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pbear · 1 year ago

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Ranking The Black Bulls

I am so high after finishing the Black Clover anime which is why I'm making this. This is definitely a personal list and I just want a way for me to talk about these characters because I do love all of them.

Also, some spoilers.

16. Nacht and his demons

Little screen time and he’s extremely suspicious. Also if you keep going around being condescending to everyone I won’t like you.

I do not know his backstory which could definitely explain things but based on what he gets in the anime, I don’t care for him.

Pros are that he’s a pretty asshole and his tiny demons are cute.

15. Liebe

Lack of screen time gets you closer to the bottom.

That backstory was making me tear up though.

He gained anti-magic but how??? It kind of just happened.

He has a place in the found family whether he likes it or not.

14. Gordon Agrippa

I like that he just wants friends despite everyone thinking he’s creepy and being part of a family that studies curses.

He gets forgotten a lot :(

Actually a character who comes to have a healthy relationship with his family

He is shown to be kind of a stalker though which docks points. There's people being unreasonably scared of you and then there's keeping journals on everyone in the squad and making dolls of each of them.

13. Zora Ideale

Gets almost no character development after his introduction. They have forgotten this man which is a shame because he was introduced as a very interesting and menacing person.

His relationship with his father is very sweet

Sassy

Zora, you will succumb to the found family.

12. Henry Legolant

Him going from a possible ghost to a true member of the Black Bulls is great. I love that the squad finds a way for him to be around them even with his curse

He’s very nice too.

Doesn’t get a lot after the Elven Invasion arc. All you see is him occasionally sitting in a box.

His magic is so epic when it gets used. I love the Raging Black Bull Formation.

11. Vanessa Enoteca

Doesn’t actually get too much to do after the Forest of Witches arc.

I love that she’s basically the squad’s big sister.

Her magic and the red thread of fate are super cool although Rouge kind of becomes her main power.

10. Grey

I really enjoyed the episodes that focused on her a lot and how she wants to overcome her shyness for the rest of the Black Bulls.

Her backstory is fairly basic but the reveal that she met Gauche beforehand and he saved her was so good. I already loved them and now I love them even more.

Also, Grey, Gordon, and Gauche are absolutely a trio. Them defending the base from the Eye of the Midnight Sun was great.

9. Secre Swallowtail

Her plot with Lumiere is very sweet and gets you to like her very quickly.

Lumiere helping her develop her magic that she thinks is useless is something I love too.

I like that she’s an example that your magic is what you make of it. What it becomes is so cool and actually very useful.

The fact that even after her seal is undone, she still chills as a bird on Asta's head.

Also, I think it's interesting that Luck is the one who came up with the name Nero and she agreed to it back in the earlier episodes.

8. Gauche Adlai

This man would be ten times more attractive without his sister complex. Fortunately, his gag isn’t his only character aspect (although it’s a fairly big one).

I actually thought he was going to be super unimportant and then he got his own arc early on which shocked me.

It was nice that he began wanting to protect more people than just Marie. I actually started to enjoy it when he showed up.

His magic is cool and powerful. I think it was one of the first magic types introduced that wasn't more elemental. I want to know how he got the magic item in his eye.

Berates everyone but is literally just as insane as the rest of them.

7. Charmy Pappitson

Slow clap for her magic literally being a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Her sheep cooks are cute too.

Obsessed with food (same) and I thought it might be a gag that makes her annoying, but she has other aspects that make her interesting and she’s a side character so I’m not asking that she be incredibly deep.

Her crush on Yuno is funny and I love that her magic is actually super strong when she tries. I never thought one of the crush situations would be Rill -> Charmy -> Yuno

6. Noelle Silva

Seeing her growth from the start of the series is amazing.

Tsundere but manages to not be super annoying with it.

Her spells are awesome and every time she learns a new one you want to cheer for her.

Valkyrie Armor is so pretty.

5. Asta

The fact that he inspires everyone around him is incredible.

I think that he’s the final piece of the Black Bulls that pulls them together and brings them from a band of hooligans to a true found family.

Has a surprising number of girls in love with him. Yet he is only dedicated to Sister Lily which I do find funny.

He does a great job at being a protagonist you want to root for which is important in a show like this. Everyone likes him so how can you not like him?

4. Finral Roulacase

There is something to be said about characters that are still nice even though the world keeps throwing things at them.

Finral’s family was never nice to him yet he still came out a kind person and that’s beautiful. The fact that he still cares for Langris really shows that.

Although he tends to run away from his problems, he works to face them as the series goes on and become stronger to fight alongside his friends.

I love his hairstyle change so much for some reason. He's so cute.

3. Yami Sukehiro

The man who adopted like thirteen kids.

I really enjoyed how his experience as a foreigner led him to create a squad that wouldn’t be bound by status or discrimination.

He literally picks up new members randomly off the street.

Despite being seemingly irresponsible compared to other Captains, he cares for his squad and wants them to be better and surpass their limits. He also knows what they are capable of and what they can handle.

2. Magna Swing

He's one of the most passionate of the Black Bulls and that makes him stand out despite him not being the strongest.

He does have magic but a lot of the time his abilities pale in comparison to the others’.

Even then, he tries to get stronger and I love that about him.

I also really like that his fire magic has a baseball theme. It makes it more unique because fire magic is so common.

I love watching him and Luck be dumbasses with each other.

More attractive with his hair down during the Elven Invasion.

Luck Voltia

Easy favorite. I cannot explain why exactly but he is my favorite.

I eat up any screen time he gets.

Luck: *murders someone in a fight*

Me: I love you so much

He’s crazy in wanting to fight almost everyone that comes his way but it’s shown that he is smart in battle too.

I like how everyone else has a case for their grimoire and he just straps it to his chest.

#black clover #asta black clover #charmy pappitson #zora ideale #nacht faust #liebe black clover #luck voltia #finral roulacase #yami sukehiro #noelle silva #magna swing #secre swallowtail #vanessa enoteca #henry legolant #gordon agrippa #grey black clover #gauche adlai #the black bulls #rankings

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trialssam · 5 months ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/trialssam/755982983333347329?source=share

Hi, I saw this post you reblogged and didn't want to derail it or give you/the op unwelcome notes to deal with so I thought it'd be better to ask this way. I felt like the post felt kind of contradictory and selective to me, and I'm curious to hear your thoughts on it?

First, I won't defend Dean keeping Gadreel a secret from Sam after Sam was possessed, that was wrong and it led to Kevin's death. Full stop, he was in the wrong for concealing that. But Dean didn't "let" Gadreel possess him... He told Gadreel that it was Sam's choice and didn't know the manipulative methods that Gadreel would use to get Sam's yes. He trusted Gadreel bc he thought he was Ezekiel and Cas told Dean that he could be trusted. Gadreel took advantage of his trust and he was the one who lied to Sam to get Sam's permission.

I'm also trying to remember when Dean violated Sam's body autonony other than keeping Gadreel a secret and I can only think of him and Bobby forcing Sam to detox in s4, but in the context of Sam being manipulated by demons and the way that the demon blood was affecting him, I think that can be justified (though I guess I understand if you don't agree). Either way, I think it's most directly comparable to Sam trying to rid Dean of the Mark of Cain, and the route Sam chose to do that did actively violate Dean's expressed wishes, resulted in Charlie's death and putting the entire world at risk of ending, which Sam knew was a risk... When Dean forced Sam to detox he was trying to save Sam and prevent the apocalypse, while when Sam cast the spell to remove the MoC he was trying to save Dean while knowing that it would cause unimaginable destruction and death. So in comparing those two similar situations, it seems to me like Sam was the one who was more reckless and willing to risk more because he couldn't live without Dean.

Also, in as early as Faith we saw Sam actively going against Dean's wishes to save him despite the method being incredibly suspicious and Dean not wanting to be saved that way. Sam saving Dean resulted in the death of an innocent person in Faith (it's not Sam's fault, the person would have died anyway, but now his death was on Dean's conscience when he didn't want to be saved like that in the first place), and in s3 Sam was on board with harvesting organs and frankensteining him and Dean to go on living forever just to save Dean from Hell.

Also in Mystery Spot, I'm a little confused how it was used it as an example of how he can live without Dean? That episode is supposed to show us that Sam will risk and do anything to keep Dean alive (kind of like the body part harvesting episode), to the point of possibly murdering Bobby on the suspicion that it was actually the trickster (he was correct about that, but he wasn't 100% sure so he did stab him knowing that he might be wrong and would be killing his uncle). So I just don't think it's a good example of Sam being less codependent than Dean, since the message of the episode is the exact opposite.

To be clear, I am not a Sam anti, I like him a lot. I just think that the show shows us time and time again that both Dean and Sam make reckless and harmful choices to save each other, and both of them display a lack of concern for the other's autonony over the course of the show. I don't really like the idea of arguing over which one incident was worse than the other, since ultimately that's kind of unquantifiable and they both make so many mistakes and both ultimately forgive each other. And the purgatory thing and the Gadreel thing are so different, if we want to compare one situation to another I feel like it makes more sense for the more similar situations like the demon blood detox and the MoC.

Anyway, hope you have a good day and I'm interested in hearing your thoughts!

Hey, Anon! I have an extended list of what Dean did to Sam that he thought it was right or that it was fair, but it wasn't.

• Dean DID let Gadreel possess Sam. Gadreel manipulated Sam when it was the time for Sam to say yes, but Dean LET him. What was even worse is that, after the possession, Dean kept lying to him, even when Sam thought he was crazy because he felt like there was pieces of time missing. Dean knew about Sam's story with possession, but he let it happen because he was desperate to not be left behind by his brother. Sam only found out the truth when the king of hell possessed him (after his body was tortured). Dean NEVER apologized for it. And he would do it again.

• Dean was the one who started the Apocalypse, but the narrative, the characters only blamed Sam. They both had the same goal: kill Lilith, then why only Sam got the blame? Dean left Sam in that panic room to die, Castiel let him escape, and instead of trying to talk to Sam, Dean called him a monster. Sam was manipulated by Ruby the entire time, so he was always at a disadvantage. When Dean went to hell, Sam was alone and grieving, and Ruby was there for him to give him what he wanted. But Sam learned from his mistakes, having THE arc of redemption in s5.

• I wouldn't discuss the Mark of Cain because that whole storyline was a JOKE. But anyway, Dean took the MOC willingly. He was becoming the worst version of himself. He was getting dangerous, and Sam tried talking to him to see the reason, but Dean didn't want to hear it. So Sam did what he had to do. And let's be honest here: Charlie caused her own death. She was dumb enough to leave the place where she was safe, to get killed. Dean never faced the consequences for anything related to the Mark. Different from the demon blood detox, Sam would never be cured by it because it was literally inside him. The Mark was only a curse that could be cured by a spell (the result wasn't nearly as bad as the apocalypse because the Amara storyline was pretty weak).

• In Mystery Spot, Sam was different because he was fueled by revenge, but he only "killed" Bobby because he knew it wasn't him. "You know why? Because you're not Bobby" and then stabbed him. And I'm not saying Sam doesn't have questionable decisions, but they're less harmful than Dean's.

• In episode Faith, when Dean was "saved" by that preacher, they both didn't know how that happened, but Sam believed Dean deserved to be saved, he always believed in Angels and in God, but he didn't know that it was a work from a reaper.

I'll never deny that they both were codependent on each other, but this codependency was unbalanced.

And I won't talk about the purgatory thing because I will not touch that can of worms again (too many years talking about it, and I'm so sick of it, lol)

Dean wasn't being selfless in "saving" Sam, every time he did, was for himself. Sam even said that to him in 9x13:

Dean always had this hero complex (and God complex bc it fits) that he SHOULD keep Sam alive, even when he doesn't want to, and that is a violation. Sam couldn't even keep secrets about HIMSELF from Dean, that he got punched in the face, like his life is not his own. Sam constantly thanked Dean for being there for him, and he always felt like he owed his brother everything, but you guys are 1st to judge Sam when he DOES something to save Dean and he doesn't as well, which is a hipocrisy.

To say that they're "equally" harmful to each other is not paying attention to their dynamics throughout the years. Dean always had the final word, even when Sam didn't agree with him, which it became worse in late seasons, and like Sam told him in s9, "I'll give you this much. You are certainly willing to do the sacrificing as long as you're not the one being hurt."

They ultimately forgive each other because Dean doesn't want to be alone, and I know he loves Sam, just like we know Sam loves his brother, but what choice does Sam have? He could never go on with the life of hunting without his brother. That's why it was so important for Sam to Dean to give him his blessing in 15x20 to stop hunting.

I hope you have a good day as well :)

#ask #sam winchester #dean winchester #spn #im not very good at arguments but i gave my best #sam girl

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i-did-not-mean-to · 9 months ago

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Chapter 1: Fingolfin x Maglor

Ah, one pairing that was actually on the Bingo sheet (not cheating 100% here)

Pairing: Eönwë x Gothmog, Fingolfin x Maglor

Prompt: Business Rivals

Words: 1865

Warnings: Details of Fëanor's death, @cilil cameo, incestuous relationship referenced, uncle-nephew incest, no explicit interactions...

Nobody would readily have claimed that Gothmog was a coward, but the company lawyer—a ruthless demon in the guise of a young woman—made him nervous, nevertheless.

Cílil, who had studied under Námo, the most infamously merciless lawyer of his time, scowled at the interruption, and Gothmog nearly shuffled his feet like a naughty schoolboy.

“I am not asking for your sources,” he opened without even bothering to rattle off the usual formalities. “I’d merely like to see your results.”

“Who are you to question my findings?” she inquired in the dispassionate yet cutting tone for which the so-called Doomsman was both feared and renowned—she evidently had been an exceptionally gifted student.

“I…no…I need to know what intel you have on Fëanor. Who might have wanted to kill him?”

“Who wouldn’t?” Her grin was so sharp that he knew that she was not joking in the least.

“I need a list.”

“I need a sandwich. Maybe we can come to an understanding?”

An agonisingly tense hour later, Gothmog was in possession of enough gossip and incriminating evidence to bury Fëanor twice.

As for Eönwë, he felt much less elated. Fëanor, he was informed, had been stabbed and burned, and it had been only thanks to his overabundance of jewellery and his dental records that a positive identification had been made.

“I do not expect much to come from this,” Manwë had sighed, looking out of the window pensively as if he had already given up on the case.

“I do have a few leads,” Eönwë had exclaimed, dismayed by his superior’s uncharacteristic and highly worrisome despondency.

The astonishment painted on Manwë’s face had been outright insulting, and this hurtful lack of faith made Eönwë all the more determined to actually solve this case.

He was unusually grim as he burst into the deserted pub, looking even more desolate and decrepit in the bleak daylight, but seeing Gothmog devouring his club sandwich with visible gusto instantly lifted his spirits.

“Here,” the hulking henchman mumbled around his lunch as he shoved over a neatly typed-up page of paper. “I thought we’d start with the brother. He might give us some insight into who else would have benefited from Fëanor’s sudden demise!”

After having been forced to order and eat a surprisingly delicious lunch, Eönwë found himself in a sleek, slate-grey SUV, speeding out of the most disreputable part of town.

The file on Fëanor’s half-brother in his lap was discouragingly thin—Fingolfin was, as far as the official accounts went, a regular goodie-two-shoes.

Their father, Finwë, had perished under suspicious circumstances, and Fingolfin had managed his part of the estate that had been left to Finwë’s children much more conservatively than his famous older sibling.

Of course, people chalked this up to the notable difference in nature and temperament between their respective mothers, but Eönwë was curious to discover if there wasn’t more to the story than met the eye.

He had slept very little the previous night, trying instead to memorise all the members of Fëanor’s extensive family as well as the numerous feuds and sources of resentment that might well muddy the waters before they got very far in their investigation.

The man who opened the door of the sober, clean-cut mansion was not Indis’s firstborn, though—young and alarmingly pale, he had flashing eyes that reminded Eönwë of the ocean and a soft, sensual mouth that was presently downturned in deep sadness.

More unusual and suspicious yet, he was wearing a thin camisole and the kind of comfortable trousers people usually only ever donned in the privacy of their own home.

“Who is it?” A moment later, Fingolfin—the top buttons of his creased formal shirt undone—appeared in the marble foyer.

“Police,” Eönwë said in a calm, professional tone.

“Bodyguard,” Gothmog growled unnecessarily.

With a flabbergasted side glance at his companion, Eönwë cleared his throat. “I would like to ask you a few questions about your brother.”

“Which one? Oh, Fëanor, of course…” Fingolfin blushed. “I am sorry—my nephew, Maglor, has just come by to inform me of the tragedy. As you may understand, I am utterly distraught.” Rubbing his face as if to dispel the treacherous bloom of blood mounting into his hollow, pale cheeks, Fingolfin made a jerky, only vaguely inviting gesture with his left hand. “Come in—I’ll answer any query you might have!”

“No ring,” Gothmog hissed as he ambled into the house behind Eönwë.

“I thought you and your half-brother had not been on the best of terms,” the detective commented, trying hard not to be distracted by the looming presence of the thug by his side. “You were business rivals, weren’t you?”

“Hardly,” Fingolfin replied with a brittle chuckle. “I focus mainly on the preservation and steady growth of our assets, while my brother was always more interested in innovation.”

“If that is so,” Gothmog intervened sharply. “Why would your nephew seek you out—in the most informal, cosy outfit I’ve ever seen—so soon after the news broke?”

“Ah…Well…As I just said, I am good at dealing with eventual crises. I will advise him and my other nephews on what comes next—is this really necessary? I did not kill my brother if that is what you’re trying to get at. I loved Fëanor.”

Letting his gaze sweep across the room ostentatiously, Gothmog pursed his lips.

“The boy has been here before…often,” he whispered into Eönwë’s ear as he watched Maglor flit through the room with such self-assured grace that it was evident to him that—in his evident state of distress—he could not have feigned his intimate familiarity with the layout of the house.

Eönwë blinked owlishly; he had expected hostility and barely concealed resentment in this cool, clean abode.

Instead, he’d found a man who seemed earnestly devastated by the loss of someone he’d reportedly never considered a detested rival at all. Moreover, Gothmog seemed to insinuate that Fingolfin, pretending to be much more forgiving than was credible, was entertaining a morally questionable relationship with his nephew.

Of course, he had also noticed the way Maglor’s hand lingered just a little too long on the shoulder of his uncle, and the subsequent grateful smile had not struck him as entirely appropriate, but he had been ready to give them the benefit of the doubt.

After all, grief did strange and terrible things to people, and he was not there to judge the ways in which they dealt with so unspeakable a loss.

“We’ve got to ferret out the other sons,” Gothmog remarked sotto voce. “There is something fishy here, to say the least. Even if that fool means it when he says that he’s not seen his brother as a foe, Fëanor would surely not have welcomed whatever little imbroglio is taking place here!”

Fingolfin, Eönwë decided as he opened his trusty notebook, was at the same time much more and much less suspicious than he had anticipated, and this was due to totally unforeseen developments and revelations.

“Loved him?” he asked pensively, forcing his mind back to the actual statements of their suspect rather than Gothmog’s outlandish speculations. “He did not seem the kind of man who was loved. Revered, admired, and envied, yes, but cherished? Hard to believe!”

“I cannot think of a single person who’d want to harm Fëanor,” Fingolfin insisted, looking up with wide, honest eyes that gleamed feverishly. “Why don’t you visit my brother’s ex-wife? She might have a better overview of any potential enemies.”

Nerdanel—famous sculptress, headstrong businesswoman, and winner of a short but vicious divorce—had been the next person on Eönwë’s list to interrogate anyway.

Nonetheless, the detective, dizzy with all the discoveries he had made during this first foray, schooled his face into a grateful smile.

“What happened?” Fingolfin asked suddenly, lifting his doleful gaze pleadingly to their stern faces. “Can you tell me?”

“I’d also love to hear that,” Gothmog agreed quietly.

“He’s been poked viciously by a pointy object—probably in one of a downtrodden, insalubrious apartment complex uni—and thrown from a considerable height before being set aflame. I am sure you can appreciate now why we’re looking for someone who hated the man enough to try and murder him thrice over,” Eönwë reported in a detached, professional voice.

He’d had very little time thus far to come to grips with the gruesome nature of the crime he was investigating, and he preferred to keep his profound incomprehension and instinctive pity in check in front of his suspects.

“Unimaginable,” Fingolfin cried out and slung his arm around Maglor who buried his face against his chest with a piercing cry of inarticulate, raw despair.

Gothmog’s jaw tightened—while he was more convinced than ever that Melkor was not guilty, another nagging doubt started to take root in his heart.

Even though his boss was usually not the kind of person for such long, convoluted sequences of deliberate, calculated violence, his second-in-command would undeniably have delighted in so elaborate a staging.

Seeing the picture of heartbroken desolation before him, Eönwë realised that he should have minced his words and softened the blow of the truth—he felt terrible for having misread the situation once again and was suddenly very eager to get out of this hopeless situation, fraught with unspoken truths and involuntarily revealed secret affections.

“Neither one of you is to leave the city while we’re investigating,” he informed the two mourners who seemed to have forgotten about the rivalry between their family branches, good manners, and common decency, as well as the rest of the world in general. “Thank you for your insights—I will probably circle back to the both of you in due time.”

Gothmog merely tapped his finger to the side of his nose and winked. “Good luck comforting one another,” he hummed provocatively and was promptly bodily shoved out of the room by an endearingly flustered Eönwë.

“When we get to the wife, please keep your impertinent comments to yourself!”

“Whatever you say, guvnor,” Gothmog chortled cheerily. “They are more than workplace rivals or distant relatives; this I’d bet my head on. Let’s see what Maglor’s mum has to say to that!”

“Tomorrow same place? I must go write up what we’ve found out so far,” Eönwë mumbled, strangely reluctant to part from the uncouth giant ambling up the elegant driveway.

“Same place, same time. Can I drop you off somewhere?” Gothmog asked amiably, apparently also not eager to let their collaborative moment end.

“I’ll walk,” Eönwë said waveringly. “I need to clear my head and go over the facts…Thank you! See you tomorrow!”

The clumsy lie tasted like stale coffee and cheap lemonade on his tongue, but he couldn’t bear to be observed—and potentially mocked cruelly—while he tried to work through their discoveries.

Eönwë had ever been slightly squeamish when it came to romantic and sexual innuendos—despite superficial appearances, he was not a prude so much as a woefully inexperienced, lonely soul, though.

He might not have known much, but he was certain that he’d better keep that little, inconsequential truth about himself under wraps for the time being.

So, @tolkienpinupcalendar here's another pairing!

Lots of love from me!

-> Masterlist

#og post #Fanfiction #writing #IDNMT writes #jrrt #Tolkien fanfiction #Masterlist #NSFT #NSFT rarepair bingo #rare pairs #Chapter 1 #Eönwë x Gothmog #Firebird #Eönwë #Gothmog #Fingolfin x Maglor #Fingolfin #Maglor #Business rivals

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cherrychapstick54 · 2 months ago

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Amnesia Was Her Name

Chapter 21: We Are All Just Prisoners Here Of Our Own Device

Title from “Amnesia Was Her Name” by Lemon Demon

Synopsis: Tommy can’t remember what the holiday is called, but it’s the season of mercy! No, wait��season of giving! That’s what it is.

This chapter was written by me.

Trigger warnings: Blood, verbal abuse, mentions of physical abuse, threats of torture, hallucinations, your basic holiday trauma, giving a snowwoman boobs.

Bright lights, shimmering snow, and colorful decorations were Tommy’s favorite part of Christmas Eve. He was partial to the presents, of course, but the lights were just so beautiful. He wouldn’t tell anyone this though. Maybe Amnesia, but she hadn’t come back yet. Phil was here, and Mamacita had come back to dote on Mexican Dream, hoping to win him back. Dream had been around too, but the man was barely noticeable anymore. Never speaking a word, observing everyone else, occasionally making a jab at Mexican Dream or Tommy, but overall he had been very tame. It almost scared the boy.

He decided not to think too hard about it. After all, almost everything scared him now.

Tommy sat the wrapped box under the tree, he had finally finished everyone’s gifts, just in time. Glancing through the presents, he notices a small jewelry-sized box, addressed to him.

He should walk away right now, but Tommy has never been known for what he should do.

He picks up the box, inspecting it carefully, checking the weight in his palm, shaking it around a bit to hear a small clattering.

“You wouldn’t be sneaking a peak at my present for you, would you, Tommy?” Tommy freezes.

“Your present…for me?” The boy turns to look at Dream suspiciously.

The man chuckles, “It’s Christmas, Tommy! Of course I got you a present. How dumb are you?”

“Oh. Well,” Tommy clears his throat, slightly worried about the man in front of him, “thank you, Dream.” The boy flinches when Dream brings his hand up to pat him on the shoulder.

“You’re welcome, Tommy. But you still have to wait until later to find out what I got you. Wouldn’t want to get on the naughty list at the last minute, right? I mean, heaven knows that you deserve it, but it’s the season of mercy! Or was it the season of giving…” Mumbling along before Tommy can respond, Dream is walks away, presumably to mess with Mexican Dream.

“Tommy, come join me!” Tommy follows the voice, seeing Phil next to a sphere of snow on the ground. Phil pats the ground next to him, and waits for Tommy to kneel down with him before continuing with his task.

“I’m building a snowman. Do you want to help decorate it?” Phil opens his hands, showing pieces of coal and a carrot.

Tommy grins, “Only if I can give it boobs.”

“Alright,” Phil’s laugh makes Tommy smile brighter, “a snow woman, then.”

Tommy has no memory of building a snowman in the past, but he seems to be exceedingly good at it anyway. He takes extra care shaping the body, claiming that he will be making his “ideal woman”, and places each decoration carefully, making sure not to ruin the packed snow with the black tint of the coal.

“I’m not sure how I did it, Phil, but I think I’ve created the most attractive woman I’ve ever seen. And I spend a lot of time around attractive women, they flock to me, y’know?”

- timeset evening -

Tommy isn’t sure why, or even how, but he’s actually enjoyed the day. Although he guesses it’s from the lack of beatings, and the season, of course. Sure, he’s been on edge all day, but seeing everyone so happy? It’s a little contagious.

“Here, Tommy, this is for you.” In Tommy’s hands lay a fairly light box, yet big. He wouldn’t like to admit it, but Phil’s gesture almost makes him cry. Opening the box, the first thing that he notices is the green color, then the appearance of what seems to be hand-knitting. Lastly, Tommy realizes exactly what’s sitting in his hands, a scarf. A scarf so green and made with love that it kind of baffles the boy. Did Phil make this? For him?

“Well, I guess it’s pretty alright, ain’t it?” Wrapping the scarf around his neck, Tommy stands in a superhero pose, allowing everyone to admire his new accessory.

“Alright, alright. It’s time for Tommy to open my gift.” Dream stands, handing Tommy the small box. Dream stares at him, nodding his head as a sign to get it over with. Unfurling the ribbon, Tommy rips the wrapping off, letting it fall to the ground. How has the snow started to melt already? It’s freezing out. Maybe the lights from the tree were on so long that it melted it all.

Lifting the top of the box, Tommy lets it fall to the ground as well. Inside, a key. A key? Tommy looks up at Dream confused.

“Well, what do you think? Aren’t you grateful?” The man smiles at him, making Tommy impossibly on edge.

“I don’t…get it.” The boy words it carefully, trying not to upset the man.

“God, Tommy, are you always so stupid? It’s a key to your house! You get to go home now. Sometimes you really make me wonder if your brain really is fucked up.” He chuckles, then looks at the others to agree.

“You really are dumb, mate.” Phil joins in, poking at Tommy’s insecurities.

“I’m not sure why anyone would want to be friends with you, especially if they have to explain everything to you, taking care of you like you’re a sick dog. No one deserves that burden of knowing you.” Mamacita’s words echo through Tommy’s head, bouncing against his brain harshly. Does he have a headache?

Mexican Dream stands with Mamacita, looking at Tommy in disappointment. “Haven’t you realized by now? Everywhere you go, you drag along your own personal burden. No matter what you do, you ruin everyone’s lives. I can guarantee that we would all be so much better off if you weren’t here. If you never existed.”

“If you were dead.” Dream adds on.

Tommy cries, he’s crying? Staring at all the people he had grown close to. He waited. Waited for someone to shout, “Just kidding!” or admit it was all just a cruel joke, that they were just testing him. He waited. And waited. Before he ran.

Running, running home, running anywhere he felt safe. But I don’t even remember my home, how can I feel safe there? Safe seemed like a made-up word, like it was just some construct that he created in order to feel better about himself. He couldn’t feel safe, nowhere, nothing would make him feel safe.

His feet pad on the ground, a wet sploch resounding through his ears with every step he took. Wet, wet, the ground was wet. Were his feet melting the snow beneath him? No, he was too cold to have melted anything. But why was the ground wet? There’s no snow. No snow to comfort him, no snow to remind him of a holiday that he can’t even remember the name of, no snow to numb his hurting feet, running on tiny, sharp rocks. Rocks?

Blood. He fell? Blood streaming down his face, mixing into tears. He was crying. It stings. The truth stings. No, that’s his face that stings. Why does it sting? Hurt. Why does it hurt? His face. Oh god, his face. Tommy feels it. He feels the way his feet slip on the grass beneath him. He feels the way the air pushes past him as he falls. Face. He feels the way his face cracks against the rock he landed on. He can feel it. He feels the bones of his nose shatter in just a single moment. He feels.

He wishes he couldn’t feel.

- Divider credits to @issysh3ll -

#AWHN #awhn ch21 #cherry-ns #dsmp #dsmp dream #dsmp angst #dsmpblr #dsmp fanfic #dsmp tommy #dream smp #dsmp philza #dsmp mamacita #dsmp mexican dream

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sentenceme-leni · 7 months ago

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Day 64. Monday. Minimum 1 sentence.

---

Pinocchio squealed in high-pitched laughter as Belle caught him and twirled him around.

"Now you are it!" Their guest told Guepetto's boy, letting him free before turning around and setting off back across the gardens.

"Not fair!" Pinocchio cried out. "You have longer legs."

"And a heavier dress," Belle yelled back, still laughing. "Just run and you'll catch me."

From a distance, Red watched the pair.

Officially, she was out to enjoy the sunshine, smell the flowers and take a break from the endless little details that popped up when the new queen took a husband.

Unofficially, a vigilant eye had to be kept over the young brunette.

No one had expected the Dark One to respond in the affirmative to the wedding invitation. Powerful sorcerers made the guest list only as a token to reassure them that a kingdom wanted peace.

When the Spinner had sent back a message announcing he would send a one-person envoy, everyone had been shocked.

There had been rumors about the Dark One socializing more often. That a chatelaine now ruled in the Dark Castle when her master was gone. That the Dealer had traded beauty potions, or magic lessons, or safety from other monsters, for the right to a woman's bed. Neighboring kingdoms carried tales of a beauty paraded about on the Dark One's arm. Snow White wouldn't be the first monarch to be pressed into welcoming an unknown to her court.

That the woman in question was a bright-eyed, cheerful thing had only added to the general surprise.

"Looking at her," Red said thoughtfully, "no one could tell she's been shut in that gloomy castle for years."

At her side, Granny huffed. "Not for lack of rescue attempts."

After the announcement of her visit, men had approached Prince James, warning him not to mention freedom to the Dark One's pet. They spoke of losing days as a crawling pest on the grounds, and of painful rolling down the mountain. One or two had even spoken in the name of comrades who never returned from their attempt to take her back home.

Outside royal hearing, Red's sharp ears had picked on the less polite epithets used against the young woman.

Bitch. Because she said no.

Whore. Because she wouldn't come with them.

Stupid. Because she sent them away.

Red found it impossible to reconcile those descriptions with the actual woman.

"Do you believe what they say about her?"

Granny scoffed. "Which version? The disappointed knights, bemoaning feeling useless? Or Princess Abigail, who speaks of her in glowing terms?" Then she shrugged. "Not that it matters. She may be a saint or a demon; all that counts is that she's staying with Rumpelstiltskin and does as he bids."

Red bit her lip at the sound of the Spinner's name, but knew better than to chastise her grandmother. If the Dark One decided to answer that summon, it would be on his own head.

Granny was likely to take a bite off before he even said a word.

Laughter echoed around the garden. Pinocchio's was loud and enthusiastic.

"I doubt the Dealer told her to play with a little boy."

Granny pressed her lips in a stubborn line. "That boy was blessed by Reul Ghorm Herself. Who knows what that means among sorcerers." Put like that, Red had to concede that it looked suspicious. "I'm not taking my eye off him until that woman is gone."

Common sense said her grandmother was right.

Red still itched to join the game anyway

The End

03/06/24

#ouat fanfic #belle (ouat)#ruby lucas #granny lucas #ar: the long haul #dark castle era

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frederickkatz · 21 days ago

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My feelings are fatal

TIME: November 22nd, 2024 PLACE: Evergreen Graveyard BETWEEN: Adam ( @adamnvamp ) & Fredrick NOTES: Written on Discord.

Freddie wasn't sure why he had done this. It was always easier to talk to Adam through texts, but he lately realized that his words might be misunderstood through this via of communication and he didn't want any confusion about this. He sighed as he appeared himself at the cemetery, near a big tree where he could sense Adam's energy. He was carrying two thermoses, one with coffee and one with Adam's usual order at the blood bar. He smiled when he spotted the vampire. Outside. In daylight. He arched a brow as he got closer, "Daywalker uh? another perk of dating a fae?" he asked amused and curious as he handed the thermoses to Adam with a polite smile.

The sudden energy around the graveyard surprised him and Adam turned with a smile "Hello there" he waved, putting the rake he used to gather leaves to the side. "Day walker?" He questioned with a tilted head "Ah, because I'm out in the day? Yeah, it's- it's a nice perk. Takes the humans off your tail in no time if they ever get suspicious" he accepted the thermos. He wasn't really hungry, tasting Devon always left him energized anyway, but he knew sharing a drink was an important part of important conversations. "Please, have a seat" the vampire gestured to the bench, taking a seat himself "What has brought you in today?"

Freddie nodded, “it’s a term that has been use for centuries to name vampires who can walk in the daylight. Either by blood or demonic deals,” he explained wondering how much Adam actually knew of his own kind, “angelic and fae blood are the only ones who allow vampires not to be affected by the sun and holy water,” he added just as a fun fact, “oh that too, I always forget about humans and their suspicious,” he shrugged. He accepted the invitation as he sipped his coffee, “I realized that sometimes talking through texts doesn’t give the right vibe and things can be taken out of contexts,” he started, “I would also like to ask for your discretion about this. I know you and Devon probably trust each other with everything, but this is something I don’t want anyone else to know,” he continued.

Adam listened with interest, humming along "Oh I had no idea" he said, the angelic blood was a surprise "I'm not really into Vampiric history or politics, to be honest. I try to be on the verge of it, especially to keep Devon safe" the vampire said, excusing his ignorance. "Of course. I trust Devon with my life, but your secrets are yours to tell, Frederick. He doesn't know of the things we talk about" he shrugged "I'm assuming this is about Cameron?"

“Makes sense, the less you know the safer it is for him, but I think it’s important you know more about your kind. Especially about the things you can and can’t do,” he suggested in a calmed tone, so Adam didn’t feel judged. He nodded when Adam said he assumed it was about Cameron, “yes, and no, in the end is about me,” he sighed, “Do you remember we talked about how it is when we come back to life? The lack of feelings and their development? I mean, for you it was easier because you knew about feelings when you were human so you could relate and compare and understand when you were feeling that again, right?” he said looking at the thermos in his hands, “I don’t have that advantage. I don’t have anything to compare with, and in my head I separate physical feelings, like needs, from emotional ones,” he explained, “the physical ones are easier to understand. Cold, warmth, tiredness, arouse, hunger, attraction, pain…” he listed some, “emotional ones are harder to decipher, especially cause me being what I am, I’m more used and related to the negative ones. Anger, violence, hate, dislike… so it’s odd for me to feel things I don’t quite understand, and I don’t know what to do with that or how to act on those,” he sighed hoping he was making any sense.

"Oh, I'd love to learn, I just don't keep close contact with any other vampire for Dev's safety. But if you'd be willing, we could have a drink sometime and you can enlighten me with what you know" he smiled, showing he wasn't feeling judged, and at the same time, that it wouldn't be today. Today it was about Freddie. Adam listened carefully, sipping from his thermos. It tasted like warm stale coke after having Devon that morning, but what can you do? "Okay, I'm following" he said, nodding "You think there's some new, emotional feelings coming up?"

Freddie smiled, “I don’t that much but I’ll be glad to share what I do know. I’m pretty sure there are some books at the library I could point out for you to learn more about yourself,” he offered. “Yes,” he said simply, “I know my siblings, Warren specially would know exactly what I’m going through but the thing is that Warren has a way to get in people’s heads and business and I don’t want him to do that with Cameron,” he said seriously with a small frown and then he sighed, “How did you realize that you had feelings for Devon?”

"I'd like that" he said simply, nodding along to Freddie's words. "You're worried he'd make Cameron think he felt something he wasn't feeling?" Adam asked honestly, then paused, trying to put his memories into words. "Well, I knew I had feelings for him when I noticed that our sexual encounters weren't just sex anymore" he shrugged, a small smile on his lips "We started dating backwards, so at first we hooked up a few times. Then we spent more time together and... and at some point I realized I couldn't imagine my life without him anymore. Or I could, but it wouldn't be a life worth living" Adam paused again, trying to bring it to a more practical answer "There was this tightness in my chest, a very specific one. When I made him sad, it felt like a hand was squeezing my innards, but when I made him happy my organs seemed to grow so much they barely fit in my ribcage."

Freddie smile a little, keeping in mind some books he should bring to Adam next time they meet up. He shook his head at the question, “No, I’m worried he might make Cameron think I’m feelings things I’m not feeling yet,” he sighed, “Warren means well,” he added, “he wants me to do well in this human thing but I’m not a fast learner as he is. He moves quite faster through the motions. I haven’t been in human form for thousands of years while it’s been the opposite for him so that’s why it’s harder for me. He pushes a little too much as I imagine all older siblings do,” he huffed, “it’s unnerving, honestly,” he shrugged. He listened carefully at Adam’s description and in a way it was all very similar to how his relationship with Cameron had started, “It sounds quite similar because what I have with Cameron started strictly as sex. It was supposed to be a power role agreement. It works for us, but these kinds of agreements are not supposed to involve feelings. It’s supposed to be only physical gratification…” he let out a deep sigh, “the things is that Cameron is just…” he huffed, “since the beginning it’s been different with him. He just falls in the role so naturally that only made me want him more and lately it’s more than just for physical gratification,” he admitted feeling a stupid and unusual blush in his face.

Adam hummed, nodding along and not commenting on how Freddie worded it. Yet, huh. "I've been an only child myself, but from the stories Devon has told me... I'm pretty sure meaning well but being an absolute nuisance is the job description of an older sibling" he shrugged with a playful smile. It was gratifying to see Freddie opening up, for real, for the first time and Adam busied himself drinking his awful drink to give him time to elaborate as much as he wanted "It starts as physical gratification, but you come back" he said simply "Have you ever wondered what makes you keep coming back to him? When it happened with Devon, I had just started regaining feeling, it was almost intoxicating. Like I kept craving this high, this rush, until... I realized it wasn't just that." The vampire offered his own answer, trying to help the horseman not be embarrassed. "What else do you think it is, between you and Cameron, that's not physical gratification?"

Freddie chuckled at the description Adam provided about older siblings, “I envy you for not having to deal with older siblings. I have two and one of them is fed up with me to the point they sent me away, and the other is a true pain in the ass,” he huffed. He nodded, “I have but it’s not all that simple. You see, this is my first time in a male body. All my other times playing human were as a woman, and as a women sex with male and females was way too different as what it is in a male body,” he looked away cause sharing this made him feel exposed and slightly uncomfortable to tell it to someone else, “I’ve been in this body for over two hundred years, and I mostly focused on women. Cameron wasn’t the first male who hit on me, but it was the first who made me want to try more. He has also been the only male I’ve been involved in the kind of agreement we have, so I’m not sure if that’s the reason, or if it is because he’s fae, or because he just falls into what I need so naturally and easily that is intoxicating and addictive,” he blushed again cause it did sound similar to what Adam had described.

“He wanted to hang out,” he rolled his eyes but kept on smiling, “he said we were friends apart from the sex thing and he said friends hang out and just share things and I’ve never had friends before, I do now, but it’s still different with him and I found myself enjoying those little hangouts. Most times they end up in sex and the sex is still what we agreed on and everything our deal entails, but…” he swallowed hard, “we kept apart for a few days because I was dealing with some family issues,” he said bitterly, “and dealing with work and moving to a new place and I found myself craving his presence, his voice, his texts, his smile, his silly jokes and when we finally saw each other it was not how sex usually was between us and I wasn’t bothered about it, but I don’t want to say things I don’t understand and confuse him or give him hope of something I’m not sure I’m capable of feelings…. Besides, he is dating someone, and I don’t want to mess up with that,” he shrugged taking a sip of his coffee.

"Ah yes, I've heard that many times, but I myself would've loved having a sibling, so I guess we're never happy with what we have, right?" He smiled, listening as he turned the thermos around his hands. "Ah, now it makes sense why it's such a complicated topic" the vampire nodded with a small frown. "I'm not going to pretend like I understand what your deal entails, and to be honest that's between you two and I wouldn't even want to intrude" he started gently "But let me ask you this: If you went out tonight, and you found another man, who was similar in bed, who fell into this role just as well as Cameron did and gave you everything you crave from sex with him... Would you stop seeing Cameron?" The vampire prompted, sincerely. "Because the other times we talked about him, sex was always the primal point, and now... It comes out like an afterthought, almost." He shrugged, with a heavy sigh "Ah yes, Trevor right? That complicates things further." Adam let a silence stretch between them "I know it's not your nature, but please entertain me for a moment. If you could imagine your life as perfect as it could be, the most ideal and utopic or sceneries, be it now or in ten years or a hundred. Would you want to be feeling... something you're not sure you're capable of feeling right now... for Cameron?"

Freddie hummed and nodded, "And here I thought that was merely a human flaw," he said playfully. Freddie took a moment before answering, "the thing is that after that first time with Cameron, I did look out for others. I did sleep with others and even tried the same agreement, but it just didn't feel the same. Some where too eager and others not eager enough. Cameron just fit in perfectly on what I didn't know I was looking for," he admitted, "even while I was sleeping with others, I kept coming back for Cameron," he added. "It's not quite like that. How familiar are you with the Dominant and submissive dynamics?" He asked because that played a huge role on his relationship with Cameron, and he didn't want Adam to compare it to a more romantic kind of situation. "The think all of you fail to understand is that there are feelings I don't know how they feel because I've never felt them. I don't know what love feels like. I don't know what compassion feels like. I don't know what nostalgia feels like. I don't know what they are, that is why I keep saying I don't know if I'm capable of feeling them," he deflated a little at that, "I'm not trying to be evasive and I say I don't want to feel those things, I just don't know what they are," he added with a frown.

Adam listened carefully, nodding along. He was surprised when the subject of Dominance and submissiveness came up, though. "I'm familiar" he said simply, prompting the other.

It was visible how frustrated Freddie seemed to be with the situation and the vampire took a long moment to work out what to say. "The way I see it, love isn't just one feeling." He said, placing his drink to the side to get Freddie's attention "Love is a bundle of emotions. That's why it's so complex and different for everyone, because it's build of different blocks for everyone. Some people's love is built on sex, others have nothing to do with sex at all - that's why it's hard to explain" He smiled "My love for my old fiancée, it burned. Not like a fire, but like liquor. It had lust mixed with happiness and anger and discovery. When I came back, I looked for it, and I couldn't find it. Then, my love for him became a mix of nostalgia, of melancholy, and care. Because I still care deeply about him, but there was no spark left" Adam paused, closing his eyes to access it, a stupid smile on his lips "My love for Devon is built on fun. It's bubbly and soft and sexy and comfortable. It's happiness and change and care and devotion. It's like... the feeling of being fresh out of the shower or the sensation of jumping into a pool on a hot day. It's the silly temporary satisfaction of filling a cup to the brim and not spilling over or finding your favorite shirt in the back of the wardrobe when you've forgotten it exists. It's completely ordinary happenings that make me feel lucky. Because I wasn't looking for it, but this love for Devon found me anyway."

Freddie nodded when Adam said he was familiar with the dynamics, "I've moved into that lifestyle most of the time I've been corporeal and it's the first time I found someone who just fulfills that need and it's someone who's fairly new to it all. I've tried it with new people and experimented people and still Cameron just works for me," he explained without giving details on their roles.

Adam was being more than helpful with the way he explained it, sadly, most of the examples he gave were completely foreign for Freddie but in the end he got what the vampire was trying to explain, "I imagined there was not one definition of what love is or feels like, I just wish there was a way for me to understand it. You, like Cameron and Devon, we're humans once and for most of your lives, which is the thing that differentiate me and my siblings from you and why it's hard. You all grew up and learned through experiences what the feeling are. I was created an adult. My learning process is biased. Technically I'm not supposed to feel positive things and I haven't experienced them until recently, that is why this brain cannot connect the dots to understand the things in feeling," he sighed, "I'm not saying I feel love for Cameron or that I don't. I just don't know what are those things he makes me feel," he shrugged, "I do know I care about him. I want him to be happy, I want him to be safe. I don't like it when he's sad or hurt. I like it when he smiles and when he starts talking nonstop about something he's passionate about, but I don't know what to do with it," he leaned back and looked at the sky setting in the horizon, "I don't want to tell him much about this because I don't want to give him hope and then hurt him if I can't feel what he might expect me to feel. Especially now he has someone who's feelings are reciprocated."

Adam nodded along, careful not to prod "Okay, and what's the issue with it? If he works for you, isn't it good? Isn't it... what you'd hope to find?" He asked with a soft voice, grabbing his thermos again.

He took a long sip of it, sighing when Freddie finished "I understand. And I actually think it's very emotionally mature of you, to care so deeply about his feelings like this" The vampire paused "I'm afraid I'm not some emotion-doctor, who could diagnose you with love or passion or whatever it is you're feeling. But still I'd like to offer you something to think about" he waited until Freddie looked at him. "Words are just definitions. They're made up, and we assign meaning to them. I could write poetry about love, but in the end it is just a four-lettered word" Adam smiled "What I mean, is: you mentioned you're learning about these feelings with Cameron, and he's learning about this lifestyle with you. You can both learn this kind of love - or whatever name you'd like to give it - together. You can even ask him, what he expects from someone who loves him, what they're expected to feel. You can tell him what you feel, however you understand it, and as long as it's an honest and open conversation, there won't be any hopes built to fall. Cameron is many things, but he's not stupid. If you explain it to him, he'll understand. Just as I did."

Freddie hesitated for a moment about the subject, but he found a way to explain it, "Since day one all the times I've had sex with Cameron was in a scene. All of them but the last time. I don't know what that was, but it wasn't a scene, and it wasn't casual sex either and I don't know how I feel about it," he finally said.

He was thankful for Adam's opinion on the way he cared about Cameron's feelings and he smiled a bit sadly when the vampire said he couldn't help him giving him an answer because there wasn't one. "I appreciate that very much," he said with a nod even though he didn't really like the idea of talking to Cameron about this, "I know he's not stupid but he's also not very patient. The only time we had some sort of disagreement was because he pushed me to put a name on the things I was feeling in that moment. I know he was trying to help but if I tell him now about this chaos inside of me, he'll want to help me categorized then and I think it's something I need to do on my own and at my pace," he sighed sadly, "he really doesn't like waiting and I know he will want to try to be patient but I know the wait will still hurt him so maybe it is something I need to figure out on my own before telling him anything."

"And was it something you'd like to have again?" Adam asked simply.

"I'd say to give him a chance, we change, and we learn, so does he. I say that because I saw him leaving Devon's apartment the other day, I'm assuming it was while you were away, and he looked absolutely miserable. When we care about people, we put in extra effort to make sure they're understood." He nodded along "I understand. Either way, it's your decision. But if you think talking it out with anyone could help, you know where to find me."

Freddie frowned and considered it for a moment, "remember when we talked about I've fight and fly instinct? I felt that but I didn't let it win because I knew that if I left in that very moment, Cameron would have been hurt and I promise not to hurt him again if I could help it. So I'm not sure I would want it to happen again," he admitted.

He nodded but didn't vocally agree, "see that's exactly why I'm being careful. He's supposed to be happy with Trevor and not feeling bad because I had to stay away to handle some things," he sighed tiredly, "Thank you, Adam. I really appreciate it, it has helped a lot, it really has, and I don't know how to repay you for this," he smiled.

Adam nodded "It makes sense." He said "If that fight or flight instinct calmed down, thinking about the rest of the encounter, would you want it to happen again?" Adam asked "I say that because that instinct is normal when something is new, but as you get used to it, it goes away. But if the whole thing is something you didn't like, there's no reason to overthink it when you can just go back to your normal sessions, don't you think?"

The comment made Adam chuckle softly and he hid behind his hand "I'm sorry, it's just that.... Frederick, being in a relationship doesn't mean someone is happy all of the time. To go through emotions is... if not human, inherit of the living experience. If he was sad about something, it's because that something mattered to him, and no amount of love in the world can keep you from feeling bad emotions from time to time" He shrugged when Freddie thanked him, asking how to repay him "You're doing your best to keep Cameron safe, his safety matters a lot to Devon, and he matters to me, so... don't mention it, ok? We're good, mate."

Freddie shook his head, "it didn't calm down. I pushed it down but I still feel it when I think about it," he admitted, "I would rather to go back to our usual scenes," he said even if it didn't feel entirely right.

The laugh made him arch a brow, "I know that, not by experience obviously, I just don't want to affect his life that much. It's not fair and it feels wrong," he said not really wanting to get into more detail. Who would've know that talking feelings was so exhausting? He smiled a bit and nodded, "Thank you, Adam, really. You are a really good friend," he said offering his hand for a shake.

The answer he got made him sigh. Baby steps. "Then that's what you do. Try that out and let me know how you feel about it, ok?"

"I'm afraid you can't control how much he lets you affect his life, buddy. That's his choice" the vampire said, then smiled at the thanks, shaking Freddie's hand back "Thanks, man."

Freddie nodded even if he had no intention to give Adam feedback about his next encounter with Cameron, "alright, I'll try it out, thanks."

He huffed at the answer, "I wish I could," he admitted. He nodded and picked his thermos back, "I probably should let you go back to work," he said standing up, "see you around?"

"I know, buddy" he said with a tight smile, then nodded with an actual smile, getting up as well "See you around, Freddie. Take care!"

#para: adam #para: My feelings are fatal #mentions of D/s dynamic #emotionally constipated character #paras

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anthonysstupiddailyblog · 2 years ago

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Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (419): Wed 10th May 2023

Up early for a visit to the doctors this morning about an issue that has needed to be resolved for some time. In recent years I’ve found myself constantly worrying, overthinking, instantly picturing the worst possible outcome of every decision I make and unable to find the enthusiasm to even do things that I like. I also try to avoid other people like the plague and having to even exchange friendly banter with them makes my skin crawl. I think it’s pretty obvious to anyone reading this that my anxiety has really gotten out of control in recent years. The therapist I saw a while back tried her best to help treat my anxiety but it was to no avail (and to be fair she was trying the help me treat it while I was working in a call centre so she was fighting an uphill battle). When the therapy (specifically CBT) failed to ameliorate any of the issues associated with social anxiety disorder I realized that if I was ever going to get better it would have to be through medication. I thought that I was going to have to have a lengthy dialogue with the doctor because anxiety has become a bit of a buzzword these days and I wouldn’t be surprised if doctors are a bit suspicious that people have self diagnosed themselves with anxiety. I told the doctor about all the constant overthinking, the dark thoughts, the constant apprehension I have when it comes to venturing out of my comfort zone and having to interact with others and the lack of motivation to do even the things that I enjoy. I also mentioned that when I got diagnosed with BFS a few years ago the neurologist told me that it is typically triggered by anxiety. The doctor gave me a questionnaire to fill out in order to determine what level of anxiety I was at. The questionnaire had a possible high score of 30 and I scored 27. Five years ago I would have been shocked by this revelation but recently things have gotten so bad that my immediate reaction was that it sounded completely accurate. The doctor gave me a card for Mind the mental health charity and she’s given me some meds and told me to increase the dosage over the coming weeks. I’m glad that I’ve finally decided to stop burying these issues and hoping they resolve themselves. Hopefully I won’t be such a nervous wreck anymore and maybe it will also help treat the twitches in my calves too. I finally finished “reading” Cimarron Rose, the latest book in my quest to read all the winners of the Edgar Award for Beat Novel. Once again it’s an entry that is probably much more entertaining than k gave it credit for but I’m the kind of reader who needs to be gripped right from the start or else I’ll just be phoning it in for the remainder. The plot is about a cop defending a young black man who he suspects has been falsely accused of rape (I know there will be some far-left people who don’t recognize the term “falsely accused of rape” but people do actually lie. It happens). There’s also a subplot about being haunted by the ghost of a Navajo he accidentally shot dead but the novel as a whole wasn’t enough to captivate me. Maybe if there was a third subplot about a demonic dog who shoots flaming turds out of its arse and is going around Edinburgh killing people. I don’t know how the author could have worked that into a story set in the American badlands but if he’s a good author he would have found a way. The two items on my bucket list I’m determined to cross off before this year are to get my weight down to twelve stone and to finish reading all the Edgar books. I’m going to plow through the remaining 24 books in the series so that I can finally move on to my next challenge. Luckily the next book in the series Mr White’s Confession by Robert Clark arrived today so I’m going to jump right into it tomorrow.

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prettybirdy979 · 3 years ago

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Fic: Aziraphale/Crowley - Secret Bed Sharing

Combining the prompts of this list and this list. Still doing some. Please feel free to send me any prompts. More of my fics here.

It starts small.

All big things do.

But this thing did not seem big at the time. Crowley - Crawly then - had followed the humans from Eden and Aziraphale had been sent hurrying after. There wasn’t much else to follow in the world so he’d caught up to Crawly soon enough and from there, well, why not stick together?

Make things easier on themselves.

That continued to nightfall, when the humans curl up to sleep under one of the few trees around. Aziraphale had sat beneath another and wasn’t surprised when Crawly sat beside him.

He didn’t comment on the closing eyes of the demon, even as Crawly slowly leaned closer and closer to him. He bit his tongue as Crawly finally drifted into sleep, his head pillowed on Aziraphale’s shoulder.

And he certainly didn’t mention it when the sun rose, and everyone - including Crawly - woke and they all continued on.

But it is, despite the lack of formal furniture, the first time they share a ‘bed’.

It won’t be the last.

At first it doesn’t happen regularly. They don’t meet up enough for that, and rarely for the length of time to end up near a bed-like surface.

But sometimes they’ll cross paths on an assignment, caught in the increasingly longer travel times before groups of humans and it just makes sense to keep walking together. And of course, no one walks at night, and here’s an inn and well, it’s far easier to find one room at this inn than two.

Oh and Aziraphale doesn’t sleep, it’s fine. Perfect even.

He always spends the night in the bed anyway, at Crawley’s insistence. Leaves before dawn, to meet Crawley at breakfast, but he does stay in the bed.

They don’t talk about it.

It snowballs from Rome.

Rome, where they spend a week drinking and collapsing on whichever bed ends up being closer only to wake up - or just rise in Aziraphale’s case - and do it all over again. It’s a distraction and temptation and kind words Aziraphale dares not even think let alone voice-

And then their assignments creep in.

‘Crowley,’ Aziraphale says on the last night, his last before he leaves the city. He stops, throat full of words he doesn’t think he can say.

‘Angel,’ Crowley acknowledges, his voice a balm on shattered nerves. ‘Til we meet again.’

He closes his eyes and leans against Aziraphale, just as he had all those years ago.

Aziraphale lets himself place a soft kiss to Crowley’s forehead when dawn breaks, before he slips out of their bed and leaves.

From there, it becomes an unspoken secret. If they are in the same town, they stay as close as they can without being suspicious and slip into unlocked rooms when night falls. Aziraphale rents rooms he never sleeps in, waiting for the rare days he finds someone waiting for him in his bed when he returns. Sometimes he sneaks into Crowley’s room - more, once they come to the Arrangement and can coordinate - and leaves, as usual, when dawn breaks.

Occasionally, Crowley doesn’t wake the entire time Aziraphale is there.

On those nights, Aziraphale starts leaving loose objects in the room - sticks, rocks, his own feathers on one very risky occasion - in the shape of an ‘A’ on Crowley’s desk. Easily removed or overlooked, but there for an observant demon.

(Later, when the world fails to end, Aziraphale will reach into Crowley’s pockets and find his feathers there, tied together with string. He’ll have to swallow back the tears that he knows do not suit Crowley’s face and mentally promise a thousand feathers to his demon if this works)

They make it work, their unspoken secret.

Crowley sleeps after their fight. Sleeps longer than any time before, and Aziraphale…

Aziraphale sighs down at the unconscious body of his… his Crowley and steps back.

No. He can’t.

He leaves a single black feather - picked up from the floor - on Crowley’s desk, in a way that would start an ‘A’ if he were to leave one.

Aziraphale takes the other demonic feather he finds on the floor. He’s weak, and he knows it.

But he can’t help himself.

They don’t share a bed the night the bombs drop on a church in London, but that’s mostly because they don’t actually sleep that night. Instead, Aziraphale spends it cleaning the burn wounds of a peeved demon, while said demon huffs and puffs and lets him do it.

The next night, Aziraphale slips into his bed, his demon already dozing there and finds himself watching instead of reading.

Dawn breaks and he doesn’t rise.

‘Angel,’ Crowley mutters, sounding like he’s asleep. ‘It’s dawn.’

‘I know.’ Aziraphale bites his lip. ‘Just a moment longer…?’

Crowley nods and drops his head a little more. ‘A moment longer.’

Aziraphale leaves his bed when dawn breaks the next day, his moment stretched as long as he can justify.

He doesn’t see Crowley leave.

The secret hangs heavier from then, a silence deafening in what it contains. They don’t share a bed anymore, the weight of the risk too heavy for either one to bear.

But Aziraphale craves.

He wants the solid shape of Crowley in his bed. The warmth of his demon as he sleeps, the weight of his blind trust in Aziraphale a burden he longs to bear. He desires to feel Crowley’s forehead beneath his lips, the softness of his hair in Aziraphale’s fingers-

Aziraphale just wants, in ways he knows angels shouldn’t…

But he knows now, he can never have it again.

Then, the world ends.

Or, more accurately, it doesn’t end.

Suddenly, they are free.

After the Ritz, after a long detour filled walk arm in arm to the bookshop, they arrive just as the sun sets.

‘Tired my dear?’ Aziraphale asks as he lets them into the bookshop.

Crowley grunts. ‘A little.’

Aziraphale pauses and looks towards his bed. ‘Inventory can wait until morning… if you want me to-’

‘Angel,’ Crowley says, grabbing Aziraphale’s hand and placing a soft kiss to it. ‘Yes.’

And looking his demon in the eyes, Aziraphale squeezes Crowley’s hand and lets his demon lead him to bed.

Which they will share.

Openly.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #My Scribbles #fluffbruary 2022 #ineffablysweet #it got long #oop

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fandom-scatteredthoughtsonpaper · 4 years ago

Text

Trying to dig around for Obey Me-themed templates to work on for my OM MCs I've realized a lot are geared towards artists rather than writers, so I've thrown together a basic thing to work with since I can't draw lol

Feel free to use with your own OM characters!

Obey Me MC / OC Written Template - Blank Version!

Personal - Basics

[Name]

[Race/Species]

Demon [] Angel [] Human [] Other: []

[Age]

[Birthday]

[Height]

[Fingernail Polish Color(s)]

[Hair color/description]

Personal - In-depth

[Gender or no | Pronoun(s)]

[Sexual/Romantic Orientation or lack thereof]

[Occupation Before Devildom Life]

[Favorite Color(s)]

[Personality]

MBTI:

Ennagram:

Zodiac:

Personal - Other

[Likes]

[Dislikes]

[Positive Traits]

[Negative Traits]

Relationships

[With Demons]

Lucifer -

Mammon -

Leviathan -

Satan -

Asmodeus -

Beelzebub -

Belphegor -

Diavolo -

Barbatos -

[With Angels]

Simeon -

Luke -

Michael -

[With Humans]

Solomon -

Favorite Things About the Devildom

[Favorite Job(s)]

[Favorite Place(s) to Hang at]

[Favorite Food(s)]

[Favorite Class Subject(s)] {You can check out this awesome list by @hyper-super-clover for ideas or be creative}

[Favorite Devildom Version of Something from the Human World - Be Creative!]

Least Favorite Things About the Devildom

[Least Favorite Job(s)]

[Least Favorite Places to Go]

[Least Favorite Foods]

[Disliked Class Subject(s)] {You can check out this awesome list by @hyper-super-clover for ideas or be creative}

[Stuff that Can be Considered a Negative About the Devildom]

Personality Chart

This is free to use, no credit required but appreciated! Feel free to add or take away pieces, and remember to have fun

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me oc #obey me template #obey me mc template #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me belphegor

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xhaotixaesthetica · 3 years ago

Note

also! genuinely curious but if let’s say all of the yandere ateez members fell for the same girl, who would win? (sounds like the hunger games lmfao)

I'm going to answer this as a drabble in this ask, so here we go. I hope this makes sense, because I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone toward the end of this and my writing wasn't making sense, but I think that it's good enough.

Yandere!Ateez Fighting over the Same Darling

For the sake of this ask, Wooyoung isn't a demon and Seonghwa isn't rich, because I want to evaluate them in equal standing, purely based on their abilities and personalities and not their resources.

I'm not going to lie, it didn't take me long to come to a conclusion on this: the winner would come down to Yeosang and Jongho.

Jongho would win.

I'm going to go through and list each member's downfall.

Hongjoong wouldn't win because of how physically abusive and obsessed with appearances he is. His whole M.O. depends on making people believe that he has the perfect relationship with Y/N, because if even one person starts getting suspicious about the abuse, it's over for him. He's far too abusive to not notice the signs once you get a whiff that something is wrong. Once someone noticed, I don't think it would take long for the authorities to get involved. Plus, his control over his S/O hinges almost entirely on whether they can escape his financial and physical abuse. If they have a hidden bank account or they can fight, he's not going very far, especially since Y/N likely wouldn't have an emotional attachment to him to make themselves stay.

Seonghwa, honestly, isn't a very effective yandere without his financial resources. He's not willing to get his hands dirty by forcing his s/o to stay or threatening their loved ones, and his coldness means he has no charisma to lure Y/N in or persuade them to stay with him when he starts acting strangely. Their friends and family would be on high guard against him, since there is something so obviously wrong. This is especially true when combined with his obvious lack of social awareness. He was raised to follow his parent's orders and those orders only stretched to things that had to do with ambition, not with any social situations. He doesn't know the proper way to act and therefore, he doesn't know what behaviors he should hide and how. There would be so many red flags about him and the relationship at the beginning that I think it would be unlikely that Y/N would get very attached to him before they wanted to break up, especially since Seonghwa doesn't really display any warmth or affection that makes them want to stay with him. And without any charm, connections, or persuasive skills, it wouldn't be too hard for Y/N to rally their support system or law enforcement into action if Seonghwa did something particularly outrageous.

Yunho is, in some ways, the easiest yandere to defeat, and that's what makes him the hardest to get away from. Yunho would actually be in my top three of ateez yanderes that would be the hardest to defeat, and that's because his secret lies in making Y/N want to fight for him. Yunho isn't really predisposed to violence against his darling or to anyone else around them, but, as we have discussed, he is extremely prone to self-harm. This self-destructive tendency paired with his doting, affectionate, devoted nature toward his s/o creates a savior complex in his partner where, no matter how unhealthy they know it is, they can't help but always want to step in and solve all of Yunho's problems and shield his from the world. Yunho can't help but attract people who want to fix and protect him. Yunho will never have to lift a finger to his darling and, whether he acknowledges it or not, his manipulation tactics are so strong that they would find themselves making their whole relationship revolve around him before they even know what's happening. His S/O would be willing to fight to the death against the other yanderes, just to see Yunho's happy bashful smile. And while Yunho might not be prone to violence against others, there's no telling how his demeanor might change once someone becomes a threat to his S/o's safety. He might not win, but he would definitely be in the top three.

San is just far too unstable. He has two major moods, "Regular" San and "Other" San, and neither mood/thought pattern is stable enough to go up against a more advanced yandere like Jongho or Yeosang. While unpredictability can be a great asset, and to some extent, it would be for San, it would mostly just mean he doesn't have a clear enough head to deal with the situation. Not to mention the fact that San as a yandere isn't very clever, cool, or calculating at all. His strengths lie in his sadism and the levels of violence he's willing to go to in order to achieve his desires. However, this strength is impeded by his lack of ability to think ahead and see the bigger picture. The other yanderes would be playing chess, and he wouldn't even be playing checkers. He came to have a good time, not to win, lol. (Thank you to the person who let me know I forgot San, my literal Ateez ult, lmao.)

Mingi is just too damn hot-headed. Granted, his bold-faced aggression and intimidation tactics would work on many people, but the second he's faced with a yandere that plans ahead and is very subtle and tactile like Yeosang, it would be through for him, Mingi isn't used to subtly or manipulation. Everything he's gotten in life, he's acquired through bulldozing everyone in his way and that just wouldn't cut it in this scenario. Not to mention, he's built up such a negative reputation in his community, that everyone would be watching his significant other like a hawk for any signs of misgivings and would carry them away from Mingi at the slightest hint that something's wrong. Mingi does have certain qualities that would entice his s/o into trying to stay with him of their own volition, but these qualities wouldn't appeal to most people, and it would take someone incredibly soft-spoken and people pleasing who would find his nature attractive in the slightest.

Wooyoung is another one that doesn't have much outside of his demonic resources. He's used to being the most powerful one in the room only be his powers and using those powers to bully and intimidate everyone around him into submission. Without those powers, he's kind of lost. He's certainly better off than Seonghwa. Wooyoung is attractive and smooth and well-spoken, so he would definitely dazzle someone at first. But that can only last for so long, and then it would take about a week for the cracks to begin showing in the relationship. He doesn't know how to emotionally communicate at all, and he doesn't really know any manipulation tactics that don't involve torture. He's willing to get his hands dirty, but without his powers, he's sloppy and inefficient and would be caught without much fanfare. He'd get way farther than Seonghwa, but that's really not saying much.

In the second place, we have Yeosang. He, obviously, has a lot of advantages in this fight. He's a literal serial killer, so he obviously has experience with violence, fighting, and, more importantly, getting away with it. He's also demonstrated incredible aptitudes in manipulation as we saw when his darling became pregnant. He's wonderful at planning ahead, and he has a well-respected facade that would get him far in the eyes of the law and of the people around him. So what, then, would be his downfall? The fact that he enjoys killing. I've said this before and I'll say it again but Yeosang is the type of yandere who would purposefully dress his s/o up to look really nice just so he can flaunt them in public and have an excuse to kill people who look at his s/o. He loves the thrill of killing, the knowledge that he's smarter than most others and that's why he'll continue to get away with it. This would ultimately blind him in a fight against a yandere like Jongho, who finds neither joy nor disgust in the act.

And the winner is JONGHO. I don't know if this is the obvious choice to anyone else, but it's the obvious choice to me. Jongho is willing to do whatever it takes simply for the happiness of his s/o, without taking any care of the potential gains for himself. He would have his s/o on his side due to his doting, fun, devoting nature, and he would be willing to acquiesce to their every whim, even if they wanted him to leave. He also has the edge on other yanderes since he's not impeded by a jealous or possessive nature. He's smart and meticulous, unlikely to commit a crime of passion. The only time his hand would even be tried is if someone hurt his s/o, and even then, he doesn't enjoy killing enough to go about making a mess of things. He could easily blend into the shadows and just watch the object of his affection forever, watching over them for the rest of their lives without them ever having any knowledge of him.

Most of the other yanderes would be pretty easy for him to beat. He has the edge over Yunho because, despite how devoted Yunho's s/o would likely be to him, Jongho would see how miserable Yunho was making them and would have no qualms about making his death look like an accident. The S/O would be devastated, but it would be hard not to see the merits of a life without the kids of strife that Yandere!Yunho brings. Yeosang would make his mistake in that he's willing to hurt his s/o once they find out the truth about him, and his sadistic nature means that he enjoys it. He's logical but his bloodthirsty nature means that it's easy for him to succumb to crimes of passion and make mistakes. Jongho would be angry about him hurting the object of their affection and that would be reason enough to dispatch him. Yeosang's jealous nature would mean that he would be incredibly angry and make stupid mistakes, namely trying to keep Jongho alive so he can draw out his death more. Jongho's raw physical strength would allow him to easily overpower Yeosang.

You are in: The Asteroid Belt

#asks answered #request #anon request #yandere ateez request #yandere ateez drabble

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the-tattler · 2 years ago

Text

Dear Faithful Readers,

Truly, Vievecor, I asked for the dramatics in my last issue and you did not disappoint…

But murder? Truly, your artistry knows no bounds.

You all seemed worthy suspects in this authors eyes, but it seems the person with the biggest flare for the dramatics is currently sitting nameless in a cell. Don’t be dull, Council, let’s hear what you have to say on the matter. Or is one of your honourable members too busy pretending to be the Hugh Hefner of the supernatural world to attend? Dear Mister Voros, please do stop tending to your harem, let them get some air and escape your dungeon for a moment, and allow us some of your attentions instead. Or at the very least, show us where we can apply to join. I suppose my question for the council of elders would be… what if your victim simply deserved it? Let the pretty thing go. Mistakes happen and consequences are avoided in this city all the time, right?

Your author digresses…

While most of Vievecor struggled to come to terms with the loss while others struggled to conceal their truly very suspicious natures even more, it didn’t stop your faithful servant from noticing a few things…

How is it that a prisoner can become an attendee at our annual spirit party? Zamok sounds like it needs better defences, even if it is letting out our outrageously gorgeous jailbird, Judas Samara, who lately seems to be hungry for every powerful woman in the city. It’s no wonder he didn’t have time to add to his victim list.

The Thoda Laal pack leader, Esme, for example… seems to have landed herself in a spot of boy trouble with this very same matter. Do you need your new omega AND a convict to keep you satisfied Miss Bheriya? Perhaps you made the wrong choice in mate. In the very least, there’s one less lone wolf on our streets, tucked up safely at your feet.

And Miss Montagu, we’re overjoyed to find you on Mister Samara’s list. Maybe you’re not as well behaved as you would have people believe, after all. Rumour came to us that you hadn’t been feeling well recently, though clearly well enough for this. But we’re not finished unveiling Miss Montagu just yet, it seems she’s been dating a witch despite our beady eyes detecting some unresolved feelings with one of our favourite demons in the city. And no, for once we’re not taking about Mister Alexander. He seems to have stayed off our radar this month, though that tends to happen when the entire vampire community are fangs-deep in your throat…

But a witch you say? Our sources say this particular witch has a talent for dealing in illegal magical animals. You can get into all sorts of trouble for that, you know. We didn’t have you down to be testing the law so much, Miss Montagu, but I suppose with a woman as pretty as the witch in question - what is the law? But what happens when your ex lover is spotted disappearing into the fog with your new honey? We are all warned not to trust a demon, after all.

Not that our fallen girl didn’t grasp every opportunity she could get to have her way with most party guests that night. Let’s hope she managed to keep the blatant lack of control over her emotions in check for long enough to at least seal the deal with one of them. While others might discourage the temper tantrum’s of a demon… I say you’re welcome to have as many outbursts as you like, Miss Kassin. The forest may run out of rocks to crush into dust however…

Now an issue wouldn’t be an issue without an update on our woeful Remington’s… this time with some news to perk up the ears of even the dullest of sorts. Our long lost Mrs Remington has been spotted around the city…one can only assume this will cause more trouble in Elijah’s already turbulent life. While Elijah appears to still be hung up on his ex wife, how will her return affect Little Miss Library and those big, worried brown eyes? He’s already hung up on his work, now she has returned too, will he have any time for you at all?

Though I suppose she has her own demons to wrestle with, the keeper of Elijah’s heart might not be the first on her list… Isn’t she still married herself? I wonder how her husband would feel should he ever arrive in Vievecor to find her tucked up in bed with Elijah Remington, or better yet, with Hemi Te Koha. She had enough practise with that at the party, after all. Maybe Miss Weiss just enjoys sleeping with men for the power. You wouldn’t be the first, honey. Either way, please send us a comparison of the two.

And all this time this author was led to believe that Hemi was dating the deity? Miss Mercy Edwards. At least Mister Grimaldi will be relieved to know that she’s not ensnared in shadows at this very moment.

With the spooky season just around the corner, I don’t doubt that your escapades will delight this author to no end. Let’s try not to kill anyone this time, Vievecor.

Until next time,

The Tattler

#the tattler: issue two

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luminari-mc · 3 years ago

Text

My Human, My Sunshine - Part 1

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort.

Pairing: GN!MC x Mammon

Word count: 5194

Summary: Mammon finds himself lost in the human world. Meanwhile, MC can't get ahold of Solomon, their phone dead silent.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: My first writing piece for Obey Me! It's kind of a long one so I recommend you grab a snack or two during it. While this part is occupied by a good amount of text messages between Mammon and someone else, I'm already thinking of writing a part 2 which will have way more dialogue. In the meantime, please enjoy this little scenario I came up with after listening to a song that set me in an angsty mood. :)

______________________________________________________

Wet. Cold. Exhausted. And completely lost.

Mammon felt all of those, and yet, his legs kept on marching into the dead of night, his jacket covering his head despite being too drenched to protect him from the rain anymore. Each time a droplet of water came rolling on his cheek, his wrist would come to brush it off, and Mammon would let out an annoyed groan. If only there were any shops open, but the city was definitely asleep. He was thankful for the crashing sound of the rain on the ground around him, along with the smell of the wet asphalt keeping himself awake, otherwise, he surely would have gone crazy by now. The demon had even lost count of how many hours he had been wandering through the streets, how many mailboxes he had checked, how few passersby he had come across, only to receive negative answers to his questions.

And so Mammon kept on walking, not sure where to go next. But he felt sure of one thing: he wouldn't stop moving until he had found what he was looking for. Be there rain, or no rain. Lost or not.

"Tch, the human world's weather really sucks..."

As he walked on the pavement, his brow furrowed from the lack of new clues as to where his destination was supposed to be. His eyes caught sight of a bakery he had already walked by earlier during the day, its gentle light piercing the darkness that had been accompanying him for far too long now. Mammon's brow furrowed slightly at the sight- he knew he had gone in circles time and time again, but seeing it confirmed once more rubbed him the wrong way. Despite that, he decided to walk towards it, and took shelter under the entrance's porch. Surely the owners wouldn't mind him checking his phone for a few minutes, right? Right.

Pinching between his fingers the precious D.D.D. he had tucked under his shirt to protect it from the rain, Mammon looked at the map again. His stomach dropped for the upteenth time upon seeing the address still showing in his search bar, the letters and numbers taunting him. A knot formed in his throat as he tried his best not to scream at his screen.

"It wasn't there, you idiot..."

His mouth formed into an angry pout. Mammon looked into the list of potential addresses he had made throughout the day, and all had been crossed out. He felt his jaw clench- not only was he left with no addresses, no other clues, no humans to help him, but also that stupid rain surely would keep on falling for the rest of the night.

He was truly cursed.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!" Mammon groaned, his free hand reaching upward to grab at his hair in frustration.

Yes... that was a good question. What was he supposed to do? It wasn't like he could ask help from any of his brothers, or from the angels. It had already been a miracle a witch he knew accepted to snuck him into the human world without anyone knowing, but there was no way he'd get any more help from her without offering his own life in exchange. And contacting Solomon was absolutely out of the question, for his own obvious reasons that he still was suspicious of the guy.

For the longest time in a while, Mammon felt alone. More alone than he had ever been before. He had promised himself to go on this search on his own, stupidly thinking that it'd be over by the end of the day, and look where that got him. Lost in the human world, on the verge of catching some nasty human virus from all this rain that had poured on him, and without anyone by his side.

The grip on his phone tightened, the hand holding it shaking slightly as the anger was starting to consume the demon. Even Mammon's patience had its limits, and he was starting to reach it.

"Dammit, where the hell are ya-"

A pathetic yelp escaped his mouth as he looked in fear at his phone, which had buzzed for a very short second in his palm. Wait, was it a notification? But from who? He had taken all the necessary precautions before leaving, so who was still able to reach his number?

His mind ran through all possibilities as he quickly checked his screen, the name of the sender making him open his eyes wide.

Leviathan: Mammon!!

Leviathan: Where are you???

Leviathan: You promised me you'd play this new game with me after coming home from RAD, don't tell me you forgot?? It's been HOURS.

Leviathan: Also the others say they can't reach your DDD and Lucifer is seriously pissed!

Leviathan: And I know you didn't break your DDD, that wouldn't explain why I can send texts now and the others still can't. Even though mine didn't work before.

Leviathan: But do you know how much time and effort it took me to find a way to bypass a blocked number?? Well guess what, the same amount of hours since you broke your promise!

Leviathan: You're reading this, right? Then send something! Anything!

Mammon backed even more into the porch of the shop, his eyes stuck to the screen of his phone. All of the blood rushing to his head suddenly made him forget he was cold in the first place. Of course Levi would be the first to find a way to contact him.

The demon's chest rose as he breathed in heavily, his hands slowly wrapping around the phone. It took him a hot minute to get ahold of his trembling fingers so as to not make any typos, his mind debating whether responding was a good idea or not, even as he hit the send button.

Mammon: Sorry Levi, gonna have to postpone the gaming session.

Mammon: I got business elsewhere and I'm not sure when I'll come back home, if ever.

Leviathan: Ew stop sounding so gloomy, you're almost starting to sound like me and tbh it would be kinda creepy.

Leviathan: That still doesn't tell me where you are! I know it's like a common thing for you to get into shady stuff on a regular basis but even Lucifer seems concerned, and weirdly enough he's not even trying to hide it???

Leviathan: He's been pacing back and forth in the common room for 20 minutes and won't let go of his phone it's starting to creep me out.

Leviathan: Hey huh, if you really were in big trouble you'd let us know, right? Like, even by typing a secret message to let us know that you got kidnapped or whatever?

Leviathan: Nevermind, I really don't see why you'd even get kidnapped, so it HAS to be that you chose to disappear by yourself.

Leviathan: But anyway! It's been 2 months now since everyone's been acting weird and I've seen and heard you enough to CLEARLY see that you're getting worse but finding trouble with witches or whatever won't help you feel better. And yes I know you've been faking being fine the entire time!! Don't think you can fool me!!

Leviathan: Believe me and the hundreds of figurines I bought!! I thought they'd help and it's somehow doing nothing, I feel like the worst fraud of an otaku EVER!!! How can I call myself an otaku when I can't even find joy anymore in the things that make an otaku what he is??

Leviathan: It's like I'm losing my identity! Wait no screw that, it's not just me, we've all been losing it!!

The three dots of a message being typed disappeared and reappeared, and Mammon couldn't do anything but watch the messages of his brother pop up one after another on his screen. A sense of guilt surfaced inside of him, and it only made him frown. It's not as if he hadn't thought about asking Levi for help, before getting himself into this mess... but for both of their sakes, he had decided that it had to be him coming here, and only him.

But suddenly, just as he expected his brother to send another message, the three dots disappeared, and didn't come back right away. Mammon's focus on his phone increased at the unexplained absence of new texts from Levi, and he waited, expecting him to continue the chain of messages he had started. But nothing followed.

It wasn't in Levi's habits to suddenly stop texting in the middle of a flood of texts. The demon gripped his phone tighter, worry beginning to grow within his mind. Was it because they were in different worlds that their phones couldn't reach properly? Or worse- had Lucifer found him out?

His heart almost skipped a beat as the three dots reappeared under his eyes, before letting another message pop up.

Leviathan: wait

Leviathan: waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait

Leviathan: OMG NO WAY

Leviathan: MAMMON TELL ME YOU'RE KIDDING

Mammon: I literally haven't said anything?

Leviathan: YOU PERFECTLY KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT

Leviathan: DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE IN THE HUMAN WORLD RN??

Shit.

How did he even find out?! Well... he could only assume that it wouldn't take a genius to figure out where Mammon could have gone if not anywhere in the Devildom, but still, why did Levi have to type it out? His plan was supposed to be flawless after all.

Mammon: Sorry bro, I can't say where I am.

Mammon: I know Lucifer's bound to check all of your DDDs sooner or later and that's only gonna help him find me.

Mammon: And like I said, I have something to do, so I can't come back.

Leviathan: Wait! I'll delete all of our messages, and I'll even destroy my DDD if it means you tell me why you're there

Leviathan: Actually no don't even answer, there can only be one reason you took that kind of risk

Leviathan: Is it... because of MC?

Upon reading their name again, Mammon felt his stomach sink. The eyes of the Avatar of Greed closed almost instantly as if to avoid reading it, the damp air whistling through his teeth as he breathed in deeply. Of course Levi would figure that out too. Any of his brothers could have.

The demon leaned his head against the wall behind him, his eyes opening and staring into nothing as he contemplated telling Levi about his plan. It wasn't as if he had any backup plans considering the situation he was in, after all. And Levi had the advantage of being at home, and having access to technology and magic that could improve his search further. But the thought of Lucifer figuring everything out still haunted him, making the hair on his skin stand straight.

And yet... At this point, he had nothing else to lose.

Mammon: Ya gotta promise not to tell anyone about this.

Leviathan: Who do you take me for? I'm not a snitch!

Leviathan: Especially if it's about MC.

Leviathan: But huh... what about Lucifer? You know that if when he finds out you went to the human world, he's going to kill you.

Mammon: Fuck Lucifer.

Mammon: I'm tired of hearin' him say he's "taking care of it". He clearly knows something but won't tell any of us and I'm tired of not getting any news from MC since they left the Devildom 2 months ago.

Mammon: And what's with his excuse about them not havin' their DDD anymore to contact us? I call that a load of bullshit.

Mammon: Something weird happened and Lucifer's too stuck-up to let us know what it is.

Mammon: So I'm done waiting around to see when they'll come back, or IF they'll even come back. So I'm going to get them myself.

Mammon: Problem is, I went to MC's place, and they weren't there. Their neighbor told me that they moved out a while ago with, get this, "a guy with white hair".

Leviathan: ??????? Solomon?????

Mammon: I'd bet my Demonio and all the things I possess that it's him.

Mammon: Not only Lucifer's in on this secret thing about MC, but Solomon too. I've already booked him an appointment with my fists if he did anythin' to them.

Mammon: Hell, even Diavolo and Barbatos seem to be in it too, which sucks even bigger time.

Mammon: So that means it's just us 6 who don't know shit. I wasn't about to play nice and dumb for Lucifer any longer.

Leviathan: Mammon

Leviathan: I never thought I'd ever write something like that to YOU

Leviathan: but

Leviathan: you sound super cool rn!! That just makes me wish I could have gone too!!

Leviathan: Pleasepleaseplease let me help!!! I'm also worried about MC and I miss having them here. The atmosphere at the house has sucked ever since we realized we couldn't text or call them anymore and I huh... kinda miss seeing them around the others too.

For a split second, Mammon considered taking a screenshot of Levi's last message to sell it as "the proof that the Avatar of Envy can control his jealousy!", but now wasn't the time for that. He had Levi's approval for helping him find the whereabouts of MC, and that's all he needed at the moment. He hadn't even noticed his lips turning into a small grin upon reading his brother offering his support.

Mammon: Alright Levi listen.

Mammon: All I'm tryin' right now is to find where MC might be.

Mammon: I don't think they left the place I'm at, but I ain't about to search at every damn house there is here. Would take too much time anyway.

Mammon: So can ya use your shut-in powers and figure somethin' out? Like I don't know, catch their human phone's signal or whatever through hacking?

Leviathan: Lol? I'll let you know it's not because I spend my entire days in my room that I know how to find a human phone!

Leviathan: I know how to hack yeah, but I don't know how to hack human technology! Not that I maybe tried once or twice and it resulted in failure each time.

Leviathan: But huh... I could try?

Leviathan: Let me ask Satan if we could use magic too.

Mammon: Satan? Levi, are you stupid? Last thing we want is to get more people to know about what I'm doing.

Leviathan: Oh huh yeaaaah, about that.

Leviathan: I should have told you sooner, but when I stopped answering earlier it's because Satan caught me texting you.

Leviathan: But he actually knew you had left to the human world! So we don't have to worry! He's on our side... obviously.

Mammon: Then the two of you get on it.

Mammon: And don't catch Lucifer's attention.

Leviathan: Yeah!

Leviathan: I'll let you know when we've found something.

Leviathan: BRB!

And then just like earlier, Levi's texts stopped appearing on his screen. A sigh left Mammon's lips as he closed his eyes, and the demon allowed his body to slide against the wall behind him until he was sitting on the ground. As he stretched out his sore body, the second-born finally realized that after two whole months of not getting to hear MC's voice, seeing their smile, getting to touch them... he had gotten closer to finding them, all thanks to his brothers. He had let Lucifer's intimidation get the best of him throughout all this time, but not anymore. No matter whether his older brother would catch wind of where he was, and what he was doing, Mammon would never stop trying to bring back MC where they belonged. With him, in the Devildom, back with the family they had found and grown to love.

Closing the messaging app with his thumb, the picture of MC he had set as his D.D.D. background seemed to radiate like the sun. How dared them all try to separate his human from their first man? From the one who'd they come to whenever they had a nightmare and couldn't fall asleep? The demon who'd hug them as tight as possible in their bed after a long day at RAD? The one who'd had the chance to fall asleep with them, getting the absolute honor of seeing their face so close to his, and who'd protect their dreams from any bad thoughts and scary nightmares?

The anxiety that Mammon had worn on his face all day slowly disappeared, and a small smile was placed upon it instead as his eyes met MC's in the picture.

"I'm almost there. Ya just gotta be patient a little more."

I'll find ya.

Time went on as Mammon waited for any news of Levi and Satan's research. The rain showed no sign of clearing soon, and the demon was starting to doze off after spending his entire day without taking a single break. He could have almost fallen asleep if it hadn't been for the owner of the bakery opening the door to close his shop and asking him to sit somewhere else. So Mammon moved from one spot to another, and took shelter near another store instead.

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting on the stone steps he had sat on, his phone's screen flashed a bright light as a new notification from Levi appeared from the top. Quickly passing his wrist on his tired eyes, Mammon tapped on the new message at the speed of light. The contents made him gasp, and for a second, he had almost forgotten how to breathe, as his now wide-open eyes were glued on the content of the message.

A full-on address, along with a picture of the place.

Mammon instantly stood up at the sight of the picture, the memories of his day resurfacing in a flash. He remembered very clearly seeing this particular building sometime during his search- its height had been making it stand out very easily amongst the other buildings in the city. Nobody couldn't mistake it with anything else.

Mammon: This is it?

Leviathan: Yeah, we placed down a map and confirmed it was there.

Leviathan: Satan actually found a book in his room with a spell that can help find a person's specific item with just some of their DNA.

Leviathan: So we went to MC's room and found some hair that Satan used for the spell, along with his phone so it could narrow down the list of MC's items.

Leviathan: I didn't think Satan's room could look even more of a mess, but he spent 10 minutes shoveling through his collection and now you can't even see the floor or his bed anymore lol

Leviathan: Anyway now that you got what you wanted, go and check if MC is there!

Mammon felt his legs move on their own as he flipped his jacket above his head and stepped under the rain again, a confident grin now brightly adorning his face as he typed on his phone to reply.

Mammon: Thanks Levi. I'll owe ya one.

Leviathan: Find MC and bring them back. Then you can consider us even.

Mammon nodded, a newfound hope filling his entire body and mind. After confirming that Levi had ceased texting him, the demon turned the phone off. He opened his hand to drop it on the wet floor, and let his right foot crash down upon it, the object almost breaking in half. Mammon promptly gathered in his hand the shattered item, now completely unusable, and threw it down a nearby sewer before letting his excitement take the best of him and sprint further in the direction of the building from the picture. At least, now Lucifer wouldn't be able to track him down with it if Levi and Satan got caught.

The more distance he covered, the more Mammon could swear he was about to take on his demon form at any moment. The thoughts of MC began to fill his head even more, as if they were the one pushing him to find them, to get to them as soon as possible. For the first time in 2 months, Mammon felt truly alive.

"Almost there. The Great Mammon's coming for ya, MC!!" he let out in the form of an encouragement to himself, his legs having found their energy again as his form was engulfed further into the city.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Anxiously pacing around the room, their head low and their phone in their hands, MC was growing more and more impatient. They were supposed to receive an update from Solomon about three hours earlier in the form of a phone call, but no matter the amount of messages they'd spent in the hopes of the wizard finally answering them, all they received was a dreadful silence. Grabbing a nearby chair, they let their body fall onto the seat as their fingers typed yet another message. They couldn't really understand how they had come to grow so persistent when it came to getting Solomon to reply to them, but having no other person to talk to ever since they left the Devildom 2 months prior would do that to anyone, they assumed.

'Solomon, sorry, I know I'm sending a lot of texts, but you said you'd visit today and I'm starting to be worried and... honestly a bit lonely. I thought going out today would help, but I just sat in the park for an hour before going back home and not doing much of the day.'

'You were supposed to meet with other wizards today, right? I hope nothing bad happened. But in case you're alright, all I'm asking is just one reply to at least get some sort of human connection. Not that I had a lot of it in the past few months.'

They felt their throat tighten upon writing their last sentence, feeling the frustration spilling out of their own words right back into their face. But who could blame them?

2 months without seeing, hearing, or even texting their friends back in the Devildom. 2 months without receiving a single visit from Luke or Simeon. 2 months spent exclusively with the company of Solomon, who had been acting strange ever since and had made them move out of their home under the excuse that it was to "train them at magic in a more private setting". But more importantly... those had been 2 months without having Mammon around, and MC would lie if they said they hadn't spent several nights crying themself to sleep, wondering how the demon was dealing with their absence.

The memories of their latest departure from the Devildom played in their head like a movie as they placed a hand on their forehead. Everything had seemed alright at the time, with them getting to say their usual goodbyes to the brothers, wishing to see them again once the new year at RAD would start, foolishly thinking that they'd get to spend their time hearing their voices on a daily basis once they were back in the human world. And before they could understand, their DDD had been taken from them, Solomon had been more present in their life than ever before, and for a reason they still couldn't grasp, it was as if the brothers had vanished from their life completely. No news whatsoever. Complete radio silence.

Just thinking back to this period, and how they could have probably caught that something was up as soon as Diavolo asked for their DDD after the brothers had left... it just made them want to puke.

But nothing could make them want to do so as much as the long-awaited reply of Solomon appearing on their screen.

'Hi MC. I'm deeply sorry I couldn't get ahold of you throughout the day. I won't be able to visit you today, since my services are still required here. Besides, it's getting late. I recommend you go have a good night's sleep as soon as possible.'

'If everything goes smoothly, I should be able to come back tomorrow. Then, we'll be able to go walk wherever you want. How does that sound?'

'I need to be going, but I shall wish you a good night. Take care, MC.'

And just as quickly as he had answered, Solomon went silent again. Leaving them in this apartment they had grown to hate, this prison cell he had put them in. A place where no fun could be found for them. MC didn't even bother sending anything else after that.

Their head sunk even lower, until their forehead slowly met with the hard surface of the dinner table. The phone faceplanted onto the wood as MC's hands turned into hard fists, a deep groan shaking the walls of their throat. It was hard not to let the tears escape their eyes, but instead, they opted to punch the table several times as hard as they could, until they felt their anger diminish.

How long was Solomon going to act ignorant towards them? How long was he going to ignore their pleas to get news from the Devildom, anything that would let them know why they couldn't contact the brothers, Diavolo and Barbatos? Even if the lords had been in some sort of trouble... they'd still find time to talk to their human, right? There was no way Mammon, the one they loved, wouldn't try to reach them one way or another... right?

Him who had been so clingy in such an adorable way every time they'd be at the House of Lamentation, he who had revealed to them that there wasn't a single day where his thoughts wouldn't drift to them no matter how hard he tried...

No. No amount of important duties would explain why Mammon of all demons, would ignore them like that.

They missed his antics. His entire being. The warmth he'd bring them each time he'd hold their hand before tucking his face into their neck like a pouting child, desperately trying to sneak one or two kisses in there, in the hopes he'd get to hear that sweet giggle of them. It wasn't for nothing that Lucifer had come to name them the chaotic duo of the House of Lamentation. They were two parts of a whole.

And yet, the world had dared to separate them. And MC was tired, oh so tired of not having their other half near them. The only feeling they had left, was one of pure desperation to see their greedy demon.

"I'm not asking for much... even a single word would do." MC replied to no one as they turned their head to rest their cheek onto the table. They closed their eyes, the anger slowly being replaced by a profound exhaustion. Could they really do nothing but act normal around Solomon, and accept that this was now their new life? No demons, no angels, just... humans around them?

Before they could slap the thought away, a loud banging coming from the entrance door made them straighten in their seat, their head turning towards the hallway in a panic. Their heart pounded inside their chest as the banging seemed to go on forever, until they used the back of their chair to push themself up, their legs shaking.

"S...Solomon?" They asked, way too silently for anyone to hear, and fully knowing that the person behind the door couldn't be the wizard.

As if they were waiting for an answer, MC stood there, their hand grasped onto the chair. The banging was insistent, demanding, angry. At this time of night, there were few reasons they could think why someone would mistreat their door in such a way, and MC wasn't sure they wanted to find the reason for it.

That is, until the person behind the door finally let their voice be heard.

"Oi, MC! Ya can hear me right?! Come on, open the door!"

It didn't take long for MC to let the familiar voice enter their ears, and it took less time for them to nearly stumble over the chair as their legs moved in a hurry to lead them towards the door as quickly as possible. Their hands messily trying to open the locks on the door, they were sure their mind had just played a trick on them, and the person outside was going to leave them completely disappointed, but they didn't care. This voice they could only remember so well despite the time since they had last heard it, was simply inviting them to open the door, to check for themselves whether it was true, or just a nasty joke played by their brain.

But as the last lock was undone, and the door was swung open, MC couldn't do anything but just stand there, their mouth agape.

Mammon kept on drawing breaths, his wet hair stuck to his forehead and drops of rain falling from his clothes onto the floor below, so much so that it had started to create a small puddle underneath him. As if the person who opened the door wasn't the one he expected, the demon took a step back, letting his eyes wander up and down on the human he had in front of him, almost in an attempt to check if it was really them. He too, couldn't stop his mouth from hanging open at the sight.

The two of them just stood there for a few seconds, taken by so many emotions at once that they weren't sure what to do. But right as Mammon took a step forward, his mouth opening some more to let out words that he so desperately had wanted to say for so long now, MC's face contorted into one of pure sadness before they rushed towards him. Mammon greedily welcomed them into his arms as they jumped and wrapped their arms around his shoulders, and their legs around his waist. They buried their face into his neck, the warmth of their tears mixing with the rain on his skin.

His embrace only tightened even more as they mumbled his name amidst broken sobs, the sound ever so close to his ear that even though he had his eyes firmly closed, he might have cried on the spot too. But he had found them. He had them in his arms again. After what had seemed like a million years, finally, they were back where they belonged, and he was back with his human.

Almost as if they were about to be pulled away from him, Mammon placed a hand on the back of their head, wanting to protect their entire being from harm no matter the cost. He still wasn't sure why it had taken so long for him to reunite with them despite the obstacles, but at the present moment, nothing else could matter.

The lord had finally found them, and he wasn't about to let anyone interfer between their happiness once more.

"I ain't letting you go." He whispered through gritted teeth, his head lowering into their shoulder. "Ever again."

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revenge-of-the-shit · 3 years ago

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Racism, antisemitism, and anti-Jedi sentiment in Star Wars (Part 1/4)

via @shadowaccio6181 (submitted to me through an ask - the bolded stuff is what I have bolded from their submission!):

I wanted to take a leap and point some stuff out, I guess? Namely, racism and antisemitism in relation to fandom views on the Jedi. I'm not the most eloquent, and this isn’t the most polished, but I hope I can convey my thoughts to you clearly enough! (I also hope this makes sense.

Many anti-Jedi sentiments misrepresent things and take events out of context -- sometimes directly contradicting canon. Furthermore, a lot of the rhetoric has parallels with racist stereotypes and anti-semitic motifs (and these are just what I've found -- there's probably more). I wasn’t really comfortable trying to point them out without evidence I could refer to, but I think I’ve found enough sources listing out racist stereotypes—and anti-Jedi sentiments are common enough—that I wanted to put this out.

One of the first, which I notice a lot, is people saying that Mace Windu is angry, aggressive, unsympathetic, a criminal, etcetera, and therefore deserved to die. It’s usually in regards to Palpatine, and this misrepresents the movies, where he gave Palpatine multiple chances to surrender (at the very least, it’s pretty clear that his decision to kill Palpatine wasn’t impulsive or out of anger). Furthermore, he is commonly depicted in canon as rational, gentle, and kind — in TCW, he’s shown being exceptionally patient with Jar-Jar, among other examples. Therefore, this is not only a mischaracterization, but given the historical stereotype that is the “black brute” caricature (some references: 1, 2), it’s racist.

Commentary from me, Annessarose: yes, I absolutely agree. Much of the fandom hatred revolving around Mace Windu is suspicious, to say the least, and many of the arguments revolving around him often exaggerate his behaviours or cherry-pick them to take it out of context to portray him in an unreasonable and angry light. There are entire episodes that center around Mace and his compassion and strength and desire to do good (e.g. Liberty on Ryloth, The Zillo Beast, The Disappeared Parts 1 & 2).

That isn't to say that he isn't a flawed character. The way he spoke to Ahsoka after her trial was... not the best way to handle it. But for the love of god, let POC characters have flaws without catapulting them straight to the "they're 100% evil and deserved to die" end. The way fandom treats him with these flaws also mirrors how people treat POC in real life - the moment there's a single mistake or a flaw, any flaw at all, people will use it as an excuse to villify and demonize POC (and thus use it as an excuse for their racism). Mace Windu is a character who is good, who is kind, and who sticks to his principles, and the way he's hated on definitely points to an underlying issue of racism within the fandom.

"Another thing that we really can’t ignore about the Jedi is that they were intended as a parallel to Jewish people — the Jedi are a small cultural group (with some religiosity), the Empire is very clearly a parallel to the Nazis, and the Empire was very focused in hunting down and killing Jedi, specifically, amongst the the other atrocities they committed. To drive the point in further, there are at least a few Jedi with very Jewish names.

Common anti-semitic motifs include lack of national loyalty, global conspiracy, Jewish control, money and criminality, and the deicide myth. I’ll take some quotes directly from these sources (1, 2, 3, 4):

Lack of National Loyalty: “Jews are often subject to claims that they conspire to shape public policy for Jewish interests, or that their patriotism is less than that of other citizens.”

Global Conspiracy/Jewish Control: “In its standard modern formulation, the Jews or Zionists form a powerful, secret, global cabal that manipulates governmental institutions, banks, the media, and other institutions for malevolent purposes, undermining decent values. The Protocols of the Elders of Zion, a fraudulent document purporting to record a Jewish plan for world domination, has influenced countless ideas about supposed Jewish global conspiracies including, notably, ideas contained within the Hamas Charter. For example, these writings accuse the Jewish people of starting all modern wars. The myth of global Jewish conspiracy has echoes in contemporary opinions about the putative over-representation of Jewish people in various business sectors. This can be seen, for example, in representations of Jewish control over government, the media, academia, and financial institutions, especially when phrased in terms of a ‘Jewish lobby.’”

Money and Criminality: “Since medieval times, Jewry has frequently been depicted as a wealthy, powerful, menacing and controlling collectivity.” “Claims of Jewish control of and fascination with finances are as old as the New Testament, in which Jews are occasionally portrayed as moneychangers engaged in unholy practice at the Temple in Jerusalem. This continued into the medieval period, when Christians were forbidden from lending money at interest, leaving the field open to others. Since Jews were severely restricted from entering most trades and from owning agricultural land, some began to lend money. Since then, Jews have been depicted as wealthy, powerful and menacing.”

Jewish Deicide Myth: “From the early years of the Christian church, Jews have been condemned for rejecting the teachings of Jesus despite knowledge of his words and proximity to his presence. Worse, some Christians have condemned Jews for slaying the Christian messiah and have held Jews collectively responsible for this action. This view is associated with related doctrines such as the notion that Jews are sustained in a wretched condition in order to bear witness to the moral superiority of Christianity and to foreshadow the final triumph of Christianity at the end of days.”

Commentary from Annessarose: you're right. You're absolutely right. Thank you so much for researching this, and for writing about this. With the sources you've provided, it is extremely obvious how there's a fuck ton of anti-Semitic sentiment in the anti-Jedi hate.

So, I'd also like to add links from a couple of Jewish Fans who have spoken about antisemitism in Star Wars:

Watto, Toydarians, and antisemitism (would also like to add that there are a lot of articles on google that talk about this)

Antisemitism in the design of Clone Wars (2003) and The Clone Wars (2008)

This is part 1 of this ask!

[Part 2] | [Part 3] | [Part 4]

#star wars #fandom racism #important #racism #antisemitism #antiblackness tw #mace windu #jedi meta #the clone wars #clone wars #long post

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avaritia-apotheosis · 3 years ago

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Phantom Children Ch. 8

What's this? An update! Massive thanks to my betas for helping me get through this chapter <3

In Which: A few answers are given to the family and Danny is rudely awoken

[Side note: If you wanna know the general ages of the batfam, its listed in the AO3 version. I also talk about katanas in the end notes ^-^]

AO3 | Prologue | 7 | [ 8 ] | 9 DAMIAN INFORMED TODD—and Drake when he arrived on his bike sometime later on—that the boy whose face is plastered across the monitor was neither a picture of himself nor of Father.

Drake took one glance at the monitor and sighed, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Just when I thought this day was getting better.”

“What, did that café on 5th finally let customers supersize their drink?”

“God that would be the dream, wouldn’t it?” Drake sighed wistfully. “Nah, but I did get a lead on where some of that stolen Cadmus tech might’ve ended up. I was gonna spend the night following up on it, but I guess we have to deal with,” he gestured to the monitor, “whatever this is.”

Todd leaned against the edge of the computer, arms crossed over the red bat insignia on his chest. “What are we dealing with this time, brat? A clone? An alternate universe counterpart? Magic shenanigans?”

Maybe. Perhaps. All of those were perfectly valid conclusions for the enigma that was Daniel James Fenton. (Why Fenton and not al Ghul? Or even Wayne?)

Damian, too, was a genetic experiment; a ‘test tube baby’ as Drake put it at times. Damian was born for greatness, created to be perfect. The perfect soldier. The perfect assassin. The perfect heir. Was this boy—Daniel—like him as well?

A failed one, then. Perhaps the precursor to Damian’s own existence. But that would not explain why the boy was allowed to exist for so long. His grandfather demanded perfection, especially from those of his own blood. If the boy was a failure, he would have been eliminated immediately, not sent to live with some eccentric scientists in the Midwest.

Damian was not naïve enough to think that his mother and grandfather did not keep secrets from him. On the contrary, he expected it. The League of Shadows dealt in secrets as often as it did in death. Certain information was worth its weight in gold, whether it was given or buried away.

But he could not help the sharp pang in his chest. A lightning strike, quick and electrifying at the notion that they kept secrets about their family from him.

His father’s face flashed in his mind. The shock turned into a slow, dawning horror. That flicker of light, of recognition, as he scrutinized the contents of the flash drive and cross-referenced it with a public database.

And grief.

Damian recognized the grief.

Alfred, too, nearly dropped his tray of fresh-baked cookies when he stepped in front of the monitor. His usual unflappable demeanor was momentarily broken at his father’s whispered “Sixteen years. Alfred— he’s sixteen years old.”

His father knew of the boy. He was allowed to know of Daniel when he was not allowed to know about Damian.

------

Grayson returned to the cave with a distinct lack of energy in his step. His mask dangled off the tips of his fingers, chin angled downwards and covered largely by his hand. For a split second, their eyes met. Grayson shifted his gaze away, scratching the back of his neck. Father told him, then. Damian wondered how much Father revealed to his favorite son.

Damian clucked his tongue and buried himself deeper into the chair, arms crossed and pointedly looking away. If it was not for his accursed ankle, he’d have headed out to the training ring to take his frustrations out on the dummies.

“Oh, thank god you’re here, Dickface. Damian’s completely out of it.”

Damian shot him a look. “Shut up, Todd.”

“Leave him alone, Jay. Is Tim back yet?”

Drake emerged from the changing room in a dark green shirt, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. He took one long sip before exhaling. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“O-kay…” He pressed his hands together, mouth thinned into a grim line. “Uh, hey Tim, glad to see you back safe. Bruce is coming down soon to explain some things.” He let out a deep sigh, carding a hand through his hair. “This kind of thing would probably be better with the girls around, but I—god, I don’t know.”

Todd raised an eyebrow. “Don’t know whether to call Steph and Cass in Hong Kong, or don’t know what’s going on?”

“Yes.”

------

When Father arrived, Pennyworth following dutifully behind him, it was with an aching slowness in his gait. His steps measured and precise, preternaturally quiet as he made his way to stand by Damian’s chair. Damian sat up straighter, shoulders squared and back an inch away from the backrest. The rest, even Todd, stood at attention; an ingrained habit among Robins and an amusing instinct even among the senior heroes of the Justice League when it came to facing the Batman.

His father kept a steady hand on Damian’s shoulder, and Damian, shamefully, leaned into the touch; his head inclined towards his father’s hand so much so that he could feel the ends of his hair being pushed up slightly as he brushed against his father’s forearm.

He spoke with his usual monotone, as if he was heading a Justice League meeting as opposed to unveiling the secrets surrounding that boy. He brought forward the few photos they obtained from the flash drive. “A few weeks ago, we were alerted of suspicious movement from the League of Shadows in Amity Park, Illinois. Their objectives are, as of now, unclear, though it appears to be tied to the death of Amity Park resident, Daniel Fenton.”

One photo was a standard ID picture people get for their driver’s license, the lighting deliberately horrible so that any attempt to look decent would always end in failure. Another photo was a little better; a candid scene of him chatting with two others his age, a Caucasian girl in gothic-style clothes and an African-American holding a sleek, but still very outdated PDA. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners, hand reaching up to his face to stifle a laugh. There were other photos like this, some candid, others posed. At the forefront of each, a boy that looked too much like his father, too much like Damian.

His father glanced at the photos. He shut his eyes and when he opened them again, he fixed them on some distant stalactite in the Cave. “Around six months ago, Daniel was pronounced dead in a vehicular accident. A body was present, but according to police reports, he was identified via his driver’s license as opposed to any kind of DNA profiling.” He leaned over Damian’s chair to pull up a profile of Masters. “Our source—Vladimir Masters, mayor of Amity and a friend of the Fenton family—indicated his belief that Daniel is actually alive. I am inclined to agree.”

“He’s your son, isn’t he,” Drake said, more of a statement than a question.

Father gave a curt nod. “I cannot say for certain until I can perform a DNA test, but I highly suspect that to be the case.”

“First the demon spawn, now this. Great.” Todd made a hand motion towards the screen. “You know, Bruce, not knowing you have a kid once might be a coincidence, but twice? How do you do that?”

“As of three hours ago, I was still under the impression that my son never made it to term.”

“What?”

“Over sixteen years ago I was involved in a mission that put Ra’s and I on the same side. During that time, Talia and I entered a relationship that resulted in a pregnancy. Though initially ecstatic, she eventually led me to believe she miscarried the child and pushed me away. For what ends, I do not know, but trust me Jason, if I knew—” He paused, the hand that was not on Damian’s shoulder curled into a tight fist.

Father pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why she hid it from me then doesn’t matter. Why Talia wants him back now is important. Judging from Daniel’s records, he was adopted into the Fenton family as an infant and has since lived a seemingly normal life as a civilian. His adoptive parents, Jack and Maddie Fenton, are brilliant scientists and engineers focused on the field of paranormal studies. Eccentricities aside, they have zero connections to the League of Assassins or any other concerning parties.”

“So why now?” Dick asked, shifting his concerned gaze from Bruce to the static picture of Danny’s tired smile. “Why, after all this time, decide that now would be the best time to recover him?”

------

Danny’s experienced plenty of rude awakenings before, but waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to avoid his kidnapper-slash-assassin-slash-biological-mom launching a surprise attack takes the fucking cake. He can’t believe he’s saying this, but thank god for all those late night ghost attacks that conditioned him to be a light sleeper. And, of course, the League’s insistence that everyone be in optimal condition regardless of how little sleep you actually got.

Danny kicked Talia off of him, ripping his blanket away before scrambling to his feet. Seriously, if the universe decided to spontaneously give him powers again, he’d really like an upgrade to his ghost senses, please and thank you. Something that works on humans and not just ghosts. Like spidey-senses. He’d really, really like some spidey-senses.

“Your reaction times have improved considerably,” Talia said.

He eyed the katana sheathed beside his bedroll. “Thanks. Who could have guessed that constantly challenging someone to a spar in the unholy hours of morning would make them paranoid to sleep too much? Really, how am I supposed to grow taller at this rate? ” If he could just get it--

She smiled, taking a step forward. “Prepare yourself.”

“Heh.” Danny stepped further away from Talia, keeping his back to the mouth of the cave. One hand stretched in front of him and the other, coated in a green light, was kept hidden behind his back. “Am I actually gonna get some answers today?”

“Let us make it interesting. Last 10 minutes against me and I shall tell you more about your brother.” Talia twirled her blade. “If you happen to draw blood, you may ask any one thing of me.”

“Anything?”

“Within reason.”

His face caught between a grimace and a smile. He’d rather be sleeping right now, but if he had to be awake, then he’d better make the most of it. “Deal.”

Talia’s smile dropped. She veered her body to the right, barely dodging the streak of bright green that whizzed from behind her. The ectoplasmic energy that surrounded the katana bled away as the handle connected with Danny’s outstretched hand.

She quickly glanced back at Danny’s bedding. Beside it lay an empty sheath. “You have telekinesis?”

He shrugged. “It comes and goes.” Yeah, no way was Danny gonna admit that seven-out-of-ten-times he forgot that he had telekinesis. Besides, that shit was hard to do when he wasn’t Phantom.

“A surprise attack from behind is a sound strategy, Daniel. Though it’ll take a lot more than that to harm me.”

Danny pointed to the side of his cheek. “Are you sure about that?”

Talia frowned. She reached up to her face. Her fingers brushed against her cheek and came away with a thin streak of blood.

Danny grinned, pointing his blade at his opponent. “First blood goes to me.”

------

Fact: most fights don’t last long. An average street fight could last anywhere between 25 to 40 seconds, and sword fights rarely last over a minute. Like Talia said, the goal of a fight was to end it with as few injuries to oneself as possible. Humans, even the most skilled ones, can rarely last long in a fight. Prolonged combat is suicide; it makes you tired, makes your muscles heavy. It’s nothing like what Hollywood would have you believe.

Even with Danny’s own enhanced stamina and Talia holding back, he couldn’t last a full ten-minute spar. If Talia didn’t finish him within twenty-five seconds, then he’d fall by his own human limitations.

But the goal wasn’t to spar continuously for ten minutes.

He only had to last that long.

Danny sprinted out of the cave. The sun barely peeked out of the horizon, a thin line of deep orange breaking apart the wide expanse of blue-black sky above. He couldn’t see shit; great news since that meant there’s a good chance Talia couldn’t either, but that doesn’t fix the fact that he can’t see.

Nearly stumbling on the ice, Danny veered to the left. The edges of the lake stopped at towering rocks twice Danny’s height, leaving little room for cover. Though if he remembered correctly, there should be a few crevices here and there to hide in.

“You’ll have to be faster than that, Daniel.”

Shit—

Danny stopped. He brought his sword up to parry Talia’s strike and twisted away, putting distance between them.

Well, so much for just avoiding her for 10 minutes.

He adjusted his grip, keeping his sword steady and eyes trained on Talia as they circled each other. Danny lunged with an overhead strike. Talia used one hand to block the downswing by gripping his wrists. She thrust her sword forward, the tip harshly poking Danny’s abdomen.

“Less than three minutes.” Talia let his wrist go, Danny’s arms slumping to his sides.

He sighed as he sheathed his sword. “Damn, I thought I’d last longer than that.”

“You made a good effort,” Talia assured him. “Putting as much distance between us at the beginning was a good strategy. You recognized the win conditions immediately and attempted a battle of attrition.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am very proud of you habibi, especially as you managed to draw first blood.”

A warmth grew in Danny’s stomach at the words, heating his cheeks. Sheepishly, he scratched the back of his head. “I wasn’t entirely sure that would work, honestly.”

“It was clever; half a second later and you might have even killed me. You are an al Ghul through and through” She brushed his hair out of his face. “What would you like as your prize, then?”

Danny’s heart clenched. He frowned, dropping his arm to his side. If I was such an al Ghul, then why didn’t you keep me? The question lodged itself in his throat, stifling his thoughts. It was something he’d been wondering for a while, actually, in the moments of solitude he had at the compound. Talia, during their training, would always remark at his potential. How talented he was, how adaptable he was, how much greater he would have been if he had been trained at a younger age.

Well then, why wasn’t he? Why did she give him up?

But each time he tried to ask, his tongue would turn to lead and the moment would pass, the question still left unsaid and simmering at the back of his mind. A Pandora’s Box that held none of the world’s evil but all of Danny’s possible shortcomings.

He could ask the question now.

He could.

He didn’t.

“Why did you take me?”

Talia tilted her head. “It is because you’re my son.”

“No. Not that. It has to be something more than that. You had sixteen years to come back for me—or, hell, you could have just never left me.” His breath hitched, fingers mussing his hair and hiding his eyes. “Why else did you take me?”

“It is true that there was more than one reason why we decided to retrieve you from Amity Park. One of which is because you are my son and an heir of the Demon’s Head.” Talia stilled. The dark skies of dawn made it impossible for him to read her. “The second reason was to protect you.”

“You kidnapped me…to protect me?”

“Knowledge of the ghosts of Amity have spread through the more insidious parts of the world. There are many out there who would pay exorbitant fees to study one of you or to use you.”

Use him? What did she mean by—

Oh.

Ghosts—Amity Park’s brand of ghosts—were a new element that the world had to contend with. Amity Park might have a crime rate of zero but that wasn’t the case everywhere else. Theft, assault, murder; the world was rampant with crimes and criminals clawing their way to the very top. Having ghosts, even ones with the most basic powerset, would be a huge advantage.

“There’s no way that would work,” Danny insisted. “Most ghosts just want to be left alone, and the ones that want to wreak havoc would never work with humans. The only reason they even work with halfas like me at times is because they still consider us as ghosts.”

“If my sources are to be believed, ghosts might not even get a choice.”

Danny’s blood curdled in his veins.

No.

Someone’s found a way to control ghosts.

#danny phantom #batman #danny phantom x batman crossover #dp fic #phantom children.txt

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