#rambling about raise dead my favorite

[eskawrites]

[Director's commentary] Any crumbs you can throw my way about the Oh Death, Where Is Your Sting? series (aka Raise Dead series my absolute beloved) will be much appreciated! Few fics hurt as much and as good as this series does tbh lol <3

yes oh my gosh raise dead my beloved <3 a few fun facts:

the original working title was 'Revivify' because that is a much more common resurrection spell in modern D&D, but Revivify 1) has to be cast immediately after death, so it didnt work for the story and 2) didn't exist in original AD&D, so that's not what they'd be calling it anyway

Dustin talks a little bit about how the spell needs to be cast in a certain amount of time (one day per cleric level) or else it won't work. El obviously doesn't have actual levels as a spellcaster, but I did equate it to her age. She's 14, so they had 14 days to cast the spell or else it wouldn't work. They cut it pretty close. Dustin tells them all his theory 12 days after Robin dies, and they revive her on day 13

there's a lot of Critical Role inspiration in this tbh, to the point that I was tempted to write a Matthew Mercer style resurrection ceremony for Robin. El battling to free Robin from Vecna also took some vague inspiration from Percy and Orthax in the Vox Machina campaign. but by the time I started writing I strayed a bit away from that and turned into a good ol' fashioned demodog/vecna mind battle fight instead because that fit better

part 2 of this series, "what could've been, would've been," was written entirely just so I could write out Robin's happy memory of everyone hanging out by the pool

there is zero actual plot in my notes for the rest of this series, even though i do have a lot of notes and scenes written out. that's part of why i haven't returned to it yet--i don't really know what the deal is with vecna now that he no longer has robin, and tbh that i don't reallyyyy care all that much. but what i do want to explore is the impact that dying and resurrecting has on robin. it's an idea i love to think about in actual D&D--when resurrection is possible, what does that mean for the characters who experience it? how does it affect the natural cycle of life? in the "real world," aka stranger things canon, how does it affect the way el sees herself and her powers? or the way robin views herself and her place in the world? and what kind of impact does it have on her body? her mind? her emotions? her relationships with everyone around her?

there's a part of Robin that worries she's too broken to be loved, after she comes back. the more symptoms she has because of her death, the more she thinks she's not good enough for Nancy

there's also a scene with her and Erica, which tbh is the thing I'm most looking forward to writing in future parts of this series, where she steps between Erica and a demodog and it fucks them both up a little bit, the idea that Robin could die again protecting the people she loves, and the idea that Erica could lose her again because she's protecting her

Nancy develops a habit of feeling Robin's pulse anytime she gets stressed or scared. it gets to the point that Robin will grab Nancy's hand and place it over her heart as a way to calm her down or steady her. Nancy is embarrassed by it for a while, but it is the most effective way to comfort her

[sameteeth]

anyways, i do think its really interesting that chuuya figures out that dazai was putting pieces into place to get him ousted from the sheep like a month ahead of time... its also really interesting to consider WHY dazai did it and the implications it carries. dazai watches shirase and yuan pressure and guilt chuuya about "doing his part" for the sheep as a person with an ability, then immediately takes action to relieve pressure from chuuya

which is kinda funny bc dazai at least in the short term is following what shirase is saying - dazai has the ability to help save the hostages, and he does lol. demon prodigy indeed. MORE IMPORTANTLY though. dazai recognizes that chuuya is being controlled by the sheep even though he is the leader. chuuya and mori make good comparisons here - this arc starts with mori bemoaning his responsibility as the boss of the port mafia, and we see chuuya consistently failing to do his responsibility as the leader of the sheep. he even denies the title of king, stating that it's only his ability that puts him above the rest. to digress a bit, i think this is partly why when chuuya joins the port mafia he so quickly submits to them - he is no longer the sole ability user, and thus the responsibility doesnt rely entirely on him to protect the group. something to be said here about the way bsd almost never touches on the ability user vs non-ability user dichotomy but ill save that. back to the main point. dazai takes it upon himself to free chuuya from the sheep. he acknowledges the limitations chuuya has to function under as the leader of the sheep and the weight of the responsibility he bears for no reason other than his ability

but then! dazai forces chuuya into the port mafia to save him from the sheep ! doesnt that seem contradictory??? isnt that hypocritical? chuuya seems pissed about it!

granted, I'd be pissed too if my friends stabbed me with a switch covered in rat poison then tried to gun me down. regardless, chuuya can see how dazai set him up to be outcast from the sheep without having to break the tie himself. chuuya is loyal to the sheep, even when they distrust him. But! this gives chuuya a chance to escape, even if it's to the port mafia. i think the important thing to focus on here is that the port mafia is an Actual organization made up of adults. the sheep are a bunch of kids, ones that are easily led. the limited pieces we see of them are shirase and yuan, who throw temper tantrums and try to clumsily manipulate chuuya when he doesn't listen to them. they admit to stealing alcohol from mafia-adjacent territory and just generally seem immature... because theyre kids. but what we see of the mafia is much different. mori is a strong leader because he is smart and rational. he thinks ahead. he, unlike chuuya, is the leader because he wants to protect yokohama, and understands the sacrifice necessary to do so. chuuya is the leader because no one could beat him in a fight. the port mafia offers a chance for growth (ignoring that these are children in the mafia ok play with me here) as a fighter and as a leader - chuuya becomes an exec when he's still a teenager i think (theres not a specific age anywhere i can find) and is a much more calm and smart fighter once he joins.

so it's good (play with me) that chuuya is able to join the port mafia. BUT he would never have been able to leave if dazai had not forced his hand. this paradox - the idea that chuuya obtains freedom from being forced to leave something he doesn't want to - is SUPER interesting to consider !! here i will dissolve into rambles. i learned about this paradox in the context of mary wollstonecraft and the vindication of the rights of women - wollstonecraft believed only educated people could truly be free, as they were not only free of oppression but also no longer slaves to their emotions, and were able to have opportunities and use their education for their own betterment. the situation with chuuya reminded me of this, because with the sheep chuuya had no one to rely on or to teach him, limiting his capacity for growth and ultimately his freedom. the sheep were reliant on him for protection, and feared him, but chuuya had everything to lose if he were to try and leave the sheep. he had nothing without them, and they needed him for his power. but they were beholden to their emotions, immature and uncertain how to actually get power. their primary motivators for action are retaliation - dazai mentions this when chuuya attacks him, and shirase and yuan mention this when they are urging chuuya to help them. but when chuuya talks to mori and koyo (<3) about their actions, both of them are much more forward thinking than that. mori is very cunning and sly, and koyo tells chuuya that even if things go south in the meeting she's taking him to to, they know how to move forward. chuuya's world has expanded beyond the sheep's limited gaze.

of course, he's still trapped in the port mafia, but if you REALLY want to discuss free will..... we'll be here all fucking night. free will is really hard to pin down and i always have to talk about determinism and its a lot to wrap ur head around and i just like drawing connections between stuff i like

[gghostwriter]

Lips of a Gentleman

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Part 1 || Future take Summary: A spontaneous museum date alters your relationship with Spencer for the better Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 1.2k a/n: This is actually an anon request about going on a museum date with Spencer and interrupting his ramblings with a kiss and I couldn’t help myself so I connected this to ‘Wanted: A Gentleman.’ I also used my favorite painter here as a prop to yap so I hope you like it! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! masterlist

It was a Saturday afternoon when the BAU team closed a serial killer case in the state of New York. They were called in four nights ago and the stress mixed with a high dose of adrenaline that had run through their veins were on it’s way out of their system, leaving all the members dead to their feet and wishing for much needed rest over the remaining weekend.

“Hotch,” Reid captured his unit chief’s attention as they waited for the remaining members, Morgan and Rossi, to come down from their respective hotel rooms. “I’d like to stay behind, if that’s alright.”

There was a minuscule eyebrow raise from Hotch in question.

“Huh,” Emily mused, a teasing smile appearing on her face. “Funny, there’s also a certain someone that we know—” she gestured to herself and JJ. “—who’s in New York today. Isn’t that right, JJ?”

The blonde profiler let out a laugh. “Yeah, I wonder if that has something to do with Spence staying behind.”

“Well, does it?” Emily lightly elbowed him in jest.

Spencer clears his throat, trying his best to come off casual but utterly failing with his voice going up an octave. “Maybe.”

“It’s the weekend, take your day off,” Hotch conceded. “And Reid, congratulations.”

“For what?”

A tenor voice answered behind him. Morgan, it was Morgan. “For finally getting a girlfriend.”

“Good on you, kid,” Rossi added on, patting his back as he made his way through.

———

Locks of hair were escaping your loosely tied bun as you brisk walked to get to the steps of the MET museum. The emergency meeting with suppliers ran a little later than you anticipated making you already fifteen minutes late from your agreed meet up with Spencer.

A smile graced your face as your thoughts settled on the perfect gentleman. It had been a perfect match made by your three friends, Emily, Penelope, and JJ.

A blind date that had gone so great that it blossomed another date and another. This spontaneous one marked as the fifth and it brought to mind the first meeting at the steps of the Smithsonian and Spencer’s chivalrous move of tying your loose shoe lace.

“I’m so sorry for being late,” your voice reaching Spencer’s ears before he spots you adjusting the straps of your falling shoulder bag approaching his form. “The supplier didn’t come on time so I—I’m sorry.”

He rocked on his heels, hands wrapped around his satchel strap. “That’s alright, I just arrived myself.”

You knew it was a lie but appreciated his effort in trying to make you feel better. That was just one of the many things you could see yourself falling for in Spencer. As if you weren’t already halfway there.

“Shall we?” His lips forming a smile, no doubt remembering those were the exact words he said during the first date.

You giggled, echoing the same response. “We shall.”

“So is there a specific section you want to visit first?” Spencer asked as he flashed two admission tickets at the entrance.

“Hm,” you scooted closer to his svelte protective form, avoiding the onslaught of tourists groups excitedly entering. “The gallery of European paintings?”

He smiled and nodded. His left hand hovering near the small of your back, never touching—its’ warmth penetrating the thick layers of your coat and sweater while the gesture made your heart flutter fast like the hummingbird’s wings.

There was comfortable silence in between you. Inconspicuous side glances and shy smiles that say a thousand more words that seemingly can’t or won’t be spoken out loud. The tranquility was a sharp contrast to the bustling and echoing noise all around the museum as guests discuss with their partners the surrounding art and take photos as personal mementos.

Your feet came to a stop in front of your favorite artist’s work. “I always did prefer his work more than Van Gogh.”

Spencer smiled, gaze warm on your side profile as his eyes traced the escaped locks of hair that framed the modern art standing beside him which was you and your expressive face. His fingers, as if hypnotized, reached out to tuck one side that casted a shadow on your feature behind your pinking ear. “Actually, when you look at Klimt’s early landscape paintings, you could see he took inspiration from the Dutch painter.”

“Really?” Your body twisting to face him.

He studied your body language. Arms limp at the sides, open and trusting. Torso slightly leaning forward, attention fully captivated. And eyes wide, twinkling with curiosity. “Yeah, yeah—” he nodded, his own body mimicking yours and its unsaid language. “—and although Klimt’s colors are stronger in contrast, the impact from having viewed Van Gogh’s paintings in his earlier life can be spotted in his brush strokes and painting subjects.”

“Spence, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way but you don’t strike me as an art critic. Is it a side of you that I’m only finding about now?” You teased.

“No,” he laughed, tucking his hands at the front of his jeans to fight the urge to touch you once more. “I read about it.”

“Can you tell me more then?” you further leaned in and whispered. “I bet you’d do a slightly better job than their pre-recorded audio tours.”

Spencer threw his head back and let a few chuckles echo on the walls. Your mind and its clever wit had impressed him since the first date. It was one of the many things he could see falling for in you. That was a half lie. In full truth, it was one of the many things that made him fall for you.

“Well, Klimt’s most expensive painting was previously stolen by the Nazis during WWII when they occupied Austria. Austrian Museum housed it after the war but there was a court battle for it and they had to return it the the family owner. And in 2006, Oprah actually bought it—” your smooth hands cupped his face, bringing his ramblings into a stuttering halt. His heartbeat, nestled within his ribcage, threatening to break from its confines as you stood on your tip toes, leaving a series of small kisses at ends of his mouth before landing on his awaiting lips.

“I—I’m so sorry,” eyes wide as you leaned back from his reach. A move that didn’t widen the gap as his body hunched itself forward, following you in its wake. “I couldn’t resist.”

He answered with a longer kiss, fingers twining with your silky locks of hair that had fascinated him since a while ago. “Don’t be. I’ve been wanting to do that too, I just didn’t know if you’d welcome it.”

You exhaled a giggle, cheeks pink with happiness. “You definitely can, anytime.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” his smile mirrored the euphoria written on your face. If he were to try to describe this very emotion, he’d compare it to walking on cloud nine. To winning a lottery. Or perhaps to finding an invaluable art piece meant just for him.

And while the surroundings were still dull and mundane, there were a burst of colors that splashed Spencer’s world anew as his warm comforting hand now finally found its way to yours and his thumb invisibly painting abstract at the back of your palm.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[reiderwriter]

hi i love your writing

could you do something with reid loving that reader is pregnant. fluff or smut or both

A/N Hello! Thanks for the request! Dad!Spencer is the cutest thing on the planet so this is some unapologetic fluff. And now I have baby fever.

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, idiots in love. Loosely based on Haley and Hotch's conversation in 1x1. Very fluffy and probably very cheesy and sentimental too... Sorry, you give me girl dad Spencer and suddenly there isn't an impure thought in my head, I just want to lovingly stare at him like I'm the dead wife in an action movie montage.

My requests are open, check out my masterlist for more 🌸

“Okay, what about Amelia?”

“No, Amelia Dyer, Victorian serial killer. She killed multiple infants over a thirty-year period.”

“Okay, okay, how about, Myra?”

“Myra Hindley, she and her partner Ian Brady abducted and killed five children and teens in the early sixties.”

“God, not that then. There can’t be a psychopathic murderer called Belle, right?”

“You’re making this too easy for me, y’know. Belle Gunness, Hell’s Belle, she’s one of the most prolific female serial killers of all time, even 100 years after her supposed death. It’s fascinating, you know, people think that she actually faked her death - when the doctor who performed the postmortem testified, he noted that the cadaver was about five inches shorter and about fifty pounds lighter than Gunness supposedly was….” You raise a single eyebrow at your wonderful husband, and he immediately shuts up.

“I’m rambling aren’t I?” He smiled down at you as you sat curled up as much as you could in your favorite spot on the couch, the cosiest part of your shared apartment. You smiled back up at him as he leaned down for a kiss and you gladly craned your neck up in response, meeting his lips for a sweet moment.

“Hotch was right you know,” you joked when the two of you parted. “All of the best baby names have been taken by serial killers.”

“Yeah, you’d think with the ratio of female to male serial killers, a girl would be easier to name.” He leans down to kiss you again before falling into a crouch next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and placing his hand on your stomach.

“How big did you say our little girl is now?”

“Y/N, you asked me that half an hour ago. I know pregnancy messes with your brain a bit, but if you’re that bad we’re going to have to get you back to Dr Patel and see if you’re doing okay.” He was joking of course, but you showed him your little pout anyway, knowing that he loved seeing the silly expression on your face.

“Humor me, Doctor.” He strokes your stomach and moves away, but not too far away, taking up right next to you on the couch, and pulling your legs over his lap.

“At five months, she’s roughly 10 inches long with a weight of about 0.5-1 pound. But that ‘How Big is My Baby’ book would say that she’s roughly one banana in length.” You giggled up at him and he grabbed your hand and just held it, content to have you in his arms in any way, big or small.

“I can’t believe it’s been five months already,” you giggle as he presses another kiss to your hand.

“I get it. It doesn’t feel quite real yet to me, either. I thought for so long that fatherhood just wasn’t in my future, but you’re the gift that keeps on giving I guess. I don't know what I did to deserve you.” Even if the words weren’t so sweet, with all of the hormones, you would’ve started crying at anything. Or at least that’s what you’re going to tell him when he sees the small tears threatening to drop into enormous loving sobs.

“Spencer Reid, I am not a gift. I am simply the woman with the correct combination of sense and foolish luck that got to marry you.” He’d done this before, and you were used to his small habit of self-deprecating talk, but after a year of marriage and three years of dating before that, you’d managed to work him down to the occasional comment.

“Don’t try to argue about this, I’m definitely the one benefitting the most from the situation right now,” he joked with you, and you could see the genuine adoration shining from behind his eyes. It was a little spark that not many got to see, a glimpse of true happiness in someone usually so reserved.

“Spencer, you’ve given me foot rubs everyday this week, you’ve read more pregnancy and parenting books than every OBGYN and midwife in the area combined, and you’ve somehow attended more of my clinical check-ups than me, and I’m the one whose pregnant.”

“And you’re growing our child inside of you, which is itself more impressive than anything I could ever do with a book and some modern acts of chivalry.”

“Yeah, tell your boss that. I think the only thing keeping Emily from pulling her hair out over your constant absences is that she thinks she’s competing for the title of godmother. She thinks Penelope and JJ are trying to corrupt me with parenting advice and all those baby clothes Pen keeps bringing over.”

“She’s going to be crushed when she remembers we’re not religious, right?”

“Devastated,” the two of you shared a laugh on the couch, and it quickly devolved into a giggle fit after Spencer leaned over and tickled your side. You jolted away from his touch, but he was on you again, attacking your sides with small caresses, and you were gasping for breath between laughs.

“Spence stop- ahh!” Your squeals stopped as you cried out in shock. It was small but you felt something tap against your stomach. Spencer stopped immediately upon seeing your expression change, and a serious look settled on him as he assessed you for any damage.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you in pain anywhere, is the baby okay?” He shot out the questions rapidly, one after the other, barely leaving space to catch his own breath from the laughter of earlier.

It happened again and you put a hand to your stomach, finally realising what’s going on.

“I think I just felt her kick. Spencer, I think I just felt the baby kick.” You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your face, as much as you couldn’t help the tear that dropped from your eye as your hand rested against your belly again, scared to move for fear that the baby wouldn’t communicate with you again.

“What? Now? Can I- Can I try and feel it, too?” His hands hesitated at first but when you enthusiastically nodded and used your other hand to put him close to yours, you could feel his eagerness to feel the small kicks of your daughter as well.

Almost as if she was waiting for him, as soon as his hand was in the right position, your little girl kicked again, almost as if screaming “I’m here mommy and daddy,” for the two of you to hear.

“I think she’s trying to tell us not to have fun without her,” Reid whispered in your ear, kissing your tear streaked cheek, and using his free hand to rub them away from the other side of your face.

“I am so thankful everyday for this gift you have given me. And for the record, the gift isn’t the baby. The gift is the overwhelming happiness you bring to my life, and the beauty you make me see in this world. The fact that you’re going to be the mother of my child gives me the confidence to get up and go to work every morning because I know that there is joy and there is kindness and there are beautiful people in this world, and you are one, and she will be, too.”

His attempts to dry your tears are now completely vanquished as you let your emotions run wild, but you almost laugh when you realise that his eyes are just as glassy as yours, and you both sit there, overwhelmed by the pure, unadulterated joy that a small kick from a child who has yet to be given a name has bought you.

[anomalyaly]

Illicit Spell Practice

The spicy version of my oneshot 'Crossed Wands.' Some parts are the same, most of it is changed to make it NSFW. Written for the OHL discord server NSFW event: The Truman Show.

AO3/Wattpad

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+, NSFW, MINORS DNI

Tags: Exhibitionism (sort of), public sex, unprotected p in v sex, disregard for period-accurate undergarments because I just don't care, Sebastian made me break my rule which is unsurprising, Sebastian no longer has blue balls (if you read my oneshot 'Nut Cracked', you know), Silencing charm? What's that?

2.6k words

“You’re doing it wrong.”

Sebastian grinned as Elsie let out a huff and cast the spell at the dummy again, earning her another disappointed tut.

“You’re still doing it wrong.”

She threw her arms up in exasperation. “Just because you repeat yourself doesn’t mean I can figure out what it is I’m doing wrong!”

Sebastian laughed as the Ravenclaw girl scrunched up her face — one of his favorite expressions she wore. Somehow, she managed to make frustration look incredibly adorable. “Your casting looks like you memorized your form from a textbook.”

“Maybe,” she clicked her tongue at him, “that’s because I did memorize my form from a textbook.”

That didn’t come as a surprise to him. Elsie was constantly working on improving her skill set, whether by absorbing information from a book or studying someone else's techniques. It was as if once she had been given the task of "catching up to the other students her year", she didn't quite know how to stop.

"Your wand is an extension of you," he said, demonstrating a more fluid movement, then gently grabbing her arms and guiding her the same way. She had rolled up her sleeves after complaining that she was too hot from all the practicing she had been doing, and the sight of the loosened buttons on her collar along with the feel of the bare skin of her arms were a bit distracting to him. He forced himself to stay focused on the mechanics of spell-casting instead. "Think of it as a dance — one move drifts into the next."

"Are you insinuating you're a good dancer?" Her face was still scrunched, but he saw her eyes flicker tauntingly, and he was tempted to say fuck it and whisk her away to a hidden corridor.

Instead, he smirked at her, and he didn't miss the gooseflesh that prickled on her arm as he brushed his fingertips along it before he reluctantly pulled away. If only she wasn't so adamant about practicing.

"I can't go around telling you all my secrets, now, can I?" he teased. She responded with an amused snort.

"Alright," she sighed, raising her wand at the dummy again. "Once more."

It was the hundredth time she had said it, but Sebastian knew better than to insist that she take a break. She was stubborn, he had learned early on, and she wouldn't quit until she was confident she'd gotten it right. He took a step back to give her the appropriate amount of space to cast her spell.

He watched from the unfortunately respectable distance as Elsie took in a deep breath and pursed her luscious, pink lips in concentration, and all he could think about was that there were a million other things he'd rather she be doing with them instead. Had she not been so persistent in asking him to teach her his dueling techniques, he would have suggested a better way they could make use of their spare time.

His lascivious thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her spell striking the dummy dead center, knocking it backward and slamming it against the far wall. Her face lit up in a wide grin.

"I did it!" Elsie bounced on her toes excitedly and spun in place as she congratulated herself on a job well done. Sebastian thought he may have heard her rambling about how she told him so and something else about practice making perfect, but he couldn't pick out most of what she was saying as his mind wandered once again.

She hardly ever showed excitement like this — completely unrestrained elation that she only ever allowed a select few to see. He should be so honored to be at the top of that list, witnessing a side of her that she kept hidden away for rare moments such as these. The sight of her unbridled joy simultaneously sent a surge of affection and a rush of arousal through him.

So, he did the only thing that seemed logical and grabbed her arm mid-twirl, pulling her body flush against his and cutting off her chatter as he hungrily pressed his lips to hers.

He didn't fully realize or care about what he was doing or who could be watching as he ran his hands along her sides before wrapping his arms fully around her waist, desperate to feel every soft curve of hers against him. One hand found the hem of her blouse, the other threaded in her hair as he groaned against her mouth. He nipped at her lower lip, which elicited a soft whimper from her; or perhaps a half-hearted protest — he wasn't certain. It only served to fuel him further as he tugged the material free from her skirt and lightly skimmed the warm, silky flesh beneath it.

“I want you.”

“Sebastian,” she managed, her voice breathy and pleading — a stark contrast to the bubbly attitude she had exhibited only moments ago, “not here…”

Without breaking away from her, he guided both of them to the nearby storage room, his heart pounding with the thrill of potentially getting caught and wanting to take her immediately. Pressing his back against the door, he turned the handle and pulled her inside the small space, his lips never straying too far from hers before closing it behind them again.

The room held a small array of what could be considered junk—covered statues and other centuries-old nonsense that no one could be bothered with — but it wasn’t completely isolated. Two small, slitted windows along one wall opened up to the Clock Tower courtyard. If anyone was to pass by, they would easily see and hear everything.

It wasn’t relevant information to him. All he knew was that Elsie was wrapped around him, and he needed to have her now.

“Sebastian!” she whisper-scolded him as he greedily nibbled his way down her neck. “This isn’t — what if someone— ”

“Guess you’ll have to be quiet, then,” he murmured. He traced his tongue along the column of her throat, grinning as he earned a submissive whimper from her. Too easy. She may act proper and modest in public, but he knew exactly how to make her melt for him.

He proceeded to pick up where he had left off, slipping a hand underneath her blouse and pulling her flush against him. He ground his hips against her, letting her know exactly how needy he felt — how much her enthusiasm and deft spell-work had truly affected him.

Fumbling with the buttons on her blouse, he gave a soft chuckle when she let out a gasp at the feel of him. “You’re already so — bloody hell, does dueling practice always make you so— ” A soft moan slipped past her lips as he kissed along the curve of her breast, tugging her blouse lower and pausing to swirl his tongue around her one exposed nipple.

“Only for you,” he smirked and resumed his ministrations as he hiked her skirt up past her thigh, high enough that he could slip his hand underneath. He didn’t bother with teasing — clandestine meetings like this were meant to be fast, hot, and heavy, and Sebastian knew there would be plenty of time to take her slowly later if he wanted to. And oh, would he want to. He pushed her undergarments to the side and ran his fingers along her slit, groaning satisfactorily against her breast when he was easily able to slip a digit inside.

Elsie sighed and threw her head back, grinding herself against his hand as he worked away at her. His thumb circled her clit, and he lifted his head to watch her face — flushed and wanton, lips slightly parted, desperate for him. He curled his fingers inside of her and grinned as she responded by bucking her hips roughly and digging her nails into his biceps.

“That’s it, my lovely girl,” he said softly, leaning forward to brush kisses along her neck and jaw. She reached up to thread her fingers in his hair, tugging gently as she held on tightly while the rest of her body turned to jelly under his touch. “So beautiful.”

He used his other hand to free himself from his trousers and stroked his already thick and throbbing erection — if they were going to make this quick, he wasn’t going to let her cum until it was around his cock. He let out a small laugh as she whined when his fingers ceased their pumping, though he hardly allowed a second to pass before he settled himself between her legs.

“What is it you want?” He asked quietly, not that he was particularly concerned if anyone should hear them. “You want me to fuck you thoroughly, right here?”

“Yes,” she groaned raggedly, “please.”

He grazed his teeth along her earlobe. “Still afraid someone will hear?”

“I don’t care.” She arched against him, pushing the head of his cock into her slick heat. “I — please. I need you. I need you to — to— ”

“To…?” He lazily traced circles along her pulse point with his tongue, teasing himself equally as much as he was teasing her. His self-control was limited when it came to Elsie, but if it meant spending an extra moment to get her to say what he really wanted to hear, he would make himself wait.

“Fuck me.”

Thankfully, she didn’t make him wait long.

At her request, he buried himself to the hilt inside of her, biting back his own whimpers as he did. Elsie was pressed against the covered statue, her hands raised behind her head, both to support herself and to take him deeper. His eyes grazed over her exposed breasts, memorizing each marking and freckle on her before meeting her desperate gaze.

“Fuck— ” he gasped, “never gets — fuck — never get — tired of that— ”

He hooked a hand around her thigh and brought her leg up and around him, angling himself to hit just the right spot as he moved roughly against her, too frenzied already to slow down. He pulled back only slightly to look at her, her eyes heavy-lidded as she bit her lip, trying to hold back even as her moans and sighs slipped out. Fuck, how he loved hearing the little noises she made.

He rolled his hips against hers, and her hands flew up to cover her mouth as she cried out behind them. Sebastian grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head.

“No,” he growled. “I want — need to hear you— ”

“But— ”

His lips crashed against hers messily, silencing any argument she might have had, and he moved steadily against her in long, languid thrusts. He tucked his head in the crook of her neck, breathing her in, one hand still holding her wrists, the other slipping between them right to her core.

“I — don’t — care,” he said, snapping his hips to the rhythm of each word for emphasis. “Let them hear — let them — fuck — let everyone know how — how I— ” He let out another long groan against her shoulder. “— make you come undone.”

It started to become too much for him, his words eliciting as much of a response from himself as it did from Elsie. She reacted emphatically by letting out a cry that echoed in the small chamber they were hidden away in. Sebastian felt a surge of pride that, had anyone been nearby, they would have known that he was the one who was bringing those sounds from her — the only one who could. No one else.

“There’s a — good girl,” he murmured his praises as his fingers circled her center in tandem with his quickening movements, and he nearly laughed with joy as he felt her tighten around him. As desperate as he was to chase his completion, the thrill it gave him to watch her reach her peak was more addicting than that of any spell book in the Restricted Section.

This was tangible and real and perfect. Because she was his, and she wanted him, too.

“Sebastian!” She squealed, and his heart swelled in his chest at the sound of his name on her lips.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he moaned, his words turning breathy as he, too, began to near his climax. “Don’t — don’t hold back— ”

At his command, Elsie arched into him one last time and gave herself completely to the moment of pure ecstasy. Skin slapped against skin, his rhythm turned jagged, and he found himself unable to hold back any longer, groaning as his release tumbled quickly after hers. Their bodies trembled from the aftershocks, her leg still wrapped around his waist, their breaths mingling as they panted against one another.

After a moment, Sebastian tilted his head slightly, pushing the hair away from her sweat-slicked forehead. He smiled down at her, his legs feeling weak as they basked in the afterglow of their union. “Perfect, as always.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him, bliss-faced and grinning. “As perfect as my dueling?”

“Hm…” He hummed as he traced the freckles along her pinkened cheeks with the tip of his nose. “Dunno. Perhaps more practice is in order.”

“Oh, really?” Her grin widened. “I suppose we’ll have to— ”

To their utter misfortune, the door to the storage room burst open. Poor Charlotte Morrison, looking for an extra practice dummy for Crossed Wands, quickly averted her gaze from the still intertwined couple tucked in the corner.

“MERLIN’S HAIRY PLONKER!”

Elsie and Sebastian jolted apart from each other, turning away from the quickly gathering curious stares at Charlotte’s exclamation. Sebastian fumbled with his trousers while Elsie yanked her skirt down and quickly did up the buttons on her shirt.

“What in bloody blazes is going on?” They heard Lucan Brattleby shout from outside the room. “Are those two snogging in there again?!”

“Not just snogging,” Charlotte muttered, pointedly avoiding looking at either of them, “Shagging is more like it.”

Sebastian couldn’t help the smarmy grin that grew on his face at the chorus of grumbled irritation. He wrapped his arm around a still-disheveled, red-faced Elsie and led her out of the room.

“No need to be jealous,” he snarked. “After all, when two people care about each other very much — oof!”

He was cut off by his girlfriend’s aggressive elbow to his ribcage.

“Need I remind you,” Lucan gritted his teeth, “that the Clock Tower is meant for dueling practice. Not — whatever it is you two were doing!”

Sebastian only offered a light smirk at the scandalized glances of the other Crossed Wands members.

"R-right, sorry, Lucan," Elsie muttered, flustered. Sebastian couldn't stop feeling a sense of pride at her disheveled appearance, her usual elegant plait in disarray, her lips swollen, bruises along her neck, and her blouse crumpled and crooked, knowing that he had been the cause of it. "Sebastian was just— "

Lucan held up a hand, cutting her off, his face going red as he tried to ignore whatever it was that he and the group had walked in on. "I have the next match set up, so if you two are quite finished here, I'd like to get started."

"Actually," Sebastian pushed his curled locks from his face as he glanced at Elsie, "we're going to continue our...practice session elsewhere. But thanks for the offer."

He took her hand and ran out of the Clock Tower, his roguish laughter echoing in the corridors at her mortified expression and the cacophony of gagging and groaned complaints far behind them. He expected an earful from her once they were alone, but he wasn't concerned — he knew how to tame her.

Practice session indeed.

[fenricken]

You Keep Slipping From My Grasp 4/7

AO3

Ship: Spirit Halloween

first

prev

The rain fell heavily, washing the blood on the ground away as he stepped toward the woman. She was hunched over, sobbing, clutching her dead son to her chest. She glanced up at him as he approached, mouthing silent prayers.

“What happened here?” he asked, carefully ignoring the dead bodies around.

“They came… for a box my family has guarded for a long time. They killed my husband and my son, and they’ve taken my Catherine… They’ll torture her to make her speak its secrets. Please! Please, help her!”

She reached out a hand to him, imploringly. He crouched down to take it.

“I will.”

————

Danny stood before Clockwork, adjusting his new cowboy hat. Maddie and Jack stood behind Clockwork tinkering on the Fenton Omega Siphoner, and arguing over the aesthetics of the machine.

“I have already sent Dani out to help the Justice League locate Batman’s cape. Hopefully we should receive word on her success soon.” Clockwork began, “In the meantime, we do still need someone to make sure Batman doesn’t rush forward too quickly, lest he build up too much energy before we can stop him. Are you ready?”

“Always ready for bat-sitting duty. I’d hope he’s doing something  a bit calmer this time, but I suppose there’s no chance of that happening.” Danny responded, pointing to his hat.

Clockwork just gave his usual cryptic smile before opening a portal for Danny to step through.

————

“Roooooobin. Rooooooooobin.”

Tim whirled around, searching for the source of the noise.

“Oooh, new fit?” Poltergeist asked, stepping out of the shadows. “Ugly cowl, but I like the rest of it.”

Tim lowered his bo staff at her, readying himself for whatever chaotic ‘game’ she tried to rope him into this time.

“Your city’s on fire. You bats trying out some new defense mechanism or something? Like, you think no rogue would want to take over Gotham if it’s a pile of rubble and ash?” She turned in a circle, surveying the chaos Gotham was under.

“What do you want, Poltergeist?”

“Well, so like, Batman’s stuck in time, right? And-”

“How do you know that?!” Red Robin cut in. He had been struggling to convince everyone that Batman was still alive ever since he found those paintings on the walls of the Batcave. Suddenly, here was Poltergeist who seemed to know something about it, but he couldn’t trust her. She was unpredictable, and running into her could mean leaving with anything as benign yet uncomfortable as soaked socks or as irritating and hindering as being cursed to only speak dead languages for the next 3 days.

And things only got worse if she was tagging along with Klarion. Fortunately, he wasn’t in sight, so it's unlikely he was here with her.

“What do you want?”

She smiled slightly at him. “Oh! I want to get Batman back where he belongs before he dies or explodes everything.”

Explodes everything?

“I mean, Gotham’s got a grumpy quota and since you’re his mini-me I figured you’d start trying to take it on and that’d be so boring.” She raised her pointer fingers to the side of her head, imitating Batman’s cowl and adopted a nasally voice. “I don’t have time to play, Poltergeist. Gotham needs me. I have to go stalk Penguin, and then I need to go brood on my favorite gargoyle.”

“So you want to help me find Batman so that I will… be able to play with you?”

“Well, that, but also if he makes his way to the present day on his own, he’ll have built up enough of something called Omega Energy to make all of reality go ka-blooey, and I actually really like this universe. Top 10, easily.”

Tim held up his hand to stop the oncoming ramble while he compartmentalized.

First, Poltergeist knew Bruce was lost in the time stream and seemed to want to help.

Second, Bruce was making his way back to the present, and by doing so was becoming a living bomb

Third, Poltergeist is a multiversal being???

That last one can probably be ignored for now.

“If I were to let you help me find Batman, where do you suggest we start? I’ve been tracking down artifacts I think he’s left behind  to try and convince the Justice League to help us-”

“Psh. Justice League Shmustice League. My dad and my Nana and Pops are already working on it. We just need to find the cape he was sent back in time with for them. Besides, I can probably convince Wonder Woman to help us get the Justice Dorks to help out once we get the cape if we really need to.”

What.

“What?”

“My grandparents are building a thingy-thing to suck all the Omega Energy out of Batman so he’s not a bomb. My dad’s hanging out with him to keep him from dying or something, and we’re supposed to find his cape so we can safely yoink him out of the time stream.”

“I didn’t know you had parents??? What do they do while you’re here breaking things???”

Poltergeist shrugged “King things I guess. And I only have a dad.”

“King things???”

She rolled her eyes, “Anyway, Dad said he last saw Batman’s cape in the Batcave.”

“You didn’t answer my question, and I’m not taking you to the Batcave.”

Poltergeist landed on her feet, and stared at him with wide eyes. He stared back, caught in her gaze for what felt like an eternity, as he felt invisible fingers trickle up his spine. Whispers started low in his ears, building to a crescendo. It was getting too much to bear, until he broke eye contact and looked away. All of a sudden, it stopped. Tim heaved a big sigh.

“I’m… kinda fighting with the current Batman, so we’ll have to sneak in.”

She punched both arms into the air, “YES!”

Tim turned, flicking his cape and walking off, not waiting to see if she’d follow.

“Poltergeist, when this is over you are going to be answering my questions.”

He heard her blow a raspberry at his back, but kept walking.

————

He followed their trail easily enough, the rain trailing after him. As he reached his destination, men came out to fight him, readying pistols, but he made short work of them easily enough.

With his memory having returned in bits and pieces, it had been easy to fashion metal into bat shapes aerodynamic enough to hit true when thrown, and it was these he’d used to disarm the men.

These memories were useful. The ones of children with blurry faces less so, haunting him as they stayed just out of his complete grasp. A constant reminder of how lost and alone he was.

He steadily made his way to the headquarters, where he figured they were keeping Catherine. He whirled around, sensing someone approaching from behind. It was the man with white hair, again.

“Seems you’ve got this well enough in hand, but I hope you don’t mind if I’d tag along all the same.”

“Why?”

The white haired man smiled slightly. “Will you not believe that I just want to help you?”

He stared, unblinking and quiet. Memories from before had proven this a good method to get more information.

His target stared back, also quiet and unblinking. It wasn’t long before he started shifting, and not much longer before he finally spoke again. Under his breath, almost too quiet to hear, he muttered “Just like Dani, I swear…”

Louder, the man said, “I’ve not known you to be the kind of man to ever be on the wrong side of a cause. Whatever you’re up to, I just want to help.”

He squinted at the man, trying to find any evidence of a lie, but the man just appeared open and honest.

“No guns,” he says, before turning back around and leading the white haired man on towards the headquarters.

As they got closer, they noticed two men standing guard. He deployed smoke bombs to cover their approach, sneaking closer with his companion close behind. They were spotted, but the smoke did its work, scaring the two guards and allowing him and his companion to disappear from view again.

“How you gonna tell me there’s no such things as ghosts now???” One of them whimpered, apparently to his white-haired friend’s delight, as he broke out in giggles.

As the smoke continued to grow, he and his friend snuck around the two, tricking them into fighting each other.

He broke through into the offices in the back. They were unfortunately empty.

“Already gone!” He said, slamming a hand on the desk. His companion stood at the window.

“Not long though, look!”

When he spotted their carriage speeding away through the window, he knew he had to act quickly. He launched himself out of the window, and onto the tarp covering the wagon.

An explosion sounded behind him, but he focused on the task ahead of him. His friend always seemed to find his way back, so he’d have to trust he’d do it again.

The ensuing fight was nothing pretty, little more than mad scrambling as he fought to hold his balance, dodge bullets, and wrestle the men actually in the cart so he could get away with the Catherine and her family’s box.

Looking ahead, he saw they were quickly approaching the dock, and a man who was walking down it. Thinking quickly, he swung his body-weight around, tipping the wagon over and sending everyone sprawling. 

The man who had been at the dock had acted quickly, grabbing the young woman and holding her protectively behind him. He stood up, adding to the obstacles that stood protecting Catherine from her kidnappers. Only 3 men remained. From the snippets he heard as two of them fought, he figures the two fighting must’ve been the masterminds behind the plot and the third still in the distance was a gun-for-hire. Taking out his weapons of choice, he quickly dispatched the two men.

Catherine tugged on his cloak. He turned to face her, seeing that she had opened up the box, and was showing him what was inside.

It was Jack Valor’s journal.

He wanted to reach out–to see what Jack had added since they parted, but the gun-for-hire had caught up to them by then.

“My employers may have been dealt with, but I still have a reputation to uphold. Draw.”

He stood up straight, reaching for more of his weapon of choice. Over the shoulder of the gun-for-hire, he saw another man approaching quickly, white-haired. His friend.

A loud bang echoed, and he felt pain in his side. He stumbled, too close to the edge of the dock, and as he fell over he heard one last cry of ‘BAT–’.

And everything went dark.

————

Shit.

Shit. Shit. SHIT.

As if Batman stumbling towards the present through who-knows-when wasn’t bad enough, now he’s SHOT???

Danny quickly ripped a portal back to Clockwork’s lair.

“Please tell me you’ve almost got the machine ready.” Danny said after confirming his parents were in the room.

“Almost! Just one problem, sweetie…” His mom said, looking over at her husband so he’d finish.

“Batman needs to die. Or at least be very close to death!” Jack said, ending with a laugh.

“Basically, we can get this machine to suck out the Omega Energy, but it’s tightly bonded with Batman’s life energy, so it’s extremely risky unless we can find a way to diminish his life energy.”

Danny groaned, putting his face in his hands. “It’s just one thing after another! He’s just been shot. Would that bring him close enough?”

His dad tilted his head back and forth, considering. “Likely not, unless he was in a pretty bad way. In any case, we asked Sam and Tucker to take a look into it!”

“We’ve already found something, actually.” Sam said, having entered the room. Tucker followed behind her.

“There’s an herb that I was able to locate, which should slow his heart down to extreme levels, to the point his heartbeat would be pretty undetectable. Only problem is that his heart would have to be jump-started afterward by a great shock.”

“Clockwork let me take a closer look at his monitors into Batman’s original time and place, and I was able to determine that they have defibrillator technology that can administer an electrical shock needed to get his heart pumping again, as well as adrenaline injections in case we’d need the extra boost.” Tucker continued.

Maddie clapped her hands together. “Excellent! If we can get the Justice League to set up the anchor point on the Watchtower, we can pull Batman to that point and perform everything there! It’d probably work best to do it in his original time as well, to avoid any potential effects that could crop up from being in the wrong time when we remove the Omega Energy and try to stabilize his system.”

“Great, some good news.” Danny said, tension leaving his body. He turned to Clockwork, who had been quiet thus far. “How’s Dani’s work coming along? Will we be ready to proceed soon?”

“Dani and Red Robin have recovered Batman’s cape, and have moved it to the Watchtower. I believe Dani was able to recruit Wonder Woman’s help into getting the rest of the Justice League in line to receive Batman.”

 ————

“Red Robin! Did you seriously bring Poltergeist into the cave??? What were you thinking?”

Before Tim could reply, Poltergeist raised a hand to point at Dick-as-Batman.

“AAH! It’s the cops! Run!”

Poltergeist placed her hand on Tim’s shoulder, pulling him and the cape through the ceiling of the batcave and up in the open air of Gotham. As Tim caught sight of Wayne Manor his head whipped towards Poltergeist, hoping she wouldn’t make any connections.

She was staring at him, lips pressed together, looking a bit like a frog.

He was quiet, waiting for her to say something.

She blew a breath of air out, letting her lips buzz.

“Listen, you keep my secret, and I won’t tell anyone Batman’s secret id is some rich fruitloop.”

“...What secret?”

She pivoted them somewhere Southeast.

“That sometimes I can be responsible. Let’s go see Wonder Woman.”

AN:

It's definitely been longer than I had planned since the last update, rip.

Not going to lie, this is like my second ever fic and I definitely thought it'd be a bit easier to get back into the habit of writing. Thought I was making it easier on my self by strongly sticking to the plot of an existing story, but I think that's been an obstacle in and of itself.

Always a little worried that the language is a bit stuffy or things aren't being clear.

[beelanddiavolosimp-blog]

I thought of this idea and how it would be funny. Also these are my opinions!

Obey me brothers reaction to you comparing them to a fictional character

Lucifer

He never really did care for Levi's little shows he watched and cared slightly more when you said you were also interested in them. He only knew the basics of some animes thanks to Levi's rambling but still did not care much for it. You were now watching demon Slayer a pretty popular anime when you suddenly pause it. He looks up at you before asking "what's wrong?" You hum in response before smiling "you kinda remind me of him" you say pointing to the screen it was Muzan. After explaining what and who he is Lucifer was not happy only slightly liking the character due to his overwhelming power in the show. "He's like the same type of sexy as you" you say only agitating him more.

Mammon

Alike Lucifer he found no interest in anime as you and Levi do so he didn't bother watching whatever you two put on. He did however perk up when you called a character hot. "Who's the character I bet they aren't as hot as the great Mammon" he gloats. You roll your eyes before pointing at the screen it was Issac(Zach) Foster off of Angels of death. He scoffs "he speaks so vulgur and idiotic! And he's loud and annoying! What do you see in him?" When you suddenly respond "you" he stops dead in his tracks and immediately pouted the rest of the show while Levi laughed at him

Levi

You two spent quite some time together after you revealed you are a nerd alike him with anime. He of course showed you all his favorites and now you're showing him your own. Demon slayer was playing and he was pretty interested. As you watched a certain scene you giggled to yourself. He looks over at you "What's so funny?" He asks you suddenly smile "well just Zenitsu reminds me of you a bit" you state. He didn't do anything at first then he immediately pouts. "You think I'm that much of a loser?" He says and you immediately comfort him "no no just how he is compared to all the other characters I see you in him" he again retaliates "I'm not that loud..." He mumbles.

Satan

He sat beside you on the couch in the living room. He read his book as you watched some anime. He wasn't bothered by it really but wouldn't go out of his way to watch one. You look over at him suddenly then back to the screen. He perks over his book and raises a brow. "What is it?" He asks. You just look at the TV and squint. "Well....it's just you kinda remind me of kageyama...". He looks puzzled and stares at the screen. After watching a few scenes he sighs. "It's because of his temper isn't it?" You nod "it's not as bad as yours but when he's really passionate about something he has this cute look on his face like you do" you say with a smile. He covers his face with the book and mumbles something as you clearly can see him blushing behind it.

Asmos

You and him were gossiping over something he found relevant. You also were watching your show. You stalled in a response when you suddenly see a character. He pouts from the lack of response and attention. He poked your cheek for an answer "what is it?" You look at him and giggle. "Well it's just with how this character acts it makes me think of you" he looks at the screen it was geto from jujutsu kaisen. He raises a brow "I don't look like him?" He states "well it's his cocky attitude of being better than others or well 'monkeys' and he is very beautiful ontop of it" he now was smiling happily "okay now I definitely see it" you just roll your eyes and go back to the conversation.

Beel

You and beel were laying in bed together watching a movie. Belphie was there as well just resting in your lap since he couldn't stay up long for the movie you and beel were watching. You smile and rest your head on beels arm. He looks over at you and notices your smile. You look up at him and realize he wants to know why you are smiling. "Hm well it's just Hercules kinda reminds me of you" you state since you were watching the movie Hercules. He looks at the screen and smiles "you think I'm that capable of greatness?" You just giggle and nod "yeah and other things but you mostly get it" you smile.

Belphie

(This is the one who got me into this idea because these TikToks would not leave me alone 😭)

You share a deep love for horror movies and belphie shares a deep love with you so you currently were cuddling in the attic together as you watch a horror movie. You were close to the end and you suddenly grin at something. He noticed and pokes at your face "what are you smiling at" he huffs. You just shrug "it's just well....he kinda has something similar to you I guess" he looks at you then the movie. You were speaking of brahmas from the movie The Boy. He scrunched his face in confusion "I am no where near that muscular" you shrug "yeah but how possessive and needy he is hits the mark" he pushes your head away and hides in the pillows. "Oh come on I'm just teasing!" You giggle and mess with him more.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Vampire Captures Vampire Hunter to Use as Bloodbag part 34

Warnings: weak human pet, vampire carewhumper, recovery whump, intimidation

What could he ask for that was within reason? This might be his one chance at a favor. One chance to get something nice.

"Is... would a phone call be too much to ask for?" He asked flatly. Of course the answer would be no, so he wasn't surprised when the answer came.

"No," Alex said grimly, "I can't trust you not to call for help." But what he said next was unexpected. "However... I am willing to give you a chance to earn that reward. One phone call. If you are obedient long enough for me to trust you not to do anything stupid during it. And I will supervise, of course."

Mallory's breath hitched. A chance. A chance was all he needed. He had a close friend, a fellow hunter, who must be worried to death after his disappearance -- if she hadn't already assumed him dead. But if there was a chance he could call and tell her he was alive...

He wanted that. Desperately.

"Is there anything more tangible you would wish to possess in the meantime, if you were allowed?" Alex pressed.

Mallory took a minute to think about it. "Blueberries," he muttered sheepishly, embarrassed. "I like blueberries." He expected Alex to laugh at the stupid request, or mock him for it, but the vampire only nodded respectfully.

"Blueberries. Never would have guessed," Alex mused. "Out of everything in the world, you choose Blueberries."

"I used to eat them every morning before going off to hunt vampires," Mallory said defensively. "They're healthy, and my favorite food. I miss having them, okay?!"

Alex raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Calm down, I wasn't meaning to tease. I'll get you your Blueberries when I have a chance. Maybe I'll ask Anisa to order some and have them delivered here. Sound good?”

Mallory eyed him skeptically, wondering if he actually meant it or if it was another way to torment him. But he nodded regardless.

Alex clapped his hands together. "All right then. Get some rest, don't try to murder me, and we can make this work."

Mallory barely managed to keep from scoffing. He would never willingly work with the vampire if there was another way. But if he wanted to survive, he had to appease his captor, so he stayed quiet and kept his bitter thoughts to himself, closing his eyes and drifting off.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy @floral-comet-whump

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @nevermore-ramblings

[finisnihil]

Do you have any jingluo rambles or headcanons :3

I'd like to know more ☺️

Oh hi thanks for the ask! I don't typically talk about my more fanon ideas because I usually like to do analysis/theories of the canon material, so most of the time I write my headcanons and stuff into my fics or whatnot but! I'm totally happy to talk about some of them!

-More so a theory I'll die on the hill of but I do think Luocha is an Emanator, I have a post explaining my evidence here! It's not the most fleshed out because it was one of my first posts on here but yeah!

-One of my big Luocha headcanons is the flowers blooming out of his hair according to his emotions. He's considered an Abomination of Yaoshi, a term only really used for Mara-struck, and the Mara-struck typically have mutations of like ginkgo brances/leaves growing from their bodies. I think it'd make sense if Luocha also displayed Mara symptoms in his own weird way!

-I like to think Luocha can kinda "eat/digest" Mara. To me, Mara reads like a weird combination of rabies and chronic wasting disease. Vultures are a favorite bird of mine and they have extremely strong stomach acid, strong enough to digest rabies. They help manage the spread of rabies because of this and I can see Luocha's body functioning a similar way with Mara. Something percieved as scary or gross (Emanator of the Abundance/a scavenger that eats predominantly dead animals) but being essential to the managing of a healthy ecosystem because they perform a thankless task.

-Jing Yuan has crows feet. Even though the Xianzhou people don't really age past a certain point and their bodies stay that way no matter what (see: Dan Shu and her explanation of disabilities on the Xianzhou which is incredibly interesting) he is 721-ish years old and he smiles a lot. I think it'd be sweet to see evidence of that, that despite everything he still can smile so much it leaves little lines of joys in his face.

-Jing Yuan to me is more of an acts of service guy (His being General shows his love for the Luofu because taking care of its people is the ultimate act of service). I think Jingliu was also more of an acts of service person because to her fighting was all she lived for, for a while, so her showing love is wielding her sword for somebody (like wielding it against Baiheng to free her). I think that's a way Jing Yuan kinda embodies her yaknow? As for Luocha, he's more a quality time person. He's a traveler who doesn't really have anywhere permanent to call home so he likes to soak up as much time with the people he loves as he can before he's forced to move on again. He also likes receiving gifts because they're momentos of those people he can carry with him.

-I think Luocha would like to garden but he's never had a permanent place to do so, so when they get together he just takes over Jing Yuan's garden (which is suffering due to Jing Yuan's busy schedule) and rules it with an iron fist. The neighbors are jealous.

-I saw this post propose that Jing Yuan might be half Foxian and I really love that idea so that's something I like to chew on

-Both Luocha and Jing Yuan are strategic people and Luocha is one of the few people who have successfully outsmarted Jing Yuan so I imagine their enrichment is playing strategic games together. Western chess (my beloved), General's chess, Go, etc. I imagine Luocha is better at western chess and Jing Yuan at Go and General's chess, simply bc those were the games they were raised with.

-Luocha runs cold and Jing Yuan runs hot. Adding to that, if Luocha is an Emanator, he's probably stuck in this pseudo-death limbo so I imagine he's cooler to the touch. Meanwhile, Jing Yuan is very alive and pretty active, therefore warmer to the touch. Jing Yuan likes to nap resting on Luocha because it's like having a cool pillow and Luocha likes it because Warm. He would also like to tease Jing Yuan by putting his cold hands on the back of his neck or something and make Jing Yuan jump due to not expecting it.

-Being General is a demanding and exhausting job. I can imagine Jing Yuan doesn't really spend a lot of time on self-care in that aspect. He has a planet-ship to run after all so he probably doesn't care too much about what shampoo or soap he uses. Luocha is appalled and uses his connections as a merchant to acquire quality stuff (some of which is better for foxian hair types) to systematically switch out when Jing Yuan isn't paying attention. Jing Yuan obviously notices but he doesn't particularly care, later noticing his skin is less dry and his hair is way softer and healthier.

-Jing Yuan can cook but it's a 50/50 on if it actually ends up eatable. His job can be tiring and I imagine sometimes he's just too dead tired to stay awake and the food burns or whatever. After him and Luocha get together, Luocha will cook or he'll check on the food for him.

-I've been pinging around the idea of Jing Yuan having narcolepsy

[stabbyfoxandrew]

no wipw tomorrow

sorry guys. i never even started on last week's (because Rascal's favorite spot to nap was right behind my desk chair and I simply couldn't make him move from his spot) and I just don't care about anything right now

thank you to everyone who's sent me love and asks and messages. you guys truly are the greatest friends i've ever had. i promise i'll answer as soon as i can.

(rambling diaerie entry below. you have been warned)

lately i have been using 4tw to document Rascal things. memories of him that i love, things i will miss about him, the final days where i was watching over him 24/7. i have a log of times i helped him up. this document is over 3000 words right now. i have too many precious precious memories and my memory is not very good (as you all know) so i am terrified i will forget things about him. i can't let that happen. so yeah.

jess and i watched dead boy detectives this weekend for a distraction. it was a very good show. i get the hype now. wish it hadn't been cancelled. uh...

oh. jess and me made Rascal peanut butter fudge on Friday evening. he was... he was very tired but he still raised his head up to smell for it. and then bit me gently when i gave it to him.

i took a video of him licking peanut butter off the spatula. and i also took a video of him drinking his water because he always drank water so gently. he licked so gently. but he would bite so hard sometimes. in a partially blind grumpy old man way. :')

i wish he was here to bite my fingers again. TwT i wish i had a video of him walking in the kitchen. his claws tapping on the linoleum is music i haven't heard in over a week and that i will never hear again.

on Sunday morning Jess and i were talking about the things we'd miss and i mentioned how he hadn't "talked" in a long time. and then a little later, he did a loud deep AWOOOO that our parents heard from the other end of the house. it was so beautiful. :(

i tried to make salt dough paw prints yesterday before we left. but he was really not in the mood to be bothered (which i understand completely but i had to try i needed to have this little thing from him) and they didn't turn out great. i dreamt last night i broke one and it devastated me.

uhhh god this got long. i'm not doing the super greatest or anything but i'm trying to be okay. to all my friends who were worried, i ate yesterday. for the first time in six years i carried only one plate to my room. i cried.

i didn't cry when i ate this afternoon but it was a near thing. i kept almost tearing off a piece of my roll to give Rascal (he loved bread so much. bread and sweets were his favorites) but then i'd remember.

anyway. just an update for you all. sorry for skipping wipw but an anon gave me permission and i appreciated it a lot thank you anon (i am being completely serious). if i attempted to work on anything i'm sure they would all turn out super angsty and i don't want to fuck up our current storylines. i'm not sure when i will start wipw again to be honest.

my ocd made me do it to keep Rascal safe (most of my ocd related Things were to keep Rascal safe) and now they're... well not moot but sort of. it's kind of fucking me up to think that no matter how Good i was, it didn't matter. he's still dead. like it's shaken my world view? which is so stupid but hey i can't afford therapy so... y'all have to listen to this insanity. actually you don't i will slap a read more at the top to spare you. just had to get some feelings out and i am not quite ready to talk one on one.

but i love you. i love you all so so much. please god kiss your dog for me. if you don't have a dog, kiss your cat. and if you don't have a cat give your turtle, rat, rabbit, spider, lizard, bird, etc a smooch instead.

okay i'll shut up now. thank you for reading

<3 aerie

[anonymoosen]

Ok i watched gravity falls again after 4 years and-

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

SPOILERS OF THE VERYYY LAST EPISODE BELOW THE CUT BECAUSE I WANNA RAMBLE ON ABOUT THIS SHOW WITH MY GIBBERISH (its not a professional analysis or anything its just me being not normal about this beautiful show as a silly fan)

HE DID THE GAY HAND THING CJDJFKDKDD

guys i love them so much did you know that like guys guys guysydhfdjjdjjddj their sibling dynamic means the multiverse to me and i abaolutely adore them i wanna adopt them now what and i also want a friendship like this too mann aaaaaaaaa

Ford: *stares off into the distance with that one serious anime face with his glasses reflecting light*

THEYRE SO CUTEEEE AND SO COOL AND I LOVE THE TWINS SO MUCH RAAAHHH

STOP FLIRTING WITH HIM YOU DORITO KFDKDKDKDKD (i love watching this with the context of billford)

Ok bill i gotta admit you have some rizz right there

……

*raises the dead to make Filbrick alive again just to explode him into smithereens for making such a beautiful old man have his insecurities stemming from clear favoritism, neglect as well as unreasonable criticism as a mere 12 year old*

YEAA MAN YOU FELL FOR A CLEAR RED FLAG LIKE HE MADE YOU THROW OUT AN AXOLOTL :(((

Really love the detail of “Stanley” having six fingers right here

MDKDKDKDDJ THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SAD MOMENT BUT THIS MADE MY SAD TEARS INTO TEARS OF LAUGHTER MAN I LOVE THIS SHOW SO MUCH IT MADE MY EMOTIONS GO ON A ROLLERCOASTER

Everything stays, but it still changes…

Me watching the show end again:

AAAAAAAAA ILL MISS THOSE ICONIC TWINS SO MUCH

[noodle-made-a-mistake]

A short list of things that bother me about the Magisterium canon:

Forgive me in advance for rambling, I have to get these thoughts out of my brain lmao (also it's been a couple years so correct me if I'm wrong! (I really hope I’m wrong on some of these :’) )) Spoilers ahead obviously!

● The lack of Calron :(

● Not taking the opportunity to develop Tamara's character and keeping her static until she's randomly just different. Strong female characters aren't just skilled and perfect until their one flaw (usually it's having feelings like any other human being) is revealed shockingly (that's just sloppy characterization), they should be crucial to the plot and not overlooked in favor of developing other characters (from what I remember she literally was my favorite while reading the series until she just got annoying (??) after a while, of course that could just be because the story is told through Call's perspective but still)

● The entire school system that I need more info on bc it sounds so unthought out and not like something that has existed for hundreds of years

● The forceful nature of making people serve as masters?? That makes no sense? Like, “Congratulations on not dying during your schooling or in the war(s), your prize is forced labor 👍.”

● Also THE COLLEGIUM WAS MENTIONED AND NEVER ELABORATED UPON

● TGT. Least favorite book. Get out. Tgt truthers how do you do it??

● The Maugris plot twist. It destroys the meaning behind the past four books. It's just so uncalled for and frankly just sloppy ig? I love the idea in a way, but only if it's foreshadowed from the beginning. Also I'm too attached to the complicated dynamic of Alastair raising his possible ex-bestie for it to end up like that

● The fact that the iron trio is out of school for half the series, I'd like to know what's normal, y'know??

● THE LACK OF ELABORATION ABOUT THE FIRST GEN I WANT TO KNOW MORE I HAVE TO KNOW MORE

● They did my man Constantine especially wrong, give him some ✨️character✨️ aside from E V I L and problematic (trademark) and charming (???)

● AND ALASTAIR GOD TELL ME MORE?? He's characterized as distant and obviously traumatized with his hate of his magic involved past but I just need to know what that past was like. Like who was he before his dead wife syndrome?? Idk but I'd of liked any excuse to know more about it just so I can understand him more??

● Please give me a single character trait of Declan's?? Like he was mentioned a handful of times and that's all we got. He was just some guy and I am hating it !!

● And Sarah. Like. She was a mom and liked peace as a concept but she also made a cool ass knife. That's a lot of things left up for interpretation. And I know Call wasn’t allowed to ask questions for plot reasons but god i wish he had more information about his own dead mother for Christ's sake

● Also other than a victim, who was Jericho? I need to know who this kid who drew scribbles in the margins of his very important journal while writing about how he was slowly being killed was. What was his relationship really like with his brother if he was so scared to say that he was dying or what gave him the impression that he didn't care?? It's fascinating and I need him under a microscope immediately

● Also the lack of queer representation until the last two books. AND THEN IT WASN'T EVEN ANY OF OUR MAIN CAST. Literally the saddest L ever :(

● AND AARON WAS NEVER CONFIRMED QUEER LIKE WHAT THE FUCK JUST L O O K AT HIS CHARACTER AND INFACT ALL OF OUR CORE CAST IS AT LEAST BI LIKE C O M E O N (ik they're like kids but even I knew I was not straight when I was like 11 and i lived in the most conservative non-LGBTQ-friendly town known to man)

● Low key, callmara was so bad, like I love them but not the way it happened, horrible set up. Tamara deserved so much better and to not have her entire character destroyed by becoming a love interest. I wish they thought about her as an independent character instead of the means to implement a romantic subplot in tgt, they did so good in the first books with that

● Also there's no elaboration on what chaos is. It's the mystical 5th element. Wow! Let's go girl, give us nothing! You'd think that if Makaris were so exceptionally rare and special that we'd get some explanation on how they come to be and what it is exactly that they can control but we're just left to assume it's the special "chosen one" type of thing. Idk it bothers me for some reason :/

That's just off the top of my head and it's been years since I read the series all the way through (I should do a reread soon). For the most part I adore this funky series and I hate to bash it but I felt the need to ramble about it's shortcomings because I'm not crazy, right?? It had so much potential! Anyway, I'm sort of glad for the blanks in the story despite complaining about them because it leaves room for fics and fan interpretations that I always love to see, but on the other hand, I'd like for the story to feel finished and not like a last minute science fair project.

Thanks for sticking around for my late night rambling lmao

[ceph-the-ghost-writer]

Get To Know Your Moots Writeblr Interview

Tagged by @ink-flavored (here) to do this event created by @davycoquette (question template here)! Thanks to both of you.

To anyone seeing this, consider yourself tagged in addition to @sunset-a-story @touloserlautrec @sarahlizziewrites @k--havok @thatndginger @oliolioxenfreewrites @the-scaredy-crow @words-after-midnight @space-writes @vacantgodling @jezifster @ghostpoetics @lacependragon @xenascribbles @afoolandathief @drawnecromancy @the-ace-of-wrath

[ID: A thin border divider showing a sliver of a golden sky streaked by rain clouds above a dark blue sea.]

ON THE TUMBLR WRITING COMMUNITY

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr?

Since, like, 2020? Somewhere thereabouts.

What led you to create it?

Wanting to connect with writers/readers outside of Ao3 (it's just not set up for conversations outside of comment threads). And wanting to raise my characters up like baby Simba at the start of The Lion King for more of the Internet to behold.

What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community?

It's about the connection. 🤌 Plenty of writing communities, both on and offline, focus on critique or getting something published. Which can be great, if it's what you're after. But I think having others who genuinely cheer you on and let you ramble is just as important to helping writers through the often messy process of creating.

What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you?

I can be a bit shy or slow to interact, but once I'm invited in I'll haunt follow your blog or writing even if I'm not constantly saying anything.

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?

People talking about what they love, in published work and with writeblr stuff. A lot of the time I read or watch something because of the way others talk about it. That includes your own writing!

What tips/advice do you have for someone who made a Writeblr today?

Be patient, manage your expectations, and focus on having some fun. There's no algorithm here and even less clout. Writers can and do build audiences on Tumblr, but it's uniquely suited to allow us to experiment and be weird too.

WIP IT GOOD

Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

I'm rewriting Apophenia, a novel about a supernatural researcher enduring the worst assignment of his life. A lot of my other projects are set in the same world.

How long have you been working on them?

Over five years now, I think! I'm slow.

Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started?

The Chocolate Box event on Ao3! The prompt was for a human captured by a vampire, but I wound up creating an entire world and series. Oops.

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

If I'm not thinking about these characters it's only because I'm dead.

When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say?

Gay vampire trash.

What do you want to say (if it’s different from what you do say)?

I write about characters who struggle towards community, compassion, and being better people despite a) their flaws, and b) the world burning down around them. I hope that it gives me the courage to continue doing the same.

LET’S ROTATE BLORBOS

Name any characters you created.

I'll direct you to some mood boards/intros even: Isaac Soto Márquez, Renato Faria Dimas, Dorian St-Ange, Kinslayer, Elfy Bosques-Rodriguez, Ankaris the Memory Salesman, Fior the Master Transcriber, Vess the Collector. And here's a comic sans presentation for Apophenia.

Who’s the most unhinged?

Outwardly? Any of my necromancers. They come in a wide variety of styles, from Motley sewing patches of skin onto itself, to Acacius of Antioch who drapes his bejeweled and gilded bones in black veils. Each also has an, um, unique view of (un)life, the body, and ethics. Views which could come across as unhinged.

Who comes the most naturally for you to write?

At this point Isaac Soto, the protagonist of Apophenia. We do share a few similarities, but mostly I've just been writing him for years now.

Do you ever cringe at them?

At my characters or their antics? I wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

How much control do you feel you have over your characters?

They do frequently just spring ideas and actions on me, but I have the ultimate say in what makes it onto the page. Same with having the power/responsibility of changing something I realize isn't working, is insensitive, etc.

Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters?

Always and forever, yes. 💜 Send me asks, comment in the tags or on Ao3, shriek in reblogs, replies, or a dm. It doesn't matter how--I love whenever someone is curious or interested enough to ask something about my fictional creations.

ON WRITEBLR ENGAGEMENT

What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account?

Sometimes it's based on vibes, sometimes I really like the sound of their stories. I appreciate a sense of whimsy and/or humor especially. And someone who likes spooky as well as fantasy stuff.

What makes you decide against following?

Two things: A) Their intro already has, like, 80+ notes (though the vibe/story will override this), and B) lots of posts hating on things/trends/people. I don't mean venting or sometimes ranting, which is everyone's right. I mean someone's whole brand is ridicule or just immediately seeing the bad in everything. Which is still their right. It's also mine to avoid it, and I think this is mutually beneficial. Thankfully, though, this experience has been very rare for me on writeblr.

Do you interact with non-mutuals often?

I try to. I'll reblog, read, comment, take an open tag, whatever when I have the energy. I mean, how else do writers get readers? It takes people who might not know you personally talking about your work a lot of the time.

Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle?

I am absorbing the essence of your blorbos as we speak, making them an eternal part of me.

[lady-harrowhark]

Would you mind. Explaining what the heck the locked tomb (is this the name?) is about. You post a lot of it and I know ✨ nothing ✨ but it sounds kinda interesting??? Into dumping is ok if you feel like lol

I would LOVE to explain what The Locked Tomb is and you DID get the name right and it IS interesting!

So, it's a book series written by Tamsyn Muir and three of the anticipated four books have been released so far. I say "anticipated four books" because it was originally a trilogy but then the last book was split up. I don't think any of us would mind if that happened again and it turned into a five book series. But I digress.

These books are notoriously hard to describe because they sort of encompass or transcend genres. It's a sci-fi fantasty horror murder mystery romcom situation. Plus, there's a LOT going on - I've often described them as an "intellectual escape room." There's so much happening that you don't realize is happening until it all comes together. Going back to the beginning after you've finished them is an entirely different experience than your first read because you can see how it was all laid out from the start - sometimes even in plain sight - and things take on completely different meanings. Also, each book is very different from the others. I adore all of these qualities.

So here's the gist of the premise for the first book:

Gideon Nav, orphan of mysterious origins, has been raised on the Ninth House as an indentured servant and trained as a swordswoman. The Ninth House has become isolated from the rest of the empire and its very existence is threatened by the dwindling population and lack of resources. Gideon is one of only two survivors of her generation, the other children having succumbed to a lethal illness when she was an infant. The other survivor is Harrowhark Nonagesimus, the Reverend Daughter of the Ninth, and the two have been at each other's throats their entire lives. Harrow's parents' deaths have been hidden from the rest of the Ninth (save for Gideon and a few of the Reverend Family's attendants) and Harrow has been secretly ruling in their stead for the past seven years, doing her best to keep the Ninth from falling into ruin. Harrow is a prodigious necromancer, specializing in working with bones. The Ninth receives a message from the Emperor requesting that each House send their heir and cavalier primary (a.k.a swordsman/bodyguard) to his home at the First House, where they are to attempt to piece together the process to becoming a Lyctor, one of his immortal Saints. Unfortunately, Harrow's cavalier has skipped town. Gideon begrudgingly accepts a deal meaning that she will pose as Harrow's cavalier in exchange for freedom from servitude. Upon arriving at the First House, the two meet the other Houses' heirs and their cavaliers and are informed that they will have to figure out the secret to Lyctorhood on their own, and that there will absolutely no communication with the outside empire. It's not long before someone turns up dead... and then another...

What immediately hooked me on the first book was the voice and tone; Gideon is a delightfully snarky narrator. Despite the humor, these books do not pull any punches with regard to emotional depth. Love and grief are at the center of everything these books do, circled by sacrifice and duty and gender and colonialism and religion.

This review is actually one of my favorite things to send to people to pitch them the books. It does a fantastic job of conveying both the premise and the tone of Gideon the Ninth. I also wrote a "pitch your fandom" piece that @wilfriede recorded and recently released. You can find both the audio and the transcript at this link.

I hope that gives you a sense of the series, and thank you for giving me the opportunity to ramble about the series that permanently altered my brain chemistry! If you ever get around to reading them, I would love to hear your thoughts :)

[shannonsketches]

I was reading this post about Frieza but I didn't want to spam OPs notes with my rambling but Yes yes yessssss same hat same hat!!!

I described Vegeta to my friend as Frieza's favorite dog who spends his career being so unwittingly smug of how well he's learned to hold his own leash --

He's subconsciously learned the How To's of Power from Frieza's detachment, isolation, and precise self-control (knowing a saiyan's strength is in his rage while ignoring that rage comes from a place of emotional investment).

The manga/Toriyama's version of their relationship differs slightly from Toei's EU, largely in the way that Vegeta was being raised by his own father to usurp Frieza at some point, and take his place as ruler of the universe. It didn't start with Frieza, for Vegeta, but Frieza certainly compounded it. By all accounts, Vegeta seemed to enjoy his work, and was very proud of how good at it he was. But pride means as long as you're working for someone else, you're not good enough. And restoring Saiyans to the top of the food chain seemed to be King V's ultimate goal, vicariously through his record-breaking son.

But this seemed to be the goal of both their biological fathers, and what I imagine Frieza liked about Vegeta. It's also something I think Vegeta liked about Frieza. Relating to someone you have several plans to kill, in some quietly fucked up way to be less alone.

But Frieza wasn't only afraid of super saiyans! He was also afraid of what a group of powerful saiyans were capable of, which invites noting that he told Vegeta it was cowardly to rely on others, and that it was proof of ones weakness, while knowing Saiyans were historically deployed in groups. Teaching Vegeta to hang back while his underlings -- not peers, not friends -- did the work, until he -- the special one, like Frieza -- had to step in and solve the problems they weren't strong enough to handle.

Because those were weak Saiyans, who needed teammates. Not like Vegeta. Vegeta was a special Saiyan, who could do it all by himself. Both Frieza and King Vegeta told him so.

Which is probably what King Cold taught Frieza, too.

Part of the reason I think Frieza is/was headed for a redemption arc in Toriyama's version of the story (the manga/recent movies) is because Vegeta and Frieza are largely the same shape in terms of archetypes and story paths -- both born into what are essentially mafia families, both had callous fathers who valued their power over their person, both given no choice in their careers, both powerful enough to be surrounded by sycophants, both smart enough to know better than to call anyone a friend.

The major difference is that Vegeta was suddenly and completely removed from that environment and forced to adapt to a newer (softer) one in order to get his rematch with Goku, and Frieza immediately returned to his army to work toward his rematch with Goku. Vegeta didn't have a home to go back to, and Frieza did. Vegeta was forced to grow and change, and Frieza wasn't. Vegeta was unceremoniously pushed out of his self-isolation (and comfort zone), and Frieza was plucked up and happily curled right back into it.

His change is on a much slower track, but he's still experiencing the same furious denial and obsession with being better than the enigma called Goku that Vegeta did. I definitely agree that Vegeta was scared, and we're seeing that fear in Frieza too. This notion that your value lies wholly in your power -- a theory both King Vegeta and King Cold telegraphed to their children, and one Vegeta continued to witness and embrace while working for Frieza -- is deeply embedded.

It took Vegeta over a decade to start accepting it wasn't true, surrounded by people who kept choosing him even when he failed and rebelled and did all the things he should've been condemned to death for, by Frieza Force standards. Frieza was dead all that time, and when he came back he was pulled right back into the waiting arms of his old toxic environment, and even commented that he noticed they didn't want him back until his power was useful to them.

In the anime/toei versions it seems like the Saiyans are enslaved, but in the manga/toriyama version the Saiyans are absorbed into his empire, effectively just put under new management but still able to keep their culture and homes and monarch, the monarch just had a new boss (who also had a boss, more or less, which was beerus). So in the manga/Toriyama versions of the writing, it seems like the only part of Vegeta's job he didn't genuinely enjoy was the fact that he had to do it for someone else.

The biggest issue he has, at first, with learning what Freeza did was that he'd been lied to and used, knowing his rebellion would've come sooner if he'd known -- and that's humiliating. By the time he's five, he's already numb to the experience of war and death. He's already got his own command, and Saiyans rarely all make it back. By the time the truth is revealed to him, he doesn't care about his parents or his comrades. He cares that he, Vegeta, the Special Saiyan, was stupid enough to fall for a lie.

He feels genuine fear for the first time in his life when he faces Frieza's final form and realizes, that's it. There's no getting stronger. There's no next time.

He chose to brag about tearing up that luxury leash, and it was a gamble he lost. The unraveling of that sympathy and compassion hits him like a truck when he's dying and suddenly it's Very Real that there's no one left to remember him or his planet or his people or care about what happened to them or do anything about it (an important and poetic justice -- an exercise in empathy -- for all the peoples he gladly did it to (and, by his own admission, would have with or without Frieza)). He's modeled his life after his father, and after Frieza. He has no friends. He's not strong enough to be valuable anymore, not with Goku around. Nobody is going to wish him back. Nobody is going to miss him at all.

So Vegeta gets killed while he's having a fight-or-freeze panic attack, in which he freezes, and it's a thing that keeps happening to him from that point on, for the rest of Z, and throughout Super. The most embarrassing kind of proof that he feels safer in the company he kept on Namek, and actively recovering from the life he led before.

Frieza, ironically, doesn't have the freeze response. Frieza's panic is frantic and manic because, like Vegeta, nobody is going to miss him at all. He doesn't have any noble cause to hold onto like Vegeta did -- the one that's his own fault. He's set up all of the dominoes that are falling on him, and he's got nowhere to run except back to the place that taught him his only reason for being is his power, and -- just like Vegeta did -- he's spiraling because Goku showed up and made it a game. There's nobody safe for Frieza, except -- just like Vegeta -- in the company of those same people. People who should, by all accounts, want him as dead as anyone.

idk where i'm going with this, I just really enjoy their parallels and I am very intrigued by Frieza's arc lately.

I can't decide if I want Vegeta to destroy him or lose the battle and win the war with some familiar banter like they had in Res F but painful and recognizing himself in Frieza (or vice versa, rather) and give Frieza a whole mental break about how the two of them are probably the only people in the universe who will ever really Genuinely Understand each other, for the twisted humor it is.

I don't want Vegeta to forgive Frieza, I don't think that's the answer to all stories like this, even when the themes are about love and forgiveness I don't even think he's particularly forgiven Buu yet, tbh. I think he'd have to be dying again to chat like that, the way Vegeta does when he's about to die. But I think it could be a really good scene, and I think it would fuck Frieza up to be offered something of a broken olive branch just to lose it again because he's already killed it.

Maybe they're out of senzu beans. Maybe he's killed Dende already. No healing. No dragon balls. All the boys are down. Vegeta's wound is fatal. Frieza's won, but Vegeta's getting that last laugh in by being just a little nostalgic. A little sentimental in reflecting on their history. Give Frieza that nice familiar panic Vegeta knew so well; That little alarm bell that tells him he's got nothing left to strive for and no one left to know him. Let Frieza shatter so he can have some space to grow.

And the thing is, it's a gamble he's already won. Geets doesn't care if Frieza changes or not. He's dying, and there's no telling whether or not Bulma will figure something out before he's reincarnated. Do better or don't, this is fully not his problem anymore. xoxo!

[goodomensjail]

GOOD OMENS SPOILERS BELOW if you reblog it TAG IT DAMMIT. Entire Job Sequence to the Best of my inebriated (thank you Bulleit Bourbon for sponsoring) memory:

It was not entirely clear at the  Brooklyn screening when episode 1 ended; there were no end credits but i think its fairly obvious that Job flashback is the cold open of Episode 2 because the entire audience was a bit surprised when Opening Credits played again right after the first Job scene. 

Also note that the Job story is INTERCUT at apparently key moments of the main/present day plot, but it will take a second viewing for me to see exactly what they were going for/getting at. So HERE i am going to try and write the Job minisode IN ORDER without the cuts to present day because it will help my memory. 

We open on Bearded (yes that bearded) Crowley about to sacrifice a herd of goats. (note that none of the dialogue is exact, even if i put it in quotes, its just what i can recall; the dialogue throughout is delightful and funny and theres no way i can remember it all nor would it be worth it without the performances). 

Aziraphale appears in a golden light from the sky in a “stay thy hand, demon!” type way, dramatic and biblical, before he realizes “o its just you Crawley”; Aziraphale says they have not seen one another since “the flood”. 

Crowley shows Aziraphale he has “a permit” to torment Job, God’s favorite human, because Satan and God have a bet to see if Job will curse God. Aziraphale is not happy. He takes the permit to heaven to show the Archangels who delightedly tell him YES, God is allowing blameless and good Job to be tormented by demons in a bet with Satan, but ITS OKAY because of course God will win the bet and reward Job three fold!

Aziraphale is at first glad, then stunned to hear that heaven does NOT intend to raise Job’s children from the dead, however. Job’s wife Sitis will have 7 NEW CHILDREN! Yay! (this is cute as well because Aziraphale appears to be the only angel who understands human birth and that maybe Sitis doesn't want to be pregnant and give birth 7 more times? as a mom with natural births i appreciate this, neil gaiman. the archangels are oblivious to this... they just think thats what humans do: they breed and multiply). 

As Crowley in stomping through Job’s courtyard to find his three children, Aziraphale appears to reason with him. Aziraphale appeals to knowing that Crowley doesn't want to harm Job’s children because he knew him as an Angel, to which Crowley is not impressed; he is not an angel anymore. So instead, Aziraphale pivots to “i know you” and references the flood and how Crowley was shocked that God intended to kill the children. Crowley tells Aziraphale, “you do not know me”. 

And then the pigeons in the courtyard start baa-ing. Aziraphale waves his hand and the pigeons transform into a herd of goats....Crowley didn't kill them at all, he hid them away. Aziraphale looks at Crowley smugly. 

They meet the three children of Job, Ty Tennant plays a flirtatious Ennon who comes on a bit to Aziraphale. Aziraphale explains they are in danger, but the kids are not impressed because “don't you know our father? Job? he is God’s favorite”. Crowley transports all of them to the basement while a storm rages and destroys the home above; Aziraphale realizes Crowley always intended to get to the kids first and protect them from the destruction. 

While they wait out the storm, Crowley tempts Aziraphale into eating human food for the first time. Aziraphale resists at first, but we then cut to him DIGGIN IN FORACIOUSLY to some meat, while a smiling Crowley lounges nearby watching him. The kids are annoying them both, and at some point Crowley turns them all into three small lizards. The two discuss how Crowley is not really bad and doesnt really listen to hell, and Aziraphale remarks it must be lonely living as Crowley does. Crowley tell him “not really”

God wins the bet, and give some rambling messages to Job as a prophet (which he doesn't understand or appreciate, he and Sitis just want to know where the children are). The angels, with Aziraphale in tow, arrive to announce Job will be rewarded with three times wealth, and NEW CHILDREN! Job and Sitis are horrified. 

Crowley bursts in; none of the angels recognize him, he claims to be a human cobbler (its a pun for some ancient city dont worry about it) and Aziraphale jumps in to call him DOCTOR, a famous obstetrician who delivers babies. The archangels have no idea where babies come from... Aziraphale flatters Gabriel by saying well YOU were there when Eve was “born” youve seen it before. 

Crowley understand the cue, and pretends to “deliver” Job and Sitis’ new children by having Sitis pull three ribs out of Job (the animal ribs from the meat Aziraphale was eating) and transforms them into three children (the lizards hidden in Jobs robes turn into his three children).

Michael is suspicious because arent humans supposed to have “babies”, but Aziraphale cues Gabriel to tell them about Eve being fully grown. The kids are confused and almost give away the bit, but Job and Sitis play along. Gabriel turns to Aziraphale and point blank asks : “Are these their old children?” to which a PAINED Aziraphale after a look to Crowley LIES to the angels and says “no these are their new children”

We cut to Aziraphale from afar and behind (the ocean and rock shot) and Crowley comes to join him. Aziraphale is crying. (DIALOGUE THAT FOLLOWS IS NO ACCURATE ITS THE GIST)

A: “Im ready for you to take me”

C:”Take you where?” or “Where are we going” something to that effect, he is amused in a bittersweet way

A: “I lied to the archangels and foiled the plans of God. Im ready to go to hell with you”

C: amused in such a kind way, tells him something to the effect of “Youre not going to hell. I wont tell if you wont”

A: sitting on the rock next to Crowley, still teary, “How can i keep on obeying heaven?”

C: “You will take it as far as you can take it, and youll do it your way when you need”

A: “You said it wasnt lonely”

C: “I’m a demon. I lied”

Gorgeous scene of them sitting together on the rock and cut to black