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#well not really but like the intention was there sort of
buddie911abc · 3 days
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Here I go again.
Buck asks Eddie if his son is the real reason he doesn't date. Eddie responds with, "That and, they weren't my type."
This has been a flag for everyone who reads the subtext, but let's take a moment to look at the last GIF.
Eddie says they weren't his type. Buck turns around to look at them and probably assesses what makes them, 'not' Eddie's type because the girls were all subjectively pretty. There were also a variety of types of women there.
But look closely at the GIF. Eddie said they weren't his type. While Buck is glancing back, Eddie gives Buck a quick look that really screams, "You are it. You are the type." When I noticed this from the GIF edit, I thought it might be the creator slowing it down, but nope. If I look at the episode, it is the same or nearly the same. This is early season two, and I have always thought, in the early episodes, there was no intent to pair Eddie with Buck as anything but a friend. However, this scene makes me wonder at what point Tim M or whoever was writing changed their minds about adding in a subtextual narrative.
I find it very difficult to see this scene as a heteronormative exchange. In fact, it even feels like Eddie is pushing back a little to test where Buck stands. Buck as a character who lacks self-awareness gives a mixed signal answer. (which tracks with his character at this point and matches his coming-out arc.) **edited to clarify** Buck's mixed signal response to Eddie saying they aren't my type is, "Not mine either, at least not anymore."**
A few seconds later, Buck says Eddie has a weak excuse. My lovely and wonderfully sassy Eddie says, "You live in your invisible girlfriend's house, and you're telling me about weak excuses." He essentially points at Buck's closet door, but of course, this is something that Buck couldn't see or pick up on at the time. These moments are small in the grand scheme of the show as a whole so I'm afraid it will be forgotten. It would be nice to have some sort of throwback acknowledgment that this scene hasn't been retconned.
To backtrack a little bit here, I would also like to point out something else about the early timing or the writing of these characters as potentially queer. They are outside. (True I don't understand the ins and outs of filmmaking so there may very well be a reason for this.) But the shot itself is making them walk close together. Not just close, their shoulders are literally bumping against each other, hitting and knocking at each other in a way that might appear "unintentionally" intimate--until you remember they are outside. It seems to me like there are dozens of ways to shoot this thing that don't require them to be so casually physical with each other. For the scene to be shot like this and then consider the canon conversation that took place, it feels quite intentional that the writers wanted viewers to look closely for something else.
Whenever certain people call Buddie shippers delusional, I think about this. Subtextual language aside, the scenes are shot in such a way as to plant the idea of "More." There is attraction here. There is flirting.
Someone, somewhere wanted to tell this story from the start; and I'm not mad about it. I'm 100% here for it, and I'm ready for it to go down as the most epic love story I've ever watched or read about, but I also admit that I want it to be canon, not so I can throw it in anyone's face that their ship is wrong, but so I can prove I'm not some weirdo putting two hot guys together. I'm seeing a real romance being built. I want that validation as much as I want everyone under the LGBTQ umbrella to see representation for themselves on screen.
If you want to see the scene, go to about 3:05.
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grapefives · 3 days
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REVÓLVER SEXUAL | HC
supernova trio x gn!reader (separately)
very light angst + implied nsfw + hispanic/latin reader + past fat shaming + insecurities + fluff + mentioned past unhealthy mechanisms
a/n: totally not self indulging. this has been in my drafts for a year LMAO please like 🧍🏻‍♀️
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૮ ּ ۟ monkey d. luffy ׅ ۫ ✧
when you first joined the crew, luffy KNEW you had some sort of trouble with food
you were so hesitant of EVERYTHING that he found himself insisting and making sure you ate well, along with sanji
“y/n, eat more.” you felt like he was your MOM.
you could hear the “estas muy flac@” from your family members or the “ni que estuvieras a dieta” from your mother
but it was so HARD to say no to luffy, captain or not.
you still didn’t have a healthy relationship with food, and still felt a little guilty if you found yourself eating more than you FELT like you should’ve
sometimes you’d go all day without eating until luffy drags you for dinner, it’s not that you did it intentionally, you just don’t find it in you to eat
honestly, it worried luffy but he never really commented on it
all he would do is make sure you at least ate
but when you would play with your food more than eat or even just stare at the plate before you, he would frown and actually force feed you
“Y/N YOU HAVE TO BE STRONG AND HEALTHY SO WE CAN BEAT EVERYTHING THAT COMES OUT WAY!”
yet, one day he finds out you literally had an issue with eating, you had mentioned it to chopper and he just happened to overhear
then it clicked why you were always squirmy during intimacy
and WITHOUT FAIL, to your surprise, he started being reassuring to you
he’s always a sweetheart with you, your hype man regardless but this time you knew his intentions were for you to understand you shouldn’t worry about your physical appearance
his eyes were ten times more tender outside the bedroom
yet, when it came to intimacy he was like a hungry animal— kissing, biting and grabbing. it had taken you aback at how specific he was being, but you still melted into him
he made you forget the voices that would say “hide that” or “don’t let him notice” but he made sure you understood that he’ll love you regardless of what you think
and he’s an eater
he’ll eat you up. always.
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૮ ּ ۟ trafalgar d. law ׅ ۫ ✧
he’s a DOCTOR. man’s knows when someone is off.
he mistook your lack of interest in food for a stomach bug, genuinely concerned and forcing you to take pills and medicine
lowkey made you feel bad and ashamed to the point you came clean
medical confidentiality right?
😭 the face he gave you!!
“it’s unhealthy to neglect vital nutrients to your body.”
very stern about your meal intake, takes it upon himself to make sure you eat what you can stomach at first and make sure you grow comfortable with both him and food
he’s sweet really, just shows it in private
he literally sits you down and asks you what you would like for your body, because if you have any concerns then you MUST attend them CORRECTLY
no more unhealthy mechanisms
and he falls even more in love when you seem more radiant, more confident.
he’d come up from behind always and just plant a warm, wet kiss on your ear before whispering a compliment on your appearance
he made you feel like no one else’s opinion mattered anymore.
literally it didn’t matter if people commented on your weight, the results you were having made you feel confident
he was definitely surprised when you’d initiate intimacy, when you’d devour him like a starving animal
“someone’s hungry,” he teased once, but when you had paused, he realized his wording must have affected you
he low key panics and stutters out an apology but you smirk at him
“for once i don’t feel guilty for eating-“ and you devour his heart and soul too
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૮ ּ ۟ eustass kid ׅ ۫ ✧
i’m sorry but this doofus was really oblivious about it until killer pointed it out
he was so mad at himself. how dare he not see your issue with food?? he thought you gave him your leftovers out of love!!
dude he’s like, an insensitive giant thinking he’s being helpful
it made sense of why you were always trying to put off intimacy or why you’d try to make him see less of you
“i don’t give a damn about how you look. why would i care?” he asks.
in his head he was being sweet and saying “i love you just the way you are.”
but it made you feel like shit
you were already struggling with feeling right with yourself, and he comes and says he doesn’t care? maybe you’re being sensitive but even that made you feel worse
it felt like you’ll never be enough for anyone, even eustass.
you never felt like you mattered, but growing up your weight put labels on you. you grew up with insults being used as nicknames, yet you felt like eustass saw you as nothing
“why aren’t you eating?” he asks when he notices you still aren’t developing a good eating habit, some days you eat well and others you either overeat or don’t eat at all
“does it matter?” you huff.
“i give a damn when you could get sick!”
“you said you don’t give a damn about how i look, so shut up about what i do.” you growl.
“eh? when did i say that!? you need to eat!” he huffs.
“well no thank you.”
you ignore him and he has to corner you in your room to get you to pay him any mind
his interrogations fall deaf in your ears as he cages you under him on your bed
“if i don’t matter to you get out,” you blurt out.
“what are you talking about? when have i made you feel like you don’t matter to me.”
“you know i’m struggling and you just- you just said you don’t give a damn about how i look!”
“because i don’t! does it have to matter? i love you for you! pirates seek out people for their bodies and for their own pleasures! i’m with you because i love you for who you are!”
“and i am not saying you’re ugly or whatever it is you think i think!” he beats you to every argument.
and then he goes on to show you PHYSICALLY what he means. not like, harsh or anything. you’ve never felt so precious under his care before, he kissed you so tenderly.
he didn’t make you feel fragile, like something that could break in a bad way
he made you understand how he sees you as more as his partner- as an extension of his soul, his missing piece
“i’ll make sure you never feel like that again, as long as you’re with me, you’ll be more valuable than a poneglyph. whatever you struggle with, i’ll help you through it.”
your confidence went up, because honestly he’s brutally honest and many people take what the captain says seriously; yet you knew he’s never lie to you
at the end of the day, what your lover says is what matters to you.
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mizu0xox0 · 1 day
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Fei Xiao and Ruan Mei x reader with Oshi No Ko star eyes
[Both characters are written as separate hcs, might be OOC]
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🦊Fei Xiao
-Shes definitely fascinated by how unique your eyes look, I mean sure some Xianzhou folks have unique eye colors but your eyes that look like they hold the galaxy in them now that's something she could stare into daily
-Fei Xiao will definitely introduce you to Jiaoqiu and Moze. And you bet she'll always bring up how beautiful your eyes are well everything about you is beautiful but your eyes stand out the most
-Fei Xiao will do anything to see your eyes light up. Compliment you? Of course she doesn't mind. Train with you? She is on her way. Maybe even sparring with her? Gladly plus she gets the bonus of seeing the passion burning in your eyes
-Speaking about compliments I feel like Fei Xiao would say something along the lines of "You're my world and I mean it quite literally you have a whole galaxy in your eyes."
-This will get worse when she is drunk and her words start to slur. There may even be occurrences where either Jing Yuan, Jiaoqiu or Moze may have to witness such occurrences as they bring her back to your shared house and see Fei Xiao saying extremely cheesy compliments about you which makes the average person cringe
-All in all sure your eyes are unique but Fei Xiao finds all of your unique
🧬Ruan Mei:
-As someone who wishes to understand lifeforms well she's seen many eyes of different lifeforms but no lifeform has eyes as interesting as you
-She tries to recreate your eyes with her experiments such as the cat cakes but the cat cakes eyes just aren't like yours a whole galaxy
-If you ever want that cat cake she'll gladly let you take it since well its a mini you sort of
-Whenever she spends time locked up in her lab and needs some new inspiration she may just go to you and look at your eyes. Something about your eyes may give her ideas. Maybe the various sparkles and twinkles in them.
-Ruan Mei who in her journey of understanding lifeforms doesn't seem to grasp the understanding of your eyes and why she gets lost in those eyes for yours. It's as if your eyes hold the whole galaxy in them that she could get lost it
-Every once in a while she may be doing some embroidery work and may embroider your eye color in her work after all it is quite a sight
-She will have difficulty expressing her emotions and compliments are rare from her but you can tell she's definitely somewhere between fascinated and amazed by your eyes since she looks a little more intent into your eyes as compared to when she's with other people. But be patient with her as time goes on who knows.
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Note: Thank you for reading! I finally decided to write about two of my favorite female characters in HSR, I really love Ruan Mei a lot esp since her release. Really wishing that she'll achieve her goal of becoming an aeon. Hopefully sometime in the future I'll have a firmer grasp on these two characters and write more for them.
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balladeerssong · 3 days
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Scaramouche x fem!Reader smau. masterlist.
prev. | PART IX. - almost. | next.
in which silence is good and bad at the same time.. (written part).
Much to your surprise, by the time you got ready after agreeing to take a walk with Kunikuzushi, he was already outside of your apartment's door. The streets were dimly lit, but it wasn't hard to notice his puffy, red eyes under the streetlights. There was never silence between you two - you usually kept the convo going with whatever was on your mind. However, this time around you knew he didn't need that right now. He simpy needed someone to be silent with; someone to keep him grounded while he lets the soft wind sort his thoughts for him.
You walked in a lazy pace on the route you took the first time you hung out. The park you stopped at was one you visited countless times before during your previous years at the Akademiya, but being there with Kuni in such a comfortable silence it felt so different, it would be hard to explain. Sitting side by side on the swings, both of you gently pushing yourselves back and forth while countless thoughts occupy both of your minds.
It wasn't until your phone lit up in your hand, a text notification appearing on your screen. You took a glance at Kuni, who seemed to be too lost in thought to even notice. You took a second to open and read the messages you've recieved.
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A serious message from Ajax? Surely a "once in a blue moon" experience.
You thought for a second. Issuing a call in such a serene moment would be so disrespectful, no? He probably wants to talk about something regarding the duo stream on sunday, that can probably wait a few hours.
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His short response gave your heart a light squeeze. It was never your intention to hurt his feelings, but sometimes it was hard to tell if he's being serious or not. It's really just about the stream.. right?
"That message you got must be interesting. You look so distressed." Kuni's voice was quiet as he spoke. The tears he likely shed a while ago were still straining his throat.
"Oh, just one of my friends asking me where I am. Nothing to worry about."
He nodded in response, his feet slowly dangling in the air below him. He was looking at the full moon above the park, perfectly visible - its reflection in his eyes serving as a spotlight to give a clear view of his uncried tears. It felt like such a perfect moment to say something. To ask what happened, to tell him it's okay, but nothing left your mouth.
"Sumeru is great, I like it so far." He spoke before you could. Despite the comical timing to say this, it sounded genuine.
"I'm glad you do! You being here is great as well." You shot him a sweet smile, an innocent, unsuspecting one.
He wanted to tell you, he wanted to tell you everything on his mind. How his best friend was right. How he fell in love with you after the first day, how he got attached so quickly he never spent a single break in uni without you solely because of it. How his mother never loved him, never spent time with him, gods, she never even LOOKED at him. And when he saw the way you smile at him so effortlessly, how natural it is for you to be kind to him, to guide and help him, he immediately felt the bleeding hole on his heart starting to heal. But at the end of the day it was all a dirty, pitiful excuse in his head.
So maybe silence is the best choice for now.
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i see there's shipping discussion occurring in your ask box so i figure i'll throw in my two cents as well!
i used to be a REALLY heavy shipper, in exactly that shallow "reduce their personalities to the concept of kissing each other" way that tons of people are complaining about. i wouldn't get into ship wars or harass people or anything, but i was totally the kind of person who you couldn't just have a level character discussion with— because i would be pretty intent on just going through the motions with whatever best friend or acquaintance I'd decided they had a huge crush on.
by contrast now my biggest most important "ships" end up all being somewhere between 3-5 people with a lot of care put into the nuances of each connection on the relationship chart— i still refer to them as poly ships (as a shorthand mostly), but of the 3 to 10 different relationships between the characters, i usually only see a few of them as romantic or sexual, with the majority a lot closer to a found family or queerplatonic sort of vibe
honestly i think the biggest reason for the reductive style of shipping was that 1) i wasn't as skilled a writer then as i am now, so i wasn't really sure how to really retain all of the features of a character that i liked, and 2) i wanted the biggest feelings IMMEDIATELY and there's some kind of instant gratification to shipping where the end goal is for them to kiss and you can just draw/write/think about them kissing and you're done.
it's kind of like the instant ramen of fictional relationships to me. it's kind of "one size fits all", low writing skill requirement, low effort, really really fast and easy, and ultimately not really that rewarding at the end of it. and just like how real actual ramen exists separately from instant noodle cups, it IS possible to write a really amazing and beautiful and deep romantic ship fic that successfully plays off of the kinds of people these characters are, but ramen still isn't the end-all be-all of relationships! there are so many different hypothetical dishes that could be made with the same characters!
and my personal favorite is polyqueerplatonic ships for this very reason, because with just a few characters you can get a whole diverse array of interactions and dynamics!!
anyway tldr; i think romantic shipping is fun, and even "cheap" reductive romantic shipping can be fun, but (to return to my instant noodles metaphor) it would be reasonably upsetting to attend an awesome community potluck only to find like 90% cup noodles. and the people serving the cup noodles frown at you whenever you ask if anyone's serving like, gourmet spaghetti or dumplings or something.
so just know that if you're bringing your silly "ouhhh they should kiss" fan works to the fandom, you're appreciated and I'm glad you're having fun, and if you're bringing the super precisely thought-out nuanced relationship fan works to the fandom, you are ALSO so appreciated and additionally i really wish there were more of you in my own fandoms.
flashbacks to the time i looked up a ship that i THOUGHT was pretty popular but it only had like 230 works on AO3 at the time and basically all of them were romantic instead of my hyper-specific one-sided queerplatonic one-sided fully platonic thing i had pictured in my mind....
Okay, as someone who has tried their hand at writing slow burn in the past, I totally get the instant gratification thing. "You know when would be a good time for them to kiss? NOW"
I'd get frustrated at my own characters for not just making out already and I was the one writing them not making out lmao
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cuecrynsleep · 3 days
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Reconnecting the Past
Amangela | Reunion AU!
Chapter 14: We Remain Friends
Amanda and Angela call for the first time in many years.
Disclaimer: This is not meant to be a representation of those in Smosh, rather a fan made perspective on the characters they portray online. Remain respectful.
← Ch. 13 | Masterlist
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Amanda stared at her phone intently as if her eyes alone would make the screen change. Her teeth bit down on her bottom lip lightly, waiting impatiently for Angela to pick up. It's not like it was taking minutes, where really only mere seconds passed. It was weird. Beforehand the thought of calling her was passing but now that it was actually happening she couldn't help but wait in anticipation.
She had an idea of what her voice sounded like, but she couldn't remember it exactly. Maybe, if all those years ago, she committed her voice to her mind deeper she'd be able to hear Angela's voice in her messages. Memories of countless late night calls, falling asleep to each other's voices festered in her mind.
Then, as if Angela could hear her thoughts, she joined the call. A simple greeting came from her mouth, stopping Amanda from even speaking as it shook her to her core.
"Hey Amanda."
Her eyes widened as she choked on air itself. Fuck. It really has been a long time. The sound of her voice was painfully nostalgic and she couldn't help the smile that pulled at her lips. She missed it. She missed the flood gates of memories attached to her voice. The way her voice was endlessly expressive and how raspy it’d get in the morning.
"Hi Ange," she manages to say. "Sorry, hearing your voice caught me off guard."
"Well," Angela paused, her voice shaky as she spoke. "I'd agree but you sent me a voice note before."
"What can I say?" Amanda lightly chuckled. "I like keeping you on your toes I guess."
There was a brief moment of silence, before Angela found her voice. "You always keep me on my toes." She said in almost a murmur, yet Amanda could make out her voice. She seemingly shifted, hesitating over her words, before clearing her throat. “Whatever, go do your laundry.”
Amanda stared down at the laundry basket in front of her, completely forgetting the chore the moment the call started. She chuckled. “Maybe you do distract me, I forgot about my laundry.”
“That's the whole reason this call started,” Angela deadpanned.
"Laundry or actually talking to you?" Amanda asked, without it actually being meant as a question. "It's obvious which one I'd choose anyday." She said, as she sorted through her laundry basket separating her clothes.
As if it was bound to happen a comfortable silence filled the call as Amanda continued to sort through her laundry. Eventually she heard Angela's light humming over the background noise of her sifting through some papers. A natural smile pulled at her lips as she enjoyed the moment. Then as the conversation delved into random true crime cases for the next hour and a half, she found her night truly enjoyable.
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kikyoupdates · 2 days
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Heartbreaker ⭑˚💔⭑ 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒
bnha x f!reader
reverse harem, isekai, my hero academia x fem!reader, slowburn
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You awaken one day with virtually no memories. The only thing guiding you is some strange system that likes to dictate your every move, and for some reason, it insists that you make certain people fall in love with you. Desperate for answers, you decide to go along with its demands. After all, how hard can it be?
story masterlist | next
When you opened your eyes, everything was dark.  
There was very little that you could feel, apart from your rhythmic breathing, faint as it was. It was eerily quiet too. You weren’t sure why exactly, but you got the sense that this wasn’t how things should be. It didn’t feel natural to be all alone, no sign of life as far as your eyes could see. You couldn’t move your body even after trying for a good while, so you eventually gave up and allowed yourself to settle into the silence.
As it turned out, total silence was loud in its own way. It made your ears buzz from the ever-present nothingness; made your brain feel like it might split in half. 
You didn’t know what in the hell was going on, but the longer this continued, the more likely it was that you would go insane.  
Then, as if by a miracle, the silence broke.  
["𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞."]
Someone was talking to you. Well, not really talking to you. It was strange. You couldn't hear a voice or anything like that. Instead, you could see the words pop up in front of your eyes, like some sort of weird projection. The projection made a slight ping as it popped up, but otherwise, no words were exchanged aloud.  
“Hello?” you called out fearfully. Ah. So, you could talk. Your voice wasn’t lost, thankfully. It was just that you couldn’t move your body forward. Not that you’d even know where to go. Everything was pitch-black.  
["𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨. 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠?”]
“Scared,” you admitted, swallowing hard. “I don’t know what’s going on. And I don’t... I don’t remember. Anything. I don’t remember a single thing.”
[“𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 [𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞] [𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞]. 𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞.”]
[Name]. Alright. You had a name too, and when you mumbled aloud just to familiarize yourself with the sound of it, you were relieved that it sounded familiar. You were a real person with a name. You had that much, at the very least.  
It was too bad that everything else was a total mystery to you.  
“Why am I here?” you managed to ask. “Actually... where is here?”  
[“𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.”]
“Who are you, then?”  
[“𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧. 𝐈’𝐦 𝐚 𝐬𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦. 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲. 𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨. 𝐈’𝐦 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬.”]
You felt yourself frown. “Tasks? What sort of tasks? I still don’t understand. And my head... it’s starting to hurt a lot. I’m really scared. Why don’t I remember anything?”
[“𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝. 𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐈’𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞. 𝐀𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭?”]
Your head was now throbbing without abandon, but you couldn’t so much as move a hand to even press down on the points that hurt and try to ease the pain. None of this was making any sense. You hated that you didn’t remember anything, and even though this system was trying to claim that it harbored no ill-intent, it wasn’t exactly answering your questions either.  
“I want to leave,” you breathed out. “Please. Let me leave. Are you the one who took my memories? If you did, I’m begging you to give them back. I’m terrified not knowing what’s going on. I don’t know how to explain this, but... it feels like a piece of me has been ripped away. I don’t even know who I am.”  
The system didn't respond for a long time, and you felt as though you might drown in this sea of emptiness.
Eventually, you heard another ping.    
[“𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭.”]
The more of its messages you read, the more you doubted whether this system was truly an ally.  
But what else could you do? You couldn’t even move a muscle. You were absolutely helpless, so you could only bite back your tears and try to stay strong.
“Okay,” you agreed. “I just want my memories back. As long as you’re not going to make me do anything crazy... then I’m in.” 
The next ping sounded more chipper, somehow. As if the system was pleased with your response.  
[“𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐥𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝.”]
You didn't even manage to protest before the scene changed.  
Suddenly, you could move again. It wasn’t dark or quiet anymore either. There were crowds of people all over the place. Most of them seemed to be in a hurry to get someplace; some even accidentally bumped into you as they scurried about.  
Unsurprisingly, you didn’t recognize where you were, but for now, it was better than being trapped in darkness.  
“Where is this?” you asked. You must’ve looked rather silly to all the bystanders, since you were talking to thin air, as far as they were concerned. But you could care less about maintaining appearances right now. What mattered was getting some goddamn answers.
[“𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐟𝐮, 𝐉𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐧. 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.”]
“Alright...” 
It was strange how they said you would be living here, not that you had been living here. Yet another cryptic answer, although you shouldn’t have even been surprised at this point.  
[“𝐘𝐞𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧.”]
“Okay. And... do I have a family?” you couldn’t help but ask. “Is there anyone who can help tell me what I’ve forgotten?”  
The system’s next response made your heart sink.  
[“𝐍𝐨. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲. 𝐍𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬.”]
You briefly wondered if they were lying to you, but you supposed you had no real way of confirming the truth right now. This was all so frightening. You desperately wished you could remember something—anything—so that it would ease your nerves even just a little. 
[“𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲. 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧. 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐤. 𝐈𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐲.”]
That sure made you perk up. A person, they’d said. Whoever that person was, maybe they could help you once you told them you were struggling with a severe case of amnesia. Maybe they would know what to do, and you wouldn’t have to rely on this stupid system who just kept stringing you along without even giving you a chance to breathe.  
So, you nodded.
“Alright. Tell me where I need to go.”  
[“𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐈’𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐮𝐩. 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭’𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦.”]
Just as they’d said, the next screen that popped up provided you with a clear visual as to which way you needed to go. You followed it dutifully, somewhat nervous that you were being led into a trap. After all, maybe this system was leading you straight towards a serial killer or something. Maybe it’s true purpose was to get you murdered.  
Fuck. Maybe I should reconsider. Maybe I need to go to the police first.  
Except it was too late for that.  
[“𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐮𝐲? 𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧. 𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.”]
The guy in question was a teenager, presumably around your age, with spiky ash blonde hair, crimson eyes, and a rather nasty expression. He was angrily chugging a can of pop, and once he was finished, made the can explode in his hands before tossing the smoking remains to the ground.  
You gaped. “He just littered, but also... how did he do that? I swear I just watched him create an explosion with his bare hands.”
[“𝐏𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐤𝐬. 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐤 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.”]
“Wow,” you mumbled breathlessly. “Do I have a Quirk too?”
[“𝐈’𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐤, 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫. 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦.”]
“What do I say?”
[“𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐜𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮.”]
Huh?
You could’ve sworn you misread the message. What the hell were they talking about? Why did they want you to put the moves on some person you’d only just seen for the first time in your life?
Or... was it the first time, actually? The longer you stared at this guy, the more you were starting to feel like he looked familiar somehow. But maybe that was good. Maybe that meant he could help trigger some of your memories.  
The system continued to coax you. 
[“𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬. 𝐎𝐛𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲, 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩. 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧. 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞’𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮.”]
You figured that would be easier said than done, but... okay. All you had to do was be friendly, you supposed. Just walk up to him and make polite conversation. Yeah. You could do this. It was going to be just fine.  
Taking a deep breath, you picked up the pace and walked fast enough to match his stride. Thankfully, he was alone, which would hopefully make this whole thing a lot less awkward. 
Key word being hopefully.
“Hello!” 
It was the only thing you could think to say. How else were you supposed to greet a total stranger, after all?  
At the sound of your voice, he turned towards you, and his brows furrowed so tight that it looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel. 
“The fuck do you want?” he spat.  
Oh no. 
You hadn’t expected him to be so confrontational. Granted, most people would probably think it was a bit weird to be called out by a stranger, but the normal response was, “Yes?” or, “How can I help you?”
Yet this guy was glaring at you like he wanted to bash your face in, and all you’d said was one freaking word.  
“H-Hello,” you said again, stuttering this time because you were nervous. “Um, I... I saw you walking by and thought you looked really cool. I’m [Name]. Would you mind giving me your number?” 
Internally, you were face-palming. God, you didn’t know what the hell to say, and the fact that the system said they wanted you to make him fall for you was sending your brain for a loop. You didn’t have any memories about the person you were. Was this something you would normally say? Were you actually good at flirting, but your charisma had disappeared along with your memories?  
The system seemed mildly frustrated as well.
[“𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭. 𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝’𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞. 𝐎𝐡, 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥. 𝐋𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬.”] 
What happened was that the guy’s scowl deepened tenfold, and on top of already being angry, he now looked considerably disgusted as well.  
“Piss off, dipshit,” he snapped. “I’m not in the mood. You think I’d just give out my number to some random creep? Get lost.” 
He then shoved his hands deep into his pockets and stormed off, muttering curses under his breath the whole while.  
You didn’t need your memories to know that had just gone poorly. 
A new message popped up, but it looked slightly different than the ones you’d been receiving thus far.
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄:
[𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐞.]
[-𝟏𝟎 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬.]
𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬: -𝟏𝟎/𝟏𝟎𝟎]
“Bakugou Katsuki,” you mumbled. Huh. Even his name sounded familiar, but you just couldn’t place it. You winced and clutched at your head. It had begun to throb again. You felt like you were on the cusp of remembering something, but there was some sort of wall blocking your memories and keeping them from you.
While you were busy fending off the pain, the system chimed in again.
[“𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐈 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝?”]
The system didn’t have a voice, which meant that you couldn’t hear them speak, but there was something mildly threatening about the way the message was phrased.
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erendur · 1 day
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Crack Silm relationships I'd like to read about
It would completely ruin the story and Jirt’s intents, structure, motifs and characters, but at least I could read the Silm without going “No, not the ruin of Beleriand again ! Ah, no, please, not the third Kinslaying, I can’t !”.
Maedhros and Lúthien.
He has trauma, looks much the worse for wear after his captivity, and would definitely piss off her dad as a choice of boyfriend (rebel teenage Lúthien energy). She is the most beautiful (self-explanatory), a unique type of Elf-Maia being (Noldor like novelty and are curious), spends a lot of time singing which I guess would foster a sense of comforting familiarity in one wounded not just in body but also in mind ?
Anyway, they could have a great Wounded Beast who Swore a Stupid Oath and Committed Some Crimes and Eldricht Beauty I Can Fix Him dynamic.
They both hang out in forests enough that they could easily meet. She would take him of a stealth mission to steal the Silmarils. He would borrow his brother’s knives (one knife per Silmaril), and they would be successful. Huan could give a hand out of family solidarity. Morgoth would be to stunned/ashamed/doesn’t really like to move his ass from his throne anyway so nothing much would happen immediately. They would still be at war and Morgoth would make more monsters and bid his time.
Lúthien could wear the three Silmarils on a crown. Maedhros would be very happy and proud. She is canonically the prettiest Elf ever and he is “well formed” so they could have the prettiest babies. And actually, and I’m very aware that is not at all how genetics work, but they would have Lúthien’s canonical descendants as their babies. That’s 7 of them, which sounds like an adequate number of sprogs for a Fëanorian (no need to change the family sigil !).
Eärendil and Elwing would be the elder, a twin brother and sister. At some point in their teens (Elvish teens, they’re in their thirties), they decide to take a Silmaril from their mother’s jewellery box and to go on their own little stealth mission to save the world, after having spend too much time with their Uncle Fingon. Since Elwing is very eldrichty and can change into birds, and Eärendil can (check note) make boats, the missions is of course a total success. Guided by the light of the Silmaril, they eventually land on the shores of Valinor where they immediately start singing a moving song about the plight of Middle Earth. Eärendil accompanies the song by playing Fingon’s harp (he knows how stealth missions work and of course took Fingon’s silver great harp along with his mother’s jewellery), Elwing leads a chorus of seabirds at key moments.
The Valar are of course moved (have we mentioned how pretty they both look ???), they send an army to Middle-Earth, Eärendil and Elwing are given the right to spend their life travelling between Middle-Earth and Valinor by the Valar as a reward. Eärendil choses to do the trips in the sky on his boat (because he can), his mum’s Silmaril on his forehead, the shadow of Fingon's harp clearly visible against the light of the Silmaril. The Fëanorians are totally cool with it, since he is himself a Fëanorian.
Elwing eventually settles in Tol Eressëa where she becomes Queen of the returned Elves, and therefore beats her Aunt Galadriel to the post by about an age at being the first reigning female ruler among the Elves.
Dior would be kept well away from making any sort of political decision. Given his clearly incredible fighting talents though, he would either end up being Celegorms’ favourite nephew and heir, or, my favourite version, he would take over the cavalry and the Gap from Maglor, who would be able to finally go chill somewhere and write some music.
Elured and Elurin would eventually inherit Doriath, just because. Or they would go and live a wild life of hunting and hanging out in the forest with their uncles Ambarussa. They’re still twins.
Elros and Elrond are obviously still twins as well. They are born very shortly after Elured and Elurin, and since that’s a lot of eldricht peredhil twins to have under just one roof (just the weather is wild, people are begging Mae to do something about it), they are given to foster to another family member as per Victorian family traditions. This family member is, of course, Maglor, who doesn’t really get to chill for very long after all. Since he’s no longer in charge of the cavalry or a super-hard-to-defend position, he raises the twins.
Elros of course is now an Elf-Maia peredhel, and doesn’t have to die. He still founds Númenor and becomes their king, because someone with the gift of prescience finally used it for something useful and figured out that these guys could really do with a wise, immortal ruler, who wouldn’t, you know, suddenly decide to go and invade Valinor once he finds the burden of mortality too hard to bear. Elendil is his son. Isildur his grandson. He is kept well away from rings.
Elrond is pretty much the same, but with less people around him having died/disappeared/been killed. But he’s too awesome to be different. He’s still the same “kind as summer” dude. He becomes his father’s heir, because he’s just too awesome. Everybody thinks it’s a great choice, because he is too awesome. He’s bestie with his cousin Gil-Galad, the High King. 
That turned out to be a longer post than intended so I’ll post the rest later.
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emotionalcadaver · 20 hours
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Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir
Fandom: Peaky Blinders
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC
Summary: Lucy decides that she and Lizzie need to talk.
Word Count: 5,007
Notes: Warnings for depictions of violence, choking (not the fun kind), pregnancy, and references to abortion.
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Chapter 20: The Moment of Catastrophe
“I need to talk to Lizzie.” She was standing in front of Tommy’s desk, eyes downcast and fingers picking at one of the little wood carvings of a horse she’d made for him. Tommy’s eyes snapped up to hers from where they had been focused on the papers she’d just deposited in front of him, capping his pen and straightening up.
“You don’t have to–”
“I sort of do. If I’m going to remain involved in all of this.” Involved with you, she added silently. “And it’s killing me not knowing what her actual feelings or intentions regarding me are.”
Tommy frowned, eyes wary. Lucy was pretty sure that the main reason why he hadn’t encouraged a sit-down between the three of them already was because he was worried about what Lizzie might say to her. 
“I’ll go with you.”
But Lucy shook her head. “I think it would be better if she and I talked alone first, actually.”
His frown deepened. “If I’m there, I can act as a buffer if she starts getting unpleasant…”
“Exactly. I need to know how she really feels, Tommy.” Running a hand through her hair, she sighed, well aware that she might be willingly walking into a lion’s den with the full expectation of getting mauled. But she couldn’t keep living in this limbo of sitting around, wondering what Lizzie really thought of her. Of what her intentions were. Everything that her mind kept coming up was horrible. At least this way, she would know for sure and could adjust accordingly. “We’re both adults. We can sit down and have a mature conversation.”
“You might be able to,” Tommy muttered. Lucy gave him a look that was intended to be stern, but failed miserably at hiding the fond amusement underneath.
“Don’t be mean.”
Tommy sighed, thumbs twiddling together before he stood, stepping around the desk to get to her. His large hands smoothed up and down her arms reassuringly. 
“Don’t let her bully you. If she starts being nasty, just leave.”
Lucy nodded. “I’ll walk over to her house after running some errands. I’ll be back before lunch.”
He touched her face, thumb running across her cheek before kissing her, then pulling her into a hug. “I love you.”
Looping her arms around his middle, she squeezed him back, letting her head nestle against his chest. “I love you too. I’ll be back soon.”
He kissed her again before letting her go, hands stuffed into his pockets and watching her grab her coat and go to the door. She offered him what she hoped to be a reassuring smile before stepping out, pulling her cap onto her head. 
The errands she needed to run seemed to pass incredibly quickly, but the walk to Lizzie’s felt as though it took an eternity. It was in a neighborhood similar to where Polly lived, on the outskirts of the city. As she walked, she smoked cigarette after cigarette, anxiety settling like rocks in her stomach. 
She had not been wholly honest about her reasoning for coming to speak with Lizzie. Yes, she did need desperately to know where Lizzie stood on everything–where she stood on her–but that wasn’t all. She supposed that a part of her almost wanted Lizzie to yell at her. To throw things at her head. To tell her that she was a selfish monster for still clinging to Tommy when she knew that if she were gone he and Lizzie could have a chance to actually build something together with their baby. 
Her own mind had been relentlessly pummeling her with those thoughts since Tommy had told her the news; might as well let the person she was actually hurting have a chance to hurl them at her herself. 
Of course there was the other part of her that clung to a small sliver of hope that it wouldn’t be that bad. That Lizzie could actually make peace with their current arrangement. Maybe even be happy to have Lucy around. 
Wishful thinking, that was. Especially that last bit. 
When Lizzie’s house came into view, her hands started to tremble, and she immediately regretted not taking Tommy up on his offer to come with her. He was more or less the only reason she’d managed not to entirely fall apart, or pack up her things and disappear into the night without a word. Without his stabilizing presence beside her, she felt terrifyingly adrift and at the mercy of her own treacherous, tortuous mind.
Her boots clomped against the stone steps, shaking fingers drawing into a fist that she tapped against the wood in a few quick raps. Stuffing her hands into her pockets in an attempt to hide their trembling, she glanced around while she waited, eyes landing on the man kneeling next to a flower bed by the steps leading to the front door. A pair of dirt-lathered gardener’s gloves covered his hands, a spade, trowel, and weeder laid out next to him on the grass. He had a hat pulled over a shaved head. His face was weathered and wrinkled with age, but there was something familiar there that she could not quite place. For a second, their eyes met, and then his gaze immediately dropped back down to the dirt in front of him, working to dig a weed out of the flowerbed. Before Lucy could scrutinize him more, the door opened.   
“Lucy.” Never before had Lizzie’s height seemed so intimidating. Her eyes were cold, jaw set.  
“Hi.” Her smile came out as more of a grimace, fingers coming together unconsciously to play with her rings. Lizzie just stared at her, expression unmovable and chilly as a glacier, mouth pressed into a firm line. Lucy forced her hands to separate, though her fingers still twitched anxiously at her sides, eyes darting around the street. “Can we talk?” 
Lizzie looked as if she found the suggestion just about as desirable as drinking spoiled milk, but after a moment of consideration sighed, and pushed the door open the rest of the way so that Lucy could come inside. 
Lizzie had clearly been hard at work decorating and furnishing the house, rugs already lining the floors, the sitting room adorned with plush couches, chairs, and carved wooden tables. Picture frames were hung up on the walls, little bits and bobs purposefully positioned on the mantle above the fireplace. 
Lizzie shut the door behind her, shoes clicking against the floorboards as she strode past her and into the sitting room. 
“What do you want?”
Off to a great start, then, Lucy thought dejectedly. “I just…thought that we should talk about…things. Just you and me.”
“I’m not getting rid of the baby,” Lizzie said immediately, head tilted up stubbornly, defensiveness straining her voice. “So if that’s what you’ve come to discuss, you might as well leave–”
“That’s not why I’m here.” She tried hard to temper her hurt that Lizzie really thought she’d come all this way just to twist her arm into getting an abortion even if she didn’t want to.
Before either of them could say anymore, there was a knock at the door. 
“For Christ’s sake,” Lizzie growled, stomping past Lucy back to the door and wrenching it open. “What?”
“Begging your pardon, Miss. Stark, but could I use your phone for a moment?” the gardener was standing there, mopping at his brow and ringing his dirty gloves in his hands. “I’d like to ring my wife to let her know I may be a little late getting home this evening.”
“Yes, yes,” Lizzie stepped aside, pointing towards the entryway to the kitchen. “It’s in the back.”
Lucy waited until he had wandered into the other room and she could hear the distant, incomprehensible hum of his voice on the phone before speaking again. “The house looks nice.”
Lizzie smirked. “Tommy paid for it.”
“I know.”
Her smile dropped, and Lucy shifted from foot to foot, aware that she was doing little to help in the mending of things between them. “Can we sit?” she asked, nodding to the couch in the sitting room. Lizzie looked like she’d rather do just about anything else, standing there with her arms crossed over her chest, lips rubbing together. But finally she sighed, arms dropping to her sides. 
“Sure.”
She followed Lizzie’s lead over to the dark green sofa, sinking down into the cushions on the opposite side from her, ample space left between them. Lucy’s hands rang together, unable to stop her fingers from fumbling with her rings. Lizzie’s expectant expression only served to make her more nervous, bubbles of anxiety lodging into her throat and making it hard for her to recall the words she’d been practicing over and over in her head on the walk over there.  
“Right. Look, I just thought…given that we’re going to be…I mean, I just wanted to tell you that, um…now that you’re having Tommy’s baby…I–”
“For fuck’s sake, will you just spit it out?”
She flinched, feeling her shoulders draw in at the way Lizzie snapped at her. Being yelled at or spoken to harshly wasn’t exactly new to her, but there was something about the impatience in Lizzie’s tone that made her feel like a young child being scolded. As if she wasn’t already doing enough damage, here she was, coming into this poor woman’s home and annoying her with nonsensical ramblings. 
Before she could stutter some more and continue to make a complete fool of herself, there was the sound of footsteps approaching from the kitchen. The gardener appeared, pulling his cap on over his bald head, giving a respectful nod to Lizzie.
“Thank you for letting me use your phone, Miss. Stark. I’ll be heading back outside, now.”
“Of course. If you need any water or anything, help yourself,” she waved a hand towards the sink and pantry in the kitchen. The gardener nodded, his eyes tracking to Lucy before quickly looking away, shuffling towards the door. They both waited until it had swung closed behind him before saying anything. 
“Look,” Lucy took a deep breath, managing to pull herself somewhat together. “I just…wanted you to know that I don’t have any intentions of coming between Tommy and the baby. And I wanted to tell you that–only if you’re comfortable with it, of course–but I’m happy to help in any way that I can.” She forced herself to meet Lizzie’s eyes. Her face was still set in a harsh frown, but some of the coldness had seeped out of her eyes before she looked down at her hands, folded carefully in her lap. “I know how Tommy can be sometimes,” Lucy continued, still keeping her gaze on Lizzie despite the other woman still staring downwards. “So if you ever…if you and the baby aren’t getting what you need from him, you’re always welcome to come to me instead. Sometimes I can be a little more successful in convincing him of things.”
Lizzie’s gaze lifted to meet hers, any warmth that had started to seep into her eyes gone, leaving nothing but cold steel in its wake. 
“If you really wanted to help, you would leave Tommy and never come back.”
Lucy’s lips parted, shrinking in on herself subconsciously. The words were hurled at her like a rock, and ready as she thought that she was to hear them, they still pierced painfully in her chest. Now it was her turn to look down, staring at the plain golden rings that encircled her fingers. She made no attempt to defend herself. No effort to argue against Lizzie’s demand. This was why she was here, right? To let Lizzie punish her for the selfish choice to still stay with Tommy. To keep him from truly having a proper family with Lizzie.
And Lizzie was correct, of course. Leaving would be the right thing to do. The less selfish action. Hell, if she left right now, she could head over to the house, pack up her things, and be on a train out of the city before the sun had even set. Yes, Tommy may be sad, at least at first. But he would get over it. With Lizzie by his side, it wouldn’t be long before he would forget that Lucy had ever even existed in the first place. 
Lucy wrapped her arms around herself, as if she could somehow hug the horrid thoughts out of her. No, no. That wasn’t true; Tommy would be distraught if she left. He wouldn’t just get over it. He loved her. He didn't want to be with Lizzie. He said…
But that one cursed phase continued to spin in her head, repeating over and over again:
But maybe if I wasn’t here…
Beside her on the couch, Lizzie shuddered, turning away, knuckles pressed to her lips, twitching and fidgeting. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” She said finally, and before Lucy could respond, she launched up out of her seat, starting to pace across the room. “It's just so unfair. I’m having his baby, and he won’t even consider…” she trailed off, shooting Lucy an ashamed look. All the venom and iciness that had been in her eyes a moment ago was gone, and for a moment, Lucy felt as though she were staring into a mirror of her own guilt and pain. Lizzie wetted her lips, shoulders lowering. “When Polly told me I was pregnant, I started to hope,” she said, finally, as if trying to offer some sort of explanation. 
“Lizzie…” Lucy started sympathetically. Her hand rested on the cushion beside her in silent invitation, and after a moment of looking her up and down warily, Lizzie shuffled back over and plopped down beside her. “You can’t force someone to love you,” Lucy said after a long pause during which she internally debated whether or not to actually speak the words. But the venom of jealousy did not return to Lizzie's face. Instead she just merely looked to the floor, expression crestfallen in a way that made Lucy’s heart hurt. 
Guilt gnawed at her like a dog with a bone, chipping away at her bit by bit. The irrational part of her still blamed herself. Still battered her with endless internal torment. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to shove away the continued mantra of: But maybe if I wasn’t here…But maybe if I wasn’t here…But maybe if I wasn’t here…
“Even if I didn’t exist, or was wiped off the face of the earth at this very second, it still might not change the way that he feels. I’m not saying that to be cruel.” Reaching out, tentatively, like she would a skittish horse, she settled her hand on top of Lizzie’s where it rested on the firm green cushion between them. “I’m saying it because if you’re only having this baby as some…attempt to force Tommy to fall in love with you, you might not get what you want. And that wouldn’t be fair to the baby. Or you. Or Tommy. But, if you do genuinely want the baby…”
“I do,” Lizzie nodded vigorously, the hand not covered by Lucy’s going to press against her still flat stomach, and Lucy could see the genuine love that crossed her face. Lizzie had always liked children. She’d always been incredibly good with Charlie, and often at family gatherings she would take time to sit and play with John’s kids.
“Okay,” Lucy said. “Then we’ll figure out some way to make this all work. I know that Tommy is dedicated to supporting both of you, and will want to be involved in their life as much as he can. And I…” it felt impossibly selfish for her to ask what she was about to, but she forced herself to ask anyway. The worst that Lizzie could say was no, after all. “I’d like to be involved too, at least just a little. But I can understand if you don’t want that and I can keep my distance, if you’d rather. I don’t have any intentions of trying to…take away or usurp your position as the baby’s mother. I just want to help.”      
Lizzie’s head tilted slightly, considering with her eyes focused faraway on the opposite wall. “I suppose…I suppose that would be fine. Tommy will insist on you being around anyway.”
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to include me if you’d really rather not,” it would hurt. A lot. But she didn’t want to force Lizzie into anything, either. “It’s your choice who helps you to raise your baby.”
“Yes, but it’s his too, isn’t it? He’ll want you included,” she shrugged. “I suppose that I could use as much help as I can get.” She finally looked back at Lucy. “And you’ve always been so good with Charlie.”
It was Lucy’s turn to look away then, bashfully staring down at her shoes. Beside her, Lizzie shifted, and when she spoke again, some of the bitterness had returned to her voice. 
“He loves you so much.”
Lucy felt her brows pull together slightly, her guard, that she’d dropped as Lizzie’s iciness had thawed, cautiously starting to raise back up. When she lifted her head, Lizzie was looking away from her again. 
“I suggested that he split up with you, did you know that? When I told him about the baby. And he wouldn’t even consider it. Not even for a second.” Her gaze shifted back to Lucy. “It’s hard not to hate you for that.”
Lucy pulled her hands back, settling them in her lap so that she could unconsciously fiddle with her rings again. “I’m sorry–”   
“No; don’t apologize. It’s,” Lizzie squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s not your fault,” she opened them again. “It’s my problem. And I am trying not to hold it against you. I promise I am.” She gave her a small, humorless smile. “I was doing pretty well at it until that day by the canal.”
“It was so selfish of us to take you down there. I’m sorry. We weren’t thinking.”
“Neither was I.”
Lucy nodded, fingers flexing. “I mean it, you know. Tell me if there’s anything that you need from either of us, and I’ll do what I can,” her shoulders raised in a tiny shrug. “The three of us are in this together, now.”
“Thank you.” Lizzie murmured. “I appreciate that. Really. It’s just so,” she hesitated, searching for the word, and finally simply settled on, “hard.”
Lucy nodded. Outside, she could hear the sounds of cars. “It’s difficult for me too.”
Lizzie shot her a quizzical look, and Lucy squirmed in her seat uncomfortably. 
“I can’t have children,” she explained in a soft voice, hoping that would be enough clarification as to what she meant. Lizzie’s eyes widened. 
“Really?”
Lucy nodded. Lizzie’s brows pinched, pale hand reaching out to rest her long fingers on her knee. 
“I’m sorry.”
Lucy just shrugged. “I’ve mostly made peace with it, I think.”
“I always wondered why you and Tommy didn’t have any of your own.”
“Yeah, well, that’s why.” It certainly wasn’t for lack of trying. She had made a half joke, many years ago, that if there was a way for her to get pregnant, Tommy surely would have figured it out by now.  
She looked back at Lizzie. I suppose we both have something that the other wants, then.
The clock on the wall chimed, and when she looked in its direction, it was to find that far more time had passed while talking to Lizzie than she’d thought. 
“I, um, I should get going. I promised Tommy I would be back at the office before lunch.”
“Right,” Lizzie withdrew her hand from her knee and sighed. “I don’t suppose you have any idea when this mess with the Italians will all be over, do you?”
“Soon, I think.” I hope, she corrected. 
“Have you beheaded any more Italians lately?”
Lucy felt a tiny smile prick at the edges of her lips. “Not yet.”
One side of Lizzie’s lips quirked upwards. “Personal feelings about you aside, I am glad that my baby will have you to be there for them.”
A rush of emotion washed over Lucy at that, looking away with a small smile as they both stood. Fumbling with her rings one last time before letting her hands drop to her sides, she raised her head to look up at Lizzie. “Thank you for letting me be involved. Really. It means a lot.” 
Lizzie nodded, and walked her to the door. 
“I’ll talk to you later?” Lucy asked, a teeny, tiny bead of hope, that maybe the friendship they’d been on their way to building before this whole mess had blown up in their faces could be salvaged, had begun to bloom despite her attempts to temper it. 
“Yeah,” Lizzie nodded. “Take care of yourself.”
“You too.” Pulling her cap out of her pocket, she reached for the door handle and twisted it open. 
She barely had time to process the towering, dark suit-clad figure standing on the other side of it, or the cocked hat on his head and the toothpick wedged between his teeth, before a hand, fingers adorned with rings, crashed in a vicious backhand across her face. The side of her head slammed hard into the doorframe, and she went sprawling to the ground, dazed, black spots appearing across her vision. Somewhere behind her, she heard Lizzie scream. 
She hardly was able to make out the figure of Luca Changretta, still looming over her in the doorway, before his booted foot swung into her face, and everything went dark. 
∗ ∗ ∗
Lizzie braced a hand on the wall of the narrow hallway leading from the front door into the sitting room, staring in open-mounted horror at where Lucy lay in a crumpled, unmoving heap in the entryway. Luca stared down at the little redhead for a moment, checking to make sure that she was truly unconscious, before he lifted his head, and met Lizzie’s eyes with a huge, face splitting grin. 
“Hello, Lizzie.” 
There were three men crowded in behind him, and behind his elbow, she spotted the face of her gardener peering in at her. 
The phone call. She only vaguely could recall him coming in, the hum of his voice from the kitchen while she was busy with Lucy in the sitting room. Oh, God… 
Staggering back a few steps, she turned to run towards the backdoor, but only got so far as the sitting room before skidding to a halt at the crunch of wood splintering as the door was kicked in, two Italians shouldering past the wrecked wood to block her way out. 
“Get that to the car,” Luca snapped his fingers, nodding at Lucy. “And don’t forget to bind her hands and feet. I want one of you watching her at all times in case she wakes up.” 
“No–” Lizzie took a step forward, as if there was anything she could possibly do to stop them. Luca’s gaze shot back up to her, and with another grin, he stepped over Lucy while the men behind him grabbed her by the shoulders and started to drag her away.
“How lucky for you that she was the one who opened the door,” he started conversationally. Lizzie’s hands were shaking, her knees unsteady. Luca took an advancing step closer, fully entering the sitting room, and Lizzie took another back in response, keeping ample space between. Luca seemed unbothered by the action. 
“It’s nice to finally make your acquaintance. My brother was so taken with you, he wrote about you often enough in his letters to me, I feel like I almost know you myself.” The sparkle of taunting glee was still in his eyes, but underneath, Lizzie saw fiery rage. “You do remember my little brother, don’t you, Lizzie?” 
The mention of Angel was enough to make her stomach turn with guilt. Poor, poor Angel. She’d been trying to get over Tommy, since at the time he’d been engaged to Grace and happy with his newborn boy. And Angel had been there, this sweet Italian boy who doted on her, and who she had genuinely thought that she’d started to love. 
But not enough. Not enough for her to quit her job with the Shelbys so that they could be together. Not enough to keep her from breaking up with him when tensions rose between the two families. Not enough for her to mourn all that long after John and Arthur slit his throat. Not enough for her to stop working for his killers. Not enough to say no when Tommy and Lucy had started coming to her again for sex. 
“Yes. Yes, of course I remember Angel. I’m so sorry about what happened–”
Luca continued to grin, but his eyes were deep dark pits of hate. “And yet, you’ve had no problem running around with the men who killed him.” He took another step closer. 
She was shaking like a leaf and didn’t know how to stop. Tears started to roll down her cheeks. “I’m sorry–” she tried again.
Like a jaguar, Luca suddenly lunged at her with inhuman speed. His hand latched onto her throat, her back slamming into the wall hard enough to knock the wind from her lungs, and immediate panic zigzagged through her. 
No, no, not my baby. Please don’t hurt my baby.
“I don’t want to hear your fucking apologies!” he roared in her face, hot breath fanning across her cheeks. “I want my fucking family back!”
“Please,” she managed to catch her breath enough to be able to speak, but his hand was tight enough around her throat that it made drawing in air difficult. “Please, don’t hurt me.”
“Mr. Changretta.” It was her gardener, hovering by the sofa, clutching his dirty gloves. Luca growled in annoyance, fingers flexing against Lizzie’s throat. 
“Matteo, get this man paid and out of here–”
“Mr. Changretta, she’s pregnant,” the gardener interpreted. “I heard Winters say something about it.”
Luca froze, his eyes shifting back to Lizzie, like a shark that had just caught the scent of blood in the water. His jaw twitched, teeth grinding together. She could see something click behind his eyes, and her terror tripled. 
“Whose?” he asked, grip tightening around her neck. If she made it out of this alive, she would for certain have bruises all up and down the column of her pale throat. 
“Please…” she sobbed. 
“Tommy Shelby bought you this fucking house…” Luca’s eyes swept across the sitting room. “Despite you recently leaving his employment.”
“I’m sorry–”
“Is it his!?”
He’s going to kill me, she thought, panic intensifying. “Yes,” she whispered, tears still rolling down her cheeks.
Luca laughed, and it was the worst sound Lizzie had ever heard. “Well, well. How nice that is for you. Congratulations,” his words dripped with sarcasm and venom. “Still a whore, I see. No matter what you prefer to fancy yourself as these days.” He looked over his shoulder, towards the front door where his men had taken Lucy out to where Lizzie had to presume the car was. His face swung back around to hers. “Does Winters know? Is that why she came here?”
Lizzie just whimpered, pressing her lips together. His fingers were digging so hard against her windpipe that she doubted she could have spoken if she’d wanted to. Luca’s face contracted, smile dropping way to a look of pure hatred, his hands squeezed hard enough to completely cut off any more oxygen, and Lizzie let out a soft choking sound. But a moment later, he let her go, and her head fell forward as she coughed and wheezed, lungs expanding as she hastily sucked in air. Luce seized her by the cheeks instead, tilting her head up until the back of her skull rested against the wall. 
“Hm…in light of this…new information, I’m going to change my plans for you. You see, I was planning to let my boys here,” he nodded to the men guarding the back exit, “smack you around a little. I would like to kill you for this. And maybe someday I will.” He leaned forward, until their noses were almost touching. “After Mr. Shelby is dead. Maybe I’ll kill you and your child. Maybe I’ll kill you and take the child into my family.” He shrugged. “I suppose that we’ll just have to wait and see.” 
Lizzie felt a burst of frantic protectiveness for the tiny life growing inside of her, manifesting itself in a ferocious glare that made Luca chuckle. 
“But not today. I made a deal, you see, with Mr. Shelby, not to harm any children. Vile as his spawn may be. Our people have traditions of honor. I’d hate for him to think that I’d gone back on my word.” His face retreated from hers, though his hand remained, squeezing crushingly at her cheeks, pushing her head painfully against the wall. “As for Miss. Winters, she’s coming with us. She and I have unfinished business. You can tell Tommy that we took her. Or not.”
Lizzie’s eyes widened at the suggestion; at the choice he was offering her. 
“The decision is yours. Either way,” Luca shrugged, “he won’t be able to find her until it’s too late.” He laughed. “Really, you should be thanking me. Seems like by getting rid of her, I may be solving a very irksome problem for you.”
When she said and did nothing, his smile fell, and he leaned in close again, speaking in a hoarse, hissing whisper.
“Remember, once all the Shelbys are gone, I’ll be coming for you.” His hand dropped suddenly away, her head falling forward and away from the wall in surprise at no longer having his palm holding her in place. 
“Please, don’t–” she started to beg. But Luca’s hand snapped forward, smashing the back of her head brutally against the wall, and the world fell away to blackness. 
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organised-disaster · 5 months
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Peak character description: narrator gushing about how pretty the person literally trying to kill them is
No joke:
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behold: my least favorite string of words in the entirety of Tears of the Kingdom.
#totk critical#totk#tloz#gerudos#when will my brain return from the imprisoning war....#I just stumbled upon it again doing research yesterday and....#there's so many layers as to why it aggravates me#that it's spoken from the perspective of a masked woman as to embody all gerudos while removing her own identity#in the context of her loyalty to rauru as well#that giving birth to a bad man makes you responsible for his actions (he's not a toddler anymore he's an adult ok)#or more metaphorically that your initial conflict with hyrule makes you Sinful and cursed and you must Feel Bad Now *shame shame*#that she's passing on that ageless guilt with no expiration date onto the shoulders of *a teenager* and it's considered GOOD???#(wind waker shaking crying right now)#ALL OF THAT to prop her up to swear her loyalty to the people planning to go murder their ancient king (sure he's a Bad but still???)#using some sort of weird ass original sin scenario that is arguably not any gerudo's fault but Ganondorf's#(or if it is then it's not shown so ???)#the vibes are so so so off I just really !!!!! don't like#this is stuff like this that makes me reject that it's a good story about alliances being formed in good faith#because this is just manipulative#maybe the alliance angle everyone's stronger together was the intention but the execution is another story entirely#gerudos never benefited from ganondorf's actions also#so it's not even a case of making reparations for the way you benefit from systemic oppression due to your ancestor's actions#gerudos won literally nothing in ganondorf's war#apparently he even subjugated them if they weren't on his side (like.... a king would.... not to excuse it but the double standard here)#so it just instrumentalizes the ageless sin of motherhood + suffering under a bad monarch billion of years ago for war#so uhhh.... yeah that's not... that's pretty bad imo#the gerudo girl could have went “hey girl this man used us and still hurt us to this day let's kick his ass once and for all”#and this would have been a different story entirely#a little cheap but not.... That Bad
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waywardstation · 5 months
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WIP FRIDAY
I apologize for getting this out two days late, I’ve been busy with lots of packing and events! But I have a little reprieve, so I wanted to post another WIP; this one is from Heart Full, Bowl Empty.
BE AWARE THAT THIS SEGMENT INVOLVES A CONVERSATION REVOLVING AROUND UNWILLING BUT INTENTIONAL STARVATION. I know there are people who say they can’t read this fic because of themes like this, so be aware of this before reading this WIP!!
I included this snippet in today’s WIP because I have like three versions of the entire segment this snippet is from. I feel like it’s a really important segment with a really important conversation, and I’ve had a hard time balancing all the emotions the way I want to between Ingo and Akari, with frustration, sadness, anger, and empathy, to realistically get them to the resolution I want at the end of it.
The final version will probably only include a few parts from this particular segment.
Enjoy!!
—————
“I knew it! You’re doing it again!” Akari’s eyebrows scrunched, trying to understand through the frustration. “You said you wouldn’t!”
“Circumstances will improve soon.” Clearly done with the conversation, that was all Ingo said, but it was confession enough that he had fallen back on his word. Shame contaminated his voice, but if there was any regret, he hid it well.
“No, it won’t!” They were not even half-way through winter yet. “And you know it won’t!”
Ingo said nothing as the kits carefully moved around his slumped form, finding comfortable places to settle around him. She didn’t know if he intended to snuff the conversation out with angered silence, or if he was just too exhausted to care about arguing with her anymore. If it wasn’t for his small occasional signs of movement or acknowledgement, she’d think he was actually sleeping.
Akari carefully stepped into the nesting layers, moving to sit down next to Ingo. She settled with her back against the cavern wall, pulling her knees close as a few kits shuffled around to accommodate her. “You know I’m right.”
Huffing out an irritated sigh and nothing more, it didn’t seem like Ingo had any intentions to engage with her argument anymore.
“You couldn’t even pull yourself up over the ridge,” She prodded at him again, trying to motivate more conversation out of him. “I had to help you!”
“There are many, many factors that go into that.” A reluctant answer, perhaps a reflexive attempt to quell her worry; Ingo feebly rubbed his wrapped hand, almost as a display for his excuse.
“I’ve seen you do more when you’ve been hurt worse.” Akari retorted, a little softer now but still cold.
Ingo’s eyes remained closed, though his hardened expression implied that it came across as more accusatory than she’d intended. But perhaps it was precisely the time to be accusatory.
“Ingo, you’re so tired all the time now – you stopped coming to the training grounds because you just can’t make the trips all the time anymore! And you’re sleeping so much more than you used to, and it’s like you’re always hungry all the time, even though all I see you doing anymore is gathering food!” Akari’s voice grew more jagged as she continued to jab at him, entirely uninterrupted.
It was getting difficult. With Ingo’s tunic still sopping by the bucket, still somewhat red from the exhausted effort of washing out the blood, it could not hide the ribs that pressed out just a little bit more, or help fill out what the waistline had lost under the loosening belt. The abject dread of directly acknowledging that was too much.
“And- and look! You aren’t even willing to hold a conversation with me anymore, and I don’t know if it’s because you just won’t, or because you can’t!” The kits shifted uncomfortably as Akari retreated back into her own frustration instead. “People think you’re sick, Ingo! They’re asking me about you! What are you doing?”
The exhausted man remained where he laid in the nesting material, only moving his hands to rub at his face and sigh — a deep, forced sigh that swelled his side before releasing. Akari almost didn’t think he’d answer her, but with some effort, he propped himself up first onto his elbows, then slumped forward. The teen watched him run shaky fingers through his hair as he sat next to her.
“…I don’t know what I should do.” The guilt. The weary guilt cracked his voice and tore Akari’s anger down to heartache.
#ref for fic#BE AWARE THIS IS DISCUSSING INTENTIONAL BUT UNWILLING STARVATION#tw starvation#just in case#cause I know not everyone vibes with this story#and I’ll say it’s been weird myself returning to these segments I wrote months ago and re-reading them#AND TO BE MORE CAREFUL I talk about a personal situation sort of dealing with this below#a lot has happened in the timeframe of originally writing this and coming back to this#at the end of fall I got very very sick and it lasted well into February#I unwillingly shed thirty-five pounds because I could not eat#and I didn’t notice at all until I stopped and realized just how tight I had to make my work belt#even when family members pointed it out during the holidays when they’d hug me#it wasn’t until someone got very concerned and did something about it that I realized just how bad it was#I’m sure people remember when I mentioned I had gastritis#that’s what all this was I just never really went into detail about how bad it truely was here#so coming back and reading this segment specifically#having written it months before I went through any of this#felt really really weird and a little uncomfortable#I edited Akari’s accusations a little to fit my situation more about a month back#because I did not realize just how much more stuff like this would make you want to sleep#at least in my experience#but it’s been very very just#strange I guess coming back to this#it doesn’t make me want to not work on HFBE anymore it just feels very weird
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chirpsythismorning · 11 months
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The Bizarre Love Triangle playlist is finally here!
📝 ☎️ 🎨 🛼 🌈⏮️ 🫀 💡
I've been working on this playlist for almost a year now, sharing piece by piece slowly with gifs accompanied by lyrics, which are meant to encapsulate what I think each of these characters were feeling at the time. This playlist goes in order narratively, so if you want the full experience, be sure to click start below to see where it all begins!
START ▶️
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Tracklist
You're the Inspiration
Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow
This Is the Day
The Great Pretender
You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin'
Who Can It Be Now?
I Need You
Bizarre Love Triangle
You've Really Got a Hold of Me
I'm Not In Love
Words
Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word
Dust in the Wind
I've Been Losing You
I Want to Break Free
Enjoy the Silence
Secret
Always on My Mind
The Chain
It's Too Late
How Can I Be Sure?
Alone Again (Naturally)
Alone
Just the Two of Us
The Promise
Never My Love
At Your Best (You Are Love)
Landslide
Wouldn't It Be Nice
The Flame
Is This Love
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
Ever Fallen In Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've?) - BONUS TRACK
I Know There's Something Going On
Slippin' Through My Fingers
More Than Words
If I Can't Have You
What You Won't Do for Love
Total Eclipse of the Heart
Time For Me To Fly
I Will Survive
Blue Moon
If You Leave
Somebody to Love
Don't Dream It's Over
#bizarre love triangle playlist#stranger things#happy stranger things day#a present from me to you!#byler#platonic elmike#willel twins#mike wheeler#will byers#el hopper#music#things to know:#-- you have to be familiar with the color theory to understand why I chose: red for el / blue for mike / yellow for will#-- some songs fit perfectly for the moment while others only have like one or two lines that fit so keep this in mind#-- there are a few songs that have titles that match the title/context of the songs that follow them and that was merely a coincidence#-- it would've been cool if el getting track 11 / will getting track 12 was a coincidence but that was entirely intentional <3#-- will and el both have 13 songs while mike has 17 songs#that's bc this playlist actually started out as a mike playlist with the same title bc bizarre love triangle is just literally his pov#but then i came across songs that fit really well with both will and el's pov and so i switched it to a trilogy of sorts#there also just happen to be a lot more songs that match with mike's pov more than the other two#el's pov is a lot of questioning whether your s/o loves you back and the shift from that to letting go and being happy/moving on#so there's only so many songs that fit into that#will's pov is sort of loving wholeheartedly in the most pure way while also feeling like that person will never return those feelings#there are a lot of love songs from that pov but more often than not they have lyrics that fit more with mike's pov than will's#there's definitely songs on here that fit with both will and mike's pov but it just turned out it fit mike's more in the moment#mike's pov is sort of a mixture of both will and el's where he assumes his love is unrequited / has fears about letting go of what he knows#mike's pov is also not in the forefront in s4 as much as we're used to it being previously so this offers a nice glimpse into his thoughts#-- the bonus track contains the pov of the entire bizarre love triangle and it's epic#-- also keep an eye out for some special features!#Spotify
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fideidefenswhore · 2 months
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the tudors (2007-2010) / wolf hall (2009) / henry viii & the king's men (2020) / eustace chapuys to the emperor (june 1535) / the other boleyn girl (2008) / the downfall and execution of a tudor queen (2023) / eustace chapuys to the emperor (april 1536) / henry viii, stratford festival production (2019) / wolf hall (2009) / elizabeth i & her enemies (2017) / the mirror & the light (2020) / becoming elizabeth (2022) / the mirror & the light (2020) / the tudors (2007-2010) / the mirror & the light (2020) / the tudors (2007-2010)
#'she sees who is the master now' top ten cremuel freak moments#wolf hall crit#web weaving#(repeating the sources is kind of ...well. repetitive#but for the purpose of critique; necessary#altho you can argue this is just cromwell sort of...calcifying? callusing? over time. whatever the word is#but if he truly believes that elizabeth is going to 'live to thank him'......#again idk if this is intentional lol#mantel going 'not hardly' with that line from margaret pole#i don't think she meant them to be connected tbh#bcus that sounds more like plausible deniability for himself.#elizabeth won't remember (you were not yet five). but/so she'll live to thank him#granted. he has no reason to expect she would ever become queen#he dies before even the 1543 act so as far as he knew it wasn't possible 1536-#but you know. what she would have learned from parker and alesius... maybe even kat herself. despite cromwell's patronage#not hardly#i think it folds into his 'i will protect the gospel better'#it's not guilt or even really the suggestion of guilt. he is very explicitly not thinking about anne as he promotes her daughter's educatio#had elizabeth indeed lived to 'thank' him... hmm. delulu. but entertaining it....#i mean; it's almost impossible. she would've thought of him as mary thought of cranmer. if not even more intensely . because what was#done to catherine and mary was not equal to what happened to anne and by extension elizabeth#there were similarities but it was not on the same level
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“You little nark! get out of my head!” implying V didn’t want Uzi in her mind and wasn’t willingly knocked out for the whole process. 
UZI 👏  WAS 👏  WORRIED 👏 THAT 👏  WHATEVER 👏  WAS 👏  INFECTING 👏  N 👏  WAS 👏   ALSO 👏  INFECTING 👏  V 👏  AND 👏  SHE 👏  KNOWS 👏  DAMN 👏  WELL 👏  THAT 👏  V 👏  WOULD 👏  MUCH 👏  RATHER 👏  OVERHEAT 👏  THAN 👏  ADMIT 👏  IT 👏  AND 👏  ASK 👏  FOR 👏  HELP❗❗❗
So naturally she knocked V offline. The question is how.....Probably N? Probably N.
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novelconcepts · 8 months
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It’s always so funny to me when someone can’t tell the difference between an actor who’s over the top and an actor who is doing an intentionally over the top performance. The former can be super aggravating, I get it—but the latter can be so goddamn effective. Especially when you know the actor already, know they’re fully capable of giving normal human facial expressions and chill line deliveries. And they’re out here doing The Absolute Most all of a sudden? It’s for a reason, dude. It’s almost always for a reason. And once you can see past the camp on the surface, it’s so much fun digging in to what emotions the character is actually hiding.
#this is mainly about servant (and to a lesser degree YJ)#like Ambrose in servant is (pardon me) serving SUCH a chaotic performance#but having known her for decades I know full well that’s on purpose#Dorothy is over the top because she HAS to be. because she’s built walls so high around her own grief that the denial comes out in Crazy#and she fully thinks she’s the only one paying attention. the only sane one in the room.#you get glimpses of her being ‘normal’ in flashbacks#still a little Much. still a product of wealth and expectation. detached from reality to a degree.#but the character she becomes after the tragedy is. A Character.#it’s not the woman she was before. she bricked that woman up. she’s taken her performance from television and made a baby blanket out of it#it’s so. so intentional.#and you sort of get a similar thing going with Hewson in early eps of YJ#totally different starting block. Van doesn’t start out traumatized. but she does start out Big#she’s loud she’s silly she’s being intentionally wacky to get laughs out of people#and some of it comes off a little cringe. because it’s a kid playing a role#this is how you like me. I’m gay. I’m butch. I’m hiding.#if I’m a jester you’ll see what I want you to and nothing more. that’s the plan. it’s working. don’t look at the goalie.#not as a person.#but as the show goes on (or as she’s spending time with taissa) she slows down some. quiets. she’s snarkier. holding tension differently.#Hewson starts the performance at an 11 so they can really delve into who Van becomes when the mask is off#when there’s no point in playing the class clown#when it’s like. ah yeah. here’s the kid who grew up too fast.#here’s the kid who’s scared to death. and angry. and willing to fight to live.#it’s not an overacting thing. it’s VAN overacting to keep her secrets#watch the face so you miss what the hands are doing#actors man. actors are fucking cool. storytelling is fucking cool.#deconstructing the illusion is my favorite thing#(anyway still watching servant and it’s still really. Something Else.)
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