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#and his defense mechanisms spring into place
thetardigrape · 2 years
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So we're agreed, right, that this is basically the moment Ed turns:
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Before this, he was dealing with the breakup and starting to connect with other people. After this, he pushes Lucius overboard, cuts off Izzy's toe, and goes full emo Kraken.
And we also seem to be agreed that this is sparked because the crew shout "Hey Ed, sing us another song!" and start chanting his name, and this hearkens back to "Play something for us, Jeff." They're a fickle crowd.
But it's more than that, I think. It's not just that the crew are fickle, or that the fancy folks were fickle. At this point, everyone has been fickle.
The fancy party, yeah, those people sucked. Ed thought he was fitting in, but he discovered no, he was only the entertainment. It was a blow to Ed's ego and worldview, thinking maybe he really didn't belong with the fancy people, but he had people in his life he cared about, people who he could count on.
Then his old pal Jack showed up, and they had a great time! They drank and reminisced and did horrible things to small animals. But all of that turned out to be a lie. It was all a ruse to separate Ed from Stede. Whatever history they may have had, Jack proved he couldn't be counted on.
Then Stede. Fuck. Ed bared his soul to Stede, took a risk telling him his feelings, and for a beautiful moment he had everything he wanted. But that wasn't real either. Stede kissed him on the beach and promised to run away to China with him, and then he disappeared. Ed couldn't count on Stede.
Then Izzy. Izzy Hands, Blackbeard's first mate, his right-hand man. By Izzy's own account, when Ed made him first mate, he told him above all else was loyalty to his captain. Until that day in the cabin, Ed could believe Izzy was true. Stupid, misguided, and cruel, yes, but true, thinking he was doing right by Ed, even if he was wrong about what "right" meant. But Izzy, spitting with fury, told Ed he should have let the English kill him. Izzy isn't loyal to Ed. He's only loyal to the Blackbeard persona. Ed cannot let his guard down around Izzy. Ed can't count on Izzy.
And finally, the crew. This crew stuttered in fear when they met him. This crew couldn't stop calling him sir and hung on his every word. They believed in the reputation of Blackbeard, and they feared and respected it. And yet so quickly, when he showed softness, that fear vanished. They rushed to call him by his given name and make demands of him. They saw him vulnerable and they stopped treating him as a captain. Ed can't count on his crew.
So of course he retreats into the Kraken. Everyone he has ever known has turned out to be unreliable. The only response Ed can really count on is fear. Blackbeard isn't enough. He was Blackbeard to the crew and it didn't help. Ed has to be the monster. He has to cultivate fear in every person he meets at every moment. Ed knows fear, and he knows how to use it. Fear is reliable.
Ed is still Ed. Beneath the makeup is the man weeping while gazing at the lighthouse. But now he knows he can never show that part of himself to anyone, because everyone who has ever seen him vulnerable has turned on him.
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✨Sensitivity✨
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I am an absolute SLUT for Luci’s wings so I wanted to write something with them :), huge thank you to @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis for the help 💖
Also I’m legit on a cruise ship rn, but @amberlouise473 knows I gotta feed y’all like I’m tossing corn to my chickens 🤣
Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Summary: You’re super curious about Lucifer’s wings, but neither of you knew how sensitive they were. You didn’t know how sensitive you could be either…
Warnings: 18+, smut, dry humping, ruined clothes, pet names, oral (f receiving), face riding, over stimulation, multiple orgasms
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It was time for bed and Lucifer was still working. You knew he worked late sometimes but this seemed a little later than usual. You decided to take a look to see if he was still in his office. Sure enough, you saw him sitting down at his desk when you entered the room. But when you looked closer, you saw that he’d fallen asleep at his desk, his head resting in his arms. He looked so peaceful lying there, you almost didn’t want to disturb him. But you knew he’d feel a lot better if he actually slept in your bed instead of hunched over his desk. Quietly, you walked towards him trying not to make any loud noises that might startle him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking it lightly.
“Luci?,” you whispered, “Luci, it’s time for bed, wake up sleepy head.” He moaned quietly, but your shaking didn’t seem to have done the trick. You shook his shoulder a little hard. “Luci, c’mon hon.” Nothing. You took your other hand and placed it on his other shoulder, shaking him even more. “Lucifer!,” you nearly screamed!
With that, Lucifer’s eyes shot open, pushing himself off the desk. “AAHHH!!! WHAT?!?! What’s going on?!,” he yelled. You never saw him so frazzled before, it was kind of cute. But what you really didn’t expect was to see Lucifer’s wings spring out from his back. It must have been an involuntary reaction from the shock of being woken up so suddenly. His eyes found yours and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Oh, it’s you, darling,” he breathed. “You really scared me there! I guess I must have fallen asleep, forgive me.” You were only half listening to him at this moment, your gaze was still fixed on his angelic wings. You’d only seen them once or twice before, but never for long. It was then that Lucifer turned his head and noticed what had caught your attention. “Oh! Sorry about that, it’s a defense mechanism, as silly as that sounds. I’ll put them away-”
“No, wait!”, you shouted louder than you meant to. Lucifer cocked an eyebrow at you, not understanding why you had stopped him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just…I never get to see your wings. They’re really beautiful.”
A light blush dashed across his face, he gave you a shy smile. “O-oh, thank you! I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.”
“That’s a shame,” you pouted, “I think they’re incredible.” You walked closer to him to get a better look at them. Their white and red coloring were breathtaking. Their length took up almost the entirety of the room you were in, and his office was not small in the least. A tiny part of you wondered if he always had red feathers, or if they had changed after he…
Perhaps that was a question for another time.
“Are they heavy?,” you inquired.
“Oh! Umm, I don’t think so,” Lucifer pondered. “I don’t really notice if they are. I might have gotten used to them over the last 10,000 or so years.”
“Can I…touch them?,” you asked shyly, averting Lucifer’s gaze.
He smiled. “Of course, love. Let’s go back to our room, shall we?”
Lucifer’s wings disappeared for now as he gently grabbed your hand and led you out of his office. Once you reached your bedroom, he unfastened his shirt and threw it off to the side. It made you blush, even though his bare chest was not a new sight to you. Lucifer noticed your reddened face and smirked.
“It’s a little easier this way, don’t you think?,” he chuckled. He walked over to the bed and sat down, crossing his legs in the process. He tapped his thigh, offering you a seat in his lap. You smiled and wrapped your legs around his torso, straddling him. “You ready?,” he asked with a little smile. You nodded your head eagerly. In an instant, his three sets wings appeared again. You noticed something was a little different though.
“I could have sworn they were bigger,” you puzzled.
“No, you’re right, they were,” Lucifer laughed. “I can control how large or small they need to be. They might have broken something in here if they were any bigger!”
You chuckled lightly. They were even more breathtaking up close, his scarlet feathers glistened even in the dim lighting of the room. You stuck out your hands and touched the top of his first set of wings. Unexpectedly, Lucifer inhaled sharply from your touch, screwing his eyes shut. You pulled away instantly.
“Oh no!,” you gasped. “Did I hurt you? I swear I barely touched them! I’m sorry!”
Lucifer exhaled slowly and opened his eyes again. “No, no, it’s alright, love,” he cooed, “it wasn’t painful. I just didn’t expect the sensation. Let’s just say they’re…more sensitive than I originally thought.” It was only then you felt a bump forming between your legs.
Oh…OH!
You quickly caught on to what he was referring to. And having you straddle his lap probably wasn’t helping. A small smirk crept across your face. You couldn’t resist the urge to make him squirm from your touch; the thought excited you.
“Well, in that case…” you smiled slyly, reaching out for his wings once more. This time, you gave them a slightly firmer grip than before. Lucifer nearly yelped from your touch and buried his face into the crook of your neck. You ran your hands up and down the tops of his wings, almost massaging them in a way. Lucifer was unable to hold back his moans.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart,” he panted.
You loved the sight of him bending so easily to your simple touches. You wondered if you could break him. You began to shift your hips in his lap, grinding on the now very apparent bulge in his pants. Lucifer nearly sobbed as you ground your hips against him. You moved your hands down to his second set of wings to give them some attention. You could tell he was unraveling quickly.
“D-Dear,” he choked out, “i-if you don’t stop, I’m g-gonna…f-fuck…”
His plea only made you grind against him at a faster pace while continuing to stroke his sensitive wings. At this point he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, only broken moans and gutural sounds left his lips. You moved your hands down to his smallest set of his wings, pinching them between your fingers.
“FuckfuckfuckFUCK,” Lucifer cried out as your movements finally pushed him over the edge. He bit down on your shoulder as he came, completely ruining in pants. Once he came down from his high, he looked into your eyes, almost distraught.
“I’m…I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. “I-I didn’t think that…I didn’t mean to…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. His wings disappeared from sight as he buried his head into you chest
“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you told him as you lifted his head up to plant a tender kiss to his lips. The small tears that had formed in his eyes fell down the side of his face, but you wiped them away with your thumbs. “Luci, please don’t apologize,” you soothed. “You never have to feel sorry for that! Did you feel good?”
Lucifer steadied his breathing, trying his best to calm down. “Yes, love, it was amazing. You’re amazing.” He lifted you off his lap and placed you on the mattress while he stood up, discarding the rest of his now filthy clothes. “But I absolutely refuse to be the only one being pleasured tonight.”
Without warning, Lucifer leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, filing your mouth with his tongue. You moaned against his lips, feeling as though you might be devoured by him. Lucifer tugged at the hem of your pajama pants, asking permission to remove them. “Mhmm,” was all you could mumble. In one swift motion, your pants had vanished and all you felt was the cool air on your legs. Lucifer brought down his fingers to your folds, loving the feeling of how wet you were for him. He captured your moan on his lips, but suddenly pulled his fingers away, leaving you to whine in protest.
Lucifer broke your kiss and brought his soaked finger to his lips, tasting your sweet nectar. “Mmm, you always taste so delectable, darling,” he marveled. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, he knew just what buttons to press when it came to you. He crawled back up on the bed and laid flat on his back, his head propped up by the pillows. “Come have a seat, sweetheart,” he teased as he pointed to his coy smiling face.
Your face became extreme hot as you crawled towards the demon king. You made your way on top of him and came to a halt when your dripping cunt hovered right above Lucifer’s eager smile.
“A meal fit for a king, truly,” he laughed as he dug his face into your aching pussy. You nearly screamed as his forked tongue worked his magic along your slit. He devoured you, making sure every inch of you was consumed. His lips found your clit and started to kiss and suck at it. He’d only just started and you were ready to snap.
“O-Oh my God, Lucifer, shhhiiittt, I’m so close…s-s-so close…,” you whined.
“God can’t hear you down here, angel,” he teased you before continuing to lap at your folds. He made quick work of you, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.
“Fuuuuccckkkk, imcummingIMCUMMIMG,” you screamed as you finally felt your walls clench and spasm around nothing. Lucifer happily swallowed your juices as your orgasm started to recede. You tried to lift yourself up off Lucifer’s face, but he kept a firm grip on your legs.
“I’m not done with you, love,” he chuckled. With a snap of his fingers, golden shackles formed around your ankles, the chain hooked underneath Lucifer’s back. A twisted look of fear and passion flashed across your face. You were trapped.
“L-Luci…what are you-” you tried to asked but were cut off by another long lick up your sensitive cunt. A gutural moan escaped your mouth, you still hadn’t fully recovered from your orgasm.
“I thought it would only be fair to ruin you, since you ruined my clothes,” he chastised playfully. “But if at any time it becomes too much for you, tell me and I’ll let you go immediately, okay?”
“Al-Alright,” you stuttered, trembling from the anticipation.
Lucifer hummed against your lower lips. “I’ll make this a little easier for you, sweetheart.” You saw Lucifer’s form start to change beneath you. His horns had erupted from his head while his eyes shifted to a deep red and gold color with onyx irises. “Something for you to hold onto,” he murmured sensually.
Tentatively, you took hold of his horns and braced yourself for his next move. You didn’t have to wait long before you felt his tongue attacking your cunt once more. The grip you had on his horns could have torn your skin clean off with how tight you were holding them while he nipped and sucked your overstimulated clit. Before you knew it, your second orgasm hit you even harder than the first. Then your third, your fourth, your cunt was getting absolutely abused by Lucifer who hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down since he started. After your fifth orgasm washed over you, your legs had given out from under you, completely collapsing on top of Lucifer.
“No more…,” you begged. “No more, please…”
Lucifer snapped his fingers and the shackles around your ankles disappeared in an instant. You conjured up the remainder of your strength to push yourself off him and roll over onto your side, an absolutely breathless mess. You could hardly keep your eyes open. You could feel yourself losing consciousness until Lucifer pulled you flush to his chest.
“You did so well, my dear,” he murmured against your ear. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”
“Sleep…” was all you could muster. Lucifer chuckled lightly, kissing your cheek ever so softly.
“Goodnight, love,” you heard him whisper as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. It was the best sleep you ever had.
~~~~
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“I just think they’re neat!” - Me w/ Lucifer’s wings also Lucifer inventend pussy eating, this is fact, ALSO also something something handlebar horns
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asvterias · 1 month
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𝖨𝗍 𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝖥𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝖣𝗈𝗐𝗇 ~ 𝖢𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾 𝖫𝖺 𝖱𝗎𝖾
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part two || chapter playlist (1) & chapter playlist (2) || clarisse masterlist
helping palestine 🇵🇸
warnings: the killing of a monster?, character death, crying, some blood mentions & stabbing (not inflicted against us!)
pairings: (both aged up to 16) clarisse la rue ✘ black!fem!demigod!reader (daughter of poseidon) | younger!brother percy jackson ✘ older!sister!reader
genres: sally & reader’s mom (jessica) are lovers bcs GENUINELY FUCK GABE (hate his ass), reader & grover has a sibling bond, hard cold angst, sad angsty beginning, reader’s mom actually dies 🥲, reader’s emotions control the weather, very sad!reader, kinda depressed!reader, reader in denial, MAJOR character death, reader is kinda a girlboss, kinda!dark!reader x always!clueless!percy, vengeful!reader, reader is OUT for blood (specifically the Minotaur)
summary: secrets are liable to make or break the jackson-matthews family until they result in dangerous situations, nearly escaping from death…well nearly most of them managed a safe recovery.
word count: 2.7k+
tag list: @lvrue @kyuupidwrites @xanasaurusrex @urdeadpoet @aurorailvsm @quinnsadilla @st4rzl7 @p0rkbun @star-girl69 @aphroditesmoon @lcvved @tinytea-biscut @dearlydarlings @nvirskies @rocknr0ll @urbisexualfriend @k4zuhas-visi0n @marlswhore @lovelyy-moonlight @thegiganticgirlkisser @thewritingbarbie @apocalypticlibrary @solecitoszn @mira-belcul18 @ampitrit3 @mthefae @sleighingstella @korizzybee @hoku-k @liv444me @lila-went-missing @mariposa555 @cherriesnbutter @justintinderlake4 @natasha-took-fall-damage @b0ok-lover @novastarrs @urfavefag @babyzzlove @importantpotato @laughingcheese037 @iheartamberfreeman @karslyn @haerinfrr @gianni7867 @jimfiqs @4evafvctional @lyzsaphrodite @f4riedimples
author’s note: i really enjoyed writing this ngl! also i have a faceclaim for reader’s mom, jessica matthews is portrayed by candice patton.
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Born from the same father but different mothers, your sibling bond with Percy was unbreakable, certainly unconditional. Your mothers were very close, growing up as best friends from when they were teenagers, accomplishing every achievement together for the sake of you and Percy’s life.
Of course, your moms fell in love, hosting a small spring wedding when you were 10 and Percy was 6 years old.
So when Sally had to move again, your mom didn’t ask questions and instead packed your bags, placing them in the car and driving to the airport. A loving family of four was maintained by dark secrets that cost lives.
With everything going on, with the upbringing of your heritage, both of your mothers went through thick and thin. Developing from friends into lovers hardly changed anything, presumably their love maintained massively for themselves and shared children.
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It was a rainy day, you and Percy had just been expelled from Yancy. Nancy bullied your brother so you reacted like how any big sister would and punched her before she flew into the nearby fountain, completely drenched in water. That little defense mechanism got both you and your little brother expelled from Yancy indefinitely as you two took a train back to your parents’ apartment.
You two apologized profusely to your moms, but they remained nonchalant, telling you two to pack a bag because you were visiting your residential cabin.
Something was wrong, extremely wrong and you felt it in your gut as soon as you stepped foot into the unkept cabin. From the moment your mom became sorrowful and honest, retelling the story of how she met your father, you knew something was up. Sadly, you just didn’t know that it’d be life-changing for you both.
Interrupted by rapid knocks on the cabin door made you jump a little in surprise and your mom, Sally, went to open the door. It was Percy’s bestfriend, Grover. He was soaked from the rain and began to blabber on to your moms, incoherently talking about revealing the big secret.
“Grover…” Percy speaks, waringly looking down at his friend’s lower body, or rather the lack thereof. Shockingly enough, his lower body wasn’t one of a human’s but one of the legs of an animal, specifically a goat.
“What?” Grover snapped, turning his head to the siblings, hitting his hoove against the wooden floor.
“Grover, why is there half a goat in your pants?”
“Did your mom fuck a goat or something?” The question had to be asked, but it yet remained to be answered.
Doubled in confusion when Grover, Percy’s best friend was also your satyr protector, dedicating to getting both of you at Camp Half-Blood safely. When your mothers’ actually revealed the truth about your father’s real identity, you were appalled, to say the least. You assumed he was a deadbeat and couldn’t care less about his kids, and you were absolutely right. Only now his identity expanded in further detail, making him out to be a god, one of the most powerful gods there ever was. Therefore making you and Percy, forbidden children in both worlds, are continually being hunted by monsters, who strive to see your demise.
“Do you believe this, Y/N?” Percy turns to you, mouth open in bewilderment.
“Right now, I don’t know what to believe anymore.” You truthfully spoke.
“Did you know I’m 24?” Grover asked you innocently.
You and Percy shared the same shocked expression, “Wait? What?”
Grover winces, staring back at the two adults in the car, “Out of curiosity, what exactly did you tell them?”
“We were getting there!” Your moms shouted simultaneously at Grover.
Grover nods his head, leaning back into the seat.
“Moonlight…listen to me.” your mom looks at you through the mirror as your gaze hesitantly meets hers. “You and Percy are forbidden children, monsters are going to attack you every day, this camp can protect you both.”
“Why can’t you and Sally come with us then?” you bargained with her, tears forming in your eyes. You couldn’t imagine, much less experience your life without your mother and Sally. The same women who nurtured you since you were babies and taught you everything you knew. You refused to give up on them, everything they did was to protect and love you, and now it was your turn.
Sally starts to talk, eyes stuck on the road, “We humans are not allowed there. Only demigods like you two.”
“But we don’t wanna leave you two.” Percy persisted.
“You’re our moms.”
“You’re gonna have to, that Minotaur isn’t gonna stop until he kills both of you.”
All of a sudden, a collision hit the car with enough brute force to send the car off the road and everything went black. It was all so quick, the collision, the swiveling of the car and landing on the side of the road, far from bypassers to rescue.
The rain pattering against the car turned into a heavy rainpour as everyone in the car, hanging upside down with the seat belt anchoring them, remained still, all unconscious.
After a while, the dulling pain in your head sharply woke you up, being the first to recover from the crash. Holding your head in pain as you slowly opened your eyes, feeling the blood trickle from your head, surveying your surroundings as you saw Percy and Grover still unconscious. Quickly unbuckling your seatbelt, you got out of your seat, repeating the same action to your younger brothers.
One by one, you carefully got everyone from the car as they began to wake up. A growl from the distance urges you to move faster as you help your other mom, Sally, get out of the damaged car.
Sally, Percy, and Grover were recovering, standing on their feet, checking for any injuries and your mom was the last one who needed rescuing.
“Mom…” you shake her but her body is motionless as the tears well up in your eyes.
You felt Sally’s arm pushing you back, sending you into Percy’s and Grover’s embrace as you nervously observed.
“Come on, come on, Jess…” Sally murmurs, kneeling down, searching for a pulse. “You gotta survive, we have children together, we can’t lose you right now.”
“Is she okay?” Percy chirps up, deciding to speak for you.
You found everything incomprehensible around you, your senses became deafening and a high-pitched ringing in your head matched the loud heart beating in your chest.
When Sally stayed silent, it only worsened your anxiety, “Mom, is she okay?!” Percy speaks again, adding some base in his voice yet his tone slightly wavers.
“She has a fading pulse…” Sally whispers, sparing a sad glance at you and quickly turning back to Jessica, “It’s decreasing rapidly,”
Dropping to the muddy slippery ground on your knees, tears quickly filling the brim of your eyes, threatening to fall as you moved closer to her.
“Mommy…” you cradle her face into your chest, saddened by her face, eyes closed as blood trickles down her forehead.
“We can revive her, right!” Your voice cracks, whipping your head to Sally, “Tell me we can revive her!”
“Y/N…” Sally sighs deeply, trying to contain her own tears. You turn around, looking down at your mother, resting on your lap, body motionless yet her face looks peaceful.
“No! We- I can save her. We can do heart-to-heart compressions,” you shake your head, starting to do heart-to-heart compressions. “Why isn’t she waking up? Mommy, this isn’t funny anymore now, you have to wake up and help us. Please I can’t do this without you, I can’t do this whole new demigod thing without you.” your voice was dry, as you leaned down, blowing air into her mouth, hoping for a miracle to occur.
You didn’t truly believe in miracles, but for your mother, you’d start believing it. Right now, you would do whatever it took to bring her back even if it meant wishing on the impossible.
“We didn’t do plenty of things yet, I wanted you and Sally to meet my first girlfriend, attend my graduation, be there when I move out and eventually get married, and get grandkids from Percy because we both know I’m not going through that torture.”
Your senses became intensely heightened, catching onto Grover’s whisper to Sally, ignoring him as you spoke up.
“I refuse to leave her alone, she isn’t dead, just having some problems waking up and getting a pulse back.” You were in extreme denial, “Come on, mum, you focus on her face, giving her air and I’ll do her chest,” you beckoned Sally forward.
“Sweetheart…she’s already….gone.”
“She’s my mom and Percy’s mom, your wife. She wasn’t supposed to die this early. If all you’re gonna do is stand there and be useless, don’t bother talking to me.” It wasn’t intentional to snap at your other mom, but your emotions were driving you crazy and brazen.
“You’re the sun to my moon, Mommy, I can’t shine when you’re not there with me.” You sobbed. Despite being physically exhausted, you weren’t giving up on trying to revive your mom, she would have never given up on you so you would stop trying until you had something, anything; a pulse, a gasp, her eyes shooting up. “Remember…” You weakly asked, holding onto the moon-shaped necklace on your neck, staring at your mom’s sun-shaped necklace.
The sky crackled with slight thunder as the rain poured down heavier. Finally understanding the meaning of your nickname, you sobbed desperately until the broken cracks of your voice gave out.
There was no sunshine without her moonlight, always them being in a pair, nothing without the other. Sadly, you lost your sunshine, darkening your moonlight to its deepest depths, harvesting it into something vengeful and heartless. Something that even scared you to a certain extent, like this was another new side flourishing because of the horrible circumstances.
“Hold up, is Y/N doing that?” Percy quietly asks Grover.
You rested your mom on the ground, ignoring the cold rainpour.
“She’s gone…” Sally cries, grabbing your arm and pushing you into her body for a hug. You cried into the hug, tightening your grip as your wails echoed throughout the forest. Maybe this was all a nightmare, where you’d wake up and relax in reality. This was the time that your mom needed to wake you up and reassure you that she was right there, staying with you and protecting you.
Your chest clenched against your rib cage, devastation wracked throughout your entire body as the tears relentlessly spilled out.
“But she- she can’t be gone!” You hiccup, eyes glossing over with fresh tears, feeling another arm snuggle around your side.
“I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry,” she caressed your face.
“What kind of demigod I am, if I was blessed with all these supernatural powers, can’t even save my Mom from death? What kind of daughter am I to just stand by and watch her own mother die? I don’t want this demigod life anymore, please take it all away if it meant my mother is coming back, to me, to home.”
“Don’t you ever say that again, you did everything you could, your perseverance is one of your strongest qualities that Jessica adored very much. She wouldn’t want you to doubt yourself like this nor would I,” Sally reassures you, resting a thumb on your cheek, “Our beautiful daughter, she’s so proud of you, I want you to know that.”
Your eyes were puffy and red from tears as you listened to your mother’s words of encouragement and reassurance.
Much to your dismay, another loud roar broke the semi-family grievance, reminding them of the harsh reality.
“We have to go now!” Grover hastily urges.
“I’m not leaving my mom here like this,” you point to her figure on the ground.
“We won’t, I promise you, sweetie. I’ll give her a proper burial, but right now we have to go!” Her tone was urgent as she quickly scanned the dark forest with the illumination from the car light.
You hurriedly rushed towards your mother’s still figure on the muddy ground, leaning down.
“Goodbye, Mom,” you whisper hoarsely, kissing her forehead for the last time. You stared down at her neck, gazing at the sunlight necklace she wore and yanked it off, and shoved the meaningful jewelry into your back pocket. Your heart broke again, realizing she can’t respond back, despite being in extreme denial.
Unfortunately, that was the last time you saw your moms, one died in your arms and the other sacrificed herself for her children’s safety.
The pain and suffering became a dangerous mix of anger and hatred directed at the Minotaur.
Grover’s statements fall on deaf ears, partially drowned out by the heavy rainfall. “Y/N and Percy come on, we’re almost there.” you glance at your blonde brother who holds the same expression on his face. You were going to avenge your mothers, and you didn’t care if you died trying. This monster had already taken your worlds away, so you had nobody else to lose.
Grabbing the pen from your pocket, holding it out, and witnessing it transform into a golden sword at will.
The fight with the Minotaur was brutal and intense, alongside the heavy downpour of rain attempted to slow down the intensity of this fight. Despite double-teaming the monster, he resisted surrender, determined to win and kill you both. Surprisingly, you gained the agility to climb onto his back while Percy distracted him.
Somehow, you gained the ultimate advantage with the lighting sword in your hand and stabbed the monster in its eye, ignoring his roar of pain. If anything its pain only further encouraged you to continue.
Too full of adrenaline, you grab his two horns, gripping them and pulling them out with your utmost strength. A new sudden strength you just obtained. Gasping in shock was quickly outlived when your sword slipped out of your hand and dropped onto the muddy ground, disappearing from your eyesight. Stumbling onto his feet, inflicted by the pain, you groaned, gripping the monster by his rough skin as he attempted to shake you off.
“Percy the sword!” You yelled at him. Your brother throws the sword upwards as you catch the weapon.
You stab the monster in the neck, wincing at his loud screeches, but continue to stab his neck. Once the monster was deemed weak enough, you sliced the sword right through his neck, seizing the opportunity of successfully killing it.
This was all this stupid monster’s fault. If it hadn’t chased after you or slammed itself into the car, your mom would be alive. If it didn’t have such a bloodthirst for demigods, Sally, your mum would still be alive. Alive. Alive. Alive. You just wished your moms were alive, to see you mature into such a courageous daughter to avenge their deaths.
Soon enough, the monster staggered on its feet and its body began to disintegrate into black dust before your eyes.
“Y/N!” The voice becomes disoriented as you stumble on the ground, two arms catching you as you faint, everything fading away into a black abyss.
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mrsnancywheeler · 4 months
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silver springs
finnick odair x gn!reader
2k words
masterlist
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summary: finnick's cycle of self destruction stops for no one, even if it tears the two of you apart, but you refuse to fade into the past.
warnings: angst, lots of it, self destructive behavior, mentions of trafficking, allusions to consensual smut, reader values their virginity, arguments, break ups, trauma, unhealthy relationship dynamics, unhappy ending, but could be interpreted as hopeful if you want it to be, unedited, no use of y/n
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Finnick knows he should just fall asleep, let himself rest and turn his brain off from overthinking, but he can't. You deserve better, so much better than the broken boy from District 4 who will forever be playing his role in the puppet show. Where you've fought the demons off with compassion for each person you've come across, it shames him how easily he can fall into the facade of the egotistical Capitol darling. Eventually his outlook will consume the joy you've harvested to forcefully in the depths of your heart and he knows not a minute will pass that he can look at himself in the mirror knowing he did that to you. So he has to end it, to let you be free for a much happier life, at least that's what he tells himself as he prepares for you to wake.
You're so beautiful in the moonlight that glows on your sleeping face and he's even more enthralled when the sun begins to rise and it's like you're an angel in the colors. He's not sure when he let a few tears shed thinking about how when you wake up it'll be the last time he sees you like this, but it's for the best. When you do hazily wake up, blankets falling off your bare body as you sit up, all your sleepy smiles make his heart clench even more, but his brain more certain.
“Good morning." You mumble out, leaning in for a kiss which he scoots away from and your incoherent brain snaps to attention. No matter how long it's been since you've been in the arena, you doubt that instinct will ever go away, the need to be constantly on edge if something seems slightly off, and he is. Finnick is usually the type to be just returning from a swim with some fish he caught in the morning or arms wrapped around you. “What's wrong?" You can feel a defense mechanism settling in with the numbness of your voice, had you really finally had the courage to let someone have your body only for them to pull away from your love the very next morning? What a cruel master the universe seemed to be no matter what cards you played.
Finnick's eyes were glossy and he rubbed his face as he sniffled, forcing the words out of his reluctant throat, “I don't think we should see each other anymore." Before the words have even finished tumbling out of his mouth you've pulled the blanket back up to cover your exposed chest. How could you be so cautious of something only for it to come from the person you least expected, apparently you weren't cautious enough.
“Oh." It's humiliating, if you could just disappear into the air you would give anything to do so. You can't cry, it would only further that humiliation, so you robotically move to the side of the bed to grab the panties that had been so lazily thrown off by him the night before. “Congrats on the score, Finnick, hopefully I'm worth a good amount of points." Your voice can't be allowed to crack or shake, but it's fighting against your willpower.
“It's not like that." Finnick quickly says, observing you, and he'll never say it, but he's scared. He doesn't want you to hate him, to break your heart, he just wants you to be free of his chains.
You scoff and have to force yourself to stand without the protection of the blanket so you can find the rest of your strewn about clothes. “I’m sure that's what you tell all of them.” All of us, he's always been a rumored playboy, but with what the Capitol did to him that was what you'd placed it on. Not that he played people, but that he was unfairly used, now you reasoned, two things could be true at once. Him having past partners had never bothered you when he began talking to you, but now you wondered how he left them. You glance back for less then a second when you see he's buried his head in hands, not answering.
He knows this isn't true, that he's doing this because he cares too much to let his darkness eat you alive. Maybe he'll even have to say that to you, so he won't have to live with the additional weight of your resentment.
“I just-" Your throat breaks on a sob you're holding back, “I know it's not important to everyone, but it was important to me, Finnick. I gave you something that I wasn't ready to give anyone else because I thought…” You sighed, "It doesn't matter what I thought, but it's so fucked that you took that away when you knew.” A stray tear has forced its way through which you're wiping away as soon as you can. Your pants are in a pile at the end of the bed which you quickly grab.
“I'm sorry." His voice isn't hiding the tears as he looks up from his hands, he's genuine and you can tell as much from his voice, but it doesn't stop the internal berating of being so stupid to finally share that intimate part of yourself when he would leave you hours later. “I didn't plan it like that, honey, I didn't."
“Please, don't call me that." He nods his head in retreat after your request that was meant to be more forceful, preferably he'd never speak to you again.
“You deserve better, so much better." You agree, the bare minimum would be a day before he broke the news not hours after you'd slept with him. “Better than me, I need you to have better.” He feels like a child, knees pulled up to his chest as he gives you up so you'll be far away from his destruction, but you feel more like a toy he's gotten bored of playing with. Like a hurricane it hits you that he means being with you, a sentiment he’s murmured many times in your relationship even if you insisted otherwise at each utterance. Yet you can no longer find it in you to assure him otherwise, no matter how much you disagree.
“Oh my god, this is the ‘woe is me, I'm Finnick Odair, so unlovable’ act again!” You could tear your hair out, "I could love you, Finnick! That's who could and I'm so sick of this push and pull thing you play at. But we are all dealing with things inside and you refuse to be, not even helped, but at least cared for!”
He's gotten up from the bed, shaking his head with as much intent as he can muster, "If you loved me it would kill you.”
"Says who?” You no longer care about whether or not you're keeping composure or yelling, you've spent every moment you can trying to assure him and within the hours you slept he decided to tear it all apart. "Oh right, just you! You and your endless piles of self doubt, I'm not asking for that to go away, but you could at least be open to hearing others out."
“It's for you, honey, I couldn't live with myself if I put you through that."
Any movements you were making stop as you stare at him, he's so honest, so eager, and you radiate an anger he despises himself for making, but wants to catch the last few sparks of before he leaves forever. “You are so selfish. Have you ever even considered the fact that I would suffer more without you, then with you, or were you too busy trying to punish yourself for not spending every moment of your life in a pile of guilt?”
He doesn't answer and you know it's a no. Part of you says it's wrong to tell a man who's always eating himself up from the inside that he's selfish, but you feel like you're on autopilot.
"I'm a person, Finnick! Everyone you've ever dated is. You do not get to play house for a year to live in a fantasy and then push us away whenever your thoughts are too much, that's why it doesn't work, you won't let it. And everyone who puts in the effort to love you, to care about you, has it all swept away when you're ready to wallow again. That way when you briefly decide it's over you can do it all over again.” You're pulling on the pants before you can look around for the shirt in some hidden spot.
Finnick feels like he's running cold, part of him knows you're right that his cycle is neverending, but you can understand, he tells himself. Even if you're a fellow victor, no one can help him, he's resigned himself to it and you're too light of a bubble to let you pop. So he has to live in denial, that he has to protect you from himself even if that is really what's attacking you now, “I care and I can't do this to you. You don't understand, I'm like a whirlpool waiting to suck everything in with me."
“You have." You find the shirt and button it up with fumbling fingers, blood pulsating in anger, sadness, and the want to beg him to change his mind and let you sit with forever. But you know you can't subject yourself to his cyclone of self-destruction any longer, not when you have your own struggles to deal with. The things you couldn't tell him about because of the constant pressure to be the light in his bleak outlook of the world, even when you were so tempted whenever it seemed like he was in his true state. The Finnick that was sweet and giving, or maybe you were an idealist wishing for a man that he could truly never be. “I won't fade into obscurity over you.” Your voice has become considerably softer and you gaze at his shaking body.
"What?” He asks, he knows that you won't understand why he has to do what he's convinced himself he must, but that doesn't prevent him from wanting to take it all back, embrace you, and promise to do better even if he knows he won't.
"I'm a victor too, Finnick. Every party, I'll be there, when you have to watch required programs on the television, I'll be there. I won't take a step back just because I'm hurt, we're all wounded dogs, Finnick, some of us just handle it better and I won't quiet myself just because it might remind you of another person you've pushed behind.”
“I'm not asking you too."
“No, but it's what you're used to. I'm not just someone else from home, you will always hear my voice, see my face, and I need you to know that. I want you to get better, Finnick, because I care about you more than you can even fathom, but I will be a hitch from what you're used to. You deserve to know that, I'm sorry if that makes it more difficult for you or maybe it's what you need. A wake-up call that whatever you're doing is what's actually hurting people not whatever fucked up fantasy it is you're listening to in your head.”
Finnick wanted you to know how much you cared, but said nothing as he pushed down more tears when you left, never to be in his room again. The mornings spent in your comfort are officially gone. You'd been right of course, he couldn't wallow and move on because you were everywhere. Your laugh in his ears at every party, your saccharine voice on the screen, your presence around every turn. Maybe you'd even been right when you insinuated this was what he was missing, he couldn't forget about you long enough to fall into his routine, especially not when the echoes that once told him he had to let you go sang a different tune. How destructive he was for letting the one person who could even attempt to anchor his tortured soul go.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Thank you for reading, as always feedback, comments, likes, reblogs, is all super appreciated! I was going to write another chapter of the lakes but I had this idea in my brain presenting so here it is. 💋
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fractalkiss · 15 days
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very short pierre/esteban, beginnings of a pacific rim au that i don't intend to continue so it's up here.
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Before Yuki got stationed off to Nagasaki, Pierre said that Yuki used to notice when there was a shift of flavor in the food served at the mess hall, and the added diligence with which the floors here got mopped and cleaned.
"I used to think it meant worse," Pierre explains.
"Not quite," Esteban says and lets the word linger on the pause, stale in the air, holding off on correcting Pierre; Kevin's already on it, his eyes crinkling next to Pierre at their lunch table , the scar near his brow twisting slightly.
"It does mean worse. It's not cleansing after ghosts--hasn't Guanyu told you that much?" Kevin says.
"Ghosts?" Pierre says, like he's about to laugh, but still unsure despite his bracing smile. Kevin's motioning for Pierre to push over his glass so Kevin can nudge Nico sitting on his other side hard in the ribs. Nico rolls his eyes but drags over the water pitcher to help refill. It's unfalteringly kind; Pierre's the new guy. He misses Yuki, for sure. He would have wanted Yuki in place of Esteban, had Pierre not been re-assigned here in Hong Kong.
Spring cleaning happens every now and then: Mechanics' schedules went into a new rotation. A chipped sparring stick or two was replaced with a shiny new one, when Fernando made his rounds before tending to the cadets and their training. When the food got better here, that meant the cooks were anxious as hell. Every number that ticked off a new Kaiju appearance signaled them cooking for their own lives as well, dishing out the best last meals.
~~
When Vahis shows up as a little circle on the radar, moving like a snail across the map and biding its time--hideous thing according to sightings, angrier than the last winged type that wrecked Tokyo--Pierre eats the wanton noodles on the menu slowly today. Even tries to add a drop of chilli oil when Esteban passes the bottle to him across the metal table. Pierre's adjusting well.
The fruits they served came in fresh from the market in season, much to Lance's approval.
"You gotta notice shit like this, man," Lance said the other day, around a mouthful of crisp apple. "I think it's mercy in every which way."
"Mercy, like what, fattening us up for slaughter?" Esteban said, and Lance had lowered down the apple with all due respect of a test pilot who knew the hulls of all five of their standing Jaeger models and their cannon specs down to the tee and was carefully optimistic about their winning probability in battles. The irony was that Lance won't ever be allowed to actually cut through the hard-skinned acidic belly of a Kaiju.
Pierre looked skeptical about this, while he'd been wrapping his hands and wrist with boxing tape, obviously listening in on Lance and Esteban in conversation in one of the communal break rooms. Esteban could almost hear him: your friend right here is one of the guinea pigs whose family name helped fund and perfect our weapons?
"Our fathers would have begged us to stay in school," Esteban said, in some sort of defense.
"Of course they would," Pierre agreed. His face looked openly distressed for a split second in a way that didn't appease Esteban, but didn't anger him either. Pierre already knew that the technically correct phrase would have been 'if our fathers were still alive, they would have begged us to stay in school.' The one time they tested their neural link, was all it took for Pierre to know things about Esteban--things that hadn't been in secondhand passing courtesy of Charles and Esteban's mother being the pigeon carrier. Of course their mothers are still in touch. Pierre knows now, that when a Kaiju had struck the coastline of Panama where Esteban and his family had been stationed six years ago, Esteban had watched with his eyes wide open when it ripped apart the bridge his father had been on.
But even before then, together with Charles, the three of them had long been familiar with grief. The audacious thing about the state of the world is that it should make drifting all the more easier with Pierre.
The doctor assigned to do all their psych evals is patient. She listens to Esteban recounting their progress about strengthening their link. She doesn't blink either when Pierre keeps fucking breaking it, the sensation like a taut rubber band being snapped at the end so Esteban feels it smarting down to his molars.
"Does he talk about his old partner?" She asks, her brow furrowed only slightly.
Esteban pushes his thumbs against each other in his lap. "No. Charles is not--"
"Not dead, yes. And we count our blessings every single day. But you say that Charles is not fit to fight anymore," she goes on. "Have you told Pierre that this base is not always where demoted cadets go?"
"Of course."
Her small smile is gentle. "Then it will take time, like all things. I think you know this."
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RE Villains and my psychological opinion (+mini history lesson hehe.)
I really like the way CAPCOM writes their villains. Everyone talks about the main protagonist(s) such as Chris, Leon, Jill, Claire, etc. I think we should definitely give some credit to the evil guys of the franchise. I have my own two favorite villains, Lord Saddler (RE4/RE4R), and Svetlana (Damnation). I wish I could write about ALL the characters but that would almost be a book's length.
(I am no expert in psychology, i barely survived my spring semester lol. I am not licensed and i most certainly am not a doctor. The history part is true, but the psychology is just me being hyper fixated on the minor details. Once again, take this lightly. Also, i have my psych final soon and I'm so ready to kick ass.)
There's just something so alluring to me about the obsession with one being known as a God or God's messenger. Lord Saddler really got me thinking about how easy it is for a narcissist to make a cult about, essentially, themselves. Everyone knows the story about Narcissus, the mythological Greek God, and how he fell in love with his own reflection and basically starved himself to death. Hence why the term narcissism derived from the myth of Narcissus. Narcissism goes deeper than just one being self-centered. A narcissist is much more evil- they lack empathy and exploit others for their own goals/achievements. I would like to believe that Lord Saddler definitely has a narcissistic disorder because he took it upon himself to become, and as I like to call it, The God of Plaga. I mean, the dude literally created his own "bible" and his own insignia. He, like James in RE0, believe that they can conquer the world using the parasite. But the psychology behind it, or least in my humble knowledge, is really just a narcissist playing God. Saddler's psychological disorder is being projected onto religion, maybe in a response to a traumatic event. Freudian theory states that projection is a psychological defense mechanism where an individual projects unwanted thoughts, feelings, and motives on another person/group. I'd like to think that Saddler is a narcissist that projects his own motives as defense mechanism using religious methods.
I'm no expert on modern religion but I do like to think myself as someone well versed in BCE and CE religion. As i played through the game, I couldn't help but notice some similarities between Saddler and his cult and some ancient religious beliefs. Ancient civilizations often believed that their God's power was absolute, thus making religion an important part of their culture. The village in which the game takes place obviously contains a small church and then a castle- followed by the peasant village in the beginning of the game. We know that this is a remote location in Spain and since Spain was known as Hispania during the Roman Empire, it would be safe to say that maybe MAYBE CAPCOM was inspired by the history of the country that had followed all the way to CE. I'd like to believe that Saddler was probably inspired by the ruling of the Roman Empire after Emperor Theodosius (who declared Christianity as the state religion of the empire.) Saddler, much like Theodosius, created his own religion but it was considered a minority. Once Saddler had recruited more people, his "empire" expanded, much like Christianity all across Europe in CE. His plan was obviously to expand his domain and control the world with Las Plagas. Of course, this is just my own theories and observations.
I really loved Svetlana's character as a villain. She's cunning, diplomatic, and very goal oriented. It fascinated me the way she handled situations, as if she already knew everything from the start (except the temporary unification of Russia and the US). We know she used to be a combat instructor, or still is maybe. To me, she's the definition of a wolf in a sheep's disguise. Which again brings to my point on my analysis on Saddler- a narcissistic will do anything to make sure they accomplish their goals, regardless of whose lives are at risk. Svetlana, unlike Saddler, has international support and can manipulate ambassadors to be in her favor. She already has control over her republic as president, she only needs a little more help from her international supporters. This is not only a trait from a businessperson but also someone who is very smart and probably knows how to use people at their expense. But that's every politician, in my opinion. Greed and money are basically what sugar is to kids for politicians and government officials. The way she smirked and basically declared her victory when she was talking to Buddy through the barrier was literally so evil of her part, but it made sense. At the end of the day, I'd like to think that she really just had this urge of not messing up the country since she probably faced a lot of pressure from being the first female president of the country.
Svetlana is very smart. She resigned of her position right after the civil war ended because she knew the consequences of basically breeding Nemesis’s cousins (LOL) A narcissist is never dumb and if they are then they aren’t narcissists. Narcissists are extremely smart and extremely manipulative with no sense of guilt.
I would like to talk more about James and then deeper in Resident Evil Village bc that game is literally so well written I’m like 😍🫶🏼
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prinnamon · 5 months
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i was gonna comment this under a youtube video but at this point i think it needs to be its own post.
sometimes i forget how frustrating Xen was to play because i adore it so much from a narrative standpoint. throughout the entirety of half-life 1, you are fighting creatures who have been ripped from their natural environment and thrust into an unfamiliar place. some of them are sentient but enslaved, having no choice but to fight you and aid the invasion of Earth. some of them have an intelligence more comparable to animals, and they are reacting to the situation as animals react, fighting and utilizing their own evolved defense mechanisms to prolong their own lives, but since this harms us and others we are forced to see them as a threat and eliminate them.
Xen puts the player in the position of the alien, ripped from your home and sent somewhere totally unlike anything you have seen before. you have no frame of reference, nothing to which to compare your surroundings. every outside stimulus is completely new and you have to process it all at once every second with no prior experience to draw from. and the things here, whether they mean to be or not, are hostile to you, so you have to fight back. gordon is now in the position of Houndeye #274 who was eebied from its relaxing healing spring into the bright unwelcoming halls of Black Mesa!!! i think it could even be argued that gordon's position is almost even analogous to that of the Vortigaunts, since we learn later that gordon was manipulated somewhat by forces outside his control, and for all the talk about him being a "free man," he never had much choice but to do what he did if he wanted to survive.
in my mind, these are some of the core themes of hl1: humans aren't alone, humans aren't benevolent, and humans are kind-of fucking terrifying from an outsider's perspective. the nihilanth bossfight reinforced that for me, because the only way the player can win is by behaving like a persistence predator. humans' strength isn't in their raw power. if that was the only factor in the fight between the player and the nihilanth, the player would lose. it's because no matter how frustrating it is, the player has patience to keep pushing forward, to keep removing themself from the places where the nihilanth tries to get rid of them, to chip away at the boss's health and destroy the things giving it power. going a step further up the ladder of abstraction, the player may die and get teleported away from the fight dozens of times, but they have the power to quicksave and reload for a better outcome. some people may put the game down, but chances are if you got that far in the game you persist through the tedium and win.
from the nihilanth's perspective, the entire fight is like that scenario where you are immortal but somewhere in the world there is an also-immortal and indestructible snail that kills you if it touches you and it is always approaching you no matter what but you never know where it is unless you can see it. that's what the player is. the player is a very slow-moving but deadly force that will inevitably always win by virtue of the fact that it does not tire (can pause, recuperate, and return to the fight at any time) and it does not want anything except to destroy its opponent (literally cannot leave without doing so).
and since that impacted me so much, i conveniently forget about the bullshit jumping puzzles along the way
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
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Been a minute since I’ve given a life update!
I’m on track to graduate in May and I did indeed spend $60 just to make sure I had a cap to put Eddie Munson’s STUPID ADORABLE face on it even though I’m not even walking in the ceremony
I’ve finally been able to hire someone at work and I’ve been training them all week so my life is gonna be a lot fucking easier!!!! I can actually do the things I’m supposed to do at work and not constantly be distracted by customers calling in!!!!
Liams travel hockey season is drawing to a close as state championships start tomorrow and go through Sunday. His team placed 3rd in regular season in their division so they’ll be fighting it out this weekend to bring home the banner, trophy, and medals for 1st! I’m not gonna mention my anxiety because I’m certain everyone will be able to hear my heartbeat from wherever you are in the world. I’m so so proud of how far he’s come this season. It blows my mind that when he made the team, he was convinced he’d play defense and was still hesitant to touch the puck and he’s going into state as a left wing forward with 10 goals and 20 assists. We’ve spent so much time at the rink it feels like a second home, the bartender makes me and Liam special drinks every Wednesday, and we’ve gotten closer to some of the hockey families than I’ve probably ever been with my extended family 😂 He’s already signed up for spring training and a couple things over the summer for development and ice time, but tryouts for next season are in May and we’re already preparing for it.
Oh and I’m writing my first bang fic! So that’s gonna consume a lot of time soon but it will hopefully be incredibly worth it for everyone 👀
Hope everyone’s doing well! I swear I’m gonna catch up on ao3 comments next month!!! I fell behind writing for @steddielovemonth and that’s consumed all of my free time, but next month I’m making it my top priority along with finishing mechanic Eddie finally!!!
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starrysharks · 2 months
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Now now, I know you have the Main 3 Projects you have + In-Dev Projects right now but aside from these, will you be able to focus on Metallic Miracle one day? /genq
This might be a suggestion probs. but, I don't know if you have any characters in there or not-
hopefully! i'm personally proud of myself for the concept, and i do write for it from time to time, so maybe one day i'll be able to write a proper script and release it one day. right now i've got a few characters done, and a general plot:
the story takes place in a futuristic earth - the protagonist, M1-RA, is an 8 year old former child soldier who fought in a war against these aliens that were specifically weak to prepubescents. all the other soldiers were put into a "synthetic coma" and controlled by trained adults, M1-RA somehow escaped the coma and was left to fight and evade the aliens to the best of her ability. why did she escape the coma you might wonder? it's because of her mother, who was one of the scientists who helped to design the robot parts that would be surgically added to the children's bodies - she and M1-RA attempted to escape and live off the grid, but were eventually caught, and M1-RA's mother was killed and M1-RA herself was left to be drafted a few years after every other child (so she was only in the war for a little under a year.)
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that little bunny robot with her is rabbot - which is an AI robot that helps her out, and was originally built by her mother as a multi-functional device (think GPS + flashlight + various other things).
anyway, after the war (which lasted roughly 5 years) only around 10,000 survivors were left of the millions who fought. those survivors were also stuck in a child's body forever as the cyborg-ification was permanent and stoped their bones from developing further (i know it makes no sense lol). those survivors were sent to orbit the earth in small shuttles as they couldn't be taken out of their comas, and most died. however, after around 50 years it was discovered that M1-RA and 2 other survivors still had a heartbeat, and were therefore returned to earth. M1-RA was sent to a large city (still unamed) and now lives with this group of city defenders (kind of like firefighters but for mid-level alien threats) and the story revolves around her, her trauma, and character battles, as well as trying to find the other survivors.
for the defense group, i have a few characters, but haven't drawn them in digital yet. i'll sketch them out -
firstly thoma, who isn't the leader but likes to act like she is. she's a 30 year old basically fitness influencer type, and is also a super genius who created these aids to help her in battle (the pigtail arms). M1-RA (or mira as she's known as by the defense team) lives in her home, and she's kind of rude and snobby but she means well.
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secondly nonon, the explosives specialist. he's kind of a hyperactive weirdo who's obsessed with blowing stuff up, and is pretty silly and unserious when it comes to his job. he tries to help mira take risks and venture out more.
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and the last character i've properly developed for the defense team is lovelox. she's the mechanic and is super sweet and kind, but treats mira like glass. she's a good friend/rival of thoma and helped make her robot arms.
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so yea they all go on adventures and what not, its kind of fuzzy right now but i hope you don't mind me springing all of this on you lol. thank you for the ask, i don't really talk about metallic miracle so getting to dump so much info in one go is good fun ^^
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dandorime · 5 months
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Another section from this fic.
"Haaaaaang on."
"Agent, you're going to fall!"
"Am not, just haaaaaang on..."
Agent Phoenix was practically dangling upside-down from his swing like an awkward trapeze artist, straining to reach his arm under the center drawer of the massive wooden desk that dominated the room. How annoying, he thought to himself, that he couldn't TK a target he couldn't see.
He patted around desperately to find the small metal screw that would release a spring. He knew it was there.
It was there last time.
"What are you even trying to do?" Reginald Crane hissed, nervously gripping the edge of the open skylight with both hands as he peered down from above.
The half moon overhead didn't provide enough light for either spy to see one another clearly, but the swinging and creaking of the metal cables holding Phoenix's seat didn't give his handler any sense of confidence in his agent's actions.
Phoenix, likewise, couldn't see the look on his handler's face, but he could tell from the anxiety in his voice that Crane wasn't going to be patient with his acrobatics for much longer.
"I'm trying to find the... there might be a switch or something," Phoenix hissed back.
*click*
Crane didn't know about the metal screw under the desk, of course.
Every drawer on the desk gently popped open at once, mercifully without any explosions. The ornamented cabinet containing his target, a mask that could mimic the faces and voices of four powerful world leaders, opened its door wide with a flourish as if to welcome him. 
"I'll be damned," the agent heard Crane whisper from above, "how did you know?"
Phoenix grinned in the dark. It had taken him more than a few deaths to play his way through the Fabricator's desk of traps. He'd spent hours here, dangling from an uncomfortably small swing on cables in the dark with only a flashlight and his handler's advice to pick apart dozens of defensive mechanisms.
Well, hours from his point of view, anyway. To Crane and the rest of the world, it had still only been two minutes.
He was finally in. Security was still five minutes away, none of the room's defenses had been sprung, and the mimic mask seemed to smile at him.
Surely the Fabricator wasn't patient enough to disarm everything one-by-one every time she sat at her own desk, was she? Even Dr. Zor had shortcuts through their security, if you had the right code or a key card, or an awkwardly-placed ornamental orb. Heck, the Fabricator was probably responsible for building those, too...
That line of thought sent Phoenix's hunting for a workaround to the convoluted series of dials and secret compartments, and after much more trial and error, this was the payoff. 
"Install this tracking device somewhere discreet," Crane whispered, lowering a tiny suitcase on a line containing an even tinier chip, "and then close everything up tight."
Phoenix plucked the chip off the line, just like he'd done the last dozen times. The second of these, he'd dropped the tracker, lost it in the thick carpeting on the floor, and ended up patting around for it on his hands and knees like a half-blind man hunting an errant contact lens.
The sting of shame was still fresh in his mind.
Then again, this was the hardest mission he'd had in a long time, Phoenix reasoned to himself as he popped the mask open, careful not to jostle it loose from its stand. He supposed Crane must've known it would be tricky if he brought along extra tech like a winching swing and a tracking device. It was probably why he'd come along as the support agent himself, instead of sending Phoenix in alone with an earpiece. But if anything, that decision had made it worse.
Dying in front of a helpless friend was a thousand times worse than dying alone.
As he clipped wires and soldered the tracker into place for the fourth (or was it fifth?) time, Phoenix let his mind replay the worst of it.
Dying alone meant Phoenix could tear off his microphone and swear his frustrations to his last poisoned breath, or shorten the wait with a bullet to the skull. He could trigger a bomb and experience some catharsis in his final seconds, watching Zor's plans and property go up in smoke.
But no, each time he died in the Fabricator's studio, he had to bite his tongue and bleed out quietly, all the while knowing his handler was perched on the roof with no cover, watching him die. 
---
Crane, ever vigilant, had picked up on the guard's approach along the overhead walkway as his agent was still stupidly bumbling around looking for the tracking device on the floor.
Phoenix had long since surrendered his own situational awareness to focus on finding the tracking device. He wasn't even listening for forgets when he finally heard the urgent, whispered shout of warning:
"AGENT, HIDE!"
Paralyzed with surprise, Phoenix did not hide. He inexplicably froze as the beam of a flashlight from the walkway around the upper floor of the room raked across his back.
Zero cover, out in the open, caught red-handed.
God, I'm a fool.
Damnit.
He heard both shots and felt the bullets bite through him, slamming him into the floor like they had nailed him there. Effectively, they had. A lung shot, let alone two, was more than enough to sap away 99% of whatever stamina he may otherwise have had to fight back or make a break for it.
He was dying.
Then there was a third shot.
A quiet, pained cry sounded above. Broken glass rained down over everything, and Phoenix felt a heavy thud, somewhere close, on the floor next to him.
Oh god.
He blindly reached for the body that he knew lay somewhere to his right, grasping desperately with weakening fingers, but never managed to make contact.
Rapidly bleeding out, the agent found he didn't have the strength to even lift his head and look. In truth, he didn't want to.
Reggie.
The security guard was talking fast and loud on his radio: "Two intruders! I shot 'em... I think they're both dead..."
Both dead.
Those words gave him a pang of guilt like nothing he'd ever felt on a mission before. Worse than an arrow, worse than a bullet.
Fuck, I'm sorry...
A last bloody cough escaped from his chest, and everything faded away.
In the brief dark interlude that always came after death, Phoenix caught himself actually looking around for Crane through his closed eyes. He knew it was stupid; writhing around alone in the absolute blackness, but the urge to apologize to his friend was overwhelming. What would he say, if he actually found Crane there? Christ, what could he say? 
I'm so sorry, I got you killed. I got us both killed. I usually only get me killed...
Consumed with guilt and anger, he hardly noticed the physical pain ebbing away. A familiar lightness, a floating sense of stasis soon took hold.
The lights flicked on.
Agent Phoenix was back in the Room. 
Goddamnit.
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 years
Note
Hello hello hello! A bit of a strange request but here goes nothin'. Could I have Glamrock Freddy, Montgomery Gator, and Michael Afton witnessing their Fem! Selective Mute! S/O flip her lid and start screaming at a guest (or in Michael's case a random jerk) who's being rude and talking bad about the boys?
Glamrock Freddy
He’s aware that some guests talk about how “dangerous” the older Freddy models were. But it hurts being compared to them. They were heavily flawed, and supposedly “possessed”. 
Why would anyone think he would be the same? Just because he was more alive and was capable of thought?
Although he never expresses these worries to you openly, you saw how upset he got when you both overheard some rude guests talking about him.
“I don’t like that stomach hatch thing. Remember that clown Freddy who had one and used it to kidnap kids?”
“Yeah, I saw the inside when he was bringing out the cake. It’s huge. My daughter ran to him and I had to yank her back. I don’t trust that robot near her. Like..what if he snatches her when I’m not looking?”
“You know the company will deny it ever happened even if you stood right there and it was caught on camera.”
“I wish they just scrapped him alongside Bonnie and Foxy. Those names are giving this place a bad rep-”
Hearing them talking so much shit finally pushed you to the limit as you stormed over. Freddy had no idea what you were gonna do, but was stunned as you snapped at them for insulting him.
The bear rarely heard you ever talk, which you attributed to selective mutism. He understood what that meant quickly and didn’t mind it at all.
So for you to break your silence to defend him made him feel warm inside (though he worries you’ll strain your voice).
Once they leave and apologize, you skip back to Freddy with a smile, perfectly calm. “They won’t bother you anymore.”
His own smile is huge and his mechanical heart is full <3
Montgomery Gator
Monty’s not afraid to get snappy with the guests--especially kids who whine about where Bonnie is and loudly complain that they liked the rabbit better.
He’s literally that “stop fucking crying bitch waa waa waa” audio from tiktok (but obviously internally since his programming won’t allow profanity).
Occasionally he hears parents mutter about how aggressive he is and keeping their kids away from him at all costs. If it didn’t violate protocol and risk him being scrapped, he’d have them by the throats for sure.
But he overhears one parent saying they’ll start a petition to get him decommissioned, which genuinely worries him.
Though you save the day and let loose on them, having no profanity filter as you basically tell them to gtfo and see if corporate cares about their shitty petition.
Monty, who witnesses all of this going down, gawks before smiling as he realizes his doll was willing to speak up in his defense.
He knew of your selective mutism (which makes for an interesting dynamic with the loud and brash gator), though to see you do this for him makes him grin.
Michael Afton
His face was known all around town, rumors about his tragic mistakes as a teenager always springing up.
People everywhere did double-takes when they see him out in public with you before whispering to each other about the “Afton boy” or “brother-killer”.
As if Michael didn’t already have nightmares from that incident and hated comparisons to his father...it got harder and harder to ignore them.
Especially when one jerk storms up to you two and tries coaxing you away from him.
“C’mon, sweetie. You don’t wanna be around people like him.”
This filled you with such unbridled rage, but you just force a smile and approach them, which breaks Michael’s heart at first....
Until you stomp on their shoe and tell them very loudly to fuck off and never speak to your boyfriend like that ever again.
Your voice startles even him, though he’s so grateful you’re willing to stand up for him and chase the stranger off.
It certainly won’t be the last time that happens, but he’s happy you’ll be by his side no matter what bullshit people say.
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Text
Yet another preview of another smut Lucifer x f!sinner reader
No smut yet so no warnings!
It was time for bed and Lucifer was still working. You knew he worked late sometimes but this seemed a little later than usual. You decided to take a look to see if he was still in his office. Sure enough, you saw him sitting down at his desk when you entered the room. But when you looked closer, you saw that he’d fallen asleep at his desk, his head resting in his arms. He looked so peaceful lying there, you almost didn’t want to disturb him. But you knew he’d feel a lot better if he actually slept in your bed instead of hunched over his desk. Quietly, you walked towards him trying not to make any loud noises that might startle him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking it lightly.
“Luci?,” you whispered, “Luci, it’s time for bed, wake up sleepy head.” He moaned quietly, but your shaking didn’t seem to have done the trick. You shook his shoulder a little hard. “Luci, c’mon hon.” Nothing. You took your other hand and placed it on his other shoulder, shaking him even more. “Lucifer!,” you nearly screamed!
With that, Lucifer’s eyes shot open, pushing himself off the desk. “AAHHH!!! WHAT?!?! What’s going on?!,” he yelled. You never saw him so frazzled before, it was kind of cute. But what you really didn’t expect was to see Lucifer’s wings spring out from his back. It must have been an involuntary reaction from the shock of being woken up so suddenly. His eyes found yours and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Oh, it’s you, darling,” he breathed. “You really scared me there! I guess I must have fallen asleep, forgive me.” You were only half listening to him at this moment, your gaze was still fixed on his angelic wings. You’d only seen them once or twice before, but never for long. It was then that Lucifer turned his head and noticed what had caught your attention. “Oh! Sorry about that, it’s a defense mechanism, as silly as that sounds. I’ll put them away-”
“No, wait!”, you shouted louder than you meant to. Lucifer cocked an eyebrow at you, not understanding why had stopped him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just…I never get to see your wings. They’re really beautiful.”
A light blush dashed across his face, he gave you a shy smile. “O-oh, thank you! I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.”
“That’s a shame,” you pouted, “I think they’re incredible.” You walked closer to him to get a better look at them. Their white and red coloring were breathtaking. Their length took up almost the entirety of the room you were in, and his office was not small in the least. A tiny part of you wondered if he always had red feathers, or if they had changed after he…
You didn’t want to think about that.
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mariana-oconnor · 1 year
Text
The Beryl Coronet pt 1
Another one where I remember the title and then literally nothing else. There are a lot like that. I swear I have read most of these before, and watched the entire Granada series, but apparently my memory is just appalling.
One assumes that there will be a beryl coronet involved. i think beryls might be emeralds? (The Internet says both aquamarine and emerald are examples of beryl, my fleeting interest two decades ago in precious and semiprecious stones finally pays off!)
“Holmes,” said I as I stood one morning in our bow-window looking down the street, “here is a madman coming along. It seems rather sad that his relatives should allow him to come out alone.”
So we're starting out strong here. In one paragraph we have established that Watson is living with Holmes ('our bow-window') (where is his wife?) and with some period-typical judgement of mental health. I'm guessing the man in question is probably agitated from whatever incident has sent him to request Holmes' assistance, and not suffering from a mental illness, but the two are not necessarily mutually exclusive. Or it could be the onset of brain fever...
For a while he could not get his words out, but swayed his body and plucked at his hair like one who has been driven to the extreme limits of his reason. Then, suddenly springing to his feet, he beat his head against the wall with such force that we both rushed upon him and tore him away to the centre of the room.
Well that definitely sounds like he does have some condition. And if he didn't before, beating your head against a wall that hard is liable to give you some brain damage if you're not lucky. Glad that Watson and Holmes stopped him.
"Public disgrace I might have faced, although I am a man whose character has never yet borne a stain. Private affliction also is the lot of every man; but the two coming together, and in so frightful a form, have been enough to shake my very soul. Besides, it is not I alone. The very noblest in the land may suffer unless some way be found out of this horrible affair.”
Oh, no, I was right the first time. He's just agitated by his misfortune. Wow... this guy lacks coping mechanisms. He's really hyping this up, though, Public disgrace, private affliction, shaking his soul, the very noblest in the land (not that I particularly care about them, but the stakes they are high). I assume from the title that it's a beryl coronet that has been misplaced in some publicly noticeable way. If it turns out that he just misplaced the meat for his dinner, I will be judging him hard for all this melodrama.
“I feel that time is of value,” said he; “that is why I hastened here when the police inspector suggested that I should secure your co-operation. I came to Baker Street by the Underground and hurried from there on foot, for the cabs go slowly through this snow. That is why I was so out of breath, for I am a man who takes very little exercise."
Mr Holder: Time is of the essence.
Also Mr Holder:
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We don't need to know how you got to Baker Street, we already know you arrived. Maybe if things are so urgent you should... start with the urgent thing and then talk about how unfit you are and how you need to do more exercise.
“‘It is absolutely essential to me,’ said he, ‘that I should have £50,000 at once. I could, of course, borrow so trifling a sum ten times over from my friends, but I much prefer to make it a matter of business and to carry out that business myself. In my position you can readily understand that it is unwise to place one's self under obligations.’"
First off, hello BofE inflation calculator: 50k in modern money is approximately £5.2 million today.
Second, 'I could just ask my friends. I totally could ask them and they could all give me this money easily. I'm only here because I want this to be business. I don't want to be obliged to them.' Why does this very famous person (Prince of Wales?) feel so defensive about this? He doesn't need to explain why he's asking a bank not his friends. That's literally what the bank is there for. This feels like what someone would say if they didn't have any friends. Or if they'd already borrowed millions from their friends and never paid them back.
“‘Next Monday I have a large sum due to me, and I shall then most certainly repay what you advance, with whatever interest you think it right to charge. But it is very essential to me that the money should be paid at once.’"
I know this guy is famous and (probably) royal and therefore by the rules of these stories therefore probably above reproach, but I would not want to give him a 5 million pound loan. The 'I could totally ask my friends' and this 'I'm totally going to pay you back on Monday. I've got loads of money coming on Monday' are warning signs for me.
"‘You have doubtless heard of the Beryl Coronet?’ “‘One of the most precious public possessions of the empire,’ said I."
Yep, my money is on this being Albert, Prince of Wales, him what would become Edward VII. Iirc he had a bit of a reputation for being a party boy prince, so if he really can't get any money from his friends (even if asking for 5 million were a reasonably thing to do) I wouldn't be surprised if it was because he wasn't good at paying people back.
This mfer just casually totes around some of the crown jewels, though. Just got 10 million in a case that he's carrying around. No one will miss it for a little while. I guess at this time they weren't on display at the Tower of London. I really want this coronet to be stolen so bad, and I have a feeling it's going to be.
"...imbedded in soft, flesh-coloured velvet..."
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Whytf did you call it 'flesh-coloured'? Is the colour that important that you needed to specify it, and even if you needed to specify it, why choose those words? Why? Couldn't it have been red, or blue, or green? Why 'flesh-coloured'? ACD, I just want to talk.
"'Is the security sufficient?’ “‘Ample.’"
Well, if this guy says there's ample security, I guess there must be. Clearly that's enough reassurance for me to leave my ten million pound shiny hat here with no problems at all. Details? Who needs details? Pah. It's just a priceless object that technically belongs to the state rather than me.
I don't want this coronet to be recovered. I want it to be lost forever. Whoever stole it should get a gold star.
But it's okay because he makes it very clear that it shouldn't be lost or damaged.
"When I was alone once more, however, with the precious case lying upon the table in front of me..."
And then walks out leaving it just on the desk of this random guy he's never met before.
"I already regretted having ever consented to take charge of it."
Should have thought about that earlier, my dude. Also, if you know it's a national possession, is it even legal for the Prince of Wales to use it as collateral for a loan? Surely it would have to actually be one of his possessions to be valid. Or at least having the signature of the actual owner (Queen Victoria in this case, although possibly parliament?) to be used as such. Nothing about this loan is a good idea.
If he doesn't repay it are you just going to... keep national property?
"However, it was too late to alter the matter now, so I locked it up in my private safe and turned once more to my work."
You just... put it in your own private safe?
WTF even is this buffoonery? How is this... What is this... I can't even. Does the bank not have a secure vault? With guards etc.? But no, any safe will do.
"I determined, therefore, that for the next few days I would always carry the case backward and forward with me, so that it might never be really out of my reach."
I guess the bank does not have a vault. Or a night watchman, or literally ANY KIND OF WAY OF DEALING WITH ITEMS LIKE THIS. When it seems that this is something that they are in the habit of doing, although maybe not on this level. And they clearly have £1000 notes hanging around. Do they just all have them in their individual safes as well?
"I did not breathe freely until I had taken it upstairs and locked it in the bureau of my dressing-room."
Super secure. A+ job.
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I've seen those old bureaus, the locks are so simple I could pick one with one of my hair pins!
I am fully on the side of any and all thieves in this escapade (unless it turns out the Prince of Wales has hired them himself for nefarious purposes) but at this point in time I have lost most of the sympathy I have for these people.
The only reason I don't think it should be stolen right now is that, honestly, it presents so little challenge to any potential thieves it's actually insulting.
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"She came with an excellent character, however, and has always given me satisfaction."
Language evolves, meaning changes, this does not mean what it looks like it means. But still, it gives me the ick. Nope. No thank you. Especially when followed by the description of how pretty she is.
"My family itself is so small that it will not take me long to describe it. I am a widower and have an only son, Arthur. He has been a disappointment to me, Mr. Holmes—a grievous disappointment."
Oh boy. So you took a ten million pound coronet and locked it in a desk in the same house as a son who is perpetually in debt and cannot be trusted with money. Even if he didn't take it, which seems likely as he's clearly being marked as the most obvious suspect. I stg you should not be this foolish.
“And, indeed, I could not wonder that such a man as Sir George Burnwell should gain an influence over him, for [...] I have found myself that I could hardly resist the fascination of his manner. He is older than Arthur, a man of the world to his finger-tips, one who had been everywhere, seen everything, a brilliant talker, and a man of great personal beauty. Yet when I think of him in cold blood, far away from the glamour of his presence, I am convinced from his cynical speech and the look which I have caught in his eyes that he is one who should be deeply distrusted. So I think, and so, too, thinks my little Mary, who has a woman's quick insight into character."
Add a fae to the tally of Sherlock Holmes supernatural encounters. Also, I'm going to call it now, Arthur is blameless and Mary is in love with Sir George Burnwell and they're going to run away together, or that's what he told her when he convinced her to steal the coronet. That's my theory. We shall see...
"She is a sunbeam in my house—sweet, loving, beautiful, a wonderful manager and housekeeper, yet as tender and quiet and gentle as a woman could be."
A thief? Honestly I want her to be even more after this description. The Victorian ideals of femininity were so trite. I hope she stole that coronet.
"I think that if anyone could have drawn him into the right path it would have been she, and that his marriage might have changed his whole life; but now, alas! it is too late—forever too late!"
... it is not a woman's job to fix a man, Mr Holder. If this story ends with her marrying Arthur I will be very sad. Although from the 'too late' is one of them dead?
“When we were taking coffee in the drawing-room that night after dinner, I told Arthur and Mary my experience, and of the precious treasure which we had under our roof, suppressing only the name of my client."
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You just... told them about it. Just... He says be discreet. It's 10 million pounds (£100k at the time). Your son has money problems. And you're just out here chatting about how you have essentially part of the crown jewels of the British Empire in a drawer upstairs.
My dude...
My actual dude...
You should have just taken the coronet out and used it as a centrepiece. it would have been less obvious.
Also, it's part of the crown jewels, how much use do you think 'suppressing the name of your client' is going to bloody be. There aren't a lot of people who can just help themselves to national bloody treasures.
“‘Where have you put it?’ asked Arthur. “‘In my own bureau.’ “‘Well, I hope to goodness the house won't be burgled during the night.’ said he. “‘It is locked up,’ I answered. “‘Oh, any old key will fit that bureau. When I was a youngster I have opened it myself with the key of the box-room cupboard.’"
That's what I said! Also... this is evidence in Arthur's favour because only the stupidest person in the world would say 'I could steal that' and then steal it. Although... given the levels of intelligence his father is showing, we can't hold out much hope for him. Perhaps his mother was the brains of this operation. I hope for Arthur's sake he takes more after her than his father.
"I started to go round the house to see that all was secure—a duty which I usually leave to Mary but which I thought it well to perform myself that night. As I came down the stairs I saw Mary herself at the side window of the hall, which she closed and fastened as I approached. “‘Tell me, dad,’ said she, looking, I thought, a little disturbed, ‘did you give Lucy, the maid, leave to go out to-night?’"
I'm going to try not to make this a Naval Treaty situation again. Data, data, data, etc. So instead of making an accusation here, I'm merely going to ask what Mary was doing at the window before she closed it, and point out that she is drawing attention to another possible suspect and also has good knowledge of all ways to access the house and ample opportunity to leave something open or unlocked.
These may all be coincidences. There are potential valid explanations for all of these things.
Or she might have just sent a message to Sir George Burnwell and planning to steal a coronet this evening.
“‘She came in just now by the back door. I have no doubt that she has only been to the side gate to see someone, but I think that it is hardly safe and should be stopped.’"
Though the narrative now wants us to think that Lucy is meeting with Sir George Burnwell... but my money is still on Mary. We already know Lucy has lots of suitors who hang around the grounds, she might well have been meeting with one of them.
"Are you sure that everything is fastened?’ “‘Quite sure, dad.’"
Only her word for that.
Not that I'm accusing her of anything. I'm merely... pointing things out. Factual things.
“‘Arthur!’ I screamed [...] "He appeared to be wrenching at it, or bending it with all his strength. At my cry he dropped it from his grasp and turned as pale as death. I snatched it up and examined it. One of the gold corners, with three of the beryls in it, was missing. “‘You blackguard!’ I shouted, beside myself with rage. ‘You have destroyed it! You have dishonoured me forever! Where are the jewels which you have stolen?’"
Some other facts that have been established. Arthur loves Mary and has asked her to marry him on multiple occasions. Just throwing that one out there. If he is trying to cover up a crime/take the blame for someone... perhaps...
Also, Mr Holder 'You have dishonoured me forever!'? Sure, but you dishonoured yourself first by being so very, very bad at your job. You had one job.
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“‘You have called me names enough,’ said he, ‘I will not stand it any longer. I shall not say another word about this business, since you have chosen to insult me. I will leave your house in the morning and make my own way in the world.’"
Arthur making some interesting choices here. Like 'I know I was just found with my hands on a broken national treasure, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to walk out of this one a free man.'
When you said he was spoiled, Mr Holder, I didn't think you meant that he really didn't understand the meaning of the word 'consequences' at all.
Although maybe you should have listened to him before biting his head off. I know things look pretty damning, but maybe talking would have been a better approach. "Hey, son. What you got there?" But I get that it's a little difficult to remain calm when you're looking at the twisted remains of both a ten million dollar mistake and your entire career/life.
"Mary was the first to rush into my room, and, at the sight of the coronet and of Arthur's face, she read the whole story and, with a scream, fell down senseless on the ground."
Convenient. First, that she was so close to the room that she would be the first to rush in, and second, that she's now unavailable for questioning.
But seriously, Mary, I am behind you all the way on this. Keep at it! I am cheering you on. I hope your performance was Oscar worthy.
I don't know what Arthur expects his father to do here. Lie, maybe, and say 'I don't know what happened to it, Your Royal Highness. Must have been a random thief and absolutely not the son who I told the location to and who I found red-handed with it.' I firmly believe he's innocent and his father walked in on him trying to fix the thing, but even so he's coming across as kind of naive here. I get maybe hoping that Daddy wouldn't turn him in, but he must have thought it was a possibility.
“‘At least,’ said he, ‘you will not have me arrested at once. It would be to your advantage as well as mine if I might leave the house for five minutes.’"
Before Sir George can get away with the missing gems.
Mary, keep playing dead, if you faint for long enough you'll miss all of it. Although your... maybe potential boyfriend... might ditch you. Probably will ditch you. If that's what's happening. I really hope he's not just playing you and the two of you are going to take those gems, get them recut and sold, and sail off into the sunset (hopefully not interrupted by a random shipwrecking incident), but something tells me Sir George Burnwell is playing you.
"...I implored him to remember that not only my honour but that of one who was far greater than I was at stake; and that he threatened to raise a scandal which would convulse the nation."
This is not a convincing argument. Honestly, if I was told that what I was doing might cause a scandal for the royal family, I would absolutely have the impulse to do it harder. I get that I am not the Victorian son of a gentleman, but still. 'You have to save the royal family from scandal' would just make me laugh. They wouldn't be in a scandal if they hadn't done something scandalous.
"A search was made at once not only of his person but of his room and of every portion of the house where he could possibly have concealed the gems; but no trace of them could be found, nor would the wretched boy open his mouth for all our persuasions and our threats."
When would he have had time to hide them that well, considering he was still holding the coronet when you found him? Also, if he is, as I suspect, covering for Mary, then he's probably sure he's doing the noble and honourable thing by protecting her reputation or whatever.
"My God, what shall I do! I have lost my honour, my gems, and my son in one night. Oh, what shall I do!”
Well, maybe you start by inventing time travel to go back and tell your past self to do better.
Tbf, regarding his mental state, if I had, through my own fault, lost/damaged an object someone had entrusted to me that was worth ten million pounds, particularly someone with as much power as the Prince of Wales, I would be in a catatonic state. So yeah. But also, any sympathy I have had for Mr Holder has been lost at every single step of this process. Why does the bank not have a vault for this purpose? Why did he take it home when he didn't have anywhere safe to put it? Why did he tell anyone he had it? Why did he not move it after being told by his son how insecure the bureau was?
And, to back up my theory with text. Reasons I suspect Mary:
She was present during the conversation when Mr Holding told them about the coronet and where he put it.
She also heard Arthur saying how easy that bureau was to break into.
She was at the window that night for an unknown reason.
We only have her word as to the house being locked up that night.
Arthur is unwilling to say anything in his own defence, which makes me think he is covering for someone. The only person we have been given reason to believe he would protect in the text (other than maybe his father) is Mary. He could be secretly in love with Lucy, but given we already have evidence of his affection for Mary, that would be an abrupt turn.
So that's my theory: Sir George Burnwell and Mary are secret lovers and Mary, hearing about the golden opportunity her foolish uncle has presented her with, tells her lover, then either Mary or both of them, go to steal it. Arthur, who honestly might have been in there trying to get £200 for his own debts, witnesses this, attempts to stop it. The coronet is broken. Either Burnwell gets away with the jewels, or Mary does and gives them to him (through the window we saw her at earlier perhaps?) and then hears the yelling and runs upstairs just in time to give the theatrical performance of her life.
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MIU. GET YOUR ASS IN HIGH GEAR. THE TOWER IS IN DANGER. DON'T ASK WHAT'S GOING ON, JUST MOVE IT.
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That sounded like it came from outside...!
*Miu hurries down the stairs after watching Big Bang Monokuma land miles away from the Tower. She walks out to see Keebo, Taichi, Mona and Hikaru waiting for her.
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Miu. We just got an SOS.
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Yeah, and I just saw a giant fucking bear land a few miles away. I know. I already sent Mii-Yu to scout.
*She pulls up a monitor in the Tower control room to show surveillance outside.
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Big Bang Monokuma. I never actually bore witness to it myself, but I heard stories after my recovery from the hospital. Do we really stand a chance against this thing?
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Komaru Naegi and Toko Fukawa took down that ass by themselves, but who knows what kinda upgrades Zetsubou gave it.
*Keebo adjusts his antenna and speaks into his internal radio.
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Emeleven! How long do we have until that thing is upon us!?
Mii-Yu: Judging from the speed it is moving, as well as the estimated weight of the body, my calculations dictate we have roughly T-600 seconds.
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That'd be about 10 minutes.
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That's nowhere near enough time!
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That's PLENTY of time.
*Miu steps in the middle of the group and raises her voice.
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Alright everyone, listen up! The enemy's come to us! We need to get as many men on the ground and as many defense mechanisms as we can online!
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The Tower is the Future Foundations last line of defense against Zetsubou's base! If it falls here, we lose big time.
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Yeah. The Future Foundation...Our FRIENDS are counting on us to save the day. But don't worry. I got a plan. But I'm gonna need as much help as I can get.
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I don't know how effective I can be in a situation like this but...I'm with you, Ms Iruma.
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Me too. Chihiro put me in charge of this place with his absence. I'm not gonna let him down.
Mii-Yu: BeeZero! We have a problem!
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What is it?
Mii-Yu: The Big Bang Monokuma! It didn't come alone! Monokuma sentries descending down on you in T-1 second.
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T-WHAT!?
*SMAASH!*
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!!!??
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GUAAAAGGGH!
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PUHUHUHUHUHU AHAHAHAHAHAHA!
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*BTCHOOO!*
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BUAGGH!?
*A Monokuma suddenly comes crashing through the Tower's reinforced wall. Though initially curled up, it springs to life and lunges towards Taichi, only for Miu to whip an electric cannon out from her back and shoot it in the face, deactivating it and causing it to slide along the ground.
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Alright...
*CLICK!*
*She cocks the weapon and reloads it as Mona hands additional weaponry to Taichi and Hikaru.
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...Let's boogie...!
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knockknoxwho · 2 months
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Hi this is my first post and time using tumblr in general so forgive any mistakes and/or inexperience that bleeds through my words. I intend to describe what this project is and make in depth posts for different concepts in the world
S.M.A.S.H, an idea that has been with me for a little bit. An apocalypse that takes place in modern day Texas, specifically in a town in the Austin-San Antonio corridor. I plan to incorporate many different species of the area, and chart their development, general transformation percentage, symbiotic relationships that form between mutated species, defense mechanisms, hunting practices, and whatever else I can think of when delving into each species. This apocalyptic world and all of its species and changes is something I plan to port into a ttrpg GURPS campaign. I hope you all enjoy this journey as much as me!
The Fungus:
The beginning and cause of the apocalypse as a whole. Created by a large company’s pharmaceutical department led by a Dr. Simon Adler(working name), with the idea and task of emulating a healing factor similar to the axolotl’s abilities. To achieve this goal the team began experimenting with implanting different forms of parasitic organisms with the intent of creating an organism with the ability to sustain a state of symbiosis in which it took nutrients from the human host and created new human tissue in return. they decided a fungus would be best for this, but I’m not sure if any type or species that fit the traits exist in the real world. The scientists then experimented on rats and other animals to see if this gmo fungus was able to connect and acted in the ways they intended, unfortunately it just didn’t take. As a last ditch effort they hypothesized that in order to make it able to infect many types of species they’d have to make the genome of the fungus itself unstable and rapidly adaptable to organic material it encounters. To do this Dr. Adler blasted a sample with radiation, while this killed most of it, the remainder proliferated very quickly and latched onto every animal in the lab (they were specifically more susceptible to fungal infection in order to ensure that the experimental fungus could take) and collapsed all at once.
I feel like now is a good time to specify how the fungus works and what actually makes this an apocalypse instead of just a very fast bio weapon.
The fungus first spreads by spores that are shot in clouds into the air, the spores then breathed in and deposited deep in the lungs of animals.
These spores then infect the area, and slowly move toward the brain, replacing healthy tissue with its own as it goes (the fungal tissue can show up as many different things, from spring and spongey to calcified and hard like coral).
Once it reaches the brain it cuts off all motor control, this causes the animal to collapse, seemingly due to death.
The fungus then rapidly consumes energy from the host and incorporates itself into healthy tissue throughout the body
This process takes only minutes to finish to completion. Due to the speed of such a change heaps of heat is created. many animals end up spontaneously combusting, spreading the fungus into the air even more. The few who can bear it, become mutated by the fungus into different creatures with new abilities and physiology. (Different animals have different rates at which the fungus can incorporate itself, meaning some animals are much more likely to combust than others, ex: ravens are very unlikely to survive, while deer have such a high survival rate that whole herds of them still roam after the apocalypse).
The animals in the lab then rapidly became much larger and starving due to the quick growth, this presented as a feeding frenzy. The entire team of scientists were killed in the lab due to either smoke inhalation or mauling from the animals. Due to the lack of perceived danger of the study initially, safeguards such as lockdowns or automatic vent closing and backup systems were absent from the facility. This caused the spores from the laboratory to gradually waft up and out into the city above. This vent specifically had become a widely used resting place of grackles, which will be the first mutated animal that I’ll dive deeply into in the next post.
If anyone has any suggestions on the story and/or the science behind it I would appreciate each and every one of them (same with tips on how to blog and that sort) thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed and have a nice day!
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next question
i think you will like this one...
what parts of hanekawa makes her your favorite? give me the full blorbo thoughtdump 😈
OH so you want it to be go time? It's go time? I suppose it's go time.
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Note I am NOT a writer or well articulated so this is going to be ALL over the place fdjkhds.
So just to begin, Hanekawa is such a fun and mysterious character for a lot of Bakemonogatari. She's literally the first character we're introduced to properly other than Koyomi. And their very first scene already establishes that they have some history together, what with her seemingly being Koyomi's only friend. And shows us a couple flashes of Black Hanekawa but refusing to elaborate. And the season just continues to drip feed us that there is just something UP with the sweet little glasses wearing student council president. Allusions to spring break, and Something happening during Golden Week that Koyomi and Meme don't really elaborate on much. Her genuinely offputting comments about the way Koyomi hitting Mayoi and how he's "supposed" to do it, combined with the fact she could see Mayoi at ALL once it's revealed what exactly Mayoi is and how her mechanics work. The fact that whenever she's on the phone she's NEVER at home, always wandering the streets. It builds up so much subtle intrigue in what the hell is going on with her behind the scenes, given that Koyomi basically outright idolizes her and talks up how amazing and perfect she is in most cases.
I'm a very big fan of these kinds of setups for characters and their arcs. It's why i'm currently so fascinated with how information and scenes regarding Ougi are being dripped out and revealed across Second Season. But I digress.
And then Tsubasa Cat rolls around and begins to shed some light on just exactly how NOT okay she is by revealing information on her home life, as well as the beginnings of exactly what the hell went down during golden week. It's at this point that the narrative starts to pick at the part of her that it's kept hidden so far. How much of her Good Girl act is a raw self defense mechanism for her. She's never had anyone she could actually open up to like Koyomi before. She just so...casually talks about the abuse she's suffered to him.
To go on a small tangent, a character trait about Koyomi that I like is that he's really willing to throw himself under the bus for the sake of cheering others up if need be. During the talk where Hanekawa talks about her father hitting her, he realizes that he can't really...do anything about it, and can see that she's getting really upset and desperate when she asks him not to tell anyone. So he starts going on a goofy little pervy bit to cheer her up, since she likes his weird sense of humor. It's a really sweet moment for them.
Anyway, back on topic. Not to detail my own life all too much but, the way Hanekawa defends herself from her environment and the world around her hits VERY close to home with my own experiences. As someone who's had to constantly mask and people please her whole life, it hits so close to home seeing how she handles all of that and...the consequences it has, in the form of Black Hanekawa.
This is just me speaking entirely from my own experiences but, learning from the Nekomono Duology that ultimately even with the influence of the Sawari Neko, Black Hanekawa is STILL Hanekawa, hit really close to home, in the way that when stresses in my life build up like this, due to my own masking and outright rejection or ignoring of them, it manifests in....destructive episodes. I start thinking, talking, and acting erratically in a way that doesn't feel like Me at all. I've ended up nearly permanently damaging very close and important relationships to myself several times because of this. I don't feel like myself at all, like I become a totally different person. And, I dunno, I just...I really felt something seeing Tsubasa be pushed to her breaking point and lashing out at everything around her in a similar way. It made me really...invested. In seeing where her character would go after that.
Augh and speaking of where her character goes like...I've mentioned it in past posts but I love how absolutely dynamic of a character she is too. Like, we've gotten to see her ENTIRE journey through this story. From her mysterious introduction in Bake, seeing her chronological introduction in Kizumonogatari and just...seeing how MUCH her and Koyomi went through together. With Kizu you can just...it's SO easy to see how Tsubasa fell in love with him. Their budding friendship and complicated feelings for one another through the story arc are SO sweet and precious to me. Like. For every part of her that's a front, she really is just a sweetheart underneath it all. She just isn't able to express it all healthily. I mean, her persistence and care managed to break through Koyomi's shell at his MOST soggiest and cringiest. And then Nise...while she doesn't appear much, I REALLY like how she's shown here, taking the aftermath of Tsubasa Cat where everyone just kinda...puts a bandaid on the situation.
Okay doubling back to talk about that, something that I think makes Tsubasa Cat stand out compared to the other 4 Bake arcs is that each of the other arcs resolve themselves pretty soundly? Like yeah we know that down the road more complications arise but, looking at the story in the order it's written, pretty much all of the arcs have a solid and happy end. But that doesn't really happen with Tsubasa Cat, because the issue of Hanekawa being unable to express her feelings just isn't addressed at all. We just go back to ignoring it and hoping for the best. And I love how Tsubasa tries to give off the air that something has changed. Wearing contacts and cutting her hair. Hair cutting being a pretty common symbolism of change and all. But...it's both superficial. It's another act, and I love it. I've been there myself so many times. Acting like i've made a big change to fix something going wrong when really...it's a lie i'm telling myself and to others.
And then there's the Nekomono Duology just, making EVERYTHING come full circle. The full explanation of just What Black Hanekawa is and how she relates to how Tsubasa is. Tsubasa spending time with Hitagi, who helps her start to break down some of the barriers she's put up, with their discussion of cooking among other things. Kako manifesting at a time that Koyomi is NOT there anymore for her to fall back on and depend on, forcing her to take what she learned from spending time with Hitagi, Karen and Tsukihi to heart and just...coming to terms with herself. ALL parts of herself. Tsubasa, Black Hanekawa, and Kako all together. Finally coming to change herself for REAL and make REAL steps towards healing and growth, symbolized far more proper by Black Hanekawa and Kako's white hair mixing with her natural black....it all comes together so wonderfully. And it's really helped me start to figure myself out in a similar way and make real, ACTUAL changes for the better for myself.
It's the narrative in Monogatari that has hit me the absolute hardest to date and I love every second devoted to it.
...and on a much less personal level, I just think she's really funny and cute in how she bounces off of all the other FREAKS in this cast. It's hard to call anyone in Monogatari "Normal" but I think she plays a hilarious straightman in most situations she's thrust into.
Gods and I've barely even talked about Black Hanekawa or Kako have I? Silly cat and Angy cat. The fact that Yui Horie can have such a distinct range for Tsubasa and Black Hanekawa is amazing, on top of the fact she has to pepper all those nyas into her speech too. I just love that the manifestation of Tsubasa's repressed stress and feelings is just acting like a silly catgirl who fucking GETS you. I wish that's how my stress manifestations were.
I've been typing this for like, an hour and I still feel like there's more I can say jdkhdf.
Basically. I love her so much. All of her. And she's been helping me understand and come to love all of me too.
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