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#he actually looks like a wise old dad here
jomeimei421 · 6 months
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GYAAHHH people are reblogging ANCIENT art of mine
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inupibaldspot · 2 months
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Back off, kid.
Pairing: gojo satoru x reader
Note ₊˚⊹♡ : this is a part 2 but you don’t really ly need much context haha.
·:*¨༺ Part 1 ༻¨*:·
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“You know you guys don’t really look alike.” You say as you bring your hands up and rearrange the tuft of hair to your liking, you hum when the other wise spiky persistent hair bends obediently.
While in-front of you there was a younger dark haired boy, face completely pink but doesn’t dare let any part of his body move from your touch. “We aren’t related so we shouldn’t look alike.” Fushiguro tries to act as normal as ever.
“You know he has been introducing himself as your dad in your PTAs.” you pull away with a smile. “Satoru says they get so shocked and think he is a teen-dad.” You laugh as you trail back to the memory, Gojo’s snarky comment on ‘If I’m Megumi’s dad then you’re his mom; Which makes you my wife~’ remains unsaid.
When you pull away, Fushiguro finally feels his body release tension and finally he lets out a sigh. He hopes Tsumiki comes back finishing her club meeting soon.
“Why are you sighing like a old man, Megumi?” You get up from cushion floor as you then proceed to sit on the nearby sofa and cross you legs, giving him a teasing smile.
Fushiguro looks away from you with a huff. “Just a small headache.” and maybe even a chest pain. Both caused by you.
You hum as you then let out a ‘ah—!’ as you then proceeded to smile and pat on you nap. “Come here.” You smile proudly.
Poor Fushiguro Megumi’s face burst into steam from the heat radiating off his face. “Like hell I can!”
“Megumi…” you said in a soft tone which make the younger boy flatter. “I’m not teasing, I’ll just give you a massage.”
The boy huffs and sits infront of his feet as he felt your gentle soft hands guide his head to you lap. His frown dissipates as he then lets out a sigh of relief upon the movement of your hands near his temple.
You let out a giggle to how Fushiguro was acting like an old man, maybe this is what happens to people who deal with Gojo on a daily basis. “How’s school? from next year you’re going to be a middle school student,megumi.”
It’s been a while since you visited, already finished with highschool and now acting as an active jujutsu sorcerer has kept you busy but still then you would always visit once a week, make them a good meal while also bringing in some groceries. You didn’t have to but you’ve always done it, your soul was so unwavering it warmed Fushiguro to his very core.
“I’ve been using the notes you’ve prepared for me so school is pretty smooth for now…” Fushiguro finally replied as he still doesn’t move his head from your lap, his eyes closed and arms crossed infront of him, cheeks with a rosey color.
“Thank god.” You beam, Fushiguro watches from the crack of his eyes. “It was actually my notes from back in the days. I always kept them with me.”
Fushiguro closes his eyes, the more he watches you the more he feels his heart constrict as if it ran a marathon. “y/n, I want to say… thank you—ugh!” The poor boy’s was pushed off your lap with a sudden but controlled push. “What the hell?”
“I’m so tiredddddd, y/n.” The voice almost purrs as there is a tuft of white hair on the plush of your thighs. You blink at Gojo who seemed to be looking at you from behind his bandages with a wide smiles plastered on his face. “Gimme a massage too~”
Fushiguro knows this scene too well.
Perhaps he wasn’t as subtle as he thought but any time he was too close to you, Gojo who is in his early 20s and almost a decade older than him always manages to throw him away. And now he watches you frowning and reprimanded Gojo for acting like that.
He sighs. “I’m leaving.”
You and Gojo quickly turn to his direction. You had a confused look to your face then it contours to something of worry. Was he mad at Gojo? Fushiguro could almost hear your thoughts.
Where as Gojo who currently has his head on his lap and one of his hand playing with your finger, give him a confused look before it turns into a full blown egotistical. ‘I won!’ smirk.
“Got homework.” Fushiguro turns and leaves.
“Satoru, you’re always acting like that to Megumi.” You say as you tear your hands away from his and then give his head a light ‘chop’.
“Then he shouldn’t touch what’s mine.” He huffs , as he closed his eyes and forms a sassy pout.
“What’s mine?” You question. “Did Megumi take something of yours?“
“No…Right now, it’s still with me.” Gojo opens his eyes, which makes your breath hitch. his eyes ever so beautiful as the evening glow assist its glimmer. “You know what I mean right?”
Your breath hitches and suddenly the room is much hotter,your heart races as it blooms in warmth.
Gojo’s face softens as he looks at your flustered face. “What I mean is… I’m in lo—UGH!”
“Sorry”
Suddenly a new enters the room, the same dark haired boy who left moments earlier. “My pencil slipped from my hand.”
“Megumi, you brat!” Gojo stands up, with currently a pencil stabbed on his forehead. Megumi threw it because he knew Gojo wouldn’t even think of letting his infinity be active when he was near you after all.
Gojo watches as Fushiguro gives him his usual deadpanned look before it turns into a full blown egotistical. ‘Hah! As if I’ll let you confess on my watch’ smile.
Taglist ˙✧˖° 🫧 ⋆。— @lysaray @thirtykiwis @sillysillygoofygoose @hotvinimon @olivianyx @anan-baban @shirabaee @genticcs
Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? out other here
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puppy-steve · 5 months
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steddie ☆ G ☆ wc: 682 ☆ cw: teen dads
a little snippet from my teen dads au: tiny hands, little feet
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The bell on the counter dings. Steve tilts his head back with a sigh and gives Robin a sidelong look across the table.
"Nope," she says, flipping through the only magazine they have in the place. They can probably recite the whole issue from memory by now. "I got the last three people. Go work your Harrington charm so I can add another 'you suck' tally."
The bell dings again and Steve groans, kicking Robin's foot as he rounds the table and opens the door leading behind the counter.
The lobby is empty. Great, they're getting ding-dong-ditch'd now. Fan-fucking-tastic.
He rolls his eyes and is about to snatch the bell off the counter and hide it when a tiny hand reaches up and taps it again. Steve holds back a snort, because he knows that tiny hand.
He steps up to the counter and sure enough, there stands a toddler with wild chestnut curls pulled into little pigtails, wearing a pink My Little Pony t-shirt and bright blue shorts.
Steve glances around the lobby and doesn't see anybody else in sight, which means...
He puts on his best customer service voice and gives the girl a smile. "Ahoy there, little lady. How'd you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with with me?"
Of course, she doesn't completely understand any of that. She just blinks up at him and points at the pictures of ice cream.
"St'awb'y, p'ease."
Steve nods. "A wise choice, m'lady." He slides the cooler open and gives his scoop a twirl, making her giggle.
The door opens and Robin slowly peeks her head out, looking flabbergasted. "Who in the world are you talking to? Why are you talking like that?"
"Careful, Buckley," Steve nods towards the child. "There's a princess in our midst. Wouldn't want her to throw you in the dungeon for disrespect."
Robin looks at the tiny child who is watching Steve with rapt attention.
"I think she's more interested in the ice cream, actually."
Steve gasps as he puts a couple scoops into a small bowl. "Hearsay, Buckley. She'll have your head for that." He takes the bowl around the counter and kneels on one knee as if he's a knight, presenting it to her with a bowed head. "The finest strawberry ice cream in all the land, your highness."
She claps her hands and her shoes light up as she stomps her feet. "St'aw'by! T'ank, Da'y!"
Robin's eyes widen and her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. "Daddy?"
"Sailor!"
Eddie Munson comes sliding into the lobby, his shoes squeaking on the waxed floor. He catches himself before he face plants and gasps like he's ran here from the other side of the mall.
"Sailor, honey, you can't run off like that!" he says around gulps of air. "About gave me a heart attack."
Steve picks the child up and scrunches his nose. "I think it might be time to give those backpack leashes a try," he tells him. "She's getting too curious for her own good."
"Wayne said I did the same thing at her age. Said it used to drive my mama crazy, trying to keep track of me." Sailor's chin is sticky with ice cream and Eddie wipes some of it off with his thumb. "You're taking after your old man a little too much, bug."
Sailor holds out her spoon. "Da'y try?"
Eddie can only huff a laugh and shake his head fondly. "Thank you, baby." He leans forward to take a bite of the offered ice cream and then turns to Steve to give him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I swear I had a hold on her. She saw the Scoops sign and then took off before I could catch her."
Steve sighs. "It looks like we're gonna have a little Road Runner on our hands."
"She definitely takes after you in that department, sweetheart," Eddie grins.
A throat clearing interrupts them and they both look at where Robin has been silently watching the three of them.
"Someone care to fill me in on all of this?"
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more snippets from this au
taglist: @yournowheregirl @judasofsuburbia @steves-strapcollection @thefreakandthehair @stobinesque @tboygareth @starrystevie @inairbinad @flowercrowngods @starryeyedjanai @matchingbatbites @corrodedbisexual @theheadlessphilosopher @sidekick-hero @patchworkgargoyle @sentient-trash @wormdebut @legitcookie @corrodedcoughin @steddieas-shegoes @wynnyfryd
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welcometogrouchland · 1 month
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It's mostly the fault of poor editorial practices that B&R is so heavily misaligned continuity-wise w/ the main batman book. But walk with me for a minute:
You are Damian Wayne. You are 14 years old and have had one of the worst years of your life last year. Which is saying a lot.
Your brother, one of the people you were closest to, got shot in the head and forgot who you were. Your best friend went to space for a week and came back 3/4 years older than you, taking away your previously established dynamic and leaving you to have to bond all over again w/ a new one. You may or may not have gone wayyy too far with your new superhero team, who now all hate you, because you fucked up big time*
And worst of all, when you do try to do the right thing, you end up forced to watch Alfred, a father figure to you, the only one at your birthday that year, the person who has been so patient, loving and trusting with you, even when you probably didnt deserve it...die. you watch him die, and feel it's all your fault.
And your dad never corrects you on that last point. So you run away.
First to your mom who can tell something's up with you, she knows you don't give up that easy, you decide not to stay with her because you remembered how actually, neither of your parents are good at communicating with you despite their best efforts, so now you're 14 and flying solo.
And you do fly solo. For a while. Make new friends, new enemies. You think you're better off for it. You've got your best friend and your brother back. They're not around as much. It's fine.
And eventually your dad tells you that it's not your fault that Alfred died. Bit late but it's appreciated. Really. There's a bit of a hiccup where you get possessed by a demon and wage war against your father but after that, all in all, you two are...together again.
You start to think maybe you want to give him another chance, for the two of you to be father and son.
And in a change of pace, it works out! It's going good, mostly. He insists you go to highschool, you resist, feel like he wants you to be something that you're not (wants you to be normal), but eventually you acquiesce for your own reasons. He cheers you on at soccer and nosies around at your fundraising events with the other parents and gives you a stern talking to about your choice of girlfriend. Because he cares.
Except all the while this is going on, your dad is currently having his brain slowly taken over by an evil version of himself that he created and every time you look away he's slowly tearing your family apart (your brothers are just barely keeping it together. The ones who didn't get lobotmized that is Jesus Christ). You keep taking his side in these conflicts, for whatever reason. Maybe because he promised it would be different this time, and it isn't** and you're going to stick with him until he keeps his word for once.
But at the end of the day?
It's like your brother says. You're not the one who saves him. Broadly speaking, you've made things worse and needed others to come save you. And what else is Robin really for? You thought it was about redemption and teamwork but guess you're wrong. It's about saving your self destructive, apparently two-faced and erratic father. And you can't even do that right.
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* TT (2016) by Adam Glass is a racist ooc mess, but unfortunately it's still canon so I'm referencing here, though like a lot of works authors clearly wish weren't canon but are, it's been subsequently glossed over. Win? Maybe? Or not?
** again Zdarky's characterization of Damian is so outdated as to be ooc, and considering the way he constantly and explicitly uses it to illustrate Tim's strengths as robin, I'd argue there's. Also implications there. But the batshit insanity of the main batbook compared to B&R rn is crucial for this post, so I'm attempting to justify it. This time..
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dixons-sunshine · 2 months
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👉👈 Because your my fav writer for Dad Daryl 👉👈 Just wondering if you’d consider him stepping up as a parental figure for his niece (Merle’s kid) after he “died” and when he actually died 👉👈
I'm Right Here | Uncle!Daryl Dixon x Niece!Reader (platonic/familial)
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*GIF isn't mine.*
Summary: With Merle gone, you were the only family Daryl had left. He had unofficially stepped up as your dad, and in those eight months with your actual father "dead", Daryl was a better dad than Merle ever was. And he proved it in more ways than one, even before Merle went missing.
Genre: Fluff, some light angst.
Era: The Quarry, The Prison (season three).
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood and death, fear of abandonment.
Word count: 2.4k
A/n: I've been bouncing back and forth between fics and finally managed to finish this. Next up is I Never Lived For The Applause, and then some more young!Daryl. Anyhow, I hope you like this!
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
“Hey, kiddo. Ya alrigh'?”
“I'm fine. The walkers didn't get me,” you tried to reassure him. “You didn't find my dad?”
You looked up at the sound of your uncle's voice, meeting his intense gaze. You gave him a small, unconvincing smile that he could see through instantly.
Daryl sat down on the log next to you, placing his crossbow down on the ground. He stared ahead at the ashes of the prior night's fire, an unreadable expression on his face. “Nah. Wasn't nothin' to find 'cept his hand. He had to cut it off.”
You winced, absentmindedly grabbing your own hand at the mere thought of the pain that it must've caused your father. Despite your strained relationship with the man for obvious reasons, he didn't deserve that fate—to lose his hand because some people couldn't find another way to deal with his temper.
“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling your heart break. Despite everything, Merle was your father and you loved him. At least he had stuck around. The same couldn't be said for your mother, who had dropped you on Merle's doorstep the moment you were born.
“Yeah,” Daryl responded, instantly picking up on your downtrodden mood but not knowing how to bring you comfort in a moment like that. He'd just essentially told you, his thirteen year old niece that was so wise beyond her years due to the shit Merle had gotten into, that your father was most likely dead. It tore him apart to have to bestow that news on you, but it was necessary. What could he do, lie to you? That was out of the question.
You blinked the tears away that had started to well up in your eyes, trying to put on a brave face for your uncle. “Looks like it's just us now, huh, uncle Daryl? The two remaining Dixons.”
Daryl gave you a tight-lipped smile and ruffled your hair, chuckling quietly at the sound of protest you let out. “Looks like it. We're gon' give the world hell, ya and I. Jus' like the old times.”
You smiled up at him. Even though your father was gone, you still had your uncle, and that made you feel better about everything.
“We are. The world ain't ready for us.”
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
“It won't work.”
“S'gotta.”
“It'll stir things up,” Rick told Daryl, adamant with his decision.
“Look, the Governor's probably on the way to the prison righ' now. Merle knows how he thinks, and we could use the muscle,” Daryl replied defiantly, glancing between his companions on the road.
“Do you really want him sleeping in the same cellblock as Carol, Beth or Y/n?” Glenn questioned, unwilling to let Merle, a known hothead and former drug user, near the people he's come to care about.
“He ain't a rapist,” Daryl responded, frowning at Glenn's accusation. “And he sure as hell wouldn't touch his own daughter like tha'. Merle may be sick in some ways, but he ain't like tha'.”
“Yeah, okay, but his buddy is.”
“They ain't buddies no more. Not after last nigh'.”
Rick chipped in to the conversation, turning the archer's attention back to him. “There's no way Merle's gonna live there without putting everyone at each other's throats.”
“What, so ya'd cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?” Daryl asked, motioning over to Michonne who was waiting for them by the car.
“She's not coming back with us.”
“She's not in a state to be on her own,” Maggie denied, giving Rick a pointed look.
Glenn nodded in agreement to his girlfriend's statement. “She did bring you guys to us.”
“And then ditched us,” Rick stated in a bored tone, eyeing Michonne warily.
“At least let my dad stitch her up?” Maggie asked.
“It's too unpredictable,” Rick denied vehemently, shaking his head.
Daryl nodded in agreement. “He's righ', we dun' know who she is. But Merle... Merle's blood.”
“No. Merle is your blood. My blood, my family is standing right here and waiting for us back at the prison,” Glenn countered, crossing his arms over his chest.
“And you're part of that family,” Rick told Daryl, looking at him expectantly. “He's not. He's not.”
Daryl stayed quiet for a few moments, pondering over his decisions. Thoughts of leaving with Merle, going off and fending for themselves like the old days flashed through his mind, but then he thought of you. You, his sweet, kind, low-key badass, now fourteen year old niece who he'd gone to great lengths to protect over the past eight months. The girl who he'd been taking care of since his brother "died", the girl who had unknowingly started to feel like his own daughter, though he would never tell Merle that. And at that moment, he knew he couldn't just leave. He wouldn't.
“Man, wha' do y'all expect me to tell my niece?” Daryl began, effectively silencing everyone. “Tha' I found her father after all this time and he's alive, but he couldn't come back to her 'cause y'all said so? How's tha' gon' fly with her? Ya'd really deprive the girl a chance at gettin' her father back 'cause of wha' might happen?”
That seemed to really make everyone reconsider. Even Glenn didn't have a counter argument now. Everything was silent for a good thirty seconds while Rick weighed his options, exchanging wordless exchanges with Maggie and Glenn. It was clear that nobody wanted it, but the group couldn't deny Daryl's argument. They cared about you, and it would be unfair for them to deny you the chance of getting your father back.
Rick turned and whistled, signalling Merle over. When he stood in front of him, Rick gripped him by his shirt, getting into his face.
“You're coming with us, but this isn't an invitation for you to be a jackass with everyone back at the prison. The only reason you're even coming back is because of your daughter. If it wasn't for her, you'd be gone.”
Merle's eyes widened the slightest bit with surprise, but it soon morphed back into his usual careless look. “Well, would ya look at tha'. My lil' girl still lives. M'surprised, quite honestly. Didn't think she was built fer this world. Kinda expected her to have kicked the bucket by now.”
“Man, shut up!” Daryl's voice boomed unexpectedly, shutting his brother up. “Dun' make me regret convincin' them to bring ya back. And if ya even say one degradin' thing to yer daughter, I will personally gut ya and feed ya to the walkers. Tha' kid's been through 'nough.”
Unbeknownst to either brother, Rick, Glenn and Maggie had walked ahead to get everything settled into the car, leaving the two brothers to their feud. It was a good idea, too. That was a family matter.
“Wha', ya actually care 'bout her now? Didn't see ya stickin' 'round to play pretend with her back before the world went to shit, and now yer tryna tell me how to parent my own child? Nah, lil' bro. Tha' ain't how it works.”
Daryl scoffed and shoved past him, walking over to the car. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of Merle's laughter, rolling his eyes at it. He pressed forward and slipped into the passenger's seat, not missing the way everyone tensed up when Merle got into the car.
He just hoped that he hadn't made the wrong decision by bringing Merle back.
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You and Carl were rushing over to the gates when you saw the familiar vehicle enter the courtyard. The car was noticeably more crowded, and with one glance through the window, you were relieved to see your uncle. You had been so worried that something might have happened to him, but there he was, relatively unscathed.
Daryl was barely out of the car when you practically launched yourself into his arms. He stumbled a bit but regained his footing, hugging you tightly to him. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of your sniffles.
“Hey, kiddo, s'alrigh'. M'okay,” he reassured you in whispered tones, rubbing his hand up and down your back in comfort.
“I was so scared. I couldn't stop fearing the worst,” you choked out, trying to will the sobs away. You buried your face into your uncle's shirt, dampening it slightly with your tears, but he didn't seem to mind.
“M'righ' here. I ain't goin' nowhere, I promise,” he assured you. “No more tears, alrigh'? Ain't no more need fer 'em.”
“Well, ain't this jus' sweet.”
A familiar raspy voice met your ears. You tensed up, pulling away from the hug and turning around, facing the man you had thought to be dead for eight months—your father, Merle Dixon.
“Wha', no hugs fer yer old man, girl?” Merle asked, a grin on his face as he extended his arms in a silent invitation for a hug. “Yer not gon' greet the man who helped with givin' ya life?”
Subconsciously, you took a step back. Daryl stepped in front of you, shielding you with his body. He gave Merle a warning glare before turning to you.
“Why dun' ya go help Hershel with tha' lady we brought back? I know he's been teachin' ya some medical things. It'd do ya good to learn how to do stitches.” You nodded, understanding his underlying message and sped off, leaving him alone with Merle. Daryl turned to face him, a glare on his face. “Man, back the hell off. She ain't gotta give ya anythin' if she dun' want to.”
“Because I was with the enemy?”
“'Cause yer a simple minded piece of shit who never even bothered to play dolls with her, much less give her hugs! Ya wanna know somethin'? When tha' lady dropped her off on our doorstep, who do ya think took care of her when yer ass was too high or drunk to? To answer yer question from earlier, I did stick 'round. I changed her diapers. I bathed her, fed her, stayed up with her at nigh' when ya wouldn't. I took care of her. Ya were jus' too fuckin' out of it most of the time to realise it! Hell, did ya think those things happened magically?”
“Now listen here, bro—” Merle started, but Daryl didn't light up.
“And when she got older, who the hell do ya think took her to school? Picked her up, encouraged her to do the spelling bee, went to parent teacher conferences? Do ya think the fuckin' tooth fairy did tha'? Say wha' ya want, bro, but she dun' owe ya shit. Ya may not have been like dad, but ya weren't a good father, either.”
Merle stayed silent for a moment, the weight of his brother's final statement weighing heavily on his shoulders. “Then why the hell did ya convince 'em to bring me back?”
“'Cause despite everythin', tha' girl still loves ya. And she deserves to have her father 'round,” Daryl responded simply before turning around and stalking off, leaving Merle alone and dumbfounded.
Merle Dixon wasn't right about most things, but one thing he knew for certain he was right about was that you probably didn't care whether he was dead or not. If what Daryl was saying was true, you didn't need him. You had a perfectly good father figure in your life already. Daryl had been a better father to you than your actual father was.
And for some unknown reason, that crushed Merle's heart.
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“You found him like that?”
Daryl's heart shattered at the broken sound of your voice. It was the second time that he had needed to tell you that Merle was dead, but this time, it was real. Your father's lifeless corpse layed motionless six feet in the ground in the designated graveyard, Daryl having dragged him there and buried him.
Daryl nodded. “Found him as a walker. He had tried to kill the governor but failed. Son of a bitch got to him first.”
“I should've stopped him. I should've known that something was wrong,” you said, a sob threatening to escape your body. “Before he left, he told me that he was proud of me. That he loved me. I should've known that there was a reason to it. He never told me that before. I should've—”
A choked up sob finally fell past your lips. Daryl instinctively pulled you into his arms, offering to be the pillar of strength for you as you crumbled. Despite everything, Merle was still your father. You still had a handful of good memories with the man—when he wasn't drunk or high, Merle was an okay father. But just okay.
It took a while, but you finally managed to calm down. Instinctively, Daryl pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, running his hand soothingly over your back.
“S'alrigh', kiddo,” he whispered soothingly.
You didn't know what made you say what you said next. Maybe it was the fact that you weren't thinking straight. Maybe it was because you were desperately looking for a pillar of support, you didn't know. But before you could stop it, the words slipped past your lips—
“Please don't leave me. I can't lose you too, Dad.”
A moment of silence passed. Unbeknownst to you, a small smile spread over Daryl's face. He pulled you closer to him.
“Ya still got me. M'here and I ain't goin' nowhere, kid. Yer stuck with me.”
Merle Dixon wasn't always a good man. He wasn't always a good father either. But in the midst of a cruel world, before and after the dead started walking, Merle managed to give Daryl a sweet gift—you, his daughter. Because despite biological relations, you were now truly his.
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m0llygunn · 11 months
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Apologies and Promises (eddie munson x fem!reader)
Part 3 to Same Old Song and Dance 01 / 02 Summary: Hurt feelings hidden under the shallow guise of anger and indifference, in an inebriated state there’s no choice but to face the layers of truth.
Tropes: enemies to lovers (kind of), mean stubborn idiots in love, honestly idk at this point. Warnings: 18+! mature language, ‘bullying’, forcible wrist holding, pet names (princess, sweetheart, angel, baby), mentions of oral (m receiving), angst, alcohol consumption, vomit mention. Author’s note: I am resisting the urge to over explain why theres no smut and this chapter was needed to progress feelings (i know smut is a selling point IM SORRY... but soon i swear it'll be back). wc: 7.2k+
tags: @needylilgal022 @tlclick73 @ropickle @suethh @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @emma77645 @yujyujj
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You didn’t wait around for him to show but you also didn’t expect to have to wait around for him to show.
You’re not disappointed. Why should you be? You didn’t want him to pick you up anyways. 
If anything, you’re pissed. 
He relentlessly badgered you last night about it. Wouldn’t leave until you agreed to let him drive you to school. He was so insistent, that he nearly slept on your floor using that stupid notebook as a pillow.
You’re not disappointed. 
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“Want me to knock him out?” Steve offers and you can’t help but laugh. 
Steve was dropping off his coworker-turned-best friend, Robin, when you were walking into school. He’s a close family friend— and Nancy’s on-again-off-again boyfriend, so you happily stopped for a chat. 
“Steve. I hate to break it to you but Munson’s a veteran school fighter. He might not win every fight but he’s definitely been in more fights than you.” You say, patting Steve on the cheek as he comically deflates before you.
“Hey! I won the last fight I was in and I’ve been working on my biceps, can’t you tell?” He says, flexing his arms. 
“Yeah, yeah.” You smile, watching Steve flex his unnoticeably larger arms until he rounds up his antics and leans back against his car. “Your dad at that work conference thing too?” You ask, curiously wondering if it really is a work trip your dad’s on right now. 
“Absolutely. Any chance to get away, right?” Steve says with a somber laugh. 
“I know the feeling...any chance.” You reply, nodding your head in agreement.
“Yeah, well.” Steve shrugs. “Might throw a party, might not.” He says indifferently. You perk up at the idea of a party. It’s always the same crowds that show, you know the list of attendees like the back of your hand.
“You should, I can get Nance to come along, maybe you can rekindle.” You say, hitting Steve’s arm. This could be to his benefit too, Nancy has been bringing him up again recently and that’s always the catalyst to the ‘on again’ portion of their relationship.
“You got some kind of insight?” Steve replies, eyes studying you.
You purse your lips, choosing your words wisely. “Can't say. Bad enough I already told you my business, can’t tell you her business too, Stevie.” 
Steve smiles, shaking his head, accepting your answer because he knows that’s as close as he’ll get to you spilling Nancy's secrets. 
He knows all about your rivalry with Munson, and as much as he doesn’t like the guy, he was actually the first one who suggested sleeping with him quite some time ago. It was a joke of course… yet here you are. You figured he deserved to know that he was some sort of prophet, so you filled him in. Not in as much detail as you did with Nancy, but you told him the gist of it. 
Your conversation with Steve simmers to a lull, both of you watching over the crowd of students funnelling from the parking lot into the school. You’re not explicitly looking for it, but you can’t help but notice the lack of a certain obnoxiously loud van. 
“You’re good, right?” Steve asks, shoulder bumping your own.
“Yeah.” You sigh.
“You sure?” He asks again, turning towards you enough to gauge your reaction. You shrug your shoulders.
“Maybe a little embarrassed.” You say, shifting back and forth on your feet, eyes still flickering over the bustling parking lot. 
“Don’t be. Fuck him.” He says making you snort a laugh.
“Fuck him?” You question, smirk playing on your lips.
“No! I mean, unless you want to. But he did stand you up so…” Steve says trailing off. You try to laugh it off but it sounds more like a scoff. 
“Yup. Eddie Munson stood me up.” You say, words rolling off your tongue in a confusing cross between regret and hurt even when you meant for it to be a joke. A laughable comment between two friends who know how you and Eddie interact, who know he’s nothing more than a nuisance to you, nothing more than an incessant house fly that just won’t quit circling you. 
You never thought you’d be saying that in this lifetime. You never thought he’d have the opportunity to stand you up. 
You tell yourself you’re not disappointed, but the words sure do taste like it. 
You shrug your shoulders, shaking off your thoughts. “I should go, bell’s about to ring.”
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
It was during your second period math quiz. A timid, curly headed freshman knocked on the door interrupting the silence of the room. 
Mrs. Rotman stood from her desk, crossing the room, engaging in a whispered conversation with the boy. She turned to look around the room, eyes flitting over the students before landing on you. She turned back to the boy, whispered something to him and sent him on his way. 
You tried to pretend you were busy doing your quiz but it was hard with her eyes focused on you as she walked in your direction.
“Honey, your fathers in the office for you. Something about a family emergency. Don’t worry about the quiz, sweetie.” She whispered, leaning down to your level with sullen eyes that made your heart rate pick up.
“Family emergency?” You questioned anxiously. 
“Yes dear, go on and head down to the office.” She said, patting your back. 
Leaving behind your quiz that you barely had a chance to start on, you quietly let yourself out of the class. 
Speed walking down the hall, opening the door to the stairwell with enough force for the sound to echo against the cement walls and linoleum floors, you hurry to descend the stairs. With your mind busy, rifling through what potential family emergency would bring your father back to town, you didn’t even notice him standing by the stairwell exit until you stepped down onto the landing. 
There’s a moment before he looks at you. A moment where your heart beats faster. A moment where you’re flooded with scary feelings. A moment were you remember last night. And a moment were you remember this morning.
“Oh for god's sake.” You groan, leaving that moment behind, churning everything into a genuine annoyance because you fell for such a stupid trick. 
“Princess, funny seeing you here. Daddy’s been waiting.” Eddie says, smirk plastered on his face, waiting with his back against the wall, trying to exude some sort of coolness that he doesn’t possess. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You spit, burning hot from the inside out. Eddie deflates in front of you, smirk dropping as he steps away from the wall towards you.
“No?” He says, almost like he’s asking you. 
“Why the fuck would you think this was okay?” You sneer, voice raising in volume. He shrinks further.
“Just wanted to see you.” He shrugs, eyes falling to the ground.
If he 'wanted to see you', he wouldn’t have stood you up. 
“You wanted to see me?” You scoff bewilderedly.
“Yeah, and apologize for this morning.” He says, eyes flickering up to you.
You spin on your heels, ready to explain the situation to Mrs. Rotman and go back to finishing your quiz. You don't want to hear an apology for that.
“Shit— Princess, come back!” He calls after you. You hear feet clambering, catching up to you just as you clear the first set of stairs. His grasp captures your wrist and you get the eeriest sense of deja vu.
“Princess, c’mon, let me apologize.” He says, voice pleading as you try to tug yourself free.
“No. You can apologize to Mrs. Rotman’s math class for interrupting everyone during the quiz.” You huff, using all your weight to try and free yourself. 
“No, let me apologize to you.” He insists. You feel your heart rate pick up and in an instant you spin, startling Eddie with your fast movement. 
“Do you think this is funny, Eddie?” You spit, brows furrowed, face flushing hot in anger.
With his mouth pulled in a flat line, he shrugs. 
You know he's hardly phased by your spitfire and you step closer to up the ante. 
“No, seriously? Are you having fun, Eddie? Answer the question.” You say, burning your gaze into his. 
He doesn't indulge you in an answer, he just looks at you with round eyes. He doesn't cower, he doesn’t spit heated words back, he just remains looking at you with his stupidly big eyes. You're not even sure if his disposition is meant to soothe you, but it does and you hate it. It irons out nearly every wrinkle of anger and you hate it. 
“I know none of this matters to you, Eddie, but it matters to me.” You say, mustering up every blazing emotion you have left in you but it comes out too gentle to be anger.
“What matters to you?” He asks quietly, his face softening, eyes getting impossibly rounder. His grip on your wrist loosens as he steps closer to you. 
You press your lips closed, breathing deeply to compose yourself. Your sentiment is ambiguous, you recognize that. Whether is was purposeful or not is a mystery to even you. You wouldn't admit this matters, whatever this is between you and Eddie, never. You couldn't.
Even if you didn't leave space for ambiguity, you know what he's asking right now. Does he matter to you, does this matter to you?
“School, idiot.” You say quietly. You cover ambiguity by shutting him down and embellishing it with an insult. It's a lie, you both know it. It’s an orchestrated move at this point; he steps right, you step left.
He moves in closer to you, toe to toe, his chest less than arm's length away. His grip on your wrist slides down, stopping just before your palm, inches away from being a hand hold.
“You're only upset because I took you away from your quiz?” He asks quietly, amusement hinting in his tone. His eyes flicker to your lips.
“Yes.” You reply flatly. You lick your lips instinctively and you mentally scold yourself.
“No, you're not.” He laughs softly, eyes only watching your lips now. “You're really that desperate to finish a math quiz?” He asks, amusement becoming forthright.
He does think this is funny and it makes your blood boil. 
“Stop doing that.” You sneer but it comes out weak.
“Stop doing what?” He asks, eyes still unmeeting of yours.
His overconfidence and arrogance buzzes around in your head, spurring on your anger. You feel cornered by him calling your bluff and nothing good has ever come from that, especially when your heart is beating so fast you can't hear your own thoughts.
“Assuming you know me, Eddie. You don’t.” You snap, hammering your words into him like nails in a coffin, punctuating your words with a tug of your wrist but his grasp hardens, not letting you go.
He finally looks up at you, eyes meeting your gaze and you can tell your words stung by the mirrored reflection of hurt. He looks taken aback. Whatever he thought was about to happen, you pulled it out from under him like a mean trick and hurt switches to anger.
“So you’re really only upset because you’re here?” He scoffs, brows pinching.
“I just fucking said that.” You spit back.
“And you’re not at all upset because I didn’t pick you up this morning?” And that's all he has to say to send you into a flighty panic. You won't look truth in the eye, you can't.
“Eddie. Let go.” You seethe, tugging your wrist harshly. You bring your other hand to his in an attempt to pry his fingers off. His grip isn’t enough to hurt you, it’s simply unrelenting, a desperate attempt to finish this conversation.
"Princess—" He starts but you interrupt him, not wanting to hear anymore, not wanting to give him another opportunity to throw your own feelings in your face.
"Let go." You say, your volume raising out of desperation.
“Fine. Just fucking relax for a minute, Jesus Christ.” He groans, when you start swatting at his forearm. His own annoyance rises and it pisses you off because what does he have to be annoyed about? He’s not the one that got stood up. 
“I am relaxed!” You shriek, squeezing your eyes shut and stamping your foot. 
Eyes still closed, you listen to your own voice echoing off the walls, forcing you to hear yourself. It sounds like a reverb of hurt between the two of you. Despite the meaningless message your words attempt to convey, it sounds like a slip of honesty, a slip of your true feelings and how he’s affected them. It sounds tears short of being an angered cry.
A beat passes before the echoes subside, leaving the two of you in silence.
“Princess.” Eddie whispers softly. His voice isn’t loud like yours, it doesn’t vibrate off the walls but it still echoes in your consciousness, occupying a space hugged tightly next to your heartbeat. 
You feel fingertips ghost over your cheeks, delicate in nature despite residing in the antagonistic warland that you and Eddie have fostered together. Your heart catches in your throat and you hate it. 
Your face pinches in its default anger. You ready yourself to scold him, but when you open your eyes and all you see is soft, warm brown staring back at you, it doesn’t come. You hate it. 
He closes his grasps on your face, both hands holding you gently by the jaw. Both hands.
Your wrist set free, you pull away, storming back down the stairs. He steps forward, you run away— another orchestrated move.
Hearing yourself is too much, you need air. You need somewhere where your own thoughts can't reverb like your words against cement and linoleum. You need something to get you thinking straight.
Scuffing sneakers echo behind you as you clear the staircase, cross the foyer, and push open the door to the parking lot. You expect a hand around your wrist again but it doesn’t come. 
You slow to a walk and so does he, his steps crunching on the pebble covered pavement as he trails behind you quietly.
You round the corner of the building before leaning against the wall, expectant hand held out towards Eddie.
He tentatively raises his arm, fingers grazing yours, palm just barely ghosting your own, before you smack him away.
“No you idiot, cigarette.” You say, exhaling deeply. 
He mumbles an embarrassed apology before digging through his pocket.
“Here.” He says quietly, passing over his carton of camels.
You pull one out, placing it between your lips, Eddie’s eyes watching your every move. Flickering the lighter that was tucked into the empty space of the box, you light it up, smoke pluming from the corners of your lips as you take your first drag. Eddie swallows harshly, lost in thought.
“Well?” You snap, his eyes fleeting back to yours. 
“R-right. I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up this morning, princess. I’m really really sorry.” He says softly, strumming the chords of your heart with his words. You hate it.
“Why should you be sorry about that, I didn’t want you to anyways.” You say, trying to sound indifferent. You don’t though. You hear your own voice just like you did in the stairwell and you sound like a little kid who hasn’t quite mastered the art of fibbing. It’s a jejune lie, not even a good one.
“I said I would though, and I didn’t. I’m sorry.” He says, round eyes set on you.
The sun glimmers against his hair making the wavy brown strands look golden, a perfect match to the gold in the eyes staring at you right now.
He’s genuinely sorry, you believe him, and you hate it.
Continuing on your juvenile streak, you pocket his lighter before handing back his carton. You know he sees you do it but he doesn’t say anything. 
“Whatever, Eddie.” You mumble, taking a drag from your cigarette. 
You let your head fall against the brick behind you, eyes scanning thoughtlessly over the surrounding thick tree line. Eddie takes a step, his shoulder hitting the wall as he leans against it, still facing you. 
“Don't you wanna know where I was?” He asks carefully, a testing tease lingering around his words.
“Not really, but I have a feeling you’re gonna tell me anyway.” You retort, folding your arms over your chest, your burning cigarette skillfully held out to not get ash on yourself. Eddie exhales a light laugh before leaning into you. 
“Well, princess.” He starts, leaning in even closer. “I accidentally slept in because I was too busy staying up all night thinking about this girl who gave me the best head of my life.”
“Gross.” You scoff, hiding your smile by taking another drag.
“Fuck yeah. It was certified sloppy toppy. I think I was reborn yesterday, died and got as close to heaven as I ever will.” He says, body twisting so his head knocks against the brick wall dramatically. 
“Now you're just sucking up.” You grimace, taking another drag.
He laughs softly before the both of you fall into a quiet lull. You partially expected him to make some kind of joke out of ‘sucking up’ but he doesn’t. Only the sound of trees blowing in the wind can be heard, along with scattered chirps of birds in the distance.
“Are you still mad at me?” He asks, breaking the silence. You let your eyes flicker to him before focusing back on your barely burnt cigarette. You drop it, stomping it out under your shoe. It was a waste of a cigarette, but Eddie doesn’t say anything.
“I wasn’t mad at you.” You reply, facing towards the tree line again. 
“Okay, princess.” He sings, clearly not believing you. “But everything aside… we’re good?” He asks, watching you carefully.
“Eddie.” You exhale. That’s a big thing for him to ask of you and he doesn’t even realize it. How can you say that everything between the two of you is good when… What even is there between the two of you? Are you even friends? It's another truth you're not willing to face.
“Princess, tell me we’re okay or else you’ll keep me up another night.” He says, slouching his shoulders. 
“You’re being dramatic.” You laugh. He steps closer to you, hand raising and grasping a piece of your hair. You watch in your periphery as he swirls it between his fingers.
“I’ll never get another wink of sleep, I’m begging you. Tell me we’re okay or tell me how to fix it.” He says, tiptoeing even closer to you.
“Eddie.” You laugh again, shaking your head. The hair between his fingers falls but he’s quick to reach for the strands that fell into your face, skillfully tucking it behind your ear.
“All I’m asking for is your forgiveness. What d’you say, angel?” He whispers. You turn your head, looking at him skeptically with raised brows. 
“Angel? I think that’s hardly a fitting name.” You scoff.
“Trust me, it’s fitting. After last night.” He says, hand retreating from you to grab his heart dramatically, throwing his body back against the brick wall in a swoon. 
“Suck up.” You say trying to hide your amusement. You watch him as he continues his antics, biting your lip to hide your smile. 
He turns to you, looking up through his lashes, feigning a faux innocence.
“So what d’ya say, princess?" He questions, quirking a brow at you. "Want me to kiss it better?” He asks with a deep grin, eyes amusedly awaiting your response. 
You pause, not necessarily thinking about his offer but more so distracted by the way the sun reflects off of his eyes making them glow golden again.
He takes your pause as a yes, stepping into you, hands grabbing behind your ears, cradling your neck. He presses sloppy kisses all over your cheeks and up to your forehead, all while you protest through giggles. It’s sickeningly sweet. Truly sickening. You hate it.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
“Why’d you ask my friends where I was yesterday, princess? Are you, like, obsessed with me?” Eddie mocks into your ear startling you.
“Oh no.” You groan to yourself, flashing Nancy a preemptive apologetic look. 
“Princess, d’ya happen to have a lighter? Mine seems to have gone missing.” He says, moving on from his original remark, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. 
“No, sorry. I don’t smoke, it’s a dirty habit.” You say flatly, keeping your focus on your lunch and Nancy sitting across from you.
“Oh, that’s crazy I could have sworn I saw you hanging out in the back of the school with some guy smoking earlier? I must have been mistaken.” He says, arm wrapping around your shoulder as he throws one leg over the cafeteria bench, straddling it. 
“We weren’t ‘hanging out’.” You scoff.
“Right, right. I was groveling, my bad, princess.” He laughs. 
You look up at Nancy and she’s shaking her head, lips pursed tightly, holding back her ‘I-told-you-so’ smile. Eddie doesn't typically bother you at lunch, so to Nancy, this very much looks like him 'getting worse'.
“Eddie, don't you have somewhere else to sit?” You say, shrugging his arm off your shoulder. 
“What? Can’t come have lunch with my girl?” He teases, scooting closer to you, his knee pushing against your thigh, your shoulder practically resting against his chest. 
“I just barely forgot about the stunt you pulled earlier, you’re pushing your luck, Munson.” You warn.
“Don’t call me that.” He says flatly.
“Munson? That’s your name, isn’t it?” You laugh.
“Nope, not to you it isn’t.” He replies flatly, grabbing a grape off your lunch tray before you can stop him. 
“Is there a reason you’re here?” You say, his arrogance pinching at your agitation.
“Lighter.” He sings, eyes sparkling with amusement meeting yours, stealing another grape in the process. Turning his head, he focuses on Nancy. “Wheeler, how’s it going?”
“Good.” She laughs, still shaking her head. 
“Heard you tattled on me to Princess.” He says, eyebrows raised, a smile playing on his face.
“Eddie, leave her alone.” You huff. You feel his hand raise up your back, settling slowly, before rubbing back and forth. He leans in closer to you, face brushing against your hair.
“Gotta share the attention sometimes, princess.” He whispers just loud enough for you to hear. His breath tickles the shell of your ear and you feel your heart rate pick up.
You sit up straighter, Eddie’s chin knocking into your shoulder as you reach into your front pants pocket.
“Lighter. There. Leave.” You say, finding his free hand to push it into his hold. 
“Good girl.” He teases, quickly pulling you closer to him with a hand on your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 
You feel yourself burning hot and it takes everything in you not to hit him back with some sort of insult but you know if you do he’ll just stick around for longer. 
He gets up from the bench with a coy wave of his fingers and a polite nod to Nancy, disappearing into the crowd of the lunch room.
“Nancy, if you say ‘I told you so’, I swear to god.” You say, holding back your smile as you watch your friend’s eyes burst with amusement. 
“I wasn’t going to say I told you so!” She laughs. 
“I can see it in your eyes Nancy, I know you’re dying to say it.” You reply.
“I won’t say it… but I will say that you’re blushing pretty hard right now.”
“Out of embarrassment! That was embarrassing, Nancy.”
“People aren’t usually that smiley after being embarrassed.”
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Eddie kept his eyes on the prize all night. Not in a creepy way, just to make sure you were okay… and because he just liked looking at you. You were making it awfully hard though, the way you kept disappearing between the groups of people occupying Harrington’s infamous Saturday night party. 
His goal was to sell what he needed to sell, then he could have his fun. So when he sold his last eighth, his heart rate picked up as he bounded through the waves of people to find you. 
He would be lying if he said he didn’t get a pang of nerves when he finally found you, all alone in the kitchen, getting yourself a drink. 
Steve decided late Friday night that the party was on. He called you up and from there you called Nancy. It’s a practiced drill at this point, Steve calls a few people, who call a few more people, and the word gets around pretty quickly. Eddie got news that night, and it was a given he would sell. He always sells at Harrington parties, similar to how you’re always drinking at them. 
“All your friends scurry off on you, Princess?” An all too familiar voice says right into your ear.
“No.” You say flatly, turning to see Eddie at your side. 
“That’s funny, I only see you.” He says, eyes teasingly looking around you before settling back to meet your gaze.
“You should get your eyes checked, there’s like 20 other people in here.” You say, motioning to all the other bodies occupying the room. 
“You know what I mean.” Eddie says, hip bumping yours gently as you pour from a bottle of something highly alcoholic into your cup. 
“Do I?” You laugh before quickly shooting back your drink. 
“Look at her, she’s a professional.” Eddie teases as you scrunch your face through the burning sensation in your throat, some of the liquid spilling down the corners of your lips from your overzealous tilt of the cup. Without as much as a second though, Eddie’s hand raises to you, wiping your chin dry. 
“Why are you so nice now?” You ask, leaning closer to him so he can hear you over the music. 
“I’m not.” He smiles, eyes leaving yours to watch as you set the empty cup down on the counter. He knows he’s lying, you both do. 
“Is it because I sucked your dick?” You giggle.
You take another step closer to him where he leans against the counter. His eyes meet yours again with a mixture of amusement and shock looming on the surface of his gaze.
“You’re more drunk than you look, princess” He holds your gaze, amusement taking the reigns until his eyes lower to the short distance you’ve created between the two of you. 
“I’m not drunk.” You scoff, rolling your eyes. Eddie watches you, you can tell he’s smiling and you’re not even looking at him. 
“Where’s Wheeler gone? You were with her all night.” He asks, changing the subject. You turn your head, meeting his gaze, lifting your eyebrows as you decipher his question. 
“You were watching me all night?” You ask teasingly, a smile playing on your lips. 
“Princess.” He exhales, rolling his own eyes jokingly. The way his little nickname for you rolls off his tongue makes your already dizzy head spin. 
“She went upstairs with Steve.” You answer, letting your hand rest on the counter, pinky brushing the material of his jeans where he leans against the marble countertop. 
“I hope she’s not as drunk as you are.” He replies, eyes on your fingers as you continue to brush them against him. You shake your head. You could tell him that their rendezvous was premeditated, and a recurring pattern between the two, but you don’t want to talk about them. 
“Aren’t you just the sweetest? First you took care of me when I was sick, now you’re looking out for my friends. Such a sweet boy.” You coo, leaning into Eddie, removing your hand from the countertop and placing it flat on his chest to stabilize yourself. 
“Baby, I think you're too drunk, look at you being sweet.” He laughs and you dip your head, hiding the way his words affect you. You’re always ‘princess’, never ‘baby’. It makes your heart beat faster and your skin prickle.
You can’t help but notice how he doesn’t touch you though. He’s always poking and prodding at you in one way or another. Last time you saw him, he was all hands and kisses to your cheeks, but now, nothing.
“Did you make a lot of money tonight?” You ask, stepping in closer to him, your thigh pressing into his as you stand beside him.
“I did good enough.” He shrugs, arms staying closely to his sides and it almost makes you want to pout. He should be grabbing your hand or twirling your hair, doing what he always does. 
“You were busy all night.” You mumble, your head down, watching as you kick at his shoe before stepping over it with one foot. Still leaning against the counter, he shifts, arms moving at his side and you almost get excited before you realize he's just crossing them over his chest. You lower your hand, sitting it closer to his hip as you move to stand directly in front of him. 
“You were watching me all night?” He mocks, copying your same lilt.
“I set myself up for that one didn’t I?” You whisper, head down. He’s still not touching you.
“You did.” He replies, exhaling a laugh. You rest your other hand on his crossed arms, hoping he’ll get the hint but he doesn’t and you sigh, slouching into yourself. 
“What’s wrong, princess?” He asks, quietly.
“You.” You reply flatly. 
“Yeah, but you’re all pouty. You don’t pout. You scowl. Yell. Threaten violence.” He teases gently, dipping his face enough to meet your gaze. 
“You’re not touching me.” You mumble, words so quiet you can barely hear them yourself over the blaring music.
“What was that, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, leaning his ear closer to you. You step in closer to him, pushing your way between his legs.
“I said, you’re not touching me.” You grumble, annoyed that you have to repeat yourself. Even more annoyed when he hears you and still doesn’t touch you. You huff, pushing your body flat against his, but he stops you, hands on your shoulders holding you away from him.
“Princess, I can’t. You’re drunk.” He says firmly, serious eyes meeting yours. Your knee shakes as you try to stop yourself from stomping your foot. 
“You can. You just want to piss me off.” You say, funnelling all of your emotions and forcing them into a short lived anger. 
“Trust me, that’s not why.” He says softly, thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your shoulders. You happily focus on his simple caresses on your bare skin, but the feeling it gives you just leaves you wanting more.
“You're touching me right now, Eddie. Just keep doing that.” You whine, giving him your best pout paired with doe-eyes. His gaze soften, eyes fluttering over your features.
“You’re trouble, you know that?” He says, flashing you a small smile.
“You like it though, that’s why you keep coming back.” You whisper. Eddie’s mouth pulls in a flat line and you think you might have said something wrong. His grip on your shoulders falls and you’re sure you did.
You’re sure you did until you feel his hands meet your waist, pulling you towards him. Your hands slip up his chest and around his neck and you hug yourself to him tightly. You absorb every ounce of him you can, every inebriated sense of yours captivated and buzzing with feelings and flutters. Even through the thump of the bass vibrating throughout the kitchen, you swear you hear his heart, or maybe it’s yours, either way it doesn’t matter because Eddie Munson is holding you just like you wanted him to. 
“I was waiting for you to come find me.” You whisper into the skin peeking out of the collar of his shirt as you press your head to his shoulder.  
In the bustling of the party, you stand chest to chest, arms wrapped around each other like this was the only way things were meant to be. He responds to you through the movement of his hands, rubbing up and down your back, touching you, just like you asked. Soothing you like you didn’t know he could. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
“Eddie, you’re not doing it right, you’re supposed to just come in. I’m not supposed to have to ask you.” You whine. 
“Princess, I can’t.” He says, smiling as you try to tug him through the front door of your house. 
“You can, you did it before, remember?” You say, giving him your best pout.
“You were sick.” He says, amusement twinkling in his eyes as he stands firmly outside, your tugs not making him budge in the slightest. 
“I'm going to be sick right now, if you don’t come inside.” You whine, punctuating your words with little stomps of your feet.
You may have taken a few more shots after Eddie broke up your hug earlier. You knew you had him at that point so maybe you took them just to spite him. It made sense at the time and as the night progressed, you were right. He was by your side the whole time, never more than an arm's length away. And when it was time to go home, you didn’t even have to ask, he was already offering you a ride and guiding you to his van.
“Princess, you’re killing me.” He says exasperatedly through a smile before stepping into the doorway. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
“Jesus, just drink the water, princess.” Eddie laughs. 
“I’ll do it if you lay down with me.” You say stubbornly. He shakes his head and you drop yourself down onto your pillow. “Please, Eddie. Please.” You plead, your eyes catching the dizzy image of him in the lowlight of your room.
“Drink the water and I’ll think about it.” He says sternly.
“Lay down and I’ll think about it.” You mock, copying his tone.
“You are so…” He laughs, trailing off.
“Good at giving blowjobs?” You giggle, filling in his sentiment. His gaze drops to the floor as he sits on the edge of your bed, shaking his head in disbelief of the moment. 
“I was gonna say ‘impossible’.” He corrects with a laugh. 
You furrow your brows. In attempts to prove him wrong you sit up, taking the water from him and silently finish it small swallow by small swallow until your belly feels impossibly full of water. 
“Done.” You huff, falling back to your pillow dramatically. 
“Good.” He says, hand patting your calf that’s sprawled against the comforter next to him. 
“No. Good girl.” You say, correcting him through giggles. He squeezes your calf, before sitting up enough to put the glass down on your bedside table. 
“Good girl.” He says to appease you, smirk heavy in his features. 
“Was I good enough for you to lay down?” You ask, flashing him innocent eyes. He exhales deeply and even in your spinning state, you know he’s weighing his options. His eyes track the span of the bed before looking back at you, seriousness written across his features.
“No funny business.” He says firmly, making sure to make eye contact so you know he’s serious.
“No funny business.” You agree, nodding your head waiting for him to give in. 
“Only for a few minutes. Sober you wouldn’t want me here.” He says, removing his jacket and tossing it to the floor.
“Yes she would.” You mumble with a pout but quickly get excited when Eddie starts shuffling to lay down. You prop yourself up ready to cozy into him but he stops you.
“Nuh-uh. On your side of the bed, princess.” He says, motioning for you to lay back down. You throw yourself to the mattress with a whined cry. 
“You’re no fun.” You huff, whine building in your chest.
“I’m not here to have fun, princess. This is serious business.” He laughs. 
You continue pouting on your side of the bed, turning enough to watch as Eddie settles into your mattress. His hair sprawls over your pillow, just like before, his throat bobbing as he swallows before turning his head to you.
“Go to sleep.” He says and your jaw drops. His lips curl into a smile, eyes dancing in amusement. 
“You’re mean, you couldn’t even say goodnight? Just go to sleep?” You shrill, trying to focus your gaze on Eddie to get your glare across. 
“Go to sleep.” He repeats, smirking as he reaches his arm to your bedside table, switching the light off, leaving you both in the low glow of the moonlight that sweeps in through your half open curtains. 
“Eddie, I can’t unless you say it nicely.” You argue.
“Princess. Please go to sleep.” He says with teasing lilt.
“No.” You giggle.
“I said it nicely, c’mon princess.” He groans.
“Eddie.” You whine, hearing the annoyance in his voice.
“Princess.” He mocks.
You scan your eyes over him, the low light helping you find where his hand lays at his side. Quietly, you tiptoe your fingers across the mattress until you brush against his hand. Before you can close your grasp, he rips it away with a tut. 
“Eddie, I held your hand when you wanted me to.” You whine.
“That was different.” He replies.
“No it wasn’t! Just hold my hand.” You say, pushing yourself up to try and grab his hand where it lies on his stomach now.
“Lay back down.” He laughs pulling himself further away from you. You drop yourself to the bed, your bottom lip quivering. It’s not for dramatics though, you know Eddie wouldn’t be able to see it.
“No. I’m tired of doing this, I just want you to hold my hand.” You whisper back. Eddie says some kind of teasing response but you ignore it, feeling too lost in the spinning of your head. 
In your current state, you feel a lot of things. Most importantly, you’re confused. These nights usually end with Nancy and Steve. Eddie's existence would have never even crossed your mind, but now, all you want is to be close to him. It doesn’t help that he’s been making you practically beg for his attention all night. It might seem sudden, but it doesn’t come as a surprise to you when you feel your eyes grow wet. Your breathing starts to come out in harsh whines from your stomach that get caught in your throat.
When the first tear falls it feels catastrophic. It feels destructive, disastrous even. It feels like a break in your guard and you aren’t quick enough to catch it. There’s no snark left in the world that could patch this up right now. So you hide.
Pushing your face into your pillow, your tears free fall.
You feel shifting on the bed and you push your face further into the pillow.
“Are you crying?” Eddie asks softly, sounding closer to you now.
You don’t offer a response, your throat feels too tight to speak. You feel like you’re drowning in more than just tears.
“Princess, don’t cry.” He replies gently, all teasing gone from his voice. “I’ll hold your hand, here.” He finds your hand, taking it in his but it’s too late. The floodgates are open, set on their path of destruction, open to exposing damage.
His hand wraps around yours and you feel small. Not because of the size difference but because there’s a reason you don’t show these feelings. There’s a reason it’s easier for you to scowl and yell. This side feels too bare, too soft, too uncomfortable. It’s unfamiliar and scary. It feels like offering yourself up to impending disappointment. It feels like waiting for someone to pick you up and they don’t. 
He pulls your hair, you pull his back. He stands you up, what can you do besides pretend it didn’t hurt?
You should yell, you should scold, you should threaten violence. You should tear your hand away, kick him out.
But you don’t. You couldn’t, not anymore. Not right now.
You just want Eddie, all games aside. You want him in the silence of the night, not through the bass of the music where one of you has to move left while the other moves right. You don’t want to dance the line of whatever this is anymore. 
You pull his hand, willing him to come closer, a silent plea through your tears, and he does. He shifts closer until you're pressed to him, your intertwined hands hugged between your chests as his other hand wraps around you, resting against your back. He soothes you with quiet promises of everything being okay intermixed with his own apologies that only make you cry harder. 
Maybe you’re not the whole reason that you two have ended up here, but you’re half of it, and it takes two to play this game. If you tap out, you’re half of the way to it being over.
If you walk away and he follows, isn’t that just the game changing again? A game of cat and mouse?
Maybe all these metaphors are stupid. Maybe they’re all a figment of your imagination that blossomed as a child from the first time he pulled your hair. Maybe you’re too old for these playground antics. Maybe you’re too old to not say how you feel. 
“I was sad when you didn’t come to pick me up.” You whisper, your sob-filled secret sailing into the darkness of the room as if his chest wasn’t there to catch your secret. 
Your words are as much for you as they are for him, you couldn’t admit your hurt before, but now you do. 
Truth tastes soft in your mouth, not at all like the burn of alcohol you’ve drowned yourself in. It’s not sweet, it doesn’t fix everything, it just creates a storm in your belly. A fight between everything you know, everything you’ve done, and something new. It’s unnatural, it makes you feel sick. 
“I know, princess. I’m sorry.” He whispers in return, his hand rubbing against your back. You imagine with every pass of his hand on your back he’s helping you fight the furries of the storm rising inside of you, but with the storm rising, there is nowhere else for these feelings to go but up. 
“I don’t want you to say sorry, I just don’t want you to do it again.” You cry.
Your throat constricts as you feel bile rising. 
“I won’t. I promise, okay?” He says softly. His words would have eased every metaphorical storm inside you, but this storm has turned literal, you’re about to vomit.
“Eddie, I'm gonna be sick.”
It’s a rush of limbs and a dash down the hall. Everything pours from you, every uncried tear, every burn, every furry, every roar of the storm. Everything you know, everything you’ve done, it all leaves you. And in its wake all you have left is Eddie’s hand rubbing your back, telling you it’s okay. It’s soft and unnatural but you let it absorb you entirely. It burrows into you, finding a place you never knew existed, a place where softness thrives and doesn’t need to be hidden by the guise of anger and indifference.
Eddie brings you back to your bed and in the silence of the night, apologies and promises lay side by side, holding hands. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
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nerdysleepybunny · 5 months
Note
Hallo! im new here so please let me know if i cross any boundries.'
anywho, I was wondering if i could request a platonic philza and/or techno comfort? ive had bad few days :(
Have a wonderful day/night!
I APOLOGIZE FOR GETTING TO THIS SO LATE!! I literally love dsmp asks even though the fandom is dying off, so this definitely isn’t crossing any boundaries! I hope you’re doing better. My dms are open if you ever need to chat! :D
🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷
Character(s): Philza, Technoblade (ft. Mumza & Chat)
Fandom(s): DreamSMP
Reader: Gender neutral (you/your)
Style: Hcs
TW: N/A
Summary: How Philza and Technoblade (separate) would comfort you!
🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷
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Philza:
I feel like he’s the type to just know you aren’t doing well before you even say anything.
Like, you’re just sitting there in your feels, then suddenly?
BOOM CONCERNED DAD RIGHT IN YOUR FACE
“Are you okay, mate?”
“Do you need anything?”
“Here, let’s sit and have a chat.”
Literally shooing chat away so it’s just the two of you having quality time together.
Would sit down next to you on a couch, but probably wouldn’t initiate any touching. The most I see him doing is a shoulder pat or a hand rubbing your back.
Of course, he wouldn’t mind you leaning on him or embracing him! He just doesn’t want to touch you in case you want your space :)
If you want to talk about it he’s there to listen and offer wise old man advice (if you call him old while you’re upset, it’s the ONE time he won’t get defensive about it)
Like
He’s just talking giving you some advice about your problems, then he hears you snickering
“What’s so funny?”
“You sound so old right now, Phil.”
Usually he’d shout his usual “I’M NOT OLD/I’m only in my 30’s, mate…” (I’m pretty sure he’s canonically thousands of years old but shh let grandpa be delusional)
But now? He’d just chuckle and shake his head
“Whatever you say, mate.”
DON’T EXPECT HIM TO BE SOFT FOREVER, IT’S ONLY BECAUSE YOU’RE CURRENTLY SAD
After you’ve concluded your venting/told him that you don’t want to talk about it
You know what time it is…
DISTRACTIONS!!!
Pillow fort anyone? He’s giving pillow fort vibes.
He’s a dad, so obviously he’d just do all the work and build it for you. Again, only because you’re sad. Any other time he’d yell at you for not helping.
Speaking of sadness
Don’t let Phil’s wife see you sad…
OH NO YOU’RE SAD? NOW MUMZA IS SAD AND IS RUSHING TO COMFORT YOU
Mumza is the type to cry when she sees someone else crying, so now both of you are just sobbing together and Phil is there trying to comfort the two of you but is an overwhelmed old man and may end up crying himself
Uh… cry party?
Either you all end up making fun of each other for crying which results in you all laughing together, or you just cry till you get sleepy and pass out on the floor together.
What an interesting way to family bond.
Technoblade:
So you seek The Blade for comfort, the most monochrome and nonchalant man on the server. What a wonderful decision, reader! /lh (I’d do the exact same)
If you’re a Technoblade fan you’ve definitely heard the “it’s fine” audio.
Now I can either be wholesome and say he’d hold you close and whisper that everything will be okay to you
Or I can be silly and realistic and say that he’d pull out a phone and just play the audio with a blank face, but is laughing on the inside due to your “what the actual fuck” face.
Okay now for some actual comfort!
As we all know… Technoblade isn’t exactly good at comfort.
He kills orphans for a living, how do you think he’d react seeing someone crying like a child?
He’s standing looking at you with a look of “why is this creature screaming” and “wtf do I do”
“Uh… you good? You okay? You, uh… need a hug…?”
Very awkwardly holds his arms out for a hug, and if you accept, he even more awkwardly pats your back.
If you got his shirt wet with tears, he’d DEFINITELY comment about it
“Are you seriously ruining my shirt? How are my enemies supposed to think I have a good fashion sense now?!”
Goes into a rant about how he needs to look his best and how it’s a good strategy to beat his enemies in battle while you’re kinda just there… honestly are you even crying anymore?
You’ve stopped crying ages ago, and he’s still just talking
In conclusion, Technoblade is good at calming people down without even trying (I was literally having a breakdown and all I needed to do was listen to the silly pig man talk about Greek mythology. It must all be part of his master plan…)
Speaking of listening to his voice, here’s a scenario.
“Technoblade, can you read to me?”
“…what?”
“Read to me.”
“I’m not reading you a bedtime stor-“
“I wanted you to tell me about Greek mythology.”
“Fine. Come here.”
Long story short, he starts by reading you just one story. That one story turns into the entire history of the Greek gods and goddesses… yeah you pass out pretty quickly. But Technoblade isn’t one to stop mid-ramble. Once he notices you’re asleep, he’ll continue talking, just quieter. He’ll eventually get sleepy himself, and soon enough… you’re both asleep.
Works like a charm!
🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷
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five-rivers · 28 days
Text
My KoF pollfic! Continued from here.
.
Danny didn’t actually know that the other two people in the room needed help.  Maybe that’s what they looked like when they were working.  And, even though he really shouldn’t judge people based on their appearances, the thin man didn’t look like he’d be all that amenable to being helped.  He also didn’t really want to get babied by the attendant.  So…
It was probably safest for him to work on the printing press.  
The problem wasn’t huge, just fiddly, and if he messed up, he had his parents on the other end of the Fenton Phones to help him out.  Although how much help they’d be for something this old fashioned (not to mention, not a weapon or tool for ghost hunting) was debatable.
He sidled up to the machine, feeling somewhat ridiculous for even the attempt at stealth when he was bleeding light into the air.  
“Danny?  What are you doing?” asked Mom.  
“Fixing this,” said Danny.
“Awesome!” said Jack.  “That’s a properly old machine right there.  A real beauty.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” asked Maddie.  “They might have left it like this for a reason.”
Danny grunted and used a touch of telekinesis to reach and twist a set of screws.  With his aura flared out like this, it was surprisingly easy.  With a little more work, the broken piece - the part of the press that pressed - came free.  Danny examined it for a moment, and then its housing.  It looked mainly as if one of the bits that held it to the mechanism above had come loose from the wood, but whoever had been operating the press hadn’t noticed the problem in time to stop the pressing, so part of the piece had splintered and another had bent.  
After a little more consideration, Danny smoothed out the metal with his fingers.  
“Always forget you can do that,” mumbled Dad, still clearly audible.  
“I don’t know why,” said Danny, filling in the splintered bits with ice.  “It’s not like I hide it anymore.”
It took a bit longer to match the ice to the wood and make sure the ice wouldn’t melt, or cause undue stress on the machine - Mom ran through a couple quick calculations for that - but then, all too soon, Danny was done.  Satisfaction filled him briefly, then drained like water through a sieve.  
He looked around the room again.  The large man was there, frowning more deeply than ever, and there was still the attendant, and the work she had offered, but the thin man had left.  
He should just go on, pass his work to the attendant, and start exploring the library, but…  He was…  How did he feel worse than before?
He had to help. 
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celepom · 1 year
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For Transgender Day of Visibility, here’s several books about Gender that I haven’t recommended before (I Think)!
Fine: A Comic About Gender
By Rhea Ewing
As graphic artist Rhea Ewing neared college graduation in 2012, they became consumed by the question: What is gender? This obsession sparked a quest in which they eagerly approached both friends and strangers in their quiet Midwest town for interviews to turn into comics. A decade later, this project exploded into a sweeping portrait of the intricacies of gender expression with interviewees from all over the country. Questions such as “How do you Identify” produced fiercely honest stories of dealing with adolescence, taking hormones, changing pronouns—and how these experiences can differ, often drastically, depending on culture, race, and religion. Amidst beautifully rendered scenes emerges Ewing’s own story of growing up in rural Kentucky, grappling with their identity as a teenager, and ultimately finding themself through art—and by creating something this very fine. Tender and wise, inclusive and inviting, Fine is an indispensable account for anyone eager to define gender in their own terms. 
Galaxy: The Prettiest Star 
By Jadzia Axelrod & Jess Taylor (Illustrator)
It takes strength to live as your true self, and one alien princess disguised as a human boy is about to test her power. A vibrant story about gender identity, romance, and shining as bright as the stars. Taylor Barzelay has the perfect life. Good looks, good grades, a starting position on the basketball team, a loving family, even an adorable corgi. Every day in Taylor’s life is perfect. And every day is torture. Taylor is actually the Galaxy Crowned, an alien princess from the planet Cyandii, and one of the few survivors of an intergalactic war. For six long, painful years, Taylor has accepted her duty to remain in hiding as a boy on Earth. That all changes when Taylor meets Metropolis girl Katherine “call me Kat” Silverberg, whose confidence is electrifying. Suddenly, Taylor no longer wants to hide, even if exposing her true identity could attract her greatest enemies. From the charming and brilliant mind behind the popular podcast The Voice of Free Planet X, Jadzia Axelrod, and with stunningly colorful artwork by Jess Taylor comes the story of a girl in hiding who must face her fears to see herself as others see her: the prettiest star.
To Strip the Flesh
By Oto Toda
A moving collection of six short stories that explores what must be stripped away to find the truth and celebrates the beauty of embracing who you are. Chiaki Ogawa has never doubted that he is a boy, although the rest of the world has not been as kind. Bound by his mother’s dying wish, Chiaki tries to be a good daughter to his ailing father. When the burden becomes too great, Chiaki sets out to remake himself in his own image and discovers more than just personal freedom with his transition—he finds understanding from the people who matter most.
Sir Callie and the Champions of Helston 
By Esme Symes-Smith
In a magical medieval world filled with dragons, shape-shifters, and witches, a twelve-year-old hero will search for their place as an impending war threatens. A thrilling middle-grade series opener that stars a nonbinary tween and explores identity and gender amid sword fights. My name is Callie, and I'm not a girl. I am here as Papa's squire, and I want to train as a knight. In a world where girls learn magic and boys train as knights, twelve-year-old nonbinary Callie doesn't fit in anywhere. And you know what? That's just fine. Callie has always known exactly what they want to be, and they're not about to let a silly thing like gender rules stand in their way. When their ex-hero dad is summoned back to the royal capital of Helston to train a hopeless crown prince as war looms, Callie lunges at the opportunity to finally prove themself worthy to Helston's great and powerful. Except the intolerant great and powerful look at Callie and only see girl. Trapped in Helston's rigid hierarchy, Callie discovers they aren't alone--there's Elowen, the chancellor's brilliant daughter, whose unparalleled power is being stifled; Edwyn, Elowen's twin brother, locked in a desperate fight to win his father's approval; and Willow, the crown prince who was never meant to be king. In this start to an epic series packed with action, humor, and heart, Callie and their new friends quickly find themselves embedded in an ancient war--the only hope to defeat the dragons and witches outside the kingdom lies in first defeating the bigotry within.
I Think I Turned My Childhood Friend Into a Girl 
By Azusa Banjo
It's a familiar story: a popular high school student gives their plain friend a makeover and transforms their life. But this time, the path to a new life isn't quite so straight and narrow. Kenshirou Midou has loved cosmetics all his life, keeping his obsession secret from almost everyone except for his childhood friend Hiura Mihate. One day, Kenshirou gets permission to practice applying makeup on Hiura, and the results are earth-shattering: Hiura's appearance transforms from a plain, undersized boy to a pretty, petite girl, and Kenshirou discovers just how freeing it is to apply his passion! Yet he's not the only one who finds the process liberating. Hiura likes the makeup, and the subsequent dress-up in feminine clothes, and decides to start wearing the girls' uniform to school. Kenshirou doesn't understand if he's unlocked something in Hiura, or if he's simply seeing a new side to his childhood buddy that he never noticed before. What are these feelings bubbling between them now--is this attraction truly new?
My Androgynous Boyfriend 
By Tamekou Wako and her androgynous boyfriend don't exactly have the most traditional of relationships. She spends her days working hard in the world of publishing, while he spends his time obsessing over fashion and makeup--all with the goal of making himself beautiful just for her. This romantic slice-of-life story is about love, relationships, and breaking with tradition!
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riswippiesx · 4 months
Text
Drive you insane | Geto Suguru x Fem! Reader[Fall out AU]
•part one
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Theme: Mature(MDNI), 18+ NSFW
Fic TW: dark content! smut, world building, twisted morals, meteor fall out, world destroy, corruption, evil plans, conversation for world domination, foul language, looking down of the poor people, degradation, face slapping, slut shaming, spanking, unprotected sex(don't do this irl), fucking in a open place (but no body sees), teasing(a lot), creampie, breeding, mention of starting a family, porn with plot, not proof read !
Ch TW: Meteor attack, world destroy, uneven social systems, hate towards poors, death and injury, scams and plotting, foul language, barging into an oral sex, insult, fantasy, aroused thoughts, hint of masturbation etc.
Summary: You were respected in your world for being a savior during the meteor fall out but you had different plans which no one knew untill another heroic personality appeared to help the poor people. You thought would get rid of him but he knew everything about your little plan, he caught you. Would he expose you? Or help you out?
Note: Tried something new this time. To read this, you need mature mindset. Reader is twisted and not at all innocent. I hope you enjoy <3
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05/08/2019
The fear of humans came true, the giant meteor, which was prophesied to hit the earth's ground soon, actually fell on the living planet, destroying a big part of asia. A few smaller meteors followed the bigger one and hit a few close areas. Despite of all the warnings and safety campaigns, many people died. The world population decreased in an instant. The ruler system fell apart. World economy was grounded. Smoke clouded the sky. Glimpse of heinous fire could be seen here and there. Air was heavy with painful whimpers and sobs.
Even in such crisis, a few classy families of politics and leaders were provided the highest level of safety with the secure houses made of the finest stuffs. A large part of food and water was preserved for them. Two or three of such families or family members survived well enough while the poor survivors died, lacking food water and medication.
You were the eldest daughter of a well known person. You dad used to be a bright face in world politics. He was cruel and selfish. He had both power and money. So he spoilt you as much as he wanted. You inherited his stubborn rude nature in yourself.
You were twenty years old when the fall out took place. Your younger brother was fourteen. If you were spoiled, he was like a little demon. He did whatever he wanted at such early age which costed his life in the meteor attack. He wanted to see how it looked when a meteor fell on poor average people. So he ran out of the safety shelter and your father followed him to bring him back. Of course the meteor hit both of them and they died. Their sudden death was tough for you to handle but a part of you was somewhat happy that you would have none in you way from then.
Your father was wise enough for collecting the precious papers and plans related to world domination before hand. So with the help of those papers and your dead father's reputation, you got your hands on the world politics easily.
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05/08/2020
One year from that day, the world government fell apart but with the help of the survivors, somehow they managed to get things together in a way. The authorities chose the powerful survivors and decided the areas around the world to take care of. You were a chosen one. A large part of asia was given to you for nurturing and developing.
You agreed very easily and took over the area. You had to put on a mask which helped you to act kind. You hated people bellow your standard but for the sake of greater future, you offered help to those "bullshit" survivors.
At first you were disgusted by the condition of those survivors, some lost their legs, some lost their both of the eyes or one and the injury list could go far long. The authorities sent a team to each leaders and you chose some employs from your area. Your team was slowly building up. You were earning people's trust and respect with your coating of kindness. You were earning trust from the the head authorities as well. They were pleased with your work. But you had hunger, hunger for something greater, hunger for all of it. This was very less of a portion when you were starving for world domination. Your father was one of the main faces of the world. You needed to be the "only" main face of this fallen world.
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As the days continued, your team grew bigger with the healthier survivors joining. Your heavily inspired them. Your soft behavior and kindness intrigued a lot of them. Your pretty face was also another reason for many young men's joining. You could notice how many people looked up at you with adoration in their eyes, some were romantic, some were platonic.
Overall it was going how it was supposed to. But, behind every eyes, you were plotting something. You wanted to snatch away powers from the other seven leaders around the world, by corrupting them anyhow. You collected papers from various sources. Since the radio waves and towers fell apart, the world connection was slow but still content. You took your time in collecting the weak points and potholes of other leader's work. You spent years after years planning, earning trusts and working on papers which would destroy your enemies. After all, the world should belong to where it's supposed to, under your feet.
Your trusted team helped you in this. You made a private team of four people. They helped you to find the papers and other things whenever you needed. They were your right hand people.
Your first victim was your neighbour leader, with whom you shared a part of asia. He was a kind man, genuinely kind. He wanted to help the poor people. Though he also belonged to a famous household before the fall out, his mind wasn't that corrupted. How boring! You used the papers about the secret scams of his family which your dad once collected and anonymously sent it to the head authority, to show how much of a scammer that family was. Your father was a savior but couldn't save himself though. To prove your point a bit more, your team went undercover and stole the money which was sent by the head authorities for the fund works, resulting a huge miscalculation in reports. Poor leader couldn't defend himself and his spot was snatch away at once by the authorities. There were no chances of mistake in a world of needs. So you appeared as a savior again and helped the poor people with shelter and food with medication. Already pleased authority was delighted by your "sweet gesture" and offered that area to you and you took it the offer in order to "help the people in need".
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20/12/2023
You were busy in checking the reports from your team about the developement around your area. Some files on the food and shelter restock was attached with the main report. You had a pen in your hand while you seated on the luxury chair of your office.
You heard a knock on your door.
"Ma'am? May I come in?"
You didn't raise your head and uttered a "yeah". The other person pushed the door open and entered your well maintained, classy office room.
"Ma'am, there is someone who seeks your visit"
Your brows got twisted as you looked up.
"I wasn't informed about any meeting today. Who is it?"
"He has stated that he wants to join your team."
"Oh. But in order to join, he needs to meet my assistant first. Not me. You all know the rule, right?", you looked at your worker.
"Yes ma'am we know. We tried to tell him all that but he isn't listening. He said that he was full of potential and you are the only one who could value it truly."
"Oh what a bold mouth he got", you grinned. "That's indeed interesting. Fine. Tell him to wait outside for ten minutes"
"Alright ma'am", the worker bowed and left the the room.
You were amused. You knew that you had some admirer who joined your team just for you. Actually you didn't mind them at all, instead they were easy to control. But this guy seemed very confident in himself. It'd be fun in taking control over him.
You were smirking to yourself as you finished your paper works and signed where you needed to. You kept the file aside when you heard a knock on your door. You checked the clock when your worker left to inform hin about ten minutes wait, it was 11:30 am and the knock came right on 11:40 am. Accurate on time ! Impressive.
"Come in", you spoke. The door was pushed open once again and there stood the guy, so majestic that you couldn't look away. Those raven hairs in neat bun with a lock hanging loose on his left side of face, those dark intriguing deep eyes and that sharp face— he was handsome, you needed to admit. And this dark ear piercing made him look even better.
"Thank you for giving me a chance, ma'am", honey dripped in his voice as he spoke. You were impressed by his physical appearance but you weren't a person to loose your composure either. You gestured him with your familiar sweet and kind smile.
"No problem. Come take a seat"
He came and sat at on the chair at the other side of your desk.
"I heard you claim that you have potential?", you questioned him.
"Certainly, ma'am"
"Very well. Care to introduce your self?", you eyes danced in hidden mischief.
"I'm Geto Suguru. I'm 27 now."
"Alright, Mr. Geto Suguru, reason for your arrival today?"
"I came here as a face of Japan"
"Face of Japan?"
"Yes, I survived by fate. So to help the others in need, I worked with the local helping teams. I'm well trained in doing the fund work. I used to work as a leader of National Public Support of Japan. So for greater help, the local people told me to come and join your team. I heard from them that you are a great leader. I'd be blessed if I get to work under you."
"Hmm. And you want me to hire you, based on your words only?"
"I have my reports and documents. Here", he offered you a file. You eyed the file and noticed the details. He was speaking the truth. While you were checking the file, you could feel that his eyes were pointed stright at you. Of course it was, almost everyone had the same reaction when they looked at you.
Those files didn't seem fake. You closed the file after you were done and handed it back to him.
"Not bad. But.." You leaned infront and kept your elbows pressed on your desk "I don't hire just by the past records. I need to see what you've got. So, you will be working a day with the jobs I assign for you. Hope that's okay for you?" You looked straight at his eyes. There was something in there which didn't go entirely with this external personality, you could easily tell.
A smile appeared on his face "Sure, I'd love to"
"Great. You may leave now and wait outside for your jobs for the day"
"Thank you"
"Don't be so thankful before you even get to know what you are going to be assigned with..hmm?", you grinned at him.
"Yeah sure, ma'am", he smiled back at you and left the office. He was capable. You could use him for your work but before that you needed to test his loyalty towards you for a few days or weeks.
You had a list for the jobs which were needed to be done, such as inspecting all the shelters and stop any of the illegal activity which some people did here and there recently. People, who wanted more than they were getting, committed small crimes like stealing and attacking. You hated all that nasty crimes. For you, those were so lame. And you needed to take control over all that. Someone had to take care of the crimes. So you decided to rest your rookie, basing on that.
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21/12/2023
Christmas was around the corner. Authorities had sent some special and extra supply for the people in needs. Your workers took care of it. Surprisingly, Geto Suguru did a great job in inspecting the crimes. He submitted his reports on the topic and it was well detailed than the average ones. He really seemed professional and skilled about the whole thing. But you hated giving credits to your new worker on the first day. So you just received the reports and told him to leave.
You could have given him a bit credit only if your mind wasn't messed with a lot of things. After getting the major part of asia under your control, you had to take in the islands around the continent. But it was big deal. To begin with the issue, your father didn't have much of the papers on the leader of those island. Moreover, she seemed really tough to deal with. You tried to work as a partner but she refused. You thought this would help you to prove the less co-operation skills in her to the authorities but they seemed not to care about such a small issue. Your personal team tried to spy around her area but she was really well at handling and controlling her territory. But you weren't someone to let such a small fry stop you from achieving what you deserved. So you were intrigued in making up plans on dragging her down at your office.
Your mood was just messed up as you didn't seem find something good enough. So you were frustrated. You leaned back on your chair and groaned in annoyance. "Ugh fuck this!" and put your legs on top your desk. You were working for so long and your eyes were hurting, so was your back. So you decided to take a break and walk for a bit outside of your office.
You did as you thought. You went outside of your office building and started to walk around fot bit, aimlessly. The surroundings were being taken care of yet those were a lot of damage to be fixed so early where huminity almost got doomed. Broken buildings fell around, only the roads were cleaned, to resume the journey and connections. You were looking everywhere but at the road. Your mind was fogged. Them normal people, who respected you, were waving at your was but you were definitely not in a mood to do the same. So you just smiled at them, not to mention, that was forced.
In the meantime of smiling, you looked side way and didn't notice the a few stones and parts which littered around. Your feet hit one or two of those and tripped. You were about to fall but a strong hand caught you from your behind by your waist. Your hand grabbed on that hand and you quickly looked back. It was your new rookie, Geto Suguru. He was looking down at you with his pretty fox eyes and a slight smile on his lips. Your eyes for once stopped at his. It didn't last a minute before you looked away but it felt like so long. You coughed and made yourself free from his grip.
"Be careful Ma'am, there are stones every where. If you don't be careful enough.." He leaned very slightly, "you might trip". It sounded more like a warning than an advice. What was that tone ! You were pissed.
"I don't remember giving you permission of talking to me in that tone." You fixed your cloths.
"Ah well I just spoke of your well being, sorry if that offended you." He apologized but you could still sense the mild sarcasm in his voice.
"Just go back to whatever you were doing." And you started walk away. Your mind was already fogged and this one thing made you feel even more disgusting. That new bie might give you hard times in future. You would have to take of it before hand.
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24/12/2023
There came the Christmas eve. With the help of the funds and other suppliments from the head authority, two of them destroyed buildings were finally fixed. One was a mart and another one was a small apartment, which would help people to get essentials and shelter. Those opened on the day of christmas. You, being they main figure, had to be presented in all the time, looking after the things you didn't want. But again, you needed to achieve as much faith as you could. So you kept up with everything.
It was late when you finished your works and finally relaxed on your seat. After staying silent, you decided to return to the apartment you chose for yourself to live in. You kept the files a side and took your house key. Then you left your office and started to walk across the small corridor. You were about to pass a room when some noises stopped you. Almost all of your workers left, your special team too. Also the room was a little conference room, which you used to discuss plans and tasks. Noone was supposed to be in there, at least not at that hour of night.
The noises were faint. So you brought yourself closer to the closed door and put your ear on it. With a bit of notice, you could hear that those noises sounded like whimpers and a few groans. It was strangely weird for you. Was someone fucking in there? But there? Really? Inside of your organised conference room? How dared them!?
You were getting furious again. It was so improper. Did some poor people break in? A lot of weird thoughts came in your head untill both of the voices started to sound a bit too familiar. But you could not actually catch it.
You couldn't just stand and listen to such nasty noises. So you decided to barge in. The door was fortunately unlocked and you pushed it open at once. What you saw was not something you expected at all.
Infront of you, you could see two very known humans. On the ground, there sat the only female employ of your special team, whom you actually trusted a lot. She was back facing you and was on her knees, naked. Her mouth was connected to someone's hard cock, sucking on it. And that someone was none other than, your new rookie, Geto Suguru. His pants were on the floor and last few buttons of his black shirt was opened, revealing his toned abs and defined v-line. His cheeks were flushed with a faint red, hair was partially up in a messy bun as he leaned back on the table behind.
You went silent for a good while. You were looking at them and they looked back at you. Your trusted employ was quick to let everything go and tried to cover her body. You could see the hickeys on two to three places or her body. She looked ashamed. She didn't expect you to catch them like that. Whereas, the other one had a smug expression on his face. His slightly lidded eyes hinted amusement.
"Ma'am..." She tried to speak.
"What the fuck is going on here?" You calmly asked. But the disgust was clear in your tone.
"Ma'am we can...explain...please", she was nervous.
"Shut up. Not a word. If you were willing that much to suck him off, you should have gone to your apartment. Don't you have any basic sense about place and time? Huh?"
"Ma'am but...he...he told me this would be fine...and also said that you had already left the office ...and I trusted him."
"You don't even know this guy properly. That's why you don't trust just..any person. Also what made you think that it'd be okay to fuck here after I am gone?"
"Ma'am....i'm so sorry, please."
"Leave. Get your as s out of my sight right now. And never show me that slutty face of yours!"
"Ma'am-"
"Leave. Now."
She knew nothing could be stated after your stern order. So she took her cloths and somehow covered herself, then left. Then your eyes fell on Geto. He fixed his cloths already but those still looked messy. He was fixing his bun. His body was a bit sweaty from the previous intense activities. The light fell stright on his features which made him look even better. You sighed.
"I suppose you owe me an explanation.", you spoke to him.
"Extremely sorry, I thought you left and I ...well..I was feeling something. So she volunteered to help and I accepted.", his tone sounded more casual than it was supposed to.
"Wow. Keep your shits in your pants untill you are in a proper place. This isn't your little love hotels!"
"I apologize. It won't happen again."
"Apology my foot! You shithead. Stop trying to mess my special team. I warn you."
"I am not. It's just she is really attactive."
He spoke facts, you knew that. Yet your nerves burn for So me unknown reason. You couldn't just stand what he just said.
"Did I ask?", You almost yelled. But your self control game was great. So you tried to calm yourself down. "Just get out of here!" You spoke in disgust.
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You came back to your apartment with a bitter mind and a tired body. You just wanted to sink in your bed. You quickly freshen up and finally laid on the bed. Your body just thanked you for the long awaited rest. Your body wanted rest but your mind was racing. What you just saw before coming back, that scene could not leave your mind. You were disgusted but somewhere in my mind, you kept recalling the vulnerable look of Geto. It was really hot. He was an attractive man and his abs, v-line..even his hard dick..you just couldn't think otherwise. Your whole body felt like burning, with some desire. It wasn't like you were a virgin. Your fucked with a few friends of yours before the meteor attack but that was long ago. After that, you barely got time to think about your sexual desire, in a obsession of power.
So, such things from a genuinely attractive guy bought out you hidden desires and your pleasure deprived self danced with it.
You didn't notice when your thighs were pressing together. Your body wanted some friction in some special places. You could feel your arousal and your hard nipples, brushing against your tshirt painfully, wanting to be pinched and pulled and played with.
A soft groan left your lips as you hands started to move towards the hem of your panties as another hand cupped your left breast over your cloth..........
...To be continued
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Phew!! Finally first part is done💀 I typed a lot lol! My finger hurts now. Haha! Anyway! Please please let me if you like this or not! Commet down bellow. Reblogs are also highly appreciated 💗
Alsooo!! I might need some time to post the next part..(I have internals at college T_T) also I need some good response in this. I have put a lot of efforts in this lol! So I need results too :P otherwise i'm not posting another part anyway 🚶‍♀️
And..should I make a tag list for the next part/parts? Lemme know if you wanna be tagged. Haha
Thanks for reading tho<333
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Note
In issue # 110 of Nightwing (1996), why did Dick look irritated (and clench his fist) when Tim told him that Bruce considered adoption (which Tim rejected obvs), especially since Tim's dad was killed (and Dick knows that)?
ANON YOU HAVE ASKED ABOUT ONE OF MY FAVORITE ISSUES OF NIGHTWING OF ALL TIME <333
Very short answer: it's the trauma
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So the thing is, this is a heartbreaking issue that requires a lot of footnoting, because the emotional undercurrents are BIG and POWERFUL but the dialogue is deliberately understated?? and Dick and Tim are often not saying what they mean?? or just straight-up lying to each other?? and they're TALKING PAST EACH OTHER because
they both suck at communication
they are not even TRYING to communicate their actual problems - like, if Tim straight-up said, "A bunch of people I love are dead and I keep having nightmares about how it's my fault and I'm guilty and miserable and lonely and avoiding Bruce and I came to your city because I was reeling and I missed you and I didn't know what else to do and now I'm scared you're mad at me," that would crack through Dick's determination to keep his distance because Dick's whole thing here is based on the conviction that Tim is fine, but of course Tim doesn't say any of that, and Dick can't read his mind. And Dick's not quite as determined a liar as Tim so Tim is able to figure out a little more of what's going on with Dick vis-a-vis insecurities, but Tim's still completely missing what a colossal mess Dick is right now, and again: this is because he's not a mind-reader and Dick doesn't tell him! And doesn't want to tell him! And doesn't want him to know! So Tim thinks that Dick's maybe acting this way because he's mad at Tim, and he tries to solve the problem from that angle, even though that's not at all what's going on and actually Dick's miserable and traumatized and mad at himself
I love it so much
So the short-ish answer to your question is, Tim's correctly guessed at some of Dick's insecurities here. Dick's not mad that Tim's in the city, but Tim's right that the adoption was a big deal to Dick, and he's right that Dick's a little threatened by the idea of Tim getting adopted too. (This wouldn't normally be the case! But Dick was kinda uneasy about Tim in the early days when his own relationship to Bruce felt very shaky, and right now Dick's feeling like he's lost Bruce again, and when he's insecure about himself he tends to slide into seeing Tim as a rival - both in vigilante terms and in terms of a connection to Bruce.)
And probably the main reason Dick's so stunned - and a bit angry - here is because Bruce didn't tell him, and although this is very different from Bruce not telling him about adopting Jason... it's still jabbing at those old wounds.
BUT THE LONGER ANSWER is important! Dick loves Tim, a lot!! SO MUCH. He watches Tim sadly from a distance and thinks about how much he loves him in this very comic! So why isn't Dick more enthusiastic about the potential adoption? Why is he skulking around in alleys being miserable and self-destructive and avoiding Tim so determinedly that Tim's convinced he's offended Dick somehow? What's going on???
Well, Dick's life has been imploding.
So to really answer your question, we have to back up a bit and get the context of what's going on with Dick and Tim prior to this comic.
I started writing about this and it got way out of hand, so below please find a guide to my four-part manifesto about Nightwing 110 and what's going on and why I think it's great:
Background: Dick + Tim + Trauma Conga Lines
Background: War Games Aftermath
Nightwing 110
Fix-It Fic Ideas
rambling manifesto is below the cut
Background: Dick + Tim + Trauma Conga Lines
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Images: a reporter is shot and killed in front of Dick in N 93; a few days later, Darla is shot and killed in front of Tim in R 129; a blood-covered Dick turns from Blockbuster's body in N 93; a blood-covered Tim stares at his father's body in IC 6
Timeline-wise, we're in The Bad Year for Dick and Tim. Dick's life has been FALLING APART. Blockbuster figured out his secret identity and started murdering his entire supporting cast: Blockbuster hired someone to attack Haly's Circus, blew up Dick's entire apartment building, and shot a reporter in front of Dick. In the climactic confrontation, Catalina Flores killed Blockbuster and raped Dick.
More or less simultaneously in War Games, Tim's life has ALSO been falling apart and his supporting cast has been getting gruesomely murdered. In quick succession, Jack figured out Tim's secret and Tim had to quit, Steph got hired and fired as Robin; Steph accidentally started a gang war; Darla got shot and killed in front of Tim during the gang war; Steph got killed by Black Mask; and Jack Drake got killed by Captain Boomerang.
It's a grimdark time in DC comics.
Background: War Games Aftermath
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Dick's slowly recovering in the Manor as Bruce recaps recent events to him (Batman 634)
Now, Dick's actually part of War Games - very briefly. A day or two after Blockbuster's death, Bruce calls Dick for help, and Dick comes to Gotham. Dick and Tim briefly interact but Gotham is in flames, they're both freaking out, and they don't really help each other - Tim tries to tell Dick about Darla, and Dick shuts him down (not realizing Darla is actually Tim's friend); Dick has a panic attack in front of Tim and Tim drags him out of danger but gets snappish instead of worried.
AND THEN, midway through the gang war, Dick gets shot in the leg and ends up in a coma for a while. By the time he's recovered enough to wake up and walk around, Steph's dead, Jack's dead, the funerals are over, and Tim - who's avoiding Bruce - has moved to Blüdhaven.
Here's Dick trying to get answers out of Alfred in Nightwing 99 (Alfred and Bruce aren't telling him anything, either because they can't stand to talk about it or because they're worried about impeding his recovery):
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Somewhere around here - presumably whenever he first learns about Jack's death? - Dick calls Tim, who doesn't pick up, in IC 7:
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In Nightwing 99, it's implied that Dick leaves the Manor almost as soon as he wakes up, after confronting Bruce:
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Dick can't bring himself to confess Blockbuster's death, but obliquely admits his own distress: "…Bruce, I'm lost." Bruce wants to solve things by throwing themselves into The Mission in Gotham: "It's just you and me again, Dick. But there's plenty of work to do." As he talks, Dick grabs his crutches and leaves. He confronts Catalina, arrests her, and tries to turn himself in... but Amy doesn't let him. As he's walking out, angry at Amy and at himself, a prisoner offers him a card.
Meanwhile, in the Batcave, Alfred's stunned to discover that Dick's abandoned his costume:
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In Nightwing 107, we learn that Dick has ditched everything and apparently joined the mob - or is he undercover? Dick ultimately comes up with justifications for what he's doing, but a lot of what he's doing is punishing himself and hiding from his life. He's in Detroit for a while, but then has to go back to Blüdhaven, where he sees Tim...
...and now we're caught up with Nightwing 110.
Nightwing 110
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I haven't had a chance to see Robin in action since the beginning of the gang wars in Gotham. It seems like just yesterday he was an earnest little computer geek too smart for his own good. He's still too smart for his own good and he can still kick butt with a search engine, but now he's a full-fledged superhero, to boot. Wonder if he knows how good he is? Not just at the fighting, but at keeping the whole thing on his terms. That's really hard to do, and Tim - he's been through so much, and weathered it so well.
Dick's been staying mostly in Detroit rather than Blüdhaven for various reasons, but one very important one is that he's been avoiding Tim.
Dick and Tim's relationship always suffers when Dick's self-worth issues get in the way, and this is probably the most dramatic moment AND IT'S SO SAAAAAD *wails*
From very early on, Dick has had a very high opinion of Tim, and - like Bruce's conviction that "you're better than me, Dick" - this is
very heartwarming and an expression of Dick's faith in Tim
very important to Tim, who tries really hard to impress Dick and (like Dick) hangs a lot of his self-worth on being needed and useful
a source of many sweet moments
but also
a source of problems in their relationship, because Dick's high opinion of Tim and low opinion of himself means he consistently underestimates how important he is to Tim, wonders if Tim would be better off without him, and sometimes thinks that keeping his distance is good for Tim so that Dick doesn't bring him down... and meanwhile Tim interprets Dick's distance as disapproval or hostility
When Dick's down on himself, he'll continually compare himself unfavorably to Tim - Tim questions more, Tim's better with Bruce, Tim's got better computer skills, etc. etc.
And that's what's happening here, when Dick watches Tim fight from a distance:
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Dick: Still, Timmy played it through nice and clean. Disarmed the perps, protected and avoided the cops, kept any civilians from being shot... God, I love that kid. Too much to let him see me like this.
This isn't a neutral assessment of Tim's skills. This is Dick castigating himself. The implication is: Tim plays it nice and clean, Tim kept civilians from getting shot... unlike me. Elsewhere in this arc, Dick's been convinced that he's "poison."
He can't bear to see Tim because he's certain he'll only bring Tim down.
... There's a problem with his plan, though. Tim's spotted him.
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Narrator voice: they were not okay
I LOVE THIS PANEL SO MUCH
Tim spots Dick before he can sneak away, and chases after him. At first he tries to tease light-heartedly - "Look at you! Back on your feet!" - but when Dick looks away grim-faced, Tim sobers and we get a bit more of his actual worries. (Tim will sometimes fake cheerfulness when under stress - both Babs and his friends comment on this in War Games and in Teen Titans.)
Now they catch up. Tim asks Dick if he's okay. (Dick says he is. He's not.) Where he's staying. ("Some people" are the mobster family.) Dick asks Tim how his step-mom is. (Tim says she's okay. She's not. She's had a breakdown.) How school's going. (Tim says school's okay too. Actually, he's dropped out.)
And now at last we've looped back to the panels at the top! Dick tries to retreat, and Tim - convinced that Dick is mad at him, which is really not the case - tries to figure out if Dick is mad at him for coming to Blüdhaven without permission, or about Bruce's offer of adoption. (Tim's self-worth issues mean that Tim's convinced that Dick is mad at him about something, as opposed to the truth, which is that Dick is spiraling and it has nothing to do with Tim.)
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Dick (turning away): We - we shouldn't be talking like this. Tim (fake-cheer, acting as if Dick means "we shouldn't be talking with you in costume and me out-of-costume"): Well, go get your gear! Dick: I can't do that. Tim (more serious now): You're not mad I'm, like, in your city or anything? Dick (shocked): NO! No. I'm honored. You have more of a right to be here than I do. Tim: Is it the adoption thing? Dick: The what? Tim: 'Cause I was a little worried about that. That's kinda part of why I said no. I mean, that and the uncle thing. I was just thinking it wasn't really all that long since he officially adopted you, which was kind of a big deal, emotionally or whatever, and to me you're like totally his son and I don't wanna step on that or anything.
Dick (whirling): What are you talking about, Tim? Bruce is going to adopt you? Tim (hands up): No! I mean, he was. But he's not now. I've got this uncle… So I don't need, you know, anything really… from Bruce, or… You, uh. You didn't know. I'm sorry, I figured he would've talked to you about it or something. Dick (turning away, jumping off the balcony): Yeah, right. Fat chance. Tim: Well anyway, it's not gonna happen, so you don't have to worry about it... right?
Dick's unnerved by the adoption offer mostly because it drives home his distance from Bruce - he didn't know Bruce was offering this, and since Dick's been thinking of himself as Estranged from Everyone Forever, it feels like Tim joining Bruce's family - replacing Dick - instead of Tim joining Dick's family. So he reacts badly - EVEN THOUGH!!! AGAIN!!! DICK LOVES TIM A LOT!!!
So Dick emphasizes the distance he's trying to create: tells Tim that whatever he does is up to him and Bruce, not Dick, because Dick's withdrawing from everything. Actually, Tim should forget that he ever knew Dick:
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Dick (pulls his hood up, turns away): Look, Timmy, I'm sorry. I don't care what he does. If he can be of help to you, you should take him up on it. I wish I could offer to help you myself, but I can't. I'm not part of this anymore. This whole thing… I'm out. Tim: Yeah, right… Dick: From now on, it'd be better if you forgot you ever knew me. Tim (echoing what Dick said): ...Fat chance.
Tim's hurt by this, and he's been pretty oblivious about what's going on with Dick, but he's not an idiot, and after a moment of hesitation he correctly figures out from this ramble what Dick's not saying, which is that Dick's feeling like he's worthless to Bruce, that Bruce doesn't value him, that he's lost that relationship. So Tim impulsively tries to reassure him that Bruce does need him... but Dick's in a lousy headspace and it doesn't work:
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Dick's walking away. Tim chases after him again. Tim: Hey, uh-! Remember how I once told you that Batman needed a Robin? Well, that's still true, but even more than that, he…he needs you. You know, not like every second or whatever, but at the end of the day, he needs to know you're still on his side. It's…important. Dick kicks over a newspaper stand. Dick (glaring): YOU- ! - you have no idea how much of my life I've wasted believing that was true. Dick pulls up his hood again and walks away.
(Side-note: forever wonderful to me that both Dick and Tim use "need" as a synonym for "love." Issues: they have them.)
Fix-It Fic Ideas
I have spent a lot of time thinking about potential fix-it fics for this comic (TRAGICALLY AFAIK NO ONE HAS WRITTEN ANY, FEEL FREE TO BE THE FIRST). An idea that I offer free to a good home:
A bit after Dick leaves, Tim winds up in trouble and gets injured and Dick has to rescue him (how does Dick find out about it? I dunno)
Tim's injured so naturally Dick's gonna take him back to his home with his stepmom and/or uncle
. . . except the uncle is an actor and not a very convincing one; Tim's entire edifice of lies collapses
Dick realizes that Tim is not actually weathering things well
Dick still thinks that he's poison and terrible and awful and (insert self-hating monologue here) BUT Tim living on his own after his dad is murdered is so bad as far as Dick's concerned that clearly SOME kind of intervention is necessary
Tim insists he does not need an intervention
Dick's sense of responsibility and worry over Tim now force him to carve out time from his major project of hate-myself-and-feel-bad to try to look out for Tim
Dick insists that Tim stay with him until his stepmom is better
They share an apartment for a while
They are both still super-super-super traumatized
???
eventual hugs and healing on both sides
profit
Alternate fix-it:
Tim follows Dick back to the Tevis' house like the little stalker he is, and then introduces himself in disguise as Alvin Draper
Dick's furious and frustrated but can't do much about this without screwing up his own disguise
Tim's determined to figure out what's going on with Dick partly for altruistic reasons and partly because he's also running from his own life, but Dick doesn't figure out the second part until way later
Dick's so frustrated with Tim being here when Dick told him to go - plus wrapped up in wondering what Tim knows, and being paranoid about what he might figure out, and hating being observed - that it takes him a while to start wondering questions like, "wait, shouldn't Tim be in school"
Dick and Tim are pretending not to know each other - or pretending to have a hostile relationship, or something - so any real conversations have to be in snatches in secret
Dick tries to bluff/threaten Tim into leaving (for his own good!!) but it doesn't work
Slow crawl toward mutual awareness of trauma which they're both super-self-conscious about - Dick hears Tim crying at night; Tim hears Dick's nightmares or sees another panic attack
??
At some point it becomes increasingly obvious that they know each other / that their story about their relationship is fake, and when the mobsters confront them, Dick says yeah, he lied, actually Tim's his little brother, and he gives some kind of stylized version of the truth which doubles as an emotional speech to Tim who gets all choked up and hugs him
and it's very touching and emotional because remember Tim HASN'T been adopted so they're NOT brothers and Tim was worried maybe Dick didn't WANT to be brothers but Dick CONSIDERS him a brother so ;_;
??? i don't know what happens next. do they quit the mob? does Dick now explain his mob-infiltration plan to Tim?
meanwhile off-panel Bruce stops Deathstroke from blowing up Blüdhaven, well done Bruce
oh wait or maybe Cass does??
anyway Dick and Tim have hugged so then there's a happy ending
In Conclusion
IN CONCLUSION Dick and Tim should hug more and this comic proves it. Look at them! They both need hugs! They're standing so close to each other! THEY ARE MIRROR IMAGES OF TRAUMA AND BAD COPING MECHANISMS they need each other and they don't know how to say it - they want to help each other and they also don't know how to say it - they don't know how to talk to each other or to anyone else - Dick lashes out and Tim lies and they both isolate themselves and withdraw into depression loneliness even though they could help each other! and would want to help each other! but they won't ask for what they need because they don't think they deserve it and they don't realize how important they are to each other
i just think they're neat. i want to study them like bugs and rattle them around in a jar until all the masks come off and they can actually see each other clearly
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wataksampingan · 4 months
Text
Very long Chapter 96 feelings/thoughts below cut coz I saved my hard-earned Naver cookies for this and I'm going to react while it's fresh dammit.
Spoilers in every possible way, as always.
Oh my God its their first official date and of course it doesn't go Theo's way at all coz he's fighting a lost cause against an author with a sense of humour I share. Thank God his people love him
Nearly 100 chapters later and only now do we start steering towards Therdeo "My angel" Lapileon from the prologue (which I still find it difficult to fathom; the road is long and arduous from Therdeo 'Face as Red as My Eyes' Lapileon we see right now)
I have yet to translate the dialogue properly, but that last panel of him honestly unnerves me (and judging from Google Translated comments in Korean, I'm not the only one.) I'm not really one for the kind of ML who is madly obsessive over their love interest to extremely difficult extents coz I'm too old and cynical to see this as a good thing in a relationship, fictional or otherwise (This is purely a personal preference; no judgement if that's your jam and jelly)
But the thing is that it makes sense. Of course Theo would get dangerous over the first woman he's fallen in love with. Of course he'd do anything to keep her now that, yknow, she's actually made her feelings known. After 90+ chapters of angsting, literally watching her die a few times in front of him, holding such huge feelings of guilt for what his blood has done to her, quietly despairing over keeping anyone close to him coz he's a Lapileon and they succumb so often to death -- this overwhelming fear of losing her is understandable. The idea of her leaving now must be intolerable, like "not after every damn thing I've been through. Everything we have been through. Over my cold dead body".
...I've had the thought quite a few times that seungu succeeded in convincing me that Theo is scary, and this chapter - while also very sweet - is really laying that fact out again in no uncertain terms: Therdeo Lapileon really shouldn't be messed with.
The thing is, meta-wise, there is no end to cold, stern dukes of the frozen North with fearsome reputations, black/dark hair and red/dark eyes - it's one of the most longstanding fantasy romance tropes in manhwa after all. Throw a stone and you'll hit a milord with a chest so wide you can fit a full dresser sideways between his shoulders and a face so stony Medusa is taking notes. And of course, his grace is going to have the reputation of Ultimate Warrior and Sovereign of His Land, Tamer of the Terrain, Reviver of the Barren Soil Now Made Fertile under His Leadership, because only such a powerful man with a heart of ice and terror would have the wherewithal to bend the unyielding north to his will. He isn't emperor/king simply because of circumstances (TM), character and/or choice.
To name just a few: Prince (...kinda? Sorta? Its a long story) Killian from Like Wind on a Dry Branch, Hades from I Married the Main Lead's Dad, Riftan from Under the Oak Tree, Kandel from I Thought My Time Was Up, Milian from Karina's Last Days; heck, even the other Killian from Not Your Typical Reincarnation Story is about to inherit a territory that isn't so great but which he will no doubt develop into a thriving land coz he's Capable that way. If you remove the hair and eye colour conditions, there are even more examples. 99% of them are said to strike fear into the hearts of men just by being mentioned in a room.
...ngl, putting my gigantic bias aside, Theo truly is among my top three scariest ML. Not even Killian (Rieta's) gives me pause the way Theo does, and I have immense respect and admiration for the way Like Wind on A Dry Branch is told (and translated). I know Killian is a powerful man; I feel Theo is threatening. (Brief aside here to acknowledge that Killian has game for days, while Theo is....... look, he's trying.)
Take this opinion with many grains of salt, but few MLs that I've seen so far (and admittedly my repertoire is probably very limited compared to others) has come close to the time Theo plain snapped during Celphi's bullying arc, and when he nearly decapitated a wholeass princess in front of the entire court because she killed his wife (again. And yes, justifiable but still, in front of the EMPEROR HIMSELF.)
Also, the man looked like THIS when the servant who poisoned her begged him to "go back to the princess":
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I say this with all love: Theo is not a balanced individual.
We already know this is a world where medieval torture is par for the course, but so far it's been reserved for Gen, who tortured and experimented on a child, and this dude who's been an accessory to Dodolea's crimes since the beginning. Theo does not give a single fuck about trivial things like consequences when it comes to Celphi and Perry's wellbeing. The world will burn if it must, just so he can find out who hurt them.
I said before that Saoirse is a true Lapileon, and Theo was the softest hearted of the siblings. I still maintain it's true, but with the addendum that Theo isn't far off in ruthlessness. You just need to make the mistake of hurting his wife or his son.
Granted, the obsession is only a problem if he restricts Perry just because she's "His". And she's proven a few times that she will Do Shit She Wants regardless of the Lapileons, Princess Dodolea or even herself (god, the way she second guessed herself so hard, only to bust back into the room with those shackles and physically FIGHT MIA OFF in ch 92 - Phineas owes her impulsiveness his life literally). I don't think the story can logically progress that way unless Perry has some sort of personality transplant. And I trust seungu too much for that. The fear is in more what he'll do behind her back (please don't Theo, we've been through this, you know what happened the last time you did things without telling her first - and even if other things went well (like suppressing ugly false stories in publications) that doesn't guarantee you're doing the right thing by not keeping her informed, you walnut.
...yes I know she also has the same bad habit of Not Telling You Her Business but she's LEARNING. I think.)
...also, tbf, Theo doesn't need his obsession to make him a danger to his own love life. Romance or not, he's still Socially Awkward and Fucked Up so lord only knows how many awkward mistakes he's going to make trying to actively court his wife 🥲
Then again, it's not like she's any better considering her last serious relationship was so awful, she literally died and went back in time. I'm not surprised, and in fact quite glad, it took her this long to admit to her finer feelings. However, now this is slightly uncharted territory, and this woman bottles up her feelings and lies to herself just about as much as Theo does. (Why are you so bothered Mia spent so much time around him? Why are you so upset that you can't do more to help him? Why are you so worried whenever he's seemingly avoiding you? Why do you look away each time he gives you puppy dog eyes, Pereshati? HMMM? WHY INDEED)
And now they have to return to the capital with all these revelations, and be within reach of the imperial family again and I AM AFRAID FOR THEM, PRECIOUS, I TRULY AM.
On a completely different tangent: I am truly not a fan of the novel ending where Theo ends up being crowned emperor. So if this manhwa ends with the coronation of His Imperial Majesty Emperor Therdeo Lapileon and Her Imperial Majesty Empress Pereshati Jahardt, I will be heartbroken. Like, I would have the same reaction to it the way Game of Thrones fans reacted to Season 8. That's how bad I would take it. I hope to all things good seungu deviates from there as well. It feels like the romance is following the novel just a smidge more - a soupçon if you will - in this season, so I'm a little trepidatious about what other aspects might follow. I remain a big fan of how different the manhwa direction is, so... GO SEUNGU!! FOLLOW YOUR STAR!!
P/S: my train of thought while reading ch 90:
Seungu is just bringing all of Phineas' personal trauma in full technicolor when he flashes back to his younger self witnessing his parents fight while his older brother sustains a severe eye injury, oh my god. This poor boy - no wonder he wanted to run so badly.
Oh god, Gloria having to try and save her children from this insane man.
Okay, so this cements that it was Theo's grandfather who was tyrannical as fuck and abused everyone including his youngest grandson? not Theo's father who also looks like he was just Trying His Best? But Gen's dialogue mentions "abeoji" (father)? Did Phineas' older brother neglect his kids or grow up into another abuser??? oh GOD THIS FAMILY
PPS: I cannot WAIT to see how the English translators handle that panel in ch95 when he finally finds enough braincells to return her embrace (that's not just any hug, cmon - that's a full on, no holds barred, literary Embrace)
I'm fairly sure she said "It's/I'm cold", but I also got overexcited because I thought she said "I like you" (???) It's easy to overlap/overhear either phrase as each other coz they sound fairly similar if you say it quickly (same energy like saying "suki" in Japanese but you need context to know if they mean they like a person or something else entirely).
Either way, it was definitely NOT "saranghae", which let's face it, IS FAR TOO DEEP for where they are right now. These two doofuses have only just begun to find out what their feelings mean, tho Theo may be too quick a study , eomma help.
PPPS: Ep 87 comes out in English tomorrow morning (for us in GMT+8 anyway) AND I WILL HAVE WORDS ABOUT THAT CONVERSATION, VJFHDJSKSKSL I CANNOT WAIT
PPPPS: it just occurred to me that all the examples I mentioned about the other comparable dukes of the North have more or less Definitively gotten together with their love interests, emotionally and/or physically. I mean if someone came up with a gantt chart/comparative timeline/line graph of when each duke finally kissed/tumbled into bed with their love interests to prove me wrong/right, that'd be fantastic but anyway
Theo has only just hugged her in ch 95.
They have shared a bed for over 90 chapters and it is ONLY JUST NOW that there is prolonged bodily contact apart from holding (often gloved) hands.
...I keep saying this because it's true: I love this slow burn so much.
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picklebunbun · 5 months
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adoptive parent! reader + kenny, karen, and kevin
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_____________★彡✩ミ★_____________
hc or oneshot/series?: Headcannons
gn reader, they/them prns
genre: bit of angst, fluff
romantic/platonic?: platonic
fandom: South Park
cw: mentions of abuse, mentions of child neglect, mentions of horrible living conditions
~~~
scenario
you’ve heard of how horribly these three kids at south park were being treated, you’re heart immediately ached for them
they were all staying at a foster home, yiu’ve decided to adopt them
their clothes were raggedy with a few hole here and there, they had dirt all over their bodies and looks like they haven’t in years
actual hc
when the three went to your house, it was basically luxury than the house that they used to live in. Touching every little thing in your house
even though he’s the oldest out of the three, Kevin had no idea how to bathe himself or brush his teeth, so when teaching him these things, it was basically like mentoring a toddler
it certainly was nice to eat something other than half eaten poptarts and ice, you actually had a shocked face when seeing how skinny all of them were
Kenny would actually like a room with his little sister, he was always terrified that something would happen to Karen and he wouldn’t be there to stop it
Karen would make you play dress up with her, since she could actually get dolls and dresses. Karen definitely uses up all her princess makeup {not that good on actually putting it on}
During dinnertime, it was really hard to get used to, Karen always got scared of being yelled at for saying anything. Honestly, “dinnertime” back at the old house always made Kenny sick in the stomach but was pleasantly confused when it really wasn’t as bad as he thought
all of their moods significantly approved, even looking and smelling better at school. A lot of students were confused on how different they looked
it would be very wise to block out any 🌽 sites, just incase
the first month/week was extremely tough, it was pretty hard to get them to fully trust you, it’s not that they’re ungrateful, they’ve just gone through so much that it’s difficult to
When they do, it’s really nice, you get to have one-on-one conversations with you. It’s also nice to see them comfortable in your house rather than stand in the corner, scared
Kenny’s friends talk about the sudden change “is that your new parent?“ “yeah they’re really sweet!“ “thank god we don’t have to smell you anymore“
Kevin really likes racecars and comic books, he never had a chance to become an actual teenager and mostly fished with his dad, which he didn’t really like. So, when you bought him those things as a surprise for his birthday, he was absolutely estatic, jumping up and down
Karen likes getting her hair brushed, ever since she saw tangled, she sang the “healing“ song everytime you brush her hair. Karen also wears her Rapunzel tiara all the time, she likes the way it looks!
It was a little confusing seeung Kennt in a princess costume, but it really doesn’t matter, if he wanted to be a princess then he can {even if it’s for a stupid roleplay} you did his make-up and everything, which was nicely done may I add
In all seriousness, you seriously saved them, they can finally be normal kids and not have to worry if they have to eat the grass to survive tommorrow
~~~
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Jackie supports the lion swap? How dare you!
Okay SO. This is not the first time I’ve gotten an ask or a comment like this, and I’m fully aware it’s a joke (or at least I think), but I also know that it is kind of a controversial topic on here! And I’ve already written an essay in the topic, but I have some more thoughts I’d like to dive into.
I used to be team Blue Paladin Lance, and hardcore on that team, too. If you look at some of my old fics, you’ll see that. However since I am a contrary person by nature, I started to notice that Red Paladin Lance was way less liked, and so I started to like it more. I really grew fond of the dynamic Keith and Lance got to have as co-leaders, both because it was homoerotic as hell and because the symbolism was fun to explore, but klance is not the main reason I started to care so deeply for the lion change — it was actually Shiro and Allura.
I’m going to start with Shiro, because he’s one of the most fascinating characters in VLD, if not underdeveloped. Part of that fascination for me is that he probably has the most arcs and opportunities for character growth and development in the show, and yet somehow he’s the flattest. He’s portrayed as very one-dimensional in a lot of fic — he tends to be less of a character and more of a role. He’s the Space Dad, or the older brother, or the cool teacher, or the kind and wise friend, or even the stoic Black Paladin. He is loved, I think, but the role he plays is loved, not quite the person he is. And that makes sense, because that is exactly how he’s portrayed in canon.
To Keith, Shiro is “like a brother to [him]”, but what do we see of that dynamic? The show has a clear sense of how a brother acts, that’s a good chunk of Pidge’s character. We barely even know Matt, but Pidge carries herself in such a way that it’s clear when her brother shines through her. And yet even though Shiro also goes missing, twice even, Shiro does not shine through his brother. Keith’s impulses are his own, developed from general abandonment issues rather than Shiro’s specific absence. Shiro’s absence becomes less of Shiro’s absence and more of an absence of a beloved leader figure, kind of a martyr, a “Shiro would have wanted you to carry on”. It is really hard for us as a fandom to use Shiro’s disappearance as anything but a plot device, because that’s all it felt like! We have occasional moments with Shiro, enough to care about him in some way, but as a figure, not as a person. Someone pointed it out on one of my fics and I agree wholeheartedly — Shiro is not shown with any flaws, and that makes it really hard to love him, because you don’t really get the pleasure of defending him, of seeing his motivations, his reasons. Not until the very end, at least.
This is, in all honesty, likely just poor writing. Shiro’s character was honestly just sidelined to a role, because he is really not that present in the show. But I am going to work with the benefit of the doubt, and see if I can use the lion change to explain why we all kind of love Shiro anyway, despite the fact that he’s flat as hell.
Shiro isn’t the Black Paladin. He never was. He flew the Black Lion, yes, and he flew her well — but he was never her Chosen. He couldn’t have been. From the very beginning, the Black Lion was in mourning; she was in no space to choose a new paladin. She accepted Shiro, and she loved him, but he did not fall into her as much as he fell into the role she provided for him. He piloted the Black Lion, but he was not her Paladin. This is made obvious in two ways: in that he never got her bayard, and that from the very beginning, he set up a replacement for himself.
Doesn’t that strike anyone else as odd? I haven’t seen the show in five years, and I don’t plan on rewatching, but I do remember that every moment with Shiro almost had this underlying tension. The closest thing I have to canon off the top of my head is the Handbook (which I had to stop reading because they did everyone SO dirty there, even though some of it was honestly pretty funny), which was released in S2, and even that incredibly early canon talked about Keith replacing Shiro!
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From the very beginning, Shiro was planning an out to his role. He knew it was not meant for him. He did the role well, but it was not his to do.
Aside from those two reasons, Shiro also…can’t be the Black Paladin. He can’t be that and himself, I mean. This part is a little more complicated, so I’m going to borrow some of my own tags from some awesome fanart I saw:
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I really do think Shiro is defined by his humanity (as is heavily implied by his illness — this is a character who is completely and totally bound to his mortality. Of all the other characters, he is the one most familiar with death, so he is the one who is most intimate with the raw fear of being human. But more on that later), but it’s my last comment that I want to focus on — “he is DEFINED by his his humanity…even as his greatest asset is the part of him that is not human”.
Every second that Shiro is leader of Voltron, he is the Champion. That can literally be his only goal — he is the head of the fight against Zarkon and the Empire. Either Shiro comes out the Champion, or Zarkon does. Either Shiro has to grit his teeth and fight off the flashbacks and the fear and the pain and use the one thing that forces him to reconcile with the fact that he had his entire personhood stripped away (his arm, his Galra arm, one of their biggest advantages as a team; his connection to Zarkon through Black, something that can only help the war effort at a direct cost to him; everything he does in this war is shoving him right back into that Arena again and again and again), or Zarkon wins. Every second Shiro pilots Black, every time he plays her paladin, he has to be who the Empire made him to be. He has to be the Champion. Once again he is not Takashi Shirogane, the person, the astronaut, the man, he is the Role. He is the Space Dad he is the Pilot of the Black Lion he is the Champion. For every second he is in that lion he is stripping away himself.
Obviously, that is something that was never sustainable. On this argument alone, Shiro was going to waste away eventually. There was always going to be a point where Shiro was not going to be able to be the Champion anymore. There was always, from the very way the dynamic was set up, going to have to be a lion switch. Now, interestingly enough, there could have been a really easy fix to this: Black Paladin Allura. She’s already a born and raised leader, already shown her immense competence, already someone the rest of the paladins follow. With her at the helm, nothing else would have to change, right?
Well, maybe. We’ll never know. One part of that is absolutely true — Allura should have been a paladin from the very beginning. Her quintessence is canonically closest to the entirety of Voltron (something that bears its own essay,; the relationship between all six of the paladins and Voltron is wrought with heavy symbolism), she is the most highly trained, she is smart, and she actually wants to be out on the field. She should have been in that armour from day one.
But Allura cannot be the Black Paladin. Allura cannot handle other’s sacrifice.
Of course this is a complicated subject. Should a leader sit back and let her crew sacrifice themselves instead of her? Must she hold herself in higher regard, convince herself she’s more important? Of course not! Teams, especially Voltron, are built with assets. While not everyone might be ‘equal’ in the traditional sense, they are all integral, and expecting sacrifices is not the stance I am trying to take here. But the point of a team, especially a team so small and vital as Voltron, is that everyone is willing to be the sacrifice, as they have to be, and Allura simply can’t handle that. She shows us this from the beginning, when she disguises herself as Galra and is taken in place of anyone on the team she barely knows, and again in Oriande with the White Lion, and finally in the piece of shit canon ending. Allura has to be the sacrifice. Every time.
And how could she not be? The last time she spared herself of sacrifice, she lost her entire people. The last time she let others sacrifice themselves for her, she was left alone, to shoulder a war bigger and greater than she could ever handle. Allura is painfully familiar with the agony of being the survivor, and she cannot do that again. She cannot and will not put herself through that again. As the Black Paladin, she would have to let her team make sacrifices — she would have to let them have their own agency, their own decisions; she would have to let them choose to get hurt and choose to do risky things and analyse and react and act. As leader she would have to trust her team to put themselves in harm’s way, and not only that, but she would have to authorize them to do so.
Like Shiro cannot last as the Champion, Allura cannot last as the Survivor. Shiro cannot even last in Voltron, and it is foolish to keep Allura out of it. A lion change is absolutely necessary for the show to move forward, for the war to move forward. The initial team was doomed to fail.
How would it change, then? What would fit? I know I’ve said my piece. I know who I think would fit where. But since I’ve been comparing character arcs to their roles as paladins, I’d like to keep doing that — what about Keith makes me so sure that he’s the true Black Paladin?
I’ll show you with process of elimination. I know Black Paladin Lance is a favourite, and I can see why. Lance has many leadership qualities, is a good tactician, and cares deeply. However, aside from his desire for power making him less suitable for the role, Lance functions best as support, despite how much he hates it. He is the one who knows how to pick up the pieces of a broken situation. He is an excellent guide, which makes him an unbelievably valuable second. He is adaptable, so he can fill in for many different roles. He can step in for leader when necessary, but putting him in Black would encourage a more active role for him; would force him to anticipate and plan for specific outcomes rather than his strength as one who analyses any outcome as it arises and works within it then. Lance could be the Black Paladin, yes, but taking him from the body and placing him in the head would be a fool’s choice. It would be crippling to Voltron, to put the jack of all trades as a master of one. Lance’s arc is all about learning to love and trust himself as he is, as the seventh wheel. Not to put him in charge of the vehicle.
Well, what about Hunk? Hunk is incredibly intelligent and analytical. He probably could lead Voltron, and did in several occasions. But Hunk’s arc is interesting because it was handled so early in the show. Unlike the rest of the team, Hunk’s arcs were solved largely in the first season. His biggest flaws were his distrust of people and, literally, his inability to fly. He could not take his feet off the ground. He was so untrusting that he could not manage to take a step forward. However his bonding with Yellow and trust with the team and their subsequent and returned trust resolved these issues, more or less, which is probably why Hunk was treated more and more like a side character the longer VLD went on. Hunk didn’t need the role of Black Paladin because he had settled into the Yellow Paladin in a way that was sustainable.
Pidge is in a similar boat. Her arc, primarily, has been about finding her family. Voltron was almost second priority for her, or at least not her only first priority. And understandably so! As the youngest she was afforded with that lenience. Her growth was about growing into her own pain, about becoming her own person alongside what she had become in the absence of her brother. As the Black Paladin, she would no longer have the space to prioritize her search for her family alongside Voltron, so her position as Black Paladin would be unstable. She is best suited in Green, where she can focus on several things at once.
That really only leaves Keith. In many ways it comes full circle — the Black Lion healing from her grief by choosing the man who ran from his Galran heritage and his power as a leader, rather than the man who chose nationalism and power over anything else. Keith is Zarkon’s direct opposite, and as such is the other side of the same coin, the one who is truly Black’s Chosen. We know this because Keith is the one who wields the Black Bayard, and Keith is, from the very beginning, the one the rest of the team chooses to follow — I ask you whether it was for Shiro that the three other humans ran off to chase in the desert, or Keith? Who was it that Lance could not leave alone? Who was it that piqued Hunk’s curiousity? Who was it that challenged Pidge to choose Voltron, rather than the search for her family?
That covers Black Paladin Keith. But what about Red Paladin Lance? I’ve established already why he cannot be the Black Paladin, but why did he have to move from Blue? For that, I bring you another few slices from early, S2 and previous canon:
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“I thought what we had was special!” “Seventh wheel, if you count the Alteans.” More than once, Lance laments over being forgotten. He struggles with feeling like anything but the extra, the unnecessary. Whether or not Blue Chose him is irrelevant — he does not feel Chosen by her. The Pilot of the Blue Lion position for Lance is as unsustainable as the Pilot of the Black Lion position for Shiro — Lance does not trust it. He doesn’t trust himself in the role, and doesn’t trust Blue in having chosen it for him. Obviously, this is not the role for him.
But Red? Keith’s Red Paladin, at least? Yes, he struggles with feeling like Keith’s second, but that is literally his arc. Lance’s development is about becoming his own person despite his own misgivings about being second-best. His role as the Red Paladin is the fulfilling of his arc, and is thus the best Lion for him, the Chosen. And Red did Choose him, mind you. There was an adjustment period, of course there was, but Red did more than let Lance pilot her. She opened up new possibilities for Lance — think the broadsword — that he could not see. Red saw his potential and revelled in it. She Chose him.
Lastly — and this turned out to be less relevant to the essay than I expected, but I do want to go over it a tad — is Shiro’s tie to humanity. I mentioned two important points: Shiro’s connection to mortality makes him the most intimate with his humanity out of all the characters, and he is undoubtedly the flattest character of them all. That is, if you don’t consider his clone to be part of his character.
But I’m begging you to reconsider. Reconsider, perhaps, who the clone is — Haggar had pure access to Shiro for a year, you remember. His thoughts, his dreams, his mannerisms, his priorities, his body. Even him at his most human, his most deranged, his most scared. She had Shiro then. She had Shiro when he had nothing to look forward to. She had Shiro when he hurt his crew to make sure they would live, at direct cost to himself.
She stripped him of his humanity — his connection to his own mortality. She took his illness from him. And who, then, did she return to the team? Who was clone? Shiro, mostly. The clone was happy to play with the team. The clone was clever. The clone believed, fully, that he was Shiro, only he was angrier and meaner, a little, and less capable of shoving down his own pain. Shiro, stripped of his tie to humanity and mortality, stripped of his compulsive need to be strained and stressed and the one everyone else can rely on, the Role rather than the Person, is emotional. He has flaws and outbursts. He can’t manage his own pain. He is is cruelest to the one person on the team — Lance — who canonically reminds him closest of himself.
Shiro, in the purest form that Haggar can make him, is flawed and self-hating. That is where our love for him comes. Not the man who pushes himself down at the same time as he sacrifices his personality to be someone for others, but the man who is struggling and can’t keep it locked down. That’s where it comes from.
Anyways. Like with my other essay, I’ll admit that this analysis is probably reading into this. The writing of VLD was flawed, at best, but regardless, I think the lion change is a rich amalgamation of the characters and who they really are.
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margareth-lv · 4 months
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🕸️ Weaving stories. Spinning tales 🕸️
There is something magical about weaving a story together. I'm deeply convinced that a community is built from a story that many people add their pieces to. So in the good tradition of a shared storytelling I would like to continue in the direction that that @sgiandubh set out in her post last Saturday.
*** *** *** I have always been baffled by the bizarre version of reality that is imposed in CaitOnly World, in which Caitríona, her Shy 'Husband' and their «Blonde Bambino» supposedly live. In CaitOnly World Santa Caitríona da Monaghan plays her own version of the efficient housewife à rebours. It's as if she's been brought back to life from the 50s, from the days of «The Occupation: Housewife», with Mr McShy, of course, as the housewife who treats his 'wife' like a goddess (even though he doesn't) and looks after their «Blonde Bambino».
Side Note: Maybe it's because being CaitOnly is like believing. It is a statement of faith. It has nothing to do with reality or what we might know about Caitríon's life. With all sorts of caveats and disclaimers, of course.
*** *** ***
Now there's another 'scandal' about Sam's 'numerous travels' and an absolute inability to reconcile these travels with a family life (I've only been here a short time and I've seen the same 'shock' a few times already).
Meanwhile, all these defenders of Caitríona's ‘connubial bliss’ and those who shout loudly that Sam would be the worst dad in the world (fortunately he's not a dad in the CaitOnly World), travelling around the world as he does, so all these wise women of the CaitOnly World don't even bother to listen to Caitríona herself.
I, on the other hand, fortunately have notes, screen shots and the memory of an old female elephant. *** *** *** Remember the "nomadic life"?
Once upon a time, we had a nice fandom legend about Caitríona mentioning her husband a lot, but never saying his name (because she couldn't pronounce 'husband' and 'Tony' in the same sentence). And as what is written about in fandom is usually reflected in Caitríona's PR, the Wall Street Journal published this long-awaited gem on 16 November 2021, during the infamous 'Balfast' promotion, of course:
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The article itself is behind a paywall, so you'll have to take my word for it. This is an actual screenshot.
But let's skip the 'husband'-comma-'Tony' sequence. Let's concentrate on the hippie 'nomadic life'.
Because a nomadic life with the Blonde Bambino is obviously nonsense to anyone who can count. The baby was supposedly born in August 2021. Outlander season 6 wrapped in May/June 2021. If the Blonde Bambino was travelling between Glasgow (where the series was filmed) and London (where he lives), it couldn't have been the Blonde Bambino born in August 2021. But who can do the maths these days?
*** *** *** Anyway, mentioning Caitríona Balfe's hippy 'nomadic life' sent the internet buzzing in Autumn 2021. Suddenly everyone was describing her travels with husband, child and possessions (how far away from the image of Caitríona in a 1950s-style kitchen apron). One small example - the article is not behind the paywall - published by the Daily Express.
Admittedly, this article, like most articles about our two lovebirds, is a strange mixture of fact and manipulation. But let's focus on the interesting content.
Beneath a screenshot of an IG photo of Sam and the blonde bambino`s hands lying on a striped sheet, the article read:
She wrote: "Today, my husband, Tony, and I and our son are slightly nomadic. "We split our time between Glasgow and London. “When I’m working on Outlander, we're in Glasgow."
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Admittedly, it's impossible to know where Caitriona 'wrote' the above (as it's certainly not on her Instagram account, I'm guessing the author apparently had trouble quoting the Wall Street Journal directly, which is a shame). But let's not get hung up on irrelevant details. Surely the hippie dimension of the "nomadic life" was important to Caitríona's PR in some way (the message: I'm not a boring wife to a boring man, I travel the world, even with a newborn, I'm an artist, I'm a hippy!).
So much important, in fact, that an article in The Guardian on January 23, 2022, after the tour's composition had been corrected (by how logically the newborn had been omitted), added Los Angeles to the "nomadic existence" between London and Glasgow.
And Villa No Ego, I think.
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*** *** ***
Bottom line: everyone, everyone listen:
Caitríona travels. With her husband. With a child (well, with children). With clothes, with blankets, with baby's cutlery. With toys. With a suitcase full of shoes. With warm clothes and a child's bicycle. She leads what she calls a "nomadic life". London, Glasgow, Los Angeles. New York. Et caetera.
This seems to fit in quite well with the kind of lifestyle that Sam lets the fandom know about from time to time, doesn't it? Doesn't it seem to make their lives consistent?
Quod erat demonstrandum. Which was to be proved.
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Thank you for your attention. It was a long text.
😅
[February 8, 2024]
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yourlocalgayfrogboy · 11 months
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Imagine 19-year-old Hawks trying to set up his 33-year-old milf of a mother with Endeavor.
Requested: No
Pairing: Enji Todoroki x reader Hawks x mother!reader
Word count: 666
Part: 1/?
"C'mon Endeavor I meant it's been awhile since you've been out on an actual date. Plus she's hot all the men and women fall for her. Except me because granted it'd be weird if I did. But that's besides the point. I told her I'd bring you around and she's even going out of her way and making enough food for you."
Hawks a 19-year-old pro hero currently climbing the ranks faster than mankind.
"Do you even know what 'no' means Hawks?"
Endeavor a 41-year-old pro hero currently ranking number 2 for the last 20 years.
"I know what it means, but I just happen to be very pressitant. Anyways, will you please come? I don't want to seem like I'm a liar to her. I've put that woman through enough trouble as is." Quirking his eyebrow.
'Damn bird' "Fine. I will meet this woman you just can't seem to stop talking about." He broke the mans rough exterior just to see him happy more like his mother happy.
****
Y/N POV
My son told me that he invited someone over for me to meet. Of course I'm skeptical but seeing his smile made me remember what this lavish life was all for. I had made a big dinner for this special guest that Keigo never seems to never stop talking about. I shook my head with smile while setting everything up. I'd tapped back in my American roots and made some of his favorites along with the mysterious mans favorite foods. One thing you learned from being a teen mom was knowing how to cook and how to work your butt off. I looked up towards the clock and saw that it was almost time that my idiot son would be coming home. "Guess I'd better get dressed appropriate clothing so I don't look like some simple housewife." I said to no one. I went to my bedroom which also happens to be the master. Stretching my back I went towards my closet choosing to dress less 'mom' like and more of a young person. "I guess maybe that flowy summer dress will be good. Maybe I'll also put my hair up in a simple ponytail." After dressing I heard the door open and I heard my son's voice along with a rough males.
"I'm home and I brought the guy I was talking about." Keigo yelled out. Walking out bringing the laundry basket from his room out. I can never stopping being 'Mom' I've been stuck in that position for the last 19 years. "Really...ugh do you have to do my laundry?" Such dread coming out of his voice. I raised an eyebrow at him.
"Well?" He looked between me and the guy for a few times and sped off. Anger quickly engulfed my figure, "Keigo Jackson Ross Takami! Get your ass back out here and so I swear to god don't give me attitude like your 13 again. I put you in this world I can easily take you out!" The teen dejectedly came back looking at me with his puppy dog eyes. "Show our guest some respect." I narrowed my eyes on him.
"But Mo-"
"Absolutely not." Lifting my brow at him.
He guestered towards the man, "Endeavor this my mom Y/N. Mom this is Endeavor other wise known as Enji Todoroki." The man stepped to me and shook my hand.
"Your his mom?" I nodded "Hats off to you for I'm guessing being a teen mom and raising whatever that is." Looking at what he pointed towards which was my son dancing with a broom.
"I tend to not question his ways and just simply go with it. Anyways I apologize for him. He's had it rough ever since he found at who his dad was and what that putrid excuse of man he is and what he did to me at the young age of 14. He found out 3 months ago and has been well doing that."
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