#that makes it sound like a bad thing but it's... not? not entirely

[nochepsicodelica]

The door to your shared bedroom creaks open, and Toji is greeted by the sight of you sleeping. It's five in the afternoon and you're bundled up in the covers, soft breaths exiting through your mouth because your nose is congested. You look all cozy, like a hibernating bear, on his side of the bed. It would be a more adorable sight under different circumstances, but this is the product of you catching a cold.

Toji sets the small bag filled with your medicine and other little things he hopes will make you feel better, on his nightstand. He crouches down in front of you and brings a noticeably cooler hand to your heated cheek.

"Hey," Toji calls, gently pinching your cheek. Your hearing must be muffled, because you don't budge and remain in your deep sleep. "Ma," he tries again, shaking you by your shoulder this time. You stir and attempt to roll over in the other direction, towards the center of the bed, but Toji keeps you steady by tugging on the blanket you're cocooned in. "Wake up, mama. Just for a little. I got your stuff. Medicine, snacks— you probably won't be able to taste them, but they're there."

You open your eyes, and simply blink. The room is darker and more shadowy since you went down for your supposed nap. It's been hours, but your body still feels so tired and your head is pulsing.

"How are you feeling?" Toji asks.

You were trying to say "so so", but no sound came out, so it seemed like you were mouthing the words instead. You felt the effort your vocal cords made, but your voice was shot. Nothing is audible unless it's strained. A huff and a roll of your eyes let Toji know how bad of a time you were having.

"Gotcha," Toji responds to your attempt to speak, a soft smile on his face.

He stands up from his crouched position and turns to the bag on his nightstand, rummaging through it to grab the box of medicine at the bottom and your water bottle. He sees you untangling yourself from the covers and sitting up to rest against the headboard, in his peripheral vision. Your hair is messy, some of it is stuck to your forehead from how much you've been sweating, even though you've felt cold the whole time. You can't breathe properly out of your nose, and your throat is sore. Your entire demeanor just screams "sick".

Toji offers you two gel capsules and twists the cap off your bottle of water, before handing it to you as well. You toss the pills into your mouth, and wash them down with a swig of water. In an attempt to clear your nose, you sniff a few times, getting absolutely no change in your ability to breathe through your nose.

"Go back to sleep. I'll get you some soup for when you wake up, 'kay?"

You nod and set your water bottle down on Toji's nightstand, before you slide back down the bed and shift comfortably onto your side. The blanket is wrapped around you, again, and you're ready to shut your eyes. Toji comes closer, crouching down like he did when he woke you up.

"Mm-mm," you hum, the sound cracked and barely audible, a response to Toji leaning in and trying to kiss you.

"Come on, ma. It's been a whole day. Just one. A peck?"

"No," you whisper, only able to communicate verbally in this hushed voice.

"Oh. You want me to have two?" He says, with a playful smirk.

You give him a deadpan expression and shift in the blanket, bringing it up to cover your mouth.

"Okay, fine. Just one."

You shake your head, minimally. Just enough so that you don't shake your brain and make your head hurt even more, and he still gets the message.

"Be nice, mama. Just one, then i'll leave you alone--" he pauses, briefly, "--until I come back with your soup. Then you gotta give me another one. You know, Toji Tax."

You roll your eyes and huff. The Toji Tax is just Toji's way of getting extra loving from you. There's a Toji Tax on just about everything he does for you, so you're not surprised that your sickness doesn't exempt you from it.

Your reaction showed the signs that let Toji know that he's about to get what he wants. The barrier you raised over your mouth is lowered, your involuntary pout now on full display, ready to be kissed whenever Toji's ready.

"Don't look too excited," Toji jests. He chuckles at the gloomy expression on your face. You look absolutely miserable in this state. It's adorable, and while he would love to keep teasing you, he decides to move faster so that you can get your rest.

It starts with a peck—as promised. He's slow with separating his lips from yours, to keep the contact with you going for as long as possible. Then he goes in for another one—just as gentle and delayed in separation. You still haven't done anything to stop him, so he keeps going in for more and more, each kiss more fervent than the last. Within seconds, he's barraging you with quick kisses, back to back, as if to make up for the last twenty-four hours he went without feeling your soft lips against his. He's getting closer, almost climbing into bed with you, so you hum and turn your head. He starts following your movement, like an eager puppy, chasing after more of your kisses.

"Don't care if I get sick, ma."

You hum in disapproval and push his face away when he starts leaning in, again. Quickly, you cover your head with the blanket and roll to the other side of the bed.

Toji sighs, a mischievous smirk lingering on his face. He got way more than he expected, but when it comes to you, he can never have enough. He stands up from the awkward position he got himself into while he chased after your lips, and looks at your bundled up figure, now out of his reach.

"I'll be back, doll. Gonna go get your soup, but remember... Toji Tax."

[wonderjanga]

Warfare

You see, Marvel’s mentioned the Wisdom of Solomon before. The JL never really thought much about it. As a result, the JL just thinks Marvel has all these… interesting ideas but just never says anything about them. Though, there are a couple times the ideas are actually voiced. (They don’t know Billy is just parroting whatever Solomon or occasionally another God with tell him)

Like the time Batman and Marvel got stranded on a planet that was stuck in the middle of war. They were promised

Rebel Leader: “Do either of you have any ideas to bring to the table?”

Batman: “No. Marvel?”

Marvel: “Huh? Oh uh… well I could magic a plague into the water near them. You said they’re using it for their water source, right? Then, when they’re weak, we can go around and take them out.” *sounds hesitant*

Batman: “Hmm… That could be a good idea, but what sort of plague are we talking about?”

Marvel: “Cholera.”

Batman: “What.”

Marvel: “Cholera.”

Batman: “Marvel, that’s fatal.”

Marvel: “Oh.”

Batman: “Yeah.”

*silence*

Marvel: “Well, if we’re quick, it we can get to them before they die.”

Batman: *stares for a bit, holding back a sigh* “We don’t even know if Cholera will affect their biology the same way it does humans.”

Rebel Leader: “What is this Cholera?”

Batman: “It’s a deadly waterborne disease.”

Rebel Leader: “I see… And you’re unsure whether it will work with our physiology… might I propose a different disease?”

So yes, biological warfare, that’s our first thing. Batman proceeded to spend a lot of time convincing the Rebel Leader not to nearly kill an entire group of people with their version of Cholera.

Then there was the time Bruce and Marvel were working together and got held up in a shootout at a lab.

Marvel: *looking at the various chemicals in the lab* “Gosh, I remember my first exposure to chlorine gas.” *getting nostalgic* (He’s from the 1940s in this one, guys)

Batman: “You’ve been exposed to chlorine gas?”

Marvel: “Yeah, and let me tell you, those dang Nazis were horrified when it didn’t work on me. Don’t worry though, we’re gonna be making mustard gas instead.”

Batman: “Captain, we are not doing that.”

Marvel: “Why? We have all the available ingredients.”

Batman: “Marvel.” *puts a hand on his shoulder* “Mustard gas can be fatal.”

Marvel: “Oh.”

Batman: “Yeah.”

*silence*

Marvel: “My bad.”

*more silence*

Batman: “Is this why you always let others plan?”

Marvel: “Are you gonna look at me weird if I say yes?”

Batman: “Hn.” (Translation: Yes, but it won’t be visible through my cowl)

This incident checks chemical warfare off the list. Bruce is now concerned as to why most of Marvel’s ideas are either nearly fatal or just fatal.

Then there was the time Marvel went undercover with Bruce Wayne, not Batman for whatever reason. They then got attacked by pirates while on a ship trying to gather information about some supervillain.

Bruce and Marvel: *taken cover under a table while the pirates fire cannon balls at them*

Bruce: “Any ideas?” *peaks over the cover only for a cannonball to whiz right past his head*

Marvel: “I think I have one. So here’s what I’m thinking. I take out their mast, steal all their oars, and then push them out to sea and let them drift wherever.

Bruce: “That’s… Intense. Wouldn’t they starve if you just let them drift?”

Marvel: “I guess. If they’re not saved, I mean.”

Bruce: *stares with the most deadpan face* “How about I come up with a plan instead?”

Marvel: “You got it boss.”

And last but not least, the physical warfare.

By the way, Billy doesn’t know Bruce is the Bat. No, no, no, he just thinks the guy is someone Batman wants him to work with. He was a little surprised to see the dude act all brooding like Mr. Batman when he had heard from others that he was a party boy. Oh well, not his business. Meanwhile, Bruce doesn’t know Marvel thinks he’s just interacting with a capable civilian.

That last part was inspired by @helps-the-writing-brain-go’s reblog of this post. Thanks for letting me write with your idea :)

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT when you can't sleep

Requested? No! (But they are still open!)

Genre: Comfort

A/N: This is entirely self-indulgent because I woke up at 3:45am and couldn’t go back to sleep. For this reason, please forgive any typos or mistakes.

Seungcheol

Deeply disturbed when he finds that you are not next to him in bed. Gives it a few minutes, thinking you might have just gotten up to go to the bathroom or get some water, but when the time ticks by, he gets up to find you on the couch, watching TV. “Baby, what are you doing up?” He’ll ask concerned, glancing at the clock. When you say you woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep, he’s plopping onto the couch with you, making you curl into him. You feel bad because he needs his sleep, but he’ll brush you off, saying he’ll stay up with you any night. You do eventually doze off in his warmth while reruns of some sitcom play on the TV and he’ll carefully carry you back to bed.

Jeonghan

He feels you tossing and turning for what feels like hours. He’s tired and maybe even a little bit irritable when he touches your back, asking why you’re still up. He immediately feels bad for his irritability when you say you’re sorry, but that you had a nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep. He’s tugging you into his side, patting your head in a ‘there, there’ sort of motion, asking you to tell him all about it. It becomes clear that you’re not going back to sleep anytime soon, but that’s okay, because he’ll just lie there next to you and talk, no matter how drowsy he is. 

Joshua

Seems to have a sixth sense about when you get out of bed. You’ve barely got your slippers on before he’s asking where you’re going. When you say you just can’t sleep, he looks at the time, which is somewhere around 4am. He shrugs, getting out of bed as well, despite your insistence that he needs his sleep. He starts the coffee pot and gets a skillet out to make breakfast and you’re resigned to the fact that you both are now up for the day. He doesn’t have any complaints, not even when you both are dozing on the couch by 2pm. 

Jun

When he realizes that you never actually got to sleep and are just laying in bed scrolling at nearly 1am, Jun simply takes the phone out of your hands and puts it back on the charger. “Play a game with me. Eye spy with my little eye…” You have to laugh because, well, it’s totally dark in the room now. But you play along because everything in your bedroom is familiar to you, even in the dark. You’re kind of touched at how aware of the little things in your room he is, even if he doesn’t live here (yet). Like he knows that you left a blue sweatshirt on the back of your vanity chair, or that there is little green detailing on your jewelry box. You doze off by about the tenth round and Jun keeps quiet after that. 

Hoshi

He comes home late from practice and finds that you’re still awake, tossing and turning, and he’s concerned. When you say you just haven’t been able to settle down, he thinks for a split second and says, “Well, I was about to shower. Come with me, maybe the warmth will help.” There’s absolutely nothing suggestive about the idea. He even washes your hair for you, letting you relax as he scratches your scalp for way longer than was probably necessary. You’re out like a light as soon as your head hits the pillow. Now showering before bed, especially with him, is a regular occurrence to wind down. 

Wonwoo

When he rolls over in the middle of the night to find that your beside lamp is still on and you’re still reading, he glances at the clock and then raises an eyebrow. “Must be a good book,” he mumbles. When you hum and tell him that it’s actually not, but you just can’t sleep, he’s sitting up next to you, leaning against the headboard. “Just how bad could it be?” He doesn’t acknowledge the ‘can’t sleep’ comment out loud, plucking the book from you and reading to you. He has to admit, the book does kind of suck, but he’s relieved to see that you’ve dozed off to the sound of his voice within a couple chapters. 

Woozi

He knows your sleeping habits and also notices some of the things that don’t help it. But he’s hesitant to correct you, so he tries correcting these bad habits by correcting them in himself. Say you’re hanging out late with him while he works. The first thing he’ll do is turn down the caffeine at a certain point, saying he wants to actually get some sleep tonight. The second thing is that he’ll subtly rush to wrap things up quickly for the night so both of you can get home at a decent time. This technique won’t work every night because sometimes you don’t follow his lead or it’ll just be an exceptionally late night for him, but both of you tend to get better sleep when you keep a routine and cut the caffeine. 

DK

Didn’t you see this coming? The moment you say you can’t sleep, he’s serenading you. Sometimes it’s sweet and soft with the intent of soothing you, and sometimes it’s goofy and animated with the intent on making you lighten up when you’re particularly frustrated by your bad sleeping habits. Sometimes you scold him to rest his voice, but he Will. Not. Be. Stopped. He’ll sing entire albums for you until you’re sleepy again, so don’t test him. 

Mingyu

Prepare to be cocooned the moment you say you can’t sleep. He’s so sweet and he also doesn’t work out for no reason. He’ll literally wrap you in the blanket and hold you tight against his chest, talking sweetly about what might be bothering you. Even if nothing in particular is bothering you and you just can’t sleep, that’s fine too. He’ll stroke your hair and keep you warm until you’re ready to sleep. 

Minghao

He absolutely thinks it’s stress. He notices the pattern - when you have a lot going on a work or in your family life, you’re extremely restless. Like Woozi, he might make it seem like it’s for him when he says he wants to try out a new bedtime routine. He likes meditating and decides to do it before bed, asking you to join. Then, when you both are done, he pushes you towards the bedroom, following you with two cups of tea. It doesn’t work right away, but the longer he keeps up this little routine with you, the more he notices that your shoulders are more relaxed and you fall asleep faster. 

Seungkwan

One night, you’re exceptionally restless and he asks what’s wrong. You complain that the street lights coming through the windows and all the city noise have been bothering you lately. He lets you be for the night - if you want to toss and turn for a while, if you want to get up, if you want to cuddle, whatever is fine with him. But the next night before bed, he hands you two small boxes, one with a brand new sleep mask and one with small noise cancelling earbuds, encouraging you to try them out. These two things will constantly be replaced and upgraded as needed as long as they seem to help.

Vernon

Might be a little dead to the world when he sleeps, but if you happen to nudge him in the middle of the night saying that you can’t sleep and you seem upset by it, he’s automatically offering to take a walk, no matter how groggy he is. Throws on some clothes and splashes his face with cold water in the bathroom so he can get with the program for you. Walks for hours if you need it - talking or in total silence, headphones or no headphones, holding hands or no physical contact at all. Absolutely does not matter to him. He’ll get back to sleep when you do. 

Chan

Another one that makes it seem like it’s for him. He’s noticed your sleeping habits and how run down you seem by it, but doesn’t address it directly. Instead, he says he read an article that described how bad blue light was for sleep and he thinks he wants to try an electronic cleanse a couple hours before bed to see if it helps him. “Are you okay with that?” He’ll ask hopefully. Of course you agree, because it’s for him! He’ll resist the urge to giggle to himself when you pass out almost immediately when your head hits the pillow on the first night of this so-called electronic cleanse. He did not expect it his little plan to be successful so quickly. 

[daisymbin]

[23:40] - choi seungcheol

a/n: this is a short prequel drabble to this other drabble [21:47]

check out my masterlist!

it started out as a simple bet. you weren’t entirely sure how you’d ended up there, sitting across from seungcheol in a dimly lit bar, matching his cocky grin with a look of your own. you should’ve known better than to challenge him; this was choi seungcheol, after all, the human embodiment of confidence.

“you really think you’re gonna win this one?” he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his biceps bulging under the sleeves of his shirt. it was almost unfair, how smug he looked, the self-assuredness practically radiating off of him.

you scoffed, refusing to let him intimidate you. “you talk a lot for someone who’s about to lose.”

he raised an eyebrow, the smirk on his lips widening. “is that so? hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but no one’s ever beaten me at this game.”

he leaned forward then, resting his elbows on the table, and you tried not to show how much your heart was racing. he was too close, his gaze too piercing. god, he just looks so good. “but don’t worry, i’m a good sport,” he whispered, his voice dropping lower, more tempting....more seductive? “i won’t make you feel too bad about losing. I'll continue being a good friend, you'll feel like you're winning even when you're losing."

you swallowed, trying to keep your composure, refusing to let show that he had an effect on you, “big words for a big ego.”

his chuckle was low, a sound that made your cheeks heat up. “confident, aren’t we?” he tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “i like it. makes things more… fun.”

the challenge was clear in his tone, and you couldn’t back down now. not when he was looking at you like that, like he knew exactly how to get under your skin.

you leaned in, meeting his gaze head-on. “let’s make it more interesting, then.”

his eyes lit up with interest. “oh? what do you have in mind?”

“winner gets whatever they want,” you declared, praying your voice didn’t waver. you could only bank in on the fact that you'd win. you can't afford to lose now.

his smirk widened. “dangerous territory, sweetheart.” he paused, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “you sure about that? cause i've got something in mind. i’m game though. hope you’re ready to hand over your pride.”

you fought to keep your expression neutral, despite the way your heart was pounding. “we’ll see about that, cheol.”

he winked. “oh, we will.”

[eff-plays]

Long Taash storyline rant, by an enby

Listen. At first I was honestly not that offended/upset with the Taash enby stuff. And having an enby Rook who was able to help them out was honestly pretty fun. It was definitely the first time any video game engaged directly with nonbinary identity like this, and while it's not really 1-1 with my own experiences, I thought that it was. Fine? Ya know? I thought it was a very novel experience to finally have a fellow enby NPC that you could talk to about being nonbinary. It's never happened in any other game I've played.

But then it just ... kept going. And on one hand I get it, because you don't just decide your nonbinary and that's it -- it's a process. But the way it's handled is absolutely insane to me. First of all, how old is Taash supposed to be? They give off whiny teen vibes, and it's very off-putting. This is the character that's meant to represent me? Why are they written like a child?

Second, why are we using modern terms? The word "nonbinary" IRL exists because it is a rejection of the Western gender binary. It's a specific term that isn't universal, and since no previous game bothers to engage with the gender roles of Thedas to begin with, it's absolutely insane to hear these hyperspecific terms used in this made-up fantasy world. Especially since the Qun already has words and concepts for their gender roles -- why didn't BioWare just base this story on those? Why not try to contextualize this in-universe? There are other nonbinary characters in the game, but they just popped up in this previously unequal and often sexist world and are just vibing. With no explanation. Who's out there doing thedosian gender studies? How are they spreading these revolutionary concepts so far and so quickly that the terminology becomes universal?

Side note on that, why does Taash have a little counselling session with the other two trans people that sounds like something they'd do in sex ed class (in Sweden, anyway)? Why is this happening during a magical apocalypse? Hello? Look at this fucking codex entry and try not to cringe

Like. Who is this for? This doesn't make me feel good as a nonbinary person. This makes me feel like a freak, out-of-place, and like I'm a fucking baby that needs my existence validated by some fucking bitchass video game codex entry preaching at me about how totally valid I am. This doesn't feel like respect, or inclusion -- it feels patronizing. It feels corporate, like we're ticking off boxes. "Look everyone, we're using the appropriate terminology! We're so inclusive!" And you know what? The fucking anti-woke chuds are gonna look at this and think THIS is me. That all I care about is having my terminology and identity carelessly stuffed into places just so I can feel good about who I am.

And before tumblrinas get upset, I'm not saying I don't want rep, or that I'm one of the "good ones" who wants video games to be free of "ideology." I am one of the bad ones. Taash should be nonbinary and I should be able to play a nonbinary Rook and I want both of those things to be explicit and accepted in-game! But I want those in a way that respects me and my intelligence, and the world BioWare has created that I've come to love. Who is preventing BioWare from actually, ya know, unwrapping the sexism and misogyny that they started in Origins? Who's stopping them from actually tackling the gender politics of Thedas? Why don't we ACTUALLY sit down and figure out how a society like the Qun might approach somebody not willing or able to conform to their particular rules? Especially the Qun. Like, they had so much potential for something actually interesting here, and instead it's "mom it's not a phase, respect meeeeee!"

Third, and this is my favorite fucking part, they tie Taash's gender to their background, where the Qun represents conformity and Rivain represents freedom. (Which is an entire can of worms in itself that I won't go into here.) I don't actually mind this? I have some extra special boy insight on this part of the quest, because I am also an immigrant who was born in one country and grew up in another. Being nonbinary and being an immigrant, while separate, have both had a similar effect in my life. It's left me feeling like I don't belong anywhere at times, like I'm something different and strange, and at times like I'm a kaleidoscope of expression and freedom, with unique experiences not everyone has. There is an absolutely valid intersection there that could have been explored and would've been very impactful if done right.

But instead we get this

Hello? Oh my god HELLO?

Why is there a BINARY CHOICE in a story where a character embraces being NONBINARY? Why are we now equating Taash's background and cultural belonging to the demands of their mother? You can reject what your parent is forcing you into without completely rejecting your culture! Am I fucking taking crazy pills right now?

The idea that Taash, upon discovering they're nonbinary, has to now say goodbye to being a Qunari? When they weren't even ever shown to care about the Qun in the first place? WHY IS THIS A CHOICE THAT HAS TO BE MADE? WHY ARE THEY ASKING ME WHETHER THEY SHOULD CONTINUE FOLLOWING THIS CREED THEY DO NOT CARE ABOUT? (Side note: why did their mother escape from the Qun only to enforce it herself?)

Like? You can't spend a whole fucking subplot deciding you're neither a man nor a woman, but then equate being nonbinary to being Rivaini, and thinking you need to pick that or being Qunari. I'm sorry? I'm sorry? I'm sorry?

Why is there no third choice? Why is there no "Hey you can be both" or "Hey just pick whatever from either culture you want to keep and throw away what you don't?"

I am going insane. The game sits you down and condescends at you for ages about basic contemporary gender theory, but then tries to inexplicably tie that to Taash's cultural background, but then doesn't bother examining how those cultures treat gender at all, and then finally forces us into a binary choice ... for a character whose entire fucking personality is "nonbinary."

The Qun is a misogynistic society. Rivain is a matriarchal society. (This was true for the previous games, at least.) The way these cultures approach gender is vastly different. But instead of examining how such a person would struggle with their background and how that would tie into their gender identity, it's just "Rivain good" and "Qun bad." Pick one or the other. Conform or rebel. Pick one or the other.

And that's the storyline of the nonbinary character.

The reactionary chuds will hate this and blame nonbinary people for how much this fucking sucks. While I can't claim or enjoy it because it's corporate nonsense and fucking sucks. All this does is show people that when games include enby rep, it's hack shit like this, so why include it if it's gonna suck ass, right? This bad writing will just make your game worse, so don't bother!

So yeah. Cool.

Thanks, BioWare. I hope whatever you were trying to prove was worth it.

[newkatzkafe2023]

Not sure if this is your inbox but I'm really new to Tumblr and don't use it often but anyways if it's ok with you can you do all wukongs with mommy dearest reader and fem ruv reader from fnf/Friday night funking?

Ohhhhhhhhhh Ruv is my favorite FnF character 🇷🇺🤩

(Lmk Wukong) Yooo, he met you when your booming voice shook his entire mountain, He thought it was an earthquake😱. He went to find the source of the sounds and found a pretty purple Russian monkey, with the vocal cords that can be heard even in the celestial realm. Wukong was shocked by your interesting but glass shattering little quirk of yours and wonders if it affects your way of talking or yelling at the Matter. Though right now he needs you to keep it down, he's trying to sleep😴 😓😣

(MKR Wukong) HE IMMEDIATELY ASSUMED HE WAS UNDER ATTACK🤣🤣🤣, because he woken right out of his sleep from what felt like a giant earthquake. The camp was shaken scarying the crap out of the monk and pigsy, and startled sandy out of his own sleep fruity got scared and hid in his shirt. Wukong quickly went to find the potential threat in the woods they were in, but what he wasn't expecting was to see a very light purple monkey. When Wukong found you he had to fight a blush and demanded an explanation as to why you attacked them, until you told him that you were just singing. Making his jaw dropped on the floor, that just raised further questions!😲

(NR Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh he spotted a pretty Russian monkey at a underground block rave. Your big booming voice literally shaking the stadium as you sung on stage and what's shocking your microphone wasn't even on. After the concert rave Wukong wasted no time coming over to introduce and flirt a little with you and even got little Ole you to blush, and thus the beginning of your relationships with him.😘

(HIB Wukong) Your silence make him wonder what's going on in that little head of yours, you would just sit next to him and watch over the family. You do love him and his children, making it your business to keep an close eye on Luier and Silly girl. Until some demons bandits attack their village and aim to take Luier away, before Wukong and do anything you got infront of them, turned on your microphone and sang your heart out. Which would be weird until you sent a large group of demons flying with just your voice, not to mention Breaking the sound barrier. Hence why Wukong avoids Arguing or disagreeing with you in fear you would get upset and blow his ears out😬😬😬.

(Netflix Wukong) He didn't think too much of you, not in a bad way, but you were just very quiet. You would often just sit on the sidelines as you watched Wukong act like a fool and battle other demons. One day, you had been watching him train until a group of demons came to provoke and taunt him, which Wukong was rightfully pissed but then suddenly the group was practically sent to orbit by a sonic boom. Wukong slowly looked over and saw you standing there with your mic, now he's wondering if you can teach him how to do that..😐😛🫨

(BMW Wukong) A beautiful woman, with a powerful set of pipes and ohhhhhhhhhh is he interested. He had heard of you from some musicians about you and your Unique Voice and went to one of your concerts, and well apparently not only is your voice the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. It was also the loudest one he's ever heard and he was yelled at by alot of celestials Deities, not to mention your voice shakes the earth to its very core. Like seriously it was felt by him, AND HE'S STANDING ON A CLOUND!!!! now he very intrigued now.

(Destined one) Huh I feel like he's always the quiet one, until something happens and it makes him loud. With that the same goes for you as well which is why you both get along so well with each other. Now he found out about your out of this world rapping voice when he was fighting a Creature and wanted to help your husband so you took your Mike and sang. Which sent the Creature flying back into a large deep crater! The Destined one saw the wrath of a goddess that day!

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🇷🇺

[caxycreations]

I feel like you guys are missing the point.

He's a 900+ year old Time Lord. He's living as much as he possibly can, and he feels like it's nowhere near enough, and far too much, all at the same time.

This SAME MAN, same face and all, is the person who said "Sometimes I think a Time Lord lives too long"

He's the man who, literally in his NEXT regeneration, spends a third of his series depressed because he can't find an ounce of joy in the universe himself and NEEDS humans to show around so he can catch a hint of it through them.

The Doctor even states that humans "look like giants" to him, specifically BECAUSE of the fact that they live so much in such a short time.

This isn't a show about an awesome, nigh-immortal time-traveling alien.

It's a show about the pains and soul-crushing responsibilities that come with time travel and immortality.

And, of course, you're all forgetting the glaring fact of this episode, entirely separate from the quotes you're so eagerly judging:

THE MAN THE DOCTOR IS TALKING TO HAS TO EAT PEOPLE TO STAY YOUNG.

He literally KILLS PEOPLE to survive. The Doctor, talking him out of eternal life, is not just doing so because "long life bad", he's doing so because "eating people to live forever is an awful way to be" as well.

You're also disregarding his point entirely in favor of giving bad-faith analysis of the show.

His point is that whether you have 10 years or 20, how you spend that time is what matters, not the amount of time you have to spend.

He has eternity, and it's not worth it. He knows it isn't, and he's trying to stop anyone else from making that mistake. He's living for so long, and has lived so much, but it just isn't worth it anymore.

Lucy Lacemaker, from Satellite City (or, more officially, The August Few: Amygdala, though she never says this in there) puts it very well:

"Billions of years we've been about. And life's not worth much once the rest is gone. You get bored of the wind and the birds and the sound of laughter and the smell of pine. Life is like a piece of paper. And the writing is our lives. Our stories. When you only have 90 years, the ink turns to gold. So valuable are the words, the days you live. Cause soon, the story will end. But what if you have a never-ending page? A bottomless inkwell? The more you write, the less it all means. That's our curse. We live so long that it's not even life anymore. We're not living forever, we're dying forever."

@another-normal-anomaly said that if they kicked ass for 80 years, got saved, and kicked ass another 80, that's twice as much as they would have done. But that's still only 160 years, and it reinforces the Doctor's point; it's not the time that matters, it's the person, because others may spend that 160 years doing nothing, and some may spend that 160 years doing everything.

But they would still only have 160 years. Not forever. What the Doctor is warning against is eternity. Eternity is pointless.

@dagny-hashtaggart said the show is hypocritical in it's transhumanist stance for featuring an "awesome, nigh-immortal, time-traveling alien", but that just tells me they've either never watched the show or they have and 100% missed the point of the character of the Doctor.

Because the Doctor is not happy with his long life. He's not content or pleased about it. He's miserable. The only worth he finds in it is giving other, shorter-lived life forms the pleasure of seeing things they never could otherwise, and protecting the lives of those more fragile than him because he, at his core, has two values above all others:

If it kills me, I can put an end to this opera of my life, and I can finally rest

If it doesn't kill me, it means I've stopped it and other, more meaningful lives will be spared.

The Doctor is not some happy, positive character. He's a victim of a tragedy, and that tragedy is, quite painfully obviously, the fact he lives so long. His lifespan, his regeneration, is a curse to him, not a blessing. The fact you can call the show hypocritical for that tells me you've never seen it, or you've never understood it.

@argumate made a crude joke about a man with a big dick, named after having a big dick, saying that life wasn't about having a big dick.

Well, fun fact. If your dick were, say, 14 inches, as a human (which is a real condition that has happened), you would have heart problems every time you got erect, be entirely unable to enjoy penetrative sex (aside from the heart problems, you'd be unable to get more than a small fraction of your length in without hurting them), and if you ever tried to get a little more out of it, you'd seriously injure your partner.

Not only that, but you'd have social problems as well. Try hiding the outline when your flaccid length still reaches down past your knee. You'd be a laughing stock early on, and if you had frequent erections (say during puberty, post-growth spurt, pre-calming of the hormones), you'd be unable to hide it no matter how hard you tried.

It would cause more issues than that, too, believe me. And yet you're saying if a man who suffered from all of these problems told you "it's not all fun and games, having a big dick", you'd mock him for not loving the "gift" he's been "blessed" with?

All of you missed the point of the show, the character, and even the point of the scene you're remarking on.

I expected better comprehension on this site.

[author-of-oddities]

hello.. i have no idea how to be as formal and fancy as you are here but id like to humbly request Stanford with electrocution for the Bad Things Happen bingo !! ! !!! if u need any ideas for it in specifics, maybe the aftermaths of Weirdmaggedon?? or possibly having nightmares about it on the ship with stan?? again, just if u need ideas !!! :-)

Ahhh yes!! Absolutely! I present to you...

Aftershock

Trigger/content warnings: descriptions of canon-typical violence and its aftermath A/N: Written for @badthingshappenbingo Prompt: Electrocution Word count: 1,263 Summary: Even after months have passed, Ford is still haunted by the events of Weirdmageddon.

Also on Ao3!

The electricity hit him with brutal force, an invisible lightning that seemed to erupt from nowhere, locking every muscle into an iron grip. His limbs twisted involuntarily, teeth clenched so tightly it felt as though his jaw might shatter. Beneath his skin, an intense, burning current pulsed, sparking along his nerves like fire spreading through dry brush. He couldn't breathe; his chest felt trapped, crushed by an unbearable weight, as though every fiber of his being was locked in a silent scream. It was all-consuming, a brutal takeover that left no corner of him untouched by the raw and relentless force of the shock.

“C’mon, Fordsy,” Bill’s biting voice rang throughout his mind as his body went limp. “One little equation will save you from this, y’know?” Every inch of his body hurt in ways beyond imagination- thankfully, the searing sensation that clawed its way inside out seemed to relent in the same fashion. Still, the burns on his wrists remained, only worsened by every subtle shift, every scrape of skin against the unforgiving shackles. For a fleeting moment, he considered the offer. What was one simple equation compared to the immense physical trauma that he had already and would continue to endure? Ford shook the thought from his mind as quickly as it came, reminding himself of the stakes that weighed solely on that one equation. The world, the universe, the galaxy, and the entire dimension could be ripped apart if somehow, Bill worked the right numbers into their exact places.

He raised his head, grimacing at the pain that shot through his shoulders with the movement, and pried his eyes open, meeting Bill’s with an expression that portrayed unwavering bravery. “Never,” he croaked, voice betraying the impression his look had given. Whether or not he’d admit it, Ford was on the edge of breaking. It was just a matter of what would be the first to give: his body or mind?

Then he decided. “Not until the day I die.”

Body it was.

Bill’s laughter echoed through Ford’s mind, a twisted, taunting sound that rippled like broken glass across his frayed nerves.

“Oh, Fordsy, you’re adorable,” he sneered, floating closer until his voice felt like a whisper wrapped around Ford’s own thoughts. “You really think you can keep this up? That little resolve of yours is as flimsy as a wet tissue. You’re not built for this.”

He drifted around the Fearamid, turning to face his audience, then back at his victim, eye glinting with a disturbing glee. “But, hey, keep playing hero if you want. I can do this all day. Every minute you hold out, you’re just giving me more time to savor your pain. This is fun for me. Can you say the same?”

Ford only sneered in response. Any more than that and he’d certainly be sick. Even at that, Ford had clenched his jaw until he tasted blood, even his method of distraction wearing his body to its limit.

Suddenly, there was a shift in his attitude. Logically, Bill was aware of just how close he’s pushed his captive to the brink of death, even having contorted his power to make sure he didn’t overdo himself. Now, though, Bill knew. “I’ll give you one more chance to end this,” Bill purred, “just say the word. It’s not that hard. Just one equation, Sixer.”

He knew, as much as Bill did, that the fight wasn’t just physical. Bill was tearing at his mind, prying apart each mental shield he’d built to protect himself. Regardless, this was his last chance. It would end one way or another: if he lived, his universe died.

“Suit yourself,” Bill finally sighed, feigning disappointment. “But don’t say I didn’t offer.”

A guttural scream tore from Ford’s throat as another wave of searing electricity ripped through him, a savage torrent of agony that felt like it was unraveling him from the inside out. His vision blurred, his pulse thundered in his ears, and for a terrifying moment, he was certain this was the end—that this time, Bill’s relentless torture would be the thing to leave him as a lifeless shell.

Suddenly, it all stopped.

No more pain, no more grating laughter.

Ford’s chest heaved as he struggled to draw breath. Each gasp came in shallow bursts, quick and desperate, matching the thunderous echo of his heartbeat in his ears. For a moment, those were the only two things that existed- his breathing and heartbeat, both working in harmony to remind him that he did it. He survived.

But there was always more, this time being no different. Sheets had tangled around his legs, the mattress dipped under where he lay, and some foreign pressure pushed on his shoulder. As he calmed, Ford noticed a sound. At first, it was just a muffled noise, almost drowned out by the frantic drum of his pulse. But as he took a shuddering breath, his senses sharpened, and he realized what it was—a voice, rough and familiar, calling his name over and over.

“Ford! Stanford, wake up!”

He jolted upright, eyes flying open as the world came crashing into place around him. Stan dropped his hands from his brother's arm, relieved he didn’t need to spend any more time trying to shake him awake. The loss of contact seemed to startle the older twin further, his breathing quickening again.

“Hey, you’re okay,” Stan tried to reassure, returning his hand to where it’d unknowingly been grounding the other.

Ford nodded, frantically, and it became obvious that he was trying to convince himself that Stan’s words were true. “It…” he held his hands in front of himself, examining the skin around his wrists. Scars mirrored the cuffs that once held him captive, but they were healing, fading slowly—a reminder that it was all in the past.

“It still feels so real,” he murmured, fingers tracing the marks. A strange, tingling sensation pulsed beneath his skin, different from the older scars on his chest and back, which had long since numbed. But this—this was real.

“Hey, Poindexter,” Stan tried softly, successfully drawing his brother’s attention away from his thoughts. As Ford faced him, he continued, “It’s okay. It was just a dream. Look around–” Stanley gestured to the small room around them, just large enough to fit a desk and chair at the foot of the bed. 

Ford took in his surroundings, eyes quickly sweeping the books on the shelf above the desk, the papers from his journals that littered the few surfaces they could, and the quilted blanket that was draped over him. His heartbeat gradually steadied, the familiar objects grounding him more than he’d expected. The gentle sway of the boat beneath him, the faint scent of old wood and sea salt—all of it reminded him of where he truly was, and more importantly, who he was with. Each item was a piece of the life they’d built, of the second chance they’d somehow managed to carve out. This was real, not some fleeting illusion conjured by his mind or a nightmare waiting to collapse. For the first time in a long time, he felt safe. He was on a boat– their boat. The boat of their dreams, even.

He let out a sigh of relief, then let himself fall against Stanley, his head resting on the other’s shoulder. “Yeah, you’re right,” he muttered.

Despite it all– forty years apart, fights in between, and the near-end of the world– they did it. They were here, together at last, sharing a peace they’d fought their whole lives to find.

[romancecroc]

Lucanis (This is a bad idea, pt. 1)

Hello, hello. I felt like re-writing some of the Lucanis romance scenes (I treat them more like one-shots). Here's the "this is a bad idea" scene:

Rook had the tendency to just flirt with everyone. Whatever was happening, whoever it was. Some might call it confidence. But honestly, it was rather the very solid belief that nothing was going to happen anyway. So why not have some harmless fun?

Maybe it was because she never considered herself sexy. The word felt weird. She’d been called funny! Humorous. Witty!

But sexy? Not really. Every time somebody made a move on her, the nerves took over. Forget matching the alluring energy - all that came out of her mouth was a joke. And a nervous giggle after.

Which is why she was currently freaking out. Just a little bit.

“Nothing I’m seeing makes me want to look away” just flew out of her mouth. Lucanis had just expressed shame regarding the second Spite incident.

She didn’t realise she was expressing her thoughts out loud. They somehow got out. Her crush was supposed to remain hidden - and now it sounded terribly obvious. Almost like a confession. 

But that wasn’t the problem.

She said all kinds of things all the time.

The problem was the reaction.

Lucanis didn’t laugh it off. He didn’t roll his eyes about how silly that comment was.

He was looking right at Rook. Something… shifting in his eyes. 

And that really freaked her out.

“How do you do it?” Lucanis said, breaking the temporary silence with a low voice. 

“Do what?” Rook responded, almost coughing between her words. She leaned against the pantry wall, trying to shrug it off. 

Whatever she was seeing must just be her imagination. There’s no way.

“Break apart my perfectly gathered clouds of doom.”

Any attempts of disbelief started to crumble.

She looked at him wide-eyed. If it wasn’t obvious then, it was now.

Oh shit, she thought. Is this actually happening? 

“You deserve better than to deal with my mess.” he finished, holding Rook’s gaze.

A million responses were brewing in Rook’s head. All the wrong kind, of course.

I’m a professional janitor. I’ll go out of business without a mess!

I’m cleaning up the blight. Surely I can clean you up as well!

But for once, she could hold them back. Aware that they could sound insincere. After all, he was being honest with her.

But her silence was interpreted as a rejection. Lucanis lowered his eyes to the floor, slowly taking a step back.

“You’re more-” Rook finally blurted out, taking a step forward to maintain their previous distance. She instinctively grabbed his arm to make sure he didn’t step away any further. Her face was warming up too.

Now his eyes were widening.

“You’re more than what you’re going through. And I think you wear it well! Incredibly, if I’m honest. You’re amazing after all.”

There was a pause.

Rook finally realized she was still holding on to his arm. Within seconds she let go of it and glued herself against the pantry wall again. Almost like looking for shelter to hide her embarrassment. And her blushing face.

Speaking from the heart? Being sincere? It felt like her entire body was being pulled apart from both sides. She still couldn’t believe all the things she’d said out loud.

“Anyways, I’ll leave you be and-” Rook said, calming herself and closing her eyes. She could walk out like this. As long as she didn’t maintain eye contact, she wouldn’t have to witness his response.

But then she could hear steps. Walking towards her.

She slowly opened her eyes and by the time she could fully comprehend the scene, Lucanis was standing in front of Rook. Slowly leaning against the wall himself, towering over her.

He was so close, she could feel his breath against her skin.

“Rook… You like to walk a little close to the edge.”

The way he spoke her name almost sounded like a growl. He also made sure to maintain eye contact.

Somehow whatever thoughts he had were very visibly expressed through his eyes.

“So do you.” Rook responded, slowly gaining the courage to gently tap against his vest.

“You know this is a bad idea…” he whispered, slowly leaning in closer. 

“Sometimes a bad idea is better?” she chuckled quietly, mirroring his movement. Her hand resting on his cheek. Inching closer.

And then a flash of purple gleamed through his eyes. Any closeness broken apart by Lucanis stumbling backwards, grunting while holding his head in pain.

“Lucanis!” 

Rook rushed in to keep him from collapsing. After a few seconds of head shaking, the purple faded away - his eyes turning back to normal. 

“I… need to clear my head.” Lucanis muttered in a self-defeating tone, grabbing his gear from a cabinet.

There was an awkwardness hanging in the air. But Rook figured Lucanis had more pressing matters on his plate.

Whatever… this was, it could wait. Or maybe it was just a temporary moment?

“Rook.” Lucanis said, interrupting Rook’s train of thoughts.

Before she could respond, he had reached for her hand. Raised it. And then gave it a gentle kiss.

“Thank you again for checking in on me.” he said with a warm smile, bowing slightly and then headed out.

She stood there for a few minutes. Until she finally regained control of her legs, walking back to her room as if in automated mode. Barely containing the smile on her face.

[bamber344]

Subject G-5: 'Magpie'

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masterlist

heyo! this chapter is a fucking MONSTER. biggest one yet. but that's what i get for trying to condense a character's entire backstory into one chapter lol. I'm sure you can guess who's backstory it is ;P

Enjoy!

CWs: living weapon whump, minor whump, whipping, electrocution, stress positions, non-con body modification, lab whump, starvation, controlling whumper, vomit, various other bodily fluids

Subject G-5: 'Magpie'

Maggie sighed, sinking further against the cushions as Diego’s hand massaged preen oil through the feathers on her back and wings, straightening them out and cleaning any debris out of them. After having to suffer through trying to do it herself with her limited human flexibility for the first nine months of her life, having someone else to help her with preening was something she would truly never take for granted. It wasn’t just her wings she had to worry about; the feathers trailed all the way down her spine, coalescing in a small, useless tail at her coccyx. Basically, it was a whole lot of work. At least she was blessed with a preen gland, producing her own preen oil and saving her the struggle of having to find another way to maintain her feathers’ quality, despite the fact that other people tended to find it…offputting. 

Well, Andreas was an asshole anyway, so what did she care about his opinion? Diego didn’t mind, and Hex never knew anything different. They were the only ones that mattered.

Maggie heard the door to Hex’s room open, and she plodded over to them, taking a seat on the couch near Maggie’s feet.

“Hey Diego?” she asked. “Can we get McDonalds for dinner?”

“That depends,” he hummed. The sound instinctively made Maggie relax. “Have you finished your studies for this week yet?”

Despite the fact that she was out of Maggie’s line of sight, she could almost feel Hex’s pout. “Maggie didn’t finish hers last week, but you still bought her chinese food when she asked!”

“Hey, I’ve been busy working at the construction site, making money so we can eat! I don’t always have time to read books,” Maggie complained. “Also, Diego loves me.”

“Actually, last week you skipped out on studying to try and go after Jordyn again, and she kicked your butt so bad she broke three of your ribs.”

“‘Scuse you! I kicked her butt! You weren’t there, you didn’t see!”

“I’ve gotta give that one to Hex, babe,” Diego said. “I did tell you not to go.”

“Whatever. Either way, I sorted it. She won’t be coming after us.”

“Anyway, that’s besides the point,” Hex said. “The point being: is McDonalds on the table tonight?”

“...Actually, I could go for some McDonalds right now, too,” Maggie muttered.

Diego laughed. “Fine. But that’s the last time I’m ordering takeout for the rest of the month!”

Hex protested, and Maggie smiled as the conversation between her sister and her boyfriend continued on above her. A comforting warmth settled in her belly; pride and happiness in herself for succeeding in giving her little sister at least some semblance of a normal childhood. It wasn’t perfect by any means – it couldn’t be, what with the memories of the things they suffered in the facility still plaguing them every day – but like this, Hex at least got a chance. She got to bicker with her sister without getting beaten for it, got to skip out on her studies to play video games like a normal kid. Granted, Maggie herself was still learning just what ‘normal’ was. Despite the difference between their physical ages, she was only four months older than Hex, technically speaking. Having Diego around was certainly helpful, though. Without his help, the two of them would probably still be the naive, bumbling idiots they’d been the day they broke out of the facility.

Maggie closed her eyes, relaxing into the couch and reminiscing on how she got to where she was today.

—

5 MONTHS AFTER WAKING

Magpie sat on the end of her bed, shivering. She didn’t know why. She wasn’t cold, not with her wings wrapped around herself protectively like they were. There was nothing to be scared of in the immediate vicinity. And yet, this horrible, pervasive anxiety just wouldn’t leave her alone.

It had been there since this afternoon, when Father screamed at and hit her for flying over the obstacle course instead of running through it. She didn’t understand why it mattered if she could run well when she had a perfectly good pair of wings on her back to help her fly. It was stupid. Father was stupid. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but something just wasn’t right about this whole situation.

As far back as she could remember, Father had been there, helping her recover after waking up from her supposed ‘accident.’ He was trying to help her become a superhero again, or so he said. Magpie just wasn’t sure that she believed it. If he was trying to help her, why would he turn around and hurt her in the same breath? Why did he want so much control over her, to the point where he refused to let her leave the facility, no matter how much she begged? It just didn’t sit right.

Really though, what was she supposed to do? Her memories were completely gone. She had no knowledge of who she used to be, or how the world worked. She had no choice but to just stick with Father until she learned more. Then, she would make a decision on whether or not to trust him.

She occupied herself by running her fingers through the feathers of her wings, straightening them out. Their softness was reassuring, but it did little to settle the quiver of unease that had sunken all the way down into her bones. 

The door opened, and Father walked in. Magpie instinctively hopped off of her bed, ready to defend herself. 

He studied her, eyeing her up and down, before sighing. “Come in, Hex.”

Someone entered the room behind him. Magpie gasped.

The girl was a lot younger than her, shyly hiding behind Father’s leg. Her short-cropped hair was black, just like Magpie’s, and she shared her tan skin. In fact, the girl was practically identical to her aside from her age and the lack of wings on her back. Who the hell was she?!

Father turned to the young girl. “This is the older sister I was telling you about. Her name is Magpie. You’re going to be staying with her from now on, okay?”

“What is this? What’s going on?” Magpie asked.

Father sighed again. “I’m truly sorry, I should have told you this earlier. Hex here is your younger sister. She was injured in the same accident as you, and only woke up a month ago. Since then, she’s been going through the same rehabilitation program that you did, and is finally well enough to join you properly.”

Magpie had absolutely no memory of a younger sister, but… what else could this girl possibly be? She looked exactly like her. It wasn’t like she had memories of anything else either, to be fair, and from the look on her face, Hex was thinking a similar line of thought.

Father placed a hand on Hex’s back and pushed her further into the room. A spark of protectiveness instinctively rose in Magpie’s chest.

“Get to know each other. Another bed will be brought in shortly.”

With that, Father left. Magpie and Hex stared at each other.

“I didn’t know I had a big sister,” Hex said. Her eyes kept flickering to Magpie’s wings. Magpie smirked.

“Well, I didn’t know I had a little sister, either.” She sat back down on the bed, motioning for Hex to join her. “You don’t remember anything either, huh?”

Hex shook her head, tentatively climbing up next to Magpie. 

“Even if I have no memories of you, it’s nice to finally not be alone. No one else… gets how hard it is, not knowing anything. Y’know?”

Hex hummed in agreement, but she seemed a bit distracted. “Can I… Um… Can I touch your wings?”

Magpie chuckled. “Sure. But be gentle.”

Hex reached out, carefully running her fingers along the feathers. Magpie tried not to shiver. The touch was gentler than anything she’d ever felt from another person before, and honestly, it was starting to get her a little choked up, especially with the cute little smile on Hex’s face as she did it.

There was something on the back of her neck. Magpie frowned.

“Hey, let me see the back of your neck?”

“Hm? Okay.”

Hex shifted a little to allow access. Sure enough, there it was. Starting just below her hairline, there were a bunch of lines making up a weird rectangle, and below that, there was writing.

G-6: ‘HEX’

PROPERTY OF PRECINCT 23

That same old dread settled into Magpie’s gut. Something just wasn’t right. Hex seemed oblivious to it, but somehow Magpie knew. Was she even really her little sister? Or was this just another lie from their ‘Father’?

There was one thing she was certain of, though. Little sister or not, Magpie had to protect her. They were in this situation together, and she wouldn’t let that old man hurt her like he had hurt Magpie. She swore it.

—

9 MONTHS AFTER WAKING

Magpie rolled her shoulders as she walked down the corridor, having finished her combat training for the day. Anxiety broiled in her gut for her upcoming exam tomorrow. It wasn’t that she was scared she would fail – there wasn’t even a chance of that. It was more a general excitement at the prospect of finally being allowed to go outside.

The past few months had been difficult, full of harsh training and harsher punishments, but as soon as Father gave her free access to the outside world, Magpie was gonna grab Hex and make a run for it. Their freedom from this underground hellhole was so close, she could almost taste it.

The thought of Hex made her sigh. The girl was struggling under Father’s ‘tutelage.’ She didn’t have the same distrust of him that Magpie did. She hung on his every word, followed every order to the letter, and the slightest hint of a smile from him was enough to have her practically melting. And yet, her young body just couldn’t live up to the demands being placed on her. He was being a lot gentler with her than he had been with Magpie, but she didn’t doubt it wouldn’t be long until his limited patience ran out.

Honestly, what was he expecting? Magpie was a full-grown woman of 25, but Hex was barely even a teenager! Of course she couldn’t complete all of these crazy, dangerous obstacle courses. If not for her telekinesis power allowing her to block the knives and poles being swung at her, she’d probably already be dead! Magpie herself had had way too many close calls on that course for comfort, and she could literally fly over it if she wanted.

The thought angered her, but she buried it down. Just one more day. One more day, and they could get out of here for good. 

Speaking of Hex’s training, Magpie was pretty sure it was still going on for today. She figured she might as well go and see how her little sister was going before heading back to their room.

A shrill scream and a loud crack echoed through the hallways. Magpie’s heart leapt into her throat. She started running.

He wouldn’t. Surely he wouldn’t. He’d threatened Magpie with it a few times, and only backed down on account of not wanting to damage her wings. Hex didn’t have that protection. But, still. He wouldn’t do that to her, right?

The cracking and shrieking continued, and it became clearer and clearer that, apparently, he would. Magpie was going to kill him.

The sight she saw through the window when she got to Hex’s training course didn’t betray her expectations. 

Hex, shirtless and on her knees. Father standing behind her, whip in hand. A dozen red, bleeding lines criss-crossing Hex’s back as her entire body quaked.

A rage the likes of which she’d never felt before burned in Magpie’s gut. She rushed over to the door, dismayed to find that it was locked.

Fine. It wouldn’t stop her.

She threw her fist against the metal, denting it. A grim satisfaction settled inside of her. Nothing could protect Father from her wrath now.

She punched the edge of the door over and over again, until there was enough space for her to get her fingers in between it and the frame. Ensuring that her grip was sound, she heaved, contracting every fibre of muscle in her arms and literally ripping the sliding metal door out of the wall. Inside, Hex was curled up on the floor, and Father was staring at Magpie like she was the consequences of his actions made manifest. He was scared.

Good.

With a flap of her wings, Magpie was flying towards him, ready to rip him apart. 

Her fist sunk into his side with the force of a wrecking ball, and she felt his ribs crack under her knuckles. The hit sent him flying, slamming into the far wall like a sack of bricks.

Magpie landed on her feet, planting herself between Father and Hex. He wouldn’t hurt them anymore.

Father coughed and gasped, spitting up blood as he tried and failed to get to his feet. “Wh… what… Wh-what’s the meaning of this?! How dare you raise a hand against me!”

“You stay away from us!” Magpie yelled. “Come near Hex again, and I’ll kill you!”

Father finally managed to drag himself up, clutching his side. He scowled. “You’ve always been a precocious one, Five. I see I’ve been far too gentle with you. It’s fine, you’ll learn obedience in time. Here’s your first lesson!”

He threw his hand up and Magpie screamed, suddenly overcome with an impossible pain coursing throughout her entire body, pinpointed in the back of her neck. She collapsed as her knees gave out, writhing on the ground in unknowable agony. Darkness flashed across her vision. She heaved, her body curling in on itself and forcing her lunch back out of her mouth. This was it. She was going to die. Her body couldn’t take it. Hex was going to be all alone with that monster, and there was nothing she could do.

With that one last thought, everything went black and Magpie died.

—

TWO DAYS LATER

If only she’d actually died back then. It would have been a mercy. If she’d died, she wouldn’t be stuck on her knees, with her arms wrenched and twisted behind her back, chained to the wall tight enough that she couldn’t move at all without searing pain. If she’d died, she wouldn’t have been stuck in this exact position for an unknowable amount of time, muscles burning constantly, stomach aching with hunger, thirst quenched by only the most meagre amount of water that would keep her alive, soiling herself over and over with no way to stop it. Passing out was her only consolation, but even then, she never stayed asleep for long. It was stupid of her to think she’d had it bad before. This was true hell.

Magpie closed her eyes, trying not to cry. She couldn’t afford to waste hydration like that. Her only hope was that Hex had been spared. She would put up with this forever if it meant that her little sister was safe.

The door opened, bright light spilling out from the hallway and blinding Magpie after so many hours in the dark. It was probably Father, come to torment her again. She braced herself for another verbal lashing or boot to the jaw.

“Maggie?”

If Magpie had the energy to, she would have gasped.

“H… H-Hex…? Is… Is that… you?” she rasped out.

The figure haloed in light stepped closer. Sure enough, it was Hex, her little sister, looking down at her in horror.

“Oh god, Maggie. Did… Did Father do this to you?”

“What are you doing here?” Magpie croaked, ignoring the question. “If Father finds you, he’ll hurt you again.”

“He’s not here right now. He and a bunch of the scientists left. I’m gonna save you, okay?”

The thought made a lump rise in Magpie’s throat. Her bottom lip quivered. “H- Hex…”

The young girl wasted no more time, rushing to the shackles binding Magpie’s arms and legs. They came undone all at once and she collapsed to the floor, relief flooding her tattered muscles. Magpie couldn’t help it; she started sobbing.

“It’s okay now, Maggie,” Hex said, kneeling at her side and gently massaging the base of her wings. “It’s all gonna be okay. We’re gonna get out of here tonight, just like you talked about.”

“I’m sorry… I c-couldn’t protect you… I’m so sorry, Hex.”

Hex’s voice cracked. “It- it’s alright. It’s not your fault, Maggie.”

Magpie let out a sigh, her body deflating. “I like it when you call me that. B-better than Magpie.”

“Then that’s what I’ll call you from now on, okay?”

Maggie nodded. She sniffled, summing up the energy to speak. “How much time do we have?”

“A little. The hallways are pretty empty right now, so I should be able to get us back to our room without any trouble. We’ll have a bit of time to prepare, but then we have to move. Do… Do you think you’ll be okay? Will you be able to fight?”

“I will be,” Maggie said. “No matter what, I will be. I’ll always fight for you, Hex.”

“Not alone, you won’t. I’ll fight, too. Like you said, we’re in this together. To the end.”

“To the end.”

—

Maggie laid in bed, enjoying her last few moments of rest before everything went down. Hex ended up carrying her down the hallway with telekinesis, and thankfully they didn’t run into anyone on the way. She’d had a shower – or, more accurately, Hex had showered her – gotten a change of clothes, and was now ready to fight for their freedom.

Okay, maybe ‘fight’ was a bit of an exaggeration for her current state. Shakily hobble toward their freedom, more like.

As much as she didn’t want to move at all for the next month, the promise of the outside world was invigorating, and it gave her the strength to sit up.

“Feeling okay to go?” Hex asked.

Maggie sucked in a breath to steel herself and nodded. “I don’t know if I can walk too fast on my own, but together, we should be able to make it.”

Hex nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Maggie dragged herself off of the bed and pretty much flopped over Hex, who wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her as they walked out of their room and into the halls. The pain in her shaking limbs was almost overwhelming, but with Hex’s support, she could manage. She had to.

Maybe it was the fact that it was the middle of the night, or maybe it was because of what Hex said earlier, but the corridors were practically deserted, and they met no resistance as they slowly hobbled their way to the ‘elevator’ that Father was always leaving from. Now, Maggie didn’t really know what an elevator was, but she was sure gonna try and figure it out.

“Um… what do we do now?” Hex asked once they’d stepped inside the small room.

Maggie stared at the row of buttons on the wall.

“Uh, I dunno.”

Hex shrugged and pressed the bottom one, seemingly at random. Well, it was as good a plan as they could possibly have, given the circumstances.

The doors closed, and both of them yelped as the floor started moving. Okay. This was fine. Father travelled on this every day, so Maggie wasn’t gonna let it get the best of her.

After a few seconds, the doors opened again, and the world outside had changed. Instead of bright corridors, the room on the other side was dim, lit up only by dozens of… windows? That wasn't exactly what they looked like, but it was the closest approximation Maggie could guess, considering that she could see different parts of the facility through them. There was a chair in front of the windows, with someone sitting in it. Thankfully, it looked like they were asleep.

Was this the right way? It was worth a look around, at least.

Focusing all of their stealth training, Magpie and Hex tiptoed out of the elevator, sneaking towards the door on the opposite wall. Thankfully, whoever was posted up in the chair was out cold, so they were able to reach the door and get through without the person noticing anything awry.

The room on the other side was… weird. It was just as dimly lit as the previous room, only this time the light source was the large green cylinder next to the door. The walls were lined with other cylinders, but these ones were all made of metal, whereas the glowing green one seemed to be made of glass. Inside the cylinder was a small… something. Honestly, Maggie couldn't really tell what it was. It was tiny, and vaguely person shaped, but that was where her deductions ended.

A forgotten memory suddenly flashed through her mind. She remembered this green stuff. She remembered being submerged in it, floating in the warmth.

The realisation washed over her like ice water. This was it, wasn't it? This was where she came from. There was no ‘before’ the facility. This room was where she and Hex were… created.

Her heart lurched in her chest. They… they were never actually born, just… grown in a tube. No wonder Hex looked exactly like her. Screw ‘sister,’ they were probably the same damn person. And from the looks of things, the tiny speck floating in the green was probably the next little sister to come. What the hell did Father want with them that he would go as far as to create people?!

“There was never an accident, was there?” Hex asked. “This was where we came from.”

Maggie sighed, trying not to let the idea overwhelm her. “Looks like it.”

“B-but… what does that mean for us?”

She scowled. “It means nothing. It doesn't matter where we came from, because we're here now. We exist, we're people, and we're not gonna let Father push us around anymore just because he created us.”

Hex took a shallow breath and nodded. It looked like she was about to cry, but she held it back. “Right.”

Maggie wanted to hug her, but she wasn’t sure she had the strength. Instead, she looked at the little rectangle next to the cylinder. There was writing on it.

SUBJECT G-7: ‘JORDYN’

STATUS: NORMAL

She sighed. “Good luck, Jordyn. You're gonna need it.”

“I think we went the wrong way,” Hex said. “We shouldn't stay here.”

“Agreed. Let's go.”

They turned and exited back the way they came, into the room with all the windows and the sleeping person. They were going to just cross through back into the elevator when something on one of the windows caught Maggie's eye. She stopped walking.

“What is it?” Hex whispered.

“That window has writing on it. It says our numbers.”

“So?”

“Any information could be helpful, Hex. We know literally nothing about the outside world, or honestly, ourselves. It's worth it.”

“What if the guy wakes up?”

“I'll take him out.”

Hex bit her lip, hesitating, but ultimately, she nodded. “Okay.”

The two of them silently crept over to the wall of windows, focusing on the one at the bottom. The person in the chair – who they could see now was a man – didn’t react. Sure enough, the window displayed both of the numbers Maggie and Hex had on the back of their necks. They started to read.

Subject G-5

Power already manifesting in early development stage. Subject has a pair of wings growing from her back. Whether or not they will actually allow for flight remains to be seen. Named ‘Magpie.’

(I will not allow a subject with a purely cosmetic power to waste my time. Is there any way to ensure that her wings will work? - Andreas)

(With a little bit of genetic engineering, we can give her super-dense muscles for some added strength. It’s not a guarantee, but it should help! - George)

(Do it. - Andreas)

Maggie rubbed her bicep absent-mindedly. She thought she was this strong from her own merit, but it was just Father – or ‘Andreas,’ if she had to guess which one was him – tampering with her even more. The idea made her feel sick. She kept reading.

Post-birth, everything is falling into expected parameters. Habilitation to continue.

Subject has a particularly rebellious personality, and is not very receptive to orders or Andreas’ explanation of why she is missing her memories. Programming may have failed to set in properly for whatever reason. Continuing to study.

Subject appears to have become quite attached to G-6 post introduction, and vice versa. Whether or not this is a good or bad thing for the program remains to be seen.

Subject excelling at locomotive and combat training. Subject’s aggressive personality, while difficult to control at times, is proving very effective in battle. Expected to pass exam with ease.

Subject interrupted one of G-6’s punishments, assaulting Andreas and threatening him. Her protectiveness of G-6 has proven to be a liability. No solution to this has been found as of yet. Correction chip was effective in subduing subject. Punishment to be carried out.

‘Correction chip?’ That was what knocked her out back then? Maggie shuddered. Just how much had Andreas tinkered with her and Hex’s bodies?

That was where her entry ended, and Hex’s entry began. She continued on.

Subject G-6

Subject was pulled out of formation tank early due to unexpected complications that would have otherwise resulted in her death. As a result, her body and brain were not fully formed, leaving her in a child-like state. Estimated physical age to be around 12 years old. Termination was considered, but subject displayed a strong telekinetic power that could effectively make up for her underdeveloped body. Named ‘Hex.’ Proceeding with habilitation.

(Well, this throws a wrench into things. How are we going to explain this to G-5? - George)

(Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. - Andreas)

Upon introduction, subject bonded with G-5. Cohabitation seems as though it will be successful. Continuing habilitation and beginning locomotive training soon.

Subject is struggling with locomotive training due to development issues, but seems determined to continue. Programming seems to have settled in well.

Locomotive performance has plateaued at an unsatisfying result. Punishments to ensue if the subject shows no more progress.

That was the end of Hex’s notes. The last one made Maggie want to punch the window, but she held herself back. What kind of a monster would resort to… to doing what Maggie had witnessed, just because a child wasn’t doing good enough?!

“Maggie, your wings!” Hex whisper-yelled.

“Ngh?”

It was too late. In Maggie’s anger, she’d failed to notice that her wings had puffed up, getting ready to extend so she could fly. In doing so, they’d bumped into the guy in the chair and woke him up. The two stared at each other.

He started scrambling. “H-Hey! What-”

Hex’s eyes widened, and the man was suddenly flung across the room, slamming into the far wall hard enough for Maggie to hear an audible crack. For a second, she thought he might have died, but he was still squirming around. She could use this.

Maggie let go of Hex and limped over to the man, gingerly kneeling down and grabbing him by the lapels. 

“Wh-what…? M… Magpie?”

“How do we get out of here?” she demanded. “Tell me, or I’m gonna start breaking things.”

“I… I don’t… what?”

From the look of it, he probably had a pretty bad concussion. Maggie sighed and tried again, speaking slower.

“How. Do. We. Get. Out. Of. Here?”

It finally seemed to click for the guy. About a hundred different emotions flickered across his face; most of them some variation of fear.

“Y-you… You can’t.”

Maggie snarled. “Why not?!”

“Th-they’ll find you. No matter where you go. They’ll track your chips and bring you back.”

“Chips? Like the correction chip?”

His eyes widened. “How do you…”

Maggie remembered when Andreas used it on her. She remembered exactly where the pain came from; where it was the most intense. “They’re in the backs of our necks, aren’t they?”

The man glanced from side to side, like he was trying to come up with a lie. “I…”

Whatever. That was good enough. They could figure out the elevator on their own. Maggie finished the guy off with the strongest jab to the face she could muster in her weakened state.

“What do we do now?” Hex asked as Maggie limped back over.

“We’ve got to get these chips out. They’re in the backs of our necks. If we don’t get rid of them, Andreas will be able to find us no matter how far we run.”

Hex grimaced. “This is gonna hurt, isn’t it?”

“Yep. But that’s what we’ve trained for.”

—

With the help of a first aid kit and a shard of glass from a broken cup, Maggie and Hex cut the back of each other’s necks open, and managed to fish out the horrible chip. There was a lot of whimpering, crying, and shouting involved, but they got through it in the end, stitching each other up just as they were trained for. Maggie felt sick having to hurt Hex like that, but it was the only way for them to truly be safe from Andreas once they got out. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to ensure that man never got his hands on them ever again.

Maggie wiped her eyes and sighed, trying to ignore the stinging pain in the back of her neck. “Are you ready to go?”

Hex nodded, her bottom lip still quivering. “Yeah.”

They stumbled over to the elevator, holding onto each other for support. Maggie eyed the buttons on the wall wearily. Nothing to it but luck, she supposed. She pressed the one at the top and the elevator started moving again.

“We’ve got this,” she whispered in Hex’s ear. “We’re gonna be okay. No one’s gonna lay a finger on us anymore.”

Hex’s nose crinkled, but a smile played at her lips. “Your breath smells bad.”

Maggie snorted out a laugh. “Gimme a break. I haven’t brushed my teeth in two days. You’re just lucky we had time for me to shower, or I’d probably still reek of urine.”

Hex chuckled. “Yeah. I didn’t wanna say anything when I found you, but wow, you didn’t smell good.”

“Aren’t I lucky to have such a caring little sister.” Maggie grinned.

The elevator reached its destination and the doors opened, revealing a room neither of them had ever seen before. It was wide and open, with a carpeted floor and several chairs sitting against the walls. Maggie couldn’t ascertain what its purpose was. On the far end of the room from the elevator, the wall was made entirely of glass, and a dim, cool light was drifting in from the other side. There was a door in the glass. It called to her; an odd tug in her gut urging her towards it. Somehow she knew; this was the way to the outside world. They were free.

She charged forward, filled with renewed strength, and slammed the door open. Cold air slammed into them right back.

There was a man in her way. His eyes widened at the sight of her face, then he looked to Hex and they widened even further. He wasn’t one of the familiar faces from the facility. This guy was just… a regular person. Huh.

Maggie wrapped her arms around Hex, flapped her wings, and finally took proper flight for the first time in her life. Cold wind rushed in her hair and through her feathers. Hex shrieked in delight from the thrill. The world stretched out below her and the sky opened up above her, little pinpricks of light twinkling in her eyes as freedom filled her lungs. She wouldn’t trade it for the world.

—

ONE WEEK LATER

If there was one thing Maggie had learned about the outside world in the brief week since they’d escaped, it was that the outside world was nothing like what she and Hex were used to. There were no more steadily provided meals, no convenient clothing that was always cleaned when they needed it, no directions or schedule or order. It was just her and her little sister against the world.

Hex’s stomach rumbled loud enough for Maggie to hear it. Maggie clenched her fists against the guilt that washed over her. She was supposed to be taking care of her, but she was failing miserably. She could barely even take care of herself. Hex was being so good about it, not complaining, always staying strong, but they couldn’t keep going like this. They were losing weight. Every night they almost froze to death, huddled up together wherever they could find even a modicum of shelter. What little food they could find was few and far between; pitiful scraps scavenged from bins or off the floor. Maggie had broken into a building to get them some new clothes the night they escaped, but it wasn’t going to last. She just had no idea how the outside world worked, frankly. Not for the first time, she wondered if escaping was a bad idea after all. 

Not everything was hopeless, though. Maggie had an idea that might help them get a little bit more to eat. She’d been doing her best to study up on what life was like out here; watching people from the shadows, reading whatever ‘newspapers’ she could get her hands on, and she reckoned she might have stumbled onto something promising.

A little ways away from their little hideout, there was a big plot of empty land, and every day, a bunch of guys would show up and start putting something together. A new building, if she had to guess. The way Maggie figured, if she could help the guys out a little bit, they might be inclined to help her out, too. A proper meal, some new clothes, maybe even a comfortable place to rest their heads. It was worth a shot, at least.

So, one day, Maggie and Hex donned their sunglasses – the best way they could figure to hide their identities, lest Andreas hear something and come looking – and made their way over to the yard.

The men were hard at work when they got there, each buried in their own task. Maggie walked up and, summing all of her courage, called out to them.

“Uh, e- excuse me!”

A few of the men stopped what they were doing and looked their way, before glancing to one man in particular. He stood up from where he was crouched near a steadily growing brick wall and raised a hand to the others. They got back to work, and the man walked over to the two of them.

“Hi, can I help you?” he asked, taking off his own sunglasses and wiping the sweat from under the weird hat he and the rest of them were wearing. His tan skin was speckled with pockmarks, and a dark, full stubble had taken up most of his jaw. He was quite handsome, actually. Maggie’s stomach fluttered a little as he looked her up and down, glancing at her wings, though that also could have been from hunger.

“Yes, u-um, actually, I was wondering if I could help you.” Maggie clenched her fists, letting out an awkward laugh. This felt weird. “I, uh, I’m pretty strong. I could lift some things, i-if you need. Hex here has telekinesis, too, so… Um, she could also help.”

The man frowned. “You want… a job?”

Maggie didn’t know what that word meant, but she nodded. “If that’s what it takes to get some food, then yes.”

There was a pause as the man analysed her. “You guys are in some trouble, aren’t you?”

“Please,” Hex suddenly blurted out. “We’re… we’re just hungry. If there’s anything we can do to earn some food, please. Let us help.”

The man bit his lip, glancing to the side. After a few seconds, he looked back at Maggie. “Alright, I’ll tell you what. I can’t let you guys work on the site for… well, for obvious reasons, but if you come with me, I can get you two something to eat, and we can sit down and talk this through. The company I work for is owned by the Heroes’ Union, so we should be able to work something out and get you guys some help. Sound good?”

Half of that meant literally nothing to Maggie, but at this point, she would take anything. She nodded.

“Alright,” the man said, holding out his hand. “The name’s Diego, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

—

Back in the present, Maggie smiled at the memory of her and Diego’s first meeting as she pulled her shirt back on and struggled to get her wings through the holes. It had been almost two years since then, and Maggie felt lucky for that chance encounter every single day.

Diego had taken them back to this very apartment, gave them their first warm meal in over a week, let them shower, gave them a change of clothes and heard them out; every last detail of their fucked-up story. At the time, Maggie hadn’t known how much to omit, so she just told him everything. If he’d been anyone else, that could have ended terribly for them, but thankfully, they’d run into one of the few genuinely good people in this city. He was the only one that knew the whole truth; that Maggie and Hex were nothing more than unwilling body doubles for a woman that died five years ago; that Andreas de Vygon was playing God below the precinct, creating life and forcing it to do his bidding; that Seven wasn’t just a superhero working for the police, but the next body double down the line. As far as any of his bosses knew, Diego had just taken in some powered people in need of help, and provided him the resources to do so. If not for his generosity, Maggie was sure she and Hex would have died on the streets, clueless and alone.

Not wanting to be a burden, Maggie once again begged Diego to let her work at the construction site, and finally, he acquiesced, promising to teach her how things worked. These days, it was what she spent most of her time doing, saving the company money by using her wings to do the high-up work that anyone else would need safety equipment for. It was hard work for sure, but it was rewarding, knowing that she was helping earn to support herself and her sister.

It was about a year after they started living together that this… thing that had been dancing between them finally caught alight. Maggie’d had time to learn about the world, about people, about relationships and how things worked. She’d seen them on TV, read about them in books, figured out how to determine the good from the bad by scouring the internet, and finally, made her move on Diego. They’d been sharing a few drinks after Hex went to bed, watching a movie together on the couch, and Maggie just went for it, grabbing his face and kissing him then and there when the moment presented itself.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe she was just pent up from literally never receiving sexual touch from another person in her life, but things progressed very quickly from there and they took it straight to the bedroom. Safe to say, it was a night she would never forget.

They had a proper conversation about it the morning after, where Diego admitted that he’d felt the same way for a while, but wasn’t comfortable making a move considering that, for a lot of their relationship up to that point, Maggie was entirely dependent on him, and considering how little she knew about… anything, the dynamic would have been a little weird. But now that she’d started working, now that she had her own money and a half-decent understanding of the world, and now that he knew she was actually super interested in him, too, he figured they could give this thing a shot. And the rest was history.

Jordyn’s appearance on the streets had scared her. She knew it was only a matter of time before she came after their fragile peace, smashing through their glass walls and leaving Maggie and Hex nothing more than a bad memory in Andreas’ mind, splattered across Diego’s floor. That tiny speck that once floated in the green had grown into a monster, and Maggie had no choice but to get ahead of it.

To that end, and much to Diego’s protest, Maggie had gone hunting. What she needed was equipment. Weaponry that could stand up to a killer of Maggie’s own calibre. Sure, Maggie’d had more time to build her muscles, and she was undoubtedly one of the strongest people alive already, thanks to Andreas’ tinkering, but Jordyn had the backing of the entire police force behind her. Maggie needed to be smart.

So, she slaughtered two SWAT officers and stole their guns. Then she used that sniper rifle to shoot Jordyn down. Only, she underestimated the strength of her armour, and only succeeded in pissing Andreas off. For a month, she laid low, hiding out in the apartment and waiting for things to cool off. And once they did, she tried again.

Jordyn was no pushover, though, and gave her a real run for her money. Maggie got her down though. Got her down, and was seconds away from pulling the trigger and ending it, when that pathetic, terrified look on her face made Maggie freeze. 

Did she make the right choice in letting her little sister live? Who could say. The only thing to do was move forward, and take every day as it came. Maggie and Hex were alive, and they were free, and that was the only thing that truly mattered.

“Maggie?”

“Hm?” She blinked, returning to her body. Hex had been calling to her. “What’s up?”

“We were trying to ask what you wanted from McDonalds. Get lost in your head again?”

Maggie smiled. “Yeah. Thinkin’ about stuff.”

“Well, you’d better hurry up and order, birdie, or I’ll get you a 20 pack of chicken nuggets again,” Diego joked.

Maggie let out a mock gasp. “You wouldn’t dare! Making me eat my own kin; shame on you!”

Diego laughed, and Maggie basked in the sound. It was times like these that it felt like everything would turn out alright after all.

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @idkwhattodowiththisaltiamsorry

@iamheretohurt @anoyedartist @dontyoubleedoutonme @seastarblue @lettherebepain

@bacillusinfection

wahoo bird lady backstory!!!

i do really love maggie as a character, but in truth, she doesn't actually get all that much screentime in the current outline of the plot. granted, that outline is in the literal haziest terms imaginable, so that's open to change lol. or maybe i'll write a maggie spinoff once this is done

only 2 more chapters until the end of this arc! next up, we reconvene with Steve and see the results of his little investigation hehehehehehehehehehehehehehe (evil but cute laugh)

thanks for reading! let me know what you thought in a comment or reblog! It's v appreciated :> Ciao!

[girl4music]

That’s it. Anyone with the “me and my own” ideology will get clapped back.

People that actually care to help people without asking for anything in return will also get their due.

That’s just the way of the Universe.

When you’re already well off, why do you need to be accounted for? Harris specifically was talking about who wasn’t. She was addressing the poor because she knew that’s where things needed to change the most.

The people she didn’t address are not going to be impacted in any negative way. Their lives will stay relatively the same. She didn’t speak to you because she didn’t need to because you’re fine as you are.

On the other hand, Trump is also addressing the poor and minorities. Speaking directly to them. But not with love and care. With hatred and revenge. The opposite.’

He wants to make things worse for them and now he can. So if you voted for him or you didn’t even vote at all - it’s on you why things are going to be much worse from now on. And if you think you won’t be negatively impacted by it because Trump is on your side…

Think again. Because incompetency impacts everyone.

No Harris wasn’t promising the rich and the majorities something. But that didn’t mean she was out to get you. That didn’t mean that she wanted to hurt you.

She simply saw it as you already had what you needed.

There were many others that did not.

She chose to address them.

Look for EVERYONE to live comfortable lives, then everyone has also got to learn to share and to be a community. Giving and getting is a transaction between each other. This is normal. This is natural. This is the way it should be. Greed and hoarding wealth doesn’t really help anyone in the long run and that’s not well understood in America because they’ve lived an entire history through a culture of taking from others. From theft. They never question it not because they’re dumb but because they don’t realize it this is how it’s always been and how it’s always been has always being wrong.

Being afraid of community and socialism. Taught that it’s inherently bad for them and to always look out for themselves and their own first. It’s just not The Way.

Having a black woman as President for the first time would have been revolutionary for them. it would have been a start to setting things right because they’ve never been right. Keeping to tradition doesn’t always mean better because that tradition could be awful. All of this I’m writing right now only sounds so bad because it’s coming from someone that doesn’t live in America but still has lived through a Western culture that’s majorly the same and has never understood it.

See I’m a Westerner but I don’t understand Western culture and I never really have. It’s like I was born with the soul or someone Eastern. Someone whose worldview of philosophy is inherently non-dual because when I look at a person - regardless of what kind of person they are or might be - I don’t see a difference.

We all want to live and thrive and prosper but so many of us have an understanding that goes against that goal just by virtue of “well, what do I get out of it?”

You get what you’ve always had. The means to survive. If you believe that’s not enough then I don’t know what to tell you. It’s more than enough for those that don’t currently have it and are fucking desperate for it.

Bottom line is you’ve got to give a little - to sacrifice or compromise on something - to set the balance right.

Harris was the right person to lead to be able to do this. Or at least make the attempt to. What you have now - with Trump - is a lesson. And I hope you learn it well.

Hatred will never make anything better for anyone. All it does it makes it much much much worse for everyone.

You can call this “virtue-signalling” or being “morally superior” if you want. I don’t care. No, America is not my home. No, I couldn’t vote. It doesn’t matter to me.

But I still very much care about the situation because I am a human being. And I honestly think that’s all that’s needed to do the right thing at the end of the day. If you care about something or somebody other than yourself.

You know politics is whatever but people have forgotten how to be a fucking person and that’s very concerning.

You can play heroes vs villains to your dying day and see how much you’ve “gained” out of doing it then.

Rant over.

White conservative America will vote for whiteness and patriarchy.

White conservative America would rather have Putin in the White House before Kamala Harris.

[givehimthemedicine]

lumax as a premature relationship

first: I don't mean any of this like "the show shouldn't have done it". what I mean is that with lumax, ST is telling the story of a relationship whose flaw (if it can be summarized into just one) is that it happened too soon.

probably out of comparison to milkvan, and the delay of canon byler, lumax gets lauded as the wholesome ship based on true friendship that slowly blossomed into romance. but that's not accurate. Lucas is a good friend to Max, but Max isn't to Lucas, and it certainly wasn't slow.

even platonic lumax should've been a slow simmer but was a speed run

the newly-introduced Max has high walls, which suggests anyone who wants to get close to her will have to take a slow approach. but then before you know it, Lucas is just kinda. in there.

yes, it takes him most of the season to earn Max's trust, which sounds long, but isn't. the first time Lucas and Max ever spoke was Halloween, Wednesday. the arcade I think is Saturday, and the junkyard is the day after that? so she broaches the darkest subject in her life... 4 days after meeting him. with like. zero prompting. "that fog looks cool! btw my parents are divorced and..."

Max's walls are only so high because of how badly she wants to let someone in, so it's understandable that the right person could get in relatively fast. I have no problem with that trope. sucker, in fact. but opening up here was CRAZY for someone with huge trust issues:

you have to be careful who you confide in about abuse because if your confidant mishandles it so that your abuser finds out you told, things could get MUCH worse. she simply doesn't know Lucas well enough to know he won't accidentally put her in more danger (which actually he already did: by following her out of the arcade after she said not to, and again by showing up at her house).

this talk was moments before Max saw a demodog, meaning she's gone along with the supernatural story without any evidence. I'm not criticizing that; she's a kid who likes fantasy, wants friends really bad, and isn't above playing make-believe in order to be included. what bothers me is she confided in Lucas about her abuse BEFORE seeing a shred of proof this entire outing wasn't the elaborate prank she feared it was. in the infinitely more realistic scenario that these boys are just messing with her, and will ditch her after they've had their laugh, this could so easily have led to a much darker situation at home.

the timing of that conversation was so objectively, stupidly unsafe that I'd call it bad writing if it was an isolated incident. but, self-preservation instincts so terrible they can sometimes be better explained as elf-sabotage - that's just classic Max.

romantic lumax seemed kind of forced because as a new kid in town, all Max wanted was friendship

the snow ball is about a month after everything else. Max and Lucas don't seem to be a couple yet. it doesn't even look like they're dates. so to kiss him suddenly felt like another jump way ahead. he sure looked surprised.

I guess a month is a while when you're 13, but the romantic aspect felt rushed to me because the whole season is full of indications that Max only wanted friendship. and that's made super clear by her constant focus on group friendship. her dialogue throughout 2 is consistently group-oriented.

her behavior is too: as of Halloween, Max has Lucas and Dustin in her pocket. if she's crushing on Lucas, or enjoys attention from boys in general, why on earth would she go out on such a limb seeking Mike's acceptance after she already has what she wants?

because that's not what she wants most. she wants to belong to the whole group, like she keeps saying. (I'm going to ramble much more about this theme in another post soon)

Max continues to prioritize friendship / group activities even after lumax becomes a thing

a few examples:

lumax's idea of "romantic time" can include their friends, in contrast to milkvan prioritizing alone time.

Max (and Lucas) drop 1 on 1 time (washing out his eyes is a scene that's an easy kiss opportunity for your standard tv teen couple) in favor of a long trek in the sun to build a radio tower so Dustin can talk to a girl she doesn't believe exists. Max and Lucas do skip off together, but again in contrast to El and Mike who leave early to make out, they only leave because it's time to go home.

^that's the same Max who tagged along and earnestly participated in armoring up a junked schoolbus to fight monsters without any proof.

despite downsizing for trailer living, she kept the Michael Myers mask in memory of the first night she felt like a part of the party.

unlike others who yell for their loved one from the UD, Max calls out for Lucas and Dustin.

her life-saving montage includes many platonic as well as romantic moments.

alright killjoy, if Max only wanted friendship, how's it make sense that SHE initiated all the romantic stuff?

ST is not a universe where grabbing someone's hand in a tense moment is necessarily an indicator of romance. Dustin said he could feel "the electricity" when Lucas and Max held hands on the bus, but then, Dustin also ships stobin.

the kiss, I could actually come closest to calling a writing misstep because.. it wasn't written. it feels forced because it was, as a last-minute unscripted thing - not because the Duffers decided it fit Max's characterization, but purely because they thought it was funny how uncomfortable Sadie was with filming her first kiss. <- this interview is actually so gross.

but, that kiss is canon regardless of how I feel about bts lore, and it fits and it works in the sense that this is the story of a flawed relationship. Max initiated it despite not being ready for it, simply because she thought she was.

Max's childhood fears about bad relationships have made her overeager to prove a good relationship can exist. so the first time a boy is actually kind to her, she's like OH SEE LOVE IS REAL I DONT HAVE TO GROW UP TO BE MY MOM LET'S GOOOO and hurls herself into something she's not mature enough to realize she's too immature to execute well.

if that kiss was so misguided, how's it still Max's happiest memory?

there's no conflict there.

she grew up around terrible relationships and probably feared she was destined for the same, so to find a nice boy like Lucas must have given her such incredible relief and hope. in her young mind, that dance was her happily ever after. you never forget how good a moment like that felt, regardless of how well reality lived up to it.

that said. can I point out that reality hasn't lived up to it?

Max choosing the moment lumax began, as opposed to any moment from the year-and-change of its actual contents... might be less good the more you think about it. like. she doesn't describe this as her favorite memory. she says it's the time she was happiest. in other words, she hasn't been as happy before or since.

that kiss marked lumax's moment of greatest potential, which I think is what made Max so happy. not the relationship she's actually gotten so far.

mmkay and then what do I do about the fact Max STILL wants to date Lucas?

once again, Max is the one who makes things overtly romantic by doodling a picture of them holding hands. but as you may know from my recent lumax diatribe, I don't see how the ship is seaworthy at present.

so the top layer of my interpretation is that Max is still operating under the same ideas that caused her to kiss Lucas in the first place. she's not thinking about how it'll work; she just wants. this is fast-forward Max again. it's a similar moment of hope to the snow ball kiss. romance with Lucas once again looks like her lifeline out of an awful situation.

the layer underneath that is less fluffy:

Max might've accepted this invite in as much an "I might die tonight so it won't hurt to make some lighthearted plans for the future, he did just save my life so why hurt his feelings for no reason" way as anything else. I don't mean her affection is fake. she just might consider the movie date a pipe dream.

consider that her attic monologue happens only a couple minutes after the doodle, and shows that her suicidal ideations are barely behind her. like, the wanting-to-die part is just bait at this point I think, but the deserving-to-die sentiment still feels fresh and sincere.

consider that Max so recently scolded Lucas for assuring her things would work out because that's "never true" in her life... and now here she is drawing a doodle of things working out.

sure, this could be a girl who's thinking "yes!!! ✅ Attending Event! I genuinely expect to be alive, deserving of love, and in the mood for romance this Friday!" but to me, it honestly seems more like a girl thinking "God, I wish."

btw the doodle would've been perfect as the advent of romantic lumax, imo

if lumax had grown slowly out of a healthy mutual friendship, Max really could be ready right here.

imagine: s2, Max earns her place in the party, but to grow especially close friends with Lucas takes a year; the bus talk happens in s3. we can tell their friendship is starting to want to become more. depression interferes in s4. but their bond helps pierce the fog, and they protect each other from Vecna/Jason.

you hit me with the movie doodle after THAT buildup? adorable, precious, showstopping. at that point, that date could've been their happily ever after. <- this is what people think it is already!

lumax is one of many flawed relationships (and that's okay)

another sign that lumax is supposed to be flawed is its place in the larger pattern of flawed relationships: parallels with other characters and ships.

Max and El in particular share a similar stumble into their relationships: both bond with the first boy to treat them with kindness, and throw themselves into a relationship that actually costs them the friendship they should've had with that boy.

and all the party relationships illustrate different friendship/romance progressions:

lumax is the story of a romance that should've been a friendship first/also and isn't going to succeed til it gets this right

byler will be the story of a romance that was a friendship first and will succeed by remaining one also (or so the themes and patterns suggest)

mileven is the story of a romance that should've been a friendship instead.

literally all of ST's relationships, including the endgame romances, have flaws that are intentional and meant to be explored. in fact that's like... most of what the show is. and most fans can readily admit that about all of them, until they get to lumax, which they think is uniquely meant to be perfect and is flawed only in its writing. this view strips lumax from its broader context and ignores many lessons it's there to teach us about ST's overarching themes.

understand: my aim in pointing out lumax's flaws is not to persuade anyone to enjoy it less or stop shipping it!

flaws don't mean you aren't allowed to like a thing. if anything, it makes them way more interesting to discuss, and more compelling to root for/against. we don't have to pretend our characters are perfect in order to enjoy, ship, and learn from them.

more on all this coming soon in another post exploring different types of love in the Max plot!

[aninkwellofnectar]

as a chronic cynical misanthrope i'm starting to get why romance novels are so popular.

[worstloki]

there is a difference between being born to a throne, maliciously vying for a throne, stealing a throne, and having a throne thrust upon you when you are already in the midst of an identity crisis. And I fear Loki's place in the line of succession has people unable to differentiate between any of these

[black--sun]

His brow furrows when Shiro doesn’t immediately deny that he’s going to be killed. Even though Ichigo started the conversation down this road, he’s come to expect certain things from Shiro—like his inability to accept that someone is capable of getting the better of him. Not denying it sounds too much like acceptance. But then Shiro distracts him and he huffs a soft breath. “You think you had to tell me that? I know you would.” Because he’s atrocious at letting anyone go, never mind someone he’s been in love with for years. “Ghost…sex? I don’t know, I might be—” He blinks and looks over, and then squints and changes his answer. “I guess you’d better not die, because I don’t know what that entails. I’m gonna need some guidelines before I agree. Maybe a demonstration.”

Ichigo scoffs. He’s so tempted to punch Shiro in the arm for being a shit. Or bite him. He gives a dry, “You didn’t sound like you had any doubt five seconds ago.” But Ichigo doesn’t believe him anyway. That quick answer was far too certain. But he waves it off. Shiro looks a little freaked out and that’s not what Ichigo intended. He didn’t intend anything really. “I’m not trying to take it back.” Besides, Shiro let him keep the knife, and he’s far more attached to it these days.

Ichigo narrows his eyes again. “Like I’d give you my work details.” Shiro can put in the leg work to find out himself. He’s more than capable. “I give more exact and detailed information about obscure texts in other languages. Particularly archaic pieces if you really want to know.” He suspects Shiro is just trying to give him a hard time. He does modern stuff too though. “You know exactly what I was in last night.” Shiro mostly, but also Yuu. And now he’s thinking about how perfectly his hands seem to fit around Shiro’s hips.

Shiro sounds like he’s disagreeing, but he just confirms Ichigo’s suspicions and Ichigo snorts. Maybe he should try that. His life might be less boring during the day. Except he’s not entirely sure how to lure someone into a dressing room. Besides Shiro.

It’s pretty hard for Ichigo to argue when he just asked to go through Shiro’s closet and he’s standing in Shiro’s clothes now, he manages it though. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, Your regular fashion sense is as good as your drunk and high fashion sense. I’m just using a different tone.” Except it’s not even true, he likes Shiro’s slutty outfits more than could possibly be considered healthy. Shiro’s shirt literally looks like it’s about to fall off. All Ichigo can think about is how much of his shoulder he could get into his mouth.

Ichigo’s brows raise. “Are you coming back here afterward? That seems like a bad idea.” Once the head is off Shiro’s snake, he thinks it’s best to clear out until the writhing stops and Shiro can pick the reins back up. But Shiro is in charge and on top for a reason. He must make the right decisions. Ichigo starts for the garage. “I’ll check your cars.”

"About my- ?" He almost says boyfriend, but stops himself and shrugs. "I dunno. I guess I did. It's hard not to wonder if the cop you're bangin', who clearly knows who the biggest drug dealer in town is, is just being a cop. Under cover or whatever. Maybe it just looked less suspicious to be upfront about it when I asked him if he was a cop. You were worried about that girl in my bathroom, but the cop would be the right way to do it." Shiro's aware of his own weaknesses. A hot guy with that added element of forbidden and dangerous that being a police officer brings certainly got his attention.

He tosses his phone onto the bed after sending Ichigo the lady's contact info. He knows Ichigo would treat her right if he contacts her at all.

That laugh sounds uncomfortable. Part of him wishes they could dispense with the trying they're both doing, the other part of him is grateful for the efforts. "It's true, I been bad at not giving you what you want from the very start." Shirt? But it only takes him a second, because when he moved out of his apartment he found that shirt. He thought about giving it to Renji to give back to Ichigo, but he couldn't quite make himself do it. "That was your favorite?"

He gets his answer the moment Ichigo looks at him. They know each other well enough for him to read Ichigo just fine. It's flattering. Then the verbal answer Ichigo gives is weirdly touching. It's very sweet, and maybe too honest, but he finds himself liking it anyway. If they can't be together, maybe they can at least be on good terms. Even not being partners, he likes Ichigo's company.

He snorts. "Of course I did, I look good in or out of anything." But being put to bed sounds nice. Warm and cozy and comfortable sounds nice. He is tired, mentally at least. He offers up a little half smirk at the reassurance. "Let's get outta here. Where do you wanna go?"

[fromtheseventhhell]

I also find it funny that fandom will only accept Lyanna being her non-conforming, wild self in the context of saying that Arya isn't meant to be pretty; Any other day we get back-to-back posts about how Lyanna is actually super traditionally feminine cause she sniffled at a song once, so she's actually more like Sansa. Instead of constantly speaking on Arya and Lyanna, how about you guys reflect on why your standards of beauty for women are attached to how well they perform feminity within the patriarchy?