#turns out god never showed up to the fight :I
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My hands are shaky and my head is refusing to work properly! But! I made it!
The Blurr chapter for Mecha au >:D
Blurr's job is not to fight for humanity.
Blurr's job is to smile for the camera and take the applause of people who praise him for his bravery and sacrifice. Blurr's job is to sell his face, his voice and his skills to millions of viewers. He must impress investors, show off advanced technology and make a determined face saying that to save mankind he is ready for anything. And then get in a luxury car and drive off to some expensive place to burn a whole bunch of zeros out of his paycheck.
He's not someone who stays after work to help his coworkers. And he's not the one who spends his nights trying to save as many people as possible. He signs autographs, makes big statements, and promises people he'll protect them.
And people believe him.
And they love him.
Swerve is sick of this spectacle. Swerve is sick of this man.
Under the cut
————————————
Nobody likes Blurr.
Okay, if you think on a large scale, everyone loooves Blurr. His face is on every poster, his brand is in every possible store, his voice and is in every cool commercial. You literally can't exist without knowing who Blurr is, or at least seeing his face once. It's a “Luke I'm your father” level phenomenon. How massive a rock do you have to live under to miss something like that?
Everybody loves Blurr. You can go buy a t-shirt with his face on it. You can go listen to his interviews or purchase a tiny replica of his action figure. There are incredibly many ways a Blurr fan can blow a hole in their budget.
Swerve knows, because he's done it many times. And recently, it's stopped being something he's proud of. To be precise, it was exactly four days ago when Blurr first stepped into his office. Swerve had just finished his shift and was finishing his tea when his boss suddenly appeared in the doorway, with the best racer in the world right behind him.
The tea was instantly dropped, adrenaline was released, and the brain was turned off.
In that moment, Swerve thought that this is what it must look like. The moment when all your good karma comes together in one pile to reward you for all the times you dropped a sandwich butter side down or missed a deadline.
Both of which happened with annoying regularity. Swerve is unlucky. Sometimes things seem to fall through his hands.
It started out great.
Swindle, their boss, showed up in the office space one day looking simultaneously jubilant, nervous, and very inspired. Usually on such occasions, Swerve could almost see the dollar signs reflected in his boss's glasses.
“Attention everyone. We have an important guest arriving in an hour.”
Swindle expressively pushed his glasses down on his nose and looked around the room
“I promised him a tour and I expect you all to behave yourselves.”
He meticulously looks around the floor beneath his feet
“Send someone to clean up all the trash. This place is unbelievably filthy. The floors should be sparkling in twenty minutes! And, oh! Hey you, go buy some good drinks.”
Having finished inspecting the floor Swindle hurriedly runs off, probably to say the same thing to the neighboring department.
Swerve stretches his neck out curiously, listening in
“Is the president coming to see us?”
Walking by, Jazz shrugs
“When the president was coming Swindle said the floor was dirty and made him wear boot covers.”
It's not the president
Swindle gestures generously to the entire office at once and looks overall like a bird trying his best to primp up
“And here we have the engineering department offices. In the next building is the assembly plant, that's where the mechs are put on their feet so to speak. And this is where all the computing, design, and planning happens.”
Just over his shoulder stands and looks around at none other than
Oh, dear God.
Swerve's tea flies to the floor next to his thought processes.
He's seen Blurr countless times, but never in person. How can this guy look as good in person as he does in expensive retouched-until-squeaky-clean photos? Mystery.
Blurr's gaze slides lazily over the simple office setting and for those two seconds when it's directed at Swerve it feels like sheer madness. He tries to look normal. He's not sure he's succeeding, but he's making an effort.
Swindle waltzes through the office, heading for the next door
“Come on I'll show you the mech hangar.”
Blurr grins.
“A highlight of the show I suppose~”
His voice is like a needle bursting a ball of stunned silence. People begin to rise from their seats and scramble to say hello. Someone asks for an autograph, others ask for a bunch of selfies, a couple people in the corner hastily fix their hair, one of the employees just pulls out his phone and shamelessly starts filming.
Swindle looks at the this with an unchanging commercial smile, but his gaze promises all kinds of punishment.
Perhaps if it had been the president, the buffoonery would have been smaller.
______________
For the next few days, Blurr is the big news and the center of all discussion.
Officially? He's becoming one of the pilots in the Mecha program.
In fact? Swindle's greedy soul couldn't get enough of the idea that the Mech concept could be monetized.
The dust is blown off Blurr and his boots are licked. He doesn't go to general training, he doesn't participate in ordinary or overly dangerous missions. He's allowed everything and a little more. His job is to look pretty on camera, speak his lines, smile and wink. He's a walking advertisement and Swindle's incredibly powerful tool in negotiating with investors.
Swerve once saw him called to a negotiation in the middle of the night, and even sleep-deprived and exhausted after a full day of filming, Blurr had the strength to pull that charming expression on his face and flawlessly play along with Swindle wherever he needed to.
His mech was a work of art. And that's not even an exaggeration. Usually the main purpose of mechs is to be efficient and practical. Blurr's Mech was made separately and so many people worked on its design that it could have its own end credits. It's beautiful, sleek, shiny and show-offy. It's designed to be awe-inspiring, but not so decorated that it's ridiculous.
When Swerve looks at its specs, he almost feels sick. Maneuverability, mobility, everything is absolutely top-notch. But most importantly, speed.
The technology to accelerate Mechs to incredible speeds has been around for some time, but the average robot doesn't reach even half of the technically possible maximum. Because even the fastest machine can't outrun the human brain.
After a certain threshold, pilots are no longer capable of controlling their own Mech. Human reaction speed is simply not enough to maneuver without crashing into anything or losing their orientation in space. And. Well. Without losing consciousness.
This has led to Mech manufacturers sort of tacitly agreeing on a rough speed limit and tending to stick to it. Just to make the technology safer and more suitable for everyone.
Regardless. Everyone except Blurr apparently.
Because the numbers across from his Mech's speed specs are horrifying. Swerve looks at the blueprints and thinks it's either freaking awesome or absolute suicide. Maybe something in between. Can a human being have reflexes like that? What about this turning mechanism? The numbers tell him that these levels of g-force make a large percentage of pilots just pass out.
Is Blurr really going to pilot this death wagon??
To achieve that kind of speed and mobility, they'd have to cut off half the armor or make it very light. Which would almost be like inviting a dangerous injury.
But if the Mech is made primarily to flaunt rather than fight...well... it probably makes sense.
Swerve's inner fan is sliding down the wall.
Blurr is incredible. And what's even more incredible is that he's kind of sort of almost Swerve's coworker now.
It only takes him a couple days to realize.
Everyone loves Blurr.
But the one who loves Blurr the most is Blurr himself.
The rose-tinted glasses are breaking slowly but surely. On the first day, Sverve walks up on shaky legs to get introduced. He tells himself that this is definitely not an attempt to get an autograph. They're coworkers. He's just...uh...greeting a new employee.
Blurr looks slightly bored.
“You're from this department....uh.. What's its name, whatever.”
Swerve clutches his hands in front of him so he doesn't accidentally drop anything
“OH.Uh yeah. Swerve! Engineering Department. You were there on a tour the other day. I usually work in the assembly plant, making armor for Mechs, developing new alloys. But I design too! I, uh.
(Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. He'll think you're a crazy fan. Don't talk about Blurr.)
Blurr starts to get sidetracked by his phone.
Swerve swallows awkwardly.
“I'm uh. I'm a big fan of yours. Sir.”
(Good job...)
Blurr chuckles softly and offers out his hand
“Well, nice to meet you.”
Sverve's hand is shaking like crazy, he hopes he isn't squeezing too hard. Working in the assembly has made his hands rough. Blurr's narrow, soft palm is almost sinking in his grip.
“ 'Nice to meet you, yes. Nice to meet you sir! If you, ah, if you have any problems or questions or uh, well. You know, if you need help with your Mech or upgrades or or.”
Blurr chuckles.
“I'll be counting on you~”
Swerve feels like his soul is about to break away from his body.
The next, day when they cross paths in the hallway Blurr waves to him.
“Hey you. Whatever your name is. Can you tell me how to get to Block D?
Swerve stops awkwardly.
“Ah. Of course! I'm Swerve sir. Come, I'll show you.”
Blurr smiles a beautiful, ad-libbed smile and follows him in
“Thank you darling.”
From this point on, the entire program gradually learns a simple but unpleasant truth.
Blurr is an asshole.
And nobody likes him.
He always has everyone at his beck and call. You rarely get to see him on his own. There's always someone swirling around him with a guilty or annoyed face. A sort of serve-get-show-explain designated poor guy.
Swindle treats Blurr like a precious antique vase.
Blurr treats people like his servants.
The whole world is in love with the glittering cover, the image polished to a squeak. Until recently, Swerve was doing the same thing. Now it feels more like an embarrassing crush.
Blurr still doesn't remember his name. He actually remembers at most three to four people by name, and calls everyone else “hey you” or “ darling”. After Swerve reintroduced himself to him for the fourth time he just sort of...stopped trying.
On the field, Blurr is incredible. No one can deny that. The tremendous speed of his Mech leaves all the other pilots in the dust. Whoever said human reflexes weren't fast enough? HA. When Swerve sees his reports and results, he gets dizzy.
The combination of such incredible speeds and light armor means Blurr simply can't miss. If he hesitates, if he falters. If he gets confused. The whole metal thing will smash him to smithereens.
And yet Blurr comes back untouched time after time.
Swerve's no longer inclined to think it's just because of his mad skills. He knows that Swindle is paying Blurr a lot of money for his cooperation. No one would let Blurr fight on the front lines, no. It would be too dangerous. He has to do just enough so that Swindle can record a commercial and in it call Blurr a badass pilot without adding small print to that statement.
Blurr's job is not to fight for humanity.
Blurr's job is to smile for the camera and take the applause of people who praise him for his bravery and sacrifice. Blurr's job is to sell his face, his voice and his skills to millions of viewers. He must impress investors, show off advanced technology and make a determined face saying that to save mankind he is ready for anything. And then get in a luxury car and drive off to some expensive place to burn a whole bunch of zeros out of his paycheck.
He's not someone who stays after work to help his coworkers. And he's not the one who spends his nights trying to save as many people as possible. But he is the first person every citizen would name if asked to say something about the Mech program. He signs autographs, makes big statements, and promises people he'll protect them.
And people believe him.
And they love him.
A month later, he still can't remember anyone's names and sometimes calls people by the colors of their clothes, laughing as if they should take it as a cute joke.
Swerve is sick of this spectacle. Swerve is sick of this man.
That's okay.
It's not like fanboying over Blurr is Swerve's only passion.
He gets upset.
Then he gets mad and rips down all the posters.
Then he has no time to be angry because Swindle wants to launch Mechs into outer space and damn it, Jazz flies off the planet and doesn't fucking come back. The engineering department stays up nights trying to figure out where he's gone, but they can't.
Unlike Blurr, everybody loved Jazz.
Unlike Blurr, Jazz deserved every ounce of that love.
The ground beneath his feet is starting to shake.
At first, all that happens is panic. Everyone starts making a confused noise, someone assumes an earthquake.
A voice on the speakers says that everyone needs to evacuate immediately, but no one hears it because huge mechanical tentacles start coming through the windows and the whole building starts shaking, creaking and crumbling.
Sverve has seen the monsters humanity has to fight many times. But never this close. And their size leaves him absolutely terrified. These things are huge, they take up all visible space. And what's most damning is that they can break down the walls around Swerve like a fucking cookie.
He's gonna die. Oh god he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die here under this stupid rubble or get eaten or turned into one of the ugly bloody stains on the wall. His heart is doing a million beats a minute and his eyes are starting to sting. He tries to get to the emergency exit, but the door is blocked by one of the huge toothy creatures that is actively trying to get in.
Next to him, Swindle is shouting to someone on his comm, trying to sound louder than the rumble of the collapsing building and the hungry aliens.
The floor tilts at a very disturbing angle and Swerve grabs one of the interior doorways to stay in place. A second later, he reaches out and pulls Swindle, who has already slowly begun to slip toward the monster's huge hungry maw, to the same doorway.
Swindle grabs onto the frame of the door and Swerve at the same time. His glasses are cracked and his usually neat expensive coat is all dust and debris.
“It was a trap.”
Swerve can't hear a word over the grinding of breaking structures.
“What?”
Swindle almost slips and falls, but Swerve grabs him by the scruff of his coat and puts him back on his feet. Working in an assembly shop gives a man strong arms and right now he's very grateful for it.
Swindle makes a second, louder attempt
“It was a trap!!! All available pilots are now on the other side of the country! I've called for backup, but who knows how fast they'll get here.”
A smooth, silky voice comes from a walkie-talkie strapped to his coat.
“Ouch Swindle. So little faith in my professional skills?”
Swindle rounds his eyes
“Blurr??! Where are you!”
Blurr's voice sounds...not quite as it usually does. It's missing the habitual lazy note. The one that makes him sound like the whole world owes him money.
“Give me another minute and the answer will be 'here'.”
The building shakes again. Swindle swears so eloquently that Swerve can't help but admire it.
Swerve can't stand Blurr's smug face, but when he spots the first glimpse of blue metal in the window, joy floods his brain.
He usually associates Blurr with dumb nicknames, dismissive treatment, and commercials.
Now he watches the sleek, fast Mech lunge fearlessly at the monsters surrounding the building and thinks that. Fuck this. He's an asshole, but if he buys Swerve enough time to evacuate, he'll bring him a thank you card or something later. Though it's unlikely Blurr will care about that of course.
Swindle continues to shout instructions over the walkie-talkie. Swerve basically drags him outside by. He jumps up probably a full meter when very near him one of the monsters falls to the ground.
Blurr's Mech stands proudly on top of the fresh corpse and looks...actually really bad. Swerve knows that this particular robot was not built for rough, open confrontation. Its armor is too thin. Designed for speed and agility, not strength. He assembled it himself, after all.
Many of the plates are crumpled. Some are torn off. His legs are intact, but one of the joints sparks funny.
Blurr quickly looks around and Swerve unwittingly follows his example. The whole place is on fire. Office buildings are in ruins and a huge column of black smoke rises above the assembly plant.
Blurr's Mech drops to the ground and gets down on one knee. The plates on its chest are pulled aside and Blurr sticks his head out of the cockpit while simultaneously opening the visor on his helmet.
“Everyone okay?”
Swindle clutches the walkie-talkie
“The office areas are empty, but there still could be people left on the lower floors of the assembly plant. But we have no access there!”
Blurr drums his fingers quickly on the metal plate
“Fire?”
Swindle shrugs his dusty shoulders
“Something exploded at the bottom of the building. It's a real smelter down there.
Even if we send a Mech, it won't last more than a minute before it overheats. Or make the building collapse.”
Blurr's gaze becomes focused. Sharp. Swerve has seen that look many times on tough front line fighters like Jazz. On Blurr, never.
“'That's enough time for me.”
Swindle waves his hands
“Are you crazy?”
Blurr slaps his palm against the armor of his Mech
“This baby is light. Lighter than anything you've got! If anyone can do it without dropping the building, it's me. They make Mechs in the assembly hall, it's got high ceilings right?”
Swerve wants to snap. He wants to throw his hands up angrily and yell something along the lines of “you were literally there!”
Who else is down there on those lower floors??? Tailgate? Maybe Wheeljack? If something exploded, Wheeljack was definitely there. And probably closest to the explosion.
Swindle curses furiously, but retreats and runs off to give orders to someone else.
“”Be a hero if you want, but I'm not going in there. For all I know there could be melting metal in there instead of a floor! It's just not reasonable.”
Swerve's brain stumbles over that statement. Why...Swindle is acting like he's being forced to climb into that building too...?
Blurr looks nervous.
“You know what. Fine. I got it. Hey, you--”
And there it is. The good old namelesness.
Blurr pays no attention to Swerve's frowning face, nor his hands shaking with fear
“ You're familiar with those buildings. You know who was there and where to find them right? I need you to walk me through.”
Swerve feels the urge to snap again and this time doesn't hold it back
“If you cared about something other than yourself, you'd know this damn building and the people who work in it too and !”
“I don't fucking remember!” Blurr interrupts him.
Swerve doesn't have time to put anything in after that. Though a sarcastic comment is begging to be made.
Blurr quickly takes off his helmet and wipes the sweat off his forehead.
“I don't remember okay! This isn't a fad or posing or whatever else you think of me. This is what an accident can do to you if you miss a turn! I can't remember shit, okay?! Do you need a medical report?!”
Swerve just...stands there with his mouth open and probably looks like an idiot.
Blurr nervously tucks back his disheveled hair. The longer he talks, the faster he does it.
“Now. I know you don't want to die in a pit of fire. But I need your help to save them. Don't do anything, just take the map. I promise I won't let you die.”
He sounds determined. And holds out his hand to Swerve, silently inviting him to climb up onto the Mech.
His face is stained in sticky dust, his hair is an absolute mess, and his narrow palm is covered in streaks of soot. It's as if he's been dragged face down a muddy road.
He's. Very Handsome, Swerve thinks.
He takes his hand.
Blurr helps him up, pushes him into the space next to the pilot's seat, and closes the cockpit.
“Been inside a working Mech ever?”
Swerve clenches his hands nervously on the back of the seat
“No.”
The lights of the consoles around him come to life as Blurr puts on his helmet. The space around him hums. It's a strange noise. At once unsettling and calm.
Mech feels alive, he thinks. Then corrects himself. Blurr is mind-linked to this Mech. This Mech can technically be considered alive in a sense.
Blurr moves one of the monitors toward him and opens the map.
“Just mark the path here. Don't touch anything else. And hold on tight. I won't be going too fast anyway, but it'll be shaky.”
Swerve swallows nervously.
“Understood.”
After that, everything turns into motion. Watching the Mech work while being inside is mesmerizing.
Blurr doesn't say much, concentrating on the controls. His hands aren't shaking anymore, Swerve notices. Not even a little.
He steers the machine forward confidently and smoothly, dodging falling debris and avoiding the biggest pockets of fire without panic or hesitation.
He's also strictly following the path Swerve is laying out for him.
The air filtration system is doing well so far. Swerve can feel the smell of burning and the heat slowly creeping up, but it's bearable for now. For now.
They find a man on the nearside of the emergency exit.
Two more people a floor below. A small group stuck in the elevator.
Wheeljack's on the doorstep of his lab.
Blurr pulls them all out. Picks up the first group of people and carries them outside, goes back into the fiery furnace, finds more survivors, pulls them out, goes back, searches, rescues, goes back, searches, rescues.
The heat is coming up. Swerve can feel it. The plates around him are getting hot. The air smells like burnt wires.
Blurr’s Mech wasn't designed for this kind of thing.
His Mech was made to flash for the camera and accelerate to impossible speeds. To deceive and confuse the enemy. Its armor is thin and cools easily in the air, which usually helps it avoid overheating.
This also means that this Mech heats up very quickly as well.
Now, with the air around him feeling like a red-hot frying pan, Swerve regrets not saying anything back then. He regrets that he didn't make any changes to the blueprint.
More and more warnings pop up on the screens. The map stopped working correctly some time ago and Swerve is forced to give directions verbally.
He nervously grips the back of the pilot seat with one hand and, without noticing, Blurr's shoulder with the other.
Blurr carries two more people outside and hands them to the rescuers. Then turns back to the building again and. OH FUCK. Right in front of him, a huge crack begins to creep along the structure. This thing is on the verge of collapse. The roof is already starting to fold down in a very bad way.
Swerve clenches his grip fearfully and hears Blurr hiss through his teeth.
Suddenly, the cockpit opens. The fresh air of the street feels like a cold sledgehammer blow after the heat and stuffiness of the lower levels.
Swerve is about to ask something, but doesn't have time because Blurr uses Mech's hand to gently but quickly pull him outside and set him on the ground.
“You were going to mark another spot.”
Swerve nods hurriedly.
“Tailgate is still there.”
Blurr wrinkles his face.
Swerve corrects himself and clarifies
“Bright blue uniform. Short. Considering all the places we've been, I think he's in the staff quarters. It's...”
He chews his fingers, trying to remember numbers and directions without a map
“...two floors down, left, another floor down and straight ahead.”
As he speaks Blurr bends over the side of the open cockpit and spits...blood on the ground. His nose is bleeding, Swerve realizes. That's not good. It's a clear sign of a malfunctioning neural connection. Or damage to his respiratory system? Possibly both.
Blurr doesn't seem to notice his worried look
“Two down, left down then. Shit. Wait. Two down, left then down, straight ahead yeah?”
Swerve nods.
Blurr keeps repeating these directions like a mantra. A very fast and creepy mantra.
His gaze roams strangely and his breaths sound hoarse. His teeth and chin are covered in blood and his face is streaked with soot.
Swerve understands. He's about to do another go.
Two down, left, down, straight. Two down, left, down, straight. Two down, left, down, straight.
Alone. He's going, and he's going to fry himself alive in there for a stranger he doesn't even remember.
Swerve doesn't have time to say anything. What's he gonna say? Stop? But he wants to save Tailgate? Go on, I believe in you? But it's certain death.
Swerve rarely has nothing to say, but this time he can't find the right words.
Blurr wipes the blood with his sleeve, wrinkles his nose, and storms off, heading back into the flaming mess the plant has become.
Not twenty seconds later, the roof collapses, spewing a huge cloud of smoke, ash, and fire into the sky.
Swerve wrinkles his shirt nervously in his hands.
The walls are still in place, right? If the roof is gone but the walls are still standing it's... it's. It's.
Damn it. He's trying to remember the blueprints. It means the ejector will work. It means Blurr can still get out through the top. That--
Blurr's not getting out. As the small, bright blue escape pod appears above the falling walls of the building, Swerve feels his brain stop. Remember the blueprints, remember the damn blueprints. The Mech is light, the design is compact, the space in the pod is for only one person.
In the capsule lies an unconscious Tailgate.
Swindle grasps the radio
“Blurr? BLURR!”
Swerve looks at the smoke and ash and feels numb. He doesn't want to be here anymore. He has to know. He doesn't...
He feels weird. The same kind of weird as when objects fly seemingly through him. Everything just stops being real.
The thought comes out of nowhere. You don't have to obey the rules. You can see more. Just look.
He's not sure how or why he's doing it.
No one around him is paying much attention to him. Everyone's busy with survivors and damage assessment or just stunned by the chaos.
And him? He disappears.
And then he appears at the bottom. Under the rubble.
All around him is ugly, molten and red-hot chaos, but he doesn't care anymore. He feels like whatever is happening is about to end and he just has to be in time. Time for him to find out.
Blurr's Mech lies crushed by the fallen roof. Its cockpit is open. A gaping hole where his chest was, the place where the escape pod had undocked.
Wall debris has pinned him in a crooked, grotesque pose.
Blurr is here. His legs are wedged between crumpled metal plates inside the cockpit, leaving him hanging upside down. His suit is charred. Half of his face is destroyed. It looks like a horrible bloody and burned mess. It's ugly and gruesome.
Blurr opens his only working eye and gives Swerve a cloudy look.
“I must be seeing things...”
Swerve shrugs in daze. He knows he shouldn't be here.
Blurr spits up a mouthful of blood
“I'm sorry I hurt you uh...”
“Swerve.”
“Yes. Swerve. It's hard for me to remember things unless they're...akgh...hell... not in my face all the time.”
Swerve moves closer and frowns
“You know, that explains but doesn't excuse you.”
Blurr closes his eye and coughs. That sounds really bad.
“No...I guess not.”
He huffs off the blood again. The burned half of his face is oozing with it. The blood runs down his forehead, collecting in a small puddle on the floor.
“It was better than letting everyone know what's wrong with me. I can't even begin to think about the amount of messes I'd be dragged into.”
Swerve notes that the fire seems to be getting closer.
This whole bit of dialog is so unnatural. Who even talks about that kind of stuff before they die. On the other hand. Well. Character development?
“So you think it's better to have everyone assume you're a jerk than that you got your head screwed on?”
Blurr wrinkles his nose.
“ You're a very specific kind of ghost.”
Swerve shoves his hands in his pockets and looks away
“I needed to know. Before you die.”
“That's ...akghhh...ha....it's good to know. Can you tell me something Swerve? As..agh...
As a last wish?”
Swerve shrugs again. He stares at the dripping blood. At the ugly, bubbling burns. At the burst vessels in his eye and the paths of blood from his bleeding nose. He looks at the broken and scorched and dying bloody mess.
He looks at Blurr.
And he thinks, until today, he didn't really love Blurr. Not with the posters and figurines. Not with the disdain and dislike.
He loved an image. And hated an image.
He reaches out and tries to touch Blurr's hand, but goes through it.
“I'm sorry. But we're both not really here. And I have to go.”
He can feel the cold metal around him, which is strange because he's standing in the middle of smoking and burning ruins
“But if it makes you happy, I guess you're my favorite character after all.”
Blurr doesn't answer. Swerve isn't sure he even heard him.
The feeling of metal around him grows sharper.
Someone shines a flashlight in his face.
Swerve blinks stupidly and tries to move away.
The unknown Autobot medic standing over him smiles happily and puts the flashlight away
“Welcome back. You've been in a coma Primus knows how long.”
The other medic to the side frowns
“You have zero tact.”
Swerve blinks his optics puzzled, raises his servo and for a while just stares at it like some movie character. All around him is an Autobot medbay. Metal walls. Metal instruments. And him. Metal.
Yes. Seems so. That's the way he's always been. That's right.
“Doc, you won't believe what kind of weird dream I had.”
___________
Swerve feels like he's going crazy.
He's standing in the middle of a hallway on one of the Autobot ships, and he's staring. shamelessly.
There's Prowl standing at the end of the hallway. And on his shoulder is...
“ JAZZ????”
Both bot and human turn around abruptly at his scream. And both look equally puzzled.
Jazz waves his hand
“Do I know you?”
Swerve is definitely going crazy. It's Jazz. The same one. From his...dream??? But he's real and tangible??? Sitting on Prowl's shoulder, talking and breathing and being seen by everyone not only Swerve????
“You're...real...?”
Jazz raises his eyebrows
“I am. Yes. Really Mech, you sound very familiar.
But I can tell you for a fact that I have not been friends with any Cybertronians before...”
This can't be, this can't be, this isn't....
It was a dream. The spawn of his TV series-addled mind. A hallucination. It wasn't real. It wasn't, was it?
But Jazz is here. And he disappeared from Earth. And now he's here.
And.
What the..
Swerve blurts out something like “sorry-sorry-see-you-later-now-I've got to go” and runs off.
“HEY DOC????”
The autobot, already familiar to him, flinches
“Primus...Swerve? Is something wrong?”
Swerve realizes that everything is about to either make sense or lose it completely.
“Tell me...is it possible to project a holoform...like...very far away?”
The Doctor tilts his head.
“Depends on power consumption. If you channel all the energy available in a frame, you can go very far. But that would send you into a...coma...if you...tried...Swerve, is there anything you'd like to tell me?”
“Doc do you know where Earth is?”
“Wha...no?”
Swerve chuckles nervously and bites his knuckles.
“I don't either. But I think I've been there...”
#tf mecha universe#Blurr#Swindle#Swerve#Jazz#Tailgate#Wheeljack#maccadam#Prowl#Jazzprowl happens for like two seconds
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HOW THE MOON SIGNS ACT WHEN THEY LOVE YOU pt. 1
disclaimer: forgive me if the series doesn’t cover all twelve signs, but i don’t think i’ve known enough people to speak about everyone’s way of loving. please be patient🤗
aries moon/1H
ooooh those little devils🔥😈 you can see the mischievous twinkle in their eyes. they’re children of Ares - the god of war! when they speak of their loved ones it feels as though they’re ready to kill for them any minute, only waiting for the right (or any😂) reason.
(just my observation, please don’t come at me) i believe that these natives are prone to being more loyal, less selfish and flaky than aries venus. aries is known to be 'the baby' of the zodiac, valuing independence and self-fulfilment greatly. however, i’ve noticed aries moons to be devoted af!! you will never catch them bad mouthing a friend or a partner.
also, from my experience, both placements like to fight, however aries venus often does it for own enjoyment, the initial chase turns them on. as for aries moons, they’re more steady. they would go to great lengths for friends and partners. you can call them in the middle of the night and ask the craziest favor, they WILL come and help.
(please keep in mind that i mean unevolved aries venuses that still have a lesson or two to learn!)
PS. they love to be treated like the center of your world, please give them attention💕
taurus moon/2H
hmmmm how do i put it… 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍! i will say that i am biased bc my boyfriend is one and the way he’s attentive, always asks about the details of my day, pays attention to my routines and shows love through acts of service🥹 you’ve probably heard the rumours and they’re true. taurus moons make the best cooks ever. and i don’t mean putting together a couple of cheap pancakes, nuh uh. their sharp senses only let them buy the best quality ingredients and cook with great care. bonus points if they prepare a dish that they know is your favourite!
i will say though, they are not the most verbal lovers. but when they’re in, they mean it. when they say they love you, it becomes a fact so obvious that they don’t feel the need to repeat it over and over. they like to settle into a routine, so don’t expect them to be flaky, send mixed signals and stir things up just to feel something/for fun (sag moons cough cough😅😅).
they also seem brutal sometimes. but i believe it’s because they see honesty as the highest form of trust. they want to feel comfortable with you. they value silence, too. they’re the type to show you their appreciation not by telling you how perfect you are but by actually putting in the work to show you your value and show that they’re worthy of being by your side.
lastly, their homes are their sanctuaries, a reflection of their feelings. usually beautiful and they look for someone worthy of letting in, to match their belongings. they get a rep for being possessive and stubborn, nevertheless with the right person they can make a sacrifice and at least try to change their ways😂😂
virgo moon/6H
okay so i know they’re said to be critical, demanding, neurotic etc but hear me out. virgo is a mutable sign, ruled by mercury and in true mutable fashion they DO get wild, fun and unhinged lol. as a virgo moon myself i am well aware of the fact that i often act like i’ve got a stick up my ass. but when i get closer to you i want it all: karaoke nights, fast car rides, spontaneous trips! sometimes i even take those things to the extreme!
they’re also said to have the highest standards. and while i imagine it’s partly true, i believe that this placement is all about accepting the biggest, weirdest quirks of your s/o (as well as 6th house synastry!).
besides, i think that we get more so insecure and self-critical in relationships, analyzing the f outta our partners, wondering whether we’re meeting their demands! we’re about the overall quality of the partnership and just want it to be perfect🥺 we’re also quite anxious and require lots of reassurance.
lastly, everyone knows it: virgo moons are like the final boss of small acts of service lol. vacuuming your flat, folding your clothes. they notice the smallest things that could improve your life and happily do them for you!
capricorn moon/10H
this one is tricky. they remind me a bit of taurus but more rough in a sense that they probably won’t pamper you with luxurious baths and gourmet food but they will do things like pay your rent, get you a job or buy a car😂. i’ve noticed them to be a bit grumpy sometimes, definitely not the softest lovers.
they’re up to giving some tough love. pushing you into a scary path that they know will be rewarding in the end. teaching you that even in the hardest lessons of saturn there is light. they’re not the most cheerful on a daily basis but - surprisingly- they are the ones that keep calm in the face of crises. they’re like okay we can’t do anything about it now let’s appreciate what we do have and focus on what we can change.
it’s because they know all to well how karma is. they had to learn it the hard way which made them so strong and resilient.
what i’ve personally noticed: they will stick by your side no. matter. what. this isn’t always a good thing as sometimes it’s best to walk away but if you’re expecting a cap moon to give up on you, don’t.
i also feel like they’re used to being the oldest sibling, the mom friend etc. please take care of them from time to time!
that is all i have for you! thank you for reading💕 i wish all of you lots and lots of love💋 see ya
~Michelle
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The way season 1 ended she was at a point so low she was ready to blow up a city (and like she did, she blew up the council). The start of season 2 showing her cathartic wasn't actually bad I liked that direction. It felt like they wanted to show her in a "nothing state" which depression also feels like.
they showed her as not caring about anything anymore (literally just walking through every scene in the music video sucker while everything just HAPPENS around her). The meeting with Isha, while still being a little bit odd since it felt like well they randomly put them together but that's something you can overlook, was amazing. She still just didn't care, played with her life.
Her reaction to seeing her sister being an enforcer? Gut punching. Extremely painful. The fight with her STILL being more in a nothing like state, just shooting the dude with her back turned to him felt very s1 which is good because again, Jinx in the end was like??? done.
and then.... act 2 happened. Suddenly they used Jinx's mental state as a Plot device. In season 1 it would ruin missions and her freaking out would happen no matter if "the plot needed it or not" if you get what I mean? The first mission we see on screen? fucked up because Jinx lost control. This happens throughout the first season, it doesn't just come when ever the writers need it to happen.
In season 2 it does. Suddenly in situations that should freak her out she doesn't. Suddenly they use it as a plot device. Why was she very calm and relaxed upon meeting Vander as warwick with Vi? Why did she not freak out when Vi and her fought in the mines?
Do we all remember what happened in season 1 episode 3? And how Jinx immediately lashed out as soon as a fight occured? What happened? Also why was she suddenly so very chill with Enforcers in act 2 and beyond? The joke with the Enforcer and her god damn fucking pants was so out of place I cannot even handle to think about it anymore. The fight with Warwick was good and I liked that in the end they again showed that she is ready to kill herself, at least there is continuity here but that is also never addressed and also... happens for Plot and plot only
it happens so warwick can see the bomb and so they can have him recognize her, like okay arcane writers? And then after that she is simply fine with her second father figure showing up again? You are telling me the girl who had such a mental break down last season over her sister returning would be absolutely fine and 🥺family🥺 upon seeing Vander? Where was the sense? Where was her having to deal with Silco and Vander in her mind? i don't WANT to see her tortured, duh, but they set that up and showed this happening to her in season 1, so this is just, I dont know, a plothole? You are telling me the same girl who blew up the council in s1, and like LOOK AT HER in that scene, is all cuddle cuddle with her past family whose death she always blamed herself for and was scared off?
Then Isha dying, and god do I have my problems with that but that's another thing, and THEN having Jinx never mention her again? Are you KIDDING ME? like it's not even just not mentioning her as much as it is just also Isha not appearing in her nightmares etc. That is NOT how they set Jinx up as a character. While the scene with Jinx in the prison with Silco turning up was chillingly heartbreaking it also didn't make sense if you take into account how they wrote her seeing things this season. In the one scene where she talked to Silco's chair she says he doesn't show up and then when she is in pain over Isha being caught suddenly he stands behind her? I mean maybe I missed something here but I literally sat there like huh.
In season 1 it happened not because it was needed but because it wasn't. As it should be. In this season it only happened when the Plot needed to move and that's just so incredibly weird to me. Especially cause I already saw people misinterpreting the Silco and Jinx prison scene. It was her subconscious telling her to kill herself not Silco trying to be "a positive influence".
And then or course, we have this tragic character Jinx. Who was shown to have a wish of death all throughout season 1 with how careless she was with her life (for example when she threw around the bombs in her hide out) and then throughout season 2 as well. Who saw a breath of life for a bit, taken from her.
To have a character like this ACTUALLY die by killing herself and then to paint it as a GOOD thing? This isn't a tragedy. This is straight up suicide glorification. I did not cry when I watched this scene, I did not feel sadness and grief. I was beyond mad and disgusted and might be for a long time to come.
I need more ppl to talk abt how awfully Jinx was treated this season. I am soooo angry and upset
#arcane#arcane season 2#mental health#is there something I forgot?#arcane spoilers#tw sui talk#character analysis#jinx#isha#sevika#silco#media critical#arcane season 1#vi
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Hi i loved your Hazbin Men as Dads Writing! Maybe you could write the same for the Hazbin Woman x reader as parents if the Idea intrests you ;-) ?
OMG OFC!!! I was thinking of doing a sequel lol but I wasn’t sure if I should. Now I definitely will though! <3
HAZBIN WOMEN AS MOTHERS
Featuring >>> Charlie, Carmilla, Rosie, Sera, Velvette, & Vaggie x Reader as mothers!
Rosie:
Let’s be honest, your child is going to be a cannibal. Assuming the three of you live in cannibal town together as a family, (which is very likely), this may happen sooner…like before your baby turns a year old…BUT ANYWAYS-!
Your child will grow up surrounded by Rosie’s loyal subjects. Nobody in cannibal town would dare lay a hand on your precious child, but for the few outsiders who try…let’s just say they pasta way. Their ashes may or may not end up in Rosie’s spice cabinet, and then on your dinner plate…but rosie is such a good cook!
Rosie would be such a good mom. Sure, she is a very busy woman, but she would always make time for her little (demonic) spawn! Overall, 10/10 parenting.
Carmilla:
Carmilla is already a mother, she has lots of experience. Having two or three daughters, (I can’t remember how many she has in the show lol), she has seen it all. She knows all the tricks. She is strict…but loving!!!
She is shown being protective and willing to anything to save her daughters, so it would be the same for your child, if not more. She would not let the poor kid out of her sight for the first few months. She knows hell is a dangerous place, and will teach your child how to defend themselves from a young age.
Like I mentioned with Valentino in my other post, Carmilla would likely have your child learning Spanish young. It is very important your child is well educated both in language (and fighting). But then again, she’s already portrayed to be a good mother in the show, so what did you expect?
Velvette:
Oh lord. With her there is no way your child isn’t a mistake. Velvette would be ‘way too busy’ to deal with a child. She is one of the Vees and the top designer in pride! What did you expect!? She doesn’t have time for some random child!
Velvette is literally an adult screenager, so like Valentino I don’t think she would be very responsible with your baby. Velvette would leave your child unsupervised, or under the supervision of one of her models who wasn’t busy at the moment, while she does fittings and preps her models for the next big fashion show.
While in public she puts up a front of being too busy, in private I think she would genuinely feel guilty. Overtime I think she would grow to care for the child, teaching them all about fashion and social media. She is totally the type of mom to show your child off on social media or just create an account from scratch. Its safe to say your child is already a star.
Charlie:
BEST MOM EVER??? I mean first of all, she is the princess of hell, and with her personality, that basically means your child is going to be spoiled rotten! Your child has all the (mostly duck themed toys, brought to you by Lucifer) they could ever dream of. This child is royalty, and will be treated as such.
She would NEVER yell at your child, god forbid the poor kid cries…she might start crying too! Charlie is also always up for playing with your child. Whether it’s arts and crafts, dress up, dollies, etc. she will drop whatever she’s doing—or finish it up quickly—and play.
Grandpa Luci is also around very frequently. He has just reconciled with his daughter after all, and his daughter has a daughter??? If Charlie wasn’t spoiling your child enough, Lucifer is doing ten times more. Every time he visits he brings your child a trinket, like one of his ducks, a duck themed onesie, or just a sugary treat.
Vaggie:
Literally a carbon copy of Carmilla but like ten times more protective. I mean how could she not be? Her precious child is living under the same roof as the radio demon! (Let’s just say that if Alastor steps within even ten feet of your baby he is getting threatened with a spear to the neck.
I feel like she would be a boy mom. Not in the tiktok boy mom sense, but I just generally feel like she would get along better with a son than a daughter. No matter which one you have though, she will love them unconditionally.
Supportive of her children’s dreams in the same way she supports Charlie’s. She is always very supportive, but can sometimes be a little doubtful. However, to balance that out, she always brings good advice to the table. I can also see her keeping secrets, like the fact she was an exterminator from her child until they get older.
Sera:
She’s like Carmilla but more angelic. Sera is very strict and by the book, and would expect her child(ren) to be the same. She can be hard on others, especially her children, but in reality she just wants the best for them.
If the two of you had a child, I feel they would be a mix of Emily and Lucifer. Kind, energetic, and a dreamer. This worries Sera a lot. She lived with Lucifer in heaven, she saw his dreams. Sera watched him fall for the dreams he tried to make a reality. Therefore, she would try to stop your child from turning into a dreamer.
Overtime, I think she would realize that your child’s dreams are nothing like Lucifer’s, and would become more supportive. Overall, Sera is very overprotective, strict, and hard on others, but she is truly looking out for their well-being.
#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor x you#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin x you#hazbin hotel imagine#vox x reader#hazbin x reader#husk x reader#overlord husk#angel dust x husk#husker#husk hazbin hotel#hazbin husk#angel dust x you#angel dust x oc#angel dust x reader#angel dust x alastor#angel dust x vox#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor rp#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanart#alastor the radio demon#alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#human vox
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okayy. so this is my request idea 😍
can i req for him pls, he still mourning his wife however you (acacius' daughter) willing to give him your love, sadly he did not want it or keep you away from him. until you realized that he still in love with his wife so you gave distance. at the end, he wanted you and saved you after your father's death
Thank you for requesting <33
(Note: reader is not Lucilla’s daughter, just Acacius’ from a previous marriage)
——————
It had been a while since you’d last seen him.
You remembered your last encounter painfully well, when he'd turned his face away, unable to bear seeing the earnestness in your eyes. You had poured your heart out to him, but he hadn't been able to accept it. He'd drawn that line firmly in the sand, having to accept the consequences that came with it.
He hadn’t meant to hurt you, not really, but his heart was still splintered in a thousand bleeding shards. He was constantly reminded of the one he had loved for years before his return to Rome; The one he had bitterly lost at your father's command back in Numidia.
He never said her name at first — Arishat — until the day you confronted him after the naval battle at the colosseum. He had vowed his revenge against your father for her death, and he could not see past his hatred and mourning to see you. One of the only people who had offered him your genuine friendship, who'd heard countless stories about him from his mother, weaving an image of the strong, good-hearted man that you would one day fall in love with.
That day, the image had been shattered and your heart didn't fare any better. And so, for both of your sakes, you decided to keep your distance.
But then, after your father was arrested and forced to fight Lucius in the arena as a gladiator, things took a drastic turn. At the last moment, when your father had surrendered to him, Lucius decided to spare him, even going so far as to defend his honor.
Still, the Praetorian guard riddled him with arrows, and loss like you had never known had you crying to the skies, cursing the will of the Gods.
After the funeral, you were secluded at home for a nine-day mourning period in which no one else could reach you. Even after that, you refused to see anyone for another two weeks, letting both your heart and the scratches on your face from lamentations heal a little more.
When you felt just strong enough, you decided to throw a small dinner party to honor his life. And once the sun had set, it was none other than Lucius who showed up last, his expression somber. His body language was hesitant, like he wasn't entirely sure he would be welcome.
But when you made eye contact with him from across the room, he felt a little more encouraged to approach you. He offered his condolences and silently stood next to you as you stared at the flickering flames dancing in one of the braziers.
"Your father was a good man," he said. "I've come to realize that a little too late."
"He did what he had to do for the glory of Rome," you said, accepting his words but not denying that he had committed acts of brutality in his time as a commander.
"I have made many mistakes when it comes to you, as well. Please, forgive me."
You looked up at him and realized that despite how hard you had tried not to, you still ached for him. Swallowing thickly, you looked away before any tears could form in your eyes.
"It's all in the past now, Lucius," you murmured. "I bear you no ill will, especially after you showed mercy to my father."
There was a long silence in which the two of you were lost in thought. The two of you had your own burdens to bear, but perhaps they wouldn't be so heavy if the weight was shared. He had realized he did not want to be separated from you, even if it would take some time for the two of you to fully open up again.
He was a patient man and was more than willing to work for it -- to see it through. In time, perhaps two broken hearts would meld each other, stronger than before.
"I should like to be the one to take care of you now," he said, looking at your profile. "If you'll let me."
You stiffened, feeling something akin to hope surge within you. A lump formed in your throat and you let a tear run down your cheek. Unable to find the right words to respond to him, though, you settled for taking his hand.
And it was then he knew that things would be alright.
-------------
#lucius verus x reader#lucius verus x you#gladiator fanfiction#lucius verus fanfiction#lucius verus#x reader#minors dni
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How does maid reader get their things to König's manor? Do they leave with Duke MacTavish's knowledge or just vanish entirely and tell no one where they are going? Or do they simply only take only what they can carry and leave everything else behind?
-💎 Anon
Hello hello! Very excited to put out this one. Happy Turkey Day to those who celebrate, may your dinner table's be free of conflict!
At least at this point our lovely reader is more flight than fight, though we might see that change in the future.
She makes her way through the halls, back to her room with light steps, careful to avoid the creaking floorboards. She's managed to avoid being alone with Johnny (Duke MacTavish, she reminds herself, he is not Johnny, not for someone of your place) for the past few days, only a handful of hours between her and escape. She is torn, forced between two choices that make her breath catch in her lungs and her nails dig into her palms, knuckles white from force. Even now she struggles to leave this place, her job, her house but never her home, never her husband. Her mind knows this is for the best, to slip away in the wee hours of the morning, mist coating the grounds while the rest of the inhabitants sleep away, unaware that they will be one maid short come time to start on the linens. The only one aware of her vacancy is the head maid, who had fixed her with a look she couldn't return before uttering a soft murmur of understanding, reaching out to fix an errant strand of hair on her forehead in a way that reminded her of her mother. Perhaps it's the coward's way out, sneaking from her employer's grasp with him none the wiser.
She doesn't want to walk away from this, still carries a spark of yearning in her belly. The silly girl inside of her head begs for him to take notice, to realize what and who is in front of him, to see her for who she is to him (but he has, hasn't he? It's only her who failed to understand the true picture, so caught up in the tiny details that she never grasped the true meaning). Something akin to the romance novels some of the other women giggle about in their downtime, a grand gesture showing her it's not all for naught, that he loves her, truly.
Because he has to love her, doesn't he? At least a little? She couldn't have been the only one falling this entire time right? How else could he hold her in his arms, press heated kisses to the column of her throat, whisper of how she was his favorite? Perhaps if she goes to him, if she tells him how she feels, how she may be carrying his child, their child, he'll look at her the way she needs him to- Light spills from a doorway along with laughter, shadows flickering on the opposite wall. Johnny's Duke MacTavish's study is awake, and from the sounds of things she knows exactly who is here. Her stomach clenches for the uncountable time that day as she debates turning back the way she came. Unbidden, she steps closer still, and catches the tail end of the conversation. "So, how was she Simon?" Duke Price from the sounds of it. "Terrible. Kept squealing in my ear. Wasn't sure if I was bedding a maid or a pig." The clinking of ice inside of a glass followed by a loud sip. "Barely managed to find my finish. Honestly Johnny, don't know how you can find pleasure taking your maids for a turn." Oh. She covers her mouth, hiding her breathing as it becomes shaky, tears coming to sting and pool at her lashline. They know. "It's all about which ones you pick Simon! Take my best girl for instance-" No no God please no. "She's my favorite you know. Had to teach her everything, all shy and sweet, not expecting nothing of me. Best one to have in my arms, quick learner. The others are fun too, but the way she giggles and craves me," he sighs, "Makes me feel all warm, always gazing up at me like I'm her knight in shining armor!"
The clink of a fork against porcelain hits the air followed the sound of loud chewing, a fruity aroma hitting her nostrils over the faint odor of cigar smoke and making her fight the urge to retch. Apple tart. He's eating apple tart. Telling the other men about how he likes to fuck her while he eats one of those god-damned apple tarts.
The first time he had ever given her that smile, the one she once thought meant he loved her, was when they had met in the kitchen, late at night. She had come down for a glass of water, and he to sneak the remains of the apple tart from the icebox. He had offered her a bite, a cheeky wink making her cheeks warm as he offered it to be their little secret, 'just a little snack between friends, hen'. From there it became more, became Johnny, became rustled skirts and bitten lips, became floating within reach of Heaven every time their eyes locked or their hands brushed...
Became heartbreak and hopelessness, became a place of convenience, became another casualty of love and the harsh gravity of reality. Like an apple plucked from the tree, peeling back the thin veil separating her flesh from the air so he can taste the juices. He showed her what it meant to be a woman, to understand a man in the way mother's tease about for when their daughters grow older. He showed her what she thought was love, how a husband and wife would love one another.
Her heart never ceases to ache these days, a pain that echoes through her chest, like he has cored her out entirely, sunk his teeth into the innermost parts of her and found the flavor wanting. Was she not sweet enough? Too tart? Too soft? Not ripe enough for a man as impatient as him, jaws always aching for the next bite? Why, she wants to scream. Wants to storm into the study and rage at him, watch the way his face flushes and pales in turn as she strips him bare before these men whose approval he so desperately seeks. Why did you carve me open just to find another to sate your hunger. Why was I not enough for you. Why are you everything and I am nothing.
She has to leave, before he leaves her rotten and hollowed out, a sickly sweet death as she withers while he goes on to glut himself. A seed tossed haphazardly into the dirt only to take root, a weed sprouting free from the carefully tended rows in the field. If her suspicions are right and their folly bears fruit, she needs to run before the entire orchard is condemned. She refuses to cling to anyone else and send them crashing down in the fallout with her, even if it would suit Duke MacTavish right. She slips back down the hall like a shadow, barely visible for the blink of an eye as she darts down another corridor to her room. Shutting the door silently, she wipes at her cheeks and eyes, already raw from how much she's scrubbed at them. At the foot of her bed rests all she owns. Her meager belongings already packed away, a simple trunk's worth of things to carry to her new home tomorrow. She was foolish to think for even a moment there was another option in play here. She would always be a maid, and he a Duke, and there was no stepping outside of those bounds. With that knowledge, she curls into herself under the covers, hoping for sleep to take her swiftly so she may finally close this chapter.
In the morning at the MacTavish duchy, there is one less maid, and one less choice.
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Hello! I saw your little post about a prompt and was hoping you could write a fic with Mina, Delia, Billie, and reader? Maybe Billie has a bad day and forgets to pick reader up from work so reader has to walk home in the rain. While she is walking home someone starts following her and she gets scared and calls Mina crying. Cordelia and Mina are worried sick when they get to reader. When Billie eventually gets home later she feels awful that she forgot to pick up reader. Mina gets into a fight with Billie about it and Billie breakdowns about the awful day she had and that she is sorry. Just some good old love, fluff, hurt/comfort? Here are some prompts too, if that sparks any inspo! Thank you SO much!
Prompts:
“Honey, I can’t understand you. Take a deep breath and tell me what’s going on.” “Stay right where you are, okay? Don’t hang up the phone. Keep talking to me. We are coming to get you.”
“My god you’re freezing.” ~ “I’m- f-fine. I’m n-not c-cold. P-promise.” ~ “You are certainly not fine and you know I do not tolerate lying. Sit. Down.”
“Oh for gods sake. You have to be kidding me.”
“Can you please stop yelling? You’re scaring her!”
“If it makes you feel any better, you’re very pretty when you cry” ~ “(sobbing) It…it does…thank you”
Sorry that is quite long and no pressure to write of course! Thank you and sending all the most love and hugs!🧡🧡🧡
Cordelia Goode x Billie Dean Howard x Wilhemina Venable x Reader- Home
A/N: thank you so much for this request!🫶🏼 I‘m struggling a bit with my other wip‘s so this was perfect to spark my inspiration again!
tw/tags: established poly relationship, female reader, mention of smoking, mention of cursing, angst, hurt/comfort
word count: 2k
taglist:
@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahelvar , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples, @stepintomyworld
By the time you finally make it out of work, you are greeted with darkness and pouring rain. The wind causes you to shiver and you instinctively pull your coat a little closer as you try and look out for Billie‘s car. Usually the medium would always be on time, waiting for you with that same smirk, some music blasting through her speakers and mostly a cigarette in her mouth. However, as you wait for a little longer you realize she isn‘t anywhere to be seen and so you pull out your phone, checking for any messages but only finding some from your other two girlfriends about dinner plans. You opt to call Billie and clutch the phone to your ear as the rain makes it impossible to hear.
„Sorry babydoll, I‘ll call you back later, I‘m stuck in a meeting“ she mumbles into the phone before hanging up. You sigh a little, realizing she must have forgotten and so you opt to walk, pulling up the hood from your jacket and beginning to walk towards home. It wasn‘t too far and so you begin walking, excited to see Mina and Delia, trying not to get upset about Billie forgetting about you. You knew she was busy, medium to the stars with her own show and getting picked up for multiple new seasons but you couldn’t deny that it stings a little, remembering how she would usually never forget about you, spoil you rotten and put you first, just like you would with her.
At the halfway mark, you are drenched from the rain that keeps pouring on you, your clothes dripping and shivering from the cold. The only lightsource are the cars occasionally driving past you as well as the occasional streetlight and you can‘t help the uncomfortable feeling in your gut. As you turn around you notice a hooded figure behind you and you begin to pick up your pace, walking a different route to usual to shake them off. But the faster and further you walk, the hooded figure seems to come closer and you can‘t help but feel the trembling of your hands and anxiety in your chest. Panting, you reach your phone and begin to call Wilhemina.
„Hi little one- where are you both? we“ she begins but stops herself as soon as she hears the shaking of your breathing.
„Mi-‚Mina, Billie forgot.. pick me up.. walking home.. someone following“ you mumble, too scared to find your voice propery. The redheads‘s features drop upon hearing your disttress, dropping the utensils she was holding to make dinner, Cordelia beside her picking up her girlfriends distress.
“Honey, I can’t understand you. Take a deep breath and tell me what’s going on“ she instructs and you stop walking for a moment as you adjust your breathing.
„Sorry Mina, I‘m walking home and I think someone is following me“ you manage to say and she instantly drops what she is doing, grabbing Delia and their coats.
“Stay right where you are, okay? Don’t hang up the phone. Keep talking to me. We are coming to get you“ she urges and you nod before realizing she can‘t hear you. The redhead stays on the phone, asking for your exact whereabouts. It takes them less than a minute to get to you as you had been much closer to home than you originally thought in your panicking state.
Warm hands reach for you as you almost stumble into Wilhemina. They instantly notice the hooded figure and as soon as Cordelia steps forward, they disappear into the darkness of the night. „You‘re okay little one“ Wilhemina encourages as they take your hands and walk you back home. Somehow the rain disappeared as soon as you saw them both and you wonder whether the supreme may have had something to do with that. They instantly take you inside, ushering you to the kitchen and Delia getting you out of your soaked coat.
„My god you’re freezing“ Wihemina whispers, noticing the disapproval in her eyes. „I’m- f-fine. I’m n-not c-cold. P-promise“ but your shivering state exposes the lie. „You are certainly not fine and you know I do not tolerate lying. Sit. Down“ the redhead instructs and you do as you are told before Cordelia softly runs her hands over your cheeks. „Can you tell me what happened exactly sweetheart?“ she whispers and you look at her through teary eyes before explaining.
„I finished work and I guess Billie was busy so I started walking home“ you explain and they both furrow their eyebrows, never knowing the medium to forget something so important as this. „Why didn‘t you call us darling?“ the supreme tuts and you mumble a quiet „I didn‘t want to bother you two“ before Wilhemina raises an eyebrow. „Sorry“ you whisper and give them a dopey smile, causing for the concern to leave them for a moment as they chuckle to themselves.
„I‘m gonna go and change“ you announce as you notice Billie‘s car parking outside and they nod quietly, Wilhemina‘s anger already flaring up as they watch you go. The medium walks inside, abandoning her bag and stepping out of her heels before a long sigh escapes her, shaking her curls a little to get rid of the remainders of rain, knowing she would have to do an extensive hair care routine tonight in order to have it looking not frizzy tomorrow morning. When she steps into the kitchen with her usual smile moments later, Cordelia stands there with a concerned expression while Wilhemina waits for her with her arms crossed.
„Ugh I had an awful day“ she sighs as she sits on one of the chairs and lights a cigarette. „Oh really?“ Wilhemina sarcastically questions and Cordelia rolls her eyes, already knowing exactly where this is heading. „What?“ Billie hisses but before the medium has a chance to ask any further, the redhead lets out her anger, her protectiveness over you showing. „Have you not forgotten anything maybe?“ she sighs but Billie simply shrugs, too caught up in her own world. „Oh for gods sake you gotta be kidding me Howard“ the redhead hisses before her eyes meet Cordelia‘s who simply stands and observes. „Honey you forgot Y/N“ she says softly, noticing Billie‘s distress and the clear signs she must have had an awful day in order to forget something this important.
The medium‘s eyes snap towards her, the clear signs of shock in her expression as it finally hits her. Guilt immediately consumes her, realizing that was the reason you had called her before. „Oh god“ she murmurs, putting out her cigarette quickly as Wilhemina‘s anger errupts again. „Yes and not only did she have to walk back through the pouring rain, she was also followed by some creep“ Wilhemina curses, causing the medium‘s eyes to widen. „What?!“ Billie asks before Cordelia kneels in front of her. „It‘s okay, we found her and she‘s safe and getting changed upstairs“ the supreme encourages, noticing the guilty tears threatening to spill down the blonde‘s cheek.
Neither of them realized you had been standing by the doorframe for a little while, having changed into some warm clothes and dried yourself up. You froze as soon as you heard the shouting, your anxiety errupting in an instance, caught in between wanting to comfort Billie and telling her it‘s really not a big deal and Mina‘s overprotectiveness. Not even Cordelia realized you are there, her supreme senses currently busy as she tries to navigate between her girlfriend‘s guilt and her other girlfriends anger, all while worried about your state upstairs. By the time she finally realizes you are there, she immediately walks over to you, noticing your shivering state but the other two don‘t realize, more shouting errupting in the silent kitchen.
„I can‘t believe you forgot“ the redhead continues, causing Billie to roll her eyes. „Honestly, why do you always breathe down my neck? I have had a really shitty day and I“ Billie tries to defend herself but before the arguing can continue, Cordelia‘s steady voice and presence echoes through the room. „Can you please stop yelling? you are scaring her“ she demands and they instantly stop, both of their features guilty as they see your frame hiding behind Cordelia. „Oh babydoll“ Billie whispers, as she instantly abandonds her seat and walks over to you. „I‘m so sorry“ she apologizes as her manicured hands cup both of your cheeks before pulling you into her arms. „Are you okay? god you‘re cold.. I‘m so sorry“ she apologizes and you simply hold onto her a little closer, feeling her warmth and your hands almost automatically travelling to her curls and playing with them.
„It‘s really okay Billie, I‘m not mad or sad“ you promise and she looks into your eyes and sees the honesty in them. „It‘s my fault for not calling anyone“ you admit, meeting Wilhemina‘s eyes and hoping she was gonna let this go, Cordelia equally pleading with the redhead. You stay in Billie‘s embrace for a while longer before the supreme offers some dinner to calm down and warm up and you all agree. Before you sit down, you walk to Wilhemina, taking her hand before giving her a gentle smile. „Thank you Mina“ you whisper and she knows exactly what you are thanking her for, always fighting your corner, always having your back no matter what. And for the first time tonight, a gentle smile meets your eyes and she squeezes your hand before guiding you to sit between her and Billie.
Dinner is spent in the comfortable atmosphere of each other, the four of you trying to look past what has happened. But no matter how much you all try, Billie remains silent, on the verge of tears before the dam finally breaks and her tears fall freely down her beautiful cheeks. „Billie, whats wrong?“ you ask as you are the first one to notice, your hand instantly finding hers and squeezing it a little. „I‘m just sorry, I had an awfully busy day and lots of last minute meetings about the new season and I just“ she cries and the three of you stop eating, Cordelia gently wiping the mediums tears and even Wilhemina feeling guilty, knowing she didn‘t exactly help the situation. Her eyes find the medium‘s with an apologetic smile and the medium can‘t help but look at you and apologize again. „It‘s really fine Billie“ you reassure.
„If it makes you feel any better, you are very pretty when you cry“ Wilhemina suddenly says, causing yours and Cordelia‘s eyes to meet at the redheads soft gesture and statement. „It does, thank you“ Billie sobs, a half small smile and frown on her face despite it all. And through Wilhemina‘s gentle words, knowing just how to cheer the medium up at times, the evening comes to a peaceful end, Cordelia helping Billie with her hair routine as she softly combes through her hair and dries it and Wilhemina and you already nestled in bed and waiting for your other two girlfriends to return.
„Thank you Mina“ you mumble as you snuggle closer into her chest. „But you know I‘m a big girl and can take care of myself“ you whisper barely audible and all you can hear is a low chuckle escaping her before she whispers. „No matter what or when, you will always be my little one“ she whispers as she instinctively pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. Moments later your girlfriends return and you snuggle up in each other‘s embraces, the events from earlier long forgotten as you are home.
#asks#anon#sarah paulson#cordelia goode#wilhemina venable#ahs#american horror story#billie dean howard#sarah paulson x reader#cordelia goode x reader#billie dean howard x reader#wilhemina venable x reader#ahs coven#ahs apocalypse#ahs murder house#lgbtq
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when demigods get sick
Percy : internal clock gets messed up sleeps all day and is up at 1 am once he feels a little better and then probably wants to fight the gods
Annabeth : freaks out , dose not want to get anyone else sick and will lock her self away and make building designs , with Percy contesntly trying to visit her and once she falls asleep he gets in to where she is at and gives her a blanket
leo : "sick , wdym sick nope no I can't I have stuff to build no no no no no I cant be " - will be in denial and then once he gets better will act as if nothing hapend
hazel : is the only normal one and just takes stuff slow and least dramatic
frank : turns into animals that he thinks cant be sick so he is a snake and it seems like the snake is half dead but that is only for when he is really sick he is normal most of the time if it is just a fever or something simple
jason : is never sick as he has a good immune sytem from being rased as a wolf
nico : will babys him if will finds out Nico is sick , or Nico is sick but never shows it untill it is really bad
will : TAKES MEDS LIKE A NORMAL PERSON , can not afford to be sick and is the only one to rember that meds exsist
piper : trys to charmspeak herself into not being sick
reyna : takes a day off but still is crazy busy but her being sick dose not change alot and she needs to get shit done
#I made this at 1 am after I got sick and I feel slightly better but I just had a mental breakdown as I look at annabeths name and it just#seems off for no point#percy jackson#annabeth chase#hazel levesque#frank zhang#leo valdez#reyna avila ramirez arellano#nico di angelo#will solace#piper mclean#I think that is all of them lol#idk if it is tho#my mind needs to reset button#my point still stands#I did not relise i said to reset button I meant needs a reset
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A Northwest
Stan x Reader
words: 2,361
tags: sfw, fluff, reader is a Northwest
a/n: this way to the request for this story
You just arrived in Gravity Falls, a town your family has lived in for generations. However, you had promised yourself to never return. After a big fight with your little brother about a woman’s place in the family and him insisting that he should be the sole heir of the family estate and such, you had had enough. Told him that if he wants it, he could have it all.
Your parents hadn’t cared either. Well. your mother had but… your brother had to have learned his attitude towards women from someone. You and your father had never seen eye to eye on anything, especially when it came to such progressive topics like ‘Should women be allowed to vote’. God, you hated him. Even went to his funeral with a big smile on your face and the most colorful clothes you could find, pissing him off one last time.
But all of that was in the past now. All you cared about as you walked those familiar streets again was your niece - Pacifica. Preston had, unsurprisingly, run his wealth into the ground, leaving himself, his wife and daughter homeless. You on the other hand had made a great career for yourself and earned enough money to live a very comfortable life.
So, as soon as you heard about the whole incident from Priscilla (she calls you about once a month, only when her husband isn’t around to hear it), you decided to help. Not him. But his wife and mostly Pacifica. You had great hopes that maybe the next generation of your family wouldn’t turn out like the rest of them had and well, if you want something done, better do it yourself.
You had arrived a little earlier than expected and decided to stop by Lazy Susan’s Diner. Greasy’s Diner. When you entered and sat down at the counter it seemed like she didn’t recognize you. You didn’t blame her, you looked nothing like you did 34 years ago. After you had left you had decided to reinvent yourself completely, new clothing style, new hair color, although by now it was starting to grey a little.
You probably wouldn’t have recognized yourself either.
As you sipped on your coffee, contemplating whether or not to remind Susan of you, you felt a tap on your shoulder. When you turned to look it was a man in an old looking suit, wearing a fez and the cockiest smile you’d seen this year. You leaned back against the counter, amused.
“You’re new in town, aren’t ya?” You hummed, deciding to play along. “Yes, I suppose so.” He leaned against the counter as well, his eyes never leaving yours. “I knew it. Well, let me tell ya, a pretty woman like yourself should not be wandering about these woods on her own. There are a lot of dangerous creatures lurking just off the main road. But don’t you worry, I will gladly give you a tour of the town, showing you all the places to avoid. And also the places to stop by more often.”
He wiggled his eyebrows at you at the last sentence. You couldn’t help but laugh at his silly flirting. Behind him in a booth two children groaned in an exaggerated way. He looked back at them with a frown. “Hey! Let a man have a conversation.”
Ah, he must be their uncle? Or something? You just smiled at him. Cocky, flirty, broad shoulders and responsible enough to take care of kids. If you had known that a guy like this lived here you would have come back years ago.
“I would gladly take your offer, Mister…?” You trailed off, inviting him to introduce himself, which he did. “Pines. Stan Pines, at your service.” He grinned at you and you nodded as you gave him your first name as well and continued. “Mister Pines. Unfortunately, I have some urgent business I need to take care of first. Perhaps we can postpone this tour?”
The man looked a little deflated at first, but quickly brightened up again at your question. “How about tomorrow evening. We meet here again for dinner. And after that we’ll take a stroll through town?” “Sounds lovely.” Stan clapped his hands together and winked at you before he went back to the booth with the kids.
By that point you had finished your coffee and headed out to look for Pacifica and her parents. You didn’t see it but as you left Stan looked after you, very obviously staring at your ass and grinning. He’d love to get his hands on that.
When you found them you got the basics settled first. Get them some place to stay the night. Then you got them a new set of clothes, their current ones being torn and dirty. That’s how you spent the entire rest of the day, pulling your brother and his family out of the hole he had dug them into.
You made it a point to hold it over his head though, that you managed to get rich on your own while he couldn’t even keep the money he inherited. He was mad at you the entire time but he couldn’t refute your words, you were correct after all. All throughout this you noticed the way Pacifica looked up at you with bright eyes.
To Pacifica you very quickly became her role model. Confident and strong-willed and most importantly, not taking any shit from her dad. She clung to you, asking you countless questions and admiring you for every choice you had made, especially standing your ground and moving away from the family.
She had heard rumors about her dad’s sister, but until today she had never actually met you. Obviously, her dad didn’t want her to get any ideas from you. You, the black sheep of the family.
Seeing Preston crawl back to you now, after all those years, was incredibly satisfying to you. If you’d also get to help turn his own daughter away from his precious ‘family values’ then you’d proudly call you her aunt.
While you were out helping your family, the Pines had also gone back to the Shack, now relaxing in front of the TV. Mabel was texting on her phone with Candy and Grenda. Suddenly, she gasped after having read the newest text from Candy. “There’s more of them?!”
Dipper and Stan looked at her in confusion. “Who?” Dipper asked, but Mabel ignored him, just stared at her phone as another text appeared. “She was at Greasy’s Diner? Today? We were there today! How did we not see her!?” Dipper was starting to get frustrated with Mabel ignoring him, so he placed his hand over her screen, making her look up at him.
“Who are you talking about?” “Pacifica’s aunt! Candy says that she heard her mom talk to her friend on the phone who told her that another Northwest came to Gravity Falls today. Apparently, she wants to help them now that they’re homeless.” Stan bellowed a laugh.
“Serves that slimy Northwest right! Blood runs thicker than water after all. Even he needs to learn that.” Ford, who was also enjoying movie night with his brother and the kids, looked at Stan. He had forgotten how much of a family man Stan really was.
Dipper frowned. “Okay, sure. But if she can help them out then that means she is also rich. Who’s to say she is any better than Pacifica’s parents?” Stan scoffed. “She probably isn’t. But who cares. Hopefully, they’ll just leave Gravity Falls together now and we won’t have to bother with them anymore.”
Dipper turned back to look at the TV. “Yeah, hopefully…” He mumbled, although he didn’t quite mean it. He hated to admit it, but he had started to like Pacifica a little.
The topic was dropped after that and movie night continued.
The next day came and went rather quickly for you. There was a lot for you to do, to get your brother on the right track again. So much so that in that haze you almost forgot about your date with Stan. But you remembered and soon excused yourself, leaving them in the motel room you had rented them.
You went back to Greasy’s and met up with Stan, who immediately greeted you with a kiss on the cheek and his hand on the small of your back as he led you inside. He truly was a man of action and you appreciated that about him. There was a certain honesty in his behaviour which came as a refreshing change to the cold mask your brother and his wife had learned to live with.
“So, what was this business of yours that was more important than the best date you’ll ever have?” The way he was presenting himself in his seat, one arm over the backrest and the other resting on the table, while he looked at you through half-lidded eyes and a smirk on his lips. You loved this. It was silly in a way, but it was so different from the way you were raised that it left you feeling giddy.
“Oh, just some old family squabble. Nothing important.” A lie, of course, at least to some degree, but you knew that your family was hated in this town. And for good reason. So you didn’t want to taint his view of you before he got to know you properly.
“Hm, yeah, I get that. My brother and I had a rough time these last few decades as well.” His smirk had faded and you missed it already. Even so, you asked: “I’m so sorry. Where is your brother now? Did you manage to work it out with him?” Stan chuckled lightly at you and his smirk returned. “Well, considering that I live in his house… Yes, I’d say so.”
You chuckled as well. Now this was something you and your brother would never be able to achieve.
The two of you had a very nice dinner together and talked about everything and nothing. It was a fantastic date. When you left the Diner you turned to look at Stan again. He was already grinning at you and held his arm out for you to take. “Now, onto the tour?” You laughed and gladly looped your arm through his. You had already forgotten about this part of the date.
You strolled through the woods. Stan told you all kinds of fantastical stories about monsters and little supernatural critters that are said to live in these woods. You didn’t believe a word of it, of course, but it was fun to play along.
After about twenty minutes you had reached a wooden house in the middle of the forest. It looked like it was supposed to attract tourists, with a big sign on the top that read ‘Mystery Shack’.
“And this,” Stan made a grand gesture, as if revealing the house to you, “is my humble home. Well, my brother’s, but you get it.” You chuckled lightly and pulled his arm closer to yours again. “Yeah, I’m starting to.”
Stan led you inside, telling you about his family. You were starting to get really excited to meet them. Stan had talked so highly of them, you were sure to like them.
Something you didn’t know was that throughout your entire date, Pacifica had followed you. She was curious who you’d agree to go on a date with, especially so soon after arriving in the town. She was shocked, to say the least, when she saw you and Stan Pines entering the Diner. She was even more shocked when he led you to his home.
After you had entered, she stayed outside for a while, pacing back and forth and considering whether or not to confront you about it. Eventually, she decided to do just that.
Inside the Shack Stan had already introduced you to the kids, Mabel and Dipper, and also his twin brother Ford. It was very sweet, especially when you quickly realized that the kids were very similar to their great uncles. Or grunkles, as they put it. They were such a charming family and you envied them for it a little.
After a little bit of sitting together with them you heard a knock at the door. “Any of you expecting someone?” Stan asked around the room and everyone shook their heads. Dipper stood up and went to open the door. In front of him stood Pacifica.
“What do you want, Pacifica?” At the name your ears perked up. What was she doing here? You told her to stay with her parents. Then again, you wouldn’t have stayed with them either.
“Your great uncle went on a date with my aunt. I want to know why.” Everyone turned to face you, even Dipper craned his neck around the doorway to look at you with his mouth hanging open. Mabel was the first to speak up. She stood on her chair and pointed at you. “You are a Northwest?! …How? You are so… different!”
You chuckled sheepishly. “Yeah, well, they don’t call me the black sheep of the family for nothing.” At that Stan’s expression immediately softened again. Being the odd one out in your family was something he could relate to.
By now Dipper and Pacifica had walked into the room as well. Pacifica had her arms crossed in front of her and looked at you like she was trying to figure you out. “I get that. But why… him?” She gestured towards Stan who frowned at her. You just shrugged your shoulders.
“He’s exactly my type. Plus! He seems to have the same kind of… affinity for making a quick buck like I do.” You smirked at Stan and he returned with a smirk of his own. In a way, you two were quite similar.
Pacifica groaned in frustration and turned to Dipper. “No way. I get a cool new aunt who immediately dates your stinky grunkle? This is unfair.” “Well, I’m about to be your stinky uncle as well!” Stan laughed loudly and soon enough everyone at the table joined in, even Pacifica.
#gravity falls#gravity falls x reader#zigreth writes#stanley pines#stanley pines x reader#stan pines x reader
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do you have any tidbits about the Red Bee? I heard he died decades ago but I also saw some people claiming that he showed up a few years back helping that Peacemaker guy
Depending on someone's level of familiarity his entire life is a fun tidbit but I will do my best.
(Art piece of The Red Bee that adorns one wall of the Superior City Historic Society) Richard "Rick" Raleigh would have appeared to anyone who knew him as the most stand up kind of guy that existed at that time. The assistant DA in the booming pacific port town of Superior City. His only major quirk was a fascination with bees but hey, everyone has to have a hobby right? No one knows for sure what caused his turn to crime fighting, as I've stated before it really was just something in the air during those days. If people like The Sandman and The Atom could do it, and make the jackals preying on vulnerable communities shiver, then anyone would with the right willpower.
His abilities were modest. A motorcycle, a "stinger gun" (which in reality was just a souped up BB pistol but sting it did indeed do) and his secret weapon. A trained bee named Michael. Those of you who do not know this story just balked at that. How does one train a bee? Don't bees live like, two months at best? I need you to look at me when I tell you a couple of things and then the best guess we have. I am NOT fucking with you. 1. That bee is still alive, and has recently reunited with Raleigh's time displaced sidekick. 84 years after Raleigh's debut. Michael sat, and waited until Ladybug returned to the honey farm where he was housed and upon her return instantly flew up to her acting with direct recognition of the young woman after 8 decades.
2. Michael is able to sting multiple times without any ill effects on his person. (Bee-son. You know what I mean) Our best guess? The bee has a metagene.
A random mutation in this seemingly random worker bee has given it, what is from its perspective superhuman abilities of intellect, longevity and invulnerability. It is a theory because under no circumstances are we ever going to get to find out unless for some god forsaken reason the two heirs to Raleigh's estate pass it off to science when and if it does finally die.
Perhaps the discovery OF Michael's abilities were of partial inspiration for Raleigh's career. Truly we may never know.
Raleigh himself died in a battle with Nazi war criminal Baron Blitzkrieg in 1944, distracting the Baron long enough for his teammates in the Freedom Fighters to free themselves and turn the tide of battle. His memorial rests in Raleigh Park, Superior City for those curious. Note that it is a somber place of respect, those who have gone in an attempt to trivialize or joke on Raleigh's legacy have found themselves suspiciously targeted by the park's many large bee hives. The local superstition is that Michael has made it clear to all his fellows in the thousands of following generations who made their undisturbed home possible. (The park was built and is now maintained by the Raleigh estate, currently in the name of Raleigh's grand niece Jenna Raleigh and the descendants of the Rivera family who owned the honey farm where Michael was born) To this day, in Superior City, is considered very bad luck to harm a bee. And the city's annual Pollination Parade is held on Raleigh's birthday in July.
#dc#dcu#dc comics#dc universe#superhero#comics#tw unreality#unreality#unreality blog#ask game#ask blog#asks open#please interact#worldbuilding#red bee#richard raleigh#jenna raleigh#ladybug#rosibel rivera
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i've been thinking a lot about god & god as concept & god as the answer we as people need and one we made up to make the night go by quicker. and i've been reading books that talk about god and notgod and nogod and then living where i am right now where god is a threat and why that god lived when other gods died and i feel like i've come to a conclusion that i've come to many many times before because i just didn't want it to be true for me.
i don't think i believe in god as concept or as answer. i don't believe in there being something else beyond something more. i think the divineness of god makes god too distant. i live here, i live right now, i live in a world everything exists right next to me. god being far away does not ease any worry, doesn't make the night go by faster, doesn't make anything feel ... the way god is 'supposed' to make me feel.
and i've been wrestling for years to make god real to me. just believe a little hard, pray a little more, have more faith and more faith and more faith and i had so very little to start with that i'm out. i've got nothing left to put into the god machine.
but i'm not without my beliefs. god is just the one i can do without because i believe in me and i believe in spirit and i believe the earth is a mother and a grave. i believe that our ancestors are here with us, echoing the movement of our hands to the nth generation beyond. i believe in the magic of lighting a candle and i believe in the power of prayer ( faithless as it it might be. ). i believe that pomegranates are holy fruit and the act of love is a holy act. i believe the special rocks we pick up from walks are holy and the bird feather we see could be a sign or an answer. i believe in all of those things.
i just don't think i believe in god as concept, god as answer, god as the truth and i don't think i have for over a decade.
and i started this blog as a way to explore faith, to see if my god is actually a being from a long time ago that still has a name or if it's not. if craft was a way of worship or if i should just hang up the hat and move on. i would learn names but then my faith could not match what was expected, what i expected. you were supposed to be the answer, i say, to a god who was and is the answer for so many other people but sits very silent and very quiet for me. and i started this blog when i still believed in god with a capital G. or, i tried so very hard to convince myself i did. if i'm actually honest with myself, i haven't believed in god, capitals or not, since i was in my teens.
but then there comes the really fun part of wanting so bad, wanting so much that it borders on needing, to believe. i sang the songs, i chanted the chants, i prayed prayers, i sat quietly with myself and begged for a god, to the point i was asking for any god, to listen. and hearing no response really began to carve a hole that was shaped like god. like i could trace the shape and if i could just find the shape that fit, i would be complete. but no shape fit. even if i put two in there, they don't fit. three or four, nothing. one big shape just falls out because the hole was made by the absence of ... not the presence of.
and that knowing that i will probably never fill that hole, there will never be a god or a being or anything else that'll fit, is very lonely. and honestly, that loneliness is why i started looking in the first place. because talking to people is incredibly difficult, being with others is hard, being around people makes me feel empty because i see how full they are. i am so scared of the reality that i might die alone as the possibility of meeting someone romantically or making lifelong friends just becomes smaller and smaller every day and it's a terrible fear. it'll send you looking for answers in those blank edges of the map, the blank pages at the end of the book.
but after searching and begging and wishing and hoping and praying, my reality is that the only one in that room when i cry for god is me. it's just me. me sitting on the edge of the bed, crying until my chest hurts because i want so badly to know what that love beyond mortality everyone talks about but can't feel it. me writing letters to god with no answer, me burying sigils, me carving symbols, me trying to make an ancient statue mean more than stone when that's all i can see. it's just me. it was only ever me there.
and i tried. i tried very hard. one day, i might try again. but i've never let the idea of no god sit long enough for me to get to know what it's like to not want and wish and beg.
i also want to mention that i separate god from spirit. spirits, i believe, are much more real than god. spirit is life, everything and everyone has a spirit. i think that spirits echo. this is why i believe my experiences with ghosts & the dead / animal spirits / ancestors are all very real experiences because they are echoes. all spirits come from life but i don't believe god did. i would more-so believe a rock is holy because it was prayed to for centuries upon centuries and that you would go to this rock or this tree or this land to find guidance from the spirit (or spirits) that are there than i would believe that a figure sits above us all and holds the key to life if only we would believe in them.
god as great concept has been prayed to for centuries but there is no echo of god. this is why churches feel holy because the spirit of everyone who ever sought peace lives within the walls. this is why places within the woods feel holy because the trees live and their spirit will echo when the woods are long gone. this is why i ache when my parents tell me as we drive through their old necks of the woods that have all turned into residential or industrial land 'all of this used to be woods'.
and i sit by my river and feel how old he is and there's something living in it. i don't feel god there. it's just the river. and i am more like a river than i am like a statue or a painting. parts of the earth are more alive than others, feel different than others, hold more weight than others. you see a rock and remember that rocks can take thousands or millions of years to form in a process that doesn't need you. you see a stand of trees and feel that something very old and very ancient walked there ( and for all you know, you could be remembering. that splice of dna could remember being that old and that ancient and walking through those trees when they were saplings. )
god, however, needs you in order to exist. there is no god without me. but without me, there is an earth. there's trees, rivers, plants, and animals that all exist without me. there's even people that exist without me. generations of people that i will never know and they will never know and neither one of us need the other to live. there might be something terribly lonely in that but i don't find it as lonely as sitting on the edge of the bed, begging god to help and having no reply.
i could get the same result from the river and have a much better conversation. rivers and i both have mouths but god, in any form, does not.
and maybe this is why the river has a spirit, a form of life. and why the trees are described as having clapping hands, as dancing, as being alive. and why earth is described as a mother. and why we ache at the idea of hands drawn on walls thousands of years ago. maybe this is why i remember my grandmother when i make coffee and feel connected to that life she had because when in doubt, put on a pot. and my mother tells me that out of all her grandkids, she worried for me because i was a lot like her. i feel her spirit, her echo even though i'm thousands of miles away from her, and i tell it not to worry about me because i'll be okay.
( and a quick note is that which i could very well be projecting! i could absolutely just be telling myself something to make myself feel better! there is no hard or fast rules in faith or belief or they would be facts. no one can prove or disprove god. no one prove or disprove spirits. like my concept of spirits and life beyond is very fragile at best! but i have to believe in something just there, out of the corner of my eye. i have to believe in faerie tales, i have to believe in fantasy stories, i have to believe in the magic wand that creates the carriage out of the pumpkin because without it, i would be so empty. i would lose so much of my wonder and curiosity for the world because i would see no point. what point would i have to get up if i can't interact with the spirit of the earth, with the spirit of love, with the spirit of being alive, with the spirit of magic? i wouldn't have one. others can see right down to the flat world of explanation with no magic and live perfectly happy lives but i can't. )
those are things i can believe in. and god ... has nothing to do with those things, i think.
but i don't think i would do away with god as concept, as answer, as anything out right. there's a lot to be gained by knowing humankind put their minds together and said this what love looks like or this is what war could be or i am in need in help and my help comes from a man who looks like my father, like all our fathers, or the father i need right now. i wish to win the heart of fair maiden, and if god is good she will love me in return is something that has been say in so many years for thousands of years. there's that spirit of power in words like that, in prayers passed down, in singing your grandmother's favorite hymn or writing your 8's the way your father did or a thousand different wonderful, human things.
god as human concept is a lovely thing. i have a love that is beyond my body that only a divine being could have made it possible. god, however, as divine being beyond the scope of humanity just ... isn't something i can put faith in it. i can trust the river will flow, the tree will grow, the sky will turn from night to dark but i can't trust that god did that or wanted that or willed that to be. i don't see a divine hand guiding in that kind of wholly(holy) natural chaos.
some might! and that's what i love! i love that someone can look at a tree growing in the strangest of ways and rejoice that god can bless even if the trees. i don't see that but that doesn't mean their mind or thoughts or belief is any less than mine. and it shows me how the world is so incredibly faceted just between two people looking at a tree.
i just think i've pushed and begged and pleaded and prayed for god to be there for so long that i'm ignoring the actual answer that there's just no one in that position. that the position is and never has been filled by anyone because the divine creator, above all and beyond, just doesn't fit into how the world exists to me. it's just not there. i've been trying so hard to build a very human thing for a concept that by being divine is not human. the god-shaped hole can be filled, if imperfectly but filled all the time, by the wild concept of nature and the humanity therein.
so, that's where i'm at on god.
#a very long post#but it's something i've been meaning to put together into words for a while#and nowhere have i come to a conclusion#except that god and i have finally decided to go forward w the divorce#and i know this change will be hard but ultimately it is what we had to do#this is what happens when u go out into the hurricane to fight god#turns out god never showed up to the fight :I#bc i was talkin to myself the whole time ....#wild .... anyway
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Cat Tumblr Dashboard Simulator
🖋️ meowful-musings Follow
🕊️ birdwatching Follow
what's wrong with dry food??? my humans feed me it all the time and i think it's fine
💀 elusivehider-deactivated948204
op wheres the natural feeding option
🌲 outdoorsy Follow
you guys are getting fed?
#im a barn cat so maybe im missing something here #meowtthew don't look
7,192 notes
☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow
ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE
ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE
YOU ARE NOT LESS VALID IF YOU ARE NOT A SPECIFIC PEDIGREE!!!!!
☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow
extra special shout out to cats who have "common" coat colors. grey tabbies and black cats i am rubbing against your head affectionately <3
🪤 m0usetrap01 Follow
as a grey tabby i really needed to hear this :"3
#i feel like i never see positivity posts for moggies even tho we're the most common type of cat....
154,688 notes
🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow
i cant believe there are cats ACTUALLY advocating for kittens to be separated from their mothers before 12 weeks??? kittens still need to learn how to interact with other cats before being placed into their furever home omg you guys know you're advocating for undersocialized and aggressive cats right
❤️ loving-paws284 Follow
um op some of us??? matured early??????? i was separated from my mother at 7 weeks and i turned out fine... interesting how you assume that kittens being separated from their mothers at a younger age will lead to the degeneracy of the next generation...hmm i wonder where i've heard that before...
🐈 fluffy-the-cat Follow
OP got bit too hard during a play-fight as a kitten and it shows XD
🐟 tunafeesh Follow
also op have you ever considered that just because somecat is kind of scared and unable to deal with strange cats or humans, it doesn't mean they don't deserve to be adopted?? you sound like a vet psyop honestly
🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow
oh meow god saying that kittens should be fully weaned before leaving their mother is NOT veterinarian rhetoric and i never said that they deserve to be euthanized!!! my mother literally died when i was 3 weeks old and it seriously messed up my development so stop putting words in my mouth, thanks
anyway friendly reminder that underweaned kittens are prone to illness and often struggle with basic cat behaviors like litterbox usage, and in some nyavinces it's even considered kitten abuse
#discourse #cant believe "kitten abuse is bad" is controversial now
32,456 notes
🍃 naturalliving Follow
BORN TO DIE
WORLD IS A FUCK
猫神 Kill Em All 1989
I am trash cat
410,757,864,530 DEAD BIRDS
#outdoorliving #outdoorcats please interact #outdoorcat friendly
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🎣 salmonpurina Follow
can't believe cats are uncritically reblogging that born to die world is a fuck post. i know it's funny but op is literally an outdoor cat truther
#like cmon now you just have to go to their blog #lulu speaks
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💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712
gentle reminder that pushing cups off the table is not cute and can cause a lot of distress in your human!!!! gentle reminder that our teeth and claws can easily hurt them more than they can hurt us!!!!
🐰 evil-tabbystripes Follow
evil reminder that the cup should always be pushed off the table. evil reminder that you should always bite and claw at your human no matter what. you can do whatever you want forever
💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712
make your own pawst
💀 laser-point-deactivated8574721
umm i know a tomcat who did that and his human ended up putting him down so...
👬🏻 nyasunaruenjoyer Follow
Nyaverage shelter cat behavior
#not nyaruto #re-nyab #pickles shut up
545,460 notes
🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow
saw two male cats sleeping together on the porch today. homeow behavior imo
💡 discourse-meows Follow
hey um what the fuck??? it's really not okay of you to go assuming other cat's sexualities, especially cats you don't even know???? as a queer cat i'm VERYY uncomfortable. real-ass cats didn't consent to your nyaoi fetish, thanks
🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow
1. i was making. a joak
2. i'm literally gay???
#literally what's your pawblem
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🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
reblog if you've ever caught the laser pointer
🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
i know you fuckers are lying
🍭 gaykittens Follow
this tom hasn't caught the laser pointer
🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
shut the heull up
988,653 notes
🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow
grey toebeans >>>>>>>>> pink toebeans and don't let the haters make you believe otherwise
🐁 ladymouser Follow
op shut the fuck up ALL toebeans are beautiful!!! just bc you're miserable and insecure doesn't mean you can bring others down based on things they can't control
🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow
oh so the cat-human separationist wants to preach to us
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Babysitter - Part 1
Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~1.7k
cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), language, cheating, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), breeding kink, daddy kink
Summary: You're hired to babysit little Megumi for the summer, but you end up taking care of his father, Toji, as well.
Author’s Notes: This is repost from my old blog! I initially got this as a request and it became my first Toji fic ever, and certainly not my last lol. I'm posting this again because I actually wrote a Part 2, check it out! Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.
You stand in front of a quaint house, checking your watch for the time. It’s been almost ten minutes now since you knocked, no answer. You gave the number from the listing a call, still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you take a seat on the steps leading to the door, waiting.
It’s the summer before you head back to university for your senior year. In an attempt to make some extra cash, you took a job as a babysitter through local ads in the paper. The first two clients were completely normal; this one is already leaving a bad taste in your mouth.
Fifteen minutes have passed. You try once more, pounding on the door with your fist as loud as you can. Heel turned, ready to leave, it suddenly swings open, revealing a muscular man with black hair, glaring at you. “What the fuck do you want?”
You step back, startled by his intimidating presence. Stuttering, you answer, “I’m the babysitter.”
He continues to stare at you, eyes following your body up and down, studying it. “Babysitter?”
Before you can explain any further, you hear a car rolling into the driveway. A woman in professional attire steps out quickly. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She rushes towards you, holding her hand out to shake yours. “We spoke on the phone. I got stuck in traffic, I’m so sorry.”
You smile at her. “It’s okay.”
She faces the man, expression switching from cheery to dreary in an instant. “Toji, where is Megumi?”
He scratches his head. “Huh?”
“Megumi. Our child.”
He sighs. “Right. Uh, I’ll go get him.”
While he’s gone, the woman pulls you aside, speaking in a hushed voice. “That’s Toji, my husband and Megumi’s father. Unfortunately, he’s a complete deadbeat. That’s why I want to hire you. I started my new job and I need someone to take care of Megumi while I’m gone during the day.”
She swallows hard, blinking to fight off oncoming tears. “I have no one. I’ve been shunned by my family, my husband doesn’t give a shit about ours, and I’m all alone trying to give Megumi a good life. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’m desperate. This is just until I can save enough money to hire a full-time nanny.”
She grips onto your wrist with both her hands, begging for help. Truthfully, it’s a lot to unravel, more drama than you anticipated. But the anguish in her eyes tugs at your heartstrings. Plus, knowing it’s temporary doesn’t make it seem so difficult. How bad can it be? “Okay. I’ll do it.”
Relief washes over her. “Oh thank god. Thank you. Thank you. Let’s go inside and I can give you a tour.” She leads you through the entrance, removing her shoes as you follow her. “Oh, and one more thing.”
“Sure.”
“Toji is home most of the day, but he’s always couped up in his room, doing god knows what. Just leave a meal or two outside his door twice a day. That should be enough.”
“Huh?!”
She glances at you with a nervous smile on her face. “Yeah. I told you, he’s good for nothing.”
You don’t respond while you maneuver through the house, barely paying attention while she shows you around. It almost sounds like you’ll be babysitting two children…
~~~
The first two weeks of your new job go by smoothly. Megumi is an adorable baby; he’s almost two-years-old with hair as black as his father’s. While he never really smiles, he doesn’t cry either, expression usually stern, unless he needs a diaper change. He’s self-sufficient, always immersed by his own toys until it’s time to eat. Overall, he’s easy.
Toji, on the other hand, is another story.
You follow his wife’s instructions, leaving two meals outside his door, breakfast and lunch. And this asshole has the audacity to critique it! The bread wasn’t toasted enough. The eggs were too runny. There wasn’t enough seasoning on the meat. All this criticism while each plate is licked clean, not a crumb to spot. He’s never even uttered a simple thank you.
But what he lacks in social skills or personality, he makes up for in his physique. In between meals, he works out in the living room lifting weights, doing push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups at the frame of the door. It lasts for over an hour, and by the end of it, he’s shirtless, dripping with sweat. You’ve done everything in your power to avoid staring but it doesn’t prevent your mind from conjuring all types of lewd thoughts about him. You’re ashamed to admit that he is physically attractive, only because everything else about him is utter trash. Still, it doesn’t hurt to look, right?
On the third week, there’s a shift in energy between you two. When he isn’t working out or going out to meet with his sketchy friends, he’s usually couped up in his bedroom, ignoring you and Megumi. This morning, he actually joins you in the kitchen. You stare blankly at him, stunned by his sudden appearance. Megumi is unfazed by his father as he tries to pull your wrist towards him to get a spoonful of mushed up peas.
When he catches you, Toji glares. “What?”
“Um, nothing. Just surprised to see you here.” You clear your throat, focusing back on the baby.
He rolls his eyes. “This is my house. I can do whatever I want.”
“Yes, of course. Sir.”
For some reason, this triggers him. He stands up abruptly, stepping to you, leaning his face towards yours. The scar on the corner of his lip twitches when he gives you a wicked grin. “That’s right. I’m in charge here.”
You flinch from him, scared, maybe even slightly aroused. He’s intense, that’s for sure. But part of you finds it exhilarating to be in his presence.
Megumi whines for more food, to which Toji grabs the utensil from your hands to start feeding him. “Damn kid, he’s hungry all the fucking time.”
You sit up in your seat, regaining your composure. “You shouldn’t curse in front of children.”
He faces you, chuckling. “Curse? Seriously? What are you, five?”
You cross your arms, answering, “I’m twenty-one.”
“Interesting.” There’s that naughty smirk again, as if he’s thinking something obscene in that twisted head of his. And while you should be turned off, you’re not. You squeeze your legs together, pussy throbbing between your thighs. And of course, he notices this. He must, because he leans forward, lips grazing your ear, whispering, “Come by my room whenever Megumi is taking his nap. That’s an order.”
~~~
This is bad. Very, very bad.
You're supposed to be better than this. Clearly, you aren’t, because you’re currently getting railed by your employer’s husband while his child sleeps peacefully in the next room.
“Fuck, this pussy is tight,” he groans, pumping his thick cock in and out of you. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, his hips smacking against your ass as he thrusts into you. He’s got a tight grip on your hips, nails digging into your flesh, pounding away at your greedy pussy, absolutely drenched with arousal and lube. Your face is sticky with perspiration, pillow soaked with sweat and drool. It’s a fucking mess, but it doesn’t matter, because all you can think about is Toji fucking you until you’re seeing stars. Until your head is empty and nothing but his fat cock is occupying your thoughts.
“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard, princess. You gonna come again?”
You nod erratically, reaching your fingers to your clit. He smacks it away, doing it himself, his thumb flicking against your swollen bud. “Fucking come on my cock then. Make it nice and creamy for me, got it?”
His cock is buried deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you unravel, gushing around him once more. You’ve lost count on how many orgasms you’ve had in this short amount of time.
After your climax, he doesn’t pull out, fucking you even rougher. Your body is pliant around him, yielding to his every touch like putty. You’ve lost control of yourself, completely enraptured in the intense pleasure he surrounds you with.
He leans forward, chest pressed to your back, lips brushed to your ear. “I’m gonna knock you up. Give Megumi a little brother or sister. Would you like that?” He’s crazy. Completely unhinged. Absolutely fucking psycho.
“Fuck yes, I want that,” you moan. “Give it to me, daddy. Breed me.”
And apparently, so are you.
“Oh fuck yeah, take my fucking cum then,” he growls. The bed creaks violently below you, his backshots brutal and frantic now, cock desperate for release. “I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant. Make you mine.”
He shoots his hot load inside you, stuffing you full of his cum. He doesn’t stop until he’s fucked it deeper into your pussy, watching with that sexy look on his face as his creamy cum leaks out of your slit.
Lifting you up to lay comfortably on the bed, he rolls beside you, kissing you sloppily until Megumi’s whimpers blare through the baby monitor, indicating that he’s awake. Toji laughs, smacking your ass as you crawl over him to return to your real job.
~~~
You spend the remainder of your summer employed at the Fushiguro household until you have to go back to school. You and Toji continue to fuck each other silly every day that you’re working.
The day before you leave for college, you say your goodbyes to the family. Megumi’s mom, who remains blissfully unaware of your sins, hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ve finally saved enough money to afford a full-time nanny, so we’ll be fine.”
“It was my pleasure. I had a lot of fun. With Megumi,” you clarify, avoiding Toji’s gaze as he watches from the kitchen.
“Seriously. You’re a good person. I hope you know that.” She smiles, truly grateful. “And thank you for taking care of my good for nothing husband too.”
As the guilt of this dirty, filthy secret eats away at you, Toji stares at you from across the room, smirking.
#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji smut#toji x you#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut
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I think its genuinely fascinating how Biden has somehow become the bad vibes sin eater for the party. I'm seeing people who were doing the whole "voting doesn't matter both old men are the same" pivot hard into voting as harm reduction. The anti voting rhetoric has COMPLETELY lost The Youths on tiktok. People suddenly remember the good things the Biden administration has done but don't associate Harris with any of the things they didn't like. In my swing state volunteers are signing up in droves. People feel ENERGIZED, the vibe shift pre and post Biden dropping from the race has just been insane
Y'know, that is a... good way of putting it. It's also why I'm quite sure that Biden has probably been planning it for a while. I don't think he was intending to step down, and didn't want to be forced out at the drop of a hat, but after he realized that the circus was never going to stop until he did, he did the honorable fall-on-his-own-sword thing and definitely, DEFINITELY spent some time choreographing this behind the scenes. Because while the roll-out has been very smooth, it could just as easily (as many of us were expecting) have been a total disaster, and that doesn't happen without SOME planning. It's also entirely possible that the campaign staff flipped from Biden to Harris are superhuman, to come up with a massive online roll-out, new branding, new signs (they had plenty of 'em in Wisconsin yesterday), new everything, but I'm guessing it's a combination of both. Biden has spent his entire political career being underestimated, and after we literally made a meme out of Dark Brandon juking the Republicans out of their shoes, we should definitely give credit where credit is due in how masterfully he pulled it off.
Because we have had eight years defined by the central question of Whether The President Is a God King Who Should Serve For Life (the MAGAts obviously think yes), the sheer idea of a president willingly giving up his power BEFORE he had to is also novel and admirable. It's sad that this is the case, but so be it. The Republicans also got a heaping helping of Be Careful What You Wish For that was undoubtedly brilliant; they've been yelling for years that Biden is old and frail and can't serve and should step down. Biden went "lol okay" and gave it to them, and now they're fucked.
Aside from that, on the most basic level, it's far, far easier to see the actual difference in the parties with Harris as the nominee, just because it shows that one party is willing to make progress and reflect the new demographic reality and social mores of America, and the other one is not. Now to be clear, Biden deserves an incredible amount of credit for coming out of retirement (he was ALREADY 77 years old when he became president and had had decades of a long and respected career in public service behind him) to fight, beat Trump, and deliver an incredibly successful presidency. He held the line against authoritarianism at home and abroad, he rescued the trashed American economy and managed a world-leading recovery from Covid, he stood up for democracy, he spent four years filling the benches with liberal judges to reverse even some of the Trump/McConnell hack job, he finally passed comprehensive infrastructure investment and the Green New Deal under the name of the Inflation Reduction Act -- and so on. Many of these priorities had been languishing for decades or were completely trashed under Trump, and he could not have done so much in just 4 years without all that age, skill, and experience. Hence why all the Ageism!!! was (aside from being a Republican/media smear job) dumb. He's able to do the job because he has had decades to study. Turns out that makes you actually pretty damn good at it.
Yes, Biden could not do as much as he wanted or originally planned, had to deal with MAGA Republicans and Joe Manchin/Kyrsten Sinema sabotaging him the whole time (lololol Manchin, possible possessor of the World's Biggest Ego and with Trump around that's saying something, popping out of obscurity to self-righteously announce he would not be willing to be Kamala's VP. YEAH ASSHOLE. LITERALLY NOBODY ASKED YOU. NOBODY WHATSOEVER. NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS AT LEAST WE WILL SOON NO LONGER HAVE MANCHIN IN THE SENATE). And yes, Biden made some serious mistakes of his own, because he IS from an older generation and a different style of doing politics/different beliefs that no longer resonate with the younger segments of the electorate. But this old white Catholic guy at the age of almost 80 still managed to be the most progressive president ever, coming in at a moment of incredible domestic and international crisis and getting us safely to the other side, and all cynicism, criticizing, and caveating aside, he deserves an incredible amount of credit for that. I mean that absolutely, and I am very grateful.
As I said, willingly relinquishing that power takes guts, and when Biden saw the writing on the wall that he had to sacrifice himself, he took his time, he didn't jump too early, and he didn't jump too late. On the most basic level, it becomes a hell of a lot easier to make the "both parties are not the same" argument when one is running a (comparatively) young brown woman and the other is still running their loathed felonious old demented orange traitor. Most Americans are not plugged into policy minutiae and details. They look at Biden-Trump, they see two old white guys. When you take one of those old white guys away (who goes in a self-sacrificially heroic manner and in sharp contrast with the coup-happy fascist) and put Kamala Harris in there instead, it generates an obvious jolt. People can see for themselves that there is a real difference that doesn't rely on closely reading news and tracking complex policy, because as noted, most Americans simply don't. The brown first-generation American daughter of brown immigrants is a quantifiably different story from "old white guy career politician," which for better or worse is how Biden was seen, especially the old part. We needed that establishment expertise to beat Trump in 2020; I still think Biden is the only one who could have done it, and as noted, we owe him a great debt for doing so.
However.... 2024 is not 2020, and it is not 2016. There has been this HUGE and unbelievable swing to Kamala because she represents the antithesis of what the last eight years of Trump-induced anger, fear, panic, chaos, and hatred has stirred up. That's why people are so ready to rally around her, just as they were (I daresay) around Obama in 2008, after the exhaustion, chaos, war, and mounting economic misery of Bush. Trump has been out of office for the last four years, but his shadow over the American political landscape has been omnipresent. Now people know that we finally have a real chance at getting rid of him forever, and just as Biden was uniquely positioned to capitalize on that in 2020, so Harris is now. Which is why, however tough it will be, she has a real shot at winning. I can guarantee the Republicans know that, and are shit scared. Because the Black Lady Army of Democracy has indeed arrived in force to Get This Shit Done and I don't know about you, but I found that incalculably comforting:
Yikes! All lined up for Kamala pic.twitter.com/Dt4OCDp7WX
— Alex Cole (@acnewsitics) July 24, 2024
This, at the most basic level, is what scares fascists the most, it's exactly what we need now, and what Harris is uniquely positioned to mobilize, along with her gangbusters appeal to young voters:
This is the energy we need. This is what Biden saw and planned for and which he launched us into, and where all that experience and age paid off. This is why people, even people otherwise disengaged, disillusioned, or checked out of the tedious and mind-numbering drudgery and depression of American politics, are responding to it. Because it's easy to understand, it offers hope, and it tells a very simple story that is nonetheless long overdue:
Thanks so much, Joe. Go absolutely waste that orange fucker, Kamala. We got your back.
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When joking about how ridiculous it is that Fabian is popular I don’t think people realize how insanely cool the bad kids are in universe. As viewers we see their cool moments but we also see them being dorks and lame idiots. Think about their in universe reputations and how you would react to hearing about them if you lived in the same world as them.
There is a group of six people who saved the world 3 different times before they even entered their junior year of high school.
One of them never showed up to any of their classes until their third year and still passed. She is a rockstar and arch devil of rebellion who owns a recording studio in hell where she plays the bass.
One dude threw the greatest party the entire high school has ever seen, is captain of the sports team, and killed the school’s evil principal without facing any punishment.
One performed a motorcycle kick-flip that was doing a jump off of a mansion’s roof into a pool of flaming tartar sauce. Said kick-flip student has created a god, killed that god, brought herself back from the dead, and resurrected a completely different god.
One of the girls is the chosen oracle of all elves and punched her dad so hard he instantly died. Also if you dig deep enough into the political history books it turns out she caused there to be a feud (bordering on full war) between her home nation and the nation she currently lives in.
The quietest kid of the bunch is a super genius who invented a solar lasso that captured and contained an eldritch horror into his van, took 4 years of high school all at once and passed all of them, is currently acing his arcane mechanics and physical Ed studies, and is the second hand man on the school sports team. He also is the drummer for the arch devil’s band and launched a fully working satellite into space before he even started studying arcane mechanics.
Finally the “dork” of their group is an arcane consultant of heaven, became a P.I. after freshman year, is currently in every extra-curricular school club, and is beloved by seemingly all of his underclassmen. Also after he found out that the dragon his party was fighting ate his dad he fucking ATE IT to avenge him.
Obviously we know the truth behind all of these things and the actual way these six dorks act, but think how insanely sick they all sound in universe.
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bro i’m going absolutely INSANE over alastor 😻😻
so, how about when lucifer comes by the hotel, he subtly flirts w alastors girl. alastor is on the verge of going apeshit and almost leaves charlie fatherless.
instead of murdering anyone, he decides to take his frustrations out on his darling, leaving bite marks and hickies on spots just visible enough for lucifer to notice next time he comes by..
a/n: im OBSESSED 😍😍
alastor immediately recognized lucifer as competition on multiple fronts. obviously, the king of hell was a threat in terms of power level, and alastor hated that. but alastor also quickly hated how charming the devil was.
upon meeting you, lucifer takes your hand and bows, placing a kiss on your hand as well. alastor's eye twitches, watching someone else put their dirty little hands and mouth on what is his. "my, what a pleasure. you're helping charlie? that's lovely! means i'll get to be seeing you around more, huh? she didn't mention such a pretty little thing was her hotel manager." lucifer speaks to you, a cool smirk on his face. he's clearly interested in you, and while alastor can't blame the man, he's seething with rage. clearing his throat, alastor takes a step towards you and reaches a hand out to lucifer in an attempt to shift his attention.
"alastor." he speaks, barely containing the anger in his voice. "it truly is an honor to be meeting you, sir." you raise a brow at the tense interaction going on in front of you but pay it no mind. lucifer gives alastor a tight lipped smile and shakes his hand. "ah, you as well. charlie has talked about you." you notice the way alastor glares at lucifer, yet keeps a smile on his face the entire time. lucifer turns back to you, putting a gloved hand on the small of your back. "now how's about a tour, hm?" he leans into your ear to whisper, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.
behind you, alastor's horns grow and eyes redden, ready to risk it all in a fight with the devil and take out this whole god damned hotel if it meant lucifer never touched you again. "o-oh um, that's typically done by-" you start, but suddenly, charlie is running down the stairs with a panicked look on her face.
"heeyy dad! let's go this way, towards your room! it's late, you should rest." her smile is clearly fake, and you see her eyes dart from you to alastor and back to you. luckily, alastor reeled in his rage when the princess showed up and was back to his normal self on the surface. you can feel the energy coming from your partner, malicious intent painted all over his aura and you gulp. "al, c'mon... charlie's right."
alastor doesn't speak, but he follows you to your room for the night. the door is barely shut before alastor is lifting your legs and tossing you onto the bed. "care to explain why the fuck that little slimy king of hell was all over you?" he doesn't give you another moment to process before he's tugging your shirt over your head. "it's just harmless, al. you know i don't want anyone but you." you assure him, but alastor's teeth find your neck.
"i may trust you, darling, but i do not trust lucifer." his voice has a low growl to it that ignites your core. "but-" you gasp when alastor's mouth closes on the skin behind your ear, nipping it with sharp teeth. "no, because he and everyone in this place will know who you belong to." you shudder underneath of him, slight tinges of pain shooting down your spine at every nip and pull of your skin. alastor moves down your neck, leaving a trail of angry red and purple spots in his wake.
his tongue circles every bruise in an attempt to soothe your inflamed skin, but the marks just darken by the second. you hands dive into his hair, holding onto the silky strands. you feel alastor's body shudder as you circle the tufts of hair by his ears, making him press his hips to yours. "everyone in hell, my dear, is going to know that you're mine. not a single soul will ever try to touch you again." his breathing hitches, grinding his quickly hardening cock against your leg. you whimper when his teeth latch onto your collarbone, sucking hard and adding another welt to your skin.
"i want him to hear you." he hisses as he tugs your pants down over your ankles. its hasty, the way alastor frees his cock and pushes into your pussy, but you were more than ready for the intrusion. you cry out, suddenly being so, so full and alastor groans. "yes darling, just like that." your legs wrap around his waist, forcing every thrust just a little further until he's pounding at your cervix.
"d-don't stop sir." you gasp, eyes rolling into the back of your head while alastor's mouth latches onto the other side of your neck this time. "who do you being to?" he asks, hot breath fanning your skin. "y-you, alastor!" you whine, flexing your hips up to his in an attempt to build friction. "please, make me cum. only you feel so good." alastor peppers you in soft kisses now, ever grateful that you're willing to entertain the idea of letting lucifer know just who makes you feel like this.
alastor sneaks a hand between your bodies to rub skillful circles around your clit until your legs start shaking. "good, good girl. scream for me." he smirks when your tone shifts and he can tell by how tight you squeeze around his cock. "a-alastor fuck!" your body spasms, waves of pleasure rolling over you as you cum. alastor's orgasm follows shortly after, his teeth finding your skin once more as he spills deep inside of your pussy.
you have a brief moment of embarrassment when you think about just how loud you just were, your hand flying up to your mouth. alastor just laughs, placing a kiss on your forehead. "don't panic, my sweet. i think this little display will prove quite effective in keeping lucifers grubby little hands off of you." alastor pulls out slowly and carries you to a nice warm shower before tucking you in for the night.
---
"jesus christ, did you get into a fuckin' fight with a bear?" angel laughs when you walk into the kitchen the next morning. you were covered in hickeys all the way down your neck, and you were barely walking straight. lucifer refuses to make eye contact with you, especially after alastor walks into the room shortly after. "good morning everyone!" alastor chirps, smirking at lucifer who rolls his eyes and sips his coffee.
"well, there's the bear..." husk mutters, earning a cackle from angel.
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