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#and than they died horrifically anyway
dirtytransmasc · 9 months
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saw someone say they're we're happy Alicent's and Otto's deaths forced them "realize what they had done" and like...
Otto's one thing, I get the animosity. but Alicent? your getting hot and bothered over her realizing she failed, she failed to save her children, she failed to protect them, to them alive? that she tried so hard, so fucking hard, making every hard decision, trying to get between her children and the fate they were damned to by Viserys and Rhaenyra? that she damned her kids, who were already damned to die to begin with, and had to suffer the guilt of them dying to her own hand? that she's going to drive herself mad with grief over her children, her grandchildren?
like... it's not satisfying (especially for show Alicent) watching a woman go so mad with grief it literally kills her because she fought with everything she had to save her children only for them to die anyway. ever since her father's exile, when Rhaenyra's lies took Viserys's favor, when Viserys ignored the Rhaenyra's sons bastardhood at the risk of the whole house, or when Luke took Aemond's eye and Viserys demanded good will; she knew her children's lives were forfeit. then Daemon killed Vaemond and her children's coffins were built, catching cobweb's all the while. she knew and she fought it desperately, taking risk after risk, living in fear until her moment came, she could out Aegon on the thrown, she could protect her kids, maybe, just fucking maybe they'd be safe... only for it to lead to a war that would kill her entire family.
her death, slow and tragic as it was, is heartbreaking. she didn't deserve it, she deserved to feel safe, to feel as though she could allow her past friend take the thrown without her children being at risk to feel as though she and her children weren't being circled by wolves and picked at by vulture's. she didn't deserve to live alone and die alone. she didn't deserve to have her hands coated in her children's blood.
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starry-bi-sky · 2 months
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more cfau miscellaneous things because Childhood Friends Danny and Jason have my head and heart always and I need to finish rewriting chapter two dammit (and redo the half-finished chapter 4 because its just Not The Vibes). i'm almost through I need to get through the graveyard scene. (i just stubbornly refuse to have it be shorter than the original chapter and thats the little death. that is the mind killer.)
Danny and jason’s ghost forms both smell faintly like burnt flesh and cigarettes. However, Jason has a more smokey smell while Danny’s smells almost,,, electrical? In a sense? Like he just straight up smells like burnt flesh and sulphur while Jason smells like someone put him in a smoker first.
It’s very much an unpleasant smell but Danny finds an odd comfort in it just as much as he finds a comfort in the smell of nicotine.
(Jason post-revival smells burnt flesh once and is immediately offput by the fact that it brings him an instinctive comfort. He doesn’t realize its because it reminds him of Danny, and is uncomfortable by it.)
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In an au of an au, Danny’s altercation with Rath ends with Rath regaining enough of his sanity to snap out of the grieving state and ends with him breaking down. Instead of being souped and imprisoned, Rath, who is permanently 14, decides to Move On into the unknown. He’s exhausted, heartbroken, and tired.
(Is this influenced heavily by the ParaNorman scene where he talks to Agatha and helps her move on? Yes. But it doesn’t fit with the Original Storyline so im shoving it into an Au of an Au.)
Rath tells Danny that Jason lied to them (which he genuinely believes), and that he’s tired of waiting/looking for him/grieving. Jason is gone. He isn’t coming back, he abandoned them. And he wants his mom and dad, and his sister, and his friends. And he’s ready to join them.
He leads Danny out to Gotham, which other than Amity Park might’ve been the only city left untouched due to Rath’s own mental block on the place. They go out to the park he and Jason used to frequent or up to one of crime alley’s rooftops, and there Rath lies down and goes to sleep. Only to never wake up again, materializing into nothing as his soul moves on.
Before Rath leaves, he forces Danny to promise him that he’ll only wait for Jason for ten years. After that if he doesn’t find him, or if Jason doesn’t show, then Danny has to move on. Whether that be like how Rath does, or if its inly mentally/emotionally, doesn’t matter. He has to move on. Don’t wait for him. Don’t waste his time any more.
(“Oh, and if you find him, kick his ass for me.”)
Danny reluctantly agrees, and Rath lies down. Danny sings to him as he falls asleep.
(Angsty points if the vigilantes including Red Hood caught wind of their presence and were silently watching from the shadows. Rath might know they’re there, but Danny’s too focused on Rath to notice.)
(If only so that Red Hood realizes that this is what happened to Danny, and that Danny is gone before he can make things right. The tragedy, folks. The angst. The initial realization that Danny was Rath, and then also that Danny was dead and has been dead for years, and that before he moved on, he moved on believing that Jason abandoned him.)
(like i said it doesn't fit in the original timeline/storyline hence why its an au of an au and isn't nearly a fleshed out, but i was largely just focusing on the tragedy of Rath moving on and Jason being alive to see it and realize just who Rath is.)
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Just like how the Lazarus pits shot Jason's twiggy 4'6-5'4 (depending on what you find) feet tall and 86lb ass up like a tree an essentially fixed his malnutrition, the portal did the same thing for Danny.
(granted i forgot about malnutrition and danny's likely stunted growth at first -- his family lived in crime alley and despite both his parents working, I don't think they had enough food all the time. He probably wasn't as badly malnourished as Jason was, but he wasn't healthy either.)
Granted his ghost in its "natural" state (14) is short, and his growth spurts were slow at first, it did result in him reaching his dad's height. There were points where it just happened overnight, like a baby. He went to bed one night 5’6 and woke up the next day 5’10.
Jazz is shorter than him. Although I have't decided if she's even liminal at all (and if she is, it didn't cure everything because she would have also suffered childhood malnutrition, and since in au canon their parents didn't get their hands on physical ectoplasm until after they got to Amity Park. So the exposure is less.)
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Danny's voice absolutely sounds like canon Dan's. It kinda just dropped one day when he was 16-17 and never went back up. Sam and Tucker sometimes ask him to just talk about anything because they find his voice soothing.
I'm not sure yet how Danny would feel about it at first considering Rath, but I imagine that Rath, when he did speak, would have had a quieter and scratchier/weaker voice considering he's spent the last decade shrieking and crying.
(and i suppose technically that shouldn't have any effect on his throat considering he's a ghost and idk if that would actually affect him, but i like the idea so im keeping it)
In the beginning you could hear him from a mile away by the sound of his loud, echoing wails, but ten years later you can only really hear him by the soft, shuddering sobs he makes. Like he's gasping for air that isn't there. The future is full of very quiet survivors.
And it's much easier to speak when you pitch your voice upwards (especially when whispering/speaking quietly) so he might've spoken in a higher, airy pitch in order to be heard. So Danny might actually find a comfort in having a lower voice.
#tw mentions of gore#cw gore#i suppose this counts as gore#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc#dpxdc crossover#childhood friends au#cfau#really leaning into the idea of rath just being a horror. the horrors! i am delighted in the horrors!#im having fun with it#i swear to god turning 19 turned a switch on in my brain because i am much more comfortable with gore and heavy injury now than i was l#literally a year ago. the urge to write about some of danny's most horrific injuries in his fights is STRONG#like the hORRORS folks. *th horrors*. i dont think i'll ever write a dissection fic because that icks me out but the idea that danny's had#to stitch up his own throat because it got slit in a fight nd he cant shift back to human until he's done because his ghost will survive bu#his body wont#the idea that he's been impaled multiple times before and it hurts each fucking time but he still gets up and hurls the hurt right back in#equal measure. because that's how you wanna play? okay. lets play. he's 14 and his best friend is dead. he can play.#and the idea that all ghosts have 'corpse' forms where their ghosts look exactly like how they died. and danny is utterly unrecognizable#jazz being liminal or not just isnt important to me because she's barely gonna show up in the story anyways#same reason why i hardly use the headcanon that ellie becomes danny's daughter because what use is she to me like that? she'll hardly have#an impact on the story and i refuse to treat characters like props. if they can't help progress the story then they aren't included
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skygemspeaks · 6 months
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i think that the most heartbreaking thing about log horizon for me personally is that it was SO good until it got real fucking weird about minori's crush on shiroe
is it normal for a middle school girl to have a crush on a much older guy who she looks up to and who treats her nicely? yeah, of course, and there's nothing wrong with portraying that either
where it gets really fucking squicky is when the narrative starts treating her as an actual (romantic) threat to the main love interest, who is ten years older than her. and did i mention the guy she has a crush on is also ten years older than her. and the main love interest gets jealous when the main character pays attention to this literal child
edit: also did i mention the main love interest also looks the same age as the middle schooler
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chippendyke · 1 month
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I’ve forgotten how to interact with fandom spaces or any kind of online community for that matter like I’ve just been doing my own thing for years now. Talking how I want to talk enjoying what I want having my own thoughts and judgements and curating my own online space. Happiest I’ve ever been. Who the fuck cares what anybody on here thinks of you. It doesn’t matter it never mattered I hate writing about pages and DNIs and BYFs and going along with what the rest of Tumblr believed or deemed right or not. Nothing makes me feel crazier than pretending to be someone I’m not and I’ve long accepted that I’m not what I’m expected to be on here. I’ve accepted my beliefs have completely changed over the last year, that they are capable of changing and they’re not exactly what people want to hear. Maybe they’ll change their mind like I did or stay the same, that’s not my life to live. Genuinely just do whatever the fuck you want man. Fuck that character. Watch those shows. Do whatever brings you peace because life is too short and too precious to sweat about it. Surround yourself with honest people and be open-minded most importantly. Change is good and I always am.
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aeide-thea · 2 years
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the thing about 9/11 is that it got used post facto to justify all sorts of hideous jingoistic shit but also it was a genuine devastating human tragedy and i really pretty deeply resent people's deciding that the—absolutely gross, don't get me wrong—way it's been culturally positioned justifies their making jokes about the event itself.
#like. my mother worked basically next door and watched people fall to horrific deaths and had to make her way home thru the horror#and was quite frankly never the same again#and like. the idea that people can look at that and dehumanize all those who died enough to be comfortable making jokes—#i personally think is deeply fucked up and not in fact any kind of ~social justice~#like roll yr eyes at the overblown commemorative pomp and circumstance all you want but like. real people died absolutely horrific deaths#and being flippant about it—sucks‚ actually‚ even if they WERE ~complacent americans who supported capitalism~ or whatever#(not to mention like. it was a really wide slice of humanity actually. but god forbid we consider the actual people as people)#anyway i deeply resent that i feel the need to make this post at all#bc quite frankly i would be more than glad to let the event fade out of active memory and think that's probably the best way to move forward#but unfortunately fucking br*nd*nicus is apparently out here making posts abt how the ~anniversary is worthy of derision~#and it's like. what if we just. let it go without either the weird performative jingoistic bullshit OR being fucking dicks.#anyway whatever i guess i'm not like. appropriately leftist or something#but personally i don't think real people's horrifying deaths are cool to make cracks about. sorry if that makes me a conservative buzzkill.#like i get that it was different outside of new york or washington but like. some of us were IN new york actually.#and yeah to be clear people in the middle east subsequently died similarly horrific deaths because of the way 9/11 got leveraged#and we ought to respect and remember those too#doing THAT on 9/11 would imo be a lot more meaningful than sneering at dead americans but also it would actually take work and sincerity#neither of which most tumblr users are up for
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nomaishuttle · 7 months
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the two rules of sweeney todd cast recordjngs is 1. theyll never be better than 2012 london cast talk to the hand 2. theyll never be worse than 2005 broadway cast talk to the hand
#sry im literlly such a 2005 castrecording hater like im such a huge anti. i hate jt so baddd sounds like ass. they took the entire#orchestra out back and shot them dead leaving one piano player and.told him to judt make it work and then told sweeney that his entire#family died in a horrific fire immediately b4 he started rcording.#like im sorry ik sweeneys like a sad guys obvi i would be too yk sucks sucks Pooor thing better you should think she was dead yes i lied#cuz i looove you id be TWICE the wife she was i LOOOOOVE YOU HOW COULD THAT THING HAVE CARED FOR YOU LIKE ME !!!#anyways. but he just like. ik this sounds mena but his voice Sounds like a voice somebody would do to make fun of sweeney.#like it sounds like somebody mocking a mopey guy. but thats just the voice the guy uses 4 sweeney like..#also sry. im pretty sure the final scene lyrics they use in 2005 r the same as the original script from the 80s however. those lyrics just#dont flow as well ss the slightly edited version for the 2012.. like. hold on let me compare..#so the original Your Lucy!A crazy hag picking bones and rotten spuds out of alley ashcans!#Would you have wanted to know that she ended up like that?#whereas in 2012 its Your Lucy a mad hag. picking bones and rotten spuds out of dustbins#would you have wanted to know thats how she ended up ? and it just FLOWS BETTER SRYY.#ik its also partially bc most sweeney iterations r set. when sweeney is actually set where as 2012 sort of uses the framing devide of#disgruntled workers inn. i wanna say the 1920s? somewhere around there. which btw genius i love that devision.to draw parallels between the#working conditions of both time periods its quite genius babes. loveee to 2012 london cast recording. and it bangs far harder than those#other girls..#but like basically..imelda staunton if i ever get the opportunity i will genuinely give you 5billion dollars i dont think Aybody could ever#top her eprformance as mrs lovett. lifechanging. showstopping incredible#and michael balls sweeney is sooo good as well likee. he does such a good job balancing between like. i understand this guy. like i get him#i know his kotivationa and also This guy is fucking scary as hell#like he plays sweeney as far more like. Enraged than depressed. and i think it works RLY well for his interpretation of the character..#basically 🫰 <- thats for 2012 london cast. I wish that cast recording had all of the songs on its rly rather sickening.NO PIRELLIS MIRACLE#ELIXIR. LIKE IS IT A JOKEEEE DO YOU WANT ME DEAD ON THE STREETS? YOU SIR? ANYBIDY? GENTLEMEN NOW DONT BE SHY?#whatever. the one positive ill say for 2005 sweeney is that his performance. at times..is hysterical#i hate their version of final scene due to 2012 final scene being My favorite sweeney song. however. his like. Oh my god and also the judge#when he kills the judge and he says barker like hes powering up. he goes barkeeEEEEERRRRRR. whys that more acting than he did the entire#rest of the show. like its weird bc he was simultaneously over acting (as was the rest of the cast imo) and underacting ? like they were so#over dramatically sad that it looped back into them being completely flat and emotionless. its tly kind of impressive#but in fjnal scene when he goes OH NO !!!!! oh gOOOod. that was so funny
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jinkiezzsstuff · 2 months
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Met the Devil 2
lucifer x human!reader
sorry this took forever it’s been hectic i guess im in my fanfic writer era of madness happening and mentioning it in the a/n (im joking… unless) anyways lads hopefully this is okay womp womp
Part [1]
Based on devilish folklore and wives tales so lucifer may be ooc!
Warnings: BODYHORROR; DESCRIPTIONS OF TEETH FALLING OUT. Mentions of blood, reader dies a goofy ahh death, lucifer being an unsure wreck, and he’s got no game, reader is perpetually confused, inaccurate descriptions of religion, swearing, not proof read and i don’t entirely know where i’m going with this teehee lmk whatcha think xxx
word count: 3.1K
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Three months, it had been three exhausting months since the incident with Lucifer. As if there was some devine intervention, everything seemed to fall at your feet working out for you, while also simultaneously sucking. Career wise, you were doing much better, after working for Marie and watching her house keeping it exactly how she wished, excluding the devil you had intercourse with, she put in a word for you at her and her husbands church, which you ended up getting.
Although not a very important role, it paid well. You were mostly in charge of cleanliness, cleaning the areas in the front where children played, keeping the holy fountain fresh, sweeping the pews and repairing any unbinded bibles. However the staff weren’t particularly fond of you, the nuns avoided you like the plague, and the priest gave you glares. Thankfully you rarely interacted with them if at all.
However, while your career was better than before, your physical health wasn’t. Things tanked once you slept with the devil. It started slow, noticing hues appear in your skin that you hadn’t before. Despite the various skin, and blood tests, and the general run down of different illnesses that cause changing pigmentation, there was no evidence to prove anything was truly wrong, just random hues of pinks, purples and blues showing up like you were some corpse.
The second minuet thing to change was your nails, at first you foolishly wondered if your calcium intake increased causing the thickness in your nails to double, but you quickly scrapped that al when your nails grew more rapidly. You really hadn’t changed much diet wise for that to be true, odd as it was it wasn’t something you hated.
The worst of it was teeth. One night you woke to a horrific splitting headache, it wasn’t just one part of your head either. The pain seared through your jaw, down your neck, up your face through your cheeks and in the back of your eyes all the way to the tip top of your head. You walked half asleep half dazed from pain to the bathroom, once the light blinded you and you got woken up a bit was when your brain registered the feeling.
Your mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood as you tuned into the sound of tapping in your mouth as the loose teeth collided. When you threw yourself over your sink spitting continuously, you immediately began to cry feeling your empty gums with your tongue, and the worst part was it seemed you had swallowed some too as the amount in the sink didn’t amount to how much was missing.
That night you must’ve passed out because you were woken up by your angry family member shouting at you to hurry. The strangest thing was, however you awoke with teeth, sharp as razors, and the porcelain sink that was never cleared of blood or teeth was now cleaned.
Since your teeth, you managed to not lose nor gain any other strange things, and the only people who didn’t seem to look past these oddities were the people who attended the church or worked at it. It was like they could tell you slept with Lucifer, something in their eyes always felt so intense and aware even if they’d never spoken to you before. The strangeness didn’t end with your appearance or career.
You had weird dreams you couldn’t explain, it felt so real but once awake you could only remember how you felt about the dream. You had close interactions with certain animals, like ducks, goats, crows, and insects as well. It was like they sought you out no matter where you were, people would give you looks when you started greeting the goat like an old friend.
So,now three months after Lucifer, you changed a lot. You know it’s because of him, you just can’t figure out why, but soon you’ll know. Walking into your work place on your day off, everybody’s least favourite thing to do, but it had to be done. You saw the father reading a bible off to the side of the room, and so you approached. He gave you a stern look, and you could tell by his stiff and shifty body language he wasn’t too happy with your presence, antsy to see what it is you wanted.
“Good afternoon father, how’re you?” You start, standing in a way you perfected prior to attempt to seem unthreatening. The priest hummed closing his bible to pay attention to you. “Good child, good. How’re you, is there something i could aid you in?” Straight to the point, mentally you cheered happy you didn’t have to waltz around small talk for fifteen minutes.
“Well i’m alright father, thank you. I was actually wondering about, um, the devil?” The priest's head lulls back slightly eyebrows raised as his mouth opens with a silent o. “Is there temptation in your life?” You shifted on your feet at the question. You hadn’t really thought of it before but you suppose you felt more inclined to act without thinking,and indulge especially after Lucifer claimed you.
“Well yes, but i was more so wondering on what the devil is capable of? Like making deals, and stuff…” You trail eyes casted away to the large sculpture of jesus on the wall. “Nothing, the devil isn’t as strong as gods love. And never in the bible does it state the devil makes deals, that is but a wives tale.” The priest spoke sternly, punctuating his words to get his point across.
This was news to you however, you always thought the devil was more of a a character in the bible. “Father one more question?” You say head snapping back to look at him. “If the devil were to have intercourse with a person, what’s said to be the outcome? Will god punish?” The poor priest looked like he’d seen a ghost, yet you couldn’t comprehend why. Although slightly morbid you didn’t think the question was that out there, perhaps it was the monotonous way you’d said it.
“I’m afraid i don’t have the answer to that,” And with that the priest stood, excusing himself from your conversation walking off down the isle. “I heard the devil picks somebody to carry the antichrist.” Turning to the voice, there sat a woman, old looking wearing a light blue dress. “The anti christ?” You repeat mostly to yourself, but the elderly woman hummed. “Yep. Woo’s the target, sleeps with them, and they give birth to the antichrist. Bad things happen once the child’s born.” The woman explained turning to look back at you.
“And, what if there’s no anti christ, what if the devil just like…” The old lady cackled looking at your puzzled face. She tsked and ushered you near. When in front of her she met your eyes, again with that weirdly all knowing look on them everyone in the church seemed to give you. Holding out her hand to you, you opened yours holding it out to her.
She placed something in your hand but you weren’t able to know what it was before you dropped it shrieking. It was like gripping a hot coal, you gripped your wrist keeled over trying to breath out the pain. Your eyes briefly glanced over to the floor where the object dropped and sitting there was a gold rosary covered in what was more than likely your blood. Peaking up from your bent over position the old woman had took several steps back from you, hand up to her mouth.
Not knowing what to do, you perked up, thanked her for her input, and sped out to the street. Just like the night you met him, the sky darkened and clashed with lightning, then came the rain. The devil himself must’ve worked through water with the way it was a constant anytime something happened.
Walking down the street at leisure, you inspected the wound the rosary left as rain pelted you like no tomorrow. You sighed brushing your thumb over the large cross shaped gash. Suddenly a crack of lightning came down brightly, it was harsh and so very bright. Then another crack, this time however you felt the harshest pain describable. It was like being lit on fire inside your body, or like your blood was suddenly filled with glass shards and you could feel them coursing through.
You couldn’t scream too in pain, you simply slumped to the floor, the searing pain engulfing your body. As your eyes closed, it felt like the floor was sucking you down, but you couldn’t move. You couldn’t even will your eyes to open as you felt the concrete below you begin to engulf you fully. Your lungs burnt as you couldn’t breathe, but like any other regular circumstance where you’d gasp for breath, you were physically unable to. Like you’re body didn’t know how to breath, so you sat there chest feeling tight, burning and your stomach feeling like it was forcing itself inward but nothing changed.
As torturous as it was, it was short lived and finally you felt freed. The concrete beneath you morphed into something softer cozier, the breathlessness left finally you were able to fill your lungs with air almost as refreshing as a glass of water would’ve been, and when you opened your eyes you were greeted by the sight of a bedroom. It was decorated with whites, reds and golds, around you could see engraved apples and ducks in not only the door frames and baseboards but some of the furniture as well.
You couldn’t will yourself to sit up, you still felt the fire on the inside of your body albeit gentler than before. “Hey cookie.” Cooed a smooth voice, you didn’t have to look to know who it was, but thankfully he stepped in front of you, kneeling down to your laying figure. “How you feeling?” You stared at his face, scanning it over and over, his eyes were hauntingly beautiful. The red irises danced around nervously, you watched intently as his forked tongue brushed against the dryness of his lips.
“You’re beautiful.” You mutter half muffled by the fact you sunk comfortably into the mattress that you lay on. Chuckling quietly the king of hell turned and sat on the side of the bed, petting your head very gently like you were made of glass. “Where am i?” His hand stuttered on your head, and finally you rolled over onto you back to gain the view of him. His hat discarded, his suit jacket gone, he sat only in a vest, dress shirt, and his white suit pants.
“Hell, sweetheart.” It was interesting how warmly he had said that to you, looking down at you with almost a pitying expression. “I’m dead?” You jerked up, immediately regretting it as the pain shot through your body from the top of your head down. Sucking in air through your teeth, clenching your eyes shut Lucifer cooed at you reprimanding you for being too quick. “God must’ve struck you down.” His voice lifted as he let out his attempt at a joke, but you weren’t really in the mood to laugh.
“What happened, with me when i was alive.” You ask looking over to him, the expression he had looked slightly guilty, his eyes casted downward, a frown that tried to be a poker face- but failed. “I, well y’see, heh,” Lucifer fumbled picking at his nails and looking around the room. He bounced himself against the mattress almost like he was amping himself up. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay! So y’know you got some human repellant, claws, sharp teeth, that dead look. Sent some little guardians after you! Too bad you couldn’t meet the snake.” Lucifer tisked mournfully shaking his head.
You smiled at him, oddly enough, it was quite endearing that he set out to do these things to keep you safe. “Oh!” He sprung up meeting your eyes properly. “I also made Marie get you that job, and I forced a good pay, always here to help y’know.” The king briefly pinched your cheek before retracting and standing. He looked frazzled, uncertain, he pulled at his clothes like he was trying to fix them. “Sorry it’s been awhile. Y’know i gave up going to earth in like 1850.” The devil laughed out, scratching the back of his neck.
You scooted yourself to the edge of the bed, Lucifer watching intently. “So, what, well I mean, why…?” You were confused head bobbing as you tried to make sense of everything. Things didn’t entirely add up this you were certain of, and you could tell the king was keeping something hidden from you. “As you know hell is well, it’s hell, and you were so…” He trailed off hands circling eachother as he gazed off into space, attempting to find the right words.
Deflating his body slumped over, in one foul swoop it looked as though he’d lost all the will to keep up his charade. “Look I didn’t think you were gonna shake my hand, but in the moment I was hooked on you. The night you took the apple reminded me of days of my life i can’t go back to. So i may have indulged, but i didn’t expect you to be soooo,”
Your eyebrows pinched together as you watched him with judgement, giving him a look that egged him on, yet warned him. “Captivating?” You ‘hmphed’ at his term, as weak and guilty grin overtaking his face. “Okay okay. I enjoyed our night, you gave me advice and helpful conversation I haven’t gotten in, pfft,” He was now pacing, eyes wide as his arms wrapped around himself as a way to secure him.
“Ever, you were a breath of fresh air! I didn’t expect the deal to go through! I didn’t expect you to grab my hand, so when you sold your soul you started to gain those devilish features. I wanted to make sure you were still safe so I manipulated Marie, got you the job, but nothing else was planned!” He exclaimed hands coming up in defence, although it wasn’t like you were angry, you sat there patiently watching him and waiting for him to finish his explanation at his own pace. Understanding this was probably just as stressful for him, if what he says is true.
Blowing out air the king pulled gently at his hair. “I don’t know what to do from here, I sent animals to protect you, I knew something would happen, damnit!” The short man raged eyes blowing up red, that snapped you up, gently you grabbed his shoulders. “I believe you, I have no idea what’s going on either so it’s okay! I’m terrified, but you don’t look any better. Maybe we can figure it out together?” You suggest attempting to be a voice of reason, watching his eyes hue from bright red to the yellow and red irises you’re more familiar with.
He sighed and nodded looking slightly embarrassed. “Do you think we could set some ground rules?” You quirked a brow at that, watching as he once again began to pace. “My daughter, Charlie, we spoke about her, she can’t know I made a deal with you! And for now, she can’t know i did anything sexual. Oh no no no. NO!” Lucifer panicked, switching between gripping his hair and swinging his arms around. It felt like a stab in the gut, it wasn’t your first time being a secret, but you wish you could’ve kept the promise you made to yourself about getting into another situation where you were just a secret fling.
“I’m not gonna pretend that doesn’t get under my skin slightly, I’d prefer not to be the devil's dirty secret, but I understand what Charlie means to you so I’ll do whatcha need.” Lucifer looked at you sheepishly, it seemed like he slightly regretted the choice of delivery as you crossed your arms across your chest, looking at him with a tinge of disgust in your eye. “Okay next, uh let's see, okay you’ll pose as my assistant and you’ll spend the days with me so I can keep an eye on ya….”
You quirk your head, pondering if you should say what you want to say. Which was questioning him and the motive here, it’s normal to say things you don’t always mean in such an intense moment of sex fueled emotion, but now there’s a big consequence and you’re not sure if he really knows what he wants to do. “Hey,” You say quietly grabbing him from his frantic mumbling that he was doing to himself. He hummed at you, his attention refocused on you as he did. “Do you at all regret the deal.”
Lucifers eyes blew wide, his lips puckering as his fingers fiddled with each other. “Regret is a very loaded work y’know- uh, I think- eh, maybe if- okay so,” He fumbled his wings popping out feathers flying around as they did, they puffed out with stress making you gawk. “Uhm, I wouldn't do it again if I had the choice! But still I would've wanted the sex!” Finally he pumped his chest proudly, meanwhile you rolled your eyes. “That’s what most men would do, yeah.” Your tone was bitter, catching him off guard a bit, to be fair he didn’t know what you wanted from him. Normally deals were two sided, but this one you benefited nothing from, except trauma and an early grave.
“I didn’t mean that,” Damn he really lost his way after Lilith huh, every flirtation came out so naturally but now it seemed it was so unsure, no king of a whole mini word of demons should be unsure, he mentally scolded himself for being so unfit.
“Listen can we figure this out later, I still feel the pain from when I died, so I would love to sleep that off.” You say plopping yourself back on the comfy mattress. “Yes, yes of course go ahead! We’ll figure this out together hm, shedevil? Won’t leave you in the dark!” This time his exclamation sounded certain as he jumped into the bed with you, snapping his fingers so the lights blinked out. You hummed too lazy to respond and crawled underneath the covers, it was nice, warm and smelt like him, underneath the covers you felt him slip in with you, his body heat emitting off of him in waves.
You hoped your mind was less clouded tomorrow, hopefully you could have a better conversation with the king about this deal, get things sorted out.
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tossawary · 6 months
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As much as I enjoy "[Character] did nothing wrong" jokes, I really do enjoy the fact that the MXTX main characters and their love interests very much did some wrong things, actually. Like, yeah, some of their horrific crimes or even just mild wrongdoings are down to impossible circumstances and personal damage that was caused by someone else, but they all have agency and guilt and have to deal with the sort of interpersonal conflicts where no one is the winner. It is so, SO humanizing to have them be imperfect and rude and petty and selfish sometimes! They have hurt people unintentionally and intentionally! It makes their good qualities and efforts to improve shine all the brighter!
And also, I really love it as an aspect of queer romances specifically. If Wei Wuxian or Shen Qingqiu or Xie Lian had never done anything wrong in their lives, then the fact that they fall in love with men might carry an unintentional "look at these poor, innocent gay people who are being mistreated for no reason" message, which could carry the unintentional suggestion that queerness can be "earned" with good behavior. No, these characters have fucked up and have fucked up BADLY. There are such fascinating themes in these books about loving people who are seen as monsters or have done monstrous things, about having done unforgivable things yourself, about questioning what exactly is "sinful" and what you do with your life after your good reputation in "good society" has been utterly ruined.
This also brings up themes about "deserving". None of the characters are loved because they necessarily "deserve" to be loved, but because someone chose to love them. They get happy endings not because they "deserve" them - lots of characters in these stories "deserved" better and died anyway - but because they fought for them and were lucky. And I personally find that more interesting and touching than "[Character] did nothing wrong".
Keep the "[Character] did nothing wrong" jokes coming, though. They're often very funny. I especially love it when they're about characters who very obviously did many things wrong on purpose and aren't sorry about it in the slightest.
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opennwindows · 8 months
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If you can, could I request BEN Drowned fluff / smut headcanons like about himself, with his headcanon age, hobbies, facts, what he is into or would like & want in a relationship, and what he would be like with a gamer girlfriend/ s/o?
If ya taking requests rn still?✨😇😊💖
Ben Drowned general + NSFW hcs
A/N: yes!! absolutely. i love getting to talk about how the pastas do their pastaing in my mind. i have so many headcanons for everyone that im excited to share!! also sorry i forgot to include the gamer gf part but i don't think it would change a lot of what i wrote!!
btw sorry for fucking dying i have been busy 😭😭 but no one worry i will still continue to work on requests!! if anyone has any marble hornets stuff they wanna request i will zoom you to the front of the queue so fucking quick. anyways enough of me yapping.
cw: 18+ nsfw, toxic relationships, crying kink,
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GENERAL
ben is mentally and physically 22, but he can be quite emotionally immature at times. when he died he never stopped growing and maturing, his soul was just stuck in limbo. think like the worst waiting room ever.
he's surprisingly tall, standing at about 5'9. he's lanky but not bone thin. could easily get pretty far in a fight without his ghost powers.
the link costume only appears when he’s in his ghost form. so for example, when he’s messing with someone on their computer he’ll appear as the canon BEN we’re most familiar with. when he’s just chilling in his physical body, he mostly wears beat up hoodies and sweatpants.
contrary to popular belief, ben's not the hardcore gamer everyone thinks he is. sure, he'll play some overwatch or whatever when he's bored but he honestly just prefers to watch tv and browse the internet. understandably REFUSES to play any zelda games. if you were trapped in a video game for decades would you ever wanna touch it again? exactly.
ben loves to draw little comics and troll (see: horrifically traumatize) people online. god forbid you get into twitter beef with this man because he will crawl through your monitor at 3am and leave you with a crippling fear of technology. dude thinks it's absolutely hilarious. a true knee slapper.
lowkey has a sugar addiction. will slam down 4 cans of pepsi in one sitting. he's very lucky that he's basically a ghost because the kidney stones would be plentiful.
ROMANTIC
you know that guy with the blown out speakers in his car, lives off of energy drinks and burnt blue razz ice elfbars, swears aphex twin is the modern mozart and works on the grill at your local wendy’s? yeah thats ben. or at least would be him if he was still human.
“why would you need a chair, my lap is literally right here babe.”
would absolutely wear your skin if given the opportunity. not in a weird way. he’s just EXTREMELY touchy.
he needs someone who is significantly more organized and motivated than him. he can go almost a week without showering and it should honestly be considered biological warfare when he tries to smother you with affection during these episodes.
after awhile of you guys dating he LOVES the idea of y’all showering together. he has a fear of water and while showers aren’t too much of a trigger, your presence helps ease his anxiety.
favorite pet names: bro, dude, dawg, babe, bitch (non derogatory)
not really a romantic but he tries his best. a perfect date for him is just getting some takeout, watching youtube, talking about stupid shit and play fighting. if you want something more traditional or extravagant then he’ll oblige to make you happy but those types of dates make him feel quite suffocated and nervous. try to save those for special occasions.
now let’s talk about his problems because just like the other creeps he is ANGSTY.
he’s probably the most emotionally stable and healthiest of the group but he definitely still has his toxic traits, after all this man is a ghost that mentally tortures and kills his victims through manipulation.
ben would never ever get physical with his partner no matter how enraged he is but he absolutely is the type to do some mental damage when he gets carried away. ben drowned? more like ben gaslighted.
the type to say some shit that would keep you up for years and then kiss you the next morning like the argument never happened. he finds it easier to ignore problems than to actively talk and fix them. you’re gonna have to teach him some important communication skills or else you’ll grow to resent him after all the bottled up rage.
a bit too brutally honest and blunt for his own good so if you have thin skin the relationship would fall apart pretty quickly. he wants someone who can drag him twice as hard as he dragged you. bonus points if your insults are consistently funny as hell.
please watch anime with him and discuss it. he would propose on the spot, especially if you play with his hair.
pro player tip: if you want him to clean his disgusting room, help him and make it fun! he just needs a little push and motivation at times. and being around you makes him want to get his shit together.
big fan of late night make-out sessions. i’m talking like 45 minutes straight of just slobbering on each other’s faces with tongues down throats. if you don’t want his hands running over every inch of your body then you’ll probably have to chain him to the wall.
NSFW
okay. so he’s a little inexperienced with his hands. he’s just a slow learner. be vocal with him about what you like!!
ben's about 7inches and slightly skinnier than average but he will have you seeing stars in record time. the dick game is no joke. he tends to go fast and deep most times.
i can see him being a switch in the idgaf-as-long-as-i’m-fucking way. dude will go with the flow and will try mostly anything.
definitely one of the least aggressive pastas during sex. he has sadistic tendencies but he’s more of a edge/overstimulate you until you cry versus a beat the shit out of you and rip hair out of your scalp type. he’s pretty vanilla given his occupation.
despite his love of roasting the fuck out of you on a daily basis, the only words that come out of this man’s mouth is heavenly praise. he looks at you like you’re the most gorgeous being on the planet and he’ll let you know it.
he loves to whisper praises into your ear while you ride him.
he's more of a receiver than a giver when it comes to oral. he'll absolutely spend hours between your legs if given the chance but nothing beats the sight of you on your knees and teary eyed with his length in your mouth.
he can be a bit of a head pusher but just let him face-fuck you every now and then, hearing his loud moans will be worth it.
did i mention how much of a crying kink this man has? you guys could be on round three and if he stares at your teary eyed fucked-out face for longer than 10 seconds he'll immediately get hard again. you'll have to beg him to give your poor body a break.
he's also into choking but only if he's the one doing it. if you try to restrict his breathing he'll panic and the mood would get ruined.
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ossifer-bones · 8 months
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Liminal Physics 101 - What's wrong with the River?
I want to preface this theory/analysis by giving credit to the excellent, thought-provoking response left on my theory on the mechanism behind lyctoral thanergy generation by @greyhairedgeekgirl, because it inspired me to finally finish typing up this post.
There is a lot of conjecture contained within this theory but I've attempted to firmly root it in the terminology used by the characters in relation to the River, as well as how the River itself is described. My avenue of thought is closely related to that of @greyhairedgeekgirl, but I think my conclusion likely differs due to how I have chosen to interpret the definition of the River as a liminal space.
Anyway, onto the question I'm seeking to answer here: I feel that the answer to it lies in Harrow the Ninth, during the explanation we get in response to a question asked by John Gaius himself, and the veritably horrific implications of it.
“Harrowhark, what happens when somebody dies?”
“Thalergetic decay causes cellular death,” you said carefully, pressing the nail in harder, “which emits thanergy. The massive cell death that follows apopneumatism causes a thanergetic cascade, though the first bloom fades and the thanergy stabilises within thirty to sixty seconds.” “What happens to the soul?” “In the case of gradual death—senescence, illness … certain other forms—transition is automatic and straightforward. The soul is pulled into the River by liminal osmosis. In cases of apopneumatic shock, where death is sudden and violent, the energy burst can be sufficient to countermand osmotic pressure and leave the soul temporarily isolated. Whence we gain the ghost, and the revenant.”
Note how this explanation is structured in a sequential way that is likely deliberate:
We establish that thanergy is emitted by thalergetic decay: thalergy is characterised as life energy, produced by cell growth and reproduction. Thanergy is also said to be produced by cell death in the glossary of GtN, which to me indicates that the thalergy produced by a cell is in some way tied to it, beginning to decay into thanergy when the cell dies.
Massive cell death follows apopneumatism: the soul leaving the body results in mass cell death, resulting in the body's thalergy 'flipping' and rapidly decaying into thanergy.
Gradual death results in the soul being pulled into the River by liminal osmosis. Sudden and violent death results in a thanergetic energy burst sufficient to countermand (lit. revoke or cancel an order) osmotic pressure, leaving the soul temporarily isolated outside the River.
The soul leaves the body, the cellular thalergy begins to decay into thanergy in the absence of the soul, and the amount of thanergy produced results in the soul either being pulled into the River or being temporarily stranded.
River Terminology
liminal - occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold; relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process. This word is used in reference to the River a lot.
apopneumatism - apo meaning 'from, away from' and pneumatism referring to the pneuma, or soul; this is the process of the soul coming away from the body. put simply, this is death.
liminal osmosis - osmosis is 'the spontaneous net movement or diffusion of solvent molecules through a selectively-permeable membrane from a region of high water potential (region of lower solute concentration) to a region of low water potential (region of higher solute concentration)'; a solution is a solute dissolved in a solvent, meaning that osmosis is the process whereby a solution resolves the discrepancy in solute : solvent ratio between itself and another solution that are divided by a selectively-permeable membrane. imagine you have two bodies of water, of unequal volume, one with more solute in it than the other: osmosis will result in the body with more solute gaining water from the body with less solute until the ratio of water : solute is equivalent in each body. it equalises their concentration of solute.
osmotic pressure - 'the minimum pressure which needs to be applied to a solution to prevent the inward flow of its pure solvent across a semipermeable membrane', but it is also defined as 'the measure of the tendency of a solution to take in its pure solvent by osmosis'. this is to say that osmotic pressure can serve as the current that pulls a soul into the river, if you assume that the river is a solution and the soul is a solvent. Alternatively, one could also consider the River as the selectively-permeable membrane dividing two solutions.
What does this mean?
Assume the following:
The world is a solution, solute dissolved in a solvent, and the soul is the solvent in that solution.
The River is a selectively-permeable membrane.
The River beyond that Abigail Pent speaks of is another solution.
The soul (solvent) is pulled through the River (selectively-permeable membrane) by osmotic pressure into the solution with less solvent in (the River beyond), except it can't, because that semi-permeable membrane has been rendered impermeable: why?
Solute concentration.
What is the solute?
You collected bits of dried wood—dried wood?—and empty-coloured stones—stones?—from the banks of the River beyond death, and you collected armfuls of the sharply unkind osiers and tall, feathery plants, the ones with long fibrous stems as tall as you were and thin, tangled leaves. Filthy salt wind whipped your faces as you formed wards from the flotsam that grew, apparently, on the bank.
She stood before the coffin of the Sleeper, and gathered those white, soft, solid rips in her hands, and she popped the bubble, and the River came rushing in. It came down around her in shreds, as light and insubstantial as drifts of spiderweb. The water sprayed through white holes, rushing in with a pounding roar: that brackish, bloodied water that only existed within the River. She was buoyed up by a spray of ice water and filth.
The River is described as brackish, it is associated with salt wind. Brackish means water with higher than average salinity, saltwater concentration, so let's assume our solute is salt.
What did John do when he became God? He introduced a copious amount of thanergy into the system, because murders generate more thanergy, enough to make souls unable to pass into the river, and used it to fuel himself.
He murdered Alecto. The salt-water creature: the first thalergetic planet he flipped. The water is the solvent, the solvent is the soul, salt is our solute, salt-water is our solution.
I was so close to cracking this third thing, the soul. I’d realised there was the energy you produced from being alive and the energy you produced when you died, but the fact that energy was produced when you died meant there was another phase. I could get a corpse’s heart beating and get all the neurons firing in the brain, but it wasn’t producing the alive stuff anymore. It wasn’t an on-off switch.
“The body needs thalergy and a soul to keep the lights on. Anastasia’s tripod principle. Body plus thalergy, but no soul, is basically a very weird vegetable … after a while it gives up and shuts down.”
Nona the Ninth shows exactly what the soul is: the third thing, the on-off switch, the leg of the tripod. A body full of thalergy without a soul shuts down after a while because the thalergy isn't stable in the absence of a soul, and decays in its absence. Thalergy decay emits thanergy.
Thalergy is salt, water is the solvent, water is the soul, salt-water is the solution of a living creature: thalergy stabilised by a soul.
How does salt affect water?
A river is freshwater: it doesn't have high salinity. It is not salt-water.
What does salt do to water? It adds to its mass, makes it more buoyant. Buoyancy, or upthrust, is an upward force exerted by a fluid that opposes the weight of a partially or fully immersed object.
The Riverbed is studded with mouths that open at proximity of Resurrection Beasts, and no ghosts venture deeper than the bathyrhoic layer. Anyone who has entered a stoma has never returned. It is a portal to the place I cannot touch—somewhere I don’t fully comprehend, where my power and my authority are utterly meaningless. You’ll find very few ghosts sink as far as the barathron.
Ghosts don't venture near the Riverbed. The Riverbed is studded with stoma. The stoma are mouths that open when Resurrection Beasts near them, and the Resurrection Beasts are the souls of murdered planets, the only souls that can sink that low; the stoma lead to a place John can't touch.
[...]“And that was a titanic effort on the part of Cassiopeia the First, who was brilliant and sensible and careful—she thought she could bait physical portions of the Resurrection Beast into the current. She was right. It followed her.”
They were writhing together, wild and excited—the current swirled in an agitated pandemonium—there was a massive sickening jolt, and the Mithraeum started to slide again, forward … tilting … sliding. “We’re in the current now,” said Pyrrha calmly. “We’ll be pulled in, if the mouth doesn’t close.”
The current of the River leads to the stoma. The River is a semi-permeable membrane that leads to the River beyond, and the stoma are mouths in the Riverbed that lead to a place beyond the power of John. Osmosis pulls solvent, souls, through the membrane into the neighbouring solution.
Conclusion
You went en masse into the River, leaving your bodies behind to slump into C-curves—or at least, yours did, the rest of them stood—and crunched the silvery sand of the bank beneath your feet as the three saints led you both to assemble wards. No blood or flesh or bone here: the first two might be scavenged, the last swept away by the capricious tide. You collected bits of dried wood—dried wood?—and empty-coloured stones—stones?—from the banks of the River beyond death, and you collected armfuls of the sharply unkind osiers and tall, feathery plants, the ones with long fibrous stems as tall as you were and thin, tangled leaves.
The River holds no blood, flesh, or bone. But its waters are made brackish by a kind of salt: the thanergy of murdered billions. How can one make a ward from something unthanergetic, from dried wood and stones? It's impossible, unless they are suffused with thanergy, made pliable to a lyctoral touch.
When John murdered the planets and humanity in one fell stroke, he flooded with the River with enough thanergy that its buoyancy countermanded the osmotic process that draws souls into the River beyond. The River is full of ghosts gone mad: souls that should have moved beyond, but can't, because the current cannot carry them through the stoma, the thanergy working against its pull.
“A powerful necromancer at the peak of their game could last ten seconds in the River,” said God, pushing himself up to stand. “Soul magic is the great leveller. In the first few seconds their thanergy would all be stripped away … then their thalergy, and then their soul.”
The River strips away thanergy and thalergy, but it can only do so much: when its waters are already so permeated with thanergy, souls float, fail to sink to the depths and pass through it, carried by its current. They cannot reach the stoma because their souls are too light compared to that of the Resurrection Beasts, the thanergetic buoyancy pushing them back up.
What lies beyond the stoma isn't Hell, or rather, it is Hell: it is a place where John Gaius can't touch. It is where souls are meant to go. It is the River Beyond.
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feralnightwing · 3 months
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the only show where i am okay with fanon completely overshadowing (lol) canon is danny phantom. like we took this at best pg-13 cartoon about a ghost boy and his adventures and turned it into a horrifying story of tragedy and pain.
the portal accident? let's expand on that: he was electrocuted to death and had a portal to another dimension open on him. the agony he felt as he died is something horrific and unforgettable.
his parents are ghost hunters that hunt his ghost half haha! no. his parents are ghost hunters that are hunting their dead-is-he-dead-is-he-alive? child. they want to capture him for study. danny is constantly living in fear of parents because they want to "tear him apart, molecule by molecule." he is afraid of his parents discovering his secret: would it be better if they didn't know he was their son as they vivisect him? or knowing and doing it anyway?
14 year old superhero! boom pow he punches bad ghosts! so fun! wrong. he is a 14 year old atlas, stuck underneath the weight of protecting his home and the people in it. there are people who hate him, but it's okay because... because. he fends off anyone and anything that tries to harm those under his protection at the cost of himself. it hurts and he hurts but what else can he do? he gives up on his dreams of seeing the stars as phantom takes him away from school, so can continue fighting and keep people (except himself) unharmed.
the giw are so funny because they're so incompetent. but what if they weren't? what if they managed to catch him? what if fenton goes missing and phantom is never seen again? stuck in a tiny cell; he's not human. he is lesser and thus it's okay to tear him apart and put him back together over and over again. he is a shell of himself, truly dead despite being alive.
i could go on and on and on. my point stands: this fandom has developed something so intricate from a cartoon that would've otherwise been lost to time. we saw ideas and concepts that could be fleshed out into a truly engaging and gruesome story and did it! that's crazy!
this show by itself wouldn't be anything great, but fanon just made it so much better (by A Lot). danny phantom fanon is better than canon, and that's the truth
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ann1-wr1tes · 4 months
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You Came?...You called.
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Synopsis: You find yourself falling into the horrors of your job, but come to find out that you don't have to be alone.
Warnings: Slight angst, crying, hurt and comfort
Word Count: 2,642
A/N: Okay, so if you've seen this fic before, it's because I posted this on my previous account. I didn't plagiarize or steal anyone's work. I just have all of this saved and I plan on posting the other fics I have. Anyways hope ya'll enjoy!
Part two
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You felt pathetic as your quivering voice spoke into the phone. You couldn't stop the steady shaking in your hands as you try your best to sound normal. You didn't want him of all people to hear you like this. In fact you weren't even sure why you had called. Not that it mattered. The call went to voicemail anyways so it's not like he'd even show up.
"I..I don't know what I'm doing right now, honestly. I shouldn't have called so uhhh sorry for....for bothering you." you rasp out. Then quickly, with a shaky finger you hang up the phone and drop it in your lap.
You cover your face in your hands as you try to take deep breaths. For some reason though, taking in air seemed harder than it once was. It almost felt like your lungs were being crushed by some invisible force as you felt your heart beat speed up to a million miles a minute. You were having a panic attack and for good reason too.
Everyone had told you that being an agent was far from easy. The D.S.O was an agency that was dedicated to stopping bio-terrorism. The people working under the agency were always seen as intimidating, competent, and effective in whatever their job was. The agents were also a force to be reckoned with. After all you had to go through hell just to be considered a candidate for becoming a D.S.O agent. Little did you know that actually being an agent was a whole new type of hell.
The job was a test to not just your physical health, but also your mental health. It was stressful and draining. You always had to be on alert and sometimes on the run during missions. It felt like it never ended. But the last mission you went on was a disaster. Actually describing it as a disaster was an understatement. It could better be described as a tragedy.
You were thrown into Russia. You and your partner were tasked with investigating a certain lab that was suspected to have some sort of vaccine that was turning people into B.O.W's so of course it was dangerous and risky.
Your partner that you went with was actually a good friend of yours. Maybe that was the first mistake. You can still remember the look of horror that played out on your partners face as she got shot with an injection of some sort. You took out the person who injected her with the infectious syringe, but it was too late. The injection had already started to wreak havoc on her body and there was no cure.
You still remember how she pleaded and begged you to kill her before whatever she got infected with could run its course. But you wanted to believe that you could save her. That was your second mistake.
In the end she shifted into this mutated, horrific, B.O.W and you almost died. At the last second you finally killed her but not before you hesitated and tried to convince yourself that there was still some way that you could save her. You eventually learned that it was over though and you had to stop her before she could infect you.
When you returned to the D.S.O, you came back with no partner, many injuries, and a few samples of the vaccine that you were supposed to get. The mission was successful but now you were starting to wonder at what cost? Was it really worth it?
You remember the first day back. You felt like a zombie. Your body was numb, you couldn't feel the numerous injuries you had gotten but you could feel how heavy everything felt. It felt like there was lead in your shoes as you walked down the bright hallways and you felt like you could collapse at any moment. Then you saw him.
Leon Kennedy.
Looking handsome as ever. Right when he saw you he was already on his feet, bounding towards you in a few wide strides and he had a hand on your cheek. You numbly watched as his bright blue eyes darted back and forth across your face.
You did look like hell to be fair.
Then when he asked if you were okay, you pushed him away and kept walking. In the moment you just wanted to leave and go home. You felt like if you told Leon about what happened right then and there you'd either pass out, cry, or scream but now looking back on it you felt like an asshole. You remembered the softness in Leon's eyes as he looked at you, his lips slightly parted as he took in your disheveled appearance. You even remembered how gently he grazed his hand against your cheek.
Why were you such an asshole?
After that you went home, took a shower and slept. You actually were quite sure that you had slept for a few days straight. The only time you went out was when you attended your friends funeral and that was horrific in itself. Then the nightmares began and it became impossible to close your eyes for more than a minute. You'd immediately have flashes of images and memories in your head from the mission. It was like torture.
So now you sat there. One in the morning. Your body heavy and slumped over as your phone sat in your lap and you looked down at it. When the screen turned black you could see your reflection looking back at you.
Your face was paler than usual, your eyebags had eyebags and your eyes were slightly glazed over as you looked at someone who you didn't seem to recognize. You seemed to be a shell of yourself as you sat there on the edge of your bed in the dark. Your legs limply dangled off the edge and you could feel tears start to build in your eyes. You didn't even notice until a tear slipped down your cheek.
So this was what it was to be an agent. Fun stuff.
Maybe you should've listened to all those who warned you. You were stubborn, determined, you always knew what you wanted. So when everyone warned you about the dangers of being an agent you shrugged it all off.
Even when Leon was your mentor and he took the time to train you, he too was one person who tried to warn you about the dangers of being an agent. At first you were offended. You thought that he was telling you all this because he thought you were incapable or weren't fit to be an agent. It turns out that wasn't true at all.
Leon was endeared by you from the moment he laid his eyes on you. You were bright and full of life. You were always willing to do whatever it took to please him, whether that be in training or missions and then he got to watch you evolve into your own person.
But now as you sit in the dark by yourself, tears streaming down your cheeks in a silent show of the pain going on inside, you were starting to wonder how you'd ever be able to live like this.
Knock knock knock
You practically jump out of your skin with a soft cry. Almost on instinct your hands fly to your bedside table and you pull out your gun that you keep handy. You've been far too paranoid lately not to have it around so you grip the gun in your hands as you walk through your apartment.
You turn on a lamp for some much needed light and with a deep breath you open the door a crack and peek through the small opening.
"Who is it?" you hiss through the door.
Suddenly you catch the sight of a leather jacket and bright blue eyes.
"Mind opening the door?"
Your heart speeds up and you can feel your cheeks grow warm as you hear the husky voice of Leon. His voice sounded like honey and god did it send chills down your spine sometimes but right now you were shocked that he was even here.
You open the door fully this time and stare for a moment. God why was he so beautiful. Sure he looked a little aged and a tad bit on the tired side but he was still beautiful. It was just the way his hair perfectly fell over his face and how he had a chiseled jaw that was paired with some light stubble and his eyes. Oh, you wouldn't even get started on his eyes.
Though you soon realize that right now isn't the time to be staring at Leon. He gives you a look and you sigh and rub your eyes tiredly.
"You came?" you say, almost as if you were in disbelief.
"You called." Leon responds simply.
He watches as you stare at him for a moment more. This time you just look tired. You look him up and down. A small pout in your lips as your tired eyes practically drooped. With that a sigh you step aside and you let him walk into your wreck of an apartment. You shut the door behind you and carelessly plop your gun down on your counter.
"Ignore the mess. It's been a long week." you mutter as you sit down on your couch. Leon's gaze follows you as you stumble onto the couch and you almost seem to collapse into yourself.
He sits down next to you and you can still feel his eyes on you. You almost love it and hate it at the same time. You loved it because his attention was on you, as pathetic as that sounded you always knew that you seek out validation and attention from Leon. Even if you didn't want to admit the fact to yourself. But you also despised that he was looking at you right now. You knew how pathetic you must've seemed to him. You sat next to him, you hadn't showered in a day or two, your hair was a straggly, stringy mess, the sweatpants and tank top you had on were wrinkled and probably needed a good wash. It almost made you want to beg him to not look at you at all.
"So do you want to talk about it?" Leon asks, his voice came out soft. Almost like a whisper but loud enough to be heard out in the air. It was unlike his usual sarcastic tone that he always responded to you with when you both were together on a normal day.
"Talk about what?" you asked simply. You knew what he was alluding to. The day you came back to the report on the mission. The moment he saw how miserable you looked, in fact you looked more than miserable. Leon was all too familiar with that look. It was a look of fatigue and loss. Like all the innocence and naivety that you once possessed was drained out of you by the time your mission was done. It was a deep look within your eyes that showed all the horrible things you had seen, that you did, that you had to deal with and survive through. Leon knew about it all. He had gone through it all and he remembers the exact moment that it all came crashing down on him like it had on you now. It was Spain. Spain had always haunted him. It was almost like he never left that hellish place since he always seemed to be trapped there in his dreams and it was always something in the back of his mind.
"You called me for a reason." Leon says, trying to look you in the eye. You refused to look at him though. You turned your head downwards to look at your hands. You watched as you fidgeted with your fingernails and still felt Leon's stone gaze on you.
"I don't know why I called you. It was a mistake. I shouldn't have." You utter.
There's a moment of silence and suddenly Leon's hand comes into view as he reaches out and grabs one of your own. It effectively grabs your attention and you look up at him as he grips your hand in his. He starts to softly rub circles into the back of your hand as you look at him, being slightly startled.
"It wasn't a mistake. You can talk to me, sweetheart." he coos.
Fuck. You almost want to melt with how the pet name rolls off his tongue or how he looks at you with all his undivided attention.
Your mouth opens and closes. You go to speak but no words come out. Your mouth goes dry and a choked sound leaves your throat.
"There's...nothing to talk about." you meekly say.
That's when the first tear fell from your eye. Then another and another. Then suddenly you were shaking. Your lungs were burning, your chest ached, your lips trembled. In a pathetic attempt to stop Leon from seeing this sudden emotional display, your free hand goes to cover your face as a sob leaves your throat.
Before you knew it a pair of arms lifts you up and you are pulled into Leon's lap. Your face buried in his neck and his one hand softly combed through your tangled hair as the other hand was tracing circles in your back.
"I know...I know it hurts. Let it out sweetheart." Leon mutters into your hair.
Its like the world crashes around you as you let out sobs and cries. You clutch onto Leon like he's a life line, like he's the only thing grounding you right now. Which may actually be the case as he continues to stroke your hair, rub your back. You even feel a few kisses being pressed to the crown of your head as he talks you through it all.
Even when your breathing starts to become more shallow and it feels like you're suffocating Leon is still there, being calm and grounding you.
"I know it's hard but just breathe for me baby. You can do that can't you?" he softly asks as both hands cup your cheeks so he can fully look at you.
You weakly nod as ragged, choked breaths come in and out of your mouth. You start to feel dizzy but Leon keeps his hands on your cheeks and continues to talk.
"Okay take a deep breath in..." Leon deeply inhales, waiting for you to do the same. You deeply inhale and then watch as Leon slowly exhales. You slowly exhale. He deeply inhales again and you do the same. Then you both exhale and repeat.
"Good girl, that's it. Just breathe." Leon encourages you, still rubbing your cheeks gently. Soon enough your breaths begin to even out as Leon continues to run his thumbs along your cheek bones, soothing you in the process. He especially makes sure to wipe the tears that are still streaming down your cheeks.
As you continue to cry you notice him lean closer and press his forehead against yours and his hands slowly leave your cheeks until they rest on either side of your head.
"I know its hard. Trust me. But I promise you i'll be here, if you allow me to be." Leon whispers as he stares into your eyes.The silence hangs between the both of you, thick and tense, heavy with emotions. Leon pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you as tight as possible.
You almost feel like a child as you grasp onto him. You're still a little teary eyed and weary.
"Will you stay with me...please..." you mutter.
His arms tighten around you a bit more and a slight smile comes to his face. "Of course sweetheart."
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foli-vora · 6 months
Text
the sun will shine again
joel miller x f!reader
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A/N: just a little self indulgent something I wrote for comfort when I needed it, but maybe it can be a little reassuring hug for someone here as well? If you're struggling, please reach out to your local helplines, friends, family, doctors, teachers, coworkers - you're worthy of your existence on this planet, and you're not alone ❤️
Word count: 2k
Warnings: heavy themes. Depression, thoughts of suicide and intent, mentions of a weapon (gun), Joel struggles with feelings but he gets the message across, Ellie is Ellie with a little needed comic relief, hurt & much needed comfort
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You don't want it anymore. Any of it. You just want peace. You want to be able to wake without the lingering presence of something heavy weighing down on your heart, your soul. You want to be able to smile, and feel it curl on your lips knowing it's nothing but true, and it's not there hiding the ugly thoughts and feelings stirring in your mind. You just want to be happy.
Is that even possible? Does happiness even exist anymore? The world had been torn apart long ago - there is very little to smile for now. Maybe it wasn't worth the effort. Maybe this is all there is.
No.
No, this isn't all of it.
You're sure you feel happiness, even if it doesn't manage to make it across your features most of the time. You feel the tender warmth of it in your chest, the blissful ease of the never ending pressure threatening to crush you under its weight.
It happens now, despite the horrific events that seem to follow your footsteps. Ellie's a sweet thing. She hides it behind her stubbornness and sarcasm, but you spy a slight comfort building within her as time rolls on—a peace.
Joel mirrors it, and he fights it - God does he fight it. Of course you know why he keeps her at arms length, why he desperately fights to keep that void present, but lately, it's wavered. He smiles, laughs even. It's beautiful to witness. He deserves it all and so much more.
You on the other hand? The shadows have seemingly only grown outside of the QZ despite being free, creeping along and filling every vacant space in your mind. It's so damn heavy. Something's there, a presence that seems to know exactly when to strike with its poisonous words, and it's not long until a part of you starts to believe them.
You don't belong here. You don't deserve them. You don't deserve this. You should've died long ago. Why are you still here? They would be better off without you.
It's those thoughts that have you here now, staring numbly at the sun beginning to shine over the horizon with a weight in your hands. There's a harsh chill in the air that bites at your skin through your thick, tattered long sleeve, but you don't care. You won't be here when the snow eventually hits.
You had left your jacket draped over a sleeping Ellie, her cheeks and nose tinged pink from the low temperature. It wouldn't go to waste - she'll get a lot of use out of it. Your pack you'd left in its spot beside Joel's - he'll take whatever they need before they move off. You have nothing else of worth.
They'll be better off. You don't belong here. You don't belong anywhere. Everyone will be better off.
Your gaze drops to your hands where they cradle the handgun, the steel barrel now warm from your touch. You only have one bullet - you left the rest behind. You wouldn't need them, anyway. Joel'll get a use out of them. They'll both be safe.
Safer without you. Better without you.
So why can’t you do it? Why can’t you just get it over with? Why are you hesitating?
The last few months roll through your mind. Blurs of memories, of you and Joel, of you and Ellie, each one rolling through your mind and bringing that sweetly craved warmth back to your chest. You know why you’re hesitating.
It’s a battle between love and darkness, and you hate that the darkness is winning. You’re weak.
They deserve more than you.
“Watching the sunrise?"
The unexpected but familiar gravel has you jumping about a mile high out of your skin. Your head whips to where Joel is approaching quietly from behind, and you discreetly tuck the gun into the waistband of your jeans as you nod, forcing a strained curl of your lips.
"It's a nice view," he continues quietly, voice still roughened from the few hours of sleep he managed to get. "I wasn't expectin' you to be gone so long."
He had been resting when you left the little campsite, eyes closed and merely grunting in reply when you mentioned needing a bit of privacy. How long had it been since you left? How long had you been dragging your feet in carrying this shit out?
"I got distracted," you explain weakly, shifting slightly over on the unforgiving boulder you sit on so he can rest on it beside you, "sorry."
He notices your clear lack of jacket.
"You cold?"
"No," you lie.
He's watching you, studying you. You can feel it. You keep your eye on the horizon, taking in the pastel mix of blues and oranges stretching across the sky as the sun starts to rise further above the landscape in an effort to escape his scrutiny.
"You needin' these?"
Glancing towards him, you watch as he sticks his hand down the front pocket of his jeans before holding it out to you, noting the bullets rolling around his palm. Your bullets. There's something hanging in his gaze as it remains heavily fixed on you. Maybe a slight edge of suspicion? Challenge?
You don't manage to hold it long enough to find out.
"Uh, not that I know of. I think I'm good."
He makes a low noise of thought, "Alright. Well, why don't you let me check. Better to be safe than sorry, right?"
"Joel—"
"Come on."
The cold's long seeped into your bones now. You weren't meant to take this long. Another thing you can't do right. Moving takes a small bit of effort, your fingers now numb as they struggle to keep a firm grip on the weapon and pass it over.
Joel swiftly pops open the cylinder once he has the gun in hand, taking a long, quiet moment to examine the one single bullet residing in there. His thumb briefly brushes over the top surface of it, before readying the other bullets in between the grasp of his fingers.
"Not gettin' far with only one," he comments dryly, nimbly filling the cylinder and then flicking it shut with a noticeable click.
He doesn't give it back to you.
Instead, he reaches behind his back and tucks the gun down the waistband of his jeans beside his own, before fixing his jacket above them. He sighs, a deep heave of breath that blows out from his lips with a wispy cloud that carries away with the breeze as he seems to lose himself in thought.
You say nothing. There's nothing for you to say.
"Don't you ever," he starts thickly, voice cutting suddenly through the quiet, "think about doin' that again, you hear me?"
"Do what?"
You feign ignorance.
Whether it's because you don't want to acknowledge your earlier thoughts, or Joel to know about any of it, you don't know. It's silly—he would've found you eventually anyway. Maybe you're just a coward and don't want to face the reality of what he would think of you.
"Don't play with me—not about this.”
An apology sits on your tongue, but it doesn't make it past your lips. You should've known better than to play him as the fool. Joel's anything but stupid. He probably saw through you the instant he laid eyes on you sitting in the cold morning light without a jacket.
“I don’t say it, and maybe I should start, but I can’t lose you,” he rasps, deep brown eyes falling away from your face to follow the soft swirls of the clouds, “I can’t. And I know that’s selfish of me to say, I know it’s not what I should say when you’re feelin’ like this, but—Jesus. Ellie wants you here, needs you here. I need you here, and I know you’re carryin’ a lot in that head of yours but—I just... I’m here for you, alright?”
“Joel—”
“Quiet.”
Your mouth snaps shut immediately.
“I know it’s a lot, and I know it hurts—believe me honey, I know it fuckin’ hurts, and you’re tired and the other side just seems so damn good… but it’s not. It’s not. You… you can’t do that. God, you just can’t.”
The wind chills the hot tears that spill down your cheeks until they feel like ice. He looks at you then, as if sensing the heart ache making wet paths along your skin.
You’re weak.
His hands are hot as they cradle your face carefully, roughened calloused palms covering your cheeks and soothing away the agony filled droplets with a quick brush of his thumbs.
You can’t help but turn into the touch, your own hands coming to wind around his wrists in an effort to keep him close. He’s so warm. You let out the lungful of oxygen you’d been holding onto in your worry, watching the fog of it hang between your faces before fading away.
“I don’t know what to do, Joel,” you admit in a choked whisper, eyes dropping from something close to shame, “My head… I-I don’t know how to fix this—”
His hands press tighter against your cheeks as he angles and holds your face until your eyes are flicking up to meet his. Sincerity fills them, mixing with the ever present concern he hides behind those high almost impenetrable walls. It’s hard to focus on anything but him.
“It’s gonna take time, and it’s gonna be damn hard, but I want you to put it on me, understand? Put it all on me. I’ll carry what you’re strugglin’ with, alright? Hell, I’ll carry you. For as long as I need to. For the rest of my—fuck. Just—just let me help you. Please.”
He wants to do that? For you?
“What if it’s too much?”
“Then we’ll handle it together, like we’ve handled shit hundreds of times before.”
A few more moments of searching his eyes and you’re breathing a quiet okay. The heaviness still rests unforgivingly on your mind, but maybe you won’t struggle so much if someone was there to help you carry the load. Maybe, with time, it would get lighter.
That’s what you could fight for—the days where it won’t hold you down, and threaten to break you completely. The days where, maybe, it won’t be there anymore. Is that even a possibility? It doesn’t matter, you think you’re willing to find out.
His own eyes flicker between yours when your voice reaches his ears, before he gives a slight, barley there nod. His throat bobs with a swallow and then he’s resting his forehead against yours in apparent relief, lashes brushing his cheeks as his eyes flutter closed.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t ever need to be.”
“I fucking knew you guys were a thing.”
Ellie’s voice suddenly picks up from the tree line, her heavy feet trudging through the dense forest floor with the crunch of leaves and the snap of branches. Joel’s hands drop as he pulls away with a slight frown, levelling it on the girl making her way over, but it doesn’t seem to deter her in the slightest.
Despite missing the physical reassurance from Joel, you welcome the change Ellie unknowingly brings to the heavy atmosphere. You even manage a small smile, and it doesn’t feel strange as it stretches along your lips. There it is again—that lovely warmth from within you.
This is it. This is what you want, what you have. It’s just buried most of the time, but—but it’s definitely there. You weren’t imagining it. It’s there.
You’ll fight for it. You’ll fight for her, for Joel. You’ll fight for your peace.
“You didn’t need to hide it for so long—I’m not fucking stupid. I appreciate the jacket, by the way, but I don’t need you turning into an ice block on me,” she says, dumping your warm jacket over your shoulders before moving to your side and looking out towards the sunrise. “Holy shit, look at that view.”
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goldsbitch · 4 months
Text
I gave so many signs
summary: First unrequited love is not the one to ever leave your mind. Y/N looks back at her missed connection with Charles Leclerc from the time they were just teenagers and regrets having him slip away.
song fic (disclaimer: rights belong to the respectable owners)
exile - Taylor Swift Lie to me - 5 Seconds of Summer (feat. Julia Michaels) Worst of you - Maisie Peters
warning: Present time, the past
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Coming back home to Monaco always brought a sour smile to her face. She loved growing up in this strange small town where everyone knew each other and celebrities came to show off and then went back to wherever, to tell stories of Monte Carlo.
They say that you get to experience three very different real loves in your lifetime - and only if you're lucky, it would be with the same person. Her first love was Charles Leclerc.
I saw you lookin' brand new overnight I caught you lookin' too, but you didn't look twice
Visiting family was the reason why she always came back, but going out with the few girls from high school who stayed there was a treat she dared not to miss. There is just something about hanging out with those people who helped one buy the first eyeshadow and with whom she pregamed at one of their step dad's dermatology office before going on trying to get into any club that would allow minors in. So there she was once again, at the old time spot, having a harder time to hold her alcohol since she'd passed the magic non hangover years. And to her luck, he walked in only a bare half an hour later than her.
Whenever she saw him, even after those years, it was like everyone else had dissapeared from the room. He seemed to age like wine.
It's 3 AM and the moonlight's testing me I know that you've been holding on to someone else And now I can't sleep
"Come here to me," she teased, moving closer to him. He tried to stop her and playfully pushed himself the furthest away possible the couch would allow. "Charlie, let me see!" she insisted and sat on top of him. She had to act quickly, there would be no way for her to keep the upper hand. He was just turning eighteen soon and the time in gym was starting to bring back results. "I do not have any hairline, Y/N," he gasped, annoyed. His tone changed. Back then she interpreted it as just him being done with her shit. Looking at it now, there probably was a different reason why he became more stiff. She sat on him, going through his hair and taking few photos, blissfully unaware. "I'll show this to you in a few years and we'll see! Ha!" Charles eyes were shooting arrows in her direction. She looked back at him, curious and not grasping the moment in the same way as he did. "What?" she asked simply. "Nothing..."
I can see you standing, honey With his arms around your body Laughin', but the joke's not funny at all
She laughed a bit at that memory as she sipped her drink and tried her best to avoid keeping looking back at him as he sat with his current friends and an absolute gorgeous girl laughing at his joke. She knew who she was. Sometimes she peaked at his socials and then blocked him again right away. She certainly knew he had her blocked.
They went to different schools and Charles had his racing activities anyway. So they'd spent a lot of time texting. A lot.
It was just one of the horrifically long school days where she doubted the point of her existence. Life had to be more than sitting in a pointless computer science class. She wanted to be a big lawyer girl boss one day, so why would she ever care about programming. There she was, staring at the assignment from the teacher who was stuck in 20th century anyway, having little to no clue what to do. As she'd usually do, she texted Charles. Bombed him with twenty texts demanding attention, before he finally responded. "OMG i thought someone had died" "i am dying charles" "no your not" "*you're" "i can go back to my race simulator if you keep being a little shit" "nooo, please dont go. you're my only hope. sorry, your. i get it, you got out of the school too early." "that's it, i'm gone" "noo, please stay, I'll be nice and say nice things about you" "i'm staying, go on" "you are absolutely gorgeous" "yes, agree. more" "you are soo funny, amazing, future heart breaker and your passion for racing is so inspiring" "i like this. more"
Second, third, and hundredth chances Balancin' on breaking branches Those eyes add insult to injury
They were inseparable, yet nobody knew. Always meeting alone, because they did not need anyone and their social circles didn't really meet together. Whenever he was back in town, the two of them would hit up their favorite café or hang out at his house and then go for a walk. The two of them walked around Monte Carlo as if they were suppose to be the cartographers creating the first map of that area ever. Those were the good old days that came to end very unexpectedly.
We always walked a very thin line You didn't even hear me out (Didn't even hear me out) You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)
His hands were shaking when he sent the email. But he just could not take it anymore. He was over the moon in love with her and didn't know how to contain it.
"there is no easy way to say this. i love you. sorry. i'm stupid and i know we're just friends. but i basically live only for racing and seeing you. i'm terrified of seeing you with someone else. if there is at least a cell in your body that feels the same, please let's meet up and talk about it. if not, do not reply and i will never mention this again and deal with it. i love you."
She was seventeen when she got his message out of the blue. A scared little girl who was petrified of feelings and anything relationship related. So she never replied to his email.
All this time I never learned to read your mind I couldn't turn things around (I couldn't turn things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (You never gave a warning sign)
Charles had a very little hope that she'd feel the same - why would she, such an amazing person, kind, fun and totally glorified in his eyes, so he could not even imagine him being worthy of her. But what if? What if he was enough? With every day when she did not respond to his email, his heart sank lower. Still, the pain of the first rejection is a hard one to take, because it's usually from a scared unexperienced heart to another and the clumsiness causes great deal of accidental collateral damage one remembers until the end of their life.
You're not my homeland anymore So what am I defending now? You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out
She texted him from school few days after that - a normal text, as if nothing happened. Both of them were too chicken to address the situation openly. So he opted for buring his feeling and she for playing like she had no idea. Deep down, she always knew, even before he emailed her. They texted, continued to meet up. But it was never the same again.
Flashing back to New York City I was done, but you undid me Classic me to run when it feels right
It was hard to get closure for her. After all that had happened and the mess the two made for each other was a hard lesson she remembered vividly. She glanced at your first love again - and finally she met his look, after almost two years of managing to missing each other while they were both back in Monaco. She'd daydreamed about bumping into him, the two chatting and smiling again. The world stopped again for few moments. He shot her an unsure quick half smile that said it all. She knew him too well for that.
And now I wish we never met 'Cause you're too hard to forget While I'm cleaning up your mess I know he's taking off your dress
It was her prom night and she could not be more excited. All her friends were here, family, even Charles managed to get in town to watch her dance and drink all night. She had the night of her life, perfect end to end this chapter of life. The excitement her eyes held was contagious. She spent the first half of her evening with the family and Charles, sharing few dances and laughs. If felt like the good old days. But one shot of tequila led to another and there she was, drunk as pirate and unhinged like a teenage girl. Charles did his best to keep her parents at bay, keep them occupied while he got one of his friends to take care of her. He was worried she might do something stupid, like walk up to the stage and fall down breaking all of her bones. Finally, her parents decided to leave without having to saying goodbye to her after Charles spent a good half an hour convincing them she was just in the back stage and that he'd get her home safe. When they were gone, he began to search for her, only to finally find her sitting on the stairs, making out with the friend he assigned to keep an eye on her.
So take me to every party and just talk to your friends Why don't you let me down, I'll let you do it again Go on and walk all over me, just don't walk away Give me the worst of you 'Cause I want you anyway
It was like being cut open alive and having people watch. There was nothing even remotely graceful about her actions, she was literally sitting on the floor having a battle of tongues with another drunk teenager while people had to walk pass her. It was embarrassing. Charles didn't know what to do. He wanted to run away and never come back, but he couldn't leave her there alone. He couldn't bring himself to stop the two of his friends, because he was just too sad and heartbroken to do so. He just stayed nearby and kept an eye on them. It was one of the longest nights in his life.
She couldn't remember the second half of her prom night and Charles would never speak of it, even though she begged him many times. He always became stiff and started to leave the room. She only kept asking, because it marked one of the biggest shifts in their friendships. He became cold, unresponsive and after few weeks, he stopped communicating completely.
You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out I think I've seen this film before
Funny how people's faces change with years, but the eyes stay the same. The eyes and the look. Charles looked at her the second time this evening. It was like staring back at the eighteen year old boy who was drowning in his feeling.
It was one of her last nights in Monaco before leaving for university. Finally, her dreams were coming true. She was more than ready to get our to show the world she was a force to be reckoned with. She sent Charles countless messages before her final departure, at that moment, she was sure she'll never ever get back to Monaco and wanted to at least understand why he became distant. One evening, he finally agreed to meet up and talk. She was over the moon. Knowing that she could always turn Charles over, she left feeling confident - he was one the very few people she was sure shared the same soul as her. It was as if they'd never stopped talking. Jokes flying everywhere, the two of them strolling around, having no idea this would be the last time (and maybe, that was better for her at the time). There was so much to share, the two kept talking over each other for hours. Charles was happy when she finally stopped to take a breath for a moment. She looked him in the eye and saw a look she'd seen countless of times on his face. There was a shift in her mind and out of nowhere, she was kissing the boy she'd been unknowingly in love for years. She'd realize that she loved him only once she started dating a random guy from her college, expecting the same feeling Charles gave her. But it never came. Had she known, she'd have stayed with him. He tried to convince her to start dating him. Almost begged her to try it with him long distance. But there was a whole world for you to discover, places to be and versions of her that needed discovering. She had kissed only once. But it was a kiss of a lifetime. He blocked her on all socials after she rejected him again.
I never learned to read your mind (Never learned to read my mind) I couldn't turn things around (You never turned things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs) So many signs, so many signs You didn't even see the signs
The girls were laughing at some joke she missed while digging in her memory for traces of her first love. Charles Leclerc. He was sitting few tables away from her. This time, her heart sank as he kissed his girlfriend on the cheek as they walked away from the bar. She wanted to run to him, to talk to him again after all those years. To tell him the same thing he once emailed her. To explain that she was just too young to notice she had the love of her life right next to you. But she knew all too well what his answer would be. And just like he had back then, she never wanted to hear it out loud.
And I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me
part 2
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companion-showdown · 4 months
Text
Who is your favourite companion?
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TOURNAMENT MASTERPOST
propaganda under the cut
Martha Jones
the doctor to ten's mentally unstable bus driver of all time. every day she clocks into the horrors bc she absolutely will not let this stupid alien get himself killed no matter how terrible he is to be around. it's rotten work not to me not if it's you but evil. she is quite literally bound to the doctor by their shared senses of self-sacrifice—in their first episode the way they prove themselves to the other by laying down their lives for the people in the hospital and this informs their entire insanity dynamic going forward. she is the first companion of nuwho to walk away from the doctor bc she realizes she cannot keep saving this unsaveable person who keeps refusing help and she has to stop and prioritize herself and the people she can save (her family)—and, yet, she still becomes the most like the doctor than any other ten era companion. anyway rtd bring her back for fifteen era and treat her better or i'll beat you to death w hammers (@aq2003 )
Bill Potts
have you ever died horrifically but came back (mostly) correct because of your immortal sludge girlfriend. she's quite literally everything she is THE quintessential companion of moffat's whole era she is so terminally some guy and she is so special for it!!! she saved twelve's life multiple times, saved humanity through her memories of her mother, and she always holds on despite everything (the monks. the cybermen) and still always looks at the universe with wonder and curiosity and love and her storyline ruined my life. oh good lord WHEN the "i would rather die as i am than live as something else" hits and WHEN that directly ties into twelve's own refusal to regenerate. anyway bbc i am asking you to bring her back for the 70th and give her a happy ending or [gif of bill shooting twelve with a gun] (@aq2003 )
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bonefall · 2 months
Note
Okay so a convo made me remember that Icecloud and Foxleap become apprentices 4-5 moons after the three, which means Ferncloud either had four litters so the three could nurse while also having kits so much younger than them, or she just so happens to have milk despite not having kits OR her last litter was really held back. Mostly bringing this up because obviously Squilf and Leaf still can't nurse the three in BB and I was curious if Ferc was still going to nurse them since I know you gave away her last litter or if someone else will do that or if there's a definite answer for this detail yet.
Daisy did it! Her kits were recently weaned, but Sorreltail at the time was nursing FOUR kittens. That's a lot for one suckler to handle, so Daisy would help out which kept her milk coming.
So Daisy has it handled. Ferncloud is still reeling from horrifically losing THREE children in a short period of time. At this moment in time, she didn't feel ready for more.
But, anyway! Foxleap and Icecloud are NOT DustFern kittens in BB. They were shuffled. This is because Ferncloud has waaaay too few surviving kittens while Brightheart and Sorreltail exploded the gene pool. Their kits in BB are;
Dustpelt x Ferncloud:
Spiderleg (ALIVE)
Shrewpaw (Car accident while chasing a pheasant; Squilf's guardian angel)
Lurchkit (Destruction of the White Hart)
Hollykit (Ditto)
Birchfall (ALIVE)
Seedpaw (Drowned)
Lilyheart (ALIVE)
Ferncloud is the Educator of ThunderClan until her death in TBC. She lives long enough to confront her little brother, Ashfur, who is now from a younger litter. Dustpelt died in the Battle of the True Eclipse, while defending his last litter from Dark Forest warriors.
Additionally, Spotfur and Duststripe (prev. Sorrelstripe) are now Birchfall's kittens, in trade for Dovewing and Ivypool to go into the Firekin family. Toadstep is also still alive; the husband of Lionblaze.
Lilyheart hasn't had any kittens yet, though. I'm still holding on to Leafshade and Honey...something i forgot her name. ThunderClan is already pretty full of cats and she really didn't need to have them so young. Plus, she got seriously traumatized from how Seedpaw died, and she's the sort of mature person to realize she doesn't want to be responsible for young lives when that's still affecting her.
Brightheart x Cloudtail
Whitewing (alive)
Foxleap (Battle of the True Eclipse)
Icecloud (Born after the BOTTE, named after Iceheart, alive)
Snowbush, Ambermoon, and Dewnose all still exist, but were adopted to other couples! They're going to show up in other Clans. Cloud and Bright kept a single kitten from each litter.
Foxleap is probably going to be younger than he is in-canon, because I feel like he often gets lost in the massive Po3 Apprentice Generation. So, he'll be somewhere between Po3 and OotS, interacting with Dovewing and Ivypool as they grow up.
Icecloud, also shuffled in age, is also going to end up with a bigger role in AVOS-era stuff, he's transmasc and a fast friend of Alderheart when he joins ThunderClan after being raised by his mother Jessy as a kittypet. Him and Lilyheart make up Alderheart's misfit friend group.
(In general I think ThunderClan feels less bloated if the births are spaced out better.)
Sorreltail x Brackenfur
Cinderheart (Alive; travelling with Fallenleaf)
Honeysnake (survived the adder; killed in the BOTTE)
Poppyfrost (Alive; inventor of gardening)
Molepaw (Greencough... angel name is Moleflight and he is constantly fighting Jayfeather)
JUST having the infamous Brackenfour. No more; BB!Brackenfur was killed in the Battle of the FALSE Eclipse at the end of Po3. Sorreltail is living for a MUCH longer time; she's still around in the current arc, preparing to retire as Head of Kitchen Patrol.
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