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#he actually wanted to save me from the ghost lol
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Moondrop wants to give you a big Hug! ❤️
Heres without the red beam on his hands
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outoftheseine · 1 year
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- JOEL MILLER FIC RECS -
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(most of these fics are age-gap romance. some fics have mature content (+18) so minors please respect the authors and do not interact). also please beware of the canon trigger warnings (violence, language, guns, death, blood etc.))
part 2 | main masterlist
SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS
one thing i am missing • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @joelscruff (fluff, smut)
to do the right thing • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @pedgeitopascal (very angsty, tw: abortion and ppd, childbirth)
if the door wasn't shut • joel miller x platonic!reader
↳ by @heartpascal (very angsty)
joel miller x feral!fem!reader
↳ by @ohraicodoll (angst, lots of blood, sometimes gore, reader has a given nickname, smut)
if he wanted to • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @sl-ut (angsty, tw: mentions of suicide and sa, drug use)
twenty years later • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @yelena-bellova (angst)
weakness • joel miller x fem!reader part two
↳ by @pedgeitopascal (fluff, little angst, smut)
the stable girl • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @guess-my-next-obsession (mature, angst, fluff)
friendly fire • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (angst, smut)
uneven odds • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @theetherealbloom (angst, fluff, smut, anxiety)
burning in a hopeless dream • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @tightjeansjavi (angst, implied smut)
ONE-SHOTS/BLURBS
from love and life • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @bubbles-for-all-of-us (child birth, fluff)
adjustments • joel miller x fem!teacher!reader
by @softlyspector (fluff, smut, mentions of dead loved ones, tw: mentions of suicide)
kiss it better • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @morningbluebell (mostly fluff)
why can't i breathe? • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @oliviajdjarin (fluff, flustered joel)
no time to die • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @davosmymaster (very angsty, hurt/comfort, chef's kiss, so good)
she's a gun • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @cowgurrrl (fluff)
darlin' • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @charnelhouse (angst, tw: sexual assault and mentions of suicide, smut, hurt/comfort)
alone and foresaken • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @chelseasdagger (smut, very good smut actually)
once again in your arms • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @foli-vora (angst, tw: loss of a child, fluff)
too late • joel miller x reader
↳ by @alloftheimagines (angst, injuries, hurt/comfort)
don't let me drown • joel miller x reader
↳ by @alloftheimagines (angst, hurt/comfort, tw: drowning, some nudity but nothing explicit)
nightmares • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @youlightmeupfinn (tw: panic attacks, nightmare, hurt/comfort)
saving • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @youlightmeupfinn (angst, hurt/comfort, joel being an asshole)
a house in nebraska • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @highdramas (angsty, heavy feeling of nostalgia, mentions of sexual interactions)
spring breeze • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @thedgeoftheuniverse (fluff, hurt/comfort)
for you, anything • joel miller x reader
↳ by @mellowsaturns (fluff, sick!reader, domesticty)
perfectly wrong • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @psychedelic-ink (enemies to lovers, smut)
domesticty looks good on you • joel miller x reader
↳ by @girlscull (sooo fluffy)
ghosts of his past • joel miller x reader
↳ by @lol-im-done (very angsty, made me cry)
soft touches • joel miller x reader
↳ by @theeoriginals (fluff, hurt/comfort)
close call • joel miller x reader
↳ by @rogueonestan (hurt/comfort, angst)
first kill • joel miller x reader
↳ by @alloftheimagines (angst, hurt/comfort)
illusory light • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @lavendertales (angst, injuries, fluff)
playing house • joel miller x reader
↳ by @me-and-your-husband (some angst, smut)
try to love me, honey please • joel miller x reader
↳ by @peterhollandkait (hurt/comfort, angst, sad and soft joel, mentions of blood and death)
confused warmth • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @rise-my-angel (angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut)
soft spot • joel miller x gn!reader
↳ by @orangevtae (very fluffy, some hurt/comfort, sunshine x grumpy)
love in the time of cordyceps • joel millet x fem! reader
↳ by @sameheart-sameblood (angst, fluff, mentions of blood)
one bed • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @frannyzooey (good old one bed trope, explicit)
sleeping bag • joel miller x reader
↳ by @quin-ns (very fluffy)
lavender haze • joel miller x pregnant!fem!reader
↳ by @forever-rogue (soo fluffy, made my heart flutter)
intent • joel miller x fem!reader
↳ by @forever-rogue (angst, joel is an asshole, fluff)
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thesmollestsnek · 1 year
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Death echoes
So a while ago, i found this dp x dc post that had a really interesting lore headcanon for Danny’s ghostly wail. Idk if I’ll be able to find it again, I’ll link it here if I do, but essentially it posited that every ghost has something called a “death echo”, which is an ability unique to them based heavily on their deaths. These echoes are the most powerful move in a ghost’s moveset, but they’re also extremely volatile and draining, typically damaging the ghost in some way when used, with Danny’s being his Wail because he died screaming. The original post then went on to some really cool halfa!Jason ideas based on these death echoes, but for this lil snippet with an extremely long intro I’d like to focus on Danny a bit more.
Edit: Apparently I may have extrapolated a lot of the actual lore behind these death echos myself? The inspiration post was a lot longer in my memories. Or I might've mushed multiple posts into one mental box and then forgot lol. So a lot of the actual detail from this point on is seemingly mostly original material? I think? Idk man, sometimes my brain spits out information without giving me any clues as to where it got that information. Anyway, this post got kinda long and since I'm... decently sure this is where I shifted from summarizing @ailithnight's post to writing all my own thoughts I figured here would be a good place to throw the cut lol.
So! with all of the context-for-the-context out of the way, let’s move on to the actual context for what I’m writing cause I can’t be bothered with writing an intro XD
Essentially, this is an au where Danny is an established member of the Justice League, or maybe one of the teen hero teams? I’m a slut for eternal teenager Danny, but maybe he’s enough of a powerhouse to be on the main team despite him both looking and acting like the dumbass fourteen year old he died as. Either way, he’s on a League/League-sanctioned mission and things go bad. Like, everyone-almost-dies bad. And so as a final desperation attack, Danny uses his Wail, a power he’s never told anyone on the league he even has. And it works, and they make it out, but after the fact everyone has. Questions. And because in this au death echoes are deeply personal, Danny dodges those questions, but the league coughbatmancough isn’t satisfied with that. So they push for answers. Answers Danny’s not willing to give, because. In my mind death echoes aren’t just based on how a person died, but also their experience of that death. What their last thoughts were. When Danny died the only thing that he could process beyond just an all-encompassing painpainpainpainpain was the sound of someone screaming. His screaming. And so his death echo is the sound of a fourteen year old child screaming in deathly pain and terror weaponized, which definitely gave the league Even More Questions than they would’ve had already. Which finally brings us to the actual snippet, which is a conversation between John Constantine, who was brought in for his experience with the supernatural once it became clear Danny wasn’t going to talk, and Danny himself. 
~~~~~~~
“So, kid. Batsy tells me you’ve been hiding some of your abilities, wanna tell me what's up with that? Call it an occultist's intuition, but somethin’ tells me you’re not just being stubborn for the hell of it.”
“It’s... complicated. And not anyone’s business, either!”
“Kid...”
“Why does it even matter?! It’s not something I want to or am even able to do on a regular basis! I saved the mission, can’t they just accept that and move on???”
Sighing, Constantine reached up to start massaging his brow. “Kid, you and I both know that ain’t gonna be enough. Now I know that some things are better left alone, but the rest of these idiots? They can’t accept that, Batsy especially. That man’s never left bloody well enough alone in his life”
He looked up just in time to see the otherworldly teen shrink into himself, looking every bit the child he was. “I know but... why? Why do they need to keep asking questions? And why do they only ask the ones that hurt to answer?”
A sharp glance. “The fuck kinda questions are they asking? Batman was speaking in more grunt than word, so I didn’t really catch all the details of what this power you’re supposedly hiding even is.”
Phantom shrinks even more into himself at that, and responds in a voice so small it’s more sigh than speech. “I... I can scream. And it breaks things and pushes people back. But it, it sounds. Bad. And it brings up bad memories and I don’t like to do it or listentoitoreventhinkaboutitandtheywon’tletmeforgetand-”
“Breathe kid. I know you don’t need to but just take a deep breath with me. Don’t you go getting lost in your own head on me now., Constantine reassured the kid automatically, the sheer hopelessness prompting action long before the words themselves could be understood. Then the rest of him caught up, and he had to pause. Looked up at the kid, saw just how distressed he was. A picture was starting to form in the back of his head, and Constantine didn’t like what he saw one bit. A last-resort power that the normally open Phantom was strangely reticent about. A scream so horrible sounding the rest of the league would not to stop asking questions about it. Terrible memories to match said scream. And one truly miserable child who couldn’t bear to even think about any of it. 
“Phantom... is that your Echo? Screaming?”
A miserable nod is his only response, the tears that had been welling up in the kid’s eyes finally starting to fall. Cursing softly to himself, Constantine stood to leave, bracing himself for the Bat’s inevitable questioning. “Well then you just take all the time you need love, and leave the rest to me. I’ll make sure the rest of those idiots know not to ask you about this ever again.”  And with that Constantine turned and strode towards the door, leaving the quietly sobbing child to collect himself in privacy.
~~~~~
I had a whole-ass lore dump conversation between Constantine and Batman planned here, explaining how death echoes are deeply personal, and asking about one is a taboo on par with, potentially even worse than, asking a ghost about their death outright. Because they are formed from an amalgamation of how a ghost died, their last thoughts, and their final emotions, in some ways asking a ghost about their Echo is like asking them to describe their death in painstaking detail. But uhhh... inspiration bug left. So yea. Side note, I’d like to apologize if my depiction of Constantine’s accent was Bad, I’m but a lowly USAmerican whose only exposure to British accents is through tv ^-^’
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moralesmilesanhour · 10 months
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Hello!!! How are you? I’ve been a follower for the past few days and was wondering if I could request something.
I was hoping to request a fic or like give you a prompt for something for miles42 × femreader
So it goes like this- yk those super corny reads that are like the reader's pinning for miles and like sometimes miles finds them annoying but in a cute way but he don't know that her yk? So he's talking to his homeboys about her, talm about some how she's so "annoying, a nuisance" and guess who's behind the wall listening? The reader herself.
So this goes one of two ways- she either matches up there, confronts him. And she's like "flipping fine, if that's how you feel then lemme get out of ur way- you won't hear a peep from me" and she like just ignores him and he learns how he feels about her, sees how his life is so boring without her and all that- goes to apologize happy ending..
Option number 2: silent treatment. Like just slowly drifting away until he once again comes to the realization that he needs her and all that happy ending yay!
Feel free to do whatever you want with this but I'm thinking of sending the same request to other authors to see what they come up with cause everyone has a style k? And i just love studying them and reading them cause evervtime- no matter how similar the prompt is- they always manage to invoke different feelings with in me.
Anyway- have fun doing this- but remember you don't have to cause this is kinda too much and I'm sorry😓
"I want my pen back."
wc: >1,200 A/N: okay so i got a bit carried away...this is a long one. (yes I am using this as an excuse to try out the gradient thing) thank you anon for this fun request! i also rlly like ur reasoning behind it and i hope i was able to do this prompt some type of justice lol
The gel pen clattered to the ground.
“I got it,” you said, grinning at Miles. You squat to grab it before the boy can act to get it himself, and he sighs as you hand it to him.
“Thanks.”
Miles turned the pen every which way between his fingers.
You had gifted it to him on the first day of school, with that same expectant grin. The little cartoon dogs that surrounded the perimeter had begun to fade with use because – admittedly – it had actually turned out to be a good ass pen.
He’d thought initially that you were just being nice; maybe you were handing shit out to everyone because it was the first day, understandable. 
But then, it was highlighters (the erasable ones).
Pink sticky-notes on his locker, telling him to have a nice day with the ‘i’s dotted with hearts.
A new sketchbook for Secret Santa.
Miles’ pencil case had rapidly gotten bulkier, and when you rushed to grab a seat next to him during the one class without assigned seats, it finally clicked.
You were trying to get his attention. And he wasn’t sure what would happen if you got it.
“I like the new braids.”
He was snapped out of his thoughts, and turned to you.
“Huh?”
“The braids,” you laughed. “I like the pattern. Who did ‘em for you?”
A tiny smirk ghosted the boy’s lips.
“My mom. Just like the last time you asked me.”
He ran a hand instinctively over the meandering zig-zag pattern that his cornrows had been sectioned into. Miles looked at you from his periphery; you were still staring. 
“Bitch, just ask him out already!”
Your friend smacked the back of your shoulder as the two of you took your sweet time getting back to your lockers.
“Alright, today, I swear,” you said, hand over your heart for emphasis.
A beat of silence passes. “But what if he says no?” 
She groaned.
“Then he says no, and you can save your money. But say something, it’s getting embarrassing.”
Your friends’ encouragement landed you here, around the corner of a building where Miles and a gaggle of other boys from your homeroom were bursting into raucous laughter.
“Yo, why you ain’t bag her yet? She wants you bad,” one boy said.
Unsure if the ‘she’ in question was you, you stay where you are and keep listening.
“I dunno, she kinda annoying,”
Miles’ low voice makes your ears perk up.
“One day she gon’ run outta things to say about my hair, she has to!”
…Oh.
The buoyant feeling in your chest sinks as the group erupts into another laughing fit. If you asked him out now, you’d hear about it for the rest of the year.
Shoving your phone into your pocket, you turn back the way you came. 
Miles knew something was off when you sat down the next morning without a word. 
“You good?” he asked.
You glanced at him, then nodded before going back to playing with the beads in your hair. The excruciating silence stretched on for almost the entirety of class before it was broken again.
“Do you…wanna help me with my homework? I’ll really let you, this time.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“Morales, you got an ‘A’ in every class.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Your name’s on every bulletin board.”
“Damn,” the boy muttered to himself as his leg bounced under the desk.
Your beads clattered against your back as you rose from your seat. The bell had rung, finally. You didn’t even say ‘bye’.
Miles cracked open his locker. One of your sticky notes from last week had begun to un-stick and fluttered to the ground. There were no new ones. He bent to pick it up, noticing how neat and round your handwriting was on these compared to the way you wrote in class. The letters didn’t run together, like you were in a rush.
Neatly folding the note and sticking it in his pocket, Miles shut his locker to reveal your face. The boy nearly yelped in surprise.
“Where the hell did you come from? Scared the shit outta me,” he said with a grin.
“I want my pen back.”
Miles froze. 
“Which pen?”
You tilted your chin up towards the one he was currently gripping in his left hand. He looked down at it like a wad of cash.
“Oh.”
He couldn’t just not give the pen back to you…
…but he didn’t want to give it to you, either.
“What you need it for? Don’t you have, like, a whole store full of these?”
“Miles, I gotta get to class. I’m not playing,” you reached for Miles’ hand, but he raised it high above his head.
Instead of a smirk or mocking sneer, something like worry was etched onto the boy’s features. 
“Tell me what’s up witchu first.”
“What are you talking about? I’m about to be late, c’mon.”
“You ain’t said a word to me all day,” he dropped his hand momentarily. “Are you sick? Did I do something? What–hey!”
You had snatched the pen out of the boy’s hand when he wasn’t looking, throwing it into your bag.
“I thought that’s what you wanted.”
You turn to retreat down the hallway, but stop with a huff when Miles calls after you.
“Wait!”
“I’m waiting.”
“Come see me after school?”
You kicked an empty can down the sidewalk in front of Miles’ apartment.
“Make this quick, I gotta go study.”
He looks everywhere else to avoid meeting your eyes, looking for the right words.
“You didn’t answer me earlier,” Miles awkwardly shuffled his feet. “Are you mad at me?”
“...Yeah, kinda.”
“For what?”
You stop to think for a moment, crossing your arms. 
“For…for letting me hand you that pen, knowing you weren’t gonna give it back,” you began.
Miles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “That’s it?”
You shook your head profusely, “N-no, I’m not done. You let me buy you all that stuff, put all that dumb shit in your locker, whole time you don’t even like me–”
“You don’t know that,” Miles interrupted. Your head snapped up to look at him, and you paused.
“I don’t?”
Neither of you say anything for a moment, then Miles remembers the note in his pocket. He takes it out and shows it to you.
“These? Are cute as fuck,”
He searches for more words, ten continues, "A-and I use that sketchbook every day. That pen? It’s like, my favorite,” he laughs. “I got half a mind to steal it back from you.”
Miles watches you expectantly. Your arms are still crossed, but the corners of your lips quirk up in amusement.
“So you like getting free stuff.”
“No-! I…”
The boy’s arms had begun to flail around in frustration. You hold back a giggle, never having seen him squirm like this before. It’s a nice change of pace.
“Alright, listen. I like hearing you talk to me every morning, and…”
He trailed off. He had begun slightly bouncing on his toes.
“...I like you.”
At some point while watching Miles struggle to explain himself, the float-y feeling in your chest had come back. You tilted your head to the side, and smiled.
“Okay. What are you gonna do about it?”
The boy’s eyes lit up.
“Where do you wanna go?”
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ltbarnes · 2 months
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Back to December (2/2)
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Summary: Your new job as an assistant for the CEO of a big, shiny company was supposed to be a good thing. Instead your ex from uni who completely ghosted you out of nowhere several years ago happens to be one of your superiors. It doesn’t help that he’s only gotten more handsome over the years. But you hate him for leaving without an explanation, and he seems to hate you too. Everything is just fucking great.
Pairing: ex!Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader
Word count: 7k
Warnings: OFFICE AU (Ghost is not ceo but he’s up there in the company somewhere), exes to enemies to lovers, harassment, past emotional violence/threats, blood, smut (p in v), oral (f receiving)
A/N: Took me a few weeks but it’s finally here ;) you guys don’t understand how happy it made me when so many people loved the last part!! makes me so excited to write more for the cod fandom! (I have not proofread this because I was too excited to publish it so there might be errors and weird stuff lol)
Part 1
Masterlist
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The car ride is quiet. He glances your way whenever you wince. You watch his hand gripping the stirring wheel tightly, fingers drumming along anxiously with the faint beat of a song coming from the radio.
It's a nice car. Like, you would not afford this even if you saved up for years. You knew Simon was influential in the company, but this...it almost scares you. He's fucking rich. Probably going to laugh at you when he pulls up outside of your apartment building.
This is the first time you have ever been in a car with him. You wish things were different. Mostly that your eyes weren't so puffy from crying. And that he wasn't your ex and you weren't working together.
A red light forces him to slow down into a stop, the only sound now being the wind picking up pace outside. It's so quiet for a few seconds that you barely have the courage to breathe.
"Why did you fuck up my entire office? Whole day was ruined," Simon speaks from nowhere. Your lip twitches, fighting the urge to smirk despite the pain tormenting you.
"How'd you know it was me?"
"Of course it was you. No one else in there knows that I'd have a bloody breakdown over my files being out of order," he mutters.
You let out a quiet chuckle, shaking your head. "It was petty. But...I was mad. About the coffee-thing." Your voice grows softer with each word, merely a whisper by the end.
Simon clears his throat, shifting in his seat. "Yeah, uh...not my finest moment."
A thick silence falls over the car once more. None of you dare to talk about the thing that actually needs to be brought up, the dark cloud hanging over your shared past. You are not really mad at each other over coffee.
The drive takes much longer than usual because of the heavy rain. You're shivering despite the heat being on. It's been thirty minutes once the wheels slow down right outside of your apartment, and you instantly move to get out after throwing a sincere 'thank you' his way. It's all you can muster.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Simon asks, not even making an attempt to answer to what you were saying.
"What do you mean?" You stop, looking over your shoulder with one hand on the door. You just want to go inside, away from his gaze before it all gets too much.
Simon unbuckles his belt, getting out of the car. Rounds the entirety of it until he's opening your door, leaning down to look at you with a frown.
"You're hurt, for fuck's sake, Y/n. You can't take care of that yourself, no way."
You sigh out of frustration, shaking your head while looking away from him. "Why are you being nice to me, Simon?"
That seems to halt him in his actions. Simon blinks, pauses for a few seconds, before opening his mouth again. "Don't know. But I'm in a chipper fucking mood, so just let me get you out of the car, okay?"
You huff, giving no protest as he takes a hold of your waist to assist you out onto the curb. "You're not in a good mood..." you mutter under your breath. He just scoffs.
Simon sits and waits for you in the kitchen as you wrangle yourself out of your wet clothes into an old sweatshirt and a pair of pyjama shorts. For much too long you stand in front of the mirror, staring at the newly formed bruise on your upper arm. You have to take a few shaky breaths to force the tears back before you limp back into the kitchen.
This outfit of yours is the last thing you want to wear around him, but it's what the situation requires. But did you really have to be so dramatic and fall onto your knees before? This is going to take weeks to heal. And now you have Simon sitting on your chair waiting to patch you up. Simon.
"The first aid kit is in the bathroom, I'm just gonna go get—" You point with your thumb.
He's on his feet before you even have the chance to finish the sentence. You barely even processed the fact that he's discarded his suit jacket and shirt, now walking around your home with a white tank that does no good job at hiding his fucking massive muscles. His arms are covered in tattoos that he definitely didn't have when you last saw him. Fuck.
Simon returns just a minute later, already rummaging through the box for...something. You don't really know what's required for a wound like this. He was right about you not being able to take care of it yourself, which you hate. Loathe, actually.
"Sit down," he tells you, dragging out a chair from the table as if you are his guest and not the other way around. The strangest thing is that you listen, without a single protest. He seems to still have that power over you.
You can't take your eyes off of him as he kneels down, grabbing a hold of cotton and some liquid-thingy you didn't even know you had in that kit.
"Is that gonna hurt?" you ask, his hand one inch from touching your knee. Simon sighs, blinking as if he's going to lose it soon.
"Well, what do you think? It's alcohol in a bleeding wound. Of fucking course it's gonna hurt."
You grimace, biting your cheek, before inching back just slightly. "Then I don't wanna do it," you whisper.
"Oh, for fuck's sake. Grow up for once, will you?"
"What do you mean ‘for once’?" you seethe, retracting yourself entirely from his proximity as he rolls his eyes.
"Well, c'mon, what you did today was just...fucking childish." Still sitting on his knees, but it feels like he's towering over you the way he speaks.
"Uh—like you acting like your coffee was cold when it clearly wasn't just to humiliate me wasn't childish too! You started it!"
You rise to your feet, turning away from Simon out of frustration.
"Sit down, Y/n."
"No! I won't...let you in my apartment to order me around and...and—"
"Just sit down," he seethes, getting up to his feet. Now he's really towering over you. You hate it.
You continue walking away towards your bathroom, letting out a wince as you put too much weight on the bad knee. You keep walking anyways.
"Y/n, for fuck's sake!" Simon follows you. He could have been ahead of you if he wanted to already, but he stays behind for some reason. "Why won't you listen to me?"
His yelling makes you turn around with so much anger in your expression. But the anger can't hide the tears pooling in your eyes—nothing can.
"Because you left me!"
Silence. Thick, anxious silence as he stands there dumbfounded. His chest is heaving from your altercation.
"You left me without a single word, Simon! Not even a fucking hint!"
His previous stunned silence turns into a bitter chuckle, one hand on his hip and the other running over his chin as he shakes his head. You see the change in his eyes—irritation turned into real anger.
"Not a hint, huh?" he scoffs. "You could've given a fucking hint that you were sick of me before you went and fucked Graves and half of his team behind my back."
All of a sudden the roles are switched, and you're the one stunned silent. A person who can barely process the words you just heard—did you hear right? Could Simon ever say that to you?
"I was so happy that night. Just wanted to celebrate with my team and my girl—searched the whole party for you, you know?" Simon shakes his head, still that cold, deprecating chuckle on his lips. "And then I find you eating up Philip fucking Graves' face and two of his friends. Fucking two of them, Y/n!"
Agressive flashes of fear-filled memories attack you along with the line of Simon's retelling of that night you go back to so often. Of what you could have done differently, of the anger you felt that he just had to make things worse. Water was up to your neck, pressing on your lungs, and his abandonment pushed your head under the surface.
"You get your fucking boyfriend to back down or we'll leave your pretty body half-conscious on his doorstep."
"Please, just let me go. I'll talk to him, I promise. Please." You were sobbing, the emotions heightened by the vodka in your bloodstream.
"Such an obedient little puppy, huh? No wonder he spends all his time fucking you instead of hanging out with the team." Philip's laughter filled the room, looking over his shoulder to his friends who found just as much amusement in the situation as him.
"Nothing to say, huh?"
Simon's voice shatters your deep train of thought with the sheer bitterness behind it. It makes the tears fall faster.
"You...you saw that?" you ask weakly, your voice frail as if you have been crying for hours. Your arms come up to shield yourself from the invisible presence of them, hugging your torso as if it helps.
"Yeah. Yeah, I did. It was fucking hell, seeing the girl you love cheating on you with three guys. So I'm sorry if I've been acting like a bloody prick, but I can't just pretend I'm not still so fucking angry at you. Don't come crying here saying that my behavior isn't justified when you know damn well why I'm mad at you."
All these years. So many sleepless nights obsessing over every detail of your behavior during your relationship, and this is the answer. You have been so angry at him over leaving, and you never thought you would understand why. But you do, and it breaks your heart even more.
Blood is smeared all over your leg as you look down, and that still doesn't hurt as much as the fact that Simon has gone around for years hating you, thinking that you cheated on him. You loved him so much. Betraying him is the last thing you ever would have done. You understand Johnny's reaction now too—he thought you cheated on his best friend. That's not something you just forgive. It's your job to be mad at the people who wrong your friends.
But a nagging voice in the back of your head tells you to be angry. Simon walked past that dark bedroom, saw what was happening, and left. He could have saved you. It's an unfair thought to have. You can't be upset with him for misunderstanding. He couldn't have known about the threats dealt out in that room, or that the passionate kisses he witnessed was in reality seething, harsh words and a much too up and close Philip Graves. But it still hurts. Still haunts you, having three massive rugby players crowding you in and promising to beat you to a pulp.
A loud sniffle comes from your lips, drying the tears away from your face with the back of your hand. Blinking to rid yourself of the water on your lashes. You have to tell him. Simon looks about ready to leave.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," you say breathily. Your voice cracks in the middle of it.
"Sorry?" he shakes his head, lifts his eyebrow as if assessing the word. It's clear that's not enough for him.
"I'm sorry you thought I cheated all this time. I understand why—" A hiccup,"—I get why you left."
Your choice of words changes his demeanor. From hostile, clenched jaw with a fire simmering underneath the surface to hostile, clenched jaw and confused.
"I didn't kiss anyone, Simon. I didn't—I didn't do anything with Philip, or any of his friends." Broken words, distorted by the constant movement of your chest and throat as your body desperately fights for you to let out the sobs. Not yet. "They wanted me to get you to quit the team, and I couldn't...I couldn't fight back. Not against all of them."
Nostrils flare, lip is bitten down on. A veiny hand runs over a mouth. Blinking. Hands shake with contained...fury? You don't know who it's directed at.
"What the hell are you trying to say?" he seethes, taking a step forward that makes you take one back.
"We weren't kissing. They were threatening me. Said I'd be left on your doorstep bleeding and bruised if I didn't convince you to stop going after the Captain position. I was so scared, Simon," you say, voice cracking pathetically on the last sentence.
He’s quiet for much too long. You can’t read him, standing there so exposed and vulnerable and he’s silent. That’s why his outburst is so sudden.
"Fuck!"
You flinch, inching backwards as Simon turns around yelling. Not once have you heard him scream this loud. So you stand there, rooted in place, tears streaming down your face as he tugs at his hair with his hands. His chest heaves as if he just ran five miles.
You tremble too. The first sob comes out. It's a sad, pathetic sob that you try to muffle with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. Futile. Simon turns around. You can't see his expression through the blur of your tears.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you repeat, burying your face into the palms of your cold hands.
You almost jump as strong arms pull you into the tightest hug you have ever lived through. It's an urgent one, a desperate one. It's warm. Your cheek gets mushed against his damp shirt, hand encasing the back of your head as his chest rises up and down with his rugged breaths.
You lose the single crumb of composure you had left. If Simon wasn't a wall of a man he would have been dragged down with you as your legs lose the ability to carry you, just like in the alleyway. He notices anyway, slowly sitting the two of you down on the floor. Your knee is protected by a gentle hand keeping it from colliding with the hardwood.
"I am so, so sorry, Y/n," Simon tells you on a frail voice. It almost sounds like he's on the verge of crying too. You didn't know his voice could sound soft. "I am so sorry I didn't protect you. That I just—I just walked away. So fucking thickheaded—"
Your fingers clasp onto his shirt, tugging just slightly. It's your silent 'stop'. A reassurance that he doesn't need to blame himself. You understand.
"All these years I—I hated you for something you didn't even do. Fuck, I didn't even give you a chance to explain."
He shakes his head, his hold around you tightening subconsciously. It takes a few seconds before he realizes and softens again.
"Oh fucking hell. I got Graves suspended the day before 'cause I ratted him out to Coach about smoking fucking weed. Fucking shit, this is all my fault. I am so sorry," Simon croaks out. His voice will give in any minute to the guilt and frustration and anger and tears.
"Simon..." you whisper before sniffling, putting your hand on his chest. "Don't. Don't do this to yourself."
He shakes his head again. He will give himself a concussion soon from how much he's done it this night.
"It's not your fault. It's...it was horrible. But it was them, not you. Someone came and stopped it before they could do anything worse."
He takes in a sharp breath. You can almost feel the way his jaw clenches. "Anything worse? They put their hands on you?" he whispers bitterly. "Shouldn't have happened at all. I should have been with you earlier."
"Just some bruises from when they dragged me into that room. But I know you wouldn't have let it happen if you knew. Of course I know that, Simon," you say softly, sitting up just slightly. You don't know when your tears stopped. It's just your throbbing head and the runny nose left. "Simon, you were so protective of me. You cared so much—I know you would have stopped them if you knew. But you didn't know."
Dirty blond hair and his scruffy neck is all you're met with. He doesn't even look your way. And then he's suddenly on his feet, towering over your figure on the floor.
"You're still bleeding. Need to fix it."
You can't answer. Don't even have the opportunity to—Simon's hands sneak under yours arms and lift you up to a stand before you can open your mouth again.
"Simon..."
He keeps quiet. It's that brooding thing where he overthinks. Did it when you were together too. A lot. Simon carries a lot of guilt around, steals it from others and guards it safely within himself. You don't really know how he bears it all.
The sofa sinks underneath your weight as he slowly loosens his hold around your waist, placing you so gently onto the cushions. Might as well be made of glass to him. But then you think that it must be exactly how he views you right now—a delicate, frail thing who needs protection from any and every threat. You have already amassed cracks during the years, during the day even, and just one push will leave you to splinter.
Once again he kneels before you. This time you don't find it frustratingly hot. Now it's soft, a little sad even. There's a frown so deep in between his eyebrows you fear it might become permanent this time.
You don't say anything as you let him clean your wound. Maybe you hiss a little once the alcohol touches the broken skin, but make no move to protest. Simon might need this more than you. Okay, you don't want to die from an infection, but you could have done this with a lot less grace. You would have ten minutes ago.
"I still am, you know," he mutters after many, many minutes of silence. He's wrapping a bandage around your leg.
"What?" you breathe out softly, looking down at his concentrated frown.
"Protective of you," he answers. "I still care. Even if we're not together." Simon gulps, stops for just a second in his work.
"You are?"
His eyebrows rise for a second, corners of his lips threatening to tug upwards. "Didn't see me earlier in the lobby? I was gonna curse you out real fucking good. For my office."
"But you didn't."
"No. I couldn't, not when I saw that you were crying." His hand suddenly stops, resting on your good knee, before he looks up at you. "Why the hell were you crying, Y/n?"
Instantly you close off again, glancing away to escape that concerned expression that makes his eyes so dark and soft. It's an irresistible thing.
"Please, love. I need to—I need to make it better."
You pretend to ignore that Simon just called you love. Instead you focus on the fact that he's trying to compensate for that December night. For all the years you had a broken heart without knowing the reason why.
"Just...something that brought back some bad memories, that's all. Unpleasant encounter." It's practically mumbled, your answer, and you know Simon always hated when you mumbled. Wanted to hear your pretty voice loud and clear, he used to tell you.
His ever present frown grows impossibly deeper. Simon is speculating with himself, it's clear on his expression.
"With someone at work? Who bothered you, Y/n? Who the fuck made you cry?" he seethes, running his hand over his mouth as if to keep himself from saying something worse.
You shake your head. Your instinct tells you to dismiss it, say that it's fine. But maybe you shouldn't, for once. Just tell him that Shepherd actually said something that was far from okay. He was in the wrong. You shouldn't be the one to suffer in silence anymore.
"There was this—you know the man who always wears a Rolex and has the corner office? Shepherd?" you say meekly.
Simon's jaw clenches, but still his hand on your thigh is so gentle. "What the fuck did he do?"
"He...I ran into him on my way home. Collided right into his chest." You swallow air, looking down at the point of contact between you and Simon. "And he caught me. Didn't let go when I tried to go away. And he had this look in his eyes. Was so close, too. I couldn't breathe."
"Fucking hell," Simon groans.
"He said he just wanted to talk...but then he started commenting on my dresses. That he'd watched me 'strut around', as if I purposely put on a show for him, or something. Told me to come into his office on Monday and wear something nice so he would have something sweet to look at. I had to beg him to let me go."
"He the reason you've been clutching your arm the whole night?" Simon asks tensely, nodding down to where the bruise hides underneath your sweater.
You didn't even notice you did that. But it's sore when you move it. The answer to his question comes from your uneasy glance up at him that makes him close his eyes. You think it's to contain something—to calm down.
"He won't get fucking near you again, Y/n."
You gulp, blinking. "But he works there...he's one of my superiors."
"No. The fuck he isn't. He's not stepping a foot inside that building again."
"What?"
"Price will have him fucking murdered for even looking at you funny. Been looking for an excuse to get rid of him for years, and this...I'm so sorry, love. You shouldn't have to put up with that."
You shake your head, looking down to the point where Simon still has the bloodied cotton pressed against your knee.
"You would do that for me?" you ask softly, almost a whisper.
"Do fucking anything for you, Y/n. Would have even during all these years that I was too bloody stupid to reach out." With his hand on your thigh, he shakes your leg gently, enough to make you look him in the eye again. "You were my girl, you know? Swore I'd protect you from every fucker who even looked at you wrong, and not only did I fail at saving you from those fucking worthless pieces of shit who laid their hands on you, but I didn't protect you from myself. Will never forgive myself for that."
Simon's words makes your lower lip tremble again, and you let out something akin to a whimper and sigh before speaking.
"None of that is your fault," you say. "Even though I would've appreciated if you talked to me before just leaving back then, I understand why you didn't. If it was the other way around and I thought you were out with three girls, I would've been crushed. Wouldn't be able to look at you again without breaking into sobs."
He raises his eyebrows, shaking his head. It's clear that he doesn't take your words to heart, but there's still something in your statement that registers within him.
"You never told me that you cared for me that much." Simon clears his throat, as if the words are a lump stuck in his airways.
You sigh. You know it's true—you held back on saying those three words for months, thinking that the time had to be right and he couldn't possibly feel as strongly as you did. Then he broke up with you and you never got the chance.
"I wanted to. I wanted to tell you everyday, but I was scared that you wouldn't say it back."
Simon scoffs. "For fuck's sake, Y/n. I loved the shit out of you. Thought everyone could see that from the way I trailed after you like a lovesick puppy."
A bittersweet chuckle comes from your lips, shaking your head to yourself. Blinking away tears stuck in your eyelashes. "I should've told you sooner." It's a decibel away from a whisper.
Simon looks at you as if what will come out of your mouth is the most important thing in the world.
"I think I...I still feel that for you. A little bit," you admit. "It's pathetic that I'm still hung up on you after so many years, but it's hard, Simon. Seeing you everyday and not act like we used to."
"Don't you think I haven't wanted to bend you over my desk and fuck you every single day these past two weeks?" Simon seethes. "I've jerked off in the bathroom outside my office more times than I can count and literally cried like a pathetic jerk in Johnny's arms the first day you started work 'cause I was still so fucking hurt that you didn't love me as much as I loved you. I'm a grown ass man, Y/n, and it was years ago. That's how much you meant to me."
"You cried?" you ask breathily, your head empty except his words echoing. Bend you over my desk.
"I've sobbed like a fucking fool countless times over you. The weekend after I saw you—after I thought that I saw you with them—I went back to my mum's house and wailed like a baby into her chest." Simon chuckles, a bittersweet expression on his face.
"I'm sorry."
"No. None of that shit. I caused it. Should've just asked you instead of taking off. Wasn't man enough for you back then. I'm the one who needs to apologize."
You bite down on your lower lip, doing something akin to a nod as you glance away, out of the window.
"And now?" you ask. "Are you man enough now?"
"Careful, love..." Simon says, his voice strained.   "Don't give me hope."
"Hope for what?"
"You know damn fucking well what I'm hoping for," he answers gruffly. You gulp, lips parting to release a shallow breath. His brown eyes are nearly black, pupils blown wide from the intensity of his gaze. You know that look.
"Simon, you know I feel the same. You know it." It's nearly a whisper, what comes out of your mouth. Leaning forward just slightly, closer to his face where he's kneeling on the floor. "I already told you earlier that I still—"
Your back is pressed against the cushions of the couch as Simon surges up from his place on the floor. Calloused, tattooed hands grip your face gently as those pink lips you've dreamed about for the past two weeks devour yours desperately. Shuts you up real good.
"I've missed you so fucking much," Simon growls, a certain ferocity in his voice that makes him sound like a beast bowing only for his woman. He kisses you again. "Please. Please let me show you how fucking good I can be to you."
There's no real point in acting as if his words isn't the best thing you've ever heard. You're already panting and preening for him, so acting as if the answer will be anything but yes is futile. You nod furiously, holding onto his wrists.
"Yes. Please, Simon. Yes," you answer breathily, desperately.
The grunt coming from his chest makes your thighs clench together, resonating deeply within your core as the memories of how his touch felt all those years ago spark up every last nerv-ending in your body. Before you even know it, Simon has his large hands on your waist, lifting you up from the couch and sitting down himself. Your thighs straddling his, face to face and chest to chest.
"Ow. Simon, my knee," you say with a chuckle, leaning back enough to keep the pressure off your wounded leg.
"Oh, fuck. I'm so sorry, love. Are you alright?" he asks, an instantly guilty expression on his face. Didn't seem to pick up on the laugh from your lips. He looks like someone just kicked a puppy in front of him.
"I'm just fine, Si." Your hands come up to his face, feeling the stubble on his cheeks underneath your fingertips. "Maybe we shouldn't sit like this, though."
"We don't have to do this tonight. I'll wait for as long as you want me to," he tells you, pressing a chaste kiss to the inside of your wrist. It almost makes you cry. He always did that back in uni.
"I'll literally fucking burst if I don't have you inside me within the next ten minutes. We'll work around it. I don't care."
Simon chuckles. A sound that comes from deep within his chest, rumbling and warm and so familiar. It festers within you and sprouts, spreading safety and comfort through your blood. Makes you smile, genuinely. He stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands holding onto your thighs.
The bed sinks down underneath your weight as he lowers you down on the sheets, so careful to not touch your now patched up knee.
"Just as desperate for me now as you were then, huh?" Simon teases, his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck as his massive frame hovers above yours.
God, your body remembers. It remembers him so well, surrendering to his rough, deep voice as it whispers into your ear. It's an instant thing you feel—safety and simultaneously giddiness. You giggle like a goddamn schoolgirl with a crush, sneaking your arms around Simon's broad shoulders as you nod.
"Mhm, I am," you admit. Without shame. "I've really missed you, Simon. I really have." Your words are softer than before, void of the teasing tone they previously held.
He sighs. Presses his chapped lips to the corner of your mouth, slowly moving down to your jawline, neck. Simon is the toughest, biggest man you know. Curses like a sailor and can snap you in half. But oh, he's so gentle with you. When he wants to, at least. You remember those nights when desperation overtook him, clothes ripping and the breath fucked out of you. And you loved those nights just as much as the ones where he would just trace his lips over your skin for an hour before even touching your by then sickeningly wet folds.
But after years and years of separation and an emotionally wrecking fight that finally led to reunion, gentleness and patience isn't high on your list right now. You want to rip his clothes off and taste him again and feel him inside of you and kiss him even more and touch every inch of his skin. Though, Simon keeps trailing his mouth down your neck, hand inching underneath the hem of your sweatshirt as he hums. The sound makes you giggle. Fucking hell you've missed him.
"Something funny, love?" Simon asks, raising a challenging eyebrow as he lifts his head from your skin.
"Just that sound. Been thinking it about it sometimes."
"Thinking about it, huh?" he probes, pushing your sweatshirt over your head, forcing you to raise your arms. A deep groan comes from his lips as the lace of your bra is revealed to him, the fabric delicate enough to show the outline of your nipple. "Oh, fucking hell. You tryin' to make me come in my goddamn pants, yeah? It's not nice."
"I didn't know you'd see my bra when I put it on this morning, Simon," you chuckle, gaze flickering down to see his frankly hungry gaze.
"Didn't put it on for someone else to see it, did you?" he asks, something akin to doubt in his eyes. Or maybe not doubt, but nervousness.
"No. There's no one else," you admit. "Haven't...been many others since you."
"Not for me either. No one is like you. Tried, but it was bloody useless. Fucking nothing is better than my sweet girl when she's wrapped around my cock."
His statement confuses you for just a second before his hand sneaks it's way underneath your pyjama shorts, cupping your pussy and feeling the embarrassing wetness already soaking your underwear.
"Let me taste you, love," he pleads. You're already squirming, bucking your hips against his hand in search for friction. All you can do to answer is nod, and the second after, your shorts are thrown to your bedroom floor.
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"C'mon, sweet girl. Been without you for fucking years. You can give me one more. Just one more," he tells you, pumping his fingers into you deliriously, possessed by the squelching sound your slick and his digits emit.
It's been thirty five fucking minutes of Simon making you come on his tongue and his fingers and then his tongue again. He's currently on his second round of fingering the living breath out of you. You had forgotten how thick his fingers were, and now with those added years of use, more calluses and lines and wrinkles? You haven't been able to utter a full sentence in a good while.
"Holy..." Your head is thrown back onto the pillow, back arching as if you were in a porn video, thighs clamping down on his hand.
"That's my girl. There we go, there we go,” he mutters, in a trance by the sound of it and his lustful stare.
You have to push his hand away after almost a minute of him drawing out your orgasm by lazily continuing to pump his fingers into you, whining when it becomes too much.
“Insatiable fucker,” you mumble as you lay spent on top of the sheets, chest heaving and a light sheen of sweat on your skin.
And he hasn’t even been inside you yet.
Simon chuckles, that deep rumble that almost sounds like it scratches his insides in some way. A wet, shameless kiss is pressed to your thigh, before he stands up to his full length again. His poor knees must be aching after having been pressed into the floor for so long.
“Missed her. Can’t blame a bloke for wanting to spend time with his missus after such a long time, eh?” Simon teases, making you roll your eyes fondly.
“Just c’mere,” you sigh, smiling up at Simon again, the same way you did at 20. Or maybe not the exact same. Things have changed, you have changed. Simon has sure as hell changed. But it’s better. A deeper affection, a deeper understanding.
The blond giant climbs onto the bed, over you, hovering like a wolf ready to pounce yet a gentleness in his hold that draws away the sense of threat. His thumb cups your cheek, brushes over the skin under your eye. And then he kisses you, softly, something you didn’t he know he was capable of. Back then, it was always passion, urgency. Playful, desperate. This is longing.
You sigh against his lips, feeling his chapped skin and the stubble on his chin. It nearly brings tears to your eyes, the way you have this man over you again. It’s been so long and he’s dozens of pounds heavier with muscle, more tattoos on his skin and scars on his body. But he’s still Simon. And he’s yours.
“Condom? Please for the love of god tell me you have a condom,” he pleads, growls with need against the crook of your neck.
“In the drawer,” you giggle, stretching your arm out in its direction.
He wastes no time. His urgency makes him clumsy, makes you laugh even more, as he tries to tear the wrapper open with his teeth and fails. Gives you a warning glare that does no good job at hiding his fond amusement, while resorting to opening it with his hands like a normal person.
Simon’s hands close around the back of your thighs, pulling your legs up until they press against your stomach. His tip brushes against your wet folds, but his gaze is on your face.
“Ready for me, sweet girl?” he asks, the deep timber of his voice sending literal shivers through you.
You nod.
“Words.”
“Yes, Simon. Please. Wan’ you inside me,” you plead.
“Mhm, know you do, sweetheart.”
It’s all the warning you get before he grabs a hold of his cock, coating it in your slick, before guiding it towards your dripping hole. Your breath catches in your throat, a whine of discomfort coming from your lips as his thick girth presses into you inch by agonizing inch. And yet it’s so good. Fucking hell, you’ve missed it.
“Holy fuck, I forgot—“ you say, not needing to finish the sentence for him to know the sentiment. You forgot how big he was.
"God you're..." Simon growls, keeping still as he bottoms out, savoring the feeling of your walls stretching around his thick cock once again. "You feel even fucking better. How the fuck did I go without her all these years?"
Tears prickle the corners of your eyes. Don’t know if it’s from the sting, the longing, the pleasure. You’re still all pliant and sensitive from the multiple orgasms he drew out of your earlier.
Simon starts to move, rolling his hips slowly into you. Letting you feel every ridge and vein of his cock sliding against your walls, drawing rumbles from his chest.
“Not gonna leave this pretty pussy again, no. ‘S all mine. Needa’ apologize for keeping her lonely for so many years,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. The corners of your lips tug upwards.
“Simon,” you whisper, hands entangled into his hair. He tilts his head upwards, looking up at your face. “Fuck me.”
A pleased smirk grows on his face, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so, huh?” he asks, squeezing your thigh, before snapping his hips into yours.
“Oh, fuck…”
Your pathetic bed creaks as Simon bullies his cock into you, the filthy sound of your slick being pushed inside of you filling the room along with the grunts and whines from your mouths.
It’s like a switch turned on in his head when you told him to fuck you, because it’s nearly animalistic. There’s no class or precision in his sloppy thrusts, just desperation.
“Fuck, so sorry, love, but I’m gonna come,” Simon tells you, clenching his jaw tightly with restraint. His large fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he holds them up, his heavy weight flush against you to keep you in a mating press. Despite his words, there’s no shame in them. Just an apology. He wishes he could savor this, but it’s futile. His cock wants something else.
“It’s…it’s okay,” you manage to get out between his thrusts, a smile on your face while his movements grow increasingly sloppy and hurried. “Come for me, baby. It’s okay.”
“So fucking perfect,” he growls, while his thumb finds its way to rub tight circles on your clit. Damn it if he doesn’t make you come one more time. He needs to feel you clenching down on his cock like that. “Gonna make you come again, baby, I promise.”
Your hands paw at his broad back, digging into the chiseled muscles while your thighs wrap around him, bringing him in deeper.
It’s with his face buried into the crook of your neck that he comes with a snarl, heavy breaths likened to the ones belonging to a beast blown right into your ear. Despite his movements stilling, his softening length remains inside of you while his fingers flicker your nub deliriously.
“Uh-huh, I see you, I see you.” He grins, taking note of the bucking of your hips, the way your thighs attempt to press together as they squeeze around his waist.
“Simon,” you whimper, and that’s all it takes for him to press down a little harder, do it a little faster. You let go, mouth falling open in a soundless gasp.
“There it is. Look so beautiful when you come on my cock,” he tells you, and you swear you feel him harden again inside of you.
But when you come down from the high, laying there spent and panting, he pulls out so gently. Presses a kiss to the swell of your neck before climbing off the bed and discarding the condom in the bathroom.
“Simon, can you get me a towel?” you ask tiredly, watching his naked figure through the open door.
“Was already on it,” he tells you, stretching his arm out through the spring with the towel in hand, drawing a chuckle from your lips. “Have to take care of my woman. Can’t leave her all messy from taking my cock like the sweet girl she is.”
“You’re so crude,” you say through giggles, Simon walking back into your bedroom.
“Only around you, love,” he answers, kneeling on the bed to dry you off.
“That’s a lie. A big fat lie.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
The soft fabric drags against your skin, soaking up the trails of your wetness coating your inner thighs and your folds. So meticulous, careful with each movement. Neat-freak.
“I love you.”
His head tilts up, brown eyes keeping you still under his gaze. And then he smiles. Skin by his eyes crinkling, white teeth showcased, towel discarded onto the floor. He covers your body with his, arms sneaking around your waist to roll you on top of him.
“I love you, sweet girl. ‘S probably gonna be the death of me, but like hell if I’m gonna do anything else than love you,” he whispers, dragging the duvet over your bodies.
Your body goes soft, pliant, in his hold. Comfortable silence fills the non-existing space between you, his breathing the only thing you can hear. Your eyes almost shutter closed when Simon speaks up again.
"I am so fucking you in my office on Monday," Simon tells you, chin on top of your head, your cheek on his chest. You can't see his face, but you know there's a boyish grin on his lips.
You just chuckle tiredly.
"Mr. Price would literally kill the both of us if he found out."
"Tough luck, love. I'm having you on my desk. End of discussion," he teases, squeezing your hip gently.
"You're insatiable."
"And you're beautiful. And sexy, and gorgeous, and entirely fucking mine," he whispers, growls, into your ear. "So we're christening my office on Monday, yeah?"
"You're taking the blame if Price walks in."
"Gladly. By Monday afternoon, nobody in our office will have any doubts about who I belong to."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm. Future Mr. Y/l/n Riley. You better fucking believe,” he says. “Just gonna get Shepherd fired and gauge his eyes out first.”
“Simon.”
“Yes. Nobody fucks with my woman.”
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TAGLIST: @keendreamnight @xxkay15xx @evie-119 @darkravenqueen98 @naxxsstuff @sirens-and-moonflowers @narcoticv3nus @igotmajordaddyissues @fallenkitten @darling006 @iloveloveeducks @accio-serotonin
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peachesofteal · 10 months
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ok i have a question- for the dead disco fics, if there was a situation where ghost had to choose between reader and soap, who would he choose? idk why im thinking abt this LOL
Hey babe, what is wrong with you? (I love this so much it scratches my angst brain just right) Why do you want to feel this pain? (I too, want to feel this pain...let’s indulge)
Ghost x Soap x female reader Dead Disco - verse AU - not canon to the actual story. Warnings-tags: Angst. Inferred character death. Darling's usual (eating issues, depression, anxiety, despair, self destructive behaviors)
The bed is too big, as it always has been. As it always was before, and during. And as it always will be for now on, too. Your legs spread across it, kicking and swishing across pristine sheets like you're swimming in them, like you're drowning. Drowning, is more apt. Drowning is more akin to these feelings that swimming, certainly. Drowning is how you feel right now, smothered in your loss, lungs full of water, burning from the salt of your own tears. You're at the bottom of the ocean, lost beneath where the sunlight doesn't reach, far beyond the swell of the waves. Drowning is what it feels like, when your heart clenches in your chest and your stomach heaves it's bile free. Drowning is how you would describe this black, bottomless hole that's developed soul, the one that pulls you deeper and deeper with every breath. Drowning. You've drowned. And no one was there to pull you to shore. To safety. No one was there to save you.
"I'm home!" Your bag falls to the floor with a thud as you toss your keys on the island, loosening your jacket and heading towards the dining area of the flat. "Holy shit, wait until I tell you about my day. My boss was on one today, she was being a crazy a-" the words die on your tongue when you finally look up and see the expression on Johnny's face. At first glance, one might call it grim, but for those who know him, who know to look closer, you see the red ting to his eye lids, the rub of drier skin around his nose. He's been crying. "What's going on?" you ask, looking from him to where Simon sits, stone faced. Immobile. Neither of them answer you at first. "Hello?" The knot that's been loosely tied in your stomach tightens. Simon nods at the free chair next to him. "Sit, darling."
There are two boxes, in your bathroom. They sit, full of things, clothing, items, trinkets, pieces of memories, pieces of love. They idle next to your bathtub, waiting, watching you, every time you drag yourself towards the toilet to vomit, or whenever you muster up the strength to look at your toothbrush. The boxes have sharpie scrawled across them, big loopy letters that almost look like mouths, almost look like they could grow teeth and talk to you, or eat you alive with what's inside of them. You supposed, they could. If you were to open them, and actually look at the things inside, they would consume you. Chew you up. Spit you out.
"I- I don't understand." You take a half step towards Johnny, who visibly flinches, face torn fractured with despair, while Simon's lips press into a hard line before he speaks. "We will make sure you're taken care of, we-" His voice is cold. So, so cold it scratches at your heart, pin pricks of icicles working their way beneath your ribs. "Stop." you shake your head, willing yourself to focus. What is he saying? What does he mean? "Simon, what... wh-what does that mean?" "Darling we're so, so sorry." Johnny's voice, is the opposite of cold. It's molten. Hot, and burning red with orange, thick with something you think is sadness. "You are sorry." You repeat it, numbly. You're not crying, which is a surprise to yourself and probably the two of them too. Your brain is really working now, hard. It's compartmentalizing and organizing and shoving little things away, burying others beneath mountains of sand and locking memories into boxes that you'll never be able to open. "You can't. You can't just leave me... you... you promised." Simon stands completely still, while Johnny shifts his weight nervously, fingers tangling with one another as he watches you like a hawk. Like a solider. "This will be better... for everyone." He tries to soothe you, tries to calm you, even from where he lurks, five feet away. Simon offers you nothing. "I don't understand, everything was fine. I thought... we were okay." Simon finally moves, shaking his head with a no while you watch, mouth ajar.
The boxes have been ripped into tatters now. They lay in shreds across the things in the bathtub, covering two t shirts of Johnny's, a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie of Simon's. Your silk bathrobe, and giant fleece blanket from the couch. There's also a book, a collection of photographs, a few pieces of jewelry. Worn index cards with recipes on them, Johnny's mum's, and a comic book, that Simon used to keep in his drawer of the bedside table. The final touch is the secret pack of cigarettes, the ones Simon used to keep in the closet, sans the one in your mouth. You inhale it slowly, breathing in the tobacco and the nicotine and the fumes of the lighter fluid, the entire contained dumped onto of the collection of things in the tub, waiting for your final flick. When it comes, you stay perched on the edge on the bath, barely interested, unmoving, as the fire rages. As it consumes.
"You fucking promised!" You scream. You scream it over and over until your throat is hoarse and Johnny looks panicked. Simon grips him roughly, sliding him half behind his body, as if to protect him from you. As if he thinks you'd hurt him. They both watch you with stricken faces, hunters tracking a wounded animal, and your breaths come in short bursts as tears track down your face. "You said you love me." It's barely a whisper, mournful and slow, and they both hear it. "We do." Johnny croaks. "We did." Simon counters, and you flinch. "But this is what's best, for all of us. It was always going to be him, darling. You've known this." It was always going to be him. It was always... going to be Johnny and Simon, over you. It was always going to be them, and not you. The truth stings, burns, bites. It twists it's wicked claws around your heart and tugs and tears until there's nothing left. You've known this. You idiot. How could you possibly believe, in the end, you'd still be in this equation? You'd still be a part of this? How could you possibly believe, that after everything, they'd still love you? Still want you? Simon's mouth moves, but you hear no sound. You hear nothing, as you turn on your heel and barricade yourself in the bedroom. You hear nothing, as they knock, and knock, you hear nothing, until the wood stops vibrating, and the front door open and closes with a final thud. It was always going to be them. You've known this.
"Bloody hell." Gaz whistles, eyes locked on the screen. Johnny wipes a towel across the back of his neck, mopping up the sheen of sweat that lingers there while Simon saunters through the rec room doors. "Christ. Didn't ya two live near there?" "Live where?" Johnny frowns, looking up. There's a heli eye view of a burning building on the news, it's entire structure engulfed in flames, firemen barely making a dent. The camera switches to a ground reporter, a pretty woman with a serious face, who's explaining that arson investigators believe the fire started on the ninth floor, where there's still a single person trapped, unable to be rescued so far by exhaustive efforts. Something glitches in Johnny's brain, something short circuiting while he blinks, and breathes, and blinks, trying to wrap his mind around what he's seeing. The ninth floor. Someone trapped. Didn't ya two live near there? The ninth- It's almost unrecognizable, but he knows. Of course he knows. The ninth floor, the ninth floor- His heart stops in his chest, and he turns frantically to Simon, who stands like a statue in the doorway, eyes wide and frozen. "No. Nonononono-" Johnny whispers. He stumbles, away from Simon, away from Gaz, eyes not leaving the television while he drops to his knees. "She- Simon." Simon doesn't answer, just stands, broken. Empty. Like a ghost. He has no words. He has nothing. And neither does Johnny.
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impyssadobsessions · 11 months
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DpxDC vague concept.. The normal what if Damian and Daniel was brothers. EXCEPT what if when the Fentons adopted/fostered Danny, they thought he was possessed by a ghost because of the pit rage this feral child had. So they managed to successfully cure Danny of it- but because of it and being revived from the pit Danny lost all his memories of the league. He didn't even know he was adopted. Until ding dong years later finds out and is so confuse. Jazz like OH right.. you did try to kill me when mom and dad took you in. Danny: I DID WHAT?! Jazz: Mom said you were trying to assert your rightful place or something like that. Sam: Pfft! No way Danny could be that scary- Parents have photos. Danny was indeed terrifying the first few photos they had of him.
Also actually had this idea of the concept.. from like What if Danny ended up in Gotham because parents doing a convention and had to be saved by Batman and Robin.. Only for Damian to recognize Danny and start investigating to see if this really is who he think it is. He keeps it from his siblings though they all know Damian is up to something. Damian gets his answer even after blowing up the machine from it trying to read Danny's dna sample. Damian then warns Danny to leave Gotham- doesn't realize at first how much Danny remembers or not. But once its clear he doesn't, he just really strains Danny needs to leave. Damian fearing Talia and the League of Assassins will find out Danny's alive and well. Though never having a close bond due to the nature of the league with Danny, he didn't want his brother to be subjected to it again. (Damian only having realized how much he regrets not being an actual brother to Danny after living with the bats and learning what family relationships are suppose to be like.)
Danny finding out he's adopted- and also a deep-rooted fear rises as something is telling him to really heed Damian (Robin at the time)'s warning. Only hard part is getting his parents to leave when they're about to reveal their grand achievement to the world. So Danny has to juggle sabotaging his parents' portal they're making for the convention, avoiding being kidnapped, figure out who's after his parents invention, and his own turmoil (of being adopted, not remembering who he is, and fear of where he came from) Of course turns out the League of Assassins and Court of Owls are already interested in Fentons' invention.. more importantly the ectoplasm that powers it. Danny really has far too much on his plate. While Damian tries to keep it secret the entire time that Danny is his brother from the other bats as they try to figure out why the assassins and owls are interested and what they plan to do with the Fentons and their inventions. explaining things poorly again LOL my mind been rummaging this idea all day especially after I read Noise and Light by TheWritingOwl last night on Ao3 >w< hehe.
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nohoney · 1 year
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okay this kind of like a crack post but this dialogue is based between me and my ex that i would use to sometimes get my way lol
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“katsuki, please can i-“
“no, how many times do i have to tell you? we have enough of your damn stuffed animals!” your boyfriend gestures to the macrame net that holds all your precious babies up for display in the living room that you made him install, “i already bought you those limited edition cat ghosts you wanted! and just how many more rilakkuma bears do you need?!”
you’re holding up the screen of your phone towards him but katsuki keeps on turning his back so that he won’t see it and so that he won’t see that cute look you always give when you want something really bad. “but this a special edition sakura one! look how cute and soft and pink it is!” you whine to your boyfriend. you know he’ll give in to you; he always does!
god you were always a sucker for anything cute and pink, whether it be dinner plates or ballpoint pens or another damn stuffed animal. this time katsuki remains strong in his conviction, plopping himself on the armchair and picks up his gaming controller so that he can continue from his last saved game file. “i said no and you’re not changing my mind.”
alright… you didn’t want to have to use this.
“wow… i let you cum on my face yesterday and you won’t buy me a teddy bear?”
katsuki’s controller fumbles in his hand and his eyes are comically wide in surprise. “what the fuck? you sucked me off until i came all over your face!”
“uh you asked me yesterday while we were fucking, ‘where do you want daddy to cum, baby?’” you deepen your voice to briefly imitate your boyfriend before going back to your regular voice, “i told you to cum in me but you went around and said, ‘suck me off until i cum’ and i did it because i love you even though i don’t like getting cumshots on my face but you do.”
“you have got to be kidding me! are you really using that against me? to get your damn bear?!” katsuki is nothing short of flabbergasted.
you don’t back down despite how you want to laugh. “i’m just saying it’s a little unpleasant for me sometimes. you know that when it gets in your eye, your lil swimmers don’t know the difference that it’s not an egg they’re trying to knock up and they actually still treat the eyeball as if it’s-“
“alright! i’ll get you your damn bear!”
two weeks later, you’re holding your new purchase in your arms while katsuki holds you. the three of you (yes you count the bear too) are streaming a comedy that just came out recently that kirishima recommended. katsuki adjusts his arms around you and briefly bumps his hand against the new bear. “you don’t get to use that same reason again to get what you want, i hope you know that.”
“don’t let it get in my eye and i won’t have to.”
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spoopyblues214 · 7 months
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Hello! How are you? I hope you are doing well Idk if you are open for request, if not you can ignore this one :)
I’d like to ask for a rottmnt x reader hc with a reader does kisses the back of the boys hand a lot, like those gentlemen-y acts but as a sign of thank you, appreciation, courting as well… maybe reader and the boys have mutual crushes and that’s their way of showing affection / desire to kissing them before actually being more courageous into asking to kissing them? Lol hope that makes e sense
Hope you have a good day
This seems absolutely adorable omg yes
Requests are open! Send an ask if interested :>
°•.•°
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Raph
When you kiss the back of Raphs hand saying goodbye it first catches him off guard
He finds it endearingly silly how you take his large hand in yours to do so, the contrast adorable in his eyes
After the next few times it flusters him, feeling your soft skin on his rough hands from all his years of fighting. He starts looking away to try and hide his wobbly smile.
You get more courageous and start doing it for any little greeting, like seeing him just when entering a room, even if you already saw him when you first got to the lair.
He becomes rather forgetful, needing to refocus on what he had been doing.
He finds himself often looking at his hands where you most recently kissed him, swearing that he could feel the ghost of your lips on his skin and feeling giddy.
One night when leaving you kissed his hand as usual, but you lingered, purposely looking up at him. He glanced at you since you were taking longer and finally it clicked for him.
The next time you're over, before you could reach for his hand he's picked you up in one arm, still offering his free hand to you. You giggle and kiss the back of his hand, and afterwards he kisses your lips, his fingers lacing through your hair.
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Leo
The first time you kiss him across the knuckles he freezes for a moment and then asks, "uh, why so formal?"
Your reply of 'just cause' has him over thinking it until the next time you come over, though it still doesn't click
The second time, he takes your hand and does it back, never one to be outdone on grandeur, and he always greets you the same since then
Each time he tries to come up with a different greeting to say. "Hola mi estrella," "ciao, bello/bella," "hi there, hot stuff!"
Even if your usual reaction is to just laugh at him, he still loves getting any reaction out of you.
All his attempts to fluster you seem like they never even phase you, while when you kiss his hand he's fighting off a wobbly smile.
With this dance going on for so long, finally you meet his greeting with, "surprised you haven't gotten the hint and just kissed me already."
He can't save himself this time and actually sputters, which has you laughing at him again. He huffs and pulls you into a dip, saying "you literally asked for it," before kissing you.
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Donnie
The first time you kiss his hand he is flabbergasted. Jaw dropped, almost looking disgusted but really he's just confused. You go to apologize and he shakes his head, stuttering out, "ah, um, it's fine."
The second time you're slower with it so he can pull away if he wants, and he doesn't, so you go through with kissing his knuckles and are only a little surprised when he does the same.
Is he doing it as a part of masking? Is he doing it to hide his blushing face? Is he doing it in an attempt to return politeness? Perhaps an amalgamation of all this and more.
He is in his lab corkboard and red stringing about these incidents now every time after you kiss his hand, trying to math out every little detail and why the sudden change.
Both of you are pining oblivious shy idiots honestly- reading social cues is already hard enough but with the two of you fumbling no one is getting anywhere any time soon.
Thankfully, or maybe not so, Mikey and Leo make a plan and bring Donnies theory board out into the lair on a night you're visiting.
Donnie is plotting murder while you're stuck not knowing how to react because it's just so romantic that he was trying so hard to figure it out.
You grab his hand and kiss his knuckles again, only to reach out with your other palm and place it on his cheek as you kiss him. His murderous intentions get put on the back burner.
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Mikey
He's curious first but uncharacteristically he freezes stock still when your lips meet his skin. After you wave goodbye he's melting, almost falling to the floor.
The second time you do it you're greeted with a large smile, and Mikey asks giddily, "are you gonna be doing that every time now?" You answer yes.
He's looking smug as he holds out his hand for you ahead of time now, which always makes you laugh, which always makes him smile wider.
He's dancing around the lair. His brothers are rolling their eyes. He's like a teen girl losing their mind over a boy band just from your goodbyes.
On day he asks if he can have another. "Hmm, I don't know 'angelo, what's in it for me?" He plays along and offers a kiss to your knuckles in return. You take this deal, and he knows he's won with how much you blush.
He does this a few more times, just to absolutely 100 percent make sure and totally not just because he likes seeing you blush. It's the same song and dance prior every time, too.
The next time he's smiling so wide you know he's planning something. When he asks for another, you open your mouth with a similar protest to before, and he cuts you off. "I know, I know, a kiss for a kiss. I want both of mine first, though."
You raise an eyebrow, but shrug, taking both his hands to kiss the tops of each. After this he takes one of your hands in his, but the other is under your chin, and he kisses your lips.
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chipchopclipclop · 3 months
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i have finished death mark 2...... thoughts.....
general thoughts is the overall story was.... BAD. LOL.
I'll start with the good. The interactions between Yashiki and alot of the returning cast i really liked, the writing especially in the first few chapters. An example being alot of Yashiki and Daimon's chatter, especially the whole weight of saving lives things that comes back at the end, alot of it was quite sweet and heartwarming similarly between him and other mark bearer characters.
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^^^ BEST CG EVARRRRR....
I liked the choice of Hiroo and Mashita being the two that come in when he's at his lowest, their curtness and refusal to take his attitude was really refreshing, felt really like what he needed at the time lol. In that same vein i enjoyed his characterization alot in the early-mid game, and how it develops. He's such a sensitive guy lollll and it comes through well with how much he cares but near the latter chapters it kind of.... sours.
Though there were a few new characters i liked his interactions with, Abe and Maruhashi specifically i found endearing of the new cast, Alot of them just Die. Or theyre Hime and Michiho AKA the bane of my fucking existence with this game.
They are the two pushed front and center and it is truly its worst aspect, as characters they're shallow personality wise and though you could say that about others in the cast, them being in love with Yashiki on top of it makes it so much worse.
They barely have any scenes where they actually properly interact and feel like they bond at all but for some reason im expected to believe they're suddenly in love with him?? -and in the end they were also dead the whole time, and not even themselves. So it wasn't even real, and somehow any of this is meant to hold any weight to the audience...?? explaining it as the ghosts being desperate for him instead doesnt really make it.. any more compelling (lol the scene at the end where hes like maybe they just wanted those beautiful normal school days they spent by me.... when did that happen yashiki)
I understand Yashiki is probably saddened by the deaths of two young girls but they're treated with so much more weight and gravitas than anyone else in the cast and its so unearned, especially when alot of the other ghosts are somehow way more compelling in that aspect.
He also becomes borderline ooc around them like in what world am i expected to believe he emotionally dumps his burdens on the two highschool girls he barely knows because of how sad he is when hes got like how many other people he knows FROM THE OTHER GAMES he could do that with...????? (AND BASICALLY DOES... ALREADY...?) and it lifts his heart like truly wtf was i reading. HE WOULD NOT FUCKING SAY THAT.JPG
Chapter six is really where it falls off the cliff with this, after hanging out with Hiroo, Mashita and Yasuoka and solving that case they just dissapear from the narrative for a day so he can......... hang out with michiho...?? i couldn't even enjoy murder yashiki in this game because of how ludicrous it felt that the rest of yashiki's companions just dissapeared to make it happen, and no one calls or anything lmfao. I cant imagine how much more compelled i would have felt if he was dealing with that situation with any of the other three around instead of HIME. LIKE I AM ACTUALLY SO INCENSED ABOUT THIS SCENARIO BEING RUINED SO HARD WHEN IT COULD BE SO GOOD BUT I DIGRESS (RIPPING MY HAIR OUT) (CRYING BC I LOVE BLOOD AND HORROR)
Even the first two games weren't as bad as writing women as this!? EVEN IF I HAD TO SEE MASSIVE TITS ON SCREEN THEY WEREN'T TRYING TO JUMP ON YASHIKI AS WELL AS A CENTRAL PLOT POINT (lol kakuya) congrats exp you have outdone yourself with the misogyny.
To continue on the topic of new characters, it feels like so many of them were given so little screen time to make you actually care about them. For how prominent Abe is he barely actually does anything, and Maruhashi instantly dissapears when shes no longer a red herring. On top of this game basically killing off any other character that appears, its hard to get invested in them as characters at all.
You have no opportunities to actually effect their fate as you do in the other two games, so there's even less attempt to immerse you there. Horikoshi comes the closest behind the other two but its because her case with Hanako was easily the strongest and most resonant of the game (lgbt win). Its not even like this is the first time Yashiki saves the lives of kids and bonds with them after, especially with the caveat of being a teacher, like how did you fuck this premise up so bad.
They either needed to commit to more scenes and writing in general to attach you to the new characters or just not have any returning ones show up so prominently if they're not also going to further interact with them.
The overall mystery suffers for it, and while i like the twist of the doll being helpful in this game actually, it is so easy to guess michiho and hime are the departed, and i already didn't even like them so it doesn't hit at all emotionally. Like, i was not feeling very betrayed or anything lol.
Further critiques -> though running around is very fun, the horror in this game really didn't at all compare to the others with the loss of that first person perspective for alot of the exploration, sad.
I also feel like we got more horny shit than we did in NG which is also like lol one step forwards two steps back. Even the gore wasn't as good............... kind of mid in every regard there. I did like the mushroom and scissor stuff, but the bugs and mold ended up just kind of ..... eh...
Mary continues to be the best antag in these games, she slayed and she continues to keep slaying. The sisters were really kind of a letdown in the end, especially since i think i could have enjoyed it if they pulled them off better.
As for my yaoi cocaine score though thats a 10/10 they made yashiki and mashita meow and hiss like cats in this game for some reason, i genuinely think that shattered my mind a little.
I also can't believe they gave us these two panting in unison asmr as well so you could make your own [REDACTED] if you wanted. The departed getting jealous mashita was standing next to him in that one confrontation too like she's calling him a homewrecker..... lol...... also the part where mashita jokes abt him keeping the gun and if you make yashiki go 'then i will 😇' and him immediately backpedaling like okay i was kidding. give it back. very moe very powerful.
I feel like the entire time mashita was on screen he was basically acting as yashiki's brain to keep him from getting too lost in his emotional attachments, truly everyone needs a bitch wife to keep them sane.
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TL:DR this game could be so good (average) if it wasn't so fucking badDDDDDDDDDDDD easily the worst entry in this series...... dont buy it unless its on sale for 4 bucks (this applies to every game) or just watch in on youtube lol.
anyway. beautiful yashiki collection. I CANT BELIEVE MASHITA DIDNT GET A BAD END CG ACTUALLY < / 3 BUT YASHIKI'S IS REALLY GOOD < / 3 SMALL WINS < / 3
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not sure Wether anyone's done this yet? but last night I kept thinking about the great angst potential of a story where Bro zone have to travel through Branch's memories in order to save his life.
like I said the ideas kept coming to me last night like the story could be Branch gets attacked by some sorta parasite that starts slowly draining his life energy while infecting his mind and keeping him in a deep sleep state.
so the only way to save him is for a group of people to do some magic meditation crap courteously of Creek lol to travel into Branch's mind to chase after the parasite which has travelled through his memories.
so of course Bro zone insist on being the ones to go despite Poppy not being sure about the whole thing due to seeing it as somewhat an invasion of privacy especially for someone as private as Branch tho the others remind her its the only way to save his life.
so from then on its just a perfect excuse for some heart-breaking Angst as the Bros follow the trail of the parasite leading them further and further back into different memories of Branch's.
like I imagine things start off seemingly harmless enough where at first they end up in a memory from later on in his Bunker years but still prior to the first film.
and its just Branch dancing around in his Bunny Pyjamas while the Bros all laugh their heads off thinking its just a funny embarrassing memory.
but Bunny Branch feels a tiny tremor in the ground and instantly runs and hides under his Bed clearly panicked thinking a Bergen is approaching.
his Brothers somewhat saddened to see this try to tell him that it was just a minor tremor and he doesn't need to be afraid but they realise that isn't how it works and they can't actually directly interact with anyone in the memories.
their basically just invisible ghosts who can do nothing but watch the memory play out.
anyway they continue following the Trail of the parasite to memories further back they arrive at one with a teenage looking Branch in the Bunker actually getting ready for an outing.
he's in a suit and is trying to tie a proper bowtie and there's multiple invites from Poppy to a Birthday party on the table making it clear to the Bros what's going on.
young Branch takes a deep breath and with a small present in his hand he goes to the entrance of the Bunker which his bros are all happy to see.
only for their smiles to fade when they see him stop right at the entrance looking at the door and hearing some party music going on in the distance.
the Bros despite knowing he can't hear them are all egging him on trying to encourage him to go but after young Branch looks down.
and has an upset and seemingly frustrated expression after a little internal battle as despite clearly wanting to go join the others he can't bring himself to take the risk.
and he throws the present across the other side of the room and walks back to his room in the bunker.
disappointing his brothers and leaving them somewhat somber.
and the next memory could be of when Branch was still a pretty young kid and the Bunker was still in its early stages.
and maybe if we wanna go really over the top in the sad angst department 😭😭 we see little Branch sitting down at a table with multiple chairs having something to eat and we see he's written his brothers names on the other chairs.
saving spots for them for when they would come back and maybe he even has little pretend conversations with them telling them about everything he did that day like setting up their Hideout aka the Bunker.
ending the conversation with a sad little "" I Hope I see you soon ""
and I like to imagine Floyd eventually gets too emotional after seeing all this stuff and walks off on his own with either Bruce or Clay going after him on their own.
with Floyd telling them that he remembers what he would have been doing around this time all those years ago he was just out living it up getting wasted ( on sugar of course lol )
partying into the long hours of the night being a solo performer traveling around living as a carefree party animal.
the other brother tells him its somewhat pointless blaming himself now and they just need to focus on finding the parasite and saving Branch's life.
but still Floyd says he broke the promise he made before but he very determinedly says he isn't going to break another one to him ever again.
so they move on to the next memory which is little kid Branch finishing building Gary maybe commenting on how he'll never leave him and that he can't wait for him to meet his brothers.
further rubbing salt in the wounds for the Brothers but at this point they try and stay headstrong and keep on going in further and the next stop.
sees them at the Trolls tree their taken aback given the amount of years its been since they saw it this way and then they hear a sound and realise Apon looking up that its the sound of little Branch singing.
the Brothers all see Chef looming in the background and they then see their Grandma running towards Branch only for JD completely caught in the moment not thinking straight.
to start running up the Tree towards them as well their Grandma pushes Branch out of the way and JD just makes it to her only to helplessly phase through her.
as she's grabbed by Chef and they all watch as she's taken away what follows is somber moment of silence as they all realise exactly what Branch lived with all those years on his own.
and the Brothers have to watch the memory version of Branch succumb to Grief and lose his colours while they can't even try and comfort him.
after this they finally reach the final stop which isn't actually a memory its just Branch's Bunker with a grown up version of him inside it.
from here on I'm not exactly 100 percent sure what I'd want to happen or be said between them it can just be a nice little climax where this version is the actual present day Branch just trapped in his mind.
and he feels somewhat ashamed that his Brothers would have seen all these moments from his life but JD says he's sorry he had to live with that burden of watching what happened to their Grandma for so long on his own.
Bruce says he shouldn't have had to go through any of that on his own when he was so young and he wishes he'd have come back at any point as he would have taken him with him back to Vacay and he never would have been alone again.
Clay says that he wishes he'd told them some of this stuff himself when they all first met back up so they could have tried to better understand why he felt so hurt by them.
and Floyd simply gives him a Hug without really saying anything.
you could change the way each Bro zone member reacts if you want I'm not dead set on these reactions for them I just thought they were kinda cute.
anyway from here on its pretty simple they find the parasite it takes the forms of people it thinks will best rattle them based on its knowledge so it takes the form of Chef.
but this is a pretty daft move as the brothers just all proceed to kick its butt without any hesitation and after its beaten they all wake up from the sleep state.
but yeah has anyone done anything like this? as like I said I just started thinking about it last night and I couldn't get the idea out of my head as there's so much angst potential 😭😭😭😭
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licorice-tea · 4 months
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I’m A Ghost Of You, You’re A Ghost Of Me Pt. 2
Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x reader, platonic Straw Hat Pirates & reader
Content: slow burn, canon typical violence (nobody actually gets hurt), throwing darts (just for fun), mentions of a g*n (no shooting), reader shoots an arrow from a bow (no one is harmed), reader has special skills typical of a one piece character, bars, mentions of alcohol
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: This one is kind of long and there isn’t much reader x zoro in it, we’re still building up to that lol. There is a mention of him and his relationship to the reader at the end of this chapter though! Oh, and since Usopp is a sniper, but so is y/n (just different weapons) I’ve made it so Usopp’s thing/weapon of choice is his inventions instead! It won’t change the story much at all, but I didn’t want to make it so there are 2 people with the same fighting style on the crew once the reader joins. One last thing- this takes place after the crew has taken down Arlong Park- their next destination is Reverse Mountain, but they just so happened to meet the reader on an island first.
Part 1 • Part 3
Monkey D. Luffy had charmed you from the moment you met him- and vice versa. The two of you, though you had very different backgrounds and aspirations, were both young, free souls with big dreams. He had just begun assembling his crew that would ultimately help him achieve his goal of becoming King of the Pirates. So far, the future king had recruited a swordsman and a navigator. Or at least, that’s what he told you when he found you; in a bar on one of the smaller islands of the East Blue.
It was a quiet day, and the bar was empty save for you and the bartender. You weren’t much of a drinker, but the heat was intense and the bar offered shade and a place to relax. So while the few patrons of the bar drank, you took to playing darts. Alone.
You hold the dart in your right hand with your left arm outstretched as if to focus your aim; poised to throw. Then after a few back and forth movements of your hand- as if to determine the path the dart would take once you let it go- you exhale softly and do just that. The dart flies in a near straight line, only falling slightly at the end of its arc to hit the dead center of the dart board.
With a small smile you hum to yourself and pick up another dart from a box nearby. You don’t even really aim this time though, just steady your hand and repeat those back and forth motions before throwing. This time, you use more force, and the second dart splits the first.
One of the few others in the bar, a tall and burly man in a marine uniform, approaches you after the 4th dart has split 3 others. He puts an arm on your shoulder, and gives you a scrutinizing sort of look as he sizes you up.
“You shoot, kid?”
“Yeah, a bow.”
“Ever thought about being a marine?”
You shrug off his hand, “No, thank you.”
He steps closer, “Oh, so you think you’re too good for us? Wont take orders cause you’re the best, right?” You can smell the alcohol on his breath.
“Sure, something like that.” You respond sarcastically while taking a step back. You’re not one to go looking for a fight, but he’s clearly trying to challenge or test you. Sigh, marines and their pride.
He huffs, then turns to leave and spits in the spittoon by the bar doors. The marine looks back over his shoulder and points at you. “Meet me outside when you’re ready to put your money where your mouth is, kid.”
You simply roll your eyes and take a seat at the bar, as you’re no longer in the mood for playing darts. The bartend comes around to your side to take your order.
“A shirley temple, please.”
He gives you a deadpan look, and when you don’t quirk a smile or admit to it being a joke, he full on laughs at you.
“You’re gonna run from that marine on nothing but a shirley temple, huh kid?”
“Excuse me?”
“He’s still waiting for you outside, no doubt about it. I hope you’re fast.”
You frown and rest your head in your chin, thinking of how you were going to get out of this mess.
Sometime between your confrontation with the drunk marine and your conversation with the bartend, a new group came in. You hadn’t noticed earlier, but you did now as they were clearly watching you. They must have been listening to everything go down, too, based on their expressions.
The bartend leaves your end to go take this new groups orders before eventually coming back to make your drink.
“…I’m not running from anything.” is the answer you settle on as he slides you the bright red shirley temple.
“Sure thing.”
You pull out a few berries from your pocket, but before you can slide them over he waves you off.
The bartend nods his chin to the new group of people, who you realize are still not so subtly staring and talking about you. “Those guys paid for your drink.”
They sure are an interesting bunch. There’s a boy with a straw hat, a girl with orange hair, one man with curly brows and another with a long nose. And they’re just looking at you, mostly (with the exception of the blonde with curly eyebrows, who is giggling with literal hearts in his eyes.)
You nod to the group as a way of saying “thanks”, but you’re not sure if you should approach them… Fortunately, the boy with the straw hat makes that decision for you when he gets up and comes to stand by you.
“Hey!”
“Hi?” You offer a friendly smile, but it’s nothing compared to his huge grin.
“My name is Monkey D. Luffy, and I’m gonna be King of The Pirates!”
All you do is hum in acceptance of his grand statement, “Well, I’m l/n y/n.” You extend a hand to shake, “Nice to meet you.”
“You’ve gotta go fight that marine!” the boy exclaims. He holds his hands in fists, completely ignoring your handshake in favor of making punching motions.
“I- No, I can’t.”
“Why not? You can beat him- I saw you throwing darts!”
“Well, sure, but I don’t want my bounty going up or anything… I’m not looking for trouble, really.” You laugh nervously.
“Psh! He insulted your bravery! And having a bounty is coo-“ He’s cut off by the girl with orange hair who slaps a hand over his mouth.
“Sorry about him. I’m Nami… and you’re some kind of sharpshooter, right?”
You nod as you look between the two of them, then at the rest of their friends who were sitting on the other end of the bar but are now also making their way over.
“Well, y/n was it? I think what Luffy was trying to say-“ she then glares at Luffy, “before he almost outed us as pirates when a marine is outside- is that he’d really like to see more of what you can do.”
“Um… why? I’m not trying to be rude or anything, I just-“
“I want you to join my crew!”
You blink, shocked. “And why would you need me?” you say with a somewhat surprised laugh.
“I want a sharpshooter on my crew, and you have the best aim I’ve ever seen!” He says everything with such excitement, and you like it.
“Really? I’m a good shot, I don’t know about the best…” you giggle. “I’m not even a sharpshooter, I’m a painter; I just do this for fun.”
As you had explained: you didn’t really consider yourself a full blown archer. More like an artist who happened to have a talent for archery, and would use a bow and arrow as a means of protection. It was how you survived; not your dream.
Of course, being an artist whose work is known all throughout the world is a grand and respectable dream all on its own. You knew that- even if others had labeled you foolish or unserious for your passion. Sure, art wasn’t something dangerous that could earn you tons of glory, or even a career with a guarantee of money. But, that didn’t matter to you, because it was what you loved most in life. And, you had become enamored with the idea of beauty for beauty’s sake through many arguments with your parents over the purpose and need for art (beyond being a hobby.) You still doubted yourself occasionally, but the backlash somehow made it easier to believe in yourself when your confidence ran low.
That was over a year ago now, and you’d been making a name for yourself as a painter. You liked to travel between islands to find inspiration in a variety of places and people, but you got by just fine with the berries from selling your work. It was nice, having the freedom to do what you loved most… but this was your chance to follow your dream to someday be a master of the arts. And you felt in some odd way, that this small crew led by a boy no older than yourself; they were a part of that future.
“Ohhh, so that’s your dream then? Perfect! All of the Straw Hat Pirates have dreams!”
“The Straw Hat Pirates? So, you’re the captain then?” You can’t help but smile up at the boy with the Straw Hat. And it makes close to no sense at all, but you have a really good feeling about him- about all of them.
“Yep! Join us, cmon!”
“I… Um…” It’s not like you were really tied down at all. And how often did you meet people like these, who made you feel safe and appreciated even though you had just met?
Well, you did remember one time. But that was over a year ago, and you hadn’t heard from him since.
Nami shakes her head at Luffy once again, “Give them some time to think, would you! Not everyone can just run off with a pirate crew.”
Then, one of the other two crew members who had joined in on the conversation speaks up. “So… are you going to go fight that marine?” says the man with the long nose. “Oh, I’m Usopp by the way.” He gives a friendly wave.
The blonde responds for you; “They don’t have to do anything they don’t want to.” His eyes return from Usopp to you, and the hearts seem to reappear. “And I’m Sanji, it’s really a pleasure to meet you!” He takes one of your hands and shakes it with both of his.
You giggle and shake your head. “No, it’s ok.” You drain the last bit of your shirley temple, then stand up from your barstool. “I’ll do it.”
There are mixed reactions after the initial surprise from the whole crew- minus Luffy, he seems like he knew you would. But once the rest lose their shocked expressions Nami and Usopp both try to talk you out of it while Sanji cheers you on. Luffy simply crosses his arms and nods with a grin, and they all follow you out of the bar.
“But- but wait! You really don’t have to, this will just cause trouble!” Usopp tries to reason with you.
You shake your head, “It’s ok, he’s probably not even here anymore.”
And sure enough when you walk out onto the street, it’s nearly empty. No marines in sight- until you hear him.
“Hey, kid!” The voice comes from further down the street behind you, and you and all the Straw Hat Pirates turn to see who it belong to. Sure enough, there’s the marine- he seems to have sobered up a little, or enough that he’s not slurring his words or stumbling anymore.
As if this were some old western movie, you rest a hand on the bow slung over your shoulder. “Nevermind then. Can you give me a little space guys?” The Straw Hats back away and watch as the marine hurries toward you, stopping about 10 paces away.
“Here to defend your honor, huh?”
“No, that’s silly. I’m here because you interrupted my game of darts.”
He scowls and draws his own weapon- a standard marine issued firearm, by the looks of it.
Before he can even load it or cock it or- whatever they do with guns, how would you know? You draw your bow and knock back a single arrow, but with great force. It hits the barrel of the gun, fully bending it away from the direction your arrow hit it.
The marine, the Straw Hats, and even yourself (though you felt too confident to look surprised) were shocked. For a single arrow to dent the barrel of a gun? Well, you must be one hell of an archer. Yet it was “just a hobby” as you told your new crewmates, and so they were all excited to see the prowess you would exemplify over your actual dream.
He takes two cautionary steps backwards first, then the marine turns and full on sprints away. The Straw Hats all laugh, cheer, and pat you on the back while asking how in the world you did that. You weren’t entirely sure yourself, but were still content with the outcome of the day.
“So now you’ll be part of my crew, right?”
“Yes!” You laugh, “I’d love to.”
You explain to your new crew, or nakama as Luffy calls you, that you just have to go get your bag from the inn you’re currently staying in. The five of you meet back at the docks of the island just a few minutes before sunset, and they show you to their boat; the Going Merry.
But before any of you can begin to board the vessel, Luffy stops and exclaims, “Aw man, where’s Zoro?”
You whip your head around to face Luffy. Did he say Zoro? As in, Roronoa Zoro- the bounty hunter who’d led you get away a year ago to follow your dream? The man you still felt you owed your future to, for what he had done for you…
“Probably lost. Again.” Usopp sighs.
“Sorry, did you say Zoro?”
“Yep, he’s our swordsman!”
You have no words, so you just hum in response. What were the chances of joining the same crew as your… savior? Ally? Friend? The definition of your relationship was not at all set in stone, so you can only rely on what is tangible for now; the growing smile on your lips, and the faster beating of your heart.
Maybe you would get the chance to repay him after all.
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ctitan98official · 3 months
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@ghost-with-a-teacup : Hello! I've never made a request before but I absolutely adore your works, hehe. I'm popping in after reading your latest post about Y/N almost dying after saving the daughters, and you talked about them getting the cadou. I was just wondering if you could write something building off of that prompt; something along the lines of what you think their powers would be as well as them trying to get accustomed to their new abilities with the help of Alcina and the girls? That would be wonderful! Regardless of if you write it or not, keep up the amazing work!! With how much you write I have no idea how you pump out so many ideas, truly leaves me in awe <33 (also your crackfics are fucking amazing LOL). Have a great day~
Thank you so much, friend! That was a good prompt. I had trouble deciding what I thought Y/N’s power would be, but with how mischievous they are, I decided to go with something that they would absolutely wreak havoc with lol! Post this ask is referring to here! Let’s get into it!
You had been mortally wounded trying to protect castle Dimitrescu from hunters intent on killing your loved ones.
You thought you were done for, but Alcina made the decision to try and save you by having Mother Miranda give you the cadou.
It worked. You were so happy to be back with your girls again.
You were very weak when you first woke up but Alcina took excellent care of you.
She fed you and sat with you as you slept. She was just glad you would be okay after all you had been through.
A few weeks after you began recovering, you started noticing that you could… See through things? You thought you were imagining it when it first happened, but Alcina had been sitting right in front of you when you realized you could see her panties and bra from under her dress.
You were so embarrassed that you slapped your hands over your face.
Alcina was startled at your reaction. “Draga?! What’s wrong?” She asked.
You suddenly started laughing like an idiot once you learned what you could do. “I really like that bra, babe. I don’t think I’ve seen that one on you before.” You howled.
Alcina was confused. “What are you talking about, Y/N?!” She said, somewhat weirded out.
“I can totally see through your dress, Alci.” You informed her.
“WHAT?!” She looked down frantically, but her dress was not revealing anything. “Y/N, if this is another of your silly pranks-”
"I can prove it, Alci!” You exclaimed. You focused your attention on the book Alcina had next to her. “Hand me that book, babe!” You asked her.
Alcina was skeptical but gave you the book.
You concentrated very hard and, without opening the book, you were able to read the words on the inside pages.
Alcina’s eyes went wide with shock. “Draga! That must be an acquired skill from the cadou!” She said and brought a hand to her mouth in shock.
You cheered before you thought about something upsetting. “Ew! What if I accidentally see through Karl or Sal’s clothes! Blech, what about Duke or some rando?!” You said, horrified.
Alcina chuckled. “Well, draga. I guess that’s payback for all of the trouble you’ve ever caused.”
You cringed and screamed. “AHH! What if I accidentally see through the girls’ dresses?!” You said. You wanted to claw your eyeballs out.
Alcina didn’t find that part to be as funny. It was mutually decided that you would stay at Karl’s factory until you had better control of your powers. Better to be safe than sorry.
Karl was actually a good teacher. He had trained himself to be able to control his metal powers and he had tips to share with you.
After a few days with Karl, you discovered that you had another power. You were able to make yourself completely invisible!
You pranked and scared the shit out of him a couple of times until he got so mad that he kicked you out. Luckily, you had a pretty good grasp of your powers now.
You returned home to the castle and immediately went to go see Alcina… Well, you may have made yourself invisible first.
When you went into Alcina’s bedroom, you almost busted out laughing when you saw her practicing her smoke rings. She looked so focused and cute.
You snuck up beside her, and said “Boo.”
Alcina shrieked and almost fell back in her chair. Her hat went flying.
You started laughing crazily and made yourself visible again. “Sorry, babe! Couldn’t resist!” You said through your wheezing.
When I tell you Alcina bitch-smacked you so hard, smh. It didn’t hurt, though. You had also acquired heightened healing abilities and stronger skin like the rest of The Lords.
She questioned where you came from and you told her that you were able to make yourself invisible too.
Alcina groaned when she realized that these powers could not have been given to a worse person.
For as much of a troublemaker as you are, though, you keep your pranks with your X-ray vision and invisibility to a minimum. It was just too easy to prank someone that way. You were better than that and took your self-designated title of Prank Master seriously.
And yes, you could totally see, not only though Alcina’s dress, but through her bra and panties too, now. You use that particular skill on her a little bit too much.
Masterlist
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ganondoodle · 11 months
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this isnt as long as before but i just cannot stop thinking about this, why i dislike story and lore boils down to these main point
--the ending feels unsatisfying as hell even if i ignore everything i dont like about how the game treated zelda and ganondorf, the ending itself just feels, despite being presented as super epic an touching, incredibly empty to me and part of it is that it feels like an unearned return to status quo of course i didnt think zelda would stay a dragon and i actually wanted to help her, which is why i kept trying to hunt down impa since she said shes gonna search for a way for us to help zelda, bc i wanted to!! i was eager to help her!
i fully hoped and kinda expected that thered either be some kind of dragon dungeon (think, the water dragon from okami) tho that would be difficult since you can get items from her so i ended up thinking before going into the end thered be a mission with impa (or at least given to you from her) where she found answers in ancient scripts (that she told you she would look through) and that you need to find a special lil thing that will help zelda undragonfy, like some sort of ultra secret forbidden enigma stone able to reverse dragon transformations kinda deal (golden opportunity to make you go and talk to the yiga bc they might know or even own some ancient texts) that youd keep in your inventory until the very end and after you kill dragondorf (pretty mortal for becoming an immortal dragon huh) you take it out and use it, undragonfying zelda and ending in a similar epic falling and paralel to the beginning way
... and instead impa stays in the house and only has a few repeating dialog boxes and does nothing and you cant do anything bc in the end you just get randomly teleported (and stripped of your clothing AGAIN) into some weird ethereal plane somehow?? with the ghost of long ass dead sonia and apparently not as gone as i thought rauru (seriously i felt sad when he went poof at the end of the tutorial but i guess i shouldnt have) awkwardly blasting dragon zelda with some magic tm and its all reversed no problem (heck me for caring i guess) turns out helping her was killing an evil guy we never really knew and mineru just kinda says lol its bc time and light magic i guess lol as an explanation
like i really wanted to go and help zelda! i was motivated to do it and spent HOURS trying to find impa again but i wasnt allowed to do anything bc zelda gets saved by some deus ex machina bs in the end anyway, what a fool i was, of course killing the evil guy is the solution to everything >:( (and no i dont care if its meant as in uwu sonia and rauru wanted to help one last time uwu bc it doesnt change how unsatisfying it was to watch it all just kinda happen)
--point two is just how much totk feels like its trying to REPLACE botw instead of being a sequel, its not building on anything of it its ripping out the fundation and building its own thing in its place, like i was so excited to see what happened to the titans, and all the sheikah tech what they mabe had done in all that time now that theres a tech enthusiastic girl as the head of the monarchy, maybe even find out more about them and instead its just all ... gone with not explanation? theres isnt even a LAME explanation, its just gone?? you never find out what the ancient energy actually was, and why there were concentrations of it in the regions with the ancient furnace (well heck it didnt even have anything to do with ganondorf actualyl bc that would have been too interesting) bc that was so intrigueing?? like yeah where DID it come from and why is it there ?? and oh suddendly hey look theres an even MORE ancient and even MORE advanced civilization thats way COOLER and BETTER than the ancient sheikah now, they also built stuff everywhere and have been here ALL ALONG cant you see its everywhere!! and its the only thing everyone cares about all of the sudden, all evdidence of the ancient sheikah tech was scraped of the earth so there literally only being some guardian parts on top of the hateno lab feels like an oversight now bc everything lese was to thourohgly wiped of the map- for no reason even?? like im totalls fine with it being useless and not working anymore but .... why remove it like it was wiped from history?? and then they have the gall to mention the happenings of botw like, twice in the entire game but still just give you the most basic summary of it mentioned on a sidenote with again not even a hint what happened to all of it
wouldnt there have been the golden opportunity to use it to access the new parts and map points that changed?? like a shrine thats fallen into the underground, an access to caves and the underground in the broken and collapsed elevator tube of a sheikah srhine?? maybe even a broken interior of an old shrine, like the room you get put into with the puzzle and where the monk once were broken and half overgrown in the udnerground? some left over construction site where you can see oh thats how the ancient sheikah got all that tech underground, bc they all had access to it and built it there to then rise up when its needed? maybe even making use of the old sonau sites since they frequnetly built their srhines within those ruins?? that the ancient sheikah found em and put the ruins to use? to research it and built their own stuff from it? it wouldnt have to have any focus, literally just part of the enviroment even
really everything totk does is like -forget botw ever happend, look how much cooler and better i am, who cares about sheikah stuff sonau are the new cool guys that came out of nowhere but now apparently have been everywhere all along actually-
i LOVE botw and with it feeling much more like its attempting to replace botw instead of building its story and world further every reference to botw i found felt like a slap in the face instead, oh look where the shrine of life used to be isnt even a hint left of sheikah tech somehow, and also right under it is the lake of healing filled with sonau structure bc ACTUALLY they were here FIRST bc they are so cool omg you guys
dare i say it feel a little like they wanted to make an entirely different version of botw basically, but wanted to reuse the map and models so they just said yeah uhhhh its totally a sequel yeah yeha that makes sense, its not erasing botw and doing essentiall the same thing again but bigger cooler and better (tm) its just uuh a ...sequel ye.
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antianakin · 8 months
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I don’t know if you’re actually watching the Ahsoka series or not, but I was very curious on your thoughts on the newest episode, and the confrontation between Anakin and Ahsoka.
Bro traumatized her again. Lol. 😒🙃
I’m actually kind of satisfied that she showed a little resentment, but I still don’t like that she didn’t cuss him out or something.
Anakin not apologizing is infuriating at first glance, but I also think it fits his character.
It’s funny, if I think about it in a certain way: I wonder if Anakin himself views his “redemption” kind of the same way his fans do. He’s just like, “Why are you still pissed at me? I died stopping the Emperor, didn’t I?” 🙄
The only one I think he’d actually feel sad about is Leia, because of course he’d want his daughter to like him, but she never will now, because he fucking tortured her and blew up her planet.
You know… I don’t really view Anakin’s final moments as a true “redemption” in the eyes of the galaxy. George Lucas has a quote where he says parents are redeemed in the eyes of their children. I guess you could argue that Anakin redeemed himself in Luke’s eyes, but not the galaxy’s own.
And then there’s Leia, who will never forgive him or think of him as her father.
In a way, it’s almost fitting for Anakin, that each of his children represent something for him.
Luke represents forgiveness, and how it’s never too late to do the right thing.
Leia represents his mistakes and sins. As long as she lives, he’ll always look at her and remember the damage he’s done. She’d never let him forget it.
Which is funny, when going back to the recent Ahsoka episode, and how he was acting like a dick to Ahsoka.
Personally, I think he was purposely trying to piss her off to make her fight to not die.
Still though: he’s such a jackass. 😒
Anyways, I guess my main point is that I don’t view Anakin being a Force Ghost shows that he was “redeemed.” I view it more as a type of salvation. Like the Bible story where Jesus is on the cross with two other men next to him. And then one man decides to “believe in him” or whatever, and his soul is saved by the skin of his teeth.
This is kind of how I view Anakin’s act of saving Luke. His soul was saved, because he did a heel face turn at the last second. So The Force was like, “Good enough, I guess.” *Throws up hands*
Anyways, sorry for the long rambling. I hope you don’t mind the message. Haha. 😅 I just have found your blog really therapeutic, because while I like Anakin as the fascinating character that he is, it still just kills me how fandom woobifies him and blames the Jedi for their own genocide.
I don't mind this message at all, thanks so much for sending so many of your thoughts, this was great! It's going to be a long reply back, though, since there's so much to respond to and if you've been going through my blog, this probably won't surprise you.
I AM watching the Ahsoka show, I'm just putting my thoughts about it on a different blog to this one (this blog was created for me to be negative so I usually only review things on here if I KNOW I'm going to be negative about it, but I was hopeful I'd have positive things to say about the Ahsoka show lol).
I think I'm feeling RELATIVELY mediocre about the show. Like I don't hate the whole thing, I can see why it appeals to people, but it's not really hitting at what I would've wanted from a narrative perspective. It seems to be relying on fan service and pretty visuals rather than genuinely good writing to get them through. If you happen to be the fan being serviced, you probably like it fine. But if you are someone more like me, then you might be noticing that there aren't a lot of stakes, the character motivations are weak or missing, the two storylines aren't being spliced together very well, and the dialogue's just not that great. There's also several more nitpicky things that are really pissing me off about the show (the way they're treating Force sensitivity, Sabine being a Jedi at all for no good reason and how her character is being butchered, the very distant and aloof acting I feel like we're getting from everybody, and of course the requisite anti-Jedi bullshit that we can all expect from Filoni at this point).
But as for how I felt about Anakin and Ahsoka's scenes in the latest episode this week, I am personally of the opinion that it WASN'T Anakin at all. I know it's left ambiguous, so if people feel like it was truly Anakin in some way shape or form, that's fine, but I think it makes more sense to me personally that it wasn't. This is Ahsoka's manifestation of Anakin in a moment where she's literally drowning and emotionally at something of a low point and has to decide if she's going to live or not and that conflict plays out in her head the way we see it. I'm also open to the idea that this is one of those things where the Force "tests" the Jedi not unlike what we see happen on Ilum and Mortis and the Force is just utilizing Anakin's visage to bring Ahsoka's deepest fears out into the open.
What makes it interesting to me is that then we can look at the interactions as THIS IS HOW AHSOKA SEES HIM. Whether she thinks about it that deeply or not, THIS personality is how she remembers him. The immediate choice to be violent with her and test her fighting skills rather than talk to her more gently, the dismissive attitude he has towards her, the flickering back and forth between Anakin and Vader because she doesn't truly know which one he was most. He wasn't necessarily a great teacher and his way of teaching wasn't very Jedi-like, it's ruthless and merciless and unkind, and we see that reflected in their interactions in this episode, which could be a really interesting look at how Ahsoka still remembers him even if she didn't see it negatively at the time.
So him not apologizing isn't like... an indication of how Anakin might actually handle this interaction if it were truly him so much as just... Ahsoka being unsure sure if he WOULD apologize because she has no idea how much of him was Vader the entire time and Vader would clearly never apologize. I think the Anakin we see by the end of ROTJ probably would apologize at SOME point, especially if we're supposed to see him as redeemed and acknowledging/accepting of his sins, etc. But Ahsoka doesn't know that. Ahsoka probably kind-of knows through Luke that he turned back in his last moments, but she wasn't there for that, she didn't get to see it, and she obviously still has no idea what caused him to turn on the Jedi and become a Sith to begin with. Why did he come back for Luke and not her? Was it because she abandoned him? Did he just not care about her the way she thought? Was there something intrinsically wrong with her that he recognized from the beginning?
There's just too much uncertainty perhaps for Ahsoka to know if he'd actually apologize and she doesn't even necessarily need or want an apology so much as she just wants to UNDERSTAND. Because of course it leads into her doubts about HERSELF and whether being his apprentice (even for as short of a time as it was) has somehow influenced her to be more like him and if she should be worried that she'll go dark or cause a student of hers to go dark. If she doesn't know why HE made that choice, how can she trust herself? It's not entirely dissimilar to the statement she made at the end of the Wrong Jedi arc where she claims she's leaving the Jedi because if the Council couldn't trust her then she isn't sure she can trust herself, either. And now with Anakin going dark, she has to wonder if the Council saw something of that in her when no one else did, saw a future for her that she hadn't been able to see for herself yet.
I think personally I'd just rather look at this episode as the closest we're going to get to a "deep dive" into Ahsoka's psyche and character rather than try to analyze it as like "what does this say about Anakin." It's not Anakin's story anymore, it's Ahsoka's. Or it's supposed to be, anyway.
That all being said, I don't think it went far enough and I do dislike that we didn't get to dive into OTHER aspects of Ahsoka via other relationships in order to round out who she actually is. I don't think we know any more about her at the end of the episode than we did at the beginning. I don't think she really grows or changes through the episode at all. I don't know what the whole "choose to live" thing was about or how it connects to her overall arc because while, yes, she's obviously literally drowning in the moment, "choosing to live" is not something they've been exploring as an issue for Ahsoka throughout this season so far, so it didn't feel like this cool end to her character journey so much as just a really shallow one-liner made to sound badass without anything particularly profound behind it.
I think gffa said that one of the things you can tell about this show is that it's been percolating in Filoni's mind for so long that there's things he's leaving out because they're just totally obvious to him now and he's forgotten that the audience won't know some of it without being told or shown. If Ahsoka was depressed or suicidal or something like that, it never came across in the first four episodes. She barely seems to be struggling at all to me, personally. So maybe that's what Filoni wanted us to understand about her, maybe that was the intention, but it just didn't quite make it from his head into the writing or onto the screen.
And I keep going back to the Obi-Wan Kenobi show and the way they handled his character arc. They started him at a really low point where he's so CLEARLY depressed and just moving through life without actually living or finding any way to be happy. They spend so much time showing us how OUT of character Obi-Wan is in order for the pay off by the end and the slow growth of his character throughout the six episode story to feel satisfying. And while he's out of character in his depression, it's done in such a way that that's the POINT. We all know WHY he's out of character, we know what's causing him to be that way, it doesn't need to be explained because it didn't happen off-screen, it's literally the plot of an entire trilogy of films. It felt like a pretty natural extension of the state we last saw him in and it allows him the ability to actually have a journey that makes sense.
We've gotten NONE OF THAT for Ahsoka. Her relationship with Sabine is nonsensical and comes out of nowhere with zero explanation. Her weird thing about Padawans comes out of nowhere with zero explanation. Her aloof attitude is coming out of nowhere and does nothing to help us understand the state of mind she's in. She never seems to be acting SO out of character that it tells the audience how much she's struggling, but she's also SO flat that she no longer feels much like the Ahsoka everyone knew and loved from The Clone Wars. They're inventing new problems for her to have that make no sense instead of giving her a journey to actually deal with the problems she already had and hadn't gotten any resolution for. And they're unable to actually connect her problems from before into the Rebels storyline in a way that makes any real sense or feels genuine and meaningful for either Ahsoka or Sabine, so both storylines are getting half-assed and butchered in the attempt.
Personally, I think Ahsoka should've had a season set closer to ROTJ or even before it, just after she gets off of Malachor and 2-3 years prior to ANH, to explore her immediate reaction to Anakin's betrayal and have her overcome that on her own. Use original characters primarily, throw in Bail Organa or something if needed just to give her a quick plot, but let it be about AHSOKA. And only once her journey to finding herself is complete do we then move on to the Search for Ezra, which should be focusing WAY more on the Rebels characters than we're actually getting and should not involve any of the Rebels characters (except maybe Jacen) learning to be Jedi. Ahsoka would be a side character in this story because she has now had her story told and we can let Sabine and Ezra and Jacen and Hera be at the forefront of the story. (I also think we could've done something with Sabine that wasn't being a Jedi or her entire family being murdered off screen so she has an excuse to do a characterization 180 and act like a bratty teenager all over again.)
If I had to just change THIS episode a little, I have a few alternatives I've been thinking about. For one, I do just think we should've gotten to explore OTHER relationships beyond Anakin to emphasize the other things that Ahsoka is that aren't just "Anakin's Padawan." Rex, Barriss, Plo Koon, even Kanan or Ezra to try to make that connection to Rebels. She's been a friend, a commander, a rebel, a student, a mentor, an ally, a Jedi. She's been so many things that have nothing at all to do with Anakin and I think that might've been nice to explore as well. Yes, Anakin was important. Yes, she's fucked up about it. But that's not ALL THAT SHE IS. So I think starting off with her fears about Anakin is great, but then have her move on and sort-of go through it a little like Charles Dickens' A Christmas Story to show that she's more than this, too. This probably would've worked better if it had been a two parter thing rather than one 30-40 minute episode, depending on how many characters you wanted to throw in.
I also would've appreciated seeing her break and shatter at seeing Anakin. I wanted her to be ANGRY, to refuse to forgive him, to throw his betrayal in face. And then by the end of the episode, she lets it go. She's seen that she doesn't need to hold onto that anymore and it doesn't matter what choices Anakin did or didn't make, she's her own person and can make HER own choices. And so Anakin comes back at the end, and she's no longer angry. She can forgive him. I also would've wanted her to have been more snappy and frustrated and angry earlier in the season, as well, so we can TELL there's something simmering underneath that she's trying to keep repressed until it finally boils over in this episode.
The other alternative I came up with was the OPPOSITE idea where Ahsoka is basically just kind-of... in denial about it. She isn't acknowledging her own anger and pain and betrayal at all and she just wants to spend this time with Anakin the way they used to and Anakin is sitting there provoking her and trying to get her to break so she can let it all out. Eventually he gets her to admit it and get angry and yell at him and acknowledge her own pain finally so she can see how it's impacting her relationships in the present day. She's been trying up until now, but as Yoda's always said, sometimes trying isn't enough, and you just have to do or do not. She doesn't reject him at the end of this, but she can at least acknowledge what he did to her and how it's made her feel. You could even include some of her anti-Jedi bullshit in this and have her justifying Anakin's betrayal by saying the Jedi failed him the way they failed her and Anakin pushing back on that idea so that by the end of the episode, she can recognize that she's been blaming the Jedi because she's been uncomfortable with her inability to understand Anakin's choices and it was easier to blame the Jedi than live with that uncertainty.
I've discussed my feelings on Anakin's redemption a lot and they're definitely not in the majority. Personally, I just don't think he's redeemed at all. My definition of redemption is along the lines of "you can fix/undo the thing you broke/damaged" rather than just... "you decided to stop breaking things even if there's no way to fix it." It doesn't mean Anakin can't keep being a better person if he'd lived, or that he can't find redemption in more specific places (like Luke forgiving him for chopping off his hand), but that there is no redemption for what he did to the Jedi, to the clones, and to the galaxy at large. None. It doesn't matter what he does, it doesn't matter that he stopped himself and Palpatine, it doesn't MATTER. The Jedi and the Republic are still gone, the clones were still enslaved, the galaxy is still in shambles and traumatized from 25 years under the Empire.
You aren't the only one who's chosen to separate your definition of "redemption" from something else to make it make more sense. Someone else went for redemption being different from an absolution wherein you are just immediately forgiven of all of your sins because of one act or whatever, while redemption is the process of doing better. If that works for you, go for it. Personally, I just think Anakin isn't redeemed. He cheat coded his way into being a Ghost and the Ghosts don't make any sense anyway. I think it's definitely intended to represent his redemption IN THE NARRATIVE, like that's the point of the visual, but it just doesn't work for me, so I choose not to see it that way. It's ambiguous enough and the Force Ghost lore confusing enough that it's not that hard.
Your interpretation of Luke and Leia as the two sides of forgiveness is intriguing. I do think Leia could get to the point of forgiveness that basically looks like letting go of her anger because the man's dead anyway so there's no real point staying angry and understanding the history that may have led him to become the monster she knew, but that doesn't mean she has to LIKE him or ever consider him a father.
I think you could kind-of throw Ahsoka and Obi-Wan in there as different reactions to Anakin, too. With Ahsoka as someone who sort-of clings to who Anakin used to be and can't truly reconcile the two versions of him that she knew, and Obi-Wan as someone who rises above. Unlike Leia, he did know and love Anakin, but he is also able to let go of his anger and betrayal and accept Anakin for what he is now rather than pining for someone who no longer exists. And Ahsoka is the opposite of Luke as someone who also knew Anakin and loved him, but struggles a lot MORE with the revelation of who he was and his impact on her life. Everyone approaches Anakin and his relationship to them and his choices in a different way.
I wish the Ahsoka show wanted to explore any of that at all lol.
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no because, supernatural is absolutely a train wreck. it's a colossal accident that is happening in front of you that you can't look away from. it is homophobic and non-sensical and downright laughable at times but you know what? I love it. I absolute love it.
season 1 was absolutely beautiful. you don't understand, really, you don't. they had a piss poor budget, you can see that in every frame. but does that stop it from being fucking beautiful? no. it is stylised and ambitious and a fucking visual treat.
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and this is like the first fucking episode. the shots have so much character! and that's nothing to say of the characters themselves. from the first fucking scene you can clearly distinguish sam and dean's character clear as day. their motivations, their dreams, their hopes, all of it. it's established so well. their dynamic is unmatched. does it also have a lot of garbage? yes for sure. because what in the name of hell was that episode with bugs? what glue were they sniffing when they green lit that one? no seriously... I wanna try some.
but then they recovered, cause they did faith. my god, what an episode. WHAT AN EPISODE. that motherfucking reaper haunts my every waking hour
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like yeah, I love me some baby dean and baby sam going on their small scale ghost hunts while learning deep lessons about who they are as people and what they want from life.
also that 'laugh I nearly died' needle drop? where sam sees jess? god tier editing, GOD TIER.
then they came back with season 2. and here is my most controversial opinion that should not be controversial at all, season 2 is the best season of supernatural to ever supernatural.
what is and what should never be, hollywood babylon, heart, nightshifter, and the whole fucking season actually. not a single miss in my humble opinion. and that finale? THAT FINALE. beautiful, magnificent. ground breaking character writing, everything comes full circle while simultaneously opening up new plot lines to explore.
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and my god, yellow eyes is an epic villain. he is a very viciously written villain like, he's... my god. it ain't a walk in the park writing villains, believe you me patient readers, villains are harder to write than the protagonists, always. well, at least the compelling ones are.
now season 3 suffered because of the writer's strike, but didn't miss much either. like yeah some of the hits don't hit as hard as the season 2, but hey, mystery spot, time is on my side, ghostfacers, bedtime stories are nothing to laugh about. those episodes are fucking solid, like most of the season. and there is so much raw emotion is sam's need to save dean, it just makes my weak winchester brothers loving heart throb a little too hard. also...
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need I say more?
does the show did look little more washed out and boring? yes. but it's cool, cause we're moving on to season 4.
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listen, I kinda just wanna leave all my season's critique at this. i mean, yeah this. this is it. this is the long and short of it; castiel. i don't think i need to get anymore into it
so season 5 is just—
i'm kidding. obviously i'm gonna talk about season 4, at length.
listen, being able to introduce angels this late in the game and then have them be a such perfectly hidden players is a masterstroke of genius. it just is. i am a writer guys... apart from the relentless fanfic as well lol. and when i tell you, introducing a new big player which is also (not so) secretly the next big bad and playing it off as smoothly as they did in season 4, is beyond hard. but the biggest home run these fuckers hit is castiel and the best part is they weren't aiming for a one lol. and oh oh, the way they use their very VERY limited budget to show wings with just flashing the fucking light? CINEMA! that's fucking cinema right there man. i work on film sets, i am telling you, this is the smartest filmmaking choice they make on the entire show. it adds so much visual intrigue while being so awfully easy to execute. BRILLIANt.
now i cannot talk about supernatural without talking about the deancas romance of it all, which i understand not everyone can see or wants to, which is fine. to each their own. you consume art the way you want to, i don't care much as long as you can acknowledge that castiel and dean's friendship was just some of the best written television that mankind has ever seen. is that too grand a statement? yes. does that make it any less true? no.
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they even brought back the moody lighting.
and then there's the episodes this season, most of which are home runs in their own regard. just like beautiful writing, the character development for cas, for dean, for sam, even the late john winchester is wild. anna is a wonderful addition, so is uriel, and alastair? they don't make villains like him anymore, they just fucking don't. AND THAT GODDAMN PLOT TWIST AT THE END? man! the finale was just... too good. Chuck's introduction is absolutely wonderful, even if they ruin him by the end but that happens a decade later so wtv, who cares? But,,,, Jimmy. Fucking. Novak. That's all. that's the tweet. yeah. i'm gonna end the season 4 fan fair with jimmy.
moving to season 5.
subjectively speaking, this is my fucking favorite. this season is a writer's dream while also being their goddamn nightmare. so many WONDERFUL characters to play with and such a grand plot but you get to see it all on a very small, consumable scale which is just... it's too smart for me to not mention. i won't start naming the plot points and neither will i name my favourite episodes because what even is the point? all of it was fucking perfect. you don't understand how hard it is to develop characters to such an extent that they become so familiar to the audience that they know their next move before you even put it on the screen. and supernatural had that. they tied everything together with so much care and consideration, just... AAAH so good.
a special shoutout goes to endverse!cas, crowley and death this season. you all know it in your bones that those three were just the absolute scene stealers. especially death's introduction... immaculate.
they did lose a few points for not being as aesthetically pleasing as the past few seasons but hey, gabriel was enough to make a smooth recovery.
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but this... this is the end of the road for me people. season 5 is where it should have ended. in no way shape or form am i saying that there aren't a few good episodes here and there after this, because there are. i think season 5 was so fucking solid, tied up so many goddamn lose ends and then just put a cute little hell shaped bow on top and i just... yeah. this was and should have been the end of the road. do not get me wrong, i love me some jack kline, charlie bradbury, kevin tran, rowena macleod and eileen lahey but were they worth the bullshit ending i had to sit through? not really.
i absolutely think if there weren't more episodes of supernatural I would never have become a destiel fan, because i started shipping them when dean made cas a mixtape in season TWELVE! but my god, the good times were so scattered amongst the horseshit that even when i found those hidden gems, they were so fucking drenched in the stink that they lost their value.
the worst of it all is that, i cannot explain to you what supernatural means to me in a million words, because it is a part of me, heart and soul. i fucking AM castiel. i am a gay little angel you hear me? i love this show. i do. i'm glad it went on for however long it did but i feel like once in a while i need to write shit like this or read shit like this to remind myself of the show that it used to be. of it's beautiful cinematography, of it's clever little storytelling techniques. of it's wonderful cast. of how epic their song choices used to be.
FUcking RENEGADE? iconic. wanted, dead or alive? cannot hear the song without hearing sam's off tune goat bleating that he called singing along.
i need to remind myself of how afraid i used to be of lucifer. of how much i cried while watching dark side of the moon; when dean and sam burst the crackers, and how i learnt the lyrics to knocking on heaven's door just because of that scene.
sometimes i just have to walk through memory lane and look back at gabriel's death, the good one, the only one. it was so fucking meaningful. i have to think of "we are making it up as we go" to be able to breathe properly because those moments were so fucking beautiful.
fuck the big ones, i even remind myself of the small ones, of dean's handwriting being in all caps, just like him. of sam's fucking huge laptop with that weird blue black sticker in the middle. of castiel's tie, that just was the right shade of blue, and hung all wrong but just naturally enough to add so much more to his character than any fucking dialogue could. every small little detail of supernatural that made it so damn supernatural. i miss it all.
idk. i'm rambling. whatever.
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