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#just because you love it doesn't make it not a monster
monstersflashlight · 3 days
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I’ve been imagining aftercare scenarios with the monsters and I wanted to know what aftercare is like after a particularly steamy session. Is there a monster who would be more enthusiastic about aftercare than the others? P.S. I love your work, your monster fics are so great!💖
Hi! I love that question. So, I think aftercare would depend a lot of the monster you are getting frisky with.
Werewolfs are probably the cuddliest of them all, I can see your werewolf boyfriend getting super worried about you after an intense sesion and asking you a thousand times if you are okay, they would fetch you some water (pun intended) and make sure you are nice and comfy before cuddling you. They can get super rough, but also be super sweet about it (like this).
Minotaurs and orcs are probably fifty-fifty. Like, for my OCs (kinda OCs I guess) I think it would depend on what kind of dom they are. The minotaur and orc from the neighbors' story (this one) would be total sweethearts and they would make sure to have you cleaned out and comfy so you are feeling your best for the next time (because they will want to fuck you as soon as possible). And the minotaur who is so in love with his wife he would treat her like a queen during a scene and after (like this). As per the gym slut series (?) (this one), I think the main orc is clearly pretty rough and doesn't care a lot about aftercare in the shorts I've published to this point (that may change in the future, wink wink).
As per succubi and demons, I think they would be the detached style. They would take care of you, but act like they don't mean it, like they aren't worried about you or how you feel, but in reality they would be super worried they hurt you or you were uncomofortable at any point of the session. Same with vampires, they would get extremely worried but act like they don't care about their precious human.
I think dragons and tentacle monsters would be confused about what aftercare really is, they would try but probably fail. Like, in the Kidnapped by a dragon story (this one), the dragon wouldn't know what aftercare is, and will probably just give you some jewelry to make you feel better, just like a penguin gives rocks. A token of affection to show you he cares, but doesn't gasp the full extent of aftercare.
So... Yeah, depends on the monster. I though this answer was going to be short, but I ended up writing too much, like always. This a recurring problem in my life. Hope it wasn't boring. Thanks for asking and for your kind words! I'm glad you enjoy my tiny corner of the internet.
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Another morsel of the Mafia bad sanses ... pretty please
After Nightmare decides you're now his, the other three skeletons become your bodyguards. They're the only ones allowed around his human. They rotate as Nightmare sees fit - some days, it could be just one of them, and some days it could be all three at once. Depends on who's available. And who Nightmare is getting jealous of
They don't tell you what they do when they're away. There's a lot they'll give you. That information is one of very few things they won't.
Killer's bodyguard days mostly involve junk food and videogames, which can be a relief when you're constantly around people who seem accustomed to exorbitant amounts of wealth. But he's also, conveniently, the only one Nightmare trusts to take you out of the mansion alone. Dust has his own agenda and is much too untrustworthy, Horror's protectiveness might cause a scene if he doesn't have another powerful skeleton around to reel him in. If you want to go on a quiet duo daytrip, Killer's your man.
Killer is honestly a pretty good friend. He knows how to make you laugh, even in your deepest slumps. He pays attention to what you like, he's never too energetic to notice the moment and slow down when you need him to. But... at the end of the day, he simply can't be trusted with your innermost thoughts. Not when he's so hard to read; not when there's so much he clearly isn't telling you. Everything could be fake. You have no idea.
Dust will spend his one-on-one days looking after you. He's very much the one who gets your innermost thoughts. You both complain in low tones to each other about your current situation, making the most of having someone else who understands. He promised he wouldn't leave you alone here. He was serious about that.
Nightmare trusts Dust with you the least. But he can literally taste how much of your stability and comfort relies on Dust's presence. He isn't happy about it, but Dust gets to play with you for now. But Nightmare has made it (violently) clear to Dust that if he ever acts on the soft & romantic feelings Nightmare can sense within him, there won't be room for mercy.
Horror really likes being your sole bodyguard for the day, because he gets to double as an in-house chef, cooking whatever you like. He loves looking after you. It's still difficult to imagine Horror as the monster people say he is; you know logically that it's true. But he's just so sweet with you. He bakes, he smiles, he follows. He tries to tell a joke but fumbles, but you laugh anyway and his whole face lights up. How can this possibly be the man from all the stories you've heard?
Nightmare is, honestly, pretty awkward when he's actually got time to be alone with you. He likes taking you to nice places, but he doesn't ever know what to say. He's not used to being flustered - and his stony face and frightening aura mean that when he's flustered he appears unamused and scary. There'll be plenty of misunderstandings where you think you're boring/offending him, but really, he's the happiest he's been in months.
Nightmare is aggravated that you grew to like the other three before him. Were they any other men, he'd simply have them killed or sent away, unwilling to share you with anyone... but as vicious as he is, he doesn't want to immediately frighten you so severely. And he can't really afford to murder all three of his top soldiers just because he's jealous.
... Nightmare's power grabs around the city have slowed almost to a halt.
Dream has noticed.
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chaos-in-deepspace · 2 days
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LNDS Spicy Headcanons | 18+
Well I did generalized headcanons for the boys, now we need to get into the spice headcanons. Which honestly is one of my favorite things to write. I regret nothing when it comes to Rafayel's part.
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Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: 18+ Headcanons, Cockwarming, Consensual Somnophilia, Sexting, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Bathtub Sex, Mentions of Oral (M!Receiving), Non-Human Anatomy
Blog Information | Masterlist
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Xavier
One of the kinkiest men you will ever meet. Is willing to try everything at least once if given the option. The worst part is he doesn't seem like the type at all until you're in the bedroom with him and you realize you might be in danger.
He is normally on top, but doesn't mind being a switch, especially when he's tired. If you want to take charge and pamper him, then by all means. As long as you don't tease him too much he'll let you do just about anything. If you tease him though...well you won't be on top for very long. The moment he loses control you'll be bent like a pretzel.
Xavier has more length than girth, and god damn is he able to use that to his advantage. If anything his dick is actually kind of pretty, with a few prominent veins on it and a soft pink tip. Now how he uses it...he will learn your body so well that he can perfectly angle himself inside of you and make you see stars. There is no saving you at that point.
Xavier can't say he has a favorite position when he's taking you. As long as he can be inside you in some way, shape, or form, he's content. If he had to choose though, he likes being in a spooning position with his cock buried into your heat, his hand on your hip and face in the crook of your neck while he whispers the filthiest things in your ear.
Despite having a larger sex drive than most would think, he doesn't masturbate as often. Anytime he's in the mood he might start, but if he doesn't have you with him it's not as exciting and he often times finds himself wanting to doze off. Only time he'll finish himself off in his own hand is if you're with him, or on call with him and he can hear you moaning as you touch yourself to the sound of his voice.
Xavier can and will send you spicy text messages while you're at work. He's a lot more careful with sending photos though since he'd hate it if you opened an image of him in public and had someone else see on accident. Not because he's ashamed of his body, but because he hates the thought of embarrassing you while you're working. He will, however, happily accept a spicy photo of you at any point in time. He even has a privacy screen on his phone so nobody can accidentally see it.
While Xavier is pretty kinky, he does have a few he is partial to. He likes cockwarming, especially after you two finish. If he had the choice he'd fall asleep with his length still deep inside of you. Another one would be somnophilia, as long as both parties consent to it of course. Xavier feels bad he's always sleeping, so if you ever wanted to use his body he'd be more than happy to let you. Not to mention it would make an amazing wake up call.
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Zayne
Out of all three love interests, Zayne is the most tame when it comes to kinks. While he is happy enough to indulge you with whatever you want to try out, he is very much content with plain vanilla if that's what you request. Honestly whatever works out for the both of you is what he likes.
Now despite him being fine with vanilla sex, if you suggest trying something a bit more out there, he's probably all for it. Especially if you ask him to dominate you. He's already the top when it comes to sex, even if you're riding him he's holding your hips and controlling the tempo. If you ask for more Dom/Sub dynamics, he'll research it heavily before trying anything.
Zayne's dick is an absolute monster. Not only is it girthy, there's also quite a bit of length there as well and the veins lining the length only add to the sensations. It's the kind of dick that you have to whisper "Never back down, never give up". You won't be walking straight for days. It's the kind of cock that might put you in a wheelchair. It's a damn good thing he's a medical professional because his dick might actually destroy you, and yet you'll still be begging for more. Half the time he doesn't even put it in all the way so that you'll have a chance at being able to go to work the next day. And good luck sucking him off, not even a master could fit his entire dick down their throat.
Zayne's favorite position would have to be you riding him. He'll sit down on a couch with you on his lap, your chest right in front of him so he can nip and suck at it. His hands having an almost bruising grip on your hips as he guide you up and down on his length. Your small whimpers as he tells you how good you are for him. To Zayne, literally nothing can beat the view of you bouncing in his lap.
Zayne hates having to take matters into his own hands, literally, but sometimes if he doesn't have you with him he needs to do something. Memories of your nights together will be going through his head until he's painfully hard and can't sleep or work. He's not vocal when he masturbates unless he's on call with you, and even then it's small grunts here and there.
Zayne will avoid sending you pictures that are explicit. He might send more teasing photos to you every now and then, but nothing too bad. He's also careful about sending steamy messages. Normally if he does, it's to inform you of what's to come later in the day and it doesn't go too far. When you two are away from one another for long periods of time, he will video call you for some play time. Sometimes he'll even edge you, telling you not to cum until he gets home (which is torture for those business trips that last literal weeks).
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Rafayel
As long as you're willing, Rafayel is more than happy to explore certain kinks with you. Of course only after you both look into it together. He loves teasing you about them while you two look into it, his body draped over your own while his hands explore your exposed skin, asking if you wanted to try the kink you're reading about right now.
He's a switch without a doubt. When he's bottoming he's nothing but a brat trying to be a power bottom and take control of the situation. When he's on top he is a huge tease, coaxing you into begging him for his touch. Either way, sex with Rafayel is always fun. Normally it's a small battle of dominance to decide who tops and bottoms.
Rafayel has more length than girth, and can definitely be called above average in that department. He isn't huge though, but just the right size to make you feel completely full. He also knows how to use it, making you whimper out his name as he slowly drags his length against your warm walls. His dick is pretty smooth as well, the veins not being very prominent. It is extremely sensitive to your touch though, and it's so easy to get him riled up just by running your hand over his pants.
To nobody's surprise, Rafayel likes to take you in the water. Whether it be in the pool, his tub, or the ocean. He has to admit you look amazing while the two of you are in the tub, your hands gripping the edges as you slowly ride him. His hands playing with all your exposed parts, teasing you and slowly bucking his hips into your own. Watching you cum and collapse onto his chest, panting his name as he continued fucking into you while you cling to him until he finishes, sometimes dragging another orgasm out of you.
Rafayel can and will masturbate to the thought of you whenever he has so much of a dirty thought. He's so down bad for you that he can't help himself. Just remembering how your skin feels against him, or how you whimper his name is enough to get him hard. He's not afraid to admit he's had to escape to the bathroom at one of his exhibits before just to get it out of his system. He can and will inform you about how it's all your fault and how you need to take responsibility.
Speaking of how you'll be informed if he masturbates, he will send you photos when it happens. His hand wrapped around his cock while in a closet during an event. Sometimes you'll see the cum dripping from the tip as he tells you n detail what you do to him. If he's at the studio, he'll call you up moaning your name, asking when you can come over. Of course this doesn't happen daily, but it is smart to make sure to have a privacy screen for your phone as well as headphones when you answer one of Rafayel's video calls if you're in public.
Lemurian Form
Rafayel is significantly more sensitive to touch in his Lemurian form. Feeling your hands tracing over his delicate scales will send shivers right down his spine.
He has two...and they're not small either. He has a slit in his tail that's softer than the rest and if you play with it enough, his cocks will come out. They're stacked, one on top of the other. The bottom one is about the side of his normal dick, but the top is significantly bigger.
They're tapered as well, coming to a soft point at the tips. The base of his cock has soft scales that are extremely sensitive (touching them the first time made him cum instantly). The rest of his length is a soft blue color that gradients to a more flesh tone at the top.
His cum is bioluminescent.
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slu7formen · 1 day
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Girl first of all I want to say that I'm OBSESSED with your writing I love it.
Second of all I would like to make a request about Luke so hear me out.
Luke and reader were in a relationship before he betrayed camp and they were head over heals for each other and then he stole the bolt and when Percy discovers he's the thief the reader is there feeling betrayed and specially heartbroken even though Luke ask her to go with him but she doesn't accept it because she's so loyal to camp and her friends.
Time passed and even if she wants to hate Luke she loves him more than anything. And Luke loves her too so instead of asking Annabeth to escape with him he asks reader and she accepts.
I want to see everything in here fluff, angst, everything you think about.
I hope you like this request and make it real for me because I've been having this idea for over a week.
Okay but I feel so bad ‘cause I totally forgot I had this story FULLY WRITTEN and READY to be published (‘cause I LOVED it), I’m so sorry angel, made you wait a lot more than just a week 🥺, but thanks for reading my stories <3
MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader
warnings: luke´s a traitor, betrayal, use of yn, swearing, kinda angst (?, KISSING, lil book spoiler
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₊˚⊹♡
The crackle and pop of the bonfire filled the air, a comforting contrast to the vibrant bursts of color exploding overhead. The annual fireworks display was in full swing, casting shadows on the faces of your friends huddled around the warm flames. It was a picture of peace, a moment of respite amidst the constant threat of monsters demigod drama.
You stole a glance at the empty space beside you. Luke, your boyfriend, had told you he'd just be back in a minute. A few minutes had turned into an eternity, but you chalked it up to his usual impulsiveness. He'd be back any minute, with his signature smile and an arm wrapped around you.
You knew it.
From the moment you met, you and Luke had been inseparable. You were his confidante, his anchor in the chaos of being a demigod and his messy life. He was your rock, always there to make you laugh, to understand the weight of your heritage in a way no one else could.
The warmth of the fire danced on your skin, but a shiver snaked down your spine. Something felt off. The chatter of your friends seemed muted, replaced by a dull ache in your chest. You couldn’t deny the way you noticed how Luke has been acting lately. So weird and distant towards you the last couple days. You loved him, fiercely and unconditionally. You'd been there for him through thick and thin, especially after his quest left a jagged scar across his cheek and a hollowness in his eyes.
But then he suddenly just, snapped.
A memory surfaced in you , sharp and unwelcome. It had been months ago, a conversation in the darkness of his cabin in a particular cold night. Luke, his eyes filled with a desperate fervor, had confessed his anger towards the gods, his belief that they were cruel and neglectful parents. He'd spoken of tricking the Olympians, joining forces with the Titans to fight for a better life for all demigods.
The anger in his voice, the glint of rebellion in his eyes, had scared you. The scar on his face, a reminder of his failed quest, seemed to burn brighter that night.
You understood his anger. The gods were far from perfect, their neglect and cruelty evident in countless demigod lives. He'd begged you to join him, his voice filled with a desperate hope. But you'd refused, your loyalty to Camp Half-Blood and your friends unwavering. You had spent hours talking him through it as you held his hand, reminding him of all the good the gods had done, no matter how flawed they might be. He'd looked lost at the time, seeking comfort in your touch. You'd thought you'd reached him, extinguished that spark of rebellion.
You really believed that conversation was long forgotten. But there was a reason why you remembered it.
Some movement at the edge of the woods caught your eye. But it wasn't the boy you were expecting. Percy, his face pale and etched with worry, practically stumbled into the fireplace, his chest heaving and his grip tight on Riptide.
A pang of concern shot through you. "Percy?" you called out, concern lacing your voice. You pushed yourself off the ground, walking towards him. "What happened? Where's Luke?"
Percy hesitated, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions. Shit, should he tell you? His silence was a hammer blow to your gut. You knew, with a chilling certainty, that something was terribly wrong.
"What?" you choked out, the question barely a whisper, expecting some kind of answer from the blonde boy, but nothing came from his trembling lips. The air felt dense, with a truth you desperately wanted to deny. You saw Luke getting into the woods with Percy, you saw it. And now, he was nowhere to be seen.
Then, it clicked. A cold, horrifying truth began to dawn on you.
He lied.
Without a word, you pushed Percy aside and started running, towards the woods. Your heart hammered against your ribs, like a trapped bird desperate to escape. You plunged into the darkness of the forest, the path you'd walked countless times with Luke now leading you into the unknown.
"Luke!" you screamed, your voice raw with anger and despair. You wove through the trees, the undergrowth tearing at your camp shirt, but you didn't care. You had to find him, to confront him, to understand why he'd chosen this path, if he chose it, why he'd lied to you.
But with each passing minute, hope crashed over you. The forest grew denser, the silence broken only by the rustle of leaves and the frantic beat of your own heart. There was no sign of Luke, no echo of his footsteps, no smell, no sense of his presence, only the chilling truth hanging heavy in the air.
He was gone.
He had left.
You sank to your knees, the weight of betrayal crushing you as the first tears you ever cried for Luke Castellan, started to fall. The man you loved, the person you'd trusted with your life, had chosen darkness over everything you held dear. He had chosen Kronos over you.
Grief, a cold and relentless serpent, coiled around your heart. And that feeling never seemed to leave.
The year that followed was a blur of sadness and a desperate attempt at normalcy. The silence from Luke was deafening. Not a single Iris-message, not a single sign of the one who once, was your boyfriend.
You knew you wouldn´t be able to return to Camp, at least not for now. Every corner held a ghost of Luke's smile, every sword clang a reminder of his battles and his betrayal. Your friends, the true ones, bless their hearts, tried everything to cheer you up from a distance, but their efforts felt like trying to pick up the pieces of a broken glass in the sea.
You opted to stay home that summer. But even there, away from the prying eyes and hushed whispers, escape from Luke's betrayal seemed impossible. Messages and news found you no matter where you hid. News of Luke leading a rogue army aboard a stolen cruise ship, rumors of him serving as Kronos's right hand while the Titan slumbered – it all reached your ears.
The nights were the worst. The darkness mirrored the hollowness within you. Tears would stain your pillow as you relived the events leading up to his betrayal. You once seemed to dream about seeing him again, and now you only screamed when you saw his face in your nightmares.
The memory of his touch, the warmth of his smile, the nights you spent loving each other with the sheets tangling in your legs, all felt like cruel illusions now. Yet, a part of you, a stubborn, illogical part, still clung to the love you once shared.
And Gods, did you try to keep yourself as busy as possible. You threw yourself into your studies and little courses here and there, seeking solace in facts and logic. You even began working, a boring but well payed summer job. Yet, the pain lingered, a dull ache that refused to subside.
The more you tried to banish these visions, the more vivid they became. You missed him like a starving man craved a feast, a yearning that gnawed at your insides and threatened to consume you. Frustration gnawed at you. How could you still love someone who'd betrayed you so utterly? How could your heart still ache for a man who chose war over you? The questions echoed endlessly within you, a relentless chorus fueling your self-conscious.
How could you be so weak?
These consuming questions were your companions for a whole year. But as the second summer after Luke's betrayal rolled around, a shift occurred within you. The raw, agonizing pain began to dull, replaced by a quiet resolve.
Finally, you decided it was time to take back control again. Camp Half-Blood called, a familiar haven among the storm. You returned a changed person. The vibrant smile that once adorned your face was a ghost, replaced by a guarded expression that spoke about the pain you harbored in silence. The camp's familiar energy felt hollow, a constant reminder of the happiness you'd lost.
Training became your sole solace. You'd disappear into the arena for hours, your celestial bronze sword a blur as you cleaved through training dummies, each swing fueled by a potent cocktail of grief and anger.
Exhaustion became your closest companion too. You pushed yourself to the limits of your endurance, hoping to find oblivion at the bottom of an empty fuel tank. But sleep, when it finally came, offered no escape. You'd dream of him, leading his army of rogue demigods, his eyes filled with a fanatical zeal that chilled you to the bone. And in those dreams, you'd see yourself, standing beside him, not out of loyalty to his cause, but out of a desperate yearning for the boy you once loved, still love.
In the quiet moments, when your friends weren't around, the dam would break. You'd collapse onto your cool and empty bed, tears streaming down your face, a raw, primal sob escaping your lips. The memory of Luke was no joy anymore, it haunted you like a specter.
You hated yourself for the traitorous flicker in your heart, the desperate, illogical yearning for him. It wasn't the war that tempted you; it was him.
You hated how much you missed him.
The scent of rain clung to the humid night air and to you like a second skin as you zipped up your duffel bag. Another summer at Camp Half-Blood loomed, promising a bittersweet mix of nostalgia and pain, but more training. The worst was yet to come, so you needed to be ready.
New York City, with its cacophony of car horns and the anonymity of millions, had become your refuge these past few months. In Manhattan, the memories of Luke seemed to hold less power for some weird reason, their edges dulling with the passage of time. You'd spent the past months in this tiny apartment, the silence deafening compared to the constant hum of life at camp.
Just then, a sharp rap on the door shattered the silence of your apartment. It was past midnight, an unusual time for visitors.
Adrenaline surged through you. Months of living fully alone had honed your senses. You'd become acutely aware of the city's underbelly – the flickering shadows that could hide monsters thanks to the ever-present mist. You'd seen them stalking the streets, stalking you, their true forms hidden to them mortals, an unsettling feeling crawling up your spine whenever their paths crossed yours. They never attacked, but their chilling presence followed you like a phantom.
Grabbing your necklace, you asked, "Yes?"
Silence. You weren't taking any chances. Pulling down at the pendant once, the necklace morphed into your celestial bronze dagger.
You took a step, two. Could it really be a monster? Could it really be some creature trying to get to you, by knocking on the door? With a shaky breath, you cracked the door open just enough to peek through the gap, hiding the dagger behind your back.
The sight that greeted you stole the air from your lungs.
Standing on your doorstep, bathed in the harsh glow of the hallway light, was Luke. His dark hair was windswept, his face etched with a gauntness that hadn't been there before, but his eyes – those were the same eyes that had haunted your dreams for months. They held a desperate plea, a flicker of the boy you once loved struggling to break through the hardened shell of the man he'd become.
“Luke?”
The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words and a tangled web of emotions. Time seemed to warp in that hallway, a single moment stretched into an eternity. Luke looked different, yes. The carefree boy you knew had been replaced by a man hardened by experience, his features etched with lines that spoke of battles fought and burdens carried. But his eyes, those brown eyes that had once held a mischievous twinkle, now held a deeper sadness that mirrored your own.
"Hi" Luke finally said, his voice raspy.
You stood speechless, the dagger still clutched tightly in your hand. Years of longing warred with the fresh wounds of betrayal. You wanted to scream at him, to unleash the torrent of hurt and anger that suddenly washed over you. But something held you back, a flicker of curiosity, maybe.
"Um, can I come in?" he continued, his posture pleading despite his attempt at nonchalance.
Jesus. Was that all he had to say? After everything, after what he did, all he could muster was a request to enter your apartment? A tide of anger threatened to drown you. Did he not understand the gravity of what he'd done? Did he not realize the pain he'd caused? But you forced your thoughts down. You weren't a child anymore, throwing tantrums wouldn't solve anything.
"Are you armed?" you asked, your voice flat, devoid of any warmth.
Luke flinched at your question, a flicker of pain crossing his features. "You think I wanna hurt you?" he countered, his tone defensive.
"Last time I saw you," you spat back, your voice laced with bitterness, "was three years ago, and I know your little monsters are keeping an eye on me. The first thing I'm supposed to think about is whether you want to hurt me or not."
He sighed, a long, weary exhale. Unzipping his jacket, he turned slowly, patting down his pockets before turning back to you. His eyes, once alive with mischief and love, were now filled with a desperate sincerity. "See? No weapons. Just me."
You studied him, a battle raging within you. One part of you wanted to slam the door, to let him know that he wasn't welcome. Yet, another part, a smaller, more vulnerable part, couldn't help but cling to the flicker of hope that flickered amongst the ashes of your love.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you stepped aside, allowing a sliver of space for him to enter. "Fine" you said, your voice devoid of warmth. "But you better have a good reason to come here"
Luke hesitated for a beat before stepping inside. He closed the door softly behind him, the sound echoing through the tense silence. He stood there awkwardly with his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanning the room, landing finally on the packed bags besides the tv.
"You're heading back to camp?" he asked.
You flipped the dagger in your hand, and the celestial bronze morphed back into the golden necklace. "What do you want?" you repeated, your voice still sharp, a shield against the emotions swirling within you.
Luke stood awkwardly in the doorway, the once carefree boy replaced by a man burdened by the weight of his choices. His leather jacket seemed to hang heavy on his broad shoulders.
"I…" he started, then stopped, seemingly unsure how to proceed. He cleared his throat, the sound scratchy and unfamiliar. "You look different" he finally managed, the words tumbling out awkwardly.
You scoffed, a humorless sound that surprised even you.
"Look, yn" he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper, "I wanna talk, okay? I know what I did was wrong. I know I hurt you."
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "You could say that again."
His fingers twitched at your bitterness, but pressed on. "I came here because..." He hesitated again, seemingly wrestling with an inner turmoil. "Because I-"
Frustration bubbled up within you. This cryptic approach, this lack of honesty, it was infuriating. "Because you what, Luke?" you demanded, your voice laced with a sharp edge. "Because you decided to grace me with your presence after leading a rebellion against the gods? Or maybe because you just wanted to see if I'm still waiting for you?"
You watched his face harden, the vulnerability replaced by a familiar defiance.
"Don't twist this" he snapped, his voice firm. "I came here because..." He took a deep breath, his eyes locking with yours. "Because I miss you, yn. I miss us."
The air crackled with a tension so thick you could almost taste it.
You took a slow step towards him, then another. He took notes of yourself as you did. The way you had grown internally was so intense that he could sense it everywhere. He might have betrayed you, but that only helped you get on your feet stronger, grow stronger. Become the warrior he always knew you were.
Then, in a move as instinctive as it was fierce, your hand lashed out. The slap connected with a stinging crack, the sound echoing through the apartment like a thunderclap. Luke's head snapped to the side, a crimson handprint blooming on his cheek. Shame flickered in his eyes as he scoffed, quickly replaced by a dull acceptance.
He deserved it, that much was clear.
"How dare you?” you spat, your voice shaking with barely controlled fury, "How fucking dare you come back here after what you've done? After leading a rebellion against the gods, after putting everyone we care about at risk? After betraying me?"
Luke took a shaky breath, running a hand over the burning mark on his face. "I'm sorry” he said, his voice low and ragged. "I'm so sorry. I know I hurt you, and I know a simple apology won't erase the pain or fix things. But you have to believe me, I never meant for things to get this bad"
He stepped towards you, his hands outstretched in a placating gesture, but you flinched back, the space between you a tangible barrier. "Don't touch me" you warned, your voice laced with ice.
He lowered his hands, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
“I know you hate me for what I´ve done. For joining Kronos, I-“
"You think this is all about Kronos?" you cut him off, your voice shaking with barely contained fury. "You think the reason my heart has been broken these past years is because you joined a fucking Titan?"
Luke remained silent, the weight of your words pressing down on him like a collapsing mountain. He knew better.
"This is about what you did to me, Luke" you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. "I was with you, all the time. I was your girlfriend! And you betrayed me. You left me alone” your voice broke so hard that you had to take a second to swallow the big gulp that was forming in your throat. “Everyone at camp looked at me after what you did," you choked out. "They either felt sorry for me, or they insulted me, saying that I was still loyal to you, that I was a traitor."
You closed your eyes for a moment, the pain etched on your face a stark reminder of the devastation he'd wrought. "You were the most important person in my life" you cried, your voice raw and vulnerable. "But you? You let Kronos fill your head with empty promises, and just like that, you forgot about us."
The truth felt like a bitter pill to swallow. He opened his mouth to speak.
"I asked you to come with me" he finally whispered, his voice thick with regret. "I gave you the chance to leave with me."
"And even after I said no," you countered, your voice trembling like the finger that was now pointing at his chest, "you still left. You threw me away like shit. And do you know what the worst part is?" Tears streamed down your face, tracing a path through the dust of old heartache. "That as much as I try, I can't seem to hate you."
A sob escaped your lips, shattering the fragile dam you'd built around your emotions. "I still love you, Luke" you confessed. "Even though it's a love that fills me with pain, it's still there. I hate myself because I dream about you, about the way things used to be. But when I don't, I feel like a piece of me is missing."
You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears and a raw vulnerability that left Luke speechless.
What had he done?
"I hate myself because I can't help but pray for your safety, even though you never seemed to care about mine. I hate myself because even after everything, I still love you, Luke."
Your heart felt like a shattered kaleidoscope, a million shards of love, anger, and pain reflecting back at you in a distorted reality. You walked and sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands as sobs racked your body.
Luke, his heart heavy with a remorse sharper than any weapon, watched you crumble. The carefree girl he fell in love with was gone, replaced by a woman etched with the scars of his own actions. Hesitantly, he reached out, placing a hand on your back as he sat down next to you, a gesture of comfort that felt more like a branding iron on his guilt.
"yn” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I still love you too."
You didn't respond, the sobs coming in ragged gasps as your body struggled to contain the storm within.
"I know I left you" he continued, his voice cracking slightly. "And you didn't deserve it. But… I was so lost, so angry. Kronos promised me power, a solution to all the problems I saw. He convinced me that Olympus was corrupt, that the gods didn't care about half-bloods like us. And when you said no, he-, he told me leaving you behind, said that it would be easier for everyone…"
His voice trailed off. Easier for who? Easier for him, perhaps, to sever the ties that bound him, to plunge headfirst into a rebellion fueled by manipulated ideals.
"But it wasn't" he choked out, a tear escaping his eye, carving a glistening path down his cheek. "Every day, every step I took… it was a constant reminder of what I'd lost. The guilt was eating me alive, yn, you have to believe me”. His hands desperately reached for yours, trying to get your fingers to intertwine by placing his over yours.
Tears welled up in his own eyes. "I regret everything. I mean it. I don't want to do this anymore."
You finally lifted your head, your eyes red-rimmed and brimming with unshed tears. Luke looked different to you now, the bravado and arrogance gone, replaced by a vulnerability that mirrored your own.
"Don't want to do what?" you asked, your voice hoarse.
"This” he gestured vaguely to himself, but you didn’t quite catch it. "Following Kronos. Helping him rise to power. It's wrong. I can see that now."
“Little late to that, isn’t it?” you blurted out.
He took a deep breath, his expression resolute. "yn, there's a reason I came to you. A reason I risked Kronos' trust in me." He paused, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Kronos wants me to become his host."
And the world seemed to suddenly stop. You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Your mind raced, trying to process what he had just said. Luke, your Luke, becoming a vessel for the monstrous Titan?
"What?" you croaked, fear coating your voice like frost. Your eyes darted around, searching for a way out, a solution, anything. But Luke wouldn't meet your gaze, his jaw clenched tight, a storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface. "No. No, he can't. It's not possible."
The thought of him, Luke, being consumed by Kronos, twisted your insides into knots.
Luke, however, seemed to gather his resolve. "Yes, it is" he said, his voice low and strained. "There are things you don't know, yn. Things I've done."
A cold dread gripped your stomach, a physical manifestation of the terror that clawed at your insides. Your mind raced, desperate for answers. "Then tell me" you only managed to say. "Luke, what have you done?"
He hesitated, looking around as if afraid someone might be listening. "There's no time now" he finally said, his voice tight with urgency. "But I promise I will explain everything. That's not why I'm here."
Taking a deep breath, he dared to reach out, his hand gently grasping yours, finally. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through you, a stark contrast to the chilling fear that gripped you.
He called your name, his voice softening. "Come with me" he said.
You only feel capable of frowning your brows in confusion. "Go where?" you asked, your voice wary.
"Anywhere" he said, like a plea. "Let's run away, together. It can be just you and me again"
He leaned closer, the air around him crackling with a tension that mirrored the storm within you. As his forehead rested against yours, a jolt of electricity shot through you. It was a familiar warmth, a spark that had ignited countless stolen kisses and whispered secrets back when your world wasn't teetering on the brink of war. His other hand cupped your cheek, the touch a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you. His hand, usually warm and comforting, felt cool against your burning skin, a physical reminder of the distance that had grown between you. Yet, despite the chill, a wave of longing washed over you, a yearning for the simple comfort of his touch.
But reason tugged at you, a voice of caution in the midst of the storm. "But Luke," you stammered, pulling away slightly, "If you escape, Kronos will come for you. He'll come for us, and-,"
"I don't care" he interrupted, his voice resolute, yet laced with a tremor that betrayed his bravado. It was as if he was on the precipice, teetering between defiance and the vulnerability of a man on the verge of breaking. "I'll fight everything that comes for us. And if the war happens... I'll fight. I'll fight for everyone, I’ll fight for you. I'm not losing you again, yn."
His words resonated deep within you, a desperate echo of the love you still harbored for him, a love you thought you'd buried beneath layers of anger and sadness. You saw the fear in his eyes, a fear that you sadly shared, but beneath it, a flicker of something else – a raw, desperate hope. And as you looked at him, a wave of relief washed over you.
The relief of knowing he wasn't entirely lost, that a part of the Luke you loved still existed.
"I love you" he confessed again, his voice trembling.
Looking into his eyes, a storm of emotions swirling within them, the truth resonated with you. "I love you too" you whispered, the words tumbling from your lips like a long-awaited confession.
The world did indeed, stop. The rain, a relentless symphony against the window pane, faded into a distant murmur. The thunders became a muffled echo. In that moment, the only reality was the space between you and Luke, charged with the unspoken electricity of your confessions.
He leaned in further, a hesitant question in his eyes. A flicker of fear danced in their depths, a scared boy seeking forgiveness beneath the warrior's facade. You watched him, a bittersweet ache blooming in your chest.
With a sigh that trembled on your lips, you closed the distance. Your lips met in a hesitant touch, a tentative exploration of a forgotten familiarity. Three years of longing, of unspoken words and simmering emotions, poured into that kiss. It was sweeter than you'd dared to imagine, a warmth that spread from your lips and drizzled down your chest.
Unlike the passionate encounters of your past, this felt different; like kissing him for the first time. Luke's lips moved against yours with a reverence that sent shivers down your spine. He held back, his desperate desire tempered with a respect that surprised you. You knew him.
But then, you yielded. Your lips parted, a silent invitation, and his tongue met yours in a dance as old as time. A full, heavy and angry thunderclap erupted outside, a jarring contrast to the intimacy unfolding on the couch. But you paid it no mind, lost in the whirlpool of rediscovered affection.
Your arms encircled his neck, a desperate hold. He, in turn, cupped your waist, his touch lingering on the curve of your hip as he gently lowered you onto the soft cushion. His body hovered above yours. His lips, however, remained glued to yours, a relentless exploration that spoke of a love both fierce and fragile.
The kiss deepened, a slow burn that threatened to consume you both. You felt the familiar rhythm of his heart against yours, a counterpoint to the frantic beat of your own. It was a melody of second chances, of unspoken apologies and nascent hope.
His hand trailed down your back, teasingly brushing under your shirt, sending shivers dancing across your skin. You arched into his touch, a wordless plea for more. But just then, he pulled away, his breath ragged, his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions.
His voice, a husky murmur against your skin, sent shivers down your spine. "I missed this so much," he whispered, his lips trailing down the delicate column of your neck and the dip of your collarbone. His warm breath mingled with your own, a heady mix of emotions swirling around you.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, the familiar texture a stark reminder of the past you both desperately clung to. He reached for your pulse, slowly sucking in before letting it pop.
"I wanted to feel you every night" he confessed. "Every night, I dreamt of you." His words were a stark contrast to the cold, distant Luke you saw in your dreams, the only vivid memory you’ve had of him the past years.
"Luke" you whispered, your voice barely audible as you tried to speak.
He didn't stop. His hand drifted down your torso, his fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your lower tummy. Every touch felt like a brand, a searing reminder of what you had lost and the uncertainty that lay ahead.
"It was a mistake" he said, his voice thick with regret. "A big, fucking mistake. Leaving you, betraying you-, it was the biggest mistake of my life. My life doesn't make any sense without you."
With a strangled sound, Luke deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a desperation that mirrored your own. You clung to him, a drowning sailor grasping at a lifeline. The scent of leather that clung to him was intoxicating, a familiar anchor in this storm of emotions.
"Luke" you managed to gasp between kisses, a flicker of reason breaking through the haze of desire. You needed more than just words, needed a binding promise, something concrete to hold onto if you were to take this leap of faith.
He stared at you, his eyes a storm of emotions – desire, confusion, and a flicker of something that might have been annoyance. But before he could respond, you pressed on.
"Swear on it, Luke" you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "Swear on the River Styx” you repeat. Luke’s eyes dart back and forth, from your lips, to your eyes, to filling up with confusion. “I’m not-,” you cut yourself off as you feel your eyes filling with tears again. You bit your tongue before speaking, “I’m not letting you hurt me like this again"
You knew it was selfish, a desperate attempt to safeguard your heart. But Luke was here, finally, after all this time. You craved the warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence. The thought of letting him go again, of enduring another betrayal, was unbearable. Yet, a part of you, still scarred from the past, craved a guarantee, an oath sworn on the most powerful river in the Underworld. It was dangerous, yes, but did you care?
Did he care?
Luke's expression hardened. The River Styx, held a weight that couldn't be ignored. The river he already bathed himself in. It was a binding vow, a promise etched in the very fabric of existence.
He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for a flicker of doubt, a hint of manipulation. But all he saw was the vulnerability, the fear – a vulnerability born from the scars he himself had inflicted.
"I swear on the River Styx" he said, his voice low and solemn, each word heavy with the weight of the oath. "I swear I won’t ever leave you. I swear I love you. I swear I'll fight for you, for us, with every breath in my lungs."
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Text
Long post incoming, but I've been on and off it for days so you're gonna see it.
On Charles and Love
I think there's a lot more to Charles' reaction to Edwin's confession than what we may first assume.
Charles loves harder than anyone, but I don't think he even knows what it means or feels like to be IN love--or to be loved back. This isn't a dig at Edwin, so don't @ me. This has to do with Charles' past.
When Edwin first confesses on the steps of Hell, Charles doesn't even hesitate with his response: "Great, love you too, can we go now?" He does love Edwin, one way or another. He hasn't needed to examine that love any further. He doesn't think Edwin could mean it that way, because Edwin probably has never given any indication of feeling that for anyone. Perhaps he didn't think Edwin capable of love in that way. Perhaps it's his own repressed sexuality. Perhaps it's the feeling that he is inherently unlovable. Perhaps it's a combination of things.
On Edwin's and Charles' Repression
Look, Edwin is clearly autistic and heavily emotionally repressed--he's British, from 1916, and male. That's the perfect storm of emotional repression. But he clearly feels and feels deeply--he just doesn't always let on about it. (Which is such a nice thing to see for autistic representation, the "unfeeling alien" trope ain't it.)
And even though they've been together for 30 years, they clearly do not talk about deep emotions much, because it makes Edwin uncomfortable and Charles probably wouldn't manage to get much out before cracking a joke instead--it's his defense mechanism.
As for his own repression, Charles grew up in the 80s as a biracial kid with an abusive father. He was also at least questionably queer while alive: he was part of an alt crowd, wore eyeliner, and wore a single dangly earring. Now that doesn't mean for certain he's queer or questioning, but it IS a pretty common code in media and storytelling. And I imagine no small part of his father's excuses for abusing Charles had to do with "beating the queer out of him." Of COURSE that led to repression--how could it not?
On Feeling Unlovable
And the feeling that he's inherently unlovable? Does he really feel that way? I think so.
He wants it. He wants to be loved so badly. And because of that, he tries so hard. He tries to stay light and happy and kind, even when he's suffering underneath--he has his own flavor of emotional repression. Because if he can't be loved, he can at least be liked.
And he doesn't just want people to like him, he needs them to like him, because he needs to know he's likable. Because there's safety in being likable. There's safety in being funny and friendly and "a good sort of chap." It's proof he's not the monster his father was--the monsters his friends were. It's his shield. The shield he uses to protect himself from the world, yes, but also to protect the world from him. Or at least, who he thinks he is, deep down.
It's also, in his mind, his only chance at being loved. His only chance at staying loved. Because love is earned. Because love is the reward for good behavior. At least, that's how it was as a kid, right? And that's all he knows. He died before he could experience any other kind of love--besides the love between himself and Edwin, which is its own complicated matter.
The other difficult aspect of growing up in a household where love and affection were weaponized and where violence is an acceptable reaction to anger, is how it radically alters your perception of love and family.
You crave the love and validation you never received, but you also fear it and don't believe it's real when it comes without strings.
You struggle to identify love in healthy relationships because if it doesn't hurt, then is it really love?
And even though you crave it more than anything, you're afraid of it. You're afraid for things to get real, because real love--or your understanding of it--is dangerous.
Because love is a weapon and you can't bear for anyone to use it against you again.
Hurt People Hurt People...Sometimes
Trauma manifests differently in each person. There are some commonalities, but it's never exactly the same. I know the saying is "hurt people hurt people" and that's not entirely wrong. But sometimes, hurt people heal people--or at least try to. Charles is in the second group.
Charles never, ever wants anyone to feel the kind of love he knew while he was alive. So he paradoxically loves openly while remaining guarded. His loyalty and devotion are unmatched. He went to Hell for Edwin. But he also never told Edwin the truth about his father until essentially forced to. Because that involves vulnerability. It involves, in his eyes, weakness. And what did vulnerability and "weakness" get him in life? Well...dead.
But he craves reciprocation. He needs to feel like he can be vulnerable, safely. I don't think that Edwin has done anything to make him feel unsafe, but being that they're both emotionally surpressed boys killed by other boys for perceived weaknesses at 16 and the lack of a ghost therapist...it's not all that surprising they haven't dealt with their issues in 30 years.
I think this is why he latches onto Crystal so quickly and easily. Firstly, she's alive: he can at least pretend to ignore his own death for a bit. Secondly, she's his age (sort of) and can see him, which is an uncommon experience at best. Thirdly, again--she's alive, so it can never last--never be real. Either she'll age beyond him, or she'll die and likely be taken to her afterlife. Which he'll happily ignore for the first two reasons.
On Types of Love
I won't get too into this, because I'm in no way an expert in the wide variety of emotions attributed to love. But I will say this: Charles died at 16.
If we set aside the possibility of him being aromantic for now (which he absolutely could be), he may never have had the chance to fall in love while he was alive. If he could even recognize it for what it was. I mean, I'm in my 30s, been married and divorced twice, and I'm still not sure I've ever been in love. At 16, you're drowning in hormones and it can be hard to decipher feelings.
On Arrested Development
If you think about it, his death and subsequent ghostly afterlife are a supernatural version of the arrested development a lot of child abuse survivors experience. But his development arrested literally--he literally CAN'T grow up. At least, not physically.
He may have had 30 years to address his issues, but why would he have thought to? He doesn't have the same responsibilities or needs as a living adult. He's constantly on the job or on the run from Death, he's living with Emotional Repression the Person (my beloved), and frankly...it hurts to examine those problems. How many adults are actively avoiding their own issues?
On the Confession
Edwin, with the most heartwrenching tone of voice since David "I would like to spend" Tennant, makes clear that he's IN love with Charles. And for a moment Charles looks like he's been walloped in the gut with an iron bar, trying to process. But then the trauma-brain kicks in.
He finds the first "logical" explanation to someone (Edwin) telling him they love him: it's a literary reference, and Edwin is...maybe not "messing" with him, but maybe being extra dramatic about this? It can't be real.
But then Edwin gets upset--he's serious about this. And Charles sort of...short-circuits. He can't process this right now, not when they're running for their afterlives. Not when the Night Mother is waiting to split them up. Not when he's barely even begun to process his trauma. So he does everything he can to make sure Edwin knows that, no matter what, he loves him. Maybe not in the same way, but with the same depth.
Because they'll have time. They'll have all the time in the world to figure out what this means. Because they certainly don't right now, and everything Edwin is saying flies directly in the face of every opinion Charles has ever held about himself.
And what the hell is he supposed to do with that?
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melodic-haze · 1 day
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MORE SAD SUB ARLECCHINO. PLEASE. I NEED TO EAT. like shes in absolute TEARS SHES SO ME I LOVE HER PLEASE FEED ME MORE.
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☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader
☆ — TYPE: NSFW
☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: A lil petplay (it's like one paragraph)
☆ — NOTES: I lied about not writing for this week lol I needed a distraction. Anyway combined these two bc they worked very sillily together hope yall don't mind 🫶 also YES I DO REMEMBER YOU 🎀 anon w my first ask about Arle :333
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Oh man oh man oh MANNN I wanna do soooo many things to her auhfhthgh
Much as I ADORE absolutely ruining this absolute UNIT of a woman, I also want to take care of her and dote on her so much to the point where she fucking cries from being treated so well UGHHHHH
I feel like there are times at night when she remembers what she had lost in order to get to where she is right now (the chance to have a life that went in a more conventional direction, along w ESPECIALLY Clervie) and while she has learned to deal with the feeling itself in solitary, whenever you see her look out the window she is no longer The Knave—this was Peruere, a lonely girl yearning for something from so long ago
Even when she seems like such a self-assured person, all that composure threatens to fall into pieces the moment you, the one she now holds so achingly dearly in her heart, go to hug her and tell her that she's no longer alone :( no matter how many times you tell her or no matter how many times this scene repeats, it will never stop affecting her so deeply :(((((
I do think that she actually does love to sit on your lap. Sure, maybe it's kinda unnecessary and even more than a little embarrassing, but it makes her feel cared for instead of the way around that she's used to 🫶
"Who would've known that the real reason why you like being on my lap was for this, though..?"
You curled your fingers up in order to emphasise your point, hitting that specific spot within her that forces out a strangled gasp as her thighs make a feeble attempt to close themselves off.. despite the fact that you were comfortably sat right in-between.
Arlecchino makes no effort to answer you properly right away with one of her ever-so-composed words of wisdom or whatever they may be—she opts to tuck her head into the crook of your neck as fat tears roll down her cheeks, your skin almost as wet as her drooling cunt that you just can't get enough of.
(Her makeup is smudged too, though by this point it doesn't really seem like she cares.)
Though with the way your other hand was wrapped around her, softly stroking her back as if soothing your crying mess, and the way her own arms were clinging onto you, you both knew there was so much more to this position beyond your carnal actions.
Something much more emotionally charged, something much more than she usually let herself handle.
And perhaps it might also be because you had been at this for a while; your little lapdog was desperate for a release every time.. only for you to take the chance away from her, as if faking your pet out of her sweet treat. You couldn't help but play with her a little, not when her reactions are often the sweetest—uncharacteristic whines making its way out of her lips as she pleads you to fuck her silly, to--
"--make me forget for a brief moment, please-- ah..!"
And as her loving partner, of course you'd want to comfort her in whatever way you can.
"I'll make you forget your very title, Peruere."
"Please--"
Especially if it means fucking her until all that longing is long gone.
Need her to go from crying about who she had to kill to crying about who she ended up gaining in the end (and crying about how you make her feel too :3)
Just softly tell her that you love her, sing her praises, take care of her, kiss the tears rolling down her face, give her everything that she hadn't been meant to have or hadn't even realised she could ever have as the 'monster' her past has created
I just really really wanna spoil her and make her cry by overwhelming her with so much affection she doesn't know what to do with as someone who doesn't often let such things dictate her actions dude idk 🤷‍♀️
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sweeteaacakes · 15 hours
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C-can I asked for a stupid headcan about them playing Minecraft
♡》 WHB Kings Playing Minecraft.
┊ ➶ 。˚ ° Sorry it took long~ I ended up writing some for the nobles too... but had to cut only for the kings because it would be too much. Ask if
»»-----------►
Satan
The griefer. He would pull out TNTs whenever he felt like it or light things on fire. It's an impulse.
Mining? Explosion. Fishing? Explosion. Building houses? Explosion.
His inventory has common things like flints and lava buckets.
You'd think he have a diamond sword, diamond armors or things like that until he pulls out a fucking rod.
Correction: enhanced blaze rod.
It has a knockback, fire aspect so it'll burn whoever is hit, sharpness, smites, bane of arthropods. You call it.
He has another one which is an ordinary rod that just deals damage and knockback.
Would use it with the people in his server occasionally. The nobles are eager to be the target of it.
Uses it to Mammon every time they meet and Mammon retaliates.
Despite being a griefer, he takes care of building and when the nobles told him he can find various materials he started mining and building along with others.
Paimon recommended using mods so he can have a motorbike in game. He is having fun building rails and riding minecarts.
“Expert” in redstone (aka puts it to everywhere + tnt + flint)
His playmode sways here and there but he has the most creative ideas when it comes to building.
Mammon
He traveled far and wide until he found the biome Badlands where there are mineshafts and golds.
Mammon is good at building and always experiments on various materials.
He always has treasures with him.
Either he takes whatever treasure is in the chest or leaves some. You better keep your stuffs in the ender chest :x
Eligos has to tell him many times to not make armors and weapons out of gold because it's not efficient when it comes to battle! TToTT)
So he just made a golden statue… various golden statues and some are built using redstones.
Mammon probably managed to put his ability in-game thanks to that.
He can activate giant hands in his server and they work as defensive walls.
if he is not in the server, he wears enhanced armors and weapons plus have many stacks of enhanced golden apple.
Implied a policy that in-game currency isn't exchangeable outside because a certain someone would have taken advantage of it.
People who can't afford a better computer can't enter Tartaros. Not because they have to pay to enter but because of the massive and detailed buildings that will overheat their computer TT-TT)
And when I tell you massive, I mean it obscures the sun. As if it was made by grand masters of constructions that will tell you “it's the average”.
They have a mod installed which allows them to have an advanced technology.
The server has a giant wall that resembles Mammon’s giant hand.
Ahem He dedicated a golden statue of MC’s bottom ♡
Leviathan
Since he can't hang someone in-game Leviathan uses instant-kill. They're gonna respawn anyway so no big deal.
I would say they have a mod to have tombs but… I can imagine Hades’ server to be proficient in potion making and animal taming.
Leviathan spends most of his time exploring other biomes such as nether, caves, ocean. Unlike in the outside world, in-game he can explore freely with minor accidents :3
He has a castle in each of the biomes.
I can tell he would love the Cherry Grove, Ice Spikes and even Savannah where there are many animals TTwTT)
He tames animals. Even tries taming monsters but those who hurt him are quickly dealt with. No hard feelings.
He seems like someone who doesn't care but he actually has insane armors, weapons and potions for competitive games.
Goes to another server from time to time carrying potions of invisibility.
Have more chances to stumble with Beelzebub than the Avisos’ nobles lol
Quickly log-out if it happens.
Beelzebub
Aye! The wandering king! Even in-game, he still wanders server to server.
His clones play too so you'll find him in various servers once at time.
You'll probably find him in unexpected places too…
He… have a fucking rod as a weapon TToTT)
Like… not a blaze rod like Satan… a FISHING ROD.
Yeah, it's enhanced. He forgot how he did it or what he put in it. He fucked around and find things out lol.
If you find him somewhere, there'll be a chance that he'll tag along with you and he suddenly disappears just like how you found him.
Just like outside, he still create unexplainable phenomena in-game TToTT
Lucifer
Just here to have fun~
Gamigin and Jjok helped him to get in creative mode so he can just fly around and stuffs~
He is just there to relax~
He builds here and there but is very slow because he needs to figure out.
So being in creative mode helps a lot so he won't have to search for them.
He goes in player mode though because he wants to feel the fun of actually playing it with others.
He does suck on mining…
Dies a lot…
He was mining and drowned in lava.
He drowned.
Fell on high places.
✨️Dumb Ways To Die✨️
He was flustered when he found out that there are wings in Minecraft! Gamigin was worried it would bring him bad memories but Lucifer didn't mind it.
He found it fun learning to fly again in a game. He crashed in various places until he got used to the control.
Belphegor
In AFK
Uses the game as background music while he does other stuff outside.
You know those videos of relaxing Minecraft music for 10 hours? Those
Don't bother to fight him. He cheats.
Asmo
Doesn't log-in often.
But when he does it's for hook-ups.
He prefers to feel the real thing and isn't very much in roleplay, especially when it comes to games.
Have various potions with him that he throws whenever he feels like.
I imagine him building a garden house? Lucifer like that. They hang together without speaking.
He builds the most questionable thing. Like strange things.
»»———-  ———-«
Author Note: Asmodeus and Belphegor's are short there isn't much known about them but I wanted to include them too TT-TT)~ Thanks for the ask ♡ I don't get much often so it's always appreciated:3
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lullabyes22-blog · 2 days
Text
Snippet - Puppy Love - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO
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Sevika narrates a sad story...
tw: violence, gore, gang warfare
Forward but Never Forget/XOXO
Snippet:
"You have your city. Powder has no place in it. Let her have a normal life. In Piltover, with me."
Sevika stares a moment before a laugh spangles out. It's like rich, smoky music. In it, Vi hears echoes of a girlhood lost. She hears other things too. Disbelief, disdain. And the shock of epiphany, as if Sevika finally understands that Vi and Powder aren't simply sisters, but strangers to each other. Different species.
To Vi, Zaun is a black maw. To Powder, it is a cradle.
"A normal life?" Sevika repeats, when she can breathe without gulping. "With you? Do you even know what that means? Jinx would be a fucking fugitive. They'd throw her in the clink."
"I'd keep her safe! Get her across the sea." Vi's eyes glaze wetly. "We'd run away. Together."
"Yeah? Where would you go?"
"Wherever. It doesn't matter. Someplace warm. An island in Tereshni. With sun and sand. Or a fishing lodge in Bilgewater. Anything, as long as it's not here. She can paint, or build model ships, or—"
"You think it's that easy? Just pick up and start over?" Sevika's eyes are so dark the pupil and iris are indistinguishable. "What do you think she is, a fucking doll? Put her someplace new, and bam! She's fixed." She shakes her head. "Your sister's fucked beyond repair, Vi. There's no place for her anywhere. Except Zaun. Because our city gives her what she needs." She taps her temple. "Someplace to put all that chaos."
"That's not true! She doesn't have to be a monst—"
Vi breaks off, horrorstruck. She's spoken the forbidden truth. Her sister is a monster.
Just like Silco.
Sevika's eyes gleam cruelly. "Monster? That she is. No use making her into something else." Her chin tips. "Come to think, there was a kid who tried. After Silco took over the Drop, he'd hang around. Try to catch Jinx whenever she was alone. He'd show her toys he'd tinkered with. She'd show him her inventions. They'd be happy as clams." The reminiscence curdles into cynicism. "But whenever Silco showed up, Jinx clammed right up. Wouldn't leave his side. It didn't matter what the boy did or said. He might as well have been a pebble on the street. Something to make way for the man of the hour."
Realization judders through Vi.
"Ekko," she says.
"Yeah, that's right." Sevika snaps her fingers. "Ekko. The little man at Benzo's shop. He and Jinx had a thing, didn't they? Puppy love. I remember how they'd be off in the corner, doodling together. Always a few inches apart. Then he'd whisper something in her ear, and she’d light up like a birthday candle." A beat. "She sure wasn't smiling by the end. Neither was he."
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh, right. You were in the slammer."  A faux-pitying sneer, before she sobers. "After Jinx came to live with Silco, he needed someone who could fine-tune her... talents. Take her knack for guns, and make it deadly. But the teachers he brought in, they couldn't handle her. Too scared. Too impatient. One of 'em went apeshit on her. Slapped her upside the head a couple times. She ended up with a busted lip. Silco found out, and, well. It's never wise to lay a hand on what's his."
Her once-over takes in the topography of Vi's bruised flesh. Vi braces for fresh mockery. It doesn't come. Sevika's features remain neutral; a look that's seen it all before.
"After the crew dumped the fucker's body," she goes on, "we decided to look closer to home. Found ourselves a local tinkerer. Old Giz, down at the Abattoir. Fine gunsmith. He'd done business with Silco before. Had the smarts and the patience to deal with a powderkeg like Jinx. Every week, he'd take her out to the scrapyards. Show her how to dismantle a firearm. How to build it back up from scratch. She gave him plenty of lip. Called him Geezer and made fun of his gimp. But she listened. Learned. Soon, she was building her own guns. Models with unique designs. Ones that made Giz's creations look like junk. Silco was real impressed. So were the rest of us. Until..." Sevika's jaw hardens. "Turns out, Giz was too much of a softie for his own good. Silco had been paying him a premium to give Jinx private lessons. But Giz, he'd turned his shop into a bona fide daycare. He let Ekko drop in whenever the kid pleased. Didn't mind having him underfoot, either. Boy had a way with tools. He'd sit and work with Jinx, and they'd chatter non-stop. Sometimes, they'd be too busy playing to work. Giz didn't mind.  The way he saw it, the kids deserved to be kids."
Vi's throat works. "And—Silco found out."
"What can I say? He's a man who expects a bang for his buck. When he heard Giz had been letting Ekko hang around, he was none too happy. Giz had designed the security rigging at the Drop. And he knew where we stored the Shimmer.  One slip-up, and our headquarters would be compromised. Silco was pissed. But he didn't think Ekko was trouble. So he let it slide. Told Giz not to make the same mistake twice." Her lips pull in tight. "Then Giz did something even stupider."
"What?"
"He left the schematics of the Drop's security at his workshop. Ekko, the little shit, found 'em. Took a good long look. Made his own copies.  This was right around the time Jinx stopped taking her lessons with Giz. I don't know why. Maybe she got tired of his chatter. Maybe she found a better way to blow off steam. Whatever the case, Ekko didn't like it. He got it into his head that something fishy was going on. That maybe... Silco was hurting Jinx. He went from playing with her to pestering her. I'd see them sometimes on the rooftops. He'd be tugging her arm. Trying to get her to run away with him. But she wouldn't listen. Everytime Ekko pushed, she'd push back twice as hard. Eventually, he gave up." A beat. "Or so we thought."
A foreboding chill creeps in. "What happened?"
Sevika's eyes flick left and right, before resettling on Vi. "Ekko staged an... intervention. He got a bunch of brats from the Lanes together. They memorized the security checkpoints at the Last Drop. Then they decided to break inside, torch the Shimmer storehouse, and make a run for it—with Jinx in tow." She shakes her head. "The moron. I warned him to stay away. But he was gung-ho. Only fourteen, and Jinx was the moon to his sky. So, he and his gang—they snuck in at midday. Right when the guards changed shifts."
Vi's mind reels. She knows what comes next.
"It was a massacre. Jinx knew they were coming. Don't know how, exactly, but she knew. She went and told Silco. I remember them both in the barroom the night before. Him sitting at the counter. Her standing by his shoulder. Going on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. They had the same look. Same set to the mouth. The same fucking eye."  Sevika's features shade into grimness. "The next day, Ekko and his gang snuck in. One of them stepped on a trigger wire. Set off a silent alarm. When they entered Silco's office, our guards were waiting. The punks didn't have a chance. Most were scrappers with switchblades and flashbangs. Silco's crew were trained militia.  And they'd been armed with the brand-new guns Jinx had designed. I still remember those babies. The model was similar to a High Standard 10 riot gun. Generates a muzzle velocity of 625 feet per second. Enough to blast through an armored vehicle—or blow a man's guts across the room."
Vi's skin feels two sizes too small. She remembers the way Powder used to hold the toy guns at the old Arcade. The way she'd cock her elbow and squint down the barrel, her tongue peeking from the corner of her mouth.
Just a kid.
And Silco turned her into a killer.
"How many…?" she whispers. "How many kids were with Ekko?"
"Six. All gangly brats. We had 'em rounded up in seconds. Then Silco ordered 'em dragged outside. There, as the Lanes watched, our men popped 'em, one by one, like fish in a barrel. Ekko got the ringside view. Held Silco's attention till the very end. Till his last little friend went belly-up, and his skull split like a melon. Ekko started crying. But Silco didn't want tears. He wanted to send a message. The old days of turf wars were over. The thefts, the break-ins, the midnight raids. They were all gonna end. And the Lanes were gonna toe the line. Or else."
Vi swallows a reflux of bile. "Ekko was a good kid. He didn't deserve—"
"He and his pals were a bunch of uppercut morons. What'd he think would happen? He and Jinx would ride off into the sunset on a pair of unicorns?" Sevika’s lips peel back from her teeth. "All of it could've been avoided if he'd minded his own damn business. Left Jinx be, and respected Silco's rules. But no. He wanted to play the big damn hero. To take Jinx away from the one man who had the resources—the balls—to keep her safe."
"Ekko was trying to protect her!"
"Bullshit. He was trying to 'fix' her. Same as you. He thought she'd be someplace different, and click! All that faulty wiring would untangle itself. Like she was a clockwork toy that needed a new set of springs." Disgust grits itself into Sevika's features. "People aren't gears and levers, Vi. And the past doesn't wash off like dirt. Everything Jinx did at the Cannery—the blood, the bodies—was a consequence of her own goddamn choices. There's no undoing that. Or unmaking her. A monster is… as a monster does."
The dreary summation of life and death in the Lanes—a lesson of brutal math that Vi has known since she was knee-high—doesn't keep the boiling tears from her eyes. Vi sinks her teeth into her lower lip until the pain stills the impulse to cry.
Or scream.
"Ekko got the message," Sevika goes on. "So did Jinx. She watched the whole thing. Watched the kids fall, one by one. Watched Ekko break down crying. Watched his rescue mission turn into what it was. Just a bunch of punks running around half-cocked. By the end, Ekko was a mess. Splattered in his friends' guts, and shaking like a leaf. He kept looking to Jinx, hoping against hope she'd help. That she'd do something. Anything. But she never did. She just stood by Silco's side. Didn't cry. Didn't even flinch. After the bodies were hauled off, Ekko got locked up the basement. Silco planned to put his skills to use. Get the little rat to work for Zaun. But it didn't work out. After a week, the kid slipped loose."
"How?"
"Good question." Sevika tips a shoulder. "I suspect Jinx knows the answer."
"You think… she helped him escape?"
"Like I said. Puppy love. Maybe she cared. Or maybe she thought it'd be funny. A final Fuck You." Her laugh holds a note of marvel. "Point is—the kid scarpered. Doubt he got very far. Likely some charitable soul took him in. Likely Giz himself. We sent the crew to his shop, but Giz denied harboring fugitives. And Silco didn't want to kill the only gunsmith in the Lanes. He was ready to let Giz be. Except the old man had nearly cost us five-thousand Hexes of Shimmer. An example had to be made. Silco ordered me to take his right eye. So I did." A shrug, but her expression, for a moment, is oddly spooked. "You wanna know the funny thing? The old man didn't scream. Not once. He said he understood the risks, and was willing to pay the price. Afterward, he told me something else, too. Said he didn't blame Jinx. Told me she'd have been happier with Ekko, but she was safer with Silco. And if those are a girl's only two options, then fuck it. It's the world at fault, not her."
Her face clears, then closes like a door. "Maybe he had a point. The fact is, Jinx made her choice. She did the night she chose to tell Silco about Ekko's plans. She did when she watched those kids die without lifting a finger. She did when she let Ekko loose, and took her place by Silco's side. Your sister knows the score, Vi. Always pick the winning team. No matter how much it hurts. Because the world doesn't give a shit about your tears. It's not gonna hold your hand and kiss your boo-boos. It'll push you down and grind you under, and it'll do it with a smile. And if those are your odds, it's better to have a monster in your corner—and firepower in your hands—than to have a hero with nothing but a fucking wrench in his."
Vi has no comeback handy; her tongue is a desiccated stub.
She thinks of Ekko as a boy. Quick with a quip; quicker with a smile. A boy who'd lost his family, then lost whatever remained. Who'd witnessed a slaughter at Silco's hands. Who'd gone on, as a full-blown adult, to fight the monster with everything he had.
No matter how much it hurt.
"Winning team, huh?" Her throat is raw. "What about the people caught in the middle? Where's their victory?"
"Them's the breaks. The past is the past. There's only one direction. Forward."
Sevika's delivery is a smooth; her eyes are flint. Like a gambler who's all in. Vi wonders what feeds her stoicism. Wrong choices in the past, where she'd been forced to live with the consequences. Or right ones, and their bitter pay-off. Vi thinks of the woman's history. Her father, the Wharfside Devil. His business: bootlegging, brawling, murder. His fate: a life sentence in Stillwater. 
Sevika, Vi thinks, is the byproduct of her father's errors.
Just as Powder is the byproduct of Vi's.
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Survivor Tessa AU (Murder Drones AU Concept???) [Episode 7 Spoilers]
So, you know when you want to make an AU but you also don't want to dedicate to the grueling process of actually writing a story and writing how we got to this part? No? Just me?
Well, regardless here are a couple of potential examples of scenes that could have unfolded
Click the "Keep reading" button if you either don't care or have already watched.
had Tessa been a survivor of the fall of Earth. I guess these are just concepts for potential scenes or something?
Unlikely Alliance
N: Fine. You're right. Maybe I'm not the real N. So I won't pretend to be. But that doesn't mean we can't help eachother! I want the patch to save Uzi, you want it to defeat Cyn. We can make this work!
Tessa: ... *Sigh* Fine. It would be smarter to work as a team for now I suppose.
*Suddenly Tessa presses the barrel of her gun right against the side of N's head*
Tessa: But I swear... if you even dare THINK, of trying to cross me... I'll kill both of you. Understand?!
N: Y-Yes... m'am.
Tessa: Good.
I Found You Faker
*The scene with "Tessa" and Uzi at the chapel unfolds the same until-*
"Tessa": No worries, makes my job easier.
*BANG*
*A gunshot reverberates throughout the chapel as a bullet rips through the back of "Tessa's" helmet and ejecting through her visor leaving a bulletwound behind*
*"Tessa" collapses to the ground bleeding heavily revealing the real Tessa standing behind her with a smoking gun*
Tessa: You must think you're real funny, huh Cyn? Running around impersonating me?!
Uzi: W-What?! W-Who?!
Tessa: Shut it! I'm getting to you. Where is the patch!?
Uzi: The what?!
Tessa: Don't have it? Bloody hell... Then who does?!
The Patch
*N reaches out expecting Tessa to hand over the crucifix usb but she steps back, drawing her gun on N with the other hand*
N: Tessa?
Tessa: No.
N: I-I thought you finally trusted me?!
Tessa: Trust you?! Please! You and that little monster took everything from me! Oh! But you weren't satisfied with just that! Now you oughta' go and destroy everything else while you're at it! Huh?!
N: Tessa... please-
Tessa: No. I won't let you have it. It means too much to me!
*Tessa clutches the crucifix tightly*
Tessa: This, this might be my only chance of finally destroying her. And I won't let you take it away from me too!
N: But... I thought... I thought we were friends.
Tessa: ... No. I was friends with the real N. Not you... You're just a fake...
N: ... Fine. I don't care what happens to me, but please! You have to help Uzi!
Tessa: Why should I? Doesn't she want to kill us all too?! Don't think I didn't overhear that. I'm onto you lot. Can't trust anyone but myself anymore. I learned from my past mistakes...
Old Enemies
Tessa: Fine... just do it already. Finish it!
Cyn: "Manical Laughter" I promised I wouldn't kill you, didn't I? Besides, I wouldn't get the satisfaction of watching you suffer if I do.
Cyn: ... But, there's still a chance. The Solver is pretty chill, maybe you could like join us or something.
Tessa: I'd rather DIE than to serve you!
Cyn: Oh well, it was worth a try. Have fun watching everything you know and love die for the second time. Loser.
I dunno what to call this one but I couldn't not include
*To Tessa most likely*
Cyn: I won't kill you and you can't kill me. I guess we can just sit in this room and glare at eachother until somebody drops dead. But I have a better idea.
End
I don't know what to call this. A proof of concept or something? I don't know. Because sadly I'm too lazy in addition to just not having enough time to make a full genuine AU about this but I thought the idea was interesting so I dunno, if people with more dedication or time on their hands want to steal these ideas for stories, art whatever. I don't care. You don't even need to tag me or credit me or anything. (And I mean that. It's not like my ideas are very original anyway.)
Basically in general the idea of this AU as I said at the start is the idea of the real Tessa having survived the destruction of the Earth. Now she's hellbent on destroying Cyn whom she perceives as the one that took everything and everyone she loved away from her.
She doesn't trust the disassembly drones in the slightest, not seeing them as her friends from the manor but as crude mockeries of her friends created by Cyn.
Cyn treats the entire thing like a game. Think of it like a sort've reverse Batman and Joker where Cyn refuses to kill Tessa due to her promise to not discard her. However all it does is fuel Tessa's unending rage when she laughs in her face and tosses her aside.
As for Tessa herself I like to imagine she's missing at least one hand and maybe even an eye. Of course her missing hand being replaced with a cybernetic one. (Definitely not a Berserk reference.)
That's about it. I imagine her personality would be totally different from Episode 5 Tessa as well. She'd probably still have funny moments or one liners but in general she'd probably be a lot more deadpan and monotone. When she's not being "Girl too angry to die" anyway. I imagine her in contrast to her past self being very quiet, cold and distant. Not wanting to be hurt again by becoming too attached to those around her.
All she wants is REVENGE. (You could even play with the idea of this desire slowly turning her into a monster too if you want to be really angsty with it.)
I imagine for the most part things would play out MOSTLY the same but with the added element of real Tessa also landing on Copper-9 to find the patch before Cyn (Disguised as Tessa) does. I guess serving as a rouge 4th element or something?
EDIT: I also like to imagine the real Tessa looks similar to canon "Tessa" (Which is just the fake Tessa in this version.) but without the stickers, hat and bow on her suit. Maybe a more visible oxygen system on the back too, like one of those big air tanks or astronaut backpacks. Something like that. Could get more creative with it, but yeah that's how I imagine it. I feel like the cybernetic hand probably wouldn't be visible due to the suit. As for the eye for me it alternates between it just being stuck closed like Guts or her having an eyepatch. (Personally I prefer it being permanently closed.)
Oh yeah of course also feel free to like... reblog... whatever. Give your thoughts? I guess? I don't know. I just wanted to get these ideas out of my head I guess and this was the most efficient way to do it.
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patrice-bergerons · 2 days
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I was thinking and what if I wrote a fic in which Bergy always knew Brad was gay and always told him that was perfectly ok but that he should keep it a secret (even from the team) if he wanted to have a good, long NHL career, and Brad wanted that so he did.
Fast forward a few years, and now it is present day, and after being so careful for so long, Brando catches Brad making out with a guy one day. Panicked, Brad calls Bergy for advice - Bergy predictably tells him to tell Brando it was a one time thing, it didn't mean anything, he is straight etc. Brad says OK but when he goes to talk to Brando, on a whim, he does the opposite: he owns it, he comes out. To his utter surprise, far from rejecting him, Brando is lovely about it, and he says, the rest of the team would be too, if and when Brad told them.
So Brad does, slowly at first and then with a giddy rush after because just like Brando said - after so many years spent in the shadows, thinking he would be shunned if people knew, he is met with nothing but a fierce acceptance and love.
He goes to talk to Bergy. He tells Bergy that he was wrong. For the first time in their relationship, it feels rather like an accusation. Since it's time to let loose, he also asks Bergy for confirmation of something he suspected: that Bergy knew, could tell, that Brad had a monster crush on him for years. Bergy doesn't need to say yes in words - Brad can read the answer on his face. "Well," Brad replies, cold, hurt, "I got over that so you don't need to worry."
Except there is just the one thing Brad doesn't know, which is that Bergy himself is queer too. It's just that when he was younger, he was told much the same, to hide, that there was no place in hockey for who he really is; he had a monster crush on Brad just the same, and thought (perhaps correctly) that if Brad knew he was queer, there was zero way they would be able to keep their hands off one another and it would destroy them both.
So he said nothing - and now he is left in this place where Brad is loved and accepted and cherished within an inch of his life by his team for exactly who he is, by a team who was once Bergy's and has since moved on without him, that he was the thing that kept Brad from this for years, and that now that he realises this is something they could get to have, it's too late -- Brad has made it very clear that he has moved on. 😊
(But has he actually?)
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horizon-verizon · 1 day
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I'm still trying to see this complexity that TG has, and that's why TG stans like them?? Alicent changes her opinion and personality every hour, is the complexity of her still having any consideration for Rhaenyra? not have imagined that a war would start? or just have the same crying expression? Please....!! What complexity does Helaena have? supposedly having dragon dreams and not knowing how to interpret them? the girl doesn't say anything in 1S and everyone just thinks she's weird, she doesn't do ANYTHING! Aemond's complexity is that he was bullied and became a presumptuous arrogant who killed his nephew? and I'm not even going to talk about Aegon..... he's an abusive drunk but yes.... he's a complex character
A)
I think that "interesting" for them is actually"potential for high drama, spectacle, and foolishness just because" for some TG stans who say the greens are more interesting. Yes, the green side is actually a complex group AND they rely on fear (amongst themselves and sometimes against the blacks) & strategy...because they have to strategic in order to try to justify some of their actions or wrest the power Rhaenyra's allowed or could accrue at court. To wittle her already-given status as heir to a more passive role. And beyond-court, they wished to convince the realm that Aegon was the rightful king both before and a little after he's crowned. The greens basically had the task to work past the whole "my heir should rule after me" deal that many lords wanted to stay as solid and meaningful as possible by precedent while also arguing on the precedent set by the GC of 101...which was itself a vote based on the adulthood as well as maleness of the candidate chosen. So, again they had to be strategic and shady and underhanded. And that will inevitably give us more drama.
Funny. Ironic.
We already know that the greens were not that successful with the convincing part even with Rhaenyra at Dragonstone and their long success at isolating her, bc it is only Alicent's move to hide Viserys' body, imprison courtiers and servants, hurry to search for Aegon that enables the greens to take the throne at the end AND Rhaenyra still was able to have many more supporters fighting before and after her death for her and her sons' claims.
Which if this is why you like the greens and not bc you think Aegon deserves the throne or ay sort of leadership [bc we see how unwilling and determined he was to not allow his grandfather to actually try to rule him in canon for the very paradigm that develops from Otto-Alicent's style & aims, they created their own monster], valid. I admit, they make the perfect antagonists & foils to the blacks and they do what they are supposed to do.
B)
People, not just TGs, have cited Alicent's past affecting how she views her own and Rhaenyra's motherhood, that chain of abuse. I'm fine with this, this is true. As for Aegon, I wrote a whole master post for what I think is his "deal" HERE, which is long but you can really sum it up as him trying to prove how great of a leader and man he is in lieu of the all the years he's been on the side and Rhaenyra was Viserys' heir. Yeah his life and misery and nastiness is in part bc Alicent wishes to prepare him to become king and "peacefully" reestablish the order of patriarchal feudal primogeniture/order so she'd not have to confront her own suffering and still materially benefit from it in "exchange". This sentence in itself reflects more on Alicent's complexity than Aegon's.
Aemond? Show!him, as presented, is interesting in that he's going to show a sort of vulnerability from his inflexible role as his side's militant "guard" and his worth being drawn mostly from that. He is there to be the support to Aegon's claim. hamliet describes what I am saying well. "Love is a transaction for the Hightowers". He seeks to "prove" himself and tries to make the glory of a warrior replace real love, but it can never so he's a ball of terror.
And love is a transaction, conditional and more so than on the black side because the greens really rely on putting their children's bodies to some sort of use, from Alicent to Otto to Aegon himself and there is no recourse or sign of deep bonds where each understands the other, comforts each other, reaffirms their emotions etc., or tries to make them happy just for the sake of it formed between any green member. (prob should have made this part part of the 1st paragraph but idk how to):
Helaena's body is made into a breeding machine for Aegon's claim for Otto
Aegon is a tool for Otto's desire to move the crown how he wants and is thus not really asked to be a great leader so much as it there & take his orders/suggestions
Alicent was a Helaena for Otto
Alicent uses her kids to stick it to Rhaenyra (show & book) or else ignores them bc of the troubled context from how they existed even as she genuinely loves them
Daeron--if the show will show that dynamic b/t Daeron and Ormund--is suggested to be more of a tool for his way into high prestige behind Alicent and Aegon's own rise, which is why Daeron's sent to Oldtown in the first place, away from his own family for years...yes I know about fosterage, but I'm speaking to the effects this has on the actual bonds b/t these family member s being reduced to transactions towards their goal towards power
So this troubling, repression, and denial of love is itself intoxicating, and thrilling to people who even don't have to be part of any team. I don't blame them.
C)
This issue for me is then:
Alicent could have been a lot more coherent without the inherent benevolent sexism of her becoming Rhaenyra's only friend and underdeveloped writing that makes her a lot less rational, deliberate, & mentally vulnerable to manipulation than she was in the book....all of which undermines her "complexity" bc she becomes less active as a character much sooner than she does in the book
people say all this ethically justifies the greens' actions, determine that their moral examinations of psycho-social conditions yield the correct and only conclusions to then just reveal that they just want their thoughts to be the general thought in contrary to the evidence in text, or hide behind their real biases and need for validation of those biases through the greens
Don't get me wrong, the black side aren't angels and do heinous actions...but it is simply true that they do not create the conditions for the war to begin and are also reacting to the usurpation.
Moreover, the blacks are pretty open when they can be to be about their actions and Rhaenyra is also already the heir. But the show didn't explore her life as a mother, what her relationship to womanhood as a mother AND heir looks like without Daemon there, or her kids' development after episode 5:
Rhaenyra being reduced to her body (advertisement of "Realm's Delight"; affairs and talk of them)
her kids' understanding, more of this from episode 6 and how exactly they interacted with Alicent's sons...how does Aegon enlist them and their frustrations against Aemond and from their perspective; court interactions, including those with Viserys and Harwin or any of the Strongs; education
Rhaenyra's perceived lack of ability that really just comes from her society evaluating her gender
[book] how she forms bonds with women around her, her relationship with Daemon and their journey towards each other, her relationship with the other Velaryons (Corlys and Laenor)
Daemon as a father -> how he "settles" but not really -> how he navigates/learns to raise another life form(s) & instill pride in their heritage and family after years of his beef with Viserys and losses and his resentments he tried to allay or "make up for" through social advancement and by becoming a warrior/has moved for mainly his own validation [idk how to say this concisely]
how he met and developed whatever relationship he had w/Laena...Corlys and Rhaenys' reactions to that (yes, bring Daemon & Laena back from Essos sooner)
The blacks comparatively do not have to be as underhanded and sneaky, and yet you will also have green stans argue that they are entitled, malicious, terrible threats to a perceived order (a projection--the greens are more that bc they are going against the king's word and what I said above about heirs and precedents).
This and majorly bc of how much opportunity we lost from the writing of this show focusing on developing the greens is also why they appear as "boring" or uninteresting while overbearing, scheming, manipulative agents of destruction at the same time to some people, even though they have more than their fair share of drama and angst from the very hierarchies they are perceived to totally benefit from.
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On Hannibal S3E03, Secondo:
Very interesting thing about Secondo: it begins and ends with a conversation between Hannibal and Bedelia about betrayal, forgiveness, and love.
On Betrayal and Forgiveness
One of the themes this episode seems to linger on is what it means to betray, to be betrayed, to forgive, and to be forgiven. It makes sense, given that Will's last words to Hannibal in Primavera are "I forgive you."
At the end of the Secondo, Hannibal says,
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about Mischa. What I understand from this is that Mischa's death influenced him to become a monster.
Similarly, Will's betrayal in Mizumono caused Hannibal to lose himself completely: not only did he try to kill Jack and Alana, he killed Abigail, and left Will nearly bleeding to death—all because he felt hurt and betrayed by what Will did.
If that is what it means, to Hannibal, to be betrayed, what does it mean to be forgiven?
On Betrayal and Love
In Hannibal's past, he is driven by his love for Mischa to become a monster because of what was done to her. In his present, he is driven by his love for Will to return back to being a monster, bare from his person suit, at a chance to be understood and accepted.
Here we see where the betrayal between Mischa and Will is similar: Hannibal loves them both, and that is what makes him 'betray himself' so to speak—do things he would not have done if not for them.
Interesting to note as well that this theme of betrayal, forgiveness, and love comes after Primavera—where the first course was the bitter taste of betrayal, the second course was the taste that comes after the sting of betrayal washes away: the echo of love. In other words—there can be no betrayal without love.
With that, I think this episode might be when both Hannibal and Will truly come to terms with how they have been changed by the other, and who the other has become to them.
On Forgiveness and Love
Will learning about Hannibal's past and accepting the parts of himself Hannibal has touched, and Hannibal taking in what it means for Will to be doing that and, as a result, revisiting his own childhood, ties the themes up perfectly. To revisit one of Hannibal and Bedelia's most iconic exchanges from the beginning of this episode:
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Both betrayal and forgiveness do not happen without love. With how Will and Hannibal learn to love each other by accepting the parts of themselves the other has touched, forgiveness comes as a consequence. But forgiveness doesn't erase betrayal—it just allows for a quieter moment for the betrayed and the betrayer to confront it.
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castiels-undercoat · 2 days
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I personally believe that so many people don't do retired Destiel correctly. Like most of the time when I see the trope it's like they just stop hunting ENTIRELY and they get a house and normal people jobs and just live like everyone else but I literally cannot Imagine that for them!
Like, especially Dean. One of his big issues with the whole Lisa thing was that he always went back to hunting every time he was given the opportunity, why is that? Because he always gers called back to hunting! He can't stay away from it forever, as much as Dean Winchester wants and apple pie life he also has this inherent responsibility for others that was ingrained in him his whole life! Hunting has literally been his entire life since he was FOUR years old, like that's not just something you walk away from entirely.
And on top of that even IF he was able to break through the unnecessary responsibility he feels toward others the bottom line is still that he will get beckoned back at least occasionally because so many of the people he loves are hunters. If he finds out someone he loves is in danger he isn't just gonna sit at home he's going to got hunt some monsters like be realllll. And this isn't even mentioning how broken crazy Cas is I could write a whole other essay on that 😭 all I'm saying I they are both crazy people and we don't talk about that very interesting side of them enough.
This also isn't to say that destiel can't 'retire' and get a house and real people jobs in fic but I feel like there at least has to be some 'Bobby wisdom' situation going on with them to make it believable for me.
(Also if you disagree with me that's okay bc I'm a stranger on the internet and my opinion doesn't matter! You write that normal destiel fic if that's what makes you happy. Pls dont get mad at me tho ily all)
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jlwritesstories · 1 day
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The eyes are the windows to the soul (part 2)
Masterlist
Previous <> Next
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Cameron, or Not-Cameron as you've started calling him in your head, has been nothing but wonderful to you. Warm. Caring. Loving. He treats you like a diety or gift he doesn't feel he deserves.
After realising that Cameron had been replaced, you made the split-second decision to act like nothing was wrong. Hopefully, you had surmised, that would lull Not-Cameron into a false sense of security and allow you to investigate where the real Cameron was. After all, in every horror movie you'd ever watched with monsters taking the place of people, they only ever seem to turn violent and start going after the heroes once their disguise has been broken.
At first you assumed the worst, but none of your internet searches turned up any unidentified dead bodies or missing person reports in your area.
You don't know what happened to the real Cameron, and you can hardly ask your neighbours or his friends.
Not-Cameron seems to have access to the real Cameron's memories. None of your "innocent" questioning had caused them to slip up or give anything away. They've been going to work at the investment firm and even going out for drinks with his friends in Cameron's place. No one has reported any strange occurrences and none of his work colleagues have called you to ask about "strange behaviour".
Everything has been surprisingly normal.
A few of their mannerisms even appear to be improvements on the original's behaviour. Not-Cameron remembers your favourite drink and muffin combo when they bring home takeout, asking how your day was and letting you vent about that one annoying customer who can't follow instructions. They flip your pillow to the cold side before bed every night. They compliment your outfits, eyes wide in awe (a little too wide but you try not to let the fact that you're freaking out show on your face). They ask you for permission every single time they want to be intimate or even give you a kiss, and they don't throw a fit or get angry when you refuse intimacy with the excuse that you are tired, they ask how you're feeling and what they can do to help and if you would be willing to compromise with holding hands or watching a movie together.
But they still act like Cameron. His mannerisms, his voice, his opinions all sound the same. They prefer action and detective thrillers to chick flicks, sweet over spicy, comfortable clothes over tight ones...just like the real Cameron.
Whatever Not-Cameron is, they seem to be committed to pretending to be your boyfriend long-term.
Some key things are very different, Not-Cameron is very touchy, one hand always hovering over you just waiting for permission, (you can tell they're holding back from something).
They seem to be working towards making friends with some of their work colleagues, people the real Cameron called annoying gannets.
They also got into a fight with some of Cameron's drinking buddies. You only found out because your neighbour's son happens to work at their favourite bar; as it turns out, Not-Cameron got into a fist-fight with two of his oldest friends, from what bystanders could tell, his friends had mentioned something about a "planned break-up", "a bet" and a "wet rag of a person"...and Not-Cameron flew into a rage.
They'd come back to the house late that night. They had seemed completely fine for someone who had been in a fight, but when you tentatively questioned what happened, they suddenly started apologising, saying they just love you so much, and miraculously gained a cut lip and bruised ribs when you weren't looking. They also looked at you with an exact replica of Cameron's puppy-dog eyes when asking if you would "kiss it better".
Not-Cameron is the boyfriend you wish the real Cameron had been, (the one you thought he was in the beginning).
However, there have been many strange occurrences after his arrival.
Voices in the house when no-one else is home, calling your name or reminding you to check your phone.
Strange clicking and cracking sounds in the night.
Shadows moving in the corner of your eye or a face hovering in the upper corner of doorways that is gone when you turn to look at it directly.
But even these strange occurances don't scare you too much.
Nothing has sought to harm you, and the few times you've tripped or burnt yourself when cooking due to being spooked by one of the occurrences, Not-Cameron acted extra sweet and apologetic those evenings, all for no particular reason he would say.
Even Not-Cameron himself sometimes slips up. You catch a glimpse of Not-Cameron's horrifying grinning countenance out of the corner of your eye, sometimes you swear you see their bones crack and shift under the skin when they move, and a few times during evening cuddles, (a new ritual you feel you can't get out of for fear they'll realise you know they're not the real Cameron), you could have sworn you caught them purring. Not to mention, about once a week, they disappear for the entire night and only return in the morning, you never hear the key in the door or them leaving and you never hear them return either.
Three months after Not-Cameron arrived you started believing you would never know what happened to the real Cameron. All lines of investigation had gone cold and you couldn't prod more for fear Not-Cameron would suddenly turn violent if he was exposed.
Sometimes you feel yourself slipping into the dream, believing that maybe all those quiet prayers were answered and Cameron has returned to the fun and loving man you fell for, but then the sight of those cold silvery eyes brings you back to reality. This is not Cameron, this is something else.
So far, your only place of complete privacy is in the bathroom. Occurrences don't occur when you're in there with the door shut, and Not-Cameron always asks permission to enter.
It seems Not-Cameron respects your boundaries, something the real Cameron sometimes struggled with.
A small quiet thought echoes, so loud, in your mind. A thought so sweet and hopeful, a thought that burns you from the inside and yet makes you feel light and giddy.
You almost hope the real Cameron never comes home.
Bile rises in your throat and you immediately turn and drop to your knees by the toilet.
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enemyoflactose · 2 days
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I Finished the Rest of Battle City
@lostsomewhereinthegarden wanted to be tagged
I was honestly getting a little tired of Marik and his problems by this point in the series which is why this took so long.
Voice acting:
Marik: THEY TOOK AWAY HIS SKELETOR VOICE
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Characters:
Yami: He's pretty much the same, only he completely forgives normal Marik.
Yugi: pretty much the same only he forgives normal Marik.
Joey: he died and I started crying. He's pretty good as always and was absolutely robbed of that victory.
Téa: she kept getting possessed.
Tristan: nothing new
Duke: nothing new
Ryou: ate all the donuts
Yami Bakura: he giggled and did nothing.
Ishizu: she yells in lowercase and I think that's funny
Odion: Maybe it's just the dub, but he never says he wants Marik to be safe because he loves him. He just says it's his duty and it's how he'll be accepted into his family. Idk. It's a little weird that this may be his and Marik's final moments and he doesn't once say that he loves him.
Marik: I hate you. I hate you so much.
Yami Marik: hype wore off this guy sucks and can't duel without plot armor. He also talks way too much and it gets on my nerves.
Seto Kaiba: he's so angry that Yugi beat him in his own tournament it's kinda funny. He is my savior in these last episodes.
Mokuba: he's here
Serenity: she's also here
Mai: ded
Roland: the MVP
Duels:
Duel 1: Four Way Duel
In this duel Joey, Kaiba, Yami, and Yami Marik are all dueling each other at the same time. For a little bit, everyone is targeting Joey, but Yami keeps defending him so they move on to attacking Marik.
Every time Yami defends Joey, Kaiba says something snarky and that makes Joey go "Hey man, let me duel on my own for Mai."
And Yami just begrudgingly does it. Like this man does not want Joey dueling Marik.
Marik is just in his own little corner going "AHAHAHAAA I'm so evil" and everyone ignores him.
Kaiba is trying to knock out someone. I forgot who. He wants to get all three Egyptian God Cards and make his deck even brickier.
Yami Marik loses.
Duel 2: Joey vs Yami Marik
🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥💪🪓💥PEAK💥🎉💯💯🔥💯💯❤️‍🔥⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡🦅🦅🦅
This duel is Yami Marik's only good duel, and by God is it Joey's second best (I like Joey vs Valon more).
In this duel, Yami Marik makes it a Shadow Game in which your energy gets drained if your monster is destroyed or loses attack points. Because Joey is a normal guy, he is weaker to this and therefore loses faster.
Some stuff happens and Joey was given Lava Golem. This makes him lose life points faster. Yami Marik is slowly burning him with other cards like nightmare wheel, but lava golem is cooler.
Yami Marik uses some worm things to make Joey lose more energy. Joey sacrifices them so he can summon Geilfried (idk how to spell it).
Yami Marik summons Ra Phoenix mode and destroys all of Joey's monsters. But my boy still stands.
Joey summons Gearfried and almost attacks, but then he dies.
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Duel 3: Kaiba vs Yami
I kept dozing off during this duel because I was worried about Joey, soooooo I kinda have no clue what happened other than like a few things.
Kaiba and Yami are dueling in a coliseum because Kaiba is crazy.
Kaiba gives Yami Change of Heart sometime during this duel. Which makes me wonder if he always had that on hand, or if he yoinked it from Bakura. Did Bakura ever get it back?
Kaiba so summons his blue eyes at some point in this duel. And Yami summons red eyes. And that Dark Magician Paladin thing.
During this duel Kaiba and Yami attack each other with their god cards and it takes them to a vision of the past in which the gods are turned to stone and the two of them are fighting.
Yami Marik is stuck in a wall. One time I read a fic where Yami Bakura stopped time and butt fucked him there. Wild.
Yami wins by means I don't remember and Mokuba and Kaiba fight about something.
INTERMISSION
Téa gets possessed again and goes to fight Yami Marik.
Kaiba gets annoyed at Ishizu and then Joey.
Mokuba is annoyed at Kaiba.
Yami Marik and Marik are fighting during Kaiba and Joey's duel.
TéaMarik does some sick flips and then Ishizu and Yami intervene and make Yami Marik go away.
Turns out Marik is a little regretful about being the absolute worst and wants to make things right by doing not much at all because he sucks and can't do shit without help.
Téa is back.
Duel 4: Kaiba vs Joey
Joey was pissing off Kaiba and that convinced a duel for third place.
Kaiba is winning.
Joey summons Blue Eyes White Dragon from Kaiba's graveyard and this makes Kaiba so angry.
Uuuuhhhh.... Joey told Mokuba that Kaiba doesn't care about him and that made me really upset.
Some stuff happens idk I wasn't paying attention I don't really care about this rivalry.
Kaiba won and Joey got made fun of.
Final duel: Yami Marik vs Yami Yugi
Shadow game
I don't remember the first part of this duel other than Marik and Yugi are at risk of death and like I get caring about Yugi dying, but Marik kinda deserves it.
So um... Every time Yami loses life points Yugi's body starts to disappear. Same thing with Marik.
Yami summons his poker knights and then summons Slifer.
Marik Summons Ra.
Yami destroys Ra and then Summons Obelisk with A card Kaiba gave him.
Marik summons Egyptian God slime and Yami never asks what it does despite the fact that he can.
Some stuff happens and Yami uses Ragnarok and destroys everything and Marik surrenders.
HOW AND WHY MARIK SURRENDERED
While this duel is happening, Normal Marik is talking to Odion's dead body and says that everything that happened was his (Marik's) fault, and that he's sorry.
A while later, Odion wakes up and goes to save Marik. And by save I mean give him a pep talk.
He goes on and on about how Marik is good and can beat the darkness inside of him.
Marik is given a new found strength and tells Yami to attack him.
Yami attacks him and Marik has one life point left. Marik surrenders and Yami Marik dies while begging.
Marik is forgiven and I still don't think he did much to deserve it.
Afterwards
After that duel, Marik apologizes again, and then takes his shirt off to show Yami the scriptures on his back.
Yami can't read it tho so it was kinda pointless.
Marik then gives him the millennium rod and ring and Yami Bakura's lame ass who was playing spin the bottle with Dark Magician said "Thank you" because he's polite and we love him.
Kaiba says he's going to blow up the island.
Joey and the gang go check on Mai and Serenity says she ain't wake up yet, but then she wakes up because Joey juST GOT PRANKED LMAO
The Gang then find Bakura eating food because there isn't much to eat in the Shadow Realm. That makes me think that the Shadow Realm is biased towards the Bakurae because they always only get a slap on the wrist for losing.
We don't see Bakura or the Ishtar's for the rest of the episode so I'm choosing to believe they were busy adopting Bakura into their family as Marik's husband.
It takes the gang way too long to realize that they can just take the helicopter and don't have to ride in the broken aircraft.
The island explodes and the Kaibas come out in a Blue Eyes jet (there is a card of it).
This makes Joey upset.
The squad get back to Domino and Marik apologizes again, and his siblings thank Yugi and his friends for helping them.
The End
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flashyzz · 2 days
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Take my mind out
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"Does it hurt..?"
She said as she stabbed it in the stomach, the blood poured out like an active waterfall. This was it, this was what she wanted right? All these years of fucking suffering she experienced should make her joyful that 'its' already dead? RIGHT. RiFTh. rIGth...?
Back then—
It treated you like you were a treasure. It made you feel the emotion you lacked, it was like a combination of fear and love. But of course it's just a monster, it never had feelings from the start. Everything was fake, a delusional paradise created by your mind.
"Ba-... Baby..." What? You said to it. This was the first encounter you had with this 'thing' you called a monster or so, you were emotionally broken during this period and didn't know how to react to these words it spouted.
Did it love you? Treat you more than just a toy, a good for nothing 'thing'? That's when the realization hit you, you were both similar, how? This is because both of you are just monsters to society. Monsters, huh.
You wonder what made you a monster, you were perfectly fine, beauty, intelligence and emotions you were the epitome of humanity yet you were labeled and beat to become the monster they say you are. But what made that thing a monster then?
Was it because of its appearance or behavior, maybe it's because she just isn't accepted, like you.
As you find the many reasons why society doesn't accept this monster, you notice from the corner of your eye that the 'thing' was gone. What the fuck!? Where did it go? Will it kill you, hunt you down as its prey or just murder for fun? You were infatuated on how it would behave, normally a person would fear this and try to escape and run away. But you, you were like a psychopath. Hm, maybe you finally lived up to your nickname 'mad scientist'.
The thing came back to you, mouth excessively salivating and blood dripping from the head. What was it really? And why does it behave like that. Those questions flooded your mind in a rush to discover and experiment on this thing. You laughed manically, what a monster you truly were.
Back to the thing you were looking directly at, it was still salivating and it looked at you like you were a big, juicy turkey just waiting to be devoured. "Wow.."
You said in an impressed manner, it was majestic. Like the king of beasts, the absolute best. You stared at each other for about ten seconds both of you trying to process what was actually happening. You stared at it like a Madman while it stared at you like it was the biggest predator around. "Ha— do I look like food to you? Stupid beast." You exclaimed.
It growled lowly as it circled you cautiously, you smiled, but it was not a normal smile, it was predatory, just like a maniac or madman would. "What would it take for you to eat me..?"
What the hell? Why were you asking this thing a question like that? You didn't want to die, you loved yourself, right? Oh, how wrong you truly were. It was like a fool was creating her own world just for her to fit in. And for sucks sake why would you even think about that question? Gosh, nevermind, you thought, let's go back to the monster your literally staring at right now.
Before you even knew it the monster was already closer to you, its breath was just horrible! Ick, what does this thing eat anyways? But you could feel it, the tension in the air seemed to grow stronger than two buff guys playing tug of war. Shit, its breath was hot and uneven plus you couldn't stand its smell! It almost made you puke!
Back to your conscious self—
Urgh, you tried to back your head away from its open salivating mouth, but it just responded by moving closer to you. What a pain in the ass, you didn't even know what this thing was and still it acted like it was attracted to you! This made you slightly irritated with it. As you fully backed yourself up from it, it stayed still like it saw something behind you. What does it see? More and more questions and wonders washed your mind. Gosh, this thing made you wonder the most random things! Why were you even thinking this!?
Everything was a mess in your mind, like it was scattered all over the floor. But one thing stood out from the trashy questions in your puzzled brain. Was this a nightmare.? It all made sense, the things you were seeing, you really went nuts huh!? "HAHAHAHAHA." You laughed like a psycho!
You were right.
The following day you went to visit the doctor as he refused to prescribe you medicine for the sleepless nights and un-waving nightmares you got from the pain in your head.
"I'm nuts, baby I'm mad! The craziest patient you've ever had!" You're crazy! My doctor responds. Why don't I just shut off my brain? What a let down you say to yourself as you stare at the corpse on the ground. It was fresh, who did this!? What the actual hell!? You started to cry. Who would do something so cruel to a person? Did you almost end up dying? Until you saw your own hands, bloodied.
Your face contorted into a manic smile, why were you smiling? Did you murder him? Suddenly you also began to laugh…
"Where is my prescription? Doctor, doctor please listen, my brain is in scatters, you can be Alice I'll be the Mad hatter." You whisper to the cold body beneath you.
Psychotic was what you were, as your mind created a personal world for you to blend in with the world you, while you were stuck in a white room in real life. It's so soft, you muttered softly. Everything was so soft and so bright, was this heaven? Did you die? You zone out in thoughts when a person suddenly enters the room. A god? No it was a doctor yet your twisted mind failed to notice that.
As the ‘god’ touches you, you scream. “DON'T TOUCH ME!”
”DON'T TOUCH ME!”
They pinned you down. They!? Since when did many more ‘gods’ join!? It was terrifying. They pounced on you like lions! Wait, lions? Weren't you just thinking about god's just a minute ago? Your mind really was in scatters. No, you were playing tag with them, that was it right? Yeah, yeah. They're your friends!
You started chasing them, playing tag was fun! They would scream playfully every single time you tagged them! How entertaining! “Tag your it!” You said whenever they got out. But the problem was why did the players get eliminated so easily….
…All you did remember was grabbing something.
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I got inspired by Melanie Martinez!! 😋
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