitz's heart/broken-heart forehead marking

blitz and tilla moment! generally more flashbacks (in the shape of blitz seeming to be almost at the movies, watching his own "failures") around the time of the fire! i didn't see any barbie stuff, alas, but the rest of it looks !!! also lowkey confirmed it was cash who stopped blitz from seeing fizz in hospital

who's this?

another sin? maybe related to ozzie and/or stolas and that judgement of the kinds of people they love?

blitz protecting stolas - maybe from the above, considering the hand motif of it all... stolas really living the life of blitz as a romantic hero, while blitz is barely holding it together as a person the whole time. different genres, my guys. different genres (that's their real communication issue)

this fuck-you-blitz cake looks like a verosika thing to do, esp considering it's her calling him shitty in the VO -- but yay, maybe giving that verosika catharsis, but also generally just verosika!

also the VO part where he says he doesn't want to be this way, he's wearing the same shroud as during his confrontation with verosika. idk, im just. contexts for things. i am curious

is the below also the same episode? I'd think so. it's set during halloween (?) and blitz is then maybe in the blood-covered shroud (costume? undercover? going undercover as a ghost? post-breakup stalking undercover ghost costume?)

MAMMON! and he looks pleased. oh dear.

this blitz + fizz moment

it kinda looks like blitz is wearing the same tee as when he and stolas have their moment + a horse bag + fizz casual wear. fizz generally in this trailer seems to be having the best time (outside the flashbacks). everything makes me suspicious all the time

(also generally hello all the different outfits coming up!!)

fascinated by this:

is that millie?

things we didn't see:

no barbie, no striker, no crimson, no asmodeus (directly, although his imagery is everywhere + fizz and mammon appear), no paimon -- this not to say none of them will show up, but am enjoying that a lot of this is clearly pulling from s1, with the focus on verosika, DHORKS, and CHERUB -- potentially a lot of the s2 villains need some time to lick their wounds a bit (and paimon was never a Villain, just a terrible parent... if he ever returns though...)

and barbie... i do want to see barbie again soonish ngl, she needs some proper introducing, but this is already giving so much callback and continuation of immediate plot-threads, very excited