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#‘​it’s perfect it makes perfect sense this is definitely happening’
soaps-mohawk · 19 hours
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
What Could Have Been
Summary: You've reached the age you can be chosen. Little do you know your future has been planned out from the start.
Pairing: Philip Graves x reader
Word Count: 7, 358 words
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, a/b/o, Omegaverse, Alternate Universe, AU of an AU, suggestive content, mentioned predatory behaviors towards a minor, Philip Graves is a major creep, reader has a set age for plot (she is an adult), dubcon (pushing noncon at the end) but it's muddy water because a/b/o, kissing, touching, lingerie, panic, coercion, virginity and purity culture, fade to black because I couldn't write smut for this
A/N: I am...very sorry for this. Honestly I've been debating posting it but I wrote 7k words and I don't want that to go to waste. This is very...dark. A lot is implied but there's still some fairly disturbing content because of those things. The reader is 18 in this because of plot, but it still feels very...icky. Definitely recommend reading Chapter 34 before reading this to understand the context. Not necessary to read. Just an AU what if kind of bit for the story.
Also if you're finding this and you've never seen my stuff before, Hi! I highly recommend reading Cherry Red, Crimson Blood first before this for context otherwise some things might not make sense. I suppose it could be read as a stand alone but still, context is nice to have
What Ifs Masterlist | Directory
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“You’ve been chosen.” 
You had barely managed to get a bite in of breakfast when one of the staff members had pulled you away and led you to the director’s office. None of the omegas at FIOT particularly like him. He’s a small man, middle aged and balding. His scent is...not pleasant. Nutty with undertones of wet animals and whatever he ate for his meals that day. Every omega in the institute dreads being called to his office, being closed in with the offensive smell he permeates. 
You would have been experiencing that same disgust had it not been for your shock at his words. “What?” You breathe, eyes wide. 
“You’ve been chosen.” He repeats, folding his hands on his desk over a thin file. 
“So soon?” You ask, forgetting all decorum and manners you’ve had drilled into your head for two years. 
It’s your eighteenth birthday today. You just became old enough to be chosen a matter of hours ago. 
“This pack is very eager to claim you as their omega.” He says. “One of their betas will be by tomorrow to interview you.” 
Your heart flutters in your chest. While it’s shocking you were chosen so soon, this is what you had hoped for. Two years of training and drilling perfection into your head did pay off. You’ve hardly been on the available list more than a few hours and already there’s a pack interested in you. Something about it has a chill running down your spine, tickling at the base of your neck. You brush it off as shock at this all happening so soon. 
“You may return to breakfast.” The director says, going back to his paperwork. 
“Thank you, sir.” You say, exiting his office. 
It doesn’t feel like your feet touch the floor as you walk back to the mess hall, your body floating as you make your way through the halls. If tomorrow goes well, this will be the last day you spend in this building, this prison you’ve been confined to. They’ll be here as early as they can be tomorrow, if they’re this eager to choose you. 
The thought has something prickling in the back of your mind still. 
Who are they? Who is this eager to choose you? The must have known about you before you even showed up in the registry as being available. You’ve heard rumors that institutes will supply information about omegas to packs for the right price under the table. Information on omegas that aren’t old enough to be chosen. 
You wouldn’t be surprised if FIOT was one of those institutes. The packs that get their omegas here are packs that can pay a hefty price. There’s usually a waiting period while background checks are done and information has to be verified and packs have to interview with the director before omegas themselves can even be interviewed by the pack. You’ve seen it take weeks before. 
Whoever the alpha of this pack is...they knew about you before you became available. 
“What did the director want?” One of the omegas in your age group asks as you take your seat at the table again. Amanda. She cried for five days when she was brought in. 
The others at the table lean in close, like you’re about to reveal some big secret. 
“I’ve been chosen.” You tell them. The words almost seem like a foreign language on your tongue. 
They all cheer happily, getting looks from the wardens around the mess hall. 
“That’s amazing!” Chelsea says, wrapping her arms around you to squeeze you in a tight hug. 
“So soon?” Amanda asks as the congratulations die down. 
“Yeah.” You say. “They’re interviewing me tomorrow.” 
They all share looks, and you know they’re thinking the same thing you are. 
The rumors are true.
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“Impressive, isn’t she?” The warden for your dorm group says, as if you’re not sitting there too. She’s responsible for overseeing the small group of eight omegas you’re a part of. She’s the most knowledgeable about the omegas under her watchful eyes, and it’s standard practice for the wardens to sit in on the interviews between the pack beta and the omega being chosen. 
“Quite.” The beta says, looking over your thick file. Bryan, he’d introduced himself as. He’d shaken your hand, something you hadn’t been expecting. He acknowledged you as existing right away, something that doesn’t happen often in the stories you’ve heard about interviews, stories from omegas that had made it this far in the process, but were rejected in the end. “Excellent scores, quite extensive essays.” He says, flipping through the file. He’s not really looking at it. You can see his eyes just scanning the pages. He already knows. He came into the building with his answer. 
Whoever his alpha is has already seen your file. 
He closes the file, pushing it forward on the table. He’s looking at you. You can feel his eyes on you. Yours are lowered respectfully, no matter how badly you want to stare back at him. 
“To be honest, my alpha already made his decision before I got here.” Bryan says, leaning his arms on the table. “Your profile was enough to convince him.” 
“So, you’d like to move forward with the process?” Warden Jameson asks. 
“Yes.” He says, nodding. “She’s going to be a perfect fit.” 
You glance up at him, a warm smile on his face as he stares at you. It’s really happening. You really have been chosen. 
The next hour is a flurry of paperwork and signatures. None from you, of course, but from the beta of your new pack. The paperwork would be sent to your new alpha to sign off on and to finalize the decision once you meet him. No one has ever been sent back after that point, yet you can’t help the nervous flutter in your stomach. What if they don’t like you after all? What if they made a hasty decision and regret it as soon as they meet you? What if you mess everything up?
You follow Bryan and the director towards the entrance to the building, something you haven’t seen since your tour after your arrival. It’s off limits to omegas, several locked doors standing between them and freedom. 
Or more like to keep others out. 
There’s someone at the front desk as you pass by, and you turn to look out of curiosity. It’s a middle aged woman with blonde hair, dressed in a business suit. “Kate Laswell, here for an appointment with Director Jones.” 
You don’t get to hear anything else, ushered out into the world by the director. You’ve heard how giddy he gets about omegas leaving from staff, though you supposed that’s because it’s extra money in his pockets. The more omegas he can match and get out of FIOT, the more the government pays him. 
“I’m looking forward to hearing how she’s settling in.” The director says to Bryan as he hands off your small bag of meager belongings. 
“Of course.” Bryan says, setting it in the front seat of the car waiting out front. “My alpha will be in touch.” 
“Good.” He shakes Bryan’s hand before turning to you. “Good luck. I expect the best from you.” 
“Thank you, sir.” You say, dropping your gaze out of respect. 
Bryan opens the car door for you and you slide in, smoothing out your skirt. You’re still in your uniform, and you won’t be able to change until you get to where you’re going. If they let you change. It’s important they remember where you came from, where you were taught the things you’re supposed to know, where you were trained to be the perfect omega. As if they could forget where they paid for you. 
Bryan drives away from the institute, taking you away from the place that’s been your home for the last two years. It’s the first time you’ve been outside those walls since you were forced in, ripped away from your home the day after your presentation. You’ve thought about your family many times over the last two years. Where are they now? How are they doing? What have your siblings been up to? Have any of them presented as omegas too? 
Maybe your new alpha will let you contact them again. 
It’s wishful thinking. Most don’t. Not the kinds of alphas that buy from FIOT. 
“Nervous?” Bryan asks, glancing at you through the rearview mirror. 
“Yes, sir.” You say, smoothing your hands over your skirt. You’re projecting your scent without even realizing it. “Sorry, sir.” 
He smiles. “I don’t blame you. I’d be nervous too. Don’t worry, though. You’re going to a good place.” 
Despite his well meaning words, you can’t help but feel a bit of trepidation. Is it a good place? Or is it only a good place by beta’s standards? He can’t possibly know, he can’t possibly understand, unless there’s other omegas. 
You’re almost excited by the thought of being around other omegas in a pack. Having that chance to have friends and bond with others like you who know. Those who understand. 
You can’t help but stare as Bryan pulls into the parking garage of a very nice hotel. The cars in the parking garage are some of the most expensive you’ve ever seen. You’re not surprised, given the types of alphas that choose omegas from FIOT. Rich, important alphas looking for trophies to wave around. 
Look at me, look at my perfect omega. 
Bryan opens your door for you, helping you out of the car. He’s holding your bag in his hand, using the other to guide you towards the elevator. His hand is warm, even though your back is beginning to sweat a bit. You’re really nervous now, but you try to keep your scent under control. 
Your new life is about to begin, the life of a claimed omega. 
Unless they don’t like you. 
You have to do everything in your power to make sure they do.
The elevator ride seems to take a lifetime as you go up to a high floor overlooking the city. You’ve never stayed in a hotel this nice before. You’ve never even been in a building with this many floors before. 
Bryan leads you down the hall to a door, using the keycard to open it. He gives you a reassuring smile before pushing it open and guiding you through. It’s a suite, possibly the nicest hotel room you’ve ever seen. Bryan leads you to the small living area, the man you assume is your alpha seated on one of the couches. He’s sitting there casually, ankle crossed over his knee, his arm thrown over the back of the couch. There’s a grin on his face, your eyes widening as you stare at him. 
“Phil?” 
It comes out before you can stop it, all training and decorum leaving as you stare at him in shock. His smile widens, showing off perfect white teeth and dimples. He’s a bit older now than he had been back then, but it is him. 
“Hi darlin’.” He says, pushing himself up to stand. “Been a while.” 
Ten years or so. He was your dad’s best friend while he was stationed in Texas. He was at your house constantly, sitting around watching sports and standing in the backyard while your father barbequed. He was always friendly to you, always sitting just a little too close, always hovering. You hadn’t thought anything about it back then. You were too young to understand. 
Now you do. 
You drop your gaze as he approaches, trying to recover from your shock. You still have an impression to make, a role to fill. Calloused fingers cup your chin, lifting your face back up. You stare up into Phil’s bright blue eyes, just as friendly as you remember them being. 
“None of that.” He says softly. “We’re familiar with each other, aren’t we?” 
“Yes, sir.” You say, swallowing thickly. 
A small smile tugs at his lips before he releases you. “Come on, make yourself comfortable.” He motions to the couches. “We've got a few things to discuss.”
Nerves twist in your stomach as you move to the couches, tucking your skirt under you before you sit. The couch is comfortable, your body sinking into the cushion. It's far more comfortable than the chairs and benches at the institute. He takes a seat right next to you, draping an arm across the back of the couch behind you. 
His fingers curl under your chin again, turning your head so you're looking at him. Those bright blue eyes scan your face, taking in every detail.
“Those pictures didn't do you any justice.” He says. Your file is sitting on the table in front of you. “You've always been a pretty little thing.” His thumb traces your jaw, your stomach churning. “Look like your mom more than your dad. That's certainly not a bad thing.” He smirks. 
He holds you there for a moment staring into your eyes. Something tickles in the back of your mind as he stares at you, something instinctual like a warning. He releases you, dropping his hand back onto his lap. 
“It's good to see you again.” He says, the fingers of the hand behind you playing with the strands of your hair. “A lot has changed, hasn't it? I got old, you became an omega. I always knew you would. Your temperament wasn't right for an alpha. Always so calm and eager to please. You weren't rowdy like your brothers. Always such a sweet little thing.” His fingers trail over the back of one of your hands where it's draped in your lap. Your stomach clenches at his touch, something churning inside you, something you haven't felt since the last time you were around him. “You didn't deserve the way he treated you. It wasn't your fault for becoming what you are.”
He's talking about your father. 
“How did you-”
“I was the one he called.” Phil says simply. “Raging and carrying on about his useless child presenting as an omega.” He shakes his head. “So I pulled some strings, promised some favors, and got you into FIOT immediately, with the stipulation that you would be mine as soon as you were old enough.” He grins. “Now here we are!”
You swallow thickly, staring at him. “It was you?”
He nods. “Had to make sure you'd be taken care of until I could come yet you myself. Now you’re here.” His arm wraps tighter around you, the hand that had been brushing yours dropping to wrap around your thigh. You stare up at him as he leans down slightly closer to you. He smells just like you remember. Woody with the rich scent of chocolate underneath. “I will take care of you.” He says, looking pointedly into your eyes. “You'll want for nothing and you'll be happy.”
Will you? 
You break away first, your eyes dropping to stare at the hand that’s gripping your thigh, fingers indenting the skin through your tights. It feels like a threat, a silent reminder of the power dynamic between you, something he won’t say out loud. He’s an alpha, you’re only an omega. He has control over you, he can dictate your entire life now that you’ve been chosen by him. You belong to him, just as he’s wanted. 
He’s been waiting longer than two years. 
“You hungry?” He asks, his entire demeanor suddenly shifting. 
You are hungry. You had left the institute just before lunch, and you had barely been able to eat breakfast because of the nerves. You nod, deciding telling the truth is better than to try to lie to him early on. “Yes, sir.” 
He gives you a grin. “You don’t have to be so formal. You can call me Phil, just like old times.” He finally releases you, leaning forward to grab a tri-fold menu off the table. “Pick whatever you like.” He says, putting it in your hands. “I’ll be right back.” 
He gets up from the couch and you watch him go before turning back to the menu. The prices make your stomach churn. Your family wasn’t necessarily poor, but with so many of you, you certainly weren’t taking very many vacations very often. Your family moved around so much there wasn’t much of a need to take vacations either. 
You’re not even sure what to do, looking at the menu. What was acceptable? What if you ordered something too expensive. With a hotel room like this, you’re not sure you could order something too expensive. You’re not even quite sure what Phil does anymore. You remember overhearing a conversation he had with your dad about joining MARSOC before he disappeared from your lives. Is he still involved with the military? Did he leave and enter a new career field, one that allows him to stay in places like this? 
You might never know. It’s not your job to know things like that. 
You just need to know how to serve your alpha and take care of him, follow his orders and give him pups when he desires them. Be a good omega and do whatever it is he wants. Your wants don’t matter, only your alpha’s. 
“Decide what you want?” Phil asks, appearing in front of you again. 
You jump in surprise, having been so caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed him approaching. You’ll have to break that habit and fast. “Yes.” You say, even though you hadn’t even read through the menu in its entirety. 
You try to stop your hands from shaking, picking out the first thing your eyes land on. You’re not even quite sure what it is or if you’ll like it. You needed an answer and you gave it to him. Just exactly what he wanted. 
That is your job, after all. 
Give him exactly what he wants. 
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The bed looks plush and comfortable, larger than you’ve slept on in a long time. The beds at FIOT weren’t too terribly uncomfortable, but you’ve gotten so used to sharing a room it seems strange to be sleeping on your own. 
That’s not the only reason it feels strange. 
“Are you not going to-” 
Phil cuts you off before you can finish, not even needing to know what you were going to ask. “No. Not here.” He says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s for when we’re at home. Besides,” He smooths a hand over your hair. “You’ve had a long day.” 
He stares down at you for a moment, and you almost think he’s changing his mind, deciding he can’t wait until you’re back in Texas. Instead he takes a step back, turning to the dresser your bag had been set on. There’s other shopping bags next to it, things you hadn't even noticed when you walked in. 
You had been too focused on the bed. 
“Bryan picked up some clothes.” He turns back to look at you, his hand trailing down your back. “As cute as the uniform is, I’d rather you be comfortable.” 
You can see it in his eyes. He’s picturing you in it, and not standing before him. It makes your skin crawl. 
“Get some sleep.” He says, moving his hand from your lower back. “We’ve got an early flight tomorrow. You need anything, I’m across the hall and Bryan’s next door.” 
You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Thank you, Phil.” 
He grins down at you, dimples indenting in his cheeks. “Of course, darlin’.” 
You stare at the door for a minute after he closes it, holding your breath. You half expect him to come back in, change his mind and decide he’d rather do it here. He could barge in, force you down on the bed and you wouldn’t be able to do anything. You’re not supposed to do anything. 
Good omegas do as they’re told. Good omegas don’t fight back. 
You wish the door had a lock on it. 
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You jolt awake as you’re jostled in your seat. You let out a quiet sound, not quite sure where you even are, much less what’s going on. 
“Just a bit of turbulence.” A voice says, pushing your head to rest against a shoulder again. 
Right. You’re on a plane heading towards Dallas. You didn’t realize you fell asleep, your head resting on Phil’s shoulder. He smells like scent blockers, all three of you do. The plane is a cocktail of scents, the chemical burn of scent blocker mixed with the ugly mesh of too many scents in one confined space. Not everyone has the decency to use scent blockers while traveling. You’ve always hated planes for that reason. 
You stretch your legs out as much as you can, your knee bumping the tray lightly. It had been lowered, you assume, at some point while you were asleep. Your book is sitting on it, the book you had been reading before you fell asleep. It’s the only one you own, a worn out copy you stole from FIOT’s library during your first week and never returned. The cover is faded and nearly falling off, the pages yellowed and stiff from how many times it’s been read over the last two years. 
You’d had a brief discussion about it before you descended into silence, Phil promising you all the books your heart desires once you get to his home. Your home. 
It’s your home now too. You’re no longer attached to your family, no longer attached to the institute. Phil is your world now, and you exist solely in his sphere. You’re dependent on him, and once the claim is made and the paperwork is filed, you will be his forever. 
There won’t be any going back. 
Phil will never change his mind. 
The plane jostles again and you grip the arm resting on your leg out of instinct. 
“Easy.” Phil shushes you, his lips brushing your forehead. His hand closes around yours, squeezing it gently. “Haven’t flown much, have you?” 
“Twice.” You say, your fully awake brain realizing you’re still leaning against his shoulder, but you’re not sure you should move. He obviously likes it if he let it happen. Will he get mad if you try to move? Would he reprimand you on the plane, even if you are quite spaced out in first class? 
He hums, resting his cheek on your head. “We’ll go on lots of flights together. I’ll take you all over the world.” 
Would he take you to see your family again? 
They were friends once. He has to at least know where they are and what they’re doing. Would he do that for you? Or is he going to keep you isolated as expected to prevent those bonds from forming again. Your only bonds should be with him and his pack. Not your old pack that you left behind for a reason. 
You don’t know anything about his pack. 
You know he has a beta, Bryan, his most trusted beta, from the looks of it. How many others are there? How many other alphas and betas? Is he head alpha, or is there someone else? You can’t imagine Phil not being in charge. He always seemed to take command of a room, even with other alphas. Even with your dad. 
Are there other omegas in his pack? Or will you be alone, surrounded by alphas and betas? 
Can you even ask him? Or is he saving that for later, when you’re at his home. Would he get annoyed if you asked? Would it ruin his plan that he obviously has laid out? 
Your name being said brings you back to reality, your head tilting to look up at Phil. He’s staring down at you, his eyebrows raised. 
“Welcome back.” He says, and for a second you wonder if you fell asleep again. “Lost in your head there, huh?” 
You swallow thickly. “Yeah. My instructors said I have a lot of strengths, but my one fault is I think too much. Sometimes they’d say I’m sucking all the thoughts out of the room. Though, I think that was less of an insult towards me.” 
Phil chuckles. “Got a lot of things going on in that head of yours. Just don’t let it get you too distracted. Hate for something to happen to you.” He presses a kiss to your forehead again as the plane begins its descent. 
His words almost feel like a threat again, like a silent warning that something will happen if you don’t stop thinking so much. Will he try to fix that habit for you? Will he try to break you of that? Good omegas don’t have to think, they know and they act. An omega with too many thoughts is too independent. Alphas don’t like independent omegas. They want someone to listen and do as they're told, not question their orders. 
You can’t help but sense the silent threat that radiates from him, the undertone of danger that has warning bells going off in your head. He’s been nice and polite and caring so far. 
How long will that last once you’re in the privacy of his home? 
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It’s a nice neighborhood. Nicer than you’ve ever lived in, at least. The houses are big, the cars parked outside are nice, the lawns are pristine. It’s all very picturesque, it all feels very...manufactured. 
Phil drives to the end of the cul de sac, pulling into the driveway of one of the two houses facing the rest of the street. There’s an American flag hung up on the porch rustling with the soft breeze. It’s warm outside, something you haven’t missed. It’s been years since you’ve lived in Texas, ten almost. You had been eight years old when your father received his next change of station orders and your family packed up and moved again. 
That had just been shortly after Phil disappeared from your family’s lives. 
Phil pulls into the garage, parking the SUV next to a rather expensive looking classic sports car. You stare at it for a moment, questioning just what Phil does and how much he makes from doing it. You’re not sure you want to know. 
You fumble with the seatbelt as Bryan opens the door for you, blinking yourself out of your haze. He offers a hand and you let him help you out of the car to not seem rude. Phil gives you a small smile as you approach him. 
He cups your chin, staring down at your face. “Jet lagged?” He asks, his thumb stroking your jaw before letting you go. 
Jet lagged, confused, uncomfortable, unsure. All of the above. 
“Yes.” You nod. 
“Come on. I’ll give you a tour and then you can nap.” He says, slinging an arm around your shoulders. 
He opens the door into the house, unlocked, you note. The inside is nice. Clean, pristine, staged looking. You’re not sure if anyone even lives in the house. You can’t help but wonder if Phil bought this house just for this moment. 
“Cleaners come twice a week.” He says as he leads you around the first floor. “This whole space is yours, except for this room.” He says pointing out a door at the end of one hallway. “This is my office. Door’s always locked at all times. No one is allowed in besides me. You see anyone trying to get in, you tell me right away. Understood?” 
You nod. The idea of what could be behind that door has a shiver running down your spine.
“Good girl.” He says, booping your nose. “Now, for the best part.” 
He leads you upstairs, giving you a quick tour of guest bedrooms that don’t look like they’ve been touched, bathrooms far too clean to have ever been used. Why he needs so much space is beyond you. 
No, you know why. 
He leads you down to the end of a hallway, a door looming in front of you. You know what’s behind it. It’s what’s been clawing at you since the plane landed, since the drive from the airport, since you stepped foot in Phil’s home. Your home. 
It’s nice inside. Clean, well organized. It looks like a stage in a movie. The bed is large, larger than necessary you think. The comforter is a deep navy with nothing but the necessary amount of pillows on it. There’s a chair in the corner that doesn’t look like it’s ever been sat in. A TV hangs on the wall across from the bed and a dresser sits between two doors on the far wall. The closet and bathroom you assume. It’s spacious, but not comforting. 
That’s your job. 
“Don’t worry, you can add your womanly touch to it later.” Phil says, stepping up behind you. You can’t hide the way your body tenses as his hands slide up your arms. His breath fans over your ear as he leans down, pressing his face against your neck. “We’re going to make good use of this room.” His lips brush your throat, tongue darting out to lick your scent gland. He hums appreciatively. “Sweeter than I remember, those strawberries.” His arms wrap around you, pinning your back against his chest. “We were made for each other.” 
Your stomach clenches as his scent intensifies, blending with yours. You try not to panic as his lips drag up the side of your neck. There’s no stopping him. There’s no convincing him to wait. 
He presses his nose into your hair, taking a deep breath in. “Get some rest.” He finally releases you. “I’ve got some things to take care of, and I don’t doubt the girls will want to take you shopping.” 
“Girls?” You frown, turning to face him. 
“The other pack omegas. They’re excited to finally meet you.” 
Oh. You haven’t even thought about the pack or how big it is or its dynamics. Everything has happened so quickly, there’s been no time for discussions like that. You suppose you should have that conversation soon. Though, it’s been a long day already and he’s not wrong. You do need some rest. 
‘A good night’s sleep is essential for omegas to do their jobs effectively. No alpha wants a whiny omega.’ 
He brushes his hand over your hair, giving you a soft smile. “Take a nap. You look like you need one.” He presses a kiss to your forehead before he leaves, closing the door behind him. You stare at it for a long moment, half expecting him to change his mind, but you can hear him going down the stairs. You can hear everything in the silence of the house. It’s almost too quiet after the constant noise of the institute. There’s always someone talking, moving around, making noise. Even at night it was never truly quiet. 
Now the silence is almost loud in your ears. 
It won’t be silent forever. 
You stare at the bed, half tempted to just curl up on the floor. He would be mad if you slept in one of the guest rooms. He’d know immediately. You’ll have to brave the bed. Better to do it now than when you have no choice. 
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“Look at you!” Hands squeeze your arms. There’s so many scents floating around you, yet it’s comforting. You’re among your own again. “Oh, you’re just a baby aren’t you?” 
Natalie, her name is. You had been introduced in a flurry of excitement, and you had lost track of most of their names. Doesn’t matter, you’ll learn them all eventually. 
Her alpha is Osmond, ‘Oz’ as he’d told you to call him, Phil’s second alpha. Not necessarily a large man, but highly intimidating nonetheless. You’d guess Natalie to be in her 30s, though you’ve never been good at guessing ages. 
“How old are you, sweetie?” She asks, squeezing your arms again. She’s trying to comfort you in your obvious state of overwhelm. 
“Eighteen.” You answer, staring up at her. 
Something flashes across her face, but it disappears as quickly as it arrived. “You are a baby.” She wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, we’ve got a lot to cover and we’ve got some errands to run.” 
There’s a lot of omegas. Phil had finally broken down the pack and its dynamics over a late lunch, even introducing you to a few members on your way to Oz’s house. You had your suspicions that Phil was pack alpha, and you were right. His presence, the kind of power he radiates. You’re going to be the head omega once Phil has claimed you. Natalie has been serving that position, as second alpha’s omega. 
You’re not sure you want to take it from her. 
They’re all older than you, if by only a couple of years. You do feel like a baby in their midst, so unprepared and unsure. It’s natural to feel that way, you were taught. There’s a shift, a change in dynamics, an adjustment period in the pack when a new omega is added. 
Why couldn’t Phil have just been the family alpha type?
“Phil says you’ve known him for a while.” Anna, Marcus’ omega, says. 
You nod. “He was friends with my dad when he was stationed in Fort Worth.” 
“That was a while ago.” Jenny says. 
“About ten years.” You say. 
Silence falls in the room for a moment. It’s a tense silence, speaking volumes of their understanding and the realization of the situation. They won’t say anything. They can’t say anything. 
“Well,” Natalie says, breaking the silence. “We’re glad you’re here. If you need anything at all, you’ve got us now.” She wraps her arms around you again. She reminds you a bit of your mother, perhaps if your mother hadn’t been constrained by the controlling nature of your father. “All omegas truly have is each other, right?” 
The others agree with her, and you can’t deny it. What do omegas really have? Nothing their alphas don’t want them to have. Nothing parents, institutes, anyone in control don’t want them to have. 
All we really have is each other. 
“I mean it.” Natalie says. “Anything at all.” 
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They are excited to take you shopping, despite the heaviness of the conversation that had transpired. They spoil you, throwing bags and bags in the back of the SUV, brushing off any concerns about money. Anything you want or need, you get several of them. It’s overwhelming after never getting anything but the bare necessities and what the institute wants you to have. 
Marcus, one of the higher ranking alphas in the pack, follows everyone around like a security detail. You had been concerned upon hearing only one alpha was accompanying you...until you saw Marcus for the first time. He’s big. Very big. Tall and bulky, he’s the perfect specimen of an alpha. Many young omegas’ dream alpha. Marcus is intimidating, letting off a dangerous air which causes most that pass your group to not even give you a second glance. 
He escorts your small group around, offering up no question or complaint. You almost wish he was going to be your alpha, but then again, you know almost nothing about him. You don’t even really know that much about Phil. Most of the things you know are things you overheard from conversations he had with your father. But how trustworthy are those things, really? You hadn’t understood much until now. Now it all makes sense. 
A lot of things make sense now. 
Natalie stands with you on the sidewalk as Marcus and Bryan carry load after load of bags into Phil’s house. Your house. You’re scared for what’s coming tonight. Phil won’t wait. He won’t put things off, he won’t hold off until your first heat. He’ll want to make things official now, stake his claim as soon as possible. He’s waited ten years for this. 
Natalie smiles softly down at you, a knowing look in her eyes. “Nervous?” She asks, picking up on your uneasy energy. 
You nod, trying to stop the tears from pooling in your eyes. Good omegas serve their alphas, no matter what. 
“I know what that’s like. I was scared shitless too.” She laughs quietly. “I think Oz was just as nervous too. Just relax and breathe. Phil will take care of you. That I can be confident about.” Her smile turns almost bittersweet. She knows. She understands. “You’ll be alright. I’ll come by tomorrow morning, okay?” 
You nod, trying to suppress your nervousness. Natalie will understand, though you’re not so sure Phil will. 
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You look terrified as you stare at your reflection in the mirror. You bathed an hour ago and yet you still can’t quite bring yourself to leave the bathroom. You smooth your hands over the silk hugging your skin for the thousandth time. You’re shocked you haven’t worn through the thin fabric yet with your sweaty palms. 
Your eyes dart down to the sink, your stomach churning wildly as the bedroom door closes. Phil is back. You’ll have to leave the bathroom soon. You can’t spend the whole night behind the locked door. 
You don’t doubt he��d break it down eventually. 
Then he’ll be angry. 
You let out a long breath, curling your hands into fists to stop them from shaking. You have to do this. This is your job, your duty as an omega. Serve your alpha and make him happy. Be a good omega and do what he says. Obedience is an omega’s purpose. This is always what was going to happen, be it with Phil or with a stranger. Perhaps there is a small comfort in the fact you know Phil. You’re familiar with him. Why would he wait ten years for you just to hurt you? 
The little food you managed to eat churns uncomfortably in your stomach. Phil had treated you to dinner before he’d left again, giving you time to clean up and prepare yourself for tonight. For right now. 
You spritz more scent-enhancing perfume on your skin before you let out a long breath. You try to fix your face, not look quite so terrified, but you’re not sure you can hold it as you unlock the door, turning the knob. 
The light in the closet is on, the door half open. Phil must be in there, likely having to maneuver around bags. You’d unpacked some things and put them away, but you’d nearly had a breakdown when you reached the lingerie store bags. You’re wearing some of it now, the silk robe and little white number your fellow omegas had gotten you. Specifically for tonight, you think. You won’t be wearing it again. 
The closet door opens fully, Phil standing there in nothing but his jeans. His eyes trail your body as you stand there awkwardly in the middle of the room. His teeth sink into his lip, his scent thickening. You’re trying to look anywhere but at him but you can’t help the way your eyes are drawn to his form. He’s just as tall and muscular as you remember, more lean than bulky like your father had been. His skin is pale, though you can’t imagine him spending much time lounging in the backyard by the pool. Under the awning at the grill with a beer in hand as he used to do, that you can picture. 
“Look at you.” He says, turning off the light before stepping fully out of the closet. “All wrapped up like a present just for me.” 
You feel like vomiting as he approaches you slowly. You feel like a rabbit trapped in the sights of a hungry wolf, too afraid to run, too afraid to fight back. You’re going to be devoured and there’s no stopping it. 
You jump as his hand cups your face, your eyes darting up to his. There’s a soft look in them, an attempt at soothing your fear. There’s nothing he can do to make this easier, though, other than just get it over with. 
It’ll get easier. That’s what Anna told you. Eventually your omega will be happy, content with a good alpha and a pack. It’s just an adjustment. That’s why it’s recommended to wait when adding a new omega. Get past the adjustment period before reaching this stage. 
How do you stop an alpha that’s been waiting ten years? 
Most alphas don’t wait anyway. 
“Don’t be scared, darlin’.” He says, lips tilting up in a smile. “I’ll take good care of you.” 
His fingers tug at the ties of the robe around your waist, your heart thudding in your chest. You’re shocked he can’t hear it. It’s pulsing in your ears, nearly blocking out all sound as he pulls the tie free, revealing your lacy lingerie underneath. He lets out a low whistle as he pushes the robe off your shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. 
“Look. At. You.” He says, enunciating each word. His hands slide down your sides, brushing lace and smooth skin. “Can’t wait much longer.” He nearly groans, his gaze darkening. He steps up closer to you, your gaze locked on his. You can’t look down, you can’t stare at the tent in his jeans, you can’t stare at the bulge that’s brushing against your pelvis with every breath. “You ever done this before?” He asks. 
You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “N-No.” 
“No?” He raises a brow. “Not even a kiss?” 
You shake your head. 
“Pure little thing, all for me.” He nearly growls, pushing his body fully against yours. His hand cups the side of your neck, something tingling in the back of your brain as his fingers brush the sensitive skin on the back of your neck. 
You’re distracted from that tingle though as he kisses you, his lips rough against yours. You’re not sure what to do, but he doesn’t seem to care. His other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you tight against him. Your stomach is churning, not entirely from nerves anymore as his scent completely takes over, clouding your mind. Despite your nerves and hesitation, your omega purrs appreciatively. He smells good, like alpha. It’s exactly what your omega wants, what she’s been craving. 
“Fuck,” He groans against your lips, hands tugging at the lace covering your lower back. “So fucking sweet.” He bites at your lower lip, harder than you're expecting. You let out a quiet nose but that only seems to encourage him. 
He pulls away from you, turning you towards the bed. Your palms fall against the mattress to catch yourself. The comforter has been pulled down, your hands falling against the sheets. White sheets. 
Phil’s hands drag up your back until it reaches the top of the lace. He rips it easily, tearing it down the back before he pushes it off your shoulders. His hands run over your skin as he pushes the lace from your body, his back meeting your chest. His skin is warm against yours, his bulge pushing up against your ass at this angle. 
“Sweet little omega.” He growls, pressing his face into your neck, inhaling deeply. “All for me. All mine, aren’t you?” 
“Yes, alpha.” You say, fingers curling into the sheet beneath your hands. 
He hums appreciatively, nipping at the skin over your scent gland. You can’t help but begin to feel a stirring in your stomach. It feels good, despite everything. Your omega is growing complacent, the promise of what’s coming not nearly quite so frightening. 
It gets easier. 
Phil’s hands rest on your stomach, pushing your body tight against his. “Can’t wait for your next heat.” He groans, pushing his hips against your ass. “Gonna pump you full until it takes, give you a pup like you’ll be begging for. Keep you pumped full, just like your mama, huh. You’ll give me a big pack, won’t you?” 
You’re glad he can’t see your face as he holds you there, your eyes glued to the white sheet in front of you. You desperately fight back the tears blurring your vision. 
“Yes, alpha.” 
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soberpluto · 2 days
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Examining Neptune's Spell
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Apologies for not being here after so much time, but now I'm back and very thrilled to share this with you all! I'm hopeful many can find this helpful.
Unnecesary context aside, just recently I was having a long and deep conversation with a friend of mine about my semi-recurring mini existential crises. After hearing me patiently, with the dear intention of making me realize I was drowning in my tiny glass of water, he simply (and brilliantly) replied:
"I think you're problem is that you have unrealistic expectations about yourself."
Any attempt to blurt out in self-defense ceased instantly because of how deep these words sunk in my mind. I stared into the wall before for me and felt how the missing puzzle piece finally dropped into the perfect spot. Obviously, the thought of having my sun in Cancer and Neptune in almost exact opposition popped inside, and it took a WHOLE new dimmension. How could this statement not be true?! OF COURSE he was right! It's not that I wasn't told that before or haven't read about it multiple times in my astrology studies, but the truth is, (a very Neptunian thing now that I think about it) I didn't believe it quite applied to me. Because I don't like to feel mediocre and because I think of myself as a spiritual and highly self-aware woman, I was convinced that holding myself to "unrealistic standards" was definitely NOT the reason that triggered me to want fleed to a desert islands at times when reality felt like too much. It was bitterly humorous when I realized I evidently missed the fact that Neptune was making a hell of a job doing what he does best: casting its spells of illusion and glittery distorted beliefs about how things were "supposed to be" in a surprisingly unadverted way into my life. I was truly relieved to actually understand (or accept, better said) why trying to have a simple and happy life seemed too tricky at times. It all made sense.
Now, let me introduce Neptune, if you happen to be unacquainted.
Neptune in astrology is like the ultimate dream weaver, spinning a web of intuition, imagination, and mystery. It’s the planet of all things ethereal, where reality gets a little blurry, and you’re invited to dive into the deep end of fantasy, spirituality, and idealism. Neptune whispers, "What if?" and suddenly, we're seeing the world through a kaleidoscope of possibilities, but a "little" foggy on the details. We're all influenced by Neptune one way or another, but when it touches personal planets or points in our charts, it’s like life hands us a pair of customized rose-colored glasses, but the prescription is way off. Suddenly, everything feels a bit magical, like we're starring in your own fairytale, except the castle is made of mist, the prince might just be a mirage, and that enchanted forest? It’s actually a parking lot.
But why bother making us feel loony? On a more serious note, our master illusionist possesses the higher purpose of awakening our connection to something greater than the everyday grind. It gently pulls us out of the rigid boundaries of reality and whispers, "There’s more to life than meets the eye." It invites us to explore the depths of our imagination, spirituality, and compassion, blurring the lines between self and universe. The illusions it creates are really a nudge to dissolve our ego’s grip, helping us see beyond the material and embrace a higher sense of love, creativity, and unity with the cosmos.
As inspiring and touching as it sounds, the catch is that fulfilling Neptune’s mission can feel like chasing fog—just when we think we’ve got a handle on it, it slips through our fingers. Neptune wants us to transcend reality and connect with the divine, but let’s be real: that’s not exactly a day-to-day, grocery-list-friendly goal. For someone with heavy Neptune influence, this pursuit of higher meaning can be disorienting, leaving them feeling lost in a sea of "what ifs" and "maybes." And thanks to its grandeur idealism, it can push people to be hypersensitive, highly fearful of failure and completely inaccurate with what they may achieve in a day, let alone a lifetime!
For a Neptunian, the intuitive desire to be flawless and sufficient does not come from wordly expectations, but from a place of soulful calling that more often unconsciously than consciously tells them they're limitless beings living in a limited reality. And this is exactly the greatest challenge of all: to accept that the truth must be known while respecting the illusion, just as a spiritual teacher Michael Mirdad states.
That said, you can imagine what happens when mystical and whimsical Neptune gets cozy with your personal planets. Let's see in detail how it sprinkles its glitter them:
Sun
Soft Aspects: With soft aspects, your Sun is shining brighter than ever! Neptune sprinkles fairy dust on your creativity and confidence, making you feel like a superstar in your own musical. It’s all about embracing your spiritual side and believing that you can conquer the world—cape optional!
Hard Aspects: You’re the artist of your own identity, but the canvas keeps shifting. One day you’re an astronaut, the next day you’re a poet, and by the end of the week, you’re contemplating becoming a full-time mystic. Neptune tells you, "Be everything," but sometimes that just leaves you wondering, "Who am I, really?"
Moon
Soft Aspects: Your emotions flow like a gentle river, and you’re tuned in to everyone’s feelings like a super empath (you could be a cool wizard/witch or clairvoyant!). Neptune wraps you in a cozy blanket of intuition, making heartfelt connections feel like a warm hug from the universe. Cue the happy tears!
Hard Aspects: Enter the emotional whirlpool! Neptune can stir up your feelings like a cosmic blender, leading to mood swings and a general sense of overwhelm. You might find yourself daydreaming your way through real-life emotions, and good luck figuring out what you actually feel!
Mercury
Soft Aspects: With Neptune’s gentle nudge, your thoughts become a beautiful symphony! Communication flows like honey, and you’re bursting with creative ideas. It’s a fantastic time for writing, brainstorming, or chatting about all things magical and dreamy! You could be a music lover, a great singer or a romantic poet.
Hard Aspects: But when Neptune goes rogue, it’s like trying to read a recipe in a funhouse—everything’s upside down! Your thoughts get scattered, and communication feels like a game of telephone gone wrong. Get ready for misunderstandings and the occasional “Wait, what did you just say?” This aspect looks very similar to a Piscean or Sagittarian Mercury, a common link to ADHD.
Venus
Soft Aspects: Love is in the air! Neptune turns your romantic life into a whimsical fairy tale, where everything feels enchanting. Your heart opens wide, and connections deepen, making even the smallest moments feel like a scene from a rom-com.
Hard Aspects: But hold on! Neptune might have you wearing those rose-colored glasses a bit too tightly. You might find yourself idealizing partners or being swept away by fantasies, only to crash back to reality when things don’t match your dreamy expectations. Ouch!
Mars
Soft Aspects: With Neptune in your corner, your drive becomes a creative spark! You’re ready to take action with a burst of inspiration, making you feel like a superhero on a mission. Time to tackle those goals with flair and imagination!
Hard Aspects: When Neptune throws in a twist, it’s like trying to run through quicksand. Your motivation might wane, leaving you confused about where to focus your energy. It’s a cosmic case of “I had a plan… what was it again?”
To wrap it up after such long post, living with Neptune’s influence means you’ve got a backstage pass to the land of dreams, creativity, and big feelings. But it also means you might find yourself getting tangled up in illusions, setting sky-high standards that real life simply can’t meet. So when Neptune touches your personal planets, just remember: it's okay to dream big, but keep a little reality check in your back pocket. You can chase those rainbows, but don’t forget to pack an umbrella for when they dissolve into rain.
Thanks so much for reading, love you! 🥰
Written by @soberpluto
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Hi, I have a question about seasons in the story and seasons of publishing. What I mean is that as far as I understand it would be “better” or more fitting I guess to release specific seasonal books in their season, for instance probably it would be not really right to publish a Christmas book in the summer and it would be more relevant to publish a book about Halloween closer to real Halloween time. Maybe I’m wrong with this but my question is if I have a fantasy story where the events happen over the course of summer and there is quite a bit of focus on summer nature, sceneries and etc would it be okay to self publish it in winter around December or should I wait for spring at the very least to make it make more sense?
Publishing During Story's Relevant Season
If a particular season plays a big role in your story/story's vibe, it can definitely be a good strategy to publish it during or just ahead of that season. However, this is by no means a requirement, and you can also sometimes take advantage of opposing seasons. For example, publishing a summer story in the winter... you can promo that by speaking to the fact that a lot of people are missing/dreaming about summer when they're tired of the winter cold. "If you enjoy fantasy adventures and find yourself missing warm summer breezes and star-filled summer nights..." or "This epic fantasy with a summer setting is the perfect read if you need a break from the bleak midwinter..."
You can also skip the seasonal emphasis entirely if you want, even if your story does have a seasonal vibe.
Ultimately, your book isn't going to be wildly more successful because you publish in one season over another. Your success will have infinitely more to do with its broad appeal, finding your audience, and how you promote it. So, for that reason, the best season for publication is the season you're ready to publish in. :)
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pwurrz · 2 years
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me explaining to literally anyone who will listen why kuya and yakumo not getting an event together was actually a good thing in hindsight because now it means quincy and yakumo can have an event together:
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Batman #650 (2006)
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Batman and Red Hood (2011-) #20
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Red Hood and the Outlaws (2016-) #25
“Bruce works out so he can carry Jason around like a baby” he is dragging him by the broken edge of the boy’s helmet, knuckles digging into his eyes. He is definitely strong enough to carry him but that’s not the point. He thinks Jason deserves this.
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Task Force Z #6 (2022)
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Catwoman (2018-) #57
Bruce and his habit of flattening his son onto the ground and standing on top of him like a lion does to its prey, while saying degrading things.
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Batman (2016-) #138
And would you look at that. He finally lowered himself to face Jason. After rendering him completely powerless.
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sheltoner · 1 month
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congrats to jannik, a little sad for frances, but i can be happy with this outcome
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rawliverandgoronspice · 5 months
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trying to assign instruments to gerudo characters for thralls' soundtrack. Nabooru is getting the sitar so far, as I think she's good at representing the gerudo side that's closer to the Wild Era in terms of long-term vision for gerudo prosperity, not to mention that it works great for a more laid-back character; though Iftaah could also get that aspect, even though her perspective is a little bit more desperate and a little less actually strategizing about diplomacy and commerce in the way that Nabooru's is... not sure I have nailed down the perfect instrument for her yet though? Maybe a duduk, for its plaintive quality and capacity for softness? But I don't know, I feel like there could be something better out there. Saeruk and flamenco guitar seem pretty great fit for the versatility of the instrument, both harsh and defiant, playful at times, but also extremely sad if needs be, and the fact that she represents more the "older" kind of gerudo works well with more hispanic/romany inspirations. And then there's Aveil, who I feel represent the best the connection of the gerudos to their land, and I'd love an instrument that really represents that. Still looking for that one.
There's a bunch of fun things for Ganondorf that can be done, but I think he'll get... bigger instruments, in general. And church organs are quite versatile too it turns out. :) I like the marimba from his first phase boss battle, but it's a little too... I don't know, I feel like it lacks the roundness and depth and imposing quality that we could get with other picks. But Ganondorf so far has about *eight billion* leitmotifs going on with what I have selected for him (him and Ganon's, as they are... not exactly separate entities in the story, but sort of, it's kind of weird), so it might be more a case of actual melody rather than instruments, or maybe on top of instruments that swap in and out depending on what we want to invoke...
Sorry, rambling, but I would really love to compensate for my lack of voice actors with a pretty meaningful stab at the soundtrack. I feel like I kind of have to honestly. ;;
#thoughts#thralls of power#animatic project#gerudos#nabooru#ganondorf#I need to upgrade my music software and stop using Logic 5.5 that came out in 2002 ;;#and gives me between 30mn to 2h before subjecting me to a coinflip about whether or not it corrups my savefile#never really had the material for a proper upgrade but I really want to make one and that seems the perfect opportunity for that#also yeah nabooru has kind of a big role in thralls!#she wasn't there at all in descant or just in passing#but she becomes kind of an important player in this version of the events#her antagonism with ganondorf is. definitively there let's say.#it's funny I actually kind of used descant as a brainstorming ground for thralls in many ways#as every single character arc is just whatever I began to sketch out in unhallowed vespers#but like More and More Deliberate and more focused too#there's a bunch of threads I completely cut out#so it won't be a perfect 1:1#which is for the best I think I just hadn't spent enough time with some characters to truly get them#I'm much more confident now#Iftaah is perhaps the one that needs the most work at the moment? she has a Bad Fucking Time so I need to make sure#it goes to places that not only serve other people's arcs but also her own --and that she ends the story in a meaningful place narratively#Serielle also needs work but more in the sense that's there's so much happening in her brain. and it's pretty difficult to convey.#but I fully know what's going on in there at least even if it's wildly convoluted#anyway!! rambling rambling sorry sorry#I am frustrated that I can't actually work on it so here I am rambling#ok back to work now
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firstofficerkittycat · 4 months
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ok im not responding to that person anymore but the white reveal holy shit what. you should in fact stop making walls of text whiteknighting for black ppl who have varied opinions on that episode and talking like ur an authority on this. i dont even know what to say lmao i will continue to shut up about it because genuinely what is any of this its ridiculous we should not be the centering our opinions in a conversation about racism. that apology was for who i thought was a black person having no patience for me posting my thoughts on a thingt i do not experience not for a white person absolutely dominating the conversation across the dw tag over a topic that you should not be centering yourself in????
#i will always listen to black people who call me out whether or not theyre just yelling at me or wte#because racism is an exhausting thing to experience#i have very little time for a white person writing me an essay about how i need to shut up when theyre actively centering#their white opinion on the racism episode as fact and drowning out black ppls commentary including ppl who are saying the same thing#like u are in fact still taking over black fans when u make a billion posts repeating things they've already said instead of just rbing#theyre now vagueing me like ''the fact people assume im black for speaking out on racism really shows fandom is dominated by white ppl''#MOTHERFUCKER I THOUGHT U WERE BLACK BECAUSE UR SPEAKING AS AN AUTHORITY ON THIS WHICH U SHOULD NOT BE DOING#u have multiple long posts talking abt white ppl as if ur not one and probably regurgitating points from black creators without credit#they really tagged that post ''what happened to silence is violence'' im dead#also in their second rb they were saying im uncritical of the way rtd writes black characters and like fucking how lol#even just based on that post how did u get there. i was literally @ing the people who are acting like he's antiracist for this#but tbh they were acting like the word antiracist is synonymous with unproblematic and perfect and that makes a lot of sense lol#very telling from someone who frames themself as an antiracist activist while pulling this shit#fucking wild#we do not get to decide whether that episode was done well or not. as white people. regardless of our first thoughts on it#like we should both just rb black peoples thoughts on it and stfu#they were so eager to tell me noo you absolutely SHOULD post ur white opinions on whether or not racism was handled well in this episode#and definitely dont wait to see black fans thoughts on it before saying anything because silence is violence. hm#okay
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sovonight · 1 year
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xan's candle event is so funny to me. you have to choose 1 specific option for the candles to even be significant to your charname, and yet the next day xan presents you with a lit candle no matter what you said, and if you're like um is that supposed to represent something, he's like yes but also no, and i will not explain, and also i'm still going to use this as a symbol to make a promise to you, even though i literally refuse to elaborate
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tennessoui · 2 years
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Hey kit I’m hoping it’s okay to ask is there any updates on vow breaker?
no worries at all!! Vowbreaker is chugging along I actually have 1.5k that I’m pretty proud of for this chapter that will be about ~6-7k
I’ve had a hard time finishing these lately or focusing on any one project which means I have 6 Google docs open and about 1-2k on multiple projects (lslm, t&t, an actual 5k fic for sugar daddy anakin au, a wing fic, Vowbreaker, an actual fic for cheating au, and actual fic for smithsonian au, etc)
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lisbonsteresa · 2 years
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knees weak, arms are heavy
#listen it's too late for me to be very articulate about it (and i'm only on s3 now; the rest of the show is kind of hazily blending) but#one of the things i find most interesting about the red john plot...or jane's pursuit of red john maybe#is how ...individualized? it is#obviously the characters have different opinions on it - is his mission right; is it justified; would it help him; would it condemn him#and you as a viewer can side with one opinion more than others (and the opinions change as the show goes on -it's dynamic#which is another interesting but separate train of thought)#but imo/iirc the show itself - the narrative i guess - never makes any outright statement/judgement/comes to any definitive conclusion#on the matter#idk it's just even this - obviously everything's part of the larger narrative but at the same time#his asking does illustrate at least some level of doubt that he didn't seem to have in the last two seasons#is it because of lisbon; and the team; because of kristina; because of the strain it's putting on himself#(probably not the last one; he is demonstrably cavalier when it comes to his own wellbeing)#and he just happens to have the perfect man to express those doubts to right in front of him#(and that man just happens to be noah bennet alskdfja)#had winter said no what would his reaction have been? would his doubts have gotten worse - led to him taking a step towards giving it up?#would he have doubled down? we have no way of knowing because for this man; for this character it was worth it#and that helps shore up jane's belief that it would still be worth it to him too#idk i'm not making sense but it just feels like there's a level of grey area/audience interpretation to this story#rather than a hard line being drawn (by the story itself) on whether the actions taken in it are good or bad and i appreciate that#character-focused vs a morality tale maybe but that's more of an extreme phrasing#anyway ignore me i'm -#tm
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nomaishuttle · 11 months
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anyways. sorry. got cranky
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protect-namine · 1 year
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if we're bringing back "diluc is batman" (referencing the description from neuvillette's marketing drip where diluc's mask is his alter ego whereas neuvillette's role as chief justice is just him and not a role he puts on) then can I petition genshin to give diluc a robin
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hopefulqueer · 1 year
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i rly like that i'm at a place with my art where i can literally see the improvement from one piece to the next
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foxcassius · 8 days
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okay i wrote a really good confession scene for my polyam hm fic. now let me just write the beginning middle and buildup for it. surely nothing will happen that will render my two and a half thousand words of high intensity character establishment unuseable.
#its fine. its so fine. i am so used to this happening.#i just like writing the confession scenes okay#and this was good! i established a more 3d and human character for nami (<-i gave her an incurable and acute anxiety disorder)#but tbh i think it tracks for her character. she's gloomy and philosophical and i can see her spinning in circles in her head like that#she's also already established to be like. a tsundere basically. she shies away from any expression of positive feelings#let alone romantic ones#gustafa will definitely be slightly changed from how i wrote him in my first fic. he'll be less self-assured which i think makes sense#for the situation he is in (having a situationship with 2 other people where theyre dancing around each other)#i think none of them will be sure what any of the others feels until the confession BUT#the farmer gets an inkling that they're all in for the money earlier than the other two#nami thinks gustafa and farmer are perfect for each other and hates that she wants them both so bad bc theyre a great couple alone#and gustafa can tell something is going on between farmer and nami (isnt 100% sure if its romantic or just Weird) and is trying to be a#friend to both of them while resisting his urge to make moves on both at once (he would think of that as scumbag behavior of himself)#and perplexing in his mind about what to do about liking both of them and not knowing WHERE to make his overtures#i think i have it figured out. i think i've got it#if their characterizations change a bit before the confession i can always rewrite it/change parts of it#but so far i have the confession as being nami's 9 heart event and i am considering saving gustafa's 8 heart event for after it#so i can use it as more of a date as i did in my first gustafa fic#by jove. i think i've figured it out.#t
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barbatos-sama · 2 months
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i don't know why people are surprised by scott cawthon admitting he didn't actually have any plans for what would be in the lock box. i've known this guy is just making up shit as he goes since the second game, i am utterly amazed that this is such a genuine shock to some people
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