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#WELL THINGS HAVE CERTAINLY BEEN BETTER FOR OUR HEROES!!!
aww daryl is so sad and greasy and soggy ;A; carol fixing his hair and giving him a forehead smooch like she's his mummy 🥺🥺🥺
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vivwritesfics · 9 months
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Mini Me
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With how shitty my life is rn, I keep having these depressive episodes. Turns out my depressive episodes breed fluff
Max's six year old son has just started karting and his wife has to take him. Boy oh boy, does he miss his wife and son.
"So, Max, can we expect to see your little one around the paddock today?"
Ever since the day he was born, Fabian Verstappen had been seen with his parents around the Formula One paddock. He was always smiling and waving at those he knew and those he didn't. Fabian Verstappen was the happiest boy around.
Max was very proud of his boy. He showed him off to whoever he could. When he was young, he sat on Max's hip while he completed interviews and such.
Fabian was Max's number one supporter (Tied only by Max's wife and Fabians mother, Y/N. She followed him around the world three times before agreeing to marry him. It was a year long engagement, and in that time Y/N found out she was pregnant. They managed to keep it hidden until after their wedding, although Y/N did have to get a dress that better fit her bump).
There was a year between Fabian being born and him being able to attend his first race. Christian was happy to get him fitted out in Red bull Racing merchandise. He got his own little hat and a too large Red bull shirt with a thirty three on it (Max had lost that years championship. Red bull had won the constructors but Max had just missed out on the WDC. Red bull had worked out the kinks in the car and Max was bound to win this year, just as he had the previous year).
This year was the first year Fabian and Y/N weren't there to cheer Max on. And interviewers certainly picked up on it.
"Uh, no," Max answered when they asked about Fabian. "He and my wife are at a karting event right now."
The interviewer gave him a nod. "Following in your footsteps perhaps?"
Letting out a laugh, Max nodded his head. "We can only hope," he said.
"Do you think we'll be seeing him in a Red bull Racing suit in the next fifteen years?"
Again, Max nodded his head. "If he's anything like his dad, he'll be in a Red bull Racing suit before that," he said and adjusted the cap on his head.
Max left the interview and checked his phone. As much as he wanted Fabian and Y/N at his race, he knew how important karting was to his son.
Max has always been Fabian's hero. His first full sentence was 'I wanna be like daddy'. Max and Y/N did whatever they could to make Fabian's dream come true.
The one thing Fabian wanted but he couldn't have was to have his daddy at his karting races, watching him. There had been a lot of screaming and crying while Max and Y/N tried to explain to him why his father couldn't be there.
But Fabian had made friends at his Karting matches. He and the other kids he had raced against got along like peas in a pod. Fabian's first ever play date was with his karting friends. Some of them had been sat with their eyes and mouths wide open while Max brought them juice. They couldn't believe he, their hero and favourite driver, was Fabian's dad.
Max pulled out his phone and checked his messages. Nothing from his wife yet, but Fabian's race should have been done, he realised when he checked the time.
Dialling her number, Max pressed his phone to his ear.
It took Y/N a moment to pick up. "Hey handsome," she said in a chipper voice when she picked up the phone. Her voice was distant and slightly distorted, and Max realised she was in the car.
"Hello, Liefje. How's our little racer?" He asked her.
"Daddy! Daddy!" Came Fabian's voice. "I won! I won! I won!" He shouted.
Well, that answered Max's question. His cheeks were warm as he smiled, listening to his son. "Ik ben zo trots op je, mijn jongen. Ik kan niet wachten om jullie twee weer te zien!" (I'm so proud of you, my boy. I can't wait to see you too again!)
There was a moment before Fabian responded. He was fluent in English and French, but he was only good at Dutch. It still took him some time before he could work out what Max was saying and respond.
"Papa, ik... heb een... trofee." (Daddy, I got a trophy.)
There was a certain sense of joy that filled Max whenever Fabian answered him in Dutch. "Fabi, make sure mommy sends me a picture of your trophy," he said.
"I will do, Maxy," Y/N responded for the little boy. "Fabi, what do we say to papa?"
Again, Fabian was quiet for a moment. "Oh!" He suddenly cried from the back of the car. "Good luck with your race, Papa! Maybe you can win like me!"
The Verstappens laughed.
"Good luck, Max. Call me after you've won."
"I will, Liefje. I love you."
"I love you too."
Max hung up the phone after that. He his qualifying to get ready for. As he got ready, though, he spent the entire time thinking about his wife and son. He checked his phone constantly, waiting for Y/N to send over the picture of Fabian and his trophy.
No father had ever been prouder of his little boy than Max. Fabian was his everything and he couldn't wait to see him in the big leagues. Who knows, maybe Max would still be racing alongside him. Maybe he'd have Horner's job, team principle of Red bull Racing while his son raced as their number one driver.
No matter what, Max would always be Fabian's number one supporter.
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phantom-dc · 1 year
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A deal with the Ghost King
Part2 AO3
Danny was getting impatient.
He had been annoyed at being summoned, then exited when he found himself in the Justice League Watchtower. He was in space! But then the guy in the raincoat begun offering a piece of his soul in exchange for destroying a meteorite, and he had become annoyed instead. He doesn't want a soul! Doesn't this guy get he'd be Danny's slave for eternity? So taking a page off Clockwork's book, he said something cryptic and ominous so no one else tried to bribe him with souls. They had turned white and raincoat guy asked if they could be excused for a moment before pulling the other heroes into a different room. Wich, first off: Rude. Second: Danny couldn't leave the summonning circle unless he made a deal or if he was send back. At first he had been curious what they would offer him now, settling into a more humanoid form instead of the eldritch nightmare being summoned always forced him into. That had been a while ago though, and now he was getting impatient. They better come back soon so he can go deal with the problem. He'll do it for a Pop-tart at this point, as long as he can go break that overgrown space-rock!
Jason was pissed. Batman had ordered everyone to come to the Watchtower immediatly. Jason wasn't even allowed to wear his helmet (he scared the younger Leaguers), having to settle for a domino mask instead. Good thing he had 2, because Nightwing had even brought Alfred! Jason wanted anwsers, why did B rush them here? He hadn't even greeted or explained anything to them, just had Plastic-man bring them to a room to wait. But Jason was done waiting, so he stormed to the main briefing room. He expected B and his Justice club. Instead he found a glowing, floating hero. The floor glowed a bit beneath him, his skin tinted green and his hair floated as if underwater, a crown surrounded by its own northen light. He was beautifull. Anger forgotten, he made his way over, deciding to make some small talk. 'Hello there! Are you a new hero? I've never seen you before?'
Danny was startled. He'd been focussing on the door the heroes left through, trying to will them back. He hadn't even noticed the Liminal behind him until he spoke! He turned around, and was again caught of guard. Even with the Domino covering his eyes,he could tell this guy was really handsome! A mountain of chiseled muscles and a white streak of hair that gave him something mysterious. Oh crap, he was staring. What did he say again? 'Hello! I'm Phantom. It's nice to meet you!' The Liminal introduced himself as J. 'Anyone ever tell you you're drop-dead gorgeous?' Danny laughed. Hot and death puns? Yep, he's going for it. The Leaguers aren't back yet anyway.
Jason was kicking himself. Really? That's the best he could come up with? Thank god Phantom had seemed to like it. 'Well, it certainly wouldn't get a rise out of me if they did!' he said. 'So what are you doing here? I didn't see you at the meeting?' Jason shrugged. 'No idea actually. B called for all hands on deck, so here I am. What are you here for?' Phantom sighed. 'They got me here to deal with some stupid rock, but then ditched me here for an impromptu meeting. I just want to go take care of it, but I can't just leave.' Phantom looked annoyed. Jason asked if Phantom wanted a tour of the Watchtower, surely Flash could get him when they needed him? Phantom looked dejected. He couldn't leave without being dismissed. Jason decided to make a move. 'Ok, how about this: you deal with that rock, and afterwards, we can meet up in Gotham and I'll give you a tour there! Deal?' Phantom looked up, an inhumanly while smile on his face.
'Deal!'
After that Phantom had left, saying the boyscouts had their chance. 'I look forward to our date!' He said and then dissapeared. Jason was exited! He went back to the others, who hadn't noticed he'd left. No matter, he had a date to plan!
Contantine was freaking out. The meteorite had proven too much for the Justice League. Most of their heavy hitters had been off-planet or out off commision. The damn thing was even made of kryptonite! He had no choice but to summon the only being that he knew of that could deal with it and could be bribed. He had offered the mighty Ghost King a piece of his soul, but been rejected! Batman had offered his own soul instead, but again this offer wasn't enough. The Ghost King explained there were billions of mortals about to become his subjects. Why trade that for 1 measily soul? He needed a better offer if they wanted his help. Panicked, Constantine had pulled the other League members into a different room, not wanting them to make a deal by accident. They were all making desperate suggestions. What could be worth more than every soul on Earth? They had made a list of magical and historical artifacts from every members background. It was a long shot, but the meteorite was getting too close. As they went back to the Ghost King they were praying it would be enough.
The King was gone. Suddenly in the distance the meteorite exploded. Someone had made a deal with the Ghost King, and no one knew who. What had they offered?
What could possible be worth more to the High King of the Infinite Realms than every living soul on Earth?
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leviaana · 1 year
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Miraculous Movie Review (Rating: 4/10)
I watched the preview of the Awakening movie yesterday and really want to share my honest review. There’s going to be several things that I’ll criticize. So be warned!
Also: Spoilers!! DON’T read it if you haven’t seen it yet. This is my personal opinion. So please stay excited for it!! 🐞🪄
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First of all, my overall rating for this movie is a 4/10. Just yesterday I was ready to give it a 5/10, but quickly noticed it had much more things that upset me than I initially realized when walking out of the movie.
I know it’s a pretty low rating coming from such a huge fan like myself, but that’s probably the main issue. I’m a big fan of the show, so changes in lore and characterization will be more apparent to me. For better or for worse, in this case, mostly for worse.
On the first glimpse the movie seems like a retelling - a soft reboot, if you will - of show’s origin story. The plot goes much further than that however, as it also provides a conclusion in form of a final battle with Hawkmoth as well as an identity reveal of our two main heroes.
In order to ensure the entire premise fits into a 90 minute movie, a lot of things regarding the shows lore were simplified. I say that as a neutral statement seeing as a simplification can be either a good thing or a bad thing, depending on your opinion of the source material.
Personally, it left me rather unsatisfied but I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s start with the good things!
One of the things I really enjoyed was the animation! Seeing miraculous with such a high production value certainly felt like a cool summer breeze. While I do prefer the original character models style wise, it was still just nice to see them in this cutesie pretty style! The locals were gagging!
Ladybug and Cat Noir were especially gorgeous!
I also really enjoyed the singing. I watched the German dub and it was very neat!
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Sad to say that was pretty much how long my enjoyment lasted. Everything apart from what I’ve mentioned above was… interestingly handled… to say the least. Let me elaborate.
1. The dialogue was awful!
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Truly not the biggest fan of musicals but I couldn’t wait for them to start singing just in order for them to STOP TALKING 😩!
The dialogue was so awkward and stiff. All of the characters were interacting very weirdly with each other. At times it would sound like several lines of dialogue were cut from the final version, as the characters barely acknowledged each other verbally. They didn’t talk with each other, but past each other.
Moreover, every second phrase was a very cheesy one liner. “Believe in yourself.”, “Listen to your heart.”, “stronger together”. Super overdone.
The movie wanted to be inspirational so bad, it forgot to be genuine.
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Some examples that I recall from memory:
“Mom, I don’t have any friends and I’m scared to go I school.”
“Just believe in yourself, Marinette.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Or.
“Tikki, I’m in love with Adrien.”
“Listen to your heart, Marinette.”
“My heart……Adrien.”
2. How did they manage to make Ladynoir banter … weird and uncomfortable to watch?
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Don’t let these pretty movie shots fool you because Movie!ladynoir spent their time in a constant roasting competition that they were somehow both losing!
Not once did they manage to establish that flirty and charming atmosphere around them. No, they were draaaagging each other through filth. And maybe it could have been somewhat fun, god knows I love couples that can roast each other. If only the dialogue was better and didn’t reek of “we have no idea how young people interact”.
In a desperate attempt to make jokes, they let Chat call LB a sidekick or watermelon in every. single. scene. To say that it got annoying when the jokes didn’t land the first 10 times they were made is an understatement. No Milady, no Bugginette, no little wink or a kiss on the hand. Only watermelon and sidekick. Them talking in weird cut off phrases. With careless whisper playing in the background.
Don’t get me wrong, there are some beautiful moments. But their beauty can only ever do so much when met with weird pacing, dialogue and characterization. I’ll talk about that last part in a minute.
3. Everything was so on-the-nose.
The characters would constantly say how they feel and what they think aloud. Jeremy didn’t trust us with even an ounce of media literacy. Classic case of always telling, never showing. Not to mention the constant inspirational quoting in a desperate attempt to convey some deep message. Is this a movie script or my moms facebook page? I guess we‘ll never know.
4. Characterization: Marinette
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Having Marinette be somewhat scatterbrained but overall still respected by her peers is not inspirational enough! Make her your average teenage outcast and a total loser. Dad, you’re embarrassing me in front of the cool kids!
If you enjoy that kind of characterization that’s okay! Personally, I thought it was very cliche. It just.. didn’t do anything for her as a character. Having her start off at a much „lower” point in life, with almost no support system, only makes her coming of age journey to eventually become a self accepting confident heroine take longer. Seeing as the movie is only 90 minutes, the moment we see her “shine” is when it’s all almost over.
5. Ladybug …?
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Did I mention Ladybug doesn’t use her lucky charm? Not. once. No crazy plans to show that she’s smart and creative. Just a pretty girl swinging around.
6. Adrien
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I have a bit more to criticize about the characterization of Movie!Adrien.
The longer I think about it, the more it becomes apparent that they really didn’t know how to write Adrien. His personality appears inconsistent, almost like they were trying to fit him in too many roles at once. He is either extremely closed off and mysterious (even towards his friends), a comic relief character, bathing in self pity or just outright cocky. Those hoping to see his politeness and selflessness will be disappointed. This character only is ever shown to be self centered. A perfect example is how he *didn’t do anything* to be called worthy of the Black Cat Miraculous. He was just one of the „chosen ones“. When the Adrien from the series sacrificed his own freedom to help Master Fu.
Another example is how this Adrien doesn’t really see anything in Marinette. He called her strange in their first interaction and never really lost a single thought on her throughout the rest of the series. No common praises, no support, just awkwardness and not the wholesome kind. In fact, I would argue Marinette and Adrien aren’t even friends in the movie, the only interaction to suggest otherwise was slammed as a 5 second scene in a 2 minute montage.
Even if you were to suggest their bond was formed off screen. We don’t really see it ever take root. He even turned down her gift and invitation to go to the ball with her. Yes, you guessed correctly. It was because he was busy bathing in self pity over being rejected by Ladybug. Yikes.
To sum it up, this Adrien really doesn’t care about anyone but himself. Ever. They massacred my boy.
7. Chat Noir
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His charming smugness as Chat Noir crossed the fine line that turned to arrogance.
Considering how Adrien was characterized, that comes as no surprise.
As mentioned in my criticism towards the dialogue and the Ladynoir dynamic, this Cat is often seen discrediting LB with unfunny jokes. The moment you see him actually appreciate Ladybug, open up to her and Woo her, it’s all overshadowed by his entitlement to her affection.
Some may argue that we see traces of such attitude in the show as well. However, in a series, Chat Noir has many redeeming qualities as well as time to grow, change and move past these flaws. And boy, move past these flaws he did. In the movie, it’s all you get. Take it or leave it.
In one scene, he even lets her think he was hurt by an Akuma in order to catch her worrying about him. It was just a short scene and most people would look past it, but I think it’s these small details that really show how these movie characters tick in comparison to the series.
8. Akumas/Hawkmoth
Just a small detail that kind of ended up taking away the enjoyment of all action scenes is how the Akumas in the movie do not have a motive. There’s just some random people that you don’t care about before their akumatization and that you won’t care about after.
Hawkmoth doesn’t make a deal with them, ask for ladybug and chat noirs miraculous in exchange for his powers, none of that.
He just makes them evil and they do evil things for shits and giggles. The movies premise doesn’t even suggest he needs the miraculous. He just needs to get close enough to Ladybug and Chat Noir to steal Tikki and Plagg.
9. The Ending
I just wanted to dip into that ending real quick. In the movie, Gabriel is redeemed when he finds out about Chat Noir being Adrien. He apologizes to him and they make up. The scene surely will make people emotional, but from my perspective it was all rather predictable.
Whether or not Gabe was worthy of a redemption in the movie is a topic to discuss on its own. Personally, I was okay with it.
What I found more interesting however was…
10. The reveal
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This is the moment most people have been waiting and yearning for. And I may sound a bit smug when I say that the movie served a good purpose to show us that a fast reveal would have never ever been satisfying!
It was super underwhelming because - of course it was!
Marinette and Adrien barely had a connection! For all we know they could have been total strangers and their reaction to each other’s identity wouldn’t have been any different than what we saw in the movie.
We never saw Marichat or Ladrien interact either. So that certainly lead to a less explored dynamics. Cue unsatisfying reveal.
They really tried to make it this big emotional final moment, but really? We just saw Ladybug and Chat Noir lean in for a kiss without their masks. Like in a new fit. Nothing really groundbreaking came out of it.
Any fake reveal in the show was better than that and I mean it with every fiber of my being.
And don’t even get me started on how Adrien only ever noticed Marinette when she revealed to be Ladybug. It’s just not it.
Final thoughts.
There’s sooo many more things that I could elaborate on but I think for now I’ve said enough to support my rather poor rating of the movie.
In my opinion, the movie relies too much on people enjoying the source material while trying to be its own thing. It risks leaving everyone unsatisfied.
Those who watch the movie as a stand-alone are met with weird dialogue as well as plot, characters and dynamics that aren’t at all fleshed out.
Meanwhile those who watch the movie because they like the show will be inevitably comparing the movie to its far superior source material.
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abalidoth · 2 years
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With all the attention on the film of Goncharov recently, I wanted to talk about a particular rabbit hole of mine from a few years ago: the obscure, little-known licensed Goncharov game for the Atari 2600.
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Released in August of 1979 and developed by Sinneslöschen (a small German company that would later become better known for other titles), Goncharov (1979) is a fascinating case study in adaptation.
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Many early video game adaptations of this era have little to nothing to do with their source material. On the surface, Goncharov is the same: a simplistic beat-em-up where our hero, armed with a tommy gun (apparently only able to use it in melee range) kills a series of waves of faceless, suited mooks. Nothing to do with the morally complex, thoughtful film.
However, there was clearly a film lover among the programmers at Sinneslöschen.
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The first thing is the focus on the film's consistent clock motif. Every level has both a prominent red clock in the background art, as well as a time indicator in the corner, indicating the progress of one particularly violent night in the lives of these characters. The clock's prominence is eerie and out of place, drawing attention to itself as a strangely off-scale element of the skyline. It gives a true sense of the inexorable closing of the night that gives the film its poignancy -- clumsy, but necessarily so.
The second interesting aspect is the choice of protagonists. Plural.
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Levels alternate between Goncharov and Katya. Mechanically they are identical, but the scenes they progress through roughly match the plot and progression of the film. (The screengrab above is, of course, from the boat scene.)
Also of note is what Goncharov (1979) has to say about the ending of Goncharov (1973). Specifically, with regards to Katya's fate. Katya's ultimate ending is vague in the film, subject to a large degree of speculation on the part of watchers. In the game, though, despite her increasingly bloodied white dress, she emerges unquestionably triumphant even as her husband lies defeated. (That she rides off into the sunset with Sofia isn't explicitly shown, but you'd better believe that's my personal read.)
I'm not really sure what Sinneslöschen were trying to say with this. Certainly this overtly girlbossish message has been blamed for the game's dismal commercial failure and general obscurity; but it's difficult to see what the purpose of that adaptational decision was. (Other than just throwing more fuel on the already raging fire that is the speculation about the end of Goncharov 73.)
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yourpalmalika · 9 months
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The merman scene is a literal masterpiece (I'm not joking)
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I think it is what many scenes in this season are not: a perfect mixture of romance, comedy, and drama. It's silly but has a touching meaning. It makes you cry while laughing your ass off. It's simple but genuine.
The romance
How romantic it was! These are the blackbonnet we know and love. It was a confirmation of how even if Ed tries to supress it, his love for Stede is what keeps him alive, how he both lets Bonnet save himself and becomes better on his own.
Bringing someone back to life with your love is a trope that hits the jackpot in this show. It's corny, it's unbeliavable, and it's perfect. You ever love someone so much their voice pulls you out from the purgatory?
The shot of their clasped hands seals this scene, long, close. They hold each other, as they always did. You know, I'm kind of reminded of Ed's poem in 1x10:
Holding on...
By a thread...
Can't let go...
Except this time, Stede is back, and it's no longer a thread. It's a strong, confident grasp, an «I'm never gonna let you go again» hold.
Man, the only thing that was missing is a true love's kiss!
There might have been one, off-screen, when Ed reaches to kiss merman Stede...
The comedy
It was hillarious. Me and my friend were literally losing our minds while also trying to stay focused because of how overwhelming this scene was, how full of emotion.
And still, it's not funny in a way that undermines or defeats the scene's meaning; it's funny in a way that enhances it. Ed sees Stede as a merman hero with a giant trident — it's ridicilous! AND it's tooth-rotingly sweet.
The symbolism
As I said — simple, but geniune. Ed drowns, weight of his self-hatred pulling him deeper and deeper in the form of a stone. Then, he hears Stede's voice, how he begs for him to come back, how he loves him — and the rope that ties Ed to the rock loosens and sinks to the bottom of the ocean. His hatred dissapears because of his and Stede's mutual love.
The light that emits from Stede is both literal and metaphorical. He is in the light — in real life, hovered over Ed, whose eyes are closed. But he also IS the light — the good in Ed's life. The kindness, the generosity and the love Ed both receives and gives when he's with him.
Whoever wrote this scene must have been possesed by the ancestors of queer romance, because it was fantastic. Best scene in the season so far. With scenes like «you wear fine things well», it's not so easy to come up with moments that would be on par — but this one certainly keeps the bar high!
I love this scene so much, and I hope to see more like it in future episodes.
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edenmemes · 10 months
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red dead redemption 1 starters
❝ it’s wanting that gets so many folks in trouble. ❞ ❝ it ain’t no secret i didn’t get these scars falling over in church. ❞ ❝ if you win power, remember why you wanted it. ❞ ❝ you do a man wrong, he’ll shoot you for it. you do a man right…well, he still may shoot you for it. ❞ ❝ trust me. there’s things you’re better off not knowing. ❞ ❝ you remind me a lot of myself. how i used to be. stubborn and angry. ❞ ❝ i hope you will give me some warning if you get the sudden urge to kill me. ❞ ❝ my side wasn’t chosen. my side was given. ❞ ❝ a little sore, but apart from a couple extra scars, it will be as nothing happened. ❞ ❝ i don’t think you’re a bad person. a little stupid perhaps, but not rotten. ❞ ❝ i certainly don’t mind you asking, if you don’t mind me not telling. ❞ ❝ you are being deliberately obscure as a substitute for having a personality. ❞ ❝ so do tell me, have you needlessly risked your life since we last spoke? ❞ ❝ i came into this world fighting. and i’ll go out of it fighting. ❞ ❝ i hear you speak and suddenly i'm reminded of how the people i respected most in my life had a problem with authority. ❞ ❝ you're looking much better. considering you were almost buzzard food a couple days ago. ❞ ❝ power is like a drink. the more you have, the more you want. ❞ ❝ people don’t forget. nothing gets forgiven. ❞ ❝ sometimes in the service of what is right, you got to do terrible things. ❞ ❝ you have quite a story. i really am a little jealous. ❞ ❝ old friends make the worst enemies. ❞ ❝ i had everything, and gave it up in the pursuit of nothing. ❞ ❝ hah. you were always bad at lying. ❞ ❝ i’m not going to stand by and watch good people suffer. ❞ ❝ some trees flourish, others die. some cattle grow strong, others are taken by wolves. some men are born rich enough and dumb enough to enjoy their lives. ain't nothing fair. you know that. ❞ ❝ if you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop digging. ❞ ❝ now, if you don't mind, i'd hate to spoil such a beautiful afternoon on such beautiful land with any further unpleasantries. ❞ ❝ i, too, have a family, friend. and so that we may see our families again i suggest we part ways amicably. ❞ ❝ sometimes i tell myself that everything happens for a reason. ❞ ❝ i see the good in everybody. it’s a flaw of mine. ❞ ❝ well, try not to get yourself killed. ❞ ❝ see if you can keep your gun holstered for once. ❞ ❝ i don’t pay much attention to rumors. ❞ ❝ i swear, if it was down to me, i’d never have gone anywhere. ❞ ❝ lock all the doors. whatever happens, don’t come outside. you hear me? whatever happens. ❞ ❝ what would you care? i’m just a nuisance to you anyway. ❞ ❝ i’ve been hearing some things about you. ❞ ❝ i would rather be dead than a cynic like you. ❞ ❝ damn, a little gratitude wouldn’t kill you. ❞ ❝ trust me, i ain’t no hero. ❞ ❝ as it turns out, it's you or me. the way i see it, might as well be you. ❞ ❝ you live in a dream world. it ain’t like they tell it in books. ❞ ❝ i’m asking you to do what i say, before you get yourself killed. ❞ ❝ those who sit on the fence make a choice…in their own way. ❞ ❝ i’d do anything for you, you know that. ❞ ❝ better watch your mouth, my friend. i've cut out a man's tongue for less. ❞ ❝ there's nothing worse than a nobody thinking he's a somebody. ❞ ❝ you got it all wrong. i’ve always loved you, even now. ❞ ❝ what the hell were you thinking, going off on your own? ❞ ❝ first impressions are hard to erase. ❞ ❝ it’s a long story. too long to tell without a drink in my hand. ❞ ❝ i’m not angry. i’m disappointed. ❞ ❝ you know me. i’ll be late to my own funeral. ❞ ❝ that tone of voice ain’t so becoming on you. makes you seem all pent up and angry. ❞ ❝ you think i don’t know who you are. ❞ ❝ why don’t i get a warm and tender embrace? ❞ ❝ what do you want me to say? yippee? ❞ ❝ there’s always a choice. you’re just too blind to see. ❞ ❝ you’re not ready for that yet. one step at a time. ❞ ❝ every time you go off, i worry you’re not coming back. ❞ ❝ it didn’t have to be this way. ❞ ❝ come on now. try to look on the bright side. ❞
❝ after all i taught you…i’m ashamed. ❞ ❝ it’s easy to make promises you can never keep. ❞ ❝ we all make mistakes. i never claimed to be a saint. ❞ ❝ how does it feel to kill hundreds of men in cold blood? ❞ ❝ it ain’t the first time i had a gun to my head. ❞ ❝ you’re not perfect, and i’m sure not. but you’re better than they are. ❞ ❝ you alright? you’re not hurt, are you? ❞ ❝ this really couldn’t have gone more horribly wrong. ❞ ❝ you’re just like me. you can’t change who you are. ❞ ❝ my whole life, all i ever did was fight. ❞ ❝ you’re in no position to make demands. ❞ ❝ the bright side? there ain’t no bright side. ❞ ❝ my heart’s beating like a drum. ❞ ❝ are you sure you’re alright? i mean, i know all that business must have been hard on you. ❞ ❝ you’ll make me blush with all these kind words. ❞ ❝ i never took you for the jealous type. ❞ ❝ come now, you’re stupid, but you’re not that stupid. ❞ ❝ you’re weak. you always were. you never had the stomach for this. ❞ ❝ seems real quiet, don’t you think? ❞ ❝ you were always a hard and nasty man. ❞ ❝ see, i have nothing but your best intentions at heart. ❞ ❝ don’t talk about things you don’t understand. ❞ ❝ i guess there’s only one room for one hero in this family. ❞ ❝ for a wise man, you are a really stupid man. ❞ ❝ what would have happened if i hadn’t come along? ❞ ❝ you must have mistaken me for someone else, friend. ❞ ❝ you ain’t very talkative, are you? ❞ ❝ we cannot be too careful. the world is very dangerous. ❞ ❝ no, i’m not okay. do i look like i’m okay? ❞ ❝ you are so tense all the time. come, let’s have some fun! ❞ ❝ i will stay and fight. i am ready to die if necessary. ❞ ❝ i know i can’t change the past but i’m sure gonna do something about the future. ❞ ❝ i’ve given you no reason not to trust me. ❞ ❝ choose your tone rightly. remember who you’re talking to. ❞ ❝ there are guards everywhere. if they see you, they will kill you. ❞ ❝ it was nothing. i’m not a kid any more.❞ ❝ a lonely, forsaken place. some people say it’s haunted. ❞ ❝ i’m not sure your idea of paradise and mine are the same. ❞ ❝ maybe if you were more cordial to folks, they’d be better inclined to help you. ❞ ❝ i’ve been in far worse situations. ❞ ❝ you have the exterior of a violent man, but the soul of an angel. ❞ ❝ you’re not gonna pass out on me, are you? ❞ ❝ you’re no better. how many men have you killed? ❞ ❝ stay alert. something doesn’t feel right. ❞
❝ i'm going to hand you over to them and watch them tear you limb from limb…i'm just kidding. ❞ ❝ you love to talk badly of other people because it makes you feel better about yourself. ❞ ❝ it’s been a pleasure spending time with you. ❞ ❝ that’s a lot of sacrifice. i just hope it’s worth it. ❞ ❝ i’m not cut out for this. no, not cut out for this at all. ❞ ❝ i don’t need you to show me. ❞ ❝ men are born, and then they're formed. at least, that’s how i see it. ❞ ❝ a little flattery…now we’re finally getting somewhere. ❞ ❝ i thought you were supposed to be fearless. ❞ ❝ you are a man who has lost his spirit. ❞ ❝ if you were less secretive, people might be more inclined to trust you. ❞ ❝ me mean me no harm? this is funny. what harm could you do to me, exactly? ❞ ❝ come on, after everything we’ve been through, i think we can trust each other, don’t you? ❞ ❝ i can’t rightly believe it. just like in the books. ❞ ❝ i didn’t ask for your help back there. i owe you nothing. ❞ ❝ be careful. what’s stopping me from killing you? ❞ ❝ one day, i promise you, you’re gonna regret this. ❞ ❝ you know i’ll do whatever i can, but i have problems of my own. ❞ ❝ what would you know about leadership? ❞ ❝ you make a choice by not making a choice, you know. ❞ ❝ hold your excuses until you figure out which one to use. ❞ ❝ i'll give you a bad case of "someone just shot me in the head" if you don't hurry up. ❞ ❝ being honest though, this tastes bad enough to kill a man. ❞ ❝ do i look like i need saving? ❞ ❝ sarcasm should be beneath a man such as you. ❞ ❝ are you always this stupid or are you making an extra effort today? ❞ ❝ i don’t like to kill a man on his knees, even if he deserves it. ❞ ❝ don't forget you need me more than i need you. ❞ ❝ i’ll hunt you to hell and back. ❞ ❝ you’d best not be lying to me. ❞ ❝ let's get going. before the weather gets any worse. that sky don't look good.. ❞ ❝ thank you for telling me all that back there. it must have been hard for you. ❞ ❝ i know we ain't exactly old pals, but…have i ever done you wrong? ❞ ❝ your nobility's almost as affecting as your naivety. ❞ ❝ you are a romantic who wants to be a cynic. ❞ ❝ i apologize if i seem to be prying. ❞ ❝ strange place for a decent person to visit, if you don't mind me saying. ❞ ❝ well, you must admit…it's an unusual start to a friendship. ❞ ❝ i can’t really say i understand you. ❞ ❝ every man has a right to change, a chance of forgiveness. ❞ ❝ hello, old friend. it’s been a long time. ❞ ❝ i hope you understand now why i've been playing my cards somewhat close to my chest. ❞ ❝ nobody made my path but me. ❞ ❝ it’ll be a piece of cake. trust me. ❞ ❝ oh, don’t be so deliberately enigmatic. ❞ ❝ my word, what a difficult life you’ve lived. ❞ ❝ you have a strange sense of humor. ❞ ❝ stay and fight me, you coward. ❞ ❝ i ain't planning on staying very long. ❞
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ahsoka-in-a-hood · 11 months
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If we are willing to take the parts of previous movies in the trilogy that remain unsaid in following ones into our interpretation of the one we are watching, then the tusken massacre is relevant in RotS. Shmi is not mentioned by name, Anakin's actions are not spoken, but his dreams of Padme's death form a perfect echo of his dreams of Shmi. We can come up with sensible in-universe reasons for the callback, like how maybe Palpatine knew and induced the dreams to trigger Anakin, or perhaps the Force at work, but maybe it's just a fairytale, a parable, a rhyme.
Maybe it's a fun echo because it induces a sense of dread in both the audience and in Anakin. We've seen this before, we know where it leads. But while he's thinking about Padme, we're thinking about what he will do. Well, I am.
Anakin begins RotS as a liar. First, we watch him lie to Obi Wan about why he killed Dooku. The lie comes easily enough, Obi Wan believes it even more easily. Anakin Skywalker, exemplary jedi knight, hero of the hour, follower of the code. He feels uneasy about it though, he says so to Padme. When Obi Wan give his farewell and tells him how proud he is, and how Anakin has grown to be a greater jedi than he, Anakin cannot look him in the eye. It works on it's own, just about, but back to back with AotC it works better.
Of course, a lot of his lies are about Padme. (A lot more sympathetic, but also a far more absurd reason to clam up in a way; we know that the people who love him will still love him if chooses marriage over the Order.) But as he goes to Yoda and begins to tell him about his dreams, he stops himself. He does not tell the whole story. He cannot. We know why, we just watched aotc. Those dreams led to that death which led to that fall. We've seen it all before. He is so afraid.
I don't think it's controversial to say that Anakin's isolation and unwillingness to go to anyone except Palpatine for counsel contributed to his crisis in RotS. Palpatine definitely took advantage of that, and Anakin eschewed several onscreen attempts to get him to just. open up.
His actions in aotc were a foreshadowing of what was to come, but they also began a pattern of behavior of repression and denial and deceit. If he had come forward- if he had faced his actions which genuinely did cause him some horror at the time- he would have faced more immediate consequences. He would have disappointed and horrified Obi Wan (and the other jedi), he would not have been knighted, and he would not have been given positions of authority, at the least. But considering how much damage he did and how much he lost when he committed to the dark side, I would say the consequences of his deceit were far greater in the end.
Something that comes to mind is both the ending of the OT- with the darkside being something he could choose to just… stop doing, and also Yoda saying 'forever will it dominate your destiny'. I can see how they might sound contradictory, but to me they are in harmony- it is a choice, you can walk away, but there are always consequences. If Anakin had been held to account, there would have been immediate consequences, consequences he desperately wanted to avoid, but that wouldn't have been the end of the world for him either, not really. They wouldn't have actually stopped him from ever being okay again. (let's be real, even if Obi Wan were disappointed, he'd still have loved him, and Padme certainly did. ) Anakin didn't commit to the darkside when first he fell, he wanted to go on as he was- he wanted to keep the things he had- and so he could continue to act as a jedi for several years because he chose to act like one for the most part, but he did not fully commit to being a jedi either, and his dishonesty, and his lack of remorse, eventually had consequences for him. And for everyone else.
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speedforce-zoomies · 3 months
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“Can I ask you a question?”
Janet turned to face her semi-regular visitor, an alternative version of her son, and boy, wasn’t that a sentence?
“Different from the ones I’ve been asking, I mean?”
“Oh course, birdie.”
It had been rather awkward for the both of them the first time Janet had instinctively used a pet name that she used for her own Tim, one that his Mother had also used for him.
He had blinked away tears so quickly that if she hadn’t known all versions of her son so dearly she would have thought she had imagined it.
From that point on she made sure to only call him Tim or Birdie, a pet based off his hero identity, (and it still took the breath out of her lungs to think about any version of her baby fighting criminals with nothing but a belt full of tools and a metal staff. Her fear for him was not at all canceled out by her pride). The name deemed safe since her own Tim was a civilian.
Though, even “Tim” got confusing sometimes when trying to differentiate between her son and the son of dead version of herself.
She had asked if it would perhaps be better to call him Jackson and he had frowned at the suggestion, suggesting Alvin or Carl as alternatives instead with a sudden, sly smirk and a snicker when he saw her expression.
He smiled at her now, a soft, gentle thing, that spoke of comfort but his eyes were sad.
“Do you think…” he paused, “Do you think, if things were reversed between our worlds and you had passed, sorry, this is, uh, um a pretty heavy question...”
Tim trailed off, eyes glued to the bare white wall across from him and Janet walked over and sat beside him, not touching, just silently offering support.
“It’s okay, it’s obviously burdening you, let me carry some of the weight. What’s on your mind, Birdie?”
“If it were you that had die-passed, and your Tim had access to trans-dimensional travel, would it… would it make you sad or hurt your feelings if your Tim was to visit my mom?”
Janet paused, thinking it over.
Tim didn’t look at her, allowing her to consider her words carefully.
“A little bit, I think. Not hurt, but sad, because of course my preference would be to be a part of his life. However, even if it would make me a little sad, it would mean the world to me that another Janet was able to open up her arms to my son, that he had found a way to ease his pain, even if just a little bit.”
He smiled at her and it was watery.
“You know, when I come to visit, I take the information you give me and I go though my Mama’s stuff, almost like I’m gathering clues here and putting the pieces together there.”
He paused, trying and failing to not fidget.
“I had no idea, about the Emily Dickinson poem, until you told me and then I went home and she had used that poem in a couple of her poems and social media posts.”
He leaned in to her space.
“It’s nice, getting to learn about her, even now that she’s gone… I appreciate you, you giving me the chance to do so.”
Janet gently bumped shoulders with him, “Of course, Birdie.”
“It also kind of feels weird,” he confessed, “to investigate my own mom like this.”
Janet hummed, and took a chance, “Well, you are two anthropologists’ son, investigating the dead is kind of in your blood.”
Tim choked out a laugh, “Yeah,” he huffed out, voice low and rough but still amused, “guess you’re right.”
He leaned back against the sofa, “She’d love that, I think, being an anthropological revelation.”
“I’d be flattered, certainly.”
Tim snickered at that.
“Do you think your Tim is gonna be an anthologist. Like you and his dad?”
Janet hummed, “Maybe. He enjoys coming out to digs on holidays and summer vacations. But he also enjoys his photography and he keeps making jokes, that I’m not entirely sure are actually jokes about becoming a professional skateboarder.”
Tim snorted in amusement, “Well, I’m rooting for him if he goes for it.”
Janet grinned. “I will too, if that’s his passion in life, though I will expect him to have a backup plan, of course.”
“Of course.” Tim agreed.
“Anything but vigilante!” She shook his shoulder gently, “I already have one of those to worry about!”
He laughed, and he didn’t sound like her own Tim when he laughed.
He sounded like her, or well, she thought, another version of me.
——
I wrote a lot of words just to say I’m not over Batman (2016) #134 & I never will be ^.^
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joels6string · 2 years
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dear santa,
i mean, dear kate* 🫣
can i wish a very spicy joel miller story? as if the ones you wrote weren’t spicy and perfect enough… BUT! maybe something like enemies to lovers?
i actually have no idea what i’m asking. you’re the mastermind here. anything joel related, i want it on my desk 😮‍💨🫶
Merry Angst-mas for this one. I swear the other prompts are very lighthearted and happy. Like, Joel ice skating, and modern AU snowstorm hero... don't give up on me 😂
Damned If I Do
Joel Miller x f!reader
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Summary: You hate him, he hates you. It's as simple as that, right?
Rating: E
Word Count: 3.1k
Content: Enemies to lovers. The two main food groups: Smut and Sad. Creator has chosen to not give content warnings, read at your own risk.
“You give a shit about me, Miller?” you asked, trying to taunt but only sounding as desperate as he did. Despite his words over the months you’d known him, his actions had certainly always told a different story, one he was trying to keep from pouring free right now. “Tryin’ not to.” “Why’s that?” “Lovin’ me’s a curse.”
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The mood was somber, even more so than usual. It was December, the frigid winter air whipping through the Boston quarantine zone, the dilapidated building you were currently holed up in doing little to keep you from its stinging bite.
“You gonna be a god damn liability again this time?” The voice made your skin crawl.
“Merry Christmas to you too,” you grumbled under your breath, it was no use arguing with him.
Tess had gone ahead to negotiate the terms of your impending deal, leaving you and Joel to wait for the upcoming weapons haul pickup that had been looming over your head for days. You’d chosen Christmas Eve in hopes that the military personnel surrounding every wall of the zone would be scarce, on holiday leave, doing something other than their damn worthless jobs for once. Not that there was shit to celebrate anyway.
“I asked you a question,” he barked in response to your muttering, his face severe when you dared a peek at it.
“I don’t know, Miller,” you sneered, “Just let them take me out this time and put us both out of our fucking misery, huh?”
“I’d never hear the end of it.”
Tess would give him an earful. Sometimes you thought the threat of Tess’ wrath was the only thing keeping you alive, this was doing enough to prove that to be true. When the woman in question returned to you and him on opposite sides of the room facing your respective walls, she sternly reminded you both that lives were on the line. Now wasn’t the time for bickering and your heads belonged in the game, not your asses. You both begrudgingly agreed.
When it came down to it, it was your turn to put a bullet between the eyes of someone that had Joel by the throat long enough to make his vision blacken at the fringe, the ice beneath his cheek brutal and sharp as he fell to the ground with a huff.
“You’re welcome,” you snapped, stepping over his gasping body without so much as a glance down, his furious snarl still audible over the winds.
It had been a setup, of course, hunters almost picking the three of you off when you got to the abandoned drop zone.
“Thought you negotiated this shit, Tess!?” Joel barked, throwing his bloodied baseball bat onto the ground with a heavy thud, “We come out here just for a quick shoot out and frostbite or you got somethin’ else up those sleeves of yours?”
“I thought it was sound!” she snapped back, guilt heavy in her voice as she accepted her error in ways Joel could never.
“Yeah, Merry fuckin’ Christmas–”
“Oh, shut the fuck up, Joel,” you interjected, exasperated, cold, and perturbed beyond a reasonable limit, “You wouldn’t have done any fucking better–”
“I would have made damn sure I wasn’t bringin’ either of you to a god damn ambush! That’s what I woulda done!”
“Well, you were a great help tonight–”
Your words were cut short by a hand clamping over your mouth, the frozen sharp tip of a knife knicking into the soft skin of your throat. The ice scattered throughout the cracked pavement made it impossible to get your footing as you were dragged backward, your heart pounding as you watched Joel’s eyes widen in panic, his revolver drawn and aimed, his gaze begging for a clear shot. Looks like he’d get his Christmas wish after all.
There was no use in fighting it, if anything having the warmth of a body pressed behind you would have you one less step from miserable as you took your last breaths. You hoped he made it quick, you weren’t in the damn mood for games or semantics. Joel wouldn’t trade a dirty sock for your life, but that look in his eyes before you were pulled from his sight had certainly been unexpected. 
He and Tess had probably run off, who knew who else was coming, this man couldn’t be alone. They were smart to do so. Ammo was running low, stamina even lower, and even at their best, they couldn’t take out another squadron of hunters. You’d made it 15 years in this God-forsaken world, it was a lot more than most could boast. Somehow dying at the filthy hands of this human felt worse than getting infected, at least those monsters didn’t know any better.
Even through the thick canvas of your jacket, you felt the burn of the pavement scraping your elbows, your hiss of discomfort pulling a sneering smile.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, and you curled your lip as your eyes rolled, Joel's voice echoing in your head, ‘Don’t gimme that sass.”
Had it been an hour? Maybe two? You couldn’t tell. The darkness was unforgiving and unwavering, the cold setting into your bones as you shivered knees to your chest in an attempt to preserve your body heat. You’d be dead by morning from hypothermia alone. Gunshots rang out, screams and cries, yelps, glass shattering. What the fuck? What kind of hell zone was this? Crawling to peer around the old metal shipping container you’d been stashed in, your curious gaze was met with the sight of Joel Miller bashing at your captor’s head with a brick, blood splattered across his face, eyes alight with rage. 
“Joel…” you gasped through numbed lips, you’d never been happier to see that sour face in your life, his expression softening as the man in his grasp fell to the ground in a gory heap.
“There you are,” you sighed, “Let’s go. Can you walk?”
His heavy coat he’d slipped over your shoulders swallowed you whole as you led you through the still hunter-infested maze. Ducking behind crates and in abandoned buildings, he had the exact route mapped to have you free and clear within minutes, the walls of Boston greeting you just as the feeling had returned to the tips of your toes. He was silent on the route back, his eyes flicking over his shoulder to ensure you were safely behind him periodically, the sphere emanating from your flashlight highlighting the silver hairs streaking through the black on the back of his head. 
“Stop,” he instructed, tanks driving by as a new congregation of troops gathered right outside the final building that led to safety, “Shit. This might be as far as we get til dawn.”
“Great,” you scoffed.
“Let’s go up, keep eyes on ‘em.”
With enemies so close, a fire was out of the question, your chattering teeth and tensed muscles hard to ignore as you stared at the hulking form staring out the shattered window.
“Joel…” you finally sounded, his head ticking towards you the only acknowledgment you received, “Why’d you come back?”
“If anyone’s gonna kill ya, it’s gonna be me,” he teased, a puff of breath glowing in the moonlight leaking in around him, “and now we’re even.”
“We’re even…”
Of course it was about evening the score. You’d saved his life, he’d saved yours, though you were almost positive you were still deep in his debt. It wasn’t often Joel needed a helping hand. He was as formidable as he was cold, that stony expression rarely breaking. Except it had, tonight. You hadn’t forgotten.
“Joel…” you called again, his body turning now to face you pathetically shivering in the corner. You hoped he didn’t make you ask, it was already mortifying insinuating it.
“I got you,” he cooed, leaving his post and gesturing for you to lean forward as he approached, nestling in behind you, legs on either side caging you in, his arms wrapping around your middle as you nestled back against him.
Even in nothing but a worn-out flannel, he was warm, your sigh of relief drawing a muted chuckle from his chest as you melted in his hold. Bygones could be bygones, the chill you swore would be permanent dissipating with each deep breath you were now able to take. It had been years since you’d been this close to another human in a non-threatening manner, the first time someone cradled you against them, allowing you a moment of solace and safety. You’d never expected to find that safety here, in these arms.
“You can sleep,” he permitted, your body immediately accepting the offer and drifting off, your head lolling beneath his chin as his thick beard caught on your hair.
Gray light filled the dingy room as your eyes fluttered open. You were sweating now, your neck straining beneath a heavy weight settled on your head, heavy breaths echoing in your ear. Joel. He was asleep behind you, his cheek resting on you from where you’d spent your night pressed into him, his arms still tightly wrapped around you even passed out cold. At the first twitch of your head, he was rousing, grunting as he became alert once again.
Shifting enough to peer up at him, you watched his hazel eyes wake in the eerie glow of dawn before they locked with yours, the stone chipped away just enough to reveal a glimmer of vulnerability.
“Why you lookin’ at me like that?” he asked softly, keeping the proximity you’d woken in instead of pulling away like you’d expected him to.
All you could muster was a shrug, his plush lips too close for you to concentrate.
“I can’t do this…” he whimpered, his tone stabbing you right in the chest, “Stop making me give a shit about you.”
“You give a shit about me, Miller?” you asked, trying to taunt but only sounding as desperate as he did. Despite his words over the months you’d known him, his actions had certainly always told a different story, one he was trying to keep from pouring free right now.
“Tryin’ not to.”
“Why’s that?”
“Lovin’ me’s a curse.”
That didn’t matter. You’d danced with the devil already, what was one more tango? His hair was softer than you thought it would be when your fingers weaved into the strands on the back of his head, pulling his lips to yours in a daring risk of affection. You weren’t sure what shocked you more, your bravery or the fact that he greedily accepted your kiss, one large palm splaying across your stomach that was currently churning with something you hadn’t felt in over a decade.
It was all teeth and pressure, tongues wrestling as you tugged him closer by the hold on his hair, his body turning to face yours and press you down onto the cold wood of the floor, one hand cupping the back of your head to save it from the splintering surface. Your hands started on his belt first, your mouths still devouring the other as months of pent-up tension and hidden desires spilled over, your lungs selfishly inhaling his carnal groan as you gripped his cock as it sprang free and dragged your fist along his impressive length. Control was forgotten as you leaned up and captured his bottom lip again, his mind unable to focus on both your mouth and your hand as you continued to tug, his reciprocating kiss always slightly too late as his hips began to rock into your hold.  
“Turn,” he commanded, his voice giving no room for objection, “S’too cold for any other way.”
As much as you wanted to argue, he was right. You obeyed, presenting yourself to him on all fours before your jeans were pulled just past the swell of your ass, his hands squeezing at your searing globes voraciously. You wished you could see his face. Slick fingers swiped over your pulsing hole, swirling spit around to ease his plunge into your waiting depths. You were quivering with anticipation, a stark contrast from last night as every inch of you burned now even in the subzero December temperatures. 
Even if you wanted to stop it, you wouldn’t have been able to contain the lewd cry that erupted as you stretched around him. The feeling of his shaft slowly slipping inside of you made you realize just how soaked you were, his path unhindered on its way into the deepest parts of your body. You knew he could feel it, too, his hands shaking where they held you in place around your waist, breaths audibly ragged as he bottomed out.
“Shush now, darlin’,” he soothed, once again stroking over the plushness of your hips, “I can’t kill a man in this state.”
If that was intended to calm you down, he’d failed. Your cunt clenched around him so tightly he chuckled gruffly, pulling out and snapping his hips back against your ass just hard enough to have you jerking forward and keening, your teeth sinking into the sleeve of his jacket still loosely hanging on your much smaller frame. It didn’t take long for his pace to regulate, hard and fast just as you expected him to be, your arousal leaking down your inner thighs as he pinpointed the velvety patch decorating your inner wall, his precision just as accurate as he was with a rifle.
The limitations were agonizing. You wanted more. You wanted to marvel at the way his lips were parted and the hazel of his eyes swallowed by blackened lust, grip his chest and his neck, swallow his muted whines, and whisper how fucking good he felt into the soft, scarred skin of his neck. Pressure was building immeasurably quick, his rough fingers now rubbing circles over your clit leaving you nothing but a boneless heap in his hands. He was holding you upright now, your body limp for him to use as he saw fit, but the only thing he chased was your release.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he urged, “just let it go for me.”
Who were you to deny him anything? You clamped down around him as the elastic band in your belly finally snapped, shockwaves electrifying every nerve from the tips of your toes to the top of your skull, your eyes rolling back in your head as you chanted his name like a prayer. He followed not long after, pulling out with a roar and emptying onto an old rag he’d grabbed from the floor, his chest heaving as he moaned in relief. You wanted to scramble over to him, kiss his cheek, temple, eye, forehead, anything you could reach as he finished in the absence of your warmth, but you were too spent, too delirious, too thoroughly fucked to move quickly enough.
“Joel…” you whimpered, searching for him in the still-dim space, your hand reaching up and waiting for his fingers to intertwine with, “Joel…”
“I’m right here,” he answered as he gave you what you were searching for, his lips pressing to the back of your palm as he pulled you back into his chest, “We need to go. Tess’ll be worried.”
When you returned, you didn’t need to tell Tess what had transpired, she could tell. But even with her deduced knowledge, she kept her lips sealed. Maybe she knew Joel would tuck and run the moment he was caught, or that he’d recognize what a liability this was in a world such as this. A liability he’d come to terms with faster than he would have liked.
Two months later as February began to slide into March, a hoard of infected was an unexpected addition to your supply run. It was just you and him, it was meant to be simple, and it was, or so he thought.
“Let’s go,” he panted, “More’ll come. We can go another day without.”
“Joel…” you mewled, tears welling in your eyes as he continued to scout the area, “Joel!”
“What? Sweetheart, we gotta go.”
“You gotta go.”
“What the hell are you talk–”
Part of you wished you’d never told him. That you’d run off into the woods and let the last image you had of him be with his revolver in one hand and a machete in the other, doing what he did best with his brute strength and unmatched finesse. Because now, now you’d die with the snapshot of his horror-stricken face staring down at your outstretched palm, frozen, in denial, and forlorn.
“The hell is that?” he asked as if you’d have another explanation.
“You know what it is,” you replied, swallowing your own sorrow, he needed you to be strong now. 
“No. No. No, that’s…that’s somethin’ else.”
“Stop–”
“Tell me it’s somethin’ else.”
“Joel, please!”
The way he muttered Jesus fucking Christ under his breath as he turned was the final swing on your shattering resolve, a hand dragging down his face as the other dropped to his hip, his blade plummeting to the pavement with a shrill clang as he let it fall from his grip. You stood still as a statue, watching him come to terms with those teeth marks pierced into the hand that had cupped his jaw so tenderly this morning as he’d kissed you awake. 
“I warned you,” he finally said, turning to reveal his soaked cheeks and reddening eyes, “I told you I was a curse.”
“That really what you want to talk about right now?” you pressed, your chest burning as you fought the sobs clawing to get free. 
“What do you want me to do?”
Your final wish. It wasn’t hard to decipher what he meant, one of you had to do it. 
“I can do it,” you assured, puffing your chest out in a masquerade of bravery and strength, he could see right through it, his brow furrowing as he shook his head.
“No you can’t,” he resigned after clearing his throat and repressing the rage and grief already surging through him, pulling his pistol from the back of his waistband, “Lay down, I can’t watch you fall.”
“Joel, I can–”
“Just…do it.”
The grass was cool against your cheek, its soft caresses weren’t the worst things to feel with your final breaths. Your tears decorated the blades like the dew drops not due for another few months, your heart thudding between your chest and the ground, Joel’s footsteps somehow in tune with every slam of it against your sternum. 
Where you expected the muzzle of a pistol, you felt his large palm stroking gently over the back of your head, his lips pressing to your hair one last time and lingering as the wound on your hand pulsed like a warning beacon. You knew you still had time, but the urgency had begun to eat you alive with every dragging second.
“Get on with it, Miller,” you pushed, refusing to give him your eyes, he’d hesitate. You knew that. “Waiting won’t make it any easier.”
“I’m sorry,” he breathed, he was crying again, “I’m sorry…” and that was the last thing you heard before the click of a trigger.
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Joel Miller Masterlist
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lendeah · 6 months
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Hey I saw ur recent thing about astarion/durge w scars and I raise to Astarion/Tav with a shit ton of scars they actually do have stories for (either really dumb or really cool or kinda traumatic) and astarry just lovingly traces them and asks about them
YES!!! I love the idea.
Here you go, I hope you enjoy it and thanks for asking! 🤍🫶🏻
Astarion loved tracing the little scars dotting your body. Even in moments of exhaustion, as you both lay on the bedroll after a arduous day of battle, he would gently trace the intricate lines of your skin with lazy fascination.
"Now, I bet this one has a story worth hearing," he drawls, caressing with his finger along the long scar on your arm.
You let out a small chuckle and decide to humor him. "This one here? That was from a sword fight. I was trying to protect my brother because he had been having an affair with a married woman, and it got pretty intense. I ended up taking a pretty bad hit, but luckily I lived through it."
The vampire cocks an eyebrow, a sly smirk playing on his lips. "So let me get this straight," he drawls, "you got this scar defending your brother's honor from a scorned lover? Sounds like your brother could have used some self-defense lessons."
You shrug "I guess, but he is my brother. I couldn't just let him struggle on his own. Besides, I'm the better fighter of the two of us." you say with a smirk.
A mischievous chuckle escapes his lips, "Always the hero, huh?" he lets out a resigned sigh, but his eyes glint playfully. "You know, your stubborn selflessness isn't the most attractive trait."
You raise an eyebrow. "Oh really? And what is my most attractive trait to you?"
Astarion chuckles, then brings his cold fingers to your forehead, gently brushing the skin there, "This scar above your eye? It's quite the attractive feature. Really adds to your whole intimidating aura," he purrs, "I must hear the tale behind it."
You roll your eyes, trying not to let his teasing get to you. "Ugh, that one gave me nightmares for weeks." You say with a grimace. "I was being chased by an angry tabern owner because I may or may not have stolen some of his ale. Anyway, he caught up to me and I fought him off as best as I could, but he still managed to get a knife to my face." You shudder at the memory and the thought of your mother's scolding afterwards.
Astarion chuckles, "Oh darling, you? Stealing? And ale, of all things? Positively scandalous. I find it hard to believe."
You give him a playful glare, "Oh please, I was young and reckless. Plus, the ale was really good."
He shakes his head in disbelief, but the fondness in his eyes is unmistakable. As he takes your hand in his, his soft fingers tracing over the familiar lines and curves, you feel a warmth spread through your chest. His thumb gently traces the jagged scar on your palm, "This one looks like a fish bone" He says with a smirk.
You roll your eyes "Yeah, well, I got that one in an attempt to save my friends when I was young." you say "We were out at sea enjoying the warm weather, when suddenly a massive creature emerged from the depths. It had razor-sharp teeth and writhing tentacles, and before we knew it, our boat was under attack. I reached out to help my friends and next thing I know, I'm tangled up in this thing's grasp. Thank the gods a wizard happened to witness our struggle and put down the beast. Lesson learned: never underestimate the power of the ocean's creatures."
He rolls his eyes back, "Of course the heroic, strong, selfless and pretty one would make something like that sound like a normal and not crazy thing to do." He looks back at your hand, "But no worries, darling, your hand is just fine. In fact, it's quite charming in its own rugged way." He says, taking your palm to his lips, making you shiver. Despite his teasing, there is a genuine admiration in his voice that warms your heart. His hand then moves up to cup your cheek. "You certainly have an interesting collection of scars."
You can't help but blush at his words, feeling a mix of happiness and vulnerability. No one has ever taken the time to truly listen to your stories before, let alone find them interesting. But with Astarion, it feels different, like he sees you for who you truly are, flaws and all.
"Back home, some people said I was a monster because of them" you say, gesturing to the marks on your body, "but I like them, I think they all have a story behind them worth telling."
Astarion raises an eyebrow, "People called you a monster? What foolishness."
You shrug, "It's just how things were back in my hometown. They were afraid of anything different or out of the ordinary."
A playful glint dances in his eyes and his sharp fangs glisten. "Oh, I'm sure I'm a real nightmare to them," he quips with a smirk.
You roll your eyes, "Well, it's not every day someone meets a charming vampire like yourself."
Astarion leans in closer, his warm breath tickling your skin. "You know, I never tire of hearing your stories. You always manage to surprise me."
You feel your cheeks flush at his words, but before you can respond, Astarion leans in and presses his lips against yours softly. It's sweet and gentle, but also filled with unspoken words and emotions, and you can't help but wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as you both lose yourselves in each other.
When you finally pull away, he rests his forehead against yours, breathless and smiling. "I could listen to your stories all day," he murmurs.
"Well, lucky for you I have plenty more where those came from." you reply with a teasing grin. "Ah, but what about your scars?"
Astarion's playful smirk returns as he starts tracing your skin again. "Oh, mine? They come from a life of bloodlust and and danger."
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antiwhores · 2 years
Text
Jealousy is Ugly - Bakugou x reader
Bakugou has a new partnership and the leader of the agency has a thing for him even though he’s been dating reader, his secretary, for several years. Will this secretary ever give up?!
⚠️ Not proof read, fighting, jealousy, blah blah blah
Hi bitches, I see your requests and just know I’m working on it but Im like hella depressed rn LOLL. Also I got lots of work and shit. Bare with me here. I am working on it.
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She makes you so fucking mad. The way she walks, the way she talks, the way she breaths, the way she flirts with your man. The way shes better at flirting with your man than you.
She was apart of another agency, almost 3 years older than you and Bakugou. Your agencies merged the heros for a promotion or reason on something you couldnt remember through your seething anger.
You were at first optimistic when she was chosen as a partner with you and Katsuki. As his assistant, you thought I’d be a good opportunity since shes supposidly very good at what she does. Too bad shes not good at taking a fucking hint.
Katsuki and you had been secretly dating for almost a year. You had liked each other long before but with the both of you being dense when it came to feelings, it took yall a while to figure it out.
Her shiny, bright hair falls into her palm as she gave your boyfriend puppydog eyes. Not a hair out of place on her head, fucking bitch.
She hummed methodically, rudely interrupted the meeting at hand. “Hmmm, you’re pretty impressive for someone so new. You have your own agency and your climbing the ranks so fast! I wasn’t good like that at your age at all.” Fucking cougar bitch, find some desperate guys your age to harrass.
Bakugou clicked his tongue at the comment, sending her a harsh glare. He ignored her though, he’s heard that compliment so many times but out of her mouth it sounded digusting.
She laughed, sickeningly sweet. Your eyes trailed her hand as it went up to caress his bicept. You wanted to tear every single one of those decorated, clean nails off her fingers. Bakugou quickly pushed her away, “Can you fuck off-“ You called your hands together, “Okay! Can we focus please?”
The evil, perfect bitch turns your way as if you were nothing but dirt to her. She looks you up and down slowly, mean girl attitude dripping off her like snake venom.
You return the look right back with a slight rise of your lip. It was a silent challenge, an invitation to take this outside if she wanted to. She giggled with such a condescending tone you almost gagged before sitting down in her chair once more with her arms crossed. Mhm, thats what I thought.
When you finally broke eye contact with her you were sucked into Bakugou’s eyes. He was staring at you with a questioning look. A ‘whats going on?’ translated easily through his eyes to you. You couldnt help yourseld from side eyeing him too. It probably wasn’t fair to be angry at him too but you couldn’t help but be mad. Maybe if he wasnt so used to getting hit on he’d actually be more firm instead of brushing them off.
He looked back at you with his eyebrows furrowed. ‘What?!?’ was an easy translation from his face.
You continued anyway, lightly tapping on your clipboard. “Well, the companies partnership has gained popularity online. It has also promoted more partnerships and brand beals within the community.”
The guy from the other agency, whom you forgot was here, revealed the line graph of benefits. He pushed up his glasses, “Yes, and whilst it brings in more money, it has lessoned crime in our selected area by 2%. Doesnt sound like a lot but for that much to go down in day in our city is certainly an achievement.”
You think the other guy told you to call him Yol. He was rather handsome and well spoken. You almost giggled, does everyone in their agency have to be pretty? This girl was crazy.
After he was done with his statistics and shit, it was your turn to go on about whats next for the program.
“As for the next step, we’ll temporarily paid heros in Mr. Dynamite’s agency and Ms. Mowqua’s agency. We’ll pair based on quirk compatibility, not on how well you know each other. Yet, we will except complaints and make changes if you do not feel comfortable with your partner in able to promote a safe enviornment.”
Everyone in the meeting nodded to themselves to take in the information. There were some heros but most of them were higher up staff. “Any questions?” You asked. A couple hands went up but they were all interrupted by the improper edicate of not waiting your goddamn turn.
Mowqua’s lips twisted into a seductive smirk. She hummed, “I have one!” You put on the most professional style you could muster as she spoke. “Can I be with Dynamite since we’re both the owners of the agencies?” Your boyfriend scoffed, “I don’t need a fucking partner and I don’t want one.” You wanted to tear your fucking hair out. He was your boyfriend and even you didn’t dick ride like this.
Your temporary partner, Yol, looked at you to discuss. “That would be ideal, the two owners of agencies working together as partners would bring in a lot of talk.” You shook your head at him lightly, “Wouldn’t work out.”
Just as you were about to elaborate Ms. Bitch clicked her tongue at you. “Why not?” She whined. “I’d love to work with such a strong and handsome hero!” You’re gonna be working with a bloody lip if you don’t shut the fuck- “Your quirks are not compatible enough to be put together. You have a quirk that installs moisture and water into the air, Mr. Dynamite perfers not to be around anyone that could slow down his heating process for explosions. Water could affect how he acts in the battle field.”
You had to hold back a satisfied smirk when she glared at you. “Well, I can put out any fires he causes with his explosions.” “Well then I’ll just assign you to be a firefighter instead if thats what you wanna do Ms. Mowqua. Would you like that?” The tone of just sarcasm and mockery that came out of you was surely unprofessional but entirely worth it.
Seeing Bakugou smirk at that made your heart jump. He rolled his eyes in a playful way. You send him a quick smile before turning around to answer the many questions around the room with Yol.
As you wrapped up your presentation you could feel two eyes burning into you with a glare that just seemed too ugly for her.
You ate lunch with Katsuki in the cafeteria on the 6th floor. It was almost always unoccupied so it where the both of you chilled out and discussed either work or just normal things at home.
You took a bite of the bento he had made you. “I had to stay up late to make those pairings. I paired you with some guy with a teleportation quirk.” He scoffed, “I don’t need a partner, ill be better without one.” You rolled your eyes, he was so stubborn. “Yeah, I believe you. But we need to to diverse our audience.”
You pull your bento away from him when he tries to grab half of it away with his chopsticks. “Ill give it to you for 1500 yen.” He gives you a fake offended look, “I made it! And its worth way more than that.”
“Heeeeeeeey!” The sickly sweet voice made you want to vomit all the food onto the floor. “Dynamite! What a coincidence. I was actually just looking for Ms. Y/n!-“ “L/n.” No way was she gonna call you by your first name like you were her friend. She bit back a glare, “Ah yes, sorry!”
She sat down across from you and Bakugou with her arm holding her chin. “I actually wanted to talk about my partner.” Oh my fucking god. “I just really want it to be Dynamite!” Bakugou and you share a side eye that almost makes you laugh.
“Everything’s already finalized-“ “I knoooow but can you just make an acception?” “No-“ “I wouldn’t wanna have to make a report about your behavier.”
You were taken aback for a moment, is she being forreal? “The fuck? Report her for what? Showing you that the world doesn’t revolve around you?” She must’ve thought he was joking cause she did her flirty laugh. Bakugou slid a hand on your thigh, you weren’t sure if it was to ground you or him.
“Make the complaint.” You challenged. “Do it.” A dramatic sigh rangs through her mouth. You steal some of Katsuki’s food while it happens. “Well, its your job not mine boo.” You laugh, “Okaaaay..?”
You decide to just ignore her at this point. Girls like her hate when someones unbothered by their actions. It seems that Katsuki had zoned out after the last thing he said too. You quietly offer Bakugou a napkin to which he uses to wipe off his face.
The tapping of her nails against the wood gets progressively louder the more the both of you brush her off.
“So are you free this weekend Dynamite?” “No.” “Well what’re you doing?” “Im gonna be with y/n.” “Youre gonna be working?” “Do you every shut the fuck up?”
“Hey l/n~!” “Mhm?” “Do you think I’d be a good marketing plan if me and Dynamite publicly dated?” “Nope, dont think so. The people like the mystery of it most the time.” “Ew, gross. I’d rather die.” “Youre so funny Bakugou!”
“Dont you think that lunch has too many carbs and fats l/n?” “Maybe.” “Are you not worried?” “Nope.” “But you’ll gain even more weight! You’ll look almost as hideous as that lunch.” “On god? Thats craaazy?” “I made that lunch.” “Oh.”
“Is that outfit really appropriate for work?” “Only for me.” “You should go shopping, you can’t go out in public like that while we’re working together.” “Shes not working with you, shes working with your assistant. She does not give a single shit about you. Shut the fuck up.” “Hehe you know I’m just kidding!”
“So do you have a boyfriend l/n.” “Yeah.” “Reeeaaally? Thats suprising, you aren’t lying to me are you?” “Nope.” “Cause you don’t seem like the type to be… loved.” “And you dont seem like the type to go farther than friends with benefits. We’re such twins.” “Heh.”
After the constant shut downs she starts to get frustrated. You can tell by the way her smooth forehead scrunches and her lips twist. You make it your mission to ignore her and it seems Bakugou’s already on the same page.
“So~” Mowqua twists her hair, “Dynamite, do-“ “Let me have some of that.” He points at your food as Mowqua’s mouth hangs open from the shock of being completely ignored.
“No. Its mine and you have your own.” “Well I want yours.” “No.” “I made it.” “Okay?-“ You flinched at the sound of fists meeting the table. You both looked up at her, you in astonishment and him in annoyance.
“What the hell?!” She yelled. Her perfect face was now scrunched up into an ugly look of jealousy. “Ive been trying to flirt with you for so long but you keep IGNORING me!” Her hair fell unkept as she stomped over to you. “And YOU!” She grabbed you by the collar and dragged you up to her face. “You are such a weird bitch for trying to get in the way of us! You’d never even have a fucking chance! You’re probably just a slut trying to sleep with him to get a raise!”
Before you could even think about it your palm connected to her face. The loud crack of your hand to her cheek bounced off the walls. And the next thing you knew her hair was balled up in your hand as she scratched at your abdomen.
Right as you landed another hit to her face you were pulled off of her by strong hands. Bakugou pulled you behind him with a hand securing your wrist to make sure you wouldn’t jump back out.
“You bitch!” She laughed, “You’re that jealous that you would fight me? Try not being so ugly and maybe you’ll have a chance with him!” You grabbed Bakugou’s hand and yanked it off of you. He grabbed you just as you were about to jump back at her.
“Im his girlfriend you dumbass bitch!” You yelled. She giggled through her gritted teeth, “Delusional whore!” Bakugou clicked his tongue, “Get the fuck out of my building. Our collab is done and if I see you here again I will put you behind fucking bars.” She winced at his harsh tone, “W-what?” “You fucking heard me! Take your shit and leave!”
She looked confused and betrayed for some unknown reason. “All for your secretary?!” “Thats my fucking girlfriend you dipshit! And if shes prettier than your ass will ever fucking be, you walking jump-scare!”
She stutters on her words for a little bit with a deep blush. You were finally satisfied when you took a good look at her. Her cheek was swollen red, the other flushed with embarrassment. Her perfect hair was now disheveled and matted from how you pulled her. Her usual calm expression was replaced by devastation. The only ugly one here was her.
Tears built up in her eyes as she turned around and ran out of the room.
After, Bakugou made you get checked out, even though you insisted that you were okay. Bakugou was true to his word and every single tie to her agency was cut. He reported her to the police and she was put on public news for attacking civilians.
You didn’t care too much about all this, you were too engrossed in Bakugou. You knew you had nothing to worry about anymore when it came to jealousy. He would always love you more than the next. And you the same.
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sseniita · 4 months
Note
hello op, I adore the villain you've created in the medical malpractice piece. their energy, their quips, their motivations, their dynamic with the hero. it's brilliant and perfect and please, please do write more about them. "firework" now has permanently changed my mind. maybe a continuation or maybe another one-shot if you're interested? it's great stuff
omg thank u sm,, i was proud of it! and ofc! i didn't have a story laid out for them but im always happy to revisit my works (maybe even w/ suggestions wink wink nudge nudge) !! sorry for the late update, i may be silent but trust, i am lurking
medical malpractice: healing boredom
The villain hadn't expected for this to go on for this long, but the little hero was resilient. If the villain didn't know any better, he'd think the hero was getting as much as a kick out of this as he was. His thoughts took over his mind, only snapping out of it when he heard the squeak from the hero and the flinch away from his healing hands.
"Ouch." Hero cradled their newly healed fingers to their chest.
"Oh, so sorry, firework. I was distracted." The hero returned their hand and the villain got to work on their thumb. Maybe snapping each of their fingers last night was overkill they thought- he shouldn't be giving himself this much work. Each heal was a meticulous and fragile process; it took more power than messing with a frontal lobe or blocking an artery. The villain cursed silently as he moved to the hero's other hand.
"I didn't know you could do that." The villain hummed in confusion, asking for elaboration with a raised eyebrow. "Hurt."
The hero was smarter than the villain thought, but apparently also vulnerable to charm. They dismissed things when disguised as a joke or flirtatious comment. Which explains why the villain now spent their Tuesday and Thursday afternoons playing footsies with the Hero under oval tables at meetings. He had had many close calls.
"Mmm. Everyone can hurt someone, Hero." He responded, focused on the hero's untrimmed cuticles.
"Yes, but I didn't think you could do it physically, with your powers."
"Well, healing involves pain, does it not?"
"You don't make it hurt."
"Ah, you've never been healed by someone as talented as me is all."
The hero chuckled. "So it's a skill thing?"
"Of course. A bad nurse would draw blood during a vaccination," He smiled up at the hero, healing the hero's pinky without breaking eye contact. "but you wouldn't feel a thing with a practiced nurse"
The hero's eyes widened at the realization their pinky had been healed. They wiggled each finger that only an hour earlier had turned purple and gone limp.
"Oh, you are good. Thank you, Nurse." They said, impressed, batting their eyelashes and smiling at their fully functioning fingers. The villain stared at the clock, ticking towards 9 PM and letting him know it had taken almost an hour to heal the hero's fingers. Never breaking fingers again, he thought.
"You're all set. Anything else you needed from me?" The hero leaned back against their arms on the examination table, leisurely displaying themselves in their ripped suit with half lidded eyes. They crossed their legs and tilted their head to the side.
What are you playing at, Firework?
"Well, I don't know. I hate that our little meetings run so short."
"They're very frequent." The villain shrugged.
The hero rubbed over the tissue on the examination table, making an infuriating crackling noise. They continued at it while speaking. "I have a kink in my neck."
"I'm a doctor, not a masseuse, Firework." The villain said, turning his back toward the hero, distracting himself from the noise of Hero's fidgeting by organizing paperwork and folders at his desk.
The hero had been at this game the past few visits. Coming up with excuses and making up stories about them and the villain that he knew didn't happen. Last week the hero had said the villain threw them against a brick wall and broke their arm. The villain had certainly not done that.
He was starting to get annoyed at how peculiar the hero actually was. They blabbered non-stop while he took x-rays, they became very sweaty very fast, and they had acquired a staring problem when he inspected them. He assumed the fighting had finally gotten to them. It always does.
"Well, could you maybe at least look at it?" The villain sighed, mourning the fun he had had the past months. Was the joy of fighting the hero really worth the effort of healing them over and over again?
He turned to the hero, a red and sweaty mess, and moved his hands up their neck, getting close to inspect under their hair, to know exactly where to press. If they were lucky, they'd hit pressure point and the hero would drop dead.
The hero wouldn't stay still, squirming under him and leaning their head back. Their hand reached for his elbow and a light tug had made an effort to make them face each other. Noses just inches away from each other. The villain was about to ask what was wrong before he noticed the hero's glance to his lips.
Oh.
The villain was pleasantly surprised at the hero's delusion about their relationship, but that was neither here nor there. He smiled softly at the hero, taking complete control and kissing them even softer on the lips. He liked being a few steps ahead of them. The villain knew the hero had no self control and so was prepared when they grabbed onto the lapel of his lab coat and pushed him on top of them, deepening the kiss as they went.
The hero was very different in this state. Grasping onto the villain to save their life, throwing the stethoscope around his neck to the floor. Hero was in bliss, and the villain decided to keep going along. After the villain's coat was on the floor but before the hero could reach for the villain's belt, the pair was distracted by a knock on the frosted door.
"Shoot." The hero hissed, finally regaining themself, sitting up and diving for the villain's coat on the floor. Sorry they mouthed before yelling towards the door.
"Justaminute!"
"Hurry up in there!" A voice called from the other side.
The hero was red in the face as they fixed their suit, struggling with the zipper the villain had started pulling down. The villain smirked, taking the liberty of zipping it up the rest of the way, his cold hands earning a flinch from the hero. They turned back towards him, before the hero opened their mouth the villain hushed them.
"I'll come see you later, okay Firework?" Their head tilted, their eyes lustful, and their hands right at his sides, exactly where the hero didn't want them. All the hero could utter out was a pathetic Ok, biting their lip to hide their gushing smile before rushing out of the office, only mouthing a bye halfway down the hall.
The villain watched them leave. They didn't mind the 6 or so heroes awaiting treatment. They had begun to regret their choice, chalking it up to a waste of time and effort. All they had wanted from the hero was the occasional fight to get out of boring afternoons lazing around the mayor's office- that had gotten stale. But this could work too. Oh, this could definitely work too, he thought with a dreamy smile. As he gestured for his next client to come in, he knew it would be a messy healing job- he found himself a tad bit distracted.
Healing his boredom would hurt, it just wouldn't hurt him. If he played his cards right, the hero wouldn't even notice their own destruction. After all, he was a very talented doctor.
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luna-lovegreat · 7 months
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Wild's apology
Since I really love proper apologies and taking account for actions, I MUST rant about Wild's apology because there are so many details making it... good. Just good.
First panel face, he looks uncertain. Hyrule said the little guy wanted to talk to him, but he doesn't know if it's only one little guy
We have the best opening line we all love, hoping he can imitate Zelda's diplomacy. Wild did not- his apologizing varied wildly from Zelda's, and I think that's a really good thing
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His Zelda's diplomacy is a royal style, seen in totk memories. When diplomatic, she uses formal words and straight posture, with her hands at her side or clasped in front. She doesn't need to say it's formal, since that's assumed. Wild did not imitate her exact style, but he kept the end goal of peace.
This whole first panel with him showing such tension, hoping with all his might it goes well, resolving to act the best he can to fix it... yes
There's something really telling about Wild's face walking in. He looks angry. With everything we've seen of his actions after twilight was injured, it's clear by now that when Wild's scared, it comes out as anger. All the previous yelling was because he was scared.
Since Wild's face looks angry walking in, after deciding to imitate diplomacy? I think he was terrified.
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One thing I love watching in people is how much the smallest body parts can show their thoughts. Hands can tell a lot about how someone's feeling. When Wild starts talking to Four, his hands show he's being open.
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Arms down at his side, palms up and hand reaching out. That hand and arm position shows vulnerability- he's literally opening his body to be open in his words and feelings.
And he's says "I know why you wanted to see me", which, well
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lol
Still, he came in immediately speaking to work to patch things up. The words "I'm ashamed"... admitting you're wrong is hard. Even harder is discussing the feelings that come with it.
Moving on, Wild's moving ahead to apologizing.
Wild is not royalty, and neither is four. Truly imitating Zelda's diplomacy with royal posture and attitude would have been weird. What they are is warriors, comrades who win battles together. And four works with the captain, who certainly sets an example of military respect. This is where him not exactly imitating Zelda's diplomacy is better, since he is not a princess.
He's a soldier in this moment. We don't know how much he remembers of his initial knighthood, but his soldier diplomacy kicked in here. He's basically standing at attention in the side view. Four is much shorter than him, but his straight posture and forward facing head (not looking down) shows absolute respect regardless of height. He outright states it's a formal apology.
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Awesome. It's not polished or perfect, there was a pause before the rather awkwardly phrased statement about initiating. But awkwardness makes it real. His face still looks fairly angry here! I still interpret it as fear.
His hands are straight at his side, then formally on his chest. He can't be the perfect knight anymore- instead he's awkward and unpolished. But he's doing diplomacy the best he knows how, even if four absolutely did not care about a formal tone.
Moving on! Four's listening.
Wild loosens up here. There's only so long our wild child can be formal, so he's not unnaturally pausing and trying to phrase things formally anymore
Hand placement: the hand behind the head is the Link pose we all know, where apparently it's a part of the hero's spirit when feeling awkward.
His hand goes from behind his head to held up in the air when saying "look, I'm sorry for shoving ya" I honestly like to think of this as pulling the apology from behind his head lol. Thinking for words "now where did I put that apology?" Finds it and holds it up "look! I'm sorry. It was just in the back of my mind."
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His hand then goes down to his side, and he's open again. Palm out, he's putting him out there.
His word choice matters. "ya"
"Honestly, that warranted an all out brawl" ... good. He's saying his actions were wrong- that he deserved anger towards him. Saying "all out brawl" validates fours actions. It warranted an all out brawl... that says that to wild, what four did was ok. All of it sucked, but it's ok.
My favourite line. "Thanks for going easy on me." It's important in so many ways for humility, showing respect, and how four could have done more, blah blah blah anyways I like it because I can imagine he says that and then the purple part of four just grins like "yeah I totally could have beat you up glad we're clear on that". I mean Four has done nothing but manically cackle when someone mentions his secret, so I think he probably had a devilish grin inside when Wild said thanks for going easy on me.
It's an apology and it's awkward! Awkward pauses, awkward faces. Hand behind the head, "ya". It was awkward. He kept going, showed sincerity. He struggled ahead, forging his way through (no pun intended), because it. Matters. To. Him. Being a person who can take responsibility is great and he cares about it. But the real reason is because four matters to him, and they have come so far. The amount of care it takes to just keep going until it's resolved shows a gold heart.
There's one of my favourite parallels between this update and a previous one in his explanation after apology. In his explanations... his face is the same.
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And this gets me so much. Look at this guy and his past. He was a perfect silent knight. Losing his cool or expressing emotion or fears was not even an option. And now he can mess up- which is terrifying. But look at how vulnerable his face is, how much he's allowing himself to feel in order to properly express his want to fix things.
And then he offers four his hand. If offering someone your hand and taking it isn't the sincerest form of love... this is so sweet. His face is so open, really wanting to (re)connect with four.
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They shake hands and the apologies are over, they move on to shiny metal. "Oh."
And overall this is incredible. People can admit they're wrong and apologize, anyone can say words. But to have facial expressions, posture all the way to hands, and connotations of words all showing honest sincerity is far more than most can ever hope for.
There's my favourite parallel in the progression in this update, the two times they took hands.
The first time is Wild offering his hand after apologizing, and this is where we get the last remnants of a formal soldier apology. Standing straight, arms straight towards each other.
Later on they take hands again, this time as friends connecting beyond making up.
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...
Making mistakes and hurting people doesn't make someone unlovable. Working to fix your mistakes makes someone lovely.
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dark-elf-writes · 2 months
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Ok so Hojo half sibling au what happens when cloud tells mama Strife about his new brother?
Cloud didn’t call often.
It was a sad truth that Claudia had learned to live with. Long distance calls were expensive, and a trooper’s salary only went so far. She certainly couldn’t afford to call as often as she liked even as the closest thing to a medical professional in Nibelheim (the others in the village only came to her as a last resort, like she was something tainted. A witch of old waiting to swoop down and steal their souls. It didn’t matter she had been seventeen when she got pregnant with her son. Didn’t matter that she had been an intern and scared of losing her job. Didn’t matter that she had lost her job anyway and become the village pariah all at once.) Still they wrote often enough that it dulled the worst of the ache in her chest when she looked to her son’s empty bed, still waiting for him should he come home.
So it was a surprise when her rarely used landline rang with no mention in Cloud’s most recent letter that he was calling.
First came the dread. The terror that those monsters she had let her son go to wouldn’t even grace her with a face to face discussion to tell her the worst had happened. But Claudia Strife had always been stubborn.
“Mama?” Cloud’s voice was strained when she picked up the phone, like it always sounded when he was trying to pretend everything was okay. “How are you?”
“I’ll be better when my son tells me what is going on. You never call out of the blue, Stormcloud. Are you okay? Were you hurt? Did those basta—“
“Ma. Mama! I’m fine!” Cloud huffed a quiet laugh. “It’s good news, really it’s just. A lot, ma. I don’t know where to start.”
“If you got some girl pregnant, Cloud.”
There was a laugh on the other end of the line, too deep to be her son’s. Oh. Oh.
(Suddenly Cloud’s childhood fixation on the shining stars of Shinra’s SOLDIER program made a lot of sense… and why her sweet boy wouldn’t act on those feelings until he had left their home far behind. Nibelheim was anything but open minded.)
“Cloud, are you—“
“I have a brother!”
A paragon of tact, her son was not.
Claudia pulled the towel from her shoulder and dropped it to the counter as she leaned back on it for support. How many other bright eyed girls had been ruined like she had? How many experiments ran on the most vulnerable? How many—
“Ma? Ma are you there?! Ma!”
“Here, baby. I’m here. In that who’s with you? Your brother?”
Cloud sighed. “Yeah and he promised to be quiet.” The last word was hissed in a tone so familiar that Claudia couldn’t help but laugh. She could almost see the narrow eyed look of annoyance her baby was shooting his half-brother.
“It’s a bit hard for us to meet if he’s quiet, Stormcloud.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not all.”
“Oh?”
“We… allegedly and completely unable to be proven... might have committed some slight arson.”
“Cloud Strife.”
“It was allegedly against our… fuck, I don’t know what to call him. No way it’s going to be ‘father.’”
“Donor perhaps?” That voice offered again. Familiar in a way she couldn’t place.
“… Good boys.”
That deeper voice from before choked. Claudia could hear the smug satisfaction in Cloud’s voice when he spoke again. “There’s more still.”
Claudia laughed almost hysterically. “If you’ve allegedly committed mur—“
“Sephiroth is my brother!”
Everything in Claudia froze.
Sephiroth.
Shinra’s Silver General.
The boy who had been dropped into the middle of a war and come out a blooded hero. A child made into a killer too young.
The perfect experiment.
She wanted to throw up. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry.
Instead she forced a smile with no kindness. No gentleness. A mother wolf baring her teeth. “I’m coming to Midgar.”
“Ma!”
“I have enough saved up for this, Stormcloud. I need to see my sons.”
“Sons?” Sephiroth’s voice was carefully neutral. A brilliant mask that would have fooled the world. A mask that did nothing against a mother’s intuition. (Under that careful calm Claudia could hear the tremble of a child, alone and scared even now that he had grown larger than life. A little boy who desperately wanted to be loved. It only made her more certain of her choice.)
“Sons,” She confirmed. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Cloud sputtered. “At least let me buy your ticket ma! I’m a SOLDIER now! They gave me a sign on bonus.”
“I know Shinra bonuses as well as you do, young man. Save it for yourself.”
“Then let me pay,” Sephiroth offered. “Firsts make far more than new recruits and I can hardly allow my… allow you to be put in a difficult position, Ms. Strife.”
“Claudia or mom, or ‘ma’ I suppose if you’re impatient like our little stormcloud.” Claudia was rewarded with a flustered squawk of ‘Ma’ from her son… her youngest son. She smiled even through the ache in her chest. “And no, Sephiroth dear, you don’t need to spend money on me. It’s your money to use for yourself, sweetheart. Now I need to pack, boys! I’ll call when I have a set date of arrival!”
“Ma!”
“M— Claudia, I must insist—“
Claudia hung up the phone before they could try to push further about paying. This had to be her choice. Had to be her money. Had to be her doing. After all, they had confirmed it. Hojo was in Midgar, and Claudia was allegedly going to greet him as she should have all those years ago. With her boot knife to his throat and the assurance of exactly what she would do to him if he touched her boys.
Maybe she should take a look at some of those old files in the Manor before she left. Hojo was always a squirrelly bastard. It would be just like him to stash away some of his previous findings in the labs deep underground and she would bet her life that the information on Sephiroth’s past would be down there too along with gods only knew what other demons lurked in Hojo’s past.
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calisources · 10 months
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CW'S   SUPERNATURAL   SENTENCE   QUOTES.   all   sentences   have   been   taken   from   mostly   the   kripke   era   (season   1   to   season   5)   of   erik   kripke's   supernatural,   mainly   season   four   and   five.   change   names/pronouns/locations   as   you   see   fit.
SEASON FOUR .
If you're going to shoot, shoot! Don't talk!
Please. Dean, maybe angels can pull you out of Hell but no one can do that.
So, you guys are like Mulder and Scully or something, and the X-Files are real?
It was beauty that killed the beast.
Anna may have sent the angels to the outfield, but sooner or later, they're gonna be back.
I suppose some dumb bastard stood here, felt a jolt of his holy juice and thought 'I'm going to build me a nun factory.' Well, it was the right idea... wrong angel.
Tell me something. Where's God in all this?
I'm not sure if he's my brother any more. If he ever was.
Are you under the impression that family's supposed to make you feel good? Make you an apple pie, maybe? They're supposed to make you miserable! That's why they're family.
If you walk out that door, don't you ever come back.
You don't know me. You never did, and you never will.
Congrats, Sammy. You just bought yourself a benchwarmer seat to the Apocalypse.
I serve Heaven, I don't serve man. And I certainly don't serve you.
Forever. The demons will never stop. You can never be with your family. So, you either get as far away from them as possible. Or you put a bullet in your head, And that's how you keep your family safe.
You know I finally get why you and dad butted heads so much. You two are practically the same person. 
I mean I worshipped the guy, y'know: I dressed like him, I acted like him, I listened to the same music. But you are more like him than I will ever be. I see that now.
Okay, so basically you're saying that every movie monster, every nightmare that I've ever had, that's all real.
He's a Winchester. He's already cursed.
It was too preposterous. Not to mention arrogant! I mean, writing yourself into the story is one thing, but as a prophet? That's like M. Night level douchiness.
Uriel's the funniest angel in the garrison. Ask anyone.
 I'm not a hero, I'm not strong enough.
 I know our fate rests with you.
I couldn't break him, pulled out all the stops, but John, he was made of something unique. The stuff of heroes. 
You need to learn how to manage a damn devil's trap.
Tell me something, geniuses. Even if you do break into the Veil and you find the Reaper. how are you going to save it?
SEASON FIVE.
The only thing you're going to see out there is Michael killing your brother.
I'm gonna rip you apart from the inside out. Do you understand me?
No doubt - endings are hard. But then again... nothing ever really ends, does it?
You try to tie up every loose end, but you never can. 
Dean, even for you, this is a whole new mountain of stupid.
Sorry if it's a bit chilly. Most people think I burn hot. It's actually quite the opposite.
Well, I got to ask. How old are you?
As old as God. Maybe older. Neither of us can remember anymore. Life, death, chicken, egg. Regardless - at the end, I'll reap him, too.
That's the beauty about improv, Sammy. You never know what's gonna come out of your mouth.
You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man that I believed you to be.
World's gonna end, seems silly to get all precious over one little soul.
Why? Because Crowley said so? Because we trust him now?
You think you own the planet? What gives you the right?!?
No one gives us the right. We take it.
You're not my father. And you ain't in my shoes. 
I mean, whatever happened to personal loyalty? How long have I worked for these guys. Five millennia? Six?
 It's funnier in Enochian.
 This creature has the power to take a human's form, read minds. 
And you think you know better than my father? The one unimportant little man. What makes you think you get to choose?
 It's a plan that is playing itself out perfectly. Free will's an illusion, Dean. That's why you're going to say yes.
Think of the million random choices that you make--and yet how each and everyone of them brings you closer to your destiny.
As it is in Heaven, so it must be on Earth. One brother has to kill the other.
Well, call it personal experience. Nobody gets that angry unless they're talking about their own family.
You know why God cast me down? Because I loved him. More than anything.
Now, tell me... does the punishment fit the crime? Especially when I was right? 
 Look at what six billion of you have done to this thing, and how many of you blame me for it?
Honestly, people don't need a reason to kill each other. I mean, you seen the Irish? They're all Irish.
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