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#look at where we are look at where we started the fact that we're alive is a miracle. if you even care
leopah · 2 months
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Then vs now
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transxfiles · 2 years
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lost phineas and ferb episode where perry is called to investigate what dr doofenshmirtz is up to because carl the intern got ahold of some intel that doof has been seen speaking to lawyers and looking up the endangered species act at internet cafes and as major monogram says, "something fishy is going on"
meanwhile phineas and ferb's subplot of "i know what we're gonna do today!" is that isabella needs her environmentalist fireside girls badge so they start researching which species are in urgent need of help in the tri-state area so that they can use new cloning and gene therapy technologies to bring at-risk animals back from extinction
(yes there is a c-plot where buford and baljeet argue the ethics of this idea, i don't have time to explain it all for you rn)
we cut back to🎵doofenshmirtz evil incorporated🎵where we see perry carefully maneuvering around doofenshmirtz's lab scared he might fall into a trap but he hasn't set off a single booby trap and it's clear something is off
he runs into doofenshmirtz and goes to kick him in the gut action movie style but doof steps back one overly confident and says, "nuh uh uh, you see perry the platypus, you are TRAPPED! by the danville section of the endangered species act of 1973!"
doof goes on to explain his tragic backstory: "you see, perry the platypus, when i was a child my parents did not show up for my own birth! but you know that already, yadda yadda yadda they did not love me and then they loved roger more, ANYways i was raised by ocelots! i had a lovely foster mother who took me in and made me one of the pride, and so you see, perry the platypus, i am still legally considered an ocelot. did you know that there are only 50 recorded ocelots still alive in the continental united states? very sad for me as a member of a near-extinct species. it would be immoral for you to hurt someone critically endangered... in fact, you have made many attempts on my life this summer"
[montage of doof's security camera footage of their battles]
"which is why i have decided to bring you... TO COURT!" we cut back to phineas and ferb's back yard where they've decided to start cloning ocelots in their kiddie pool
candace storms outside enraged and says, "phineas and ferb are you cloning ocelots in my duckie momo kiddie pool!?"
ferb's one line of the episode is "well, i guess it's more of a kitty pool, now"
candace storms away saying, "i'm going to tell mom!" and isabella turns to phineas and says, "oh, does your mom have experience in wildlife conservation?"
we cut back to the doof and perry plotline where the two are now in the danville hall of justice and we learn that doof has spent his monthly alimony check on a defense lawyer and perry turns and sees the lawyer and then vanessa helping her organize her briefcase and perry chitters at her and vanessa shrugs and says, "i'm thinking about going into legal defense. sorry perry."
the rest of the doof and perry b-plot is spent in court and perry is about to ask for a public defense lawyer when carl runs into the room and explains that he's owca's official legal defense and perry looks at him like, "uhhh is that even allowed?"
it doesn't matter because apparently the judge is out sick today but because it's danville roger's the judge now because he's the mayor and everyone loves him.
the court case continues.
meanwhile phineas and ferb have successfully cloned multiple ocelots from the original ocelot dna they had on hand and isabella asks phineas if these clones will experience health problems like premature aging, phineas casually explains that ferb figured out the problem while they were experimenting with stem cell harvesting.
back in the courtroom, doof's ocelot foster mother has been brought to the stand along with an ocelot to english translator. doof gets emotional seeing her after so long. she says that he was one of her favorite child and he was as strong a hunter as anyone else in the family. it's incredibly sweet. the jury's in tears.
meanwhile, isabella has established connections with a group in texas who are going to release the ocelots back into their natural habitat and, using the cloned ocelots to prevent inbreeding, help establish an ocelot breeding program. the group explains that they are going to send a helicopter to retrieve the cloned ocelots from danville and bring them to texas soon.
isabella gets her fireside girls badge.
candace manages to get mom to see the backyard only after the ocelots have been helicoptered off to coastal texas, their primary habitat.
mom makes it into the backyard as phineas stares wistfully over the fence and says, "if you love something, you have to let it go." candace goes, "look mom look look look!" and points at the ducky momo kiddie pool, devoid of cloned ocelots, where baljeet and buford are now chilling out, having settled their philosophical debate about the ethics of animal cloning.
back in the courtroom drama, doof looks like he's about to win when an attendant walks into the courtroom and whispers something in roger's ear.
roger looks up, grinning, and says, "good news, everyone! my attendant here has just enlightened me that ocelots are no longer considered critically endangered!"
this settles the case, with perry being decreed not guilty and the entire affair being called off. the courtroom cheers, roger walks over to doof and personally congratulates him on his species' return from the brink of extinction.
doof shouts, "curse you endangered species classification system!" at the ceiling of the danville hall of justice.
perry arrives back home just in time for mom to say, "who wants pie?"
the end.
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whateversawesome · 23 days
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Spy x Family Chapter 97: An Old Love Story
Okay, say it with me: FOIL!
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You can see it too, right? Looks like Martha x Henry (Henderson)'s story is a foil of Twilight and Yor's story.
Henderson was in Twilight's place; the smart, lonely young man so focused on his ideals that he was blind about who was in front of him and his very own feelings.
Martha was in Yor's place, the strong and graceful girl too young and inexperienced to know her own heart and that she was in love.
This is exactly what's happening with Twiyor, the main couple of the story, and I think we may get to see one of the possible endings for our beloved Twiyor through Martha and Henderson story.
Now, what do we know about these two 🤔...
We know that Henry Henderson has a daughter and a son-in-law. It was mentioned he writes to them, but there was no mention of his wife. This leads me to believe that:
His wife is no longer alive.
He lives with his wife, so there's no reason for him to write to her.
He is divorced.
So, with this information we still can't know what's the current relationship between Martha and Henry, but we can take a guess 😉
From the way the story is being told, it almost feels like it's a semi-tragic love story, doesn't it? We can almost assume that they didn't end up together...or did they?
Theory one: Yup, everyone is right and Martha and Henderson eventually went their separate ways for reasons we'll probably get to know in the next couple of chapters.
If this theory is right, I think it's beautiful that they are getting a second chance 💖They certainly look more mature, confident, and calm (also elegant!). I love the way they look at each other, so much trust and love 😌
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Theory two: I know this one is a long shot (and Henderson just said in that panel that "She is merely and old friend") but maybe...they're actually married. Why am I so bold to even consider that possibility?! Well, there's this panel:
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The matron is clearly teasing Master Henderson, don't you agree? If she does it, it's because she knows something. Either she knows that there was something between those two in their youth or she knows they are married. I don't know, but they way she said the word "partner" and the fact that Master Henderson is married made me think that Martha is his wife. I know, I know...it's a remote possibility, but you have to remember that marriage is mentioned a lot through different characters and couples during the story, so maybe those two were actually married. (But, it's quite possible it's theory one).
Other things to consider...
How long have Ostania and Westalis been at war?
My guess is that we're talking about two different wars between the same countries; very much like WWI and WWII, where there was a brief period of peace before a second conflict. So, probably the first war started while Henderson was in his 20s and the second war started when he was in his 40s (and Twilight was a kid).
It makes a lot of sense that now they're in a period of "Cold War", just like in real life.
The Garden
I am convinced that the Garden is involved in this. I've talked about this before (read it here). After this chapter, I still think the Garden is going to pop up. Want some evidence?
Do you recognize this guy?
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That's right 😏 That's Matthew McMahon. What is he doing there? Too much of a coincidence, don't you think?
And also the way this is phrased:
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Odd that there was a mention of the word Garden, isn't it? And the fact that the whole story between those two takes place in a garden...🤔
In addition to that, in a previous chapter, Twilight observes how Martha moves like a soldier. Franky mentioned earlier that Garden people are like soldiers. And the Garden has a history of recruiting young skilled/strong people, like Yor. Things keep adding up.
The Consequences of War
This is a prevalent theme throughout the whole SxF universe: how war (violence, intolerance, manipulation of information, propaganda, politics) has affected the life of all the characters.
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No matter their background, nationality or education, we've seen it again and again with most of the characters big or small, like Twilight, Franky, Sylvia, Millie, and now we're about to see it with characters from an older generation like Martha and Henderson.
My guess is that this won't be the last time and this pattern will continue while the story lasts. I think what the story is trying to show us is how war is seen by some (politicians and men in power like Desmond) as a natural, inevitable course of action, but at the same time how brutal the consequences are in the smallest stories. That's one of the things that is truly remarkable about SxF.
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rogueddie · 9 months
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Eddie slams his pile of books down on the counter, grinning at how hard Steve startles.
"Jesus, fuck," Steve holds a hand to his chest, glaring. "Man, come on, I'm too young to die of a heart attack."
"Are you sure about that?" Eddie reaches over, to tug at his hair- Steve bats his hand away before he can get near. "What are you now, seventy?"
"I'll have you know that the silver only adds to my charm."
"Sure, keep telling yourself that." He pats the pile of books. "I need to check all of these out."
"You know the limit."
"Please? Pretty please? I'll never insult you for going grey early ever again! Promise!"
"You've made that promise before," Steve grumbles, but starts to check the books out anyway. "What's all of this for anyway? New campaign or something?"
"Nah. Robin mentioned something about the cold war and nuclear shit. Got me curious."
Steve pointedly looks at the books, snorting. "Curious."
"What, you've never wanted to learn some new thing or something?"
"Not this much."
"What about all those sports you played?"
"That was more to do with my parents than me actually wanting to do it."
Eddies eyes narrow because... yeah. Outside of his old King Steve days, Eddie doesn't think Steve has ever wanted something. Not even for his birthday, or Christmas.
All he asks is for them to come to his and Robins flat. All he seems to want is confirmation that they're ok and alive.
"You always say you want kids though, right?"
"I mean, kind of. Though, I'm starting to think the brats we babysat might be more than enough for me."
"Chocolate?"
"Oh no..."
"What?"
"You're planning something, aren't you?"
"No! No, no, no... but there has to be something, right?"
"Something?"
"That you really want."
"There's nothing I need."
"That's not what I'm asking."
"That's all the answer you're getting." Steve shoves the pile of books towards him. "Get lost, I'm supposed to be working."
"Ugh, fine, you're no fun."
But he can't stop thinking about it. He ends up returning the pile of books, despite the fact that he barely read one page. When he tries to use it to question Steve, he dodges the question again.
He very quickly gives up, deciding to pester Robin until she tells him. That takes three weeks of constant, daily efforts. And, in the end, the answer is obvious.
Steve just wants to spend more time with people he cares about.
It's not easy to gather anyone in the party, given that there's no holiday or significant occasion- he manages it, though. All the kids, now young adults, organize transportation. Nancy and Jonathan, over the phone, help Eddie and Robin plan out where everyone will sleep with their small apartments.
The effort, and pain of organizing it all, is worth it for the look on Steves face when he comes home to find them all waiting for him.
When Dustin almost knocks him over with how harm he hugs him, for a second, Eddie is worried that he's going to start crying. But he holds it together, greets them all with so much enthusiasm...
"I forgot that he used to be like this," Robin comments, late into the night. They're sat a little away from the group, watching them argue over their games. "The kids mean a lot to him."
"He means a lot to them."
"I know. I think he forgets though, so... thank you."
Steve doesn't corner him until they've got the kids asleep- half of them going with Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle to Eddies appartment, the rest of them fighting over the little space in Steve and Robins.
"You could've got me chocolate," Steve says, nudging him.
"This is what you really wanted though, isn't it? That was the whole point, big boy."
"Right. Sorry, it... I wanted to say thank you. I know this must have taken a lot to organize and-"
"Steve. You don't need to thank me. Besides, I could never have done this on my own."
"Still... thank you." Steve is quiet for a moment, looking out to the busy city street. "What do you want?"
"This."
"No, what do you really want?"
"Yeah, this. Everyones together, having so much fun. We're gonna do a one-shot when you go to work tomorrow. And, uh... you're happy. I don't need anything more than that."
"Right," Steve clears his throat. He shuffles a little closer, so their sides are almost flush together, tentatively reaching out to hold Eddies hand. "You don't need anything else. What about what you want?"
"You know what I want."
"I want you to say it."
Steve leans over, bumping their shoulders together when he hesitates. He smiles, reassuring, and gives Eddies hand a squeeze.
"What do you want, Eddie?"
"You. I- I want you."
It's terrifying to admit, a horrifying leap... but the smile Steve gives him, so soft and happy, is more than worth it.
"As you wish."
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witchthewriter · 3 months
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Poly141! | Mission Pixie Dust
Okay so... I was making up scenarios in my head as I was falling asleep last night and I made myself cry ... so I obviously had to share...
Poly141; the four men are your husbands and all deployed at the same time, leaving you home with your three kids at the beginning of the school holidays.
This turned out longer than I thought it would but I just had to write it out. I love Poly141 AND them being dads :')
Da = Johnny
Papa = John P.
Dad= Simon
Daddy = Kyle
School holidays had just started, and your three pups were buzzing as soon as they came home. Bags were thrown on the floor, school shoes unlaced and scattered around the shoe stand. They knew the rules, but first day of school holidays meant they were allowed to get a little wild.
Your oldest, Paesha, had just turned eight and her father was obvious. Thick curls, dark skin and warm brown eyes made it plain to see. But all your husbands loved her the same. In fact, she had a special bond with her Da (Johnny).
Malachai, your second, could have been any of the three other men's. Light brown hair, fair complection, and utterly/overly protective of his sisters. He had been born a year after Pae.
And your youngest, Felicity (known as Flick), had started her first year in big school. She was known for having exceptional blue eyes.
None of your husbands wanted a DNA test, they thought it useless because everyone treats the children with the same love, compassion and warmth.
Throwing your keys on the counter (Paesha picked them up and placed them on the hook). You rubbed the bridge of your nose and tried to quell the longing in your soul. You didn't know if it was worse when the kids were gone or with you. Being completely alone let the terrible thoughts attack but you didn't want your kids to miss out on having their fathers'.
Calming the oncoming tears, you turned around and asked, "who wants pizza for dinner?"
"YES!" Yelled Mal, a fist punched in the air. Paesha nodded her head enthusiastically while Flick did a little happy dance.
Paesha halted and squinted at you, "Not homemade right?"
After dinner arrived, the four of you sat on the large dark green couch. Your two ex-military dogs, Moth and Teddy, sat on either end of the lounge.
Turning onto the streaming service, you found the exact movie you were looking for. The 2003 version of Peter Pan.
With the lights off (except for the kitchen, the kids were still scared of too much darkness), you watched as one of your cats jumped into Pae's lap. Barnaby started purring instantly. His fluffy white tail settled around his body.
The seven of you settled in. Your four human babies snuggled up to their mama, smiles already on their faces.
When the movie had finished, your kids still wouldn't go to bed.
"Oh wait, I know why it isn't working - we don't have the pixie dust!" Flick pulled on your sleeve with a huge gap-toothed smile.
You had been watching as they jumped around the room. Lights flicked on, bodies flinging from one couch to another.
"I know! But ... we don't have any in the house..." You grumbled.
Paesha was staring dreamily at Peter Pan, a cheek resting against her face. "Where do we get some?" Her head turned slightly to look at you, her eyes nearly heart-shaped.
"Ugh-" god trying to keep childlike wonder alive was bloody difficult. Like a sign from the Universe, your phone started to ring.
All three kids ran over to it, knowing exactly who was calling at this time of night. Swiping the screen, four familiar faces popped up.
"Da! Papa! Dad! Daddy!" Smiling through the screen, the men had been just as eager to see their kids as their kids were to see them.
"Hello little munchkins, ya been good for mum?" Simon greeted first. His mask was off and no black could be found around his eyes. He never showed that side to the children.
"We're going to fly!" Flick chirped, her arms outstretched and running around.
"You're - what?" Price said with a slightly panicked face.
"But we need pixie dust," Malachai explained. Shaking his head like this was obvious information.
"I introduced them to the ... live action Peter Pan," you explained and a smile of regret grew on your tired face.
"Oh honey," Kyle replied, understanding the situation. He was the first of the men to.
"But we don't have any and we have to go buy more!" Pae said while leaning against you.
"Eh, pixie dust ...?" you heard Johnny mumble in the background.
"Oh! I have an idea!" You said with a faked expression, "why don't the Dada's get us the pixie dust!"
The chorus of cheers was heard throughout the house. Alerting the the tired Moth and Teddy.
Kyle shook his head. And Price's nose flared. Mum: 1 - Dads: 0.
"We'll bring back the goddamns finest," Simon said. You couldn't help but let out a small laugh.
"See! You heard Dad! Now get your butts' upstairs and in bed."
"Yes ma'am!" They said in unison (a nickname they'd heard their father's use one too many times.)
Once the kids were upstairs, your face dropped.
"I miss you guys," you whispered into the phone. The tears welling and spilling down your cheeks.
"We miss you too," John said, his words strangled with his feelings.
It was always hard to hang up.
It hurt.
But tonight's farewell felt like the hardest. You could just imagine how the scenario would've played out if their father's were there with them. With you.
'Can't always get what we want,' you thought bitterly.
"Not long now," Kyle said. You stared at his eyes and then his lips. God how much you wanted to kiss him.
"You better make sure you bring back some fucking pixie dust or there'll be a riot."
"Aye, Laswell definitely knows someone-" Johnny replied, giving you a wink. "Miss you gorgeous." He always tried to uplift the mood. And it nearly always worked.
You fought out of your misery, knowing the four soldiers couldn't bear to see you upset. And as they said their goodbyes, you said so in return.
"We love you, our precious wife. We'll all be together soon."
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kudossi · 10 months
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Tigerclaw and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Senior Warrior Position AU
In a world where deputies can only be named after their first apprentice has been granted their warrior name, Tigerclaw struggles to keep an apprentice alive long enough to earn their name.
or, a comedy-tragedy AU in which having an apprentice isn't enough — you have to see them to their warrior name, and Tigerclaw cannot fucking get any of his goddamn apprentices to live, damn it.
It starts out mostly normally, except for the fact that Tigerclaw hasn't gotten any apprentices to their warrior name, and he needs that so he can accomplish his (very noble, of course) kitty genocide goals. And also be the supreme leader of the world or something. Darkpaw died stupidly, he hasn't had a chance since, and now he's got some tiny thing that's afraid of his own shadow.
Well. It'll have to do.
So naturally this man is so protective over Ravenpaw that Ravenpaw barely even leaves his sight. Firepaw and Graypaw think that this is adorable. Look how much Tigerclaw cares about his apprentice!!
Ravenpaw, of course, is fucking terrified and also slowly losing his mind, just in a different way.
"Redtail assigned us to go on a patrol to Snakerocks." "OH NO HE DID NOT. WE'RE STAYING IN THE SANDY HOLLOW WHERE IT'S SAFE."
"Nothing matters more to me than making you a warrior, Ravenpaw. Nothing." And the terrible thing is that Ravenpaw is sure he's being sincere.
Ravenpaw disappears and Tigerclaw nearly fucking has a conniption because the timing was all RIGHT and he was going to finally get the position AND HE NEVER GOT HIS DAMN NAME FUCK.
"Do you think I could convince the elders that Fireheart was my apprentice?" "Fireheart was Bluestar's apprentice, as approved by StarClan. You're going to have to wait for the next litter to be apprenticed."
So he begs and begs and gets Cinderpaw and then she accidentally falls into the trap he'd set for a better deputy candidate at the Thunderpath. Fuck.
Well. Time to resort to drastic measures.
"I was thinking that Darkstripe would have been a good name. Because he had dark stripes." "Again, Tigerclaw, it's admirable that you loved your apprentice so much, but I cannot grant him a name." "Are you sure?" "Honestly, Tigerclaw, I'm not sure he ever would have gotten a name. Missing quite a few feathers from his nest, that one..." Fuck. The worst part was that she wasn't even wrong.
— Swiftpaw and Brightpaw get mauled by the dogs he set up to happen like right after he got the title and they sprang it before and he's like FUCK NOW WHAT DO I DO WITH THESE DAMN DOGS? His world domination plans literally never come to fruition because he cannot keep his apprentices alive/in the clan/his own.
— "Brightheart counts. She HAS to count." "Actually, Cloudtail took over her training…" [demented noises]
Turns out that Ravenpaw is alive and no one — no one — in the Harper Collins Extended Universe is happier than Tigerclaw.
"You're alive! …You deserve your warrior name!" "Actually, I've come to peace with my name and my way of life. I have no need for a—" "GET YOUR FUCKING NAME RIGHT NOW RAVENPAW OR SO HELP ME STARCLAN—" "I know you really wanted Ravenpaw to become a warrior," Barley says gently, "but he's made his decision. It's very kind of you to acknowledge that he deserves it, though. You must have been so close as mentor and apprentice." Tigerclaw's eye twitches. "Yes. Close. Very... close." —
He finally, finally retires as an elder after his plans go absolutely nowhere for years on end. And maybe StarClan is still like "Brambleclaw would be chill actually, we can forget that pesky little law" and Tigerclaw is sitting there like "excuse me what the actual fuck?" —
But at this point Tigerclaw is about as dangerous as Ashfur without a freak forest fire. Which is to say about as dangerous as using a leaf as a weapon. Which is, incidentally, how Darkpaw managed to get himself killed in the first place.
"Is this the Dark Forest? This has to be the Dark Forest. It doesn't look like Thistleclaw described it, but it must be. This Clan is all an elaborate punishment meted down by StarClan for my sins." "Tigerclaw, sir, I'm just here to help you with your ticks. See? I have the mousebile right here." "…Yes, thank you, Alderpaw." — Graystripe joins him in the elder's den and he's like, "You know, Ravenpaw thought you were up to some… scheme, back in the day. Crazy, right? You've been a model Clanmate as long as I've been alive." [muffled screaming] "Huh, what do you think that is? It sounds almost like someone killed a rabbit, but they know not to come this close to camp…"
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mydearlybeloathed · 2 months
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𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄, 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐄?
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the grace of the sword and the stage come together as the strawhats' swordsman and dancer fall in love.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: roronoa zoro x fem!dancer!reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3k
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: fluff, reader is a ballerina, mention of alcohol, abusive employer near the beginning, not beta read
𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: la seine
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the first time he saw you, he was in denial of the fact that he was, once again, lost.
it wasn't his fault! nami ditched him in favor of viewing the rows and rows of stalls featuring all sorts of glittering jewels, and before he knew it, zoro was at a loss on where he was.
choosing to wander till he found something familiar to guide him back to the ship, he was drawn to the sweet sound of laughter, clinking glass, and soft music.
without looking up to read the sign hanging over the boisterously decorated building taking up most of the left side of the street. it was probably just a bar anyway.
so he slipped inside, meaning to find a place at a counter to order a drink, when he found himself running into a podium and faced with a woman in a suit, her expression sultry as she said, "here for the last show?"
Zoro blinked down at her, lips parting. He wasn't about to let her make him look stupid, so he settled her with a stern glower and nodded.
"You're just in luck," she purred. "We've got one last seat, and you're just in time to see our principal lady."
"Right," he nodded once more and, after casting a look at the enticing exit, turned back to the hostess. "You've got booze?"
Her smile glimmered. "Just ask and ye shall receive. We have an assortment of liquors here at Le Palais de Cerise!"
Zoro followed her down a dim hallway into an even dimmer grand room. It looked something like an opera hall, with tiered rows of half-moon booths each facing a large stage.
Blue lighting shined from lanterns hung on the ceiling, casting the place in an eerie yet mystifying glow. All around the booths and tables were occupied by guests dressed much finer than Zoro, sipping on glasses of fine wine and nibbling on hors d'oeuvres.
The hostess brandished an arm as she showed him to a smaller booth at the very edge of the third tier away from the stage, closer to the center aisle running between two halves of the room. It was a pretty good view, nearly right in the middle of the stage.
"Thanks," he muttered distractedly, slipping into the booth and slouching instantly. "Get me a bottle of sake, yeah?"
The woman grinned widely before turning her back, her smile falling into a sneer. Now alone, Zoro got comfortable on the cushion of the seat, deciding this place wasn't too bad of a napping spot, when the lights brightening the stage faded to black.
Violins and flutes started to sing from a pit around the edge of the stage, coming alive as all conversation died out. Zoro stiffened, shifting to sit up right as his hands fell to his swords at his side.
"I hear it's her last show," sighed a young man to his friend at the neighboring booth. "We're insanely lucky."
Zoro's eyes adjusted to the dark just as a spotlight shone down on the parting ruby curtain, and out came a dozen girls dressed as the petals of a flower, twirling on the very tips of their toes. Instantly, Zoro was fascinated.
How they hopped around and danced like that without breaking something, he hadn't a clue. Zoro was on the edge of his seat before he really realized it, and barely made a sound of acknowledgement when a bottle of sake was placed beside him.
He came back to reality long enough to take a long drink, yet when his gaze returned to the stage, the music tingled to a suspenseful, drawn out theme. The flower petals stood in two diagonals forming a V and arced their arms around to present whatever was approaching.
From the left of the stage rushed a woman donned in a dress of dark red, the skirt branching out at her waist and barely dipping with each of her movements. Her bodice was lined with black and gold lace leading up to a sweetheart neckline. Not a hair on her head was out of place. Her every movement had a purpose.
The ballerina was perfection on earth. Zoro nearly wanted to remove his gaze from her, lest he taint this apparent angel.
She nearly floated with how she glided her feet, coming to a graceful halt at center stage, at the peak of the petals' V, and presented her arms as if to say here I am!
All around the audience applauded her for her presence alone, and Zoro found himself lazily meeting his palms together as well.
The music swelled as she extended her arms to cross and pointed out a toe, hopping forward as her arms gradually lifted over her head, before she leapt into an arabesque and pattered across the stage.
Behind her, the V of petals crossed the stage to the opposite side they were on, halting in unison on a tall and extended pique.
The main ballerina continued to glide this way and that, commanding the entire room, no fault in her every twirl, leap, and scurry.
Throughout the entire performance, Zoro watched dutifully, his attention never once departing from you.
And upon the stage, with the blinding lights casting the audience in a gray shadow, you swore you felt something tangibly heavy in the way they looked at you now, though you couldn't place a finger on why.
You only knew that when the music climaxed and faltered, and the curtain lowered on you and your friends, that as the lights grew dim, you caught sight of someone leaving the theater, a set of swords glinting at their side.
It was no surprise when flowers upon flowers arrived at your little room near the back of the theater.
You were known across the city and ones around it for your grace. People came from every which way to watch you dance the same dances, on the same stage, with the same people night after night after night.
You were bored, to say the least.
For ages, you ached for the thrill dance had once brought you. To not know every move by heart, to have something to learn rather than perform out of mere memory.
You missed what it was like to make mistakes, because they made success all the more sweet.
It was why that night was your last performance at Le Palais de Cerise. The next day, you would set sail with a family of merchants you'd met the week prior, and visit lands you'd only ever dreamed of.
Hopefully, some day, you'd find the thrill once again.
But there was Madame Cerise to think of, the owner of the theater hall, and she was not so ready to let her prized ballerina slip away.
"It would be a shame," she said to her brutish son, "if our dear angel was robbed of all her money. How would she pay for escape then?"
Zoro wasn't nearly as drunk as he'd like to be, but he didn't really need the alcohol anymore. Not when all he could think of was how the hell those dancers didn't break their toes.
Looking left and right, ensuring no one was out on the streets with him, he attempted to balance himself on the very tip of his boots, immediately teetering forward and nearly twisting his ankle.
He spit out a curse, pushing back his shoulders only to slump forward again and trudge down the street. The streetlamps flickered here and there, the night breeze chilling his bare arms.
"Stop! Stop, please!"
Zoro whipped around, eyes peeled, and zeroed in on the alleyway ahead to his right. The pleading voice echoed as three burly shadows tripped and stumbled out onto the street, sprinting away.
He was halfway into a pursuit when he caught the tell-tale sound of crying. Faltering to a stop just outside the mouth of the alley, he made out the silhouette of someone in a crumbled heap on the ground.
You glanced up from cradling your skinned and burning palms to your chest, hiccuping. Finding yet another shadow lurking there, you bit back, "I've got nothing left! Run back to Cerise, you--you mutt!"
Well, that didn't exactly make him want to help you, but then, in the dim lamplight, he saw through your tear stained face and found the ballerina who'd enchanted him an hour before.
He didn't know what to do, feeling odd with an unsheathed sword in hand as you glared at him, awaiting his next move. Zoro cleared his throat. "You... danced nice."
You eyes flickered all over him before you broke into yet another round of sobs, somehow managing through it, "Yeah, and I'll be dancing nicely till I'm old and wrinkly and dead. Ugh!"
Clawing at your arms, mumbling more to yourself, "I'm such a fool... Why did I think she'd let me go..."
You were too caught up in picturing the rest of your mundane life to realize Zoro was approaching you, only jerking away from him when he knelt in front of you.
His sword was back in its scabbard, and despite the scar over his eye, the other one was nearly soft. But there was nothing soft in the way he asked you, "Who won't let you go?"
A long story short, le palais de cerise went up in flames a few days after, and you found yourself sailing away not only with the promise of adventure, but with the promise of friendship.
and the hint of something more, judging from how zoro acted around you.
It was comical, really. Once, the swordsman had been a wall of stoicism, never to be toppled. And now this woman with all the grace and poise of a swan comes in, and he’s toppled like a feather in the wind.
Not that the others would complain; he wasn’t so grouchy when you were near, the tautness in his brows softening at the very sound of your voice.
Nami and Robin often teased you about Zoro's little crush, and you never paid them any mind—you’d think twice before admitting to having a soft spot for your crewmate.
Still, it was obvious something was there.
He always tended to be near you whenever he wasn’t training or asleep. Whether you were sitting around reading, or listening to music on a gramophone Nami may or may not have stolen for you, Zoro was likely to be there, laying at your side, content with the company.
You never failed to save him a seat at breakfast, waiting even when the others got up to start working, knowing Zoro would walk in later than the rest all grumpy and tired.
Zoro stood at your side like some kind of guard dog, especially when outside the safety of the ship.
It wasn’t that he thought you couldn’t look after yourself! It’s just, well, you can’t exactly fight.
“So teach me,” you snapped back, not appreciating being treated like glass.
Zoro sputtered, unsure if you’re serious, and promptly sets down his fork in favor of matching your stare from across the table.
Before he could say anything, Robin stood to put up her plate and said, “That’s a good idea. Everyone should be able to defend themself.”
You could have kissed her, grinning as she winked and wandered off. 
“You don’t need to,” Zoro blurted. 
Nami smirked as she took a sip of her water. “Why’s that?”
His reply was instant. “I’ll protect you.”
Your cheeks warmed. “That’s sweet, but you won’t always be there.”
He glared at the prospect, as if to say watch me. 
“If Marimo refuses, I would love to teach you, darling—”
“Shut up!” Zoro faced you, narrowing his eyes at the little smile you gave him. “We start tomorrow.”
Snickering, you lurched forth and pressed a swift kiss to his cheek, jumping to your feet before he could even register what had happened. “Thanks, Zo!”
Whilst you made a hasty exit and Sanji started to yell at Zoro, Nami couldn’t help her excited gape as she locked eyes with Robin. The dark haired woman grinned cheekily, watching Zoro stare blankly into space. 
“She’s got him wrapped around her finger.”
Zoro did not go easy on you, and you didn’t exactly mind too much. 
You wanted to get better. That was the only reason you were out here, in the blazing sun, watching Zoro’s chest as it heaved underneath his thin shirt.
Okay, maybe not the only reason. But the main one was definitely learning to protect yourself! 
You learned quickly, sometimes even beating Zoro out on the deck in the morning, purely excited at the chance to train with him.
He had wandered into the girls room to get you, only to be confused when all he found was Nami yelling at him to get out. 
And when he saw you practicing your form with the sword he’d bought with you on that last island. 
Zoro knew you were graceful. He’d seen it the first time he ever saw you. Grace was a word so wrapped up in his view of you. 
But fuck—you were anyting but graceful with a sword. 
Each of your movements were stiff and rigid and sharp. How hadn’t he noticed it before?
So he came up and, without really thinking, reached around to grab your wrist, taking your elbow in his other hand, caging you between his arms. 
You’re not quite sure how you didn’t go into cardiac arrest.
Only after your eyes met did Zoro realize the predicament he’d gotten himself into—and promptly sprang away from you, complimenting how fast you caught on and beelining back into the ship.
You weren’t sure you could take much more of that. Not before you acted on one of your many urges to kiss him senseless.
Luckily, you didn’t have to wait much longer.
So long of the crew’s teasing, slight grazes of the hand, and longing stares all led up to one night aboard the ship, lost in the music and sea breeze.
Zoro had been trying to take another sip of his drink for a while now, but each time he brought his glass to his lips, his eyes were dragged back to you, and Zoro’s breath hitched as he lowered his hand once more.
You were effervescent, your smile never wavering as you twirled and stomped around to the beat of the melody strumming from Brook’s guitar. You had caught Usopp in a waltz now, dragging him with you as he stumbled to keep up. A laugh bubbled up and out of you, and Zoro’s chest seized. 
Nami rolled her eyes, growing tired of watching Zoro be so hopelessly infatuated. “Would you give it up? Do us all a favor and just tell her already.”
The swordsman barely cast her a glance, finally managing to get some sake down his throat to sooth the anxiety welling in his chest. “No clue what you’re on about.”
“You’re impossible,” she scoffed, standing while setting a hand on his shoulder. “And just plain sad.” Nami had skipped off to take your hand before Zoro could snap back at her, and he watched from his seat as Nami spun you around, dragging another chuckle out of you.
Sighing, Zoro lowered his gaze and settled on remaining seated the whole night, allowing you to have your fun without dampening it with his useless conversations. 
A figure plopped into Nami’s abandoned seat, and he was prepared for another tease, when your voice loftily inquired, “Zoro, you’ve been sad all night.”
Instantly, his head lifted to look at you and your slight smile. Your chest heaved up and down, still exhausted from dancing circles around the deck. He set his glass down, shifting his knees to face yours. “I’m fine. You tired?”
Your huffed sigh was answer enough, pulling a scant grin out of him. Your face lit up at the sight, and your eyes took a slightly warmer tone. “I know your answer already, but do you wanna dance?”
He nearly said what you expected—no—before it sank in that you had expected it. For him to deny you of something you wanted. Zoro’s eyes flickered all over your pretty face, his heart beating fast, and he nodded, much to your surprise.
“Really?” You tried to hold back your smile. “I mean, you don’t have to—”
“I do.”
You nearly squealed right then and there, settling for beaming at him whilst you scooped up his hand and pulled him to his feet. Your smile was coy and his was stifled, but everyone could see it. You took both his hands in yours and leaned back, spinning the both of you around.
From somewhere nearby, Sanji was scoffing and Usopp was whistling, but Zoro hardly even heard the music anymore. All he was conscious of was you and your snickers, of how your touch ignited his skin, of his stumbling feet, of how you drew him closer with a slight tug on his hand and wrung your arms around his neck.
Brook, as if on cue, began to strum a softer song, something akin to a slow dance. It drew a grin on your face, your eyes fluttering closed. Zoro’s heart jumped and his right foot crushed yours. He apologized swiftly as you winced, somehow still giggling at him. Angel, he thought.
Zoro couldn’t breathe. Not when you looked at him like that. His hands froze at his sides before they inched closer to you, hovering over your sides. Your eyes were shut, and he admired you unabashedly, leaning forward till his nose brushed your own, jerking you from your reverie to find him a breath away. 
His eyes widened after locking with yours, sputtering another apology as he attempted to remove himself from your vicinity, cursing himself. Your hands intertwined around his neck, holding him in place as all sense of caution fled your body. One last look into your eyes had Zoro lurching forward, catching your lips and relishing in the feeling of your thumb grazing his cheek. 
How an angel like you could hold a demon like him so lovingly, he wasn't sure. Zoro vowed to spend his life trying to find out, remaining at your side dutifully till the end of his days. You certainly had no objections, doing your best every day to convince him he indeed deserved your love.
The others never let you hear the end of it. Every “about time” made you that much closer to smacking someone upside the head. 
After your feelings were revealed, not much changed. The dynamic was still there, with the added physical intimacy when far from the prying eyes of the others, of course.
Zoro liked to lay his head on your legs while you read, and he’d never say it out loud, but he loved it when you carded your hands lazily through his hair. He didn't exactly need to tell you though; his contented sighs and following snores were enough.
He’s still not much of a dancer, and you respect when he’s just too tired to entertain your twirling and whirling. But sometimes, on days where he’s been up so long he starts to feel energized, he’ll take your hand and drag you onto the floor of whatever bar he’d brought you to. 
He's terrible, finding no rhythm no matter how hard he tries, and he settles for simply swaying along with you.
(You're in no place to tease him for it; you're just as out of place with a sword in hand).
Funny how you both held such grace in your separate fields of passion, yet lost it all the moment you try the other's craft.
Zoro still short-circuited every time your lips brushed his cheek, even if it became a habit of yours whenever leaving his side. 
Princess. Treatment (Or as much as he can give).
He’ll bully you if you start complaining that your feet hurt, but he’ll let you cling to his back like a koala all the way back to ship while doing it. 
Whilst walking around whatever city the crew was stopped at, he’ll have one arm around you at all times, really only letting you go when you weasel out of his arms to go listen to the little band playing music on the street corner. 
(He stands guard at the front of the crowd, eyes peeled whilst you distract the watchers long enough for Nami to pickpocket each and every one of them. And when he’s inevitably so caught up in watching you, someone notices Nami slinking off with their wallet. The three of you race through the street and around a corner, laughing till your sides ache).
Zoro will help you destroy all your dead pointe shoes from your days on Cerise’s stage, having no need for them on the sea, slamming the shoes by the ribbons against the deck of the ship till Usopp yells at you for leaving scratches on the deck. 
He has a little too much fun with it, and you’re no different, feeling free of all bitterness and anger with each shoe that you snap in two. The others are only slightly concerned about the violence of it all, leaving the pair of you alone when you and Zoro melt into laughter like children.
You try to teach him to waltz one day, because he was hopeless on the dance floor with two left feet. When he tried to escape it, you simply replied, “I want to dance with you… and keep my toes too.” “Hey!”
An hour must have passed, and Zoro still couldn’t process exactly what he was supposed to do, when he was supposed to. He narrowly missed your toe again by stepping forward when he was meant to step back. 
Zoro grunted, dropping his arms from your waist and putting a wide berth between you. “Forget it.”
Grinning softly, you took his chin between your thumb and finger, catching his frustrated gaze that melted once it met with yours. “It’s fine. You’ll get it eventually.”
He scoffed as if to say yeah right, and you took that personally. Raising a brow, you lowered your gaze to your feet, then to Zoro’s, before a grin tugged at your lips. “I know! Here.”
You hooked your arms around his neck, getting up close and personal as you gently stepped onto his shoes. Zoro tried to remain stoic, but it all fell through when you brushed your nose against his and dragged a little chuckle out of him. 
“What’re you doing?” he asked fondly.
“Dancing,” you laughed. “This way, you can’t step on my feet.”
“But now you’re stepping on mine.”
“Hush. Just—spin around. I dunno.”
His hands settled on your hips, his eyes rolling to the side despite the light blush on his cheeks giving him away. Zoro grinned slyly and wrapped his arms around you, tottering from one foot to the next in a swift whirl. You squealed his name into his neck as he lifted you up, spinning the both of you around and around till you could barely breathe, you were laughing so hard.
Your feet touched the floor as Zoro’s sight got too dizzy, his deep laughter rumbling in his chest as he leaned into you for balance. You gripped his shoulders so he wouldn’t take you down with him, running your hand up the back of his neck to card through his hair. 
He pulled back, smiling dazedly, and you shook your head at him. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Eh,” he said, ducking to hover his lips over yours. “I think I’m getting good at this dancin’ thing.”
Your scoff was muffled against his kiss, deep and slow. He grinned against your mouth, taking the first step forward to lead you back to his bed. The door to the boy‘s cabin swung open, instantly followed by a sharp scoff.
You broke away from Zoro to find Sanji standing in the doorway, his eyes narrowed at Zoro’s back. “Whore,” he spat, his eyes softening on you. “Not you, my dear.”
“Thanks for the clarification,” you said with a roll of your eyes, watching as Zoro’s good mood flew out the window as he glared daggers into the cook. “Welp, dance class is over.” 
They were arguing before you ever left the room, their tones escalating surprisingly fast. “Bye, boys!”
There was a lull in the shouting before the sound of Zoro lumbering down the hall (did he just run into the doorframe?) echoed after you. “Hey, angel, wait!”
You turned, giggling as your graceless boyfriend stumbled to a stop before you, one arm resting on the wall beside you to steady himself. He too started to smile after catching the soft one on your lips, his other arms reaching to pull you close by your hip.
"I'll practice," he promised softly, his nose gently brushing your own.
"Oh?"
"Mhmm. I'll sweep you off your feet once and for all then."
He kissed you then, softly and full of intention, so you didn't bother to say Oh, but you already have.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @100520s
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luveline · 7 months
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Hi don’t know if you’re taking requests (if not please ignore!) just wondering how Halloween would look like in the KBD universe or even a masquerade ball for prince Steve and reader?
thank you for requesting angel ♡ kbd mom!reader, 2k
"I think we should paint her orange," Avery says. 
Steve pushes the wand of his bubbles back into the container, coating it in solution. "What for, honey?" 
"For Halloween! We'll paint her orange and she can be a pumpkin." 
"Oh." 
Steve purses his lips, blowing bubbles over the green grass of the garden. It's alive despite it being late October, mildly crisp underfoot. He can hear leaves crunching under Bethie's boots where she runs around toward the back gate. 
Wren sees the bubbles and giggles wildly. Steve grins. "You like those, sweetheart?" 
"What if we make her green like a witch?" 
"Who, Ave?" 
"Wren." 
"Oh. Well, Wren can't use face paint yet, babe, she's too little," Steve explains, dipping the wand in solution again. "But they're very good ideas. Do you know what you want to be?" 
Avery throws her hands out. She's getting older than he ever imagined her, but she's still so small at the end of the day with delicate little hands and facial expressions cute enough to make a grown man cry. Steve would know, he's cried a ton of times just looking at her. 
"I already told you." 
Steve pretends to remember to spare her feelings as he blows more bubbles. He knows you'll know, and so it's a white lie. Better for everyone. "I remember! You're gonna be awesome." 
She smiles for the first time in ten whole minutes and sits down next to Steve. He offers her the bubbles and the wand, freeing his hands to give her a loving squeeze from either side. "Very good ideas," he repeats, patting her arm.
Bethie comes running with two cupped hands. Steve can picture her find before she shows him, and still he's horrified to see a slug in her palm. It's not big but neither is she, lavishing across the breadth of her hand. 
Ew, Steve thinks. "Wow, Beth! What did you find?" 
"There's snails, too!" she says excitedly, her eyes bright as her attention flickers between the slug and her dad. "They're sleeping, I think. They're stuck to the slide." 
"Beth, listen to me really quickly?" 
"Yeah, dad," she says, nodding. 
"I like that you're being gentle with the slugs, you're being nice, but as soon as you put him down, don't touch your face, okay? In fact, when you put him down, we're gonna go inside and wash our hands." 
Beth looks down at her slug in alarm. "What?" 
"He's not dangerous!" Steve reassures her. "But he might have germs. Germs don't hurt our skin, but they can't go in your mouth, okay? Good girl." 
"He can't hurt my skin?" 
"No, bub. Some bugs can, but not the plain black slugs. How about next time you want to pick one up, you come and get me and we'll pick it up together?" 
Steve doesn't want to kill her fearlessness in this sole area, not when she's usually timid around everything else, but he also doesn't want to kill her full stop. All these random bugs, Steve doesn't know what's what. 
"Okay. I picked this one up because he's got a yellow stripe," she says. Beth speaks in full words and makes sense the majority of the time, but her delivery is clumsy, heavy in places. Steve can still remember her first word. He's a firm believer in taking your time (please. please, let her take her time). 
"You're super brave," he praises.
"Mom says bugs are more 'fraid of us than we are of them." 
"She's right. Think if something this much bigger than you picked you up one day, you'd want them to put you down gently, right?" 
Determination fills her eyes. "Yes." 
She starts to run off but then slows, holding her hand aloft in front of her. 
Closer by, Avery blows bubbles near Wren's soft chair, the youngest baby giggling like a tinkling bell. You and Steve have emphasised to Avery that Wren isn't her responsibility. Look after her as you would your other sisters, but don't feel like being the biggest sister makes you in charge. Avery sort of listened, but now she's planning Halloween costumes in her head, Steve's worried she's putting too much on her little shoulders, as she tends to do. 
"Come here, my big girl," he demands, opening his arms. 
Avery grins and jumps into his lap. Steve groans playfully, happy to be trampled, and just glad she had the foresight to screw the cap on her bubbles before she pounced. 
"Hello. So, do I need to go to the store for this costume?" he asks. 
"Probably."
"Okay. Are you coming with me to choose?" 
"Mom said we're all going after lunch." 
Steve waves her arms back and forth. "I guess we better get ready, then." 
Easier said than done. Steve marches the girls back inside to find you've already dressed Dove and sat her in her chair with her lunch in front of her. Feeding young kids is tough because you're always trying to rotate things to keep their tastes big, but you've given in today to an easy solution; everybody's having pizza subs and halved grapes. So long as they're fed, who minds? 
"Give me the babies!" you say, jumping up from your seat to grab Wren, chair and all, "Hi. Something tells me it's time for a bottle." 
"I'll get them dressed–" 
"Go get yourself dressed. They can eat first." You kiss his cheek. "I put some stuff out for you already." 
"I can do it," he insists. 
"Take a break," you insist back, your tone gentle as velveteen.
His turn to kiss your cheek. "Do you know what Avery wants to be for her costume?" he asks in your ear. 
"She wants to be Belle, she told us weeks ago." He remembers as soon as you say it. "But I don't think finding a costume for her is going to be very easy this close to Halloween." 
Steve doesn't blame either of you for your busy October, but he hates himself watching Avery grow more and more disappointed with every store you drive to. There are no yellow princess dresses to be found, only store brand pinks. Bethie is ecstatic to choose one of those ones and Dove insists on a white fairy costume with sugar paper wings, but Avery's frown grows heartbreaking when it's clear there aren't any Belle dresses to buy. 
"I'm sorry," you're saying, Wren strapped to your chest, Beth and Dove knee to knee in the shopping cart in front of you. "It's my fault, baby, I left it last minute." 
"No, it's my fault," Steve says. 
Avery glares for a while, standing in front of all the dresses. Steve bends down to speak with her. "I'm sorry, Ave. Don't be mad at mom, okay? It's not her fault even when she says it is, she was busy working and I forgot about costumes because I had all that stuff with Wren and the doctors and my glasses and–" He winces. "I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. So be mad at me if you want, I was supposed to remember, but I'll make it up to you, promise."
"I told you ages ago," she says morosely. 
"I know. You did. I didn't think about them running out of costumes, Avery. Sometimes when you're a grown up you have so much stuff to think of you don't have room for all of it, but that's not fair, huh? Now you don't get the costume you wanted." 
She sighs, but the thing about Avery is that if you understand her point, she runs out of anger, just like her mom. She wants to make up, burying her face in Steve's thigh for a hug. 
"What am I going to be now?" she asks. 
"How about Belle's blue dress, babe?" you suggest. 
"They don't have any Belle costumes!" 
"I know, but we can make one. That's what me and dad did growing up, right?" you ask. 
"All my costumes were homemade," he seconds, "that was the fun part." 
So Avery marches you guys to the normal dresses and together you look for something nice and long enough for her tall stature. It's in the middle of this searching when she gasps, jumping up to grab Steve by the elbows. 
Delighted at being forgiven, he bends down at her whim. "What?" he asks excitedly. 
"Wren can be a bumblebee, like me!" 
"You remember that?" he asks. 
"No, but you have the photo in the car. Do you still have the costume?" 
It's Steve. Of course he kept the costume, he keeps everything, an attic stuffed to bursting with the offcuts of your lives. You giggle from the landing underneath him, the baby in one arm and a spooky drink made special by Dove in the other hand. "I wish you could drink more than milk." 
"Don't poison her!" Steve says, covered in cobwebs and knees white with dust as he climbs down the rickety ladder back onto solid ground. You wolf whistle as he reaches up to close everything safely, and cheer when you see the bee costume in his hand.
"You're the best. Think we should let Avery put it on her?" you ask. 
"Maybe. Think she can be gentle enough?"
Your little girl, so preoccupied with her sister's costume that she forgot about her own? Yes, Avery can be gentle enough. She sews Wren's small arms into the costume's sleeves like she's handling a girl made of glass, and she doesn't attempt to lift her, quick to say, "Dad, can you pick her up for me?" 
Steve lifts her and Wren does her scrunch, legs pulled up high and face a little startled. She's just old enough to giggle, prompting Bethie to join in as she races across the living room rug, the skirts of her dress fluttering against the floor. 
"She looks like a bee!" Dove says, following after, her fairy wings jittering with her movements. 
"She is!" Avery says, buttoning Wren's last button. 
Finally, after an exhausting afternoon (both of energy and your wallets), the four girls are dressed in their Halloween costumes. Avery as Belle in her original blue dress and white apron, not the costume she wanted but clearly her favourite character nonetheless. Bethie wears her pink princess dress and one of Avery's big plastic tiaras, her hair done as you would style your own for date night. Dove twirls in her white fairy dress, silver corset ribbons shiny in the light. Wren gurgles in his arms, her soft wings folded between her and Steve's chest. And you, uncostumed, stand beautiful and tired in the doorway, sparkly eyeshadow in a stripe up your cheek. 
The girls smile at him and their eyes glimmer. 
"Wow," he says, leaning back against the couch. "You guys look amazing." 
"It's about an hour until we're gonna leave," you say, "so please do mommy a favour and watch some TV, okay?" 
You set them up in a line with a bowl of chips each —you can vacuum them clean. Steve cleans as quickly as he can while you wipe your face and put aside some stuff for tonight in case the girls come home hungry, and eventually, eventually, you and Steve make your way to the kitchen table for a quiet minute together. 
"Wren's–" 
"In her bassinet," Steve says. "You're–" 
"Fine." You reach for his hand. "And you're–" 
"Perfect." He rubs the back of your fingers with his thumb. "I've missed you today. I know we were together, but…" 
You slouch into the table, resting your cheek on a placemat and closing your eyes. "Me too, sweetheart." 
He shuffles closer and leans in. "Tired, huh?" he asks gently, pressing similarly soft kisses to your cheek. "Love you," he says. "Don't fall asleep." 
"I'm not. Just resting my eyes." 
He doesn't rub your back, worried it'll send you to sleep. Instead, he kisses all over your face, sloe at first and faster when he realises it'll take a while to cover every inch. You smile and let him do as he pleases, laughing under your breath as he kisses your eyelid, squirming when he pecks under your nose. "Freak," you mumble. 
"That's what I'm being for Halloween."
"What am I gonna be?" you ask.
"Same as every year, I thought. Most beautiful girl this side of the Mississippi river." 
You like the sound of it, pulling your joined hands to your face to nuzzle his knuckles. 
"Or you can be Frankentstein," he suggests. "I'll be the monster." 
"We can just be the two tiredest parents ever." 
"That's not super creative, babe, we kinda do that every day." 
"So I'm not beautiful every day," you say quickly, having set him up. "Knew it." 
"You tricked me." 
"Did not. Make it up to me?" 
"What do you want?" he asks. 
"Just a hug, Stevie." You raise your head to smile at him sleepily. "A really nice hug, please." 
He saves the line about every hug being nice when it's with you and cuddles you, stroking your back for countless minutes, murmuring nothings to you until baby Wren shriek-cries from the living room. Steve soothes her upset, and you start the impossible task of getting everyone in their shoes for a night of trick-or-treating.
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livwritesstuff · 3 months
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inspired by a reply @gregre369 left on yesterday’s post. this is why i love this site so much bc i had this idea floating aimlessly around my brain for such a long time and then someone says something that just connects all the dots for me so - much thanks <3
tw: brief reference to domestic violence
One of parenthood’s biggest surprises (in Eddie’s opinion, anyway) was how easy talking to his and Steve’s daughters about why his parents aren’t in his life was.
He’d figured it’d be hard to figure out exactly how to explain that his mother's death was due to domestic violence caused by his father, who had died in prison twenty years later – but…that about covers it, honestly. Sure, the exact rendition of the story the girls hear varies as they get older, but…it’s pretty straightforward, actually.
Explaining Steve’s situation turned out to be way more complicated for…well, for a lot of reasons, and the fact that his parents are still alive and breathing and choosing to not be around didn't help things at all.
It also didn't help that the girls totally saw Jim and Joyce as Steve’s parents, but it did lead to a conversation that Eddie doesn't think he'll ever forget:
It happened when he was passing through the kitchen to see that Steve was cooking with Moe.
"What're we up to in here?" he asked.
At four years old (she’s actually almost five), Moe has yet to outgrow a phase of picky eating that had started out right around her second birthday. Steve is trying out a new method where he involves Moe in the cooking process in the hopes that she then actually wants to eat the product of her hard work when it’s done. He's seeing varying levels of success.
“We're making burgers,” Moe said, “Poppy’s recipe.”
Eddie looked at Steve skeptically, “Poppy Jim or Poppy Joyce?”
Steve rolled his eyes, “I’m telling Joyce you said that.”
And then he added, “Jim.”
Satisfied, Eddie continued on his way.
“How come you call your dad Jim?” Moe asked.
And that had Eddie pausing in the hallway just out of their line of sight.
“Well, Poppy’s not my dad, sweet pea,” Steve replied.
“Did you not have a dad?”
“I did have a dad – I do. He lives in Indiana with my mom. We don't really talk to each other anymore though."
"Why?"
"When I was younger, I decided that they didn’t take care of me like I needed them too, and Jim and Joyce stepped in to be like my parents instead."
It's not completely accurate, Eddie knows (and he doesn't love the way Steve is shifting culpability away from his parents because that shit was fully on them, but whatever; it's his story and he can tell it however he want), but just like how they don't have a completely accurate picture of what happened to Eddie's mom either, they know what they need to know for now and they'll hear more down the line.
“But what did your mom and dad do?” Moe asked.
"Well, you know how Daddy and I read to you and play with you and put you to bed and make food for you – it was a little different because I was older and I needed different stuff than that, but…”
Eddie watched Steve look back at their oldest daughter, watched him see the look of confusion in her big brown eyes.
“They didn’t do that?” Moe asked, sounding perplexed.
Steve shook his head, and Moe continued to look at him as if he might suddenly tell her he was joking.
“That’s crazy,” Moe finally said, and Steve let out a laugh.
“It is kinda crazy, isn’t it?” he agreed, “That’s why I love being your dad so much, because it’s actually so easy to want to take care of you. Even though you sometimes like to make it hard on purpose, right?”
“Yeah,” she grinned proudly, “Like when I make you snuggle me more at bedtime and you fall asleep by accident and then the kitchen is messy in the morning."
"Uh-huh," Steve said, poking her in the side so she giggled, "Exactly like that."
"You're a good dad," Moe told him.
"You think?" Steve asked as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
"The best dad."
“The best?” he repeated, “Can’t let Daddy hear that.”
“He can hear it.”
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doctorbunny · 9 days
Text
A little speculation about Corpse Disposal and J-horror
But I'm a little bored so sharing a part-theory, part-headcanon on Muu and Rei
So we unfortunately don't see much of Rei in "Its not my fault" but I want to point out three key times we do
The first time we see Rei in the MV, is her wet sleeve (we know its not Muu because Muu wears a pink jumper under her blazer)
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Then, after a lot of bug stuff, we're finally back in the real world, where Muu has just killed her Post-After Pain. In INMF, we don't see the surroundings as well, just the dirt track and bushes. But in AP, we see this is right next to a rushing river (Muu's undercover card also features a bridge as a landmark)
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The next time we see Rei after her corpse, is a flashback to the start where she turns the hourglass over. Then it cuts just further back to before Rei stood up - as she pulls herself up off the floor She's alive and absolutely soaked after a session of intense bullying (which we saw Muu insert herself into in AP)
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However, I want to now switch a little to talk about cinematography and a concept called the Kuleshov effect The video I linked is pretty concise but the gist is that if you put two shots next to each other, even if they were filmed separately, the brain interprets it as a continuous scene (so if you film a character looking off screen, then a picture of an apple on a table, we're going to assume they're looking at the apple)
Therefore while we understand chronologically that the sequence of events is Rei (wet and alive) -> Rei's murder on dry land ↺ Flashback to Rei still wet and alive Which I think everyone understood as a commentary on how this power struggle was a constant cycle of the hourglass being turned over
I think visually, it also implies a sequence like Rei was bullied -> Muu kills her -> Sopping wet, Rei crawls back to the classroom
But wait! That sequence suggests a missing step How did Rei get wet again?
Well, we know Muu killed her next to a river And if you were a scrawny teenage murderer with a body on your hands, would you leave it there where someone could see it while you grab a shovel and stand in broad daylight digging a hole in tough ground??? Or try lighting a fire in public??? Of course not!
It'd be much easier for Muu to, in a panic, just roll her body into the convenient river and let all the evidence wash away!
(Of course, if Muu was panicking, she might not have been very careful. Given she ended up in MILGRAM, there must've been something tying Muu to Rei's death and in T2 Muu seems to have finally remembered losing her left shoe...)
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Fun fact: this is the same shoe Cinderella loses in the animated Disney film (and the best known version of that story came into English from France)
Shoe break over, back to the Endless Queen's Game
So, if we assume Rei's corpse was thrown in the river, what does it matter? Its just a pointless headcanon
But I speculate the meaning goes deeper!
So that image of Rei, soaking wet, crawling off the floor reminded me of something: J-horror ghost girls! Specifically the most famous of ghost girls Samara/Sadako Who became a vengeful spirit after being thrown in a well and now crawls out of TVs to kill people who watched her VHS tape
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Her story too is a cyclical one (its called 'Ring' for a reason), the only way to break the curse is to copy the tape and have someone else watch it, who will then become the victim unless they can themselves copy the tape and show it to another unsuspecting patsy
The story goes back further because this movie is based on a novel, which is based on the legend of 番町皿屋敷 Banchou Sara Yashiki. There are many versions but generally a maid girl Okiku is proposed to, and when she rejects the proposal, her master breaks one of ten plates and promises to forgive her if she marries him. When she declines again, he beats her to near death then throws her into a well (sometimes it's a jealous mistress instead of a master)
Interestingly, Atrophaneura alcinous (swallowtail butterfly) larvae found in Japanese wells became known as Okikumushi お菊虫 (Okiku bugs), tying back to the whole insect thing...
It's been said a bunch now, but the name 'Rei' can be read as 霊 meaning ghost (seen in words like Yuurei 幽霊, a more common word for ghost than Rei on its own)
We know Muu is afraid of ghosts too (though I must admit she says Obake, not yuurei, but both words refer to ghosts)
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Remembers the i/井 in Sakurai/櫻井 can be read as 'well' I'm sure that has nothing to do with anything
Uh, I can't think of a conclusion because its 1 am and I had to look up a bunch of spooky images
TL;DR: I think Muu may have quickly shoved Rei's body into the river next to where the murder happened (maybe forgot her shoe at the scene of the crime) and now she's scared by the cycle continuing and Rei coming back to haunt her
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chirpsythismorning · 9 months
Text
Mike's character regression can be explained in large part by one emotion in particular: guilt
Just want to preface this by saying that, this is not Mike slander. I love this dude. In fact, I think what makes Mike such an interesting character is that a lot of his behavior throughout the series can be explained in part by previous moments, and after really looking at all these moments together, what you end up with is a pretty fucked up story.
So while some might want to take this as Mike slander, these points I'm making are a part of Mike and things he has done and said and whether they were intentionally harmful or not, it's Mike. It's all shaped him and his role in the story. The fact that we're seeing a visible shift in his behavior at all, with plenty of moments from the show to back up what brought us here, makes it compelling enough to talk about.
So, without further ado, back to our roots:
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Ah yes, the infamous canon proof disputing Mike's I think my life started that day we found you in the woods, claim during his monologue. Not only that, but in this original scene from 1x02, it turns out Mike actually intended to send her away the next day (all of which El could hear Mike saying from the open bathroom door).
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Mike outright calling El a weapon, again telling the others they need her because they stand no chance at getting Will back otherwise.
I wont elaborate on this now, because there is way too much to unpack that'll honestly be more worthwhile discussing further on.
For now, this is a secret tool that will help us later.
These next couple scenes right here though, are pretty painful if I'm being completely honest. The way its shot, specifically El's very visible exhaustion, accompanied by the varying priorities of others around her, leaves me feeling pretty unsettled upon rewatches.
I obviously can't remember how I felt when I watched these scenes for the first time, but I imagine I viewed them as this huge romantic moment for Mike and El (I was tricked by heteronormativity, okay?). But, again, upon rewatching them since then, I've realized I get this sort of sad feeling by the end. You'll see what I mean.
El obviously just went through something extremely traumatic. She tried to go find Will and Barb in the void, only to find Barb dead and Will presumably alive, but then slipping through her fingers at the last second (no, literally).
We then got a moment where Joyce held El while the others sat by quietly because she clearly needed a moment of comfort given what she just endured.
Then in this scene shortly after, everyone is leaving to get ready for their final attempt at saving Will.
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Now, notice how not only Lucas, but also Dustin make the effort to reach out to El to comfort her affectionately after that traumatic event, with those twos' actions specifically being showcased in sequence?
Lucas, who spent the better part of the season being critical of El, is now ending the season rubbing El's shoulder to warm her up, literally soothing her to make her feel better.
Then there's Dustin, who right after Lucas' gesture makes a gesture of his own, putting his hand on her knee reassuringly, to show her he's there and he's happy she's okay.
And lastly there's Mike, who is so kindly allowing El to rest her head on his shoulder. This placement of Mike and El here is definitely a testament to the fact that Mike has vouched for El this whole time in contrast to the others and so, understandably, she put her head on his shoulder for reassurance, because out of the three of them, he's the one whose been looking out for her the most. (Right?)
Now you might be thinking that this sequence's only purpose was to show Lucas and Dustin's development with El, and that it wasn't intentional that they focused on Lucas and Dustins' priorities in this moment in contrast to Mikes'. And I raise you, this next scene.
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Here we have a focus on Mike looking on to where everyone left, while the others beside him are presumably just processing what went down and taking a rest (and boy oh boy do they (El) need one).
Mike on the other-hand decides to take this moment of rest to display the most cliche and universal forms of distracted unrest known to man: he checks his watch.
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Mike then stands up abruptly, causing El to fall without his shoulder there for her to rest on anymore, all while her and Dustin are looking on after him, sort of like... Okay?
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It's small. It might seem insignificant. But if you actually pay attention to what this scene is trying to make you feel, after really looking at it for what it is, it's kind of sad.
In a moment that chooses to highlight the other boys' acknowledgment of El after what just happened, and not only that, but at the tale end of their final battle of the season, Mike is... distracted?
Mike, who has been presumably looking out for El more than the others in the party this whole time, is conveniently out of commission? And right now when El is looking for his reassurance the most? Mike doesn't even have a moment to say, 'Hey I'll be right back, I just want to check something. Can one of you?--', asking Lucas or Dustin to sit next to her in his place. No. Dude just stands up without even acknowledging her.
If it was any other moment in the show, under less post-traumatic circumstances for El, then I wouldn't even think much of it. But it's at this point in the story when El is essentially at her most exhausted and quite literally seeking out support from others, specifically Mike, that makes his distractedness so eery.
Again, you might still be thinking that this isn't that deep. However, I think based on the events leading up to this, and what follows right here, could quite literally hold the answer to the guilt Mike is still keeping to himself to this day.
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So... How are we feeling?
Are we feeling like Mike None of you are thinking about El's wellbeing right now! She could get brain damage from using her powers too much! She's not a weapon!* Wheeler is a little bit of a hypocrite? (I told you that tool would come in handy!)
It's actually quite terrifying how similar this scene is framed to the scene in Hopper's cabin in s3, where Mike pretty much says the exact opposite. In s1 Mike goes from being one of the first people to refer to El as a weapon within the context of them using her powers to find Will, with him being completely un-attuned to the fact that she is exhausted in this moment while the others are saying El's rest and safety is the most important, to then in s3 completely flipping script and saying El was using her powers for nothing, blaming the others for treating her like a weapon and not taking her wellbeing into consideration.
It would be one thing if Mike had a little arc where he acknowledged this script flip. Because that's what it is. It is them having Mike use a word in s1 to describe El, that being weapon, only to say the others are treating her like that with that same word being used. It is them having Mike not agknowledge El's well being after overusing her powers, only to say the others aren't taking her wellbeing into consideration for overusing her powers.
And it would be one thing if Mike had spoke to El or literally anyone about how he felt like he wronged El for planning on sending her away the next day after they found her so that they could go back to looking for Will, or how he said she was a weapon that they needed in order to find Will, essentially being no better than the people she just escaped from, who also used her for her powers. But we don't get that (actually we do.. but it's not acknowledged for what it is aka survivor's guilt. It's instead seen as romantic... another tool for later...)
Now, don't get me wrong, I don't think any of Mike's behavior takes away from what Mike did do for El, because yes he was kind and accepting when the others weren't. But even despite all of that, at the end of the day, he was often at the forefront of expecting El to risk her life for them, even if he wasn't outright asking that of her.
Before you freak out, No. I don't think Mike, a literal child, was capable of fathoming that El was going into these situations risking her life. She's a superhero. El's alternative was literally going back to the lab, running, or staying with Mike. This was her safest option.
After a bunch of rewatches and putting together a lot of these moments as a whole, I've come to a point where I believe that Mike's behavior throughout s1 was him thinking that because of who El was, she's already in danger at all times. That is a constant reality for her. And so why not have her help them find Will, because she is able to, all while he can also help her. And El clearly wanted to help them, because she wanted to help good people and finally do something meaningful with her powers for a change. Unfortunately, she also had to endure PTSD flashbacks almost every single time Mike and the boys had her use her powers to help find Will.
Speaking of Will, he is currently missing and possibly dead. Will also, in contrast to El (for now...), does not have any sort of superpowers.
Mike's concern over the threat of Will's livelihood is much greater than Mike's acknowledgement to the true risks El is exposing herself to each time she uses her powers to help them. That is s1 canon.
Is there times when Mike is focused on El and her well being. Absolutely! But is there also times when Mike is not showing any display of concern to El's well being in the moment, in complete contrast to the other characters around him... Also yes.
And so the events happening the way they did, with Mike himself not fully comprehending the severity of what's been going on during these high stake situations going on around him, makes sense.
And that's what makes it all the more sad that when Mike finally does realize what he's truly been asking of El this whole time, which is to risk her life for them, it's too late.
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This whole scene is obviously very emotional. All of the boys are crying, but the focus on Mike calling out for El painfully is heartbreaking.
But what's even more sad to me, is that El has been sort of used to mistreatment her whole life. She's used to having to find any comfort she could get from people in her life, all the while they were using her for her powers. I mean even despite Brenner being who he was and doing what he did, she still showed these signs of wanting to love him despite it. Which is very very fucked up. But knowing what she's gone through, makes sense.
Mike on the other-hand does greatly contrast Brenner because he was one of the first people to actually treat her with genuine kindness right from the start (before he even knew she had powers), making it a lot easier for her to care for him even despite that pesky trait of using her for her powers being almost synonymous with Brenner's very similar trait.
So when she looks back at Mike, and points him out specifically before sacrificing herself, it feels like a few things at once.
It feels like her acknowledging the fact that she appreciated him specifically for taking her in and supporting her more genuinely than anyone has in her entire life.
And yet it also feels like her, either intentionally or unintentionally, acknowledging the unfortunate side affect caused by days of Mike leading the efforts to find Will, with the expectation of her to do things to achieve that, which could have all lead to her demise technically. And so now when it all comes down to it and the stakes are at their highest yet, same as the risk, she's got to a point where she believes there is no other choice but to do just that, risk her life, especially if it means saving them.
While this is happening, Mike is backtracking in real time. He is trying to get El to stop and it's because he doesn't want her to die. Obviously.
But that's the fucked up part isn't it? When he finally realized what he's been asking of her this whole time, it's too late.
Which takes us to S2 Mike Wheeler, known by many for being a boy whose been calling his true love everyday for almost a year now because he's just so in love, but is actually in fact a boy suffering the most intense form of survivors guilt, one that involves a person who genuinely feels responsible for the persons death...
But that will probably take at least another 2,000 words so I'm thinking maybe I better split this into multiple parts.
I will tease that the next part involves one specific detail in particular that I never see anyone talk about, a detail that I think, in combination with what's discussed in this post, is so important to understanding Mike's breakdown for what it truly was at the end of season 2. I will also probably do more posts beyond that for s3-4, to delve into the impacts these moments from the first two seasons have basically put in place a perfect recipe for what is currently going down.
So feel free to stay tuned for those nonsense updates.
Continued
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lvlyghost · 11 months
Note
Hi I just read your “The Things I Never Said” oneshot and loved it. Can I get a kind of opposite version where Simon wishes to be a dad but the reader never wants to be a mom so she freaks out and gets an abortion with out Simons knowledge and later he somehow finds out? Maybe angst to fluff? Totally ignore this if you dont want to, have a wonderful day/night.
The Things I Wish I Said
Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
Summary: You decide to end things with Simon after what you did.
Word Count: 1.7k
Tw: hurt, comfort, angry simon, angst, implied abortion. Not proofread.Think that's it but lmk if i missed anything!🐸
A/N: here it is! I hope this doesn't disappoint and that it lives up to your expectations 😰🤞🏻 I really enjoyed writing this one and since it's similar to my previous fic decided to name it quite similar. ✨💞
Masterlist✨Masterpost
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He doesn't know. You stare at Simon's gargantuan body as he barks orders to the new recruits. Things have been rather... tense lately. And it's all because of you.
Yesterday had taken a toll on you. A big piece of your heart and soul lost forever in that godamn clinic. You can still smell the perfume of the nurse, feel the hands of the doctor as he tried to comfort you. You're deadly pale, tired and numb. That's why you're sitting on the other side of the field, watching the rest of your team training as usual. Nothing changes for them. You on the other hand? Can't even look at Simon in the eyes. Not anymore. The one thing he wanted the most was also the one you were the most reluctant to. It just wasn't you.
You didn't have it in your DNA. To be a mother. To carry a baby in your arms. And not because you're selfish, but you had decided a long time ago that having children was off the table.
Even when everybody would say 'you'll change your mind when you find the one'. Well it was a blatant lie because you found him. You loved Simon. You'd do whatever he asked of you. Just not this. And you hate yourself for it.
You lied to him and didn't mention anything. Didn't tell him you were pregnant with his offspring.
Couldn't even bare to maintain a conversation with him. And he's starting to notice the way your body startles when he reaches out to you. How you avoid his gaze or not kiss him anymore.
"Feeling better?" He questions, strong arms crossed. Simon doesn't fully look down where you sit but side eyes you. He awaits. You're looking out to the field, ignoring his presence as you swallow the lump in your throat.
"Not really, Lieutenant." You simply add, in a hushed tone.
He sighs but doesn't move, starting to lose his patience. He's trying so hard to understand why you're acting like this. He's preoccupied. Anxious. Yet doesn't let it show, remaining stoic as ever.
"Wanna talk about it, Sergeant?" Biting down on your lip and fidgeting with your hands you shake your head. Simon rubs his face, annoyed that whatever the fuck is happening is driving the both of you apart, so he sits down on the bench next to you. "What is it?" He turns his head to you. Arms resting on his knees.
"Simon..." you warn him with a sad tone.
"No. That's an order."
"Sir, we're done here..." One of the recruits shouts from the other side.
"You bloody keep going until I tell you to stop!" He seethes, making you flinch.
Resting your head on your hands, start thinking about the inevitable. About what you're going to do. Your heartbeat racing when you feel his eyes on you again.
"Simon..." you say. "I... I- don't think we should be together right now." It hurts deep inside because all that's left is the rustling of wind and the voices of the soldiers around. You don't turn to see his reaction, probably wouldn't be able to stand it. It's not because you didn't love him. In fact, you loved him more than he could imagine. It's what you did behind his back what's eating you alive. And the best way you can seem to cope with it is to leave him.
Not a sound comes from him for the next few seconds. Until you finally find the courage to look his way. Blue eyes scan your body.
"As you wish, kid." He whispers. You can't see it but he's already spiraling down to a dark place.
The one good thing he had...
-
"I've had enough!" Soap's voice booms in the hallway and then your door bursts open. You shriek, standing up from the bed. "I can't stand it anymore lass. You've gotta talk to him." He says.
"Johnny... we've talked about this." You murmur.
"No. I'm being serious! Ghost is more irritated than usual, he almost punched me for saying he needed to get laid. The bloody hell happened to you both?" His eyebrows furrow. "You need to figure this out, otherwise..."
"It's complicated." You deadpan.
"Well then bloody make it right! Steaming fucking Jesus you two acting like fucking children. Grow the hell up."
You had never seen Johnny this mad.
Of course you were aware of Ghost's attitude since you two broke up. And it's only been three weeks. You've been attending the military counselor since then, it's a sorrowful feeling when you think about Simon, while you talk about him. About what led to the end of your relationship or whatever it was that you two had going on.
"I believe what you went through was hard and painful. But I do think that he deserves an answer." she had insisted. "He needs to know."
It was easier said than done. Every time you thought about going to his room or wherever he'd be you got this uneasy feeling, like he somehow despised you now. That all the soft smiles and gentle caressing that were once just for you had turned into frowns and harsh commands. Dismissing you whenever you showed up to training. Not even making eye contact during debriefs. Walking right past you in the corridor. You can't help but wonder if the baby's eyes would've been more like him or yours.
Stop.
The counselor said it was a type of ptsd and that therapy would help you get through it.
"The first step is to let yourself feel that pain, make amends with it, and then go see him."
"I'll try to talk to him Johnny. I promise." You murmur, jaw clenching.
The mere thought of going to speak to Simon made your hands sweat and your heart beat frantically.
Three days after the conversation with Soap, you stand in front of Simon's bedroom door. Blinking rapidly as your mind races with all the things you ought to say. It's almost one in the morning, unable to sleep you decided the conversation couldn't wait any longer. You couldn't wait anymore. Swallowing down saliva you raise your hand, two soft knocks on the door echoing in the empty hallway and you wait patiently, fumbling with your hands as the anxiety begins to raise.
Simon doesn't open so you knock again two times only to be greeted by more silence and a loud thunder outside in the sky.
A quiet huff leaves your mouth as you turn on your heel and leave. Wandering around the compound with no clear direction. It's dead silent, you're left with your own self destructive thoughts as you walk past the gym. A low thud can be heard from behind the doors so you backtrack and take a glimpse through the window.
Why is he at the gym at this ungodly hour?
Pushing past the door you walk sluggishly, Simon's quick to notice the disturbance, ready to snap at whomever is here to interrupt his midnight routine. It's been like this for weeks now; not being able to sleep. The nightmares that had disappeared for the most part came back with full force.
There's a hollow feeling inside of him ever since you decided to call it quits. He doesn't fucking understand, he's mad. Furious even. Can't help the anger whenever he wakes up and you're not there anymore. Can't bear the sight of you during debriefings and not even looking his way. The way you freeze when he has to order you around.
Had he done anything to make you fearful of him?
He needed to know, he needs answers. He'd ask tomorrow. He swears. Whatever it was. Then he'll walk away.
He stands from where he was about to start the second round of push-ups. Simon's able to recognize your silhouette with the lights off, he just knows you that well. Wherever you were, in a sea full of people he'd know it's you even then.
"Sorry..." you murmur. Simon's looking at you over his left shoulder through the mirror in front of him, you stand a few steps behind him. "I didn't mean to interrupt."
He stays silent. It's now that you come to realize that he isn't wearing the mask, instead lies on the room floor, discarded. "Was looking for you in your room but-"
"Say it." He barks, turning around and stalking towards you. His presence alone making you feel smaller. His brows are knitted, jaw clenched so hard you're sure he'll break his teeth. Simon is massive. Yet, despite all of this you know he'd never lay a finger on you, nor hurt you. "Fucking start talking, kid." The hurt in his voice is palpable. You fumble with your hands, it's getting harder to keep your eyes on his. You do not deserve his love at all. "Because I've been losing my mind ever since you shut me out."
A soft wail escapes your lips, you try to muffle it. Simon hesitates for a second. Wanting nothing more than to hold you in his arms, he awaits.
"I... I- got pregnant." You cried. "And you've always known I never wanted that. I panicked and didn't say a word because it would be more painful or...-" you swallow through incessant tears. "Or so I thought. I decided to get rid of it, Simon. But seeing what's done to us. What I've done... I'm so fucking sorry I don't deserve-"
Suddenly you're engulfed by strong arms and a broad chest as you finally let go and cry rivers of pain and regret. He's murmuring sweet things in your ear that you can't understand die to your deteriorating situation.
"It's okay. It's okay, love. Fucking hell, should've come to me." He growled. "Don't you ever do this to me again, kid. You didn't have to do it alone. Christ."
There's a soft kiss on the top of your head as your cries start to die down and all there's left are soft whimpers.
"I never meant to leave you, but I couldn't be close to you after what I did behind your back." You sniff.
The ever gentle caressing of his thumb on your back never ceases, providing the comfort you so desperately seek.
"S'alright, love. Nothing to be sorry about." He takes a step back keeping you at arms length. "There she is." A little broken but starting to be pieced back together. He gently wipes your cheeks and breathes deep. "I'm here. Always."
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ssentimentals · 2 years
Text
dating vernon feels like…
being accepted for who you are. hansol leaves no room for pretense or anything fake; he’s here for honesty, raw imperfection and everything that makes you the person you are. unfiltered thoughts, sincere emotions, undisguised vulnerability - hansol wants it all, can’t stand the notion of you hiding parts of yourself from him.
('i’m a mess,' you whimper and he shushes you, carefully prying your hands from your face. you didn't want him to see your puffed up face and red eyes and-
'don’t hide from me,' he asks (begs, really). his heart breaks a little at the sight of your tears, but one of you has to stay strong and it'll be him. 'it’s okay to cry, just don’t- don’t shut me out, yeah? i'm here.')
and he is here. always there for you. he joins you on your sporadic dancing outbursts in the living room or in the middle of the street, invests his whole attention into anything you’re interested in from cooking to new anime series.
('are you tired? it's okay, we can watch it next time,' you say, not pressing 'play' button. hansol shakes his head and you sigh in exasperation and fondness, when he stubbornly presses the button for you and starts the first episode. 'hansol, you're going to fall asleep right now.'
'and you raved about this anime for the whole week, we're definitely watching it.' he cuts you off and yawns against his better judgement, making you roll your eyes. he gets comfortable and motions for you to also relax, smiling in satisfaction when you lean on his right side. 'i read the wikipedia page about this and checked few forums,' he suddenly says and lifts his eyebrow when you stop and turn to him look at him, surprised. 'what?'
there's warmth in your heart that spreads all over your body and you smile so wide your cheeks start to hurt. 'nothing. let's watch the episode.')
there's no need to put a show with him, he accepts you with your morning breath and pillow creases on your cheeks, just as he accepts you all dolled up, ready for the date. he is straightforward but he's not blunt about it, always chooses his words carefully because hurting you is never his intention. his compliments sound more like fact statements ('why are you asking me this? it's like asking if sun is hot, of course you look wonderful!') and he can and will call you out if you're being not fair ('babe, i'm gonna be honest here and say that you were wrong in this situation. i understand where you're coming from, but saying that was a wrong thing to do.').
his touch is gentle and his kiss is chaste and sweet. dating hansol is like being back in the high school again, when holding hands while walking down the corridor made your hearts flutter. he makes you feel giddy with excitement but at ease at the same time. he makes you feel like it's alright to be who you are, imperfect and what not. ('i am just me and you are just you - it's simple.')
dating hansol is chill dates with popcorn and some netflix movie playing the background, because there is no need for all the fancy things when being together is most important. it's him sending you music recs and you sending him memes and staying up late till 3 a.m because you two are texting each other nonstop. it's him waiting for yours 'i'm home' text so he can go to bed and you waking up to 'morning, beautiful. have the best day' text from him.
dating hansol is like breathing with your full chest, unrestricted. he makes you feel like you're worthy of everything just by being you, like sky is the limit, like impossible is nothing.
('you think i can make it?' you ask with a trembling voice. nerves are eating you up alive but when he takes your hands in his and squeezes, the world doesn't look like such a scary place anymore.
'i know you will make it,' he says and he sounds so sure, no trace of doubt that you have no other choice but to believe him. 'everything will work out. and in case it doesn't - i'm here.'
'you are always here,' you say, rolling your eyes but smiling widely.
hansol nods, serious. 'and i always will be.')
a/n: this was supposed to be in bullet points but of course i got carried away. it's very spontaneous, hope you liked this one!
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arkhamsrevenge · 6 months
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pls pls write a fanfic where we cuddle harry in bed, poor baby has been through so much :(((
Of course I can my friend! I hope you enjoy!
It had been a long week. Pete was acting like an ass, MJ was too preoccupied with that to focus on Harry, who was fine up until about a week ago. MJ called you as she was worried about Pete and Harry. You would look after Harry while she tried to figure out what was wrong with Peter. So now, you're in the guest bedroom of Harry’s house looking up at the ceiling and worrying about him. Is he going to be alive tomorrow? The thought came and went so quickly as you pushed it out of your mind. You CAN’T think like that. You took a deep breath and got up from the bed. Maybe some water will help. Your feet touched the wooden floor making it creak, you then padded to the kitchen. 
“You too?” A voice whispered from the dark. You gasped. 
“Harry!” You whisper yelled. “You scared the shit outta me!” You said holding your chest. “Why are you up?” You asked, turning the light over the sink on. 
“Wanted to get some water. Thought I could do it myself, stuck here now.” He said. At first you were puzzled then realized his strength must have failed him therefore, he’s stuck in the kitchen until the pain allowed him to move again with his cane. You nodded and filled up two glasses of water and handed one to Harry. With shaking hands, he quickly gulped it down. You then noticed sweat covering his entire person. A bit of water trickled down from his mouth. You swallowed and fought the urge to wipe it away with your thumb. Not wanting to overstep. So you instead just drank your drink then put the glasses in the sink. 
“Come on, let’s get you back to bed.” You said as Harry grabbed his cane. You took hold of his waist and he put an arm around your shoulder. He was hot, body temperature wise and it almost felt like he was scorching your skin.
“You’re freezing.” Harry whispered. You felt his breath on the side of your face but you kept your head facing front. 
“No you're just hot?” You whispered back to which Harry chuckled. 
"Thank you but that's not what we're talking about. Now back to the fact that you're freezing." You sputter not prepared for him to mess with you like that.
"Not in that way Dipshit." You say as you open the door to his room. You got him to the edge of his bed and sat him down. 
“OK, text me next time you want something please.” You said with your hands on your hips. Harry mumbled. 
“Just wanted to get water…I’m too weak to do that.” He chuckled. You felt your heart start to break. You didn’t know what to say to that. “Thanks.” Harry said, looking up at you and smiling. You smile back and nod. “Goodnight Harry.” You say turning to the door. You reached for the handle until,
“You can stay…if you want. One thing I can do is keep you warm.” Your heart leaped into your throat and you turned to face Harry who wasn’t looking at you, only the ground as if afraid you’d reject him. Without a word you walked back to the bed and sat next to him. 
“If you snore I’m sleeping elsewhere.” You mumble. Harry huffed out a laugh and started to lay back on his side. You do the same, though a little nervous, you stay facing Harry looking into his blue eyes that look so dull and tired. Harry reached out his hand to you, his fingertips brushing up against your jaw line then he rested his hand on your cheek.  Harry advances closer as if testing the waters.
“You feel really nice. It’s scorching in here.” You shifted closer to him and opened up your arms to which he slid into them and you engulfed him in your arms, your head resting on top of his. Harry let out a content sigh. “Thanks Tulip.” He whispered. You blushed at your old nickname remembering the day he met you in High School. 
“The gardening club worked all week on these! And look what you did!” Tammy yelled at Flash Thompson. “Look, it’s just a few roses. Who cares?” You rolled your eyes. At the same time Harry and Peter were walking by and Flash took the opportunity to knock Harry’s laptop out of his hand, shattering it. That was when you stepped in. 
“That’s it. Flash I have never met someone whose head is loaded with as much saw dust as your. I thought it was just an act but now I’m thinking you really are a moron in Chem and aren’t just trying to bang the teacher Ms. Vellos which by the way is a weird way to announce to the world you have mommy issues. So take your bone headed boys who follow you around like puppies cause they too do not possess a single original thought in their head and get away from me and the rest of the students here that have already written you off as a dumb jock who peaked in high school.” You finished in a  monotone voice. Flash, not knowing what to say, just turned around with his hands in his pockets and walked off with his friends who were also just as stunned. “AND THEY WERE TULIPS NOT ROSES!” You shouted after them to which all the students around you burst into laughter. 
“Thanks for that.” You turned to Harry who was picking up pieces of his laptop. “Sorry about your laptop.” You mumbled helping him. 
“It’s fine, Tulip. I can always get another one.”  You smirked at the new nickname. No one else would dare call you that. Only Harry. 
“Course.” You whisper back. The room fell silent, you waited for Harry to fall asleep first. Once his breathing evened out and his body relaxed, you knew he was asleep. You held him close like he’d disappear again if you let go and let yourself drift off. You then place a kiss on his forehead and forced yourself to relax. Your mind was still racing but you were so drained at the same time that finally you felt yourself drifting off.
Any more requests? Send them to me or in the comments!
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hetrosjistin · 3 months
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All of you talking about how Alastor is bound to Lilith are sleeping on Zestial.
Seriously, all of you are ignoring ALL the signs. Been talking this over with a friend several nights in a row, and it's such a better theory than assuming that Lilith owns him (that's not to say that Alastor and Lilith aren't in cahoots SOMEHOW, but that's something for another post)
Now there's not a large sample size, but let's start with this one. Alastor's contract chains do not match his emissive colors at all, nor the colors of his magic. He has red and black as his demonic magic motif. Why does this matter? Well the only other sample we have for contract magic is Valentino with his smoke chains on Angeldust, which is identical to his magic.
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Above you can see Valentino's emissive color, the color of his magic in full force, and the color of his contract magic. Now let's do this with Alastor
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Emissive colors, magic colors when he's personally about to fuck someone up without calling on his shadow minions... and... his contract magic... huh...
Extra ones of him doing deals with charlie as a bonus:
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So a bit of wild theory crafting now.
What happens if you are bound to someone else and you go around and get someone to sell their soul to you? What if your soul contracts roll up to the guy who owns your soul? So your contract magic uses THEIR colors?
Okay, then who DOES have the same emissive colors (those used for magic in almost every case).
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Zestial is the only one who comes close, even if he's more yellowy, I blame that on the overall lighting of the scene.
Further evidence?
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The ONLY time Alastor looks even REMOTELY frightened is when he's speaking with Zestial. Even when he's with other overlords he's irreverant and playful, NOT with Zestial, he's cagey, he's polite, he's watching what he says.
Further, during this conversation the subtext is CONSTANTLY on a back and forth of 'oh I know where you've been, and YOU know where you've been, but we're in public so we have to speak in code' plus the scene CONSTANTLY focuses on the fact of how they are under observation either by direct persons or through electronic means (but stealthily elides this by implying it's just the impact 2 overlords walking around in public would have on society)
Oh, and did you notice? The demonic stitching that appears on Alastor's body? Same style as the stitching we see Zestial's hat and other bits of clothing.
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Then there's the fact that he's one of the only characters with consistent COLOR THEMING to his songs, whenever he does songs, (ESPECIALLY those having to do with deals or trying to maintain his deals), he's got green and... purple?
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Why the fuck purple? Purple doesn't turn up anywhere. This is where the theory falls apart a little, but if I had to guess? It's an allusion to something. What could it be?
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But why then is his contract magic showing in these songs? Does Zestial have some deep interest in the hotel?
I think not, but Alastor has very DEEP contract related reasons for his interest.
Let's take a quick aside to another of Alastor's song pieces. Let's consider the pit as Alastor prepares to leave his tower during his breakdown song in the season finale. The center of Alastor's power is his broadcast tower, it's painted everywhere in his colors, from top to bottom. The last time he sang in here, all of his emissive colors were black and red... hell, even when he ENTERED it, it was HIS colors.
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but now with him beaten, broken, and focused on the deal he so desperately wants to escape...
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Oh look, Zestial's colors again.
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Alastor's power is a shadow cast by Zestial's light. He is chained to it, it's what keeps him alive and gives him his power... but all the same, he wants out.
He's looking for a loophole. A way out of the deal.
If you get to heaven, can a Overlord still own you soul?
This helps explain why Alastor was willing to come out of hiding fo the hotel, why he's so nervous around Zestial, why Zestial is poking for reasons, subtly, about what the fuck Alastor is doing in their conversation with one another going to the overlord's meeting.
So smart money says that Alastor made a deal with Zestial before he died, and became Zestial's catspaw. How was he able to fuck up everything and everyone he came across the moment he turned up? Because he had a tutor and a big old battery backstopping him. Zestial is the most subtle of the overlords, he wants to remain in the background, he wants to play things safe and is always happy to be underestimated and underrated... so he comes along and takes the hammiest, loudest, most attention grabbing soul he has in his portfolio the moment they get down to Hell, and puts him to work CLEANING HOUSE.
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babyangelsky · 3 months
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Non is the hidden character and in this essay I will—
—endeavor to make a really good case for it.
This theory is predicated on the possibility of Non still being alive so for my purposes, I'm going to take that as fact. I'm taking a few liberties in places (to varying degrees of clownery) but that central point doesn't change.
This is a long one so get comfy. Okay? Okay.
As of episode 9, we can now be reasonably certain that none of the creepy shit the boys saw was of supernatural origin. They were hallucinations induced by the drug that New/Tan had them smoke in an attempt to get them to spill their secrets about what happened to Non.
Which brings me to Por.
We know two things about Por. One, that something—or someone—lured him out of the house and two, that he saw a ninth person on the house's CCTV.
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Was the ninth person a hallucination? If he hadn't been lured out of the house, I'd say maybe. Since he was, let's assume he really did see someone for a second on the cameras.
Now, whoever it was didn't just get Por out of the house. He was specifically led down a predetermined path. When he gets outside and goes to the spot where he saw the figure, he looks down and sees a trail of blood.
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He follows this trail and we all know what happens next. He gets deeper into the woods, away from the safety of the house, and starts to hear noises. He turns around, sees a hooded figure following him, and gets chased into a sharpened branch.
Even though New and Phi, although to a lesser extent, are the masterminds behind this little trip to the vacation house, at this moment they are both accounted for. New is playing jenga and getting high with Top and Fluke and Phi is up on the balcony having his dick bitten by Jin. They weren't the ones who lured Por and chased him.
Non did.
What, we're meant to believe that Por just happened to hallucinate a chase that happened to lead him right into a conveniently sharpened branch? And that of all the gin joints in all the cities in all the world, he just had to walk into mine the bad luck of encountering the one branch that was at the perfect height to impale him?
Which is, coincidentally enough, the exact death scenario that Non wrote in his script?
BE SERIOUS.
The only way Por meets this exact death is if Non was the one to kill him, and that leads me to the wire that ended up decapitating poor dead Uncle Dang. A wire which I truly don't think that was meant for him.
Let's follow this line of reasoning. We know that Top and Tee took the road when they went to get help for Por on the bike. This would ultimately fail as they got a flat tire and had to go back, having themselves a hallucination a piece along the way.
At that point, there was no wire stretched across the road. Once they got back to the house, no one would come outside again until morning when they heard Uncle Dang approach on his bike. The wire could've been strung up at any point after the boys got back.
Let's say that after ensuring Por got impaled, Non stuck around to see the aftermath and saw Tee and Top on the bike. Wouldn't it make more sense then for him to have strung up the wire to prevent anyone from leaving as opposed to stopping anyone from coming in?
Because if he is following his script then...
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"But Leah," I hear you ask after having humored me thus far, "How would Non even know that the boys would be at the vacation house?"
This is where I sit back down at my vanity mirror in the dressing room at the circus and start taking some liberties.
For Non to have lived, someone had to help him. I mentioned yesterday that I was hopping on the Perth helped Non train and after giving it more thought, I'm doubling down. It's not only possible that Perth helped Non, he had to have done it, and not only because I want Non to be alive so very badly.
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Why would Perth and his cheekbones be on the promotional poster for the finale (BESIDE NON I MIGHT ADD) if his character weren't important to the plot? Why would he be there if his only role was to massage Uncle Joe's shoulders?
Allow me to posit a Wild Ass Theory a la @respectthepetty :
If Perth's character helped Non and Known Criminal Keng escape Uncle Joe, that means the video where they were captured getting on a bus was authentic.
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But because Uncle Joe and the mafia are still a threat, they can't just go chill somewhere. They have to go on the run and into hiding somewhere they won't be found.
Somewhere like a rarely visited vacation house in the middle of the forest with no contact with the outside world.
Or, alternatively, a creepy temple near that rarely visited vacation house.
Think about it. Non had already been to that house, he's familiar with it, he knows it's empty for long stretches of time and exactly how isolated it is. A terrified teenager fearing for his life is going to want to go somewhere familiar and that house (or the temple) is the perfect place to hide.
I don't think Non went to hide there with the intention, or the hope rather, that he'd get an opportunity for revenge one day. I think he just took advantage of a situation that fell into his lap.
The boys arrived in the afternoon and shit didn't start going down until later that night. That's plenty of time to sharpen a branch, lay down a blood trail, and put on his mask and cloak.
We know all the movie props and the camera and everything were still at the house so it stands to reason that Non had access to them. And we know he had access to the house because White found the knife that was used to cut Por's arms in the closet in the kitchen. The only way that knife could've gotten there is if Non put it there.
Not just any knife, by the way. It was Non's knife, the one that he brought to the house when they came to film and then used to cut Top.
I can't say with any certainty whether Non is acting on his own or with help, but I lean more toward him acting alone. Even if he escaped with Keng, it doesn't mean Keng is still with him all this time later and besides, I much prefer to imagine that ol' boy got eaten by a tiger.
One last thing. This isn't really part of my theory, more like support for it, but when Por is agonizing on the couch, he keeps saying sorry and trying to talk about what he and the boys did three years ago. It could just be a coincidence or deathbed guilt, but I don't think it is. I think Por knows exactly who killed him and that's why he kept apologizing and trying to confess.
In conclusion:
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Hope you don't mind being tagged for the DFF round up @slayerkitty ! 🙏🏼
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