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greenfiend · 2 months ago

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Lonnie Byers

why he is far more significant in Stranger Things than we are led to believe...

“The scariest monsters are human beings and what we will do to each other.”

This post is very much inspired by @/kaypeace21's post on Lonnie from 2021. Just so you guys know, kaypeace21 theorized Byler LONG before most of us. She has a pretty good track record for predicting aspects of Stranger Things. This post will include some of her brilliant finds and will add even more evidence that was introduced to us in ST4 and TFS.

Warning: this post discusses some VERY dark and mature themes. I will allude to dark stuff at first but will leave the darkest stuff below the cut.

CW: Ab*se, CSA, substance use, DV...

The name Lonnie (nickname of Lawrence/Laurence) has two specific relevant meanings:

Lion and Oak tree. x

(Some symbolism examples: Nancy compares the Demogorgon (also titled: Deep Father) to a lion in ST1. In ST3, Holly notices trees (what looks like oak trees...) and looks frightened.)

For every mention of trees and predatory cats/lions I will add 🌳and 🦁 emojis respectively.

Keep both of these in mind as both predatory animals/cats and (creepy) trees are common occurrences within Stranger Things. I will touch on both of these throughout the post.

Anyway, lets start with the surface level stuff we know then I'll touch more on the darker subtext.

So, who is Lonnie Byers?

When we first hear the name Lonnie, he is brought up as a potential suspect by Hopper in Will's disappearance.

Joyce is quick to dismiss him as a suspect but does give us some important information about his character:

Lonnie "used to say [Will] was queer. Called him a fag." Whether or not he would say this to Will's face... he's obviously, not a great guy or father.

Joyce and Lonnie are divorced. She hadn't heard from him in about a year.

He doesn't like cops.

In The First Shadow, we actually learn that this is not the first time Lonnie is seen as a suspect in a case. (spoilers in next paragraph)

Lonnie was mistaken for Victor Creel and he was investigated for the animal murders by Hopper. This was not just a random choice, remember, Lonnie's name means Lion as in the predatory animal 🦁. Jonathan also told us that Lonnie made him hunt rabbits. This is a major hint! So, Victor Creel is innocent, and near the end of the play, Henry tells Joyce that she's so close yet so far from the truth (I'm paraphrasing). He's absolutely right though, the truth was right under her nose but unfortunately she doesn't see it (yet).

The fact that they made a very obvious comparison of Lonnie Byers to Victor Creel, the suspected murderer of his entire family... lets just say... it tells us A LOT.

Anyway, back to learning about Lonnie in season 1.

Joyce tries to reach out to Lonnie about Will, but is unsuccessful. He doesn't pick up the phone. His girlfriend does and says he's unavailable.

In a flashback, we hear Joyce and Lonnie argue about Lonnie not coming to play baseball with Will. She says she's "so sick of [his] excuses" which obviously means he has frequently made false promises/let Will down. He obviously does not prioritize Will.

To further prove that point, we later literally see him close Will off as he hammers wood right in the entry way for Will to return. The comic about Will's time in the UD gives a heartbreaking look into Will's POV. He cries to his father to not shut him out, but Lonnie ignores Will's cries...

Paralleling El's flashback to when Papa locked her in the dark room and ignored her cries... (the existence of that scene and many other flashbacks with El and Papa make me strongly believe that El's memories of Papa are altered version of Will's memories of Lonnie... I won't go into that much though in this post).

Just look at that obvious bright light in the closet behind Lonnie. Same light Will stared at prior to vanishing… That accompanied with El’s flashback of being locked in a room alone, paints a rather grin image. He’s trying to shut Will out.

Just from these clues so far, he’s not a good father.

To stay or to go…

(a bear (Will) vs. a tree branch 🌳)

If you pay close attention, you’ll see many references to this song within the show… and they even specifically made the association between a father and son when Steve called Dustin “dad”. Which father and son pair are the most associated with the song? Will and Lonnie… as that song first played in the scene where Lonnie tells Joyce he won’t be taking Will to baseball practice.

We can tell from these moments (and more) that dad wants Will to stay put and not go anywhere. We even have Dustin (the one symbolizing “dad”) telling Will to “get back here… I’m going to kill you.” Those were also the last words spoken to Will before he vanished. This is significant.

Suspicious Evidence...

When we see Jonathan visit Lonnie's looking for Will, there's a small bike behind him.

We know Will left his bike in the forest 🌳 when he vanished. Why does Lonnie have a child's bike?

Demogorgon also means "The Deep Father". I talk more about this here. Will is telling Mike in code that his father "got [him]".

Joyce is yelling at "Papa" that he took her son away.

The line of God (aka a father) taking "someone so young, so innocent" at Will's funeral with the focus on Lonnie.

In TFS (spoiler), Lonnie admits to stealing baby Jesus from the Nativity scene.

(GIF credit to @/kaypeace)

This specific shot tells us what we need to know. Lonnie is responsible for Will's disappearance. He is hammering the nail in the wall and it directly cuts to Mike representing the gate being opened with a pencil and paper. Lonnie is the reason the gate opened in the first place! Now, when I say that I don’t mean he literally opened the gate, I mean that the a*use he inflicted onto Will had caused all the monsters within the show and the creation of the Upside Down. Bold claim to make, I know… but bear with me here. As I will now go into the darker clues…

Lonnie's "Type"

Joyce refers to Lonnie's girlfriend as a "teenager". This is significant! Because (spoiler for TFS), Lonnie dated Joyce when he was 25 and she was 17!

This is a pattern for him. He not only preys on animals 🦁, he preys on teenagers... and it gets even worse.

Look, the implications here are, unfortunately, very clear. We see Lonnie look at Jonathan walking away, then he looks down at the photo of Will with the dialogue "He's kinda cute, hmm?"

"Maybe I'll trade you in for the younger model?" is said while Lonnie looks in Jonathan's direction.

Trading someone for someone younger. He likes them young.

He is a predator. You may not want to believe the truth here but as we know with this show... everything is intentional.

Let’s continue on with even more disturbing clues…

When Joyce and Hopper find Will in the UD, he is in a library (a place of archives, of documented history) And he appears like this...

He's being violated... by the vines. Vines, that grow on trees. 🌳Lonnie means oak tree... This is a representation of documented history that he had been se*ually assaulted by... the tree with vines... Lonnie. Also if you look into the full lyrics of “Should I Stay or Should I Go”… let’s just stay it’s disturbing how that song is associated with a young boy and his father…

Also... keep in mind that the vines are preventing Will from speaking. Will is being silenced as well.

Next season we see the MF force itself into Will. Again, another violation, this time by the MF (yes- the mother fucker, that is what Lonnie is after all). This was done on a field. A baseball field. We know Lonnie is associated with baseball.

And again, the MF (father) is silencing Will...

In this scene in ST3, we get yet another reference to Will being violated in the past. We are shown a flashback of the MF possessing Will, and we are given the comparison of non-consensual sex and the gate/door opening. We know this due to the term “penetration” being used in relation to opening the gate…

Murray states "the door had been opened once" while we are shown Joyce with a look of horror on her face. "It was still healing", as experiencing that does require a lot of healing.

“Larry the construction guy”. Larry is a nickname for Laurence. Lonnie is another nickname for Laurence. This line by Jonathan has multiple meanings.

Lonnie is in Will's head.

“Stuck up your nose”. Lonnie is, again, represented as violating Will.

When Jonathan confronts Lonnie we can see this Evil Dead poster behind them. Not only is it very visible but… Lonnie draws attention to it. This poster is significant! This woman is being attacked and choked by a tree. 🌳 The tree goes inside her… it violates her.

Lonnie wants Jonathan to take down the poster. This is important. He wants Jonathan to stay silent. More on this later…

If this isn’t enough symbolism to convince you, check out kaypeace21’s post where she goes in even more depth around the music/musicians Jonathan references, and even more background details that add to this. They intentionally painted the picture of him being a s*xual a*user, as the existence of all these clues all add up to the same conclusion. A very uncomfortable truth.

Dad, you’re choking me

Speaking of being choked, ever notice how this is something that seems to occur frequently within the show?

That Mike and Ted moment in particular stands out because it occurs right after the Jonathan and Lonnie confrontation with that Evil Dead poster in the background (being choked by a tree 🌳)… so the “dad” doing the choking here is absolutely Lonnie.

Yet another case of being silenced as well...

The Trunk

Probably the most concerning moment to many on the surface. Remember how “dad” said “don’t go… anywhere” and the symbolism of him shutting Will out? Well, let’s just say that it’s not a stretch to think he put Will in a trunk before.

It’s also worth noting that when Billy opens the trunk to see a tied up Heather we get a flashback of him choking her. This William is likely replaying the ab*se Will went through… he was possessed by the MF (father) after all.

Also, remember in ST2 they tied Will up and he shouted several times “why am I tied up?” Yeah… Also all those being suffocated references…

Substance Use

While everyone can struggle with substance use and it doesn’t make them a bad person, the use of substances causes the lowering of inhibition. “Lowering inhibitions means reducing restraints against behaviors that might normally seem inappropriate, dangerous, or taboo.” x This is why people under the influence of alcohol, and harder drugs can become more aggressive and a*usive.

When we see Lonnie's house, we see many cans of beer. We also see him drinking while he visits Joyce. He also encourages Joyce to drink too to help her "think straight". Hmm... strange choice of words I must say.

Now, I don’t think Lonnie just has an alcohol problem, I think he also has a stimulant use disorder. Stimulant = drugs like cocaine and crystal meth.

Kaypeace21's post goes into the details of the possible crystal meth use and how when Will was possessed by the MF, he was showing symptoms of a child on this specific substance (sweating, trembling, seizures, etc).

Another stimulant use reference, but cocaine this time. Remember Larry = Laurence = Lonnie.

There are many subtle references to drug use throughout the entire show from Papa forcibly injecting Terry Ives, El, Henry etc, to Reefer Rick and Eddie and plenty more.

Although we don't have much information on this, I think it is implied that Lonnie is a drug user. Not only does this mean that his impulses were less inhibited, but this also puts into question the possibility of further neglect. The Byers are not rich by any means, and if Lonnie is so focused on obtaining substances... that leaves barely any money for anything else.

"He made me do it…"

So as Jonathan told us, Lonnie made him kill a rabbit. The lion 🦁 forcing his offsprings (lion cubs) to hunt and kill, just like him.

This is something we have seen quite frequently within the show:

El being forced to harm a cat by Papa

Henry being forced to harm a rabbit while influenced by the MF (father)

(In TFS) Henry being pressured to harm animals by Papa

Will saying "He made me do it" in reference to the monsters attacking (he being the MF = father)

Billy saying "He made me do it" (again he being the MF = father)

D'art killing Mews

What's interesting to note is the fact that many characters are associated with rabbits and/or other small animals.

This likely also connects with the reoccurring theme of survivor's guilt within the show. Specifically, of the survivor blaming themselves for the death of others.

Max blaming herself for Billy's death

Mike blaming himself for El's death

El blaming herself for the death of the lab kids

Nancy blaming herself for Barb’s death

Lonnie forced Will to cause harm and/or blamed Will for the harm caused. We know how Will is, he's incredibly sensitive. This absolutely would weigh on his conscience.

Where’s mom in all of this?

We know she has been working a lot, but there could also be something else going on here. Could the allusions to her mental health issues come into play here as well? It's possible...

During "the source" scene with Billy's memories, Billy cries out because his mother is gone. Keep in mind, Billy's memories parallel Will's A LOT (the baseball, father calling him a "pussy"... etc), and the song "William" plays during this whole sequence.

It is likely that Joyce was separated (or emotionally distant) from Will for some time in the past...

Domestic a*use

To make the assumption that Will had witnessed DV between his parents would not be a stretch. We have already seen Lonnie and Joyce fight and it was not pretty.

We also see Billy's father slap his mom hard in the face (like I said, Billy's memories parallel Will's memories...)

We also have seen Lonnie gaslight Joyce already, trying to make her think she's "crazy" and we've seen them fight about Will and finances. This was no stable household for a young child...

Fear of the Truth

It isn’t discussed enough, but there’s a reoccurring theme of the fear of telling the truth. And no this isn’t just about coming out of the closet.

This is especially true when it comes to telling mom the truth.

El repeatedly preventing the boys from telling Mike’s mom what’s going on… specifically about the “bad men”. She fears the repercussions (demonstrating a gun pointed to her head… implying a threat… “I’m gonna kill you!”).

Mike and Nancy unable to tell their own mother what’s going on with them.

Jonathan unable to tell Joyce about “what’s going on with [him]”.

Lonnie telling Jonathan to take down the poster showing a*use and telling him to “behave” for his mother’s sake… he’s trying to silence Jonathan…

Nancy telling Mike “no more secrets”

Joyce telling Will he needs to talk to her (about what happened with the MF)

Dustin hiding D’art from his mother/the kids in general hiding the supernatural stuff from their parents

Billy unable to explain to Karen what had happened to him

Max telling Billy he needs to talk in the sauna scene

and plenty more…

Will frequently communicates in a code. We see this several times:

"It was a seven, the demogorgon got me"

Communicating through the lights

Drawing pictures instead of talking/explaining

Morse code

"Sometimes it can be scary to open up like that. To say how you really feel. Especially to people you care about the most. Because what if... what if they don't like the truth?"

The painting itself

The painting speech... using "El" instead of himself

Usually a*use of a child is not immediately obvious. Parents often think that they will immediately know if their child has been a*used, but often, the signs stay hidden. Remember that most kids are a*used by adults they know. X

Some of the common reasons why child stay silent:

They worry about being blamed, or mistakenly believe they caused the abuse.

Their a*user has threatened them in some way.

They know and maybe even feel close to their a*user and don't want to hurt them.

They think no one will believe them or help them.

Babies and children under 5 years old—who make up nearly 40% of maltreated kids—may not have the words to explain what happened to them, making it difficult or even impossible for them to ask for help. X

This is just important information that everyone needs to know. Child a*use isn’t obvious, the kid may even seem alright with spending time with their a*user… this does not mean the a*use doesn’t exist. That is a very harmful claim to make.

When it comes to a*use, especially child a*use, we must be vigilant. Because the child likely won’t tell us but they will show us the signs.

Some signs to look out for:

Any sudden, continued change in behavior.

increased anxiety

unexplained injuries x

Repressed memories

I’m just going to outright say it: the NINA plot line is important because it tells us a lot about repressed traumatic memories.

“Our brains have a defence mechanism in place to protect it from bad memories. You buried these memories long ago.”

Then in the last episode of ST4, we learn something VERY telling about Will.

Remember… Larry = Laurence = Lonnie.

They basically told us that Will only vaguely remembers Lonnie. This is an incredibly important clue to what Will is going through. Will’s trauma was so intense that he has been repressing the memories of his own father.

In ST5, this is absolutely going to be an important aspect to his arc and to the story as a whole. Will must come face-to-face with his traumatic past. Unlocking those memories will be key to finally defeating the monsters for good.

The Destroyer of Worlds

So, I’ve mentioned this many times before, but Will is compared to “Little Boy” the first atomic bomb. (Click here and here for posts about it).

He is a bomb that went off on Nov 6, 1983, freezing time, and forever changing Hawkins. J. Robert Oppenheimer was the creator of the real atomic bomb, and he was known as the “Father of the Atomic Bomb.” He was also known as “The Destroyer of Worlds”. Because Will is “Little Boy” and Lonnie is his father…

Lonnie is The Destroyer of Worlds. A perfect term for someone who inflicted such horror onto an innocent child. Because trauma like this has an incredibly profound effect on a young mind, in more ways than you can imagine. His actions are the catalyst for the chain reaction of this entire show. He pushed over that very first domino.

Why is all of this evidence so hidden? Why do we barely know anything about Will’s past with Lonnie? Because… instead of telling us his past, they’ve been showing it to us through the horrors. You have to look very deeply into the show to see the truth start to add up like a puzzle. There are many themes that reoccur/are alluded to within the show for a reason. And it’s all from one single source.

Demogorgon is The Deep Father, MF is the mother fucker (father), Papa is father, and it was Vecna’s father who was convicted of the murders.

It was father this whole time.

#stranger things #stranger things theory #lonnie byers #will byers #jonathan byers #joyce byers #byler

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phoenixtalion · 2 months ago

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@keferon

Hi, I don’t go here, but I wandered into your AU and weird twinks being restrained and messed with is relevant to my interests. I’d planned on just shoving this in your inbox on anon and running away but then it got too long for that.

@spector-author this is also your fault.

(Texaid anon, I am attempting to contact you psychically.)

[No actual gore, just a bit of Vortex thinking about it. EDIT: IT'S ALSO PORN sorry I had a forest/trees moment. >.<]

______________________________________________

It’s not the first time his pilot has dozed off in the chair, but only the second that First Aid has done so while wearing the control helmet. The first, he had been half-drugged, in pain, unconscious as much as asleep. Now, he is – well, he’s as safe and sound as any pilot is in one of these fucking deathtraps, which means he’s exhausted and anxious and probably dying slowly. But for now, the cockpit is warm and the LEDs are pulsing low and red like a heartbeat, and Felix is dreaming.

Vortex can’t ‘see’ the dream – even while First Aid is having it, it’s not like real sensory input, all hazy blurs and impressions. But he can read the biometrics, the elevated heart rate, and he can feel Felix’s arousal through the link.

Yeah, it’s a good dream. Vortex sinks deeper into the connection, stoking those feelings like blowing on an ember. Manipulating the neural link to cause feedback for his pilots is a trick he learned early on, but he’s always used it to cause pain or fear (hallucinations, even, but that makes things pop inside their head real fast.)

He’s never touched a pilot’s mind like this before, scalpel-light instead of brutal. Once, when his Aid had still needed coaxing to sit in his embrace, Vortex had promised not to hurt him, and he’d scoffed. How many other pilots did you say that to?

The answer was none. Not a single one. It had never even occurred to him.

The first couple he’d destroyed instantly out of sheer territorial rage at someone else invading his mecha. (The mechanics had ripped out the whole pilot interface and replaced it, but couldn’t find anything wrong, couldn’t find him.)

Then he’d taken to toying with them, waiting a few missions or killing them slowly, because he had nothing better to do to keep himself entertained, but he’d never bothered to talk to them.

And then he’d done it because every time he burnt out another pilot, they’d sent a cranky little disgraced medic to clean out his cockpit. His lack of squeamishness caught Vortex’s attention, so he’d tested it with bigger and more creative messes. Every time the EMT left, he took not only the fresh blood but layers of old, crusted viscera that everyone else had long stopped bothering with. First Aid is messing with him too, all the time, even if he doesn’t realize.

Vortex strokes across Felix’s slumbering brain in a way he thinks of like raking nails, many light but sharp points of contact. His pilot makes a little sound and squirms in his sleep, and he hastily makes sure he’s recording audio as well as video, because he’s going to want to relive this during the long hours when First Aid is away from his hangar.

More carefully than Vortex has ever done anything, he teases out individual strands in the neural network, finding exactly which parts are connected to making his pilot whimper and rock his hips up in search of friction he’s not going to get. First Aid has only got himself to blame – for teaching him how to vivisect things instead of just cutting them up, and how much fun it could be. Precision never used to thrill Vortex, until this little medic crawled inside him.

He thinks he could make Felix cum in his pants just by touching his fucked up little brain. He also knows he could kill him like this, so very easily, which only makes it more exciting. It’s never mattered if he slipped before, and it’s been so long since anything mattered.

First Aid whines softly, absently palming the crotch of his armor, and Vortex needs him awake, now. If he can’t fuck him properly, he can make sure his pilot knows exactly who is doing this to him. Disentangling himself from the other slightly, he considers what parts he does still have.

Vortex was a ghost in the machine, not a poltergeist; he could only move the parts of the mecha that were computer-controlled. Years of familiarity had given him a little leeway – shift just so, and that loose ceiling panel would drop open with a loud -bang- that had been good for a cheap scare the first few times his future pilot had cleaned up after the old ones – but not telekinesis.

(And you know what the fucking kicker was? Three weeks before he died, Vortex had pitched the engineers on installing a small arm inside the mecha’s head, so he could deal with debris in the unusually large cockpit without unhooking from the control system, after a fight where he’d spent the second half ignoring being whacked by a loose cable. Everyone had agreed it was a good idea that could be implemented fairly easily and oh, look, never got around to it. He could have done so much fun shit with one stupid little claw arm in the past four years.)

But since he has to work with what he’s got, Vortex abruptly engages the pilot harness. First Aid is roughly jerked back from his comfortable slouch and pinned tightly to the pilot’s seat. He wriggles sleepily against the restraints, confusion and irritation rising up out of warm oblivion as he wakes. Vortex waits with predatory attention for the moment he realizes his predicament, fully prepared to resort to more extreme measures if he tried to slip back into sleep.

There – the spike of panic, spreading like wildfire, as Felix becomes conscious enough to be aware that he is immobilized, achingly hard, and subject to Vortex’s undivided attention. Deliberately, he digs into that sweet spot in Felix’s mind until he gasps.

“Good morning, sunshine. Sleep well?” he purrs inside First Aid’s head. The medic’s eyes are wide behind his visor, and while the dim red light makes it impossible to see, the interface tells him how deeply he’s blushing.

“W-what the hell are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Vortex punctuates his words with a pointed stroke, reminding him that a minute ago First Aid had been enjoying what he was doing just fine.

He wouldn’t mind at all if Felix struggled. But just like the first time he’d sat in the pilot’s seat, when he’d been smart enough to keep his hands in his lap and away from the controls, he lays back and lets Vortex do whatever he wants. “Good boy.”

Felix shudders at the praise and the contact, turning his face into the headrest like that will let him hide from Vortex. But he’s surrounding the other pilot, entwined with him, doing things he doesn’t have words for and the interface sure as hell wasn’t designed for.

“Touch yourself for me,” he orders, and First Aid fumbles for his armor and uniform with gratifying haste. Vortex watches him eagerly from both inside and out – the way his hands tremble as he undoes his fly, the way he bites his lip on the first actual stroke of his cock.

The sensations are far more vivid now that First Aid is awake, very nearly real in a way that he can’t afford to stop and think about. Vortex had wanted to make Felix tease himself, drag things out and make him beg for release, but now that the end is approaching he’s just as desperate for it, maybe even more.

Vortex cuts himself from the rest of the mecha’s systems, focusing on his pilot until he can imagine it’s him with his hand wrapped around Felix’s cock, or the other way around, or both. In their minds, he squeezes, presses down as hard as he dares – probably harder than he should. There are worse ways to go, anyway. He would know.

“Vortex—” Felix gasps, arching his spine like he’s having a seizure, bucking against the straps hard enough to bruise. His mind goes white and takes Vortex’s with it (for what feels like long enough that it should be worrying but he really really doesn’t care) as he spills all over his own hand and lap.

Felix slumps in the restraints, boneless and panting. Drifting on his afterglow, Vortex lets himself pretend, just for a little while, that the other man is sprawled in his lap and not directly in the pilot’s seat, held in his arms rather than a safety harness. Which just goes to show that not having a body made you crazy, because he’d never gone in for any of that cuddly shit before.

The urge for a cigarette is so strong that First Aid reflexively pats his pocket for a pack that isn’t there.

“You’re always making messes I have to clean up,” he grumbles halfheartedly, wiping his hand on his already soiled flight suit.

Re-extending his awareness back into the mecha, Vortex can admire just what a lovely mess he is from the outside. The thought of First Aid having to do a walk of shame back to his bunk like this was almost enough to reconcile Vortex to having to let him out of the cockpit to get a fresh uniform. Almost.

“I made a mess?” Vortex laughs, and jabs a tender spot inside Felix, the equivalent of touching him while he’s still too sensitive, and doesn’t let up until he yelps.

“Yeah, you,” he retorts anyway, gasping for breath with a pouty little scowl Vortex finds adorable, and flips one of the mecha’s cameras the bird for good measure. “Are you going to let me up or what?”

“Maybe.” Fuck, he’s so cute Vortex wants to trap him in the cockpit until he suffocates. But instead he releases the harness, and absolutely doesn’t feel a pang when First Aid slips the helmet off, or another when he runs a hand through his sweaty hair and the dead pilot wishes he could be the one to do it. He watches Felix all the way out the hangar, ruthlessly ignoring the part of him that said it was a mistake to let him go.

It doesn’t matter, either, that instead of avoiding him like Vortex half dreads expects, First Aid is back in a couple hours, freshly showered and changed, and curls up in his stupid little nest in the back of the cockpit like nothing has changed.

______________________________________________

*slinks back into their crevice*

#tf mecha universe #phoenix writes #merry christmas fuck a weird robot #texaid

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youwerethedefeated · 3 months ago

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Ok brief run down of kagehina sightings in the light novels for @infinitemilk

Right off the bat in volume 1 chapter 1, we have Hinata daydreaming about having a picnic with kageyama underneath a beautiful sakura tree in full bloom. Yep with the pink flowers falling around romantically, they're sharing food and laughing together etc.

The "he chose the Olympics over me" also comes from there, though I'd say that's the least gay thing to happen in that chapter. (It's volume 12, chapter 1 if I'm not mistaken.) Prior to that, Hinata also complains that "Kageyama never tells me anything" and that if they're partners, shouldn't be included in that kind of decision making? (Yeah just like that)

This is the same chapter where yachi goes on on her (paraphrasing) "they're not friends not lovers but a secret, worse third thing" rant: "more like a fork and knife, or the minute hand and the hour hand of a clock. Even when there's no conversation between them, they still continue to move with the same purpose"

This same chapter, hinata continues bitching about kageyama joining a pro team/the JNT and ditching him the whole time lmao

There are a few chapters during the summer training camp that show Hinata pestering everyone to compete with him because Kageyama wasn't talking to him - at some point lev asks "why don't you compete with your partner" and hinata is like "Oh we're taking a break" (yeah just like THAT)

When they do start training together again they're both so happy about it.....

There's a chapter (that I never found translated in full) that's that one scene where Hinata messages kageyama on new years day, and kageyama gets "fluttering feelings at the bottom of his stomach." My dude be out here getting literal butterflies in his belly JUST FROM A TEXT and then he proceeds to get mad at hinata for making him feel this way 😭

Later on when they meet anyway, Hinata says he wanted to go to the shrine with kageyama and that even if they go now, it won't be the same bc then it's not "his first time" anymore.....

And the star of the show. The Grand King in Rio.

This one takes the crown for not only being the gayest, but also perhaps the most plot relevant. It's just about that time Hinata and Oikawa met in Rio.

Inevitably, they talk a bit about Kageyama, and oikawa starts downright TEASING hinata over him like... asking if they'll meet for the Olympics and stuff.

And then hinata starts spiraling because a) he's not at a point where he can meet kageyama as an equal, b) he can't remember Kageyama's face, c) he tries so hard to remember "that terrifying face" that he gives himself a tummy ache ksjhdkaldm

In the end hinata arrives at the conclusion that he and Kageyama don't need to meet now, since he isn't ready, and he recalls the promise he made to Kageyama, and how it's such a coincidence that he met Oikawa all the across the globe, and it was also a coincidence that he met Kageyama in the first place, but if life is made of coincidences then it's inevitable that they'll meet again someday... the rest is super poetic, really

ANYWAY this is it from the top of my head. I think @kagehiner might have more anecdotes since he was the one who got me into the LNs in the first place lol

#hinata shouyou #kagehina #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #kageyama tobio #im telling you the books are crazy man

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baleriontheblackkitten · 4 months ago

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Something I find intriguing about the books is how, the more you advance through the story, the more Targeryen there are in one way or another. You start with this picture of a realm that has gone through a regime change years ago, all the royal family killed except for two kids in exile, half a world away, with no remaining connections to the land their family used to rule. And the land the Targaryen used to rule seemingly has no more connections to the old regime, and yet - the bones of the dragons are still there, underneath the main halls, hidden but very much there. There's a Targaryen in Castle Black, assumed to be harmless - a disabled elderly man whose allegiance to both the Citadel and the Night's Watch excludes him from the line of succession, theoretically wiping away his family history. And yet he is a Targaryen, and he mentors a new generation of protagonists of Westerosi politics, and surely the fact that Sam heard his words about the prince/princess who was promised and Daenerys will have consequences. There's a secret Targeryen also in the North, although very few know. There are Targaryen loyalists who are planning to topple the new regime. There's a boy who is either another secret Targaryen or the descendant of a Targaryen cadet house, either way someone whose identity (real, imagined or both of them) matters so much to many. But there are also people with Targaryen ancestry who do not carry the name because they're not descended from the male line, or descended from someone born out of wedlock, like Bellegere Otherys and who even knows how many others. And of course Targaryen blood runs through the veins of many whose ancestors married Targaryen women - the Baratheons themselves use their Targeryen blood as a crutch for their ascent to the throne, we see from Quentyn Martell that his Targaryen blood is something he feels important to who he is (although it appears not to be as relevant as he hoped to, it's still something he's acutely aware of). And of course there's Bloodraven doing what he's doing, tapping into a power no one else even understands, and also mentoring a new generation.

House Targaryen is simultaneously a ghost haunting the Seven Kingdoms, and something very much alive. After all, in this world ghosts can be things that are very much alive. It's not a contradiction. There's dead dragons under the floor, but their eyes follow you. There's more living dragons that you knew.

Speaking of which. The way the lines between dragons and Starks/weirwood trees are blurred is obviously so important. A man of Targaryen blood tapping into the power of the weirwood network and teaching a Stark about it. The empty sockets of the dragon skulls underneath the Red Keep seemingly watching you like the faces on the trees... but also the statues of the dead Starks in the crypts underneath Winterfell! It's all about the meeting of ice and fire, of Stark and Targaryen, of the Old gods of the North and the gods of Old Valyria. Aegon the Conqueror knew, he did call his prophetic dream a song of ice and fire. Rhaegar tried to figure out what that meant, at some point probably assumed the prince that was promised was supposed to be born from a Stark and a Targaryen parent. But there's probably more than that.

Also - the Starks are also assumed to be mostly dead! At some point, the general consensus (at least among those who know that the fake Arya is fake) is that only Sansa remains alive, just like the general consensus about the Targaryen is that only Dany remains alive after Viserys dies. But more Stark children are alive than most people know - there's Stark loyalists planning on putting Rickon back in Winterfell, even.

The post ended up taking a life of its own and I don't actually remember what point I was going to make initially, but hey.

#my asoiaf thoughts #asoiaf meta #house targaryen #house stark #the song of ice and fire

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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year ago

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Chapter 12- I Love You. I Know.

Summary: As the end of October approaches, you and Javi learn more about celebrating Halloween and Dia De Los Muertos together. After a sleepless night, and a Halloween party at the Murphy's, Javi begins to open up to you about his past.

Word Count: 15.6K (I'm sweating)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), oral (m receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, praise kink, semi-public sex (Oh the poor Murphy's...), PTSD/Anxiety around grief, loss and Javi's past, some angst/tension, mentions of drinking/being drunk (Steve is getting PLASTERED), mentions of food/eating, SO MANY STAR WARS REFERENCES, literally this chapter made me sob while I was writing it, editing it, and re-reading it, I am SO sorry

A/N: You guys. Holy shit. This chapter really had me in my feels. This chapter was def a labor of love, but I'm really happy with how it turned out!! Thank you for as always for all you kind words, you truly, truly, TRULY have no idea how much your support means to me 😭💖 Also please don't kill me after you finish reading this chapter I PROMISE *things* are happening so soon I can literally taste it, but I needed for this chapter to happen first, and you would be silly to think that *things* didn't get its own whole ass chapter and I am just as excited as you AH

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The excitement of October’s conclusion was in the air, and the joys of getting to celebrate what you hoped would be the first of many holidays with Javi was at the forefront of your mind. While the end of summer meant school was here and your carefree days were gone until next June, October meant it was time for one of your favorite holidays- Halloween. It was one of your most cherished things to celebrate as a kid, and even still as an adult. The memories of jumping into leaf piles off your swingset with your brothers, dressing up in goofy, homemade costumes to trick-or-treat (because your mom was not about to buy 4 new sets of costumes every single year), carving pumpkins, and stealing as many of your brother’s Kit Kat bars as you could without getting caught, filled your heart with a warmth and joy that you couldn’t quite describe. While the 80 degree temperatures and lack of bright reds and yellows painted across the leaves falling from their trees was much different from the Chicago Octobers you were accustomed to, it hadn’t stopped you from heading full steam into Halloween.

“So do you have any thoughts on what we should be for Steve and Connie’s? I have no problem going out to buy stuff for costumes, but I can already hear my mom yelling at me for wasting my money on cheaply made clothes I’m gonna wear for 5 hours when I have something perfectly good in my closet.” You rolled your eyes as you shuffled through the hangers, Javi sitting on the edge of your bed folding the laundry you were working on putting away.

The two of you had gladly accepted the invitation from Steve and Connie to spend the weekend with them in San Antonio, as the Murphy’s planned to host a Halloween party at their house for their friends and co-workers, giving you and Javi a chance to have a fun weekend out of town together.

“Hmmmm?” He asked, looking up at you as you grabbed a few shirts, examining them for costume potential. “We’re dressing up for this thing?”

“Yeah, that’s like, the whole point of Halloween, dummy.” You giggled, throwing a few options on the floor before making your way over to your pants. “Didn’t you dress up as a kid for Halloween?”

Unlike yourself, Javi had spent his whole life celebrating Día de los Muertos, Halloween having nowhere near as much relevance to him as it did to you, spending the end of October and first days of November gathering with his family to spend the day making Pan de Muerto (Day of the Dead sweet bread), watching the parades on the streets of Downtown Laredo before visiting the cemetery where his grandparents were buried, decorating their graves in cempasúchil (marigold flowers), candles and photographs with his primos (cousins). Since his mom had passed, Javi hadn’t been home to celebrate with his family, and had almost forgone the tradition completely during his time in Colombia, the pain and loss of his mother and the solemn sadness of celebrating alone leading him to try his best to forget about the holiday all together.

“Uh, no, not, not really. Didn’t really do Halloween, isn’t really as much of a thing down here. My family always celebrated Día de Los Muertos instead.” He replied, almost embarrassed by his answer, not wanting to damper your excitement as you dug through your closet for costumes.

Your heart sank to your stomach, feeling awful that you hadn’t even taken into consideration that Javi's traditions around this time of year were completely different from what you were used to. The two of you had never really talked about how you wanted to celebrate future holidays, and always had wanted to make sure that the important parts of your lives were celebrated equally. Javi hadn’t said anything after you had spent the past few days putting up Halloween decorations around your apartment, and now you felt like an idiot assuming he had spent his whole life celebrating just like you.

“Oh… Shit. Javi, I’m so sorry, if you don’t wanna do costumes, we don’t have to, you just hadn’t said anything about Día de Los Muertos so I just assumed that-”

“Baby, it’s okay.” He pushed himself up off the bed, the width of his broad palms wrapping around your hips, trying to ease the guilt he could tell was rapidly consuming you. “You’re right, I never told you about it. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything to celebrate it, and I haven’t been home for it since I’ve gotten back from Colombia. I just- I don’t really know how to feel about it, I guess. The last time I did anything for it was before my mom died. I was never able to bring myself to do anything about it while I was gone, and I guess now I just feel really shitty that was the way I decided to handle it.” It broke your heart to see the pain in his eyes, pulling yourself closer to him as you wrapped your arms around his stomach, leaning your head against his chest. It was then, the realization had hit you too- This would be your first year of holidays without Patrick. You didn’t know as much as you would have liked to about Día de Los Muertos, but you did know that it was to celebrate the lives of loved ones you’d lost, a feeling that you and Javi were both all too familiar with.

“Listen…” You raised your head, looking up at him, arms still intertwined around his waist. “I don’t- I don’t wanna make you do anything that you’re uncomfortable with. I guess this is the first time we’ve ever really talked about this kind of stuff. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, Jav, and that means celebrating the things that are special to both of us. The things that are important to you are important to me too. I want our lives for us, for our future family, to be filled with all the things we care the most about, whether that means keeping old traditions or making our own new ones. It would mean a lot to me to get to celebrate Día de los Muertos with you, and if it’s okay, I would love to sprinkle in some Halloween too, because I’m fucking dying to carve a pumpkin.”

You smiled up at him as his hand slid under your jaw, his thumb tracing across your cheek as he tried his best to hold back the tears welling in his eyes. It took everything in him to not ruin his plans, wanting to run into the bedroom, grab the ring out of his sock drawer and propose to you that very instant. Even after all this time, Javi still couldn't believe that he was the person you wanted to share the rest of your life with. That you wanted to intertwine your past, present, and future with his, to have a life, a family, together that the two of you could cherish forever. Never in a million years had he assumed he’d be anywhere close to where he was today, holding the world’s most beautiful, perfect woman in his arms, as she told him how she wanted nothing more than to build a family and spend the rest of her days with him.

“Osita… I fucking love you so much, you know that?” He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a soft and deep kiss, your heart racing as he pulled you in tighter.

“Yeah, I mean, I guess, just a little bit…” You giggled, poking fun at him, considering not a day had passed since the first night he had said it that Javi hadn’t told you just how much he loved you.

“Shut up, you dork.” He chuckled, making you squeal as he picked you up, playfully shaking you in his grasp before setting you back down. “I’d love nothing more, Hermosa. I don’t know how the fuck you’re supposed to carve a pumpkin or what the hell you have planned for these costumes, but I’m all in. I want it all with you, Osita. Thank you.”

“Of course. For as much or as little as you want to do for Día de los Muertos, I’m all in too. I’m gonna be honest, I love Hallowen. Not as much as Christmas, but it’s a close second. It means you’re gonna have to trust me with a giant ass knife and cover yourself in pumpkin guts, though.”

“My trust is quickly starting to fade. Seriously though, what the hell are we supposed to dress up as?” He raised an eyebrow at you, nodding over to the pile of clothes you had pulled from your closet, now piled on the floor.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got some ideas.”

The weeks leading up to the holidays had made for fun at home date nights, the both of you genuinely looking forward to learning about the traditions you had both held so dear to your hearts. Almost every night after work, you had done something to celebrate the events leading up to the day. You had shown Javi a few of your favorite Halloween movies, including It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, Beetlejuice, and Ghostbusters, very adamantly insisting to him that those movies were about as scary as you were going to get, blaming your brothers for scarring you after forcing you to watch The Exorcist at the ripe age of 7 years old. In addition to the movies, you had told him about other funny Trick-Or-Treating stories from your childhood, Javi’s favorite being how your brothers, (being the ruthless idiots they were) paid one of their friends in all of their halloween candy to jump out of a bush dressed as a terrifying old lady to scare the absolute shit out of you, and making you quite literally pee your pants. In return Javi shared his favorite memories of cooking in the kitchen with his mom as she made Pan de Muertos for his family, the two of you even attempting to make it one of the nights after work, milling about the kitchen together as Javi told you about his family you had yet to meet, or had passed away long before you.

After a lengthy hunt, you were able to find pumpkins, bringing them to Chucho’s house to carve them since you had nowhere to put them inside your apartment. You offered him the rest of your Pan de Muertos in exchange for a place to work on your pumpkins, and while he gladly accepted the bread, the three of you knew Chucho was always happy to have you and Javi over, regardless.

“So tell me, mija,” Chucho spoke in between mouthfuls of sweet bread, rocking back and forth in his chair, “is there a meaning behind carving the pumpkins, or is it just for fun?”

“Just for fun! Okay, it looks like we’re ready, you want me to show you how to do it, or just let you go for it?” You smiled at Javi, the two of you sitting cross legged on Chucho’s porch, pumpkins open in front of you.

“You just scoop them out, right?” Javi questioned, looking into the pumpkin with an unsure grimace. “It seems like there's a lot in here, Osita. I have to get all of it out?”

“Yeah, or else you can’t see the design when you carve it. C’mon you big baby, just stick your hand in there and pull the guts out!” You laughed, digging your hand into your pumpkin, scooping out hearty globs of pumpkin guts, slopping them into the bucket Chucho had set out for you. Reluctantly, Javi joined, you and Chucho both absolutely dying at Javi’s face as his hand met the squishy fibers inside his pumpkin.

“Jesus, that feels fucking gross!” He laughed, shaking his head as he threw some of the seeds and strings into the trash next to him.

“You need me to do it for you?” You giggled, flicking a pumpkin seed at him as he winced with the second handful he pulled out.

“No, cabrón (asshole), I can do it.” Javi grumbled as he rolled his eyes at you, the both of you scooping hearty handfuls of goop.

“You hear that, Chucho? Calling me an asshole because he’s too scared to pull out pumpkin guts.” You looked back at his dad, giving him a playful grin, his smile already wide from the enjoyment of watching the two of you. With your back turned to Javi, you hadn’t noticed the small handful of seeds he had collected in his hand, lining up his arm to aim right at the back of your head. “I can’t believe that- HEY!” You whipped your neck around, running your hand over the back of your neck, picking seeds and strings out of your hair, seeing Javi snicker to himself as your jaw dropped open in shock. “Did you seriously just throw pumpkin guts at me?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, must have been a ghost.” He shrugged, smirking to himself before digging his hand back into his pumpkin.

“You see this?!” You looked back at Chucho, pointing your finger at Javi, pretending to be stern, although your laughter quickly escaped. “Absolutely ridiculous, I swear.”

“Javier, that is no way to treat your future esposa! (Wife) No quiero mis nietos ser cubierto en calabaza! Me encantáran en cualquier caso, pero todavía! (I don’t want my future grandchildren covered in pumpkin! I will love them either way, but still!)” Chucho scolded with a smirk, you and Javi silently smiling to each other at the thought of one day doing this with your own children. Javi had tried to stop fighting off his dad’s comments about grandkids a while ago- Chucho knew just as well as the two of you that he would have his grandchildren soon enough.

“Ella lo pído… (She asked for it…)” Javi muttered under his breath, shooting his gaze up at you as he felt cold goop hit the side of his cheek, wiping the pumpkin you had just thrown at him off with the back of his hand, watching you smirk silently to yourself as you continued to scoop out your pumpkin.

“Ahora… Estamos a mano. (And now… We’re even.)”

The 3 of you chatted on the porch, the sky now painted a dark black, filled with twinkling constellations above as you finished carving your pumpkins. Yours, a cute ghost with a little smiley face, and Javi’s, what he had tried to convince you and Chucho was also a ghost, even though it looked more like he had just carved a squiggly hole in the middle of his. It took a little prodding and convincing, but as you all talked about how the Peña family had spent many a Día de los Muertos, you and Chucho were able to get Javi to agree to go visit his mom’s gravesite on the Sunday after you got back from Steve and Connie’s party. Chucho had even promised to keep his tias, tios, and primos (aunts, uncles, and cousins) completely out of the picture this year, wanting to give Javi all the time and space he needed to go see his mom for the first time since her funeral. He was reluctant at first, riddled with the guilt of leaving her unvisited all these years, but as he felt the gentle squeeze of your hand, your silent reassurance was all he needed to know that you would be by his side, every step of the way. As you said your goodbyes, Chucho hugged you just a little extra tighter than normal, as if to thank you for everything you had done for his son, and just how thankful he was to have you in his life, too.

Even though the Murphy’s had very graciously offered to let you and Javi stay on Friday night as well as Saturday, both Steve and Connie very much understood when you had told them on the phone that the only thing that you wanted to do after coming home from the chaos of managing an elementary school Halloween party was take a very, very long nap. You and Javi had spent the night ordering pizza and watching Young Frankenstein, only lasting about 20 minutes into the movie before you were dead asleep, snoring against Javi’s chest, still dressed in If You Give A Mouse A Cookie costume from earlier today. Carrying you to bed and undressing you from your mouse ears and oversized overalls, Javi curled into bed next to you, pulling your body against his as he stared at the ceiling. Despite how hard he tried to fall asleep, he laid there, wide awake as ever, as his head raced with the tornado of thoughts brewing inside his brain.

Javier Peña had never really considered himself to be an anxious person. For most of his life, he couldn’t be. For the sake of his job, the sake of his family after his Mom passed, Javi had survived the only way he had known how- Block it out, and ignore it. And so far, that strategy had seemed to bode for him pretty darn well. But that was before he had anyone who depended on him, cared about him, anyone who made his life worth living for. That was before he had met you. Now, Javi found himself at the crossroads of a moment he had been waiting for since the moment he had first laid eyes on you. Something that brought him absolute joy and sheer terror at the same time- Javier Peña was going to propose to you, and he was an anxious fucking mess.

If that in itself wasn’t enough, things at the Laredo County Sheriff's Department had been an absolute shit show. Mexico was the only thing on anyone’s radar, making for long days and high tension at the office, trying to do anything to slow the spread of the cartel’s influence across the border. Day after day, report after report, it felt like the department was drowning in the endless shitty news of new death tolls, record breaking trafficking stats, and lack of control as cocaine moved across the Rio Grande at a groundbreaking pace. Even though he found himself even further removed from Mexico than he ever was in Colombia, he couldn’t help but feel that painful, searing wrench in his gut when he sat down to really think about it.

You.

Spending your lives together.

Having a family.

Protecting his wife and kids.

The things he would do to keep you safe.

The terrible things he had done he had justified were keeping other people safe.

The imagines of the things he wish he could unsee.

The pain and hurt he wished he could take back.

The fear of what he was capable of doing.

So with a knot in his chest from work, a ring hidden away in his sock drawer, and the beginnings of a plan to ask the woman he loved more than life itself to marry him, Javi coped with the weight of his stress the only way he knew how. He couldn’t fucking sleep.

The thoughts played in his mind on repeat, torturing him with every loop around his brain. He tried his best to close his eyes, to empty his head for a moment of peace, but no matter how much he wished he could have willed himself to sleep, it was no use. By the time the alarm clock on his nightstand read 2:05 AM, Javi had completely given up on the idea of rest for the night, quietly making his way out of bed to go wander around the living room. It wasn’t long before you too were also awake, rolling over in your sleep to find Javi’s space in the bed cold and empty. Rubbing your eyes and propping yourself up against your pillow, you scanned around the darkness of your room as you came to, realizing that Javi was nowhere to be found. Draping one of the blankets from your bed over you, you crept into the hallway, greeted by the soft light of one of the living room lamps painting shadows against the wall.

“Javi, are you up?” Your voice still soft and sleepy, rubbing your hand along your face, squinting from the sudden brightness that lit up the room.

“Osita, baby, did I wake you up? I'm so sorry. Go back to bed, okay?” Javi shot up from the couch, setting down whatever book he had been half focused on reading as he watched your bed headed figure meander into the living room.

“No, it’s okay.” You grumbled, holding out your blanket covered arms for Javi to melt his body into yours, wrapping you in a tight hug. You pressed your head into the bare skin of his chest, snaking your hands around his waist as he planted his lips against the the top of your head, burying his nose in your tangled hair. “Baby, what’s going on? Why can’t you sleep? I’m worried about you, Jav.”

“I’m… Yeah, I’m okay, Hermosa. Just a lot on my mind.” He sighed, his exhale still buried in your hair as he savored the smell of you, still lingering even in your sleepy state.

His pause alone was enough to know okay wasn’t the word that you would use to describe Javi right now. His words were burdened and fatigued, making it clear that whatever was on his mind was weighing on him more heavily than he wanted to admit.

“Are you sure? Javi, if you wanna talk about anything, you know I’m always here, right?”

You wanted so desperately to pry. Everything in you had a feeling that whatever was keeping him up were entangled in the parts of his dark parts past, the last secrets holding up the final wall between the two of you. You knew from your brothers how hard it was to talk about the pain and suffering they had witnessed, and begging them to talk about it before they were ready only seemed to make it worse. Hell, after Patrick died, it felt like you didn’t sleep for weeks, and it had taken you months to open up about it. You knew Javi hurt, and as much as you wanted to, digging deeper into the things that plagued him in his restless nights wasn’t what he needed right now. Right now, he just needed someone to be there for him.

“Is there anything I can do, Javi? I just wanna help.” The breath of your sympathetic whispers were hot against Javi’s skin, squeezing your arms to pull him as close to you as he could. He paused for a moment, letting out another deep breath as cradled the back of your head with his palm, running his hands through your hair.

“Will- Will you stay up with me? Just a little bit longer?” His voice trembled as you turned your head to lock your eyes with his, the gentle nod of your head bringing him a moment of relief.

“Of course, baby. Of course I’ll stay up with you. Do you wanna turn on the TV or put on a movie? Sometimes that helps me sleep.” You stretched your arms over your head, scrunching your face as you yawned before tugging your blanket tighter around your body.

“Believe me, Hermosa, I know it does.” He let out a soft chuckle as he pressed a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Oh shit, yeah that is true. I don’t even think I made it halfway through Young Frankenstein tonight, which is a crime. It’s such a good movie. I don’t even remember getting into bed.” You yawned again, this time taking one of your blanket covered fists to try and rub the sleep out of your eyes, forcing yourself to stay awake.

“Well, if you give a mouse pizza and a movie after a long day at school, then she’ll probably need her boyfriend to carry her to bed because she’s so tired.” Now awake enough, Javi’s cute jab at your costume for school made you let out a little giggle, giving him a little shove with your blanket wrapped body. “Why don’t we turn the rest of it on, so you can finish watching?”

“I don’t wanna fall asleep on you, Javi.” You grumbled, pouting up at him, considering he had just asked you to stay awake with him.

“It’s okay. As long as I have you by me, I’ll be alright, I promise.” Reluctantly, you nodded in agreement, plopping yourself on the couch as Javi turned on the TV, rewinding the VHS tape to the point where you had fallen asleep earlier before joining you, draping his arm around your shoulder as you tucked in your knees and scooted closer to him. You sat for a few minutes in silence, letting the sounds of the movie fill the background. As you turned your head to look up at Javi, you could tell that even though his eyes were pointed at the screen, there was no way he was really watching the movie. Reaching up your hand, you ran your fingers across the length of his strong jaw, his stubble scratching against your palm, forcing him to look back at you. Your eyes met his, the sweet, chocolate brown looking back at you, with a confusing mix of exhaustion, guilt, want and helplessness. You brought your face closer to his, your lips now only inches apart as your whispers danced against his mouth, desperate to find something to ease his pain.

“What do you need, Javi? Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you.”

His tongue swept against his bottom lip, taking one last shaky breath before his words left his body with his exhale.

“You. I need you.”

His hands found their way to the bare skin of your thighs, his fingertips barely brushing against your flesh as he traced his way up to your torso, toying with the hem of one of his shirts that always looked so much better on you than him. Pressing his palm against the soft curves of your stomach, he tugged at the waistband of your sleep shorts, causing you to shift your body so he could slide them down your legs. Reaching over towards his lap, you grasped at his boxers, feeling him already half hard under the fabric as you rubbed your hand against him. Javi held your hips, slowly guiding you to straddle him as you kicked your shorts off your feet, leaving them in a pile on the ground. Slowly, you began to grind deeper into his lap, the feeling of him now fully hard beneath you. Gently prompting you to raise your arms over your head, Javi lifted your shirt, leaving you bare as he dropped it next to your shorts.

“Is this okay?” Javi rasped, pressing languid kisses against your neck and collarbone as you ran your hands against the width of his broad shoulders.

“Of course, baby.” Your reply low and horse as you began to drag the fabric of his boxers lower and lower, finally letting his cock spring free as his waistband pushed past. You brought your palm to your mouth, licking a long, wet strip across it before wrapping it around his length, thumbing over the precum already leaking from his tip. Javi tilted his head against the back of the couch as you twisted your wrist, stroking his cock, letting out a hushed moan before sitting back up to watch you.

“You’re fucking perfect, Osita. I don’t deserve you.” He dug his fingertips into the soft flesh of your ass, his sweet, brown eyes locked on yours as you pressed against him, nibbling at his ear.

“You deserve everything, Javi. I could give you everything in the world and it still wouldn’t be enough.” Javi grasped at your face, cupping your cheeks as he pressed his lips against yours in a deep, intense kiss, his voice shaky and lustful as his mouth parted with yours before he spoke.

“I don’t need anything besides you, Osita. Eres mi todo. Estás todo lo que necesito. (You are my everything. You’re all I’ll ever need.) He shuttered, letting out a low groan as you continued to rub your hand along his length, Javi now reaching down to trace lazy circles around your clit before dipping his fingers inside your wet heat. His fullness made you whimper, wrapping tighter around his cock as you stroked him, now bucking your hips against his hand as his fingers curled, bumping against the spongy spot that made you lose control. “Does that feel good, sweet girl? Fuck, you’re so wet.

“Mhmmmmm.” You gasped, rapidly nodding your head as his digits pulsed inside you, your cunt already drenched, desperate to feel the fullness of his dick, despite the thickness of his fingers. Carefully, you lifted your hips, moving yourself closer to him as you ran your fingers through the soft ends of his sleepy curls. Sitting up on your knees, Javi removed his hand as he watched you hover over him, his palms roaming to your hips as you guided his tip through your folds, collecting your arousal before lining him up with your entrance. His jaw went slack as you lowered down on to him, taking your time as you savored the stretch of every sweet inch until you had bottomed out at his base.

“Fuckkk, baby.” He mewled, gently guiding his hands against your hips as you dragged yourself up along his length before headfully sinking back down, the tip of his cock bumping against your cervix with each movement. Javi nipped at your neck, trailing hot, wet kisses down your collarbone before stopping at your breasts, flicking this tongue along each of your pebbled nipples as you pushed deeper into his lap, whimpering at his touch. “My sweet girl, always taking me so well, like you were fucking made for me, baby. God, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” Javi pulled you in tighter, caging his chest against yours as his arms wrapped around the small of your back as he rested his face in the crook of your neck. “Fuck, I love you so much, Osita.” His words were desperate and needy against your bare skin, digging your fingers into his dark curls as you swirled your hips around his cock.

“I love you too, Javi. More than anything.” You moaned as felt Javi shift his weight, thrusting upwards as he buried himself deep inside you. His fullness had you digging your nails into the nape of his neck, your body melting into his with each push and pull against each other. You could feel the all too familiar tingle creeping up your legs and through the base of your spine as Javi’s hand found its way to circle around your clit, already throbbing as the curled hair around his base brushed against your sensitive nerves. The lewd noises of your moans and tangled bodies drowned out the sounds of the TV behind you, practically hearing how wet you were as Javi cock slipped in and out of your heat, his pace pounding as he punched into you. You could feel your walls beginning to tighten around him, arousal pooling in your belly, Javi knowing you were close as you whimpered into the crook of his neck. “Fuck baby, don’t stop- ahhhh- please don’t stop, I’m so close.”

“I know, baby, I know. Let go for me, Osita. Wanna feel you soak my lap before I fuck you full of me. Cum for me baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” Javi’s fingers rubbed faster along your clit as you rolled your hips, sinking yourself deeper onto his cock with each thrust, your vision going white as you could feel yourself come undone.

“Javi, Javi- fuck- Javi, Jav-ahhhhhh.” You could feel yourself gush around him, crying out his name as you reached your high, your legs shaking and fingers digging into his skin, pleasure flowing through your veins.

“That’s it, Hermosa. Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum too, fuck myself so deep inside you. My perfect girl. Mierda- Quiero que seas mío para siempre, mi amor. Solo tú, por siempre y para siempre. (Shit- I want you to be mine forever, my love. Only you, forever and always). Fuck me, I- fuckkkk.” Javi hissed as he buried himself deep in your hilt, spilling every drop of his spend against your walls. You could feel the mixture of the both of you dripping down your thighs, soaking Javi’s lap as you slumped into his body, your heart racing as the damp curls of his hair pressed against your shoulder. You both sat there for a moment, letting your chests rise and fall together in sync as you came to. “Fuck me, Osita. I could stay like this forever, baby.”

“You and me both. Although, I feel like that would make things awfully inconvenient for the both of us.” Your soft, sleepy giggles making Javi smile as he ran his fingers though the twisted ends of your hair. Carefully, you lifted yourself up, hissing at the loss of Javi inside you.

“Thank you, Osita.” Javi whispered, tenderly circling his thumb along your jaw as you curled up next to him.

“For what?”

“Just- fuck, you’re so good to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. So, I just- thank you. Thank you for being everything I need.” Planting a gentle kiss on your forehead, Javi pulled you tighter, holding you in his arms as you leaned against him.

“I’ll always be here for you, Javi. I promise.”

You hoped he knew. That he knew your words were true. That when the time came for him to open up to you, letting you into the painful past that loomed above him, that you wouldn’t run. You would be right by his side, just as you were right now.

“Well good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Javi chuckled as you twisted in the passenger seat, stretching your arms over your head, scrunching your face, letting out a lengthy yawn.

“Fuck, how long was I asleep for? How much longer do we have left? Sorry, I wasn’t planning on sleeping that long, I just wanted to take a nap for a little while we drove.” You ran your hands over your face, looking out at the bright Texas sun shining over the neat suburban neighborhood you now found yourself driving through. Javi reached over across the center console, rubbing his hand along your thigh as he chuckled to himself.

“Baby, I knew from the moment you fell asleep you were gonna be out for the rest of the drive, it’s okay. I was just worried I was gonna have to wake you up in the Murphy’s driveway.” You grumbled as you looked over at Javi, giving him a playful swat against his arm, shaking your head, now emerging from your post nap fog.

“Well if we weren't up fucking at 2:30 in the morning, perhaps I wouldn’t be so tired, hmmmm?”

Javi rolled his eyes as you poked fun at how the both of you had found yourselves last night, trying to ease Javi’s sleeplessness. While your solution had worked enough to ease him back to bed, it had now left you wide awake, wondering what had been going through Javi’s head, torturing him enough to keep him up. It had also meant that the two of you had slept in much longer than you intended, leaving later than planned for Steve and Connie’s. The two of you had quickly packed your things and hit the road, stopping to grab lunch on the way before you found yourself dead asleep next to Javi for the last hour and a half of your journey to San Antonio. With only a few minutes now left in your drive, you peered out the window, admiring the houses that lined the quiet streets of the Murphy’s neighborhood.

“This is a cute subdivision.” You smiled over at Javi, admiring the houses, charming and inviting as they were freshly decorated from Halloween.

“Yeah, it is pretty nice.” He grinned back, wrapping his palm around your thigh, giving your leg a little squeeze. He took a deep breath, his voice now shifting in tone, becoming more shaky and nervous. “Would you uh- would you, um, wanna live in a neighborhood like this?”

“Maybe. I don’t know, the houses are all really close together. I spent so much of my life in the city, and even at my house growing up, everything always felt so cramped. After coming here, especially after seeing your ranch, I don’t know, I would love to be somewhere with more space. But that’s a big ask, so, maybe one day if it works out, I guess.” You reached over, rubbing your hand along Javi’s arm, your soft smile meeting his tender gaze as he smirked, nodding to himself.

“Yeah, one day.”

Taking a last turn down one of the neighborhood streets, the two of you pulled up to the quaint two story home belonging to the Murphy’s. Turning off the ignition, Javi paused for a moment, grinning to himself as he ran the hand resting on your leg up to your face, cupping your check as his eyes roamed the length of your body, taking every inch of you in as his sweet brown eyes consumed you. “I love you, Osita.”

“I love you too, Jav.” Both of your heads tilted, your lips gently pressing against one anothers as you traced your hand through Javi’s dark curls, pulling him closer into you. You could feel his smile against your mouth as his tongue barely swiped against your bottom lip, the two of you so lost in the moment, you hadn’t even seen Steve make his way out of the house to greet you, let alone the fact that he was now standing at the driver’s side door, hands on his hips as he watched your impromptu makeout session in Javi’s truck.

“You two lovebirds want help bringin’ your bags in, or do I need to give you a minute?” Steve chuckled to himself as you and Javi shot up, hearts racing and faces going white hearing his distinct drawl and rapid tapping at the driver’s side window. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Javi placed one more soft kiss on your forehead before promptly turning around to flip off Steve and opening the driver’s side door. “You two are worse than a pair of horny teenagers, I swear.” You could hear Steve still snickering to himself as you exited out your side of the car, making your way over to find Javi and Steve in a tight hug, lovingly patting each other on the back.

“Fuck off, Murph.” Javi shook his head against Steve’s embrace, pulling away to grab your two bags from the backseat.

“Listen, I’m not the one makin’ out in my driveway.” Steve shrugged as you sheepishly emerged from your side of the truck, smiling at you as grimaced at him.

“He started it…” You glanced over at Javi, you and Steve now both giggling as he pulled you in for a hug.

“Of course he did, wouldn’t put anything past this old bastard. How ya doin’ sweetheart? Good to see the both of you, we’re really glad you guys could make it.

“She’s doing great after the hour and a half nap she took on the way here.” Javi interjected, slamming the truck door behind him, slinging both of your bags over his shoulder.

“Whatever, you meanie. In my defense, I was not planning to sleep that long, and I think Halloween exhaustion got the best of me.” You shot Javi a quick wink, trying to bite down on your lip before turning back to face Steve.

“Listen, I don’t blame ya. I’m fuckin’ exhausted after trick-or-treating with 3 kids, let alone tryin’ to keep ‘em wrangled at school all day. I love those girls, but I don’t think I could've gotten them in my parents car fast enough when they came to pick ‘em up this morning. Here, come on in, I won’t make you stand out in the driveway all day, unless you need to make out more.”

As you stepped into the Murphy home, you were greeted by an abundance of Halloween streamers and banners hanging in the living room and up the stairwell to the second floor, along with a few Barbie dolls and accessories scattered across the entryway, nearly stepping on one as you came through the door. You could smell the sweet scent of something baking in the kitchen as Connie came rushing through the hallway, arms outstretched to greet you and Javi. “Oh it’s so good to see you two, thank you so much for coming!” Connie squeezed you and Javi in a tight hug before she backed away, kicking one of the toys on the floor across the room. “Sorry about the Barbies, I told the girls to clean up before they left for their grandparents this morning but I think all 3 of them are still running on a sugar high from last night and that obviously didn’t happen.”

“Thank you so much for having us! Don’t worry about it at all, I totally understand! Javi was just telling me on the way over how much he was hoping the girls had Barbies he could play with anyways!” The 3 of you laughed as Javi rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as you gave him a smirk and a little nudge.

“Fuck, I forgot how funny she was Jav.” Steve snickered to himself, picking up one of the Barbies and tossing it across the room into one of the toy baskets along the wall. “Seriously though, we are really glad you guys could make it. Your birthday party was fun as hell, old man. Glad to be close enough to actually see each other and do stuff like this again.”

Before Javi would respond, you all jumped, startled by the sound of the kitchen timer beeping rapidly from the other room. “Oh crap, sorry, I gotta grab the cupcakes out of the oven!” Connie grimaced apologetically, making her way back to the kitchen.

“Do you need any help?” You asked, excited to spend more time with Connie.

“Oh my gosh actually if you could help with frosting the cupcakes that would be amazing. I made these yesterday for Olivia and Abby’s class parties, and I had no idea it was gonna take so long and was worried I wasn’t going to have enough time for all of them before the party! Thank you!”

“Of course!” You replied, grinning at her before following her lead to the kitchen, giving a little wave as you disappeared around the hall, looking back at Steve and Javi. “Have fun, you two.”

Steve paused for a moment until the both of you were out of sight, waiting to forcefully slap his hand against Javi’s chest, making him groan from the unexpected pain.

“What the fuck was that for, you jackass?” Javi winced, glaring at Steve.

“Where the fuck’s the ring, man?! Steve hissed through gritted teeth, looking back at Javi in disappointment. “I thought you were gonna fuckin’ do it after you got back from Chicago and met her family?! I thought everything was all good with- oh shit, did something happen with the ho-”

“Shhhhhh! You fuckin’ idiot, please, talk louder, I don’t think the people at the end of the street could hear you.” Javi looked around the corner, clenching his jaw, praying that you hadn’t heard anything from the kitchen.

“I’m not that fuckin’ loud… Shit, what the fuck happened then?” Steve grumbled, looking over at Javi with concern.

“Can we maybe talk about proposal plans somewhere that’s not right by the woman I’m trying to propose to?” Running his thumb over his balled fists, Javi’s eyes darted back and forth, staying on the lookout for your return.

“Fine, fine, fine. I’ll show you where the guest room is and then you can tell me.” Steve motioned up the stairs, Javi trailing behind with both your bags draped around his shoulders

“Was I really that fuckin’ loud?”

“…Have you heard yourself talk?”

“So how’s everything been going at work? There definitely was a full moon sometime in the past week because things were crazy at the hospital, I’m sure they had to be equally as bad at an elementary school.” You and Connie giggled as you squeezed a dollop of orange frosting onto one of the cupcakes before taking one of the little bags to pipe on eyes and a mouth to make it look like a pumpkin.

“Oh my god, I think it must have been on Wednesday, I had a boy cut another girl’s hair with scissors and then had to call another parent because her daughter bit another kid at recess pretending to play werewolves. I felt really bad we didn’t come last night, I was exhausted after our Halloween party, I fell asleep on poor Javi at like, 8 o’clock.”

Although you found yourself laughing with Connie again, you couldn’t help but shake the uncomfortable feeling you had in your gut as you thought about after you had woken up in the middle of the night to find Javi wide awake and distressed. You carefully set down your spatula, taking a deep breath before glancing over at Connie, still frosting next to you. “Hey, uh, Connie? Can, um- Can I ask you something?” Connie immediately sensed the shift in your tone, putting down her cupcake.

“Of course, honey. What’s going on?”

“Did um, did- Did Steve ever- ever talk to you? About all the stuff that happened in Colombia? I mean like, I know you were there, but I don’t know. Sorry, I don’t know what I’m trying to ask, this is probably way too personal, I-” You could feel yourself shrinking, retracting in embarrassment at your overly intrusive question, unable to finish your thought before Connie cut you off, placing her hand on your shoulder.

“Oh, honey…” Her eyes were filled with sympathy as they looked back at yours, letting out a sigh before she responded. “Did something happen?” You began to nod your head no, even though you could feel the words yes burning in your throat. You took another shaky breath, trying to hold back the tears now welling in your eyes as you spoke.

“No I mean- well, yeah, I guess. Last night, I woke up and Javi wasn’t in bed. He was out in the living room and I could tell that something was bothering him. I don’t know- maybe it was nothing. I just- when my brothers came back from active duty, there were a lot of things that kind of just went unspoken. I knew it was hard for them to talk about. Charlie handled it okay, but my brother Patrick never wanted to talk to anyone about what happened, and it just- I don’t know Connie, I don’t think Javi would ever do anything stupid like he did, but- fuck- it scares me sometimes. I know Javi’s done things that he’s probably not proud of, and I get it’s part of the nature of what his job was. I don’t care. I really don’t. People do shitty things when they’re put in shitty situations. But he never talks about it. Ever. Does… Does he not trust me? I care about him so much, Con. More than anything. I get so worried about him.”

Your tears were now streaming down your cheeks, leaving your face wet as you wiped the back of your hand across your skin to try and do some form of damage control before Connie embraced you, pulling you in for a hug, tightly wrapping her arms around you. “Oh sweetheart. Of course he trusts you. When Steve came back, he was a mess. I don’t think it really all hit him until he was finally home. I guess you’re right, it was different because I was there, but even then, there were things that happened that I didn’t know about. After begging and begging him, I finally got him to go to see someone and it really helped, but even now, there’s times where it still creeps up on him. Honey, Javi loves you so much. I didn’t think I’d ever live to see the day he was in love as he is with you. If he’s anything like Steve, he just doesn't wanna hurt you.”

You sniffled, taking a step back to wipe your nose with your sleeve, your lip trembling as you tried to keep from crying harder than you already were. “But that’s what hurts, Connie. It hurts me to think he has to keep this from me, like I’m gonna think less of him for what he’s been through.”

“I know. Have you talked to him about it?” Connie’s voice was gentle and sweet, rubbing her hand along your arm as she listened to what you needed to get off your chest.

“No… I guess I should have. I never wanted to pry. I know it’s hard to talk about, I just- I wanna be there for him Connie. I don’t want him to have to do it all on his own.” You shifted your gaze to the ground, guilt washing over you. After Patrick, you couldn’t live with the idea of letting Javi try to suffer through his past alone. You loved him more than anything- and even the slightest thought of going through anything similar to what had happened to Patrick again with Javi was almost paralyzing.

“I think the best thing you can do is to go talk to him.” Looking back up, you saw Connie smiling at you, trying to convince you that everything would be okay, even if it felt like it wasn’t. “Why don’t you go find him? Party’s starting soon anyways, you can go change into your costumes and come down wherever you’re ready. I’ll be just fine with the cupcakes, tell Steve can put himself to work frosting.” The both of you grinned as you tried to wipe your tears, nodding slowly in agreement.

“Thanks, Connie.” You whispered into her shoulder as you pulled her in for a hug before heading up the stairs to find where Javi and Steve had gone. It didn’t take you long to find the pair, hearing their voices carry through the hallway from the slightly cracked door of the guest bedroom. You were about to knock and interrupt their conversation, stopping yourself with your fist barely touching the door as you tried to make out what they were talking about.

“The offer was in fucking cash, too. I was trying to make it easier so I could speed up the process, but it’s been taking them so goddamn long to close on everything so I can finally go sign the fucking paperwork.”

“That fuckin’ blows, Jav. I’m sorry. It’s not like she knows any better, though. It’ll still be a huge fuckin’ surprise, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I know. It’s been killing me to wait this long. I just want it to be perfect, Steve. She deserves everything. Honestly, I’m kinda glad it bought me some more time. I need to find a way to get her to see it before everything’s official in case she fucking hates it.”

“Javi. She’s not gonna hate it. Fuck it, tell her Connie and I are lookin’ for somethin’ and we wanted you two to go see it for us. I don’t know, maybe that’s too obvious. Speakin’ of which, I should probably go check to see if she needs anything before this party, I’m already in the fuckin’ dog house for forgettin’ to bring the girl’s trick-or-treatin’ bags to school, I don’t need to be in trouble for anything else.”

What the hell were they talking about? What was Javi signing? Why was it taking so long? What the hell did it have to do with you? Wait… holy fuck. No way… Was he-

Before you could finish your thought, you suddenly realized Steve was making his way towards the door. You quickly rapped your fist against the wood, trying to play off the fact you had been eavesdropping and make it look like you had just unassumingly made your way upstairs, not overhearing the conversation the two were just having.

Knock, knock.

“Hey, it’s me! Uh, Steve, Con wants to know if you can help her with the cupcakes really quick.” You pushed open the door, trying your best to smile at the suspicious pair as Steve shook his head, looking back at Javi.

“It’s always fuckin’ somethin’. I don’t even know what I did wrong this time, I swear.” Steve held up his hands defensively, sliding his way past you in the doorway before heading downstairs, leaving you standing there awkwardly, unsure how to feel after your conversation with Connie and the one you had just overheard.

“Hey, Osita. How’s everything goin’ down there? Sorry, we were just about to come down and- Hey, baby, you okay?” Javi stood up, concern spreading across his face from the strange scrunch in your brow as you stared at the floor.

“Ummmm…” You froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. On the one hand, your conversation with Connie had you ready to confront Javi, to finally work up the courage to ask him about the past life he had tried his best to keep from you. But as you glanced over at him, seeing his sweet brown eyes and stupidly handsome face, remembering the discussion you had just overheard through the doorway, the other hand meant you weren’t at risk of ruining your night that the two of you had been so looking forward to, and right now, the other hand was going to have to be the one you needed to play. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good, I just- I was gonna ask you something but forgot what I was gonna say. I’m sure I’ll remember it eventually.” You smiled at Javi, neither of you completely convinced by your response. “But um, Connie said that people are gonna start getting here soon, so we can change into our costumes if you want.” A smirk slowly stretched across your cheeks as you nodded over to the black duffle bags laying on the bed.

Javi’s grin matched yours quickly, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer against him as you giggled. “You sure we’re not gonna be the only ones dressed up?”

“Well considering it’s a Halloween party and I literally just talked to Connie about what she and Steve are wearing downstairs, I’m gonna give it a pretty confident yes. Worst case, it just looks like you’re wearing a white shirt and vest, Mr. Solo. You stuck up, half-witted, scruffy looking nerf herder.” You raised your eyebrows, playfully poking at his chest. Javi paused, shaking his head at your quote, firing one right back at you as he bit down on his lip.

“You just like me because I’m a scoundrel. There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life.”

“I happen to like nice men.”

“I am a nice man.”

Javi cupped your face, pulling you in for a long, heavy kiss before backing away to unpack your bags, shooting you a quick wink as you rolled your eyes. Jesus, he even found a way to make Star Wars sexy. Just when you thought you couldn’t be anymore in love, Javier Peña never failed to find a way to make you realize you’d never stop falling for him.

After putting in what felt like the 74th bobby pin into your hair after getting the last braid wrapped over your head, you gave yourself a once over in the mirror, pleasantly surprised by how well your costume had turned out. While Javi was disappointed you were adamant you were not going as Princess Leia from Return of the Jedi and showing up in front of a group of strangers at Steve and Connie’s party in her slave costume, you and Javi both agreed that Hoth Princess Leia was definitely the next best look. Staring at you with his puppy dog eyes, Javi had been adamant about waiting with you as you finished getting ready, leaning his hip against the bathroom counter, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you finish the last of your hair and makeup.

“Okay, I think that should stay. All those years of braiding my hair for under my hockey helmet are finally coming in handy for something.” You snickered, pushing the final clip into your hair to hold it into place, giving yourself a once over in the mirror. As you looked yourself down, Javi’s eyes wandered up and down your body just as fast, practically undressing you as fast as you had put your costume on.

“Goddamn, Osita… Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“Me? Jesus Christ, Javi. You put Harrison Ford to shame with how fucking good you look. I like Han Solo better with a mustache anyways.” You licked your tongue against your bottom lip, running your hands along the muscles of his arms, straining against the tight henley shirt he was wearing under his vest. You were no better than Javi, practically having to force yourself to not look in his general direction while you were getting ready to prevent yourself from pouncing on him. But given the lack of chatter downstairs, and the impressive speed at which the two of you had gotten ready, you really couldn’t help yourself. Slowly, you let your hands begin to slip down his arms and across his chest, palming at the denim of his black jeans as he let out a deep groan.

“Hermosa…” He hissed against your neck as you grasped at the bulge now growing under his pants, your other hand now making its way down to undo his belt, the clinking of the metal drowned out by Javi’s heavy panting. You began lowering your body, sliding Javi’s pants and boxers down his thighs as his cock sprang free, his tip already red and leaking with precum. You rested on your knees, face to face with his length as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly stroking him a few times.

“This okay, Captain Solo?” You batted your lashes at him, giving him a wink before letting your spit dribble onto his cock, taking his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it. Curling your fingers around his base, you began to twist your wrist, hollowing out your cheeks as you took him deeper into your mouth.

“Oh, fuck me. Holy shit, Osita.” He moaned, tilting his head back, letting his jaw go slack as your head bobbed back and forth. He gently rested his hand along the side of your face, helping to guide you along his length as you took him deeper and deeper down your throat. “Jesus Christ, baby. Fuck, that feels so good. You look so hot, god fuckin’ dammit.” Javi’s words were labored and shaky as you started to increase your pace, wrapping your free hand around the back of his bare thigh, digging your fingertips into his leg. Feeling the pressure beginning to build in his stomach, Javi began rocking his hips, his jaw completely slack as he looked down at the sight of how well you took him in your mouth, saliva dribbling down your chin as sucked along his cock, hard and heavy on your tongue. “Fuck, Osita. I’m not gonna last much longer. Can I cum like this, baby? Fill up that- fuck- fill up that pretty little mouth of yours?””

You glanced up at him, nodding, your lips still wrapped around his dick, the motions of your head and wrist now becoming faster and sloppier as you watched Javi’s brow scrunch and jaw clench, a sign you knew all too well that he was moments away from coming undone.

“Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well. Fuck, baby- shit- se sientes tan bien, estoy tan cercaaahhhhhh-” (you feel so good, I’m so closeeeee-). The hot ropes of his spend coated the back of your throat, the salty, tangy mix filling your mouth as Javi whined, giving his hips one last push as kept your lips wrapped around him, making sure that you had milked him of every last drop before releasing. Letting your spit and his release fall from the corners of your lips, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smirking up at Javi’s blissed out expression. “Jesus Christ, Osita. You’re too fucking good at that. Holy shit. Lemme take care of-“

You held up your hand to stop him as you stood up, your gesture cutting off the rest of his sentence as you helped to pull up his jeans and boxers still resting along his thighs. “I’m allowed to give my hot ass boyfriend blowjobs without anything in return. C’mon, we better get downstairs before Steve walks in on us again.” You pressed up on your tiptoes, planting a quick kiss on Javi’s lips as he reached down to buckle his belt before the two of you tried your best to fix yourself up in the mirror to avoid the inevitable shit Steve was about to give the both of you. Giving Javi a quick nod in the mirror before turning off the light and heading out the door, he gave your ass a playful smack, making you squeal in surprise, making you turn on your heels. Resting his hand on his hip, he beamed at you, biting down on his lip.

“Fuck, I love you.”

“I know.”

The Murphy’s living room had begun to pool with guests as you made your way down the stairs, looking for Steve and Connie amongst the crowd. You and Javi both grabbed a beer from the cooler at the bottom of the stairwell, quickly turning around as you heard Steve’s familiar twang approaching behind you.

“Well I’ll be damned. You got this motherfucker in a costume? He must really love you.” Steve chuckled, shaking Javi by the shoulders. “And Star Wars too?! You asshole, how many times did I try to tell you they were good fuckin’ movies?! You shoulda dressed him up like Jabba the Hut.” You and Steve cackled as Javi rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, and what the fuck are you supposed to be? A sad pirate?” Javi jabbed, poking fun at Steve’s poorly put together costume.

“Listen, Olivia and Abby both wanted to be the Little Mermaid, so we had two Ariel’s, Con was Ursula, Madison was the yellow fish and I didn’t wanna be that annoying ass crab, so pirate it was, asshole.” Steve retorted, punching at Javi’s arm, the two of them laughing at each other like little boys. “Alright, go enjoy yourselves lovebirds, I’ll see ya in a little bit. And Javi?”

“Yeah Murph?”

“You really gotta start checkin’ your pants, buddy.”

Javi’s cheeks turned red, his eyes darting down to his zipper, still all the way undone from your activities upstairs, the both of you grimacing at each other, sheepishly avoiding eye contact with Steve as he disappeared into the crowd.

It really wasn’t a surprise to Javi how many friends the Murphy’s had already managed to make in their time since moving to San Antonio. Their house was quickly crowded with all sorts of people- Steve and Connie’s co-workers, neighbors, parents of friends Olivia and Abby had made at school, regardless of where the party goers were from, everyone had collectively agreed to make adult Halloween just as fun as any kids. You and Javi were having a great time catching up with Steve and Connie, as well as meeting some of their other close friends, one of Connie’s neighbors being an elementary school teacher, giving you two plenty to commiserate about from the hellish week it had been. It didn’t take long for the party to move outside, Steve drunkenly deciding that he needed to make a bonfire, despite adamant argument that with the amount of alcohol Steve had in his system, he was going to spontaneously combust if he got close enough to a flame. Javi, sober enough to still help his friend make rational decisions, was glad that Steve was happy to let him build the bonfire.

“The force is strong with you, Han Solo.” You giggled, Javi wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead as the two of you stared into the flickering orange glow of the fire pit.

“Not strong enough to extinguish Steve if he got close enough to it. Hey, I got shit all over my hands, I’m gonna go to the bathroom and wash ‘em off. You need anything while I’m inside, Princess?” You smiled as you nudged Javi at the nickname he had been adamant about using since you had put on your costume.

“I’m good, thank you. I’m gonna go wait over on the swingset so I don’t completely reek of bonfire later.” Javi nodded as he slid his hand down your back, giving your ass a quick squeeze before making his way through the crowd, heading towards the house. Surprised no one else had capitalized on the chance to sit down, you wandered over to the wooden playset at the corner of the Murphy’s backyard, taking a seat on one of the plastic swings, kicking your feet against the grass below.

“Hey, there she is! How goes it, Leia?” Taking a few long strides through the yard, Steve was now quickly making his way over to you, stumbling over his own feet as he somehow managed to sit himself down on the swing next to you. You tried your best not to laugh at Steve’s drunken state, but his current antics weren’t making it very easy on you.

“I could ask the same to you. You doin’ okay there, pirate?”

“Fuck sweetheart, I’m doin’ fuckin’ great. Where’s the asshole?”

“Inside, I’m sure he’ll be back out soon.” You snickered at Steve watching the beer dribble down his chin from the overly confident swig he had taken.

“Good, I don’t need ‘em right now. You were the one I was lookin’ for.” Steve pointed in your general direction, but clearly wasn’t aware enough to hit his target head on.

“Me?” You laughed, pointing back to yourself.

“Yes, you. You talk to him yet?”

“About?” You paused, wondering if Steve had any inkling of the conversation you were planning to have earlier, or if he was drunkenly deciding you and Javi needed to discuss something else.

“You know about what. I talked to Connie earlier. I figured I owed it to you to come talk to you about it, too.”

Your heart began to race, that uncomfortable feeling once again beginning to churn in your stomach as you thought about the things you and Connie had discussed earlier. “Steve, you don’t owe me anything, I-”

“No, I do. Hold on a second.” Steve turned away, letting out a hearty burp, pouding on his chest before facing back towards you. “Sorry, I’ve been holdin’ that in for like 10 minutes, I needed to let it out. Anyways… What was I sayin’? Oh shit, yeah, the grumpy bastard. Listen, sweetheart. I know it’s gonna fuckin’ suck, but you gotta be the one to bring it up and talk to him about it. If I know anything about that motherfucker, it’s that he will bottle things up for way too fuckin’ long until someone gets it out of him. He’s a good guy. He says he’s not, but he is. Saved my ass more times than I can count. That job made us do some fucked up shit neither of us are fuckin’ proud of. But that doesn’t mean he gets to keep it from you. I swear to God, that asshole is so fuckin’ in love with you, it makes me sick. You make him so happy. He just doesn’t wanna fuck up the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”

You weren’t sure if it was the right thing to do, but in that moment, all you could manage was to reach over to the swing next to you, pulling Steve in for a hug as you tried to keep your tears from staining his shirt. “Thanks, Steve.” You whispered, leaning back into your seat, using your sleeve to wipe the wetness from your cheeks.

“I know you love him too. You deserve to know. Don’t let him be a stubborn jackass to you, okay? I’m bein’ serious. I should be the one thankin’ you though, honey. In all the years I’ve known him, I never thought I’d see ‘em this happy. I promise I won’t get this drunk at your wedding.” Steve winked, straining to push himself up out of the swing, somehow managing to catch his balance as he stumbled into the grass.

“You do make a very inspirational drunk, Steve.” You laughed to yourself, looking up at him with a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Alright, enough sap, I’m gonna go get another fuckin’ beer, I’ll see ya around okay?”

“Okay, maybe a water would be good for you, too.”

“Water’s for pussies.”

“Water’s good for people who don’t want raging hangovers tomorrow.”

“Pirates are always drunk, so I’ll be fuckin’ fine.”

“Whatever you say, Steve.”

It didn’t take long for Javi to return, easily spotting his tall, broad body making his way through the crowd, beaming at you as he walked over to the swings. You tried your best to smile back at him with the uneasy pounding in your chest quickly building, feeling your heartbeat in your throat. “Hey, Hermosa. Sorry it took so long, I ended up stopping to get another drink on the-“

“Do- Javi, do you trust me?”

Your words were quiet and blunt as they rolled off your tongue, your eyes peeled on your feet kicking through the grass beneath you.

Javi’s brow immediately scrunched in confusion, completely off put by your question and demeanor. “Do I- Baby, what are you talking about? Of course I trust you? What’s going on?” Setting down his drink, he began making his way next to you in frantic, worried strides.

“Then why won’t you talk to me about it?” Your eyes darted from the ground up to his, his sweet brown eyes swirling with confusion at the firm tone of your voice and desperation growing across your face.

“Talk to you about what? Hermosa, what’s going on? Is everything ok-”

“Why won’t you talk to me about Colombia?”

Javi took a step back. He wasn’t sure if it was out of defense, or absolute shock from the words that had just fallen out of your mouth. He stared at you for a moment, his jaw locking as you could see how hard he swallowed, trying to bide his time as he calculated his response.

“Osita… It’s not that simple.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t understand why we’re talking about this. Baby, if this is because of last night, you don’t need to worry about me, can we please just drop it?” The two of you faced each other in an unspoken standoff, Javi’s hands now resting on his hips as you crossed your arms over your chest. You had tried so hard to be patient, but in the moment, it was like all of your frustration was beginning to boil over.

“That’s exactly why we’re talking about this, Javi. Because I fucking worry about you. All the time. I’ve tried so hard to be patient. I’ve never, ever tried to get you to talk about it because I know it’s fucking hard. But last night, you’re up at 2 A.M, wandering around the apartment, and I’m begging you to tell me what’s wrong and you won’t fucking do it. I’m not an idiot, Javi. I can’t live in this weird in between space in your life where you pretend your past doesn’t exist when I know it still fucking haunts you. Why won’t you just talk to me about it?”

Javi could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his palms sweating as they clenched in tight fists at his sides. He tried so desperately to find an answer, something, anything he could tell you to try and justify his choices. The choices he had kept from you. The choices he couldn’t forgive himself for. “Because, I- fuck- because, goddamnit, I just- I was a terrible fucking person, okay? The things I did, they were-”

“What? Fucked up? Painful? Shitty? Of course they fucking were, Javi. You were literally in Colombia chasing down Pablo Fucking Escobar. What did you think I thought you were doing down there? Filing away paperwork? You don’t think I know that you did things you regret? That you’ve hurt people? Made choices that hurt innocent people who didn’t deserve it? I know Javi, I fucking know. I watched my brothers come back from the same goddamn thing. I tried so hard to give them space, to let them come to terms with the fucked up things they did on their own, and you know what fucking happened? One of them’s fucking dead because of it. I can’t let it happen again. I don’t care about what you did. It doesn’t make you a bad person. But you can’t try and hide it from me and pretend like it doesn’t exist. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. But I can’t if you don’t trust me. Please trust me. Please. I love you so much, Javi. I can’t lose you.”

Javi stood in silence, as the both of you fought the tears streaming down your cheeks. He wasn’t sure if he had just been hit in the gut with a giant sucker punch, or if the weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders. He truly didn’t know how to feel. He wasn’t even sure if he had heard you correctly. Did you really just tell him that you knew about the fucked up, terrible things he had done and that you didn’t care? That you still fucking loved him? All you wanted was for him to trust that you wanted to be there for him? He could feel his hands trembling and lip quivering as he tried to find the words to speak.

“Osita… I- fuck, baby. Osita, I’m so sorry. I trust you with my fucking life. You- You don’t deserve to have to deal with with all the fucked up things I’ve done. I don’t wanna scare you away, baby. You’re the best thing that’s ever fucking happened to me and I was so terrified if you found out about the terrible person I used to be, you’d leave. It’s not fair to you, I can’t expect you to carry the weight of all the fucking things I’ve done, too. I’m so sorry.” Quietly, Javi sat down next to you on the empty swing, burying his hands in his face. Gently, you reached over, pulling his hands away, forcing him to look at you.

“Whatever you tell me isn’t gonna scare me away. I promise. The only thing that’s gonna scare me is when you try to pretend you’re okay when you’re not. Javi… Javi, I just- I just wanna be there for you. I don’t want you to have to do it alone. I’d do anything for you. I trust you more than anyone. You’re my best friend. I just- fuck- I just want you to trust that I’ll always be there for you to. I promise.”

And just like that, the last brick holding up the wall between you and Javier Peña collapsed. There was nothing left to run from. Nothing left to hide. After he returned home, he was a changed man. He had hated the person he had become. Maybe there was a part of him that didn’t want to be loved, because he didn’t believe that he deserved to be. But then, there was you.

You.

You had taken everything he had known and changed his life for the better. You had become his better half, the person he loved more than anyone in the world. You had proved he was worthy of more than just existing- you had proved to Javi that he was worth the love and happiness you had promised him from the moment you had come into his life and made it worth living for.

“You promise?”

“I promise. Always.”

The way Javi grabbed you and wrapped you in his arms, grasping at the back of your shirt as he pulled you in tighter, feeling the hot breath of his silent sobs against your shoulder told you everything you needed to know. You didn’t know much, but if there was one thing you did know, it was that you loved Javier Peña more than life itself. As quickly as it had felt like your life had fallen apart, he had come into it and picked up the broken pieces to put it back together. And on an October night in San Antonio, sitting on an old wooden swing set in the Murphy’s backyard, you hoped that Javi knew that you would always be there to pick up the shattered parts of his past, too.

You weren’t sure how many hours had passed as you sat hand in hand in the swings with Javi as you listened to anything and everything he had to say. Long after the backyard was empty, and the bonfire had faded to embers and ashes, and the only one left awake besides the two of you was Connie, trying to drag Steve back inside from the plastic lawn chair he had passed out on, you finally made your way up to bed for the best sleep the two of you had in a very, very long time. Your goodbyes to the Murphy’s had been short and sweet- Connie exhausted from the late night, and Steve barley coherent from how hungover he was, you were still both so thankful the two of you had made the journey out to see them, and the both of you, just as grateful for the sweet and supportive life long friends you knew the Murphy’s would become. Most of your drive back to Laredo was spent in a comfortable silence, the golden sunrise spilling through the windows of Javi’s truck as you cruised down the highway, Javi’s hand never leaving yours, your fingers intertwined together as his thumb gently rubbed against your soft skin and your head rested against his broad shoulder.

“How are you feeling about seeing your mom today?” You asked, lightly squeezing his arm as you smiled up at him, now exiting off the freeway quickly approaching the cemetery where you planned to meet Chucho to celebrate Día De Los Muertos, trying your best to comfort Javi as he prepared to see his mom’s gravesite for the first time since her funeral almost a decade ago. Javi let out a quiet sigh, his grip tightening just a little tighter around your hand as he looked over at you, a surprisingly calm look flooding his face.

“I’m actually doing okay. Better than I would have thought. I think I was always so worried that she wouldn’t be proud of me and the man I’d become after she was gone. I um- I finally think that she’d be proud of me now.” He glanced over at you, his smile soft and tender as he soaked in the reason for his pride sitting right beside him.

You noticed Chucho’s truck as you pulled up to park along the edge of the small cemetery, Chucho excitedly waving you down as you both hopped out of the car. Walking around to Javi, you were quick to grab his hand, giving him a reassuring grip as the two of you made your way through the gravestones along the thin cobblestone path towards Chucho, already arranging the items he had collected for Lucia’s ofrenda.

“Hola, niños.” Chucho grinned, wrapping his arms around the both of you. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Thanks for letting me be a part of today, Chucho. I know… Well, I just- I’m really honored to- just, thank you.” Chucho wasted no time pulling you into your own hug, his rough and worn hands holding you by the shoulders as he looked at you with misty eyes.

“Mija, I should be thanking you. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t know if we would all be here today. Lucia’s last wish to me was that I would promise to make sure Javier was happy. Now hija, I think my sweet Lucia can rest a little easier knowing someone else has already fulfilled my promise for me.” As the two of you spoke, you hadn’t noticed as Javi had quietly stepped over to his mother’s gravestone, crouching next to it, his fingers delicately tracing along the engraved letters of her name, his other hand holding one of the marigold flowers Chucho had brought with him. The two of you watched quietly as Javi sat next to his mom, gently placing the flower on the shiny stone as he spoke.

“Hola, mamá. Te extrañé. Siento haber tarado tanto.” (Hi mom. I missed you. I’m sorry I took so long). Javi’s voice trembled as he took a deep breath in, slowly exhaling as his hand rested on the stone, warm from the sun, shining brightly in the blue November sky. “Que estaba asustada de de verte porque estaba orgullosala de la persona en la que me había convertido. Que no quería decepcionarte. Tenía miedo mucho, mamá. Me sentí como si todo se derrumbase. solo quería olvidar. Pero entonces…” (I was scared to see you because I wasn’t proud of the person I’d become. I didn’t want to disappoint you. I was so scared, mom. I felt like I let everyone down. I just wanted to forget. But then…). Javi turned his head, seeing you and Chucho, arm in arm, a smile growing across his face as looked back at the two people in life he loved the most. He took an extra moment to stare at you and the soft grin spread between your cheeks, basking in the comfort and warmth of the woman who had forever changed his life for the better. “Pero entonces, mamá, La conocí. Que es perfecta. Nunca supe que podías amar tanto a alguien. Ella es lo mejor que me ha pasado. La habrías amado.ella es una maestra, tambien. A veces me pregunto qué ve en mí. No sé qué hice para merecerse. voy a pedirle que se case conmigo.Cuidaré bien de ella. Ella se merece todo lo que le pueda dar y más. Espero que estés orgulloso de mí, mamá. te echo mucho, Pero le juro a usted, al fin soy feliz. Te amo, mamá.” (But then, mom, I met her. She is perfect. I never knew you could love someone so much. She is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You would have loved her. She’s a teacher too. Sometimes, I wonder what she sees in me. I don’t know what I did to deserve her. I’m gonna ask her to marry me. I’m gonna take such good care of her. She deserves everything I can give her and more. I hope you’re proud of me, mamá. I miss you so much, but I promise you, I’m finally happy. I love you, mom.)

With a gentle nudge from Chucho, you softly stepped behind Javi, gently placing your hands on his shoulders before he rose up and you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest as he wiped away the tears welling behind his eyes. Staring down at Lucia’s gravestone, Javi ran his hand through your hair, carefully planting a kiss against your head and burying his nose in the soft waves of your hair.

“I wish I would have had the chance to have met you, Mrs. Peña. I would have had someone else to commensurate with over all of the crazy teaching stories I’m sure the both of us have. Maria, Estelle and Linda all miss you a lot too, but I’m sure they haven’t changed a bit. Thanks for raising such a good son. I don’t know what I would do without him. I know he says that he doesn’t know what he did to deserve me, but I really think it should be the other way around. I promise I’ll look out for him.” You tried your best to smile through your soft sobs, looking up at Javi, tears streaming down his wet cheeks. It wasn’t long before Chucho had snuck up behind you, patting each of you on the back before smiling down at Lucia, too.

“Estos dos están tan enamorados, Lucia. Tal vez más que tú y yo. Ella es una buena chica. Estoy muy contenta de que ella sea parte de nuestra familia. Finalmente tendremos a nuestros nietos, también.” (These two are so in love, Lucia. Maybe even more than you and I. She is a great girl. I am so happy she is a part of our family. We are finally going to get our grandchildren, too). Chucho winked, nudging Javi in the side, forcing him to laugh through his tears, shaking his head at his dad’s comment. “Now, no more tears, you two. This is a happy day. Your mamá is smiling down on you, and I can almost hear here scolding me to keep you from crying anymore. C’mon, let’s decorate and eat, I even brought pozole.”

The three of you spent the next hour decorating Lucia’s grave with bright orange and gold cempazuchitl (marigold flowers) and little Calaveras (sugar skulls) painted in bold colors and refined details, sharing and laughing about Javi’s favorite memories of his mother while snacking on the Pozole Chucho had brought to share. For the first time in a long time, Javi no longer felt guilt and grief when he thought about his mom- her memory filled him with love and joy. He wasn’t the same bitter, broken man he was when he had said his final goodbyes to his mother all those years ago. While he wished he could change the past, the reality of the present, and his future finally brought him peace, knowing he could be proud of the man he had become, thanks to you.

As Javi helped Chucho to clean up the extra flowers and decorations he had brought, you couldn’t help yourself from reaching at the wrinkled photo you had shoved in your pocket as you had packed up to leave from the Murphy’s this morning. You carefully took it out, holding it gently in your hands as you tried to uncrinkle the edges. “You ready, Hermosa?” Javi called out, now a few steps ahead of you, making his way back towards the truck. “Hermosa?” He asked again, thinking perhaps you hadn’t heard him the first time. When he was greeted by silence again, he looked back to see you staring at the crumpled photo in your hands.

“I um- I know that he isn’t buried here, and uh, if you don’t want me to, it’s okay- but um- is it, is it alright if I leave a couple flowers for Patrick?” You sniffed, a tear dropping down on the photo of the two of you, Patrick holding you in a headlock as you laughed with a wide, toothy grin, drowning in one of his old Blackhawks jerseys that you were so excited to wear because it belonged to him.

“Of course, Osita. Of course it is.” Javi smiled at you softly, turning back around with the tub of leftover decorations, making his way towards you. Quietly, you walked back over to Lucia’s gravestone, carefully setting down the picture of you and Patrick next to it, putting a few marigolds over top of it so it stayed pinned in place from the warm breeze.

“I miss you, asshole. You deserved so much better. I hope you don’t still think that I hate you. I mean, I do, but you know what I mean. Honestly, you were lucky you didn’t have to live through the Blackhawks losing in the playoffs this year, that fucking sucked. Mom and Dad and Charlie and David all miss you too. I finally went back home to see them. It still wasn’t the same without you there, but I know you don’t hurt anymore. I hope that you don’t hurt anymore. I love you, Patrick. Crack open a cold one up there for me, okay?” Trying your best to not to uncontrollably sob, you sniffled, wiping the tears running down your face as you leaned your head against Javi’s chest. He ran his hand along your back as he held you tighter, letting you take a moment to get everything out before you took a deep breath, nodding your head as if to signify to Javi and yourself that you were okay.

“You okay, Osita? We can take all the time you need, baby.” Javi whispered, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder.

“No, I’m okay. I just- I wanted to do something for him, too. Thanks, Javi. I love you.”

“I know.”

After several more long hugs goodbye with Chucho, you and Javi began your journey back home, marveling at the beautiful sunset, painting the sky with bright pinks and oranges and the warmth and comfort of Lucia and Patrick’s presence. You were so lost in thought staring out at the fading sky, you hadn’t even noticed that Javi had detoured from your usual route home until he had said something to you. “You okay if we make a quick pit stop on the way home, Osita?” You nodded, smiling at the golden glow covering his face. It wasn’t long until you were veering off the main road, Javi turning to make his way down a tree lined gravel pathway with a “For Sale” sign posted in front of it.

“For sale?” You questioned, looking over at Javi before peering out your window to watch the trees lining the path pass by you as the gravel crunched under the truck’s tires.

“Yeah, uh- I was talking with Steve at the party yesterday and he- uh, one of his buddies said he was looking to get out of the city- wanted a plot of land to build on. Said he had heard good things about Laredo but didn’t have time to go check things out for himself, so I told him I would go take a look around and let Steve know what I thought.” Javi replied, trying his best to sound nonchalant as you shrugged before looking back out the window. As you reached the end of the path, the trees opened to reveal a beautiful, lush green field, the sun setting perfectly along the rolling hills of the horizon in front of you. Turning off the ignition, Javi gestured for the both of you to get out of the truck so you could go take a look around.

“Jav… This is beautiful.” You marveld, grinning as you took in the beauty of the open space drenched in golden sunset.

“You like it?” Javi grinned, laughing as you spun around, the gentle breeze blowing your hair in and out of your face.

“Oh my God, yeah. Tell Steve’s friend to get on this place ASAP before I scrounge up every penny I have and sell one of my kidneys on the black market to buy it from him. There doesn’t even need to be a house, I’ll just lay in the empty field, perfectly content.” You giggled, letting out a happy sigh as you grabbed Javi’s hand, leaning your head against his arm as you admired the sun slipping away below the horizon.

“I’ll take that as a yes then. He said he’s wanting to build a house here, do you think- do you think that he would think it’s got enough space? It’s not too far from everything? I know it’s a little farther from downtown and a longer drive to work- if uh, if he works by where we do, you don’t think that’d be a problem? For him?” Javi squeezed back, trying his best not to stumble over his words.

“Are you kidding me? It’s literally perfect out here, Javi. Could you imagine getting to see this every night? He better put some big windows on this house so he can get all of the sunlight, oh my god, it would be so pretty. It’s not even that far from everything, and the view makes the extra drive time worth every minute. I know it’s probably a far way off, and we haven’t really talked about it, but I would love to live at a place like this someday.”

Javi smiled to himself, looking down at you as you rested against him, soaking in every ounce of you as he shifted his arm to wrap around your waist, gently rubbing his thumb along the soft hem of your shirt before letting out a content sigh.

“Yeah. Me too.”

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @blackfemalenerd

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hypermoyashi · 2 months ago

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Hello, Trigun fandom! Recently, we ran a server exchange event on the Pen Pals discord server, where everyone made something for everyone who signed up! I wanted to promo all the works that were created for this event, as everyone really went above and beyond to create something amazing for it.

I want to thank everyone who contributed, and for making it a wonderful event to run.

Please check out the works created by our wonderfully talented members! And be sure to check to ao3 itself for any additional warnings and tags that may be relevant.

to new heights by @beesinspades for @nexadarling: 2k | G | Livio & Razlo

Razlo stiffens, fighting the urge to rip his hand away. Only reason he’s not shaking her off is because she’s holding on so tightly he might snap her little wrist. Don’t wanna deal with angry parents and bills Livio will insist on paying with the money he just earned. That, and it turns out when one does honest work, hurting clients doesn't bring more jobs. (They won’t be welcome in Voldoor for a while.) (Bastard deserved it, though.)

The Phantom Pain by legendofthesevenstars for @fish-ears: 3k | G | Livio & Wolfwood, Razlo & Wolfwood

Livio and Razlo deal with an unexpected haunting at the orphanage.

Oh, let the suns beat down upon my face, stars to fill my dream by @spectre-writes for @hypermoyashi: 10k | T | Tesla & Vash, Luida & Tesla, Brad & Tesla | CWs: Mild Body Horror, Disability, Trauma

Tesla dreams that she dies. It must be a dream, because it doesn’t last.

Frosted Snow Trees by Plumerias_of_BlueMaroon for @spectre-writes: 10k | G | Meryl & Vash & Wolfwood & Milly | CWs: Chronic Pain

Weather fluctuations were common on No Man's Land, tending mostly towards heat, and less towards anywhere close to cool during the daytime where two suns bore down on the planet's heat-reflecting sands. However, on occasion, there were times where cold could descend unpredicted by anyone. That is to say, anyone human. Among the many items of Lost Technology that the crashed colonies had lost, so was the knowledge that plants, of all things, tended to be incompatible with the cold, and actually fell into a sort of stasis that resembled, faintly, the concept of hibernation. But who would ever think to remember that on a desert planet? Even Vash hadn't known, not to this extent.

blossoming by @markcampbells for Plumerias_of_BlueMaroon: 5k | T | Milly/Vash, Milly & Vash | CWs: Referenced Transphobia

"Can I ask where you're taking me?" she asks softly. "I know I found the place for the mochi ice cream, but you said it wouldn't be just that…" "Well, of course not. Just dessert wouldn't be a proper night out. I wanted tonight to have all the trimmings." He puts on a goofy smile, just for her. "We're almost at the restaurant, so I'll let that speak for itself, but after—it'll be a light meal beforehand, so I thought maybe you wouldn't mind—would you like to go dancing with me?" Following their getting to know each other better, Vash and Milly go on their promised night out for mochi and many other things besides. A followup to lend a friend a hand.

We Get Through by @nexadarling for legendofthesevenstars: 2k | T | Meryl & Milly & Vash & Wolfwood, Milly & Wolfwood, Vash & Wolfwood

“I had it under control,” Vash yells, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. “You didn’t have to–” “Like hell you did!” Wolfwood interrupts. “You even had the girls involved, and I was supposed to, what, just let it–” Vash pokes a finger hard into the center of Wolfwood’s chest. “I wouldn’t have let anything–” “You know, and a ‘thank you’ would be nice every now and–” Wolfwood’s mouth clicks shut as a gunshot rings out in the clearing. Wolfwood watches over Vash’s shoulder as Milly’s shoulder jerks back, as she falls with a scream, hand curled around her arm. Milly gets shot. She also takes it better than pretty much anyone else.

A Good Feeling by @hypermoyashi for @bendycxmet: 5k | T | Vash/Wolfwood, Vash & Meryl, Meryl/Milly | CWs: Misogyny, Heteronormativity, Amatonormativity

Vash, as the princess's personal guard, is meant to ward Meryl from physical threats during the ball; too bad most of the threats aren't physical ones, with Meryl forced to deal with the expectations of high society and Vash not able to say a word. Thankfully, a chipper princess comes to her rescue.

Deck the Malls by @bendycxmet for @markcampbells: 6k | T | Vash/Wolfwood, Meryl/Milly

Especially with the hustle and bustle the holidays bring, Vash and Wolfwood were two much-needed seasonal hires for the fashion shop. And who was Wolfwood kidding, he also thought of this job as an excuse to hang around Vash more often, to see his boyfriend and sneak kisses in the stockroom throughout the day, breaking apart when they would hear the incoming echoes of Knives’ loafers or Elendira’s heels on the tile floor.

And then finally!! @tea-n-shade did some wonderful artwork for @beesinspades based on their fic for the event!! Please go take a look at the artwork, as well!

#trigun #fic recs #art recs #discord server events #vashwood #millyvash #merylmilly #platonic polygun #wolfwood&livio #livio&razlo #wolfwood&razlo #tesla&vash #luida&tesla #brad&tesla

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itsmedemibones · 1 day ago

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I Choo-choose You week

Day 4- Date

Okay oops. I'm not as happy with this one for some reason, so please have the relevant excerpt from my WIP Ingo/Reader fic.

Flustered Ingo tooth-rotting-sugary fluff under the cut.

The Tracks We Take

The park is peaceful this time of day, the golden glow of the late afternoon sun filtering through the trees, casting dappled light across the grass. Your Pokémon play nearby— Darumaka happily chasing after Duosion, who bobs along, unbothered by his antics, like a bubble on the breeze. Ingo’s team roams, enjoying the open air, though his Excadrill sits in the shade, half-buried in the dirt, content to rest.

You're leaning back on your hands, legs stretched out across the large blanket Ingo had brought. It's peaceful. It's almost hard to imagine that you had both been so nervous for this. It's your first date, but it feels… right. Easy. The wind ruffles your hair and you breathe in a deep, content breath.

And yet.

For the last few minutes, you’ve watched Ingo, seated beside you, slowly become more tense. His previously loose posture has become rigid and he's fidgeting with a blade of grass, brows furrowed as he stares intently at the ground.

He wants to say something.

You know him well enough to see the signs. It's in the way his shoulders keep tensing, how he inhales as if to speak, only to stop and exhale again, silent.

You wait, giving him time. There's no rush.

But after his third failed attempt, you take pity on him. You shift a bit closer, brushing your hand lightly over his. The contact startles him, and he flinches slightly, grass falling to the blanket.

"Ingo," you say gently. "Whatever it is, I promise there's nothing you could say that would make me love you any less."

His breath catches.

Slowly, he turns to look at you, his expression unreadable– stunned, maybe, like he hadn’t expected you to call him out on his hesitance.

Then he swallows, and you see the tiniest twitch of the muscle in his jaw as he gathers his courage.

"Y/N," he says, his normally booming voice almost hushed. "I... I wish to ask you something that has been weighing on my mind."

You nod, moving your hand to slowly, deliberately squeeze his. "Go ahead."

He inhales deeply.

You're not sure what you expect. You're already past declarations of love. He's asked you on a date. What could he still be so–

"I wish to know… what you have imagined about me."

Your brain stutters to a halt, shocked at the sheer boldness of the request coming from Ingo of all people.

He looks— Oh. He looks like he might faint just from the mere thought that you've imagined him at all.

You remember the day you confessed that you love him. How Emmet had casually teased Ingo, asking how the real thing compared to the (many, many) nights he apparently lay awake imagining you doing so. How Ingo had felt so terribly embarrassed, thinking it indecent to imagine such things without your consent.

Your lips part, then close. You bite your lip realizing you aren't sure how to answer.

You take a moment, studying him. The tightness around his eyes. The way he stares at your hand on his, as though it’s the only thing keeping him tethered. The way his ears are a furious shade of red.

And you understand.

He wants to know, but he’s also terrified to know.

So, you take your time, twining your fingers with his. You can feel how warm he is, how his fingers twitch against yours, how he’s bracing for an impact that will never come.

"Ingo," you murmur, smiling softly. With the level of tension, you do have to wonder… "Would you like me to tell you the safe things I’ve imagined, or… or the scandalous ones?"

He– whimpers.

That's the only word for the strangled sound that espapes his tight throat. Quickly, he looks away, free hand coming up to press against his mouth as if that will somehow contain his mortification.

But he doesn’t let go of your hand.

And that?

That tells you all you need to know.

—Ingo—

Ingo swallows, staring at the blanketed ground between you both as he struggles to find his words. He shouldn’t have asked. Arceus, what had possessed him to ask?

You are patient. You always are. You squeeze his hand gently, steadying him like an anchor in the midst of his spiraling thoughts.

"Alright," you say at last when he still does not answer. Your voice is warm, reassuring. "I'll start with the innocent things."

He exhales slowly, tension in his shoulders easing slightly. It is not everything you have imagined, but it is… some of it, and perhaps he can handle that.

"I've imagined us doing things like this," you say softly, gesturing to the picnic spread. "Spending time together, talking, sharing meals. Just... being. I’ve imagined holding your hand while we walk through Gear Station, or bringing you a coffee while you work. Maybe lunch, during a busy day."

His breath hitches. That is– that is something he had not realized was a possibility. You, in the place that matters to him most. You continue on, seemingly unaware of the impact your words are having– he feels unsteady on the tracks. At risk of derailment.

"I’ve imagined you letting me borrow your coat when it's cold, because I know you’d do it in a heartbeat."

He clears his throat, trying not to sound as flustered as he feels. "That is… correct."

He glances over. Sees your pleased grin, and the sight of it makes his heart stutter.

"And sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I imagine what it would be like if I could just rest my head against you. If you’d let me. If you’d want me to."

Ingo has no idea how to respond to that.

He tightens his grip on your hand instead, holding on to your warmth like a lifeline.

"Y/N…" he says, but nothing else follows.

He feels you lean in slightly, toeing the line of too close as your expression turns playful. Turns– knowing.

And then, in a voice so soft it barely exists, you whisper…

"But Ingo, I have also imagined kissing you."

His body jerks.

His mind goes utterly blank.

The words should not be scandalous. He should not be this affected. But he is.

It is too much.

Yet it is perfect.

He grips your hand tighter. Not exactly in panic. He just– cannot let go.

You watch him, waiting. Giving him space, giving him time.

"I just thought you should know," you say, so, so gently. Then you lean out of his space, as if you have not just derailed his engine entirely. "Now, do you want another berry skewer? Or should we go check on the Pokémon?"

Ingo does not know how to answer.

He cannot answer.

All he knows is that he is still holding your hand, and despite everything, despite how overwhelmed he is… he does not want to let go.

#my art #pokemon #submas #subway boss ingo #self shipping #my fic #pokemon oc #reader insert #ingo/reader #ingo x reader #y/n you sly dog #good god i hope i finish writing this fic some day #ichoochooseyouweek

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auncyen · 6 months ago

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SO WHEN I STARTED Sif having a bad King fight and then freezing (which lead to Isa and Mira being sad), I'd. kind of wondered where that left Loop, and that's like the one part I wanted to get to, even if I don't plan on writing past that.

Loop is...not doing that great. I'm still figuring out how exactly this conversation would go (Odile wasn't planned at first LOL) but yeah there's a lot of "UM":

You got better. You got to leave the infirmary, though they still wanted you to stay in the House itself for a bit, just in case something happened, rather than being all the way out in the clocktower. You didn't mind, because you felt you needed to be here.

Sif wasn't getting better. They were still frozen on the highest floor of the House. You started helping M'dame with the research she was doing in the library, including the secret library after Euphrasie entrusted her with the knowledge. She raised an eyebrow when you started skimming through tomes and summarizing the chapters aloud to judge if you should give it a closer look, put it back on the shelf, or put it in the 'maybe' pile--only tangentially relevant to healing Craft or Time Craft, but sometimes writers do go on illuminating tangents. "I, uh, used to be a huge nerd," you muttered, because it didn't feel like the time to hide your smarts when Siffrin needed a cure.

Odile looked surprised for a few seconds. "Interesting. I'd wondered."

"You'd…wondered?"

"You're the only man I've ever heard sound smarter with three drinks in him. I'm curious, but it's fine if you don't want to talk about it. We've business right now, anyway."

You did indeed have business. Unfortunately, it was a bust; none of the books you found had an insight into healing a powerful Time Craft curse that M'dame or Mira hadn't already considered. Mira looked increasingly tired and miserable by the day, and at the end of the week Bonbon came in the House to visit Sif and came down yelling because someone had left flowers at his frozen form and that wasn't right, it wasn't right, because Frin was going to unfreeze and be greeted by dead flowers and that would suck, and if someone had left them flowers the way you would at a grave that was even worse because Frin wasn't dead. Bonbon was very clearly more worked up at the idea of Sif being considered 'dead' than Sif waking up to see dead flowers, but you promised them that yeah! You'd tell everyone to wait to give Sif flowers until they were able to appreciate them again. Because of course Sif was going to be able to appreciate flowers again.

You didn't want to think about the other possibility any more than Bonnie did.

The four of you were all stuck in a painful limbo. The Housemaidens and townspeople didn't seem to know if they should treat you as heroes to be celebrated or glass vases ready to shatter, and as much as you tried to smile you felt increasingly brittle. It was kind of a relief when a new issue popped up: there was a stranger at the Favor Tree.

So, strangers usually weren't a problem. Most strangers are nice! Accepting the change that strangers may bring is a key part of the Change faith!

…Most strangers, even if they had different ways of dress and custom, still looked…well. People weren't sure if the stranger was even human? According to the scattered descriptions, they had a human-shaped body, but the skin was like the night sky stuck over the House when it was frozen, and on top of the body was not a head, but a spiky orb radiating light. Some people were scared the stranger might not be a person at all, but some new kind of Sadness left over from Vaugarde's ordeal, or even the King's creation, since…well, yeah. He'd pinned the night sky over the House while he was controlling it. And he'd had stars on his armor. And the night-sky stranger was lurking at the tree, hiding, which unnerved people once they noticed the new and unusual presence. One of the kids had gotten bold enough (he'd been dared) to approach the tree anyway, trying to call out the stranger to talk, and had gotten frightened by an inhuman voice snapping at him to go away. So. Even if this was a human stranger who'd done extreme Body Craft beyond what anyone in Dormont knew to be possible, they were a rude human stranger who'd decided to take over a town's Favor Tree.

…That was the best case scenario. At worst, they were something created by the King.

You decided that as an ex-Defender you were probably the most qualified to have a talk with the stranger and try to figure out who (or what) they were, why they'd taken over the Favor Tree, if there was an alternate arrangement you could work out… or to take them on if they proved hostile.

M'dame decided you were under no circumstances to do this alone, regardless of how well you'd been feeling lately, so she was accompanying you to the Tree. Which you had no complaints with! M'dame was good backup. You got to the base of the tree, standing under its crown. You didn't see anything yet, but the small handful of townspeople who'd seen the stranger had said they'd always ducked behind the tree or had already been hiding behind it, allowing only glimpses of them. They must have already hidden. "Hello, stranger?" you called. "I'm Isabeau, a Defender from Jouvente. Well…ex-Defender, but, um! My colleague and I would like to talk with you?"

"So now we're colleagues?" Odile murmured to you, smirking even as she scrutinized the tree ahead of you.

"Well!" You lower your voice, flustered. "That's how I was used to approaching people on the job."

"I'm teasing, Isabeau."

You know, you know. It still flustered you.

…Although the lack of response was quickly growing more concerning. "Stranger?" you called. "Are you there? Can you talk?"

Still nothing, except for the faint sound of grass being stepped on, like someone was shifting their weight. Odile huffed. "You go right around the tree, I'll go left--"

"Go away!"

You jumped at the voice. The kid's description really hadn't done it justice, mostly because it was inhuman, crackling in a way you'd never expect from a human throat. But after the brief shock, you moved to stop Odile from going around the tree. "M'dame, wait."

"What?"

"I think they're scared." The way the kid had described it, the voice had been threatening, but the kid had probably already been scared himself. Underneath the strange crackling, the intonation, the way the pitch had wavered… it sounded like the stranger was panicking. You didn't want to make that worse; you might force a confrontation where none was needed. "Listen," you said, raising your voice again. "You don't have to come out right now if you don't want to, but we still need to talk. Okay?"

"…Fine."

"First things first, are you all right?"

"That's your first concern?" The crackling voice was tight, almost sarcastic.

"Um, yeah?" It was now. "Look, people have been getting worried about you hiding out here, but… it's not like you've been trying to scare anyone, right? You've been keeping to yourself."

"I didn't mean to scare that kid. I haven't scared anyone else, unless people are scared of beautiful stars!"

So the stranger…didn't consider themself a person, but a star? Like in the sky?

"People are, in fact, a bit wary of strange stars after the King," Odile pointed out, which! 100% true!! But not something to point out right now!

The stranger immediately got upset, the crackling in their voice sharpening. "So, what, the King has a monopoly on stars now? Isn't he dead? It's not like you beat him with the power of friendship. Oh, King, I'm sure there's a reason you're doing this! We don't have to fight!" The stranger scoffed. "I know that didn't happen."

"The King is dead," Odile confirmed. "You didn't know?"

"You think I can just walk into town and ask questions looking like this?"

You and Odile looked at each other. Some of the tightness left Odile's posture. "They're acting scared," she said, and you knew from that word choice she hadn't ruled out yet the possibility that it was only an act. But she was willing to give the benefit of the doubt for now. "Isabeau, you're better at this, you talk to them."

…Well. Hm. They didn't seem all right, but they also hadn't answered straight when you asked about that. Maybe they weren't ready to talk about themself yet. "If you've got any other questions, we can try answering?" you offered. "I'm Isabeau, he/him, and M'dame Odile uses she/her."

"…They/them for me."

Odile arched an eyebrow. "But no name?"

"No, my turn for questions!" the strange voice said, but then it fell silent for a moment. Were they still scared, or struggling to think of any? You folded your arms and waited, not wanting to rush them. "You're…two of the Saviors. Is, um, the Housemaiden--Housemaiden Mirabelle okay?"

The question made Odile frown. "Why do you ask?"

"It's a little strange that you came out here to talk to me without her, if you thought I might have anything to do with the King. Not that I do!" the voice said quickly. "Good riddance."

"Three-on-one would be pretty intimidating," you point out. That's exactly the reasoning you would have told Mira if she'd asked to come along, too… but the truth is, she didn't know you were out here. Even though her long quest was done, the stress hadn't disappeared, and Siffrin's condition wasn't helping anyone. You hadn't wanted to toss more on her plate. "We were hoping for a nice talk! Anyway, she's fine." Burnt out, but time would surely help.

Time, and Siffrin getting better.

"And the kid traveling with you? They're fine too?"

They knew about Bonnie? "They're fine too. We kept them away from the fighting."

"I know, but--" The voice stopped abruptly.

"You know?" That…was kind of odd, especially with how quickly they'd shut up, like they hadn't meant to let it slip. You'd reassured more than a couple people that Bonnie didn't actually fight with you, was only tagging along with your group because even if they weren't old enough to fight they were old enough to decide where they wanted to be and they'd made it very clear they'd chase after the group if they were left behind. So the star could have learned that secondhand, but that seemed unlikely if they were afraid to approach people with their appearance. Along with the slip, it made you wonder… "Did you, um. Did we meet you before the Body Craft? …Is that Body Craft?" You cringed a little. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but--"

"It's okay. I, uh, I've been told how I look right now."

You immediately felt a pit open up in your stomach. They hadn't seen for themself how they looked? There was no way this could be Body Craft, then, at least not the way you knew it. No one in their right mind would Body Craft themselves without being able to track the process. But 'right now' implied there had been a Change. Odile had caught that too, her expression torn between wariness and alarm.

#loop #odile #isabeau #in stars and time #in stars and time spoilers

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pixeltwix · 3 months ago

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{McGucket Family Tree}

I did promise to extend my lore and story for Fiddleford just as I did for Emma May in this post, buuuut for today I’ll be doing a more general Fiddleford family post without diving into his life in depth (I swear I will get to it eventually though. Today will just be small details and their designs :P )

The McGucket family definitely gives off ‘weirdo’ vibes. They’re a well known family in the town, but they always have a bizarre aura about them that sets them all apart from the rest

Bobbie Jean, his mother, and Arlo, his father, settled a bit later into a family than most others would in town, but their patient natures only brought about a very loving family

Blanche is the first born followed by Fiddleford some years after, but now you may ask, ‘why doesn’t anyone else have a goofy name?’

Per McGucket family tradition the first born son is always to have an unconventional or silly name, otherwise it’ll bring about bad luck. The McGuckets are very superstitious people after all!

To play off the weirdo vibe and unconventional energy of the family though I feel all of the McGucket kids have something about them that keeps them apart from most others

Blanche isn’t interested in romance or relationships despite the towns folk gossiping and calling her a spinster for her age

Fiddleford is exceptionally smart and capable of things beyond average comprehension

Lenore is artsy, independent, and favors women over men. Thankfully her parents would never force her into a marriage and protect her at home

Darla is the sweetest kid you’ll ever meet, but her anxiety is 10x worse than Fidds, speech not easy for her even with her own family

Huck is the second born son, but definitely not a farm kid. He detests everything about it and has tried on many occasions to set the pigs free

And then Sally has zero filter, enough said on that. She wastes no punches verbally and struggles to make friends on account of it

But then of course there’s the newest lady in the McGucket family, Emma May. I could talk for hours about her, but joining the family wasn’t exactly the smoothest transition for her

Growing up in a very unorthodox setting with cult influence she was unused to being welcomed into a home where kindness was given without strings attached

The McGuckets were more than happy to help her understand this though and even happier to learn about the woman who managed to steal their (usually socially inept) sons heart

While poor as the McGucket family is I imagine their family home has been with them for generations. Naturally as the family grows so too must the house. I’d imagine their place looks a bit of a mess with all the steady added additions to the house and barn, but it’s all so chaotically organized and right it difficult to not be endeared

While the main house is packed and lovely most of everyone spends the majority of their day out working the land and taking care of the animals

Thankfully they are not alone as the family is quite extended and equally generous and kind

There are plenty more men who have fallen victim to the silly name tradition that the McGuckets have, but the two closest in age to Fiddleford are the most relevant

Thistlebert and Diddsley were really his only friends aside from his siblings growing up, but really these two already felt like older brothers anyway

Thistlebert has an affinity for ‘saucer people’ always curious of alien life even if he doesn’t have the intellect of Fidds to understand it

Meanwhile Diddsley acts as more of the enthusiast for chaos. Always encouraging Fiddleford when they were kids to make the next big thing for them to wreak havoc with. Be that mini pig robots or tractors that can go over 80 mph, he was always the first to give suggestions

Like I said, this will not be the post where I hyper focus on Fiddleford himself, but to conclude I’ll simply say- The McGucket family is literally so silly

Like they’re all very capable and hardworking people, but they will find time to be fun and enjoy their lives without being serious all of the time

In a way it helps them cope with the conditions of their lives and the struggles that they realize most likely will never go away

But despite that every generation becomes more and more optimistic, Fiddleford’s literal dream to be that he an make enough money to provide for his own family one day

#gravity falls #the book of bill #book of bill #gravity falls fandom #emma may dixon #gravity falls oc #gravity falls fanart #fiddleford mcgucket #fanart #oc #young fiddleford #gravity falls thoughts #tate mcgucket #fiddemma

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nomoreusername · 1 year ago

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My Glue

Pairing: Newt x female reader

Summary: When your brother is killed in the maze Newt is still by your side to support you.

Being a Runner was practically what I was meant to do. Since I first showed up and laid my eyes on the maze I wanted to go in. Being a girl wouldn't stop me from that. That part's extremely relevant to mention because I just so happen to be the only girl here. Of course, just like everything in this place there are a few other details that make it different.

When I came up in the box I had a faint memory of some of their faces. I even knew a few names before they were told. That's probably how I figured out tho my brother was here. While a few Glader's were suspicious of me, which I guess isn't the most uncalled for, when they saw that we're basically the spitting image of each other it sort of became accepted.

We were close. He was my best friend and one of the most important people in my life.

That changed though. The day started out normal. I woke up, had breakfast, got packed for the day, said goodbye to Newt, and was off. That's how it should have remained. Nothing about that was supposed to be different.

On that day though everything was. I left the maze on time along with every other Runner.

He didn't though. Now he's dead, and I'm in the Glade barely holding it together. Of course, there isn't a lot of time for people to notice that I'm breaking. I barely even can because I am always doing something. I'm always running or trying to make myself better. If I can't then I'm asleep.

It's always there though. In the back of my mind the feelings will forever taunt me. I don't even know what to call it. I just know it makes me want to lay on the ground and never get up.

It's Greenie night now, and instead of being with the people that care about me I'm hiding in the Deadheads. Even though I safely could and want to I don't have the energy to cry.

As I laid there and stared at the tops of the trees I heard footsteps. Realistically I knew I should move. I know that I physically can. At the same time I also can't. There's this weight on my body that's forcing me to stay on the ground.

"Hey love,"Newt greeted, stepping towards me. I turned to look at him. He wore a small smile that almost gave me this bittersweet feeling. Despite it being so dark here I could still see the way it shine brighter than any star ever could. Usually, that would be all I needed to get through the day. Making him laugh just so I could see it used to be at the top of my to-do list.

Nothing is now though because there isn't one. As long as I run in the maze that took my sibling from me then nothing matters.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"He offered, taking a seat next to me.

"No,"I admitted.

"Okay. Do you want to talk about anything?"He asked in that same voice that's smooth as honey and causes me to go weak in the knees. That was different now too though. He always sounded softer and just a little quieter.

"No,"I repeated.

"Okay love. That's fine,"He said, putting a hand on my shoulder. I laid my head on his lap and tried not to think about anything that exists, did exist, or even might. I didn't want to think about anything right now. I'm a way I don't think I was. Physically, I'm right here. Mentally, I'm a thousand miles away.

"Do you know what you do need right now?"He asked, now gently running his hand through my hair. I took a minute to try and think, but nothing came to mind.

Thankfully, he knew me well enough to know what my silence meant because he assured me that I didn't have to answer or even talk.

"Thank you,"I whispered.

"Of course. I'm right here Y/N. No matter what,"He promised.

I knew that I had to believe him. He was the glue that kept me together. Whether that included smiling until my cheeks hurt and laughing until my ribs were sore, or just being the reason I kept going, he was the reason for it.

Newt means everything to me so all I can do is be grateful he's here. I don't think I could handle losing him too.

#newt x y/n #newt x reader #tmr newt #newt tmr #one shot #the maze runner #tmr #fluff #light angst #hurt/comfort

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thefadingstars · 2 months ago

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Talldeer

The daughter of Rushstar and Graydawn.

Her littermate is Stagstomp.

Now that we have gotten into the regular cats, I'm probably not going to write a paragraph about each of them. Unless they are going to be a cat you see a lot during the early parts of the story or are main characters (who you will be meeting soon I promise). I don't want to spoil important story beats and ideas I have. So I'll probably just do family trees when relevant and little blurbs here or there. And I'll put their clan emblem in the background.

#fadingstars #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats inspired #my art #warriors oc #cat #feral #swift clan #talldeer

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its-in-the-woods · 8 months ago

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Coyote Head - Part 4 - Dinner with Family

master list

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Pairing: Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean

Alternative Universe where I make things up cause I can

Synopsis: Sit down at a family dinner, and sleeping in are good for Lucy for now

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning: Animal/people death, blOod/G0re, nightmares, Alternative Universe, Slow Burn, Death, Aging, Family Feuding, Eventually: Older Man/Younger Woman, Horror themes, long form fic,

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. So you have been warned. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

The gravel crunches under the tires as they all pull in, kids in the back jumping over seats as Lucy and Cooper open the doors. Old trucks parked in the drive, besides Margie’s new SUV. One thing about Harris: he always made sure Margie had exactly what she wanted.

The sprawling log home stands proudly among a mix of pine, poplar, and spruce trees. The home had been built from the trees on the property, a red tin roof on top. Big wrap-around porch that had equally as large windows on each side. The place was a carefully crafted piece of art that the Maclean’s had built many years ago. Long before the land was farmed, logged, and changed to what it currently was. The Maclean was an old family, and many of the log homes in the area were built by the family. It made Lucy miss the log home she had grown up in.

Inside the home, a smell of fresh bread, and chatter of laughter echoed in the living room. Margie standing in the kitchen popping bread onto metal racks. Two large dishes of lasagna sat out, a big caesar salad in the middle. Lucy’s second cousins Tracy and Bert were over with their spouses Reg and Stephanie respectively. Their six kids hang out in the big living room with Cooper’s two. Some elaborate game of cards was going on, what the rules were was anyone’s guess. Seeing the kids laugh and giggle at their made-up game made Lucy’s heart swell. She had never thought of herself as a Mom, life and whatnot; but something about being around the littles always made her wonder about the ‘what if’s’.

“How can I help, Aunty,” Lucy asked as Cooper went and started putting plates out on the dining table. She watched the man move, he was both graceful and room-filling.

“Well don’t touch any of the cooking, 'cause we want it to be edible,” Margie jokes, Lucy smiles. She’d never been much of a cook. Lucy, Norm, and their Grandparents had lived off many frozen meals during planting and harvesting. Shirley could cook fine, but her cooking took time and a whole lot of cutting. In the winter it was stew, roast squash, baked potatoes, and local corn. Lucy had never had much time to learn to cook.

“Well now that I am round more, maybe you can teach me a few things,” Lucy smiles at her Aunt helping her to place each dish on the big dining table.

“Better make sure I got the ‘tinguisher on hand, maybe a few extra blankets,” Margie jokes some more, winking at Lucy. She meant no harm, Lucy had burnt just as much food as she had undercooked it in her time.

Lucy chuckled, grabbing glasses and a few pitchers of juice. The place was set up, some budded willows graced the center of the table. Getting the kids to sit was another matter, but the promise of haskap pie and ice cream had them in their places. Harris said grace as was a custom, Lucy noticed that Cooper, who had sat beside her, didn’t repeat the words. She didn’t have much thoughts on religion, Grandpa Tim had always read the bible before bed, usually sitting at his dining table flipping through the rice paper thin pages, while he jotted down notes in a big notebook. You’d never see him at church. Nor would you see him preaching to anyone. He never even really talked about it with her either. She couldn’t remember Grandma Shirley mentioning it either. On bad days she would sit with a rosary, light a candle or two. Lucy had never really thought it odd till now. Their whole family had always gone to church, but not them.

The wooden house was full of loud voices, laughter, and the click of knives and forks. It was the most lively Lucy had felt in a long time. Even despite the little to no sleep she had gotten. Cooper was telling stories of wrangling cattle and bison in the south. Harris was talking about fighting fires in the north, running machinery right into blazes to save houses. The large meal of lasagne and fresh bread was mostly picked over. Some vanilla ice cream and fresh pie are being served now. Tracy was bugging Margie about getting the recipe from her. Her Mom teased about how it was nothing but store-bought. Everyone at the table knew that was a whole load of scabbie potatoes.

“So what did you all see along the forest line,” Harris asked, wringing his hand, as coffee and tea were placed on the table.

Cooper and Lucy had scooted down the table to sit closer to Harris. Lucy’s cousin doing the same so that all the adults were more huddled for any story.

“Ahh well we saw a few things out there,” Cooper says, voice strained, looking back at Lucy for input.

Lucy put her spoon down a little louder than she intended, the adults turning to look at her. She felt like a bird caught in a cage, trying to find its way out.

“Sorry,” Lucy said, “We only got about half of the place looked at before we came.” Lucy wondered how she could explain what they had seen. “There was a stump stripped of all its barks and -” She looked to make sure the kids couldn’t hear,” There was a fresh coyote head sitting on top of it.”

Silence fell at the last words, the others exchanging looks. Lucy’s stomach-turning, the image of the poor critter’s head on a slab was not a favorite. Her mind wandering back to the shadows she had seen less than twenty-four hours ago. Was it all connected somehow?

“We didn’t get close to it. So we kept walking to where the ATV trails are and, umm, we saw some tracks or maybe an animal digging” Lucy looks over at Cooper, hoping he could maybe explain what they had seen a bit better than she did.

Cooper digs his phone out, “Yeah these,” He flips open his camera and pulls up the photos. The phone is passed around to each person. Uncle Harris pulls out his reading glasses zooming in on the picture.

“How big are these tracks?” Harris asks, looking up over his glasses. Concern filling everyone in the room as they looked back at the two.

Cooper looks at the man, furrowing his brow as he thinks, “Maybe a foot and a bit? Maybe less”

Lucy nods, “Center is probably twice the size of my fist, and at least as long as my forearm and hand. Maybe a little wider where the three points are.”

Stephanie looks it over, her eyebrows raised. “Can you send me this Cooper? I know a few folks in fish and wildlife that can take a look. Maybe come out and look at the head?”

“Yeah, I can send the photos,” Cooper replies, turning his phone off and putting it in front of him.

“If y’all want to come over that’s fine, the place is a little bit of a mess.” Lucy sighed, fiddling with her fingers, “But, if you think you might have an idea what it is, I am all ears.”

Stephanie looked over at Bert, who had gone to pick up a very sleepy-looking toddler, “What do you think honey?”

Bert smiles, clearly not having heard much of what has been said, “I am sure we can figure something out, maybe we should talk to–” He ponders for a moment, looking for the name, “ Betty, right?”

“Yes, Betty would know. She’s been around her longer than the dirt,” Stephanie grins back at Bert grabbing the little one out of his arms. “Unfortunately I think we got to get our kiddlets back home. Lisa here is exhausted, and Thomas has school in the morning.”

Margie is up out of her chair, “Let me grab a pie for tomorrow,”

Tracy has come back from putting on some cartoons for the kids, some ridiculous jingle now covering up their conversation. Reg rubs her back as she sits down,

Bert comes out of the living room with another sleeping child, an older boy who has drool and snot running down his face. “Lucy, make sure to get our numbers from Harris. So we can keep in touch.”

Lucy nods, “Yeah that’s a great idea, I will keep you updated if anything pops up.”

Bert and Stephanie wave goodbye as they make their way to the front door with a large bag of various foods from Margie. Margie coming back into the kitchen, she goes into a cabinet and pulls out a bottle of whisky along with several glasses.

Tracey clears her throat, “Do you think it could have been a person? Maybe? Trying to scare you off the land or some such thing?”

Sighing Lucy happily accepts the glass of whisky from her Aunt, “Besides those tracks, and the coyote head. Everything is pointing that way.”

“Maybe there is a reason Uncle Tim didn’t want the forest around his land messed with,” Tracy added her hand covering Reg’s hand, as she looks at Lucy, an unreadable expression on her face.

Harris coughing at the head of the table, everyone turning to look at him.“I doubt Lucy would mess with anything Tim had.”

“Nope, haven’t really ventured into the forest much at all. But that might have to change. Make sure no one has been coming onto the land without my knowledge.” Lucy spoke, it was always in the back of her mind that someone could be hiding in the woods without her knowledge. The place was mostly fenced, but would only stop honest people.

“Do you think someone is camping on the land?” Tracy asks, looking at her relatives. Taking her glass from Margie and sipping on it.

“Don’t know about that, didn’t see any signs of anyone walking around.” Lucy sighs, looking over at Coop when his thigh touches her. She pushes back against it, letting a small amount of comfort in.”Know that Henry was not happy about me getting the land. None of them were happy actually.”

“Henry has the money. Probably hiring someone to scare you off,” Margie added, her brows knitted together, as she brought some tea to her lips.

“Well he can do what he likes, not much is gonna stop me stayin’ there,” Lucy says, her fingers rubbing over the rim of the glass. If someone had asked her that question several hours ago, she may have had a different answer; but right now, in the safety of her Uncle’s home, she felt confident she could say.

“Besides you got us, we'll make sure that no one will mess with ya,” Cooper adds, rubbing one hand over her shoulder. Lucy really wishes he would keep his hand on her.

Lucy nods her head, it was reassuring to know that she had all of them on her side. The table going silent for a moment as they sip their drinks. The sun was nearly down, bathing the room in a soft golden light. Lucy trying her best not to let her mind run over the whole day again. She could feel her own exhaustion tugging at her mind.

Reg let out a yawn, Tracy rubbing his arm. “We should probably get our own rugrats, go to school, and all that.”

Tracy nodded, “Have Sunday dinner this weekend? You both should come over too,” She nods to Cooper and Lucy.

Lucy, put her cup down, nodding her head, “Yeah, I would like that, be nice to have regular get-togethers.”

“That would be wonderful,” Reg says, scooping one of his kids up. “Maybe once things have calmed down we can come by. The kids always loved Uncle Tim’s farm.”

“Uncle Tim’s dead,” Reg's son spoke from behind his leg. The little guy peering up at Lucy. The kid had silver blue eyes, and nearly white-blonde hair, standing just below his Dad’s hips in height. His eyes were wide as he blinked a few times, tears forming.

Cooper ducks down beside him, “Hey, Kiddo. It’s okay.” The little man let out a muffled sob as Cooper scoops him up, the little kid hanging off the adult.

“Oh sweet Freddy. Got all the big emotions and nowhere to put him.” Tracey coes, before offering to take him out of Cooper’s arms. “Time for sleep.”

Lucy felt her stomach turn as she watches the family of six walk towards the front door. It was hard to see the little guy upset over the loss. It made her uncomfortable not knowing how to help him. Little Freddy was still crying against his Mom’s hair, the three older girls filing behind. They all had brown hair, and brown eyes, all looking to be a few years apart. The older two could have almost been twins. Hugs were traded and promises of Sunday dinner were planned before the clan took off into the night.

Coop comes over, covering his two kiddos with a blanket and turning down the cartoon jingling away. He came back, his hand running over Lucy’s shoulder before sitting down.

“Probably should be going soon too,” Cooper sighs, having another sip of his drink, “Make sure Mom and Dad are okay.”

“How are your folks doing?” Margie asks, adding a bit more to his glass and Lucy’s.

“Dad’s rough, Mom-” Cooper shifts in his seat, looking down at his glass, the dark look crossing his face again. “She’s doing the best she can considering. Doctor says maybe a year or two.”

Harris rubs at his eyes a little, Lucy watching him compose himself before speaking, “Whatever you need, you let us know." His voice shook a bit as he spoke, "I know your family is tight, but we all need to look after each other. We are all family here, okay?”

Cooper nods a tight smile on his face, “Thank you, Sir. I really appreciate it. We can use all the help we can get.”

Lucy reaches over and squeezes his hand, “ Like you said we are just a phone call away.”

***

Waking up soaked in sweat was the last thing that Lucy wanted to do. She was bolt upright in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, with the fading nightmare of headless corpses hanging from trees dancing in her vision. Deep ragging breaths echoed in the small space, and the familiar sound of frogs and crickets echoed outside the open window.

“You are in your Aunt and Uncle's house,” Lucy breathed out, closing her eyes and taking a sharp inhale. “It was just a dream, there is nothing coming to get you.”

Flipping a layer off the bed Lucy felt around for her phone, it was four-thirty in the morning. In a few more hours the sun would be up, and the world would have light again. She grabbed a sip of water, turning off her phone, and trying to get comfortable. As her eyes closed the visions of the bodies danced into her mind again, like some kind of horror dance party. Groaning, she rolled over, willing the images out of her mind.

“Happy thoughts, Lucy. We cannot lose any more sleep over this,” Lucy murmured, trying to come up with something more soothing. An image of Cooper staring at her, popping into Lucy’s head. Her eyes shot open, her face going pink. "How old are you, Lucy."

She thought about it for a moment, was it really the worst thing that she could think of? Yes, the man was older than her, had kids, and had lost his wife. Lucy cringed at the last thought, she rubbed her forehead. What was she doing, lying here thinking about a man she barely knew? Who had flown to her aid, and stood beside her despite the dead animal head in her backyard.

Rubbing her eyes Lucy debates getting up or letting her half-asleep ass dream about someone who wasn’t interested in her. Remembering how he had leaned his knee against her, rubbed her shoulder, and let her hold his hand as he talked about his father.

“Ugh, stop. No more death. At least for this instant,” Lucy mumbles quietly into the empty room, trying not to let her thoughts spiral out of control.

Closing her eyes she decides to indulge herself a little, after the mess she had gone through what was a little fantasy. Letting herself think about them walking through a not haunted forest, maybe holding hands, going camping with the kids. She didn't hold back the smile as she let herself drift, after all, it was only a dream.

***

A knock on the door awoke Lucy out of a dead sleep, she blinked at the light shining around the window. Her fuzzy brain trying to put two and two together, remembering where she was. How she’d gotten there and why someone would be waking her up.

“Lucy, sorry to wake you,” Aunt Margie calls, her voice just loud enough to hear through the wooden door.

Grabbing her phone she realized it was past ten in the morning. She cussed, upset that she hadn't set an alarm last night. Normally she would have been up at the latest eight, groaning as she sat up, swinging herself onto the edge of the bed.

“I will be out in a few Aunt Margie!” Lucy calls out, grabbing her clothes. Once again shaking her head at forgetting something fresh. Oh well, she'd have to change at home, and a good shower too. The thought of hot water spurred her on, as she groaned, body stiff from the long sleep. Setting the bed, she grabs her phone and races out the door. Margie stands at the counter, a fresh pot of coffee in hand.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” The woman smiles at her, handing her a cup of hot coffee. Before going over to the stove. “I got coffee and put on a couple eggs for you.”

“You are too kind to me, Aunt Margie,” Lucy replies, eagerly grabbing the hot cup of coffee. “I am so sorry that I slept in. Usually, my alarm goes off automatically.”

Her Aunt waves a hand, scooping eggs and toast onto a plate for her. “Nonsense, I am so glad you were able to sleep in.” She hands Lucy the plate. Going around the counter with her cup of coffee to sit at the makeshift bar. “I have a feeling you haven’t been sleeping well.”

Lucy sat down using her toast to break the egg yolk and dip it in. “Oh boy, that would be an understatement. I don't really know why, but, I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night.”

Margie sat down beside her, eating her own toast with jam. “Nightmares?”

Lucy nods as she works on swallowing her food, “Yes, actually, how’d you know?”

Margie hums for a moment taking a sip of her tea, looking out towards the tree line outside. “Oh you know, new house, moving back from the city. Can take a little getting used to is all.”

Something twinging in Lucy, as she watches her Aunt. She sips on more of her coffee, trying to will the feeling away, why would her Aunt not be honest with her?

“Yeah, I am sure that’s it,” Lucy says with a fake smile, as she finishes up her food. “I should probably be on my way-” The realization that she didn’t have a vehicle hitting her. “Oh, I didn’t bring my own car.”

“Oh, Cooper said he’d come by and pick you up,” Margie says, somehow the tension is leaving between the two of them.

Lucy blinks a few times, wondering if she could possibly walk back home. “Oh, he didn’t need to do that.”

“I think he was looking forward to it if I am honest Lucy.” Margie winks at her, “The man has been alone, with his kids and dying Father for six years. I am sure he enjoys getting to spend some time with another adult that isn't family.”

Trying to choke down some more coffee to hide her face, it is most certainly bright pink. “Yeah, I don’t mind the company.”

Margie gives Lucy a knowing look, raised eyebrows and all. She goes to speak when a knock on the door stops her. She squeezes Lucy’s shoulder as she goes to get it. Lucy sitting a little straighter in her chair as she hears Cooper’s voice.

“Hey,” Cooper says, he almost looks nervous, fiddling with his hat in his hand. “Was wondering, if you’d be okay if we went to check on the cows this morning before I bring yah home of course.”

Lucy smiles back, she can’t help herself. Getting him all flustered was going to be a new favorite pastime of hers. “Yah, pretty sure I owe you on that one.”

Part 5

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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lostinforestbound · 11 months ago

Text

Happy 100 followers! I can't believe there's 100 of you so interested in my silly little writings, I am so so grateful! As promised, here is a little fic of comforting Rolan! I wish we were able to hug him in game, but this will have to do!

Rolan/M!Tav

You're Not Alone, You Will See

Tav swears Rolan hasn't slept in their shared bed for weeks at this point, and he's getting very concerned for him. Why won't he sleep? He needs to find out or he'll collapse where he stands.

Word Count: 3.3k (AO3)

Relevant Tags: Explicit, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Tav's POV, Mentions of Lorroakan

NSFW under cut, Minors DNI

Night has long been spread across the city of Baldur's Gate, where the world is now asleep. Silence carries along the perfect night; no wind rustles the trees or whistles along the windows, no banter of drunken patrons fighting in the streets, and the sky is clear, letting the stars bloom.

The world is asleep, all except for Tav and Rolan.

Bored out of his mind, Tav stares at the ceiling as the moonlight shines through the large windows of his and Rolan's shared bedroom. He can't sleep at all, because once again, Rolan is not in bed with him.

Rolan's side of the bed is very cold when he feels around it, the sheets and blanket are not ruffled by one hair. He didn't even sit on it today, which is already concerning in itself. He knows his lover has been busy, being the new master of Ramazith's tower, but what could he possibly be doing this late at night? What has his mind so consumed that he couldn't lay with his partner after a long day? He knows Rolan has been having difficulty sleeping as of late, but this is getting ridiculous.

So with a small huff, he sits up, bones popping quietly in his shoulders and back as he stretches. He’ll have to go find him in the depths of the tower, it seems.

Shuffling out of the bed, he finds his red robe to get into, not wanting to shiver in the cold air inside their home. The robe was a gift from Rolan, thrust into his hands by him after lecturing the hero about only walking around in his undergarments. The indecency, he cried! But Tav saw how flustered his face was during the berating, and he did his best not to laugh at Rolan's embarrassment.

A fonder memory of Rolan that makes him smile, even if the event was only a few weeks ago. He slides on the slippers Rolan gave him as well; they're high quality and incredibly soft. They came with the robe, Rolan saying the floors are dirty, and why in the hells is he walking around barefoot anyways?

Laughing lightly at the memory, he finds a short candle on the bedside table and lights it up; he doesn't want to walk anywhere too blindly. He exits the room, walking down the long hall as he thinks where Rolan could be. There is no reason to be too worried, but he is nonetheless. As much as they made this tower their home, including Cal and Lia who have their very own section in the tower, he has noticed Rolan being...closed off. Not on purpose, and not in front of him or his siblings, but there's something about the tower that makes his lover a bit uneasy, and he can guess the reason why. He sees the way his mood shifts when he thinks he's alone, staring in the general direction where Lorroakan used to reside.

It doesn’t take long to find him, in the middle of his study hunching over his desk. From what he can tell, he’s looking at a few papers along with a book; but he’s staring at it as if it’s a new language that needs years to decipher, a sense of absolute dread in his posture. There’s clear exhaustion on his features, dark circles under his eyes as he rubs at his temples as if that would get rid of his current headache.

This has been happening for weeks after Lorroakan’s death. Time and time again he’s reorganized tomes, cleaned the space, put in new furniture, and even got an entirely new bed for them both. It never seemed enough. He could never tell Tav why it wasn’t enough. He didn’t have the words to describe it.

But Tav does vividly remember waking in their bed, seeing Rolan's pillow torn into by his claws while the man slept. It quickly got replaced, but he refused to acknowledge and talk about it, so Tav left it alone.

Now here he is, slaving away to understand the same tome he was trying to decipher for three nights now, doing everything he can but actually sleep in his own bed.

As Tav slowly approaches, he wonders if he’s doing this to himself on purpose. Is there something haunting him? Why does he torture himself so?

He makes his steps louder to make sure Rolan is aware of his presence before putting his free hand on his shoulder. He feels his shoulders tense under the touch before relaxing, not protesting when a thumb lightly massages the base of his skull. “My love, is this book so important that you can’t join me in bed?” He asks, leaning in close by his left ear to examine the papers.

“It’s been three nights, and I can’t figure it out.” He murmurs, sounding more defeated than he’s ever heard. It makes Tav’s heart hurt, knowing that he’s struggling.

The papers strewn about confuse him as he takes in their contents; Rolan's notes make absolutely no sense. His writing is erratic and unfinished as if every thought was abandoned for a new one in rapid succession.

He puts the candle down on the desk and leans against his lover's back. “Maybe, just maybe, it’s because you’re tired?”

He huffs in annoyance, rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and index finger.

“Rolan, you haven’t been to bed in weeks. I’ve seen you sleep in odd places. The doorway, the desk, the floor…what’s going on with you?”

He sees the way Rolan bites his lip, golden eyes trailing the pages in front of him but not truly reading them. His lover opens his mouth as if to make an excuse, but nothing ever comes out. While he's distracted, Tav gently folds a blank piece of paper that he finds in the mess on the desk, tucking it on the page Rolan's currently on and shutting the tome.

“We don’t have to talk about it now, just come to bed.”

He starts to protest with a clenched jaw, almost insulted by it as if the book is more important. “But- This is-“

“Rolan, please? I miss holding you.” He whispers, kissing the back of his head.

He sighs heavily, exhaustion setting deep into his bones as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Fine.”

The scowl on his face softens as Tav pecks his cheek, encouraging him with a pull of his hand to stand up. He does so without a fuss, hand oddly tight around Tav's.

Tav sees Rolan wince at the echo of their footsteps, and part of the action disturbs him. He's never seen him shrink so much at a sound, and he wonders what is going on inside his head. For him, he picks up the pace a little, pretending he wants to go to bed badly.

He kisses the top of his hand before settling on top of their bed. Rolan looks as though he's about to make an excuse to not lie down, so he spreads his legs and speaks up, "Let me give you a massage."

"This time of- why?" Rolan questions incredulously.

"You're slouching. You might have some tension. Let me?"

After some reluctance, he settles between Tav's legs, and Tav begins to press his thumbs between his shoulder blades. The amount of knots he finds is almost amazing, and part of him wants to chastise Rolan for letting it get this bad, but now is not the time. For every knot, he carefully kneads the bundle until it's completely gone before moving to the next one. Sometimes Rolan's tail flicks in irritation, most likely at the temporary pain, before it falls limply when the knot fades.

He's unsure how much time passes since it's already deep into the night, but eventually, he makes it through all the knots he can. Rolan is relaxed back against his chest, and he sees the rise and fall of his own with his slow breathing. Without thinking, his hands slide to the front of his chest, feeling along the ridges that decorate it. Rolan's breath stutters under the caresses, the tip of his tail flicking back in forth as it slaps against the bedding. He smiles against the skin on the back of his neck, trailing his hands over the soft swell of his stomach and to his groin. He palms the growing erection, making Rolan inhale sharply, and he worries that he misread what Rolan wanted.

That was until Rolan grinds into his hand with a shuddering sigh, eyes half-lidded with a flush forming on his tired face. “Please,” He begs quietly, eyes weary.

How could he say no?

He looks so beautiful like this, even with the exhaustion on his features.

"Lay down," he whispers.

As Tav gets out of bed, Rolan complies by scooting down to lay against the pillows, getting comfortable. Confusion paints his features when Tav grabs an extra pillow and puts it under his hips, but the unspoken question dies on his tongue as Tav kisses him. Their lips easily glide together, and Tav takes his time removing his clothes during. Rolan just lets him do all the work. In all honesty, he looks too tired to do much. Based on the nervous look when he pulls away, it seems he's worried that it'll turn Tav off, but he gives him a reassuring smile as he shucks off his robe and undergarments.

Rolan obediently opens his mouth for Tav when he leans to kiss him again, letting his tongue slide in and tangle with his. He feels Rolan wrap his arms around his neck, keeping him as close as possible as Tav explores his mouth, running his tongue along the sharp teeth that adorn there. The first time they'd kissed like this, Tav cut the muscle on the teeth, and Rolan immediately pulled away when he tasted blood. He couldn't kiss him like that for a while and he idly wondered if Rolan would have not reacted the way he did if Tav was also a tiefling.

Enough of that, he's getting distracted.

Rolan spreads his legs as Tav grabs a vial of oil from the side of the bed, uncorking it with his teeth and pouring it onto two fingers. Rolan instinctively tenses when he feels a finger gently massaging his entrance, but never breaching. Circling it one, twice, three times. Tav always had to tease him a little bit, but he gently kisses his brow as he finally sinks into him by the first knuckle.

Pathetically, Rolan lets out a groan, quickly biting his lip afterward. They haven’t done this in weeks, but just from this, he can see he’s already half-hard. He probably didn’t even have time to get off recently, he was so focused on his work in the tower.

It only encourages Tav to make this even better.

His finger sinks in further to the second knuckle, searching for that little bundle of nerves inside of him. He knows he finds it when Rolan cries out, his tail wrapping around his arm tight. He grins, pushing in the second finger, and continues to press against his prostate. Tav swallows his moans with his mouth, scissoring him open and getting him ready. As much as he may want to torture Rolan a little by dragging it out, it’s been a while, and it’s not one of those nights.

Though, the fact that there's no witty banter this time around worries him. Rolan is the type to tease, provoke, and sass him even during the most vulnerable moments of intimacy. He has a few working theories of why he does it; the vulnerability can be uncomfortable sometimes, so he speaks to calm himself down. He could be genuinely having fun with him, the banter that they have relaxing him. Or the simplest of all, he could just be a very talkative person.

Rolan has barely spoken, and it scares him.

He takes it as slow as he can, slicking his cock and guilding it to Rolan's hole. Pressing his tip into his entrance, he goes inch by inch and quietly moans at the tightness of his twitching rim. He has to stop for a moment when Rolan clenches around him, vision blurring slightly at the heat of it all. Tieflings run pretty hot, and somehow he struggles to remember that; it surprises him every time, without fail.

"Gods you're so tight," he breathes out slowly, leaning down to kiss his chest. Nails grip his hair as he licks one of his nipples, lavishing the sensitive nub with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. Rolan keens high in his throat, wrapping his legs around Tav's waist as he tries to spear himself more onto his cock. Tav does not let him, gripping his hips almost harshly and holding him in place. If he tries that again, this would all be over too soon.

Rolan gives him a weak glare before tilting his head back with a moan, Tav fully seating himself inside him. He tries to control his breathing, but it fails when Tav does a test roll; he knows he's hitting all the right places by the way his body spasms.

Tav stares down at him in a calm awe, grinding some more while he takes Rolan’s jaw in his free hand. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

He sees how Rolan's cock throbs at the praise, and how he can no longer make eye contact. Tav kisses him either way, albeit a little urgently as he finally starts thrusting into him.

Rolan's hair fans out over his pillow as his head tilts back further, and Tav strains his neck a bit to follow him. His face is debauched in ways Tav can never describe, and he is mesmerized by it. How can someone have such a perfect, flushed, fucked-out face? He can't help but hold his freckled face, needing a closer look.

"You're perfect, so good for me, my love." He whispers against his lips, wanting to see every little reaction he can pull from his lover.

Rolan's eyes get very teary, either from the words or the overwhelming pleasure he feels, he's not sure. His voice shudders as he glances away, unable to keep eye contact. "That's- hah- k-keep talking."

"You are the most amazing person I know. No one ever compares to you; not in looks, smarts, or ambition. I want to give you everything- fuck- you are my everything, and so much more. Gods, look at you..." He murmurs, softening his hold and cupping his face more tenderly. "I'm so thankful I'm the only one who gets to see you like this."

He didn’t expect Rolan to start crying.

At first, he’s instantly filled with dread, and his mind races to figure out what he did wrong. Did he say something he didn't like? Did he hurt him? Did this not feel good? Does he want to stop?

Before he could pull away and ask him, Rolan holds himself tight against him as he digs his heels into his lower back.

“Don’t stop, please don't stop, please please please-“ He sobs, nails raking across his shoulder blades and leaving angry red welts behind.

Instinctively, Tav cradles him close as he picks up the pace, letting him hide into the juncture between his neck and shoulder. Rolan sinks his teeth into Tav’s shoulder in an attempt to quiet his moans and cries, the mix of emotions and pleasure almost stunning him. He’s a whimpering mess, the muscles of his abdomen clenching tight before he finally shouts out, his spend decorating the expanse of his and Tav's stomachs with his voice completely shattered.

"Rolan-" He groans out, hips faltering in their pace briefly before he buries himself deep inside him, filling him up to the brim.

It takes him almost too long to come back to himself, drenched in sweat and pressing his forehead into Rolan's collarbones. He mindlessly kisses his sternum as the pleasurable fog clears, running his hand soothingly along his lover's hip bone.

Tav carefully pulls out with a slight grimace, looking down at Rolan’s glazed eyes as he tries to catch his breath. He pecks his forehead, about to move away, but Rolan clings to him. He’s still sobbing and weakly tugging him closer. Obliging, Tav pulls him into his body, littering kissing across his face even as the tears keep coming. He doesn't comment on it, only whispering sweet nothings as he soothes him. He will most likely be embarrassed about it later, but for now, Rolan accepts the praises.

His grip tightens when Tav tries to get up again.

“I just want to clean you up. Is that okay?”

Rolan sniffs, reluctantly letting him go.

He makes his movements as quick as possible, snatching up a clean cloth and some water for him. With a quiet plea, and encourages Rolan to sit up and drink some of it, which he thankfully does as Tav gently wipes down their fluids off of them. They will have to clean the sheets in the morning, but for now, this will do just fine.

Soon they lay together once more, Rolan hiding in Tav’s neck as the tears finally dry. “…I’m tired.”

"I know. Sleep.”

"No, not like that. I'm...I'm really tired." He murmurs, almost inaudible.

Tav hums quietly in acknowledgment, nuzzling the side of his face. So depression decided to strike him recently, huh? That's okay, he will be here for him.

"I'm tired of feeling like a fool," he continues after a moment of silence.

"That tome has you this wrapped up?"

"The more I try to decipher, the more it becomes utterly jumbled. How am I supposed to be the master of the damn tower if I can't decipher a damn book, with a guide?"

"...This isn't just about the tome, is it?"

"Lorroakan could decipher an entire book within hours." He bitterly states.

There it is.

"Your nightmares are back." Tav says matter of factly, gaze softening, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"The contents of the nightmares were idiotic at best. I didn't- I thought-" He takes a quick breath before sighing it out. "They're ridiculous. I shouldn't be so affected by them."

"But you are, Rolan."

"He's dead. I won." He hisses out, ready to bare his teeth.

"Yet here you are, trying not to cry at the mere mention of him," he says, not unkindly. "It's only been a few weeks. None of us expect you to be okay right away."

"I should be."

"Rolan, I would be more worried if it didn't affect you."

He scoffs but buries his face deeper into his neck, and Tav feels the wetness of tears running down his skin once more. Tav sighs slowly to calm himself first, then speaks to him again.

"I love you," he murmurs, taking one of his hands in his and squeezing. "And I adore you. You mean a lot to me, and you mean a lot to Cal and Lia. Let us help you."

Rolan doesn't say another word, but the way he squeezes his hand back speaks volumes to him. It doesn't take him long to fall asleep exactly where he is, as if his body finally realized it wasn't in danger anymore. It is within minutes, and it's the fastest he's ever seen Rolan fall asleep.

Kissing his sweat-streaked brow, he fully relaxes into the bed and stays with him. The contents of Rolan's nightmares are a mystery to him for now, and while he can guess all night what they were about this time, he's too exhausted to think.

For now, he will sleep with his lover and hope they will be able to talk in the morning.

"You're not alone, and you will see that, love. One day." Tav whispers.

#forest-writes #rolan bg3 #rolan x tav #rolan x reader #holy rolan empire #bg3 rolan #rolan

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randomwriteronline · 9 months ago

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Bionicle and Plato's Cave: Mata Nui help us Random has been thinking again

HI. MY BRAIN HAS ONCE AGAIN BEEN SCRAMBLED. WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING.

A thing about stories is that there aren't really fully, one-hundred percent original ones. This is not a bad thing, it just happens.

Stories keep repeating one another whether we like it or not, maintaining their own identities through a variety of changes, and Bionicle repeats many, many stories within itself: you've got Polynesian mythos, fantasy epics, dystopian fiction, cosmic horrors, torahic and/or biblical episodes, a subversion of Pinocchio, an Odissey cut short... The works. I'm half certain one would manage to fit some parts of the Divine Comedy in there, probably.

But speaking of deeply allegorical works, the Organic Annal is that too - specifically bearing a resemblance to one of Greek philosopher Plato's most famous allegorical myths, that of the cave.

For those who do not know it, please have a simplistic bastardized version of its first half, which is the most relevant in this case:

A group of men have been, since birth, shackled within the deepest recesses of a cave. They are sat facing a wall upon which a fire casts the shadows of figurines (a tree, a donkey, a vase, etc) placed before it: this is all they've ever known, what they perceive to be reality. Imagine, then, that one of these prisoners manages to free themself from their restraints, and for the first time looks back. Thus they discover the figurines, the fire, and the lie they thought was truth; and though it would be easy to consider these new idols the "true" reality, the prisoner looks past them and sees that the cave stretches forward. As such they crawl through it until they reach the outside world: the sunlight forces their eyes down as they are not used to it yet, and their first taste of this new environment is a reflection in a puddle, or maybe a lake, wobbly and not quite clear. Only when they've accustomed to the Sun they can raise their head and properly discover the real world.

The myth of the cave is an allegory for the philosopher's quest in search of true knowledge, which resides not in the imperfect physical world, but in the perfect metaphysical realm of ideas.

This is not, necessarily, the allegory I believe the Innard Scoresheet represents.

The Biological Chronicle is, to me, a story about stories. About making stories, about being swept in the flow of a story, about recreating ourselves in stories over and over and over again.

I promise it will probably make more sense later.

But back to the point: the myth and the Flesh Record follow a similar structure and have a similar message. That is the thesis of this post until I inevitably get derailed again. Let's look at that.

In applying the steps (shadow, copy, reflection, reality) of the philosopher's journey towards enlightenment to the Meat Diaries, I'll do what Plato would bludgeon my head with a stick for and take them much more literally: the places described are physical ones, and the characters actively move between them. This is not because of any personal wish to specifically spite some dead Athenian fuck, but because that is literally what happens in the Entrail Annotations, whether through actual movement or changes of perspective.

The island of Mata Nui is of course the first step: shadows cast upon a cave wall.

There is a certain irony in this. Mata Nui shares the same allegorical location as the cave, yet physically is its complete opposite - an open space signaling the end of an enormous interconnected system of caves. The journey starts from the end. Great job everybody, we've found reality! This philosophy shit is easy.

But the island is still very much the cave. It looks prettier and livelier than the cave, but it's still a prison in which the Matoran have been confined with no chance of escaping; it's still cut off from the world at large, be it beneath it ir around it; it's still a place where beings who do not know any better blindly believe what is told to them. Only seven people know the truth (or what they believe to be the truth) and spin it in tales of shadow puppets: simplistic retellings full of gaps to fill with magic and terror and prophecies. The Turaga mean no harm - they had no way to know when or if they would have ever returned to Metru Nui, and it made no sense reminding the Matoran of a place they may end up agonizing to see without being able to - but it remains that Mata Nui is a cave, a prison of ignorance.

Things change after Mask of Light: shackles broken and door opened, the silver sea stretches before the Matoran and offers them a sight familiar yet different, more defined.

Metru Nui is the figurine, the copy held in front of the fire. It's the first introduction to the Matoran Universe proper, the first step towards the cave's exit. Here we see how the Matoran are supposed to work, how this sort of society is meant to function, and it... well, it sort of sucks the joy out of it, doesn't it? The soft edges of the figurine's shadow have been replaced by hard protodermis sides that leave no room to the imagination, letting us see the craftmanship clearly. And it's... it's kind of unpleasant. Kind of dull and mean and so... unmagical. I'd like the shadows again please. Those were nicer.

(Plato describes this exact happenstance in the philosopher's journey - upon seeing something closer to the truth one might feel repelled and want to return to simpler times. But we persevere. We must.)

Or perhaps this step is not Metru Nui itself, but the Turaga's recollection of it. The city they knew is now gone, abandoned to itself and rotting miserably alone for a thousand years, and yet they still cling to that pristine image their minds have sculpted for it, forgetting details, crafting imperfect copies of its reality: their own stories place it in a time before time, turn it as they say in a "city of legends", of great minds and a great hero and a strange tension pervading it that they might not consciously recognize. This is their basis for the stories they told, and they believe it to be the truth. It is not. The truth is deeper behind them.

The Matoran Universe as a whole is a reflection in the water. We've gotten out of that cave, but it's still too bright and our eyes can't adapt quickly enough: this will have to do for now.

But what is it a reflection of? A body? That's a given, since the whole thing is housed inside one. Yet this body does not behave like a body, its organs don't act like organs. They are landmarks and settlements, and there are species and parties involved in their own more or less treacherous businesses, and death is everywhere and seldom spares anybody, and evil isn't a singular incomprehensible thing but many perfectly identical pieces, and everything is happening all the time and I would like a break. Please. I can't handle all of this. It's too close to how everything already is. Let's go back to the figurines. They were worse than the shadows, but not to this extent. Please. I just don't want to see the bad guys win. I just don't want to see my friends die.

(Upon seeing something closer to the truth one might feel repelled and want to return to simpler times. But we persevere. We must.)

The Matoran Universe is a terrible place, but it's still far away. The edges are wobbly when the surface shifts: the stakes are universal in size, the rivalries are exaggerated, the situations are fantastical, the evil so terrible and terribly simple. It does what it does because it simply does it, and after all why else should it do it? In its increasing complexity it's still simple and sometimes a bit silly. It's still dolls that you can hold in your hand to make fly around.

As @sepublic mentions briefly here, Bara Magna is by contrast just so human. Before the big bombastic Rock-Em-Sock-Em Jumbo Edition ending and peeling away the sci-fi elements, these are stories of people trying to live. This is reality.

People are sleazy. People have priorities that not always include the well-being of other being put first. People are evil for reasons beyond just "power" or "money" or "why not". Strakk is a massive selfish bastard and also he is the one motherfucker who gets me because to be very honest I too would not want to wade through a desert crawling with quicksand and huge bat winged serpents and raptor riding marauders and spartans so bloodthirsty they don't even name their children until they make a new body count record without being paid well enough. Mata Nui's idealized honor makes him a complete anomaly because nobody is a prince in shining armor here. They're all covered in bones and doing their best not to start a war again.

Even his quest, despite what it entails and how solemnly he presents it and the information we as readers have (his identity as a usurped god exiled from his own body), is surprisingly real - in fact, his struggle is actually the same as Kiina's: both of them are strangers to the region suddenly separated from their people during a time of great strife and desperately wanting to reunite with them. The difference being that while Kiina had no chance to do such a thing, Mata Nui was built to fix both of their problems.

This is what the Matoran Universe is made in the image of. And while it very much deviated across time, the core of it remained the same: elemental tribes and variegated species caught in a dance of death, biting each other's tails endlessly.

This is the world the MU beings find once fully free. It's rough, but they've been through something like this before.

They'll handle it.

They always have.

That is the will of the Non-Mineral Journal.

Of Bionicle, the story-that-ended.

BUT.

Not necessarily of Bionicle, the story-that-does-not-end.

Now we are getting into "Random Experiences Getting The Brain Scrubbed By The Hard Back Of A Sponge And Makes It The Problem Of Everybody Listening To The Inane Yelling" territory. I'm talking walking into headcanon if not straight up just fanfiction territory. Possibly also sensible speculation but I don't know how to tell. Please do come smack me if you feel it is needed.

It's wild that Bionicle has managed to endure for what now (2024) are 23 years. The endless rebuildable possibilities intrinsic to being a LEGO product have certainly helped, but at the same time I really do feel like it wouldn't have held this strongly without its story.

I will admit I'm not a building kind of person. I had some ancient LEGO bricks when I was little and what I usually did with them was stacking them in a really tall line and try to keep it upright until they fell and scattered like lemmings booking it for a cliff. Getting into Bionicle would have never been possible for me had my dear beautiful friend @cantankerouscanuck not innocently dropped me links to Legends of Metru Nui, Web of Shadows, and the Crosswired Geeks website asking if I could have please considered skimming through it. This was back in september 2023. These pieces of plastic have been irreversibly fucking up my brain for nine months, and it was only possible because the plot and characters were written in a way that actively sunk its teeth into my skull and did an alligator death spin so potent that I'm still reeling from it, thinking about it.

I do think that's one of the main reasons why it's still going, why people still talk about it. It lives on through fans who still look at all the enormous potential left by the gaps and holes in the story and work on them, analyze them, make their own versions of them. So this second section is about that part of Bionicle, the story that just does not end, carried on by others.

So back to the point, what actually kickstarted this entire line of thought (the Squishy Note and the allegory of the cave are sort of the same lol) was a headcanon I have about the characters that have been actually missing from this analysis: the Great Beings.

You Know.

The Guys Who Kickstarted Every Single Thing, And Notably Continuously Did All Of It Wrong.

From my own prior knowledge I had understood that they are all Glatorian, and I just learned that they also were, apparently, given their incredible weird fucked up mental powers that made them into godly creatures by a space octopus.

I am going to take both pieces of information and discard them.

There is nothing necessarily wrong with them, except maybe coming from the leftest field available like a sack of granite to the face, but I feel like this kind of explanation for who and what they are isn't really satisfactory to me specifically. It does fit with the allegory of the cave still, technically - they are part of the real world, the ones who created every layer of detachment from it on purpose (somebody must have shackled those prisoners at the bottom of the cave, after all) and have managed to get to a higher level of reality still, following the platonic quest for knowledge into something that resembles the iperuranium, the perfect metaphysical world in which ideas reside.

But also... I'd like for there to be a limit to how higher we can go, you know? Into the cosmic horror? Because everything is cosmic horror in the Doctor's Report already. We live on a god's face. We live in a god's body. We are a god's cells. Our universe is a tiny manmade action figure in a larger universe. Our god is just a synthetic soul. The real older gods made it and sent it around to do their bidding. Also they're all gonna kill us when we figure out our universe is fake. Cosmic horror. Cosmic horror for miles. These are fucking LEGOs. Why is there so much existentialism in them.

So yeah, at the cost of sounding boring the psychic octopus from outer space might be a little bit too far for my personal tastes.

This does not mean I am immune to adding onto the cosmic horror.

Because my personal interpretation of who/what they are still adds onto the cosmic horror.

It just doesn't also include "giant aquatic fauna with psychic powers" in the already very large salad of sentient sapient species who have stakes in this universe, because I think we have enough of those.

So what is my platonic ideal form for them?

The Great Beings are human beings. Straight up just people. They're the readers, the players, the writers, the designers, the creators and tellers of the chronicle itself - they have this immense dominion over everything around them because they are the origin of everything around them in a sense, but their constant failings make sense because for all the influence and power they are still human, and that makes them very, very fallible. I mean, mr Greg "I will rewire your brain chemistry forever with some of the best stuff you'll read as a kid, and also for undiscernible reasons doors aren't canon" Farshtey would be one of them. Things make a lot of sense.

(this is impossible in Stone Cold Canon by the way and I am aware, because if we got to properly see the Great Beings they would have needed to be products to sell, but this is not a matter of probability it's a matter of Vision. like can you imagine how fucking cool would have been a Bonkle movie where the characters finally meet the Great Beings face to face and when it happens the style just completely shifts from 3D animation to a stop-motion and live-action combo with the Great Beings played by people and the characters portrayed by their actual sets with all of the lack of expression and stiff hands and all. do you see it. im about to blow up)

And so, we return to the allegory.

What are the shadows on the wall? Are they still the Turaga's tales? Then shouldn't they be their memories, as well? Everything that comes out of their mouth is hazy either with nostalgia or simplification, and none of it can be real. Yet they present it as such, because to them it is. Their ignorance is the same as the Matoran's, but they do not grasp it because they can't. Mata Nui to them is not the cave, it's the reflection in a lake: an imperfect mirror of reality. They cannot see the fire nor the figurines.

They are the figurines. Man-made creations confined under artificial light in a vast underground system, as large as a whole galaxy and yet so small, so isolated, so far back into the cave they are never meant to know anything other than. The shadows were their own but they can't realize that, and they can't realize they themselves are copies. The Matoran Universe is a puppet show that Teridax shuts down as he takes its reigns: he banishes its fire, Mata Nui (who is a gnostic Demiurge, a god made by gods demanding worship despite its falsehood - another copy not fully aware of being a copy) and shuts the entrance, plunging it all into darkness. No more knowledge. It is not something dolls need, after all.

Bara Magna is not the last step. It is not yet reality, not yet the truth. It's closer, much closer, but it's not: it's the lake, the puddle, the reflection that distorts when something is thrown into it. The stakes are more realistic, the characters and motivations, but not yet real. There is still a layer of separation: the elemental powers, the alien setting, the strange beasts, the supernatural history, the secrets pointing to things much bigger and more fantastical than anything reality could be, the way it is cut short by no fault of its own. What does it reflect? It's not the Matoran Universe, since that is a model based on Bara/Spherus Magna. It's not Mata Nui, because that is an attempt at recreating what the Matoran Universe was, at least in part. So... Is it the real world? Our, world?

It must be.

The Great Beings (us, the players and readers and writers and artists) shaped all of this. This universe is their creation, their work, and it is based on what they know, on their reality, because all stories are.

Maybe it was a story as close to real as possible that turned fantastic and wild until it became mythical, or maybe it was a simple story that grew so complex and grounded that it became life-like. It doesn't matter. It's a long story, a really, really long one, and maybe they're tired of it, or maybe they don't know what to do with it, or maybe they just think it has run its course, or maybe... Maybe they don't know how to tell it again. Tell it like this again.

So... I guess the thing to do is clean up.

Full tabula rasa.

And once we're done we can take these figurines we still have left, the last proof of all this immense work, this spiraling dive into who and what we are, how we function, how we create, how we imitate and recreate ourselves in fictional worlds that are our own and yet completely alien over and over, and make new ones. Distorted reflections that become imperfect copies to place before a fire so that their shadows can play out a new story upon a cave wall, for those same dolls to believe they are real.

God I got sidetracked severely

#bionicle #random talks #HELLO this took me TWO DAYS to write and i somehow reached conclusions i hadnt thought of during the writing process. Help Me #it also brought me Thoughts about g2 that i need to write down in a fic Right Now. it is Fucking Late In The Night. Shit.#also i finished this while watching an in-depth analysis of Emesis Blue (tf2 psych-horror movie) thats TWO HOURS LONG and very interesting #just to give you an idea of my current state #anyways its a mess. enjoy.

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