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#when I was a kid I didn't get far lets be real
cy-cyborg · 3 days
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The Untrustworthy Fake: Disability Tropes
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[ID: A screenshot of Willy Wonka from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory as he limps towards a crowd using a cane. In the picture, he has a brown top hat in his hand, and he's wearing a suit with a purple jacket, multicoloured bow tie and cream coloured pants. Beside him is text that reads: "Disability Tropes, The untrustworthy Fake" /End ID]
Tell me if this sounds familiar: A new character is introduced into a story with some kind of disability - usually visible but not always. Maybe they're a seemingly harmless person in a wheelchair, maybe they're a one-legged beggar on the street, or maybe they're an elderly person with a cane and a slow, heavy limp. But at some point, it's revealed it's all a ruse! The old man with a cane "falls" forward and does a flawless summersault before energetically springing back up to his feet, the wheelchair user gets to their feet as soon as they think the other character's backs are turned, the one legged beggar's crutch is knocked out of his hand, only to have his other leg pop out of his loose-fitting tunic to catch him.
All of these are real examples. Maya and The Three introduces one of it's main protagonists, Ricco, by having him pretend to be missing a leg in order to con people (something that works on the protagonist, at least at first), Buffy The Vampire Slayer had the character Spike, pretend to be in a wheelchair, until the other characters leave and he gets up, revealing it's all a ruse and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory introduces Wonka by having him slowly limp out into the courtyard of the factory, only for his cane to get stuck, causing him to "fall" and jump back up, revealing that he's actually perfectly fine. Virtually every single major crime show in the past few decades has used this trope too, from CSI to The Mentalist, Castle, Law and Order and Monk all having at least one episode featuring it in some way. Even the kids media I grew up with isn't free from it; The Suite Life of Zack & Cody sees Zach faking being dyslexic after meeting someone who actually has the condition in the episode Smarter and Smarter and the SpongeBob SquarePants episode Krabs vs Plankton has Plankton fake needing a wheelchair (among other injuries) after falling in the Krusty Krab as a ploy to sue Mr Krabs and trick the court into giving him the Kraby Patty Formula.
No matter the genre or target audience though, one thing is consistent: this trope is used as a way to show someone is dishonest and not to be trusted. When the trope is used later in the story, it's often meant to be a big reveal, to shock the audience and make them mad that they've been duped, to show the characters and us what this person (usually a villain) is willing to stoop to. Revealing the ruse early on though is very often used to establish how sleazy or even how dangerous a character is and to tell the audience that they shouldn't trust them from the get go. Gene Wilde (The actor who first played Willy Wonka) even said in several interviews that this was his intent for Wonka's character. He even went so far as to tell the director of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory that he wouldn't do the film without that scene because of how strongly he felt this trope was needed to lay the foundations for Wonka's questionable intentions and motivations. His exact words are: "...but I wouldn't have done the film if they didn't let me come out walking as a cripple and then getting my cane stuck into a cobble stone, doing a forward somersault and then bouncing up... the director said, well what do you want to do that for? and I said because from that point on, no one will know whether I'm telling the truth or lying."
There's... a lot of problems with this trope, but that quote encapsulates one of the biggest ones. whether intentionally or not, this trope ends up framing a lot of actual disabled people as deceitful, dishonest liars. Now I can already hear you all typing, What?! Cy that's ridiculous! No one is saying real disabled people are untrustworthy or lying about their disabilities, just people who are faking!
but the thing is, the things often used in this trope as "evidence" of someone faking a disability are things real disabled people do. A person standing up from their wheelchair or having scuff-marks on their shoes, like in the episode Miss Red  from The Mentalist isn't a sign they're faking, a lot of wheelchair users can stand and even walk! They're called ambulatory wheelchair users, and they might use a wheelchair because they can't walk far, they might not feel safe walking on all terrains, they might have unstable joints that makes standing for too long risky, they might have a heart condition like POTS that has a bigger impact when they stand up or any number of other reasons. Also even non-ambulatory wheelchair users will still have scuff marks from things like transferring and bumping into things (rather hilariously, even TV Tropes calls this episode out as being "BS" in it's listing for this trope, which it refers to as Obfuscating Disability). A blind beggar flinching or getting scared when you pull a gun on them isn't a sign they're faking their blindness like it is in Red Dead Redemption 2. Plenty of blind people can still see a little bit, it might only be a general sense of light and darkness, it might be exceptionally blurry or just the fuzzy outlines of shapes, or they might only be able to see something directly in front of them, all of which might still be enough to cue the person into what's happening in a situation like that. Even if it's not, the sound of you pulling your gun out or other people nearby freaking out and making noise probably would tip them off. A person needing a cane or similar mobility aid sometimes, but being able to go without briefly or do even "big movements" like Wonka's rolling somersault, doesn't mean they don't need it at all. Just like with wheelchairs, there's a lot of disabilities that require canes and similar aids some days, and not others. Some disabilities even allow people those big, often straining movements on occasion, or allow them to move without the aid for short periods of time, but not for long. Some people's disability's might even require a mobility aid like a cane as a backup, just in case something goes wrong, but that still means you need to carry it around with you, and unless it can fold down, it's easier to just use it.
Disability is a spectrum, and a lot of disabilities vary in severity and what is required of the people who have them day to day. This trope, however, helps to perpetuate the idea that someone who does any of these things (and many others) is faking, which can actively make the lives of disabled people harder and can even put them in very real danger, physically, mentally and even financially.
Just ask any ambulatory wheelchair user about how many times they've been yelled at for using accommodations they need, like disabled toilets or parking spaces. How many times they've been accused of faking and even filmed without their consent because they stood up in public, even if it was to do something like get their wheelchair unstuck or as simple as them standing to briefly reach something on a high shelf. I've caught multiple people filming me before, so have my friends and family, and it's honestly scary not knowing where those images have ended up. This doesn't just impact the person either, a friend of mine was filmed while standing up to get his daughter (who was about 4 at the time) out of the car. He was lucky to have stumbled across the video a few days later on facebook and contacted the group admins where it was posted to get it taken down, but had he not stumbled across it by chance, pictures with his home address and his car's number plate, his child's face and his face all visible would have just been floating around, all because a woman saw him stand briefly to pick up his daughter.
Many people don't stop at just saying a nasty comment or taking a photo though, a lot of people, when they suspect people are faking, will get violent. I have many friends who have been pushed, slapped in the face, spat on or had their mobility devices kicked out from under them. I've even been in a few situations myself where, had I not had people with me, I think the situation would have turned violent.
There's even been cases where those photos and videos I've mentioned before have been used against real disabled people and they've been reported to their country's welfare system as committing disability fraud. While cases like this are usually resolved *relatively* quickly, in many parts of the world, their payment will be halted while the investigation is in process, meaning they may be without any income at all because of someone else's ignorance. If you're already struggling to make ends meet (which, if you're only living off one of those payments, you probably will be), a few weeks without pay can mean the difference between having a home and being on the streets.
Not to mention that when there's so many stories about people faking a disability in the media, especially when the character is doing it to get some kind of "advantage", such as getting accommodations or some kind of disability benefit, it perpetuates the idea that people are rorting the systems put in place to help disabled people. If this idea becomes prevalent enough, the people in charge start making it harder for the people who need them to access those systems, which more often than not results in disabled people not even being able to access the very systems that are supposed to be helping them. A very, very common example of this is in education where accommodations for things like learning disabilities require you to jump through a ridiculous number of hoops, especially at higher levels, only to have some teachers and professors refuse to adhere to the adaptations anyway because they're convinced the student (and usually disabled students as a whole) is faking.
Yes, the "untrustworthy faker" is a fictional trope, and yes, it does occasionally happen in real life, but not as often as media (including things like news outlets) would have you believe. However, when the media we consume is priming people to look for signs that a disabled person is faking, it has a real impact on real disabled people's lives. "Fake-claiming" is a massive problem for people in pretty much all parts of the disabled community, and it ranges from being just annoying (e.g. such as people spamming and fake-claiming blind people online with "if you were really blind, how do you see the screen" comments) to the more serious cases I mentioned above. It's for this reason a lot of folks in the disabled community ask that people leave this trope out of their works.
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ambrosiagourmet · 1 day
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Rin Masterpost
Rin! Rinsha Fana! Beloved side character I think about far too much (or maybe not enough?)
I decided that it might be nice to put together an informational post about Rin, since she has some of my favorite background details of any character in Dungeon Meshi. This is partly as reference for myself, and partly for anyone else who might be interested in her but not know where to chase down the tidbits we we get of her, both in canon & extra materials. There’s also a little bit of theorizing and analysis sprinkled in for fun.
If anyone spots something I missed, please let me know and I will add it in!
Alright. Time for ultimate #rinposting
History and Timeline:
We don't have an official timeline for Rin (even in the expanded Adventurer's Bible, sadly), but we can put a lot of pieces together based on Kabru's timeline & their respective ages.
Rin is 2 years older than Kabru, and they met when he was 9. Assuming that he met her soon after she was taken to the elven capital, that means that the elves took her when she was 11.
Before that, she lived on the Northern Continent. Interestingly, when Mickbell asks about Shuro, Rin says she was born "here."
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Since "here" doesn't mean the actual Island itself, it must mean simply "not the east." She is described in the Adventurer's Bible as having "no real knowledge of or attachment to the East," so maybe that's why she draws a "there" verses "here" line.
I'd also like to add a note here that the elves don't seem uh... they don't seem great about respecting the value of other cultures, especially those of short-life species. Milsiril seems to have discouraged Kabru from eating or remembering food from his hometown, at least, and that's even as an adoptive parent who cares (at least in some way) for her child. As I will touch on later, the "care" that Rin was under probably had even less respect for her history or ties to either Eastern or Northern culture.
That is all to say, considering that Rin spent many years with the elves, I'd take her having "[no] attachment to the East" as more of a comment on how she feels now, and less as a definite choice she made. She may genuinely have chosen that approach and opinion for herself, she may have been pushed towards it by the elves, and she may have had little choice at all in the matter - all are valid interpretations, though I personally lean towards the thought that it's unlikely the elves didn't have at least some hand in it.
Anyway, Rin does seem to know at least a bit about her heritage - she can presumably name and identify the specific island her parents are from, and she recognizes that "Shuro" isn't a name used there. She also knows that different places from the Eastern archipelago speak different languages, so she knows at least a little about the other islands as well.
Some additional extrapolations I'll make based on these facts: she never mentions, and probably isn't in contact with, any family from her island. This may be because her extended family died, because her parents didn't (or weren't able to) maintain contact, or because she lost contact when she was taken by the elves. Somewhat relatedly, she also prooobably doesn't speak the language, at least not fluently, though her being able to comment on the state of language in the archipelago makes me think that she at least learned a little as a kid.
Anyway, Rin's parents were refugees from the archipelago, though we don't know what specifically caused them to leave. There is this little tidbit of info we get (from the cover of chapter 48, of all places), though:
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So yeah, that seems like it would be the backdrop of Rin's parents fleeing. As I said earlier, it's unclear if Rin might have any living family left back on her island. The listing she has for “family” in the Adventurer's Bible is just a dash, but so is Izutsumi's, for instance, and we know that she was taken from her family with no knowledge of who might still be out there. It's possible everyone else was killed, it's possible they were separated... it's possible that Rin's parents didn't even know.
As an additional note, and this is speculation on my part, but I think there is an argument to be made, with this tidbit from the cover as well as the Nakamoto clan's specialty in espionage and use of ninjas, that the politics of the archipelago are partially based on Sengoku era Japan. Not necessarily super relevant here, but I think it's interesting context for all... of the archipelago characters, honestly.
(Especially considering it seems like the Nakamoto clan is in a relatively comfortable position, and yet clearly are involved, or at least prepared to be involved in larger conflict. How stable is their position, really? How is Shuro's father viewed by the wider region and archipelago as a whole? What about his lord? NOT THE POINT THIS IS A POST ABOUT RIN. BUT IT'S VERY INTERESTING TO THINK ABOUT.)
Okay, back to Rin's parents.
Whatever caused them to leave, they made their way to the north, where they made their living with their magic for a time. There are no specifics about what kind of magic they used, but we know at least some examples of jobs that magic can get you, based on the flashback to Laios and Falin's childhood in chapter 26. Laios proposes that Fain could use her magic to be a priest, gravekeeper, or wandering exorcist. Though these are specific to Falin's affinity with spirits, they give some idea of the shape of the work that might be available. It's important, but it is also on the outskirts of society - not necessarily admired or appreciated by the average person.
And Rin’s parents were killed by vigilantes for that magic. It's not entirely news that superstitious villages in the area would sometimes kill magic users - we see a small drawing of people being burned at the stake in a panel towards the end of the manga:
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Nonetheless, Rin is the only person in the main cast who has experienced this brutality firsthand. And she did experience it firsthand, having been found by the elves as the sole survivor within the burnt ruins of her home.
It is unknown exactly how she survived, or what happened to her parents before and during the fire. Rin lived, and they did not.
The elves came some time after the fire, intending to investigate reports of ancient magic. They (and we) don't know if Rin's parents actually did use ancient magic, or if the reports and murders were simply spurred by general fear and superstition. Rin was the only piece of "evidence" that remained, and so she was taken back to the west with the elves when they left.
We don't know much about her time on the Northern Central Continent (where the elves/Canaries are based), but it doesn't seem like she was adopted or taken in by anyone the way that Kabru was. According to the Adventurer's Bible, after being taken into custody, "under their care she was treated as a captive animal would be." I would guess that means very basic food and shelter, little to no education. Probably the most social contact she got was from Kabru, as well as maybe, occasionally, from elves treating her as a curiosity, such as in this bit in the Adventurer’s Bible:
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Assuming she left with Kabru (which seems like it is the case, there's no info about them having separated during that time), she spent 9 years with the elves, and has been with Kabru on the Island in the 4 years since then.
She also stays in the Golden Country after the end of the story, apparently working as an alchemist.
Additional Details (& Speculation):
What does she remember of her family and home?
I'd like to take a moment here to explore a little of what Rin might remember of her parents and home.
For reference, we can look at Kabru. The canaries came to Utaya when Kabru was 6, and he arrived in the capital when he was 7. He remembers the events of the tragedy in his home, and has some memories of his mother and life in Utaya, including memories of local dishes.
Rin lost her parents and home at 11, so she presumably has much clearer memories of the events that lead to her being taken by the elves... or she might, assuming that they haven't been completely blocked by her trauma from the event.
Yeah, I am fairly damn sure that she's got some memory issues from trauma and PTSD. For one, this is the state she was found in:
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As already mentioned, she was also treated like something of an animal by the elves. She probably didn't have a lot of contact with other people, which would further perpetuate that sense of isolation and dehumanization. What I'm getting at here is that Rin probably didn't have much to help pull her out of this place, or heal these wounds. She had Kabru, who was also a kid and even younger than her, and she had herself.
Obviously trauma leaves different scars on everyone, and everyone responds and copes in different ways. But I do think it is interesting that we never hear anything about Rin's parents or life before the elves, and there are no real details about it given in the Adventurer's Bible the way we have for Kabru. What's presented is more surface level facts: they were refugees, they made a living with magic, they were killed.
I'm inclined to believe that things are laid out this way because that's how Rin holds on to these things. She knows things about them, but possibly remembers them more as things she was told/knows to be true, rather than actual memories she can picture herself experiencing.
Rin's Magic
In an interesting counterpoint to her potentially spotty memory, I do actually think Rin may have learned magic from her parents (or started learning, and was self-taught from there). She never attended a magic academy, and actually has a bit of grudge against people who did - owing to the social protection afforded to "upper-class mages," which her parents did not have. She also almost certainly wouldn't have been taught by the elves, who not only treated her as an animal but also knew her parents may have been involved with ancient magic.
Falin began to show signs of magical talent at 8, and was sent to the Magic Academy at 10, and that was as someone who had absolutely no guidance about or exposure to magic in her home town. Raised by two mage parents, I think Rin absolutely could have been learning some things by the time she was 11.
In terms of continued learning, I'll add that Rin is able to identify Marcille's magic as being A) from an Academy student, and B) cast by an elf:
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This makes me think that she continued to study magic on her own while held by the elves, and probably even more so after leaving with Kabru. They didn't form the party until two years after they left the elves, which would give Rin plenty of time to try and learn from other adventurers on the Island, or to study up on her own. She'd probably be able to pick up some dungeon-crawling basics (like the water walk spell), as well as become familiar with the skill level and expression of skill common in different people with different backgrounds (hence why she is able to comment on the "textbook" academy wards).
Much like Marcille, Rin also seems to rely on a 'one size fits all' Big Boom method of dealing with monsters: lightning. We see the best example of its power in the fight with Chimera Falin:
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But we also see her cast it pretty recklessly in a few other places, including the end credits of the new anime ED, which I think provides a good example of the downsides to such an approach...
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Yeah, it is very much a 'get out of the way or get zapped' spell.
Especially since Marcille's offensive magic is self-taught and works very similarly, this definitely reinforces the idea that Rin figured most of this stuff out herself.
Outfit and Character Design
Dear sweet Rin of the Red And Black... how I love her design.
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First of all, her clothes are damaged. Despite the fact that Rin looks relatively well put together overall, her outfit is worn out. I have some theories on why this is that I'll get to in a bit, but for now I'll just touch on what this design communicates in general about it.
I think, just like with Kabru's horribly messy room, it creates a sense that there is something more complicated underneath the surface. Something that isn't being addressed or seen to, just as the dress hasn't been mended or replaced.
It also reflects her not caring a ton about her appearance. She's neat, but she's not concerned about being pretty, so she doesn't bother with fixing up her outfit after her dungeon crawls. This also fits with her perpetual scowl (which I will talk more about in a bit), and slightly disheveled hair.
Next: the gloves. At first I thought they might be a sort of uncomfortable-with-touch thing, but after skimming through the manga and some bonus content, I have another theory. Rin takes the gloves off to eat, as well as a few other instances, such as when working on a spell with Holm and Marcille in chapter 36
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This one is especially interesting because she has them on in the next chapter, during the fight with Falin. Since she also isn't wearing gloves during some of the Daydream Hour art of her outside of the dungeon, that leads me to believe that they are specifically for combat.
What does she need them for, though? Most other casters we see don't wear gloves. Well... just look at the other half of the page where she attacks Falin with lightning:
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She is enveloped by this spell. I said it before was pretty reckless magic, but maybe its not just a problem for her teammates, but for her as well.
So here's my theory: maybe the gloves are rubber, or some other electricity-resistant material? They might help protect her from her own magic. I don't know why a caster would need gloves for combat otherwise.
I also think this might be why her dress is tattered at the bottom, by the way. Especially since the Daydream Hour genderswap design doesn't have a similar problem with his outfit, since the tunic isn't as long.
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I will admit this is a bit of stretch/guess, but I think it's a fun one, and I wanted to share. I do think I'm right about the gloves being for dungeons/fighting specifically, at least. That seems pretty consistent throughout all of her appearances.
I also mentioned her scowl, so I'll touch on that briefly as well. The (fairly confirmed) explanation for Rin's expression is that she intentionally wears a frown to prevent her other expressions from showing through. I think it's important to emphasize that it's not just smiling that she is trying to suppress here - it's any strong emotion:
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Anyway, because I can, here is the art of Rin smiling.
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Rin and Kabru
I have talked a bit about Rin and Kabru's history, but I think it deserves its own section.
I think it's very interesting that Rin is pretty much the ONLY character in all of Dungeon Meshi that has explicit canonical romantic interesting in someone. It's literally part of the main summary sentence in her character profile.
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This could be sort of reductive as a way to describe a female character (and in some ways it still is), but I think in part the simplicity and directness of it actually is part of what makes it so interesting. Especially when on the very next page we see the comic about her backstory. "This mage is in love with Kabru" -> one page of a horribly traumatic event and a child frozen in shock with no one to comfort her. What does that do?
Well, in my opinion, it shows how much Rin focuses on Kabru as something to keep her in the present. In contrast with the immense loss she has experienced, her love for Kabru is current and alive. He has presumably been her anchor for years, and I think that her love is part of that anchor.
Adding to this, in contrast with how explicit her feelings are, she never seems to actively pursue Kabru. She complains about his potential interest in other women, but she doesn't really flirt. She doesn't let herself smile around him any more than anyone else, and she doesn't hide her bitterness or anger from him to present a more appealing persona.
As much as she craves Kabru's attention, and has stayed by his side for years, I don't know that she really wants to possess him. He seems to know about her feelings, more or less, and she seems to know that he knows. Maybe she believes he doesn't reciprocate and is respecting that, maybe she's afraid of what she could lose if she tried to change things, or maybe the change itself frightens her. In any case, though she's not exactly happy with the way things are between them, she doesn't seem to be trying to change that status quo.
A specific thing I'd also like to talk about with their relationship, beyond Rin's love for him, is her fear for him. As the Adventurer's Bible puts it, "she worries that his knack for dealing with whatever life throws at him might lead him to get too full of himself and end up in serious trouble."
Rin is an interesting mix of restrained and explosive, herself. Her magic is destructive, her temper seems to run hot (she gets annoyed easily, at least), and her feelings for Kabru are apparent. At the same time, she doesn't let her emotions show on her face, she is the one who bluntly states that the group has hit the limit of their abilities, and she doesn't act on those obvious feelings for Kabru. It's interesting, then, that what she fears for Kabru is that he won't restrain himself.
And a small personal idea about that as well: I wonder if she somewhat blames her parents for getting killed. Again, this is very speculative, but I think it's interesting that her fear for Kabru is that he will get too full of himself. Take up too much space. It's never really stated what Rin thinks of her parents, but it can be easy in grief to search for control, and control often means blame. If they hadn't been so confident, so flashy, would they still be alive...?
I don't know if she's ever thought like that, and it could well be that her fears for Kabru come from a totally different place. But it's an interesting connective thread between her past and present - the idea of "getting in trouble" for taking up too much space and being too confident in one's own abilities.
Miscellaneous Tidbits:
On that note, I'd like to wrap up the main part of this post, and move on to a few extra things that I couldn't find another place for.
Rin plays with her hair when she's stressed
Using stressed as a pretty big umbrella here, because I think it's hard to perfectly pin down all the emotions at play, but it is a habit of hers. Best displayed in chapter 32, but it shows up in other places, too.
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Her design contrasts with Marcille
This is a small thing, but I just love how much they are visual opposites.
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Rin wears red and black and has dark hair, Marcille wears blue and white and has light hair. Marcille cares a great deal for her hair and puts it up in elaborate hairstyles, and Rin's is mostly loose and a bit messy. Marcille was even educated at the Magic Academy, which Rin dislikes. They both have little capelets. Also they both look very cute in each other's clothes.
Rin knows Flamela (and they meet again in canon)
Nothing much is done with this in canon, but I think it’s super interesting that Flamela's squad are the ones that find Rin as a child and take her away to the west, and then they end up stuck in the dungeon together for a bit.
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Two days??? I'm so very curious what things were like between these three.
Aaaand I think that's all I have to say about Rin! For the time being at least. There's a lot more analysis that could be done about her and Kabru especially, but for this post I wanted to keep things at least somewhat anchored to canon facts, with only a layer or two of speculation on top.
If it isn't already obvious, I think Rin is a super interesting character with a ton of potential depth to explore. She mostly interacts with Kabru in canon, but has ties to a bunch of other characters: she and Marcille fill similar roles in their parties but have differing personalities and histories, she and Falin (and Laios) have been tremendously shaped by xenophobia and fear of magic common in the Northern Continent, her parents fled from conflict in the same region Shuro and his retainers are from, and she has history with Flamela and some of the second canary squad.
Her temper, her fear, her love... her repression and passion - they all inform her character, even in small ways, even with as little time as she spends on the page.
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itsgrimeytime · 17 hours
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like father, like son || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!Reader
AVAILABLE ON AO3
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request for @zomb-1-egutzz
Inspiration: I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys
Summary: Taking care of Carl, was like instinct. Ever since you've met him, you've just cared for him like your own. You don't know why, you just slotted into his side. And you thought that was pretty simple. But, what you had never thought about, was what it would mean for Rick.
TWs: mention of Lori's death, mention of Hershel's death, mention of Beth's death, angst, crying, essentially a panic attack, pent-up emotions, cursing, blood, gunshot wounds, injuries, unrequited love (but not really), and all things TWD.
[[A/N: hey bestie <333, hope you like it. I write as a stress reliever but this one kinda hurt a little bit. And just fyi, Carl is alive and well, (canon is not real, so it will not hurt me). Also, Rick is down bad in this. Terribly down bad. Enjoy :))) ]]
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You were a long-time family friend of the Greene's, and when you had nowhere else to go, you went to Hershel's farm. Even before the apocalypse, you helped when you could on the farm, and you knew all of them really well. A little like they were family.
But when it all started... everything went to shit for you pretty quickly.
And you... you had nowhere else to go.
With your family's blood on your hands and visions of unhinged jaws (that you didn't think you'd ever wash away), you ran as fast as you could. You just let your feet guide you and ended up on the Greene farm.
You still remember how hard they hugged you when you showed up, even with the blood (their blood) all over you. They held you then and kept you breathing for a long time. You don't know what you would've done without them.
But one day (after weeks of being helpless and grieving a loss you just couldn't get over, not really), you just pushed it all down with one motto: keep breathing.
You didn't get to enjoy life anymore, how could you? The world was ending, and all you needed to do was stay alive.
You didn't have to like it.
So you asked Hershel how to shoot a gun, and taught yourself how to use a knife. You knew Hershel didn't like it, the violence, but you wouldn't hear it. Because if your family had lost their lives, you sure as hell weren't losing yours.
The Greenes were worried about you, you could tell. Every day that went by where you didn't smile or laugh, and instead, practiced shooting bottles or killing a few walkers for the thrill of it, they stared at you just a little longer. With just a mix of worry and pity.
You didn't want to worry them, but you were just doing what you had to, to survive.
If you thought about your family... you'd probably run into the walkers. Tear the life out of your body yourself. How were you supposed to enjoy life when they got that privilege ripped away? It wasn't fair.
So, you avoided everything else and kept your focus on five things: breathing, shelter, protection, water, and food. That was it. You would even offer to go get things out of your own volition, and all your trips made you good at killing walkers. You did it effortlessly early on, and you're pretty sure the Greenes couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.
But everything changed when a Dad showed up begging Hershel to save his kid.
That day had made your head spin, seeing a little boy have a gunshot wound. It made your eyes burn, and your head fill with what plagued your nightmares (unhinged jaws and bloody hands). You avoided the kid at all costs.
You hadn't initially known Rick, or even really wanted to (him, Lori, and Shane were definitely far too much for you to handle) but you were kind of the mediator. Hershel hated the violence that his group had, but he loved you. And Rick's group agreed with your 'violent' ways, so naturally, you sat right in the middle.
You didn't want it, perse, but you got used to it pretty quickly. You truly couldn't count on both hands how many times you had to step physically in between Hershel and Rick. So, somehow, someway, you'd earned his trust and respect.
That being said, you didn't really talk. Rick had a lot on his shoulders, with a pregnant wife, an injured son, and whatever the hell he and Shane had going on (you stayed the fuck away from that). And you weren't really a 'get to know me' kind of person at the time.
But, everything shifted when his kid got better.
You watched him kind of roam around the farm a lot. Rick and Lori had a lot going on, you understood that, and you know Rick tried but he still looked... lonely. And there was something heavy in you that knew he wasn't going to really have a childhood, that he lost something so precious.
There was nothing different that day, at all. You woke up, made sure your knife was safe in your pocket and went out. You did that often, even though Hershel and the girls hated it, just disappeared into nearby neighborhoods or whatever buildings you could get into (you were getting good at picking locks). That day you were looking for anything you could get your hands on, anything.
Endlessly walking through a culdesac, darting in between each house, trying to find anything of value. Food, water, something to help with shelter-
Instead, you found something else.
In the dead grass of one of these classy houses' front yard was one soccer ball. It was dirty, but not too bad for the apocalypse (you had seen far worse, and were probably worse yourself actually). With a thought, you picked it up in your hands, squeezing it, and it wasn't flat either.
You weren't sure why (or maybe you knew exactly why), but that's all you brought back to the farm.
Every day, when your brain would get to be too much, you'd throw it around in your hands or dribble it around the yard. At first, Maggie had looked at you oddly, but now, it seemed to relax her (and Beth and Hershel). It was healthier, or they, at the very least, thought so.
You could pretty much immediately feel his eyes on you though, a little longingly. Maybe that's why, when you'd never kicked it too far in the entire time you had it, you kicked it too far.
It rolled up and hit him in the back of the leg.
He turned to look at you, blue eyes sparkling a little, and then down at the ball.
On instinct, you spoke, "Shit."
The kid looked directly at you then.
"Don't say that, kid," you mended, quickly -maybe even a little awkwardly.
"Carl," he spoke then.
You questioned, "What?"
"My name's Carl," he explained with quite the intention in his voice, "-not kid."
You laughed a little, maybe for the first time in a while. You could nearly hear Maggie's gaze snap to you at the sound. She was always the most worried.
"Well, Carl," you hummed, playfully, "-you gonna pass me my ball back?"
He pressed his lips together in a thin line like he was thinking -the hat on his head wobbled a little. It was endearing.
"Only if you let me play too," he negotiated, a big grin on his face and something in you softened (for the first time in a long time).
You tilted your head, hand on your hip, "You drive a hard bargain, sir."
Carl laughed, and you felt your smile grow bigger. Now, you felt more eyes on you, Rick and Lori. Or at least Rick.
Apparently, you were making quite the spectacle.
"Alright, Carl," you finally replied, "-you've got a deal."
That was when it all started when Carl changed your life. Every day that you could, you'd play a game of soccer with him, eventually it developed more into a chatty sort of game. He told you a lot, and you told him about the things you used to do as a kid.
It felt like you had a hand in helping him keep his innocence. It was nice.
You remember the eyes sort of fading off of you, well. Except for one.
Rick was always watching. You couldn't understand if it was a Carl thing, or a worrying thing, or what exactly. But, you did notice it.
And eventually, Carl convinced him to join too.
"C'mon, Dad," he pleaded, "-just one game."
"Carl, I gotta-"
"Please," he turned on the puppy dog eyes, you laughed a little at how he softened immediately. His eyes shot to yours a second at the noise, you didn't think much of it.
"How are we supposed to play wit' just three of us?" He relented, just a smidge, "-Don't we need equal teams?"
Carl frowned.
Your mouth was open before you could even stop it, "Oh, please, I'm good enough to take the two of you on my own."
Rick's lips quirked into a smile, you had the thought that he was handsome before shoving it far away, "Are ya?"
"I am," you reiterated, just doing what felt natural, "-you too scared to try, Grimes?"
Carl laughed at that, almost giddy, it made something in your chest warm. Mission accomplished.
And with a breath, Rick readied himself -blue eyes solid on yours, "'S see whatcha got, Y/N."
That wouldn't be the last time the three of you would play soccer together, but it would be the first time you really got to know Rick. It remained that way, where you just played with Rick and Carl on days they could or days you could.
You'd found a connection, and it was nice.
But then, you were kind of a friend to Carl. You truly cared about him, yeah, you weren't on the level of a parent for him. Not at all. That just wasn't your dynamic, you didn't want to step on any toes.
Lori's or Rick's.
Before you could stop it, the fateful day arrived.
You were strung between a delicate mix of concern and disbelief. The overthrow of the farm was big, and maybe so was finding the prison, but this... this day was much worse.
You'd known Lori a little bit better then, she talked to you a little (because you were always around Carl). And she seemed nice, really, just in a fucked up situation that she could hardly handle herself. Nevertheless, to handle it for Carl. Plus, the whole Shane situation... He was dead now, and that really couldn't be easy on her conscience. (You kind of gathered the situation a little bit, when you were getting to know Rick. He hadn't said anything, but you understood enough.)
And when she went into labor, you hated that you weren't hopeful. Hated it.
Carl went with Maggie to help deliver, and your heart twisted in your chest (so insanely worried) but you needed to help the others.
When Maggie came out of the room, with just Carl and the baby -blood all over her hands, your heart sunk to the bottom of your chest. Lower, if it could. There was this little spark of hope that Carl was okay, but then you looked at him, really looked at him.
Rick was crying, and belligerent, and he did the very same. Just looked at his son, "No, no, no-"
God, he... he didn't-
You don't think you could ever forget the next moment.
A sob was racking up your throat, heavy and so suffocating as you watched Rick just lose it and Carl stayed steady in place, only looking at the ground. And you felt like you were going to throw up.
Stomach twisting, as your eyes got cloudy.
You hadn't even noticed it, maybe because your mind was reeling, but then you heard the slap of footsteps and then a body running into yours. Carl, Carl-
Hands shaking, your hands wrapped around him, holding him tightly -swallowing back what you could. Your body moved on its own.
You crouched down, you couldn't stop the tears then, eyes skimming over his face. He was just looking at you, blue eyes filling with tears, and before you knew it you were cupping his face and wiping all of them away.
"Oh, baby, baby-" you were whispering, just for him to hear, "-I'm so sorry."
And then, you pulled him into another hug. That time you didn't let go, you would hold him until he did. Tears wetting your shoulder you only squeezed him tighter -kissing him on the forehead when it felt like your soul was crushed into pieces.
That was where it started.
You still went on trips, but you stayed around a lot more. Because, as you were caring for Carl, you also started caring for Rick. They went hand-in-hand. That was much more important than anything else.
It started with going on trips, and getting Carl books and candy when you could. It grew from there though, you started siphoning off some of your food to give him extra. When he would get hurt, even small little cuts, you were immediately there -patching him up. Making sure he was completely fine.
And Rick... well, he was more complicated. It was dragging him away from the farm when he seemed so tired he could barely stand, it was getting him out of bed when he didn't want to even breathe, it was making sure he was eating, and it was sometimes guiding him back to reality when he saw Lori.
He started getting better eventually, and you did convince him to go see the baby. He'd been avoiding her as much as physically possible; you told him he should.
"She's a piece of Lori that you'll always have, Rick. Her and Carl."
He'd look at you a certain type of way you couldn't label then, but eventually agreed. So, you thought it was going well. As he became more conscious again though, similar to his previous self (sometimes you thought maybe even better), he started noticing.
Rick saw all that Carl had gathered, the finger pointed back to you. He was eating candy, the finger pointed back to you. Carl fell and scraped his knees, you were near immediately by his side while Rick watched (the finger pointed back to you).
And when you ate, you'd done how you always did, almost on instinct. Siphoning off some of your food and piling it onto Carl's plate.
You're not sure when Rick caught that, at all, really. But you knew he did.
Because, eventually, he started sitting beside you, and as quick as you'd siphon off to Carl, he'd siphon some of his off to you.
The first time he'd done it, you froze -staring at your plate.
"Rick, you don't-"
He didn't even flinch, blue eyes taking you in -grateful, "I do."
"Well," you reasoned, "-don't do it every day. You need to eat too."
"Don't ya give some to Carl every day?"
"Yeah, but-"
"No buts," he promptly finished, smiling at you in a new type of way, continuing his conversation with Daryl.
He'd done similar things, and eventually, your care spanned over to Judith. It wasn't as pressing as Carl, as Beth usually had her dealt with, but you'd been the one to feed her a few times (sat right beside Carl). And you won't lie you did do the baby voice a few times.
You didn't know it then, but Rick was looking at you in a new type of way.
And then, things happened in rapid succession.
The Governor did what he did, and Hershel died right in front of your eyes. You grabbed Maggie that day so tight, holding her as you both fell to the ground. It felt just like when your family... Your heart was thrown out of your chest and stomped into the dirt.
The fall of the prison didn't give you much time to grieve. You'd escaped with Carl and Rick, Judith had disappeared and you hoped with everything in your chest that she was still alive. God, you had never felt so low in your life.
Those days weren't good, and you had holed yourself up -lock and key. The only person who could through to you was Carl, despite how much Rick tried.
Breathing, shelter, protection, water, and food, but just for a bigger audience now.
The Claimers only proved you right. Seeing Carl like that, the threats of what they were going to do to him? You would've snapped if Rick hadn't.
"He's mine."
That day, you felt yourself come back again.
You held Carl tight against your chest, rubbing his hair over and over. Just before that, you scanned his whole body carefully -looking everywhere for anything at all. You would've killed them again if you could have if there was.
Holding him, you recenter yourself -calming the shake of your hands and the beating of your heart. You whispered, "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay-"
Carl had stopped you then, leveling his blue eyes on you, "I'm okay."
You smiled, maybe a little teary, reiterating, "You're okay."
And then, you saw Rick.
That was the thing about you, you were hardwired to care for them both at this point (for maybe more reasons than one, but you wouldn't admit that out loud). Making sure Carl was entirely fine, you kissed his forehead and spoke.
"Imma go help your Dad, okay?"
Hunting down a rag and a little bit of extra water, you slowly made your way over to him. He still had his eyes closed, and his hands were shaking; you simply sat right in front of him -wordlessly. You hardly even breathed, not wanting to startle him at all, but somehow still wanting to to bring him back.
You waited, patiently, for his eyes to open again, and when they did, you smiled a little.
"Hey, Grimes," you whispered, brandishing the rag, "-Thought you might need a little help, that okay?"
He looked at you in the same type of way he always did, one that you still couldn't label.
Before speaking lowly and a little slurred in his accent, "Yeah, 'at's okay."
You took a careful breath and leaned forward -gently scrubbing the blood off of his skin. Moving slowly, his eyes fluttered shut, and something in your chest tightened. He trusted you so much.
Your heart lept into your throat at the thought, and you took the moment to just look at Rick. How he differed from the first time you saw him, the time in his face. Longer hair that curled, the stubble that climbed up his cheeks, he was so different, but still somehow the same. Your heart stuttered in your chest.
That wasn't new, but it felt like it was.
With a breath, you continued wiping away what you could -pushing all around his face, smoothing over his lips, and dabbing a little on his facial hair. You moved slowly, not wanting to irritate his skin, but it made it take a little longer. As you did so, your fingertips brushed along his skin -just a little. It made your head spin.
You leaned back, satisfied, before grabbing his hands -left one first. You looked at them a moment, eyeing the callouses and the rough skin along his palm. His life was riddled on them, practically written there.
You cleared your throat, blinking back into focus.
Scrubbing away on the back and then flipping it to the front, you repeated the process.
He was looking at you now, blue eyes intently focused. You felt his steady gaze as you curled your hands around his, and for a moment it felt like you couldn't breathe.
Your heart beating heavily in your chest, you tried to stay focused.
When his skin was a sort of pink instead of blood red, you let go of his hands. Decidedly, you patted his cheek with a smile (the buzz of his skin against yours made your head spin).
"All better," you chimed, playfully.
He laughed a little then, and you felt something in you stir. Long ago dormant. Handsome, your mind spoke.
It was suddenly very hard to ignore it now, though. This close to his face, and he kind of looked like he-
With a breath, snapping your eyes from his and clearing your throat. "I'll um, go see if Carl needs me."
He just smiled at you in a certain type of way.
The two of you never talked about it again, but you did find him looking at you more.
And then Terminus.
To think about it now, made your skin crawl and bile rise up your throat. Beth died right in front of you, shot right through the head. She wasn't... There was no way-
You felt part of yourself crumble that you didn't think you could get back. God, she was so young-
You had new nightmares; they made your stomach twist and your sleep come to a relative halt. It wasn't just your family now (although it kind of was), it was Beth and Hershel. They had both been so sudden, your mind was still reeling. The gunshot bouncing through your ears, even now, as you lay on a blanket -Carl just beside you.
Your eyes snapped to him, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Alive, it thrummed along your mind, alive.
You watched it for a few moments, letting your mind settle on that fact. Carl is safe, Carl is fine. Something in your shoulders relaxed, and your breaths weren't as heavy in your lungs.
Alive, alive, alive, alive.
Your stomach twisted because you didn't know if Judith was.
Instinctively, you shot up in your spot, breaths hollowed out in your chest. You blinked a few times, bringing yourself back to the ground beneath your fingers. Chancing a look at Carl again, you found him still fast asleep.
You exhaled a long breath, you weren't going to sleep tonight. Every time you closed your eyes, you'd either see... them or Carl could be hurt, there was no good reason to sleep.
Shaking your hands, you stood up. You stood there a moment, taking in the night -the buzz of the bugs, the shine of the stars, and the (luckily) very distant groans of the walkers.
"Ya okay?"
You startled in place, shit. Rick was on watch duty, you forgot. You tried to volunteer, but he'd refused ("'Aven't seen you sleep a second."). You weren't sure how to feel about how attentively he seemed to watch you.
You bit at your lips a second, swallowing, and wiping your hands down your legs. Your eyes were fogging up, and your throat was clogged. You felt a little like you couldn't breathe-
"Y/N?"
You blinked, deliriously, and your eyes were watery now, and it felt somehow like your lungs were filled. A bit like every breath got stuck in your throat.
"Hey, hey, look at me, sweetheart."
And then, Rick was suddenly in front of you. You hadn't even heard him move, the pounding of your heart was so loud-
With the gentlest of movements, he held your jaw, bringing your eyes to his.
"Hey," he spoke gently, concern flitting through his eyes, "-hey. 'At's goin' on?"
You swallowed, something clawing up your throat (but your heart was softer in your head now), your eyes falling to his jacket, "I just-"
"C'mon, talk to me," he hummed, bringing his eyes to yours again -something heavy in his eyes, worry.
"I just," and you felt your voice catch in your throat, you felt the tears slip out of your eyes, "-I just... I just miss them, and... and every time I close my eyes, Rick, it's just-"
His thumbs rubbed away your tears, gently moving back and forth, "I know, baby, I know. I miss 'em too."
Something in your mind noted that 'baby' was new, but you weren't focused on that. Your mind was running at 100 miles an hour, and all you could see clearly was Rick.
Your body acted on instinct, as you threw yourself into him -digging your face into his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his neck. He seemed slow to react for a moment, but carefully, his hands came to wrap around your waist.
You took a deep breath in, just smelling the woodsy smell he always seemed to carry around with him. It made the tension in your body melt, and he seemed to notice it -tightening his grip slightly.
"I gotcha," he whispered, maybe like he was a little scared to break the moment, "-'s gonna be okay, I promise."
You fell asleep on his shoulder later that night, one of his arms tight along your side. And if he shushed everyone that morning afterward (wanting to keep you close as long as possible maybe), kissing your temple whenever you stirred, looking at you a little like you were the most precious thing in the world, you'd never know.
It was easier after that. Any time you felt it all coming back up, Rick would be right there, hand smoothed along your shoulder, pushing you into his side, or brushing his hand along yours while you walked. You weren't sure if you could get used to it all.
And then, a good day came.
Judith, baby Judith was back.
You felt the sob wrack up through your throat, as you smoothed your hand over her little hair. Your breaths were shaky but you were smiling, and so were both Rick and Carl. All of you were huddled together, crying, and for a split second, it felt like maybe you were a little family.
You bit back the thought but peeked up at Rick just to find him looking right back at you. Something in your chest fluttered.
Finding Alexandria was a little like a fever dream, all of you weren't trusting it, especially since Terminus. But eventually, something in you relaxed as you watched Carl know people his age and find friends. You weren't as scared anymore.
That being said, you had your own home, but it stayed empty. You were constantly in the Grimes' house. Whether for Carl, Judith, or Rick, you were always there. And Rick didn't seem to mind at all. (Sometimes you thought he preferred it.)
That day was a normal one, you'd crossed on over to the Grimes' -bouncing a little on your toes. It was your day to watch Judith, well, it always kind of ended up being a team effort at the end. But, if Rick had something to do, you'd be on baby duty.
Walking in like you always did, the house was eerily quiet.
You pursed your lips, "Rick?"
He called out, from the kitchen you'd guessed (you could hear the sizzle of a pan), "In 'ere!"
You moved with a practiced grace, smoothing around the piles of toys like you lived here (and in essence, you kind of did). Just as you entered the doorway, you started again.
"Hey, where are our kids?"
And then you stepped into the room and got a look at Rick. Clean-shaven Rick. Sharp jawline, blue eyes, Rick.
Your mind went completely blank.
He turned to you then, sort of smiling, "Our?"
Blinking, you cleared your throat, "Sorry, what?"
"You said," he was stepping closer, something shining in his eyes, "-our kids."
It was hard to focus, but you'd gathered what he said.
"Shit, sorry," you started, scrambling a little, "-I didn't mean to-"
"No, no," he dismissed, eyes intently focused on yours (somehow you think his facial hair distracted from his eyes, were they always that blue?), "-you're right, darlin'. 'Ey are as much yours as 'ey are mine."
You took a deep breath in, deflecting a little and motioning to his face, "When did you...?"
"This mornin'," he answered, turning back to the pan (breakfast, you guessed), "-why? It look 'at bad?"
Your head was spinning, but you answered anyway.
"What, no," you answered, instinctively, "-it looks good. Great, actually."
He smiled at you in a sort of way you couldn't read, wearing his pajamas and hair slightly tussled -your mouth went dry.
"Yeah?"
You willed everything in yourself to say something witty, playful, like normal. But he was still looking at you, focused, and all your brain could think was blue-
"Yeah," you answered quietly.
He hummed a moment, hand coming up to rub at his jaw. Calloused fingers against the most certainly smooth skin, you briefly thought about touching it yourself.
You cleared your throat, "Sorry, so where are th- our kids?"
Rick's eyes smoothed over your face a second before he smiled, shaking his head, and dropped his eyes back to the pan, "Judith's still sleepin', and Carl is at a friend's."
"Which friend?" you asked, instinctively.
"He's fine, baby," he laughed a little like he was testing the word, "-ere's no need to be worried."
Baby rattled around your head for a few seconds, especially coming from that face. The last time he called you that, you were on the verge of a mental breakdown. And come to think of it, with how you were reacting to a shaved face, maybe he was onto something.
"Grimes," you leveled, but there wasn't any bite.
"I'm serious," he added, looking at you (blue, blue) -trying to convey it to you.
You pursed your lips, deadpanning, "You forgot, didn't you?"
"Maybe," he smiled at you, almost fondly, and your knees nearly buckled.
God, you needed to get a hold of yourself.
"I'll figure it out later," you remarked -passively, "-What are you making?"
He seemed to pause, eyes skimming along you like he was suddenly taking you in, before stepping to the side, "Come n' see for yourself."
You had the spare thought that he was doing it on purpose, before swatting it away and gathering by his side. Mindlessly, your brain noted his elbow bumping into you and the swarm of body heat that radiated off of him. You blinked it away.
He had a few things going, typical breakfast stuff, but you did decisively notice what looked to be a single portion of your favorite.
"Is that-"
"For ya? Yeah," he answered, unflinchingly, "-'Figured I could be sweet today."
You quipped back, looking up at him, "What a change of pace, Grimes."
He laughed at that, your eyes smoothed over his smile before dropping back to the food. Your breaths felt a little hollow in your chest for an entirely different reason.
You stood there and helped portion of the food, focused on placing plates out for him to then fill. You could feel his eyes steady on you as you did so, just until he started portioning. You promptly grabbed one of the other foods and portioned it yourself.
As soon as you finished, Rick spoke up.
"Did ya mean it?"
You looked at him, curiously, "What?"
"Our kids," he answered, something flickering behind his eyes, "-Do ya really think of 'em as your own?"
"As long as I'm not... overstepping," you clarified, dropping the pan into the sink, "-yeah, of course, I do."
He smiled a little, the flicker stronger now, "Really?"
"Well, yeah," you laughed, a little uncertain now, "-Should I not?"
"No," he echoed out, something heavy in his tone, "-you should. 'Ey're yours."
"Then, why-"
""S just nice to 'ear," he explained, pulling another one of the pans into the sink -sliding in just beside you.
"Why?" you questioned.
Rick looked at you, eyes flickering along your face, seeming to decide on something, "Can I show ya somethin'?"
You quirked a brow, playfully, "What is this something?"
"A gift," he answered, naturally.
You blinked, a little deliriously, "For me?"
"Yeah," he hummed, taking your wrist in his hand (your brain turned to mush) and guiding you through the house, "-'Course it is."
"Where did you get a gift?"
"On a run," he answered, easily, pulling you into his bedroom before letting go. He wandered over to his closet.
"Why-" you laughed a little, "-Why were you thinking of me on a run?"
Rick didn't hesitate a second, hands skimming over some shelves, "I'm always thinkin' of ya."
Your lips snapped shut, as your eyes just followed him around the room.
Since he was so preoccupied, you let your eyes roam over his jaw, the angular lines of his nose, the curve of his Adam's apple, the slight push of his lips, and the curl that seemed to trail down his forehead. You almost adjusted it yourself, but you fought back the urge.
"'Ere it is," he sighed, relieved, before seeming to gather something up in his arms.
You tried to peek over his shoulder, but he decidedly kept them too raised.
"Ya ready?" He chimed, excitingly.
You quipped, smiling, "I was born ready, Grimes."
Rick laughed at that, and you bit back the grin that threatened to slip across your face. There was something so domestic about all of this, it made your breath rattle in your chest, and your heart skip a beat.
And then, he turned around.
Your breath caught in your throat.
He held in his hands, a brand-new soccer ball, still in the package. Your brain buzzed for a moment, it was so sentimental. It made your head spin, making you a little breathless. A grin grew wide along your face, lips curling up.
"No way," you muttered, leaning forward and skimming your fingers across it, "-that is so sappy, Grimes."
He laughed a little, and your eyes flicked to him where a pink dusted up to the top of his ears. Your smile shone even brighter.
"Figured you could let me and Carl try to gain a little on your record," he smiled.
"What was it again?" you grinned, taking the ball into your hands, "-Four to zero?"
"Six," he corrected, instinctively (like he remembered), "-Six to zero."
Wordlessly, you gently took the box into your hands, his eyes steady on you.
"How long did it take to find this?"
"I was lookin' for the past few runs," he answered -vaguely.
"Looking?" You questioned, "-You plan this out, Rick?"
He hummed, smiling, "Maybe."
You quirked a brow, not quite looking at him, "What's the occasion, Grimes?"
He fell quiet then, and you promptly dropped your smile and looked at him. Eyes skimming along his face, he didn't seem upset. He seemed entirely the opposite, actually.
Blue eyes looking at you like they always did.
"Rick?" You asked, concern smoothing through you, "-Everything alright?"
He smiled a little, shaking his head a little, "God, you're... you're... you're unbelievable."
"Um," you flustered a little, holding the ball tighter to you, "-is that a good or a bad thing?"
"Good," he answered, with probably the biggest grin, "-great, it's a great thin'."
"Yeah? Well," you muttered out, a little frazzled, "-um, thank you."
He laughed a little bit, then but it slowly dissipated into the air. Leaving you and him, and his crazy blue eyes (seriously, how have you never noticed that?).
Rick spoke breathlessly then, rushed as if it was just waiting to come out (like it was building, building, building, until it burst), "I love you."
You dropped the ball (and box) right onto your feet. It stung a little.
"Shit," you hissed, before scrambling, "-Wait, that wasn't to you. I... I just I hit my toes with the box, and it hurt-"
He smiled at you even brighter then, eyes dropping to your feet, "Ya alright?"
"Yeah, what," you cleared your throat, "-I'm fine. I'm just... a little in shock, I guess."
"Yeah?" He asked, something lilting in his tone and you almost felt like he got closer to you.
"Yeah," you breathed out, "-I just... I never could've imagined a man like you, um, loving me."
He was definitely getting closer, blue eyes flickering between the two of yours, "A man like me?"
"It's a good thing," you explained, "-You're just caring, and I love your kids, and-"
His face was breath away from yours. Your lips moved before you could think about it.
"-handsome," you finished a little breathlessly.
He grinned then, crinkling at his eyes, and something there, deep in the blue. You couldn't tell if it was mischievous or loving or maybe even teasing-
"Am I?"
Something in you snapped.
You practically jumped forward, arms wrapping around his neck, and lips pressing to his. Rick laughed into it (which made you laugh a little too), but his hands sank to your waist entirely on instinct.
It was a little desperate, as Rick tilted his head just the right way and seemed to pour everything into his lips. Which were very much already good on their own. It made you dizzy, and you nearly stumbled in your steps, but he held you a little tighter and kept you in place.
Before, pulling you forward even more.
It sent a shock through your spine and made the breath slink out of your lungs.
Speaking of breath-
You pulled back, taking a deep breath in -mind a little hazy, "Jesus Christ."
Rick laughed, but still pressed forward, leaving little kisses on your lips -surface level. Again, and again, and again, and again-
Laughing, you moved your hands to his face, pulling him back, "Rick, you need to breathe, yeah?"
"Not as bad as I need ya," he retorted, before pressing kisses along your jaw.
It made your head spin, and maybe you were a little dizzy but you didn't think it was from the lack of oxygen.
"Rick," you urged, laughing.
He mindlessly moved down to your neck, a little like he couldn't get enough. It zapped through your spine again.
"Rick," you repeated, maybe with a little less laughter, "-c'mon, I have to tell you something."
He groaned, before pulling back to face you, blue eyes focused. Rick looked at your smile, and bit down his own.
You took a breath in, and cradled his face again (his skin was soft), "I love you too."
He grinned big and wide then, something shining in his eyes, "Ya don't know how long I 'ave waited to 'ear 'at."
"How long?"
He answered, with ease, "Since I saw ya givin' Carl your food."
"Rick," you almost soothed, "-that was forever ago. Why didn't you say something?"
"Was never the right time," he hummed, kissing you at the hinge of your jaw, "-I was goin' through somethin' and then ya were."
You hummed a moment, finally pushing back the loose curl.
"And I just-" he exhaled a breath, "-I wanted to make sure ya felt the same. Didn't want the kids to lose ya."
"Even if I didn't love you, Grimes," you soothed, trailing your hands along his jaw, "-They would've never lost me."
He just looked at you then, a little like he couldn't believe you were in front of him. Couldn't believe you were real.
"They're our kids," you offered with a teasing smile, "-are they not?"
"Yeah, 'ey are."
And without another breath, he kissed you so hard that it felt like your breath was knocked out of your lungs. But there was no way in hell that you were stopping.
You'd waited long enough for this.
He grinned against your lips, mindlessly kicking the soccer ball out of the way to get closer to you. Whispers of 'Ours' between every press of lips like he couldn't believe it. Or maybe like it was all he'd ever wanted.
And apparently, he had waited just as long.
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unsoundedcomic · 2 days
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Genuine praise and applause here, you've achieved something unprecedented to me as a reader: I feel shaken and uncertain about a protagonist I once liked, but also still completely invested in their story.
Right now (I've just read 18-80 to 84) I feel you've struck a great balance of surprise (at Duane) and trust (in your story). Perhaps because no single choice of Duane's felt out-of-character, as they slowly added up? I honestly can't predict how I'll feel about him and his flaws by the end of Unsounded, but for once, I'm enjoying that unease! Because of the care you've taken in building your characters so far, I at least still have faith in *you* to reach a satisfying ending.
Oh this should be a question, hmm. Were you at all tempted to foreshadow Duane's recent/future choices more obviously (by character or plot), softening a bit of the impact for a smoother story? Because again, I'm glad you didn't – perfectly threaded needle to keep me captivated.
So glad you're having a good time!
I hope Duane's current state is pretty well telegraphed, though I know it can be hard to remember past instances when the webcomic delivery spaces everything out. He's repeatedly shown himself to be hypocritical and selective in regards to kids. The army story ended with him continuing to train babies in the killing arts and accepting a false narrative that he had never let one of them die. This led right into him turning a blind eye to the Litriya twins for the sake of helping the Aldish invaders get to the construct facility. He felt AWFUL about this - we saw it - and tried to make up for it, but even that very action was already going against what was said in the black water: God is not attainable by transaction. Duane was trying to erase that debt to Litriya. It doesn't work that way! Like Claggart said, you got to acknowledge your mistakes and keep moving.
Duane started to. He truly did, when he spoke to Lori and the Peaceguard, then moved to go defend the shrine. But then Mikaila was there in the sky and all development was cut short in tandem with his poor rotten head.
What did he see when he and Toma and Elka approached Port Morstorben's ravaged gate? Not all the dead bodies. Not a vision of Sara asking him to help defend her people. Instead Duane saw Lemuel and Leysa and Mikaila. The eels have always known exactly how to steer Duane towards his worst self, and they use his best self to do it. They use his blind love for his family, his loyalty towards his homeland, and his faith in God. These can all be fantastic attributes or they can make a monster.
So yeah, I feel like the foreshadowing is there pretty thick. What makes it still compelling, I hope, is Duane's selfishness and reluctance to change are so often counterbalanced by his earnest desire to make things better and to help the people around him as individuals, in the moment. There's not an ounce of real malice in the man, but when Duane stews, he often talks himself into making the wrong choice. When he acts with all the compulsion of a big-hearted protector, he tends towards selfless compassion.
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batneko · 3 days
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for the last couple days I've been thinking about a Dungeon Meshi AU with the girl version of Laios from the magic mirror bonus page. Like, let's say she got married at 16, and ten years and two kids later she's escorting her youngest to magic school and planning to visit with Falin for a couple days before heading home. She finds out Falin and Marcille (I can't decide if everybody should be gender-swapped or only Laios. If Falin is The Boy he'd probably be expected to become village chief despite having creepy ghost magic, but maybe Laios's husband turned out to be a good leader so there's an unspoken "if Falin doesn't come back would that really be so bad?" among the villagers. But if Falin and Marcille are still girls that could lead to some interesting Deconstructing Gender Norms stuff. I just don't know!) have been planning to go to The Island and study a real dungeon, and instantly flips from quiet and demure (masking HARD) to excited and full of energy, and Marcille asks why Laios doesn't just come along. It'll only be a few months, both kids are in boarding schools, won't her husband understand?
The answer to that is no, but Laios has been dreading going back home for exactly the reason that it'll just be her and her husband now, no more kids as a buffer. She'll have nothing to do but take care of the house and be a Good Wife. Her husband isn't a bad person, but he's never understood her and never bothered to try, he just gets frustrated that she can't remember their guests' names, that she only wants to talk about "weird" things, that she cares more about her letters from Falin than she does taking care of her appearance.
Laios lets just enough of this slip that Marcille misunderstands and thinks her husband is a brute, and Falin has always known that being a housewife didn't suit Laios at all, so neither of them argue when Laios decides to abandon her marriage with only a brief letter back home.
On the trip Laios starts to learn magic, but she turns out to take to combat even better. Her encyclopedic (literally, it all comes from encyclopedias) knowledge of monster anatomy means she'll have the best chance out of the three of them at physically fighting things off if they can't find a trustworthy fighter to hire. But overall she's responsible for organizing their supplies and planning the expeditions. Having experience running a household comes in handy!
Of course, the three of them are pretty naive, and they run through Marcille's savings faster than expected, but they're all so interested in the dungeon that they're willing to stick out the tough times. Laios is so happy to finally be able to Be Herself around people that she starts talking about cooking and eating monsters without realizing that's a step too far for most folks. Falin is, of course, completely supportive, but Marcille and Namari shut it down most of the time. (I'm not sure where Shuro is or if he should be gender-swapped as well. Chilchuck wouldn't join the party until they've become successful enough to pay his rates. If he's gender-swapped this is her way of dealing with an empty nest.) However one day Senshi happens to overhear Laois talking about it while they pass each other and they become fast friends. Marcille isn't sure if s/he wants Laios's obsession with monsters-as-food to continue, but can't resist encouraging this because forbidden love affairs are peak romance. But no they're genuinely just friends and the thought never crosses either of their minds.
Marcille has no idea Laios has actually already had a couple of extramaritals with orc men.
(that's all I got so far!)
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munchmemes · 52 minutes
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taylor swift lyrics, the tortured poets department edition, part two
guilty as sin?
▸ my boredom's bone-deep. ▸ am i allowed to cry? ▸ i'm seeing visions, am i bad? or mad? or wise? ▸ one slip and i'm falling back into the hedge maze. ▸ oh, what a way to die. ▸ i keep recalling things we never did. ▸ how i long for our trysts. ▸ how can i be guilty as sin? ▸ i keep these longings locked inside a vault. ▸ someone told me there's no such things as bad thoughts, only your actions talk. ▸ they're gonna crucify me anway. ▸ what if they way you hold me is actually what's holy? ▸ i choose you and me religiously.
who's afraid of little old me?
▸ the "who's who?`" of "who's that?" is poised for the attack. ▸ you don't get to tell me about 'sad'. ▸ if you wanted me dead, you should've just said. nothing makes me feel more alive. ▸ who's afraid of little old me? you should be. ▸ the scandal was contained, the bullet had just grazed. ▸ at all costs, keep your good name. ▸ you don't get to tell me you feel bad. ▸ is it a wonder i broke? ▸ let's hear one more joke. then we could all just laugh until i cry. ▸ i was tame, i was gentle till the circus life made me mean. ▸ they say they didn't do it to hurt me but what if they did? ▸ i want to snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me. ▸ you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me. ▸ isn't that what they all said? that i'm fearsome and i'm wretched and i'm wrong. ▸ you lured me and you hurt me and you taught me. ▸ you caged me and then you called me crazy. ▸ i am what i am 'cause you trained me.
i can fix him (no really i can)
▸ the jokes that [you/they] told across the bar were revolting and far too loud. ▸ they shake their heads, saying "god help [them]" when i tell 'em you're the one. ▸ i can fix him, no really i can. and only i can. ▸ i could see it from a mile away. ▸ you had a halo of the highest grade, you just hadn't met met yet. ▸ come close, i'll show you heaven if you'll be an angel all night. ▸ trust me, i can handle me a dangerous [man/woman].
loml
▸ we were just kids, babe. ▸ i don't mind, it takes time. ▸ i thought i was better safe than starry-eyed. ▸ i felt aglow like this. never before and never since. ▸ you and i went from one kiss to getting married. ▸ you said i'm the love of your life about a million times. ▸ a conman sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme. ▸ i felt a hole like this never before and ever since. ▸ what we thought was for all time was momentary. ▸ i wish i could un-recall how we almost had it all. ▸ the coward claimed he was a lion. ▸ i'll still see it until i die. you're the loss of my life.
i can do it with a broken heart
▸ i can show you lies. ▸ i'm a real tough kid, i can handle my shit. ▸ they said 'you gotta fake it 'til you make it' and i did. ▸ you said you'd love me all your life but that life was too short. ▸ i can do it with a broken heart. ▸ i'm so depressed, i act like it's my birthday every day. ▸ i cry a lot but i am so productive, it's an art. ▸ you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart. ▸ i can hold my breath, i've been doing it since [you/they] left. ▸ i'm miserable and nobody even knows!
the smallest man who ever lived
▸ was any of it true? ▸ now you know what it feels like. ▸ i don't miss what we had. ▸ in public, you showed me off then sank in stoned oblivion. ▸ you didn't measure up in any measure of a man. ▸ were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? ▸ good riddance 'cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden. ▸ i would've died for your sins. instead i just died inside. ▸ in plain sight you hid but you are what you did. ▸ i'll forget you but i'll never forgive.
the alchemy
▸ this happens once every few lifetimes. ▸ these chemicals hit me like white wine. ▸ what if i told you i'm back? ▸ the hospital was a drag. worst sleep i ever had. ▸ ditch the clowns, get the crown. ▸ what if i told you we're cool? ▸ honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy? ▸ where's the trophy?
clara bow
▸ all your life, did you know you'd be picked like a rose? ▸ i'm not trying to exaggerate but i think i might die. ▸ this town is fake but you're the real thing. ▸ take the glory, give everything. ▸ promise to be dazzling. ▸ you're the new god we're worshipping. ▸ beauty is a beast that roars down on all fours, demanding more. ▸ it's hell on earth to be heavenly. ▸ them's the breaks, they don't come gently.
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Aroace Alastor
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Hoo boy here we go- This one might make some people mad at me, so I'll preface by saying I do not want to start a fight and as long as you respect my business, I'll respect yours. But let's get this over with-
First off, I genuinely don't understand how some people can see the Ace-In-The-Hole quote and still believe that Alastor is only intended to be asexual and not also aromantic. Yes, the term Rosie used for purpose of the pun was 'ace', but can we look at the context of that moment before jumping to conclusions?
Rosie, motioning to Charlie: "Oh, who's this you brought with you? Come now, Alastor, she's much too young for you! Oh, I'm just kidding. I know you're an ace in the hole!"
Her original statement implies nothing sexual, only that he's involved in a relationship with Charlie, and she follows it up with why she knows that couldn't be because he's an 'ace in the hole'. I don't think you have to read too far between the lines to see that.
I would also like to say that when Vivienne has spoken about his orientation before, I recall her saying that she didn't want to confirm him being aromantic so that she wouldn't 'ruin anyone's fun', which I just feel like is an odd thing to say if she wasn't already explicitly picturing him as aroace. If she thought he had romantic attraction, why wouldn't she just say that? What fun would that ruin? I also feel like keeping things like this ambiguous just to appease the shippers is a little weird, but I digress-
And to those of you who I know are saying "But aromantic people can be in relationships too!!" *deep inhale* yeah I know. I'm not gonna pretend you're not right about that, but there are also aroace people who have exactly 0 interest in romance or sex at all. This is the part of the post that really is based on how I interpret certain moments, but to me he is absolutely one of those people. I don't really know where people get any vibes of him being interested in that stuff. I have never once looked at him and thought "Yeah I could see him in a romantic relationship with *insert character here*". Even aside from attraction in general, since that's what we'd be talking about at this point anyway, he just seems like the kind of guy who'd rather work and live independently instead of relying on anyone, whether practically or emotionally (which is also probably part of the reason he never joined the Vees, but that's another topic entirely). Hell, I'm pretty sure he's in heavy denial about even developing any kind of care or friendship with the people at the hotel (ie. the episode 8 scene with him and Niffty).
The only ships I see him involved in with people he doesn't hate (so ignoring RadioApple, RadioHusk, and StaticRadio. But to be real, maybe the fact all his main ships are enemies to lovers coded says something about the whole situation, but that's just me-) are Charlastor - which I will not even try to discuss here, people aren't gonna like this post as it is - and RadioRose. Rosie and him would at least be fair, if it weren't for one thing (which is also personal opinion on my end), and I don't know exactly how to word it. I'm tempted to say she has wingwoman vibes? But she knows he's aro, so that's not the right word, but there's vibes of like, she probably did act as a wingwoman before she realized that about him or something.. There's also something about her joking around like "Oh this is the girl? You have a girlfriend and I'm only now meeting her?" is almost giving motherly behavior. Idk man they're just besties to me, I could see them in a QPR though (not that they'd probably label it that way, considering the word queerplatonic is likely just complete gibberish to Alastor lmao).
So to summarize: It feels incredibly likely, if not practically canon, that Alastor was written with aromanticism in mind, even if Vivienne refuses to explicitly state it. Subtext and not-that-subtle implications can say just as much about a character as word of God, especially when that God has explicitly told us why she won't confirm or deny this information. Do I think any of this will stop people from shipping him romantically with literally any other character? No ofc it won't, and that's okay, that's just what fandoms do. I do think there's something to say for the fact the one aroace (or even at the very least asexual) character gets constantly shipped with everyone else in the cast, but this post is long enough I think. The only point of posting this is that I wanted to get information out there in one post to say "Hey, let's look a little bit past the surface for a second before saying there's no proof of him being aromantic"
Anyway, thanks for reading, I hope you at least took something away from this
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blade-that-was-broken · 16 hours
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HC for the soldier au, you know how kids in the US write those letters to soldiers overseas that the schools never like check before sending out so they say the most unhinged shit. Anyway a lot of the time they try to send those letters to squads of soldiers from the same state or area that the soldiers from the squad are from (this is not always the case but sometimes it is). Anyway basically one time one of branches letters made it to the front of a war that JD was fighting in and JD went feral trading and bribing people to get that letter cause branch actually signed that thing with his first and last name and it’s now one of jds prized possessions that he laminated and took with him everywhere.
Branch is touched but also super embarrassed when he finds this out because 3rd grader Branch was going through it and was a weird ass kinda emo 9 year old due to the family drama going down at the time so the letter says something like “thank you for being a soldier so smart kids like me don’t have to die in war” (this is a quote taken from a real unhinged soldier letter that a real soldier in Afghanistan actually received) with a crayon drawing of like a guy getting shot.
Headcanon no more! It's canon now. I love this so much
In the end, it was Dickory who got it.
John was pretty sure he stole it but he didn't care.
All of the guys - even that sheep's face, Chaz - knew about John's strange situation and the forced estrangement from the brothers he could not find. It was the one thing that John didn't really shut up about and most of them let it go, passing it off as sadness or grief or whatever, since he hadn't seen or heard from them in years. It was entirely possible he never would. And considering how John normally was - fairly quiet, kind of eerily still sometimes - they let it pass. Except for Chaz but well, no one cared what Chaz wanted.
Not every soldier in their platoon received a letter from a kid that day but a few did. And the moment John heard the name, he practically went feral.
Which, in hindsight, they all probably should have seen coming. He was practically raised in the woods. And if how John spoke about it was any indication, it was far in there.
"Yeah dude," someone said at another table. "Our squad got them too. Those kids are insane."
John, Dickory and Growly Pete were in a mess hall lunch room. Although John tended to avoid it, especially when Chaz was there, as fights were prone to break out for some reason, Dickory pretty much twisted his arm for it. Not that it was hard. JD and Dickory were pretty close, surprisingly so. It probably didn't help that John was a softie when it came to people he cared about. Which was most of his squad.
"What happened to normal names like Steve or Bethany? Parents are comin' up with crazy weird names these days!"
"I got a Dawn," another guy replied. "That's not too bad."
"Better than mine."
"What name was on yours?"
"Get this. Kid's name was Branch. Who does that?"
John went rigid within the moment and both Dickory and Pete noticed right away, glancing up from their food. "Nein," Dick grumbled with his nose wrinkling. "What is this? Why are you like this?"
He didn't respond, just stood up and whipped around to the other table. The others jumped, a little surprised at the sudden and slightly menacing presence. "Can we help you...?"
"Do you still have it?"
"Have what?"
"The letter."
"From the weirdo named kid?"
"Hmmmm."
The other soldiers glanced at one another. "Nw. One of the other squad guys found it hilarious and wanted it."
"Who?"
"What is your problem?"
"WHO?"
And that was how it started. John spent every spare minute tracking down that letter, which kept switching hands constantly. It was like John was chasing a butterfly in the wind. The squad quickly learned not to say anything about it or how John was acting. Of course Chaz decided not to listen.
He got pain for his troubles.
The rest of the platoon heard rumors and liked playing around. Suddenly it was kind of a game to keep it out of John's hands. It wasn't out of malice. If anyone knew who it was or what it meant, they wouldn't dare. Keeping a soldier from a loved one's communication was shameful and an unspoken rule.
Then one night Dickory hopped on John's bed, almost crushing his legs and shoved the paper in John's face. "Di-" John jumped and then sputtered. "What is this?"
"What do you think, you fool?" Dickory huffed. "I got it for you."
John stared at it. "Is this..."
"Ja," Dick nodded.
"Did you... dude, did you steal this?"
He shrugged. "Does it matter? You have it now and this foolish game can cease. I understand what it is even if these other idiots do not."
"Thanks man... this, this means..."
"A lot. I know. Are ya going to open it?"
John did so carefully and barked out a short laugh. "He's funny."
"Is it your brother?"
"Yeah," he sighed, wistfully. "He signed his full name. Do you want to read it?"
"I don't have to. I got it for you not for... what do they say? Giggles?"
John laughed lightly. "I think you'll like this."
"Dear Soldier,
Would you like to trade places with me? I think you could handle my stupid family better and I'd be okay with marching around and learning how to hold a gun.
My brothers are dumb, eat all the food in the house and always want to go out watching music. You listen to music, not watch it.
My teacher says I need to thank you so thanks for doing your marching and shooting so smart people like me don't have to. But really, if you want a break and like watching music - call me. I could use a break.
But I guess do the shooting. Don't get shot. I'm pretty sure that is your job anyway.
If there are any girls there marry her, get it over with before you get old and ugly when your done. Best to do it now. Unless you are already old and ugly well then sorry.
Have you ever fought a shark? Some soldiers are on boats so I thought maybe you have. Punch the nose. unless you are one of those in the woods. Don't run from a bear. It'll catch you. Good luck.
Branch
"Your brother is... random," Dickory noted, curiously. "Where did the wife and shark come in?"
"He's like, nine, Dick," John smiled. "He's just a kind."
"One day, John Dory, you're going to meet him again and I am entirely sure you will be best friends."
"One can only hope."
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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months
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DCxDP Fanfic idea: Wrong Number
Bruce prides himself in keeping all of his networks secured. If he didn't make it himself, he had the funds and connections to get him the best working on his systems.
He had backup plans in case the systems were ever hacked, of course, but he had yet to encounter a cyber attack that wasn't beaten away by his firewalls or his team.
Babs and Tim were far more feral when booting out unwanted guests. The level of protection was also transferred to his other systems that weren't Batman-related, just to make sure the connection between Bruce and Batman was never made.
That's why he never really checks his personal phone's caller ID, not the one he gave out as Brucie Wayne, but the one Bruce used for his real life without any masks- civilian or vigilante. The only ones who had the number- and the access- were his children and Alfred.
Not even the Justice League- those who were aware of his identity- knew of this number.
Bruce is in the middle of typing up a report for the next Wayne Board meeting when his personal phone rings. He figures it's Dick giving him a call to update him on his drive home or maybe Jason, as his son was planning on going to college.
"Go for Papa Bruce," He says, knowing his kids hate his phone greeting and doing it deliberately to spite them.
There is a long pause where he can't help but smirk thinking his child is either rolling their eyes or cringing too hard to properly speak. Eventually, a voice cracks over the speaker.
"Hello. I'm selling cookies to raise money for my own star. Would like to buy a box from me?" says a boy, not one he has taken in. The voice is young maybe not even double digits yet. Bruce is alarmed.
"Who are you?! How did you get this number?" He demands, yanking his phone to his face and seeing, with a chill, a phone number out of state.
His system had been compromised. By a child. By accident.
"My name is Danny!" The boy chirps. "I sell cookies. Like the Girl Scouts, but I'm a boy, and I don't scout."
"That's rather fantastic, lad. What kind of cookies are you selling?" Bruce asks to keep the boy on the line while sending an email blast to the others. It's a string of numbers that are code for compromise so they all know to close any communication channel until it's safe to get back on.
"Chocolate chip. Mint Slim. Oatmeal and peanut butter. I made them myself!"
Right. Bruce hooks up his phone, tracing the call. The signal bounces off the call, swinging up to a salute and falling back down to earth. In seconds he has the boy's location. It pings in a small town right outside of Star City.
He sends Barry a private message. His friend is already on the way to the location. He'll get the boy in a few seconds.
"How much for a box of chocolate chips? Those are my favorite." Bruce tells the boy, voice whimsical as his Brucie persona demands.
In an unsure tone, the boy pauses, then whispers, "I don't know. No one ever let me get this far."
"How about twenty for a box of dozen? I'll buy five boxes for each of my kids that live at him," Bruce tells him, and the boy gasps.
"That could buy me one whole night in a hotel!"
Bruce's insides freeze. What did he mean-
"Hey! No! Let go!" Danny suddenly screams. Bruce's heart launches- he hates it when kids get hurt, especially those that sound like Danny- until Barry's voice comes over the speaker.
"I got him, Mr. Wayne. Thank you for alerting the Justice League Hotline." That's code for This is not a threat to you Batman and Bruce allows himself to relax just a little.
"Narc!" The boy shouts, outraged, before the call drops. Barry is likely taking over the situation, which means Bruce can leave it in his capable hands.
After reassuring his kids that he is fine and that they are all safe, he suits up and meets the Flash in the Watch Tower. There, he learns that Danny is only seven years old and has been living on the streets for a while.
The boy had been surviving by baking some cookies to sell on the side of the street- where did he bake them? The boy would not say- until he got the bright idea to try to sell through phone calls like he had seen on TV.
He punched in random numbers at the community center phone and gave his pitch about a star, thinking people would be more willing to buy from him if he had an excellent reason.
Barry had left him with CPS, but he looked devastated about that. It turned out that Danny was a meta and had likely been kicked out of his home once it was found out based on what he said of his parents.
Bruce felt he should assure Barry that Danny was fine and look into his placement to help settle his more sensitive teammate's nerves.
He was unhappy that Danny was not in a good placement; there were far too many reports from a concerned neighbor to make him think it was a safe place. Given the fact that placement had a lot of meta kids that "fell through the cracks," Bruce worried he had just stumbled across a trafficking ring.
He would sick Barry and Jason on them. Just to ensure they wouldn't see the light of day again.
Still, that did not fix his mistake with Danny, the little cookie seller.
Bruce hacked into the system to move Danny. He thought about where he would move the young child but ultimately had him in Wayne Manor.
Just until he could confirm that he would be safe. He certainly didn't think about the adorable little boy who called him with his heart in his hand and got sent to a terrible place for three weeks because of Bruce.
Danny arrived at Wayne Manor with a happy little bounce and a chipper outlook on life than Bruce was expecting. "If it isn't Mr. Narc!"
God, he going to adopt the boy, isn't he?
(Danny has been thrown into a different universe, aged down to a child. He survived by overshadowing people into letting him spend the night baking cookies.
He was thrown into a somewhat typical home, but the nosy neighbor down the street took far too much notice of his overshadowing, and now he was being moved again.
Maybe he can terrorize Mr. Narc now instead? )
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gffa · 10 months
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Dick Grayson: "Relax, I've got sixty hours in the simulator!" SMASH CUT TO: DICK HAVING PLAYED 60 HOURS OF A RACING GAME IN THE CIRCUS I cannot express how hard I lost my shit at this, because they are currently in the middle of trying to outrun an actual firestorm being rained down on them by Firefly, Dick just broke his promise to save himself if things went down, he dragged his 280lb mentor into the Batmobile and probably barely reaches the pedals because he's still like eleven years old and Batman is FULL FORCE YELLING AT HIM for disobeying direct orders and this CHAOS GREMLIN CHILD HAS THE ABSOLUTE NERVES OF STEEL TO SAY RIGHT TO BATMAN'S FACE "Relax, I've got sixty hours in the simulator!" when he knows Batman knows Batman doesn't have a simulator and HE MEANT THAT HE'D PLAYED A BUNCH OF RACING GAMES. Let's be real, Bruce didn't put that kid on a dangerous path, Bruce put a fucking leash on that kid so he was maybe 5% less dangerous and likely to get himself killed and HE WORKED A MIRACLE TO GET THIS FAR.
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tapakah0 · 10 months
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(I wouldn't be able to fully show all the emotions in a limited space on the canvas, so the other half… in the form of a sketchy animatic. Be sure to watch with sound)
pt. 4 | pt. 6 And now… let me say a few words… I started all this just to show the death of Raph. I didn't want to make his death sad or tragic, it should be grandiose, worthy of a real hero, worthy of an older brother. "Like a boss". You may be tired of seeing his self-sacrifice in any form, but all the options that I saw … yes, they are good, but they are not at all on the scale that Raph is capable of. They're having a world war, all the brothers have been thrashing these aliens like kids in the movie, and all I get is Raph pinned down by the rubble?? (I only like this version when he's already a robot, but I don't like it at all when he's alive, still powerfull (because, again, their ninpo most likely connected to their feelings, and Raph is the one who can use full out of it alongside with Mikey) Raph is terribly strong, if he were alive to the very end, I'm sure he would scare the krang on a par with Donnie, because, firstly, Mikey is not so scary for them because of the side effect of his ninpo, secondly, Leo lost his ninpo. So…even if briefly and rudely enough, but I wanted to show how strong the effect of Raph's death had on everyone, not just to forget about him later. (This character is very difficult for me myself, unfortunately, I can’t convey all the little things of his character and … ha ha, I can’t basically draw him correctly… mmm …) (Anyway... there will be some more parts and maybe one more episode... I'm not sure... and I'm still struggling to draw the way I like... unsuccessfully so far... khm) (Thanks to someone, my thoughts are now completely filled with the thought of finally getting back to Casey, so I can't think straight… I'm in Hell right now)
Song: Two Steps From Hell - Star Sky
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monicahar · 10 months
Text
“thanks for the flowers!”
“what flowers?”
in which they find out you receive a gift from someone that isn't them.
characters; wanderer, alhaitham, kaveh
; i keep seeing that damn tiktok 😐 gender neutral reader, fluff, crack,
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WANDERER eyes you skeptically, suspicion being evident on his pale features as he scans your expression up and down. has he already caught on to your little prank?
“first of all, who in their right mind would court you? and with some sappy flowers as well?”
you return his unamused gaze, finding him very unfunny.
“you do know that you're dating me, right?”
“unfortunately.” he clicks his tongue, further leaning towards your face, brows still furrowed as if he's trying to decipher something, gazing at you with an unreadable expression that has your resolve crumbling. “is this another one of your antics to get a rise out of me? if so, it's not working.”
his lips break out into a grin upon watching your eyes widen. but your shock doesn't last long—him immediately seeing through your silly scheme isn't an unexpected outcome, funnily enough.
“you're too serious sometimes.” you pout at him whilst he scoffs, “just humor me. what would you actually do if i managed to receive flowers from another?”
“it's simple—you can't.” comes his swift and confident reply, offending you as you stare at him incredulously, weighing the implication of his words.
“you speak of me like i'm the most unattractive person in teyvat—what do you mean i can't?”
“you're an idiot. would i have really chosen you if you were unattractive in any way?” he crosses his arms before facing you completely, indigo hues staring directly into yours.
“i already eliminated all those who dare steal you from me.”
...?
you freeze on the spot, processing what you've just heard.
“...excuse me?”
“—just kidding. i'm no longer that type of person, hah.” he huffs out a derisive laugh, yet his humorous farce does not meet his eyes.
not finding any comfort in his supposed testament of it only being a joke, you opt to stare at him confusingly in return. weirdo.
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ALHAITHAM, much like the wanderer, catches on to the prank immediately. whether it's intuition, scarily precise deduction or just the way you generally act weird when it comes to lying to his face—he still figured you out in the end like it's nothing.
but unlike the wanderer, he decides to humor you and play along. what a good boyfriend.
“...you mean you didn't give me the flowers?” you flutter your lashes at him, a horrible and terribly inefficient way to convince him that the whole thing with the flowers is actually real. alhaitham suddenly has the rare urge to laugh. since when did you act like this?
alhaitham shifts in his seat. “no. who do you think it's from?”
“hm.” you hum thoughtfully, bringing a finger to your chin as if in deep thought. the scribe briefly wonders how far you're willing to take this joke. but he digresses—the chances of him actually getting mad at you are akin to that of kaveh finally shutting up—
“maybe kaveh? he grew an interest in flowers recently, so i've heard. maybe he sent some as like a sign of friendship or something along those lines...there's no way it means something else, riiiiiight?”
alhaitham pauses his train of thought.
speak of the devil.
momentarily doubting his conclusion that you're just pulling a prank, he quietly glowers at you as if silently telling you to take back your words.
“what about him?”
you immediately cower upon the drop in his tone—raising your arms in defense when alhaitham moves to stalk closer to you. “i was joking! i didn't get any flowers from anyone and last time i conversed with kaveh was when i—”
“let's go.” he grabs the back of your collar and drags you along, a newfound heavy weight in his footsteps as an indescribable and uncomfortable feeling creeps up on his neck.
“i really was just joking, 'haitham! i was bored and i wanted to annoy you for a bit! i swear!”
even if it wasn't true, the thought of kaveh gifting you flowers without his knowledge—
alhaitham's expression subconsciously turns sour. quite unlucky that you couldn't witness the extremely scarce sight of jealousy on your boyfriend as you are comically dragged against your will behind him.
“the nearest flower shop is just around the corner. tell me if anything piques your interest.” he says in way that has no room for argument. he is getting you flowers now.
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KAVEH falls for it, obviously. not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed outside his designated profession, you see.
“i don't remember buying any flowers...” he mutters to himself, the gears in his head turning. it's almost laughable when he finally pieces your words together, a look of disbelief painfully present on his faxe but by some miracle, you resisted the urge to burst out in giggles right then and there. “wait...i didn't send any!”
“is that so...then who would send me flowers other than you?” you edge him on, instigating at its finest, much poking a sleeping bear with a stick while you circle it tauntingly.
an actual enraged kaveh is something you've never seen before, just some tantrums and endless ranting about some clients and his roommate. you've always wanted to see it—just not directed at you, hopefully.
“that's...ah, people already know you're dating me though, so it can't be someone hitting on you. maybe it's just from a relative or—”
“really?” you tilt your head, feigning a bit of confusion. “then i suppose i should keep these red roses then. i'll ask tighnari how to keep them alive, i guess.”
“w-wait, wait—could you repeat that?”
“hm?” you face him, “i'll ask tighnari?”
“no, the one before that.”
“...i'll keep the red roses?” you had to hold yourself back from grinning ear to ear when his eyes widen.
it's not unexpected that someone versed in the beauty of art would recognize one of the most common flower's meaning. quite the handy trivia.
he immediately stands up, grabbing your hand in tow as you yelp in surprise at his abruptness.
“kaveh?!”
“those flowers mean love! like, actual romantic love! i'll burn it for you right now! where'd you put it!?” the intensity of his ruby gaze sends shudders down your spine.
“it's not like i reciprocate it—”
“still, no one other than me should be sending those...!” kaveh tightens his grip on your hands, “i don't like the idea of someone hitting on you. i can't let anyone attempt to take you away from me...”
you blink. “kaveh...”
“—that's why show it to me now! or i'll bite you!”
“okay, okay! jeez...”
now...how are you going to break the news to him that it was actually yellow roses, and most definitely not from an admirer?
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the biggest hater of my work is myself. wtf am i writing bruh ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ
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sp0o0kylights · 6 months
Text
Whole thing on A03
It didn't matter how much Steve explained. Not one member of the Party was going to get it. 
Tommy and Carol would, but then, they were no longer on speaking terms. A fact that hurt even if it was for the best--particularly in times like these, because they got it. 
They understood how he had been ensnared with the very same wealth people mocked him for. What it meant when his parents demanded Steve drop everything and go on vacation, his own plans be damned. 
They knew, because their families had done much the same, and so the lives they led also were tethered to leashes made of their parents' design. 
Dustin, whose mother bent over backwards to try and better her kid’s life, didn’t even have a frame of reference for this kind of thing, let alone sympathy. 
"Do they not understand you have a job?" Dustin asked incredulously, and Steve didn't have the emotional bandwidth to explain that his parents didn't consider working at Family Video to be a real job. 
As far as they were concerned, Steve could quit if he had to, and then go find another job when they were done using him to play the nice, All-American family. 
Likely for business purposes.
"They aren't the type to care." Steve said instead. 
It was easier than getting into it.
(Easier than explaining the BMW wasn't in his name, but his parents. 
How his money went into a bank account they had access to. 
That practically everything he owned was actually owned by Richard and Stella Harrington, and both were quick to remind him of that fact the second they felt Steve was acting out of line. 
And boy, had he been acting out of line. 
 Getting into fights. 
Turning their punishment of working a job they picked specifically for the humiliating outfit, into the far worse public embarrassment of being involved in a mall fire--an embarrassment because Steve had "lost" the keys to the BMW, had "put himself in danger" playing hero instead of letting the perfectly capable firefighters do it, then “paraded around” with bruises all over his face, racking up medical bills. 
Truly a sin for someone who hadn’t made it into college.) 
So no, this vacation they demanded Steve drop everything for  was not anything close to a reward, or even something they were doing to spend time together. There was a reason they needed Steve, and as far as they were concerned, Steve was at their beck and call until he shaped up and got his life back on track. 
His own plans be damned. 
"That's not fair though!" Dustin burst out and Steve sighed in relief, because here at least, he knew what to do to distract his younger friend.
 “We planned our trip months ago!” Dustin continued, looking two seconds away from giving in and stomping his foot. 
The kid might have been smarter than Steve--smarter than most people really--by a hell of a lot, but he was still fourteen. 
Smarts, Steve knew, didn't exactly equate to emotional intelligence, and it definitely didn't stop rampaging hormones.
Ice cream on the other hand, was a great aid in both areas. 
"You better be making this up to us." Dustin threatened thirty minutes later, spoon wedged deep into a sundae. “We can’t do, like, half the stuff we were going to do without you!” 
“I'm sure you guys didn’t need me to play ghost runners or whatever.” Steve said, but was quick to back down when Dustin nearly threw his spoon at him. 
Rather than antagonizing him more, Steve dutifully raised his hand to put over his heart. "I swear on your mom that I’ll make it up to you.”  
Dustin rolled his eyes, but otherwise, finally, let the whole thing go. 
Stupidly, Steve thought this meant the worst was over.
He was wrong. 
xXx 
Mike hadn’t cared. 
El and Will hadn’t really either, though both expressed some sadness that Steve wouldn’t be participating in the camping trip that the Party as a whole had been looking forward to for the past few months. 
Erica had simply snapped at him, making him promise much the same as Dustin had that he would be making it up to her sometime in the future. Likewise, she had been bought off by ice cream (even if she insisted it didn’t count because Steve owed her ice cream anyways.) 
Max was the surprising emotional standout. 
"You can't tell them no?" She demanded, arms crossed over her chest. 
Lucas was hovering awkwardly at her shoulder, shooting "what can you do?" vibes as hard as he could at Steve as his (currently on-again) girlfriend outright dressed the elder boy down; her shoulders creeping up higher and higher until she seemed to realize she was visually giving away her upset and forcibly relaxed them. 
Unlike Dustin and Erica, her tirade was very out of character and Steve was growing more concerned by the second that something was wrong the more she spat at him. 
“I mean for fucks sake, didn’t you tell them you had plans!?” She finished, eyes narrowed in rage. 
Which was rich coming from someone whose stepdad had Billy Hargrove running all over town before he’d run off after the guy’s death, but then, Steve knew better than to bring all that up.
(The image of Max, unresponsive in the hospital with casts on almost every limb, was still too fresh. 
Even now he didn’t like to push her, even if the Party as a whole did their best to take notice when one of them was isolating themselves again. 
Max, though she was down to one crutch, was still inclined to use it as a weapon and very much enjoyed practicing her swings on people’s ankles.) 
“I did indeed. They don’t care and they’re not giving me a choice, but for what it’s worth I am sorry.” Steve tried to keep his voice even and out of angry-shrieking range, and vaguely prayed it was working. “I swear, I will make it up to you guys, even if we have to go on a second camping trip.” 
This was clearly not the correct thing to say.
Though judging by the murderous rage being aimed his way, Steve was pretty sure nothing short of “You know what you’re right, let me go tell my parents to fuck off!” would make Max happy. 
“So you’re seriously just going to drop everything, all our plans, your job, us,” She took a very threatening step forward and despite her being a full foot shorter than him, Steve had to fight not to take a responding step back. “So you can go play rich boy in the Bahamas?” 
“We’re not going to the Bahamas--” Steve tried, but was interrupted with a loud “ugh!” of disapproval. 
“Whatever makes you happy, Steven.” Max spat, and then turned on her heel, storming off towards the rest of the Party (who had taken one look at Max’s face and fled into the arcade so she and Steve could “talk.”) “I’m sorry us peasants weren’t good enough to hang around!”  
“Sorry man.” Lucas apologized quietly, on his way to run after Max. 
Steve just scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. 
xXx 
“The kids are mad at you.” Nancy announced, appearing across the Family Video counter like a phantom. 
Steve swore, nearly dropping his stack of VHS’s, while Robin (who had clearly seen Nancy approach) cackled at his fumble. 
“Yeah, I did get that memo.” Steve said, after he stabilized his stack, safely moving them from his arms to the counter. 
Nancy peered around them, her face giving away nothing. “It is kind of shitty to cancel at the last minute like that. We were relying on you to drive.”
An old fury shook itself awake in Steve’s chest, taking an interest in the conversation the second Steve realized what Nancy was here to do. 
He took a deep, shuddering breath, and pressed it down, back into the box he’d slammed it in all those years ago. 
“I’d leave the keys to Robin here, but unfortunately, someone failed their drivers test.” Steve said instead, jamming his finger over his shoulder and blatantly attempting to pass the buck. 
Robin, who absolutely knew that was what he was doing, faked a gasp and kicked at his ankles. 
“That crotchety asshole failed me on purpose!” She protested, spinning to face Nancy. “He made like, three misogynistic comments before we even got in the car!” 
“Pointing out that he knew the car wasn’t yours wasn’t misogynistic, he was just surprised to see me letting you use the Beemer.” Steve shot back, rolling his eyes. “I don’t exactly let a lot of people drive it.” 
Unspoken was that Steve’s BMW was one of the town’s more unique cars, and thus easily identifiable by the locals at large. 
“How is that better!?” Robin returned, but Nancy cleared her throat before they could successfully get the Steve-and-Robin show on the road. 
“The point is that we--but really, the kids, were counting on you.” Nancy said, dipping into her patented “I’m upset with you” tone. 
A year ago it would have cut Steve to the bone, even if he didn’t show it. 
Now he just stared tiredly at her back. 
“I’m sorry, Nance, but it is what it is.” He said simply, hoping the apology (even if he knew it wasn’t so much a real apology as it was something he said to keep the rage from breaking out and wrecking havoc via his mouth) would soften his ex. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”
Given the abrupt narrowing of her eyes, it very much did not help his case. 
“For someone who was so vocal about trying to change I have to say this is pretty disappointing.” Nancy said simply, but with just enough of a tone that Steve had to close his eyes for a second. 
Feel the way that old anger, the one that had powered King Steve, hit the bars of its cage.
Robin stilled immediately next to him, her head ping-ponging between Steve and Nancy both as she too, clocked that Nancy was pissed, and here to chew Steve out about it. 
“Um.” She said, voice going high in discomfort. 
Steve grit his teeth. “I don’t exactly get a say in these things, Nancy. You know that.” 
He had to work to keep his voice even, fighting against the ice that wanted to sharpen his own tone. 
It was just---Nancy did know. 
Steve had told her all those years ago, in the safety of her arms, about his parents' expectations. Their predetermined path, the way they dictated large swathes of his life. 
How they’d allowed him to pick which sports he played, but required that he play a sport no matter the time of year. 
That the pool they had installed wasn’t for him, he just got to use it as much as he did in part because he’d joined the swim team, and the kind of mental mind games he and his parents played about things like that. 
Apparently either Nancy had forgotten, or simply hadn’t taken it in to begin with because she wasn’t backing down. 
(Not that Steve had ever seen Nancy Wheeler back down.) 
“I know you have trouble juggling your parents' plans with your own.” Nancy said, and her tone was absolutely icy now. “I certainly remember waiting for a date that never happened.” 
Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth, knowing immediately what Nancy was referring to. 
“I told you they came home unexpectedly.” He said, arms now crossed against his chest, nails digging into his arms as a way to help himself stay grounded. “They wouldn’t let me use the phone until the next day and I apologized.”
“And I recall having a lovely conversation with your mother where she said otherwise.” Nancy said, her words punctuated by another high pitched “Uhhhh.” from Robin. 
“Funny how you believe my mom over me.” Steve said and whoops, yup, he definitely sounded mad now. 
So much for all the effort he’d put in to staying calm. 
“Because I look at actions, Steve. Patterns. The same ones you kept repeating.” Nancy was clearly about to escalate, and Robin, bless her, had had enough. 
“He-eeey.” She said, wedging herself in between Steve and the counter Nancy was starting to lean over. “I totally get it, you’re both upset, but this maybe isn’t the venue to fight about it? There are customers in the store and--sorry Nancy--but I do kinda need Steve for work, so…” 
She trailed off, glancing nervously between the two of them. 
Nancy took a breath, blasting it out of her mouth like an academically inclined dragon. “You’re right. I’m sorry Robin.”
She then turned on her heel, making her way to the doors. She paused before them, and Steve prepared himself because he knew whatever she was going to say next, it was going to hurt. 
“I wouldn’t care if it was just me, Steve, but the kids don’t deserve you pulling this shit. Not after all they’ve been through.” With that, Nancy pushed through the door, head held high as she stormed to her car. 
As was typical for Nancy’s aim, she scored a direct hit. 
Steve, somehow, resisted throwing things. 
“Can you believe her!?” He said, the second the doors were closed and Nancy safely out of eyeshot. “Coming in here like that!?” 
He ran his hand through his hair, once, twice. 
A third time for good measure. 
“Yeah, that was seriously public for her.” Robin agreed, sliding up next to him. “Like really public.” 
Steve shrugged, because well. Not really. 
Not anymore. 
But Robin didn’t know that, just like Robin wasn’t entirely familiar with the depths Steve’s parents went to save face. They hadn’t exactly had time to really dig into it all, given how fast the Vecna situation had hit after Starcourt and the sheer PTSD both incidents had caused. 
Most nights they spent together was spent trying to avoid reliving nightmares, not discussing ones they were currently still living in. 
A fact that Steve was more than happy to bring her up to speed on, but to do so involved a lot of backstory, and backstory involved Nancy, and God, he was fucking pissed at Nancy. 
Soon it was an hour into his rant and he hadn’t actually gotten around to the sheer level of shit his parents would pull, too busy with Nancy and old echoes of ‘bullshit.’ 
 He only stopped when Robin put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him ever so slightly. 
“Dingus. You know I love you, and I know you’ve changed, but you do gotta admit, canceling at the last minute is kinda shitty and I get why they’re upset.” 
It was like the carpet had been pulled right out from under Steve, yanked so quickly he’d have to pinwheel to keep his feet. 
“What?” He said, eyes round in sheer surprise. 
“I just mean like, I get your parents are dicks but,” Robin’s face screwed up, looking like she’d sucked a lemon. It was her “I’m going to say something you don’t like face” and it hit Steve like a punch to the gut. 
“Our shift’s almost over and no offense, you’ve started to repeat yourself about Nance, and I get it! I do, memory shit is hard!” Robin’s hands moved as she talked, her bracelets jingling as if punctuating her point. 
“But I also think admitting you double booked yourself on accident and just taking responsibility for it would help smooth things over. Middle ground, you know?” Robin waggled her hands in a gesture that, for the first time in a long time, Steve didn’t understand. 
He found himself suddenly struggling to breathe. 
“Are you--are you saying you think I didn’t tell them I had a trip already planned?” 
Steve wasn’t sure how he managed to get it out. Wasn’t sure how he was doing anything, given the heat that was shooting through him, a hot mix of confusion and betrayal as Robin fidgeted to his left. 
“No! Okay well,” The lemon face got worse for a second. “I’m just saying you did kinda forget to pick me up that one time, and you do kinda blame your parents when stuff like that happens.” She bit a nail, peering at him out of the corner of her eyes.  
“I don’t--” Steve said, completely knocked adrift. “I…”
Robin didn’t believe him.
His Robin. 
Who wasn’t--wasn’t exactly siding with Nancy, but wasn’t saying she was wrong either, or that she understood that this shit was out of his control, and in fact, was kind of implying that Nancy was right more so than Steve was and---and--
There was a ringing in Steve’s ears he wasn’t sure actually existed. 
“I’m sure a lot of it is your brain injury. The doctors said your short term memory can take a while to fully come back and I totally get why you don’t wanna say that, I just, I think it would be better if--Steve?” Robin jumped back as Steve finally found his footing, swiping his jacket and punching out before she could catch how badly his hands were shaking. 
“I’m leaving.” Steve told her, his own words a million miles away, entirely uncaring if Keith fired him. 
Keith was likely going to fire him anyway, given Steve was about to ask for a week-long vacation not even four months after the whole Vecna ordeal. 
“Wait, Steve, hey--Dingus! I wasn’t done, I mean, I had more to say I, dammit Steve--!” Robin called after him frantically as Steve bolted for the door. 
Steve ignored her, aiming for the Beemer and swinging himself numbly into the driver's seat when he got it open. 
Put the car in park and avoided Robin’s face entirely as he backed it out, punching the gas far harder than he needed to. 
The Beemer roared in response, nose rising as it shot forward. 
Robin was his best friend. His fucking--platonic soulmate, as she kept calling him. The very idea that she agreed with Nancy in general was a blow but in this?
Against his parents? 
Nausea rolled angrily in Steve’s stomach, matching the sudden wetness that coated his eyes. 
Angry and needing an outlet, Steve stomped hard on the gas, taking the next corner far too sharp and making the beemer fishtail, tires squealing . 
He didn’t know where he was going.
He figured he’d find out when he got there. 
xXx 
Given what Steve knew about the universe at large, (nevermind Hawkins) it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to hang around the Quarry at night.
But then, summer was in full swing. Kids were home from college and itching to find a place to party without parental overhead. 
Deep to the left side of the water, around a few bends and tucked oh so neatly out of sight, was a place where one could do just that. 
Party.
This stretch had long been claimed by the college kids of Hawkins, and guarded zealously for it. 
With the sheer number of drunk people whooping and hollering around the bonfires below the ridge where everyone parked their cars, Steve figured he was safe enough. 
Even if he was up with said cars, sitting alone. 
Not like it mattered. If a demodog or demogorgan or demo-fucking-dragon decided to come along, Steve had half a mind to just let it have him. 
It felt easier than trying to fix the current mess his life was in. 
So he sat up here, blowing through the alcohol he’d purchased from the one gas station that never carded, drinking his problems away. 
(That also wasn’t the best course of action but with his parents home to spring the whole “vacation” ordeal on him, it wasn’t like Steve had a choice.) 
He hadn’t grabbed a lot--had been so damn upset and struggling to hide it that he’d picked up a four pack of wine coolers instead of the intended beer he’d wanted. It was all he had though, and so he chugged the last bottle with a wince and wished he was a hell of a lot drunker than he felt.
Then promptly caught sight of the person walking towards him, and wondered vaguely if he was drunker than he felt. 
Of all the people to come and offer him a can of beer, Steve would have never expected Tommy Hagan. 
He eyed it and his old friend both, before slowly reaching out and taking the can. 
“Heard you and your parents are doing CoHo this year.” Tommy said casually, leaning up against the front of the Beemer like it was old times. 
“Yup.” Steve replied, drawing the word out. 
“Angie Tideman’s parents are going, they’re bringing her ith .” Tommy said it casually, and had the good graces not to grin when Steve audibly groaned.
“Oh god.”
Tommy sucked on a lip, nodding absently. “Yeah.” 
Then; “It gets worse.” 
Steve, who now knew what this conversation was about, instantly began tearing into the beer can. “How can it get worse? You know what Angie’s like.”
Angie, whose full name was Angelina, lived a few towns over. Born to wealthy parents who doted on their beloved only child, Angie had more in common with your average shark than she did her fellow humans. 
A comparison that, frankly, was unkind to sharks.
She was without a doubt the most selfish person Steve had ever had the misfortune of encountering, and the mere idea of being trapped in a room with her made his skin crawl. 
Their parents were business buddies though, and god forbid he ever insult a business buddies kid, 
“She goes to Purdue, you know, with me and Carol.” Tommy said, instead of answering directly. “We cross paths a lot, party wise.” 
Steve stayed silent. 
Knew how Tommy talked, how his stories meandered. Especially the juicy ones. 
“She’s been talking a lot recently. Given you don’t look all that informed, I’m gonna assume the one person she hasn’t talked to is you.” 
Steve gripped the can of beer, a sudden, sick fear blooming in his gut. 
“Tommy.” He said mildly, not loud enough to really interrupt, but with enough force to let his former friend know to get to the point, now. 
“Got all super fancy right before we left for summer break. Hair done, whole new wardrobe, nails, you know.” Tommy waggled his fingers playfully, but dropped them when Steve just stared. “Went full whore on us. I swear she was making out with any guy who even looked at her--” 
“Tommy.” He repeated, this time a hell of a lot firmer. 
Done pushing, Tommy let go of the proverbial bombshell. “Apparently you’re planning on proposing to her this summer. She’s gonna return next year as an engaged woman, with you in tow, because apparently, you got into Purdue. Congrats by the way.” 
Tommy clapped him on the shoulder, right as Steve’s mouth went dry. 
For the second time that day, he found himself fighting the burning heat of embarrassment and fury as it rolled through him. 
“I’m proposing.” Steve said, as if saying it out loud would scare the very idea away. “To Angie.” 
“Yeah we kinda figured you didn’t know.” Tommy said with a snide little grin. To the average outsider it was mocking, but Steve knew better.
Tommy was uncomfortable, because Tommy had understood what Steve’s parents had done. 
“What I’d like to know is just how much Angie’s parents paid to get you into Purdue. That’s gotta be a minimum fifty thousand dollar donation at least.” Tommy removed his hand, to instead lean his shoulder against Steve’s. Like this was the old times, before they’d fought. “ I didn’t think they had that kind of money to throw around.”  
A past conversation with his father struck Steve, running through the front of his mind like a bad horror movie. 
“They sold the estate.” Steve said vacantly, the implications not quite hitting. “The one they’ve been trying to get rid of forever, over in Cape Cod.” 
“Oh shit.” Tommy said, blinking as he too, recalled what was likely his father telling him the very same news. 
“They sold the place on Cape Cod, and they used part of the funds to fucking buy me like a toy.” And yeah, saying it out loud, it definitely sounded bad. “I didn’t think Angie even liked me.”
“Does Angie like anyone?” Tommy asked, incredulously, but nudged Steve’s shoulder again when his joke didn’t net him the laugh he wanted.. “I mean, you had to know your old man had plans to straighten you out. He keeps getting mad at my dad, because the ass won't stop making jokes that I’m going to take over the company instead of you.” 
“And this is it. Attaching me to Angie.” Steve said vacantly. “Because they know if I get married…” 
He’d put his wife first. His family, first. 
The one he’d wanted, dreamed of, since he first realized he didn’t have one. 
He’d been playing checkers the entire time, too busy fighting fucking monsters and Russians to realize his parents had upgraded to chess. 
In a dizzying array of mental connect-the-dots, Steve replayed the last years worth of conversations. All the odd little things they’d said. All the dumb things Steve had just ignored. 
 They’d warned him. 
Had told him he better shape up, or they’d be forced to do something drastic. 
That his parents hadn’t wasted all this time, effort, money on him, for him to throw away his life like he was. 
“You better start acting right and figuring out how to get your life back on track, because you won’t like what happens if I have to fix it for you. You get a month Steven, and after that? Well. Just remember you forced my hand, Steven.” 
They knew. They knew him, and what made him tick.
“I think the real question is what Angie’s parents see in you.” Tommy teased, but then they both knew the answer to that puzzle. 
For all that Steve’s mom complained about her husband, the guy was a shrewd and calculating businessman. Those weekends, then weekdays, then more and more time away hadn’t just been so he could go screw his secretary. 
Richard Harrington had fast tracked his business to the point where it was now getting attention. The business journal, ‘Top 50 Companies to Watch’ kind. 
Even if Steve fucked up entirely, he was set to inherit a fortune and a business that would continue adding to it, for some time to come. 
Provided he did what his parents wanted.
Such as marrying Angie. 
Thing was, if his parents did what they always did, and held their wealth (his car, his home, his life and all the little things in it) against him like a gun to his head, if Angie got that ring around her finger? 
 Steve would bow to their whims. 
 Because they could fluster him into proposing so he didn’t embarrass Angie, and her parents and anyone else who’d undoubtedly be watching. They’d make a spectacle of it. 
Because once he did propose, they wouldn’t let him back out, burying him under guilt trips and veiled threats until he was marched down the aisle in a groomsman suite and told to stand. 
Because against all common sense, Steve wanted a family who loved him so desperately he’d chase it like a dog if he was presented with the opportunity and told to make it work. 
It didn’t matter that Angie was selfish. 
Steve would try anyway. 
His parents were maneuvering him as easily as they had back when he was a kid, using love as a tool to get him to do what they wanted and even seeing the nose hanging from the rafters, they knew just the right words to get him to place it around his neck. 
“Thought you’d wanna know.” Tommy finished, pushing himself off Steve’s car. “Before your parents sprung it on you.” 
“Sonofabitch.” Steve hissed angrily, a million thoughts racing through his head, the heat of being caught in a trap blasting down his spine. 
“Yeah.” Tommy added, rather unhelpfully. “But hey, given that you’re about to go on vacation to propose, why don’t we consider this,” here Tommy swept his hand, gesturing to the party below, “your proposal party?” 
It was a downright horrible idea.
But then, Steve didn’t exactly have a better one. 
Not  when the world itself seemed against him, grinding its heel into his back and laughing about it. 
He knew the drill. If he went down there, arm in arm with Tommy, then it wouldn’t matter that half those kids were from a few towns over, driven in by new college buddies.  
They’d see him as a reason to get wild, absolutely uncaring that they didn’t know who the hell he was. 
Steve needed that.
People who weren’t mad at him, buying into the easy lies his parents wove, or who didn't understand the games played against him. 
“Fuck it.” He announced, standing up from the hood of his car as Tommy’s grin morphed into something he used to see in the days of old, back when they were sneaking drinks from their parents' alcohol cabinets. “This way at least I get a party.”
Not like his parents were going to let him have an engagement party. Or a bachelor party, or likely let his ass back into Hawkins. 
No matter how long the engagement. 
Tommy cheered, raising his arms to the sky and Steve grinned wildly with him. 
He’d figure out how to get out of all this later--but for now, he wanted just a few damn hours where he didn’t have to think. 
Not about his parents, or Angie, or possible attempts to force him into marriage, like this was the yee olden days and Steve was a Victorian maiden who needed to be brought to heel. 
Likewise he didn’t want to think about the Party, or Russian torture, or how Nancy could be so damn smart in some things and downright stupid in others. 
He absolutely didn't want to think about Robin. 
“Hey boys and girls, look who I drug up!” Tommy yelled as they approached and soon, word had spread.
This was Steve’s proposal party, and he was here to get absolutely smashed (while encouraging everyone else to do the exact same, in his honor.) 
Which would be how Eddie found him a few hours later.
Still at the quarry, crossfaded off his ass, a forty in one hand and a lawn dart in the other. 
“Are you kidding me, Steve?” Eddie grit out, desperately trying to wrestle the lawn dart out of his hand. “You’re fucking partying with Tommy Hagan!?” 
Steve blinked at him a few times, finally catching on that Eddie was in fact, actually there. 
“When did you show up?” He asked, though given the wince on Eddie’s face and just how hard it had been to move his lips, Steve correctly assumed he’d slurred the shit out of the question. 
Somehow, Eddie understood him anyway. 
“Robin called me a while ago, gave me a list of places you might be. Almost skipped this one until I stepped out of my van to take a piss and heard the party.” Eddie explained, and somehow while doing so, he’d successfully gotten a hold of the dart. 
He was now working on removing the 40 ounce. 
Steve frowned, using his newly freed hand to grip it closer to his chest. 
“Harrington.” Eddie warned, and oh, wow, they were back to last names huh?
Well why not, it wasn't like his night could get worse. 
“This is mine, Munson.” Steve fired back, putting as much vitriol into Eddie’s last name as he could.
This did not detour the metalhead. 
“Come on man, give me the bottle.” Eddie said firmly. 
Steve shook his head stubbornly, enjoying the way his hair whipped at his face. “No.”
Another man stumbled over, a guy Steve absolutely did not know. He frowned, looking between Eddie and Steve. 
For two seconds, Steve thought they might have trouble, and given the way Eddie was tensing, he clearly thought so too. 
Instead, New Guy just kind of rocked on his heels. “Hey, shove off it, buddy. It’s this guy's bachelor party, let the man drink!” 
Eddie’s face did something complicated then, pulling the sort of expressive looks only he could manage.
It was both adorable and hilarious, and if Steve hadn’t just been reminded of the very reason he was drinking, he’d have told Eddie so. 
“Yeah!” He said instead, raising his hand in the air, toasting his bottle of forty against the other guy’s red solo cup. “It’s my proposalengagmentbachelor party!” 
Given the second, adorable-slash-hilarious look on Eddie’s face, Steve assumed those words hadn’t come out right either. 
“Okay.” Eddie said hands on his hips in a stance Steve was pretty sure Eddie had gotten from him. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re going to put the bottle away. Then you’re going to give me your car keys, and then the two of us are going to my house to sleep whatever is happening here, off.” 
At least, that's what Steve thought he heard. It was a pretty un-Eddie like speech, and Steve maybe, might have been the one to say it, because he maybe, might have been mocking what Eddie had actually said.
Maybe.
It was hard to know, given that Steve’s thoughts were a thick soup on a bit of a time delay, and he was having a hard time figuring up from down, let alone what Eddie had been actually saying. 
Speaking of; 
 “When did I get into your car?” Steve asked, blinking as the van’s passenger seat appeared before him.
“Just now.” Eddie said, helping him in.
“Huh.” Said Steve, and then he maybe passed out a bit, because once again, he found himself awake and alert at a place that wasn’t where he’d just been. 
“Come on.” Eddie said gently, one of Steve’s arms over his shoulder as Steve leaned heavily into him, guiding the jock up the stairs and into the small house he and Wayne now called a home. 
The guy might have muttered a few things about bachelor parties along the way, but Steve was too focused on walking straight to really take notice. 
Part Two
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needle-noggins · 10 months
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(CW for SA, suicidal ideation) Here we go. My favorite and simultaneously least favorite panel of Vash and Knives.
I've seen a few interpretations of this scene and before we dive into the one that really struck me, let's start with the more... chill one. We're finally introduced to the third gun of Trigun, Vash's angel arm. And the way we're introduced to it involves Knives forcing him to pull the trigger. Of course, since no one knows anything about Knives, the people of Noman's Land blame Vash for Fifth Moon, and Vash likewise blames himself (this is kinda a spoiler but if you've been paying attention, it's just par for the course). However, he's not the one who pulled the trigger, Knives is. It brings up an interesting moral question of blame - do we blame the gun (and Vash, who is being used/objectified as a weapon here), or the person who wanted it to happen? Guns don't kill people, genocidal twins do!
Now for the awful interpretation, the one that makes me cry and wish Vash was real so I could hug him and pay for his therapy. And really highlights how awful Knives is and how far he'd go for his brother in his own, fucked-up way. I touched on this in a previous post about Legato and the Murder Cafe, and the whole time I was thinking about Fifth Moon but didn't want to say anything for the sake of spoilers.
So. Pay attention to the way Vash and Knives are standing. Knives, when he first grabbed Vash's head, was standing in front of him. He moves behind him to better control him and yeah, he's still controlling him via hand on head, and now he's got his other hand gripping Vash's chest, where feathers/wings are manifesting. Knives is assaulting him. If you wanna get crazy with it and say that the angel arm is kinda phallic, you could say... yeah. This is rape. I heard that specific interpretation once and while I accepted it I also don't know if that would be generally accepted or if I'd be called out for it, so I'm trying to tread lightly here.
It also doesn't escape me that of course the angel arm has feminine features like the plants - the plants that, again, humans are exploiting for their ability to create. There's a lot of feminist commentary to be made here but many people have said it better than me. Specifically I'm thinking of this one post I saw about gender fuckery and Tristamp Vash. Anyway.
Also, the atomic bomb/black hole/sun/whatever that is in the middle... It's just so powerful. It's terrifying. The eldritch body horror here is a punch to the gut. What the fuck, Trigun? I thought this was a funky space western!!!
Oh, and here's more commentary on the following few panels:
Vashussy shot, Knives is still right behind him. Yeah, I wasn't kidding about how bad this pose is for them. Knives, you sick fuck.
Vash shoots himself in the leg (a key difference from '98 trigun, lol), because of course he does, but it doesn't free him from the arm.
The arm's getting darker/the light inside is getting lighter! Stampede did an awesome job with their interpretation of the angel arm and I don't think I would have understood it without that. Also, on my first read I didn't notice that Vash is literally levitating, which is cool, but also terrifying because ?? he's not in control of that either??
Finally. A super painful, minimalist, double-page spread. Nightow loves 'em. Vash thinks he's dying (maybe?) and he wishes he had never existed. It's not suicidal ideation per se, but he wishes he didn't exist at all because he's already caused enough suffering. This is a low for him, because he believes so strongly in the concept of the Blank Ticket. (Come on, soupy brain bitch boy, get it together!) He's a monster, it's just how he was born, and he's not in control. Very specifically too, he says "we", and then changes it to "I"... he doesn't blame Knives at all, and that's very him. I want to shake him! Stop playing the martyr, Vash!
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dragons-and-handcuffs · 6 months
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Aegon Targaryen ii x niece!reader
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If there is anyone Aegon has truly loved in his life, it is you. His niece. Rhaenyra's daughter. Aegon knew you two will be married the moment you were born. At the time he was very young to realize that it was a strategic move by his older step sister and father, but it doesn't mean that his feelings for you have been anything but genuine. Even Alicent knew that if there is anyone who can keep him in the right path, it's you.
Aegon often compares you to a beautiful snowy day. Your hair silver and shining as the snow when the lazy sun rays brush against them. Your presence warm like the fire. Your smile bringing comfort to him always.
You were close to Aegon when you were growing up, or at least you thought you were made to be close with him. To always have his trust and love. Unlike Aegon, you always knew the reason why you two were arranged to be married, and it has always made you feel that whatever you feel for Aegon is not real, it's all part of the grand scheme. Even if you let yourself feel and enjoy him and his presence momentarily, your mother would always remind you of your purpose.
But Aegon was not completely blind. He can see how his beloved niece is always conflicted. He can see how you are stopping yourself from listening to your heart. But he hopes one day you will love him just like he loves you.
The night before your wedding Aegon sneaked into your room, taking you by surprise. "What are you doing in my room at this hour, uncle?" You asked. "What? I can't come and see my soon to be wife?" He just chuckled and threw you some clothes he stole from a servant. "Change into this quickly." He told you as he made sure the door was locked. "Why?" "Because I want to sneak you out of the castle like we used to do when we were kids," Aegon replied. "I want us to be just Aegon and y/n, not some prince and princess."
Aegon couldn't help but admit that even in a servant's clothes you look beautiful. He himself put the hood over your head to hide your silver hair before holding your hand and taking you through a secret passage.
For the night you forgot about your mother's words. You forgot about your purpose. You were just y/n enjoying your last night in the streets of kings landing before getting married the next day.
Your smile, your laugh, the twinkle in your eyes, it was all Aegon could focus on, thinking of himself as the luckiest man alive.
The night ended with you gently pressed against the wall, laughing after you two ran from some guards. Aegon gently caressed your cheek before kissing you. A kiss both of you have been longing for a while now. A kiss you have dreamed of many times but scared to desire it.
The next day you married Aegon in front of everyone, vowing to always love him. You were happy. Aegon was happy. But your smile soon turned upside down when your mother told you to not bear him a child until she is crowned as the queen. A legitimate child of Aegon would cause problems for Rhaenyra and her way to succession.
How can you stay away from the man you love? It would be impossible but to obey your mother you had to. You ignored Aegon, pretended to be annoyed by him or hate him. It was a torture for you. Poor Aegon couldn't understand what was going on. He couldn't figure out what he did wrong. And so he started drinking to forget about the pain. He slept with other women to forget about you. You knew everything and you never imagined it would hurt so much.
You were doing everything to obey your mother until you just couldn't take it anymore. You were beyond frustrated, unable to live your own life or love your husband, unable to see Aegon in other women's arms. You just ran out of the castle with tears in your eyes and mounted your dragon and flew away. The news reached Aegon and even in his drunk state he didn't hesitate to mount Sunfyre and ride in search of you.
Hours later Aegon finally found you, far away from kings landing. The young prince has flown through a storm, the effect of wine long gone, and he is beyond worried. When you heard the flap of the dragon wings you thought it was maybe Aemond, because in your mind there is no way Aegon would be the one to come for you.
When you saw him you just broke down, on your knees, tears running down your face. Aegon ran to you. Despite everything you have done he still loves you. "I can't take it Aegon. I can't take it anymore," You cried as soon as he kneeled down and wrapped his arms around you. "Tell me what happened. I can fix it," Aegon begged.
You just couldn't' hold it any longer and told him everything, breaking both your hearts with each word. "I love you Aegon. I really do but if I choose you I will lose my mother and my brothers," You cried. This is the first time in your life you have opened to him. Aegon just hugged you tightly, letting you cry and feel everything. "I don't desire the throne, y/n. All my life I have only desired you. I have only loved you and I will only choose you. For the first time in your life you initiated the kiss. It was slow and sweet, and full of emotions from both of you. " Make me yours, husband. I only want to belong to you from now on."
Aegon was gentle with you. Kissing you everywhere as you two made love. You were holding and hugging him tightly, feeling a weight has lifted off your shoulders. You have decided to only live your life as the Aegon's wife and the princess, not Rhaenyra's daughter or a pawn.
You two returned to King's Landing together, walked through the halls holding hands. Aegon has promised to only find comfort in your arms and has sent all the other women away.
A year later you are pregnant with his child. You have seen what a man Aegon has become. A true Targaryen prince. And after everything your mother has done you hold nothing but hatred for her. She pushed you to go against her and support Aegon's claim on the throne.
"My beautiful wife," that's what Aegon always calls you. He was right by your side when you gave birth. He became a much better man and an excellent husband.
By the time Viserys died you were a mother of three royal Targaryens, all of them strongly resembling you and Aegon. It's something Rhaenyra is very displeased with. For years she tried to push the agenda that Aegon forced himself on you, otherwise why would you betray her and give him heirs. She refuses to believe that you love him.
You now have a seat at the small council. Your children are loved and even have a great bond with their uncle Aemond. You are pregnant again and the maesters believes it's another set of twins.
But tragedy soon struck when Blood and Cheese happened. It was your children who were the targets, specifically your eldest son but how can you not protect them? You fought the two assassins and lost your own life right in front of your children. When the guards found you were already dead but your children were safe.
Aegon rushed to you and his mind and heart just broke in the most irreparable way as soon as he saw you on the floor. Your eyes still open, your lifeless body lying in a pool of blood.
Aemond rushed in as well. He couldn't process what happened either but he did manage to take the children out of the room.
"My love?" Aegon called you in the most broken voice as he shook your lifeless body. "Wake up, my love. It's me, your Aegon."
His mother, Alicent, stood by the door and was totally helpless. She watched her eldest son cry over you and the more the realization draws in that you are dead the more shocked he gets.
Aegon was crying and fighting everyone when you were getting prepared for the funeral. He didn't leave your side for even a second. His arms and clothes are still stained with your blood.
As your pyre burned Aegon vowed to get revenge and make everyone suffer. He didn't move a single thing of yours from the room. Your jewelry, your dresses, even the last flowers he gave you. If anyone touches anything of yours they would lose their hands.
Aegon did manage to get his revenge. He described to Rhaenyra his last most moments with you as he fed her to his dragon who was also very fond of you. But ge knows nothing he can do or desire can bring you back.
At last it's your eldest son who sat on the iron throne and even claimed your dragon.
When Aegon closed his eyes for the last time he knew he was finally going to see you again. He woke at the same place you two made love for the first time. You were in a white dress, playing with the two children you never got to give birth to. "I was waiting for, my love," you gave him the very smile that always brings him comfort. Aegon finally got to kiss you again, to hold you and feel your love again. "I am never leaving you again, my beautiful wife."
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artaxlivs · 8 months
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Were they kidding with this bullshit? Like, seriously? So many gates opening up to different dimensions now that there were too many for Supergirl to close and this? This is what they got? Fuck this. Seriously.
"Are you a virgin?" Mike asked like the total little dickhead he is.
"So what if I am? Aren't you? And the rest of your little friends?" Eddie sniped back at the rude little bastard but then, he blanched, "actually, don't answer that. I don't want to know."
Why did this have to be happening when Eddie was on a perimeter check?
Mike rolled his eyes like he couldn't believe how ridiculous Eddie was being, "Dumbass, we're children. Unicorns never go to innocent children in fairy tales. Because we're all innocent. They go to innocent adults. Virgins." He put far too much emphasis on the word because he is, as mentioned, a little dickhead.
"Listen, fuck you and the unicorn you rode in on. I'm not fucking innocent. I've done...things. Things I'm not gonna tell you about!" Eddie sputtered, crossing his arms and almost losing his precarious balance on the tree branch.
He needed to be careful because there was a unicorn circling underneath him. And not the beautiful, ethereal kind. It was beautiful, sure, but it had blood all over his muzzle and splattered across it's chest and on it's front hooves. Probably from the last virgin it had tracked down in god knows what dimension and trampled slash eaten to death. It's eyes were blazing red fire and it had fangs. Fangs. Fuck. That.
Eddie heard Steve sighing and then he flailed an arm from Eddie's tree branch to Robin and said, "It can't be trying to get you because you're a virgin, it's not going anywhere near Robin!"
The girl in question squeaked. Her ears and cheeks went bright red. All three of them turned to look at her.
"Wait, what? Was it you know who? From the...? You didn't tell me? When did you...?" Steve asked cryptically, shedding absolutely no light on who Buckley was knocking boots with.
"Yes after we met at the...place." Robin supplied lamely and then bared her teeth and said through them, "After. But before we went back in to fight Henry slash Vecna slash One." She shrugged and let out a hysterical sounding giggle. "It was...End of the World Sex. Just in case, you know?"
"Ohhhh I'm so proud of you!" And oddly, Steve really did sound proud. Which was weird. Eddie was pretty sure Robin was gay which meant the caginess was in reference to a girl but the fact that Steve was so supportive was a little suprising.
Without actively thinking about the repercussions, Eddie's mouth decided to test that theory, "Well damn, wish I'd have thought of that. Steve - want to deflower me so this unicorn leaves me alone?" The hysterical giggle Eddie let out rivaled Robin's.
Slowly Steve turned back to him but before he could reply, Mike scoffed, "You are his type. Skinny, big bushy hair, big eyes, you and Nancy both talk like everyone is just waiting to listen to you to speak." He rolled his eyes, "Annoying."
"Rude!" Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully, "You know what though? I'm fine with it. Nancy Wheeler is a badass and I want to be her when I grow up. Or when I get down from this tree." Eddie cringed, staring down as the unicorn stopped and looked up, one of it's flaming eyes bore into him. It neighed, shaking it's gorgeous mane but also splattering little droplets of blood everywhere.
Gross. So gross.
"Huh. Now that you mention it..." Robin stared up at Eddie thoughtfully, "I totally see it."
Steve just dragged his hand down his face and glared at the angry unicorn, "Okay, we need a real plan because Eddie isn't coordinated enough to have sex in a tree." He put his hands on his hips like a baseball mom wondering if she brought enough orange slices and Shastas for the whole team. "Do we know any other adult virgins to lure this one away?"
Mike snorted, "Those are probably more rare than the unicorn.'
Eddie flipped him off, "You're rolling at disadvantage on all charisma and persuasion checks for the rest of time."
"We'll have to find a new DM when the unicorn gores you anyway," Mike shrugged. "Whatever."
Then he wandered off. Just walked away, like Eddie wasn't two feet away from being mauled by a feral beast who's name was probably Glitter Sparkle or some shit. What a dickhead.
Looking away from the unicorn, Eddie watched Robin wave Steve over and whisper to him. They had a hushed conversation for several minutes while Eddie yelled things like, "Wanna share with the class?" and "Good friends don't make shitty plans in secret!" But they ignored him. Bastards.
Until Steve turned to the tree and asked, "By 'things' what do you mean?"
What?
"Harrington, what the hell are you talking about?"
"You said you've done 'things' but not had sex. What things?" Steve brushed a hand through his miraculously still perfect hair, and sighed, obviously frustrated, "We're trying to figure out what the unicorn considers virginity. Robin's never..." He petered off and glanced back at her and then over at Mike who was half way down the block with his radio out, sitting on a bench with his back to them, probably telling everyone that Eddie still had his V card. Traitor.
He was too far away for them to hear his conversation so he was probably too far for theirs.
Robin cleared her throat. "I've never had, you know, penetrative sex. Just...um...uh...third base!" She squeaked again and then covered her face with her hands.
"You're being extremely weird about sex talk while a blood covered unicorn is stalking me like a jungle cat!" Eddie informed her. "Oral. Just say oral sex, you weirdo!"
"Ok fine!" She shouted, "I've given and reciprocated oral sex! Jesus." Then she crossed her arms and grumbled under her breath, tapping one foot on the grass.
Eddie couldn't help it. He laughed with glee. "Was she cute?"
Robin sputtered, mouth dropping in shock.
What? Did she think she was a subtle lesbian? Because she wasn't. Not at all. Her high tops had boobs drawn on them like some twelve year old boy just hitting puberty. He rolled his eyes.
Steve looked up at Eddie then. His eyebrows were arched in that way they get when he's thinking up a plan. They're not always good plans but he carries them out and everyone usually lives so, Eddie could do worse. "Well - Big Boy?" Steve's lips twitched in a smile at using Eddie's nickname for him. "I'm guessing when you said you've done 'things,' you were lying?"
"Yeah, duh." Eddie retorted, snapping in his irritation and mounting fear. Mounting, ha. Like a horse and like sex. Mounting. He bit his lip to contain the very poorly timed giggle.
Robin rolled her eyes, grabbed Steve's arm and gave him a severe 'be careful' look and then hustled over to where Mike was sitting. When Steve tucked his bat into his backpack and started to creep around the tree, he realized she was giving them privacy. Holy shit.
The unicorn didn't even acknowledge Steve's presence as he skirted around it and climbed the tree, grunting and complaining under his breath how nobody better call him the Virginsitter because he swears to God. Then the rest of his grumbling got lost, buried under the sound of Eddie's heart pounding in his ears.
Holy shit.
And that's how Eddie lost his mythically constructed virginity in a tree to Steve Harrington who was apparently bisexual and very, very good at blowjobs.
Neither of them even noticed which way the unicorn went.
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