#all of that I can just ignore because it's limited to him. but the trauma? the way he gets the focus? that detracts from the others | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wickjump · 4 months ago

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Please? 🥺

omg you all really do love me.... (theres another ask but i hit the 30 image limit so pretend theres another one here sorry). this is gonna be all over the place cause im like that. if this gets over 100 notes ill make a cross shrine in my room

OK!!!!!!! CROSS SANS TIME....

GRGRGRHRHRHHRN OKAY FIRST OF ALL. FROM AN OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT HE WAS MONUMENTAL TO THE DEVELOPMENT OF THIS FANDOM. HE IS PART OF LITERALLY THE FANDOMS BIGGEST PROJECT(S) (UNDERVERSE AND XTALE THE SERIES). HIS EXISTENCE IS LITERALLY THE REASON THIS FANDOM HAS THRIVED FOR SO LONG AFTER SO MANY YEARS. UNDERVERSE IS KEY TO THE FANDOMS SURVIVAL AND CROSS IS A CORE PART OF IT.

HIS STORY IS A FUCKING MASTERPIECE. YEAH I MIGHT BE BIASED BUT SHUT UP. HIS STORY BROUGHT TOGETHER A LOT OF THE FANDOMS IDEAS IN A VISUAL SENSE LIKE NEVER BEFORE. HE EXISTS IN A WORLD THAT IS SO FAR FROM UNDERTALE YET NOT FAR ENOUGH TO BE LIKE DREAMTALE. HE HELPED ESTABLISH THE UNDERTALE MULTIVERSE AS A WHOLE. HE IS A PRODUCT OF A WORLD MADE BY A MEGALOMANIAC (get it) THAT HAS GONE THROUGH TEN WHOLE REBIRTHS. THOUGH HE WASNT A CORE PART OF IT UNTIL THE END OF TIMELINE X, HE ALSO PLAYED A SIGNIFICANT PART IN TIMELINE 2 WHERE HE AND FRISK DEVELOPED THEIR FIRST FRIENDSHIP WITH EACH OTHER AND THEN HE DIED AND AND. CROSS IS SO FAR FROM WHO HE WAS IN EVERY PAST REBIRTH. TIMELINE 1 IS JUST A COPY PASTE OF SANS. TIMELINE 2 IS SOME WEIRD AMALGAMATION OF SANS AND SWAP. TIMELINE 9 (I FORGOT THE ROMAN NUMERAL) STRAYS MORE TOWARDS CLASSIC SANS THAN NOT. AND TIMELINE X HE IS FULL SWAP. AND THAT MUST BE FUCKING WILD TO EXPERIENCE BECAUSE WHILE HE DIDNT GET THE MEMORIES OF PREVIOUS TIMELINES LIKE THE OTHER AU INHABITANTS DID HE FOUND OUT ABOUT THE PREVIOUS TIMELINE REBIRTHS AND AND AND

HES A SWAP. HE IS A SWAP SANS. AND ILL DRILL THIS INTO YOUR MIND AS OFTEN AS I NEED TO. HE IS A SWAP SANS. HE EATS TACOS. HE HAS STARS FOR EYES. THINGS FLY OVER HIS HEAD. HE IS PHYSICALLY STRONG BUT NOT THAT SMART. HE MWEHEHEHS (KIND OF IMPLIED). COME ON DUDE. STOP FORGETTING THIS. MAKE HIM MWEHEHEH MORE. MAKE HIM STAR-EYES MORE WHEN CLASSICS JUST,,, DONT. I NEED THERE TO BE DIFFERENCES CUZ THERES SO MUCH POTENTIAL THERE COME ONNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

AAND THATS NOT EVEN TOUCHING ON HIS CHILDHOOD. HE WAS DEADASS VERBALLY AND PHYSICALLY ABUSED BY XGASTER AND HEAVILY NEGLECTED AND WE IGNORE THIS FOR WHY??? HE WAS BEAT AS A KID HELLO??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??! STOP MAKING HIM AN ALPHA GRR MALE AND BREAK DOWN THE WALLS HE WAS FORCED TO BUILD SINCE CHILDHOOD AND GIVE HIM A GOODDAMN SMORE ON A STICK AND WEIGHTED BLANKET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

what a perfectly healthy and normal way to look at your father

HE IS MY FAVORITE TO PROJECT ONTO HIM. HE GREW UP IN THE HOUSE OF A CONTROL FREAK WHO WAS NOT AGAINST USING PHYSICAL VIOLENCE AGAINST A CHILD SO YOUNG THEY HAVE TO USE A FUCKING STEP-STOOL TO REACH THE BATHROOM SINK. HOW FUCKED UP IS THAT. HE IS LITERALLY THE PERFECT PROJECTION DOLL. SUFFERED CHILDHOOD TRAUMA? CROSS IS YA BOY. MAKE HIM SUFFER. CAUSE HE ALREADY HAS. I CAN MAKE HIM HAVE MY PTSD SYMPTOMS ALL I WANT CUZ HES ME FR!!!!!!

ALSO ALPHYS IS HIS SISTER HOLY SHIT CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT MORE??? "OHH BUT TECHNICALLY ALPHYS ISNT AND XPAPYRUS SAID-" THEY GREW UP TOGETHER. WITH THE SAME MAN RAISING THEM. IN THE SAME HOUSE. THEY WENT AS GROUPS TO THINGS. THEY LIKELY WENT TO THE SAME SCHOOLS. THEY SAT AT THE DINNER TABLE TOGETHER. THEY PLAYED TOGETHER. THEY HUNG OUT WITH THE SAME FRIENDS AT THE SAME TIME. ALPHYS HAS A SPECIAL CARE FOR CROSS THAT SHE DOESNT SHOW FOR MOST OTHERS. AND SHES A LESBIAN SO DONT TWIST IT TO BE LIKE A CRUSH OR SOMETHING. THEY R SIBLINGS. THEYRE JUST FLAT OUT SIBLINGS. YEAH PAPYRUS SAID THEYRE NOT BUT PAPYRUS ALSO HAS DISTANCED HIMSELF A LOT FROM HIS FAMILY OVER THE YEARS MEANWHILE CROSS STAYED PUT MORE OFTEN THAN NOT. PAPYRUS HATES XGASTER AND HAS SHOWN THAT DISDAIN MANY MANY MANY MANY TIMES--EVEN EXTENDING THAT DISDAIN TOWARDS ALPHYS HERSELF. HE ONLY STAYS CONNECTED WITH CROSS AND I KNOW DAMN WELL A GOOD CHUNK OF HIS REASONING FOR THAT IS BECAUSE THEY LITERALLY WORK TOGETHER. CROSS HAS ALSO SHOWN THE DISDAIN FOR XGASTER BUT ALSO HOLDS A TYPE OF LONGING AND FEAR IN REFERENCE TO HIS FATHER. PLEASE. PLEASE. COME ON. GIVE ME THIS.

ALPHYS IS LITERALLY HIS SISTER. THEYRE SIBLINGS. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE. THERES SO MUCH POTENTIAL THERE. HES THE ONLY SANS TO HAVE A SISTER. THE ONLY SANS THAT SEES ALPHYS AS A SISTER. HOW ISOLATED MUST THAT MAKE HIM FEEL. NOT ONLY IS HIS AU SUCH AN AMALGAMATION THAT HE CANT CORRECTLY RELATE WITH CLASSICS OR SWAPS, BUT HE CANT EVEN RELATE TO ANYONE ABOUT ALPHYS. WILD SHIT.

OKAY ANYWAY. AFTER EVERYTHING CROSS WENT THROUGH AS A KID EVENTUALLY HE DISCOVERED HIS DAD WASNT JUST AN ABUSIVE POS BUT ALSO THAT HE CONTROLS THE VERY WORLD HE LIVES IN AND THAT HE IS JUST A SMALL PART OF SOMETHING MUCH GREATER, ONLY INTRODUCED BECAUSE HE TRUSTED FRISK ENOUGH FOR HIM TO CHOOSE CROSS OUT OF EVERYONE. THAT EVERYTHING ABOUT THE WORLD HE LIVES IN IS BECAUSE OF HIS SHITASS DAD. AND HES CONFUSED AND HES ANGRY. AND HIS WORLDVIEW IS COMPLETELY SHATTERED. EVERYTHING HE KNEW WAS A LIE AND HE WAS ALWAYS UNDER XGASTER'S CONTROL. HOW FUCKED UP MUST THAT BE TO REALIZE. ALSO HE WAS STABBED A LOT BY HIS BEST FRIEND. DUDE LOST HIS SENSE OF EVERYTHING. SENSE OF SELF, OF WHO HE CAN TRUST, FAMILY, ETC. AND IT WAS EVEN MORE DRIVEN IN WHEN UNDYNE AND PAPYRUS LITERALLY ATTEMPTED TO KILL HIM. HELLO???

AND. CROSS' OWN NAME. HIS NAME WAS SANS FOR MOST OF HIS LIFE, BUT NOW HE CALLS HIMSELF CROSS AND WILL INSIST THAT NAME IS USED FOR HIM AT ALL TIMES (i know what you are...it fucken transgemder...). BUT THATS NOT. BUT THATS NOT EVEN CONSIDERING THE ONLY REASON HE GOT THAT NAME WAS BECAUSE OF FRISK SEMI-TAUNTING HIM WHILE CROSS WAS IN THE MIDST OF DYING IN HIS DREAM WORLD. THE ONLY THING CROSS HAS LEFT OF HIS BEST FRIEND IS THE NAME HE WAS GIVEN WHILST BLEEDING OUT FROM LIKE 20 STAB WOUNDS. AND YET CROSS IDENTIFIES WITH THAT NAME SO PAINFULLY MUCH HE WILL PHYSICALLY FIGHT AND KICK AND SCREAM TO HAVE IT USED. THE NAME SANS USED FOR HIM MAKES HIM RECOIL.

AND HIS DYNAMIC WITH CHARA??? PAINFULLY UNDERUSED SO SO PAINFULLY UNDERUSED. OH MY GOD. THEY COULD BE THE BROTHERS EVER BUT NOOO YOU HATE CHARA!!!!!! THEY BOTH WENT THROUGH SO MUCH FROM XGASTER AND LOST EVERYTHING THEY LOVE AND CARE ABOUT. BOTH WERE CLOSE TO FRISK. BOTH WERE ABUSED. IF YOU KEEP THE SCAR AND THE RED EYE YOU GOTTA KEEP CHARA THATS THE RULES MAN. SAYING HES LOCKED AWAY IS COWARD SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!

CHARA AND HE HAVE FUN BANTER. THEYRE EXCITING. EVERY FIC WITH CHARA WAS A BETTER READ AUTOMATICALLY BECAUSE I LOVE SEEING THEIR DYNAMIC AND ALSO I LOVE CHARA. THE WAY THEY BOTH HAVE DEVELOPED AS PEOPLE FOLLOWING THEIR TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCES AND ACROSS THE DURATION OF THE X-EVENT IS WILD AND AND AND I LOVE IT. THE PARALELLS BETWEEN CROSS AND CHARA, AND CHARA AND XGASTER. THERE IS SO MUCH HURT COMFORT POTENTIAL HELLO?? AND ANGST LIKE. IMAGINE HAVING TO STAY STILL AND NOT REACT AS A GHOST TEENAGER HURLS INSULTS AT YOU THAT HURT DEEPLY, TRYING TO GET A REACTION. IMAGINE THAT SAME GHOST TEENAGER SILENTLY CRYING TO HIMSELF WHEN HE THINKS YOURE ASLEEP. IMAGINE GOING TO A SECLUDED PLACE AND YELLING AT THAT GHOST TEENAGER THAT FOLLOWS YOU AROUND AFTER A DAY OF HAVING TO IGNORE HIM. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER WITHHOLDING INFORMATION ABOUT YOUR PAST LIVES. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER AND YOU TALKING THINGS OUT. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER NAGGING YOU TO EAT CHICKEN NUGGETS BECAUSE HE REALLY WANTS CHICKEN NUGGETS BUT HE CANT CONTROL THE BODY SO CROSS HAS TO EAT THEM FOR HIM SO HE GETS THE SENSATION OF EATING AND THE TASTE OF SAID NUGGIES. IMAGINE BEING INJURED AND THE GHOST TEENAGER WHO HAS YELLED AT YOU MORE TIMES THAN YOU CAN COUNT IS TRYING TO KEEP YOU FOCUSED AND AWAKE AND WHILE HE CANT TOUCH YOU HES TRYING HIS BEST TO COMFORT YOU THE BEST WAY HE CAN BECAUSE YOU JUST STARTED TO UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER DAMMIT, YOU CANT DIE NOW. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER REALIZING HE'S ACTING LIKE HIS ABUSIVE DAD WHEN HE YELLS AT CROSS WHAT XGASTER ONCE YELLED AT HIM. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER POKING FUN AT CROSS' MISTAKES AND BEING LIKE AN ANNOYING LITTLE BROTHER. IMAGINE THEM DEFENDING EACH OTHERS' NAMES DESPITE THEIR DIFFERENCES BC THEYRE BROTHERS AND THATS WHAT BROTHERS DO. PLEEAAASEEEE.

ALSO THE POTENTIAL HE HAS WITH TORIEL IS REALLY CUTE AND IGNORED. SHES KIND OF LIKE A MOTHER FIGURE TO HIM IDK.... HE DESERVES A MOM I FEEL. EVEN THOUGH SHE WAS MORE LIKE AN AUNT (asriel calls xgaster "uncle") I REALLY LOVE THE IDEA OF THE DREEMURRS BEING PARENTAL TO CROSS. I MEAN. LOOK AT THEM.

HE AND METTATON ARE SO FUNNY TOO BECAUSE THEY HATE EACH OTHERS GUTS SO MUCH. WHICH IS WILD BECAUSE CROSS IS FRISK'S BEST FRIEND, YET METTATON WAS MADE TO PROTECT FRISK. BUT THEY HATE EACH OTHER. AND ITS SO FUNNY. do you think cross is curt with literally every mettaton he sees out of habit. i mean come on LOOK AT THEM. THEYRE SO STUPID.

ALSO CROSS IS SO FUCKING SHORT OH MY GOD. HES 4 FOOT 7 (i thought he was 5 feet until a few days ago cuz that was his old height). i need you to process this. like actually. i am 5'5. i would be 9 inches taller than him. i would be nine inches taller than him. 4'11? 4 inches taller than his tiny ass. he is literally so small. PLEASE make him tiny more often ill be so appreciative. he needs help reaching the cabinets

HES ALSO A FUCKING CUTIE PATOOTIE. HES GOT LITTLE FANGS. HES GOT FANGS!! BITEY BOYS!!!!!!!!! HES GOT FANGS AND THEYRE SHARP!! HE PROBABLY BITES HIS TONGUE SO VERY MUCH!!!!!!!! BITEY BOY. HE WAS A BITER AS A KID TOO. COME ON. EVEN IN UNDERVERSE HES GOT BIG ASS FANGS. ITS NOT JUST A STYLE CHOICE HES LITERALLY A BITEY BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HES GOT SHARP TEETHERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he probably needed chew toys as a kid (so did i)`

AND HIS MOUTH. THE WAY ITS ALEWAYS LIKE THIS. HES ALWAYS GOT THAT STUPID LITTLE CHEEK. HE JUST. HES SO.. RGGRGRGRGGRGRROWLS I LOVE HIM!! HE IS SO SILLAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AND HES SO SMUG TOO ALL THE TIME. HE HAS SOME SUPERIORITY COMPLEX AT ALL TIMES. LOOK AT HIS SMUG FUCKING FACE. LOOK AT HIM. DUMBASS. HE DOES THIS SIGNATURE BASTARD THING WHERE HE TURNS HIS HEAD TO THE SIDE WITH A SCOFF. HE IS SO PRISSY. SO UPTIGHT ALL THE TIME. GOD

hes such a FUCKING MENACE TOO. LOOK AT THIS ASSHOLE.

HES TERRIBLE. HES SUCH A DICK. HES A MENACE AND SHOULD BE KEPT ON A LEASH. HES A SMUG IDIOT WHO THINKS HES BETTER THAN SO MANY PEOPLE AND HE IS MEAN AND SORT OF FULL OF HIMSELF AND DEFINITELY ACTS LIKE MOST PEOPLE FROM THE MILITARY IVE MET. which is fitting because hes FROM THE XTALE MILITARY. "ROYAL GUARD" IN XTALE IS JUST DEADASS THE MILITARY. HIS STUPID SELF WENT TO BOOT CAMP. AND YET HES LIKE THIS. AWFUL. HES MEAN TO KIDS. HE LITERALLY STOLE A CHILD'S CHOCOLATE MILK. WHO DOES THAT. APPARENTLY CROSS DOES.

HE IS JUST. CANONICALLY AWFUL TO KIDS. HES NEEDLESSLY JUST. MEAN TO THEM. FOR NO REASON. HE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO HANDLE KIDS. WASNT GIVEN A GOOD EXAMPLE. TERRIBLE BABYSITTER. BUT ALSO HE'D CANONICALLY LOVE HIS DAUGHTER IF HE EVER HAD ONE.... HE DOESNT WANNA TREAT HIS CHILD LIKE HIS DAD TREATED HIM.... SIGHS... HE CALLS HIS DAUGHTER HIS PRINCESS WTF,,, HES A CUTIE PIE.!!!!!!!!!!! HE NEEDS 2 WORK THINGS OUT :(

AND AND AND. THE LITTLE WAYS HE CHOOSES TO REBEL. LIKE HIS NEW TERRIBLE AS HELL OUTFIT WITH THE BOOB WINDOW. WHICH I DONT LIKE. BUT ITS A WAY FOR HIM TO REBEL AGAINST WHAT HES FORCED TO BE HIS ENTIRE LIFE YADDA YADDA. THE OLD OUTFIT WAS BETTER BUT THE SYMBOLISM HERE IS NEAT. ANYWAY. THE LEFTOVER FEELINGS AND RAGE AND ANGER HE HAS FOR HIS FATHER BUT THE LONGING TO BE ACCEPTED AND LOVED BY HIM?!?!??!?!?!?! COME ON GUYS. WE CAN DO BETTER THAN THIS. WE CAN MAKE HIM HAVE MORE DADDY ISSUES

HE IS SO CONFLICTING FEELINGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! INTOXICATED ASSHOLE WANTS A HUG FROM HIS DAD BUT ALSO HATES HIS DAD SOOOOOOOOO MUCH.

ALSO LOOK AT HIM AS A DUMB CUTE LITTLE BABY. BABY BOY. FAT USELESS INFANT. ADORABLE. I LOVE HIM

HE DOESNT KNOW ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOTHING AT ALL!!! SWEET BABY BOY...... HE KNOWS NOT OF THE HORRORS THAT AWAIT HIM!!!!!!

and hes a CRYBABY TOO AND I LOVE THAT FOR HIM. GRGHRGRRGRHWOLOWLSS

he was BORN A CRYBABY AND THATS HOW HE'LL DIE!!! AND NOBODY UTILIZES THIS BTW. IVE GOT LIKE FOUR OR FIVE OTHER PHOTOS OF HIM JUST CRYING IN SITUATIONS WHERE CRYING ISNT WARRANTED. BUT HE DOES. HE CRIES WHEN HE IS MILDLY FRUSTRATED. HE CRIES WHEN HE IS MILDLY ASHAMED. WHERE IS HIM CRYING OVER STUPID SHIT. WHERE IS HIM TAKING A JOKE TOO PERSONALLY AND HE TEARS UP AGAINST HIS WILL. WHERE IS HIM SOBBING IN HIS ROOM OVER SOMETHING SOMEONE SAID IN PASSING THAT HIT TOO HARD. WHY DOESNT HE CRY MORE. YOURE ALL PUSSIES. MAKE HIM CRY MORE OFTEN. CRYBABY CROSS. HE DESERVES 2 BE ONE AFTER BEING WARPED INTO AN ALPHA MALE FOR THE PAST EIGHT GODDAMN YEARS. FUCK

AND AND AND THATS NOT EVEN CLOSE TO TOUCHING HIS FANON INTERACTIONS WHICH I LOVE JUST AS MUCH. HOW EVERYONE INSTANTLY DECIDED HED HAVE A RIVALRY WITH KILLER GIVEN HOW CROSS IS EASY TO RILE UP AND FRUSTRATE WHILE KILLER IS THE BUTTON PUSHER?? GREAT SHIT. ALL OF YOU. GOOD JOB. ITS FUCKING BRILLIANT. THANK YOU.

CROSS JOINING NIGHTMARE'S GROUP IS MY FAVORITE INTERPETATION. SPECIFICALLY BECAUSE I KNOW HE WOULDNT WANT TO. CROSS IS FUCKED UP BUT HE HAS MORALS, HE STILL FOLLOWS THE ROYAL GUARD CODE MENTALLY. HE DOESNT LIKE KILLING. HE DOESNT AGREE WITH NEEDLESS MURDER. HE CAN HARM, SURE, BUT ALL THE DEATH WAS XCHARA'S DIRECT ACTIONS OR HEAVY INFLUENCE (love u xchara). CROSS WOULD LOATHE TO JOIN NIGHTMARES GROUP AS A LACKEY WHO GOES AROUND KILLING PEOPLE FOR NO GAIN TOWARDS HIMSELF. HE DOES WHAT HE DOES TO GET HIS AU BACK. JOINING NIGHTMARE'S TEAM WITH NO HELP TOWARDS THAT GOAL WOULD BE HELL ON HIM, EVEN IN A FANON SETTING. BECAUSE HE'D HATE IT. HE'S GONE FROM A RIGHTEOUS ROYAL GUARD WHO HELPED THOSE IN NEED TO SOMEONE WHO LIVES WITH A GROUP OF MURDERERS AND AIDS THEM IN THEIR KILLING OF INNOCENTS. i like to think cross doesnt kill, like he just. refuses to. he will hurt and incapacitate, but he doesn't kill. and he also refuses to harm children, papyri, alphys, whatever. there were times where he couldve killed one of the stars but he didn't and idk i like that. i like it when hes like that.

I ALSO LOVE FANON AND CANON DYNAMICS WITH NM'S GROUP EITHER AS A WHOLE OR AS INDIVIDIUALS. I LOVE KROSS SO OBVIOUSLY KILLER AND CROSS' DYNAMIC IS MY FAVORITE. I LOVE RIVALS. I LOVE PEOPLE WHO CANT STAND EACH OTHER. I LOVE IT WHEN KILLER BUGS CROSS UNTIL HE SNAPS AND THATS WHEN THEIR DYNAMIC GETS MORE INTERESTING. I LOVE IT WHEN CROSS GETS RILED UP AND ANGRY. I LOVE IT WHEN HES MAD AND GOT ISSUES. I LOVE IT WHEN KILLER EGGS HIM ON BECAUSE ITS FUNNY. I LOVE WHEN THEY REACH A DEEPER UNDERSTANDING.

HORROR AND DUST... MAN. I LOVE DUST AND CROSS' DYNAMIC THE MOST OUT OF THE TWO JUST CAUSE DUST IS ONE OF MY FAVORITES. THEY BOTH HAVE GHOST BROTHERS (EVEN IF ONE ISNT EXACTLY REAL). DUST IS PARANOID AND JITTERY BUT MOST OF ALL QUIET, HE DOESNT PICK FIGHTS LIKE KILLER DOES SO CROSS LIKES HIM FOR THAT. THEY HANG AROUND IN SILENCE I THINK,,,

HORROR MAKES CROSS THINK OF HOME IN A WAY BECAUSE OF HOW HE COOKS AND WHAT HE COOKS. HORROR IS VERY RUMBLY AND SORT OF LIKE A GREAT DANE AND DEFINITELY VERY INTIMIDATING AT FIRST. HE SCARED OFF CROSS SO SO MUCH AT FIRST. I THINK CROSS ASKING HIM TO MAKE LIKE TACOS OR A BUTTERSCOTCH CINNAMON PIE WAS WHEN THEY STARTED 2 GET CLOSER. BUT THATS CAUSE I LOVE THEM AS A SHIP TOO SO YOU MIGHT BE GETTING SOME UNDERTONES. THATS WHY. HOWEVER THERES ALSO ANGST POTENTIAL GIVEN THE DIFFERENCE IN THEIR ALPHYS'. HORROR LOBOTOMIZED HER. CROSS WAS RAISED ALONGSIDE HER. LOVELY

NIGHTMARE IS A SUPER COOL CHARACTER IN UNDERVERSE I FEEL. NOT JUST BECAUSE HE IS VIOLENCE ITSELF BUT BECAUSE OF HOW MANIPULATIVE HE WAS. IN CANON IT WOULDNT BE TOO HARD TO MANIPULATE CROSS INTO FULLY JOINING, EXCEPT IN UNDERVERSE HE DIDNT HAVE A TEAM, JUST KILLER. IF HE DID, I DONT DOUBT HE COULD MANIPULATE CROSS INTO JOINING. CROSS HAD LOST EVERYTHING, AND HE WOULD DO ANYTHING TO GET HIS WORLD, HIS FAMILY, BACK. IN FANON, NIGHTMARE IS A LOT MORE A "take you under my wing" KIND OF FIGURE I THINK!!!!!!!!!! HE CARES FOR CROSS IN THAT REGARD, TAKING IN A STUBBORN SOLDIER WHO LOST AS MUCH AS THE OTHER MEMBERS OF HIS TEAM. EITHER WAY I LIKE HIM. I THINK CROSS WOULD HATE HIS GUTS IN CANON, BECAUSE. HE DOES. YEAH. BUT IN A MORE FANON SETTING CROSS WOULD BE PAINFULLY LOYAL EVEN IF IT HURT HIM, BECAUSE CROSS IS USED TO SURRENDERING HIMSELF TO LOYALTY. HIS MORALS, HIS WANTS, NOTHING MATTERS WHEN HE HAS A JOB TO DO AND SOMEONE TO PLEASE. NIGHTMARE COULD VERY WELL BE THAT, THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN CANONMARE AND FANONMARE IS HOW NM REACTS.

AND EPIC. I LOVE YOU EPIC. I LOVE HIS DYNAMIC WITH EPIC. I LOVE HOW CROSS KNEW EPIC AND THEN FORGOT. AND THEN MET HIM AGAIN AND AND. GRGRRHRHH. HOW THEY WERE FRIENDS IN ANOTHER LIFE AND THEYRE FRIENDS IN THIS ONE TOO. HOW DESPITE HOW DIFFERENT CROSS IS NOW, EPIC STAYS. I LOVE HOW THEYRE CASUAL BESTIES. I LOVE HOW THEYRE SILLY TOGETHER AND WATCH EACH OTHER DO STUPID SHIT AND EGG EACH OTHER ON. I LOVE HOW THEYRE DUMB TOGETHER AND MAKE SILLY JOKES AND WATCH ANIME AND MAKE SILLY REFERENCES. I LOVE THEM. EVERYONE IS PROBABLY SO TIRED OF THEM. THEYRE SO DUMB AND SILLY AND GRGRRHRRHHRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEYRE BESTIES. THEYRE THE DUMBEST BESTEST FRIENDS. CROSS ONLY EVER TRULY UNWINDS AND LETS HIS GUARD DOWN WHEN EPIC'S AROUND AND THERES SOMETHING SPECIAL ABOUT THAT. SOULMATES I TELL U.......

THE STARS!!! COULDNT FINISH THIS POST WITHOUT MENTIONING THEM. CROSS' DYNAMIC WITH THEM ISNT SOMETHING I FOCUS ON TOO-TOO MUCH NORMALLY BUT HERE WE GO!!!!

HIM AND SWAP FIRST. CROSS RELATES MORE TO SWAP THAN HE DOES MOST OTHER SANSES BECAUSE CROSS IS A SWAP. THIS IS KIND OF CANON TOO. WHILE CROSS FINDS A LOT OF CLASSIC BEHAVIORS DETESTABLE (ie drinking condiments or overall being lazy), SWAP IS LIKE HIM IN THAT REGARD. THEYRE BESTIES. THEY INTERACT A LOT OUTSIDE OF THEIR BRIEF CANON MEETING. JAKEI DRAWS THEM LOTS,,,,, SIGHS,,, I THINK THEYD BE GOOD FRIENDS EVEN IF CROSS ISNT IN THE STARS, LIKE A TRUCE AU OR JUST WHERE CROSS DOESNT ALIGN HIMSELF WITH ANY TEAM OR EVEN WHERE CROSS DOES, BUT THIS SWAP ISNT THE SAME ONE ON THE STARS' TEAM. THEYD BE SUPER CLOSE FRIENDS I THINK... au where cross is on nm's team but hangs out with a random swap from an unaffected timeline to destress between jobs, but that swap ends up being the one in the stars and idk. beginning of a truce or something much worse. u decide

DREAM!!!!! I DONT LIKE CREAM BUT I LOVE THEIR DYNAMIC IN CANON IN A PLATONIC WAY. I THINK THEYD BE FRIENDS. DREAM INSPIRES HOPE IN CROSS IN A WAY THAT HE THOUGHT HE LOST, REMINDING HIM OF HIS ROOTS AND HIS SENSE OF BELONGING IN THE ROYAL GUARD. WHICH IS A SCENE THAT MADE ME TEAR UP. THAT KIND OF HOPE IS JUST WHAT CROSS NEEDED IN THE MOMENT AND I FEEL DREAM COULD BE A REALLY GOOD GENUINE MORAL SUPPORT IN THAT REGARD. A GOOD INFLUENCE THAT CROSS 100% NEEDS. IF CROSS IS ON NM'S TEAM, DREAM IS THE ONE THAT MAKES CROSS HESITATE EVERY TIME DREAM OFFERS AND CROSS IS ABOUT TO DENY.

INK. WOULDNT BE A CROSS POST WITHOUT A LITTLE BIT OF INK WOULD IT. INK AND CROSS ARE SO DIVORCEES I THINK. BOTH WERE MANIPULATED BY XGASTER, ALTHOUGH CROSS WAS TREATED AHEM A LOT MORE POORLY. INK IS A REMINDER OF CROSS' PAST AND HIS TIME SPENT IN THE REMAINS OF HIS AU, IN ISOLATION. YET INK WAS ALSO HIS FRIEND. INK MEANT THE WORLD TO HIM BACK THEN. AND INSTINCTUALLY CROSS STILL DEFENDS HIM, EVEN IF HES ANGRY AND HATES INK FOR WHAT HE DID. THEYRE FULL OF CONFLICTING FEELINGS. AND I LOVE BOTH EQUALLY WHERE THEY EITHER TALK THINGS OUT OR WHERE IT STEWS FOREVER.

I ALSO REALLY LOVE JAKEIS DEVELOPMENT OF HIM. AT FIRST HE WAS A VERY ANGRY CHARACTER WHO WAS SORT OF DISSOCIATING AND IN A TERRIBLE MENTAL STATE (TO WHERE IF HE WAS ABLE TO USE THE OVERWRITE BUTTON AT THE TIME OF BEING TRAPPED IN THE REMAINS OF HIS AU HE WOULD HAVE DESTROYED HIS BODY AND ANY CHANCE OF FIXING THE AU BECAUSE HE IS SO OUT OF IT MENTALLY). AND HE REMAINED ANGRY FOR A GOOD BIT. AND THEN GOT EMO AND SAD. AND THEN HE GOT TIRED. AND NOW HES BACK TO BEING ANGRY AGAIN MOST LIKELY GIVEN THE FEW SNEAK PEAKS IVE SEEN OF THE NEXT UNDERVERSE EP. IM EXCITED TO SEE HOW HE REACTS TO SEEING XGASTER AGAIN. IM ALSO MOSTLY EXCITED FOR HIS OLD OUTFIT BEING BACK. I DIDNT LIKE THE BOOB WINDOW OR SLEEVELESS JOCK GETUP. SORRY CROSS

CAPSLOCK IS GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME

OKAY. ANYWAY. HIS KNIFE THE BIG RED KNIFE. I MISS IT SO MUCH. THAT KNIFE INFLUENCED MY CHARACTER DESIGN FOR AGES. HES EDGY AND EMO AND I MISS THE KNIFE. THERE WAS SOMETHING ICONIC TO ME ABOUT IT. BIG RED KNIFE IS STILL CANON.... XCHARA COME BACK... I NEED U TO KNIFE HIM UP AGAIN...

AND AND AND. AND. CROSS!!!! HES PERFECT TO PROJECT ANYTHING ONTO. HES PERFECT TO WRITE ANGST OF. AND COMFORT I GUESS. HES MY FAVORITE CHARACTER TO WRITE THE DEHUMANIZATION OF BECAUSE HE EVEN CALLS HIMSELF A DOG AT ONE POINT IN UNDERVERSE. HELLO???? THERE WAS A POST THAT WENT LIKE "submissive in the way a dog is submissive to the sheep it kills coyotes for" THATS CROSS. THOSE IMAGES WHERE ITS A NOSTALGIC PICTURE OF A DOG/WOLF WITH TEXT IN A TYPEWRITER FONT ABOUT LOYALTY BEING THE DEATH OF YOU? CROSS. "IM NOT A VIOLENT DOG I DONT KNOW WHY I BITE" "I WONT WAIT FOR YOU, I BITE"? CROSS. CROSS CROSS CROSS. HE IS PERFECT BECAUSE HE IS ANGRY AND HE IS VIOLENT BUT HE IS HURTING. AND HE HURTS SO GODDAMN MUCH.

ID ADD SO MANY MORE IMAGES BUT I HIT THE 30 IMAGE LIMIT?!?!?!?!? PLEASE TELL ME U KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT THO.... PLEASE.... COME ON.......

I LOVE CROSS SO MUCH. I REALLY DO. HES MY BESTEST BOY EVER. I WOULD SAY GOOD BOY AND HE WOULD TREMBLE. I JUST REALIZED HOW SUGGESTIVE THAT SOUNDED. TAKE THAT AS YOU WILL I GUESS. ANYWAY YES CROSS SANS

I LOVE HIM. HES MY FAVORITE. I LOVE HIM AND HIS DYNAMICS WITH OTHER CHARACTERS. I LOVE HIM AND HIS STORY. I LOVE HIM AND HIS STUPID HABITS. HIS DAILY STRUGGLE TO GET DRESSED BC HES STUPID AND THE OUTFIT IS COMPLICATED. THE WAY HE CRIES SO MUCH. HIS STUPID FACE. HIS SMUG ASS STANCE. HIS STRAIGHT FUCKING POSTURE. THE WAY HES AN ASSHOLE TO EVERYONE WHO DOESNT HOLD DIRECT POWER OVER HIM. THE WAY HES DEVELOPED AS A CHARACTER OVER THE YEARS. I LOVE HIM.

THIS ISNT EVEN ALL OF IT. BUT ITS GETTING SO LONG IM JUST. GONNA END HERE. LMFAO. OK THATS IT

BYEBYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

#cross sans #xtale #underverse #utmv #undertale #cross!sans #xgaster #xtale!gaster #too lazy to tag the others

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ladykailitha · 1 month ago

Text

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 6

Hello! It seems that people haven't quite adjusted to the new schedule yet, is there anything I can do to help get this in front of people? Just let me know and if I can do it, I will. Everything but changing the days of the week it's posted on, of course.

In this chapter we have Steve training Will's class and a couple of bullies emerge, and Steve makes some progress on the trauma front.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Steve waited as all the kids and their parents came shuffling in. Joyce wasn’t there for Will but Jonathan was, with his arm over his shoulder whispering comforting things. Other than Will’s friends there were two other kids in the class. Troy and Angela. Angela was pretty blonde girl and Troy had curly brown hair and square face.

He could see the two of them whispering in a corner and Steve immediately knew they would be trouble. Their parents didn’t seem to be much better, so he braced himself for a long six weeks.

“Everyone listen up!” Steve called out after blowing on his whistle. “I’m Mr. Harrington and this is Miss Buckley. We will be your teachers. You will listen to both of us equally as one mistake could prove disastrous. Here are the rules.” He went on to list all of the rules and pointed to the signs that had them written out in big, bold letters.

“All right,” he finished, “girls go with Robin, boys come with me.”

Steve could see Troy eyeing up Will and knew trouble was brewing. But he knew how to nip it in the bud before it got started.

“Will could you keep an eye on them while they change?” Steve asked casually. “I need to ask her about the schedule for Saturday.”

Will blushed a dark red but nodded.

As Steve walked away he could hear Troy ask why their teacher would need to talk to Will’s mom. He smiled broadly. He of course did ask her about the schedule because he was thinking about taking Eddie up on his offer, but didn’t want to do it if Tommy was going to be there.

When he came back, there was an awkward tension in the air that was there before. Troy was off to the side, glaring at the four other boys, while Lucas and Dustin were trying to hide grins behind their hands.

Whatever had been said after Steve left, it certainly left an impression on Troy. Now to see what Troy would do with the information he was given to him.

Steve led them back to the kiddie pool where the girls were waiting with Robin. Angela was fake shivering and chattering her teeth.

“I don’t know why we have to shower before we get in the pool,” she whined. “It’s not like I’m dirty or anything.” She looked up at Steve through her eyelashes and batted them with a pout on her lips.

Oh no. Steve thought bitterly. She was one of those. Look, he knew he was a good looking guy, he wasn’t blind or stupid. But he faced many a crush from one of his students and he was going to have to have Robin deal with her exclusively. Because he didn’t want to lose his fucking job.

“No matter how clean the person is,” he said dryly, “the fact that you rode here in a car, walked out in the open air, and stood around other people means you have dirt on you. And because we don’t want you messing with the chemicals in the water that work to keep the pool clean with those dirt particles you bathe or shower before getting in the pool. Plus if you don’t want your pretty blonde hair turning green, taking a shower before hand will help limit that from happening.”

He turned and looked at all the other students, ignoring her shocked expression. “Does anyone have any other questions before we get started?”

The rest of the class looked at each other, shaking their heads. He nodded curtly. “Good, the only thing we’re going to do today is get used to being in the water.” He held up his hand to stop the protests. “I don’t care if you gone to the pool before. This is about building up stamina first.”

The kids grumbled but did as they were told. Robin and Steve had them wading back and forth doing laps and by the end of the two hours (with breaks in between) all the kids were exhausted.

“Why am I so tired?” Mike groaned as he flopped gracelessly on the bench to wait for his mom to come pick him up.

Some of the parents had stuck around to watch, but Mike’s mom had errands to run and left him in Steve’s care. She had stayed for the safety speech though, he had to give her that, Troy and Angela’s parents didn’t even do that. Hopper had been one of the ones that stayed through the whole thing, cheering Ellie on.

As the last kid was bundled off to their parents Steve sat down on the bench Mike had recently vacated and pressed his head against the wall. Not every class had troublemakers but having two in a such a small class was a nightmare.

“You okay there, Stevie?” Eddie asked, gently. He moved to sit next to Steve on the bench.

Steve rolled his head to the side to look at him. “First day of class is always the hardest. Learning the dynamics and singling out the bullies before they take hold and completely ruin the class.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked with a lopsided grin. “You get many of those?”

“Depends,” Steve said, “there are always going to those entitled assholes who think they’re above the rules but that doesn’t always translate to bullying others. But if there is going to be a bully, it will absolutely come from that kind of person.”

Eddie snorted. “Don’t I know it?” He leaned his head back against the wall too. “When I was on the swim team, I was surrounded by kids who had their own swimming pools, personal trainers and parents who came out to meets. That wasn’t me.”

Steve breathed out through his nose. “More money than sense doesn’t make you the best swimmer. Just ask my dad. The fucker thought that if he kept pushing me that I would have had gold medals in every event I participated in. You wouldn’t believe the lecture I got when I only came in fifth my first Olympics. Even though everyone was telling him not to expect me to medal against twenty year olds.” He shook his head.

“Do you miss it?” Eddie asked softly. “The rush of diving into the water, the only sounds are the roar of the crowd and the rushing water, the way your body slices through the water, the thrill of hitting the touch pad and looking up to see your time?”

“More than you’ll ever know,” Steve said, his voice cracking. “But the best thing to happen from that horrible accident was my dad walking away and never speaking to me ever again. I can live without him, even if the trade off is that I can never get into the pool again.”

“My dad didn’t care what I did,” Eddie huffed, banging his head on the wall. “As long as I wasn’t a snitch. It was my mom that took to swimming every day, worked ten hour days seven days a week to keep up with the fees and shit. Probably wouldn’t have had to work so hard if my dad didn’t spend the money on booze and the slots.”

“So what happened?” Steve asked sitting forward and looking at him directly.

Eddie let out a derisive snort. “My mom got sick, like cancer sick and my dad in all his dumbassery thought the best way to pay for medical bills was to borrow money from a loan shark who had him knocking off rich people’s cars to pay him back.” Eddie gripped his fists together tight. “He got caught by police while she was literally on her death bed. She was calling out for him. And by the time the cops released him on bail she was gone.”

“God,” Steve huffed. “And I thought my dad had the monopoly on shitty behavior. Yours really takes the shit pile, man.”

Eddie snorted. Then the snort became a giggle and soon he was laughing so hard. Steve just watched with his head tilted. He wasn’t sure what he said to make him laugh like that, but he would do it again in a heart beat.

“Yeah, Stevie,” Eddie said once he could speak, “king of the shit pile, my dad.” He looked at his watch and then stood up. “My break is almost over, so I’ve got to go. You take better care of yourself, yeah?”

Steve smiled up at him. “You, too, Eds. You tell Murray not to work you so hard. You’re doing community service not slave labor.”

Eddie gave him that closed mouth dimpled smile that never failed to make Steve’s insides melt and then walked away, waving over his shoulder.

If someone were to walk by just then, Steve would adamantly deny staring at Eddie’s ass. He was watching respectfully, thank you very much.

Eddie not wanting to get back into get back into swimming made more sense after their little talk. Steve wasn’t sure he would want to get back into a sport that he only had one cheerleader for and she was gone, either.

At least Steve had Robin, but who did Eddie have now that his mom was gone?

He decided he was still going to go the staff swim, though. He wanted to see how good the boy was. Because even if Eddie never wanted to compete, Steve wanted to see him in action.

Saturday rolled around and Steve drove Robin to the rec center. They pulled into the near vacant parking lot. There was Nancy’s station wagon and a beat up old van.

Robin touched his shoulder. “If you don’t want to do this, you can drive off, right now and I’ll tell people you had a migraine. Okay?”

Steve shook his head. “If it gets too much, I’ll just go spend time in the endless pool.”

She gave him a squeeze and got out of the car, Steve following close behind. They entered the pool area, Steve hanging out a little behind Robin. Eddie spotted them first and he hopped out of the pool with a big grin. Jonathan and Nancy who had been chatting with him, turned the direction he was looking with their expressions going to from confusion, to surprise, to glee.

Eddie ran to go get a chair and set next to the pool about three feet from the edge. “For his majesty!”

Steve huffed out a laugh as he sat down. “I’m just here as spectator, don’t get your hopes up.”

Nancy and Jonathan shared a glance and then grinned.

“Whatever you say, man,” Jonathan huffed. “It’s still good to see you.” He moved away from the edge of the pool a little then created a wave that splashed Steve.

Steve just flinched away from the water so it wouldn’t get in his eyes. “Robin, get him!”

Robin who had been wearing a blouse and shorts over her swimsuit, looked at him briefly, before stripping right there and diving at Jonathan, taking him with her. Eddie and Nancy looked at each other and then nodded.

Nancy went for Robin and Eddie went for Jonathan and they wrestled in the water making bigger splashes then the one Jonathan made to get Steve.

Steve yelped and got to his feet, running away. Finally the four of them stopped and Eddie pushed his long hair out of his face, grinning up at Steve. Steve smiled back. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @eriquin @tartarusknight @gloomysoup @morallyundefined

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #olympic steddie #olympic swimmer au

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sins0fthefather · 8 months ago

Text

Wrath.

Jeff the Killer HCs:

General HCs:

Full Name: Jeffrey Alexander Woods (Only responds to Jeff though. Best case scenario if you call him his full name is he’ll ignore you, worst case scenario is him flipping his shit on you)

Age: 22-25 (Based on where in the story a character study/fic takes place)

Birthday: September 22 (Older than Liu by 2 years)

Wasian— Father is Chinese, mother is a born n’ raised Texan

Biromantic, Demisexual

Has autism, C-PTSD, BPD (contributor to his auditory hallucinations), NPD, ASPD, and BDD

Right Handed

6’1 (185~ cm)

Covered in burn scars, most noticeably on his chest, forearms, and back

He uses white facepaint, it makes his face’s silhouette look “cleaner” in his eyes

His cuts have healed up for the most part, although he’ll have moments where he relapses and cuts at them again. The ends will also sometimes tear if he does something like laugh too hard.

Very touchy with other people, but he despises being touched first. He prefers to initiate physical contact- both because of the control aspect of it and because of his general distrust of others.

His sense of humor waxes and wanes from extreme condescension to the most morbid sentences you’ve ever heard. Half of the time it doesn’t even sound like a joke.

Reckless driver, cursed with terrible road rage

Smokes cigarettes, his brand of choice is Marlboro

Drinks vodka straight as if it were water

I feel like his favorite band would be Tool or Slipknot. His music taste is just metal and dad rock.

Was brought up in a Catholic school for most of his life, although he obviously doesn’t keep up with the practice anymore. This is a big catalyst for why he develops a god complex however since he “has authority over life and death”— something unique only to gods from what he was taught.

Very observant of the people around him. He memorizes speech patterns, demeanors, even the way people walk. He’s gotten to the point where he can read people and their intentions well before they’re explicitly stated, making it much easier for him to spot a lie. However this also makes it much easier for him to tell when he’s truly pushing somebody’s buttons, and there’s nothing he loves more than pushing people past their limit.

Always stealing glances of himself in any mirror he walks past

He’s an opportunistic killer. Limiting himself to patterns clashes with the creativity and the thrill of the moment to him. However, there are specific elements of a kill he will often repeat if the mood strikes him. An example of this would be often including strangulation (albeit usually not the direct cause of death) to reflect his acquired need for control in all moments of his life. Sometimes he will also pose bodies in a “prayer” position to call back that god complex I mentioned.

He doesn’t always kill people immediately. If someone catches his eye, usually because he finds them beautiful in some aspect, he’ll take it a step further. He has no problem with being patient when the situation arises for it- stalking the person, learning their habits and schedules, the whole shebang. He’ll then slowly start to ruin said person’s life, isolating them through the slaughter of those closest to them and destroying any sense of peace and security they once had. He’s the sound that goes -bump- in the night. He’ll toy with his food until he eventually grows bored, disposing them like all the rest. After all, how dare someone else try to be beautiful in his presence- a punishment of the highest order is necessary.

His anger can be very… explosive. He doesn’t stick around very long for enough people besides victims to see it, but it can be as unpredictable as his own kills. It’s worse when he’s silent in his anger however, since with the former you at least have enough of a warning to brace yourself.

Backstory-Centric HCs:

(TW: csa, murder, mutilation, religious trauma, general stuff)

Takes place in college. Jeff is 22 at the start while Liu is 20.

Instead of being a one-off instance, Jeff and Liu have been subjected to bullying/borderline harassment since middle school. This builds up Jeff’s gradual distrust of others and leads to him shutting himself off from his peers.

Most of said bullying revolved around their mixed race situation. It only got worse as Jeff shut himself off and Liu became a people pleaser.

The two didn’t even have peace at home, since their parents were sexually abusive and excused it through their religion. It was “all apart of god’s love” as they said. This + the bullying leads Liu to develop DID and kickstarts Jeff’s resentment towards their parents. It also led Jeff to develop a twisted belief on what love and beauty is since god apparently “favored” the beauty of his parent’s form of “love.”

On one particular instance of bullying/harassment, a small group of people he grew up with planned on jumping and mugging Jeff behind a bar. Things escalated when Jeff retaliated in self defense, beating his aggressors with a nearby pipe found laying against a dumpster. He didn’t leave unscathed however, since one of the attackers dropped a lighter into the flammable materials (alcohol, trash, etc) that had been scattered in the fight, planning on making everyone go down in that moment. Jeff managed to survive (albeit with severe burns along his body) after being found by an employee who went to go check out the noise/smell of smoke, but the others succumbed to their wounds.

While in a heavy state of shock and psychosis (paired with being drugged up out the wazoo at the hospital) his usual unchecked auditory hallucinations worsened, leading his mind to trick him into believing this situation was a sign from god- that he was supposed to survive while his tormentors burned. Paired with his already twisted concepts of love and beauty, he began to believe that his burns were part of god’s plan to make him more beautiful- because he was favored.

This only gets worse when he’s released from the hospital’s custody due to a neglect in checking his mental state. After being sent home with his family and therefore being thrown back into the abusive environment he hoped to escape when going to college he ends up experiencing a psychotic break, mutilating himself in the process.

When his parents catch him, they attack him. In their eyes he had disgraced them, no longer upholding the “beauty” of heaven that they enforced. He ends up killing them in self defense, but furthers it by mutilating their bodies in an act of defiance induced by his break. He believes he’s outdone god in this moment, deluding himself into thinking he’s on the same level (or even better) than god.

While overcome by his psychotic break, he ends up severely wounding Liu after he wakes up to check out the noise. It becomes a conspiracy on if Liu survived or not since his body was never found by authorities.

The reason why Jeff continues on his spree after these instances is the feel of control he gets. After being forced into submission by those around him for so long, he finally feels a stable sense of power over those he deems as less than him.

He ends up wandering throughout the states after this, hopping from town to town. He never stays in one place for long, although sometimes he’ll revisit his home town to give the urban legend fanatics something to fear again.

#long post woo #questions encouraged teehee #jeff the killer x reader #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta/you #creepypasta #headcanon #headcanons #jeffrey woods #homicidal liu #rewrite #writers on tumblr #the autism is autisming

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rawbin-hsr · 19 days ago

Note

Hi!! Saw ur taking requests, do you mind making some hcs for how a queerplatonic relationship with aven would be like? Demiro/ace aven is so dear to me, and being on the grayromantic spectrum myself, I really wanna just like, have this super deep bond with him where we're both each other's most important person without a doubt and physically affectionate but not like, romantic if u know what I meann (plus, I think a platonic relationship that goes past friendship and full of care would help him so much)

but I understand a lot of ppl aren't aware of how qpps work, so it's ok if you ignore this!! <3

ANON. ANON I LOVE YOU. YOU GET IT.

As someone on the aroace spectrum (I’m like 90% sure I can’t romantically love people; I only experience infatuation for three months at most before realising that I actually only want a close friendship 💀) I love love love this take on Aventurine and I’m so happy you’re asking me to do hcs on this !!!

This turned out a LOT longer than I planned and became like a whole story not just headcanons HELP I’m sorry bro I hope you don’t mind ��😭🙏🙏 At the start it’s not even about being qpps it’s just about him learning to tolerate you that was not on purpose I apologise deeply, I promise the hcs come in at the end 💀

Queerplatonic Aventurine x Reader Headcanons

CW: queer dynamics, cursing, Aventurine’s messed up perception of people around him, Aventurine in general tbh (he's toxic I'm gonna be so real 😭), brief mention of sex but nothing actually happens, very soft and sweet (mostly), a lil bit of hurt/comfort, small mention of his sexual trauma towards the end, gender-neutral reader

Lmk if I missed anything !

Also sorry anon I forgot you specified demiro/ace he ended up basically just purely aroace 😭 I hope that doesn't matter too much </3

You’re not like everyone else, Aventurine realises quickly when he meets you.

Most people he surrounds himself with are closed off and guarded, but you are, surprisingly, not. In fact, your honesty is a bit… disarming. So complete he finds himself at a bit of a loss.

He thinks he doesn’t like you at first. He can’t avoid you, as you’re integral to this new project he’s working on, but he wishes he could. Something about you is deeply off-putting. He knows it is the way you never lie.

You’d think total honesty would be a weakness. He knows it would be for him. If he laid out all his cards on the table, he wouldn’t last another day. But the way you always leave yourself open is a new kind of defence in itself that he has never seen anyone else utilise before. When he tries to pry information out of you, you flatly tell him you can’t tell him that, that you know what he’s doing. You’re blatantly putting up barriers with him, and it drives him mad because usually, he can do a push and pull but that doesn’t work with you. It’s hard to be sneaky when you see right through him and stop him.

One day you tell him you would like to grab a coffee with him. He is sure you are flirting, that you mean it as a date. He is sure you want him, and though he usually limits these kinds of interactions to only flirting, nothing more, he’s getting frustrated with the way you never give. Perhaps you’d give more easily if he pretended to leave himself vulnerable to you?

But it’s not a date. You don’t flirt with him, but you don’t talk about business either. What’s worse, you shut him down when he flirts with you. It’s upsetting. Are you toying with him? Is this a weird power play? You don’t seem like that kind of person, but Aventurine is familiarly acquainted with the knowledge most people are not what they seem.

Maybe his anger gets the better of him at one point, an hour into the not-date when you’ve dragged him to the park to feed the ducks. He asks you what the purpose of this is, if you aren’t intending to get into his pants.

You tell him you just wanted to hang out. That you think he needs a friend.

He’s infuriated, because he can tell you’re being sincere.

He leaves, snarking that he already has friends. (He does not. Not really.)

But he can’t stop thinking about it. And he can’t avoid you, because you’re still needed for the mission and now, he’s sure he hates you.

You continue to be nice to him for some reason, even after that fiasco ?? He’s never encountered someone who’s so willing to just be nice to others merely for the sake of being nice. What kind of fucked up ulterior motives are you hiding? What sort of closet freak are you?

Aventurine knows, logically, that some people are just nice. It’s unreasonable to think every single person is as selfish as he is. He grew up surrounded by people who were just nice. But last time he had the fortune of actually interacting with such people, he was shorter than the desk at his office.

He wants to pry into your head, learn everything about you, know what it would be like to be your friend like you had offered. He wants you to fuck off to the other end of the galaxy so he never has to see you ever again.

He accepts when you invite him to go to the arcade with you.

It’s… weirdly soothing.

You’re good company, as much as he hates you. You’re funny and witty and playful and kind. There is no hidden agenda behind anything you do. You insist upon paying for half the tickets you play with at the arcade, even though he’s sure he has at least thirty times the amount of disposable income you have.

He wins most of the games, of course. You win less than half. He excels at the luck-based games, and he’s not half bad at the more skill-based ones, whereas you’re best at the latter. You stay away from the luck-based ones, and the ones you do attempt you fail every time. He’s honestly impressed by how unlucky you are. But at one point you still insist upon winning something for him, even though you both know he’d win it quicker himself.

At the end of the outing, you hug him, tell him you enjoyed yourself. He finds his chest feels oddly warm as you say it. It takes a moment to register the feeling as that of happiness, the sensation of real joy something unfamiliar to him. He smiles and hugs you back.

Maybe he doesn’t hate you.

You’re the first person he truly thinks of as a friend. Though he claims he has many, he knows he doesn’t really. The closest he had before you was maybe Topaz, or Ratio, but Topaz seems to view him as more of an annoying younger brother sometimes and he clearly gets on Ratio’s nerves. You're the first person who makes him feel truly... liked. A weird concept.

It’s not for his status or his money or his reputation. You turn him down when he tries to spend money on you. He’s not sure if that annoys him or if it makes him weirdly giddy.

Even long after his mission has ended, and he no longer needs you, you stick around. He lets you. He starts coming around for you too.

It’s fun to be around you. Again, you’re very good company. Smarter and funnier than most dimwits at the IPC. He considers inviting you to work under him, he’s sure the pay he could offer you would be better than what you currently make, but he doesn’t want to drag you too far into the mess that is his life.

He starts sleeping over at your house uninvited. He makes himself at home in your apartment. Your place is so much nicer than his, even if it’s smaller, run down and objectively a worse place to live in. The pipes in your sink clog too easily and the lights in the bathroom always flicker, despite your best attempts to fix it. But the rooms are all reminiscent of you, of what kind of person you are. Photos of your loved ones line the walls, trinkets you’ve picked up from various places decorate your shelves, and even though it looks messy he knows it’s all very organised from your point of view. It’s so different from his cold, clean, impersonal penthouse.

You cuddle him sometimes. Hug him and pull him into your chest when you watch movies. You play with his hair. You trace patterns on the back of his hand. Surely, those are all things lovers do? But your eyes never linger on his lips, you never look at him with yearning — he can tell you already have everything you want. It makes him feel… relieved.

He likes it when you touch him. He never liked being touched before, but you’re warm and gentle without being too light with him. You don’t touch him like he’s fragile, but you don’t intend to test his limits. You never stray from the safe areas on his body. You never touch with intent to go any further.

He feels safe.

Whenever he’s not out on business, he comes home to you. Will you have grown tired of him by next time, he always wonders. And the answer is always no. You’re always happy to see him.

He frequently finds himself thinking about you. He frequently finds himself missing you when he’s away. He sees things that remind him of you everywhere, and often wishes you were with him. All symptoms of being in love, he’s heard, but he doesn’t think he’s in love? To be fair, he has never experienced true attraction, and what he feels for you is certainly deeper and more intimate than what he’s ever felt for anyone else, so maybe he is in love with you.

But does romance not entail wanting to kiss you? Does romance not entail wanting to see you naked? Does romance not entail wanting to have sex? He doesn’t particularly crave any of those things.

He’s heard of ‘butterflies’ in your belly when seeing the one you love. He never feels that when he sees you. He only feels a deep sense of comfort, of contentment.

But he doesn’t like the thought of you being with anyone else the way you are with him. Jealousy is a sign of romantic feelings, yes? So maybe he does love you that way after all.

But he never asks you to be his partner. Whenever he considers it, something oddly heavy settles in his gut, and he doesn’t understand why. Why would the thought of being your partner leave him with dread? You’d make a wonderful lover, he knows. You already make a wonderful…

… friend? Can he really call you just a friend?

You call him or text him every day to make sure he’s okay. You send him photos of things that reminds him of you. You cook him meals when he visits you and you buy him gifts even though he could very well buy things for himself. You cuddle him and hug him and you sometimes even, albeit playfully, kiss his knuckles or the top of his head and you let him sleep in your bed with you.

Calling you only a ‘friend’ diminishes your worth, does it not? He calls everyone he meets ‘friend’. He can’t reduce you to something so… insignificant.

So he asks you one day, when you’re both sat on opposite sides of your couch, your legs splayed out over his lap as you eat popcorn. He asks:

“What are we?”

You look at him. And you smile.

“I don’t know.”

He blinks. You sound so serene as you say it. Are you not worried about this? Why do you seem so unconcerned with what he is to you?

Sensing his discomfort, you set the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table, and scoot closer to him. His arms automatically wrap around your waist as you shift yourself to lean against him, leaning down to place your head on his shoulder.

“I don’t need to label what we are. I’m happy with things as they are. Are you?”

He nuzzles his face into your hair, inhaling the by now familiar scent of your shampoo.

“I am.”

“You don’t sound entirely convinced.”

He huffs, pulling you closer.

“… Maybe I don’t want you to treat others the way you treat me.”

(He doubts you would. You have more integrity than he’s ever had: he’s aware there is some level of mutual understanding that whatever you are is something exclusive.)

You laugh.

“You think I treat others like you?”

“Can’t be sure,” he hums playfully, pinching your side. “Who knows, maybe you say that to all the guys.”

“I don’t like ‘all the guys’,” you point out. “I only like you this way.”

“What does ‘this way’ mean, then?”

You pull back to look at him. Gaze as warm and kind as always, a smile on your lips.

“Well, I love you a lot. A lot more than I love others. I’m not sure what answer you want.”

You’ve never explicitly stated the word ‘love’ before. Something hot and giddy fills his chest, something awfully childish, but he ignores it.

“Do you want me to be your… boyfriend?” he asks hesitantly. He’s not sure what he feels about the idea himself.

“I mean, if that’s what you want,” you shrug, sounding so casual about the idea that he doubts you’re that enthusiastic about it. (Should he feel offended?) “I just don’t want anything to change between us. I really like what we’ve got going on.”

He leans back into you, burying his face into your hair again. His arms squeeze your waist.

“… I like what we’ve got going on, too,” he admits. The honesty feels a little less foreign on his tongue than it used to, before he met you.

“I guess it’d be easier to call you my boyfriend than my ‘very close friend who eats all my food and sleeps in my bed half the time’,” you add teasingly. He snorts, pulling back just enough to shoot you a playful glare.

“Food that I pay you back double for,” he points out. You snicker, but don’t respond.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” You ask instead after a moment, reaching up to play with his hair. He leans into the touch.

He’s quiet for a moment, considering the question.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I guess you’re right that it’d be easier to call each other that. Maybe we should go for it.”

“Sounds good,” you agree, and that’s that.

And nothing changes in your relationship. All that changes is the title.

You cuddle and you hug and you spend time together. Whenever you flirt, it’s more of an inside joke than anything else. You go on not-dates nearly once a week, whenever he’s home to do that.

He doesn’t tell people what you really are to him. He doesn’t even have the words to describe it himself. It doesn’t matter to him than anyone else knows either. Maybe he’s just a little bit happy, even, to get to keep the secret of what you are to himself. It somehow feels more special when only the two of you know.

He starts confiding in you. Telling you things he would not tell anyone else. Things he previously thought he would bring to his grave. About himself, about his past, his thoughts and his feelings. You always hold him, let him speak until it’s off his chest, and you murmur comforting words. He feels so much lighter after, every time.

You tell him your secrets too. Your doubts and your worries. He holds you in return, and tries to soothe your concerns. He knows he’s not as good at it as you, but you seem to appreciate it anyways.

He doesn’t trust anyone else. Only you. You’re the only one he knows he can always turn to, the only person he knows for sure doesn’t mean him any harm.

He brings you gifts and trinkets he finds when he’s away. He’s gotten pretty good at figuring out what sort of things you like. You always give him the sweetest smile when he does, thank him with a hug, and put the item to use right away. Whether that means displaying a decoration somewhere along your already overfilled shelves, putting on a bracelet or trying out a new kitchen appliance that night. He starts to think that the point of wealth is to give you all the things you could want.

For some reason, the intimate nature of your relationship doesn’t scare him. The fact that you’ve told him he’s ’more like the closest friend you could ever want to have than a lover’ puts him at ease. Your commitment to one another doesn’t feel as frightening that way.

You prioritise him over your other commitments. You tell him he’s your ‘favourite person’, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop feeling warm in his chest when he thinks about it. You’re his favourite, too.

Sorry I seriously ran out of steam for this format here, moving on to headcanons from another perspective because I am NOT DONE !!!! (next part won't have been proof-read at all sorry guys it will just be unhinged rambling)

I don't think Aventurine would necessarily know what queerplatonic means, (and the way I've written Reader here they probably wouldn't go out of their way to research it either lol I think they're just the type to be like "well I'm happy so why would I need to know every little detail about what this is ?? 😊") and he doesn't really understand the nature of your relationship himself HELP

He just knows it's not romantic, and that really puts him at ease

I think Aventurine is like. EXTREMELY toxic in a romantic relationship because the though of that sort of commitment scares him on a very deep and personal level and it FREAKS. HIM. OUT. but I think a platonic relationship, even if it's just as deep, freaks him out a little less. It just feels different yknow ?

Idk how to formulate myself but I think that, after being looked at for like basically his whole life as a commodity (and, even worse, a literal sex object), the thought of being looked at without ANY sexual desire or romantic interest just really kind of puts him at ease.

Especially in this read of him as demi/aroace, I think he'd appreciate being seen in a purely platonic light. I personally don't think he is aroace in the way I normally write him, but even in the way I usually write him I do think a queerplatonic relationship would be deeply comforting for him

Like, think reader being aroace and being in a queerplatonic relationship with him and he's like actually in love with them,,, I don't think he'd mind that too much. He'd think it was so nice that you love him enough to be in a relationship even if you don't romantically love him. Even if it would be nice too if you did desire him that way, he'd like it either way

Sorry got off track there mb

Queerplatonic relationships are tricky to write because there is no real "norm" for what they entail like,, fuck man I'M aroace and I barely know what it means to be in a qpps

Like,, from my understanding it can be essentially the same as a "normal" relationship where you kiss and get married and have kids and all that stuff but you do it without romantic intent

or it can be a friendship that just goes really really deep, and you're just like,,,, idk roomates PLS

But I think a qpps with Aventurine would be somewhere inbetween what others would think a "normal" romantic relationship would be and just a very close friendship

I already mentioned cuddles, and like chaste kisses to more "safe/platonic" areas (forehead, top of head, hands etc). You sleep in the same bed and you basically go on dates ("not-dates" lol). I think he'd be fine with like kisses to the lips and playful flirting, but he wouldn't want to make out or have sex. He would however love to cuddle naked lol (the intimacy without any sexual intent,,,, yeahyeah I hope you get me here I lovveee lovelove the idea of just touching him and it's just sweet and urghhghh)

Everyone else definitely thinks the two of you are in love and neither of you correct people because who cares

Esp Aventurine I don't think he WANTS others to know what you are to a point where he'll actively try to make it seem more like a romantic relationship in front of others

Because what you are is very precious to him, and he maybe feels just slightly maybe just a bit irrationally possessive over the concept of your relationship PLS

Like no he doesn't want anyone to understand your bond. That is SPECIAL. It is only for him and you to understand back off

I love my toxic unhealthy mentally deranged king

I think I've said everything I wanted to say now so I'm ending it off here. Worst case scenario I'll be back with a part 2 or a reblog to add more LMAO I just can't shut up bro

♡ ∩_∩ („• ֊ •„)♡ |￣U U￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣| | Thanks for reading! | ￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

Thanks for reading I appreciate it !!! I hope this was at least somewhat comprehensible <3 Remember that my inbox is open and I lovelovelove to receive requests <3

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punkshort · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter warnings: language, alcohol use, sexual tension, tiny bit of smut, angst, pretty long chapter lol

Chapter Five

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

September 2003

Work had been so busy you barely realized the summer was coming to an end. You haven’t seen a whole lot of Joel lately, save for your monthly accounting meetings with him. He would still cast glances in your direction, with a discreet smile if you caught his eye, but your one-on-one interactions have been minimal. It didn’t bother you. Actually, you were relieved because Colleen had stopped bringing up her suspicions about your relationship with him.

On this particular day, Colleen was more fixated on the other Miller brother. She was posted up in your cubical, quietly recounting for you her latest interactions with Tommy. She was frustrated because he seemed to be giving her the cold shoulder. When she caught him in the breakroom early one morning alone, she confronted him about it, and he explained that he needed to stop socializing with the women in the office.

“I knew what I was getting into when we started hooking up, but it still took me by surprise, you know?” Colleen whispered, looking distraught. She sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t know, maybe I was starting to get feelings for him, and I thought he might be, too. I'm such an idiot."

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you asked. You felt bad for your friend.

Her gaze shot up to meet yours, suddenly excited. She clasped her hands together with a huge grin.

"Yes! Let’s go out to a bar tonight! Pretty please! You never go with us, and I swear it would make me feel so much better.” Colleen had you right where she wanted you, and you fell for it. You rolled your eyes.

"Okay," you agreed.

“Yay! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’ll see if Debbie and Kyle can come, too! We can make it a fun night out.” Kyle was the newest hire in your department, who also happened to be gay. You had grown to really like him the past several weeks. He clicked with the three of you instantly. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea.

You let yourself get a little excited at the prospect of a night out. It was a Thursday, so you told yourself as you headed to the bar to meet your friends that you had to limit yourself to two drinks. The department had a meeting with Joel the next morning and you knew it would be obvious if you were all hungover.

You walked up to the front of the bar, waving to your friends huddled in a circle waiting for you. The days were still warm, but the nights were beginning to get cooler. You wished you had thought to grab a jacket to throw over your dress for the journey home, but the alcohol would have to warm you up instead. You were relieved to find that you dressed appropriately for the night out: you had on a sleeveless black dress that hugged your hips and showed just the right amount of cleavage. You paired it with a pair of red pumps you hardly wore that gave you just a few extra inches of height. Colleen wore a similarly flirty bright pink dress with matching heels. Even Debbie, who typically wore dress pants to the office, was dressed up in a modest skirt. Kyle clued in on you first, giving you a low wolf whistle when he saw your outfit. Men had it so much easier: he simply wore a white button-down shirt with the first two buttons opened, revealing a smooth chest underneath, and a pair of black jeans.

“You look amazing, girl!” Kyle pulled you into a hug and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. The four of you headed towards the bouncer leaning up against the door.

Colleen hurried over to him and planted a kiss on his cheek, which he returned. She spoke to him for a few seconds while glancing back at the three of you, just out of earshot. Then he beckoned you all over and moved out of the way so you could squeeze inside. Colleen stood on her tiptoes to give him another kiss on the cheek, and followed you in, much to the annoyance of the people patiently waiting in line.

“Is this an exclusive spot or something?” you asked Kyle, who had removed his arm from your shoulders to grab the wallet from his back pocket.

“Kind of!” he shouted over the music. “It’s not super exclusive, but it's a little swanky.” He approached the bar to get the bartender’s attention, and then turned back to the three of you, asking what you wanted to drink.

Once you had drinks in hand, the group of you weaved around the clusters of people drinking and chatting until you found a small table to sit down.

The group of you talked loudly over the music, mostly about work, and the crowdedness of the bar. You casually glanced around, sipping on your glass of wine and taking in the beautiful chandeliers above you. The bar itself was long and made from a very dark wood, with leather covered stools pushed up against it, all of them filled with people. There was a big screen tv behind the bartenders that currently was playing some sultry music video you didn't recognize.

You noticed there were staircases on either side of the room that led to another floor, which appeared to be divided up into smaller, partially enclosed rooms. You assumed people much richer than you occupied those rooms with their friends, relying on bottle service rather than waiting at the bar for drinks.

The laughter coming from your friends drew your attention back, your vision getting a little unsteady from the wine. Your cheeks were starting to feel warm as you laughed along with them, watching as Kyle and Colleen stand up to dance to a song that just started.

You were happy Colleen seemed to be in a good mood tonight, watching as Kyle swung her around on the dance floor. Debbie stood up to get herself another drink, but you put your hand out to stop her.

"It's my turn to buy, I'll get it!" You yelled to her. She smiled and relented, reminding you of her drink order as you got up to head to the bar.

You pushed your way through the throngs of people, the place looking even more packed than before. Your head was swimming just slightly, a nice buzz settling in from the two glasses of wine you had. You reminded yourself you should probably stop drinking; it was almost midnight and you had promised yourself your max was two drinks.

You leaned against the bar, waiting to get the attention of one of the bartenders. You found it to be difficult, occasionally reaching a hand out but failing to catch their eye.

Finally, the bartender turned and looked right at you, or you thought he was looking at you, but he was actually looking right over your shoulder. You twisted around and found Joel standing directly behind you, his eyes still on the bartender, and was pointing down, flagging him down for you.

You gazed up at him, admiring up close his strong jaw and his deep brown eyes. Suddenly, you realized you really missed seeing him outside of those meetings. You missed his familiar scent of leather and citrus invading your senses, the electricity you felt when you sat across from him in his office, and... oh shit, you were too tipsy to interact with him right now.

He looked back down at you and smiled, then his gaze dipped down to take in the dress you were wearing, and his smile faltered a bit. He cleared his throat and pointed towards the bartender, who was waiting for your order. You leaned forward on the bar again and yelled your drink order to him, deciding against your better judgement to get another glass of wine.

The bartender disappeared to get your drinks, and you turned your attention back to Joel. He was wearing a dark pair of jeans with a black button-down, which was opened, revealing a plain white t-shirt underneath and clutching a leather jacket in his hand. He looked really good.

"Thank you," you said, trying to collect yourself.

Joel frowned and cupped his hand behind his ear. You stretched on your tiptoes and leaned up towards his him. You left one of your hands on the bar, and the other gently rested on his shoulder so you wouldn't fall.

"Thank you," you repeated so he could hear.

You had never been this close to him before. You absorbed the residual smell of shampoo from his hair, and the whiskey on his breath. You felt him exhale gently on the side of your neck, giving you goosebumps, and you had to bite down on your lip to keep yourself from saying something stupid.

You lowered yourself back down, forgetting you were wearing heels taller than you were used to. You stumbled a bit, but regained your balance quickly since your hand was still planted on the bar. Nonetheless, Joel shot his arm out around your waist and pulled you close, in an effort to keep you from falling, which he realized too late was unnecessary.

Your eyes trailed up his chest to meet his gaze, your lips parting slightly. Joel tensed at the feeling of your body pressed against his. You looked so fucking beautiful in that dress, it was driving him crazy. He had noticed you from his private table on the upper floor. He tried to focus on the people he was with, but he couldn't get his mind off you. When he saw you walking to the bar alone, he found an excuse to leave the table and follow you.

Joel's gaze kept flicking back and forth between your lips and your eyes. You were frozen to the ground, neither of you wanting the embrace to end. An "excuse me!" over the music dragged your attention away from Joel to the other side of the bar. The bartender told you the total as he pushed the two drinks towards you.

Begrudgingly, you untangled yourself from Joel's hold to grab your purse. Joel put his hand over yours to stop you from opening your wallet.

"Put it on my tab!" He shouted at the bartender, who nodded and gave a thumbs up. You looked back up at him with a smile.

"You didn't have to do that!"

He shrugged it off and looked down at what you had ordered. Your wine and Debbie's mixed drink. He cocked his eyebrow at you.

"Two?" he teasingly asked.

You giggled, the alcohol was going straight to your head. You jerked your head back towards your table and explained "Debbie!"

Joel looked in the direction of your table and saw Colleen, a man he barely recognized, and he now remembered Debbie from that night in the conference room.

You scooped up the two drinks from the bar and turned to thank him again, but he stopped you.

"Why don't you give Debbie her drink and we can go someplace quieter?" he said in your ear, making your breath catch in your throat.

If you had been more sober, you would have made an excuse about needing to stay with your friends. You took a sip from your glass, examining Joel's face. You wondered if he had too much to drink. Worried if he had, he would regret spending time alone with you in this type of setting. But he didn't look like he was that drunk, so you gave him a sharp nod and quickly made your way back to your friends.

You handed Debbie her drink and shouted, "I'll be right back, I'm going to get some fresh air!"

"Hold on, I'll come with you, I just have to pee!" Debbie yelled, but you shook your head. "It's alright! You stay here, I won't be long!"

"Are you sure?!"

You nodded firmly and gave a thumbs up, turning around before she could change her mind.

"Be safe!" she shouted as you disappeared into the crowd.

Joel watched you talking to your friends, hidden from them in the thicket of bodies. He wasn't sure what his plan was, he just couldn't let you go yet. He had been waiting for the right time to be honest with you. Maybe tonight, with some liquid courage, was that time.

He eyed your approaching form up and down appreciatively, his gaze lingering on your red heels. He imagined those heels on his shoulders as he thrusted into you, spread out on his bed and moaning his name. He tried to blink the fantasy away as you stopped before him, looking up at him expectantly. One step at a time.

He placed his arm around your shoulders and turned you towards the door. The air was much brisker than when you had arrived a couple hours ago, but you didn't mind. The mixture of alcohol and Joel's body heat was enough.

The two of you walked away from the line of people still waiting to get in. You slowed your pace and leaned back against the bar's cool brick wall, looking up at Joel hazily.

He took a deep breath and rested his arm on the wall above your head, giving you your space but remaining close.

You took another sip from your glass before asking "What're you doing here?"

Realizing it didn't come out how you intended, you added "this bar, I mean. D'you come here a lot?" Your words were beginning to slur.

He shifted his weight and fixed his gaze on something down the street. "It's my birthday tomorrow."

Your jaw dropped and you playfully shoved his shoulder. "I didn't know that! Happy Birthday! I should've been the one to buy you a drink!"

He smirked and brought his gaze down towards you once again.

"Nah, no need, sweetheart. It's not a big deal. Some of the guys at work insisted on bringin' me out tonight. Couldn't do it tomorrow, got plans with Tommy." You gasped at Tommy's name.

"Oh, no, is Tommy here? 'Cause Colleen was really upset earlier-" but Joel cut you off.

"No, he's on a business trip out west. We are lookin' to acquire a company out there, expand our footprint. He's comin' back tomorrow," he assured you.

"Oh, good." You relaxed, still gazing up at Joel. Your eyes trailed along his broad shoulders and chest, which were still partially caging you in. You thought about how it might feel to have his arms wrapped around you, what it would feel like to have his weight pressing against your body. A shiver went down your spine.

Joel noticed. He gently took the glass from your hand and placed it on a ledge nearby. He opened up the leather jacket he had in his other hand, motioning for you to turn around so he could put it on your shoulders. You pushed off against the wall and slowly turned, making sure you didn't stumble. He placed the cool, smooth leather carefully over your bare arms.

"Thank you," you whispered as you turned back to face him. He was looking down at you, desperately searching your eyes for something.

Feeling emboldened by the alcohol, you ran your hand up his stomach and grabbed his collar, pulling him toward you and pressing your mouth firmly on his.

He was stunned for a moment, but responded quickly. The hand that once held his jacket now cupped the side of your face, while his other arm returned to the wall above your head. You had lightly fallen back against the brick and brought both your hands to gently rest on his strong chest.

Strangely, the first thought in your head was of Justin. You were right for breaking up with him. You didn't feel a spark, but with Joel, your whole body felt on fire.

You moaned quietly, and he took that opportunity to deepen your kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips and massaging your own. You could taste a heady combination of whiskey and a hint of spearmint. It was heavenly. He pushed his mouth onto yours with more pressure, as his tongue hungrily increased its pace. You felt dizzy. So many months of buildup finally erupted in this moment. Your hands inched up to grasp his strong shoulders as he lowered himself down a fraction and pushed his upper body against yours. He moaned against your mouth and tightened his hold on your jaw. You felt your lower abdomen flutter and your panties soak with arousal.

A group of girls walked by the pair of you, giggling loudly, bringing you both back to reality. You pulled away gently, keeping your forehead pressed against his as you fought to catch your breath.

You both kept your eyes closed, panting and savoring the moment. Joel was the first to pull away. He looked down at you with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Come home with me," he whispered huskily.

You felt yourself clench at his words, so desperate to say yes. But you didn't want to be drunk your first time with him. You closed your eyes again and tipped your head back against the brick wall.

"I don't think it's a good idea," you whispered back. "I've had too much to drink, and I want to remember."

His breath hitched and his eyes squeezed shut. Fuck, he wanted you so badly. But he knew you were right. He reopened his eyes and looked back down at you, your head resting against the wall, eyelids still shut. He leaned forward, eager to kiss you again, but stopped himself: he knew if he did, he would never stop. So instead, he pushed off the wall and took your hand.

"Lemme get you back to your friends, they gotta be worried 'bout you by now."

You chewed your bottom lip as you reentered the bar, slipping his jacket off and handing it back before your friends could see. Behind you, he whispered in your ear, "You better get home, you got a big meeting with your boss tomorrow."

You turned to react, but he was already rushing back up the stairs towards his private room.

You woke up at 6am to your alarm clock blaring the voices of the local morning radio show. Your head pounded and your mouth was dry. You groaned as you rolled out of bed, quickly sitting back down when you got the spins. You chided yourself for not eating more before going out last night.

You headed to your bathroom, partially listening to the radio show as you peed. You had started to hear something about some infection overrunning hospitals in the area, but you had to turn the noise off before your head exploded.

Thankfully, a shower made you feel so much better. You only had the pounding headache to contend with now. As you applied your makeup, you took note of your swollen lips. Then the night before came rushing back to you. It hadn't been a dream, you really kissed Joel. And he invited you back to his place. Shit.

The hand holding your lipstick hovered above your mouth as you replayed the scene against the brick wall: his hand on your jaw, his tongue in your mouth, the way he tasted, the way he smelled...

You looked at the time. You couldn't dwell on it right now or you were going to miss your train. You snatched your purse from the table by the door, tripping over the hiking backpack you had forgotten to give back to Justin, and you locked your apartment door behind you.

When you walked into the accounting department, you saw Colleen slouched over her desk. She was wearing black pants with a sleeveless white blouse, a noticeable change from her usual pink dresses and skirts. You greeted her and she turned around to give you a weak smile.

"You're super hungover, too, huh?" you joked, setting your things down.

"Ugh, yes. I've never felt this shitty in my life, and I don't think I even had much to drink!"

You examined her face; she looked a lot worse than you felt. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she looked a little sweaty.

"Where did you run off to? When I got back inside, you had already left," you asked.

She perked up a little bit and said, "Oh, I went home with a really cute guy! He was super nice, but something kind of weird happened..."

You gave Colleen your full attention now, concerned. "What was it? Are you ok?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine. But he... bit me. On the leg," she whispered. "Kind of hard. He even drew a little blood."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Are you sure you're ok? That sounds strange."

Colleen brushed you off and assured you she was fine, she said she just wasn't expecting it. You shrugged and turned back to your desk. You had more important matters to attend to anyway.

You rummaged around in the supply closet to find a loose piece of blue tissue paper. On your way into work you passed by a newspaper stand. You hardly ever stopped there before, but today you did, remembering it was Joel’s birthday. You looked around on the shelves that were next to the postcards, and you found a little something for him. You quickly wrapped it up in the used tissue paper and set it aside for later. The meeting was at 10am, you had two hours to get your game face on and shake the rest of your hangover.

Your team was already seated in the conference room for at least ten minutes before Joel stormed into the room, a stack of papers in one hand and his cell phone in the other. He didn't look like he was hungover, unlike Colleen who was getting worse by the minute. She was trying to nonchalantly hold her head up with her fist tucked under her chin, staring down at the table.

You chanced a look in Joel's direction once the meeting was underway, but he wouldn't look at you. In fact, he didn't look your way once the entire time. You were beginning to wonder if you had dreamed up what happened last night. Then the paranoia began to set in: what if he was mad at you because you refused to go home with him? He didn't seem that upset when you turned him down, but maybe you didn't notice in your drunken stupor.

The meeting was wrapping up, and he still didn’t cast one glance in your direction. Before he dismissed everyone, he asked Heather if you could bring the quarterly reports up to his office later. He still wouldn’t look at you, just directly at Heather, even when openly talking about you. You furrowed your brow, confused. Heather seemed a bit confused as well, but she assured him you would, looking over at you and nodding.

You got back to your desk, still perplexed about the cold shoulder from Joel. You sifted through the mail that was left for you while everyone was upstairs, and about 20 minutes later, Heather came into the room to give you the reports Joel requested. She reminded you to make copies and bring the originals back to her.

You stood up, shoving the small gift you got for Joel in your pants pocket, when your eyes fell on Colleen again, chugging water and sweating so much her hair was growing damp.

“Colleen! What is going on with you?” you exclaimed, shocked at how much she had deteriorated since that morning.

“Girl, I don’t know, but I need to go home. I think I have a fever, and” she dropped her voice lower, “that bite on my leg looks kind of nasty.”

"Oh my god," you gasped. "I heard on the radio today about some weird infection going around, you might have it! You should go to the ER!”

Colleen nodded but it looked like she was hardly listening to you.

"I just gotta go to the bathroom real quick and then I’m gonna leave. I’ll stop by Heather’s office before I go.”

“Do you need me to bring you anything? I can stop by later with some soup," you offered, but Colleen shook her head.

"I just need to sleep, but thanks," she said.

You parted ways with Colleen, only after promising to stop by this weekend to check on her, and made your way to the copy room before heading up to Joel’s office. Kyle was the only other person in the room when you got there.

“Hey!” you said, excited to see him. "Last night was so much fun!”

Kyle laughed and agreed.

"I just wish we got to dance together!" he said. "You disappeared outside for so long!”

You giggled, pushing the thoughts of your rendezvous with Joel from your mind, and stretched your arm out to him.

“Better late than never!” you said with a giggle.

Even though there was no music, you both swung each other around the copy room, laughing while Kyle tried, badly, to sing Beyoncé.

You felt like you finally belonged somewhere. So happy you had found some friends, and maybe even something more with Joel. You were actually making it work in New York City, like you always wanted. You giggled as Kyle wrapped his arms around your waist and continued to sing off key.

Joel was heading back from Heather’s office towards the elevator after she assured him that you were already on your way up to his office with the reports he requested. He had tossed and turned all night, replaying your kiss over and over. How soft your lips felt, the taste of the pinot grigio on your tongue, the feel of your fingertips digging into his shoulders… he was glad you had the presence of mind to not come home with him. He didn’t want to rush things with you, he wanted to do things right.

It was hard, but he had to force himself not to look at you during that meeting. If he did, he couldn't be sure if he would be able to hide his feelings for you in front of the whole accounting department. It's been so long since he felt this way about somebody, it was awakening something in him he thought was long gone.

He needed to get you alone. He had decided on a plan to ask you to dinner tomorrow night, and he wasn’t going to try to fuck you on the first date, either. He didn’t know what he was thinking last night – why would he push you like that? He wanted more, and he knew that took time.

He rounded the corner when he heard your beautiful laugh reach his ears. A smile stretched across his face before he could stop it: you just had that effect on him. He peered around the corner and froze at the scene before him.

There you were, with another man, in that fucking copy room, dancing and laughing with his arms around your waist. Joel’s smile quickly faded, and he saw red. His fists clenched at his sides, his anger boiling over.

Before he did something stupid, he marched to the elevator and got into the empty car, punching the number ‘10’ repeatedly, willing the doors to close faster.

Once he was in the safety of his own office with the door shut, he paced around the room replaying the events he had just witnessed. How could he read the situation so wrong? Of course you wouldn’t be interested in him, how could he be so stupid? And in that goddamn copy room, the same place he caught Amy with the CFO of his own fucking company. He was glad he at least refrained from pummeling the guy you were dancing with, unlike that time with Amy when he had nearly put that bastard into the hospital.

He had been so wrapped up in his anger that he didn’t hear his door open and you walk in.

“Joel?” you called out to him sweetly, which just pissed him off even more. How could you jump from one guy to the next without missing a beat?

He whipped around and saw you standing there, reports in one hand and something else clenched in the other one.

He stretched out his hand aggressively, scowl etched on his face.

“Give ‘em to me," he said gruffly.

You faltered for a moment, surprised at the hostility, but stepped forward and handed him the papers, which he all but ripped from your hand. Your smile quickly faded from your lips, the uncertainty settling in.

Shit, he IS pissed you didn’t sleep with him last night.

He sat down at his desk. Without any direction, you sat down nervously in the chair across from him, waiting patiently with his gift hidden in your lap. Maybe he is one of those people who hates their birthday and that's why he was moody. You looked down at your gift and decided if you gave it to him, maybe it would lift his spirits.

You raised your head, opening your mouth about to wish him a happy birthday, but clamped it shut when he suddenly cut you off.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?” he asked darkly, still not looking up from the reports.

You stiffened, not sure what he was referring to. The anger in his tone made you anxious.

"W-what do you mean?”

His eyes shot up to meet yours, icy and hardened.

"You know exactly what I mean, prancin’ around this office every day, screwin’ anything that moves,” he snarled at you. “You think you can add me to your list? Use me, for what? A raise or somethin’? What’s your angle?”

You stared at him, jaw dropped, trying to process what he just said. This can’t be happening. What was going on? Was this about Justin? That was so long ago.

“Close your mouth, sweetheart,” he spat, the term of endearment he so charmingly used to use on you, now filled with hate. "You go use it on someone else, I got no use for a whore.”

You swore in that moment, time stood still. Anything else he said after that, you didn’t hear. Your vision narrowed and your ears were ringing. A whore?

His mouth kept moving, and you kept staring, but you couldn’t hear any of it. You felt your lips and fingers go numb first. Then a buzzing invaded your head and your whole body tensed. Joel continued to growl things in your direction, but none of it got through to you. This was the man that everyone warned you about. This was who he really was. You were foolish to think something else was there. He just wanted to fuck you, just like his brother fucked half the staff, and when you refused, you saw the man for who he really was. A whore?!

“Stop.” You said calmly. Too calmly. And Joel obeyed, taken aback at your response.

“Nobody,” you said, standing up and glaring at him now, “nobody speaks to me that way. Do you understand me?” Joel just stared at you, his eyes still flashing with anger, unsure how to respond.

“I don’t know who you think you are,” you continued, pointing a finger at him, “and personally, I don’t give a shit. I will not sit here and listen to you berate me for absolutely no reason, for a job I could do anywhere else!” Your voice was rising now as you cast your arm out to gesture towards the city behind him.

Joel sat motionless in his chair, listening to your outburst. He was used to people crying, or even yelling obscenities back, but not this.

Your adrenaline was kicking in now, and you began to feel shaky and weak. You needed to leave.

Chest heaving, unblinkingly staring him right in the eye, you quietly said, “Fuck you, Joel. I quit.”

You turned on your heel and headed towards the door, your hands shaking so badly you dropped his birthday gift, but you had to keep walking. You couldn't risk letting him see you cry.

Your instinct was to wait for the elevator, but you were worried he might emerge from his office and see you, so you walked past Ruby's desk to the stairwell. She definitely had overheard some of your argument with Joel. She gawked at you as you walked by her desk briskly, but your eyes were focused straight ahead.

You pushed the door open and nearly ran down to the 6th floor, back to the sanctity of your cubical. You snatched your purse onto your shoulder and hastily grabbed a box from under your desk. Tipping it over to empty it, you threw a few personal effects into the box.

You didn't bother to say anything to Debbie or Kyle, vaguely noting Colleen was already gone, or even Heather. You figured Joel could fill her in himself. What an asshole.

This time you felt safe to wait for the elevator, tears stinging the back of your eyes. Grateful the car opened empty, you lept inside and jabbed the lobby button repeatedly.

You could taste your freedom. You saw the exit, not even registering the security guards rushing past you, weapons drawn. You were focused on leaving this place behind you and thanking the stars above you didn't fall for Joel's seductive trap. At least you still had your dignity.

It must have been lunchtime by now, the streets looked more packed than usual as you marched down the sidewalk. It wasn't until later you realized people were running and screaming. You were so wrapped up in your own drama, you didn't even notice.

That was, until you heard Joel's voice yelling your name.

You thought you hallucinated it, your foolish imagination running away with you again, but you kept hearing it, at least three times now. Your place slowed, and your focus began to come back to the world around you. Why were all these people running?

Suddenly, you felt a strong hand on your shoulder. You turned around, looking up to see Joel's softened expression, gasping from trying to catch up with you.

You frowned, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks. Before you could lash out at him, he spoke.

"Please, just stop and listen to me."

Before he could continue, six trucks filled with FEDRA soldiers pulled up in front of the building, capturing your attention.

They stormed the building, guns drawn, as you watched helplessly. You heard screaming, and then gunshots. You stood frozen to the ground, stunned. Another terrorist attack, your mom was right.

Joel's eyes looked panicked and confused, before he grasped you by your shoulders and forced your attention back on him. He said something to you, but you didn't hear it, still staring at him, dazed.

"Run!" He yelled, again. That time you heard him. You dropped the box in your arms as he grasped your hand in his own, dragging you both down the street, opposite the office building.

Chapter Six

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us game

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34saveme34 · 4 months ago

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"I don't want Puzzles redeemed because he did bad things" are you aware that only characters that did bad things can be redeemed?

like are you aware of the concept of redeeming a character? Which more than not comes from the evil, the ANTAGONIST side? which means that it's really only villains (and characters affected by villains) that can be redeemed, right? Like, are you aware?

Your precious SMG3 also stalked 4 before, actually 2 times I can recall for you. He actually tried to kill him more than once but you're turning your head, closing your eyes, ignoring it, not acknowledging his past. Not acknowledging the bad things he did out of envy and hatred and loneliness, something that Puzzles is absolutely also driven by, which you could absolutely see by the ending, that was absolutely a betrayal for him, he's absolutely controlled by his emotions in this regard

he's so similar to SMG3 it hurts

like 3 only really got to redeem himself because 4 needed him to save the world because they had to hold hands for powers

like. think about it with me for a second. imagine a world where 3 wasn't needed for 4 like that, if he could have just been powerful by himself. It could have been just 1 and 2 training him, 3 wouldn't have been needed at all

he could be very much written out and there you go, no more SMG3 redemption

it really just could have been SMG4 learning the power of memes instead. Internet graveyard could've gone fully forgotten, with 3 fully presumed, maybe even confirmed dead

so like, don't come at Puzzles like he's the devil itself if you don't want to lend the same thing for 3

"but Puzzles isn't canonically redeemed" man it's almost like you can't rush good things!

"But 3 showed he could change!" well Puzzles showed feelings, he showed he's VULNERABLE and to me, genuinely, it hurt to see him upset. I can fix him /platonic

"But that's not enough to redeem him!" waa waa waa, I want all Puzzles redeemable traits immediately on my plate, no matter how soon it would be to serve it just so I can rest easy knowing he can be a good guy, regardless of quality

"but he's a bad person! He caused so much trauma! he's an asshole" do you hear yourself? ratio + your thinking is limited + hypocrite especially if you really like SMG3 + your arguments are at best are as filling as watered down glue + your mother

#smg4 #nicc-thinks #more like nicc rants tbh but yes

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azrielslightintheshadows · 1 year ago

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Hey, everything okay?

Thank you so much for fulfilling my request, I simply loved it! and I am completely in love with your writing!

If it's okay, I'd like to ask Rhys something, something sad but with a happy ending, because I'm a soft person. I thought of something, where maybe Rhys isn't spending time with the reader, and that's why the reader is feeling really bad, then when Feyre comes in and Rhys starts to help her, the reader gets worse, she stops eating, doesn't communicate much well with others and is lacking a lot in her training, but she closes her feelings of the bond and Rhys doesn't notice anything, and because of this, the reader becomes worse off, and perhaps thinks that Rhys doesn't love her anymore? Then, perhaps, one night where the Inner Circle would have dinner, perhaps to meet Feyre, the reader reaches her limit and ends up fainting?

And after that, she opens up, with difficulty, to Rhys, talks about her insecurities, jealousy and so on, and Rhys feels guilty, and starts to take care of her.

I know it's long, I'm sorry, if you don't like it, you can just ignore this

Together.

Rhysand x f!Reader

Masterlist.

Warnings; mentions of abuse, trauma and sexual assault.

It had been 50 years since you last saw your mate. 50 years since he last held you. 50 years since he last told you he loved you and you said it back. And one day everything changed, Amarantha was dead and you saw him again, he held you again and you told each other I love you again. But he wasn’t the same anymore. He would wake up sobbing, he would disappear in his office for hours and most nights he would come to bed after you had fallen asleep. At first you didn’t mind it because you knew he needed space and time to heal, you wished he would let you in, perhaps let you help him, but you respected his needs and backed off. Now though you felt like you were the problem, he had opened up to his brothers and was acting like his old self with them, with Mor and Amren too, but with you… he was still distant, he wouldn’t spend any time alone with you and when you were in the same room he would give his attention to anyone but you. If that wasn’t enough one day he left hurriedly and he didn’t come back for three days, and you had to find out by Mor that he took Tamlin’s bride -the girl who saved everyone from Amarantha- and he was keeping her in the palace above the court of nightmares. When you found out you immediately winnowed there ready to confront him about it, but changed your plans when you saw her alone, she was trying to read a piece of paper and you heard;

“Rhysand is the most handsome High Lord”

You almost scoffed at this and winnowed back to Velaris, you blocked the mating bond and locked yourself in the bedroom you shared.

Your appetite was gone, your body was numb and after some days you became an empty cell. You were losing weight, you couldn’t finish your training and kept to yourself.

Cassian and Azriel would stop by and ask you if you need anything but other than that you wouldn’t talk to them.

Mor and Amren were a bit more pushy but you handled them well and they let you be.

Rhysand was the only one who hadn’t noticed, well of course he wouldn’t, he was too busy with Feyre and you doubted that he still loved you.

You were laying in bed, staring at the ceiling -something you became really good at during the past week- when Mor walked in. She took a seat next to you and stroked your hair.

“Hey” she whispered and you looked at her. “Talk to me honey. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Just tired.” You replied and turned your back on her. She let out a sight and got up “Rhys wants us all in the house of wind tonight… I don’t know why”

“Okay” you muttered and clenched your teeth. He sent Mor to inform you? He didn’t even want to see you anymore? Now it made sense why since that day you went to the court of nightmares he didn’t come home again. The more you thought about this you hadn’t even seen him since the day he took Feyre from the spring court. He came to Velaris you were sure of that you could feel his power but he never came home. You felt dizzy, was this the end?

You got up and took a bath, then you went to your closet and stared at your clothes. Nothing fitted you anymore, everything was hanging off you like it was four sizes bigger and it probably was. You picked a midnight black dress, you could see your bones sticking out in the places the dress didn’t cover you, but you couldn’t change, everything else wouldn’t stay in place.

You winnowed to the house of wind and hissed when your feet touched the ground, you were used to the drop but now… you were so weak that your whole body shook and you fell on your knees. You held the tears back and tried to stand again, Cassian saw you and ran to your side.

“Hey easy” he said and pulled you up “what happened to you?” He gasped when he took a better look at you.

“I’m fine” you muttered and walked inside. Azriel was there and he gasped when you walked in. You knew you looked bad but hearing the shadowsinger gasp made you realise just how bad.

You brushed them off and took a seat. Some minutes later you felt your mate’s power and you glanced at the glass doors. And there he was, his face was even more beautiful than the time you last show him. His violet eyes looked like the stars on the sky of Velaris, so bright and filled with emotions. And there was her too -Feyre. You stood up and took a step back. Your eyes filled with tears as you stared at her and the room started to spin. Your body ached, every bone seemed to groan and your head felt like it was going to explode. You couldn’t understand what was happening you only heard Cassian yell “Az catch her” and then darkness. You let the darkness embrace you with a smile, it reminded you of Rhys and you didn’t want to let go.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You groaned as sun hit your eyes. You opened them and you were met with the sight of the ceiling. Someone was there, you felt a hand holding your own and you moved your gaze next to you. Rhysand was sitting on a chair next to your bed, his hand was holding yours and his head was resting on the bed. He was sleeping. Slowly all the memories came back and you realised that you fainted. With a frown you moved your body away from him, the movement waking him up. He tensed when you removed your hand from his own and lifted his head to look at you.

“You’re awake” he said and his eyes filled with tears. You nodded. You didn’t know what to say, he was the reason you were in this situation.

“Sweetheart talk to me, what happened?” He asked.

“Like you care” you croaked. He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Of course I care, what are you talking about?”

“I think you should leave” you replied and turned your head the other way.

“Don’t do that. Please tell me what’s wrong” his voice was breaking.

Anyone would be surprised by that, the most powerful high lord’s voice breaking but you weren’t, you knew him well and you had seen him in way more vulnerable moments than this.

“You.” You cried out. “You are the reason behind this. Ever since you came back you haven’t spent a single minute with me. You are fine with everyone else and then cold and distant with me”

He was gaping at you.

“You couldn’t notice that I was breaking apart, that I wasn’t eating, I wasn’t training, I wasn’t functioning properly. And how could you notice, you weren’t even there, too busy with Feyre. Do you even love me anymore?” You were panting trying to keep the sobs in.

“Of course I love you” he exclaimed and his hand went through his hair pulling it. He stared at you and guilt filled his eyes, with a deep breath he started talking again. “Sweetheart… you are right I’ve been distant and cold. But it’s not because I stopped loving you, it’s quite the opposite… I love you so much that it hurts. I love you so much that I can’t be around you after everything I had to do under the mountain. I slept with her, it was the only way to keep all of you safe. Every night I spent in her room I was thinking about you and how I was betraying you. Every time I left her room I would mourn… mourn our love that I betrayed. And when I came back I didn’t want to touch you… I didn’t want to defile you with those hands.” He was crying now and so were you.

“Oh Rhys…” you reached out to him and caressed his jaw. “I know what you had to do and I know why you did it… you didn’t betray me or our love, you were abused and it pains me so much. Those hands that I love would never defile me. You are way too precious for this world. Don’t push me away please… let me remind you what love is like, let me show you how deserving you truly are of love. We can get through this together.”

He nodded his head and climbed into bed next to you. He pulled you in his arms and stroked your hair, a few sobs escaping him. He kissed your head and whispered;

“Together”.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Your mate was back. After that day everything changed. Rhysand talked to you about everything that happened under the mountain, you spent the next days with soft touches here and there and then you started making love again. At first it was hard, Rhys would flinch with every move you made but after a few tries he got used to it. A year later you had your mate back. He would spend most of his free time with you, he would take you on dates and trips. His caring self came back and all the little things he used to do to make you feel loved came back too.

Every night he would cuddle you, every morning he would make you breakfast and most evenings would be spent on the couch, with you laying on top of him and him reading your favourite books.

Like you said… you got through everything Together.

Hope you enjoy it.

Still working on the other requests.

Requests are open but delayed.

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philsmeatylegss · 6 months ago

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Can I talk about Cat King because no one else will???

I haven’t finished the show yet so this might be wrong or age like milk

I could talk about his role in the story for hours. Tbh I overly identify with Edwin because I’m gay with a lot of problems in the past and Edwin’s historical typical internalized homophobia already makes a history nerd like me giddy with glee. And Cat King easily can be written off as a gag character, which I do think is part of his purpose, but he also represents the aspect of this story regarding Edwin’s sexuality not solely being sexual, but also still being sexual. As in obviously Edwin sexually fantasizes about men, but there’s much more than just that. That implication, acknowledging the fact, feeling free to tell Charles and the others, acting on that, just day to day life. Edwin had gotten by for thirty years ignoring his sexuality until cat king came along. Edwin acknowledging his sexuality, acting on it, and discussing it (in his own way) is a large part of his character growth which is fully pushed on because of Cat King. I know he’s supposed to be the bad guy, but I genuinely believe he is an anti hero or something along those lines. I think at first it was to just tease Edwin, but it grew into something deeper.

Don’t even get me started on the cuff. It is SO symbolic I could almost cry. It’s a physical representation of how limiting and claustrophobic it is to be in the closet. Specially not being out of the closet to close loved ones. You couldn’t have a closer relationship than the relationship between Edwin and Charles, but it doesn’t seem that way before Edwin comes out. And that’s multiple reasons on both of their parts, but part of it is that complete shut down to that side of himself. People don’t realize how much sexuality plays into day to day life. And Cat King made Edwin realize how much he’s missed out on. And also that he can’t put off his problems forever. Slay relatable.

I think the addition of Crystal and Niko also makes Edwin realize that he needs to at least recognize his sexuality. I think they help him realize how much he is missing out on by not being himself in general, nevertheless outing his sexuality.

And all of this goes back to the cat king!!! It drives me insane no one talks about it!!! There’s also the aspect that, on the surface, cat king is just supposed to represent lust. The difference between his feelings for Monty or Charles is that there’s emotions there while cat king is purely lust and a giggle. But when you think about the story, that’s just not true. When media deals with a character’s sexuality not being straight, it’s usually over sexualized or not acknowledged as anything sexual. Cat king gives that balance to his feelings for Charles. Because being gay is partly explicit. As is being straight, bi, pan, whatever (other than asexuality). Saying you are ___ sexuality is implying that you are sexually aroused by whatever gender(s). And cat king is that reminder while Charles and Monty are the reminder that love and relationships are also part of it. Cat king adds balance that makes Edwin’s character feel way more authentic and actually gay.

I haven’t even gotten to cat king pushing for Edwin to admit why he solves cases. WHY DOES NO ONE TALK ABOUT IT?!?! I was gnawing at the bars of my enclosure during that scene. It is arguably one of the most important scenes of the entire show. And it’s entirely brought on my cat king. Every single time Edwin either decides or is forced to reveal something vulnerable about himself, it’s Cat King!!!! Edwin’s confession that it is about preparing a justification as to how he should be allowed into heaven even though he is gay is such an insanely important moment and I’m gnawing at my enclosure again!!!

I may be studying history, but I’ve always been an English kid at heart and symbolism about religion and childhood trauma brings me to my knees. And Cat King is scratching an itch I’ve had for years that I had no clue was there anD NO ONE IS TALKING ABOUT IT WHILE IT IS DRIVING ME BANANAS.

Anyway, that’s my case for talking about cat king. I just finished episode 4 and it’s gonna be really embarrassing when something happens the next few episodes that completely invalidates all of this

#this is me doing a quick summary about my feelings btw #rae’s rambles #dead boy detectives

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withthewindinherfootsteps · 1 month ago

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Wei Wuxian and Narrative Agency – Part Two

For Xiantober Day Three: Conviction (of a sort)... in which the author temporarily forgets to focus on narrative agency or on Wei Wuxian, in favour of analysing relevant themes and characters that relate to Wei Wuxian. But he does get focus, and again, contextualising him is why i’m exploring these other things, so no harm done.

(Part One | Part Three | Full version on AO3)

It’s Not Just Optimism: Resentment and Self-Definition

Before we discuss the narrative again, let’s take a break to discuss one of my other favourite aspects of Wei Wuxian. We’ve seen how the narrative treats tragedy, and we’ll soon explore how it reflects Wei Wuxian’s views on tragedy. But what actually are these views?

Because the thing is – the narrative and plot can emphasise agency and choice all it likes, but focusing solely on that leaves out the character. And it’s Wei Wuxian’s character that deserves the credit for how he defines himself (…in-universe). If someone had gone through everything he had, who could blame them for being unable to keep going, unable to let go of resentment, unable to see anything that was still worth living for, to see any value in altruism?

(Also, I do have to emphasise this: you can have perfectly healthy coping mechanisms, but still get extremely traumatised. Everyone has a limit to what they can take, that limit differs, and that isn’t your fault. It just so happens that Wei Wuxian’s limit is extremely high (and even he reaches it when everything falls apart in such quick succession near the end of his first life!))

This isn’t something that’s ignored in MDZS. We see multiple characters who have gone through similar levels of suffering as Wei Wuxian, or even less suffering than him*, who do react in some of the ways mentioned above. Whether or not the narrative condemns them depends on if they hold onto resentment from their tragedies and use it to harm others – Xiao Xingchen and Qin Su, for example, aren’t condemned for their suicides (nor should they be, suicide/suicidal ideation isn’t anything anyone should be blamed for), because nobody was intentionally hurt as a result. But people like Xue Yang, who was treated cruelly and senselessly lost his finger, but went on to murder an entire clan as a result; or Jin Guangyao, who remembered the slights against him and his mother down to the exact wording of Jin Guangshan’s dismissal of her freedom, which may have justly hurt him but also unjustly lead him to both burn down a brothel and (separately) kill or imprison multiple innocent prostitutes; or Jiang Cheng, whose resentment for Wei Wuxian due to the latter’s actions lead him to harm many others after his death simply because they were similar**, are condemned.

Why mention this? Well, these different reactions show it isn’t just a quirk of the universe that people are more tolerant to pain – Wei Wuxian’s reactions are a deliberate choice on the part of MXTX, not a writing flaw stemming from misunderstanding the severity of trauma***. But more importantly, many of these characters deliberately foil Wei Wuxian, and so they can give us a good insight into what sets him apart from them (or rather, from the characters who aren’t completely broken by their pain, because that way we know it isn’t simply a difference in tolerance but rather one in attitude). And as I’ve discussed, this has to do with accepting events and letting them go, rather than holding onto resentment.

Part of this may come from differences in personality (though that’s never an excuse for hurting others) – but, though Jiang Yanli may claim Wei Wuxian was someone “born with a smiling look” (Chapter 24, EXR), there are two philosophies Wei Wuxian consciously holds onto that have to do with this attitude:

“Let the self judge the right and wrongs, let others decide whether to praise or blame, let gains and losses remain uncommented on.” Chapter 75, EXR translation

“Remember the things others do for you, not the things you do for others. Only when people don't hold so much in their hearts would they finally feel free.” Chapter 113, EXR translation

And crucially, these ideas directly contrast the actions and mindsets of the antagonists above. All three focus on their ‘gains and losses’, with their suffering at the hands of others being a major motive to harm those others/those affiliated with those others (Xue Yang’s finger; the slights against Jin Guangyao and his mother due to the latter’s job; Wei Wuxian’s ‘betrayal’ and his role in Jiang Yanli’s death, as well as false blame on him for the deaths of Jiang Cheng’s parents, and Jiang Cheng’s inferiority complex). Jin Guangyao and Jiang Cheng are also very focused on their reputation, or in other words, on whether ‘others decide (…) to praise or blame’ them (according to Chapter 10 of the EXR translation, in what seems to be omniscient POV heading into Jiang Cheng’s, the latter ‘cared about maintaining his reputation above anything else’. Meanwhile, much of Jin Guangyao’s actions were taken to protect his reputation, including the brothel burning, as a part of the aim was to conceal which brothel he grew up in (Chapter 104)).

Additionally, much of Jin Guangyao’s resentment stems from how others treat (‘blam[ing]’ him, insulting him), compared to how they treat others (‘prais[ing]’ them):

“But do you know what it was that made me lose hope completely? I’ll answer your first question now. It wasn’t that I’d never be worth a single hair on Jin ZiXuan or one of the holes in Jin ZiXun, it wasn’t that he took back Mo XuanYu, it wasn’t that he tried every possible way to make me a mere figurehead either. It was the truth he once told the maid beside me when he was out indulging himself again.” Chapter 105, EXR

Though the other points didn’t make him lose hope completely, the implication is that they did affect him too (as shown by how he speaks about them), with Jin Guangshan’s words about Meng Shi being the final straw. ‘Los[ing] hope’ here of course relates to holding onto resentment, as Jin Guangyao’s loss of hope is what led him to murder out of his hatred.

Finally, both Jin Guangyao and Jiang Cheng also hold resentment due to holding onto what they’ve done for others, or even onto who they themselves are, without being treated accordingly – and though it makes sense to be hurt by all these things and these reactions are valid, the pain from holding that in your heart and the danger from holding onto it is precisely why MDZS condemns it:

“Why is it that even if I face everyone with a smile, I might not even receive the lowest form of respect, while even though your father was extremely arrogant, people flocked to him? Could you tell me why we were born from the same person but your father could relax at home with the love of his life playing with his child, while I never even dared be alone for long with my wife, shivering out of fright at first glance of my son? And I was ordered to do such a thing by my father as if it was natural—to kill an extremely dangerous figure who could flip out and conjure up a bloody massacre with his corpses anytime! “Why is it that even though we were born on the same day, Jin GuangShan could host a grand banquet for one son, and watch with his own eyes how his subordinate kicked his other son down Koi Tower, from the first stair to the last!” Chapter 105, EXR

(He brings up his role in Wei Wuxian’s downfall due to this as well, in addition to creating any excuse he can to absolve himself of others’ blame – he’s being treated unjustly and hated for something he’s done, even though he was ordered to do that thing by his father and it made sense!)

Jiang Cheng, “Are you stupid? You only counted the time to return and not the time to go there? Let alone the fact that after I got there I had to lead people and search through the entire mountain for the old banyan tree, then dig open the hole that got blocked up by Wen Chao and his people, and rescue you within seven days. Where’s your gratitude?!” (…) He raised his voice, “You killed the Xuanwu of Slaughter together with Lan WangJi, bathing in blood! How great is that?! But what about me?!” He punched his fist into a pillar in the hall, clenching his teeth, “… I have also been running around for days, completely exhausted, with not one second of rest!” Chapter 56, EXR

(And, a bonus to show this being a part of Jiang Cheng’s mindset without stemming from being hurt by a specific event, even when he’s being encouraging:)

“So it seems that both of you killed it together. What’s yours is yours. Why would you give him all the credit?” Chapter 56, EXR

(This moment is a nice display of the contrast between Wei Wuxian’s and Jiang Cheng’s mindsets as well, with the former focusing on what Lan Wangji (‘others’) did for him instead of seeking credit for his role!)

To repeat – of course these feelings are understandable, and I’m not blaming them for feeling this way. What I am placing blame on is letting those feelings drive you to murder many innocent prostitutes, or to let this sense of a debt you’re owed (which is what the philosophy is actually warning away from, because if you hold onto what you do for others, the natural expectation is that they’re indebted to you and should do something for you as a result) turn into resentment towards someone for not acting the way you think they should, leading you to help murder them, even if your sister sacrificed herself specifically to save their life.

This is the danger of holding onto resentment. And are these actions not a choice? Would you, independent of MDZS, absolve someone of a crime because their ‘personality just leads them that way’?

The same is true for acting on these two philosophies, and letting resentment go. And it’s all the more impressive when someone has as much potential resentment to hold onto as Wei Wuxian does.

Of course, Wei Wuxian himself isn’t completely infallible – which further supports the idea that this isn’t just a natural, unalterable quirk, since we see him act contradictory to his usual self as well. But the narrative’s view of resentment in these moments doesn’t change. Importantly, the times he does let resentment drive what he’s doing, during the Sunshot Campaign and Nightless City (as well as him being quick to anger at Phoenix Mountain, etc), it isn’t presented as in the right**** — and though he still lets go of it quickly enough to protect a group related to the one that hurt him (people of the Wen sect, the cultivators who participated in the Siege), it doesn’t prevent the harm done during these times. Additionally, the times he metaphorically can’t control and reign in his resentment in the form of guidao – at Qiongqi Path and, again, at Nightless City – pain is caused to innocents (Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli). This is what his internal thoughts have to say when he comes across cultivators gossiping about him, shortly after Wen Qing and Wen Ning have sacrificed themselves:

No matter what he did, not a single good word would come out of these people’s mouths. When he won, others feared; when he lost, others rejoiced. Chapter 77, EXR

He’s hurt by other people praising and blaming him! Holding onto this philosophy isn’t automatic, that decision isn’t simply encoded within him somehow.

But that brings us to another relevant theme: that these characters aren’t infallible, because they’re not mythical creatures or concepts brought to life. Everyone is human.

However, although he thought that his heart was like a stone, in the end, he was still human, not some emotionless grass or plant. Chapter 8, EXR

OuYang ZiZhen, “HanGuang-Jun, why did Senior Wei collapse?” Lan WangJi, “Fatigue.” Lan JingYi was amazed, “I thought that Senior Wei would never get tired!” The other boys felt somewhat astonished as well. That the legendary YiLing Patriarch could collapse from fatigue from dealing with walking corpses—they all thought that the YiLing Patriarch should be able to settle them with just a snap of his fingers. However, Lan WangJi shook his head. He only said four words, “We are all human.” They were all human. How could a human be tireless? How could they stand forever? Chapter 84, EXR

Even with Wei Wuxian’s temperament, even with his attitude, he’s still human! Just as he’s not immune from being affected by harsh words to do with his past, just as he’s not immune from being affected by exhaustion, he’s not immune to being hurt by or angry at his circumstances. As we see in the Sunshot Campaign and at Nightless City, he’s not immune to dwelling on his misfortunes, to being driven by his hurt and anger and by resentment he holds onto (consciously! At Nightless City, Wei Wuxian deliberately accepts the curses thrown at him, because ‘anger was the only thing that could suppress the other feelings within his heart’ (Chapter 78)).

But nearly always, he chooses not to. The Wen remnants he saved were innocent, yes, and Wen Ning and Wen Qing helped him previously – but in his second life, he could’ve easily kept holding onto his resentment and left the cultivators who besieged him, who killed him and those under his protection, to die at the Second Siege. But he didn’t! He held true to his own philosophy, to judge the right and wrongs yourself independent of what others do, and saved them.

Because this is what’s important to him, because this is how he wishes to act in the present, and because he doesn’t let himself be defined by the tragedies he went through.

The donkey seemed as if it knew that he wasn’t in a great mood [due to others bringing up what happened in his past], and for once, it wasn’t being loud out of impatience. A moment of silence passed, and it turned around to leave. Wei WuXian sat by the stream, not responding at all. It turned around to look, throwing its hooves onto the ground, but Wei WuXian still paid no attention to it. The donkey had to come back sulkily, biting and tugging on the corner of Wei WuXian’s collar. He could choose to go, and he could choose to not go. Seeing that the donkey had [gone] as far as to use his mouth, Wei WuXian decided to follow him. Chapter 8, EXR*****

Immediately after this, he’ll continue investigating the puzzle of Dafan Mountain’s night hunt; he’ll come across a ghost, ask where it’s hurt and offer to take a look at it; he’ll rush off to save Jin Ling and the Lan juniors, figuring out the truth behind the dancing goddess and being the only one to do so. Just as it’s more important to the narrative, this – quick thinking, problem solving, compassion, doing the right thing, even seeking out excitement – is what Wei Wuxian finds more important about his own self, and what he chooses to focus on.

Some final questions to end things.

If you saw Wei Wuxian, without any knowledge of what happened in MDZS, without any work done by the narrative structure or by knowledge of tropes – would you have expected the backstory he had? Would you expect his parents to have died when he was at an age where he could barely remember them? Would you expect him to have lived on the streets until he was nine years old, or to have been taken into an unjust and extremely volatile household, or to have (chosen to) lose the source of powers he was very proud of – shortly before he was thrown, now powerless, into the equivalent of hell for three months? Would you expect his first life to have ended because protecting innocents (knowingly) led to the entire world crusading against him, because their siege resulted in him being torn apart? Or would you not think of tragedy when it comes to this person who gleefully jokes and teases, who’s so smart and competent and knows it, who doesn’t focus on the negatives, who acts so confidently on his morals, who revels in life so much?

If you only saw Wei Wuxian’s backstory with no context of his character, would you expect him to remain this way?

And, if you saw Wei Wuxian’s actions in the present day, without knowing what tragedies happened in his past, would he feel like an incomplete character?

It’s impossible to answer, of course – even in the present day, you get information about his past.

But I’m inclined to say no.

(Part One | Part Three | Full version on AO3)

—

*But again, let me emphasise – especially in real life, doing the trauma olympics is never good! As I said, everyone has limits, everyone’s limits differ, and just because one person can cope with something doesn’t mean another person can, even with the same mechanisms. And that shouldn’t lead to any judgement!

I say ‘especially in real life’ because in fiction, some characters’ experiences are often made similar or different to others’ in order to parallel or foil them – in which case comparison is often the point. But trauma olympics (‘this person suffered x amount so the other person should be able to take it!!’) is still bad, guys (especially since, as with MDZS, those parallels or foils are often there to explore the harm they do to others as a result, not simply how much trauma they can take).

**My thoughts on rumours here. Tl;dr, if Jin Ling (someone who’d want to defend him!) is saying he did (and that he “never let anyone go” – Chapter 24), if sources like Lan Wangji and Lan Sizhui act as if this is the case (Chapter 10 – to defend, you could say personal feelings play a role, but Lan Wangji especially is someone who knows not to, and explicitly doesn’t, make judgements without conclusive evidence. Again, see my thoughts on rumours) – and if Jiang Cheng backs up this behaviour (eg by telling Jin Ling to kill every demonic cultivator he sees and feed them to his dogs in his introduction – Chapter 7), it’s probably not a simple unbased rumour. There’s enough evidence to support its veracity.

***However, do note that Wei Wuxian isn’t an outlier, either – Lan Wangji, Wen Ning and Lan Sizhui (once he learns of his heritage) are all examples of other characters who aren’t overcome or twisted by their pain, instead still aiming to make the world a better place. And this is Jin Ling’s whole arc, too!

****I delve a lot more deeply into this here!

*****The role this moment plays isn’t actually something I caught myself – it came from a post about a reread of MDZS’ earlier chapters. I can’t find it myself, but if anybody has the link, that would be great (so I can cite it)!

—

Also, a shoutout to this incredible meta by @righteousinadversity – it’s what made me want to delve into this aspect two years ago! It’s still one of my favourite metas, and you enjoyed this, you’ll definitely enjoy that, too.

#yes i did gush a bit at the end but it’s *xiantober* it’s the wwx gushing month!#also re ‘antagonist’ and jc – i don’t want to get into discourse but there are two facts #1) an antagonist is someone who opposes or hinders the protagonists (regardless of their morality - eg L in death note is one)#2) jc is someone who does oppose and hinder the protagonists (capturing wwx in present day + being hostile to wangxian + besieging him in-#-his first life… and in his second life)#sure he isn’t one CONSISTENTLY (not throughout a lot of the flashbacks + during the second siege + in guanyin temple)#but that’s still a frequent role he PLAYS #regardless of how you think he should be presented or what you think he’s feeling – that’s the function his actions serve in the novel #anyway fic for day two will come but it’s still being worked on — i was in an analysis mood today so decided to do this first #mdzs meta #my meta #mdzs #wei wuxian #mo dao zu shi #魔道祖师 #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #gdc #jin guangyao #jiang cheng #(<- a little scared of this tag but he does feature a lot)#xiantober day 3 #this does admittedly feel less focused than the previous part but maybe i’ll rewrite it later

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cheeseyberg · 2 years ago

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Part 1 Part 2

Steve is annoyed. He's trying his hardest not to be but there it is, burning low in his throat as he bites back another bitchy comment that he would really love to let fly. He keeps reminding himself that they are kids, teenagers who have been stunted by trauma and may be a little immature in areas that don't involve fighting interdimensional beings. They deserve time spent ragging on each other and if they want to include him in the teasing then that really is proof that they accept him.

But he's not an idiot, just because he's a little bit slower than the nerds who he has adopted doesn't mean he's stupid. He takes the average amount of time to make connections, it's not his fault his friend's brains all run at the speed of a supercomputer.

"Henderson, I'm not going to tell you again, watch your tone dude!" Steve allows the half bitchy comment to land in a lull of conversation so all the brats hear it, "Besides, I haven't agreed to anything yet so I don't know why you're all arguing who gets stuck with me."

The whole thing had started with the opening of a new café in town. It was across from the arcade so naturally the kids clocked it immediately and had been anxiously awaiting the grand opening. Plans were made, funds were acquired, rides were begged for and the end result was that Steve, Eddie and Nancy shared babysitting duty on the opening day. It had been a pleasant day really, Steve was happy to have adults to talk to while the kids terrorized the new shop owners. This may have been where it started to go off the rails, he realizes now. Once the lovely couple had realized they had been invaded by baby geniuses they became enamored and in a clear bid to appease and possibly distract, the next time they had visited there were signs up announcing a weekly trivia night.

The problem was the team size limits. No more than six people to a team, and Erica had made it very clear that she would not be the odd man out because of her age. In fairness, the party hadn't even suggested it, they knew Erica was a force to be reckoned with and so the splitting into two teams had commenced and now she was a hot commodity that both teams wanted. Steve was having the opposite problem.

"Nobody is questioning your numerous good qualities Steve, I'm just saying that picking you first on my team isn't like a brilliant strategic move," Dustin stumbled over the words trying to make it clear that he wasn't wanted without putting his free rides in jeopardy.

"Enough! Nobody agreed that you got to be a team captain anyway and you're being a butthead. Here's how this is going to work, adults are the team captains," Eddie's edict was met with a flurry of protests from The Party yet he continued. "Complain all you want but the more whining I hear about it, the worse it is for your characters during the next campaign!"

That shut them up, Steve wondered what he had ever done before Eddie joined their family and had real leverage to hold over them to get them to behave. Gave in, was the answer but he preferred to ignore that part.

"I'm a captain and Steve's a captain-"

"Wooooow, why aren't Robin and Nancy the captains, you misogynist?!" Max was spending too much time with Robin in Steve's opinion.

"You're spending too much time with Robin, first of all. Secondly, Robin and Nancy aren't here so they forfeit the rights to team captain. As I was saying, Steve and I are captains and we will divide you as evenly as we can. Even with Robin and Nancy we still have an odd number so we'll have to split 6 and 5 to a team. Tomorrow at movie night we'll roll to see who gets more players and then we'll divide our teams with everyone present. What say you Stevie?" Eddie ended his proclamation by turning to look at Steve, who realized he was blushing a bit at having Eddie defend him to the assembly of assholes.

"Sounds good Eds," of course he was going to agree when it was Eddie asking. He turned back to the table in time to catch a raised eyebrow between Max and El but chose to ignore it. "And, as captain and procurer of the movies, I'm vetoing any horror movies so don't even try it!"

"Freddy's Revenge is finally out though! I thought we agreed to watch it!?" Eddie's protest was the loudest.

"A creepy burned dude who kills you in your mind dreams? No thanks, we absolutely did not agree to that and I'm vetoing it forever. Watch that shit with Robin, besides, it doesn't even have Johnny Depp in it so what's the point?" Steve catches another look between the girls but this time Erica joins in, he's not sure what caused it that time. Maybe the reference to Vecna was too much. "Come on guys, seriously, pick something happy for once."

"'Mind dreams' says the team captain," he catches Mike muttering under his breath and stares him down until he gets a half shrug which is as good as he can expect as an apology from the teen.

Part 2 Part 3

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #ficlet #Mike is being a little shit #Dustin needs to watch his tone

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johnwickb1tsch · 6 months ago

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Excessive Force : a Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE AMAAAZING @treedaddymcpuffpuff 😘😘😘) - Chapter FOURTEEN ---> (all chapters)

trigger warnings: mention of police shooting, child trafficking, past childhood trauma, abuse, etc. plz take care!

“Are you serious?!” You have to move the phone away from your ear to avoid a blown drum from Sheila’s screech.

“Yup.”

“Okay, why don’t you sound as excited as me?”

“I’m nervous. He’s really forward. And, I haven’t been on a date in forever.” That didn’t end horribly… You’ve decided not to count the fiasco with Julian. You’re in your room, fingering through the limited collection of nice clothes in your closet. You briefly debate wearing a turtleneck and thick linen pants just to piss him off. But, also, there’s that little sundress you bought at the mall that you’ve never gotten a chance to wear… The pretty, soft color would pair very nicely with your silky cream bra and panty set—that you also have never worn. You’re starting to re-think the whole not being a prude thing.

Plus, it’s hot outside.

Sheila pulls you from your search. “Listen, if he tries anything, just kick him in the dick. Works every time.”

“He’s like eight feet tall. I don’t know if I can reach his dick… with my feet.”

You both giggle.

“That’s why they make step stools.”

“Like, for that exact reason?”

Sheila’s one of those people that has proven to be supportive. You met her on a bus tour your first week in LA and have been buddies ever since. It works perfectly since you both have hectic work schedules and don’t really expect anything from the other one. She calls you for drinks, you call her for lunch. Sympatico.

“Obviously. So, he’s tall. Is he hot?”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth when you think back to his bare, bruised body on your exam table, those mile long, strong thighs that caged you in and felt more like they belonged to an Amazon Boa rather than a man.

“Okay, that silence either means hell yes or hell no, so which is it?” You hear the grin in Sheila’s voice.

“First one.”

You end up telling her about his persistent hospital visits, him pulling you over, maybe omitting some—okay, no, a lot of the details just so she doesn’t want to kill him just yet. You also haven’t told her about the Julian debacle–or that Tom basically rescued you.

You also leave out that he just happens to be the new superhero on every news channel right now. You’re still processing that yourself, and it’s not boding well for you keeping your cool with this man.

As it turned out, it was the news that informed you of Officer Tom Ludlow’s whereabouts those lonely night’s you’d missed him harassing you on that lonely stretch of highway. He wasn’t ignoring you. He was rescuing two teenage girls who had been kidnapped and trafficked by a gang. According to the report, Ludlow had entered the house after hearing a cry for help, alone, and gunned down every single one of the gangbangers before setting the girls free.

Parts of this story should have alarmed you, but there had been a time in your past when you would have given anything for a person of authority to ride to your rescue, red tape be damned. How many times had the cops come to your house for a domestic disturbance between your parents, and left you in a bad situation because of some legal technicality or another? How had they seen you, scared and dirty, cowering in the doorway, and left you behind? The horrors you could have told them, if only they’d cared to ask without your parents there to overhear and threaten you, but every time until the last time, they’d just left you in the hellhole that had been your childhood home.

How different your life—your sister’s lives—would have been if you had a Thomas Ludlow back then.

The twin girls’ MISSING posters and billboards were all over the city. Most anyone with the power to do something had given up on them as a lost cause, just another sad story, written them off as tragically probably dead in a gutter, but not Ludlow. Ludlow had risked his neck (and possibly his badge, because you’d heard of the old “I heard a cry for help” trick to gain entry, and it was almost always code for “I didn’t have a warrant, what are you going to do about it?”, to get them out, and goddammit if that didn’t just warm you to your toes and soften your heart.

Worse yet, you feel like the biggest asshole for calling him a fraud, to his face, the night after it all went down. He’d just taken it on the chin, and he still asked you out.

Ok, he technically extorted you, but it just doesn’t feel as sinister now as it had last night. He’d been bold, and borderline needy for some human tenderness, and fuck if you didn’t understand all too well why now.

Now, rather than having to keep yourself from tearing him a new one, you were afraid you were going to have to restrain yourself from crawling into his lap at the first opportunity, and fucking his brains out for being such a goddamed hero.

“Oh, he’s a freak!” Despite saying this, she sounds like she’s twirling her hair and kicking her feet.

You snort. “He’s got..uh…nice hands.”

You decide on the sundress and the bra-panty set, but you don’t bother laying them out in preparation, because you’re still telling yourself that this isn’t that big of a deal and you’re not that invested and that if Tom Ludlow kisses you, you won’t burst into flames.

You want to take a bath, leave some scent of those seldom used lavender lemon oils lingering on your skin, but decide against it.

No. Actually. You’re doing it. Taking a nice, warm, spiced soak, rubbing lotion over every piece of you except the very sensitive bits, shimmying into the undergarments. The panties end up being cheekier than you like, but your butt looks cute, and the dress covers everything pretty good, anyway—well, everything that matters.

After putting your hair up in a messy bun and throwing some mascara on, you’re ready for—actually, who the fuck are you kidding, you are the opposite of ready. Borderline panicking at the thought of this man coming to pick you up and taking you out and putting on his lewd charm and ruining this cute underwear.

By the time he buzzes downstairs, it’s too late to decide on another pair of shoes. You have to live with sandals—with the fact that he might just look down and get a full, unfiltered view of your toes curling when he opens his pretty mouth.

You’re totally fucked, here.

You think it again when you open the door, finding his lean form all in black, leaning on the wall with his hands in his pockets and his full bottom lip between his teeth, like he’s already thinking about eating you up. You literally feel it as his eyes look you up and down, from your messy bun to your pink painted toes. It’s been two seconds, and already you are soaked between your thighs.

Doomed. You are just fucking doomed, and a part of you is just ready to surrender, because it takes so much goddamn energy to fight your attraction to this man. You can feel it like live electricity crackling over your skin.

Of course, there’s that other part of you that wants to run right back up those stairs and lock yourself away from this gorgeous devil.

“Hey, beautiful.”

Your mouth opens to reply, but your brain takes a few seconds to catch up, utterly short circuited by how ridiculously handsome he is in his black button down, his dark pants belted low on his hips, those big feet in black boots. It’s a little strange, seeing him without his badge or his gun on his hip–but you can work with this.

“Hi,” you answer, scathingly clever as ever.

“Ready to go?”

You’d brought down your purse, to avoid inviting him into the private sanctuary that is your little shoebox of an apartment, but now you almost regret it.

“Yeah. Where are we going?” You step out the door, but he doesn’t move back, relishing your close proximity with a smirk. But there is a new softness in his brown eyes as he looks down at you that makes you a little weak in your knees. He reaches up to touch your cheek, feather light, and it boggles your mind how this man can be such a beast, and yet so gentle when he wants to be.

“You’ll see.” You narrow your eyes at him, but for once, it’s more playful than fueled by annoyance. “Relax,” he says, his shapely mouth dancing as he suppresses a smile. “You’re in good hands, honey.”

You don’t even flinch, as he drives this final nail into your coffin, the wave of desire inspired by the thought of those oh-so-capable hands and what they just might do to you tonight buzzing down your spine. This is how you die–you are strangely, almost, ok with it.

When he has you safely ensconced in the passenger seat of his sleek black Charger you look over at him, his long arm draped over the wheel as he navigates the hostile environment of LA traffic like a shark patrolling a reef. “So…I saw you on the news last night.”

He lifts one of those dark brows, though his expression remains otherwise unreadable. “Haven’t really looked at what they’re saying,” he admits, like he’s used to the media getting the details wrong towards their own ends.

“They said that you saved two underaged girls that were being traffiked?”

His mouth turns down, and you wonder if you’ve killed the happy vibe of the evening so soon with your nosy questions. But then again–you need to know. It’s a gnawing curiosity in your gut not just for the events that transpired, but the man who orchestrated them. Who you are currently alone in a car with, so you reason you have a right to know.

“Yeah,” he simply answers, not keen to crow his own praises.

“And you…killed all those guys?”

He gives a sigh that seems to come from the bottom of his soul. You sense a weariness in him that he’s never shown on the outside before.

“Yeah.” A long silence draws out between you, before he adds, “They were very bad dudes, y/n. Please don’t be afraid of me.”

You can’t exactly say that you’re not–but ironically, the news of him shooting down those gangsters really has nothing to do with it.

“I’m not. I mean–if they were abusing those girls, then they deserved it.”

He looks you over then, an appraising look as though you’ve given him some new information about your character. Maybe information you didn’t exactly mean to give away, but it’s out there now. He’s going think you’re a kindred spirit–or a blood thirsty gremlin.

Either way, you don’t really want to discuss why you sympathize with those girls, and with him.

“Are you okay?”

This question seems to take him aback, like he truly wasn’t expecting it. He’s surely used to being a pillar of stoic manhood, but you know this shit takes its toll. “Yeah. I’m fine, sweetheart. Thanks.”

You eye his hand resting on the center console, and a part of you very badly wants to reach out to him and take it. Almost as though he can sense it, or maybe because he wants it as badly as you do, he holds out his hand palm up in invitation. It’s possible you stare at that hand for a beat too long, his wide calloused palm and long blunt fingers. Long enough that he tries to play it off, starting to take it back, before you quickly lace your fingers with his. The way he smiles to himself sends warmth blooming all the way to your toes, and you’re glad he’s driving because they do, indeed, curl in your sandals.

You give him a little squeeze, relishing the way your hand feels so tiny and protected in his own, and say, genuinely, “I’m sorry. For calling you a fake cop.”

He clicks his tongue. “I’ve heard worse from people that aren’t half as pretty as you.”

You want to fight with him on that—scoff, roll your eyes—but you just can’t, because as much as that small, whiny part of your brain tells you he’s lying, the bigger, rational part absolutely knows just by the sincerity in his tone that he thinks you really are a pretty, sublime creature.

“But I still kinda think you’re a jerk,” you half tease.

“Mmmm, what happened to that feisty little thing I know? She change into a cute sundress and suddenly become sweet?”

You are loathe to admit the real reason for your change of heart.

“You wish.”

He chuckles. “Bet I can make you sweet.”

You’re a total idiot for what comes out of your mouth, and your underwear is the one that will more than likely end up paying for this mindless insolence. “How?”

He brings your hand up to his mouth, lips brushing over the thin skin of your knuckles, sending a spear of desire through your arm and into the rest of your body. You make a tiny choked noise when his tongue peeks a taste of your skin, going unfocused and fuzzy, radio static and full throttle cavewoman.

He kisses the center of your hand, then murmurs, “With sugar, silly girl.”

It's not only the panties that pay a high price, but also your throbbing heart, pleasantly tense and hot and full of desire.

He must find your slack jaw and blank stare immensely entertaining, because he’s laughing low and soft, rumbling in delight.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“I’m fine.” There has never been a more heinous lie uttered in this entire state.

You’re fairly new to LA, but you soon realize from your surroundings that he’s taking you to the Santa Monica Pier.

You are thanking the universe and the gods when you arrive at your destination. Five more minutes—hell, seconds—trapped in that car with him and you would have climbed into his lap and started barking.

When he swings into a parking space designated just for Law Enforcement you turn to him with a lifted brow, as though to say, Abuse your authority much?

But you already know the answer to that. This date is a product of it. And so far…it’s not so bad.

“Do you like fish tacos?” He asks, keeping your hand and massaging that bulky thumb over your wrist.

“Shouldn’t you have asked that before you made a reservation?” you taunt him.

“No reservation,” he informs you with a quirk of his mouth. “But the manager owes me a favor.”

He waves around the busy avenue and beach walk bustling with people, peppered with colorful shops and restaurants of every kind. “Pretty sure we can find you something you like, if Mexican food with an ocean view isn’t your thing…” He says it with a smirk, and you’re seriously not sure if you want to kiss this man or smack him. Maybe both, but save it for later, sings out the little devil on your shoulder before you can tell it to shut the fuck up.

Good lord.

You’ve heard of the restaurant–and that it’s famously hard to get into. You wonder if his connection is a product of a favor for a good deed, or a bit of blackmail. Maybe a little bit of both. You’re finding more and more that it’s hard to put this man in a single box.

“Honestly…?” You make him wait for it, and you can tell your effort to put this confident man on the spot only half succeeds, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth. “That sounds pretty amazing.”

This evil, evil gentleman. He opens your door for you, helps you out of the car, stands patiently while you fix your dress, only half looks at your exposed thighs before you pull the hem down and cover them up again.

Then, he threads his arm with yours and leads you onto the pier. You can’t believe you’ve never taken the initiative to come here before. It’s beautiful, lit up like a modern carnival of neon lights.

“Oh, can we go on the Ferris wheel?” You ask, looking up at him.

“Let’s get some food in you, and then we can do whatever you want.” He really needs to stop being so…caring. It’s seriously starting to mess up your insides.

You turn into a fascinated kid as you walk down the salt coated slice of wood built out over the ocean, looking this and that way, pointing things out, mentioning possible after-dinner activities. You feel like you’re getting annoying, but Tom just seems amused by your sunburned tourist behavior.

You pass by a little shooting booth with huge stuffed bunnies hanging from the rack, and he must see the way you’re ogling them, so he leans down close to your ear. “I could win you one of those?”

You grin back up at him. “I can win you one.”

“Oh? Little sharpshooter?”

It sounds like he doesn’t believe you, so you stick your tongue out at him between smiling lips.

He pokes your forehead in retaliation. “Anybody ever tell you how fucking cute you are?”

The restaurant lives up to its popularity and then some. It takes a while to get here, but you just know it’s worth every foot blister when they sit you down and immediately serve a popped bottle of iced sparkling water and delicious, warm salsa and chips.

You made it just in time to catch the purple orange sun sinking below ocean level, and the front row seats really just make the view that much more spectacular. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if a dolphin jumped from the water, illuminated by the dying sun, just like in the movies.

“This is… amazing.” You grab some tortilla chips to munch on while he pours you both glasses of the fancy water. “Have you ever been here before?”

“Once.” He doesn’t elaborate, so you don’t want to push the issue, but you can tell there’s some kind of ache behind that simple word.

“Okay, so you’re obviously not from LA—where are you from?” He leans over the table a bit, curious.

“Kansas.”

He opens his mouth, but you stop him because you already know what he’s going to say.

“Don’t do it.” You point a warning finger at him, giggling like an idiot.

“God, but I really want to,” he groans.

“So,” you say, taking another bite of chip. “Why did you become a cop?”

“You start with the heavy questions, huh?” he teases you. “Thought I was the one who was trained in interrogation?”

You suppose he’s right, considering your earlier line of inquiry in the car. But you shrug in response. Considering how you ended up here, you see no reason to tiptoe around things. “Just curious.”

He offers up an easy smile, letting you know you didn’t offend him. “Well, I actually always wanted to be a dentist.”

You snort with disbelief, trying to imagine this man’s bedside manner. But then, dentists do get to cause people a lot of pain… “Ok. Maybe that tracks.”

“I’m fucking with you,” he informs you with a smirk.

You do your best to appear annoyed, and fear you fail at it badly. “Guess it’s not hard to imagine you pulling teeth, is all.”

He huffs at that. “I always wanted to be a cop, since I was a kid. My old man was a detective. Killed in the line of duty. I guess I felt like I needed to pick up his unfinished business.”

You blink at that. You and your big fucking mouth. “I’m sorry,” you say, reaching for his hand across the table. He curls his fingers with yours, playing with your aqua painted fingernails with his thumb.

“It’s alright. Happened a long time ago.”

“How old were you?”

“Eleven.”

You squeeze his hand in yours, saying nothing.

“What about you? What made you want to be a nurse?”

You don’t really feel comfortable enough to tell him your whole coming-of-nurse story, so you give him the cut version: “when I was young and felt like I had no one, a nurse comforted me.”

“How young?”

“Ten.”

He winces. “Maybe I’ll get the full version of that story one day?”

There’s an epiphany, here, in this little restaurant with the comfy blue chairs, and it’s that Tom Ludlow scares you because he makes you feel something deep, deep inside your chest that you can’t even remember being there before he came along. Julian was easy, child’s play; although it stings, you’re writing him down as just another failed fling. You know if Ludlow gets his hands on your little sensitive heart, it will be a very different story.

You take a big drink of water to wash down the salty crunch. “Sorry.”

“For?”

“Being so…cold.”

He chuckles. “Oh, you are so cold. Gonna have to make it up to me.”

Warmth floods the top layers of your skin. “I already said I’d win you the bunny.”

You’re amazed at how easily he can transition back into a smooth, carnal beast. “I don’t know if that’s enough for me to forgive you.” The fake hurt in his tone should not make you squirm in your seat.

You bite like a dumb, good little fish should: “okay, then, how do I make it up to you, Officer Ludlow?”

You’re hoping to faze him with the sultry innocence of your tone, but it just fuels his devilish aura instead. “We can start with me turning you over my knee.”

You don’t have a retort, but your vagina absolutely does, and she gets you squirming in your seat.

He leans forward, knowing smile sure to be your undoing one way or another. “Would you like that?”

“Thought you didn’t want to hurt me?” You challenge, trying to keep cool despite the blazing Ludlow heat.

“Who says spanking has to hurt? Dr. Bitch?”

You can’t help the giggle that rolls out of you, and he seems to find it entertaining that you have to cover your mouth to hide it. “No, Tom, believe it or not, I am a grown woman who has lived an experienced life.”

“And how was it?”

You tilt your head. “What?”

“You know, when you asked one of your vanilla boyfriends to swat that gorgeous, plump ass a little bit? Just to see how it would feel.” He leans his chin on his palm, listening intently for your answer, and you think you might be on your way to spontaneous combustion.

How in the fuck can he just hit the nail right on the head like that? Know about parts of your life that you haven’t shared with anyone—not that there were many to share with. Are you really this readable?

Once again, he has your sharp tongue dulled with arousal and embarrassment, and you shift in the chair. “He did it, like, once and then stopped.”

“And did you like it?” He presses.

“Yes.”

He takes a little sip of his water, raising both dark brows over the glass at you. “Good to know.”

Tom recommends the margaritas and fish tacos, so you let him order for the both of you while admiring the view. You can’t decide which one you like better, his handsome face or the ocean scape.

As you are finishing your delicious dinner the last rays of the sunset are putting on a five star show for you, the sky painted that impossible deep blue and purple, the water shimmering like color-changing opals.

“It’s so beautiful here,” you sigh, and you catch him looking at you out of the corner of your eye with a softness you haven’t seen from him before. You get up the courage to meet his eyes, and he smiles at you, but for once not like he intends to eat you.

“You’re not in Kansas anymore, sweetheart.”

“Goddammit.”

He laughs at that, a real belly laugh that makes you warm all over even without the aid of your two nursed margaritas. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah. I’ve got to out shoot you for that little bunny now.”

This wins you more genuine laughter. “Alright, Annie Oakley. Lead the way.”

#tom ludlow #street kings #tom ludlow x you #excessive force street kings fic #tom ludlow x reader #tom ludlow x y/n #keanu reeves #keanuverse #keanuverse fic #julian mercer x reader #julian mercer x you #keanu reeves x you

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toggle1-mrfipp · 6 days ago

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Chapter 182 I think is one of my favorite chapters in all of P2 because it does such a fantastic job with each of the three characters.

First, Yoru. I've said it before, but I love how this last arc has been for Yoru, giving her an emotional depths that she never had before, and showcasing just how unprepared and ill-equipped to deal with said emotions she really is. I've seen people saying that she's only trying to manipulate Denji and Asa, but I don't think that's the case: Makima spent the better part of a year manipulating varying governments around the world to turn Denji into Pochita, but Yoru can't go a single date without trying to turn him into a weapon. She is impulsive, spontaneous, immature, she acts purely on instinct, and we see just how wild she can be. In only a few chapters she goes from trying to blow his head off, to trying to beat shit out of him, to kissing him because she thinks he's cute and genuinely trying to motivate him to keep on moving. She's flying by the seat of her pants with no clue what she's doing, a complete loss of control on her part. A few chapters ago she was the embodiment of the fear of war who just killed possibly hundreds of people, and now she she can't look at the guy she just kissed like the tsundere she is. And to loop it back to her "I got over it line" and how unture that has to be. Her powers are fueled by guilt, the more guilt she feels in something's destruction the more powerful it is, and considering the sheer scale of destruction her Gun Devil Arm brought, the guilt she had in killing the Gun Devil, her self-proclaimed child, must be immense, but she says she "got over it", and I don't believe her.

Next, Asa. She is someone who has a lot of negative traits, and a lot of time they tend to overshadow her good trait. She is selfish, she is more concerned with looking like a good and moral person instead of actually being one, and her entire role in the Church was her ignoring any and all red flags, no matter how obvious they were, because she was obsessed with being a micro-celebrity, because she wanted to play out the fantasy of being Chainsaw Man's hero, to give her life meaning and to justify her own existence. At the core of all of that however, Asa does genuinely want to do good, she does want to help the people she feels that are important to her, and her trying to relate and comfort Denji was one of the few times that people had one something like that for him, one of the few she's gone out of her way to comfort someone, She was at her lowest, but he saved her, so she wanted to return the favor inn a way she thought would help, she just got caught up her own head along the way. Her speech at the end then made me realize something, that while it's been alluded to a few times, such as her death and the Falling Devil attack Asa has never actually vocalized what it is she actually wants, and it leaves me wondering what she was going to tell Denji before he threw up the Snow Devil.

And finally Denji. When to comes to trauma Denji shuts down and he distances himself from his problems; KIll his dad in self-defense? Hide those memories. Reze tells him that the life he lived wasn't good? Change the subject. Sad that Reze never showed up? Hey look it's Miss Makima! Killed Aki? Time to be a dog and not think again. Power's dead? Time to die. Can't date Asa? Time to fight a super big devil for the fans! I half-expected Denji to just lie there and take whatever Yoru was about to do to him, but instead he pushed her off of him, he resisted someone who was using sex against him, something he and never done, and it's clear that he is reaching his limit with Asa/Yoru and how he has gotten nothing but mixed signals from them. I really do feel like we're getting so much closer to him learning the truth about them. And then there is the end! Denji does not think about his trauma, he pushes it to the side so he does not have to think about it, we saw this with the Falling Devil attack where to not think about Aki and Power's death, he slices his brain up. I do not think that he has given either of them too much thought since the end of P1 because all he can think about is their deaths and the "role" he was forced into regarding them. But the snow made him think of them and that trip to Aki's family grave, it was a trip they had fun on, the last time they were all together before things turned out the way they did. Those were good and pleasant memories he had of Aki and Power, of the family they had with one another, and him reflecting on them is good. Aki said it himself on that trip, that he didn't think about the bad stuff because he had Denji and Power around, and while I feel like we're only just getting started with how messy this process will be for Denji, I do think this might be a good first step for healing for Denji.

Denji, Asa and Yoru each displayed amazing characterization in 182, and I can't wait to see where this will lead the three of them.

#chainsaw man #denji #asa mitaka #yoru #war devil #csm 182

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ladykailitha · 2 years ago

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Can Anybody See Me? Part 9

Just moving right along with these. Here I introduce two new people to befriend Steve. Because I like Steve having friends his own age that he hasn’t trauma bonded to. Starting tomorrow I’ll be putting up a little plot bunny that got away from me but have no fear, this one will return.

On the tagging, I HAVE REACHED MY HARD AND FAST LIMIT OF 50. I love the response this story has gotten. I do. I love you all. I love every reply, like, and reblog. It brings me so much joy, you don’t even know. But tagging is hard for my ADHD brain. I have gone up from 20 to 30 and finally 50 as my system improved but I think if I do any more than that I’ll go insane. So any future tagging requests will be ignored. Sorry.

The best way to keep update on these stories is follow me and set me on notifications. I rarely do a lot of reblogging these days (too busy churning out stories like whoa), so more often then not a post will be a story. I try to post at least once a day (some times twice if I’m trying to rush through the posting a bit like I did to make sure the Valentine fic got out in time without making people wait on Vamp!Eddie), just never at set time.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8

Steve was biting his nail as he waited his turn at the back of the crowd to see if he had made it.

“Ain’t doing it for this time, big boy,” Eddie told him. “I will stay for emotional support though.”

Steve gave Eddie’s arm a squeeze. “Thanks, man. I’m just so nervous.”

Finally they got to the front of the line and Steve’s finger slid down the list and next Thompson was Steve Harrington.

“I got it!” he said jumping up and down. “I got it!” He hugged Eddie.

And Eddie gave him a small tap on the back in return.

“We need to celebrate!” Steve said. “I’m taking everyone out to dinner.”

Eddie laughed. “The whole school, huh? Man, I knew you were rich, but that’s a lot.”

Steve playfully shoved at him. “Noooo...I mean you and the rest of Corroded Coffin. If it wasn’t for you guys I wouldn’t have ever tried out and I want to thank everyone.”

“Sounds great, pretty boy,” Eddie said. He turned Steve around and pushed him toward his first class. “Now go, before you’re late.”

Steve laughed and started walking. He looked over his shoulder and smiled softly.

Butterflies took off in his stomach looking at Eddie. He shook his head and went to class. That was another thought for another time. If he was going to graduate, he couldn’t be late.

Eddie went to go pick Steve for the celebration dinner but when he pulled up to the house there was a shiny silver BMW in the driveway and the front door was open.

Shit, shit, shit.

He wasn’t going to back out now. Steve needed him. He got out of the van and skipped up to the door.

He knocked on the door frame and an elegant woman in her early forties came out of one of the side rooms.

“Who are you?” she asked, taking in his band tee and ripped black jeans with a sneer.

He held out his hand. “Edward Munson, ma’am. Steve and I are in math together.”

Just then Steve came out of his room with his dad. Mr Harrington looked thunderous and Steve more than a little frightened.

“Eddie!” Steve called out.

“What’s all this then?” Mr Harrington boomed.

“Stevie and I are doing a project in math,” Eddie explained with a grin. “Mr Vinke assigned pairs to research noted mathematicians. We picked Gosta Mittag-Leffler, the dude that is the reason the Noble prizes don’t have a math award.”

Mrs Harrington turned to her son. “Couldn’t you have worked with any of your friends?”

Steve blushed.

“It’s just Tommy and Carol in that class and since they wanted to work together, Mr Vinke put me with Eddie.”

“Can’t be helped, I suppose,” Mr Harrington said gruffly.

“I’m here to pick him up to go to the library,” Eddie explained. “But we can do it tomorrow if you’re busy?”

Steve looked to his parents, in half agony and half hope. Agony because he did want to go celebrate with his friends. Hope because even if he couldn’t do it tonight, at least he would be able to see his parents and tell them all about his good news.

“It’s fine,” Mrs Harrington said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “We’re only stopping by for a couple hours anyway. I wanted to get some of my nicer jewelry and don’t trust the mail system to get it to me intact or at all.”

Steve’s face fell. “You aren’t staying?”

“Big meeting in Chicago tomorrow morning with some very important Japanese investors,” Mr Harrington boomed, pounding Steve on the back. “Can’t be missed.”

Steve nodded. “I’ll just go get my school bag.” He ran back into his room and grabbed his things. He was back out in a flash. Steve squeezed past his dad and thundered down the stairs. He gave his mother a kiss on the cheek.

“You ready to go?” Eddie asked softly.

Steve nodded.

Eddie waved at the Harringtons. “It was nice meeting you both.”

As they walked to the van they heard Mrs Harrington say, “Well, at least he’s a polite boy.”

“I didn’t know manners were taught to trailer trash,” Mr Harrington replied with a guffaw.

Eddie winced and Steve gave his elbow a squeeze. Once the were in the van and pulling out of the drive way, both boys relaxed.

“I’m sorry about that, man,” Steve said. “They literally came home ten minutes before you got there. I tried calling but Wayne said you had already left.”

Eddie turned and looked at him. “Hey, it’s okay. Because at least this way it wouldn’t leave me and the boys hanging at the diner wondering where you are.”

Steve blushed. “It was still rude of them. They didn’t tell me they were coming home and then to just dash off like I didn’t exist. Even I can tell that this is an aesthetic that is carefully, artfully done.” He waved at Eddie’s look.

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Yeah? What makes you think that?”

“The shoes,” Steve explained. “They are too white and too new to be trash.”

Eddie grinned. “Look at you, being all observant.”

Steve just shook his head. “It’s not rocket science, dude.”

“No, but it is Sherlockian,” Eddie said.

Steve laughed. “Fair enough.”

They arrived at the diner to see that in addition to Jeff, Gareth, and Brian, Gethin and someone he didn’t know was there, too.

“Hey, guys,” Eddie greeted.

The new boy was a shocking curly-haired redhead with more freckles then hairs on his head.

“Hey, Steve! Eddie!” Jeff greeted. “This is Marty. He’s part of Hellfire Club, too. He’s a senior this year, so we’ll miss him next year.”

Steve waved. Eddie slid into the booth and Steve next to him.

“I wanted to celebrate Kyle not getting the role,” Marty said with a grin.

Steve eyed the new boy with new appreciation.

Eddie’s grin was feral. “In addition to Marty being in the club, he’s head of stage crew.”

“And assistant director this year,” Marty added with a grin.

“Ooh...” Gethin said. “Many hats this year.”

“Yeah,” Marty said. “It’s going to be hectic. I can’t wait.”

Steve grinned. Marty reminded him of Dustin a lot. “I’ve gotta ask. Why didn’t you want Kyle to be Thomson?”

“Because he cheated on the first audition,” Marty deadpanned.

All eyes went to Marty as they stared at him in shock.

“How?” Brian asked.

“He recorded a perfect version of himself singing and lipsynced with the Walkman in his pocket,” Marty explained.

“So how come he didn’t do it again?” Eddie asked.

Marty pulled something out his pocket. It was a small cassette tape. He waved it back and forth with a smirk.

“I may or may not have removed the tape just before he went on.”

Steve laughed. “I think you’re my new favorite person.”

Eddie clutched his chest. “I’m wounded, Stevie. So wounded that I am no longer your favorite person.”

“All right, all right,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “Marty is my second favorite.”

“But I’m the one that destroyed your art project!” Gethin protested.

“Tied for second then,” Steve amended.

Suddenly the other boys were fighting over being his third favorite. Or fourth. There was some debate over that.

They only stopped when it came time to order.

Once they all got their drinks, Eddie held his up. “To Steve!”

“To Steve!” everyone else parroted back.

“Thanks, guys!” Steve said, blushing.

It was very late when Eddie pulled up to the now empty and darkened house.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve murmured. “That was fun.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “Just let me know if you need a fake report to show your parents.”

Steve laughed. “I don’t think they’ve looked at so much as my report card since seventh grade. I think I’m good, man.”

Eddie just shook his head. “See you tomorrow, Stevie.”

“Good night, Eds,” Steve whispered. He got out the car and waved good night.

Eddie waved back and waited until Steve was inside, before his eyes slipped shut.

He was in so much trouble. It had been so long since Eddie had a crush on anyone that he forgot what the warning signs were.

Wanting to spend every minute of every day with them. Check.

Wanting to do things for them all the time. Check.

The warm fuzzy feeling in his chest whenever he saw them. Check.

Wanting to be even more outrageous to catch their eye. Check.

Being jealous of other people spending time with them. Triple check.

Fuck.

When Steve had said that Marty was his new favorite person, Eddie’s own personal green-eyed monster began hissing in his ear. It immediately went running when Steve amended his statement, though.

Which was something Eddie should examine more closely. But if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t want to. In case the answer wasn’t the one he wanted.

Eddie was a little bit furious with himself. Steve was a known ladies’ man. like besides his hair, it’s what he was famous for. So unless Steve was secretly a Rock Hudson or Rupert Everett then Eddie was screwed. Crushing on straight boys was a death sentence to any gay man. But especially when that was all that was available in Bumfuck, Indiana.

He pulled out the driveway trying to come up with ways to break his crush on Steve without breaking their friendship.

By the time he got home he was no closer to an answer than he was at Steve’s.

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

@shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites @garden-of-gay @anaibis @thing-a-ling @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @artiststarme @sundead @nelotegreitic @gregre369 @butterflysandpeppermint @thedragonsaunt @kodaik97 @messrs-weasley @scarletzgo @deadlydodos @renaissan-vvitch @evix-syne666 @emly03 @justforthedead89 @ashwinmeird @huniibee @phantypurple @stevesbipanic @shucks-yuckyuck @awkwardgravity1 @bookbinderbitch @reportinglivefromsoda @chasinggeese @be-the-spark-bitch @jinxjinn @kohlraedirectioner @cr0w-culture @xjessicafaithx @whimsicalwitchm @jaywhohasthegay @dangdirtydemons @lovelyscot @howincrediblysapphicofyou @the-redthread

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #canon divergence #the boy with the bat #ladykailtiha writes

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