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#but tried telling myself certainly even if it's true no one will say it
peachssodapop · 9 months
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It's been months I'm never going to recover
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amiascv · 3 months
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"My greatest enemy, scoring a date!"
Alastor × F!Reader —
tags: enemies to lovers, no established relationship yet. <more platonic than romantic>
content warning: includes swearing, ooc alastor, ooc everyone really, your regular hazbin hotel content.
series?: <i think?>
START!
. . . "Y/N! Alastor! Please could you put off your bantering for one moment. I really, like, really need to focus and I just can't with all the noise right now!" Charlie raged at the two overlords standing behind her as she was busy planning her next course of action to get the Hazbin Hotel to attract more sinners.
"Of course, sweetie! I wouldn't dare imagine causing you no good!" Y/N, the Library Demon, babied her princess. But not out of pure love, Heav- or more fittingly, Hell no! It was out of spite against the Radio Demon beside her.
However, why were they fighting in the first place? You see...
"Our little princess seems to be quite the hardworker lately! Isn't she, Ali?" Sing-songed Y/N, admiring the heir to the throne of Hell as she researched and scoured all the books gave to her on how to attract more sinners towards the Hotel. (courtesy of her, the Library Demon, obviously!)
"She certainly is, N/N! At this rate she'll gain more knowledge and power than ever before! Power which I can guide..." Voiced out Alastor as static soon took over most of his vocal cords in excitement. Excitement which didn't go unnoticed by his dear overlord buddy.
"Aha... aha... Say that part one more time for me?" She threated which caught his amusement. Y/N had a lot of powers, but controlling her temper when it comes to her possessions? Nope, no, nuh uh! Not one of her traits, that's for sure! But Alastor? He definitely took advantage of this weakness of hers every single chance he got. Like now, actually!
"Hmm? I do believe I've made myself clear, sweetheart, having ear trouble? I know a good otolaryngologist around these parts if you're interested, my dear!" He teased. Y/N wasn't really this easy to be shoved and pushed around, but why could he do it like it's his one true purpose in life? It infuriated the Librarian even more. So much that she'd even attack the little shit right here and now.
She didn't even need Charlie's power, she just wanted it out of boredom. So why was she so affected?
"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU RADIO DEMON!"
Hours past after she apologized to Charlie, and now she was busy taking off her steam at Rosie's side of town. Cannibal town!
"And then he just laughs it off?! He laughs at the sight of ME?!" She rants, demon horns coming out of her head and scaring off other sinners and hell-born alike trying to approach Rosie. Her listener only laughs in amusement at her friend's retelling. It was certainly amusing when she knew both sides to the story. It's like trying to solve a puzzle knowing the end would be a masterpiece to remember!
Her giggles die down as she soon replies, "Deary me, have you tried telling our old friend to stop? Maybe he could if you ask!" She almost choked at her statement. Ask one of the scariest overlords? To stop messing with her? Fuck no! Y/N was prideful of her capabilities, but not too ignorant enough to ask Alastor to just stop.
"If you wanted me to get killed that badly, love, then say so!"
"Well I know for certain you could get something off of asking him!"
"Like what?"
"Maybe... a deal, darling?"
"A deal with the cannibal with shits for brains?"
"Uh-huh! Maybe he's pushing you to your limits so you can have a one on one talk!" She convinces her even further. She does know him better than her... so maybe, it wouldn't hurt to try.
"... If I'm dead by tomorrow you know why," And with that, pages flew around you, enveloping you in their magic and transporting you back to the hotel. Meanwhile with Rosie...
"Alastor, dear, better not blow this thing sideways with her!" She calls out to the shadow hiding behind her. Making his entrance, his smile not faltering, he brushes off the dust he's collected from listening on the two delightful women's conversation.
"Oh don't you worry, my lovely! I wouldn't dream of wasting your opportunity given to me!"
"You better not."
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Adrien is Marinette's Therapist, NOT her Boyfriend and it's Gross
Mental health struggles are no joke and, if you have those struggles, then you absolutely need a partner who will support you through them. That's why, at face value, Adrien supporting Marinette with her PTSD and anxiety is very sweet. It's what a good boyfriend should do. The problem is that Adrien is being written like her therapist, not her boyfriend.
Adrien has his own struggles with depression, loss, and paternal neglect. Yet none of these struggles are brought up once Adrien and Marinette get together. Instead, the relationship is all about her needs and struggles even though this season ends with Gabriel's take down, meaning that focusing on Adrien's issues would have made more sense from a narrative perspective. How much more powerful would the final have been if Marinette really understood Adrien, Emilie, and Gabriel's relationship?
But why do that when we can make everything about Adrienette instead? Why bother to mention Emilie when Marinette is a much better point of conflict between Adrien and Gabriel? After all, if we did that, then Adrien would have a life outside of Marinette and that would be, well, sigh, let's get into it, shall we?
In Derision, we learn that Marinette apparently doesn't have some form of anxiety or ADHD or any of the other things that people have theorized over the years. No, vanilla-Marinette is a totally relaxed, go-with-the-flow non-planner who only started planning after Chloe, Sabrina, and Kim gave her PTSD. Does this insult her character and make no sense? Yes, but let's not get into that. Let's just accept the retcon and look at the fallout of Adrien knowing that his new girlfriend has massive trauma that's mainly focused on romance and controlling situations.
The very next episode is Intuition. In it we see Marinette calling Adrien to show off her ability to do things without planning (or, at least, with less planning) and it's clear from context that this is an exercise that they're doing:
Adrien: Well... (his phone rings) Fancy that! Marinette! I like spending time with Marinette. (picks up his phone) Marinette: (on-call) Guess what I'm calling for: nothing! Can you believe it? I'm calling you randomly, totally out of the blue, for no reason at all! Adrien: So you didn't write down everything you might need to say to me based on everything I might say to you? Marinette: Not at all! Well... I did. I really tried not to, you know, but it was too hard! Anyhow, I limited myself to fourteen possible conversations, including this one! Adrien: Congratulations! Marinette: (on-call) Thank you! Adrien: And did you prepare questions for science class? Marinette: (on-call) Not-a-one! Not even for the live video conference we're doing with Max's mom on the super awesome Tsurugi space jet! I, Marinette, will improvise questions, unpredictably, without planning anything!
In the context of the show, this conversation is deeply concerning and I don't know wtf the writers think they're doing. There is no way in hell that a 14-year-old should be guiding his girlfriend through a therapy session or therapy exercise unless he has the guidance and approval of a trained mental health professional.
Seriously look at what Adrien is doing in this dialogue: Marinette tells him that she's called him without planning and he doesn't just say "that's great!" Instead, he asks if that's true, congratulates her for her mild improvement, and then prompts her to talk about another situation where she would plan things out. In other words, he's asking about the therapy homework that he's clearly given her or that they've decided on together. It's also clear that this isn't their first discussion on the topic because he's very comfortable knowing what to ask about to see if she's done her homework right.
Why was this homework chosen? Who knows! It certainly wasn't picked by someone with training! A therapist wouldn't tell you to avoid planning for a school assignment (something that we've never seen Marinette overplan before, but once again, we're ignoring the retcon). This scene would arguably be inappropriate for an established adult relationship, but a nascent teenage one? Absolutely not.
My SO and I have both done therapy and seen wildly unbalanced relationships. This conversation threw massive red flags for us on both fronts. This is not what a healthy relationship looks like. This is not a give and take. This is why you need a therapist to at least guide you through this type of situation or you will set yourself up in roles where person A is not getting their needs met because the relationship has an established dynamic where person A is the giver and person B is the taker.
This is especially true for a young relationship that's just getting its feet off of the ground. They're supposed to be in the honeymoon phase! More established relationships are better able to handle phases where one person needs more support than the other which absolutely happens and is totally normal. However, when those things happen, it's vital for the supporting partner to have their own support since they can't get it from their partner.
Miraculous denies Adrien this suport. In the very next episode, we get this:
Adrien: I've always seen Marinette acting funny in my presence. I thought that was just the way she was. I thought it was sweet. I thought it was just her charm. But now that I know it's because she loves me and she freaks out about telling me, I feel bad. Because it means that this whole time she's been uncomfortable around me, and I haven't done anything to help her. Kagami: But you didn't know. Adrien: It doesn't take away from her suffering. I just wish she could feel more at ease when she's with me. Otherwise, one day, it'll be too late and she'll give up. Kagami: What can I do to help, Adrien? Adrien: Thanks, but it's not up to you or anyone else to help. I'm the one who's gotta do something.
No! Adrien, you are not equipped to deal with this solo. Ask Kagami to help! Ask Alya to help! Ask Marinette's parents to help! There are times when it's okay to involve others in your relationship and this is one of those times! This isn't even a relationship issue! It's a mental health issue! I know we're flipping gender roles here, but it's not somehow cute or healthy just because a guy is trying to "fix" the girl for once. No one should try to take on that task. This is what therapy is for.
If therapy is not an option for financial or other reasons, then yes, sometimes you have to struggle through and loved ones can help, but in TV land? Especially aimed-at-kids TV land? Show the ideal scenario! At the very least, show a support network! And I mean actual support, not Kagami asking to help and Adrien shooting her down! Writers, you are making Gabriel's dislike of Marinette valid! You are making it so that she is dragging Adrien down! Stop doing that!
Adrien deserves love and support, too. Adrien deserves to be romanced. Adrien deserves more than a kiss and an "I love you" that he had to fight to hear! He never even gets one of the presents from Marinette's chest. She did more to woo him before they got together and it's such pathetic writing.
The fun of getting these two together is letting them do all the stuff they've always wanted to do! Let Marinette bring him macrons! Let him bring her roses! Let her enhance his wardrobe! Let him write her poems! Let them be a healthy, balanced, sickeningly-cute couple! It's fine if she's nervous at the start and takes a while to act normal, but this show takes it to a level beyond teenage jitters and it's not funny or cute. It's concerning.
All of these issues start with Derision's romance-based-PTSD retcon and it was the worst thing they could have done for the Love Square. It poisons the rest of the season and is why I just can't ship these two in canon even though I love what they could have been. They have established such a horrifically unhealthy dynamic that I can't see this ending well unless they get couple's therapy in the very near future and that's not even touching on the baggage that will come from the lies and still unresolved Ladynoir trauma.
As soon as Marinette has romance-based PTSD, she was incapable of being in a relationship until after she'd learned to manage her PTSD. (PTSD cannot be cured, btw, you just learn how to manage it and the symptoms can lessen.) The writers apparently knew that. It's why they gave her a therapist to support her as she worked through her issues and got to the point where she can say "I love you". His name is Adrien. Isn't he cute?
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thedevilsoftruth · 1 month
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Hey!, I just finished rewatching moon knight and now scrolling through the moon knight tags when I came across a post about how Mr knight is actually Marc Spector and Steven Grant is a playboy billionaire in the comics and I was shook. Then I came across your post of you ranting about the differences from the show to the comics, which blew my mind!, and now I’m so intrigued and curious about the true lore of moon knight, every time I try to search about it on google I just get references from the shows (so frustrating) I can’t afford to buy the comics, so if you can/want could you please tell me all the important and interesting facts/lore that’s in the moon knight comics?
Sorry for the long message, just came across your page and pressed follow, love your content!. ❤️
AAAAAAGGGGHHHH HOLY SHIT. HOLY SHIT. GIIGLING AND KICKING MY FEET IN THE AIR. HEY, LOOK MA, I MADE IT!! I GET TO EXPLAIN THE MOON KNIGHT COMICS LORE TO SOME GUY ON THE INTERNET!!
in all seriousness, this made my day. I'm so glad you enjoy my content, and I will happily explain to you the MK lore!
I completely get you on the not wanting to but the comics thing. Comics are expensive. Honey, imma be real with you, readcomiconline.li is where it's at. It's where I read all of the comics I didn't have.
So before I go on a tangent and explain things, and this goes for anyone wanting to start reading the comics, heres a little list of all the comics I've read so far in what I understand to be chronological order.
It's a little bit cheesy and a VERY long run, but Marc Spector: Moon Knight from 1989-94 is maaayybbeee where you want to start off, but maybe not. I didn't start off with this run, but even as bad as the old comics are, they're a bit important.
But, I HIGHLY suggest you start out with the Lemire and Smallwood run from 2016. It was the first run I completed, and it's an amazing run and VERY important to read. Many people say it's the best run. It's certainly a run, I'll tell you that. ( Also I didn't read that one online, I received it last year as a Christmas gift. Also readcomic doesn't have all of the issues, so be warned on that. )
Next I read From The Dead. And I moved on to Vengeance of The Moon Knight from 2009. And after I'd suggest reading Age of Khonshu, Devils Reign and then The Midnight Mission. You can read all of these for free on readcomiconline.li ( don't type in comics plural because it will direct you to the wrong site ) be warned though because there are a lot of ads and you will get jumpscared by anime boobies.
~~
Now moving onto what you asked me for. The important stuff, right.
I'm new to this whole comic reading stuff as well, and for anyone else reading this who knows more than I do, please add additional information I missed down in the reply section. It would mean a lot. So now I'm going to give a you a quick run down on Marc's origin story. ( And for a quick disclaimer, I will come off as not taking myself seriously in some parts of this post because I don't take myself seriously lol. )
Marc Spector was born on March 9th, 1987 in Chicago Illinois into a Jewish family. His father was Elias Spector and his mother was Wendy Spector ( his younger brother being Randall Spector )Elias was a rabbi who manged to escape Nazi prosecution during the days of Hitler and all that jazz. Because Elias was a rabbi, Randall would get picked on at school a lot, and Marc would be there to stand up for him. Even at a young age Marc was exposed to a lot of violence. That could come from growing up yk... Kinda poor and having to stand up for your lil bro.
Marc's violent nature was really born when a close family friend of his, Yitz Perlmen was discovered to be a secret serial killer who targeted Jews. From what I understand, Perlmen tried to Kill Marc ( mind you Marc was like 11 or 12 ) but Marc had escaped but his traumatic experiences led him to form D.I.D
As seen in the Lemire run, the first time Marc had encountered Khonshu was when he was 12 and was getting diagnosed for his D.I.D Marc wasn't told to his face from the doctor about his disorder and was told to step outside the office. Marc tried to evesdrop on the conversation, and from outside of the doctor's office, he meets Khonshu. Khonshu tells him, " That man in there is not your true father. I am. " Mind you, Marc is 12!!! 12!!!! Khonshu began manipulating Marc since he was twelve because he was, obviously really fucking young, and traumatized. Khonshus tactics were to strip Marc away from his religion and culture and make him submit to him.
So anyways, Marc was sent to Putnam Psychiatric Hospital and would stay there until he was 18 when his father funeral came along and he was let go for a week to go visit his family. This is where we learn Marc's relationship with his father was complex. Marc tells his mother, Wendy, that his father must have been happy to send him away because he was embarrassed by him. Wendy and Marc have an argument, which ends in Marc saying he's going to the bathroom, when he actually leaves to his childhood bedroom and escapes out the window when he hears Khonshus voice.
Marc later enlisted into the U.S marines Corps and served as a private for a couple years. But on Marc's second tour to Iraq, superiors started to report his odd behavior and they found out that Marc had lied about his disorder, leaving him to be discharged. Marc joined the CIA and served with his brother Randall. Randall was jealous of Marcs talents and killed Marc's girlfriend, Lisa, because she was going to expose a gun scheme. Marc then like... Threw bombs at Randall and shit and then assumed he was dead...but he wasn't.
Marc left the CIA after that and started doing illegal boxing, where he met his soon to be best friend, Jean-Paul Duchamp ( usually refered to as Frenchie ) and they became mercenaries together and started killing a bunch of people, in Marc's case, for mooonnneeyyy!!! Get that bag, girlie. And then Marc got put on trial for war crimes!! His crime being yk...assistanting the president of this south African country called Bosqueverde as one does.
And then he started to do missions under this group call the Karnak Cowboys and fell in love with one of his groupmates, Layla El-faouly, as seen in later issues of The Midnight Mission. Then she fucking died when an escape went wrong.
So anyways Marc meets this funny lil guy named Raoul Bushman ( he is not funny lil guy, he's killed hundred of people, probably) So Marc works for him with Frenchie and they, together, set to north Sudan to raid a dig site. ( This should start to sound familiar, as it was briefly touched on in the show when Arthur's guys captured Steven and put cuffs on him and slammed him in the back of their car ) Looks like raid shadow legends went down again, and things started to get not so epic when Raoul killed the lead Archeologist of the dig site, Peter Alraune in front of his daughter Marlene. This pissed the ever loving shit out of Marc because even though Marc likes violence, he doesn't enjoy violence against innocent people, and so he punches the fucker but uh oh! The Raoul Bushman Strikes Back, and he fucking KILLS MARC IN RETURN AND EVERYONE ELSE EXPECT FOR FRENCHIE AND MARLENE AND THIS ONE MF WHO TOLD HIM HE WOULD TELL HIM WHERE THE DIG SITE WAS. ( really Raoul left Marc mortally wounded, but he was on the brick of death, basically)
Marc was able to regain conscious and drag himself halfway to Khonshus tomb ( which is what Raoul was looking for ) Marlene and a bunch of other citizens find Marc and they carry him to Khonshus tomb. Marc hears Khonshus voice for yet another time, and Marc is revived and becomes the Moon Knight we all know and love. Then he basically killed Raoul's guys and then fell in love with Marlene.
So that's his origin story. Now onto the stuff I know as fact but it won't be explained in chronological order because I haven't read a ton of comics to explain it in chronological order.
He used Steven as a a way to handle money and build wealth so they could have recourses like vehicles, weapons and a ton of other random bullshit ( go!! ) that they don't need. Jake was used as a new York taxi driver so that he had his eye in the streets and knew when shit was goin down. They're both kind of horny. Jake literally spends some of his free time in a strip clubs drinking rum. ( As seen in the midnight mission and implied on in the Lemire run. )
His relationship with Marlene was long, but didn't last because, if I'm recalling correctly, Marc had a mental breakdown and decided to basically stop working for Khonshu so he could be with Marlene. But soon after he started hearing Khonshus voice again and Marlene couldn't take anymore of it, so she left him.
And then there's that bullshit with The Midnight Man. All I know is that he passed away from cancer and had a son named Jeff Wilde. Jeff aspired to Marc and wanted to be his sidekick, kind of like Robin and Batman in the Lego Batman movie with a little less adoption, but Marc kept on refusing as a way to protect Jeff. The Jeff had this whole thing where he turned evil or some shit idk and I guess Marc killed him? I'm not sure. Please, moon knight gang, let me know what happened in the reply section because I'm ignorant.
Marc had his independence from Khonshu after banishing Khonshu to Asgardian Prison ( seen in Age of Khonshu and discussed in The Midnight Mission) and decided " fuck you, I don't need need you anymore. Imma do my own thing and you can't do nothing about it " and then he became Mr. Knight. Mr. Knight is kind of a detective and he consults with policemen ( as seen in From The Dead ) Moon Knight is the one who does all the fighting.
From where Marc's development is at right now, Marc was running a thing called the Midnight Mission, which was a place where citizens would go to to report strange things happening in the city.
Additional, fun information:
Marc has a daughter named Diatrice. He only knows about it because Jake had a secret relationship with Marlene on the side after Marc and Marlene broke up.
He sleeps all day in the tomb of Khonshu and fights crime at night. He's like a bat!!
His ringtone ( as seen in the midnight mission) is The Killing Moon by Echo and The Bunnymen. ( Y'all should listen to it, if you haven't. it's really good. ).
He drives a red convertible car ( as seen in the Brain Micheal Bendis run, don't read it it's REALLY bad and insufficient. ) and also a motorcycle ( as see in Vengeance of The Moon Knight)
He was originally supposed to fight mainly just werewolf's and um... Writers at Marvel had different ideas.
His favorite drink is an ice cold vodka ( as seen in the Midnight Mission)
He had a mansion and then his money went bye bye and now he lives in a haunted house ( as seen, once again, in the Midnight Mission)
Frenchie is also gay! Hes married to a man named Rob! ( And this is only from what I've heard, by he apparently had a secret crush on Marc at some point.)
And yeah. That's all I have for ya today. Thank you if you made it this far, and I hope I was able to satisfy your curiosity a little bit!
Goodknight everyone!!!
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josiesullysblog · 1 year
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Don’t Leave Me. P2
~AGED UP Neteyam x Na’vi reader
~Angst, Fluff
~Proofread?-no
~Summary-[Y/n] grew up in a home with conditional love.
***
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Neteyam was a protector. He knew his role at a very young age, it could be something small like a forest animal, or a young child in his clan he understood that if the time came he’d protect.
He took pride in being like his father, he loved protecting his family he wanted them to look for him if they were ever in danger. So, he believed he could justify why he saw red when he saw this mark on you.
Neteyam knew, that you were a sweet girl. You barely stepped out of line and most of the time kept to yourself. Whoever hurt you was going to learn, don’t fuck with Neteyam’s mate.
“I don't like repeating myself.”
You stood silently as Neteyam looked at your cheek, “it was no one,” you said trying to convince yourself more than him. He let a dry laugh, “[Y/n], I understand if you're scared whoever hit you is gonna hurt you again,” he paused.
He forced your eyes to look at him, “But I assure you whoever laid their hands on you will pay.”
Your breath hitched as the boy smiled. How could he smile yet make such threats, what would he do if he found out who it was? You stayed silent not knowing what to say, “[Y/n]!”
A voice called pulling your attention out appeared Kiri, “Your mother was calling for you,” your eyes widen as you thank her, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say to Neteyam as you try to leave, “[Y/n], if you won’t tell me I’ll find out.”
You knew he would, you were more scared of your mother than him so you chose silence. “Okay,” you say as you run off. This side of him gave you comfort in a way.
He cared about you, and he’s willing to figure out who hurt you. You smile softly as you see your mother, “yes,” you say softly.
She had never been violent towards you, but you knew she didn't like you. You didn't know why, maybe it's because you had grown up.
Many parents tend to want babies, yet become upset when the babies grow up. You were an only child for many reasons but the main one was, your parents didn't like each other.
They didn't even sleep in the same room so they certainly weren't going to mate.
“Why’d you run away,” she grabbed your ear, “Huh? Do you think this shit funny?” she dragged you as you yelled in pain, “Stop!” she flung you to the floor as your father came into the room, “what’s the meaning of this?”
You lifted your head to look at your mother, “I have never once done anything to deserve,” you sobbed as your father went to you, “honey-,” you cut him off, “GET AWAY FROM ME!”
Your emotions overwhelmed you, “the both of you are terrible people,” you stood up wiping your cheeks your sadness turning to anger.
“I wish I was just as naive as the people you put your act on for.”
Your mother grabbed you by the arm, “That's enough,” you yanked yourself away, “is it? You two act like I don't know, that I don't see that you both don't love each other.” Your mother stopped, “That's not true.”
“YES, IT IS!” you scream, “Honey,” your father tried to speak again, “No, it doesn't make sense. If you loved each other I wouldn't have caught that lady on Dad.”
You looked him in the eye, “Mom wouldn't have a new “special friend” over all the time,” tears fell down your cheeks, “and I’ve noticed this entire time, but I didn't say anything.”
You stopped as you notice tears in your mother's eyes, “I didn't say anything because I thought maybe one-day things would change.”
Your father put his head down, “and you hitting me today even though I did nothing proved something to me.” Your father's head shot up, “you hit her,” his voice raising, “I learned that you aren't staying together for me, you're doing it for them.”
“You aren't even his,” your mother’s voice was soft, “What?” your father steps in front of you, “don't listen.” your mother yanked at you, “YOU AREN’T EVEN HIS, [Y/n].”
You felt your heart in your stomach, “he was just some cover-up because your real dad is a piece of shit,” you sobbed, “tell me she's lying, DAD, TELL ME,” his head hung low, his hand reaching out for you, “I still love you.”
You ripped his hand away, “why do you hate me so much,” you faced your mother, “you ruined my life,” she said smiling, “It's only fair you feel how I’ve felt since the day you’ve been born.”
“Your father left me BECAUSE OF YOU,” your mother said, “he said no one could love me since my body was ruined.” she looked at you as if you were trash, “what woman has a child and no mate? So, this piece of crap agreed to play along.”
You looked at your “father” He looked away, “We had an agreement we would do whatever we want but the minute we leave this house, we were mated.” she smiled, “Guess you're not a dumbass after all.”
You looked at your hands, “fuck you, Mom,” you turned to leave wiping the tears that fell.
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You sat on a tree contemplating. Everything you've ever known has been torn into shreds, and tears puddles in your eyes. How could you move on after this?
The man who you thought was your father turned out to be a hoax your mother put on. You sobbed as you thought more about it, and the only question you had was why.
Why did this have to happen to you? Why did your “parents” not love each other? Why did your mother lie about your father? I mean even if he was a piece of shit you still deserved to know who your real father is.
“[Y/n],” a voice calls for you. You knew who it was, the boy who has been stuck in your mind for as long as you can remember, “yes,” you said as he sat down next to you. His hand grabbed yours he sat in silence not saying anything.
Neteyam said he was going to find out who hit you, and he did. “I know who did it,” he said finally breaking the silence. Your eyes widen, “teyem, she didn't mean to,” you don't know why you tried defending her.
She didn't deserve that from you.
“Didn't mean to my ass,” he made you look at him, “You know I love you,” you nodded slowly, “so, you know that I'd do anything to protect you, even from your own parents.”
You looked away, “I just don't get it,” You finally broke down in front of the boy, “I don't know why they are like this,” the boy wrapped his arms around you, “You deserve better [Y/n], I can give you everything you ever dreamed of and more.”
You believed him. You knew he could but your mind stopped you. How did you know he wasn't going to leave you? How do you know that even after you have his child he won't leave? Every bad possible situation to ever happen your mind thought about.
“My parents,” you paused your mind was mushy, “they didn't love each other. They put on this front but I knew they didn't love each other.” you let the truth slip your mouth, “How will I know you’ll love me?” The question came from a place of insecurity and for most, those types of questions were annoying.
But you needed to know. You wanted the reassurance that he wanted you, not because you could give him children. Not because you could cook, clean, or whatever because anybody could do those things. You wanted him to want you for you, and not the things you could do for him.
“I’ve always loved you,” Neteyam kisses your hand, “from the moment we met, till right now my heart has always been yours.” he smiled at you as he saw that blush appear on your cheeks.
“I can never take someone else as long as I live because I’ll always be searching for you in them,” tears puddled in your eyes, “I don't care how long it takes, I’ll wait for you. If you have problems tell me I want to help, I need you to know that i’m right here,” he put his forehead on yours, “I’ll protect you, I’d do anything even kill if it meant I could see you one last time, [Y/n].”
You connected your lips with him, and he grabbed you pulling you into his lap. You grabbed onto his hair deepening the kiss till you both are forced to let go for air. “I love you, Neteyam.”
He smiled big, “You won’t have to worry about your parents, love” You gave a bittersweet smile maybe leaving them was for the best, “Okay, oh dear you have blood on your chest!” the boy simply wiped it away, “I was helping my mother cook!” you nodded before you two started cuddling, “I meant every word I said, I’ll protect you.” you smiled, “I know.”
After you had left, Kiri tried speaking with Neteyam but it was like the boy was gone. He was there but someone else took over his body. Neteyam knew your schedule, who you hung out with, and what you did so for you to have a mark it would need to come from someone close to you.
“Kiri, did you hang out with [Y/n] today?” the girl shook her head, “No, I haven't she was with her family most of the day.” Neteyam nodded before walking off, had only Kiri known what was going to happen next she wouldn't have said that.
He became your shadow, watching as your mother dragged you. His teeth gritted against each other, it was taking a lot from him not to go and kill your mother.
He wanted you to think he was a good boy, who followed the rules and was always nice. He didn't need you to know that he had bad thoughts. Thoughts of killing everybody that came into contact with you, and keeping you locked away from everything.
You’d become dependent on him, your eyes would look for him, and you’d be on your knees for him. He stood outside the makeshift door as he heard you fight with your parents.
“You aren't even his!” Neteyam’s heart broke for you. Finding out the man who raised you isn't your father? That's a lot to deal with, thankfully Neteyam was there to help you.
He heard you cry and all he needed was for you to leave. “Fuck you, Mom,” you said before running out. Neteyam's smile widen as he creeped out heading into the room, “hello,” he said as your mother looked at him, “Neteyam! What brings you here?” what heartless person yells at their child then turns around and smiles?
I mean he has no room to talk, “I heard a little arguing everything alright?” your father nodded, “Just a little family disagreement,” the man went to place a hand on the boy but Neteyam grabbed it quickly, “It didn't sound like that to me.”
“Thats one good grip you have boy,” he tried getting his hand back but Neteyam's grip became harder, “I know what you said to her,” his anger flipping to your mother, “and I think it's just so cruel to keep such a huge secret from your daughter.”
“Good thing she���s coming with me,” he moved quickly taking a knife out and cutting your father's neck, not to kill him just a warning. Your father fell to the floor as your mother backed up.
“Scared now?” he grabbed her and covered her mouth before she could scream, “i’m going to tell you how this is going to work from here on out, or,” he brought his knife to the woman’s neck, “you're not going to like it.”
“You are going to stay away from [Y/n],” he kicked your father who was writhing on the floor, “i’m going to mate with her, and you two will of course give us your blessings or I will kill you two.”
Your mother cried under the boy's tight grip, “You weren't so sad after causing my girl harm,” he cut her high before letting her fall, “tell anyone this was me and I’ll have you wiped from this planet.”
He put his knife back and walked out, “Thank you for the blessings, Mom and Dad.”
***
HEYYY GUYSSS!!! so sorry it took longer to finish this I have so much school work thank God school is almost over!! Hope you enjoy it!!”
Taglist: @cherry-blossom24 , @yourbobaeyestell, @erenjaegerwife, @mashiromochi, @nxptury, @eywaheardyou, @vviolaswrld, @stevesdick , @nana-luvsyu, @liyahsocorro , @coterami, @parrotpeggy, @adaiasafira, @elegantzippercashshoe, @lollife1617, @aracelikara, @bluealiensimp, @hoodiepandaninja16, @ssc7514, @white-girl444, @idaxellqs, @nataliexoxoxo29
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nyrasproblm · 1 month
Text
I Couldn't Anymore
Gurney Halleck x fem!reader
Word Count: 1K
Warning: mention of death.
note: I used phrases number 1 and 16 from the list of phrases in this post!
Summary: Gurney confesses his love for you.
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"Gurney, wait!" you planted your feet on the ground, stopping as he tried to continue pulling you.
You saw Gurney's head turn towards you, he tried to hold back a growl of frustration. He released your hand and walked a few closer, holding your arms.
"You know, we have to find a quiet place to talk." he started and you shook your head.
"Tell me what we need to talk about so urgently, it's the middle of the night!" you exclaimed and Gurney planted his index finger in front of his lips, his weathered brow frowning slightly.
"I just got back from the spice fields, I almost got swallowed by a sandworm." he stated like it was nothing, causing your eyes to widen.
"Is that true?" you asked and the shameless man just nodded, affirming. "Gurney–"
"Come on, come on, please." he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "We can't just stand here in the middle of the hallway."
You started walking again and Gurney took your hand again, turning his head to the side to check if anyone was nearby.
You were one of the Atreides' maids, you worked in the kitchens, you didn't know how someone with a high and important position like Gurney had looked at you, and you also didn't know why he would want your friendship, but he did.
It was common for him to escape to the kitchens when he was free from his tasks, when there were few around he would pull you by the hand and take you for a walk through the empty areas of the Atreides palace on Arrakeen. The two of you would often walk and talk for hours, and Gurney would even play some basilet for you, making you laugh with his graces and songs.
You were about to go to bed when the heavy knocks of Gurney's hands sounded on the door of your humble quarters in the servants' area, and here you were now.
When they got close to the training yard, Gurney stopped and turned to you, then held your arms and guided you to one of the walls, making you hold your breath.
Well, it would be a lie if I said that I had never looked at him with different eyes, Gurney was an older and more mature man, but still attractive and funny, he would certainly be a good husband, but it was almost impossible for him to get married, for the way he lived, with his position as warmaster.
He pushed you until your back touched the cold stone, then he gave you a light smile and looked at you for a few minutes, a small, genuine smile on his face.
"What?" you asked, feeling confused, your cheeks heating up from the way he looked at you.
"Let me just..." he said, sighing. "I was on the brink of death today."
"And you say that calmly?" You lightly slapped his arm, making him let out a low laugh.
"It's over, I'm safe and well." he said, lowering his voice a little. "But, it made me realize something."
"What?"
"It made me realize that... I can't hide what I feel anymore, I need to tell you." he said, his voice becoming hoarser, almost a whisper.
"Gurney... what are you talking about?" you asked, your heart started to beat faster.
"I have feelings for you." he said bluntly, looking into your eyes. "I couldn’t live with myself, if I didn’t tell you.”
You wide your eyes slightly, the cold settled in your stomach, you looked at Gurney and he had the same expression, he was a dreamer.
"Gurney, are you kidding me?" you asked
"No, I would never joke about something like that, you know." he said. "I'm like a constant wonder, my head is full of songs and quotes and flowery phrases. And there are times when you also take up a lot of space, among all the beautiful things I have in my head."
"Don't say such nice things to me, Gurney." you frowned, feeling your eyes moisten.
"Ah, ah, no, don't cry, my beauty." he placed his calloused hands on your cheeks. "It will break my heart if a tear falls from your eyes."
He wiped the tears from your cheeks before they ran any further, and continued looking firmly into your eyes.
"Are you really serious?" you asked, your big eyes staring at him. "Aren't you kidding me?"
"I would never do that." he moved even closer, you could feel his warm breath on your cheek. "How you made me fall in love with you is still beyond me."
You blinked a few times, his eyes didn't lie. He was telling the truth. Without thinking much, you crashed your lips onto his, closing your eyes. Just as quickly as you approached, you moved away, looking at him. Gurney now had a big smile on his lips.
"Is it already like this? Stealing kisses?" he said in a laughing voice.
"You would do the same thing." you said shyly, this made his smile widen even wider.
Gurney pulled you into his arms and used one of his hands to tilt your chin up, looking into your eyes. You could hear the noise of the city, the moving sand, the trees near the courtyard. But everything stopped when Gurney pressed her lips against his, in a real kiss this time. Your lips were thin and dry, but none of that mattered, you had never felt this way.
He lowered his hands to your waist, squeezing gently, you sighed and raised your hands to his face, feeling the skin not so firm due to his age. He separated, placing light and short kisses on her lips, he directed his lips to her cheeks and continued placing light kisses there.
"I don't think I'll ever be able to live without touching my lips to yours again." he said and you let out a giggle.
"I would say the same thing."
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heliads · 1 year
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Hello, glad I can submit this request then, I barely find any Luke Castellan fics he needs more love 😭
Anyways, I just wanted to request something small like headcannons on what it would be like at the aftermath of the Battle of Manhattan if Luke didn't die, what would he be like and how the reader would help him overcome his trauma or problems ? Just pure fluff is what I'm trying to say ;_;
Sorry if that doesn't make any sense... Please let me know if you don't understand me XD
But thank you so much if you write this <3
i see that you have asked for headcanons but i am so delighted by this request that you get a full fic instead (ily)
masterlist
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Luke Castellan is not sure what to do with the fact that he did not die. It would have made for a better ending, he thinks. It was the logical conclusion. He tried to make a better world, and when that failed, he could have been terminated along with that last dream. It is what most people would have decided was best.
Yet Luke opens his eyes– his eyes, not someone else’s, not that awful feeling of having his body belong to some being that was not even human, let alone not him– and he is alive. Luke is not sure yet whether this is good or bad. He’s not sure that anything in this world could remotely fit into those categories anymore.
He stares up at a blank ceiling above, which confuses him. Last time he checked, Luke was dying on the ruined floor of the gods’ throne room. There had still been a roof over his head, but Luke swore that he could see a sky of the deepest blue. Luke had felt himself fall into that wondrous lapis void, and then he had felt nothing at all.
That was supposed to be dying. It was more peaceful than most people would say he deserved, given all the hell Luke wreaked on the world by allying with Kronos. Luke’s supposed ending had certainly not been pretty:  a dagger in his hand, stabbed into the one place the immortal waters of the River Styx hadn’t protected him. Achilles’ curse had lifted, and Luke was free of the Titan that had been consuming his body whole.
Yet Luke is staring up at a room that is neither burned nor broken. At first, he wonders if this is what death is like, but he’s heard enough stories of the Underworld to know that it would never be this simplistic. No, this isn’t Death; Luke sits up slowly and manages to fight nausea long enough to realize that he’s back in Camp Half-Blood. Back home, his mind tells him, and Luke has to remind himself that’s not true anymore. He has no home. He has no people, he left them all a very long time ago.
A voice to his side makes Luke whip around.
“I’d sit down if I were you.”
Luke trains his eyes until they slowly, begrudgingly focus on an orange-shirted figure seated next to him. At last, he realizes he recognizes the guy. Will Solace, one of Apollo’s kids. He must have been in charge of bringing Luke back from the dead. 
Luke is baffled by the fact that Will is perched here and not Michael Yew, current head of the Apollo cabin, until it occurs to him that Michael is likely dead. That explains the hollows under Will’s eyes, at least, and the undercurrent of hate that Will only barely keeps at bay. Such strong emotions for a boy who’s usually so cheerful. Luke supposes he only has himself to blame for that.
Will may despise Luke all he wishes, but he’s still a doctor at heart. The blond gestures for Luke to lean back down. “If you rip out your stitches and make my work worthless, I’ll kill you myself.” Will says.
Luke arches a brow. “How do I know you won’t do that anyway?”
“I’m still debating,” Will replies pleasantly.
Someone laughs next to him. “Try to stay civil, Solace. Our time for killing is over.”
A camper takes a seat on Luke’s other side. After a few moments of recollection, his addled head realizes that he knows them. That’s Y/N L/N, they’ve been in the Hermes cabin for the longest time, not one of Luke’s half siblings on the godly side but yet another demigod gone unclaimed for years. They used to complain about that to him. He doubts they would repeat the same sentiments now.
Will groans. “Let me at least try to be intimidating, L/N. I only get to do it so often.”
Y/N cracks a grin, then turns to Luke. “I imagine you must have a lot of questions.”
Luke narrows his eyes at them. “Why aren’t I dead?”
Y/N does a superb job of ignoring Will’s clear sentiment that he’d like an answer to that as well, keeping their gaze firmly trained on Luke. “You tried to stop Kronos in the end. Chiron decided that, seeing as you did all that in an effort to protect unclaimed kids and demigods who were ignored by their godly parents, you deserved a second chance.”
“Does anyone other than Chiron actually believe that?” Luke asks pointedly.
Y/N shrugs. “Depends on what you do when you get out of here.”
Will jumps up. “That’s my cue to check on the rest of my suffering patients. You know, the ones that didn’t try to betray us.”
Y/N watches him go. “Ignore him. He’s–”
Luke cuts her off. “Mad that I tried to kill everyone here? I can’t blame him.”
“So you regret what you did?” Y/N questions slowly.
“I don’t regret trying to do something,” Luke says, “only that the gods weren’t as hurt as the demigods. I didn’t want to hurt us, just them. Olympus could use a good scare.”
Thunder rumbles overhead, loud and overbearing. Luke imagines it’s a warning to him:  he’s treading on thin ice by staying alive, he’d better not press his luck by insulting the gods anymore.
Y/N sighs, evidently thinking the same thing. “You wouldn’t be the only one to want the world to change.”
Luke glances over at them. Obviously, he hasn’t seen Y/N since he switched sides, but he had forgotten that they used to be friends. Good friends, too. It’s nice to have at least that back to normal.
“You haven’t been claimed in the last while, have you?” He asks, changing the subject away from more dangerous waters.
Y/N smiles. “Actually, I have. Percy made the gods swear to start claiming more of their kids. I found out about my parentage a few days ago.”
Luke nods solemnly, but doesn’t ask for further details. He made a point of prioritizing the demigod over their godly parent when he was recruiting for Kronos during the war, and he supposes that habit has stuck. It makes him wonder how many more traits of the enemy he won’t ever be able to shake.
“So when do I get out of here?”
Y/N folds their arms across their chest. “Depends on what you mean by getting out of here. You’ll get a clean bill of health within the next day or two, most likely. You won’t be leaving the camp for months, though, if ever.”
The implications of that don’t have to be spoken aloud. Luke messed up, obviously, and so he’ll be on house arrest until the end of time. If he can prove that he’s worth the effort of saving, maybe they’ll let him live his life, but until then he’ll be monitored around the clock.
It’s more than he expected, at any rate. Part of Luke thought that he’d be handed over to some sort of trial once he healed up, made to face his crimes and be overly punished accordingly. That way, the gods could point to him in the decades and centuries to come as proof of why half-bloods should never reach for more than they deserve.
But no, he’ll be living. That’s certainly something. Luke leans back slowly against his cot and ponders this. “Do I get a personal guard or something?”
Y/N lifts a shoulder. “Kind of. You get me. I’m supposed to follow you around and make sure you don’t try to escape.”
Luke snorts. “How’d you get stuck with that job?”
“I asked for it,” Y/N says coolly.
Luke is taken aback. “Why’d you do that?” He can’t imagine anyone in this camp actively trying to bond with him, let alone someone he knew as well as Y/N. Wouldn’t they hate him for betraying them?
They might be just as surprised about it as he is. “I’m not entirely sure. Guess I thought I was the only one who wouldn’t actively try to kill you in your sleep.”
They’re brutal about it, but it’s kind of nice. Honesty is the only sort of medicine that Luke feels like he can stomach right now. Mollycoddling and sugarcoating just serve to waste time.
He half expects Y/N to back out of it, but no, when Luke is declared medically sound and all but forced out of the hospital wing by swordpoint, they’re waiting for him by the door. Luke staggers out into the bright sunlight and looks around like he’s in a dream. The camp has changed since he last saw it. Cabins have sprung up like wildflowers and more are being constructed by the moment.
Y/N notices him staring and gestures towards the new buildings. “See, that’s your doing, even if no one wants to admit it. A ton of new kids have been claimed. Hermes cabin has never been so empty.”
Bitterness surges through Luke’s throat before he can stop it. “I thought that was Percy’s idea.”
Y/N shakes their head. “Percy only got the idea from you. You can make yourself a villain if you want, but you weren’t entirely heartless. You got my godly parent to claim me, and that’s worth a lot.”
Luke smiles to himself as they go. Y/N leads him to the door of their cabin. It’s still cavernously empty compared to the close quarters Luke remembers in Hermes, and he only notices one bunk with belongings on it.
“You’re the only one here?” He asks.
Y/N nods. “So far, at least. I’ve got you now, though. Just as a warning, I will be claiming cabin counselor privileges and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
Luke grins before he realizes it. The expression makes his scar ache, but he finds he doesn’t mind it quite so much as before. “I won’t fight you on that.”
He pulls himself onto the top bunk of one of the many empty rows and surveys his new domain. “Do you think it was worth it? Figuring out who your godly parent was just for them to leave you like this?”
After all, what a life. An empty cabin already collecting dust. It’s cold in here without bodies inside to warm it up. The walls are barren of personal touches. Y/N knows their heritage, yes, and is able to move out of a cabin that was never theirs, but this doesn’t seem like much of a blessing.
Y/N lingers by the foot of Luke’s bunk, and he gestures for them to climb up and join him. They do so in a heartbeat, and then they’re sitting opposite each other, gazes locked and breathing steady.
“It can be lonely,” they admit, “but it’s not so bad. You have hope that it won’t always be this way. Maybe someone will come. Maybe someone already has.”
Luke swallows harshly. “I missed you.”
He blurts it out, hardly aware of what he’s saying. He missed a hell of a lot. Y/N. Laughing at midnight, their whispered words covered up by the sounds of dozens of campers sleeping shoulder to shoulder. Training during the day, the clash of celestial bronze. Orange shirts burning like beacons against their backs. Being able to wear his beaded necklace without feeling like a traitor, even if that’s what he is and always will be.
Y/N leans forward. “I missed you too. I kept hearing about you, which is more than you got of me, but it didn’t feel right. I don’t know where the boy I knew is, if he even exists anymore, but I’d like to try and find him again.”
“I’d like to find him again too,” Luke whispers.
It is the dream of a broken boy bleeding out in the palace of the gods. At this moment, Luke isn’t entirely sure that he didn’t die there in the Olympian throne room. If someone told him that this is what dying is like, conjuring up a vision of what he wishes he could have most of all, Luke would have believed them.
In the end, Luke has no idea if this is real or not. All he can do is keep going, keep waking up each morning to see if he is still in the hazy aftermath of a second chance or finally locked down below in the Underworld. Luke always wanted to try for the Isles of the Blest anyway. Maybe this is just his second life, his second attempt at getting there.
He reaches out on impulse and takes Y/N’s hand. He can feel the blood pumping through their veins, the same certainty as being able to press his fingers against a locked door and know exactly how to break in. This is Luke’s next great trick, but he thinks he’d like to do it right.
“Alright, then,” Luke says at last, “Let’s try again.”
pjo taglist: @w1shes43
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tiny-tini-imagines · 8 months
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Oh, hello— gosh dang a new writer? Instant support, sending love— mate, your writing Is awesome. Could I ask for a Legolas hc? (Lemme hop on the Legolas chain for a sec— his dad’s taking up way too much space in the back compartment—) Legolas with an elf s/o who.. ‘isn’t like other elves..’?’ OKAY— it may sound ridiculous but hold on— like an elf that does thing differently from other? You know how elves are usually quite regal and stuff.. has their priorities straight, mild mannered and all that?— take all that, and throw it out the window. Bc this elf believes that they should live their long-ass life span to the fullest and not really think too hard on how other view them and such? Chaotic and all that, but down to earth? The total opposite of what a normal elf would act.
Feel free to ignore this (and my incessant rambling) have a nice day!
Hey! Thank you so so so much for your support and kind words. I'm so happy that you enjoyed my writing, and let me tell you - I absolutely love your request! Funny enough, I once started a ff with a human character as Legolas s/o who had no manners, but imagining it with an elf sounds even cooler. Hope that's what you had in mind...
Headcanons - Lord of the rings
summary: Legolas and a s/o non typical elf
(added: what they would say to them, or about them)
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Initial Antipathy: At first, Legolas might not get along too well with them, finding their chaotic and unpredictable nature somewhat jarring compared to his usual elven decorum.
Protective Streak: Despite their incredible strength and speed, Legolas can't help but feel protective of them. They often worry about their safety, which leads to some tension in their interactions. (They often insist that they don't need Legolas's protection and can handle themselves, telling him to go and take care of himself, but it's their way of shielding their true feelings for them.)
"Their strength and resilience are astounding, and I find myself in awe of their ability to face danger head-on, even when it terrifies me."
Eloquent Disagreements: Legolas and his elf s/o have a fair share of passionate disagreements, especially in the beginning. They engage in eloquent debates where they challenge each other's perspectives, making their interactions both fiery and intellectually stimulating. Anyway, Legolas would often find himself speechless, because they don't mince their words and says what they really think, over time he gets used to it and likes it a little bit more, especially since he can't afford to speak like them as the Prince of Mirkwood .
"I must respectfully disagree. While your unorthodox approach is certainly intriguing, I believe tradition and preservation of elven customs hold their own merit in our world." - legolas in an arguement between them
Archery Lessons: One way Legolas tries to bridge the gap between their personalities is by offering archery lessons. He's patient as he teaches them, finding solace in the shared moments at the archery range. (They might not be too good in archery, but have a very unique and stunning way to handle their sword.)
Language: They're known for their sometimes rude language, (which Gimli secretly appreciates). Legolas would just shake his head from time to time, but secretly thinking that it's kind of brave.(Legolas understands that this is their way of expressing emotions. He appreciates the sincerity behind their words and actions.)
Revealing Their Feelings: Eventually, it's them who reveals their feelings first, unable to contain their affection any longer. Legolas is taken by surprise but soon reciprocates with their own heartfelt admission. (They would say it in a very untypical way for an elf, maybe even curse, after Legolas has put himself in unnecessary danger, and pull him into a tight embrace in an unelvish way)
Surprise and Stunned Silence: Legolas is initially taken completely by surprise. He's used to elven decorum and the more reserved expressions of affection, so their outburst catches him off guard.
Conflicting Emotions: He experiences a whirlwind of emotions in that moment - surprise, confusion, but mostly a deep warmth in his heart.
S/o: "Damn! By the stars, Legolas! What were you thinking you fool, charging in like that? I thought I lost you, stupid elf!" They exclaim, their voice laced with worry and frustration, a slip of affectionate concern coloring their words. They immediately pull him in a tight embrace Legolas: His eyes widen in surprise at their outburst, the genuine worry in their tone catching him off guard. "I... I did not mean to cause you such distress. But know that my heart swells with gratitude for your concern."
The Impact of Danger: The fact that their confession comes after he put himself in unnecessary danger makes Legolas acutely aware of the depth of their concern and love for him. It's a realization that touches him deeply. + (This moment reinforces his protective instinct. Legolas becomes even more committed to keeping them safe, knowing how deeply they care for him.)
After Revealing Feelings: After their feelings are out, they share tender moments amidst their chaotic adventures. Legolas becomes more understanding of their free-spirited nature, and they appreciate his unwavering support.
"Meeting you has been the greatest adventure of my life, and I look forward to many more chapters of our story together."
Bridging Differences: As their love deepens, they learn to appreciate each other's strengths and differences. Legolas discovers that their boldness complements his wisdom, and he becomes more open to spontaneity.
Shared Adventures: Legolas is drawn to their adventurous spirit. He finds himself relishing the excitement of their escapades, even if they often involve unconventional ways and risks. (They have an insatiable thirst for adventure and are always dragging Legolas into daring escapades and exploration.)
Meeting Thranduil: Legolas knows that introducing his s/o to his father, Thranduil, won't be easy. The King of Mirkwood has high expectations for his son's choice and wants him to make a more traditional choice for a partner, but eventually, even Thranduil comes to admire their fierce independence and the happiness she brings to Legolas. + (They absolutely refuse to bow or show deference to anyone, not even to the King of Mirkwood. Their boldness both amuses and confounds Legolas and Thranduil.)
"Ada, I must admit, they are unlike any elf I have ever known. Their spirit is untamed, their heart bold, and they defy convention in a way that is both bewildering and strangely admirable."
Balancing Act: Their relationship is a delightful balancing act between Legolas's regal upbringing and their chaotic, down-to-earth approach to life. Together, they bring out the best in each other, forging an unbreakable bond.
Appreciation of Imperfection: Through his s/o, Legolas learns to appreciate imperfection and the beauty life's unpredictability. He discovers that perfection is not always the most fulfilling path.
"In your presence, I've come to understand that there is beauty in imperfection, and I cherish every moment we share, even when chaos reigns around us."
Respect for Individuality: Legolas deeply respects their individuality and appreciates the fact that they don't conform to typical elven norms. He admires their strength of character and their willingness to be true to themselves.
Encouragement and Support: He is a source of unwavering encouragement and support for them. Legolas understands that their unconventional approach to life is a part of what makes them special, and he never tries to change or suppress it.
A Gentle Hand: He has a gentle and caring touch, especially when it comes to tending to any injuries or scrapes they may acquire during their daring exploits (and especially since they're a bit chaotic and maybe somtimes even clumsly when paying too much attention to Legolas and not their surroundings.) Legolas takes great care in ensuring their well-being. (They would not admid that they need help at first, so Legolas does it without any words or asking, always making sure they're all right.)
Affectionate Gestures: Legolas is not one to shy away from showing affection. He expresses his love through tender gestures, whether it's a soft touch, a warm smile, or an embrace. However, the moment his s/o started feeling comfortable showing off their relationship, they'd often hug Legolas thightly (sometimes to his surprise, but he secretly enjoys them a lot).
Hair: He'd let them play with his hair, but don't expect them to braid it, since they can't do it and it would just get tangled (Legolas tried to teach them, but gave up after several attempts.) However he would sometimes braid their hair, if they asked him, tho they mostly like to keep it open
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artist-issues · 3 months
Note
this my sound silly, but do you have any advice on how you come up with something to say for a story?
I think you're right that good art has something to say and communicates it well. That's certainly true of every story I've ever loved.
But while I love inventing fantasy worlds, you've made me realize I've never actually planned to say anything with them.
I've got lots of opinions, lots of beliefs, lots of stuff to say, but now that I realize I need to, it's been hard to pick one of those to be the core point of a story.
the trouble is, the dominant writing advice I saw online was the opposite. that stories made for the purpose of communicating a message or promoting something just turn into preachy propaganda, so the best way to make a good story (that, dare I invoke the curse, appealed to a wider audience) was to muddy it so you could take away as many interpretations from it as possible. thus most of the material I've given myself to work with has been slightly poisoned.
I really like how you said all of that! I agree with your assessment of the advice most people give.
Here's how I do it:
A loose concept, like a disgraced knight falling in love with the King's head of staff who's come to live in the village he's hiding in, will pop into my brain. I'll like the concept. I'll imagine one or two interactions between them that I just like.
But when it comes time to write anything down, even just for my own notes—then it's time to find a message. And usually that's not hard, or at least, that's not disingenuous, because:
what I believe, my worldview, was already subliminally shaping the things that I liked.
So then as I go to write down the names, the histories, the plot points, of my fun little knight love story idea, I find that something kind of...readily fits them.
But now here's the catch; it really helps to know what you believe, and to feel strongly about it, for all of that to come as naturally as possible.
About Propaganda "versus" Stories:
It's a lie to say that something which is created to say something is always propaganda, and something which is created with no careful point thought out is always art. Silly thing to believe. It's like saying "all words are propaganda." No, all words are communication. It's not our fault they don't like that we know what we want to say, and we want them to understand it clearly.
I mean. All art is propaganda, if by "propaganda" or "preachy" you mean, "I tried to take what was going on in my head & heart and put it in your head & heart." All art, all storytelling, is that. Otherwise you'd just keep what you think and feel bouncing around in your own brain, instead of doing anything outward (writing, drawing, painting, singing, speaking, reacting with your body language) with it.
I think what people are getting at when they say "avoid being preachy" or "that's not art, it's propaganda" is "you weren't being genuine." And that can be true. Sometimes people can tack a meaning onto a movie or a story where it doesn't fit because they either a) don't believe that strongly in the thing themselves, but everyone around them was clamoring for it or b) they were lazy and didn't do the work to make the story fit, genuinely, with the message, in a way that enhances and makes the message winsome.
But as bad as those two mistakes are, neither of them prove that intending to say something with your story, very carefully and genuinely, that you don't want misinterpreted, is somehow a bad thing.
Look at the fairy tales that the Brothers' Grimm collected. Look at any stories from the time before commercialism: Our oldest stories combined genuine enjoyment with the virtues and meanings that made enjoyment possible/worthwhile.
Anyway. I have a feeling you agree with me already about this so I'll hop down off that soap box.
What Comes First: Having Fun Making What You Like, or Choosing Something to Say?
I don't think it is wrong to tell a story that...you didn't have an intended thesis written down for. I think people like J.R.R. Tolkien and Walter Elias Disney prove that. But the thing is, what they believed got infused into their storytelling, because of course it did. It can't help it. When you want the audience to like your lead character, you make her likeable—but the traits you think are likeable are informed by something.
Snow White is innocent and pure because Walt Disney naturally considered those things beautiful and good and worth liking. He probably didn't even think to write it down and revolve everything around it: it just came out that way.
Frodo is a little scholar, and willing to soldier on with what little he can do, despite his lack of experience, because those are character traits Tolkien felt were good and likeable. Why? Because deep down, in his worldview, he believes being book-smart and doing what you can with what you have is valuable. And that just...comes out, much like his valuing of history, in the thing he creates.
Now, if they didn't know what they believed--or if they were insecure people "blown about by every wind of false doctrine" that comes their way--or if they were focused more on satisfying what the largest number of people liked--they wouldn't have been able to infuse the story with any genuine meaning, planned-out or natural.
That's what I think.
I think it's all a matter of loving what's good and true. Training your affections, so that you care most about things that are worth caring about—the things you feel most strongly about in characters will be the things you feel most strongly about in life. I love Stitch because I love redemption. Not primarily because I love sci-fi characters, the color blue, or the blend of ugly-and-cute—even though I do like those things on a more minor scale. See?
But if you've trained your affections for junk food—you feel most strongly appreciative of characters that are hot, or spout off funny one-liners, or come onscreen to cool music—then that's what will naturally come up in your own storytelling.
There's also nothing wrong with doing it the other way; saying you want to teach a certain lesson, and then coming up with characters and settings to fit that lesson. Coming at it from that direction is just as valid—as long as you put in the work, and care more about that lesson you genuinely believe in than you do what other people think.
Anyway,
To Write Your Own Main Point/Thesis/Armature/Theme
When it’s time to start writing anything down, it’s time to figure out the main point, and that’s when I...typically think about what I'd want to teach the kids I'm around, to be honest.
With my disgraced-knight love story, I go "what is it he loves about the girl, in all those vague vibe-y scenes I’ve been picturing?" And I make the connection between her virtuous character traits to what I want him, the main character, to learn.
So for example, she used to live in the palace, working for the King, but she was humble enough to give all that up and live in a no-name town to take care of her stepfather. He's disgraced and doesn't want anyone to know who he is—well, that's a pride issue, totally the opposite of how humble his love interest is. And why’s she humble? Because she’s not focused on herself. She doesn’t care about her own reputation or status. So then I just reverse engineer that: the point of the story is "Live in the King's name, not your own." Now one of the two main characters embodies that—the other has to learn it, and the story is the obstacle course he’s pushed through to get there.
I wasn't consciously thinking about making her the king's former head of staff, or him disgraced, when I first came up with the vague concept of the story, see? I just liked the "vibe" of a hopeless dude suddenly seeing a ray of light in the "vibe" of a girl from poor circumstances who seems happy regardless of them. I liked that "vibe." Then I traced what I liked about the vibe back to something that is true and worth teaching or appreciating in real life.
I’m in a job I don’t love right now, and it could make me miserable, but if I just remember “in everything you do, whether in word or in deed, do for the glory of the Lord,” then my focus isn’t on myself and I have joy and hope. And that hope can be used to point others, around me, to hope, too. So I’m not “preaching” something disingenuous; I’m living it, because this is what I believe, so no wonder it’s also leaking it’s way into my story. I just happen to be creating a pipe so that the leak flows more smoothly, which can only help, in the long run.
But I’ve done it other ways, too. Once I watched kind of from afar as a friend’s family fell apart. I felt like, from the outside, I could see where one of my friends was hurting and what they needed to accept (from the Bible) to move forward, but I wasn’t in a position to say it to my friend directly. Then I figured, “if my one friend is going through this situation, others probably are too, and this lesson from the Bible is universal anyway” so I…made up an analogy for the way their family fell apart, then came up with an ending that taught the “family” in the analogy the lesson I got from the Bible. So for that, you can see how I first came up with the main point, then built up characters and a world and a story to fit around it.
Both ways work, the chicken or the egg first. But they only work if you are committed to working hard and serving others with your story, not committed to being popular or “only making what YOU like.”
Make sense? I hope so! Thank you for the question!
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mimiwritcs · 11 months
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FIGHT FOR YOU (1/?)
FANDOM: Divergent
PAIRING: Eric Coulter x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: this is after four+eric's initiation and before tris'. this will be the build up of the characters as we got introduced to them as well as maybe the society. not just a love story but we aim for characters' growth and storytelling.
WORDS: 2.6K
A/N: not only my first time writing on this fandom but also in general in a very long time. kinda letting myself go with the flow. bc the best writing is just writing and letting the story tell itself ;) took 5 days and 3 drafts to complete this, so hopefully muse isn't too off by the end of it lmao if anyone loses time of their day to read this, hope you like it & thank youu <3
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You were shocked by what you had done. You couldn't think due to Dauntless' ovations. WHAT DID YOU JUST DO? Before turning over to your new faction, you took a few steps back to observe how your blood blended with the scalding coals. Some Dauntless approached you and whispered "congratulations" or "hi" before one left their seat to you in the front row and slipped into the back to see the rest of the ceremony.
You didn't regret your choice. That's what you had to do. It was really startling to learn on the aptitude test that you were Dauntless rather than Erudite. Did you always think Dauntless was the coolest faction to be at? Yeah. Did you think you could be strong enough to be a part of it? Hell no. Your first emotion was not fear but respect towards it. You felt like a fish out of water. This was something you never expected. 95% of the initiatives belonged to the faction to which they were born. How the hell were you the one chosen to be into the 5%? You were unsure, but a spark had ignited within you after that.
You were unable to stop thinking about it. Did you believe you can handle it? You were unsure. Yet, how could they possibly have failed? All of their propaganda to believe the ceremony and the test to become who you genuinely are rather than who you wish you were. In the Choosing Ceremony, you weren't fully certain about your choice. Erudite was always so intelligent and clear, but you were always doubting it. Guess it was true, you were not part of the faction. They really did say something prior that caused you to make a last-minute choice change. You couldn't be where you weren't meant to be. You had something inside of you that had the potential to blossom into Dauntless, and you couldn't survive without discovering what it was. Could you have securely remained in Erudite without letting anyone know your result? Sure. Even if you weren't yet aware of your inner Dauntless, you still needed to remain true to yourself.
So you swallowed it and moved your hand swiftly just as the first drop of blood entered the Erudite bowl. You apologized while looking for your parents' eyes amid the crowd. They certainly did not anticipate it. You adored your parents and were aware of how much both of you would miss each other after you were gone. However, they would comprehend. They would have to. Even if they could never have imagined making this choice, you know they would. Faction before blood. Because you were so preoccupied with your thoughts, you hardly notice the rest of the ceremony. Knowing that you had made the right choice for yourself and would have to live with it, with your truth, you were able to relax. Wasn't that a brave thing to do anyway? You choose the reality, throwing yourself into the unknowing rather than staying safe where you were. Guess you belonged there too.
As soon as the Ceremony finished, all factions started to orderly march in turns. However, the tranquility was short-lived. The moment everyone reached the front door, all Dauntless began to scream and flee. Confused, you changed a few looks with some new transfer Dauntless like yourself. You were grinning as everyone applauded, and you began to run with them into the city, feeling as liberated as you had ever been. After being stiff for so long in the ceremony, it felt exhilarating to be able to move your body, running and jumping with everyone else. It also seemed like everyone was celebrating a new beginning, their arrival. And before you knew it, they were claiming up to the train station.
After attentively observing a few of the more experienced members, you started to follow them. You didn't want to be the last person to give it a go or the final one to fall short. You had heard so many rumors and of course, Dauntless had to be tough. We needed them to look out for us. They were necessary. But even on the first day, they were giving you a brutal workout; could this be typical of their routine? God, you had to get fitter if you wanted to keep going without stopping for breath.
What you were unaware of was that this was merely the beginning. Although you were aware that you would need to undergo training in order to match their level of toughness and fitness, you didn't anticipate that this would serve as your welcome to the faction. You started hearing and seeing the train speeding into your way, and before you realized what the intentions were, you were shocked they were doing this to the newbies. You thought they must have started training them to jump in and out of trains moving at slower speeds. But you guessed not. After someone pulled you slightly to the side, so they could continue racing with their Dauntless colleagues, you snapped out of your thoughts. You began to run as well, and you watched people pulling themselves onto the wagon by helping themselves by grabbing the door handle.
As you approached, you stumbled into the wagon just barely before pushing yourself to the side to make room for others and in an effort to catch some air. You were trying to control your breathing by looking at the ground, when suddenly, you notice how a girl bumps into you.
"OUCH" you both exclaim, as she moves away from her towards the door, you quickly get up.
"Sorry, I didn't even-" the black girl starts to speak.
"No, don't worry, I've made the same landing, I hope it gets better with time" you smile at her as you offer your hand to help her get up and out of the way, as you see a teammate who has to do wonders to avoid walking on her. "My name is Y/M" you introduce yourself.
"Winter, nice to meet you" she smiles at you as she takes your hand and she stands up. Yellow cloths. Amity. "What a welcome" Winter whispers, it wasn't a complaint, but from her tone it wasn't a compliment either and you understood it. You were just as tired.
As Winter struggled to catch her breath, you started to gaze inside your wagon. You noticed that both initiates and adults were conversing in a corner with other Dauntless companions, and that the color that stuck out the most was white. Candor. There was no one from Erudite that you recognized when you tried to look around the wagon. You now wish that you had paid closer attention to the ceremony to learn the identities of your new colleagues. You imagine you'd learn the answer quite quickly.
"Why are we moving towards Abnegation?" asked a boy from Candor who was standing close to you but whom you had overlooked.
You couldn't believe it; this was your first time riding a train, and you were preoccupied with the interior rather than the outside scenery. You turned around and scan the area. Winter mused, and you nodded. "Perhaps they are giving us the difficult route; try to picture the landscape a bit; after all, we will have to travel a lot. That, or just give us time to catch our breath." The three of you laughed as she spoke.
"At least I'm glad all of us transferees are equally dying." The boy replied sincerely. "I don't think much could have trained us for this." Winter continued. "Yeah, but that's what initiation is for, I'm sure we'll all learn how to uncover our advantages", you said.
The three of you stood there in silence watching the train as it accelerated forward, away from Abnegation and toward the fence, with distant views of Amity's factories.
"It's fantastic, I've never seen this far from the city" Remarked a girl as she left a big group and headed towards the unoccupied window in front of them to get a better view. White clothes, she was Candor too. "It's lovely, I've never seen so much green combined" You added as you got closer to see better next to her, and you felt that your companions did the same. "Nature is what I'll miss the most." Winter introduced herself, and the girl turned to greet her. While she was looking at all of us, she began to call her name, "Cor-" but when her gaze landed next to her faction mate, she tightened up a little. "Alvin"
You noticed he hadn't introduced himself, therefore that was his name. She received a little bow from Alvin with his head, "Corinne" The girl grinned at him and said, "There was no question that you were going to be a Dauntless." "Yeah, I can't say the same about you." He said, a little dryly, there was some friction because these two weren't exactly best buddies. You cut the conversation short, "Nice to meet you Corinne, I'm Y/M," and Corinne smiled at you, seemingly thanking you for the change of subject. "Likewise. Hey Winter, your lands are huge, aren't they?", she asked.
"Yes, but this is just a portion. We only come here to labor and gather some supplies. Our primary land is located in the northern part of the city. Although you can't see how huge it is from a train because we've already passed it all, this train moves quickly", she said, and you agreed. You had read a lot about Amity, so you were familiar with everything. "Yeah, we're already heading back to the city, so I guess it won't be long for us to go down" You said.
And before you knew it, the three of you females started chit-chatting about your prior lives while Alvin quietly left to find other company. After a while you started hearing knowing on metal and scanned the wagon looking at one of the Dauntless members trying to get everyone's attention. "Stop talking, we're almost there,"
And suddenly it was over. Everyone began to jump once more. Winter continued to whine, but there was no time for it. The train was going quickly, there was not much time to second guess if you didn't want to miss it. You gave a side smile and noted out of resignament before crossing over to the other side in an effort to gain speed as you impulsively leaped.
Your body felt the shock of your short fall on the roof, but you were unharmed. Adrenaline running through your body. Corinne and Winter fell exactly next to you, and as your eyes crossed, you both couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of the scenario. Even though this was crazy, you were okay. And going forward, everything will be easier, or so you believed.
The three of you stood up and made your way over to the large group that was assembling on the opposite side, where one boy was standing on top of the roof and giving everyone a somber look over his shoulder. "Alright, listen up. My name's Eric. I am one of the leaders of your faction. Several floors below us is the entrance for the members of our compound. If you can't muster the will to jump, you don't belong here." Specifically focusing on those who stood out the most in the crowd of people wearing black clothing—transferred people like you—he said, "Initiates any volunteers?" Despite the fact that, in your opinion, you shouldn't have to prove yourself, he was putting you to the test.
Everyone turned to look when a familiar male voice shouted "Me" As soon as you laid your eyes onto him, you recognized him. Milan. Fellow Erudite like you. His transfer wasn't a surprise, everyone could tell Erudite wasn't his place, but you weren't paying enough attention at the Ceremony following your turn to observe his entry. After all these changes, you both attempted to greet a familiar face as he passed between you by exchanging glances and nodding slightly to one another as you smiled awkwardly.
Although you couldn't see Milan's face, you could tell when he lost confidence and his shoulders stiffened as he looked at the darkness beneath him. He took a moment to inhale deeply and jumped. But once he did everyone carefully stayed in silence as if that would help them hear better any sign of his existence. Other few seconds passed and a fellow Dauntless-born stepped out to the edge to jump off without thinking with a smile on her face and at that moment, you realized. There could not be something dangerous down there, what could be the point of losing all their new members? After that realization, you relaxed your shoulders and as a Candor member started to climb into the edge, you started making your way to the edge as the fourth volunteer.
You took advantage of the small amount of time while the third jumper was jumping to get a better look at one of your new leaders, Eric, and his colleagues who were standing to the side. He definitely had a Pug face that was at ease. His thick black tattooed stripes on his neck and pierced brows gave him a decidedly unfriendly appearance. Was it just his demeanor, or did he have to put on an act to lead initiatives? All the other Dauntless teammates were equally intimidating-looking and well-groomed. You recall how fantastical you always thought they were when you were little. So tall and powerful, covered in so many tattoos. You've always questioned whether they altered the new initiatives, chose their new look and suddenly they became fearless. Before the Aptitude Test, you had trouble picturing anybody from Erudite as Dauntless. As you grew older, you came to know how absurd that notion was, and as you stood a few feet from their position, you were aware that everything was about to unfold for you.
When the leader looked up after checking the bottom of the hole, he discovered your eyes were fixed on him. He turned his head as a signal for Next, and you immediately ascended and looked below. Knowing that you were about to leap off to nothing made for a definitely terrifying-looking vista. However, there couldn't be nothing there. You simply knew it. You inhaled deeply before making a leap of faith.
And despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but tighten up as you descend under the hole swiftly. Soon you were struck with something that coins the impact. A net. There's a fucking net. Your body unwinds, and you begin to chuckle. You were beginning to understand the significance of this. Looking around, you see someone attempting to assist you. Quickly turning to the edge with his assistance, you roll out. The man asks, "Your name? You cannot change it after the fact, so consider your options carefully," he said with a warm smile. However, there was nothing you were running after. You didn't need a fresh start just to keep growing. "Y/M" You grinned, he nodded, and you followed his eyes as he turned to look at another Dauntless member who appeared to be in charge of arranging the group of your fellow initiatives as well as a group of people standing behind whom, based on their behavior, you assumed didn't want to miss this.
When the man who pulled you out of the net announced you as the fourth jumper, the gathering of people from your new group applauded you on, and you raised your fist in celebration as you joined the others who had jumped prior.
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“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”
Fanonwriter2023 on AO3
Where CANON and FANON collide!
Season 7 FANON Speculation: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”
Chapter 19 is now available on AO3.
This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!
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“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”
Currently 19 chapters completed: 718.8K Words; Rated: Mature
One chapter will be posted at a time.
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Here are two emotionally angsty snippets from Chapter 19 of a conversation Buck has with Margaret and Phillip and a separate one Eddie has with Helena and Ramon. 👀
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Buck
Buck can tell Margaret’s on the verge of losing it and in a matter of moments, he’s sure he’ll see the remnants of her becoming completely unglued.
In true Phillip fashion, he tries to prevent it from happening when he says, “Yes Evan, please answer your mother.  How do you even know who he is because we never told you about him?”
Buck’s not surprised by his actions at all especially since he witnessed their dynamic the entire time he was growing up in Hershey.
“I know you didn’t but I found him anyway.  I have two dads and he’s one of them!”  He says a little louder than he intends to but he really doesn’t give a rat’s ass if they’re offended by it or not because it had to be said.
How will Buck's conversation with Margaret and Phillip end? 👀
~~~
Eddie
Eddie shakes his head in disbelief but he remains determined to speak his piece.  “Mom, I’m sorry you feel that way and I want you to know that I didn’t want this.  Based on your response, it seems like you believe it is but who wants to go “no contact” with their mother?  Certainly not me and I don’t believe Soph and Adri do either but you’ve left me no choice.  I’m hoping it’ll be temporary but I’ve said what I’m about to say so many times that I sound like a broken record to myself.”
He pauses when he hears her gasp.
After a few seconds he admits, “You don’t listen to me; you disregard everything I say because everything either has to be your way or the highway but unfortunately for you… my life is not yours to control.  I’m a 34-year-old adult man with a 13-year-old son and a fiancé.  Buck and I are getting married but you did nothing but dismiss and disrespect him while you were here.  You treated Chris like he was a baby and I’ve repeatedly reminded you that he’s not 7 years old anymore.”
“You should be trying to find Christopher a mother.”  Helena snaps back.
“Mom!  Whether you believe it or not my son has two dads!  Me and Buck!”
How will Eddie's conversation with Helena and Ramon end? 👀
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This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!
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Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.
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Chapter Summaries
Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.
Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.
Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.
Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.
Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.
Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.
Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.
Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.
Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.
Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.
Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.
Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.
Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.
Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?
Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.
Chapter 16 - As Buck and Eddie begin to prepare for their marriage ceremony that will take place in Rome, Italy in December 2023, they start planning their first international adventure as a romantic couple. Even though Chris is still the only person they’ve told about their relationship, several people who know them have already witnessed the love they share and as the days continue, others will witness it too.
Chapter 17 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to departing Los Angeles for their international adventure, a moment in time will remind them; life is fragile, tomorrow isn’t promised and every second of everyday should be cherished because everything can change in an instant. The result of that realization will cause them to hold onto each other even more.
Chapter 18 - As Buck, Eddie and Chris prepare for family gatherings before and during the Thanksgiving holiday, the “Santa Ana Winds” start to blow and all sorts of expected and unexpected familial drama ensues.
Chapter 19 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to their wedding day, the universe begins to align everything so that some of their parent and children's relationships are strengthened while others come to an abrupt end.
Chapter 20 - Will be posted soon.
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Read chapters 1-19 are available on AO3.
Continue reading on AO3
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simslegacy5083 · 2 days
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NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 9 Ep 78: Awkwardness, Overcome
Luigi was so wrapped up in wrestling with responsibility and morality that just like with his father, he didn’t notice Noemi until she sat down next to him.
He looked up in confusion; desperately glad to see her but embarrassed to be in such poor shape. Her wince when she got a good look at his face didn’t help put him at ease. “You have quite the shiner there, friend. It’s not too late for us to bail if your family isn’t as friendly as you thought.”
Luigi gingerly reached up, grimacing as his fingers met the bruised and swollen skin encircling his right eye, all the while struggling to process that Noemi was really here and that she’d said us. “I guess I must look like the monster I really am right now, but even I’m not evil enough to ditch Dad tonight.”
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“Evil!?” she asked. “Whatever gave you that idea?” Luigi explained about the fight with Leroy, Amaya's angry words, his father's disappointment, and his larger secret shame. “I really hurt Beau. Am I going to keep hurting people because I can’t control myself?”
Noemi shook her head “You are a lot of things, but evil certainly isn’t one of them. Just the fact that you feel so terrible about what happened with Beau proves that.” When his downtrodden expression didn’t shift, she gently squeezed his hand and decided to try a different approach.
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Turning playful Noemi said in a sing song voice: “Ooo look out, I’m evil Luigi! I’ll defend my friends from your insults and then become your co-captain and maybe best friend on the team! I’m so mean I have tons of friends and… she looked meaningfully through the window at the dancing and laughing crowd inside … way too many relatives who want to party with me.”
She made vampire hands to snatch at the now bemused Luigi who was watching her tirade with a much more put upon, but much less pitiful, look.
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Noemi smiled as Luigi chuckled, feeling much better after her lighthearted show. “Thank you for that. I guess you’re right, maybe I’m not evil, but I obviously have some work to do controlling this stupid temper and making a better habit of repairing relationships like I did with Beau.”
Luigi knew that making amends for bad behavior wasn't the same as not causing the trouble in the first place, but saying sorry to those he’d hurt was a step in the right direction. He resolved to reach out to Bryon on Social Bunny one day soon and apologize for that whole mess as well.
Noemi agreed “There’s always room for personal growth. That’s… actually why I decided to come here after all.”
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Now serious she explained “Luigi, I’m so sorry. Social situations are so hard for me, and this big wedding is terrifying. After you left that night, I tried to tell myself it was for the best, but I couldn't get you out of my head. The silent apartment you left behind taunted me with every empty room.”
“I looked at the future I was headed for and I didn’t like it one bit. I don’t want to end up a recluse afraid of crowds, but most importantly I don’t want to end up without YOU. It took me forever to find the courage, but I decided to come here and get my boyfriend back. Assuming you’re still willing to introduce us to your family that way.”
Luigi’s expression morphed into an excited smile. “Are you kidding?! You show up, turn my misery into happiness once again, and offer everything I wished for! I’d like nothing better than to take my girlfriend inside and show her around.”
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Rising Noemi took a deep breath, muttering nervously “Let’s get this over with.” Luigi leaped up to embrace her, grinning like a fool.
“I’ll be there for you every second, and if all those hours of Sims Forever have taught me anything, it’s how to come up with a story to explain away an unusual situation!” They walked inside hand in hand, shocking his parents with his transformed mood and even more unexpectedly altered date.
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True to his word, Luigi spun truth and lies into a smooth explanation. Meeting and discovering they shared a major at Harvestfest, their friendship deepening over time, and the awkwardness Noemi felt about meeting everyone again causing them to keep it all a secret until now.
His elders took the whole thing in stride. Peachy joked “there’s nothing wrong with keeping it in the family!” while Valentina simply said, “its lovely to see you again dear”.
With that hurdle overcome at last, Luigi led his reclaimed lady to the dance floor. Just like before that fatefulHarvestfestdinner he was excited to take their relationship to the next level now that they were out of hiding and Noemi was finally free of the burdens of the past.
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View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here
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dayedreamm · 4 months
Text
Unexpected Crushes Chapter 2
blk fem OC x paige bueckers
warnings: swearing (i think)
Chapters: 1 | 2 |
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“Wait uconn” imani says kind of shock “thats far from where you are” she says sadly. Although talia continues “yeah it is but… Ipromise we will talk and we could even possibly meet up one day Ipromise “ she says to reassure you.
flashback ends
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 I believed her… we were friends at the time…I mean who wouldnt believe their true best friend right? 
Well I shouldn't have.
4 months later
Welp im here now at uconn. Friendless. Betrayed. Alone. 
“Cheer up kid you'll make new friends here, i never really liked talia anyway” my mother says to reassure me. I gave her a so-so nod as if agreeing with her statement i was tired, the drive down here was no joke and now I wanted to sleep. Sadly I still had to unpack in my dorm.. Maybe my roommate wont be here and i wont have any human interaction. Wrong. We walked in my mother helping with my bags, and im am greeted with a smiling girl with her dreads in a ponytail. ‘Great … just how i wanted to start off the day’ I thought to myself “hi nice to meet you my name is kamora but everyone calls me KK” she says cheerfully. I tried not to be a bitch my roomate sounded nice and I should reciprocate that same feeling. “Hey my name is Imani” i said trying to sound as cheerful. I could feel my mothers stares behind me telling me to fix my face but i tried the best i could. Getting stabbed in the back by your best friend didnt exactly put a smile on your face. Although, it was months later and i should be getting better. So i guess ill try now with this new roomate. 
1 week later
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(here are some inspos of what i was thinking)
Once i finished i headed off to the game with one of my friends from my business class. We walked to the pavilion and grabbed some seates a bit early so we could see the game better. As we took our seats they were nearing the end of their warmups as KK waves to me with a little smile on her face, i smile and wave back, but not before a curious blonde sees this interaction and questions it.
Paige POV
I see my teammate and one of my besfriends KK smile and wave toward the audience, and when i turn my eyes i am met with a beautiful woman. I mean she stole my whole attention for a good 5 seconds before kk had to grab my shoulder. “Yo you good” KK says to me. “Yea im fine, whos that girl you were waving to” i said a bit dazed. “Oh thats my roommate, who is also my friend shes really cool you should meet her.. I think she might also be your type” KK says excitedly wiggling her eyebrows. I punch her arm teasingly, i cant even say shes lying this girl is very attractive and certainly has my attention. “Whats her n-” but before i could even ask the question our coach geno calls us over for a team huddle. I jog my way over but not before looking at her and winking in her direction.
Imani POV
I look back at the courts to see a blonde staring at me and sending a wink over my way, she was very attractive and had me blushing in my seat, which i think she knew because she smirked and turned away. “Oooh someones got a crush” one of my friends says in my ear. I jump back at her words “who? Who are you talking about” i say defensively. “Obviously the blondie who was giving you googlie eyes down there” the same friend says to me. “You think shes hot atleast” my other friend asks me. “I obviously dont know her yet but if she is into girls i think shes pretty attractive, whats her name anyway” i ask out of curiosity
“Paige bueckers”
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ok bae was finally introduceddddd, also did yall see that chegg comercial she looked so good, but anyways thanks for reading
leave some suggestions of any imagines you may want
Dayedreammm outtie💖
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bisexual-horror-fan · 11 months
Note
Ugh it’s really late at night where I am and I can’t sleep and it just popped into my mind that I’m low-key terrified and excited to see what you’re gonna do with the third part of your Mickey-Randy fic. Is Mickey gonna go through with killing him? How will reader react if he does? Will she find out it’s Mickey? WILL MICKEY GET WHAT HE WANTS?
You best believe the moment you post it I’m locking myself in a dark ass room and telling my boyfriend to leave me tf alone for 3-5 business days
Well! I had the past two days off and I finished up this! For those who haven’t read part one or two of this trilogy I would recc that you do! Seriously, I never thought I would love doing this so much but I did! Massive shout out to @applesontheground for going over this and betaing pre-posting! Now then, I don’t wanna waste much time, I just wanna dive in and get deep! The long awaited conclusion of this trilogy is here! Let’s get deep in the paint!
Rating. Explicit. Length. 6.5K. Mickey Altieri And Randy Meeks X FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: So Much Context Needed. Threesomes. Sloppy Seconds. Cuckholding. Semi-Public Sex. Blow Job. Throat Fucking. Gagging. Stalking. Murder Plot. Murder. Blood. Gore. Angst. Hurt. Comfort. Death. Grief. Vaginal Sex. Kissing. Confessions Of Feelings. Manipulation. 
You Need Me Like I Need You.
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When did shit, namely, his life, get this fucking complicated? 
He used to think that sex was pretty straight forward, that he had a good handle on himself, his interests and personal sexuality, even before he brought anyone else into the equation but now all the lines are blurred and muddy. He never knew that it could all be so varied, which seems fucking stupid now. The human experience has untold and truly vast depth, of course sex, something that has existed as long as people themselves have existed, has a million different ways to explore, play with and partake in and Randy had been confronted with all that, thrown headfirst into it with almost no preparation. 
Randy has experienced impossibly high highs and some true lows, the emotional roller coaster of it all was a lot to handle but also, shamefully, addicting as hell. 
He didn’t know that there could be so much sexual enjoyment derived from such typically and previously negatively associated feeling, particularly, humiliation. He had experienced plenty of humiliation over the years and it always, well, fucking sucked but for some reason, when it cropped up again from that tape and subsequent threesomes with Mickey, it made his heart race in a different way, a much better, albeit, confusing way. 
When he first was confronted with that tape he was a mess, when you eventually pulled out what was wrong he was still a total mess, and during that first threesome, he was even more of one. Mickey was an almost intolerable asshole but he had to admit, the things he did to you, the view and picture you both provided him, undeniably hot, much better than any bargain basement dumpster porn tape he ever watched by far. He hated that every boundary he tried to lay down, like Mickey wearing a condom, was ignored. Even further, the disrespecting of said boundaries were usually encouraged by you, as you seemingly craved it too. The shared wants between you and Mickey took precedence over his comfort and boundaries, he certainly didn’t do much to dissuade you both when he let it keep happening, especially when the evidence of how hard it made him was clear as day.
And the rules Mickey did agree to? It turns out he was lying, placating Randy to gain consent and access to you to then do what he wanted in the end. The worst of the worst is that when Randy had you afterwards, totally messy and stuffed with cum, literally subjected to Mickey’s sloppy seconds. It felt so fucking good that he couldn’t bring himself to have a single negative thing to say, any complaints die on his tongue as he buries his face into your neck and himself inside you to the hilt. 
Mickey said he would pull out, Mickey was apparently a fucking liar and when Randy was on his back afterwards, sweat slick and panting, still dizzy and high off the hardest orgasm he had in recent memory, he wanted to fucking thank the guy for making him do this and see how good it was. He would never actually thank him, Mickey’s ego was already approaching the size of a supernova from this situation as it was, he is sure if he thanked him for cumming in you when he asked him not to? He cannot imagine how much worse he would become. It doesn’t matter that true the experience was fucking great, the ignoring of his consent was screwed up, thanking him further sends the wrong message. 
So Randy put up with Mickey’s comments and overall attitude, he says he puts up with, but really he enjoys it, mostly secretly, he downplays his enjoyment but that damn knowing smirk of Mickey’s makes him think he isn’t as good an actor as he wants to be. 
This has been going on for a month. 
A glorious, confusion littered, fuck centered, sweat soaked and embarrassment filled month. In the moment and with his dick in his hand it is easier to take, he gets swept up in how filthy it is, finds himself consumed with your new relationship dynamic constantly. In the quiet moments between doing other things his mind wanders to either your last hookup or what might potentially happen in the next one. 
The last one he keeps on thinking about is a rather risky semi-public hookup, it was late, rushed, in the stairwell leading up to Randy’s apartment. The sight is burned into his mind, Mickey leaning against the wall, his fingers in your hair as he leads you while you are on your knees, blowing him, right in front of Randy. It is all so striking, so clear, as if it is still happening right in front of Randy when he thinks of it, the low light, the way Mickey’s head tips back and rests against the concrete wall. A bead of sweat rolls down the column of his throat, along with the bob of his Adam's apple from a heavy swallow he took after a harsh inhale of air. He hears the quiet moan, the curse that spills out as he rocks his hips to force himself deeper into your mouth, you gag, Mickey laughs breathlessly with that half sideways smirk and then, he looks at him. Mickey’s head no longer rests and instead brown eyes meet blue and that smile grows into an outright sadistic grin as he drives forward harder, more purposefully and the moan you let around the shaft invading your mouth makes Randy ache in his jeans.
Someone speaks to him, asks him a question and it pulls him out of his head, Christ, he wasn’t listening and he is far too hard over his walk down memory lane while stuck in class still. He needs to stop, he fucking hates himself for thinking and feeling like this so often. He especially hates himself for how he couldn’t wait and ended up cumming in that same stairwell a week previous during that hookup he was just pouring over, he has to fight back the urge to cringe thinking about whatever poor sap had to clean that up.  
True, while he is caught up in his head and consumed with all of this often, filled to the brim with negativity more than he’d like to be, things with you had gotten infinitely better. Your sex life together had gotten downright incredible in his opinion, he relishes the time he can be alone just you and himself without Mickey around. It isn’t as dirty as the threesomes you have, it’s softer, sweeter, more intimate and not as intense but he thinks you both need that. He has taken Mickey’s advice to heart and his fingering and oral skills have improved leaps and bounds, he loves when he is able to pull a sound out of you that reminds him of one Mickey has made you gasp out previously.  
He wasn’t sure how long this could or would go on for, it couldn’t last forever but this didn’t have to stop anytime soon, there wasn’t any reason to rush, right? Not when it felt so good and it seemed to be actively bettering and strengthening your relationship as opposed to harming it. So the worries are shoved aside, pushed to the back of his mind, a problem for future him.
Mickey is positively elated over how this has all panned out so far. He knew this stage would be fun, he just didn’t count on how much fun it could be. He got to not only fuck you, he got to humiliate Randy while he did it, being balls deep in you while you were moaning like a total whore and your pathetic cuck of a boyfriend was jerking off to it, making eye contact with the sad little redhead in that moment? Making him truly be confronted with the sight of what he could do to you? My lord, he is sure he will never need viagra when he is fifty plus, he can just recall that memory and be good to go. 
You were just so intoxicating, he thought he had it bad for you before he got to fuck you that first night Randy pissed you off but he was so wrong, it only got worse when he got to know you in the biblical sense. Now that he knows how you sound when he has two fingers angled just right inside of you, or how you feel when you are cumming on him, his interest grew into a full on crush and became infinitely worse. He couldn’t get you out of his head, how could he push it out of his mind or forget such an experience?
You were a delight, a joy to be around, so funny, so filthy and ready, willing and open. You got him, understood him, the sexual compatibility was a massive plus of course but it was more than that. It was the hushed whispers during class of dumb jokes that make you stifle laughter, it was shared lunches, and those times where you and he would end up crashing together post threesome and wake up side by side before Randy did. He knew you felt more for him than you were saying, the moments you would hold his hand when Randy wasn’t around told him that, the way you looked at him, would brighten when seeing him, it all tattled on your true feelings. He was sure of how you felt. 
Christ, he couldn’t wait until he could have you all to himself as opposed to having to carve out these small moments whenever Randy wasn’t hanging off you like he was doing his best impression of a koala bear. 
It was so soon. Mickey could hardly contain himself. The last thing standing between you and him being together is your boyfriend that you were still holding onto for some reason. Clearly it was out of some sense of loyalty, he liked that quality about you. So it means that he has to get rid of him and then you will be able to get with him guilt free, it’s the only thing that makes sense. The single option. 
You are more than worth him doing this, uprooting and changing his whole plan, Nancy had to go. She just did, no way would she understand or be on board, she was just a means to an end really, she bankrolled him sure but it isn’t like he was attached to her. He believed in his motive, in what he wanted but now that he had you, the idea of risking going to jail wasn’t high on his list of to-do’s. Maybe he could keep a low profile, maybe he would be satisfied being with you, having you and quietly killing people to satisfy those parts of himself from time to time. If he did go through with the original plan there is still a chance it might fail. Was he willing to risk even a slight chance of being separated from you? 
He is sure that the high he would get if he could pull it off, kill and spill his guts, blame the violence of movies and not go to jail would be immense, but then that part of his life would be over, that chapter closed. No way he could keep killing. Or, maybe he could, if he could keep getting away with it after that it would be amazing, however if caught that same plea wouldn’t work twice.
Perhaps the real high could be in never, ever getting caught. 
Between that and you, he might be just fine. 
He should feel worse, shouldn’t he? The thought was on his mind as he was cleaning his knife in the sink after putting an end to Nancy, he should feel something, but he just didn’t. Honestly seeing the look of betrayal on her face was priceless, she never would have thought Mickey would do this to her. She sobbed and begged, going on about how could Mickey do this to her, she needed to avenge her “sweet baby boy-” and yeah, he wasn’t going to listen to her go on about that. He didn’t waste much time on her, didn’t linger or monologue or go on and on, he made it relatively painless and pretty quick. 
The important thing is she was gone and now he could focus on killing Randy. 
Unlike his previous and now dead partner, he wanted to make it hurt, he wanted to destroy Randy, make him unrecognisable, but he knew that might not be best. Logical thought doesn't usually win out in these situations however. He hated how Randy took you for granted, he hated how you looked at him, that you insisted on staying together, hated every time he watched you kiss or anything else, he wanted to stab the knife into his chest, pierce his heart and twist. Wanted to watch him gasp, struggle, and bleed. 
He had a good handle on Randy’s schedule because of your arrangement, he is coming back from a late class, going back to his apartment while Mickey follows far enough behind to not alert him, yet. 
Ol’ Randy was so oblivious, he was going to make this way too easy. Mickey felt his anticipation grow with every single step, every heavy footfall makes his mind run with possibility and pure excitement.
He wanted to rush him, tackle him to the ground, end it right here out in the open but that is stupid and way too risky, it still doesn’t stop how his hands itch, he craved to have his knife in his grip, to bury it in something. The urge to penetrate in a violent sense and in a sexual sense are not that different and Mickey finds it so hard to ignore either of those urges. Soon it is just right, soon Randy is unlocking the door to his apartment building and Mickey picks up the pace, he runs forward, he timed it just right, the door opens and he knocks into Randy, causing him to stumble into the building with a shocked, “Woah!” 
With him totally off balance Mickey takes the opportunity, hand gripping the collar of his shirt behind his neck, he moves him, comes forward, hauling Randy along, he bursts into the stairwell door in the lobby, that same one that you all hooked up in. He is quickly throwing him with all of his strength against the stairs. It hurts his spine, knocks the wind out of him, he groans feeling slightly dazed and when his eyes open he sees the figure clad in that all too familiar black robe and white mask and his heart drops. Eyes widen and he curses, trying to scramble back on the stairs, “Shit, fuck-”
God he loved that look. Pure and unadulterated terror, totally horrified, there was only one way to make it better, Mickey pulled the knife out, the glint of the blade in the low light flashes over his face, it made Randy’s breath catch. He tried to bolt, tried to turn to launch himself up the stairs, towards the safety of his apartment, away from his would-be attacker and that wasn’t going to happen. Mickey was on him too fast, one hand threads in short red hair and he jerks his head back, making it slam on the concrete, the sound was sickening and it made his struggle so much weaker immediately. Mickey sat on his stomach, knees on either side of him, he took in the view below him. Randy was already bleeding from his head wound, scarlet starting to stain the concrete, holding his own head up weakly, his other hand reaching out, trying to push on Mickey’s torso feebly. 
He enjoyed this immensely. He watches him for a moment before it starts, it’s like the calm before a storm, like in the summer when you can feel a thunderstorm brewing, something in the air telling you what is to come, as if you can feel the electricity threatening to crackle and break though. 
He lingers for only a moment more, he knows he is pushing it, but fuck, he has wanted this for so long and when he started he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop. 
Finally the moment is just right, he raises the knife and there is zero hesitation, it comes down and comes down hard. It embeds into his shoulder first, the air is practically sucked out of Randy, eyes wide, his hand comes up to clutch near the blade but Mickey didn’t take too kindly to that. He twists it and a choked off whimper left Randy and then he yanks the knife up, pulling the blade out, the body below him moving with the force of it, back arching as the struggle to remove steel is won quickly. 
Randy is still trying to hold the wound at his shoulder but the angle is awkward and the pain is blinding, he doesn’t think anything could snap him out of the agony, his mind is running a million miles a second, synapses are firing but not connecting to anything. The urge to flee is strong but how? How can he get out, how can he get away, he is stuck, he hurts so much, what is he going to do? He thought he left all this behind in Woodsboro, he should have been more careful, he knew the threat, the risks, he should have taken that tape more seriously and realised he was being watched probably this entire time since he got said tape. 
It turns out there is one thing that can pull him out of his head and free him enough from the pain to speak, eyes come into focus as the hurt is numbed with what he is seeing. Ghostface is still seated on top of him and the fingers leave his hair, hand comes up and the mask is tugged off to reveal is pseudo sort of fuck buddy or more accurately, YOUR fuck buddy and the cucker to Randy’s cuckee’, Mickey fucking Altieri. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Randy wheezed out, a cough that sounded too wet coming out after the words left him, “Mickey?”
“Heya Randy.” He dropped the mask, gloved fingers ran through his own hair as he stared down at the body starting to struggle under him once more. It all comes to Randy at once, the cheating, the tape, the “coincidences”, the dark edges to him, the knowing looks, he is the killer, he is Ghostface. Of course he is. 
“What the fuck? Why-AHH!” Randy yelped as the knife came back down, settling in the other shoulder, he left it there, holding the handle as he said, “Oh why? Meeks wants to know why-” 
Mickey hums and grips the handle harder before starting to twist it slightly, back and forth, digging deeper. Randy is crying now, tears falling down and struggling for breath, “-lots and lots of reasons. I had this whole big motive, this crazy plan, Billy’s mom, you remember Billy’s mom, Nancy Loomis, had found me and brought me here, bankrolled my education while I was meant to do the dirty work-”
Randy could hardly believe what he was hearing over the burning and pulsing pain, Mickey kept talking, “-but thennn, you-” 
Mickey pointed down at Randy with his free hand, “-fucked up. You took your girl for granted and I got to swoop in at that party and our whole whatever the fuck you want to call it started and I realized, I don’t want to share her. I don’t want to follow through on that original plan. I just want her. But she’s-”
He ripped the knife out and Randy half screamed, blood splatters over his robe and the wall and when Randy’s scream subsided he was still holding the knife while he made air quotes as he said “-all “in love with you” for some fucking reason.” 
Mickey shakes his head, “She’s amazing, but man that shit I just do not understand. I mean look at you! No fight at all! Fuck, you are so pathetic. You find out I fucked your girlfriend and you come to my apartment begging me to do it again while you watch?! Who does that?”
He laughs with a shake of his head, “I know as long as you are around she wouldn’t dump you and I couldn’t ask her to, I would come off like a total dick and then she might push me away and end our fun. That can’t happen!”
The exclamation is loud, angry, and violent. The knife comes back down again, in the ribs and Randy’s body jerks, he coughs, blood paints his chin, he wheezes, he thinks his lung might be punctured. Mickey barks out, “Look at me, Meeks.”
Randy’s eyes open half way, he feels woozy, Mickey looks positively manic, he has leaned down closer, still holding that knife handle so tightly, “I’m doing this because it’s the only way I see that she can be all mine. I’m killing you to fix this little problem. I’m going to be there while she grieves, I’m going to be the one to help her pick up the pieces, she’s gonna cling to me and then I’m gonna have her all to myself.” 
Mickey was grinning, “Our little thing was a good time I’ll admit that but I’m ready to move up to the next level, I don’t want to be her classmate, or her friend, I don’t want to be her fuck buddy, I want to be her boyfriend. Not you.” 
Randy is shaking his head, his face is so wet, blood, sweat, drool, tears, he is mouthing something, too weak to talk, Mickey thinks it’s “No” but who cares really. 
“Yeah. It’s gonna happen and there is nothing you can do to stop it.” Mickey said in a condensing tone as he nodded, “You’re going to die, and soon it seems like!” 
Mickey rips the knife out again and Randy jerks once more, nowhere near as strong, “I cannot wait. Not anymore. You should see her when we are alone, the way she looks at me, talks to me, she isn’t yours and hasn’t been for a while. I’m just helping her see it, speeding along the inevitable. She’s mine.”
The silver blade stained red cuts through the air and hits home again, lower this time and a similar reaction is drawn, weaker still, before being pulled out and then it happens again and again. Chest, ribs once more, stomach, stab, cut, rip, tear while repeating that one word over and over again. A quiet chant breathed through gritted teeth on harsh exhales from the sheer amount of exertion and effort, “Mine. Mine. Mine.” 
Randy is dead.
He didn’t get proper last words but Mickey thinks he didn’t deserve them the same way that he didn’t deserve you. Mickey is sure it happened sometime between the seventh and the seventeenth stab but it doesn’t really matter. He stays there for a moment looking down at Randy, body slowly turning cold, bloodstained and eyes lifeless. 
He sits until he is sick of looking at him and then he gets up, the robe and mask are rolled up and put into his bag. He leaves out the back way, the camera is broken on that side of the building so no one can possibly tie him to this. He left with a spring in his step and the bag under his arm and excited for the news to reach him naturally. 
The phone ringing is what wakes him up, he is wiping sleep out of his eyes as he makes his way to the kitchen, he snatches it up off of the bar and brings it up to his ear, “Lo’?” 
It’s you, the voice sounding wrecked, you barely get the words, “Randy’s dead-” before you are sobbing, he lets himself smile. You start trying to talk a mile a minute through your sobs and he listens to you go on for a minute before he cuts in asking you to take a breath before he is apologising, tell you how awful that sounds and as you are sniffing you ask quietly, “Ca-can you come over? I-I don’t wan-want to be alone.” 
 “I’ll be right there.” He assures and you tell him, “Hurry, please-”
He tells you he will be right there. He hangs up, he throws on clothes and finds himself humming on the way to your place. He shows up with coffee and breakfast, it’s stupid early and he isn’t sure when you last ate, he knocks and calls out, before he can get your name out the door is open and you are throwing your arms around his neck. He almost drops the coffee tray in one hand and the take out bag in the other but he keeps a grip on them. Your face is wet and buried in his shirt, body shaking and he says softly, “Oh hey, hey, I’m here.” 
You stand in your doorway for minutes and he doesn’t rush you, he lets you cling to him and God this is already working out so well. 
Once he manages to get you inside he sits with you, he makes sure you eat, he listens, holds the box of tissues while you lament, “I wasn’t allowed to see him but they say it was a massacre, they are talking murder Mickey-”
“Murder? Oh my God!” 
If only you knew. But you never would. 
He barely left your side. You kept asking him to stay, begging him to be close, you told him that he made you feel safe, made this easier to handle, you feared you’d fall apart without him and it made him feel so important. Your grief is intense but he loves how you are like this, how you rely on him even when things are difficult and hard to manage, he loves the desperation. He pokes, he has a small pattern, you are so raw that a small nudge makes your emotions go screwy and when you are in a deep spiral then he helps soothe you, pulls you out of it again and makes sure any positive emotion you feel during this time, no matter how small, is tied to him. 
You are so needy, but he has never felt this needed and my God is it nice to feel needed. 
No serious suspicion is thrown his way. He doesn’t kill anyone else, lets everything calm and die down and a funeral is planned and hosted for Randy over a month after he died. Everyone was just so scared that whoever it was might strike again beforehand. The fear it was Ghostface was present, kept Sidney and everyone else permanently on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop but it seemingly never does and they all have to start moving on sometime. Mickey had to fight hard to keep the act up, but inside there was such power and joy in doing the receiving line of Randy’s family, shaking hands and giving condolences, everyone unaware that he is the reason and cause of his death. He made the right call, abandoning the other plan for this was amazing. He listens as you cry your way through your turn speaking, he knows he is going to be comforting you hard after this and true, right after you finished you come over and he held your hand, giving you the pack of tissues he had in his pocket.
The casket buried, the wake over, he is with you back at his place. You’d been wanting to spend more and more time here, you hadn’t cleared out all the little pieces of Randy from your space yet and you felt like you couldn’t face them today. Your eyes are red from the crying, your nose raw from the tissues used, sitting on his couch, heels kicked off and in your funeral dress still. You aren’t quite as sombre now, he had seen to that, he got your favourite take out just before the place closed, it was near midnight and you actually ate, half empty boxes on the coffee table along with a few empty drink cans. 
You were cradling your current drink in your hand, looking across the couch to him, you were both sitting on the same ends of the couch as before, a mirror of that night months previous that started all this. He was in the middle of telling some story that was making you laugh, the smile on your face was small but steadily growing. “She ended up not even having her wallet after all that.” 
“Holy shit, no way! So then what?” 
“What do you mean what? I sure as shit didn’t pay for her.” He laughed and you said around an amused exhale of your own, “Alright fair, especially after how she treated the cashier yeah fuck her.” 
He takes another pull from his can and you did the same before setting aside with a sigh. You rested your head on the back of the couch as you said, “Thanks for this Mick.”
A questioning hum left him paired with raised eyebrows and you elaborate, “For being here for me. I know I’ve been like a mess, understandably so but a mess all the same. I know dealing with me hasn’t been easy but just…Without your support I dunno how I would have gotten through this.” 
“Oh hey, no need to thank me. That is what a good guy does.” He said easily and you nod, “You really are, you’re so great.”
You reach out, a grabby hand gesture and he fills your need, taking your hand and you sigh. “I feel bad.” 
“For a different reason other than the funeral?” He asked and you laughed a little, “Yeah. I just…I’ve been having these thoughts that make ME feel like I’m a horrible person.”
“What thoughts could you possibly be having to make you feel like that?”  
“I dunno if I should say.” You grumbled and he said, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to but you know you can trust me. I won’t judge you and I sure as shit won’t tell anyone else.” 
You are quiet for a moment before deciding that yes, he is right, you can trust him. You might even feel better getting it out, “I loved Randy. I mean I still love Randy but…All this time I have been spending with you and everything from before, how great you are I’ve been thinking about you more than I should. In ways I probably shouldn’t.” 
He ignores the first half of your sentence, he is sure that would fade in time, he focuses on the second half, “Like how?” 
You give a half shrug and look away, gaze averted and he says your name, stretching it out, he is leaning closer and you steal a glance back at him and say, “Like…” 
The tension is thick, you’ve moved closer throughout the conversation yourself, not so much on the opposite ends of the couch now, almost on the same cushion in the middle of the couch you take a deep breath to steady yourself and you open up. You are already raw and vulnerable, why not go all in? 
“I’ll be in a class I don’t have with you and I feel this huge hole where you should be. I don’t feel like I can do anything properly while away from you, I can’t eat or focus, the weight of everything else crushes me but when you are around I have, fuck, I have hope. I think I can do this, I feel stronger and better, you do that for me!”
He keeps doing what he has for more than a month, he listens, he squeezes your hand harder and he listens to you. 
“I’ll be in bed alone and wish you were with me. My sleep schedule is wrecked but I think I could finally get some good rest with you because I swear to God, if there is one, I only feel safe around you lately.” 
You are speaking so fast now, as if you can’t communicate your intense emotion fast enough until the words stop because your other hand that isn’t in his is on his face, tugging him close to you and kissing him. It starts off hot, deep, needy and he is stunned, it takes a moment to match the energy but he lets you lead it. Fuck he has missed this, missed feeling you against him, you start to slow, he keeps pace, from all consuming open mouthed to soft brushes with laboured breathing and you pull back, “That. I have been thinking the most about doing that.” 
“And that…Makes you feel bad? Cuz it felt pretty good to me.” You laugh from the tone and his expression, the big smile that is so him, you admit, “No that did feel good but I feel bad because my boyfriend has been in the ground for less than twelve hours and I’m on your couch, kissing you and I’ve been thinking about doing it for weeks.” 
You inhale in a way he has come to know far too intimately, that hitch that tattles on you that you are going to cry, you choke out, “How shitty of a person does that make me?” 
He lets go of your hand, his hands are on your cheeks and then tracing down to your neck, thumbs stroke over the line of your jaw and he says, “It doesn’t, hey,  you aren’t a shitty person. You’re my favourite person.” 
Your hands are on his wrists and you shake your head, “I’m pretty sure I am, I-I don’t deserve you, I didn’t deserve Randy either-”
A sniff and he assures further, “No, stop that, you deserve so much. I wouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t.”
It is quiet for a moment, you are trying to breathe through it and stop yourself from seriously crying, he knows just the right thing to say, “I know I’m really stupid but I have good taste.” 
You laugh. A nod as you admit, “Okay, you’re right, you do have good taste.” 
“We’re gonna ignore you not disagreeing with me calling myself stupid-” You laugh again harder, “But see! So if I have good taste that means that everything I do for you isn't a mistake, it’s not wasted, you deserve this.”
You look into his eyes and ask a bit more seriously, one of the main worries weighing on you, “Isn’t it too soon?”
It’s his turn to laugh, “What? Do you seriously think Meeks would want you to recognize Victorian mourning customs and mope around in all black for a year?” Another laugh spills out of you at the image, “Why does the timing matter on this? If you want it now, then why not now? What is waiting a few more weeks or months going to do?”
He is right. Why does it matter?
The next thing you ask is, “Am I really your favourite person?” 
“Easily. No contest.” You are still so close to each other, and you decided fuck it, why does it matter? You’ve been through so much, you are desperate and you deserve to feel good and so you give into what you have been craving. 
You kiss him again on the couch. 
Neither of you stay on the couch for very long. 
It comes out while you are in his bed, your dress on the floor and you are under him, arms wrapped around his neck, you feel like you could cry but not for any of the feelings or reasons that you had previously over this past month. You don’t want to sob because you are sad or missing Randy or anything else, you cry because fucking hell you missed this, you needed this, it feels incredible but it’s more than that. You finally realised it a while ago, but now? You are unable to ignore it, can’t hold it inside, the admission is on your tongue and has been threatening to come out between moans for minutes. Rocking with him, feverish kisses placed over the side of his face as you gasp, Mickey’s hands are all over, like he cannot get enough of you, he is buried deep and he hits that spot that makes your whole body want to shudder and at long last it comes out in a rush, overwhelmed and feeling overflows you tell him-
“I love you.”
That makes him slow, not stop, but slow, rolls of his hips are purposeful, the change in angle is fantastic, the pressure and grinding on your clit makes you want to cry all over again. He has one arm under your neck, the other one runs up your side, there is this expression on his face that can only be described as a cross between joyful disbelief and pure affection, brown eyes are warm as he asks, “What did you just say?”
You repeat it, louder, voice more sure, “I said I love you.” A harder thrust, a shared and hushed moan, your nails biting into the skin on the back of his neck, you make yourself maintain eye contact, it’s difficult  but it’s important so you manage, “I am tired of-of feeling it, fuck, and not saying it, I fucking love you.” 
He couldn’t be happier, this was better than he ever could have planned or hoped, better than any dream possible, he leans down, kisses you deeply and you return it. Eyes closed you are close in sensation and the moment, in him. He pulls back, close enough his forehead is touching yours as he breathes back the same sentiment, “I love you too, so fucking much.” 
A broken moan that could be read as the word “really” but he is picking up the pace, quicker, rougher and your hand falls back, a desperate plea of, “Mickey, fuck, don’t stop-”
As if he would ever. 
He did manage to get away with it.
It’s been over a year since Randy’s murder, you are none the wiser and you barely mention Randy anymore. Sure his birthday, his death day and your old anniversary with Meeks was hard but that was understandable and tolerable. 
The main and most important thing is that he had you, after the funeral you and he became official, you kept it on the down low, he insisted he wanted you to be spared the judgement, you were already going through so much and any added stress needed to be stomped out. You and he talked regularly about living together and man was he ever excited for when that could happen. Sure it would make his “hobby”, whenever he picked it back up again, more difficult but fuck it, he loved a good challenge. The itch for murder hasn’t been on his mind in so long, much too happy and concerned with you, wrapped up in your relationship but he was feeling that need wriggling in the back of his brain, he can ignore it for the time being. He got away with it and he has you, life is good.
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farmerlesbian · 3 months
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hi farmer lesbian!
so ive identified as bisexual for a long time but ive discovered recently i feel very comfortable within the lesbian ideas of gender and specifically the butchfemme community. i’ve been dating someone recently who also identified as bisexual but has related to transmasc lesbians understanding of gender as well as posts about butches. we both kind of see ourselves within the butchfemme dynamic but i’ve been very tough on myself with calling myself a lesbian because i’ve dated a man before (…in middle school..)
it’s gotten to the point where i’m really worried to label myself because of what it’d imply for my partner? but also what people would say? and while i know i dont HAVE to label myself it just sucks to know theres an identity im drawn to and feel like i fit into that i cant immediately slip into
hmm i'm not really sure how to guide you here. i guess i want to challenge you on some of the things you're saying here, it feels like you're coming at this from maybe the "wrong" angle (wrong feels too harsh a word, maybe just not the most helpful angle)
you're worried you can't call yourself a lesbian because you dated a boy in middle school? i think.. a LOT of lesbians dated boys in jr. high and high school and there are lots of late in life lesbians who were married to men for years before figuring out who they are and coming out. this is all completely normal and common. like, dating one boy in middle school doesn't really mean much tbh. i wouldn't base your identity or label you use around something like that. i dated a bunch of boys in high school and early college when i was still figuring out who i was. your labels or identity or gender or sexuality don't need to account for all you life experiences and past. it's not so much about your sexual history but describing who you are *now*, what you're interested in, in the present.
you say both you and your partner really like Lesbian Genders and butch/femme stuff. that's nice, but liking and relating to lesbian culture and gender stuff doesn't make you a lesbian haha! it's who you're attracted to and who you're not, that determines your orientation. gender and orientation are different things, as i'm sure you know. obviously very connected and stuff. like, for example, just because someone identifies as a man it doesn't make him straight, even though heterosexuality is an integral part of manhood, in the dominant culture. gay trans men are certainly not rare! the same goes for you guys.
also, remember that transmasculinity is a broad umbrella and encompasses a wide variety of people and their identities and experiences. plenty of butches aren't transmasc, and probably most transmascs aren't butch.
i will tell you that in the course of running this blog and being on the internet, i've probably seen and shared thousands of photos and drawing of people. not once have i ever seen something that represents me and my wife. if you are seeking out representation or examples of the options to be, in order to figure out who/what you are, i would advise against that. seek what feels true to you, what feels honest and right. you do not need to be similar to other people in order to find belonging, acceptance, and community. (though of course this is absolutely nothing wrong or bad if you do find others just like you, if you do fit in to existing roles and dynamics! that is of course perfectly normal!)
now, i don't know you or your partner. you know yourselves best. i can't tell you what you really are or really aren't. and i certainly am not going to tell you what you can or can't be! everything i'm saying here is to prompt you to think about and questions to ponder for yourself.
so, i think you have some points to think about, why have you been identifying as bisexual? what is drawing you to the lesbian label? have you tried using 0 labels and not thinking about your identity or labels for at least a month or two (if not a several months) and then coming back and evaluating it afresh? what about the butch-femme dynamic are you drawn to? what is holding you back? you are allowed to discover that you are a lesbian! or you are allowed to continue to be bisexual! i can't tell you who you are - but you're allowed to be and do whatever you want, whatever feels true to you! even if it doesn't make sense to other people or you don't see anyone else like you out there. you gotta be a little bit brave!
hang in there, and sending much love to you and yours! 🧡
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Happy birthday! This is the same anon from last night but with something else for you. It's still Shazam related but more angst, as that is my true specialty.
It takes a while and a bit of bargaining, but Billy, with the help of Solomon, comes up with a way to reveal his identity to the Justice Leauge without Actually Doing So. After a meeting, instead of going back down immediately like he usually does, Billy sits down next to a window and stares down at the earth with a sad expression. This is something the other Leaugers have never seen on Cap. Sure they've seen him angry once or twice, they've seen him confused plenty of times, and certainly they have seen him laugh and smile. But never before have they seen him look so sad and unresponsive.
It's Hal who ends up shoved over to see what's wrong with The Captian and takes a seat next to him as he asks in a soft voice, "hey there Cap. You doing OK Big Buddy?" He is taken aback by the look Billy gives him, one of confusion and mourning. Hal is especially taken aback by the question Billy asks him.
"Am I a monster?"
While Hal, and the others who are listening from the door way, are stunned by the question, Hal tries to tell Billy he isn't a monster and asks why he would think that, if something happened. Billy shakes his head and says, "you don't understand. I did something bad. I... it's my duty to watch over the Rock of Eternity as the Warden for all the things that live there. I can't really... leave unless I'm directly summoned because I'm supposed to be good and *stay* there and *guard*. But... the Rock is so lonely and I was there for so, so, so long Hal. You don't, you *can't* understand how long I was there. Trapped with all the prisoners as an in house Warden. Seeing the sun every 20 or 30 years. So I may or may not have fudged a bit of paper work to make Fawkette City part of The Rock. So I could finally, *finally* know what freedom felt like. So I could finally grow. Cause you know. Saftey measure of I can't de power while I'm to close to The Rock or Actively Summoned and when I'm not de powered my true form doesn't age or change at all. I was just... I could stop every attack on the city, I could solve so many problems if I just put it back how it should be and lock myself back in there for another 50 or 60 years. But I just. I can't Hal. I tried and I know people get hurt because of it but I can't force myself to go back there. I'm a *monster*."
Hal tries to calm Cap, distract him by asking about his true form. It takes some calming and convincing but Billy changes back in the middle of the watch tower and oh God. Now there's a small child looking up at Hal with big watery eyes as Billy says, "I just don't want to go back in the dark. But I don't want to be a monster. But I want to age and play. But that gets people hurt. I don't know what to do."
The moment I read the word angst I was already buckled into the car. Also thanks for telling me happy birthday :D
I don't even know what could be added onto this. The idea is fantastic, the amount of emotion Billy could pour into this moment to make everything worth it and make sure he played it just right to where everyone was now there for him in his fight. Truly beautiful anon, I can't think of anything to pour into this
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