#and nobody's ever gonna want someone who looks like a child and i can never trust anyone that does if they pursued me because i look like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slaybestieslay946 · 4 months

Note

Luke Castellan and Persephone!Child (I know she doesn’t canonically have Demi-god kids but I feel like it fits well) with a story similar to Eurydice and Orpheus’s sad tale.

thank you so much for your request, it acc ties in really well to a fic idea ive had for a while, so i was so excited to see this in my inbox!!

Circle

MASTERLIST

word count: 1800

pairing: luke castellan x persephone!reader

warnings: death, minor depictions of violence, angst

a/n: partly inspired by the request, partly by mitski's song 'circle' honestly i think it made this extra gut-wrenching. hope you all enjoy!

'Nobody knows my lover, is buried underground.'

When Luke Castellan received his quest, everyone knew who he would pick to take with him.

Immediately, he turned to you, flashing you a bright grin, and beckoning you towards him. You laughed, wading through the crowd to your lover, smiling brightly all the way.

The rest of camp half blood rolled their eyes fondly at the pair of you, and just how disgustingly in love you were.

It had been like this ever since you arrived at camp half blood, mere months after Luke himself.

You’d been escorted to the Hermes cabin by one of the older campers, and sat down on a bunk bed. You had looked around the place, lost, confused, and homesick.

And then a boy stepped up to you, asking how you were, what your name was. And gods, even at the age of 14, you knew he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. Luke thought the same about you.

He was so drawn to you, he couldn’t stay away.

Now, even 4 years later, nothing had changed.

He was openly enraptured by you, just as Hades was with your mother. He was never seen without you by his side, so of course he’d pick you to bring on his first quest.

A few days later, you set off, Luke’s half-brother, Chris Rodriguez in tow. Everything started off well, you’d managed to locate someone to tell you where the Garden of Hesperides was, in order to retrieve the golden apple that you had been sent for.

On the way there, you hardly encountered any monsters. You lived comfortably, even if you slept in motels every night, and dined on gas station food.

It all went downhill when you finally reached the garden.

You and Chris stood guard whilst Luke stepped towards the tree, no sword in his hand. You kept your spear gripped tightly in your hand, should he awake the dragon sleeping at his feet.

He eventually reached the foot of the tree, taking a deep breath before reaching up into the branches, and trying to snag one of the apples. Meanwhile, you didn’t take your eyes off the dragon, watching it for any sign of movement.

And when it finally opened its dark eye, looking up at Luke, you ran forward, sprinting towards it with your spear outstretched to stab it.

But you weren’t fast enough, and it turned, slashing a talon across your chest, and sending you collapsing onto the ground, blood soaking into your shirt.

Luke darted towards you and in his rush, he wasn’t able to avoid the sharp tail of the dragon whipping across his face, leaving a fine cut all the way down it.

He ignored the biting pain, barely able to register it when all he could see was you, lying on the floor, a pool of blood encircling you.

“Hey, Y/N.” He whispered, patting your cheek gently, cradling your body to his chest, “You’re gonna be alright, yeah? Just open your eyes for me baby.”

You struggled to do as he asked, looking up at your lover with confused eyes.

“You-” You coughed, “You have to go. It’s over for me. Gonna go see mom.”

“No, no. Gotta stay with me. We can get through this.” He cried, brushing his thumbs across your face.

“I- I- I love y-you. W-we’ll s-see each other ag-gain.” You did your best to smile, and while all you wanted to do was reach up and hold his face, you found you didn’t have the strength to do so.

He continued to cry and beg you to come back, but it was all for nothing, you’d gone silent, and your eyes were all still.

And then vines began to wrap around your body, pulling you into the earth, down towards Persephone, your mother.

Luke kept crying as they took you away from him, leaving nothing but your camp necklace behind.

“Hey, man, we gotta go.” He heard Chris call, and he whipped his head around to berate him, until he saw his half-brother was currently in combat with the dragon that had killed you.

He was right, they had to go.

He scooped your camp necklace off of the ground, and ran towards his brother, who detached from his fight with the dragon to run away from the garden. Luke followed after him, tears streaming down his face the whole way.

When Luke got back to camp, he was different. Numb.

Annabeth ran up to him when they descended the hill, a bright smile on her face at her older brother's return. It faded slightly when she saw you weren’t right beside him.

“Where’s Y/N?” She asked, looking around as if you’d pop out from nowhere.

“Gone.” Was all Luke could manage to say, pulling his little sister in for a hug he so desperately needed, confirmation that at least she was still here.

For the next few months, he barely left the Hermes cabin, only ever going down to the amphitheatre in the early hours of the morning, where he could be seen slashing recklessly at wooden dummies left right and centre.

He didn’t know how to live without you. He always thought you’d be with him forever. He had this vision that together you would grow old, and would die while sitting on some front porch, holding hands as you went at the same moment.

Now he realised that it was a pipedream. You were demigods, it was never going to work out like that.

But he couldn’t go on living like this. He didn’t want to wake up in the morning if you weren’t beside him. So he formed his plan, to go down to the underworld and retrieve you himself.

His father was the god of travellers, and your mother was the queen of the underworld. It could work.

So he travelled to the entrance to the underworld, your camp necklace in his hands, and prayed. First to your mother, asking for an audience, and second to his father, asking for use of his access to the underworld. It was the first time he had ever asked Hermes for anything, and if this worked, it would probably be the last. He’d never want for anything again if it meant you were with him again.

And it did work. The gate opened to him, a long staircase down into the darkness. Luke descended quickly; he didn’t want to keep Persephone, or you for that matter, waiting.

He soon found himself pushing through crowds of lost souls, keeping a look out for you, but you were nowhere in sight. He then turned his attention back to reaching Persephone’s throne, breathing a sigh of relief as he finally found himself at the foot of it, looking up at the goddess herself.

“You requested an audience with me, Mr Castellan. I hope this is not about my daughter.” Persephone said sternly, looking down at the demigod, her fears confirmed when she saw the string of beads clutched in his hands.

“It is, but-”

“There’s no buts. I can’t do anything about your predicament. It is not within my jurisdiction.” She declared, her voice growing regretful, “My daughter is in Elysium, and that’s where she must stay.”

“My lady, I understand that this is difficult for you. But we both know Y/N… died before her time. She would want to come back. She deserves to have a life.”

“And you would give that to her?”

“Yes.”

“And you would protect her, better than I can?”

Luke gulped, “Just as well.”

The goddess sighed, and muttered, almost to herself, “We have had this problem before, persuasive mortals and their tales of love. Let’s see if you can fare any better, Luke Castellan.”

“I will release my only daughter from the underworld, on one condition. As you lead her back into the world of the living, you mustn’t look back at her. She will be following you, trust me on that, demigod.”

“And if I do? Look back?”

“Then you will never see her again. Not in your world, nor mine,” She looked down at him once again, a sad look in her eyes, “Now go, exit through the fields of asphodel, she will follow you from there.”

Luke nodded firmly, and turned back around, returning the way he came, smiling more brightly than he had in months.

He was going to see his Y/N again, all he had to do was not look back at her, how difficult could that be?

He pushed his way back through the fields of asphodel, keeping a tight hold of her camp beads. As soon as they reached the surface, he would string them around her neck again. He’d be able to hold her face in his palms, to kiss her, to hug her. Everything would be alright again.

As he returned to the staircase, he felt a rush of wind behind him. It had to be her. Then, to confirm his suspicions, he heard soft footsteps on the stone staircase. Luke smiled to himself once again, wishing so desperately that he could greet her, but not wanting to break Persephone’s rules.

He continued up the staircase for what felt like hours, it was definitely taking him a lot longer this time. The thing that kept him going was your footsteps behind him, a reminder that you were still there, following after him.

Until they stopped, right as he became able to see the light coming from the living world above him.

He paused for a moment, listening out for you. But he couldn’t hear anything besides his panting breaths and the odd screech of a harpy.

Luke began to grow worried, a pit forming in his stomach, but he kept climbing the stairs. Persephone told him you’d be following, she wouldn’t lie, would she?

Or maybe it was all some elaborate joke. Fortune hadn’t been on his side recently.

Maybe he should check. Just a peek, it couldn’t hurt, could it? What was so wrong about him looking back anyway, why shouldn’t he want to see his lover, the girl he would do anything for?

So he did. He turned, to look over his shoulder.

And of course, you were right behind him, just like your mother said you would.

At first you looked joyful to see him, and then your face fell in horror as you realised what he had done. You reached out to touch him, to hold on, but you couldn’t quite reach. And then you felt yourself being pulled back, away from him.

Luke watched on in horror as you fell back into the abyss.

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #fanfic #pjo #luke castellan #x reader #angst #mitski #mitski circle #mitski lyrics

247 notes · View notes

a66-1 · 26 days

Text

starving

part 1 | part 2 [you're here!]

Simon x Fem!Insecure!Reader.

finally got the idea for part 2. excited?

me too

TW: Talk of ed's, negative self talk, low self esteem, bad mouthing (from reader to herself, comes with the territory) cursing, self harm. i tried not to be too descriptive with the reader, so EVERY insecure girlie who reads this feels seen.

semi proofread bc who cares

The next morning was exhausting as the last.

You got up early to go running. If you ever have the chance, you run until the sun comes up. You need to stay fit if you want a boyfriend. It was easier when you were on your meds. Almost like you had the will to live those mornings.

You were back at the house around 8 am. You weren't scheduled for work today so... You headed back to bed and really, just slept the day away

You woke up around 5 pm. 5, really? God, you are just some depressed child.

You got out of bed for the second time, and changed into a dress. It was hard seeing yourself in a dress after 2 years. You stopped going out because alcoholism and anti-depressants aren't really two peas in a pod, are they?

Well this is why you quit. You dropped your therapist and your meds because you were better, and your mom stopped helping with the payments, and now you can go back to partying.

Minus the heavy drinking.

Hopefully.

You tear your eyes off yourself. If you stare too long, you'll end up convincing yourself to stay in bed longer. You configure the rest of your outfit, and grab a small black purse. Throwing your phone in it, you leave the house quicky. If you don't, you might properly convince yourself you're just as ugly as you thought..

The drive to the bar was silent, save from the honking cars around you. Fuck, what if this is the wrong idea? I mean the looks everyone will give you, you look so bad and so ugly and god this was such a bad--

You hear a car honk behind you. The light turned green. You lower your head, sighing, and taking a left.

Once at the bar, you slip into one of the seats nearer the back, feeling uncomfortable in the seat. Adjusting your dress down, you cringe while looking around the bar. There's so many pretty women here, and comparatively you are way under them.

You order a drink, sipping on the alcohol for the first time in months. Fuck, your therapist would be losing it if she knew you not only stopped meds but started drinking again...

You rested your head in your palm, watching others interact. Pretty women just have a way with men, a way you've never had. The buzz of the alcohol was enough to make you not question why nobody has interacted with you, other than the bartender. People probably think your such a loser, I mean, who would just sit here and drink--

"Hey. You're, uh.. That girl from yesterday right?" A gruff voice appears behind you. You flinch forward, whipping your head around.

Oh. This guy.

You slowly put your drink down, your palm over the top of it.

"And who are you?" You ask, eyeing the man. He didn't have his mask on. He was... Really cute.

"A customer." He sat next to me, his eyes trained on mine. I felt sort of flushed under his gaze.

Fuckin' small world.

You spent some of the night talking with him. Still don't know his name, or why you ran into him here, but you don't care nonetheless.

You were looking for sex this night but... Is a connection so bad?

Like you could make a connection with someone who is out of your league.

thank god i finished this. 3 drafts later, and im sorry its kinda short. trust part 3 is gonna have the good stuff, this is kinda a filler so it can get to the good stuff.

ily babes...

-a661

taglist:

@i-am-hungry-24-7 @arminarlertssword @haven-1307

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon fluff #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost fluff

111 notes · View notes

ckret2 · 5 months

Text

Chapter 32 of human Bill is convinced he's the best prisoner ever and does not deserve this abuse from the Pines:

Bill gets his fingernails painted! 💅🌈✨ Look at his fingernails, I drew this week's picture just to show them off. They're fun.

Bill also gets bound to a magic poppet that can control his every move.

It's hilarious for Dipper and Mabel, but not for Bill.

The early morning still was broken by Stan's wails of despair.

At some point during the night, the egg-and-toilet-papering kids had come back to Stan's car.

And they'd brought rocks.

####

Bill woke up with a sheet tossed over him and a cupcake sitting on the window seat. The cupcake was pink with green frosting and decorated like a happy jack-o'-melon. It was sitting on top of a note:

"Sorry I didn't mention I had plans tonight! Robbie's mom made cupcakes for everyone so I grabbed you one. The music video's gonna be AMAZING! I'll show you when Robbie posts it!" Mabel had signed with a shooting star.

Bill decided he hadn't been mad at Mabel last night at all.

He battled gravity to heave himself vertical, trudged downstairs to the bathroom, stuck his face under the faucet until his mouth tasted less like sour sandpaper, agonizingly dragged himself back upstairs to his makeshift bed, and collapsed under the sheet to wait until his head stopped hammering.

####

Sprawled on the living room floor, Mabel said, "What should I draw?"

"Draw me." Bill was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, watching the news and nursing a glass of Mabel juice. In an effort to counteract the lingering queasiness from overdosing on sugar and chocolate, he'd spiked the juice with two ground-up Elderly 60+ Vitaman™ brand Man Vitamins (khaki flavor) stolen from a bottle that Ford had bought for Stan and that Stan forgot to take.

"Okay!" Mabel turned around and squinted up at Bill. "Strike a pose!"

"Not like this!" Bill shoved a hand in Mabel's face to force her to stop looking. "Draw me how I really look."

"Bill, that's illegal. Remember?" Mabel pointed at the TV. Bodacious T was reporting on a child who'd dressed up for Summerween as "that weird out-of-towner who bothered us last year, you know the one," and who, under the Never Mind All That Act, had been fined fifty pieces of candy. The child's mugshot showed his crying face, but blurred out his yellow costume.

"He'd be the coolest kid in town," Bill said, "if he wasn't such a crybaby in front of the cops. Draw me anyway."

"I don't wanna get arrested!"

"Do you see any cops?" Bill grinned. "Just don't sign your name, nobody will know it was you."

Mabel considered that. "I can sign it someone else's name." She pulled out a few crayons.

"That's what I'm talking about! Do anything you want forever and frame the innocent!"

"What do you want me to draw you doing?"

"The coolest thing you can think of."

Mabel considered that, and got to work.

The news was boring now. They were talking about the weather, and it wasn't even interesting weather. "So hey, you were gonna tell me about filming last night?"

"Oh yeah!" Mabel said. "Did I mention the part where the dead rose from their graves?"

Bill muted the TV. "And I missed it?"

Robbie had decided the cemetery at his place would be more atmospheric than the trick-or-treater-filled streets (and less likely to have their shots ruined by passersby that didn't appreciate the depth of Robbie's lyrics). It went great, until the vibrations of angsty rock-and-roll stirred the slumbering corpses and they clawed their way from their graves. It turned out Gravity Falls had been having off-and-on invasions of the undead for the past year, ever since somebody decided to reanimate every corpse in town for fun, Bill.

"You can't prove it was me, I'm not the only one who knows how to raise the dead!" Bill laughed. "Hey—you're not drawing this body, are you? You said you wouldn't."

"I'm not, I promise!"

"Then why do you keep staring at me?"

"Um."

"Let me see!"

"No! Don't ruin the surprise!" Mabel picked up a glitter pen with feathers glued to the end and waved them in Bill's face. "And no cheating with your eye-bleeding psychic magic!"

Bill smacked the pen away. "Fine! So what did you do with the zombies? Feed one of the teens to them?"

"No! I chewed like four packs of gum me and Dipper got from the weird homeless dentist and made a fake baby brain. We used it as bait to lead them into an open grave," Mabel said. "And then we realized we could use the brain to train them to do tricks! So now we have dancing zombies in the music video. They actually learned the choreography pretty easily."

"Makes sense," Bill said. "I did fill the space where their souls should be with an insatiable hunger to party."

Mabel grinned. "I thought you said they weren't your fault."

"If they're good at dancing, I'm taking credit!"

"They were pretty good—especially considering how many limbs they were missing," Mabel said. "I'll show you when Robbie's finished editing the video."

"And I'll get to see you playing a creepy ghost kid, right?"

"Yeah! We were the greatest ghosts ever! Check it out, we were like—" Mabel fixed Bill with a dead-eyed slack-jawed stare and whisper-sang, "'We're the things that you have lost. Childhood joy, dead as a ghost.'"

"Chills."

"Dipper tried so hard to get in character as a ghost that he completely zoned out for a minute! When we shook him out of it, he said he felt like he had an out-of-body experience!"

####

At his computer, Robbie clicked play on a clip of the twins standing side-by-side in front of the cemetery gate. As they sang the chorus, Dipper's face went still; and then a spectral gray form rose out of his head, still singing in sync with Mabel.

"Whoa," Robbie said. "Sick. I'm keeping that in."

####

"So, it turns out my bro is an expert method actor," Mabel boasted.

Bill thought back to Dipper drifting up and down the stairs in the middle of the night. "Yep. Sounds like he's got quite a talent."

Mabel set down her crayons and held out a paper. "Okay—what do you think?"

Bill accepted the drawing. "Am I riding on the back of a rocket ship?"

"Like a bucking bronco! See the rocket flames doing a loop?"

"Sure do. Why am I holding a fish bowl?"

"It's like a cowboy waving his hat, but, you're in space. So that's your astronaut helmet."

"It's beautiful," Bill said intensely. "It's the best thing I've ever seen."

"Aw, really? Thanks!"

"When I take over the universe, I'm rearranging the constellations to look like this."

"Don't do that, though."

"Fine, but I'm hanging it up in my throne room." Bill set down his empty glass so he could hold the picture with both hands, beaming at it as proudly as though he'd made it himself. Big change from his lukewarm reception of her house drawing yesterday. She should draw Bill more often. Being a good artist meant understanding what your audience wanted.

Unfortunately, now that she'd finished her drawing, she didn't have anything to distract her from staring at Bill. And she'd taken about as much of seeing him as she could stand. "Bill. I say this with non-judgmental love. But you look sooo terrible."

"Yeah, I know. I think I'm shaped about as nicely as a human could ask for," he pantomimed drawing a triangle in front of his torso, "but let's be real, there's only so much you can do when you're working with a human bone structure. And there's way too much neck—"

"No! Bill, your body is beautiful just the way it is, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I meant your hair looks awful."

Bill had taken a shower yesterday morning, emerged with his hair all wet and tangled, and done absolutely nothing to detangle it. And then, with it still half damp and totally disheveled, he'd shoved it under a cheap acrylic wig for the rest of the night. And then he'd fallen asleep on the floor still wearing the wig.

And now, with the wig removed, his hair looked like a bird had plucked out half a scarecrow's straw brains and made a nest out of it.

"It sure does," Bill said, with the slightly forlorn air of someone complaining about a war in a far-off country over which one had no power.

"So brush it!"

"No. Never. You can't make me."

"Why not? I thought you wanted to keep your hair all triangly!"

"Not enough to touch it. Either it'll figure out how to straighten out on its own or it won't, I'm not messing with it. I've got enough going on in my life today." By which he meant he had the last lingering traces of a hangover, which was a valid excuse to get out of all social, moral, and aesthetic obligations.

Mabel groaned in frustration. "I can't take looking at it anymore! If you won't brush it, can I?"

Bill gave her a skeptical look; but then he flung his hands out dismissively. "Sure, why not? If it bothers you so much. Have at it."

"I'll be right back!"

She got her brush from upstairs and a spray bottle from the kitchen, and directed Bill to sit on the floor so she could get on the couch behind him. After making such a fuss about brushing his hair, Bill was surprisingly well-behaved with somebody else brushing it for him. He didn't even complain when Mabel accidentally yanked on some nasty snarls a little harder than she meant to.

"I feel like a corpse getting prettied up for my funeral," Bill said. "Grooming each other is how humans bond, isn't it? This is one of your little social rituals? If all you wanted was to make sure we're still friends after you ditched me last night, you could have just asked."

Mabel shoved her foot between Bill's shoulder blades. Wise guy. She joked, "Yeah! We're bonding now! After this we're gonna paint each other's fingernails and talk about what kind of boys we like."

"I want rainbow spiral fingernails."

Mabel really should be used to this—but she still kept getting surprised that Bill was interested in the stuff she liked. And not even in a patronizing sure-I'll-play-along way. He'd turned to look at her. There was a gleam in his eyes. He really wanted rainbow spiral fingernails.

And now she wanted rainbow spiral fingernails, too. "Fine! But look forward until I finish your hair." One way or another, Mabel vowed, she would reform Bill into a proper good guy—even if she had to drag him there kicking and screaming. Fun dress-up partners were hard to find, and she couldn't afford to lose Bill.

####

Soos wandered to the living room to find somewhere to hang up his and Melody's "Best Couple Cosplay" award, but stopped in the doorway.

Bill, Mabel, and Waddles were sitting on the floor, watching some kind of cartoon psychedelic fairy princess lecture a spider on the importance of colors, with a bowl of popcorn between them. Bill and Mabel both had bright multicolor fingernails and were eating the popcorn with chopsticks to avoid touching their nails. There was more popcorn on the floor than in the bowl. Waddles had taken no such cares to avoid dragging his freshly painted hooves through the carpet.

"Truth or dare," Bill said.

"Dare!"

"Dare you to assassinate the..." Bill trailed off. "I can't have the mayor assassinated, he runs Rainbow Club. And the sheriff and deputy invited me... There aren't a lot of public officials in this dumb town, are there?"

"I'm not killing anybody, Bill. Truth."

"Fine, coward. What's your favorite toxic fume fragrance?"

"That's easy! Gasoline!"

"Hey, mine too! At least on this planet. It smells like—you know that smell that heralds the coming of rain? Gasoline is the smell that heralds a really fun time."

"Yeah! Like going on a road trip!"

Bill paused. "Right! I was... I was definitely thinking about road trips. That's exactly what I meant."

Mabel added, "And it looks so cool when there's a little bit spilled in a parking spot—"

"The rainbow puddles! Yes! Big fan of the rainbow puddles—"

"I love parking lot rainbow puddles! It's like surprise happiness in the most boring place on the planet!"

Soos mumbled, "Girl talk," decided to hang his award up later, and left.

####

Dipper heard the bedroom door open and Mabel call, "Hey Dipper!"

"Hey." He didn't look up from his journal, where he was documenting last night's zombie adventures. "Oh, hey, bad news—Wendy said she got a text from Robbie, it sounds like all the footage from the cemetery last night is ruined?"

"Aww! What? But we worked so hard to train those zombies!"

"Yeah, it's just static. But everything we shot outside the gates is fine. I wonder if it's something supernatural that interferes with electronics?"

"Something supernatural? In the cemetery? Full of zombies? What are the odds of that!" Mabel laughed. "But heyyy, I've got some good news!"

"What?"

Mabel stuck a hairbrush full of gold hair between Dipper's face and his journal. "I got a replacement for the Bill hair sample we gave Pacifica!" She grinned and whispered, "Wanna make a poppet?"

####

It would have been really cool if the first full moon of summer vacation had come on Summerween. But the calendar gods were unkind that year, and instead, it came the next day, on June 23.

Which worked out, in the end, since it meant they didn't have any scheduling conflicts on the one night they could make a poppet.

They had the ritual space set up in their bedroom—a chalk star drawn on the floor with a black candle at each point—and the doll representing Bill—which Mabel had upgraded with button eyes and a miniature version of his favorite knit hoodie. They collected all the shed blonde strands off Mabel's hairbrush, wrapped them around the doll's neck, and tied them on. They set the doll in the center of the star; Bartholomew talked them through the ritual; the flames on the candles leaped a foot in the air, turned a pale blue, and then went out; and the binding ritual was complete. The doll was now connected to Bill Cipher.

"Weird," Bartholomew said. "Usually the flames turn black. I've never seen them turn blue before."

Dipper said, "That's not a problem, is it?"

"No, no. I've just never used the binding ritual on an alien before! I guess it works a little different!"

Dipper picked up the doll and eyed it skeptically. "Mabel, I know we said we're saving this for emergencies only, but—maybe we should test it out just to make sure it actually works?"

"I guess we should," Mabel said, grimacing. "Just—don't do anything that'd hurt him. Okay?"

Yeah, Dipper should've expected that. Whether he liked it or not, Mabel didn't just see Bill as her weird experiment in criminal rehabilitation—she saw him as her friend. He sighed. "Okay. But is it fine if we do something that would embarrass him?"

Mabel shrugged. "I don't see why not!"

####

As they crept from their room, Mabel whispered, "What if we stick him in a box and shake it up? And then tell him there was an earthquake!"

"I thought you were the one who didn't want to hurt him."

"Oh right."

Bill wasn't on his cushions under the window, so they crept downstairs. Halfway down, Dipper stopped, putting a hand on Mabel's arm. Bill was sitting at the kitchen table, chin in his hand, staring out the window.

"This is perfect," he whispered. "He's completely vulnerable. He's got his back to us, he's looking at the moonlight—even if he turns around, he won't see us because his eyes will have to readjust to the dark."

"I don't know if his eyes need to adjust," Mabel said. "Have you ever noticed he never turns the lights on when he goes into a room?"

Dipper considered that. He hadn't noticed—but now that Mabel mentioned it, Bill did have a tendency to lurk in the dark. "Well—okay, but he's still not looking at us. Let's see how this works..." He studied the doll; then turned it around and gently brushed a finger through its yarn hair.

For a moment, nothing happened; and then Bill swatted at the back of his head and looked around, as if he was trying to find what had touched him.

"I think it's working," Dipper hissed.

"Are you sure? What if there's actually a fly in the kitchen?"

Could be. "Let me see if it can control him."

"Careful—"

Dipper grabbed one of the doll's arms and tentatively lifted it.

Bill's arm shot up. He stared at it in bafflement. "Wh...?"

Mabel bit her lip. Dipper waved the doll's arm.

Bill's arm waved. After a pause, he tentatively asked, "Hello?" As if he thought maybe his arm was waving at someone and he should play along with it.

Mabel and Dipper clapped their hands over their mouths, fighting to keep their giggles quiet. Mabel elbowed Dipper, "Hey Dipper Dipper Dipper, get him to stand up, let me control his legs, I have the best idea—"

Bill knocked over his chair and had to flail his arms for balance as he abruptly jerked to his feet. He looked around, eyes wide and wild, an edge of panic to his voice as he hollered, "WHAT'S GOING ON!"

Dipper held the doll out to Mabel. "Okay hurry!" Mabel took it by the legs—

—and Bill started doing the cancan. He shrieked. "WHAT?!"

Dipper shoved his shirt over his mouth to muffle his hysterics. Mabel was letting little wheezy squeaks out through her nose. Bill's voice was almost an octave higher as he screamed, "WHEN I FIND OUT WHO'S BEHIND THIS, I'M GONNA SHRED YOU—" and they both got so close to bursting laughing out loud that they had to pause to punch each other's shoulders for self control.

Still holding one of the doll's legs up, Mabel hissed, "Dipper do you remember the bottle dance. Where they crouch down with bottles on their heads. Can we—can we get a tiny bottle for the doll—"

Bill was failing both arms to avoid falling with one foot held in the air. He grabbed the counter for balance. And then, with a grunt of effort, he wrenched his foot down and stomped it to the ground.

The doll's leg yanked out of Mabel's hand.

Dipper and Mabel fell silent, staring at the doll. They looked at each other. Mabel whispered, "It shouldn't be able to do that, right?"

They looked at Bill.

Bill's face was burning red, and he was so far past fury that his expression was perfectly blank. His eyes were huge, and round, and pointed straight at them.

They bolted up the stairs.

Bill charged after them.

They screamed in terror. They weren't loud enough to drown out Bill: "WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU BRATS—"

Mabel grabbed Dipper's arm. "Dipper, do something!"

"Uhh—!" He tossed the doll in the air and caught it.

They heard an alarmed yelp as Bill was launched in the air and then a crash as he landed on the stairs again.

They scrambled into their room and slammed the door. "Safe!" Mabel said.

"Yeah," Dipper said, panting for breath. "Can't get us here."

The doll's head twisted 180 degrees to stare up at them.

They yelped. Dipper tossed the doll to Mabel. Mabel held it out at arm's length, threw it in her nightstand's drawer, and slammed it. It tried to open again and she leaned against it with her full body weight. "Dipper, the duct tape! In my craft supplies!"

"Which craft supplies?!"

The tiny knocking inside the drawer was echoed by the pounding at the door, accompanied by a string of creative death threats: "—and when I'm finished the coroner won't know which corpse was which! I'll make a belt out of your spinal columns—!"

"We didn't do anything," Mabel shouted, "it wasn't our fault!" She took the duct tape from Dipper and frantically wrapped it around the night stand. Dipper added, "It was someone else! And we'll never do it again—"

Sleepy and muffled, Soos's voice drifted through the door, "Dudes? What's all the hubbub?"

Dipper and Mabel gasped, "Soos!" "Save us!"

His voice the perfect tone of righteous indignation, Bill declared, "I'm being assaulted, that's what!"

Stan's voice joined in from downstairs: "BILL! If you don't leave those kids alone I'll cave your nose in!"

"THEY'RE THE AGGRESSORS," Bill screamed, half hysterical. "They are! I'm the victim here! I'm being victimized!"

Stan shouted, "Kids, good work! Bill, you can go to—" He grumbled as he self-censored, "—sleep! Shut up and go to sleep!"

"You can go jump in the bottomless pit, Stanley Pines! I'll tear you all apart with my teeth if I have to! NOBODY in this stupid junk heap of a shack is getting any sleep until I get my—"

From just outside the attic door, Stan roared, "BILL!"

There was a dull thud as Bill leaned against their door; a lot less shouty, he quickly said, "I'm going to bed, I'm going to bed, I'm going to bed."

"That's what I thought," Stan snapped. The kids heard his footsteps retreating downstairs. Soos said, "Um... night," and his door shut. After a moment, there was the creak of footsteps retreating from the attic door.

Dipper and Mabel slowly, softly snuck across the room to the door, and pressed their ears to the crack. No sound.

They stayed there for several minutes, barely breathing, listening to the silence.

Finally, Mabel pulled away and looked at Dipper. They both nodded, and Dipper opened the door a crack to check if the coast was clear.

Bill's eye stared in. "Hey, kids!"

They yelled. Dipper tried to slam the door; but Bill had already shoved his hand through. Fingernails painted with neon colors and black spirals clawed at the doorframe. He shouldered through the gap in the door, and then he was in the room, smiling much too wide and eyes fixed on them like helicopter spotlights on two wanted criminals. There was blood on his teeth. "Wow! Playing with poppets?"

Dipper upturned his suitcase and held it up like a shield. Mabel pointed a can of spray paint at Bill's face. Bill took a step closer and they took a step back.

"Pretty advanced trick for a couple of children your age," Bill said conversationally. "Not bad, not bad at all. Heck, I'm impressed you pulled it off! Although you didn't make a very smart choice of test subject." He stomped a foot twice.

Something in the nightstand thudded twice. The twins jumped. Bill laughed at them.

Mentally cursing himself for having flinched, Dipper straightened his back and glared at Bill. "You're just mad you got jerked around like a puppet! What's the matter, Bill—you can dish it but you can't take it?" Mabel looked at Dipper like he was crazy.

Bill's indulgent smile cracked, dropping into a snarl of rage. He shifted his weight toward them. Mabel dropped into a judo stance and Dipper sucked in a breath to shout for Stan.

Before anyone could launch a full attack, Mabel took a shaky breath in, forced a nervous smile, and said, "Bill, hey..." (His eyes snapped to her face like a predator that just heard a twig snap.) "This was—just a funny prank, and we're all cool? Right?"

"Mabel," Dipper muttered. "Shhh!"

But Mabel kept looking at Bill. "Right? Buddies?" She held up her arm, showing Bill her friendship bracelet.

Bill stopped and rocked back on his heels. He gave Mabel a long, hard look—like he was seriously considering whether to accept the reality she was inventing. "Yeah. Real funny." Smiling through grit teeth, he said, "You know—it's been a while since I've had my energy strung between two vessels. I didn't even know what that experience felt like for a human! Very interesting. Educational. And it was nice to feel weightless again for a second. Even if the landing was a little rough." He licked the blood off his teeth. One of the teeth shifted. "So—thanks so much for spicing up a boring night. It's been a real blast. Hasn't it." He stared at them like he expected an answer—and possibly like he planned to strangle whoever answered first.

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a look. Dipper shook his head slightly. Mabel looked Bill in the eyes again. "Yeah! Big blast. So, you're not... mad. Right? Nobody's mad!"

Bill stared her down for a moment longer; and then said, "Sure, kid! It's all fun and games!" He forced a laugh—and then another, longer one, hahhh, like he was exhaling all his rage. And just like that, he was back to normal. "I'll admit it—for a second there, you almost got me good! Not bad at all." He held out his hand insistently. "And now the game's over, so you're gonna give me that toy so I can neutralize it. Aren't you?"

Dipper bit his lip, looking past Bill toward the stairs. He could yell for Stan; there was no way Bill could kill them before reinforcements got here—

Mabel elbowed Dipper's side and whispered, "We can't keep it."

And she was right. Now that Bill knew about the doll, he'd be spending all his time plotting how to get past them to take it, and they wouldn't have a second's peace. Either he got it now, or he got it later. Bill wouldn't rest until the doll was out of their hands.

Because he was terrified of it. Why wouldn't he be?

"Yeah," Dipper sighed. "Game over."

"I'll get it." Mabel peeled just enough duct tape off the night stand to wiggle it open a crack and try to squeeze her fingers in. Bill stretched his hand toward Mabel, and the doll stretched an arm out of the drawer. Mabel flinched in surprise, but grabbed the arm and yanked the doll free.

"Ow." Bill grabbed his shoulder and rolled it gingerly. "Careful, kid, are you trying to dislocate my arm? I don't mind popping it back in, but eventually that socket's gonna wear out."

"Sorry! It was a tight squeeze." She held the doll over Dipper's suitcase shield. "Here."

Bill snatched it from her hand. "Thanks a million, star girl." He favored them both with his most nearly-charming, far-too-wide smile. "Good night, kiddos. Have sweet dreams."

"You too," Mabel said weakly.

Bill left. Dipper shut the door. He and Mabel both heaved a sigh of relief.

From the loft over the attic, Bartholomew called, "Is he gone?"

"What are you doing up there?" Mabel asked. "Barty-mew-mew the scaredy-cat."

"I'm not fighting that guy, I'm porcelain and he's crazy."

Dipper flopped on his bed and stared at the ceiling. "Welp. I'm gonna have nightmares about Bill chasing me up the stairs."

Mabel sat on her own bed. "He just wanted to terrify us. And to keep us from seeing we'd terrified him." She fingered the star beads on her friendship bracelet. "He wouldn't have hurt us, I'm sure of it."

"Wh—seriously? You don't think Bill—"

"I know! But he's changed a tiny bit! He'd hurt anyone else, but he won't hurt us," Mabel said. "Or—well, me, at least. But I think he'll leave you alone too if I'm with you!"

Dipper pushed himself up on his elbows to look at her. "If he'd caught us on the stairs, do you really think he wouldn't have tried to tear us apart?"

Mabel considered that; and then reluctantly admitted, "He wouldn't hurt me as long as he remembers he doesn't want to hurt me."

"Yeah, well. I wouldn't count on him remembering when he's mad." Dipper slid under his covers and rolled over. "Barty, can you get the lights?"

"Sure, one second." All the lights and lamps in the room flickered ominously; and then, with a sinister pop, snapped off without being touched.

"Thanks, man."

Mabel didn't climb into bed. She was staring at her fingernails. She'd painted them the same colors as Bill's; but she'd used a black marker to draw spirals on his, and he'd drawn stars and sloppy tiger stripes on hers. In the dark, the colors were all faded.

This time, just once, maybe she and Dipper were the bad guys. He might disagree—he'd actually been puppeted, maybe he saw this differently from Mabel—but that probably didn't make it okay to do it back to Bill just for fun. They should've saved the poppet for an emergency. And the cancan, she decided, was definitely too much.

She smoothed out her covers; then she pulled up her knees to her chest, hugged them, and stared thoughtfully down at Bill's face in the middle of her zodiac blanket.

####

In the dark and quiet of the downstairs bathroom, Bill sat cross-legged on the toilet lid. He held the doll in his cupped hands. Soon, he'd disassemble it—but not yet. Tonight, it was his tool. He shut his eyes and focused on it.

There was the thinnest thread of energy, channeled through his shed hair, connecting this doll to him. He studied the thread, feeling it in his mind, exploring it, strengthening it—until he could almost feel it tugging on him.

And then he started psychically groping for similar connections.

He set the doll on the floor, on top of the drawing Mabel had given him.

His other eyes—the billions of depictions of his face scattered across this planet—weren't meant to be used in this dimension. They were designed like windows he could peer through from the Nightmare Realm; here on Earth, he was on the wrong side of the windows to see through them. And he wouldn't be surprised if the Axolotl had somehow found a way to blindfold them on top of that—after all, he seemed to have done the same to most of Bill's other abilities.

But Bill was resourceful, he was stubborn, and he didn't have anything better to do.

He focused all his energy on trying to feel the drawing the same way he felt the doll, searching for a connection between this body and that face—and he searched, and searched, and searched.

He wasn't sure how long he tried. At least a couple of hours. Straining, straining—for nothing. His head hurt.

What was the difference? The doll was shaped like him, the drawing was shaped like him. What did the doll have that the drawing didn't?

The hair. A bit of his flesh.

Bill knelt over the picture, studying it in the dark. He opened an eye wide, wiped a fingertip across the surface of his eyeball to collect his tears, and pressed it to the drawing's eye.

He could feel a thread of energy stringing from his eye to the paper.

He climbed back on the toilet lid, shut his eyes, and focused on that thread. With an effort that threatened to split his head in two, he pried open his inner eye. And then he was staring up at his own human form from the drawing on the floor.

His body was shaking. His head was throbbing. He wobbled dizzily on the toilet; and as he saw himself topple off, his trance broke, the vision disappeared, and he blacked out. White spots burst behind his eyes.

When he next opened an eye, the room was spinning. He shut his eye. It was several minutes before he could sit up without being sick. He leaned against the wall and let the sweat on his forehead and cheek soak the old wallpaper.

The white spots he'd seen as he passed out were his distant all-seeing eyes.

He'd done something tonight. That was good. But there was no way he was seeing through any other pictures like that. He needed something he could focus his power through, like an antenna.

He needed gold.

####

(Last chapter of the year!! If you enjoyed, I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts & comments! Thanks!)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

177 notes · View notes

miss-nandini · 9 months

Text

HC: Break-up Prank

"Let's break up."

Housewardens

Riddle: Almost spits out his tea. He is horrified at first. But then he is hurt. Of course, you want someone better than him. Who will want a guy like him? He isn't as cunning as Leona, he is not charismatic like Malleus, he isn't handsome like Vil either. He is saddened to think that you— the only person who loves him truly, his rose is leaving him.

When you tell him that it's just a prank he will be so angry. How could you joke about something like that?! Then he will just burst into tears. He is relieved that you aren't actually leaving him. Please give this baby some hugs and never do that again.

Leona: He scoffs. Of course, you want to leave him too. Everybody does in the end. What will keep you then? He is angry, no at you but at himself for not trying harder. Fine, you wanna leave? Then go. Just so you knew you are his treasure. He should've known anyways.

Tell him it's a joke and he will growl. How dare you?! For the whole day you are going to be his pillow, your duties can go to hell.

Azul: Literally bursts into tears. Of course, you don't want to stay with a stupid, ugly octopus like him. You deserve better. He did try but no wonder that wasn't enough. He wants to crawl in his octopot and die. Where did he go wrong?—right, his whole existence is wrong.

When you tell him it's a joke, he will throw himself in your arms and sob louder. Shower him in love for the next week and please refrain from doing that ever again.

Kalim: Heartbroken. Another one who is going to sob. Please don't leave him! He will do anything you want! You are gonna regret this prank (Y/N). Jamil is ready to throw hands.

Immediately tell him you are not serious and assure him that you love him. You aren't planning to leave him. Give him lots of hugs and kisses please.

Vil: He sighs. He just kinda accepts his fate inside. Outside, He will still scowl. Oh, you will realize soon that you made a mistake. No one can take care of you the way he does. No one can put up with your antics. Nobody else can love you the way he does... Why? Is he really not enough for you?

Tell him it's a joke and get scolded. He will surely scold you a bit for joking about a serious thing like that but, don't let his appearance fool you. He is relieved that you aren't going to leave him.

Idia: I mean, do I even have to say? He wants to crawl in a hole. Why can't the ground shallow him up? Obviously you want to leave him. Who will want a gross, pathetic, shut-in, coward, ugly good for nothing otaku—

Well, you get the point.

When you tell him it's a joke he will be angry for a bit and sulk. But he can't really be mad at you, ya know. After an hour or two he will start badgering you for attention. Please don't do that again!

Malleus: You would've sworn you heard thunder crackling. The dragon-fae prince looks at you like a kicked puppy. He is so hurt and sad. Why? What did he do wrong? Did he hurt you? He is ready to do whatever you want. He doesn't want to lose you!

Please tell him it's a joke. He will pout and look away from you. How can you be so cruel to him? Your adorable dragon is going to be huffy and puffy for awhile. However, give him some love and he will be a happy dragon again. Please never do that again child of man!

Thank you for reading!

313 notes · View notes

edenmemes · 2 years

Text

arcane starters

❝ i’m going. are you coming with me or not? ❞ ❝ you see this look on my face? this will always mean it’s time to shut up. ❞ ❝ you gonna get that door open any time soon? ❞ ❝ yeah, well, can’t escape the past. right? ❞ ❝ nothing feels impossible when i’m with you. ❞ ❝ if you want to last in this world, you must learn to be both a fox and a wolf. ❞ ❝ despite it all...i can tell you have a good heart. ❞ ❝ there’s quite a lot about me you don’t know. ❞ ❝ what matters is that we’re together. ❞ ❝ i will give you the world, if you prove you can take it. ❞ ❝ you don’t seem to grasp how serious this is. ❞ ❝ i’ve seen this power in the wrong hands. it corrupts, consumes, lays waste to civilizations. ❞ ❝ when did you get so comfortable living in someone else’s shadow? ❞ ❝ my back is to the world that was smiling when i turned. ❞ ❝ real power doesn’t come to those who were born strongest, or fastest, or smartest. it comes to those who will do anything to achieve it. ❞ ❝ we can’t change what fate has in store for us, but we don’t have to face it alone. ❞ ❝ we’ve all had bad days. but we learn. and we stick together. ❞ ❝ you carry your chin so high, you fail to see the opportunity below. ❞ ❝ oh, the misery. everybody wants to be my enemy. ❞ ❝ listen, i’m sorry for disappearing last night. ❞ ❝ i never thought i’d see you again. ❞ ❝ you weren’t always the peacekeeper, were you? ❞ ❝ when people look up to you, you don’t get to be selfish. ❞ ❝ we are definitely not supposed to be here. ❞ ❝ i couldn’t have done it without you. ❞ ❝ you mistake arrogance for bravery. ❞ ❝ you’re gonna have to lay low for a bit, understand? ❞ ❝ what was that? what the hell happened back there? ❞ ❝ we’re almost there. ❞ ❝ i know you have your reservations about me, but this only works if we can trust each other. ❞ ❝ i expect better from you than excuses. ❞ ❝ go crawl back into whatever hole you came out of. ❞ ❝ there’s this thing...in your head, and it’s raging. ❞ ❝ everyone makes mistakes, right? what’s important is that we don’t repeat them. ❞ ❝ there’s a monster inside all of us. ❞ ❝ you have to believe me. i didn’t do this. ❞ ❝ a little danger is worth the risk, don’t you think? ❞ ❝ tell me your nightmares and fantasies. ❞ ❝ all i see is a boy meddling with things he doesn’t understand. ❞ ❝ one day...this city’s gonna respect us. ❞ ❝ i ruined everything. i always do. ❞ ❝ i feel like you and i get off on the wrong arm. ❞ ❝ i can hear the sound of our hearts beat. ❞ ❝ take a breath. you can do this. ❞ ❝ you don’t know war. i do. ❞ ❝ there must be something else we can do. some other way. we’ll make a new plan. ❞ ❝ you got a good heart. don’t ever lose it, no matter how the world tries to break you. ❞ ❝ nobody wins in war. ❞ ❝ i think it’s time to say goodbye. ❞ ❝ what makes you different makes you strong. always remember that. ❞ ❝ is that why you came? to insult me? ❞ ❝ this question lingers before you: have you had enough? ❞ ❝ magic is far too dangerous in the wrong hands. ❞ ❝ i pray our love will always stay. ❞ ❝ how did you get in? there’s guards everywhere. ❞ ❝ i’m just...not that man anymore. ❞ ❝ the only way to defeat a superior enemy is to stop at nothing. to become what they fear. ❞ ❝ i trusted you. and you betrayed me. ❞ ❝ i want to fight. i can help. ❞ ❝ you did what you had to do to survive. ❞ ❝ i need to know that i can rely on you. ❞ ❝ you’ll get people killed. for what? pride? ❞ ❝ i’m proud of you. always have been. ❞ ❝ your problem is never knowing when to shut up. ❞ ❝ you’re the one who always says we have to earn our place in this world. ❞ ❝ did you even stop to think about what could have happened to you? ❞ ❝ i suppose that concludes our business, then. ❞ ❝ when you’re going to change the world, don’t ask for permission. ❞ ❝ we’re not gonna be caught. we’ll be in and out before anyone notices. ❞ ❝ if you’re done beating yourself up, let’s go home. ❞ ❝ listen, i don’t want any trouble, okay? ❞ ❝ stop talking to me like i’m a child. ❞ ❝ i thought we could walk together. ❞ ❝ in what mad world would i trust someone like you? ❞ ❝ you’re all i have left. i can’t lose you. ❞ ❝ fear haunts us all. ❞ ❝ you know what your problem is? you expect everyone to give you what you want. ❞ ❝ i just...i just want her to be safe. ❞ ❝ we’ve accomplished a lot together. and there is more yet to achieve. ❞ ❝ you never did know when to walk away. ❞ ❝ that pain that makes it feel like it’ll eat you from the inside out, can either break you or forge you into something greater. ❞ ❝ it’s a sad truth that those who burn brightest often burn fastest. ❞ ❝ we’re almost there. ❞ ❝ sometimes death is a mercy. ❞ ❝ do you ever say ‘thank you’? ❞ ❝ loneliness is often the byproduct of a gifted mind. ❞ ❝ you’re praying for my fall. ❞ ❝ every time i think you can’t get dumber, you dig a new low. ❞ ❝ i don’t even know your name. ❞ ❝ no monster’s gonna get you when i’m here. ❞ ❝ that place looks like it has bodies in the basement. ❞ ❝ you failed. don’t disappoint me again. ❞ ❝ i know it sounds impossible, but when have we ever let that stop us? ❞ ❝ why? why would you risk this? ❞ ❝ take your place at my side. it’s where you belong. ❞ ❝ get ahold of yourself. i taught you better than that. ❞ ❝ you’re just a little man in a little hole the world forgot to bury. ❞ ❝ if dangerous ideas didn’t excite the imagination, we would never wander astray. ❞ ❝ it’s all right. at least you’re okay. ❞ ❝ i wish i could say it gets easier, but i’d be lying. ❞ ❝ today’s screw-up will set us back weeks. ❞ ❝ don’t be so concerned. i’m about to make your day. ❞ ❝ you’re stronger than you think. ❞ ❝ i’ve seen your face around here. ❞ ❝ in the pursuit of greatness, we failed to do good. ❞ ❝ i would set the world ablaze to protect our family. ❞ ❝ i have to get home. it isn’t safe for me here. ❞

#rp meme #roleplay meme #roleplay starters

1K notes · View notes

sadvid · 28 days

Text

camp camp makes me insane ramble. do not click more unless you are so so very insane

camp camp is gonna make me go fucking insane i can't fucking do this anymore there is NOTHING!!!!!! NOTHING!!!! ALL THEY DID WAS GIVE US TINY PISS DRRROPLETS WITH ONE EPISODE FINALE SAYING MAXS PARENTS DONT CARE AND DAVID SAYING YOU DONT DESERVE THAT AND NOW IVE BEEN IN THE TRENCHES FOR YEAAAARSSS. i have read fics with over 100k words i have drawn so many things and imagined so many scenarios with angst and hurt/comfort and stupid stupid thoughts that would never ever happen in the show in a million years HIS ASS IS NOT GETTING ADOPTED DADVID IS NOT REAL GWENVID IS A SICK JOKE i love them so much you don't understand. i forgot to take my meds. oh my goddddd. THERE ARE LIKE THREE CAMP CAMP FANS LEFT BECAUSE THE REST WERE NORMAL PEOPLE WHO JUST WATCH THE SILLY CAMP CARTOON THAT SAYS FUCK. they dont wonder about the possibilities of a sad ten year old rejecting happiness but slowly allowing himself to be vulnerable and loved by a counselor who is surrounded by hate and despondency but stays positive despite despite despite because nobody else will and he wants to be the source of happiness that he wish someone was for him. NO! they say HAHA the ten year old said fuck! oh my god the non swearing counselor said fuck too that's so profound! oh no the ten year olds parents bad :( HAHA NOW HES BALD!!!! and after a month of the show being gone they LEAVE because they're NORNAL!!!!! but i. I AM IN THE TRENCHESSSSS. you have no idea you have no idea. listen maybe i'm just a little insane because i am a max who needs a david JUST MAYBE! and i think this is just a lot of me projecting my desperate need for love and my simultaneous rejection and fear of it onto max. And my need for someone to keep persistently and loudly loving me no matter how much i reject it. PROBABLY!!!!! i don't care i don't care how fucking insane i sound I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY I COULD talk about this show for hours i wish i didn't have job or school or life so i could write and anímate camp camp season 6 7 8 9 10 infinity and kill the warner brothers and write 500k word ao3 fics. IM INSANE. i am picking up crumbs and calling it a wedding cake do you understand. god i'm i i i i i i i i it's 2024 it's been too long too many years of this.... too many got damned years. every time i pick up a pencil i draw max camp camp. i have drawn david's stupid fucking face so many times its probably become the shape of my brain wrinkles. i go feral thinking about gwen's hair looks like down or what the fuck these characters last names are. Can you fucking believe i hyper fixated on a character whose last name i dont even know. hey who's that small angry fucker you're always doodling. uhh max. max who. max... camp camp. WHO?!!! DAVID?!!? DAVID ATTENBOROUGH?!?! MAX CAULFIELD?! i'm going to set myself on fire. i really truly am. i love them i live for nothing but a ghost child on an island and a silly friend trio. when will it end. when. i love them if you couldn't tell

#camp camp

28 notes · View notes

dmercer91 · 9 months

Note

just re read your trevor fic-

auntie el you say??

i say protective aunt ellen who has to step inbetween reader and her mom during another fight-

and she tells reader’s mom to leave

and trevor is just holding her while she cries

and the minute her mom is gone she goes running into ellen’s arms because she’s never had an adult stand up for her like that

auntie el is a hero and i love her

y/n is her honorary child and nobody!! will be speaking to her in any unkind way

also- i’m torn between having owen apologize for following in his moms footsteps and being an asshole to y/n or him just being completely silent around her for the rest of ever

cause he was young and it wasn’t his fault and maybe he’s not actually a prick?? or maybe he is actually a prick and keeps believing lies?? help

same old same old | look after you au, tz11

“you’re not going to that party, y/n!” your mother yelled, following you through the house and stomping dramatically

it’d been a year since you’d finally cut her out, and clearly it hadn’t helped her hatred towards you. ellen had warned you she’d be here this weekend- since her parents were up to see the boys and she didn’t want to leave her sister out.

“i don’t remember that being your choice,” you mumbled, opening up the fridge and grabbing a water, turning and leaning against it while she seethed.

“you’ve ruined enough of the last year for your broth- for owen. i’m not letting you spoil tonight too,” you rolled your eyes and eyed trevor as he walked into the kitchen from the commotion.

he immediately turned around on a search for ellen, walking as fast as he could without it being running

“he knows i’m coming, he doesn’t care. i don’t know why you care so much,” you were trying your best to stay calm despite the panic brewing in your stomach

you didn’t want to fight, you didn’t have the energy to fight- you thought you’d seen the last of these scream matches last summer.

ellen walked into the kitchen with trevor quick behind her just in time to hear your mom start to yell again.

“god, you’re still such a brat! you can’t just stay home this one night so you don’t embarrass someone who’s meant to be your family? oh wait- you abandoned us because you couldn’t handle having rules!” she was frantic, pointing at you and her face red with anger

“i know you think you’re hot shit with your dumb as a doornail boyfriend and your new spoiled life, but you’re not. you’re still annoying, and you still don’t do anything for anyone and you’re still the same selfish kid i wished i’d never had.”

you opened your mouth to speak and you couldn’t will anything to come out. you just shook your head to yourself- hardly present in the conversation

“hey!” ellen grabbed the both of your attention and you gulped, trying to keep the tears back until you could make your exit

“if i’m not allowed to punish your kids, you can’t punish mine. if you ever talk to her like that again, then i’ll have owen down here for the fourth and you can just stay home. hell, henry can come if he wants. but you? stay the hell away from my daughter,”

ellen had blocked you with herself, your heart rate slowing down form your panic now that you didn’t have to come to your own defence.

“why don’t you go out on the boat with trevor, honey. i’m gonna have a talk with sylvia,” you only nodded, going over to trevor and sticking to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and tucking your head into his neck

“come on, let’s go outside, yeah?” he mumbled, cupping the back of your head and kissing your forehead before grabbing your hand and walking towards the patio door

you spend a while in the middle of the lake- boat off and anchored while you and trevor just held each other and you quietly cried

eventually- when you’d run out of tears, you’d decided you needed to get home so you could get ready for the party that night, and so did trevor

when you got back, sylvia’s car was gone but owen’s frat shoes were still at the door, and ellen was sat on the couch with a glass of wine

you pulled yourself from trevor and kneeled on the couch next to her, hugging onto her as soon as she put her glass down

“thank you.” you whispered, her hand moving to rub your back softly

“always, honey,”

#look after you au !#e’s 500 celly!#e’s blurbs!#trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #anaheim ducks

137 notes · View notes

miracles-and-butterflies · 1 month

Text

Saving a miracle is a lot and comes at a hefty price. Good thing nobody warned Mirabel ahead of time, wouldn’t want her to be able to consider what she’s doing before making rash decisions.

Vaguely inspired by @yellowcry’s Cursed Gifts AU.

Sequel to And I’m Asking “Why, Lord?”

Warning for sensitive topics below.

Time Eats All His Children in the End

Mirabel blinks, slowly coming back to it all. She’s lying on the floor of Antonio’s room, surrounded by grains of sand and burnt leaves. There is no sign of Bruno. Distantly, she can still hear the animals and Antonio playing nearby, splashing in the water. She manages to push herself up, sitting, having to balance herself with her hands.

What happened?

There is no obvious sign that anything has changed. No magic in her veins, no power at her command. Some small, naive part of her thinks it wasn’t real.

Then, her eyes drop down to herself and her stomach churns in disgust and horror. Her dress is completely shredded, hanging loose and in tatters. Her glasses have been knocked to who knows where, she can’t see them. It’s cold. She feels like a pinned butterfly, having its wings removed and its insides pulled apart. She’s on display. For something, someone not human. He has done something to her, taken something or changed something, and she has no idea what.

“Mirabel! You’re awake!” Antonio calls. She turns to find Parce pounding up towards her, the little boy riding on his back. His smile drops as he catches her. “Tío Bruno said to check on you that when you wake up… Mirabel, are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine, Antonio,” she reassures him. As scared as she is, she doesn’t want to have him feel the same. But God, her voice is rough.

He clocks his head in confusion at her. After a moment, he shares a glance with the capybara that still hasn’t moved and nods in confirmation. “You don’t look okay and Chipsi agrees.”

“I… to be honest, I wasn’t quite prepared for the vision.” She lied. Well, partially.

Antonio, too young and oblivious, takes that as the gospel truth. “Oh, okay! We never really get to talk about Bruno and I had no idea what having a vision was like! So, what was it like? What did you see? Did you see the future? Was I all grown up? Was I taller than Camilo?”

“I’m sorry, but you know we weren’t looking at your future, primito. And I can assure you, I didn’t see anything you want to see.”

“Okay,” he huffed, sounding disappointed. “Next time Tío Bruno visits, I’m gonna ask him to give me a vision. Do you want to come and play with me and my friends?”

She shakes her head, gently. “No, thank you, Antonio. I have some embroidery to finish.”

Once she’s out of Antonio’s room and with the door safely closed behind her, she doesn’t have to act like she’s fine. She feels horrible about it, but she had to lie Antonio. This is nothing for a child to know, to be part of it, but she is a child and nobody thought to spare her…

It’s too much.

She stops, catching her reflection in the photographs of the ceremonies. Everyone minus her. That hasn’t changed then. Briefly, she considers taking Bruno’s off the wall and throwing it away. But, she doesn’t. She keeps walking. At least, she takes a few more steps before collapsing to her knees. Wincing at the sting of impact against her hands as she catches herself.

Casita flickers its tiles beside her, asking if she’s alright. The answer is blatantly obvious.

She feels horrible and betrayed and used and broken and worthless and—

She wraps her arms around herself, trying to calm herself down. It’s all too much. She can’t just bottle this up as she does with everything else.

Digging her nails into her skin, she scratches. Deep. Drawing blood. She doesn’t care, she screams through it like a dying animal. She wants to tear it all off. She wants to let herself bleed to death because at least then she won’t ever know what he’s done to her. The family will still be safe, the miracle will still survive. No one will care if she doesn’t. And maybe that is what hurts the most: the reality that no one would care what has happened to her. That’s why it did happen.

From her knees, she drops to her side. Curled into a ball and facing the plain, empty wall. Blocking out whatever Casita is trying to say to her. It is only a house. If it had never cracked in the first place, if it had never made her run to get help. She never asked for this, she never wanted this. She prays for it all to go away.

Eventually, her voice cracks. Her screams break off into sobbing, wretched and pitiful.

She can’t breathe through it. She tries, quick and frantic and mad, but she isn’t getting air. It slips through her lips, just as her door slipped from her all those years ago. Just as the last shred of her hope has slipped through her fingers into a dead man’s hand. She wants to rip apart her body and clean it, cleanse it in holy water. Clear away the damage and stains of a curse she doesn’t understand.

Pedro has taken something from her, and she will never be the same again.

Taken something. Stolen everything. And she had let it happen. She had trusted Bruno and then trusted him. And poor pathetic, little Mirabel couldn’t even save herself. She had asked for a blessing, now one has cut a place inside of her, buried into her like a parasite. Eating her out from the inside and will leave her a rotting corpse for the worms must be fed.

#encanto #my writing #mirabel madrigal #antonio madrigal #pedro madrigal #encanto au

22 notes · View notes

stygianoaths · 2 years

Text

Imagine Jason approaching Nico to confess he's choosing rebirth over Elysium.

The reason why is because he never felt like the life he lived was ever his (y'know, what with being taken from his family and being raised as the champion of a god and child soldier) and so he wants a do-over. He wants a normal life, where he doesn't have to be a pawn in someone's chess game.

Meanwhile, as he is explaining this, Nico is trying to ignore just how eerily similar it feels to Bianca's situation, because what life did she live beyond taking care of him? Her life was never hers either. Still, he offers, against the screaming in his head, to see Jason through the rebirth process. The lost hero accepts. After all, not many can say they had the Ghost King personally send them off into the waking world.

"I'm gonna miss you," Jason says. Nico laughs, but there's no happiness behind it. They're behind the River Lethe now.

"No you won't," he murmurs, knowing the river's power firsthand, "but I will."

When Jason forgets and his soul is taken to a place no mortal can't follow, Nico fades into the shadows and wills himself to reappear before a small camp. He doesn't flinch when the hunters of Artemis point their arrows at him reflexively. It only takes a couple of seconds before the bows slowly lower once the girls recognize him.

Bianca's little brother.

Thalia tells them to stand down, walking forward and looking at him with electric blue eyes that are both distant yet knowing. They remind him of Jason's, though his were not as harsh or striking. They used to be gentle. comforting.

He will never see those eyes again.

"He chose rebirth," Nico chokes out, "Thalia, he's, he's gone."

And suddenly he's ten years old again, betrayed and grieving. Thalia catches him as he collapses to his knees, and he cries in her arms, inconsolable.

Why him?

Why her?

He doesn't know who he is referring to anymore.

Artemis ushers the other girls away with a neutral face, but she too is shaken by the sight of the demigods. The grief of her lieutenant and the son of Hades remind her of the fear that seized her when her brother was exiled, of what could have been when he was turned human. When the cries from the children of the Big Three reach her own tent, Artemis swears on the River Styx that she will never allow herself and Apollo to come close to such a fate ever again.

They are a tragic sight to behold, Nico di Angelo and Thalia Grace — a younger brother and older sister that don't belong to one another, yet holding onto each other like they do. As the daughter of Zeus's tears seap into his jacket, Nico briefly wonders that if Thalia is all he has left, then maybe it would be nice if Jason and Bianca had each other. As friends, perhaps. Siblings, even.

If the Fates had been listening in when he thought that, there was nobody present with them to know.

#tl;dr thalia is nico's third honorary sister it just takes jason dying for them to get closer #i'm an older sister with a younger brother #and so it is my god given duty to project onto every older sister with a younger brother in this series #hoo #heroes of olympus #toa #trials of apollo #jason grace #thalia grace #nico di angelo #bianca di angelo #artemis #apollo #death mention

355 notes · View notes

uselessheretic · 1 year

Text

When it comes to Ed and addressing his issues around things like mental health, trauma, and anger issues, I understand the kneejerk reaction to deny that he has any of those traits due to not wanting to stereotype him, but I don't think that really solves much. Ed is someone who is severely traumatized, forced into a world where he had to take care of himself from a young age, and never given a chance to learn things like healthy coping mechanisms. He's going to develop in ways that are maladaptive as he searches for a way to just survive.

A lot of the time, people will say things like "Ed doesn't have anger issues because whenever he gets mad he's valid" and I get it, I do, but it just? Doesn't work that way? When a room full of people makes fun of you, you can't just go in there and shoot everyone even if they hurt your feelings. Not just because that's a wild ass thing to argue as correct, but because it directly endangers himself and others. Even if he's fucking Blackbeard, that's still a huge risk of him being harmed. Characters like Oluwande and Frenchie would also be at risk where maybe people can't stab Blackbeard, but it's possible someone might take a chance on one of his companions if they think they're a part of this.

Denying that these problems exist doesn't do anything. It doesn't strengthen his character and it doesn't engage with him in a way that humanizes him to allow for growth. He's not gonna marry Stede and suddenly never be angry again and nobody ever makes him feel sad ever again!

I understand that the thought process here is that men of color are stereotyped to be angry and violent, and therefore, it's racist to interpret Ed as having these traits. That doesn't really solve anything though because it doesn't engage with the problem past a surface level. Moc are stereotyped as being angry... Why? Because it's a way to justify enacting state violence and control them. Sure, you can say "Ed isn't angry though so there's no need to put him through the system" but that narrows the scope down to him as an individual that relies on him never being angry to rescue him from that.

Because what happens when moc are angry? When they are violent and you're not able to just deny that and move on? Do we just abandon them?

Obviously not. When we base a person's humanity off a prerequisite that they can't embody any of the negativity the state is seeking to control, we inadvertently justify the violence imposed onto those less able to hold themselves to, frankly, impossible standards. It's another way of trying to appeal to respectability politics.

So instead of denying these parts of Ed, we can look more closely at them.

Ed's moments of anger are often prompted by him experiencing hurt. He's made fun of, he's been tricked, a snake fell on him, he feels abandoned. He has a tendency to go from zero to one hundred very quickly, and often will react to things with the same level of intensity regardless of what is actually triggering it. This makes sense though when you remember that he's a severely traumatized person who went through substantial abuse as a child! Often, people experiencing things like c-PTSD lose their ability to accurately gauge threat levels, meaning that if they want to survive, they are on constant high alert for any possible danger. Anger is a natural reaction to this, and his trigger for going off is hypersensitive as a result. Something like this helps explain why Stede leaving him, and Izzy subsequent antagonism, hit him like a fucking truck.

When Ed expresses anger, it often comes coupled with reminders of his trauma and greatest insecurities. Making fun of him for growing up in poverty, saying he can't have friends, poking at his breakup and fear of abandonment. He has direct flashbacks to his childhood with some of these, becoming forced to relieve times when he was at his most powerless. This lack of power pushes him to try and regain that control. He's not poor! He has more riches than you can shake a stick at! You can't make fun of him for how he eats, do you have any idea who he is? He's fucking Blackbeard! Choose your next works carefully, dog, and decide if you want to bring up Stede anymore.

It's instinct. As much as jerking your hand away from a burning iron. He's being hurt, he needs to make it stop.

But it doesn't work. Not only does it not work, Ed knows it too. He may have more riches, but the French captain will still view him as something vulgar. He's fucking Blackbeard, but what does it matter if the party will continue laughing at him? "There he is..." The Blackbeard who Stede abandoned, the same as always.

In a world of cartoon violence, there's little care Ed needs to afford towards the lives he takes. That's not the problem. The problem is that the harder he tries to maintain control, the more he loses it. And the less control he has, the angrier he becomes. And the angrier he is, the more desperate he becomes to keep himself safe.

Ed is playing a game rigged against him from the start. He exists in a system meant to antagonize and hurt him while surrounded by vultures waiting for him to prove them right that he does lack discipline where no matter what action he takes he loses. How could he be anything other than furious about it?

His anger is a perfectly logical reaction to his situation, and there's no point in denying that it exists like it's something shameful. Ed needs tools to help him cope with this, a support system that has his back, and an environment that nourishes him instead of constantly putting him at risk of dying.

#ofmd meta #edward teach #ofmd

323 notes · View notes

memestockpile · 3 months

Text

42nd street from the 1933 film. feel free to change as needed.

i'd like to do something for you.

you're not a machine!

you haven't got anything to worry about.

i'm not gonna let you down.

what i say, goes.

darling, you're just too sweet, the way you keep spoiling me.

you looking for somebody, or just shopping around?

maybe i'm wrong about the whole thing.

come out from behind there.

come on, kid, make it snappy.

things can never be the same now.

you're doing fine for a beginner.

i walked around the block four times before i had the courage to even come in.

it's tough, but you'll get along.

you've got the busiest hands.

that'll be enough of that.

my, but we're grouchy, aren't we?

i'm beginning to feel like a criminal.

he looks like a bulgarian boll weevil mourning its first-born.

nobody could be as dumb as all that.

hey, pipe down!

let's quit kidding ourselves.

i'll take you home.

i owe everything i am to you.

you're talking like a child.

you're getting to be a habit with me.

i must have you every day, as regularly as coffee or tea.

you all right, kid?

you feel better, honey?

a little fresh air and conversation would do you good.

i've got a lot of nice ideas. what i need are ears to spill them in.

what do you advise for a man who's both hungry and lonesome?

you go right to sleep, youngster. what you need is a good night's rest.

you're not going to get serious on me, are you?

sit down, dear. i want to talk to you.

we've grown too necessary to one another.

darling, you're capable of such great things.

we're not going to see each other for a long time.

i can't imagine going on without you.

go on out and have a good time.

for the first time, i'm counting on someone else.

come on home with me, will you? i'm lonesome.

i'd like to, but i can't.

i'm practically hysterical right now.

let's dance.

let me alone.

wisecracks, i'm sick of them!

i ain't a sucker for anybody.

all right, dear. i'll be right over.

i just don't like to be pawed, that's all.

you were peeking through the keyhole.

there, there, now.

a broken ankle, huh? too bad it wasn't her neck.

there must be a way out of this.

come on, you.

they didn't tell me you were here.

you can't, but you will.

only an hour before the curtain.

i brought some coffee.

i'm so excited. i think maybe i'm dreaming.

i wanted to tell you, ever since i first saw you, how i feel about you.

i guess maybe i can read between the lines, but i wanna hear you say some more.

always remember that, kid.

you look adorable.

go out there and be so swell that you'll make me hate you.

give me a big smile.

you listen to me, and you listen hard.

keep your feet on the ground, your head on your shoulders.

i'm going to take you for a ride.

it would really be a sin not to have you in my arms.

if you've got a little time to spare, i'd like to take you there.

where the underworld can meet the elite.

some guys get all the breaks.

12 notes · View notes

mister-eames · 9 months

Note

1/? If you wrote a thesis on Arthur and Eames I would literally carry it around in my pocket & read it daily, so I’m begging you!! Please don’t spare your 5k essay on why you think Arthur thinks he doesn’t have a chance with Eames!! I Wanna know your thoughts on this!! Because I think it’s a combination of elements. Firstly I think initially Arthur truly believes Eames doesn’t like him. They’re too different. Arthur is everything Eames isn’t & vice versa. & even tho the saying goes “opposites

2/? attract”.. sometimes you just clash & that’s that.. I think at first he also mistakes Eames playfulness, his snark, quips & attempts at riling Arthur up as genuine condescension & disdain. I also read once in a fic where Arthur made a comment about how nobody likes the pointman cos at the end of the day it’s his job to pick apart everybody else’s work & point out the weaknesses. So the idea that a guy like Eames, who as a forger has one of the most creative/artistic roles in dreamshare. --- 3/3 would be interested in a guy whose role often involves probably telling people to tone it down... yeah. Not gonna happen. & then I think there’s that fear of mixing business with pleasure. The idea of ruining such a great working partnership by bringing something as messy as FEELINGS into it? I think that’s something that would make Arthur not even entertain the idea of ever having anything more with Eames because how could he ever risk losing Eames as a work partner?

---

Aha, are you ready? Obvs these are all just my headcanons, and that the beauty of inception is that the characters can be who we want them to be, all interpretations are valid, etc etc...

So, with Arthur and why I think he thinks doesn't have a chance with Eames. You're right that it's a combination of elements:

I think, at his core, Arthur like, all of us, carries some kind of emotional bruising when it comes to loving and being loved. And like, all of us, Arthur does not think he's perfect. He has self-perceived flaws. Every single one of us, as human beings, has insecurities - even Arthur. I think he uses all of the surface, logical, 'rational' arguments like not wanting to mix business and pleasure to justify not actually addressing these hurts and insecurities.

You know my personal headcanon for Arthur, generally speaking canonically, is that he did not come from money. He grew up poor with a parent that wasn't, say, well enough to be there for him the way a child would need. That he was the caretaker in the household most of the time.

And, bear with me here, on Arthur caring about his looks - Arthur is buttoned up to all hell not because of vanity, but because of how he will be perceived--- he wears his suits less like armour and more like a weapon. Arthur, to me, is scrappy, not defensive.

But despite how he presents himself, deep down Arthur still is that fourteen year old version of himself, the one that lashed out everyone Eventually, he learned to control that anger, the one that showed everyone else where he was wounded -- but he never addressed the ways he was hurt, or the parts of him that has always been deeply lonely. As an adult he isn't keen on loving anyone else because it's always been a one-way transaction. He does not know how to interpret loving someone and being loved in return. For him, what does that even look like? Arthur doesn't want to love anyone because he's never received the same output of love he gives out. And maybe he thinks something is wrong with him, for feeling affection the way he does and never truly getting it back in kind - platonic, familial or romantic.

So he wears his weaponry to keep people from getting too close to touch, figuratively speaking. And maybe Eames takes him on face value for a beat too long.

While I don't really consider Arthur and Eames to be opposites, I do think they are flip sides of the same coin. They share a basic foundation, beliefs, ethics - but can also clash where they combine. It's like when you just... get someone on a basic level, like you share a frequency without needing years of getting to know them. Like when you meet someone and you just know you must have known each other in a past life. Arthur thinks that this weird, antagonistic thing he has with Eames is something different, isn't it? Except, it isn't. It's just love, baby.

Arthur feels it, with Eames. That 'something'. Over time it develops into a feeling that is both thrum and quiet. Like his whole body is vibrating but also completely still just by being near him, thinking about him.

But, at least initially, Arthur is just too... wary to place his money on it, that feeling. It's never provided dividends before.

Which isn't to say that Eames is the one to show Arthur he is 'worth loving', or anything like that. I believe that Arthur comes to that realisation all by himself - realistically, they're both still young and young enough to be insecure at the time of the film. Late 20's, 30s? Babies, in the grand scheme of adulthood. They are only just consolidating out who they are, really. But Arthur, at some point, realizes its okay to put his sword down and be loved in a different way from those who'd said they'd loved him before. To have someone take care of him, to run point for him. He gets better at reading love languages.

And I think, to address Arthurs own insecurities -- we all also have that kind of rose-tinted view of the ones we love while thinking we are plain and unremarkable - we look at them and go fuck, you are amazing, you are incredible, you can do anything and you don't even know it, how do you not know how powerful you are?? --- that's part of it too. Maybe he looks at Eames, Cobb and Mal and thinks just that. Maybe he wonders in what world would Eames ever look at him the same way? Maybe he does underestimate his own power and he takes it all too seriously and to heart when he's not perfect. Maybe he can't look past his own fuck ups in life and in work that it truly clouds his perception of himself and his compatibility with others.

That, I think, are the basic fears Arthur has. It's like inception, right, these 'simplest version of ideas' manifest in more convoluted ones. Those fears get translated and articulated into very simple 'reasonable' arguments he hoodwinks himself with so he never has to face his own vulnerability: it would never work out. I don't like the way he does x, y, z. He is so annoying. He doesn't even like me like that. It'd be bad for business. It's not worth the risk. We're here to work.

So I think Arthur leaves his attraction to Eames like a mailbox slowly accumulating with more and more junk mail. He'll clean it out some day, pushed aside in his own mind, left unattended by him for a long time without realizing the pile is growing. On this, some of my fave fics are the ones where Arthur has this sort of... comically misbehaving subconscious because of his ignored affection for Eames. The ones where there are errant projections who fawn over Eames, or the ones where his subconscious is literally incapable of hurting him. I think Arthur is not.. repressed... as an individual, but the feelings he has for Eames are so large and encompassing and that he's tried to fit it into too small of a box, and that box is spilling out at the sides. What he feels cannot be contained or disposed of. He would be that kind of hot mess.

But, Arthur, you darling fool. The feeling is mutual.

#10000% pure self indulgence #like actually #but i don't even care #thank you so much nonnie for letting me indulge so much on Arthur and maybe go overboard on him idk cant stop wont stop it makes me happy #there's something just so remarkably human in these two #these blink-and-you'll-miss moments of vulnerability in the film #my brain can't stop latching onto reasons why arthur is a fucking disaster sweetheart of a human bean #anyway #love these two idiots forever!#arthur x eames #dreamhusbands #inception

31 notes · View notes

claire-elvisgirl · 10 months

Text

A growing Lily - pt. 1

Here we aaaare!!! Part 1 is finally ready...I hope you like it. Daddy is ready to show his love...chapter 1 is cute and soft, but the others 2 will be particularly detailed and full of love, sex and all the stuff we like so much! Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word count:2012

Summary: You’re divorced. Elvis takes you and you little daughter to live with him.

Warnings: Nothing particular in chapter 1

Your marriage wasn’t meant to be a happy one. You knew it the moment you find out you were pregnant. Your husband didn't take the thing too well and left you. You didn't want to give up on your baby, so you kept on with your pregnancy alone. You were young and inexperienced, but you managed it very well and had a beautiful girl named Lily.

She was your only joy. One sunny afternoon she asked you to take her to the park to play. You didn't feel so good, but she insisted and you decided to take her out. A nice breath of fresh air would have helped you too.

You sat on a bench and she flew off to play. While you were watching her, a young man appeared and approached you. He had incredible blue eyes and dark blond hair. “Hi miss!” he said with a soft voice. You looked up: “Hello!”. “May I sit down?” he asked gently. “Of course!” you answered. He sat next to you and started to talk. You ignored him. “I’m Elvis, by the way. You got a name, li'l gal?”

“Y/n!” you replied without looking at him. “Y/n? Why, that's a real pretty name. Where you from? I ain't seen you aroun' here before.”

You heard him keep on asking things about you. The thing bothered you, but at the same time you found him interesting. “I’m in town since a month!”

He looked at you surprised: “You’ve been here for a month, and I ain't seen you 'til now? Man, I must be blind! I never met a gal as pretty as ya before.”

You coughed. Then Lily ran to you. "Mommy can we play now?".

Elvis was shocked and enchanted at the same time: “Why, what is this? We got ourselves a momma's little girl here?” He kneeled down in front of Lily and started to make funny faces. “Who's this little princess?”

You smiled: “This is Lily, my daughter”. He turned to her. “Well, hellooo Lily! Ya look just like your momma!” He winked at you. Lily giggled. "Who's he mama?"

Elvis pinched her cheek: “I’m a good friend of mommy, Lily. My name is Elvis! Can you say it?”. She smiled and repeated: “Eylvis?!:” He laughed and you smiled as Lily ran away to play. “Boy she’s the cutest thing I've ever seen!” he said. “You and your husband should be very proud!”.

“Well, in fact I am!”. Elvis noticed something bothered you. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

“I’m…I’m not married! I was!”

He tried to understand. “Was, huh? So you ain't married anymore?” He looked at you sadly.

You shook your head and looked up: “Well...he left me while I was pregnant of Lily!”

He turned agry: “He...what??? Now that were just plain awful. Now, a gal like you shouldn't be all alone. Ain't ya got nobody here for ya?”

You hated pity and compassion from others. “Oh don't worry, I can manage everything pretty well!”. He put a hand on your shoulder causing you to shiver inside. “Ya really think ya can raise a child all by yourself? A child needs a man, sugar, someone to protect 'em!”. He was getting more involved as time passed. You looked down. “I can't force him to stay with me if he doesn't want to!”. Elvis grabbed your hand and looked deeply into your eyes. “I wasn’t talking about him!!”

You looked at him for a while. You couldn't believe what he was saying.

“Elvis…!?”. Thousands of thoughts flipped through your mind. He was practically offering you a new home, a new life, with him and Lily. You took back your hand from his.

“Why would you do that? I mean...why would you take a girl with a daughter? You're not worried about what people could say!?

He laughed loudly. “Y/n, I don't care 'bout what them other fools might say. All I care now is 'bout you, and 'bout that precious little girl. If ya say yes, you're gonna be my wife and she’s gonna be my little girl. We're gonna be a family! A real family!”

He smiled at you and you slowly looked up at him and smiled back. “Are you serious?”

He turned serious: “Dead as a rock, y/n. I’ll be your man for the rest o' ya life!” As he slowly leaned towards you, Lily laughed loudly pointing her little finger to you. He smiled and gently picked Lily up on his lap. “Why, look at that. Seems like your little princess here wants us to be together!” Lily smiled, she seemed to know what's good for you. He kissed you again, this time more passionately. Lily pulls out her arms to him. "Daddy!?" He blushed and held her in his arm.

"Come here, my little angel. Come to daddy". Lily smiled and hugged him tightly. You looked at them, a little worried. You were certainly pleased about the situation, but you were afraid of rushing things, especially for your little girl. You didn't want to hurt her in any way.

You tried to get Lily back and explained to her that he’s no daddy.

Elvis held her tightly. “Ah come on, y/n, don't be angry with her. Lil' Lily is happy, aren't ya honeybee?” He sat Lily back on his lap and put his nose on hers. "Awww, look at ya little angel! Daddy loves ya, Lily." Lily touched his face and looked at him with her bright blue eyes. You were melting inside at that sight and you were feeling that maybe that young man could really change your life.

“Elvis you don’t have to do it…” you told him seriously.

He pinched your cheek: “Don’t worry, don't ya just see that we're bonding too well? Me, you, and lil' Lily, we can be a real family! You just have to say yes!” Lily smiled and kissed Elvis' nose.

You were tempted to tell him yes right there, but suddenly a strange fear pierced your heart. You saw all your past life in a second: the marriage, the separation, the divorce…you were not ready to face all these things again. “I...I can’t, I’m sorry!” You got up from the bench and took Lily in your arms: "C’mon Lily, time to go home".

Elvis stood speechless as he watched you going away. Lily looked at him and started to cry: "No, mama! I wanna stay with Eylvis!". You tried to calm down Lily and took her way home. Elvis stood up and ran after you: “Y/n, ya can’t take away my little angel!”. You looked at him firmly: “Elvis please, she's not yours and you know it!” He stood up and went after you. Lily was still crying "Daddy…Eylvis!".

He grabbed you from behind. “Y/n you can't do it…”.

You tried to explain your reasons very calmly: “Elvis please, if you want to do it, I'm ok, but I can't do it in a snap! It’s a thing that has to be settled with time and patience...”

He nodded: “Why, of course! Of course I’ll be a gentleman 'bout it. I’ll give ya all the time ya need. But remember, this is just between you and me...and your little angel over here. Now, ain't this a real pretty picture of a family?” He held you both tight against him. You looked at him a little scared, but at the same time you felt relieved and happy.

You gave him your hand. “Listen, I'll think about that, ok?”. He kissed your hand: “You take all the time ya need, darlin'” then he looked at Lily. "Awwww, what a cute little angel. Do you know who's your daddy, Lily? Yeah, Eylvis is your daddy now!” Lily looked at you, smiling. You felt strange inside. For the first time you thought maybe you really needed someone, and most of all you’re enthusiastic about how much Lily loves Elvis.

He tickled Lily. “It's like this little honeybee knows just what's best for us. And now I got a little mission for ya, y/n!”

“A mission?” you asked.

“Yeah. I want you to go home and gather all the things that you and Lily need for you to be living with me from now on. I want it all ready in 'bout two days. What ya say 'bout that?

You stopped and stared at him. “Two days?? Oh Elvis, how can I…? I mean, it's happening so fast, I have to be sure I can trust you. I can't let this thing hurt me or Lily!”

He grabbed your hand again and his eyes were pointing right at yours. “Ya can trust all I say. Look how I love your little angel. Look how she loves me!” He kissed Lily on the forehead.

You were starting to trust him and you decided to give him a try. “You know what, you're right! I'm in!

He was filled with joy and he held you tight. “Oh y/n you’re making me so happy! We’ll be the best family ever!” Lily smiled again. "Ya, daddy!" and she hugged you both. Elvis smiled, kissed you and Lily and left. You looked after him, your face was a mixture of joy and excitement, but you were still a little worried.

In the following day you kept thinking about him and his proposal. He was offering you a stable home and a new life. You were really concerned, but you thought you had nothing to lose. You trusted him. He told you that was not the first time he saw you. He had spotted you and Lily many times before, but he never had had the courage to talk to you. And now he was practically asking you to marry him. Legally or not. All these thoughts were bouncing in your head, as you started to gather things you and Lily may need to go with him. Before you left, you took Lily in your arms and asks her what she thought about Elvis; you wanted to be sure that she would be really happy. You were still in doubt, but Lily gave you the courage to go ahead. She loved Elvis very much; she kept on calling him daddy and the way they bonded at the park was really amazing.

Two days after, he came to pick you up with his car. He got off and ran to hug you and Lily: “My precious girls…”. Then he turned to you. “Ready?”. You nodded and seated in the car. He drove away…away from your past, from your husband and from all the bad things that happened to you.

He took you to his home, a beautiful country home with a big garden.

He was enthusiastic. “Hey, look! The whole gang is waiting for us!!”. You were concerned: “Elvis who are these people? I thought we would be alone…”

He smiled at you grabbing your cheek. “Oh don't ya worry. My friends are the best fellas you could ask for. They'll keep us safe and happy, honey. Now, come with me, I’ll show ya around!” He parked and Lily gets out of the car and hugs him. Then all the others came, one after the other welcoming the new family member. Elvis opened the door and helped you to get out of the car.

You stopped and watch all the wonderful things around you: “This place is amazing!”

“I told ya!” You smiled and followed Elvis. Lily looked at the guys. They were dressed in a way she had never seen before. She pulled you close laughing: "Mommy, are they cowboys?"

You laughed back: “Of course they are my love, aren't they Elvis?" You winked at him. He played your game.

“You betcha, Lily! These guys are the best! Now, let’s go meet 'em all!” You looked at Elvis. You kiss passionately. You felt really in love with him. Then you hug each other. You heard noises behind you, but you don't worry about it. You don't care what others think, because you are finally happy.

#elvis presley #elvis the king #elvis fans #elvis history #elvis smut #70s elvis #elvis imagine #50s elvis #60s elvis #elvis x reader #elvis fanfic #elvis fanfiction

46 notes · View notes

novemberhope · 2 months

Text

So... I did try to get the start of Niara's journey written. In the project Niara originally appeared in, she is part of Ace's crew but in cannon... she might start her journey with Ace and I can see those two having sibling/friendship vibes but in cannon I think at some point Niara's story would lead her down a different path since she's going to meet Law. (Which also leaves open several possibilities of Niara rushing to Marineford to save Ace or having a hard time later on and so on - I'm trying to avoid spoilers so I'm being vage on purpose) Anyway, I tried to find a start to Niara's story and... here it is.

English is not my first language so please excuse my mistakes...

Niara was sitting on a barstool in a rundown bar, chatting with the barkeeper, a stern-looking, broad-shouldered woman in her fifties. "You shouldn't be here, girl," the lady said, shaking her head. "You should be out there doing your actual job. Instead, you come here almost every other day to go on my nerves." "You'd be bored without me," Niara grinned, looking around the almost empty room. This place, with its dirty windows and mismatched old furniture, located far off in a dark, hidden side alley, was the perfect spot to never be found by her colleagues, so after Niara had stumbled in here by accident the first time, she'd been returning several times a week after that. She didn't mind the gruff barkeeper at all. In fact, she enjoyed talking with the woman. "Like hell," the older woman grumbled. "I don't know why you keep coming here. I'm not gonna serve you alcohol during the day." "That's not what I want," Niara replied while rolling her eyes. They had been over this countless times. "I just like it here… and nobody I know ever comes here, so that's an added bonus." "You mean those fancy marine cadets are too busy doing their actual job to come in here?" The woman snorted. "You should be doing your job too, young lady. Or look for a new one. Can't believe nobody noticed you sneaking off every other day."

"I'm supposed to check cargo at the harbor all week and I'm bored to death already," Niara said with a shrug. "I told those two losers who I'm supposed to be working with that I've been ordered to do something else. If you've got enough family up in the higher marine ranks, they don't question you. Ever." "You can't pull this off forever. You don't like your job, quit and find something new. Or power through it like most people do." "My whole family is a marine family," Niara sighed. "Even my mother was, before she got sick. It's not that easy. Walking away for just another job I don't care about… that's not worth it. Now… if I could actually do what I wanted, then…" "Not one of your pirate stories again." The barkeeper rolled her eyes. "That's a child's dream and you better grow up fast." "Says the lady who owns a bar frequented by pirates," Niara giggled. She didn't feel brushed off by the barkeeper's rough attitude. She just kept on talking because finally, someone cared to listen.

"I wouldn't know if my customers are marines or pirates," the lady replied, slamming her big hands down on the bar counter. "They don't come in here announcing their profession and I know better than asking. As long as they pay for their drinks and don't make trouble, I don't care. And you better not keep running around, telling people this is a pirate bar. On an island with a marine base on it, the word pirate is better not spoken too loudly." Niara looked around. The only other person currently present was some guy at one of the tables who was literally leaning back on his chair, his head thrown back, the hat pulled over his face, sleeping soundly. Or at least that's what it looked like. "Don't worry, I'm not going to give away my hiding spot to my superiors, I'm not that dumb," she said. "As long as I can spend some hours here instead of being under constant supervision with one million rules, I'm good." "You should be under supervision," the barkeeper scoffed. "Pirates! They'd eat someone like you alive." "I can take care of myself," she muttered. After all, her father had made sure all of this children got devil fruit ability to help them climb the marine ranks faster. And her much older siblings all had made names for themselves and were steadily climbing the ranks. Niara, however, had been born much later and had spend the majority of her young life caring for her sick mother. That was one reason for why she had been allowed to enjoy so much freedom without her father watching her every step and making sure she was growing up to become a marine, like he had done with her siblings.

"Pirate's are dangerous," the barkeeper warned her. "I don't know where you got your crazy ideas from, but out there at sea, they're not your fun-loving drinking buddies. They slaughter each other. They slaughter your family members, too. They're out for blood." "Some are," Niara agreed. She wasn't stupid. She grew up with her family's hatred for pirates and with a strong sense of justice being drilled into her from an early age. But she had heard other stories too. And those were the stories she was fascinated with, the adventures she dreamed of, the freedom she longed for. "They all are, one way or another." "They're also families," Niara protested. "Those crews that would go to hell and back for each other, who would go to the end of the world to save their crewmates, who you can laugh and cry with and have amazing adventures with while sailing on the endless blue sea - that's where I want to belong to. I mean… freedom, adventures, family, there's nothing better than that, right?" "There are many things better than that, like a good income and a decent family whose pictures you can't find on wanted posters." The barkeeper rolled her eyes and wiped down the countertop with a clean cloth. "Get yourself together, girl. Those are a child's dreams."

Yes, a child whose much older siblings never gave her the time of day and barely ever showed up at home to see how she was doing. A child whose father was gone with his precious marine family for months on end, leaving said child to struggle to take care of a very sick mother. A child whose only escape was playing make-believe with her village friends and who had watched those friends grow and change and live lives of their own while she was left behind with nothing but dreams that would never come true and a future as a marine she actually dreaded. "Maybe so," she sighed. "But if I can't hold on to them anymore, what do I have left?" "A well paying job if you only ever would care to actually do it, for instance." "Yes, one with so many rules and regulations that I keep getting yelled at for constantly forgetting half of them and people who keep telling me to get my shit together because me being me is just bringing shame to my father's great legacy…" Niara rolled her eyes. It wasn't that she didn't love her family. But even as a child she had always felt like there were worlds between them. And now, without her mother keeping them close, they were drifting apart more and more. "Perhaps you need to work harder then," the barkeeper said, grabbing Niara's glass and firmly putting it away. "Because hiding here is not doing you any good. And believe me, real pirates eat girls like you for breakfast. It's time you move on and grow up, girl." Suddenly Niara felt tired. She knew the brash woman only was looking out for her and she knew that a lot of pirates were simply not good people. But there were other crews out there - and if only… "Perhaps I should go and pretend I have spend all day checking cargo," she muttered while slipping off her barstool. "Try to do actual cargo checking tomorrow," the barkeeper advised.

Rolling her eyes, Niara said her goodbyes and quickly left the bar. The street was dark and dirty and the people hanging around here were not looking too friendly. But Niara wasn't overly worried. She had a devil fruit ability and she also wasn't in marine uniform either. At this time of the day, the people around here weren't that drunk yet, so the chances of getting out of that area safely were pretty high. Behind her, the door opened and the guy that had been sleeping in his chair was walking out, pulling his hat down so his face was hidden. This, too, wasn't unusual behavior around these parts of town. "So," he said. "A marine wanting to be a pirate?" She glanced at him. She couldn't see his face but he didn't even wear a shirt so she figured he probably wasn't a marine. "Being a marine wasn't my choice," she said. "And, just so you know, it's not very polite to pretend to be asleep and listen to other people's conversations." "Are you going to lecture your future pirate friends about their manners, too?" he grinned. "Depends," she replied with a smile. "Who's asking?" "Depends," he replied in the same tone of voice. "What do you have to offer your future pirate crew?" She threw him a sideways glance. Was he offering something, was he just killing time, was he making fun of her? Either way, it was probably not a good idea to reveal her devil fruit power to a complete stranger. "Who even are you?" she wanted to know. "Could be a friend," he said. "Depends on your answers." "So if I tell you I have nothing to offer, you're gonna kill me?" "Oh, slowly and painfully," he laughed. Somehow, she found him funny.

"Keep walking," she said, quickly leading him away from the stares of the few people nearby. She didn't want their attention in the slightest. Unfortunately it was a hot summer day and everyone was outside. Sie turned her back on them, blocking their view, then grabbed the stranger's hand. He looked at her in surprise, then looked down on the tiny flower appearing in the palm of his hand, slowly growing in size. Then he looked back at Niara, eyebrows raised. "So, you plan to attack enemy pirate ships with flower power?" he teased. She growned. "Well, I could wrap you in vines and then drag you to the marine base as a present for my superiors, how does that sound instead?" He threw his head back and laughed and she desperately tried to get a glimpse of his face. "Wouldn't work," he said. "Is that so?" she replied. Sie really wanted to grow some vines and wrap them around him just to get him to stop laughing so badly, but unfortunately there were too many people around. Technically, it wasn't too unusual for a marine to have devil fruit powers, but still, she didn't want them to notice she was more than a random girl sometimes hanging out here at a bar. Instead of an answer, the tiny flower suddenly burst into flames in the middle of his palm and then dissolved into ashes. He blew them away right at her and she wrinkled her nose as the smoke blew in her face. She stared at him. "You're…!" He took off his hat - that hat, how could she have been so blind, it was literally on his wanted poster! He grinned at her but he also seemed to noticed that while people had not seen the little flower growing in the palm of his hand, they had at the very least seen the smoke rising from his hands, if not the flame too. "Listen, flower girl," he said. "If you're still in for that amazing pirate adventure dream of yours, be at the harbor tonight. If you don't show, I'll assume we'll be on opposite sides next time we meet." "Wait - you're serious?" Her heart was beating fast. Was this really it? Her one shot at living her dream? And if so, was she ready to leave everything behind and just trust this man she had just met with her entire future? If she chose to become a pirate, there would be no home or family to ever go back to. It was more likely that she would have to face off against her family members sooner or later - if she even made it that far. There were so many what ifs... But… BUT… this was her ticket out of here, her one shot for freedom - and that stranger was literally Firefist Ace… she would be a fool to turn that offer down. "See you later, - oh yeah, what's your name anyway?" She giggled. "It's Niara," she said, carefully leaving out her family name which would tie her to way too many high ranking marine officers. "See ya later, Nina!" "Ni-A-RA!!" she called after him, but people were coming closer now, looking at them with interest.

Ace disappeared, leaving Niara to look at the curious people as innocently as possible before quickly slipping away, basically running towards marine headquarters. She had a choice to make but she felt so giddy and excited that she knew it wasn't really a choice at all. It was finally time to follow her dream.

Sorry for having to break this into smaller blocks of text but tumblr kept telling me my text blocks are too long???

9 notes · View notes