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ystrike1 · 5 months

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Betrayal of Dignity - By KIMPA (8.5/10)

Sometimes, bad men make great Kings. This particular Duke is absolutely a yandere, but he's also after the throne. He's also one of the few obsessive male characters I can actually imagine in power. He knows how to plan ahead. He's horrible. She's a good and forthright woman. The drama is killer.

Two sisters.

The pretty pink one and the disabled one.

What do you think their relationship is like?

You're wrong.

Chloe is disabled, yes, but she is a capable older sister. Her father, servants, and her sister all treat her with respect. Even when those who discriminate do not.

Alice is a romantic girl, with no brains in her skull. She's supposed to save her family from debt by wedding a wealthy Count....but she cheats on him. Her lover impregnates her, and they run away together...happily? Yes, Alice was never cut out for life as a noble wife. Her husband treats her well. They're passionately in love. Chloe loves her too much to force her to do anything. Their father feels the same.

The spoiled, beautiful daughter leaves the picture.

What about the debt?

There's only one child left. Chloe. She is respected in the walls of her mansion, but nowhere else.

No sane man would marry a woman with a crippled leg.

(This setting is painfully realistic. A couple hundred years ago disabled people had little to no rights. Chloe is a rare exception as a noble daughter who is loved and protected by her father.)

Chloe has no idea, but she does have an admirer.

His name is Duke Daimien Thisse. He fell in love with her three years ago, but she has no clue. He bullied her. He called her naive. Arrogant. He ripped her cane from her hands to show her how weak she was. She naturally assumed he's just another man who dislikes disabled people.

She met the Duke when he was at war. His men camped in her forest, behind her home. She nursed some of his fghters back to health.

Naive Chloe was unaware. As she treated the men they ridiculed her, and they tossed more inappropriate comments on top. They did not deserve her help, but she gave it.

Duke Thisse stole her cane because he was frustrated. He hated watching her care for the boorish men in his army, who whispered behind her back. So, he insulted her to her face to test her true character.

Chloe was too perfect. He suspected she was acting, as an excuse to get close to him and seduce him. He does know about her monetary situation after all.

She rejects him and proves that kindness isn't a weakness. She didn’t know the men were insulting her, but it doesn’t matter to her. They were protecting her country. Her land. She felt obligated to help, as an upstanding noble lady.

Duke Thisse is smitten.

He does get worse though. This guy is every single red flag. His fascination with Chloe stays a secret. A real one. Nobody knows he loves her. Chloe thinks he's marrying her to weaken his position on purpose, because he wants the Crown Prince to look stronger. She thinks she's a tool and she's half right. Marrying Chloe does give the Duke camouflage. He looks like a loyal dog...but he's been planning this marriage and a rebellion for three years.

Chloe won't be his Duchess.

She will be his Queen.

Daimien is also the most jealous and vindictive man on earth. He does bully and plot against his own wife when she pays attention to other men. He's un-fucking-unbearable. He threatens to kill her and her family more than once. She thinks it's because of his honor or something but no. He just does that when she mentions another man too many times.

He even throws a hissy fit when she tries to visit her own father.

This handsome servant, Gillies, figures out how twisted the Duke is. He's purely in love with his kind lady, and the persistent hero actually succeeds in exposing the rot.

Chloe finds out how deep the corruption goes far too late.

Duke Thisse doesn't tell Chloe anything. This mistress??? Fake. She's a royal spy and he feels nothing for her, but he uses this fake lover to torment Chloe. To test her and embarrass her. To see her pure true self once more. Chloe maintains her dignity, even when she must invite said mistress to a tea party.

Duke Thisse uses the death of this fake mistress to trick Chloe into loving him. He frames Chloe. He makes it look like she murdered the other woman out of jealousy, and then he saves her from life in jail.

That "selfless deed" earns her love.

Chloe earnestly lavishes love on the monster that has been tormenting her for years.

Even the Crown Prince is a pawn.

Duke Thisse needs him to to die at the right time, in the right place.

The mad prince realizes that Daimien married Chloe for love, and he gets more suspicious.

His feelings mess with the plan.

The rebellion will come regardless.

Romance begins to blossom when the Duke actually says I love you. It's not cheesy. It makes perfect sense. Chloe doesn't want money or promises. She wants to know if he saved her from a murder charge out of love.

(If only she knew)

He says yes.

It would have been so romantic if we, the readers, didn't know what was going on in his head.

By the way they don't consumate their marriage until they confirm their love. The Duke gets some points with that. He only wanted to lay with her if she felt the same way. He avoided all intimacy until that day. Now she does reciprocate....but he's been planting those feelings for almost four years.

Their love blossoms into something beautiful.

Chloe is pregnant and they all live happily...

The Crown Prince is a mentally deranged maniac. The people are turning against him.

The Duke wants more than love.

He wants to protect the nation he fought for in war.

He wants power. He wants to be King, and he has chosen a Queen.

Side note he only wants Chloe to have one baby, because he's familiar with the dangers of childbirth. I'll give him points for that one...again. He sucks but he's not the worst husband to have.

They don't live happily ever after.

Duke Thisse has more goals to strive for beyond happiness, and that's awesome. He's not a nice man, but he's obsessive and he's not bland. He's not boring on screen. That's for sure.

Chloe is an extremely cool woman, without superpowers. There is no secret ingredient. She's just a hard worker. One of her legs doesn't freaking work, and she's still more imposing than most.

Lots of people hate this one.

I think they need to read the fine print. Maybe one or two more times. On the surface this is a tale of abuse and manipulation...but remember there's no magic. Chloe never wanted to marry for love. She has no lover waiting for her.

Being the wife of a Duke isn't supposed to be easy. It's extra hard if he's ambitious.

That's conveyed very well.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #Betrayal of Dignity

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7s3ven · 2 months

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hii ! i love your writing so much so you know i had to request a luke imagine 💝

i’m thinking of a reader with a protective godly parent (your choice of which god), who is very selective on who they allow their child to date. luke has loved them for years, so one night he prays to their parent for approval. idk if you’ve watched gilmore girls, but I’m imagining the scene where dave tries to convince lane’s mom to allow her to date ! (if you haven’t seen the show, its a popular clip on tt that you could look up if u wanted)

i’m picturing fluff but could def make it angst too, so it’s whatever you want! also, i’m a fem reader, but i don’t mind gender neutral or anything like that

tysm ! ❤️

DAVE AND LANE SHOULD HAVE BEEN ENDING GAME

I LIKE ME BETTER. luke (pjo)

( master list )

IN WHICH… Luke is on a mission to prove himself to the father of the girl he loves. He’ll do anything for her hand, even if said god is asking him to do some particularly stupid stunts.

“I like me better when I’m with you.”

Warnings: drinking, smoking, and vaping mentioned

A/N: Guys… I love loser! Luke AND I KNOW YOU DO TOO. I feel like Dionysus would be the guy to put Luke through all this stuff just for his own amusement

Also, this is my little birthday gift for y’all 😽. Bc it’s my bday today 🙀

—

The first thing when you thought of a daughter of Dionysus’ was a troublemaker, one that rivalled the Stoll brothers. Maybe an alcoholic with bad habits engraved in her mind like her father.

Y/N was a total shock to the camp. How could such a sweet, kind, dazzling girl be the daughter of Dionysus? She didn’t have one mean or sarcastic bone in her body.

She was as bright as Apollo’s kids, as beautiful as the Aphrodite girls prancing around in mini skirts and small tops, and as friendly as the Demeter children who grew roses alongside her. So, it wasn’t a surprise that boys craned their heads to peek at her, something her father hated witnessing. Nobody, not one mere mortal or even a godly being, was good enough for his beloved daughter.

Dionysus held Y/N close. She reminded him of her mother, who died giving birth to her. He had already lost one important woman in his life. He wasn’t going to let history repeat itself again.

“Dad?” Y/N called out into her father’s room, wrinkling up her nose when she almost stumbled over a wine bottle rolling around. Her father was forbidden to consume alcohol but that didn’t stop him from tricking the younger campers into fetching him some.

After concluding that her father wasn’t in his quarters, Y/N took the bottle and wandered to find a bin. The trash cans were always moving around, which made it a mission to find one.

As Y/N passed by the Hermes cabin, she heard her name. She glanced over her shoulder, innocently staring at the pair of boys who were conversing outside. One was leaning against a wooden pillar while the other rested his arms against the railing of the porch.

One noticed Y/N and he nudged his friend, quickly changing their conversation topic.

Y/N recognised Luke Castellan. The Aphrodite girls loved to rave about him, about how handsome and talented he was. How they wished they could kiss him. How they wanted to be held in his arms.

He wasn’t bad looking in Y/N’s eyes, quite adorable actually. She watched as his lips curved into an amused smile as he looked at Chris and how his eyes crinkled slightly. Despite wanting to admire him, Y/N forcefully turned her head. She wasn’t allowed to date. That was one of her father’s golden rules.

She was allowed to drink, allowed to smoke, probably even allowed to go skinny-dipping in the dead of night. Her father was fine with anything as long as she wasn’t around any boys. Of course, she never did consume alcohol or take a much needed hit from a cigarette. She had seen other kids do it.

One of the Ares kids was constantly sneaking in and out of camp to buy new vapes. She had even witnessed Luke of all people, the esteemed golden boy, the role model, blow a cloud of smoke from his lips.

Y/N was always scared she was missing out but she valued her healthy lungs, which had played a part in her surviving a terrifying harpy while on her way to camp.

“She’s perfect.” Luke whispered to Chris.

“Too bad Mr D won’t let you near her.”

It was a known fact that nobody was allowed to date Y/N. She was the camp princess. The only demigod with a parents who cared enough about her to be actively involved in her life. Not even Annabeth had that kind of bond with Athena.

Luke hoped one day Dionysus would let him near Y/N. Until then, he was fine admiring her from afar because he knew no other guys could approach her either.

"You know, I heard Dionysus won't be at the campfire tonight... you could make a move." Chris nudged Luke, muttering quietly so nobody else heard him.

Luke had always been determined to be the first to sweep Y/N off her feet. This was his chance to fulfil that broad claim. He didn't know how he'd do it but when there's a will, there's a way.

All throughout the day, Luke kept close tabs on Y/N. When she was in the arena he was there too, polishing the spare swords. When she was in the garden, Luke happened to be amongst the tall grass too. And he gazed longingly at her from across the pavilion during lunch. She sat alone at her table, Dionysus nowhere in sight.

Luke's heart hammered in his chest as he slowly stood up. Chris slapped his back as a way of encouraging him but it only made his anxiety spike.

“Go get her, tiger.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Luke picked up the pace when he realized that a few other boys the same idea as his. “Hey, Y/N.” He got to her first.

She lifted her head, staring at him through her lashes. She smiled. “Hi, Luke.” She saw his eyes light up.

“You know my name?”

“I’ve been here longer than you. Plus, it’d help concerning if I didn’t know the name of the best swordsman.”

“I’m not that good.”

“You won in a 4 V 1 battle.” Y/N pointed out.

“Did I? I didn’t even notice.”

Y/N let out an amused laugh but she immediately cut herself off when she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. Luke cleared his throat, standing upright.

“Good afternoon, Mr D.” He politely greeted the god.

“Scram, Castellan.” Mr D ordered, glowering at the teenager. Luke quickly nodded and speed-walked back to his table, where Chris was trying to muffle his laughter.

“He wasn’t even flirting with me, dad.” Y/N huffed and furrowed her eyebrows. Her eyes wandered to Luke, feeling a little sorry for him.

“Stop looking at him, Y/N.” Dionysus lightly scolded her. Y/N pouted and pushed the food on her plate around with her fork.

“I wish you would let me date. I’m the only girl who hasn’t kissed someone.” She muttered, huffing.

“I will not let you date a hooligan.”

“Daddy, Luke isn’t a hooligan. He’s sweet. He’s the best swordsman in three hundred years.”

“Which means he could easily hurt you.”

“He wakes up early to go for a run.”

“Wow, the perfect set-up to cheat.”

“He’s good with kids.”

“He’ll want his own kids with you soon.”

“That last one didn’t even make sense.”

“I know a man’s mind, Y/N. Luke Castellan is a dangerous boy.”

Y/N glanced at Luke and Dionysus followed her gaze. Luke was attempting to balance a spoon on his tongue while Chris cracked up.

“Dangerous, huh? I’m absolutely terrified.” Y/N sarcastically deadpanned.

“He’s acting innocent.”

“Sure.”

Fathers always had a weird vendetta against the idea of their daughters dating. Dionysus was no different. If anything, he was worse. He was always popping up at the worst times, such as just now. He never let the attention of a boy linger on Y/N for too long, scared it would take her away from him. Perhaps he was doing it on purpose.

“It’s so unfair.” Y/N huffed as she plucked petals off a rose Silena had randomly given her. “He won’t let me date or go to the parties. I’m not even allowed to look at a boy!” Y/N groaned, leaning back in her foldable chair.

She was sitting with Silena in front of the quiet lake, watching as the wind rippled across the still water.

“Have you tried talking to him?” Silena suggested, sipping on a tall glass of whatever drink she had mixed.

“Nothing works! Someday he’ll have to let me date. He can’t stop me forever. I’m almost twenty now!”

Silena hummed before offering Y/N some pineapple juice.

“Any new gossip, though? Besides Mr D being a total cock block.”

“Well… there’s this one guy.” Y/N murmured, shyly flicking her straw around. Silena immediately sat up.

“Tell me everything!” She quickly demanded. “What’s his name? Is he cute? Can he fight?”

“He can’t fight… and he’s good-looking. He’s, uh,” Y/N diverted her gaze elsewhere, “Also a son… of Hermes.”

“Luke Castellan!” Silena exclaimed without hesitation. “I knew there was something going on when he approached her! Why haven’t you taken an interest in him before? You and him have been here for ages.”

“He had a middle part before.”

“Oh, I remember that!” Silena let out a quiet giggle as she relaxed again, kicking her feet in excitement. “Ask him out.”

“You’re forgetting one problem. My dad!”

Silena shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Make Luke prove himself to Mr D. That worked with my dad!”

“Luke proved himself to your dad?”

“No, silly! It was another boy. But if Luke wants to be seen as worthy, he has to impress Mr D!”

“I guess.” Y/N mumbled as she slowly nodded her head.

“Great. Let’s get ready for the campfire. A new Ares boy arrived and I want to see Melo flirt with him. She flirts with everyone.”

Y/N poked a large marshmallow through the skewer before shoving it into the hot flames in front of her. Silena was talking but she was too spaced out to hear a word.

Y/N aimlessly hummed and occasionally nodded her head. “Yup.” She muttered, turning her marshmallow over and watching as the soft white treat turned crisp.

“Are you even listening? I said Luke is staring at you.”

That got Y/N’s attention. She quickly lifted her head, her gaze immediately searching for the brunette. She found him amongst the Hermes kids and a few of the Aphrodite girls loitered around him. He smiled at her for a split second before his eyes flickered to Y/N’s marshmallow.

He subtly pointed at it and Y/N huffed once she realized her marshmallow had caught fire and been burnt black. “That was my last one.” She threw the skewer into the fire, allowing the hot flames to swallow it up.

“Well, you did keep eating them.” Silena pointed out.

Y/N sent her a small glare. “You’re literally eating one of my marshmallows right now. You have a whole pile sitting on your skirt!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Silena was quick to shove the rest into her mouth. “Bye!” She exclaimed but her words were muffled by the marshmallows.

“You owe me!” Y/N called out after her.

“Is Silena stealing marshmallows again?” Luke chuckled as he came to a stop in front of Y/N. He shoved his hands into his pockets whilst Y/N nodded.

“She does this every time. She’s stealing from Annabeth now!” Y/N wildly gestured over at Silena who was sweetly convincing Annabeth to hand over a few marshmallows.

“She should be notorious for being the marshmallow thief.” Luke grinned. He sat down beside Y/N, their shoulders gently brushing.

“Sorry about my dad at lunch.” Y/N blurted out. “He can be a tad… overprotective. You know how he is.”

“Well, I did see him set somebody’s clothes on fire for winking at you.”

Y/N quietly sighed. “Yeah… poor Nick. May he rest in peace.”

Luke glanced over at Nick who was guarding his marshmallows with his life. “He isn’t dead, you know.”

“Yeah, but he looked like he died back then.”

A familiar presence appeared from behind the pair and Luke immediately stiffened while Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line.

“Castellan. What are you doing talking with my daughter?” Dionysus sounded friendly yet when he slung an arm around Luke’s shoulder, he could tell the god was holding back on strangling him.

“We’re just talking about Silena and her marshmallows, daddy.” Y/N quickly piped up, “It’s not a big deal.”

“Castellan, let’s have a chat, shall we?” Dionysus dragged Luke off before either of the teens could stop him.

“Mr D, before you say anything, please don’t set me on fire! And if you do, spare my pants! These were expensive and I even got them on sale!”

“Keep your pants on, kid.” Dionysus grunted, knowing Luke was fully prepared to unbutton his jeans in order to preserve them. “What business do you have with my daughter, hm?”

Luke visibly relaxed at the idea of his jeans surviving the convention. “If it isn’t too bold to say, Mr D… I like her. A lot. I have for… years now. But I’ve always respected your wish to distance her from boys. I’ll even pray to you. I’ll give you wine. I’ll pray to you with wine and vodka and butterscotch and, uh, more wine! And grapes! Big, red grapes! Just give me a chance!”

Dionysus held up a hand to stop Luke’s aimless rambling. “You want to have a shot with my daughter?” He asked. Luke frantically nodded. “Alright. Do as I say and maybe I’ll consider it.”

Luke thickly gulped. He didn’t like that mischievous look in Dionysus’ eyes but nevertheless, he agreed. “Thank you, Mr D!”

Luke was the first camper to wake up. He reached under his bed, pulling out a large bottle of vintage wine he had been saving for this very occasion.

“Good morning, Mr D!” He cheerfully exclaimed, clearly showed the god the label of the alcohol.

“It’s worse now that you’re here.” Dionysus grumbled, yet he held out his chalice for Luke to pour him a much needed drink. Once he had gulped it all down, he turned to face Luke again. “Alright, first task, get rid of some rogue hellhound. Chiron sent me to do it but you’re more than capable, right?”

Luke was in no position to disagree.

“It’s near camp so don’t get ya knickers in a twist.” Dionysus stood up, brushing the bread crumbs off his lamp. “See ya at soon, kid. Oh, and I’ll be taking that.” He grabbed the wine bottle without a care in the world, merrily whistling to him with a small skip in his step.

“Did I just see you talking to my dad?” Y/N raised an eyebrow. Seeing her dad get along with a camper was a rare sight.

“Somewhat.” Luke muttered. “Uh, good morning? You’re up early.”

“I went out for a morning jog.” Y/N smiled as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “So, hell hound catching, huh?”

“Yeah- Wait, what?” Luke’s gaze snapped to stare at Y/N in slightly shock. She stifled a small laugh.

“I heard your conversation. What’s the hell hound all about?”

Luke quietly sighed. “Don’t tell your dad I told you,” He leaned forward to whisper in Y/N’s ear, “But I convinced him to let me befriend you if I did a few things for him.”

Of course, being Y/N’s friend wasn’t Luke’s main priority but it was better than nothing.

“You better get to it, then. I’m getting lonely.” Y/N laughed as she playfully punched his shoulder. He chuckled alongside her.

“Yeah. I’ll see you soon.” He calmly brushed past Y/N, his smile faltering, “If I survive this.” He muttered to himself, his hands itching to grab a sword.

Finding the hellhound wasn’t hard. Luke spotted its raven black pelt amongst the bright green bushes. It stood out like a sore thumb. It was getting rid of it that would be the problem.

As soon as Luke carelessly stepped forward, a twig snapped under his foot, the hellhound growled. It loudly barked, baring its sharp teeth at the Hermes boy. He pointed his sword at the beast, narrowing his eyes.

“I swear, if you kill me, Hades better revive me so I can date Y/N.” Luke launched forward, tackling the large dog. It howled as his sword scratched its leg. “Nice dog!” Luke nervously chuckled. The hellhound barked again, kicking Luke with its powerful back legs.

“Easy now!” Luke wheezed, the air being knocked out of him from the repetitive blows.

Luke was supposed to be the best fighter at camp. He never dared picture himself rolling across the ground, practically body slamming a hellhound as mud stuck to his orange shirt.

“Just lie still so I can score a date with my long time crush!” Luke exclaimed as he scrambled to stand up. The hellhound paused in confusion, giving Luke enough time to turn it into fine dust.

“I’m never doing that again.” He muttered to himself as he stormed past the tall trees. Dionysus was standing beside the forest, drinking the wine as he seemed to be waiting for Luke. The god pulled down his sunglasses, bursting into rambunctious laughter when he saw Luke.

“What happened to you?! You look terrible, kid!” Dionysus cackled, throwing his head back in amusement.

“You spilled some wine.” Luke muttered, unamused. His usual perfect skin was now adorned with small cuts and bruises. His shirt was covered in dirt. And his hair what probably taken the brute of the attack. Twigs and leaves stuck out of his messy curled brown locks, which caused Dionysus to snicker.

“I told you it wasn’t gonna be easy, kid. You’ll hate tomorrow’s task even more.”

Luke hated every task.

Monday’s was the hellhound. Tuesday’s little chore was to clean the girl’s bathroom. He found out then how much long hair they lost. The Aphrodite girls always complained about their hair falling out. Well, Luke had found it down the drain.

Wednesday’s shenanigan was to steal Clarisse’s beloved spear. Luke wasn’t sure how he was alive after being caught by her. Thursday was surprisingly peaceful. All he had to do was sneak out of camp to buy Mr D more wine.

It was now Friday. Luke was wondering what Mr D had in store for him today. Breakfast whizzed by as usual. A few Aphrodite girls tried to catch his attention but he was focused on Mr D whispering something in Y/N’s ear.

Luke waited patiently throughout the day to be given an idiotic task. It was lunch time when Mr D approached him.

“You finish this one, kid, and you might have my blessing.”

These words made Luke’s eyes light up. “What is it?” He demanded.

“Follow the trail in the forest, jump across some trees, do a perfect dive into the lake from the highest cliff, and swim across the water towards camp. Easy peasy.”

Luke’s small smile wavered. “You’re… joking, right?”

The blank look on Mr D’s face told Luke he wasn’t. Luke sighed. “I’ll get my towel.”

The run through the forest wasn’t so bad. As soon as Luke gave Mr D his towel, he jogged into the thick vegetation. Mr D would be waiting at the finish line for him, if he ever made it. Climbing trees was not Luke’s forte.

His palms were sweaty as he peered down below, quickly gulping at how far down the ground seemed. “I didn’t know I was this stupid.” He muttered to himself before leaping onto a nearby thick branch. He repeated the action, always barely making it and wobbling.

Small beads of sweat trickled down Luke’s forehead as he hiked up the steep hill towards the cliff under the scorching sun. He could see the small figure of Mr D on the other side of the lake.

Luke was thankful he had taken diving lessons before. With a snippet of hesitation, he gracefully jumped. He hit the cold water, shivering. It felt like small needles poking his body. Luke emerged, panting and spitting out a mouthful of water.

He heard Mr D quietly clap. “Good job, kid.”

“What?!” Luke exclaimed, still too far away to hear the god’s voice.

“I said, good job! It was a decent dive!” Mr D cupped his hands over his mouth.

Luke emerged from the lake, drenched and cold and clutching his body as he searched for some warmth.

“Dad? What’s going on here?”

Both Luke and Mr D stiffened at the sound of Y/N’s voice. “Why was Luke in the lake?”

“Mr D.” Luke cut in, “I have something to say.”

“I’m busy, Castellan.”

“You’re literally standing in front of me. That’s all you’re doing.”

“Don’t let the sassy man apocalypse take you too, Castellan.”

“I have a crush on your daughter, sir. You probably already knew that. I know you have strict rules about dating and boys. But I promise to take good care of your daughter. I’ve only smoked once to try it, I don’t drink because I’m scared it’ll make me stupid, I’ve never gotten a ticket. I’m healthy, I take care of myself, I floss for ten minutes every night and that might seem extreme but cavities are no joke. I do well in activities here and I hardly ever play the video games my siblings do in case the theory of them turning you into a psycho is true. I don’t drink coffee. I hate soda because my stomach can’t handle the carbonation. I’ll willingly eat like a cow if you don’t want me eating meat. I don’t mind wearing a suit in the hot sun. I enjoy spending limited time with Y/N and I really, really, really like her.”

Mr D was silent. Luke subtly cleared his throat. “Uh… Mr D? Please don’t make me repeat that list again.”

Mr D broke into a pattern of snickers. “To tell you the truth, Castellan, I was going to let you date my daughter ages ago. She convinced me. It was just so fun making you do stupid things.”

Luke’s face dropped. “I did all that… for nothing… Clarisse almost killed me!”

Mr D, sensing Luke’s anger, merely rolled his eyes and quickly walked off in a drunken manner. “Have fun, you too.”

“Did you really fight a hellhound?” Y/N asked.

“Yes. It ruined my Hello Kitty socks!” Luke huffed. “But I’d do it again for you. What do you say, Y/N? Will you go out with me?” Luke clasped his hands together as a way of begging.

“I feel a little sorry for you, so okay.” She pulled him into a hug. “You know you’re going to have to prove yourself to my friends now.”

Luke stiffened. “No more hellhounds. Please.”

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marvelstars · 3 months

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Anakin and Slavers

"His undoing is that he loveth too much"

George Lucas

One thing that I always liked about George´s work in relation to Anakin and slavery is how out of the left field he and Dave Filoni wrote Anakin´s relationship to the people who owned or saw him as a property at one point or another and yet it makes total sense for his character.

For example kid Anakin has no doubt that Slavery is horrible and at 9 he is actually working towards developing technology to help free his Mom, friends and himself from it. He hates with capital H the fact those people have control over the life and death of other people but at the same time he has great compassion and kindness which his mother helped nurture. This along with the fact that Watto was the only adult male figure who was around during his early chilldhood, this complicated his feelings towards slavers in a very tragic way.

Anakin feared Watto´s violence and didn´t for a moment doubt he would have been willing to sell off his mother or him if the customer got to a big enough price but at the same time he listens to his advice when he travels to the dune sea to do his work with the jawas and his pov is almost as important as his Mom´s, in the novelization of TPM Anakin remembers not to talk to strangers or to get close to Tuskens Raiders camps thanks to Watto´s advice.

So in Anakin´s mind, Watto is someone he fears but also someone he takes advice from, respects to a point, sometimes gets sassy to and actually listens to almost as a father figure BUT at the same time he has no doubt he would activate the killing chip if he tried to escape.

Pain/abuse/fear mixed with care/advice(sounds familiar?) Anakin knows slavery is awful but he can´t help but see Watto as a person because of who Anakin is, Annie is a kind and understanding person and to point may justify Watto as a "Man of bussines" and "Not as bad a other masters" "It could be worse" but he definitely doesn´t trust him in the same way he does his mother, she is blood, she is family. He and Mom are a team.They shared their secrets.

The first time Anakin saw Watto again after being freed, he was a Jedi with training, almost a knight and the first thing he does to the guy who beat him and his Mom some years ago is to ask him if he can help with the ship parts Watto is working on because he noticed Watto is struggling and his bussines is falling down compared to how it was when Anakin was a kid. When Watto noticed who Anakin was he didn´t reject him and accepted his congratulations but keep himself appart, hoping to learn about his mother whereabouts.

When Watto told Anakin he sold Shmi, Anakin doesn´t have a reaction, he takes Watto´s justification of "I am sorry Ani but bussines are bussines and anyway the person who bought her freed her and married her" Anakin doubts it´s as good a picture as Watto is talking about but he takes his justification and leaves.

When he meets Owen, Beru and Cliegg he sees they are indeed nice people and the reason for his mothers suffering is something completely different that they were not able to stop so he doesn´t blame them for her fate. When Anakin lost his mother it was only natural for him to seek a family, someone he could share how he really felt and his secrets, he could not be part of the Lars family but Padme was willing to love him so she became his new confirmed family, right along with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka but while he had to show himself different to them, he didn´t had to do that with Padme, just like he did with his mother.

In the clone wars Anakin shows again this complex view of slavers with Queen Miraj Scintel, the cartoon goes out of it´s way to show she looked at him as pretty property and he didn´t let her forget that and actually it was strongly suggested he may have been raped by her at some point to keep safe Obi-Wan, Rex, Ahsoka as well as the people they wanted to save while he got enough soldiers to stage their rescue. Anakin had a plan the whole time just as he did as a kid so he keep his cool even when he saw another slave choose suicide over keep being under the control of Scintel. Yet in the end when the Queen was killed by Count Dooku Anakin felt sorry for her, he could not help it.

So this mix of rejection/anger/hate/disgust towards slavers mixed with pity/understanding which is something that was part of what made Anakin a good person gets used agaisn´t him in his relationship with Palpatine.

He first shows himself as the father figure Anakin thought he could find in Qui-Gon before he died a better father figure than Watto had been, a father figure that didn´t reject this title like ObiWan did, Palpatine did this to get his trust as a young child and later young adult and then he showed himself as the real sith master he actually was, Palpatine knew that Anakin wasn´t a stranger to be treated as property by people who showed themselves as good advicers or somehow not as bad as others despite their actions. So Anakin´s initial compassion, kindness and understanding for people that abused him is played agaisn´t him to make him fall to the darkside and chain himself again to another worse master who didn´t just seek to use his skills and body but who wanted his soul as well.

And the same reasons why Anakin justified Watto at first when he was a young kid also applied to Palpatine, he may be a sith but he ran the Republic better than those corrupt politicians, he isn´t a perfect Emperor but in Padme´s absence he is better than the alternatives. He isn´t as bad as a master and anyway I deserve this because I fell to the darkside and nobody can come back from that, if he abuses me I got this coming because I choose this and he still teaches me the ways of the force, he rescued me from Mustafar when Obi-Wan left me to die and he didn´t have to, he is all I have left.

So once Anakin´s voice died down Vader was left with many reasons to say to Palpatine "What´s your bidding my master?" because in his mind master isn´t a word that contradicts father and Palpatine became his father in all but name, this makes George´s words about Anakin fatal flaw being the fact he loved too much make complete sense and it´s a tragedy.

#anakin skywalker #darth vader #george lucas #shmi skywalker #palpatine #star wars #slavery/rape mention #anakin meta #The tragedy of Anakin Skywalker

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pjoxreader · 11 months

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Jason/Reyna/Percy with a deaf/hoh significant other?

Deaf/Hard Of Hearing Reader

Jason Grace

-Jason has a hard time learning sign language, but it isn’t for lack of trying. He tries to learn from books and such but it isn’t exactly easy, it’s hard to see how the hands move through just pictures.

-It’s not like he can look up youtube videos on it since phones are just a beacon to monsters. You can’t help but laugh every time you see Jason come over sheepishly holding an ASL book when he’s having trouble with a sign.

-The first thing Jason learns when you start to date is how to sign I love you. You can’t deny it was cute watching him but he ends up doing the signs for ‘I, love, you’ separately. Which was fine in itself but there was an easier way to sign that.

-He still has a lot to learn, and you can’t help but giggle at that and show him the easier way to sign it. All he had to do was put the middle finger and ring finger down, then face your palm to the person you’re doing the sign too. -You really love watching Jason teaching the other seven everything they need to know about sign language, so they can communicate easier with you. He really wants nothing more than for his friends to be close with you too.

-He loves signing ‘I love you’ during things like training or if you’re at dinner stuck at different tables. He easily falls in love with the language just as much as he fell for you.

Reyna Ramírez-Arellano

-Reyna would have already known some basic sign language, it’s the perfect thing to learn for a quest. Being able to work with your questmate on a plan without the worry of being overheard.

-That being said, she doesn’t know basic conversational signs. But as she already had the basic grammar and such down already it doesn’t take much effort for her to learn the rest.

-She learns **fast** though, and soon enough in her debriefs to camp she signs the entire speech too of what the plans for the day were. Even when you’re not there you find she’s signing anyway to keep up the practice.

-She becomes a natural in no time, she can easily keep up with reading your signs and signing at a speed to match your own. She never once bothered writing down what she needed to say for a conversation sense she put all the effort into learning ASL.

-You two can easily plan a date night without anyone knowing, Frank was working on running drills while Reyna was working on planning a date with you. She was doing all of that while translating what Frank was saying as well.

-While explaining the rules of the war games to the newer campers you show the sign for ‘I love you’. Much to everyone's surprise she cracks a smile before clearing her throat and working on explaining again.

Percy Jackson

-How you first met is Percy asking you how to sign curse words. You were confused at first but do agree to teach him. However you soon enough find out why he wanted to learn that. -After a long quest with him you make your way to Olympus, to your surprise Percy then signs ‘dick’ to Zeus while making it seem he was just scratching his nose. You had to do everything in your power to not bust out laughing.

-Percy had the smuggest grin after that, it seemed he wanted to do that for a while… He starts to learn more curse words but then it starts to branch out to more normal signs. He struggled with the structure of wording sometimes but you’d be there to correct him.

-He did end up mostly signing curse words though. Whether it be to monsters, gods, or other campers that deserve it. But you couldn’t really blame him, he was from New York after all…

-The rest of the camp started to learn sign language because of him, well mostly curse words since Chiron didn’t fully understand all of them. It was the best way to insult each other without getting in trouble.

-Clarisse was easily the second most person who knew the most amount of curses in ASL, since Percy and she would go at it. You have to admit this is not how you expected to be teaching people ASL but at least they were learning?

~Masterlist & Rules~

Like my writing? Please consider sending me a Ko-fi! ☕

#pjo #hoo #pjo x reader #hoo x reader #percy jackson #pjo fluff #hoo fluff #percy jackson x reader #reyna ramirez arellano #reyna x reader #jason grace #jason grace x reader

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milawritesstuff · 1 year

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I want Y/N and Pedri. Him seeing her on his game, they took picture after, they chat and tease each other after taking picture, him being stupid not to ask for a name and than him looking for her all night on instagram. Finally finding her and then exchanging messages and them having a date at his place 🥰

A/N: I forgot I had some drafts ready to go lol … I have one more saved which I might post tomorrow. Enjoy!!

•••

The match had just ended. It was Pedri's first match since he had suffered an injury about two months prior. You had showed up to Camp Nou every match since, hoping he would soon be better and you could see his magic on the field. You tried to rush towards the lowest point in the stands possible to get a picture with him but the security guards stopped you as you pulled your little sister behind you.

-Es para la niña.- It's for the little girl, you said in hopes they would let you go through. You knew they were nicer to kids wanting pictures and autographs than to grown women wanting a picture with their favorite footballers. The security guard stared at you and then looked behind at your little sister, both of you wearing the number 8 jersey.

-Wait.- He said as people continued to leave the stands and walk out of the stadium. Finally the guard looked at you and nodded. - Vamos, but make it fast.- He said.

You ran down to the edge of the seats and yelled for Pedri who was one of the last ones walking back towards the tunnels. You put your little sister in front of you and had her yell to get his attention. The dark haired boy saw the two of you and smiled waving to let you know he would be there soon, but before going to the other end of the tunnel and signing some shirts and taking other pictures.

-Hola.- He said to your little sister and he high fived her with a huge smile. You smiled at him and asked if he could take a picture with her. He agreed. She asked if he could sign her jersey which he did but had difficulty because she couldn't take it off. He gave her back the marker and then he looked up at you.

-Una foto con la hermana también?- One picture with the sister, too? You said as you handed your phone to your little sister and walked towards him. He chuckled. -Una hermana guapa- A pretty sister.- he said as you stood next to him and smiled for the picture. You felt your cheeks begin to burn as a response to his words.

-Good thing you didn't say she's your daughter.- He commented as you stood in front of him. You laughed. -I'm too young for kids.- You responded as he shook his head.

In a sudden wave of confidence you continued ... -But I can practice making them.- He looked at you with his eyes wide open and the two of you began to laugh uncontrollably.

-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that.- You said as he stared at you with a smile.

-No, don't worry about it.- He said.

-Good game, Pedri. It was nice to see you back. Now we have someone who can control Gavi again.-

He laughed. -I'm glad to be back. Although I'm not sure anyone can control him.-

He stood there staring into your eyes. You felt butterflies in your stomach because his stare was intense. It felt comfortable talking to him, almost as if you had known him your whole life. Although there were still fans walking out and music blasting through the stadium speakers, this felt like your moment. A moment of silence as the two of you felt something undescribable.

-Can you sign my jersey?- You said interrupting the moment. He agreed and you began to pull your jersey up to give it to him when you felt his hands stop yours. -Keep it on.- He said as he grabbed the marker from your little sister and he began to leave his autograph on the upper part of your chest. Your heartbeat was racing and he could feel it. Your hard breathing caused by how close he was, hitting his arm.

-Estas bien?- Are you okay? He asked with a smirk which caused you to roll your eyes.

-Es que eres tan guapo, no me puedo controlar.- It's just that you are so handsome, I can't control myself. You said in a sarcastic tone as you raised your eyebrows and began to laugh. He chuckled and shook his head. -You know how to keep me humble, niñata.- He said as he put the top back on the marker and handed it to your little sister.

-Gracias, feo.- You responded as he began to walk away. He turned to look at you one more time before entering the tunnel and offered you a smile with a wink giving you butterflies in your stomach.

You and your little sister headed home, you with a huge smile on your face from the interaction with Pedri. -He's handsome, why did you call him feo?- Your little sister asked as the two of you walked into the metro. You laughed and looked over at her. - He called me as spoiled brat.- She shook her head. -I'm probably more mature than the both of you.-

Meanwhile at home Pedri continued to look through instagram, thinking of your laugh. As soon as he had entered the tunnel he rushed back to get your name but you were long gone. He wanted a name to your face, to your laugh, to the butterflies in his stomach after talking to you.

He knew you would, hopefully, eventually post on instagram but as he continued to look at everything people were tagging him his hope began to dry out. It wasn't you. Your sister and you arrived home and you put her to bed while you went to your room and began to work on homework for uni. It was around 1am when you finally gave up because you couldn't concentrate. You picked up your phone and looked at the picture your little sister had taken of the two of you. You smiled at how he looked at you the moments prior to the final picture. Finally deciding to post it on your instagram.

Por fin se me ha dado conocer a este feo. I was finally able to meet this ugly guy.

You posted the picture with the funny caption and your friends all began to comment. You laughed at the different comments as you felt your heart stop and you saw someone had messaged you.

P : I've been waiting for you to post this, niñata. What took so long.

Y/N: You know the world doesn't revolve around you, right?

P: It doesn't? You rolled your eyes as you read his messages and chuckled.

Y/N: Are you stalking me now? How the tables have turned.

P: Are you confessing to stalking me?

Y/N: I wouldn't call it stalking, more like gentle following. He chuckled as he read your messages in his bed, the light of his screen being the only thing that shined in the dark room.

P: This might be random but, would my stalker like to go out on a date?

Y/N: You're willing to go out with a niñata?

P: If you're willing to go out with a feo.

TAG LIST: @cinderellawithashoe @httpswiftie @simpingmyassoff @bubblebeep69 @fictional-l0v3r @httpspedri26 @0alanasworld0 @l0verl4ne @gaviypedrisbride @footballerficsposts @fashphotolife @beaschampagneproblems @jvsgnjrtpdar5stkd-tv-m @ikkehehe @jjishotasf @quemirasboboandapaya @maricciardo @gaviswh0re @pedriwifefrfr @dustell @elijahslover @formula1mount

#pedri gonzalez #pedri #pedri imagine #pedri x reader #pedro gonzalez #pedri is so damn hot #pedri blurb #pedri requests #pedri fluff #pedri barça #pedri x y/n #pedri x you

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jessadamsdraws · 4 days

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Chapter one: Changes

This au is the Wild Kratts Guardianship au by @littlecrittereli

The idea is that their is a bigger age gap between Martin and Chris (About 9 or so years apart) and Martin as legal Guardianship after Chris at a young age after they parent passed away (Think Lilo and Nani) I hope you like the first Chapter

Chris remembers that day well, he couldn’t forget if he tried. He remembers the teacher writing on the board talking about fractions. He remembers how bored he was because he knew this all and could do this in his sleep if he wanted. He remembers the teacher’s phone suddenly ringing causing everyone around him to jumping in surprise. But the part he remembers the most is the expression on his teachers face when she turned to Chris in terror like someone had died…

And it turned out someone did die.

The rest is just moments of him and his older brother coming back from Uni early (he was supposed to be back that summer break to hang out) them crying and holding each other. The fighting and shouting matches between Martin and their other relatives over him. The sudden change of moving to a super small one bedroom apartment with his brother. The meals going from warm and comforting to salty and small.

But the worst change was Martin and himself. He could remember when his brother would read to him the animal picture books and would show him how a pather would leap into the air to catch its prey. It was so much fun being the wild cat’s hunting down its prey and how he would tackle his bro in their little make believe game.

Now Martin would come home exhausted only to head over to the only expensive thing they owned, the laptop and work on his online studies. Chris now walked to and from school all on his own, coming to an empty apartment instead of the big house that felt like home then here, sitting on the floor and starting his homework on the tiny coffee table next to the second hand couch they owned. When he finished doing the little chorus he had and eating his dinner (if Martin remembered to make it).

Then there was Lauren. At first Chris didn’t know who she was but he did know she was always coming to the apartment and she asked a lot of the same questions over and over again. She was sickly sweet around him but very short with Martin. Maybe they were dating? He had seen shows where the girlfriends were always mad at their boyfriends for some reason he couldn’t understand. But when he overheard some of his classmates talking about a CSP and what that meant with a quick bit of research, he finally knew who Lauren really was.

And that now he really didn’t like Lauren.

This life became the new normal for Chris. When he reached the ripe old age of 12 was when the fights happened. Chris couldn’t understand why he was so angry. I mean he could but more specifically he didn’t know why he was mad at Martin. It was like the littlest corny joke that came out of the older blonde's mouth was like it was directed at him like it was his fault or something.

By the time he became 14 was when his life changed again when Martin got an email from someone with an opportunity that would change both of their lives forever.

===============================================

Aviva looked at the message over and over. Yes? Yes. Yes!! She did it! She got the grant for their research. She couldn’t believe it she couldn’t wait to tell Martin… oh, wait Martin. She felt her excitement turn cold in an instant.

Martin wouldn’t be able to go because of his younger brother. No, she couldn’t do this without him. It was their research, it was their project. If it wasn’t for him she wouldn’t have gotten the idea for doing this in the first place.

It was her first day at uni. She was confident that she would excel in the classes. That wasn’t her problem, it was the fact that she didn’t think she would make any friends. After what happened in space camp she didn’t she ever would again. Zach had shattered her faith in people after the utter betrayal of stealing her technology for himself. Now he owned his own company selling the bots that she originally made. Though their ai was a little off before she could fit their code to learn how to interpret turn of phrase instead of taking them literally which made her happy a little. but , still she was at rock bottom again and needed a new angle and new hook to start inventing something that could help … someone, something?

She hated this so much. She knew better than to put her eggs in one basket but she did anyway and look where it got her. In a classroom of over nine hundred students learning things she learned years ago.

“Psst? Hey,”

She heard a voice coming from behind her. Turning to see a guy in a blue sweatshirt looking at her.

“Yes, can I help you?” She asked deadpan.

“I know this is gonna sound really cliche but I forgot my pen and was wondering…” Before he even finished his sentence she had produced a pen out of almost thin air handing it to him.

“Oh my gosh you’re a lifesaver. Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.” She exasperated turning back around.

“I’m Martin” and a hand stretched out from the left of her face caused her to wip back around.

“huh? Aviva.” She said unsure of how to interact in this situation. She now gave the guy a better look at him. He was all smiles and started talking about something she wasn’t really paying attention. It was a bad habit she was trying to break. What she did catch was he wanted to be a Zoologist to travel around the world with his little brother when he grows a bit (if he wanted to cause he was only 8 right now). He talked about all the creatures that he liked (Mostly aquatic variety) It reminded her of a golden retriever which made her smile a bit, but then the next thing he said was what started this whole new road she would take not just by herself as she’d thought but with her new friends, no her new family.

“Imagine if you could have the abilities of these awesome creatures.”

Yeah…

What if?

#fanfic #my art #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #fanfic writing #wild kratts fandom #wild kratts #martin kratt #kratt brothers #chris kratt #aviva corcovado #wild kratts au #WK Guardianship au

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picklefics · 8 months

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Benefits of Camping, or How to (not) Hunt Bigfoot With Your Parents

This was originally posted on Ao3, but I decided I'd see what posting on Tumblr was like for fanfiction :) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/47138986/chapters/118767895)

I already have chapters 1-5, just not gonna put em all up right now as I'm at a coffee shop and need to work on heading home.

Summary:

It could've been a great vacation. Probably. Except there's one tiny issue: Danny's parents have decided to take a break from hunting ghosts, instead supporting their fellow cryptobiologists in hunting Bigfoot. The big problem? They do find Bigfoot. And Bigfoot can talk. (...and has a PhD?)

Chapter 1: Benefit 1-New Cooking Skills

Danny’s folks are usually ghost hunters, but that doesn’t mean they don’t branch out. After all, they’d spent almost 20 years of their life studying a science practically everyone thought of as a paper house in a rainstorm. Surely one of those droplets of evidence would disprove the science as a whole.

Really? Entire beings made of one substance? Supernatural entities?

Absurd .

Maddie and Jack have a great deal of sympathy for cryptobiologists. They also have a tendency to suspect that ghosts are involved every time someone spots Bigfoot or some other being. But really, they’d be happy with either the discovery of a ghost or a new animal to dissect.

Danny, on the other hand, is not in love with either of those two discovery options. He is having a great deal of fun tormenting Jazz, who’d been forced to come along on a trip to the red cedar forests of California. He’d tried to bribe Sam and Tucker into coming along. Sam, with the lure of a new animal (maybe) to check out, and Tucker with peer pressure and lots of grilled meat. Unfortunately, after the reality check that was another fight with a new ghost named Fortuna (self-proclaimed follower of Fortuna, Goddess of Fortune and Misfortune, and with luck-related powers), they’d been forced to concede that having people at home who could fight ghosts was too important to have all three of them on a camping trip.

Thank fuck that Val wasn’t in school right now and that she’d gotten less extreme about ghosts since meeting Danielle. One day Danny might even consider telling her about him, if she doesn’t figure it out first. As a result, there are three competent ghost hunters in Amity Park who don’t actively hate ghosts while Danny is on vacation.

At any rate, Danny is trapped with a bunch of adults who are way too enthusiastic about hunting down rare animals and (in at least one case) killing and taxidermy-ing them. The guy in question keeps tracking new hunters down and showing off pictures of his living room and business, covered in eerie deer, bear, and alligator heads, among other things. There’s even a snake wrapped around a driftwood piece on the table. It reminds Danny of Skulker, and makes him consider yet again whether ghosts might be more likely to form out of these kinds of people. He’s pretty sure his parents were obsessive before they started regularly working with ectoplasm, and after?

They grew much more extreme.

And who knows? It could be due to exposure to ectoplasm, or maybe the obsessiveness causes ectoplasm to accumulate near them. He’s heard theories going both ways.

This guy, Danny could easily imagine dying and becoming a ghost.

At least he helps with setup. The camp takes a while to go up, yellow and beige tents popping up like gophers among the trees. His parents’ tent is a green dome, one of a few splashes of color in the group. Another guy sets up a big grill and a solar panel in a little clearing, one of the few places with sunlight. His incredibly buff partner totes a bag of backup coal to the grill like Mom would carry a sack of flour.

All around the area, people bring up folding chairs and situate equipment. In a big, waterproof, black container, they all put their tech away. The container is anchored with thick ropes to be absolutely certain that nothing can drag it away. It’s flash-flooding season in the area and there’s a river nearby, so they’re concerned that the container could float away, but they had wanted to make the equipment available to everyone, so they aren’t keeping it in anyone’s vehicle.

A cage goes up towards the far west corner of the camp, away from the fire pit, because they’re worried anything they capture might be unduly frightened by said fire.

With that, a few people sign up in rotation to monitor the grill, planning to bake some potatoes and apples in the fire pit and grill weenies. It’ll be about three hours before supper, but the planning, and a snack, are needed. As the only kids present (apparently many of the others’ kids are nonexistent or at summer camps), Danny and Jazz are put on apple coring and potato poking duty involuntarily.

Matthew Kapp is their instructor. He practically drags them to the fire pit and tells them how to make the food like he thinks they have infinite memory space for commands, no matter how long the list is.

He explains that potatoes explode when in the ashes without holes, then shows them the basic steps to prepare the food. Essentially, they’re supposed to stab the potatoes with a fork “until it feels right”, wrap them in tin foil, and then yeet them into the fire. Then they have to be surrounded by the ashes and dug out later. Jazz and Danny both work on this, quietly chattering.

Danny grins and with particular emphasis stabs a potato old enough to have green sprouts studded all over its surface. He has to use his right thumb to put enough pressure on the sides of the sprouts that they fall off. He jokes, “If I were Skulker and this potato was me, I’d be so happy right now…”

Jazz raises her eyebrows at him. “Sometimes I worry about the normalization of violence you’ve experienced, Danny.”

Danny is like 90% sure she’s saying that mostly to get on his nerves, but he’s not 100% sure. Ah, the delights of a sister who adores psychology and tormenting her little brother. He rolls his eyes. “Literally everybody in town probably has that. The school has at least one attack every week.”

Jazz retorts, “That’s really not normal.”

“Well it’s normal for me.”

At that, Jazz changes topics. “Did you remember to bring our tent?”

Danny gives her a thumbs up.

“Great. We don’t have to listen to their snoring!” She cheers. Granted part of the reason they have the tent is because of Danny’s nightmares and occasional power use. Particularly, he’s prone to leaping out of bed and turning intangible the second he gets startled awake because of the sheer number of times ghosts have woken him up.

“Thanks for suggesting it,” Danny offers. Then he adds, “Stabbing the potatoes until it feels right is so…imprecise. How do we know when it feels right?”

Jazz groans sympathetically. “I know, right? I get it for people who’ve baked campfire potatoes before, but we’ve never done this. Mr. Kapp is a scientist, isn’t he supposed to know to be exact for beginners?”

Danny tosses his potato back and forth. “This potato better be good. It’s very hole-y now.” He sets it in the metal bowl to his right and adds, “It’s starting a cult.”

Jazz raises her eyebrows at him. “...why?”

“Holy? Y’know, like saints or whatever?”

Jazz snorts and grabs the tin foil roll. She starts unwrapping it to the familiar crumbly crackle of ripping metal, tearing off pieces big enough for each of the potatoes they’ve prepared. Danny snitches some of the squares and starts wrapping them around each potato as fast as he can. For this part, they don’t talk. The aluminum is too loud anyways. It covers speech pretty well.

After all 14 potatoes are wrapped, they toss them into the fire. Sparks flash into the sky and drift away, and one of the logs collapses into the pit with a soft thud. The white ashes have increased in number, but there aren’t many yet, so they wait to bury the potatoes in the ashes. While they wait, they move on to the apples.

Danny mixes the cinnamon and other spices together and Jazz cores the apples while grumbling about how hard it will be to work on her paper out here. She brought paper so she could handwrite some of it, but out here there isn’t any internet so the most she can do is type on her phone. She isn’t doing that because she’s worried about running out of power and not being able to call if there’s an emergency.

They both stuff the apples with the mixture and then wrap them and toss them in the fire in the same way as the potatoes but to the side. About 15 minutes later, they use sticks to roll the apples out of the fire. The potatoes are saved for later since it will be a few hours before they’re done, while the apples are served as a snack/dessert immediately.

Having had a long drive and therefore possessing a strong craving for sweets (or any sort of snackage really), everyone swarms the apple pile and as a result only gets one each. Danny plots to sneak another apple into the fire later so he can have seconds, and Jazz wholly supports him. He forgets to eat, and she has to remind him far more often than she’d like.

After the apples are all eaten, some of the people sit down to rest (those who weren’t already asleep) and some of the others begin prowling the area, including Taxidermy Guy (Oscar Polson) and his wife Paloma.

When the two of them come back, they have a map of the area filled with markings denoting where they want to put various kinds of traps. The Polsons are the experts on trap-setting and location, and they’re responsible for deciding which places to put the traps each person brought. With the locations for each trap decided, everyone fixes the last few supper items and sits down for supper as the sun sets, mostly because there’s not enough time to set up the traps that evening.

Next Chapter:

https://www.tumblr.com/picklefics/730299785376104448/boc-chapter-2?source=share

#dp x xm #dpxxm #phandom #x men evolution #bad camping trips #danny phantom #hank mccoy and his very own series of unfortunate events

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dnangelic · 4 months

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skimmed LN vol 3 out of curiosity (no massive translation post just yet because i'd like to go back to it when i'm fresher-minded) but i do have some fun bullet points from the whole thing overall. for anybody who doesn't know the plot summary, the gist of the novel is dark and daisuke's next target is a pair of glass shoes, like cinderella's, only a cute lil girl (maho? more sugisaki-esque wordplay probably cause there's a lot of 'magic(mahou) isn't real you idiots/magic is very real you idiots' in this book) and her older brother named sagami who looks veeery similar to dark shows up and stuff starts happening.

dark trying to find a place to land so he can turn back into daisuke includes him, at one point, landing near a senior citizen area only for all of said senior citizens to turn out to be retired/ex-police officers that chase him waving around their walking sticks ready to beat and whack his ass

dark feeling a sharp, intense pain in his heart when daisuke worriedly suggests that hiwatari's methods are becoming more and more unlike himself and desperate. BUT even though he notices it, daisuke doesn't push on dark's reaction and dark too entirely ignores everything that just happened by changing the topic too to looking forward to seeing how cute riku is on the date they're supposed to head to. fucker

daisuke gives riku his shoes to wear and goes barefoot when her feet start hurting because she’s not used to wearing anything but sneakers!! riku gives in and puts them on from him because she knows he’d insist until she did.

dark tries to have a serious conversation with daisuke at one point but daisuke's only responding/talking and saying 'yeah' in his sleep until dark realizes it and YELLS AT HIM (MORONS (AFFECTIONATE))

or this part: [ 'i could carry riku myself.' sure, he might be smaller than the average boy his age but if it was for riku... 'if i were as tall and strong as dark and sagami, i'd be...' ] <- cut to dark 'maliciously laughing' and saying 'then you should've just transformed into me!' to which daisuke obviously calls a ridiculous suggestion

or this part. ['dark... i just don't want riku to feel bad because of me.' "---i'm the same way." daisuke was startled by the unexpectedly quiet voice. that's right, dark loves riku just like himself, but she hates him. i feel sorry for him, but it's weird for me to comfort him... as daisuke pondered this, dark continued. "---i want all girls to be happy." 'people hate me because of that kind of attitude!' feeling like he could see dark grinning instead of himself reflected in the glass, daisuke closed the curtains. (fucker x2)

‘you wouldn’t understand, because you’re not like other people.’ ‘naaaaturally.’ <- dark (fucker x3)

riku still has the camping picture she bought of herself and daisuke from the 2nd LN 😭!! the whole scene with her breaking the ice after daisuke's been trapped and transformed within it into dark's appearance, daisuke only regards as riku being 'desperate' and trying to save him from the 'nightmare' too. he hasn't actually brought himself to confess anything yet and still wavers in his insecurities over not being strong enough for riku and blames dark's existence for a lot of his unhappiness too in a harsh single line again, a la '[...] if dark weren't here, everything in the world would have been right'/all these problems could have been avoided

sagami 😭

sagami 😂

SAGAMI 😂😂😂

daisuke actually turns into dark at one point at school and promptly hides in a bathroom while casually being mistaken for sagami by saehara, sekimoto and risa. then when he jumps out a window and flies off they're all 'THAT WAS DARK?!?!?!'

sagami's sister is soooooo cute. she's around elementary school age and mistakes dark for a wizard (angels have gold hair and white wings, but you wear black clothes so you're a wizard!) AND dark also politely drops on a knee and treats her like a princess with complete sincerity and tenderness the whole entire time once they actually meet. the glass shoes light up different depending on whoever touches it (blue for a truth, red for a lie,) and when dark makes a straightforward promise to her about sagami's successful future the shoes light up a strong blue in response to him. ohhh i love dark so much scumbag KING

she also gives dark a surprise kiss on the cheek that 'feels like two cherry blossom petals' and fr he deserved that. all is right in the world

the next morning. 'my sister said she wanted to grow up to marry dark so now i'm getting a haircut.' SAGAMI!!!!! 😂😂😂

'i'll do my best to make sure that kaitou dark doesn't steal my work!' <- said playful statement IMMEDIATELY causing daisuke to stand up and respond without thinking 'in that case, i'll definitely go steal it.' IN FRONT OF HIS WHOLE CLASS!!

hiwatari very nearly did strangle dark and daisuke to an asphyxiated blackout if not flat out, outright, straight up death. that is a thing that happens. it does. and that was after psychic blasting wiz and dark with magic music to intense, excruciating pain already too. my god man. afterwards daisuke happily tells hiwatari good morning at school and hiwatari's described as surprised and hesitant at daisuke's greeting because yeah no kidding. fuckin. dai vc apparently: it's okay we're best friends so you try to kill me all the time!

honestly i think the second/snow queen LN is still probably my favorite holistically followed by the very first LN but this one really wasn't too bad either. the overall message is a pretty easy to digest 'just be yourself and don't run away from the potential of your future!' whether it's by trying to copy others while lacking legitimate self confidence or denying yourself/giving up by saying everything's hopeless and it's too late, and sagami isn't a bad character either for being quite literally a knockoff art-teacher dark with like, a real human life and siscon accusations. he's good burnt out college kid rep i like him, plus he actually got daisuke pissed enough to be described as looking/acting almost like dark (possessive-protective) for a page, which, nice. dark even gives sagami a whole entire little tough-love motivational spiel and simultaneously tells him to be proud of being capable of making 'good copies' and sagami grumbles about it all later too going like 'why should anybody even listen to that guy when he's a thief!!!' which like, okay, ungrateful, but funny.

in any case i'd very much like to implement the events of this LN too into my portrayal in whatever regards i can or feel like, so that's proooobably what i'll do!

#*･ﾟ⊰ 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒. ⊱ ✦ › OUT.#fav #reference.#none of this is in proper order btw #nobody hound me for it #i'll do a full post with translated bits n pieces later once i'm more up for it #also the part where daisuke stands up against sagami's cynicism was so nice if only bc of the line that #'if magic wasn't real then dark and i wouldn't exist' thats my boi....

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evilovesyou · 1 year

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THOUGHTS ON AOTV

The movie is a nice summary of the last several years, definitely, but for the fact that it is marketed towards fans, there are very little new insights into anything. @chaotic-bells said on discord "i have it in my head that it somehow it’s gonna be like a longer version of his stories on instagram" and it's a fairly accurate description of the touring parts of the film.

STRUCTURE

There were several things about the structure of the doc that seemed odd. In my memory the plot goes from 1D breaking up, to Louis' struggle with finding himself during difficult times (the losses he suffered), and then it essentially turns into a tour documentary.

There is not a single word about Two of Us in the part about Jay and Fizzy, despite that having been another major set back I think.

They don't mention the Away From Home Festival at all. It seems so odd not to talk about this huge accomplishment and him fulfilling this dream of his... Yes, there's a whole documentary about the first one, but there was a whole other festival since since then and it just seemed very odd not to mention it at all. (Especially since I think that he's going to announce AFH Mexico soon.)

THE CREW AND THE BAND

One of the nicest moments of the film is when Louis takes a day off with the band and they sit down and talk about how different it is touring with Louis vs. touring with other artists and that they feel close like a proper band.

Oli is definitely a contender for main character of this entire thing with how witty, funny and genuine he seems. (I'm paraphrasing here but: "I'm something of a touring PA for Louis, trying to keep his life together... But I'm not very good at it.")

THE FAMILY / FREDDIE

I think the most touching parts of the entire thing are talking about Jay. Louis' grandparents get really emotional and I think everyone in the theater shed at tear at his grandpa crying when trying to explain how close they were. Lottie speaks about how she and Louis tried to help Fizzy but they ulimately feel like they failed her.

Interesting about this is that at first the parts about his family and Freddie are completely seperate, but then later they show a few pictures and talk about how they see him like once a year, while Louis spends a lot of time with him in LA.

To be honest the parts with Freddie seemed fairly genuine and sweet to me. I kept thinking "oh, Louis is so cute with kids" and Freddie genuinenly seems like a very sweet child. The bit where he's at his show in LA with his little sign was very cute. I don't believe the whole thing, but at least now I'm fairly certain that this is something that will stay in place. No end in sight. (Though they did play coacoac after both parts about the kid LOL)

CAMPING OUT

One thing that stood out to me from the documentary was the insane amount of time they spent talking to fans about camping out for several days before shows. The point was probably to underline the dedication within the fandom or whatever, but the entire bit was so uncomfortable to watch. It was encouraging this behaviour, which is 1) a thing only people with certain privileges can do and 2) breaking the rules that venues and promoters set.

Instead of focusing on that for what felt like about 10 minutes, they could've talked to people organizing fan projects for the shows. They didn't even have to say anything about the rainbows (which they never even mentioned in any way despite them being front and center in almost every shot of the crowd LOL). There were several other projects they could've talked about. They could've interviewed the people who came up with the KMM lights for example.

(Also they interviewed US-American fans on what it was like to go to shows in LATAM and they said "it's very different, they just have so much fun even in the very back" or something like that and we all just looked at each other like WTF are you on about? You can always have fun in the back of a show LOL)

SPECIAL MOMENTS / EASTER EGGS

The first thing that was really funny to me was right at the beginning when Louis talks about his time in the band and he mentions "the friendships, the bonds, the relationship" or something along those lines? I was like the relationship singular??

There was a moment where they show Harry and Louis hugging and several people audibly gasped and then the entire theater started giggling.

I didn't notice this during the film, but apparently they show a license plate that says "HS-FR-258" ??

At the very end of the movie, during the credits, they play OOMS and a bunch of people in the theatre got up and went down in front of the screen to dance which was ADORABLE.

#mine #aotv #aotv documentary #aotv spoilers #personal #i'm sure i forgot a lot but there you go #i don't regret going to see it btw #but idk if i wanna go a second time

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nestasgalpal · 2 years

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After reading ACOWAR, I have realized that moving to the Illyrian camps will be a huge hurdle in Feyre and Rhysand’s relationship. The culture of the camps is so different than the one in Velaris. In Velaris, females are free to do what they please. They can interact with the opposite sex, they can speak to males and they can have careers. While in Illyria, they must look at the ground in the presence of males (which is something I think Feyre would forget to do, they must contribute to the camps (which is something that I can see conflicting with her duties as High Lady) and they must defer to the males around them (which will irritate Feyre as she has always been outspoken). I think Feyre will struggle with adhering to these laws, and it will cause many problems. How do you think they will cope with these things?

Hi! I won't spoil anything about ACOFAS or ACOSF if the last book you read was ACOWAR, but yes, I cannot picture Feysand in Illyria either.

In that place Feysand could never be themselves freely because of what is expected from their gender. It would be a lose-lose situation because being untrue to their values would make both miserable. But deciding they simply won't accept Illyria's culture and acting as if they were in Velaris would unleash conflict, whether they are right about the unfair power dynamics between men and women or not.

But I will tell you something: when I say they would be themselves and act as equals, Feyre using her authority and everything, I don't think they would do it for other reason than insisting on their moral superiority. I don't see them any time in the future putting any effort into changing the status quo. Every time we've heard them describe Illyria, they've painted it and its people as uncivilized savages. I am a white woman, so I cannot speak for racial minorities, but it for sure feels like both Rhysand and Feyre look down at illyrians and almost use them as a way to feel better about themselves. They see the misogyny and only think, "oh, that is bad. Good thing we are better than them and Rhysand would never do that to me/Feyre won't have to endure that". They see what happens in the camps and I don't see them processing it beyond how it affects them in particular.

I know Feyre has been High Lady for a brief period of time, but even before that, her reaction to how things work there was never "I must work to change this". I was only, "Rhysand is the only one who cares. He is so good for not agreeing". And for the record, it's not just Feyre: no female character from the Inner Circle (you know, the people in the highest positions of power in the entire court) shows any intention to intervene, what they do feels more like nodding in disapproval.

I blame SJM for this, it's not Feyre-hate. Even though respecting women should be the bare minimum, and maybe specially because respecting women is the bare minimum, I think illyrians are used as a plot device to enhance Rhysand, who in reality has achieved nothing in 500 years of ruling over them in his "fervent desire to help those women".

Feysand would never fit in Illyria because when they look at those people, they only see savages who mistreat their women instead of what they actually are: the Night Court's people. It is quite literally Feysand's job to look after their citizens, provide for them by managing the court's resources and step by step moving the society forward. Instead, with both illyrians and hewn city's citizens, it almost seems like they are undeserving of their mighty rulers, who don't even care about them enough to try. Instead of ruling for their people, Feysand have chosen a city to love because they fit in it, and have left the rest of their court to rot, picturing themselves as the heroes because "they are different", "they are dreamers who can look beyond prejudice".

I am happy for the members of the inner circle who found a safe space away from the cultures that tried to kill them, but it saddens me that they never looked back. Mor escaped her abusive family, but what about the hundreds of other women suffering the same fate because they weren't the High Lord's cousin? I love that the bastards found a new family who took care of them… but now that all of them are in positions of power, why do they hate on the entirety of their race instead of actually using their ruling power to help the unprivileged? Again, isn't it their job?

Feyre has disrespected illyrian culture enough by taking their wings as a symbol of her power, while illyrian women (who she has done nothing to help or even thought about beyond how Rysand's worry about them makes him a perfect husband) have them clipped. If she went and moved there while keeping that sense of superiority she has towards them, oh boy, not even Cassian could stop that uprising. They would never fit there because they give back the same hate they get from illyrians. Illyrians are too misogynistic to accept Feysand's dynamic, but Feysand are too classist and racist to even try to change that.

#feysand #anti feysand #sjm critical

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imasimpforstevengrant · 1 year

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THRICE (Chapter 2)

Summary:

Second telling of Marc Spector and his personal struggles. Feeling free for the first time in his life, Marc Spector relishes in the joys of the flesh alongside Layla.

Author's note: this takes place immediately after the last episode. A lot of lines are taken from the first volume of Moon Knight, when Marc meets Marlene in Egypt. Fluff, reconciliation and smut with feelings ahead. Enjoy.

WC: 5.722

ECHOES (PART II)

Marc counted three angsty days where he stood in guard, looking for her. He had been unable to sleep since he had seen her picture. Her sweet smile haunts him every sleepless night, which prompts him to silently beg for forgiveness.

But the worst thing was returning to the place where this crusade against evil had started: there were plenty of corpses surrounding the area, some of them near weapons, others near the bonfires. Marc ran through the darkness, like an evil entity.

Those he encountered in his way met a gruesome end. If they didn't cooperate, it was worse. Only one was wise enough to let slip another piece of information: she always moved at night. Marc looked at his surroundings. He would never forgive himself if something happened to her.

Suddenly, he heard gunshots. Marc realized it was the same platoon from that fateful night, but now they were after an intruder in the cold sand. It was a hooded figure, who soon fell to the ground.

As soon as the man ripped the hood, a curly mane and a feminine face warned him about her identity.

Marc's heart almost stopped beating.

The mercenary took the small bag she carried, full of relics. This served as the ultimate evidence of her antics. The man announced with a loud scream that it was, indeed, Layla El-Faouly. Bushman smiled with perverse satisfaction, taking a rifle while distancing himself from his group.

"I know who you are," Layla spat defiantly , "villagers speak about you with fear."

The executioner came closer to her, but much to his surprise, Layla showed to be a skilled fighter, resisting to be reduced. However, her small form didn't avoid being stunned by a man who later dragged her to the camp. Bushman took her face aggressively, mocking her antics and gesturing to his convoy to form an improvised fire squad pointing at her.

The cruel -and downright coward - move made Marc howl like a beast, like a warning. Never in his life he would forget the petrified expressions on their faces. He didn't think twice to fly towards the area, throwing the sharp moon darts to a few, tackling the ones still standing.

"Look out!" He screamed, snatching her from the ground. Everything had been so fast that she didn't even protest. Marc locked the woman in his arms while shielding her with his body from the bullets. He heard the voices shouting to leave, ceasing the fire. Marc then took the opportunity to fly away with her.

As soon as they reach the ground, near the raided temple, hostility is all the former mercenary receives. Marc gives her the space she needs, for her to become comfortable. She looks for shelter behind a column partially devoured by a dense, almost hellish darkness.

"Who are you?" She hissed in Arabic.

"I'm not your enemy" Marc abandons any defensive posture to gain her trust. His armour fades away in swirling bandages, leaving his usual navy blue shirt, khaki pants and heavy boots for her to see.

"You're not Egyptian," she muttered, stepping back.

"No, I'm American" he whispered, "I didn't mean to scare you…"

Her look was pure outrage, but Marc wasn't offended by her ferrous self defense. He found it impressive, given his status as a supernatural vigilante.

Marc tried to get closer to her, but Layla just trembled, huddling against the wall.

"You're dressed like them!" She frowned, though now terror slowly took over her face, "people like you murdered my father!"

"You're wrong"

But Marc knew she was speaking the truth… in a certain way.

"Did they offer you a lot of money for me, right?"

"Listen… I know it's crazy, I understand your distrust, but if we don't cooperate, you'll end up dead!"

"Are my chances better with a hooded, killing ghost at my side?!"

Before Marc could say anything, a gust of bullets obliged them to get down. Layla ran to hide in the dark, accompanied by a gun. Not letting fear dominate her senses, the archeologist proved to be an incredible marksman. He bought her some time, clearing the way. The golden darts pierced heads, scoundrels that tried to shoot her from distance. But Marc felt the situation was slipping through his fingers when two men cornered her.

Then he suddenly blacked out.

All he could remember were the wet, creeks of blood all splattered over his face, dripping down his neck. His back hurt and later on, he realised he had been stabbed. A sepulchral silence follows, his fists had chunks of smashed skulls… just like that night.

Such a pity that immortality did not mean being immune to pain. Like a macabre payback, the pain just seemed greater. He almost tripped, supporting himself over a carved, rectangular rock. His chest goes up and down slowly, watching carefully that the broken rib didn't puncture the lung.

The memory triggered a startled jolt. The irrational fear of uncontrolled violence claiming innocent victims sieges his mind. He turned around, panicked. All he found were executioners scattered over the sand.

A weak moan of pain dissipated the panic, leading him to pay attention to his right. Layla was weakly trying to get up, taking steps towards the doorless fate to finally exit, not bothering to even talk to him. Marc couldn't sense any other feeling in her face that wasn't anger and contempt. He thought it was poetic justice for his involvement with a war criminal, whose greed had cost numerous innocent lives.

He attempted to talk, but he knew it would be futile. The broken rib was too much for him to handle without remaining silent. A whimper resonates in the air.

A few seconds passed and, against all odds, he felt a rushed jogging. Marc lifts his head, gasping as he finally had a closer look to those dark, deep eyes.

"I can't believe it! You took these men out by yourself!" she rushed to see if he had a mortal wound. Marc would never forget how the expression morphed from fear to worry, as moonlight revealed his bloodstained hands.

"Yeah" he gasped, placing his hand over hers once it reached his heart, "but… Bushman has escaped. I wanted his blood…" he almost confesses the truth about her father.

"You saved me, and you're alive. Nothing else matters" Marc Spector experiments a soaring euphoria when the recently rescued archeologist holds him so both can reach the exit.

He groans in pain, stopping for a moment.

"I want to know the name of my saviour," she whispered, cleaning the blood in his face with water, which she stored in a canteen. The former mercenary took it to drink it, quenching the thirst.

"Spector. Marc Spector."

The soldier felt tempted to kiss those pink, full lips. But another question vanishes his desires.

"Who do you work for? How do you know me?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you… It's a long story…" he chuckled.

"We'll have plenty of time if we get out of here."

Marc didn't say a word. He just enjoyed the silence, slightly broken by their breathing. He wondered how it would sound… in another situation. Marc palmed his forehead, daunting the intrusive thought.

"I'm sorry for what I said… about you being a murderer…"

The former mercenary gulped.

"I wouldn't be any different from that murderer if I wished you death."

"I don't blame you," he forgot the night and stars as he got lost in her deep eyes. In his heart, a feeling is nesting. An unknown, strange - but pleasant- feeling causes his belligerent ways to give in. For the first time in so many years, before the horror that started him as a killer, he saw a glimpse of hope. Abandoning his defenses serves as a soporific relax to his mind, especially when her fingers reach his neck to cleanse the remaining blood.

An open wound near his jugular startles him. A pained groan scrapes his throat. She recoils her hand, fearful.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–" Marc quickly shook his head, setting aside any fear of being hurt. With some difficulty, he lifts one hand to place it over her shoulder. Marc shudders when she doesn't reject him, instead showing an astounding responsiveness, giving him a puzzled, yet immensely compassionate gaze, as if she had an idea of the eternal chaos corroding his mind.

"Your name… I want to know your name," Marc weakly muttered. He knew that slipping her name would raise suspicion. It was better to play ignorant this time, so this precious moment wasn't ruined.

"Layla…" she replied, not taking her gaze off him, "say it!"

He couldn't.

Seconds later, the most wonderful thing happened: Her arms surrounded his neck, engulfing him into a tight embrace. There was such legitimate, unspoken gratitude in tender gesture. It reminded him that, even if he was now a caped crusader, he was still Marc Spector. He felt so high with her smell, hiding his face in her neck. The embrace Layla gifted him that day they met reminded him of his humanity.

Maybe being the daughter of a victim of his own doing paved the path to redemption.

Marc could feel it in his veins, letting this silent mirth slowly taking over his mind. Intoxicated by the promise of love, Spector glides his hands over her back and much to his surprise, Layla tightened her grip around his neck, to which he gladly consented.

Soon, he locked the delicate waist in his arms, feeling the feminine form against his body, enticed by this new contact that didn't end with broken noses, bleeding chests or mauled limbs.

But exhaustion overcame his strengths, fainting into her arms. It wasn't bad, for a dead man.

-----

Khonshu had granted him breath.

Layla gave him the desire to live. He had always been a slave, first of his mind, and then… Khonshu.

Though he deeply resented it, he had resigned himself to his condition. But Layla changed things. She loved Marc, and also loved Moon Knight.

She's the only one who can look him in the eye and feel calm, in contrast to an evildoer. The only one who can come closer to him, covered in blood, to throw herself to his arms, ending both naked in the bed screaming each other's names. It was the best part.

The happiness lasted for a few years, before the madness took over his life. He then realized that nothing with a horrifying beginning could end well.

First, this newfound love didn't go unnoticed for Khonshu, who regarded his affection as a distraction of his purpose. Marc dared to speak defiantly against him. But that wasn't the hardest thing.

Then, if hiding the truth about her father wasn't enough, Marc also hid his mental illness. Dissociative identity disorder, more precisely. All his life, the ghost of an abusive home and an unfeeling, rancorous mother, had led him to shield himself with alternative personalities which Layla would never know about. It gnawed at his sanity with self deprecating thoughts about being unworthy of Layla's love, for being an indirect responsible for his death, for being a liar.

There were so many things she didn't know about him, because of shame.

But misery doesn't stop there. In pursuit of evil, people tend to step away from what is good. Khonshu was no exception. Love was so powerful, and Marc Spector is specially subdued by it. The deity always found his fragile, broken mind as a gift and his love for her wasn't seen as a distraction anymore, but as an asset to use to his favor. A silent conspiracy contrives to make Marc Spector the perfect vessel for justice.

Being in the middle of a conflict that could destroy the world, Khonshu decides to tear apart Marc's relationship with Layla. The threat of his wife replacing him as his avatar was really useful to push him to push her away.

A pained realization dawns on him: to protect her must hurt her, he couldn't bring himself to cause her any more harm. It was easier to disguise it as estrangement, for her to hate him and so severe contact without a sorrowful farewell.

It was so painful to masquerade his suffering like estrangement, pretending he wanted the divorce when all he wanted was to protect her. He left one day, without explanation.

Elias Spector called him to tell him Wendy Spector had died. The one person who had made his life a living hell had ceased her existence. Marc refused the kind offer of his father to get into the house.

Marc Spector broke down crying, falling to his knees and hitting the kippah several times against the ground. He then, with great regret, held it against his chest, rocking himself to ease the pain. He recovered his breath, kippah still in hand. Something went out of control.

And then he was Steven Grant.

------

He was back in bed, foot still tied with that restraint. Rain poured outside, numberless droplets fell, leaving countless watery traces down the window. Marc sets his gaze on the aquarium, whose two gold fishes swim in silent, harmonious coexistence.

This unusual calmness sent him into another state of unreality. His distorted senses lead him out of the bed, minding the tied ankle. Releasing himself from it, he takes a look at everything that surrounds him. Marc realizes he wasn't covered in blood. There were no more unexplained wounds this time, no monsters to fight, no Harrow or Bushman.

Just silence.

He wandered over the flat, not minding his nakedness. Marc felt safe… and certain unease. He slid the tip of his fingers over the small library he had built as Steven Grant, surprised at himself at the amount of books on a big desk, with a couple of Rubik cubes so he could keep himself distracted from stress.

He kept checking the place, reaching a table. Above it was a bulky gym bag, full of money, his American passport with his real name, guns and ammo. Next to the left, almost hidden at plain sight, were the divorce papers.

Marc fights back the chuckles, but these abruptly end when a muffled yawn breaks the silence. He turned back to the bed. The flannels started moving. The ghostly aspect scares Spector for him to jolt, which in turn, causes his wife to reveal herself. The curly haired beauty looked back at him.

"Marc? What are you doing there? Come back to bed."

He held his breath. This time Layla got up, seeing his unresponsiveness. Marc didn't move an inch, fearful to make a wrong move that could make this dreamlike feel fade away. While heading her steps closer, Layla put on one of Steven's many oversized sweaters.

"You forgot to put some clothes on, huh?" She whispered but he brought her closer to him, embracing her. Her giggles give him life.

"What's gotten into you, Marc?" She threw her arms to his neck. The former mercenary pressed his mouth against hers.

"You." Layla half closes her eyes, giving him a playful stare.

"Don't think you'll distract me with that… Why are you not in bed with me? Please tell me. We promised to not keep any more secrets."

Marc held her face.

"It's because you… me… back together. It's more than I thought I could get."

She placed a curly hair lock behind his ear.

"All this–'' Marc looks around, nervously stammering, "the silence– the freedom, you… This is all I wanted, Layla. It feels so unreal" he shook his head, overwhelmed. She quickly cupped his cheeks to ease his mind.

"I got you. We can handle this together" Layla cooed.

"There are so many things I wish I could tell you… but I don't know– I'm afraid you won't believe me."

Layla rolled her eyes, scoffing.

"Well, you got resurrected by an Egyptian God, I became the avatar of Taweret for a short time, we stopped Ammit and Harrow before they could cause a global catastrophe. Nothing seems unbelievable anymore."

Marc lowered his head, ashamed.

"You can tell me."

"I thought you didn't want any explanation from me after everything I kept from you."

"Things have changed. Besides, Taweret told me my father is in the field of Reeds."

Marc's face beams with a hopeful expression.

"She also told me you did all you could to save him before Bushman killed him."

"I would have given my life to save him, Layla. My partner… My partner got so greedy and–" Marc took a deep breath, fighting back the sobs, "I thought at first he was going to raid a military area, but there were just civilians. Unarmed civilians'' he covered his face, guilt causing his eyes to burn with remorseful tears, "then… then I met you… and I wanted to tell you the truth, from the beginning. But I couldn't."

Layla nodded. Marc held her hands and kissed them through the tears. He then took her sweater off, bringing her body against his. Marc sighs relieved when feels her bare chest against his.

"You protected me and you were gone so fast I couldn't believe it. Seeing your body over that pool–" she remembers the silent, short goodbye with a furtive kiss on his forehead. The memory of it caused Layla to tighten the grip around his neck. Her words are a balm, and now Marc feels tears of joy bathing his cheeks.

"I never stopped loving you, Marc."

"Me neither, baby…" He explodes, desperately kissing the side of her neck, sliding his fingers over the skin of the nape. Marc nuzzled into her shoulder, like a needful feline. He took a deep breath.

Why was it easier to express desire than to express a feeling? How could he start to put in words a suffering that was indescribable? How could he open up about the matter that carved the idea of unworthiness regarding Layla's love and caring?

"You didn't sign the papers when you sent them to me," Layla reminds him and Marc can't be more grateful with Steven for not signing the documents.

"I don't want to divorce you! I never wanted to! Those lonely nights, without you… longing for your touch. I felt I was a living dead, that I just lived to serve Khonshu…" He held her body as if his life depended on it.

Layla gladly allows his hands to roam over her curves, as if exploring them for the first time. Marc feels the arousal boiling his blood.

"I couldn't put an end to us… I couldn't bring myself to sign them. I can't be away from you again" his voice was full of regret. She felt the hot tears running down her shoulder, "I won't survive it."

Layla caressed his back, moved by how much he actually loved her. Giving his life was one thing. But baring his soul was another. Harrow's voice resounds in her mind, concerning the truth about Marc.

"He's in agony. In more pain than anyone could bear."

Much to her surprise, her husband lets an angry hiss escape his mouth.

"You know what? Fuck this." Marc turned around urgently. He grabbed the paper furiously to throw them into the bin. Layla hummed, approving what she saw.

"I don't want to wake up covered in blood anymore."

"Then what is it that you want?" Layla asked seductively. Marc ran his hands up and down her waist.

"I want my wife to make love to me."

Layla grabbed his hand to carry him to bed. Once she turned her back on him, Marc held her passionately, kissing her neck and then panting against her ear.

"I missed you… I missed your body" Marc glides both hands over her breasts, squeezing and fondling the orbed forms carefully, "it's been so long…"

Layla gasped as she felt his hands lowering down her waist, growling like a hungry beast when his fingers parted her thighs, obtaining her intimacy. She helped to spice things up by spreading them wider. Marc hummed, approving what he saw.

"I'm not made of stone, Layla," he joked.

"But you surely are cold like one" she giggled but Marc impatiently grazed her flesh with his fingers, eliciting loud moans that sent him to the edge.

"Does this seem too cold for you, wife?"

She stiffened her spine as the arousal spread over her femininity, numbing her thighs, making it more difficult to stand. But Marc is strong, holding the trembling form in his arms, labouring on behalf of her pleasure.

Layla looks down, delighted at the hands rummaging through her moistened intimacy. She moaned, lolling her head back when her hand joined him to work to her satisfaction in perfect tune.

"You really are in the mood, are you?" Layla chuckled, just before Marc covered her mouth with his. Famished kisses made their lips worn out, becoming more intense as Marc lays her down the bed, having her at his mercy like he loves to.

On any other night, Marc would be busy feeling cartilages and bones crushed under his knuckles. There is something narcotic about placing himself above her without malicious intent, no more terrified faces, no more blood staining his hands or conscience.

Placed on the bed with utter care, Layla sets her hands beside her head, conceding Marc her wholeness. The former mercenary marvels at her divine nudity, tilting his head while deciding what to do or where to touch.

Layla doesn't say anything. She loves her perspective, which allows her eyes to behold Marc's boyish beauty. She glides her fingers in his neck, loving the harsh lines on it. He smiled as they descended on his chest, moving him to mimic the action, though with a difference.

Marc placed himself above her completely. Layla looked up to him when she sensed a caress in her abundant mane. Her eyelids flutter, provoking him to take intimacy to another level. He stares at her, hypnotized by her unusual beauty, in those beautiful freckles over her nose and cheeks, her soft, golden skin.

Cherishing his wife with his eyes wasn't enough now, which moved him to touch her chest, tracing invisible long lines that soon went over her waist and belly.

Layla twists her spine over the white, still warm sheets, body yearning for his attention. She slowly spreads her legs, proud of how her sensuality crumbles his usual coldness, proven by his eager, impatient expression on his face.

"Show me how you did it while I was away," Marc demanded.

"Do what?" Layla teases him, despite knowing what.

Marc looked at her glistening womanhood.

"Touch yourself," He hissed, staring at the part exposed for him. The former mercenary licked his lips as her hand made her way between her legs.

Layla closed her eyes, whispering his name, remembering those painful nights when the memory of his touches was all she had. Her euphonious sounds just made him harder and harder once she circles the small nub, hidden like a pearl. She was sweating, curls sticking to her face while pressing her head against the pillow.

"Marc… please…" Layla begged, fighting the cramps in her legs to gain stillness.

"Please what? I wanna hear you say it." Marc demanded it to convince himself this was real.

"I want you deep inside of me, Marc" she whispered between moans, stopping for a moment, "I want it—" but Spector continued, much to her surprise.

"There…there…" Layla mouthed, rolling her eyes.

"Yes?"

"Oh, God– Marc!" Layla couldn't keep talking as her husband increased his attention on her intimacy, causing her to ragingly rear up, "I want it …dripping off me."

Marc grinned, too proud of himself. He refocuses on the wet, silky folds first, as if becoming familiar once again with the part he longed so much to be wrapped around. Layla supported herself on her elbows briefly, desperately looking for something to cling to. Her body violently jolted again, now turned into a nervous mess when her legs became numb, leading to a sharp contrast with the excessive sensitivity forming in her delicacy.

"Marc! Marc– I'm close– so clo—" but he didn't let her finish, since a predatory move had him pouncing over her sex, catching the twitchy pinkness with his mouth, carefully tugging it.

Spector would never forget the violent spasm shaking Layla's body, trapping him between her thighs. Neither would he forget those loud and mellifluent cries for him.

"You're sweet in every way" he whispered before tasting the nectar eagerly, giving her hips a bruisy grip, doing his best to obtain every drop. She ruffled his hair as Marc detaches his lips for a moment from the tender, silky privacy just to sink his nose in her moistened entrance. Layla feels hot tears running down, wanting those thick, raven curls to uncoil in her fingers while frolicking with them.

His chuckles vibrate through her tremulous form, amazed by her futile attempt to increment the friction, caressing her thighs and well knowing his touches would leave her ruined.

And he loves it.

The routine was thrilling and alluring, motivating him to grant her wish. Marc impatiently crawled up like a feline, watching the dumb smile tracing his wife's lips as she recovered her breath after such pleasure devastated her capacity to think or say anything coherent.

"Perfect," he knew the magnitude of her joy when Layla (apparently) didn't realize she was about to get her wish granted.

It only made it better.

Marc positioned himself behind her, heedfully turning her body around so his limbs would imprison his wife, holding her against his chest. He panted like an animal and Layla can feel his breath in her ear. Marc slowly lifts her leg, teasing her burning folds with his rigid manhood before guiding himself in.

That finally made Layla react, stiffening her back as her vocal expressions echoed louder. Marc rejoices when she shifts her hips, rubbing herself against him to get more of this addictive, intoxicating friction.

"You're gonna be my good girl," Marc growls, licking her neck.

"I'll be!" Layla desperately whines, "I'll be good, Marc! I beg you—"

His toothy grin gives her enough air to verbalise her wish.

"I want you!" She screamed through her tears, "please! Please!"

The former mercenary made his way inside of her through a fervent move. For a moment, he felt his heart forgot how to beat as her wet, warm walls held him captive. Marc didn't move. Layla didn't complain, choosing to focus on the sharp feeling of being fully filled by him.

"One of these nights you're gonna drive me crazy too," Layla sensually whispered but her playful tease just incited him to give her a sharp thrust.

"Quite frankly… I hope so" he grunted, overcoming the initial trance to enjoy how she adjusted at his intrusion, reaching a spot her fingers could never reach.

His whole body yearns for her. Layla knows it well. She knows so well that part of him, how his despair was disguised as dominance. His kisses now cover her forehead, her cheek and her lips, once she turns around. Everything in her screams life and Marc longs to feel his wife stirring under his touch, sick of this hurtful abstinence. Their act proves that he is not a living sarcophagus, sinking his nose in her dark mane he missed so much during his self imposed solitude, delighted in those sounds that made her skin vibrate.

Layla rocks her hips, shivering when his hand reaches the spot where both were tightly joined.

"You really are enjoying this, do you?" Layla smirked, coquettishly rubbing her foot on his calf.

He loved her smile, invigorating him to explore her intimacy at a faster pace, soft sobs that ended in desperate praises as a result of it. Layla repeats his name over and over again, while dealing with the intense pleasure his unmerciful pace caused her. He silences his frantic, uncontrolled moans through a bite, squeezing her breast.

"Again," Layla demands. He granted her wish. It only managed to make her more tense around him. Marc twitches excitedly inside of her, sensing the climax coming closer.

He stopped for a moment, catching his breath. Making her hair aside, he contemplates the reddened zone, whose vestige accuses his action. Such pleasurable soreness reminded him that he was no stranger to pain.

Marc had become so familiar with the suffering since the death of his brother, the hatred of his mother and the abandonment of his father that he felt that he only lived to suffer, serve and bleed. His fearsome and unstable mettle had earned him a reputation as a man he couldn't be messed with.

That was another facet, another mask to hide his misery, accustomed to the horror of military violence under the relentless Middle Eastern sun.

The echo of voices chanting his name during clandestine fights reverberated in his brain. He remembered his nose, broken and bleeding, but always standing victorious over whoever was his opponent. Marc believed that he would die with bullets through his chest or by shooting himself in the head. Even when he was second-in-command with Bushman, not even the large sums of money made him happy.

Until Layla appeared in his life.

Marc fought those thoughts of her by thrusting harder and harder inside her, loving her without words, maddened with pleasure as he felt Layla welcome him eagerly. He remembered the night he had met her, that embrace that started it all… the first time he had given himself to her.

Love. Layla. Every night had the same exciting ending. What was not to love about this? Both lying on the bed, dissolved in each other's bodies. Marc needed to love her with an inordinate passion, delighting in those curves, quivering in his presence. The nights with her gave his madness a special air. He felt that so much love could actually hurt him but it was something he would gladly accept.

He wanted to tell her so many things as he possessed her, reliving those intimate moments more vividly, knowing that now Marc could be himself with her no matter how fucked up he was.

Moved by the desire to peak, Marc circles her nervous, swollen bundle. Layla writhed like a dying animal, wondering if she would be capable of resisting the building orgasm. Marc loved to see her like this, surrendering to his mercy, edging her to then feel her fluttering core tightening around him over and over again, wishing to make Layla forget her name until there wasn't except him inside her.

When the apogee of their act finally hit them, Marc felt alive. He had never felt so alive, mesmerized by her sounds, priding himself in his manhood. He keeps sinking his hardened flesh, wishing he could relish in this warm, tight captivity Layla offered forever.

He found the strength to give her body one more enthusiastic, violent slam. It caused the swollen, overstimulated length to perfectly fit into her.

"Hold still… don't move," he clutches her body to his. She clawed at his neck, spreading her legs a bit more to allow him better access.

She moans at his hand, pressing her intimacy, maybe because the hot feeling of her walls flexing around him were too much for him to abandon her so quickly. He places his hand to caress her and himself, not caring if his seed erupted from Layla the more he tried to bury himself. Marc feels how a few drops create a pearly creek down her thigh.

Layla recovers her breath, allowing her heart to calm down and her body to refresh from the hot heat. There was something so erotic about them stilling, sensing the crude feeling of her sore femininity refusing to let him go.

A profound emptiness takes over his heart when he breaks contact with her body, though it has an mischievous intention. Layla whined lowly in protest, despite her complete passiveness suggested otherwise.

Marc caressed her hips before doing what he intended. Pampering her body was a key to extending this to dawn, for the better. Layla softly shrugged softly when she felt the blunt tip brushing the slickness in her thigh. Before she could articulate a word, a tickle in her sex finally made her realize that Marc intended to trace every thin, niveous rivulet back inside her.

“You can’t get enough of it, can you?” she purred seductively. Just desperate sounds leaving his mouth serve as an answer.

Layla regained strength once her voice quieted down, turning around to hold him beneath her in order to straddle his hips. Marc's face beams with euphoric enthusiasm.

“Don’t waste any of it, husband,“ she whispered. Marc smiled, free to touch her soft forms, her sweating curves, the wet hair. Layla impaled herself in him, snatching the little coherence Marc had left. He took delight as he felt the pulsating pressure surrounding him once again, delighting her body despite it seemed too much for her to bear, as her loud moans made clear. His hands gave her hips a bruisy squeeze to fight back the breathtaking pleasure, resisting this avid, ardent onslaught of love.

"I'm just doing what you said," Marc muttered, hardly able to elaborate a coherent sentence. A devilish toothy grin traces his lips.

"I know what I said," she groaned, processing the soreness between her legs following the rushed invasion, "it's my turn now, baby."

He was trying desperately to keep his eyes open, not wanting to miss to see her intimacy down her thighs fully merged with his. But once Layla begins to ride him, Marc closes his eyes, triumphant and ecstatic.

Neither of them come to know about Steven covering his ears and face to respect their intimacy, having accidentally watched them at first. The diaphanous glass of the aquarium allows a clear perspective of their lovemaking. The mild mannered man couldn't help but to marvel at her body, dyed in bluish hues as his eyes contemplated her through the water. Guilt stirred his heart, but he's glad to see Layla happy after their ordeal.

The other reflection just stares, petrified with silent awe.

Or maybe with homicidal envy.

#oscar isaac #oscar isaac moon knight #may calamawy #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fic #marvel moon knight #moon knight #moon knight imagine #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockey #marc spector x layla el faouly #steven grant x layla el faouly #jake lockley x layla el faouly #moon knight smut #moon knight 2022

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queenofthursday6599-blog · 1 year

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You know, someday someone will write a Bioshock story that has these guys in it:

Because the idea of survivor camps hidden away in different parts of Rapture, is just too logical not to show up in a fanfic somewhere.

There has to be at least a small subset of people in Rapture who never got into splicing. It can’t literally just be Sinclair, Grace, Sophia Lamb, Tenenbaum, and Stanly who never touched the stuff and lived to 1968.

Like the couple that tried to escape in that crashed bathysphere that we find early on into Bioshock 2. They don’t sound like splicers, they sound completely coherent (something splicers don’t tend to sound).

I just love the survivor idea so much. That and how there would have been be a pneumo trading system with them. Which I think could have replaced the vending machine system, at least in some parts of Rapture.

Such as Dionysus Park, where it’s been flooded since before the war. So all of the vending machines (or at least their content) should have logically been ruined.

Different traders would focus on different things, as you can tell the picture above is of the ammo trader’s inventory.

It’s just that when I really got into looking up removed content from the games this is one of the things I was sad never made it into the final game. So I’ve always wanted to see someone write a fic exploring the idea.

So I’ve got fic idea below, involving Eleanor’s childhood friend Amir being a survivor if you want to read any of it:

Personally I’ve always wanted to see a fic with Eleanor’s childhood friend Amir turning out to be a survivor. Just because Eleanor deserves nice things, and should be able to escape Rapture with her childhood friend on a stolen submarine like she’d wanted too as a child.

Also it’d just be a great reunion anyways, because you know both Eleanor and Amir would think the other is either dead, or spliced to the point it’d be less horrible to think they’re dead.

The survivor camps are supposed to be isolated from the rest of Rapture. No splicers or splicing among the survivors means no reason for little sisters to come around because there would be nothing to gather. The survivors wouldn’t care about Lamb and what she has to say. She’s just another adam obsessed leader of the most recent cult of personality. Just like Atlas, and Fontaine, and Ryan. Everything she says just sounds like weird drug cult nonsense to them.

Amir might not even know Eleanor survived the war at all if he doesn’t know her last name. Because my guess is that the last he heard of her was that she was seen around town as a Little Sister, and then the civil war broke out and she was gone. They were both pretty young kids back then, so Amir could very well not even know or remember Eleanor’s last name was Lamb. [After all, we the audience never learn Amir’s last name from Eleanor. He’s just Amir.] So even if he does hear Sophia’s sermons about the “People’s Daughter” and the random Splicer’s ramblings, and that girl being referred to as Eleanor. The idea that it could be the Eleanor he knew from childhood doesn’t even come to mind.

Eleanor who punched him in the face without an ounce of hesitation the first day they met. Who was sneaking out of her house so frequently her controlling mother installed a security system to keep her inside. Who, when they were kids, once looked him in the eye and asked, completely seriously, if he was a dog eating dog in a human suit. He’s supposed to think that girl is this weird cult’s all forgiving, all knowing, messiah figure?

Eleanor was feral, and Amir knew that. It’s the whole reason they were friends.

So there’s only 4 options in Amir’s mind: A) Eleanor died as a little sister during the New Years Eve Riot, because that’s when she disappeared, and a lot of people died during the riot. B) Eleanor survived the New Years Eve Riot, but later died as a little sister. Death was very common among little sisters, it’s why little girls were worth so much in Rapture. C) Eleanor survived the riot, and was one of the lucky little sisters to get swept up by Jack Ryan and Dr. Tenenbaum and is now living a normal life on the surface, with Rapture being just a distant memory. [God does Amir hope this is what happened.] Or lastly D) Eleanor survived as a little sister all the way through to being turned into a big sister. And she’s now one of those shrieking, murderous giants running around Rapture. [The option Amir dreads the most.]

Eleanor on the other hand definitely hasn’t heard hide nor hair of Amir since she got swept up in the Gatherer program. Sophia didn’t want Eleanor to have friends anyways, and Eleanor was actively breaking out of the house in order to go see Amir and the rest of her friends.

So when Sophia found Eleanor again she 100% kept her under lock and key, and certainly wouldn’t have told Eleanor anything about her old friends. Friendship meant a more significant emotional attachment. Friendship meant favoritism among the masses. A flaw in the utopian mindset that Sophia was obsessed with molding her child to have.

So Eleanor assumes that Amir was killed as a child during the civil war, or that he’s possibly a splicer, but she finds the second idea highly unlikely. The idea that Amir could have survived as a non-splicer survivor doesn’t really cross her mind, as the non-splicer survivors rarely cross her mind.

Eleanor is in a prison and can only see and hear into the world beyond where the little sisters are. The non-splicer survivor camps had long since blocked up the little sister vents that lead to their camps. Due to the fact that a big daddy would never be too far behind one. Along with the possibility of a splicer following the adam rich smell of a little sister into their camp area.

Most non-splicer survivors who are scavengers (who are the ones how leave their camp/safe area to find supplies) tend to be older than Eleanor (and Amir). After all, parents who managed to keep their kids alive, sure as hell wouldn’t be trying to send them off into the dangerous splicer ridden battle field that is the city beyond their safe area.

So even when she gains the eyes and ears of the little sisters, Eleanor doesn’t ever see proof of Amir still being alive. Or even being a still living splicer from the memories of dead splicers.

#bioshock 2 #bioshock 2 survivor concept #bioshock fic idea

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sankta-starkova · 7 months

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LETTERMAN

035; the real campers of shallow lake

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

summary: the one where ej and andy get to spend time together in the camp until the production gets in the way, threatening to ruin their summer and relationship

wordcount: 1.6k

A frustrated Andy walked into the barn with the others to see EJ, Carlos and Val standing at the front.

EJ smiled at her and she gave a half hearted smile back. She hadn't been able to talk to him about the letter yet but would do it after the rehearsal.

She had tossed and turned all night about it. She couldn't understand why he would tell Val about it instead of her, they used to tell each other everything.

"Thanks for coming in early guys. We've We've working on a way to save the show and give Corbin and that Channing guy the reality style juice they want," Carlos explained as he gestured to a board.

"I'm sorry, save the show?" Gina questioned, looking up at the three confused.

"He just wants a little more excitement from us, a little mo-" EJ started but Carlos cut him off.

He cut him off, "He thinks we're boring!" everyone gasped, shocked as to how he could think that, "He's actually missing our rehearsal to scout out the kids at deep lake camp in Temecula,"

Carlos looked at the board, pulling off a slide, "But not to worry, we have a plan and it starts with 5 letters," he explained, "The real campers of shallow lake, RCOSL,"

"You know how normally we act like regular people, we pick up on social cues and care about feelings?" EJ explained. He knew this was his last chance to prove to his father that he could take a gap year and he wasn't going to blow it.

"The key to any great reality show is the three Bs. Bombshells, betrayals and Bitch slaps," he explained.

Everyone gasped at the language they used, like it was a Disney channel show and squaring was prohibited, "Can he say that?" Gina questioned.

"Look, I love the housewives more than anyone but how are we gonna pull this off when we're real students who don't have millions to burn?" Kourtney asked, not understanding the logistics of the show.

Val turned over the board to show a bunch of squares with question marks drawn in them and labels underneath. Carlos read out all the names, explaining that was what made the perfect show.

"You Kourt, will be the Judgey one," Carlos said as Val placed a picture of Kourtney on the label.

Ricky signed, "But do we want to look like villains on TV?" He questioned and Andy agreed with him, voicing her concern.

Ricky was labelled the jilted ex, Ashlyn was the one with the dark past, Maddox was the cryer, Gina was the one with the catchphrase, EJ was here for the wrong reasons, Andy is his high school romance, Vals the shrink, Jets the bad boy and Carlos is the instigator.

"I know that was a lot but did everyone get that?" He asked and everyone nodded, about to get up when he continued talking, "Good, cause there's more,"

Carlos walked back before quickly grabbing a clipboard with four goals written on it, "Someone needs to run out crying, someone needs to get slapped, someone needs to throw a drink at someone and someone needs to get caught on a hot mic,"

"Channings coming in fifteen," Val said and everyone got ready for the performance of their lives.

By the time he got there, everyone was ready for the first song they were doing, a little bit of you with the two children who were playing the younger Anna and Elsa.

Carlos caused fake drama as the instigator and the kids didn't understand, having not been invited to the pre rehearsal meeting.

They all managed to fulfill their roles throughout the day. Gina and Kourtney started a fight which ended in the first tick box of the day (throwing water on someone) which made Carlos' day.

Maddox cried and Jet tried to be a bad boy but it didn't go well - he wasn't great at the role. Kourtney was judgier than usual and of course Andy and EJ had to pretend everything was okay.

For him it was but for Andy it wasn't. She couldn't find the right time to pull him aside and talk about it but bottling up all of her anger and sadness was driving her crazy.

The day felt like it went slowly due to the added pressure of the secret weighing on her. She had to find out what it was about.

Andy hoped it was just them miscommunicating but she was going through so much right now that she couldn't deal with him being halfway across the country when she needed him most.

The group all stood together at the end of the day in front of Channing, hoping that he would approve the show to keep running.

"Well, I underestimated you guys," he said, sighing his bag over his shoulder, "What a mess, in an award winning way,"

Once he left everyone cheered, proud that they had managed to save the show by creating even more drama in the group.

Andy didnt feel like celebrating though, she still felt the heavy weight of knowing EJ's secret. She didn't think he'd do something like that to her.

He quickly rushed back in, announcing that he had forgotten about the group photo.

Everyone quickly got back into position and because of their overly romantic part to play, Channing placed EJ and Andy together, not noticing the tension between the two.

"Pretty boy in the bottom, get a little closer to her, yeah, perfect," He said as EJ wrapped his arm around her, her head stiffly falling on his shoulder.

"All right smile guys, we're almost home," EJ said enthusiastically to the group.

Andy scoffed, "Almost home as in salt lake or Saint Louis?" She whispered so only he would hear, looking up at him.

At that moment, Channing snapped the photos, taking a few more. To anyone else it might look like two lovers staring into each others eyes but it was a lot more then that.

EJ tried to smile but he couldn't help but feel the guilt of knowing he'd been caught as he realised he should have told her earlier

"Thanks again, the Bleu man's gonna be so happy," Channing said before he walked out, taking his camera with him.

The couple stood up, walking away and the group started to bicker, Val stepping in to try to calm the group.

The group gasped as they found out that Maddox and Jet were ziblings seconds before Jet stormed out of the room.

"I have done a terrible thing!" Announced Carlos, realising hes been shipping the two.

EJ walked over to Andy, "Whatever you saw in the letter, it's not what it looks like," he promised

She chuckled, "St Louis Caswell? I thought we were spending this year together, we were gonna go to college together," Andy said, frustration evident in her voice.

"And we will. Dad wants me to go to caswell success school but if this musical works out I can change his mind, for us," he said, "I'm not leaving without a fight,"

Andy sighed, feeling defeated, "I told you something that I'd been keeping from you and you couldn't even admit to this, I gave you every opportunity," she explained.

"Elton John Caswell, I am so disappointed in you," Ashlyn said and everyone gasped at the reveal of EJs real name. If Andy wasn't mad at him she would have laughed but instead she turned away from him.

"I need you at home right now Caswell. I need to be able to come back to something that I know will be there," she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

It was breaking his heart to look at her like this, to see her so upset, "I'm going to make it work, you know my dad's an ass, but I can prove that I'm good enough for you," he explained.

"I need some air," she said, turning the other way and running out of the barn, the doors slamming closed behind her.

"Andy, please," he called out, watching as Maddox ran out after her.

Maddox found Andy sitting on a bench by the edge of the field. EJ had taken her to it on the first day to watch the fireflies.

"You okay there?" She asked, coming to sit down on the bench next to her hesitantly.

"Yeah, I just needed some time to cool down before I kill him," she joked, chuckling half heartedly.

Maddox smiled before looking over at Andy, "He loves you. I've never seen him look so happy. He's made mistakes before but he's leant from them and he'll learn from this," She said.

Andy nodded along to her words, "My mums ill, and I don't want to really tell anyone but I told him because I needed support. He could have gotten support from me for this, not run to Val,"

"I'm sorry," Maddox said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "And EJ probably doesn't want to be a burden. I'm sure he's felt that way for his family and sees himself as in the way. Maybe try to see his side of it?"

Andy chuckled, "You're really good at the whole shrink thing, might take Vals role," she joked.

Maddox laughed, "And have her be the one that cries all the time, I can't have my spotlight taken like that," she joked, the two girls laughing.

Andy was glad she had gotten everything she felt off of her chest and she felt ready to talk to EJ about it all and get it all out of the way. She wanted to be with him and wasn't going to let this stop her.

The two girls talked for ages about deep subjects like their fractured home lives and silly things

For a minute everything felt like it was just a normal day and it was the camp she had wanted to go to from the start

Taglist:

@maggiecc @hesfasttandshesweird

#letterman; ej caswell #ej caswell fanfiction #ej caswell x oc #high school musical the musical the series #hsmtmts fanfic #hsmtmts fanfiction #ej caswell x reader #hsmtmts

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pjoxreader · 1 year

Note

*awkwardly waves* H- Hello! Sorry if it's out of the blue but may I request two one-shots or hcs? The first one is Leo Valdez x daughter (or child if you only do gender-neutral) of Aphrodite!reader where Leo develops a crush on said reader. The second is Leo Valdez x modern!reader x Percy Jackson-- I know this sounds weird and you can change it if you are not comfortable but I'd like to see a love triangle between them ((the reason for the modern!reader (as if from our world etc.) is because I haven't seen any of those 😅))

That's all for now, sorry if it's too long. I hope you have a great day/night!

Daughter of Aphrodite x Leo

((I forgot to only put one request at a time to keep things neat in my rules but that was my fault so I went ahead and did both for you! I hope you enjoy! 😅))

Leo Valdez

-You two started out as just friends, of course Leo would playfully flirt now and again but that’s just who he was. He loved to make people smile and you’d light up a room with yours. Anytime you’d laugh at one of his dumb flirting attempts he’d get the dorkiest grin.

-”Are you Medusa? Because I’d turn to stone so I could spend eternity staring at your beauty.” He had never been more proud of himself as he saw you blush and giggle. Even though both Percy and Annabeth gave each other a grimace as if remembering a bad memory. Leo thought it was a good one though!

-Leo knew you were wayyy out of his league. He tried to ignore his feelings but at this point he couldn’t. Anytime he tried to focus on something his mind would wander back to you. Just simple things like ‘Ah she’d love this new machine!’ or ‘She’d be really mad if she knew I was up this late…’ But those thoughts plagued his every waking moment.

- “I just can’t get her out of my mind!” Leo complains to one of his siblings Jake Manson who gives him a sympathetic pat on the back. “It’d just… Never work out though… I’m… I’m a son of Hephaestus and she’s well… A daughter of Aphrodite. It’s like a nerd trying to get with a popular girl.” Leo complains, waving his hand as he explains this.

-Jake raises a brow with that, opening his mouth but seems to remember something before he speaks. “Ah that’s right… You never got the chance to meet Charles…” he hums softly and digs through his pocket showing Leo a picture of Charles and Silena, Silena was kissing his cheek while Charles was as red as a tomato. “Charles was the counselor before I was, and Silena was a daughter of Aphrodite. It shouldn’t have worked but… They made it work. They were the best couple in the whole camp.” There was sadness in Jake’s voice but he looked at the picture with fondness and melancholy.

-Leo felt a bit guilty but seeing the two people smiling in the picture he couldn’t help but wonder how he managed to do it. Leo had fought monsters, faced the world ending, and he was still too scared to try and ask you out… Maybe he really was helpless…

Leo Valdez x Modern!Reader x Percy Jackson

-They really didn’t get along well, Leo and Percy were like two sides of the same coin. Leo used his brains and mechanical skills to work through problems. He was head of the mechanics team after all! And Percy? Percy was captain of the swim team, strong, toned and downright eye candy. Not to mention he wasn’t afraid to get into a fight.

-You really weren’t sure how you managed to get stuck in this. You thought you were pretty good at sticking to yourself and minding your own business. Well, guess that was wrong. The two would constantly be fighting and arguing around you.

-It started off with small things, just arguments you didn’t bother to stick around for, but then it started to escalate. Percy would go into the mechanic club room soaking wet with his team getting the room soaked. And for revenge? Leo set off a glitter bomb in the pool that took two weeks to clean up. -You couldn’t stand it anymore! You call both boys out to the school roof, arms crossed angrily. “I’ve had just about enough of you both!” you yell angrily. They both look sheepish as they knew they had taken it too far if you were that mad at them.

-”Can’t you guys just like… Kiss or get together or… Something! Stop dragging me into your weird flirting!” you complain. The both pause slowly, turning to each other at the same time in shock. They stare at each other for a bit before they both burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing they ever heard.

-You’re left standing there utterly confused as they laugh loudly, Leo even rubbing a tear from his eye as Percy slaps his leg from laughing too hard. “We like *you*! We were fighting over *you*! We weren’t flirting with each other!” Leo explains the gears slowly turn in your head as it finally clicks and you feel the heat rising in your face making the boys burst out laughing again. “I thought I was dense!” Percy complains between laughter fits.

~Masterlist & Rules~

Like my writing? Please consider sending me a Ko-fi! ☕

#pjo #hoo #pjo x reader #hoo x reader #percy jackson #leo valdez x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x reader x Leo valdez #pjo fluff #fluff #pjo x reader fluff

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pbandjesse · 9 months

Text

I am a little bit exhausted tonight. I did not sleep well last night. I was very happy to have James home but my back was aching and I couldn't get comfortable and was up well past 1am. It was not fun.

James apparently also didn't sleep well. And they were really exhausted. When they got home I was really happy to see them but then they got all worked up because they thought they accidently threw away the gift they got me in New York (they didn't I found it in the backseat this afternoon. It's the little flag pictured below and I love it). And then I was upset because they got so worked up. And we had to have a long talk about catastrophying a small situation. So I think in the end we were both just to wound up to get good sleep.

In the morning I was pretty unhappy. It was entirely to warm. I was so spoiled by sweatshirt weather last week. And I liked my dress but I was just a little uncomfortable all day. My hair isn't as dry, because I'm doing oil treatments, but I just hate the length. I was just feeling a little low about myself which was making everything feel kind of bad and weird.

But I was happy to go to work with James. Despite their sleepiness they drove us to camp after getting breakfast. And we got there around 8:00.

We would walk over to the lodge to find Charlotte so that James can say hello and we waved a couple other people. And then it was just sorting out stuff at the art building. Thankfully I had already really done most of it so it wasn't like we were in dire straits. It was just getting a couple more materials together and then we were just chilling.

We went for a little walk around camp after checking James in at the office. We went to see the animals and said hello to the goats but they were acting very skittish today. I'm assuming that the rain upset them. But they let me pet their heads and that's all I really wanted.

And then Hannah, the CIT that will be with me this week, came and chilled with us until our first group. I wanted so good today. It was nice to have a cup of campers that I've done this project already and they liked the variation of having the frames as an option. . I had a lot of fun hanging out with them and it was nice talking James there and Hannah is a very good energy. She was working on friendship bracelets for her art who. And I worked on my knitting and I got to show off my blanket a few times. It was a very positive morning.

I didn't realize that but there was a storm coming in this afternoon that was going to be very bad. Kieren and told us that there was a plan in place to have daycare go home at 3:30 before the storms started. I didn't realize that it was going to be scary bad. When I checked my phone it said that it was a rare category 4 or 5 storm. I didn't exactly know what that meant but it seems very scary. So I was very glad that we were going to be leaving at 2:00 and missing all of it. I love a little bit of adventure but not with how scary the storm was last year. I did not need to be under a picnic table again thinking I was going to die.

Lunch was kind of terrible. It was weird burritos but the vegetarian option was just rice that tasted like Thanksgiving spices and nacho cheese that was just like cheese with sauce and it was bad and upset my stomach. And then the chef had very bad energy and kind of yelled at the counselor for not making the burritos up at the front instead of at the tables and it was very strange. James didn't even eat anything and I sat outside with feeling that and then coming out and we're just kind of talk about how bad the people was. Annabelle joined us and we had a really nice little conversation and we tried to figure out who could possibly have filled the orange paint with water because they ruined it and we're very confused about why someone would do that. But soon me and James headed up to arts and crafts to rest.

I read my book for a while and James laid on the picnic table.

And I was super comfortable. I love my hammock. And it was just really good being with James and then our last group of the day came and they did a very good job and they were very fun. The one child that was there on Friday that complained at me endlessly about here how he never finishes his art was there and I was like are you getting finished this time and he said he would do his past and then he proceeded to continue to wipe very wet hands on me because he thought it was funny and I was not really doing anything to stop it. We were just being very silly and goofy.

We're done and we cleaned up and James got hammocks inside and we got all materials inside and locked down the building so that whatever the storm did it wouldn't ruin any of my stuff hopefully.

We left after stopping at the office to say goodbye. I wish them luck for whatever storm happened and made sure Alexa knew I wasn't going to be there so that she wouldn't be worried about my safety hiding in the art building. And then we went to my appointment.

It's not a horrible drive but it is kind of long. It's like 40 minutes and I worked on my knitting throwing the ride and then when we got there James went to get groceries while I went into my appointment almost an hour early.

I had a very funny little chat with a man in the elevator about being early and he told me he was getting his foot looked at visit was hurt and I said I was going to the rheumatologist and hopefully they would let me in. It was just a nice little interaction after waiting for the elevator for a very long time.

But when I got to the doctor's office I was very sad to find out that Dr Fatima move to California last week. So she's not my doctor anymore and I really liked her so I'm very sad about it. But I got to meet my new doctor whose name I do not know how to spell but she was very nice. I only had to wait in the waiting room for a few minutes and then I went back and I lost a couple more pounds. Which is good because I would like to be back down to 160 and I'm closer to it than I was but I didn't really do anything so it is only slightly concerning. And then I got my injections after having a very nice chat with the medical assistant and the person who does the injections. And then the doctor and the nurse practitioner came in.

We had a very long chat. We went over all of the blood work that I never called about. And I told her all my things and my backstory since she's going to be my doctor now and she was very nice and very receptive and had some great advice and gave me free samples of heating patches for my neck and I told her about my hypermobility and how I'm very flexible and how that sometimes leads to over exertion and my knitting and I got to show my blanket to her and how I can do so much more art than I used to be able to and just all those little things that make my relationship with my rheumatologist so strong. Make her see me as a full person. And we decided since we don't know why my liver enzymes were so high a couple months ago that in a few months will test them again but I have to monitor my weight and a couple other things just to make sure that I'm doing okay. She also gave me a prescription for a muscle relaxant and then I'll pick up in a few days when Walgreens gets it in. But fingers crossed that everything continues to go in a good path.

And my neck is feeling a lot better. It's still sore on the sides but I can turn my head pretty well now. Hanging upside down from my aerial silk helped a lot. I ended up putting a pillow behind my back while I did it and then that made it a lot more comfortable. I don't know why I've never thought to do that before.

And then I went outside and found James sitting in the parking lot. And they were very tired and very sweaty and they really just wanted to get us home.

And so we came back here and they took my picture outside and we got upstairs and they were going to do the laundry right away but then they discovered that they forgot to get up quarters at the grocery store. And they were very upset with themselves but they would head out to get that done and I would change and take a shower and felt a lot better.

Once I was clean I would get dressed in a silk night gown and got on the couch to read for a while. I read until right before James got home. And then they got into doing laundry and soon you could tell that a storm was coming in.

Everyone at Camp was apparently already in basements and it apparently got very scary there. CJ just told me that a tree went through the dining hall and the nurses office. Day camp has already been canceled for tomorrow. And apparently it was very scary. But everyone is safe and that's all that really matters.

Here though the sky turned green which is a sign of tornadoes. And we tried to get all of the plants that are on the fire escape into a safe position so that they wouldn't blow away and I covered up all of our windows with towels since they don't close. And I just tried to make sure that everything would be safe and dry.

Once the storm calm down a little bit after being pretty scary and heavy for a few minutes I open the back door just to watch it. Watch the lightning and the rain. James worked on finishing the laundry and eventually this guy cleared up and the sun came back out.

James made us dinner. I had corn on the cob and vegetarian chicken nuggets and they had a pizza bagel. And then I would make my little cinnamon snail rolls to have for tomorrow. And I have just been resting since then. James painted their nails and I just tried to have a nice evening.

Now I'm laying in bed. Trying to cool down in the air conditioning. I am very grateful and thankful that I was safe here and not terrified at camp. I'm hoping that there are good ways that I can help fix everything tomorrow. And I hope that the destruction is not as bad as I am picturing it to be. It could have been very very scary and very very bad. It seems to be just very scary and very bad. I hope that tomorrow the cleanup can go smoothly.

Now though it is time to sleep. I am hoping that I can sleep easier tonight. And that James can't get some rest because they really need it. Tomorrow I am ready for some intense picking up and taking care of things. I hope that you are all safe and that tomorrow is a good day for you. Let's hope the power comes back on at camp quickly. Good night everybody. Until next time.

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