Tumgik
#and maybe the death of another character too
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The Man 5
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen
Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You double check the lock on your apartment door. Your paranoia buzzes like a broken radio. You pace around the cramped bachelor, thoughts strewn all around. One moment, you’re desperately trying to figure out what to do next; find a job, go home, call Bre and beg her to take you back. The next, you’re looking out the window, expecting a villain to be waiting outside. Every worry you have strings back to that man... 
You manage to settle down enough to browse the scant offerings on Indeed. The work from home opportunities are questionable as you tap more information. Commission based... that’s not going to get you much. You send off a few applications for fast food joints, a quick solution just to you through, but you need something quick. Something today. 
You give up and throw your phone. You stare at it as it lays screen down on the other end of the couch. You see it in that man’s hand as he flicks his thumb. Who does he think he is? The real question is, who is he? 
You sigh and close your eyes, dragging your hands over your face. The more you think about it, the more it feels you were set up for failure. Why couldn’t Bre just warn you? Why couldn’t she tell you who he was? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? 
The stale smell of espresso urges you from the couch. You shuffle into the bathroom and start the shower. You strip off your clothes, slightly stiff from the dried coffee. Your skin is sticky too in places and there’s a particularly crusty patch on your chest somehow. 
You wash away the caffeine-laced christening. You linger beneath the water and let it slake over you. You lean forward, hands flat on the tile as hot rivulets wash over your back. Your muscles are coiled tightly. The stress of the day and those to come have you tied up like a knot. 
When you emerge, you yawn, too exhausted to keep up the existential despair. You stagger into the front room and over to your double bed. You trade the towel for a loose tee and sprawl across the futon. You melt into it and close your eyes. 
You’ll figure it all out tomorrow. Maybe. Hopefully. 
Or maybe tomorrow will be even worse. 
You wake up to the creak of your mail slot and the metallic clunk of it biting down on an paper. You gurgle and roll onto your side, coughing dryly as you rub your forehead. Your head is thick and foggy from sleep. A slightly thrum pulses in your temple. 
You hover at the edge of the bed, staring at the door, weighing the distance. You yawn and roll onto your feet. You pad across the apartment and pull the paper free of the flap. You open the trifold letter and your vision clears as the font comes into view. 
The building’s letterhead makes you think it’s another notice for the fire alarm test but the bold captials across the top send your heart into panic. NOTICE TO VACATE. What? How? Your rent for the month is paid, plus first and last. How can they evict you? You didn’t do anything. 
You look through the peephole. The hallway is empty. Dang. 
You rinse your face and brush your teeth hurriedly. You pull on a pair of sweatpants and your slip-on shoes. You check the mirror and shrug. Good enough. You don’t really care right now. You need to figure this out. 
You stomp down the flight of stairs to the building office and knock frantically until the door opens. The squat woman inside gives you a death glare. You wave the letter at her. 
“I think there’s a mistake,” you say. 
She grunts and stares back at you. 
“I paid my rent, but this says I have to leave.” 
“Lease violation,” she shrugs. 
“But what-- I’ve been here only a few weeks? What did I do?” 
“Read the letter,” she sniffs. 
You furrow your brow and unfold it again. You skim over the words; ‘landlord requires unit for personal use’. Huh? They can do that? 
“Personal use? But—But you leased it to me. My deposit--” 
“Take it up with a lawyer. All there,” she taps the top of the paper before she swings the door shut in your face. 
What the hell? This can’t be real. You’re in a nightmare. You’re not really awake. This is just one of those really deep dreams where you can’t throw a punch. Too bad you can’t throw one in real life either. Hard to test the theory. 
You frown and make your way back up to your apartment. You leave the paper on the counter and brew a coffee from the single-serve machine. You hold your head in your hands, elbows on the linoleum, as you try to sort through it all. 
The machine grinds and you stand up straight. You take your cup and go to the fridge. You pull out the carton of milk and tip some into your coffee. The chunks that roll out of the spout make you gag. Frig, expired. You dump the whole mug and leave it empty in the sink. Nothing is going right. 
You pour out the sour milk and rinse away the putrid scent. You need to get food. You’re out of eggs too. Just a few small things for now. You have to count your pennies. 
You put a bra on and pull on a hoodie. You make yourself decent enough to face the public but keep your sweatpants on. You’re just running to the corner store. You grab your wallet, phone, and keys and head out. 
Your stroll down to the store is distracted. You should ask a lawyer but you can’t really afford that. You’ll have to try the housing board, see if they offer public services. You don’t really know about all that stuff. 
You grab your staples without much attention. Eggs, milk, a loaf of bread, and some sliced cheddar. Grilled cheese for life.  
You go to the counter and wait for the cashier to scan the items. You try to tap your card but it declines. You insert instead and put in your pin. Pin accepted, transaction declined. You grimace, face burning with embarrassment. 
“Sorry, one sec, I’m gonna just check my account.” You back out of the way of the next customer and pull out your phone.  
You sign-in to your banking app. You see the balance you expected. More than enough for your lot but there’s a little red exclamation mark next to the account number. You tap it and a new page opens. 
‘Account locked for security purposes. Contact Bank Services.’ 
Oh my god! What more can go wrong? You tap on the little chat icon in the corner. The automated responses lead you in a circle and tell you to call the toll-free or go into the local branch. Ugh! But you need milk now. 
A message blips across the top of your screen. It fades before you can read it. You pull down the menu and stare dumbly at the text sent from a private number, ‘morning, sweet lips.’ 
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sadokasochism · 1 day
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I am destroyed over the whole god/worshipper dynamic and have no idea how to adequately put it into words.
I mentioned in another post that Mizi could not fathom Sua ACTUALLY dying, or comprehend what death really meant, and attributed this to her relatively comfortable and sheltered life as the pet of Shine. She was not taught to conceptualise death as a loss, and she never faced any opposition to that world view. From what we know, she might have never really known true, lasting pain or loss before the end of Round 1.
However, her reaction could also be due to her placing Sua on a pedestal as her personal god and universe. She viewed Sua as her absolute everything, and why would any faithful worshipper believe their god could be killed? Only, while Sua was everything to HER, that perception did not carry over to their captors. Mizi's love and devotion was not enough to save Sua. Forces stronger than them both took her away like she was nothing.
How must Mizi have felt, having her perception of Sua as the centre of the universe shattered that way? Coming to the violent realisation that Sua was just another human, and that humans are indeed that vulnerable and disposable? That Sua could now only exist in memories and in the visions that haunt her? That Sua is not a god, but a ghost?
Now we look at Till's perception of Mizi. Again, in an earlier post I mentioned the tragedy of Till falling for someone who did not have a reason to leave. He had a lot of blind faith in Mizi, and it could be said that he idealised her as a paragon.
It's not hard to see how he reached this point. The poor kid had not been shown a lot of kindness in his life, and so meeting someone who was genuinely good and so full of joy must have had a huge impact on him.
However, his faith is still a blind one, but in a different way to Mizi's blind faith in Sua. He is happy to endure any amount of horrible treatment and does not expect anyone to help him. He doesn't resent Mizi for being so close to their captors, for her dreams stopping at Alien Stage. He doesn't resent her after he gives up on his chance at freedom and is subjected to who knows how many more years of pain and torment at the hands of their captors (Not that Mizi is at fault, Till made his own decision that Mizi likely never even knew about).
He sees Mizi's innocence and ignorance to the cruelty of their reality as something wonderful instead of a character flaw that prevents her from saving herself or her loved ones.
Sua has the same issue, seeking comfort and bliss within Mizi's brightness instead of acknowledging the cruel reality of their world. Maybe she felt sharing her perspective with Mizi would dim Mizi's bright spirit, and so she was more than content to wait out the clock with her god.
Maybe Sua felt that meeting Mizi, loving her and being loved by her in return, was nothing short of a miracle after the life she had lived before Anakt Garden. Maybe she felt in light of that, aspiring for something like freedom or a long, long life of happiness with the person she loved the most was asking far too much. The time she got with Mizi was already a miracle, why expect or demand anything more?
If Sua was afraid of Mizi losing her brightness, no wonder she was so affected by Ivan's lecture about becoming a source of trauma for Mizi after her death.
Ivan's view of Till as his god is a bit different. He is similar in that he doesnt seem to demand his devotion be reciprocated, he just wants his god to acknowledge him as a person, as someone that is at least PART of Till's universe, if he can't be all of it.
He is also very willing to become a martyr for his god while expecting nothing in return but Till continuing to live. He acknowledges Till as vulnerable and falable in a way that Till doesn't with Mizi, and Mizi didn't with Sua. He knows damn well that while Till is the centre of HIS universe, their captors certainly do not hold Till in that same regard. He knows that love and devotion in a vacuum does not save anyone.
Which is why he was always the one to free Till, to try and escape with him, and why he pulled the stunt he did in Round 6. Ivan knew that actually making an impact in this world required personal risk and sacrifice, because their captors don't give a fuck if you're in love or if that other pet-human they're about to kill means everything to you.
Till knew this too, but his idealised version of Mizi is too perfect to be broken and beaten down by this world the same way the rest of them have been. So he's still shattered by Round 5, seeing how far Mizi has fallen and then not knowing if she's alive or dead, but knowing for sure she is far out of reach. I wonder, did he regret not running away with Ivan at that point? Did he wonder what all those years of suffering were for, if he was just going to end up losing Mizi anyway? If this world was able to break her too, no matter what he did?
Mizi is gone and changed forever, and nothing he did could stop it. His love and devotion and sacrifice wasn't enough. He failed his god.
In Round 6, Ivan is faced with the same thing. His god has lost his fighting spirit, is changed forever, and Ivan's love and devotion wasn't enough to save him. The last thing he can give is his life, and hope that will be enough. Just like Sua. But he was never Till's god, was never even part of his universe, he probably won't even leave a ghost behind. So, the choice is obvious, really.
They're all so desperate for hope and connection in this lonely, painful existence that they make a person their entire universe, and then are repeatedly crushed when they are shown again and again that their soul-consuming love for one another is seemingly meaningless in a world that views them as infinitely disposable.
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impactedfates · 8 hours
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Letters Unsent - Genshin + HSR Boys x GN! Reader
★ Summary: After their death, you find a letter. A letter he wrote. A letter he wrote for you, a letter he wished he could’ve given to you personally. A letter describing his feelings.
☆ Characters Included (Separate): Diluc, Wriothesley, Cyno, Argenti, Jing Yuan + Gepard
★ Genre/Trope: Angst + Hurt/No Comfort
☆ Warnings: Major Character Death (Not the Readers)
★ Extra: Angst is fun, angst is nice :)) // Might make another part with different characters if this does well // Not fully proof read // Motivation came back cuz of sad tunes/hj
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He said he'd be back, that it'll be quick. Despite your worry, you knew he was strong, so he'd be able to protect himself right? So you trusted him. Trusted him so much that when his co-worker showed up to your door with an expression you couldn't exactly read, you were confused. It was about him but...he was fine right? Then why were they telling you he had passed? The injuries he sustained was...to much for his body to handle? The healers couldn't help him? But...he said he'd be back...you were snapped out of your thoughts when they handed you a letter with your name on it. "I think he knew he wouldn't be able to make it...so...he wanted you to have this...even if he couldn't hear your answer"
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"To My Dearest,
If I'd ever be lucky to even call you that. Although this isn't ideally how I wanted to do this. I believe I can only get these things on paper, it's much too difficult otherwise. I was never good with words so I hope this alternative is alright for you.
Ever since the day I first laid eyes on you, I knew you were different. Not in a bad way. It took me way too long to figure out the reason for this was due to the fact I loved you.
I loved seeing your smile.
Hearing your laugh.
Loved the small talk we had that would end up with me taking you home. You made me feel something I didn't think I would ever feel, and I'm unsure if I even deserve it.
If I even deserve you.
Whether or not you feel the same way, I hope we can stick together as long as time allows us.
Sincerely
Diluc."
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"To Y/N
Hope you're doing well, life in Meropide is still as dull as ever. Well, unless you decide to visit, you really do light up the room when you come by don't you? Or maybe that's just for me.
Anyways, preferably I would be telling you this in person, but more work has piled up. That's also why our little tea sessions have to be put on hold for now. Don't worry, as soon as this all clears up and I investigate this one area, then we can go back to the usual.
I have this one blend I think you'd really like!
Anyways, enough beating around the bush.
I like you.
Like like you.
I love you.
So much.
I can't even begin to describe how much I love you, and even if I did I feel you'd be gagging at how cheesy I was being haha!
But really, I love you so much. I want to be with you, of course I understand if you don't feel the same. But Sigwinnie would have my head if I postponed this confession any longer.
I hope to see you again after my work.
Yours Truly
Wriothesley"
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"Hello Y/N
I never thought I'd be writing this kind of letter in my free time. Unfortunately for me, it seems as though fate likes making things harder for me and whenever I want to even try to talk to you about this, it's much more difficult than it was when I practised in the mirror.
Or...
Well...
Practised to Tighnari.
We can ignore that for now though as I'm still trying to put this all together in words.
I would let you borrow my TCG set, you can use it as you please and I'd even let you touch my limited edition cards.
If that's not making any sense then how about a joke?
How does a fruit confess?
They say "Olive You"
.
.
.
Get it, because an olive is a type of fruit, and olive sounds like "I love"
.
.
.
I love you"
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"My beloved rose
As much as I'd love to tell you all these words in person, my search for Idrila is still ongoing and I am unsure when I'll be able to see your beautiful face once again.
Ever since my eyes laid on your beauty, I thought I had found Idrila herself, but once I got to know you. Even if you weren't the Goddess, you could almost rival her.
The sparkle in your eyes.
The pretty little smile.
Your wonderful personality.
All those things you think are flaws? I love each and everyone of them. They are not flaws to me and it pains me knowing you think of yourself like that.
Once we meet again, I want to make sure you know how deserving you are of these words, how your 'flaws' aren't flaws and how much I love every bit of you.
Though I am aware I find many things worthy of praise. I want to let you know that you're different.
I don't just want to praise you, compliment you. I wish to love you, hold your hands and protect you with my life, no matter what it takes.
I love you so much, and if I could be so lucky to call you mine. Well, I think I'd be the happiest man alive.
I will return soon,
Signed
Argenti"
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"Morning, Afternoon or Night
I'm not too sure when the Cloud Knight will give this to you, or when I'll give this to them. Whatever the case, I won't beat around the bush too much.
I love you.
Nothing could compare the feeling in my heart when I see you.
The smile that will never fade as long as you're there by my side.
You are just amazing. In all my years of living, never would I have thought to have met someone as perfect as you.
Even Fu Xuan herself can see just how enamoured I am for you, although for her. She's been using it as an advantage to do work.
'If you finish now you can see them quicker'
'How would they feel knowing that you're not working?'
'Stop dozing off or they won't come to see you ever again!'
I must admit, they all do work. Even if in hindsight, not only would I still see you even with work uncomplete, I'll see you plenty of times and more to come but I don't think you care all too much about my sleep.
But I digress.
I hope this letter finds you well, take as much time as you need to consider my words and think about your own feelings.
I'll be waiting where I always am.
Jing Yuan"
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"Dear Y/N
Aeons this is embarrassing. But it would be even more embarrassing if Serval kept teasing me about this. I've been putting this off for so long, worried about how you'd react.
Your answer.
And if this would change your view on me...but you're not that kind of person. I know you're not. And after a bit of thinking, to save me from stumbling on my words. I decided to write a letter.
Serval should be the one giving this to you, so I hope she didn't say anything to you, I would nearly die of embarrassment if she did. Anyways!
So...I know it's probably not much hoping Serval wouldn't say something actually, knowing her, she gave it away with one sentence but...
I like you, a lot. More than you could ever know.
And I'm more than happy to talk to you about this in full once I'm back from my mission.
I can only pray you feel the same, but even if you don't.
I hope we stay friends.
Until next time,
Gepard"
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WOOO FINALLY GOT THIS DONE AFTER FOREVER.
Sorry if any characters are OOC, I tried my best with writing what I think they'd write in a confession letter, but I hope you enjoyed this anyways!
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tojiscursedtool · 2 days
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SFW Headcanons for Male!R being a normal person in the JJK world and just encountering Yuji every so often during normal day stuff and slowly becoming good friends with him.
୨ . ࣪ my best friend . ୨ . 🌅
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Note ~ I sobbed at the end.. there’s your tragic ending though I hope you like it(*´-`)..(I screamed and cried.)
MENTIONS — Male!Reader, close friends with Itadori, Blood, Death of !Reader, shibuya incident mentioned, grieving, depression.
ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐
— !YuujiItadori who meets you at a movie theater for another human earthworm movie! He thought it was cool to see someone around his age enjoying the same stuff as him since Nobara n’ Megumi were either too busy or didn’t want to watch a ‘weird’ movie like that..
— !YuujiItadori who makes sure to get your number so you guys can hang out more and maybe introduce you to his other friends!
— !YuujiItadori who calls/texts you daily to ask to hang out and even asks you about your day and what you did, sometimes when you were free he’d even offer to get you guy’s food, his treat!
— !YuujiItadori who considers you a best friend only after a short time of knowing him, you both know a lot about each other since the both of you would everyday and hang out with him almost everyday when you guys got the chance, you even hang out with his friend group too!
— !YuujiItadori who is a really nice guy and a great listener, if you’re having a bad day or need help with something he wouldn’t mind helping one of his best friends out. And if you were feeling bothered by something he’d insist you talk to him or at least let him listen to your struggles so he can try to cheer you up or help you out, you are his best friend after all that’s what a friend is for!(╹◡╹)♡
— !YuujiItadori who tries to get your mind off of hard things especially school, he wasn’t that bright but even if you needed some help with work or anything of the sort he sure would try!!…or use some cheating AI app and say some dumbass shit like “hey man..it gets the job done okay?” With a silly laugh.
— !YuujiItadori who tells you how much he appreciates you and how he likes hanging out with you A LOT, how you’re a chill guy and a funny one at that as well!
— !YuujiItadori who DEFINITELY made you both create a secret handshake only you two know about since you guys are such good friends!
— !YuujiItadori who would probably tease and pull a little prank here and there, nothing serious he would probably slap the back of your neck(not hard ofc!!), the ‘made you look!’ classic, play fight with you, etc. he would DEFINITELY steal a fry from you when you were looking and be like “woaaaaah..who did that..not me!! You’re definitely seeing things man..” as he’d do the crazy sign, you knew he was joking and he made you laugh so you never had a problem with him.
— !YuujiItadori who defends you if someone tries to start with you or is mean to you, he doesn’t like when people are rude to his friends, especially you. You both are close and doesn’t get why someone would be rude to you.
— !YuujiItadori who accepts and understands anything you are/do, he isn’t a judging guy. As long as you aren’t like those really mean judgmental bullies or just a strange weirdo he could care less. You’re his friend nothing would change that no matter how you are.
— !YuujiItadori who invites you over to his place so you guys can stay up late and eat a shit ton of snacks you both are sooooo gonna regret later..
— !YuujiItadori who invites you over to his place so you guys can hang out, play video games, and watch horror or scary movies then laugh about them later and make fun of each others reactions. He’d definitely wear some corny cheesy PJ’s of his favorite movie/video game, or wear a “I paused my game to be here” shirt as a joke..
— !YuujiItadori who rants to you about his interests and comics he’s into, like DBZ, Naruto, Bleach, Etc..he loves reading manga and you like listening about it you think it’s cool on how he knows a lot of characters and plots that are interesting to hear about. He even recommends you some stuff to watch/listen to and you both end up chatting about it for hours!
— !YuujiItadori who probably makes you guys wear matching shirts for shits and giggles, it would say some dumb or corny shit that would probably annoy you..not ACTUALLY annoy you but probably make you wanna punch his chest and question why you’re his friend sarcastically, he knows you enjoy being his friend and that you two are extremely close.
— !YuujiItadori who isn’t able to come with you on Halloween due to a mission he’s sent on but he doesn’t tell you that because he doesn’t tell you anything about sorcerers or curses since you can’t see or know about them..but implies you guys can hang out the next time he’s free! He uses the excuse that he has to help Megumi with some personal stuff and he’ll definitely hang out with you as soon as he can.
— !YuujiItadori who isn’t able to control the curse inside him, Ryomen Sukuna. As Sukuna is going on a rampage killing off innocent people and stuff like that he notices you, he knows you’re close to Yuuji..he kills you in the most gruesome way making Yuuji watch as his own best friends body was being sliced, punctured, beaten by something he SWORE he could control.
— !YuujiItadori who is finally able to get to be in control of his body but it’s already too late, you’re gone. Your body is cold and he’s ruined. You were his best friend, a guy he could go to for ANYTHING. He’d try to shake you awake and try to look around for a medic or anyone that could help but everything around him was either burnt to a crisp or dead. Gone. It was pitch black but the moonlight dimly reflected on your body and he saw all the blood..the wounds..how your lifeless eyes were looking at him even though you were dead.
— !YuujiItadori who has a complete break down, who curses Sukuna meanwhile Sukuna is mocking and laughing at him. Mocking the words you were screaming out as Sukuna killed you, “Itadori! Please stop! I thought we were..friends..what are you doing?! STOP!!” He kept mentioning the way you screamed and other gruesome details. All Itadori could do was scream and cry holding onto the corpse that was once your body full of life.
— !YuujiItadori who was depressed for days, weeks, and perhaps even months. He couldn’t get over you..he would seem less happy and when he’d see things that you guys would talk about he’d slightly tear up or frown. Remembering all the memories the both of you shared, how you would always talk to him and hang out with him. He’d miss the times you both would spend with each other.
— !YuujiItadori who would text your phone number daily until it went to green and not delivered, someone else had your number now and he was completely devastated. The one last thing he could contact you with was gone, he’d even try to visit your gravestone and try to talk about the good times you both had. How you were his bestfriend and how he missed you so much. How he wish he could do a better job at controlling that damned curse inside him. He swore on everything it would NEVER happen again.
⋆。‧˚ʚɞ˚‧。⋆
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evergreenfields · 1 day
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In Another Life
Hurt, no comfort, angst, I’m ready to break my own heart.
Your flatmate is dating Soap and he’s everything you want.
Pairing: Soap x your female flatmate, one sided female reader x Soap, Captain Price x reader.
CW: low self esteem, character death (spoiler, not explicit), catcalling, voyeurism, masturbation, PIV sex.
A/n: I hella projected lol. Reader is broken.
——
Soap is dating your flatmate.
Most men that your flatmate brought home were wet wipes, but this guy was some kind of special forces. His eyes were electric blue and he had the thickest eyelashes, he went by Johnny but he also went by Soap, you never learned why. You had to mentally pinch yourself while staring at him, he was everything you wanted in a partner. You hated the creamy mess in your underwear when you were in his company.
He was muscled and shaped like an upside down triangle, you had to look away when he would pop out from their room in the night. Muttering “sorry ‘scuse me” as you squeeze past the narrow corridor, ignoring the rumble of his “no no, I’m taking up all the room, lass.”
You caught his thighs and bulge in his compression shorts when he left for a run in the morning. Later, your flatmate traipsed into the kitchen muttering “I can hardly walk after last night, let alone run!”
You laugh and slap her arm playfully as you leave the room. You’re an expert at that now. That’s not to say you were never happy for her, but your phone was currently not blowing up with your latest dating app matches.
——
On the off chance Soap arrived when you were coming out of the shower, he only ever looked at your eyes and quickly got out of your way. He only had eyes for your flatmate. You got to your room and stood in front of the mirror and wondered what your flatmate and other women had that you didn’t.
——
Soap was full of energy, ready for a laugh but very protective. You would listen from your room when he dropped her off late at night after a raucous night out on the town.
“Call me tomorrow, alright?” His voice is muffled.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Just call me when you wake up. You look like you need a lie in tomorrow. I’ll bring you breakfast.”
Tomorrow morning comes and Soap is early with a bag of food from a brunch spot nearby, he even brought you a coffee too. You thank him too much, maybe it wasn’t the coffee you were thanking him for.
——
Your flatmate and Soap came home late one night absolutely drunk out of their minds, they wobbled through the front door trying to dance to a song playing on his phone. They see you and it’s like they have heart eyes.
“Y/n, it’s y/n, THE GOAT!” Your roommate yells.
“The GOAT!” Soap hollers.
They both flop into the sofa either side of you. They’re too drunk to notice your teary eyes. You pushed the soggy tissue into your sleeve.
A dance tune starts up and before you can even recognise it, Soap bounces up with hands held out towards you both.
Your roommate grabs one hand.
You’re next.
You take Soap’s hand and you arc off the sofa, he’s strong.
You’re pressed up against his side. He’s hard, large and warm, you try not to enjoy the bodily contact as you all boogie to the song. You start to smile until you remember he isn’t yours.
——
“It’s only 2 days but I’m so excited,” she talks about her friend’s wedding in the south of France, “I’m wearing this dress” she flicks through her phone gallery “and Johnny is going to wear a kilt!” Muscled calves, big smile and rugged hands clasped at his front, Johnny looked like a million bucks.
“I love it, you’ll match!” You managed to squeeze out. You imagine the memories they’ll make and photos they’ll take. That night you have a 2nd date, you are excited by the fact he has asked you out again. It filled you with something resembling happiness.
You are meant to meet at a station out of town but you couldn’t find him at the small station and the path towards the car park was unlit and dodgy. When your date found you, he was annoyed that he had to pay for parking. He kept throwing red flags at you.
But still you slept with him because you wanted to feel touched and desired. You regretted it and then you had to take the train home later that night because he “had an early start to work tomorrow.” You wrapped your jacket around yourself to keep out some of the cold, trying not to be annoyed that he didn’t even attempt to make you orgasm or show any aftercare. You delete his number from your phone.
Later that weekend, the duo arrived home.
“We bought you back some chocolate!” Your flatmate says, Johnny swings his bag off his back, he passes it to you with 2 hands like it's a bar of gold. It could have been, with the way you looked at it.
“Aww guys you didn’t have to.” Your mouth is dry.
“Johnny found it, I didn’t know you were a sea salt and caramel fan!”
You put the chocolate in a drawer because you didn’t want to get used to tastes you couldn’t indulge in.
——
“He’s a prick, forget about him.” Your flatmate says pointedly about a new guy you were dating.
“Oi who’s a prick?” Soap walks into the kitchen, taking your flatmate’s waist in his hand.
“No one-” you turn away.
“A fuck boy that y/n isn’t seeing any more.” Your flat mate sounds proud by what wasn’t her decision.
“He isn’t a fuck boy.” You know you’ll regret clarifying the point, “we didn’t fuck, so he’s not. He’s just a prick.” You and the conversation. Soap whistles.
Later that night when you’re washing the dishes, Soap approaches you.
“Listen, forget about that guy,” he says low, you’d follow that voice anywhere.
“Thanks.” You squeak quietly.
“You will find what you're looking for, keep pushing and you’ll look back on this shite with a smile, maybe a misty eye, ey?” He bends forward to catch your eyes as you were trying to avoid them.
He smiles, you smile. He leaves, you remain.
The suds disappear and you turn off the tap, left in silence.
That night, they have muted sex, you hear their attempts at muffling moans and stifling strained grunts. You hear the bed frame squeak on the last hardest thrusts, then silence for a while. You imagine they feel warm, tingly and flushed, chests heaving. Eventually you hear footsteps come and go from the bathroom, the toilet flush going and the door shuts again. You wait for your heart rate to stabilise and your heart ache to subside.
——
“We’re going to the pub, wanna join us? Johnny’s friends are going to be there.” Your flatmate asks you.
You wonder if they’re as hot, funny and protective. You tell yourself you’re just going along for a chat, but part of you hopes it leads to something more; you put the hopeless in hopeless romantic. Put yourself out there, that’s what everyone says.
You wear a nice outfit that makes you feel pretty, your confidence isn’t abundant but you’re feeling yourself.
You arrive at the pub, you meet them, you chat, you drink, you leave.
Nothing about the evening was bad, his team were really nice, all huge and charming in their own ways. Their Captain was a greyhound with an intense gaze that seemed to follow you. Gaz’s girlfriend arrived and you thought you heard some rumblings about Ghost being pushed to date.
The Captain was receptive to you, leaning in to listen, you thought you saw him glance at your lips and legs. He helped you off the tall stool you were sitting on, taking you by your waist to help you down. You know not to push, men hated when women pushed. Well, they hated when you pushed. And you didn’t want to make anything awkward between you and your flatmate. So you left without asking for his phone number or a date, but he hugged you tightly and held your gaze for longer than you thought usual.
When all three of you got home, your flatmate shouted at the top of her lungs “you and the Captain huh?! Practically undressing each other with your eyes!” You laugh and immediately feel your ears going red. You were stoked that someone else noticed because you thought it was all in your head, as it usually was.
You didn’t notice Soap put a hand out to stop her.
“Babe. Babe-” he says “don’t go there.”
Your heart tightens. Your flatmate puts her hands on her hips, confused and a little offended as if to say ‘I know what I saw.’
“It ain’t like that, the Captain is… Price is… Look, he’s married to the job.” Brows knitted, the jovial spirit replaced with seriousness, “we don’t sit around and talk about it but he ain’t the type to mess around.”
You play it off “we were just talking, it’s not a big deal.”
It hurts when Soap says “good, because he’s a lifer.”
You close the door to your bedroom and mull Soap’s words in your tormented mind. The fuzziness you felt replaced by emptiness.
Part of you willed it to be wrong, that you were the woman to pull the Captain out of his self fulfilling and self imposed prophecy. You almost laughed at your audacity.
“I can’t even get a text back, why would he be interested?” You stare at the ceiling, the alcohol left your system and the room was uncomfortably still.
——
“You like tha’, lass?” you hear Soap rasp, you’re not sure if he’s taking her from behind or if he’s on top of her. The faint slaps, skin on skin, indicate it’s either doggy or the standing position your flatmate had once whispered about. The loud moans indicate it’s good.
You don’t breathe. You just listen.
“Oh god, Johnny please!” Your flatmate whines, the force of his thrusts evident in her stuttering voice.
You close your eyes and see yourself with Soap under you, knees folded under his bulging arms, hips pistoning into you with ferocious need. You argue with yourself but then you quickly surrender and slip your hand into your knickers. You draw tight circles on your clit while your eyes burn with tears unfallen. Undiluted shame and need fills you. You breathe sharply through your nose and then hold your breath, staying as quiet as possible. Both of your hearts raced, thumping against your ribs.
“Tha’s it,” you hear his muffled voice grunt. You imagine his massive hand grasping your breast, your hand follows. Their bed frame groans but yours is silent. Your flatmate’s voice gets higher in pitch and she comes loudly, he grunts, swears, the mattress squeaks. You push two fingers into yourself and quickly find your spongy spot, electricity rolls through you.
You come undone shakily and silently, tears springing immediately from your eyes as you ride the wave of your orgasm. Your hand clasps across your mouth as you try to stem the noise of your sobs. You feel disgusted and disgusting. You wipe your eyes with your sleeves. You check your phone, no text from him. You manage to fall into a restless sleep.
——
One night, you and your flatmate encountered an asshole at the station.
“Nice bit of skirt, that.” He leers at your flatmate.
“Fuck off, you prick!” You shout back without breaking stride, not caring he was bigger than you. This confidence was new to you. Or was it anger?
When you arrived at the music venue, your flatmate told Soap what happened, you couldn’t hear them as the music was loud and you were at the bar. You could see the look of concern and regret on his face. He stormed over to you and he pulled you into a bear hug.
“Thanks for taking care of her,” he says to your temple. He releases you but keeps his arm around your shoulder as you wait at the bar, his weight is comforting and protective. He then helps you carry the drinks over.
He adds “I’m sorry Gaz and Cap couldn’t make it, paperwork.” You’d heard that one before but this time you gave yourself the benefit of believing it.
During the gig was a slow acoustic song that hit a little too close to home so you snuck out to the toilet to wait it out.
But you could still hear the music as you leaned against the stall and picked at your nails, doing breathing exercises you’d read about, through your tears.
——
You began to feel like the only man in your life. You even treated yourself to a massage because the touch deprivation reached a fever pitch.
You scroll through the website trying to find an available masseuse. Their headshots were small but you were on the lookout for a man with a thick neck and prominent traps, you knew the silhouette you were looking for. Your masseuse didn’t have a Mohawk but he was close enough that when you closed your eyes, his hands, his pressure and weight became Johnny’s.
——
You were invited again to a party with the squad, moods were good but there were hints of them being away for an extended mission. While you heeded what Soap said about Price, you wanted to know it from the horse's mouth. You bantered with the Captain, and he bantered back, at first. It turned to flirting and you playfully slapped his bicep, joking that you could drink him under the table, knowing well enough that you couldn’t. You ignored the looks from Gaz and Ghost - it’s like they knew something you didn’t. And they did.
You found yourself outside with Price. He’d asked only you to come outside, you felt giddy at the prospect of him wanting to be alone with you. He was smoking a cigar, you stared at the lit end, hoping it revealed some kind of secret you could finally be privy to.
It was cold outside, bitterly cold.
“You’re a lovely girl, y/n, you’re, smart, pretty, ballsy,” he says, almost to himself. You’re immediately familiar with the tone. What came next would hurt. Your breathing quickens and there’s a pit in your stomach.
“I’m not in a place where I can give you what you want, what you deserve, darlin’.”
The alcohol seemed to dissipate from your system. Rejection was one hell of a way to sober up. You look down at your shoes and chew your lip to stop it from trembling.
You knew better than to beg, to make compromises, to ask for a chance. Nothing would convince him. Maybe another woman could. But not me. So you turned to humour because it was safer than being vulnerable.
With wet eyes and wobbly voice that you couldn’t hide, you say “so you think I’m pretty?”
He hits you with a look that you’ll never forget.
“In another life-“ he quietly began.
You cut him off, agreeing, “in another life.”
You both went indoors and you summoned a smile from the deepest recesses of your being. You left early that night.
——
It was with bated breath that you left your room ready for your date. You were in a beautiful outfit that did wonders for your confidence. You spun around a few times in the mirror.
Johnny was at the foot of the stairs and he looked at you with his big blue eyes, you’re sure you saw his pupils grow. Your phone buzzed but you ignored it because you enjoyed being under his gaze.
“Look at you! He’s a lucky lad!”
“Wait, let me see!” Your flatmate's voice came from the kitchen.
Your phone buzzed again. You pull it out to see a stream of texts from your date.
“Oh you look gorgeous, girl!” You barely hear your flatmate. Blood rushes to your ears.
You read out the text message.
“Sorry can’t make it, hungover lol.” You sound distant, as if it wasn’t related to you.
“Fucking prick.” Soap says with no hesitation.
“Y/n…. Babe.” Your flatmate pulls you into a hug but you’re limp and embarrassed.
“Fuck it, I’m going out anyway!” You exclaim, pretending to be okay you practically rush out of the door.
The door shuts behind you. You want to cry but you squeeze your eyes shut and start to walk towards the station. You don’t last long, your vision is wet and nose runny. You end up at a riverside cafe, watching the world go by without you. What a shitty year, you tell yourself.
——
You hear a hushed conversation a week before Soap is due to leave for a few weeks. You kept your headphones on and nodded at them when you walked past, giving them privacy.
You wish you could be in someone’s inner circle, but instead you were grateful you could float around theirs. You put a mental reminder in to take your flatmate to dinner while Soap was away and to keep her from watching the news.
——
“Turn it down!” You yell at your flatmate while you go to answer the door, the radio is on blast while you both cook.
Through the peephole you see the unmistakable beard of Captain Price.
“Oh John, hi!” You can’t hide that you’re happy to see him. But then you notice his grave expression.
“Hi love, sorry to come by unannounced,” he’s standing straighter and his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Is your flatmate around?”
“Yeh, come in.” Your stomach drops. You didn’t need to call out, your flatmate is already by the door.
“No,” she recognises the look.
“I’m so sorry, love.” Price says quietly.
“Oh god no!” She cries out and sobs, her entire body shakes.
You put your arms around her but your eyes are on Price, wet and unflinching, waiting for the confirmation of the news.
His blue eyes are overcast and tired, he nods and looks down.
“We’ll have to take you onto base if you wish to go through matters,” Price says quietly. You helped your flatmate get her coat on, understanding that you couldn’t go with her.
Price dropped her home later that night, you plated up some food for her but she couldn’t eat. You hugged each other on the sofa until one of you fell asleep first.
It felt like Soap would be bursting through the door with his infectious energy at any moment, but the silence was deafening.
——
You weren’t invited to the funeral as it was behind closed doors. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, you went from crying to intense panic attacks to bouts of guilt. You missed him, you missed his presence. You thought about the way his eyes would light up when you suggested shots at the pub, how he’d walked you both home and how safe you felt. Sure he wasn’t holding your hand but for a moment, you felt wanted, taken care of and significant. You felt terrible for mourning someone else’s partner so deeply and intimately.
Price came by a few times in the next few months, sometimes you were home, sometimes you weren’t. When your flatmate finally came out of her room, her eyes red and complexion weak, she would walk around the house like an apparition.
“I can’t do this without him!” She would plead, “I miss him so much.” You rubbed her back, silently wiping your tears, telling her you were sorry, over and over.
“John came by today, he sends his best.” She says.
“Bless him,” you say quietly, trying not to read too much into it, because all the meaning you longed for wouldn’t come.
“You never told me what happened with you both that night.” She asks, brows knitted in concern for you while her heart was shattered.
“Soap was right about him.” You said, “and that’s okay.” You breathed, hoping the more you said it the more you would believe it.
——
‘What cannot be said will be wept’ you read the quote over and over, you’d seen it online and it immediately brought Price into your mind.
His visits became less frequent, but he came by again to check in with your flatmate. He looked like he was carrying the world on his shoulders and you wanted nothing more than to pull him into an embrace and comfort him.
“Come in, she just got in the shower, want a tea while you wait?”
It had been 6 months since the news.
“How are you holding up?” Price asked.
“M’okay, trying to be there for her as best I can.”
“I know it isn’t easy for you either.” He said, “you’re doing good by her, you’re a good friend.”
Guilt and shame rushes through your system, you didn’t feel like a good friend.
“He was so good to her-” you start to sob, hands across your mouth, willing it to stay inside so you never have to confront how you really felt about him.
You’re surprised to be suddenly in his embrace. John consumes you, you’re completely surrounded by him. You grip his jacket, afraid to let go. His right hand rubbed your shoulder blades and his left hand held onto your waist tightly.
“I’m sorry love,” he whispered, “and I’m sorry I wasn’t good to you.”
“You don’t have to apologise for anything John, you haven’t done anything wrong.” You sounded throaty.
“I made you believe in something I couldn’t give you.” His voice is quiet, you feel it against his chest.
“In another life,” you manage to sob his phrase back to him, he can feel you inhaling hard, trying to catch your breath.
“Another life.” He says back, kissing your head.
“Take care of yourself, John” you say with a ragged voice looking straight into his eyes. You grab your bag and push past him out of the door. You can still see his sad eyes in your mind.
Immediately you regret leaving while he was still available and present. But then you think if he wanted to say more he’d have done so. Life is choices, he made his choice. And I wasn’t one of them. Your legs take you away from him, into the bitter cold.
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khuzena · 21 hours
Text
This bitter life.
pairing: Blade x g/n!reader
Part 1, Part 2.
Summary: Life is not fair, that is the truth every being must accept. Yet, there’s a part in Blade’s mara-struck mind, that he cannot accept this type of ending, he will not allow it, but he has no right to deny fate itself.
In other words, you die and he’s miserable.
Cw. It’s very fluffy trust me, Reader is absolutely fucked, you die, unrequited requited love, not proofread, very slowburn, character development, terminally ill, ansgt only bcoz fluff is for the weak, life is unfair.
A/n: You already know what it means when I upload a fanfic. If you don’t, my only warning is, shit’s going down.
(wrote this bc bladie won the poll for my other fic of which character u guys want a fic for next 🥳)
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Days pass by, Blade didn’t come back to the Stellaron Hunters HQ to watch over you. Silverwolf keeps messaging him, telling him he needs to come back for another mission but he’s stubborn.
Silverwolf: Come back here, we’re having a meeting
Silverwolf: oh come on I know you’re seeing this
Silverwolf: Istfg
[seen by Bladie]
His phone shuts off and he just stares outside your window, he knows you’re not getting better anytime soon. He sometimes feels a twisted, aching feeling in his chest when you give him that feeble smile to pretend you're okay, when you both know no amount of medicine will save you, you could no longer hold a glass for more than a minute because your muscles fail you.
He feels sick.
This misery of his never going away.
“I have to go.”
He expected that you’d call out for him, “Okay, take care.”
So he leaves, he wishes he never looked back.
He was gone for 3 weeks, on another mission to exterminate more and more foes of the Stellaron hunters and gather more Stellaron with Kafka.
“Something on your mind?” The blood on his hands could never be washed away, he wants to go back to that stupid Clove-V planet and talk to you.
“None of your business.” Kafka is surprised, it's the first time he sees Blade so irritated (he mostly is but not to this extent)
Kafka doesn’t ask again and they finish their mission.
In 4 days, he rushed to see you. You stopped replying to his messages, only a tiny ‘seen’ message pops up every now and then and he hates to admit it, he’s dying to see you again.
“Doctor.” Your door creaks open, another visitor it seems.
”Is it you Blade?”
He nods, but with a tightness to it, he sits beside you again, mold was already building up on your sink, your lack of mobility making you lose the ability to do normal tasks.
”Are you okay?”
”I wish.” How could someone act so carefree on the brink of death? He doesn’t understand you, no, not at all.
He wants to reach out for you, to comfort you but he doesn’t know how to comfort you. He doesn’t understand why he wants to comfort you, he understands why he cares so much, he doesn’t understand why he’s feeling this way, he doesn’t even understand himself.
But when you smile at his hesitance, he realises, maybe you do.
He doesn’t reach out for you, he’s always an arm's length away from you, never close yet never too far. “You haven’t eaten, you’re going to die.”
Even if you eat, you will never get better; but he wants you to.
“Maybe, but I’m fine with that.”
”With dying? You’re a fool.” He doesn’t want to accept that you’re going to die, that you’re okay with dying because he’s not.
You’re a fool, a bastard, for trying to understand him but he can never understand himself nor can he ever truly understand you.
“You better not die,” his eyes desperately tried to never meet with yours.
He doesn’t want to look into your eyes, he doesn't want to accept the truth. That your eyes no longer beam with excitement at his words, that the sparkle in your eyes had dimmed.
“I know I will,” he no longer hides his worry, his fear, his desperation to keep you alive.
So he asks again, “What do I do?”
Like every other time he asks what ‘can’ he do for you, you repeat your words, “Just keep me company.”
He nods, sitting beside you. The tension in the air is obvious, neither utter a single word in this deafening (yet comforting) silence.
Blade cannot accept that you’re giving up, you’re not allowed to give up, he won’t accept it.
He drapes a blanket over you, “Feeling better?”
“A little.” Your throat burns, but you want to talk to him, even when you’re dying, you want to understand him.
”It hurts.” He doesn’t know what to do.
He wants to understand your pain, he wonders, if your pain is as worse as his, that it hurts so much you’d rather pass. That maybe, you’re the same and you wish to die too.
Neither of you will truly understand the other, but you try.
“I got sick when I was a child, 7– no, 8… I don’t remember,” he pretends he doesn't hear the rasp in your voice, “Just… Medicine made the progression slower.”
You could almost cry, “I wanted to study medicine, I wanted to heal others of their pain.”
”I don’t want to die.”
He doesn’t want to hear your desperate cry, he doesn’t hear it.
“Blade, it hurts,” he’s never wanted to shut off his ears when you spoke what he never wanted to hear, “Can I give up?”
He doesn’t want you to, but has no right to deny you peace.
”Is it okay if I give up?”
No, he won’t let you give up. You were there when he was sick, you did not look at him with hatred in your eyes, you treated him like any other person, something that has never happened in years. In your eyes, Blade was just a man.
So he doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t want you to give up, of course; but what can he do?
“It’s okay, right?”
”If that’s what you need.” He holds your hand out of instinct, “Then give up.”
He wants to yell at you that you’re an idiot, that giving up is for the weak but it’d be hypocritical of him to do so, I mean, he’s given up on life a long time ago, what’s he going to do? Tell you inspirational shit to keep your will to live alive?
“Thank you.”
No tears escape him, not a single choked sob leaves his throat but when your eyes lock for one last time, you understood him and he understood you too.
You two were just the same.
He squeezes your hand and rests his head on your stomach, when you don’t flinch, he realises you’re gone now too.
He can no longer understand you by your words, you can no longer speak to him, he can’t understand your past or who you truly are.
But how could you, how did you do it?
A single medical book rests on his hand, he may not understand what you truly are, but he’ll read countless books for you. He’ll play your favourite stupid games for you.
Maybe then, he’ll understand the only person that truly knew him, who gave him company in this miserable life of his.
What a pathetic, miserable, bitter life.
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Note: DEF OOC BUT WHO TF CARES (I DO AND IM EMBARRASSED) but its okay right?? Like i wrote this in just 2 days (5 hours everyday) Whatever whatever i think its okay i feel sick I haven't ate lunch yet bye wuahhshdsj
Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 
38 notes · View notes
voidcat-senket · 1 day
Text
HAPPY ANNIVERSARY JEDI SURVIVOR!
Please enjoy a collection of Cal Kestis/Bode Akuna fanworks to celebrate! Find the AO3 collection here!
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tear down the planet for the hype
FIC AND ART | 4.8k | Teen and Up
“only my friends can call me by it. well, and my masters.” kestis shrugged before stepping back to sit on a stool that seemed randomly in the middle of the room. “but, we are engaged, it would be pretty weird if you were calling me by kestis.” “if it helps, my name is bode,” the jedi shadow said as he stepped forward, holding his hand out for kestis to take if he so inclined. “calling me knight akuna would be too formal for a marriage, whether or not it’s political, and—well who knows, maybe we can become friends?” [jedi shadow bode is given a mission that will end the war—marry sith prince darth kestis. that is, if he survives the first meeting.]
Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Order 66 Didn't Happen, Arranged Marriage, Jedi Shadow Bode Akuna, Sith Cal Kestis, First Meetings, Marriage Contracts, Negotiations, Bode Akuna is a Mess, Fluff and Humor, Pre-Relationship, Stewjoni Cal Kestis
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FIND THE FULL ART PIECE HERE
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Paper and Stone
ART AND FIC | 7.4k | Teen and Up | includes Bode/Tayala
Cal goes to Nova Garon to confront Bode, but he finds the man's quarters full of echoes that show him a side of Bode Cal never thought he'd see.
Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Psychometry | Force Echo (Star Wars), Cal goes to Nova Garon but finds more than he expects, echoes upon echoes upon echoes, SpyScrapper, if you wanted more of Bode and Tayala's relationship here you go
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FIND THE FULL ART PIECE HERE (and a secret bonus here~)
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love is death, love is dying; love is steel, a silver lining
FIC | .5k | Teen and Up
Cal is wary of the blaster Bode has given him. Bode teaches him some basic gun safety.
Tags: Guns, Canon Compliant, Sort Of, Maybe - Freeform, You Decide, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Missing Scene, Implied Relationships, Angst
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Second Date! An Ode to Visual Novels
VIDEO | 1hr | Teen and Up
Tags: visual novel, time travel fix-it, time loop, simulated dating sim, Bode POV
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fire still burns in a vacuum
FIC | 1.6k | Teen and Up
It's been a year and Cal returns to the observatory for the first time. He hadn't expected someone else to do the same.
Tags: Grief/Mourning, Character Study, Relationship Study, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Author Welcomes All Interpretations, This Is a Study On Cal's Grief With a Twist at the End, Post-Canon, Canon-Typical Dark Themes
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FIND THE FULL ART PIECE HERE
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Roots in Place of my Heart
8.8k | Mature | includes Bode/Tayala
When Bode saw the date, he had to swallow down a mix of blood and bile. There’s something growing in Bode’s chest, filling out the space that was left vacated when Tayala died and took his heart with her. They say the only cure to grief is life. Or death.
Tags: Hanahaki Disease with my own twist on it, Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Body Horror, Love Confessions, Pretending you’re fine even though you’re very much not, Grief/Mourning
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Lights Glow in your Wake
FIC | 5.4k | Teen and Up
Cal gives Bode a gift for their anniversary. The trouble is- their anniversary isn't for another three weeks, Bode is sure of it.
Tags: Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Canon, Domestic Fluff, Anniversary, Established Relationship, Planet Tanalorr, POV Bode Akuna, POV Third Person Limited, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Jedi Culture & Customs
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Blue Skies Over Bad Lands
FIC | 18.6k | Mature
Bode looks up and Cal’s gaze snags his immediately, drawing him in. The rebel Jedi is a remarkable combination of wariness and vulnerability, like no matter how hard Cal tries to steel himself against the pain, his grief and longing and love are too strong, too pure to be contained. They shine through the cracks like a ray of blazing light. (Or: Bode and Cal fall in love. It complicates things.)
Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It, Mild Sexual Content, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Pining, Confessions, Secret Identity Fail, Canon Rewriteish, Cal Kestis is a Force of Nature and Bode couldn't get off this ride even if he wanted to, They're In Love Your Honor
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I Don't Wanna Say No to This
FIC | 4.1k | Teen and Up
Bode is not actually looking for Cal Kestis when he trips over him on his way out of the bar. He’s looking for work, actually— he needs to fix up the ancient freighter he’d wound up buying for Kata and himself, that first awful week after finding Tanalorr and feeling it clutching at him in the Force, the planet a near-sentient thing, clawing, greedy… He shakes off the sensation, hopes it’s only a memory, and looks down at Kestis. He’s unconscious, his face a single bruise, and there are four beings surrounding them. None of them look like anyone he’d leave alone in an alley with anyone, even someone who most likely wants him very dead.
Tags: Bittersweet, Angst, Miscommunication, Reunions, Forgiveness, Rescue, Implied/Referenced Slavery, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Bode was not ready to face his past, Cal's not emotionally capable of facing his past, Together they make like one entire functioning person, Past Relationship(s), Established Relationship
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FIND THE FULL ART PIECE HERE
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a soft place to land
FIC | 3.8k | Mature
A hot day on Koboh leads to a shared shower and a realization - sometimes it's nice to be taken care of.
Tags: Smitten Bode Akuna, Bode Akuna Lives, Hair Washing, Making Out, i still don't know how to tag these things, Fluff and Mush, Near-Human Cal Kestis, Again, sharp teeth sharp teeth sharp teeth, Body Worship, Smitten Cal Kestis, Soft Cal Kestis, POV Bode Akuna, soft intimacy, Light Angst, showering together, Not Canon Compliant, Post-game, We call this "fluid dynamics" with the way Cal and Bode keep switching
36 notes · View notes
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TIME TO LOVE STEPHANIE BROWN aka SPOILER
She deserves JUSTICE!
Greek Goddesses! Another character that earned a love post from me, she needs the love, she DESERVES to be loved 💜💜💜 (spoiler alert, this post will be a loooooooooong 😅 )
I found out about her and other characters thanks to the wholesome slice of life comic Batman: family Wayne adventures months ago (I've been a DC Batman fan since I was a kid but I mostly watched shows that didn't include said characters before starting with the comics) and I fell in love with her, I mean she is all purple and her hero name is SPOILER 💘 so she could jump on criminals and say things like: SPOILER ALERT YOU'RE ABOUT TO GET BUSTED 👊😂 HELLO? INSTANT LOVE 💘and then I searched for her, read a lot of comics... and learned SOOO many outrageous things!🤬 Welcome to Hypocrisyland 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️. Here comes the RANT:
So she was an independent girl who made herself the Spoiler persona to "spoil" her wannabe Riddle father's evil deeds and she was a bit morally gray and cynical and wasn't particularly trying to be a hero or a vigilante and then after meeting Robin she started to change her mind inspired by HIM so all her thing started completely separated from Batman and technically it was by associating herself with Tim/Robin that at some point she started to want Batman's approval too and started the whole "fight to prove that I deserve a place here" thing but I think the amount of disrespect this girl faced is ridiculous! Treated like she was hopeless, useless, stupid etc... is she a punching bag? Treated like shit by so many characters for no good reason 😡 and I didn't see any satisfying consequence on them because of it, it was as if the way they treated her was justified because... I don't know, she was compared to Jason, to Dick, to Tim and to Barbara but when is only about her own person she wasn't good enough so they were hysterical about her hurting herself or dying faster than any of them 🙄, so everything is justified because they were worried?
Sorry but NO, I don't care if she isn't as skillful as characters like Cassandra or Damian that were raised to be living killing weapons by assassins or that she isn't intelligent genius detective level with a rich live background that could afford special ttraining like Tim or Batman himself, that she isn't some erudite engineer to build herself taser weapons like Harper Row or a suit flying armor like Luke Fox, that she doesn't have military training like Kate Kane, that she doesn't have hacker skills or a cop dad as Barbara Gordon, or she doesn't have powers like Duke or wasn't trained by ninjas like Selina Kyle or that she started only having good grades at gymnastics instead of having been raised in a circus by acrobats like Dick Grayson... I DON'T CARE, because she had a lot of qualities to start from Zero to Hero that are probably a lot more relatable than the other characters, most people don't have third rate criminal fathers but still she is a lot closer to the normal people than other characters and that makes her great, she is so resourceful even thought that unlike Batman and Tim she comes from poverty and can't get high tech stuff, yet she made herself a costume and helped take down her criminal father in a low budget! How come her resourceness in her situation wasn't impressive to them? How come that she had to endure being dismissed and underestimated constantly over and over until her death? It was exhausting to see! The fact that she started being resentful towards her father and wanted more revenge than justice is enough to ditch her as a hero? (Maybe the Avengers would have welcomed her better in that case 🙄) How much she had to train until the writers stopped making her look unfit and unworthy despite everything?
I don't get why they decided to make everyone around her be an asshole, a jerk, a hypocrite... Specially Tim and Batman (the AUDACITY of these two! Batman "fired" Her from being Spoiler like she being Spoiler had anything to do with him in the first place, entitlement much? Robin mantle I get it but The Spoiler mantle was hers from the beginning he can't fire her from it and then Tim went to comfort her, ironic since he kept telling her to hang the suit all the time, he also said being a Teen Titan was out her league when she was offered a place and told her she can't speak for herself, seriously you fucking jerk? Does he think he is Dick Grayson or what? 😒 the entitlement is spreading! and later when he became Red Robin he DEMANDED her to never be Spoiler again... Oh FUCK YOU 🖕🤬, mister "I discovered your secret so now you have to hire me as Robin" Worse part of that is that he said that after finding out things she was doing on Batman's orders wtf? So is bad always no matter if she disobeys or obeys Batman she can't win) They even made my dear Alfred be cold with at first because "she hurt Tim" but it was actually Batman's fault because he told her his secret 😤 well at least that treatment didn't last, bless Alfred for crying after her death when Dick asked about her and being so happy to see her alive he lose his British.
Why they hated her so much to the point they just doomed her to a horrible death that wasn't even heroic? She was tortured for days after provoking a gang war following one of Batman's plans trying to gain his trust back after he fired her from being his Robin for only 2 months! 🤬 2 miserable months!! because she disobeyed him (sure, sure, no other Robin BEFORE and AFTER her has ever disobeyed Bats orders right? 🙄) and the last person she sees before dying is him who was always comparing her to her male predecessors because he didn't like she was more questioning than them and then lied to her dying face about considering her a real Robin (by the way it felt so wrong that she became Robin out of spite because she saw a girl kissing Tim and she assumed he was cheating... I mean I can't blame her he did CHEAT on his first girlfriend with her, boy I hate this kind of teen drama) . They said it was "unclear" If he was telling the truth, HA! PLEASE. 🙄Of course he is not going to tell the ugly truth to a dying girl (he even "insulted" Her once saying she fights like a girl, wtf? She should have tell on him to Dinah lance) The ones who should have been there were Cassandra and Tim they actually did considered her a Robin, yep even Tim (he even mentioned a few positive things about her time being Robin) after he retook the mantle, they at least loved her! Even if they wronged her at least there was no doubt that they loved her... (Even if Tim's grief for her was short and too dry! 😡, They wanted people to forget about her so hard he was already having new love interests when not even a year passed, he suffered a lot more with his father and Superboy's death than with Stephanie 🤬, at least Cass cried and dreamed about her and thankfully Alfred and Barbara cried for her too even when they weren't that close to her at that time) Because seriously, this was a pitiful sad death, not bothering in making it a sacrifice or falling on combat saving someone noooo, she died after making a huge mistake trying to impress someone who never actually seemed to like her at all! In a gruesome and kinda sexualized way, nobody came to rescue her... Batman only showed up to pick her up after she escaped alone and tell her pretty lies before dying.
What a fucking Joke 🤦‍♀️ how humiliating for a character with a hell lot of potential WASTED! She didn't even get a memorial in the Batcave like Jason! Both their deaths were meant to be permanent but the comics only wanted you to remember Jason but not about Stephanie! Like he never existed! (And later the lame excuse for it🙄, like Batman suspected she wasn't really dead but he didn't tell Tim or Cass about that suspicion? None of them confronted him about the lack of memorial of her? Wouldn't they demand a memorial of a girl that meant a lot to them? He suspected she was alive but he never care to find her?🙄😑 Talk about crappy, tacky writing) it's like the character was thrown like garbage... Indeed that's what they intended to, her death was supposed to be permanent but fortunately for us fans rioted to demand her return very rightfully! 😤 and... Her return was still rushed, lame and lazy 😒 and they forgot to add a LOT of characters reactions seeing her alive 🤦‍♀️, like not even Cass??? I searched and never found a comic with her reaction after finding out she was alive! All out of camera, I hate that, is just so TACKY! Not an epic death and not proper comeback 😬😬
But then we had her run as the third Batgirl! Her solo as Batgirl did a lot of good for her character, with the exception of a few things I disliked like: her interaction with Catwoman that didn't make sense with how they met in the gangs war or that once again Batman has to have all the credit 🙄 because at the end he comes back from a not actual death and it turns out the whole make her a Batgirl was his doing and not Cassandra's doing😑 that would have been better because later they could rub it on his face but they couldn't because it was his idea 😬 but hey at least she got to SLAP him 🤣👏👏 that was epic BRAVO! Ahh that solo lasted too little! She got to put Tim in his place, she became friends with Supergirl and bonded with Damian as a big sister, I swear she should have spent more time with them, she demonstrated her bravery and willpower when she kicked the Scarecrow ass, finally earning Barbara's respect and admiration after she was so bitchy with her, its always so satisfying seeing characters standing up for her after so much mistreatment (i guess she had mixed feelings with the fact that Stephanie is a Batgirl that resembles more to her, Dick also mentioned that and thankfully he stopped being a jerk hypocrite with her too) and did I a mention that she FUCKING SLAPPED BATMAN? Because that is extremely important 😂 and Alfred defended her calling Bruce out in his bullshit test. Then for some stupid out of the blue reason she retired for a year... AFTER ALL SHE WENT THROUGH TO EARN THAT MANTLE? 🤬🤬🤬. Anyway she had to take the mantle back because she was chosen for some tournament where she had to fight Catman and there was Tim again looking down on her 🙄 "why weren't we chosen Cass we are better fighters she is a year out of shape" (Yeah who the fuck decided to make her hang the cape after everything? 🤡) at least Cass defended her saying that she is unpredictable, not like when they were training (Steph was still death) and out of the blue she unnecessarily tells him "you learn fast not like my last student" Really? I recall you enjoying training her 🙄 Sure Cassandra cried and dreamed of her but she used to look down on her a lot, the way she knocked her out in after being fired from being Robin was something we never see her apologize for, it was swept under the rug like never happened, Steph never confronted her about it even though she left her feeling betrayed 🤦‍♀️ and then besties again like nothing 😒. But at least she punched Tim for being an imbecile and then they got together again, so lovely, so happy, she was finally getting respect... BOOM: the new 52 reboot happened. 😃😃
The only thing I liked was that she got triple nunchakus as a personal weapon and that way she doesn't copy Robin's stick and the fact that she went through teen pregnancy and had to give up the baby because I hated that lazy plot that was only meant to make her and Tim have a closer relationship is not canon anymore(they really couldn't think of anything else to deepen their relationship than making her go through that pain so he could support her?😒🤦‍♀️ besides, she had a traumatic sexual assault experience as a child so I find hard to believe she would let herself get pregnant with the scumbag she dated before Tim, I hard to believe she didn't dumped him until he abandoned her in the earthquake) but her origin and relationship with Tim was erased along her time as Robin and as Batgirl(even thought that somehow thankfully now is canon again)and other character named Harper basically took a bit of Steph and Cassandra stories, mixed them and made them her own... pretty lame because Harper's concept was actually cool but she taking their place wasn't cool she also was the one to befriend Cassandra and had a conection with her first instead of Steph and the one who had to fight to be allowed to be a vigilante by Batman instead of her and she was the one that convinced Steph to join the fight instead of Steph wanting to do it by herself but the thing that infuriates me the most in this reboot was that she was accepted into the batfamily without much problem but altmost inmidiatly they made her go against them and againts Batman that this time wasn't being an asshole to her due to the apparent death of Tim Drake, Batman was even being affectionate with her, that hug he gave her to comfort her was precious 🥺 and so satisfying to see but then they had to ruin everything by making her be unreasonable and insufferable to create cheap drama 🤦‍♀️, now that she got the only thing she wanted pre reboot they make her want to walk away?🤡🤡🤡 not to mention I was already pissed of that in her solo as Batgirl they forgot what kind of interaction she had with Catwoman, basically Selina was the last person who was sweet and kind to her before she was killed, it would have been nice to see a proper reaction to her come back but the reboot made things worse! Selina was bitchy and mean to Steph even if she gave her some acknowledgement to her talent but she refused to grant my wish of training her and instead she was trained by the second Catwoman that honesty was disappointed but not that bad because I will like any character that would want to help Steph and Eiko (2° Catwoman) took her in for a while and bothered to teach her something so KUDOS 👍 for her! And Cassandra, Dinah and Barbara too.
And well I'm going to stop the rant here because aside of Tim dumping her and treating her shitty for no reason when they were finally happy so he could be with a random background NPC boy nobody cared about or even remembered so he could prove his bisexuality 😑😑😑, in general things are finally getting good for her: she is finally fully recognized as a Robin and she got another solo with Cassandra and Barbara as Batgirls that wasn't as good as the first one but it was nice and apparently she is now going to have her own team of young superheroes in a new comic.
I wanted to make an statement about things I like about her, the need to make her interact with other characters I think she would get along and my new Ship with her and Jason but all that will have their owns individual posts because I already wrote too much here, if you read it all thank you so much 🙏🙏🙏❤❤ if you felt offended or disagreed with something I said I apologize but remember that this is just the random opinion of a random Tumblr user so... See you in my next posts 😘💋💋
STEPHANIE BROWN DESERVES LOVE AND JUSTICE 💪💜
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madaqueue · 11 hours
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playlists
what a waste | "army dreamers" x kate bush
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synopsis: on what would have his twentieth birthday, you visit geto's grave
pairing: suguru geto x reader
themes/content: semi-canon curse au. angst. language. death/loss.
word count: 1.3k
a/n: here's some angst bc i've been in a mood for the past few days and am allergic to being happy!
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The grass is damp under your skin, the rain from this morning clinging to your clothes, the smell of wet earth lingering despite the absence of clouds in the sky. This is the closest it’s gotten to raining on this day in years, what would be a sign of late winter opening into spring, but today it just feels dreary and cold.
Sighing, you place the bouquet of lilacs - his favorites - onto the stone, careful to not cover the plaque adorning the granite. At this point you could recite it in its entirety without needing to see it, the words burned into your mind from the countless days you spent reading and rereading it, hoping that the shape of the characters would finally make it sink in.
Suguru Geto
Cherished and loved.
The epitaph still feels halfhearted, empty. Even though you and Satoru spent weeks trying to figure out what to write, everything you came up with felt hollow, unable to capture his essence. You wanted to do him justice, but you just couldn’t; he’s more than a plot of land and some words engraved in stone.
Of course, it’s a moot point: the grave is empty, anyways. After the fight against Toji, Shoko had to completely destroy his body, the risk of it being used maliciously too great. A shudder runs down your spine as you picture it, the cruelty of using your best friend’s corpse for something malevolent.
Would he notice? Would it bother him to know what had happened to his flesh? What makes a person, anyways; is it the body, or is it something else? You hope he doesn’t mind what had to happen to him after his heart quieted and his breathing stilled.
Are you at peace, Suguru?
You can’t help but wonder if, after everything, death brought him a respite from the pain he endured while alive. You knew the nature of his cursed technique, the necessary consumption of evil; in absorbing it, did it make him, too, evil? Was he plagued by the darkness he was destined to destroy?
You hope not. Despite the wickedness he witnessed, he nevertheless dreamed, hoping for a brighter future.
“What did you wanna be when you were a kid?” you ask through a mouthful of ramen.
Suguru sits across from you in the booth, forearms resting on the table as he eats his lunch. “What do you mean?” he questions, tilting his head ever so slightly.
“What did you want for a job? There’s no way you wanted to be a sorcerer,” you chuckle. “Like, I wanted to be one of those people who makes the cool brick patterns along sidewalks.”
He holds back a laugh at your answer. “I’m not sure, I don’t think I ever really thought about it.” He pauses, taking another bite of his food. “But I guess if I had to pick, probably a musician or something, maybe guitar, I always liked how they could make something sound beautiful with just their hands,” he muses softly.
“I could totally see you on a sick guitar,” you grin.
“Yeah, but I got my cursed technique too early. I never really got a chance to do anything but this,” he shrugs. “Maybe in another life.”
“Maybe,” you smile.
Now, the guitar you picked out for him, an acoustic one crafted in dark wood, sits in the back of your closet collecting dust. You were supposed to give it to him for his birthday. He was supposed to play it. He was supposed to be here, be alive, be celebrating with you.
Pain shoots up your palm as you look down, realizing your hands have been clenched into fists, your nails beginning to draw blood. Shaking out your arms you take in an uneven breath, a desperate attempt to steady yourself.
All the things he never got to do.
“I’m sorry, Suguru,” you whisper to yourself, placing a bloodied hand over the grass covering his grave.
He should be here. He never even got to turn twenty, never got to have kids or the family he wanted, hell, he was just a kid himself when he died. Just a fucking kid.
“That…that can’t be right,” you stammer. “There’s no way.”
“I’m sorry,” Satoru places a hand on your back, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. “I - fuck - I couldn’t save him. I was too late.”
“No, no, no, no,” you begin to spiral, gaze rapidly shifting over the ground as you process his words.
Suguru was dead. Killed by a man named Toji Fushiguro, trying to protect the Star Plasma Vessel, the one who was supposed to assimilate with Master Tengen.
“I don’t…I don’t know what happened,” Satoru chokes out, “But…I saw his body. He’s gone.”
A scream echoes down the corridor - was it yours? Everything feels far away as Gojo wraps his arms around you, sobs racking your body as you cry into one another.
Shaking your head, you wipe the tears that have begun to fall as you remember the day you lost him. Despite the years that have passed, you remember it like it was yesterday, the way the setting sun covered you and Satoru as the night air came in, unable to move from that spot as you wept together.
The sickest fucking part was that it didn’t even matter.
When Riko Amanai, the Vessel, was found dead, they just got a replacement, another body to stand in for Master Tengen’s needs. They told Suguru to protect her with his life and he did, but ultimately the loss of hers was inconsequential to the upkeep of Jujutsu society; just as one flower died they plucked another.
But they couldn’t regrow Suguru’s soul.
Four men.
That’s how many it took to carry his body from the basement of Jujutsu High. You watched in silence as they passed you, unspeaking, unwavering, unbothered as they bore his weight.
It feels wrong, somehow, like he should be heavier. He always had this gravitational pull, this universe-sized soul that drew everything to him - shouldn’t they be able to feel that?
How heavy is a body? How heavy is the grief it carries?
“Hey,” a voice pulls you back to the present, the sun beginning to hang low in the sky as you ground yourself, idly tugging at the dirt beneath you. “I’m glad to see you,” Satoru greets warmly as he walks across the graveyard towards you.
Since the last time you saw him he’s aged, the creases around his eyes deeper than a twenty-year-old’s should be, an air of sadness clinging to him like wet clothes after being caught in the rain.
“You too,” you smile as he sits next to you in the damp grass.
Neither of you explicitly make plans to see each other here every year, yet you both tacitly know you wouldn’t miss this, the annual reconvening one you simultaneously cherish and dread. Suguru deserves to be celebrated, but it’s also a reminder of the time he didn’t get, the birthdays cut short when his life was stolen from him.
The two of you sit in silence for a while, content without speaking as a cool breeze picks up, dusk settling in.
“He should be here,” Satoru mutters, his knees tucked up to his chest.
“I know,” you murmur as you lay on your back, gaze unfocused on the darkening sky above you.
Another momentary pause falls between you.
“Did you love him?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you answer truthfully. “Did you?”
“Yeah.”
You let out a shaky breath. “Satoru?”
“Mhm?”
“Do you think that was enough, that we loved him?”
He tilts his head to look down at the grave that separates you, the lilacs you brought now lightly covered in a layer of dew. Sighing, he brushes away the tears that had been forming along his lash line. “I hope so.”
“I hope so, too.”
He reaches an arm out to you, holding your hand in his as you both place your empty palms onto the dirt.
“Happy birthday, Suguru,” you whisper.
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vapolis · 2 days
Note
D’s reaction to that last question is quite interesting. They’ve known Merc the least amount of time (Supposedly. Maybe they have a hidden shared past like last demo iirc). Their reaction was more personal than Orla who just took their hypothetical death as a “great, now I have to find a new one”. I have to wonder if it’s Merc’s sorta infamous reputation that has shaped their perception or something more involved for D’s reaction.
On another note I find Orla’s detachment to Merc fascinating. Similar to another anon question she’s known Jax and D for less time and I understand roles and all that but it doesn’t make sense for the distance. Jax is an employee too. D is something. Yet they seem to hold much more value to her. Is it just because of their roles? Or does she just think Merc is a bad/unimportant person?
Talking about D would probably be spoilers but Jax, would her reaction to his death be more personal than “now I have to get another body guard/business partner”?
orla doesn't think the merc is unimportant or bad, she just recognizes them for what they currently are. which is a mercenary. they do have a special ability orla has come to rely on on jobs she sends them off to, but she knows if things ended in the death of the merc, she could get a different mercenary to do similar work.
their history is complicated and will be touched on, but it also means that orla can't afford to grow too attached or to put more stake on the mercs life than she does right now. in an ideal world, orla could trust the merc to stay by her side as an asset the same way jax is, but she's not delusional enough to believe that.
the merc has the more dangerous life out of all the characters you named. jax is protected by the gang and respect he wields as part of the mirage and the club. there's no fear that he can end up dead in a ditch like the merc could and leave orla without her right hand man.
if that happened, however, she'd be shaken by it. she trusts him with her business, and he is seen as her stand-in by everyone. if someone were to get to him, she has to fear that someone could come for her as well.
dante/delilah is a different matter entirely. their relationship appears physical as of now but orla has a different fondness for her dancers due to her own history and therefore would be more rattled if something happens to them because she knows they're not like the merc. able to defend themself against people coming for their head.
she trusts the merc to do what must be done and values their abilities but knows that if the merc's life is on the line, the merc could come out on top. if she's proven false in that belief, she'll ofc mourn the loss of what the merc could do and the way they were but as of right now, it wouldn't stop her from continuing on to follow her own agenda.
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jo-harrington · 2 days
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Gratia. (An As Above, So Below Story)
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Gratia. Charitas. Solamen. Grace. Charity. Peace. The oath of the Knights of the Holy Order.
Summary: You and Eddie-- separated by time and endless suffering--don't realize how many strings keep you connected on the web of fate. What players are there trying to cut those strings? And when will you both find out that they are unbreakable?
Word Count: 2.1k
Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!OC (The Knight - Written in 2nd Person POV - You/Your - No Use of Names of Physical Descriptors)
Warnings/Themes: Soulmates, Kas!Eddie, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Grief, Minor Character Deaths, Manipulation, Transformation, Corruption, Supernatural Encounters, Religious Elements, Criticism of Religion, Biblical and Other Literary and Pop Culture References
Note: So...originally this was going to be one long thing. A tale about the Knight and Eddie and their unbreakable bond. And I wavered about how relevant it would be to the larger story. How relevant are any of these blurbs to the larger story? But if there's anything I've learned writing AASB, it's that I'm really writing the whole thing for myself. And after finding myself in an odd state of grief that kind of just keeps getting worse over the weekend, I know that this little fic...and the two that follow...really are only going to just be for me to help me get through it, so I need to be true to myself and write them anyway. **So if you do read this, please know it can be read in tandem with As Above, So Below. And you should have at least read the Prequels, with maybe some bonus points for Genesis. Iif you've read the Hymns, this is set before Nachzehrer.**
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
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“God is a comedian playing to an audience that is too afraid to laugh.” ― Voltaire
November 10, 1986
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thank you."
"She's not suffering anymore. Tranquilla."
"Thank you, I know. She's been sick for a long time. She's at rest now."
"Mom brought mostaccioli. And chicken cutlets. She's setting it up in the other room then she'll be over. You should get some, you need to eat."
"I'll be alright, thank you for coming."
Today was the final day that you would spend with your Nonna.
Well, a more accurate description was that they let you have it.
Let you.
Let you have one day to sit on that stiff funeral home sofa. To stare at her, unrecognizably still in her casket, as friends and neighbors swarmed to offer their condolences. To mourn with you.
But somehow also separately from you.
And tomorrow, after she was behind a cold slab of marble, you'd be off again. Creeping closer to your own death until one day you might be placed in a plot adjacent to her.
Together.
But not really.
If there was anything left of you.
It wouldn't do to think of that today though.
Today, you would sit here. Enjoy your break and bask in the remnants of her soul that still lingered in and around her body.
It brought you some comfort to feel it move the way she did.
It danced like she danced around the kitchen, the boundaries of it crinkling like the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth. A phantasmic remnant of her lovingly worried gaze was on you every now and again, creating the urge to say "I'm ok Nonnie." To lie to her, like you always did. And whenever one of her friends knelt their own aging bodies to pray at her side, you could practically see the softness of her cushion their jagged edges, comforting them.
You didn’t dare go up yourself though.
Not yet.
Not unless you wanted the Funeral Director to haul you out of the casket because somewhere deep down you just wanted to crawl into it with her and scream,
“Take me with you. Don’t leave me like I left you.”
Because you were not ok.
You closed your eyes as a phantom hand touched your shoulder, as it attempted to soothe the pain deep inside you but only managed to stir up another kind of pain. Another kind of mourning.
If only he was really there, you could ask him to take you with him too. Take you away from here to wherever he and Nonna would wait for you.
An impossible request.
The weight of the sofa shifted beside you and you opened your eyes. You expected to find Fortunata or Antoinette—two of Nonna’s closest friends who could claim a spot beside you if they truly wanted—but instead you found Gabriel’s stiff inhuman posture and expressionless face staring ahead of him at the casket.
“You could have helped her,” you said instead of a greeting. What good would a greeting do? “Healed her.”
You briefly wondered if you'd imagined the corner of his mouth quirking before he spoke.
“And if I told you I had? If I spared her a worse fate? Lessened her pain? Lessened yours?”
“I wouldn’t believe you.”
“Then I won’t tell you.”
You turned back to watch the casket with an unsatisfied hum.
Time passed and you sat silently together as you fought to keep your emotions in check with Gabriel's presence. You weren't nervous, per se; more annoyed. Angry, even. Questioning why he was here on this day out of all days.
All your life, you explained away his presence as a guardian. Unseen and unknown to everyone but you. He used to protect you or so you could recall, but as you got older that seemed to stop.
And he was more of a harbinger of doom than a deterrent of it.
Well, not doom.
Fate.
Or God's will or some shit like that. You didn't know anymore. Didn't care. You only cared about getting to the finish line. Freeing your soul of this curse. Getting your prize.
Heaven. Home. Peace with the ones you loved.
With Nonna.
With Eddie.
So if Gabriel was here, it meant something was about to happen. Something unsavory. Something...
You blinked and he disappeared from your peripheral vision suddenly, and just beyond the space he had previously occupied, stood a man in a black cassock.
Jinette approached you but you didn't give him the satisfaction of your attention until he said your name and offered his condolences.
"May I sit?" he gestured beside you.
"Seat's taken," you responded coldly.
"Ah, your mother, yes," he nodded in realization, and you watched him pull a chair up from one of the rows behind you.
You wouldn't be the one to tell him that your mother hadn't shown her face since you arrived back in Chicago late last night. She had done her duty, arranged the funeral and called you home. Beyond that her obligation was almost over; she could be free.
There had been a brief moment between the two of you when you let yourself into Nonna's flat and found her at the table surrounded by paperwork and old pictures, and you thought for the briefest second that this might be a turning point. That she might exhume whatever love she used to have for you, buried so deep in her heart, so you wouldn't have to mourn alone.
Instead she said she was sorry, then kissed your cheek and left.
And really you only had yourself to blame at the disappointment that punctuated the interaction. How could you have expected anything more than that when the bar was already set so low?
"California is a long way to come just for funeral rites," you said once Jinette was settled.
"I'm afraid that's not what I'm here for."
"Then to attend a funeral of a very devout woman," you amended.
"I'm not here for that either." You would give it to him, the remorse plastered on his features almost looked sincere. "Unfortunately, there is a very dire situation and the Order is in need of your experti--"
"No," you cut him off swiftly. "Tomorrow. You can ask me to go tomorrow. Not today."
The usual coldness of his gaze returned and he addressed you stiffly.
"You cannot refuse. Must not. This is your duty."
You turned to him, hand shooting from your lap of its own volition to grab his robe and pull him close enough that your noses practically touched.
The funeral goers around you began to murmur--your Nonna's friends whispering in fear and shame, saying a prayer to spare them of whatever wrath would befall you for defying and possibly harming his eminence--but you ignored them.
You knew you might pay for it later, but for now your rage was warranted.
"Don't lecture me about duty," you hissed at Jinette. "My entire life has been about duty. Her life too. If you want me to go? You'll beg me. Not guilt me. But I promise that the answer will still be no."
Something wicked flickered inside of you, and you wondered if you could smite Jinette. Just a little bit. If you could channel the deep-rooted grudge against your plight and let him feel the consequences that waited to befall someone who had nurtured it.
Then you felt a slight disturbance in the room.
The calm of Nonna's soul was shaken from its bliss, and you could practically hear the sharp, punishing clicks of her tongue as you fisted Jinette's robe tighter and tighter. The flame of the candles beside her casket flickered, the leaves on the flower arrangements that filled the room began to wilt, and the whispers around you got louder until they roared in your ears.
Your eyes burned with unshed tears as the feeling of Nonna's disappointment surrounded you--filled you--and you fought it for as long as you could.
But if anyone here was going to reprimand you in this room, in this world, it would be her.
You let Jinette go and fell back into the couch with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. He heaved several heavy breaths and patted his chest pathetically.
"Tomorrow," you told him as Nonna's soul and the murmurs of the people around you settled back down into a serene silence.
The tears finally fell after he left, and you closed your eyes as Eddie's ghostly touch softly wiped them away.
"Tomorrow..."
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November 6, 1983
Twang.
He enjoyed it.
Twang.
Enjoyed plucking the guitar strings and letting the reverberation travel along his fingertips and into the very core of him.
Twang.
Deep down in that dark pit where you seemed to hide, every note was like a starburst of brightness and good feelings. Things so foreign and forgotten to him now, yet still so integral to Eddie Munson.
He wasn't Eddie anymore though.
So he resented the fact that he enjoyed it so much.
"Play something," you would whisper in those hidden depths, like a devil on his shoulder, and he constantly fought the temptation to follow that urge. "Play me a song, I know you know how."
He never gave in though.
Could never give in.
It was bad enough that he hid you from Henry, that he even listened to you at all. But feeling something--doing something--was better than feeling nothing in the boring, timeless eternal void of the Upside Down. So he would allow himself these brief visits to the trailer, he would tolerate your soft words and the ever-present softness of the ghost that seemed to haunt him here, so he could pluck a few twangs of the guitar strings and bask in the sparks of euphoria they would bring.
And it was enough. It had to be enough.
Then, when he got bored or hungry or irritated by you, away he would go again.
"I would argue that me being annoying is the reason you still keep me around."
He hissed at you and pulled his hands away from the guitar spitefully.
Twang.
He watched as one of the strings seemed to pluck itself and debated whether he could reach out and take a swipe at you, but there was a sudden pain beneath his sternum. Odd, seeing as he barely felt pain in this body now. He clicked his claws together contemplatively, then hesitantly rubbed at it to soothe the ache, and as he did, he felt the echoes of your soft sigh somewhere deep inside him.
He faltered for a moment, unsure if he should feel some sort of satisfaction that he had comforted you, or resentment that he had fallen for it.
He hated you. Hated your presence there. Hated that you were somehow here when you left him to this fate. Hated that you made him weak again when Henry had remade him to be strong. Infallible.
You might very well be his downfall one day.
And still he couldn't fathom being without you again.
He growled deeply and, unexpectedly, the trailer shook around him, walls clattering, remnants of knick knacks falling.
For a moment, he watched it in awe. Believed that he was the cause of it. That the power Henry had helped him unlock had been activated with his spite.
Until everything started to shake.
The Upside Down became unsettled, the very ground beneath him shifting with some seismic agitation. Roiling and churning, changing.
There was a cacophony of restlessness through the collective consciousness as all of the creatures of the Upside Down felt the disturbance. As Henry felt the disturbance and questioned its origin, because it had not been of his design.
Almost immediately, he was singled out amongst the masses, ordered to his Master's side.
Who else could find the cause of this turmoil than Henry's right hand? His loyal servant? The Beast he created to strike on his behalf, to herald in the end?
Eddie didn't hesitate.
He left the trailer and took flight swiftly and dutifully, beating his wings powerfully to get to Henry as quickly as he could.
To get away from you as quickly as he could.
You and your comfortable constant presence in the respite of the trailer.
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“Do not be afraid. Our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.” ― Dante Alighieri, Inferno
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mahuhumaling · 3 days
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JATP Season 2 Wishlist
that i wrote in my notes app back in:
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and realized i never posted it here? tbf i'm rarely on tumblr. but because i really miss them rn i want to share my ✨ brainrot ✨ that i had back when i thought they were getting a renewal.
Carrie Wilson
she was my biggest flaw in Season 1. I wish her "redemption arc" is fleshed out more in Season 2; give her either more context & backstory to validate her reason for unnecessarily antagonizing Julie, or screentime to properly address how she's just projecting an emotion completely different into bitterness and anger into Julie's recovery
show particularly her earlier dynamic w/ Flynn and Julie? Maybe as Flynn calls her out, we'd get flashback glimpses prior to Rose's death (maybe even Double Trouble temporarily being Triple Threat 👉🏽👈🏽)
for some reason i'm picturing a scene where she's in her dance studio (she has one in their mansion, of course) practicing some of her Dirty Candy routine when she keeps messing up and not in the right mindset to keep dancing. i feel like the best (maybe easiest but whatever) way to guide the audience into her artist mind is to make her be a perfectionist. in frustration, she blows up for a minute before slumping onto the ground and reminisces her fun times with Julie & Flynn
also when you have her develop, please don't make her lose her femininity and the bubblegum pop music, it's great
Old Songs Resurfacing
it'll prove how detailed & thorough you are as a screenwriter if you pay off the songs mentioned in Season 1 in passing to be actual songs in Season 2
Unreleased: Get Lost, Long Weekend, Crooked Teeth, My Name is Luke, and if that riff from the scene in EP. 5 that spurred on the Bobby reveal isn't from one of these songs, add that too
Demo Album: Late Last Night, Lakeside Reflection, In Your Starlight
Willex
imagine your queer couple gets to have their first kiss first than your het main couple, not only will that settle Madi & Charlie's statements about being uncomfortable in doing a kissing scene and maintaining the priority of Juke's emotional over physical relationship, it would also make an powerful statement
Reggie's Character Arc
i know that he initially had an arc that involved a romance with Flynn but because of the ages of who they casted, they scrapped it and didn't have time to rewrite the scripts for him as filming neared, so they have time to adapt to how jeremy portrayed him for season 2: a lovable dork who craves familial love
since there's a possibility that lifers can now see the boys, maybe some found family trope for Reggie and Ray Molina?
he has pretty much formed a parasocial relationship with him at this point
so why not instead of a love interest, Reggie can have his character arc develop & we see his family before thru flashbacks and paralleling those in the current times because he sees Ray as a father figure
picture this: it's raining, Bobby opens the garage door to the sound of knocking, the boys find Reggie soaking wet and out of breath when he tries to say he doesn't know where else to go then the boys immediately figure out another fight in the Peters household happened. Reggie tries to talk again when Alex (because even though they're the airhead-sarcastic duo, they know they love each other) runs up to hug him and tells the other he doesn't have to say anything
cut to a freshly showered Reggie, quietly watching tv with Bobby, Luke, and Alex in the garage, eating whatever
also a solo acoustic country song, pls. just to make him happy
The Aftermath of the Deaths
for both the boys and Rose
we get parallels about how Bobby dealt with trauma and grief to Julie
like, the reason why the clothes are still in there (are to have costume changes for the boys) is because Bobby immediately moved out of the house (therefore also the garage) and left the clothes there because he couldn't bear to burn it, or visit the boys' houses to break the news to their families and return the clothes, or donate it somewhere so he just...left it. it would make for a more solid reason (for costume changes) and an emotional context as to how Bobby really tried to forget them because it was "easier."
it would also make sense why Carrie and Julie ended up friends. Rose probably was there for Bobby when they discovered what happened at the alleyway, so they stayed friends over the years and had their respective families but still kept in touch, (bonus points if absolutely nothing romantic happened between them! yay to normalizing platonic male-female relationships) and why Rose would immediately think of Bobby's three late bandmates to send for Julie when she was on her deathbed
Bobby never really "moved on" (because grief is a really complex thing). it's showed that he has a therapist and everything, and this could definitely have some aftereffects on his daughter. Carrie growing up seeing her father be this amazing rockstar but a negligent father and only showing love in ways she doesn't need (like riches and fame and connections to the music industry) because he's actually a really lonely man on the inside and no one can see that except for Bobby's spouse and Carrie. it'd explain why Carrie is spoiled, and other negative character traits that Carrie has on the surface
it's even why Bobby changed his name to Trevor: 1) Bobby is so closely associated to Sunset Curve and it's an absolute pain to be reminded of that every day, 2) it's a stage name and artists really do get that
More Worldbuilding
they already had some pretty creative concepts/ideas in the first season, so why not expand/expound on them a bit more
the instruments are attached to their souls that's why the boys at first can only touch them, like how Willie's skateboard and helmet are attached to him
which is why when they attach themselves to the world of the present, they gather up energy and focus on touching tangible things like the picture frame
this may follow the logic toward the end where they are finally able to touch Julie because she has become attached to their souls. emotionally.
More Creative Collaboration
i believe in the principle that when a story is finally released/published/told to the world, the world shares it. this is also visible in film/tv where when the scripts are finished and actors receive them, the story becomes part of theirs to work on. which means that they have some sort of autonomy over their characters' motivations, a chance to be heard of their ideas and pitches, and why some certain scenes wouldn't work, etc etc. it doesn't just become the director's story nor the screenwriters'.
the actors' ideas such as Perfect Harmony and their solos from Nothing to Lose are great because they let them in. they took risks, and it paid off incredibly well. more of that please. have them be a part of the writing process, (also the story), but never forget what made the music production great in the first place. be coherent and don't be like others that let too many hands work on one piece—it will lose its sound, its identity.
Julie Knowing
that Nick is possessed by Caleb. ohmygOD. hear me out.
the same S1 ending will play somewhere in 2x01, but it will be revealed that Julie was watching through the window the entire time and when she opens the door to receive the flowers, that last look she gives him is actually her scheming.
determined to get Nick back, imagine The Promised Neverland's level of mindgames Julie could play with Caleb because we already know our girl's smart
Free Willie Willie's Freedom
since the boys feel indebted to Willie's help, they insist on helping him too with getting rid of Caleb's stamp
maybe through his connection with Alex? or maybe Willie's family or friends who are still lifers (which is unlikely but either way). he needs to be saved !!
Song Sequences Ideas
juke counter melody duet like Rini's "Even When/The Best Part," Shane & Mitchie's "Wouldn't Change a Thing," or dodie & Jon Cozart's "a love song/a non love song"
emotional carrie ballad paired with lyrical hiphop choreo
willex song - i absolutely have no idea where this could go directionally but maybe alex on an acoustic guitar with a really soft sweet tune
reprises of S1 songs but in the complete opposite of their original style (the fandom's lonelier All Eyes on Me version, i see u)
nick guitar solo - just because Sacha actually plays, idk how it'd fit in to the plot yet but hey
Nothing to Lose (Reprise) - back in the '90s, a producer manipulates Bobby to sign a record deal to become a star but on one condition: disassociate himself with Sunset Curve, to which he first declines until he slowly gets persuaded. (sort of like Todrick Hall's So Lucky to Be You meets Lyn Lapid's Producer Man)
"So how about it, Bobby Shaw? Do we have a deal?"
"Trevor."
"I'm sorry?"
"Call me Trevor Wilson."
i'm pretty sure someone made an animatic with this idea too but i cannot for the life of me find it !!
7. Season 2 starts the same way as Season 1 does before the opening song plays
Black screen that reads a text "Hollywood 1995"
a pan down to the Orpheum's overhead sign that reads "SUNSET CURVE SOLD OUT"
cut to the interior with Rose finishing up her cleaning when a stage manager calls out: "Sunset Curve!" to which Bobby abruptly stops his pacing back and forth to look up. he and Rose look at each other. music swells until...
cut to him running onto the alleyway, "are they still not finished eating? those gluttons are dead to me i swear—" he cuts off his own words when he sees the boys getting dragged onto stretchers. but we, the audience, don't see it. just a close up of bobby as the ambulance lights reflects his face. rose comes up behind him, still clutching their t-shirt.
[i honestly have no idea if Bobby should get on stage because it just proves Luke's theory of The Orpheum's opening bands eventually becoming big & successful so it'll explain the Trevor Wilson fame even though at first he only did it for the boys, or if he shouldn't because according to the article Julie googled he ran away immediately after they were pronounced in the scene] but either way, this is how the opening starts.
then it progresses to Rose and Bobby respectively having children so they could parallel each other blah blah
8. Julie plays a simple song on the piano while the guys watch her in awe
Storytelling through Props
let's dive deep into Rose's luggage/suitcase and use the props to head for Julie's emotional attachment with them
they already did it with the wardrobe: Rose wears the black leather vest in the pilot while Julie wears the same thing in EP 6
add depth to the characters' relationships like us finding out Julie's multilayered necklace is actually a gift from Carrie or something
SOYON ANN YOU'RE A GIFT FROM GOD. Bobby's necklace is present in both young and old!him
**Rose in flashback scenes should be wearing clothes we've already seen Julie in Season 1 just for greater effect.
The Bobby Conflict
definitely needs to be brought up again by Season 2; they only discarded somewhere in the middle because more pressing matters like the boys' existence blipping away was pushed to the forefront of the story
however, The Bobby Conflict changes. it'll be cleared up that he was offered a record deal as a solo artist by a manipulative producer. and given that the poor boy is only 17 (too, maybe), he agrees. what he doesn't know is the contract's fine print: giving up Sunset Curve's royalties
that information clears it up to the audience and the band, so the conflict becomes this: Bobby's Survivor's Guilt. god wouldn't that be so good tackling that in a kids'/family show.
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techwrecker · 13 days
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Un-Happy Bad Batch Eve!
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auwuli · 1 year
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What happened, is that they switched teams and it had consequences.
Steve teamed up with Dustin to distract the demobats and Eddie went with Robin and Nancy to fry Vecna for good.
My inspiration : Don't go by BMTH ft. Lights
Steve asked to switch position last minute with Eddie because of a strange feeling in his guts. It wasn't fear. He knew what fear felt like. It's something he got to come across a lot in the last four years of fighting monsters and babysitting so many problem magnets. It was more of an intuition than anything, something that told him Eddie shouldn't be here. Over those years Steve learned to trust his guts to keep them alive, alongside swinging nailed baseball bats and throwing (mostly taking) punches. So, since this almost stranger that made him feel all sorts of confusing things was one of his people now, he got him to go elsewhere. Steve would do anything to protect his own. And awkwardly squeezed between Robin and Nancy, armed to the teeth, was the safest place he could think of for Eddie. He felt immediately more at ease. Yes, it was the right thing to do, undoubtedly.
“Don't try to be cute- be a hero or something.”
If Steve hadn't insisted they switched teams, if he could have listened to his own damned words... Eddie should have stayed strong against his worried puppy eyes and sweet tone, “look after the girls for me. Eds, Please.” He should have said “no Big Boy, we stick to the plan.” It was as simple as that. Eddie would have run. He would have. He knew he would have because that's what he did best. But no. “I'll make him pay” is what he boldly said in response before following the girls in the woods.
And then, Steve died in Dustin's arms.
Dustin refused to leave his body, asking him to wake up between strangled sobs.
Robin froze in place, silent, her eyes locked on the blood slowly soaking the ground.
Eddie chocked on a scream, his shaky legs giving out under the crushing weight of guilt.
And Nancy did what she knew Steve would have done. She swallowed down her own tears and screams to drag them out of there, to keep everyone alive.
Unfortunately, Vecna was a roach. Almost impossible to kill and disgusting. He survived. And they had to fight him again.
They erased him from the surface of every dimension eventually. Doesn't matter how. They made sure he paid double for what he did. However, it didn't bring back Steve. This, this is what mattered in the end.
Max woke up a few days after the final battle, blind and filled with so much rage after losing a second brother. A rage they all shared and fiercely kept close to their hearts even after Vecna's death.
The grey of the Upside Down still bled from wounds that may never fully close.
At least, they finally had the time and space to grieve and to attempt to heal those wounds. Mourning this death wasn't like anything they had suffered together until now, but they did their best.
Steve was their protector, a big brother, a hell of a babysitter, a bestfriend, a platonic soulmate, a first love, a something that will never have the chance to grow.
Loss and grief may drive people away from each other. Not them, or at least not forever.
The party split up for a while. Now that the world didn't end and they had a future to look forward to, everyone tried to get their life back. They all did great things and tried to not let the past slow them down too much. Steve would have been proud of his kids, his family.
He would have also understood their struggles.
Eddie and Robin were the ones that had the most troubles dealing with his death. Years have passed, yet, a part of them, and they couldn't really grasp how big it was, was still locked on slow spreading red and kneeling in grey dust.
They couldn't bear to be separated from one another since that day. They clung to each other with everything they had left of strength and love, trying to fight together the storm they were trapped in. Eddie was like the other half of her missing soulmate. And for Eddie, living with Robin was sometimes like experiencing a distorted echo of what could have been. They were platonic with a capital P, but they did everything together. Their bond was beautiful and thrived naturally outside their shared sorrow.
As for Nancy, she did what she knew Steve would have done. She stuck around the ones that needed her the most. She gave Eddie and Robin food when they forgot to eat. She reminded them to take their medications when they were being stubborn. She took everyone to his empty grave as much as they wanted. She tried her best to be there for them because they were her people. And if Steve taught her anything, it's that we take care of our own, no question asked.
Time passed again, Eddie and Robin craved to speak, to be heard. So they poured their fears, their pain, their happiness, and everything in between, in songs that seemed to resonate loudly around them. And when making music together started to become too serious for the duo to handle, Nancy became their manager.
The three of them had really fun days, as much as they had really bad days.
It was life. And it was more than Steve had.
So they made the most of it.
The kids and grown-ups always tried to show up at their shows as often as they could. Slowly, the band grew bigger and bigger, reaching more and more people everyday. People heard them. They listened. They cared. And it helped them heal, gave them a purpose.
Tonight, Eddie stands in front of a black sea of screams and hands thrown in the air. Older, longer hair, more piercings, even more tattoos. He didn't change that much. He lets himself take in this moment, his favorite, when they are blinded by spotlights, covered in sweat and quietly smiling at each other. Robin next to him is older too, hair buzzed, blue, bold make-up, a few piercings, tattoos Eddie himself put under her skin. She changed a lot more compared to him. She had always been beautiful, but she only glowed like that on stage.
The entire family is somewhere in the audience. It has been a year since they were all in the same place together. Even if it was hard to achieve, they always tried to meet once a year for this special day. It meant a lot for them.
It was extra special for Eddie because he was the only one that never got to celebrate Steve's birthday with him.
He is shaking from nervousness about the last song of the night, while Robin is crushing his hand in hers.
They never released it nor played it live until now. It's the song they wrote in spite of every progress they made against their torments and their intent to stay strong for their family. Their music is always deeply personal, but this one is different. This one is an unsung secret. It's something dark, disgraceful, raw and hungry that kept trashing relentlessly inside them.
Eddie was always shameful of the things he felt for a man he would only get to know through the memories of someone else, for a man that wasn't there to witness his love for him blossomed, for a man he would never be able to confess to. Those selfish feelings that he knew he didn't deserve to hoard were not something he was willing to let anyone hear about. Not even Nancy. Only Robin knew about the true colors of his shame and his guilt. But, well, Robin doesn't really count. She's not anyone. She is him. She is him.
Eddie takes a deep breath. They talked about it. He could be selfish and ugly and messy tonight, for the sake of both of them. Robin deserved as much as him to be truly heard.
All of them bare on the strings of his guitar and her violin. All of them bare for those who cared to listen.
“Hi again, we are Sacrificial Hero and we'll close the night with a special song. It's called Don't Go.
Sometimes we can't let go of things we never had.
Can you hear us?”
They hope their love can still reach him.
Until next time, until a second chance in another life.
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shy-sapphic-ace · 10 months
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I'm trying to write this story about a noir-type detective and I'm just finding it so difficult?? Like not even for plot or whatever, I think I'm okay with that, but I'm trying so hard to make my detective guy all angsty and broody and dark, like oooh he's so tortured and sad but he handles it like a Man(TM), that kinda stuff, but every time I make him interact with anyone he just ends up being super polite and friendly. He calls everyone Mr. and Miss and old people Sir or Ma'am. Like, earlier I was just writing and the words were coming along well and when I reread it he was talking about this restaurant he likes because "the tea reminds me of how my grandma used to make it :)" It really shows that I have never actually written angst in my life.
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brittlebutch · 21 days
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still inexorably stuck on Eddie M. and Faith No More’s song Epic is giving me some kind of fucking complex rn
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