For the foreseeable future i'll be moving Dylan to @minimultimuse
Please send / ping me over there in any threads you want to continue
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@brockjr-a
For the foreseeable future i'll be moving Dylan to @minimultimuse
Please send / ping me over there in any threads you want to continue
For the foreseeable future i'll be moving Dylan to @minimultimuse
Please send / ping me over there in any threads you want to continue
// I may move Dylan to my multi, it would just be a little easier for me..
// I've had almost non stop 12 hour shifts, I will be trying to get some replies done but production season is super busy
OOC commission promo
sorry to do this but my taxes got filed wrong and now I owe like $700, I will be FINE, Iโm not trying to cause any panic or guilt at all, but if you guys ever want any commissions (see @depictukinetic ) I would greatly appreciate it and it would just help me make a few ends meet but, again no pressure or anything I will be okay
The day her baby was born was when she knew she'd love nobody as much as she loved this kid. It terrified her just a little bit, the idea of raising someone in this kind of world. Anne knew she was tough, was raised to stand up for herself, and make her own decisions; she wasn't sure how to pass that down to the next generation without screwing it up somehow. So far, she's not doing a bad job, even if Peter has to remind her every now and then ( despite every backhanded comment regarding the co-parent she's bodysharing with ).
She knew her kid was smart, at least where it mattered. Even Anne was having a hard time with the ( admittedly complicated ) math equations set on the table before them. But there's something in the way he speaks, like a hesitation; the symbiote calls it her mom-sense, whenever she suspects something about him, and it's one of the few things Peter agrees with it about. He's thinking hard about something to tell her, shaking in the same way he did when he played ball in the apartment and knocked over a few pictures. He's scared, terrified, maybe. Of her? Of the symbiote? How they might react?
"Oh, sweetie . . ." The implication is there enough; Anne has spent years learning how to communicate through feelings, a language adopted from the symbiote that has somehow weaved its way into this family. Her arm comes around over his shoulder, pulling him into a hug, kissing the top of his head. "Of course I can. These are the ones you picked out?"
The symbiote extends its tendrils to pick up the journal, raising it for her to read without having to let him go. Some of these names are ill-fitting, the kinds of names a teenage boy would pick without thinking too much. A few others, however, she distinctly remembers thinking about many years ago. Her hand cards through his hair gently as she hums. "How about . . . Dylan? I like that name. Does that sound good?"
" Dylan. "
He nodded, leaning into the hug. Tears had already began streaming down his face, relief over flowing. He knew it would be okay. He wrapped his arms around her, letting out a shaky breath. Tension bleeding from his shoulders as the weight was lifted.
" Yeah. Dylan. Thanks, mom. "
Already, he's thinking of the many many things they would have to change, the paperwork, school labels, his name at school itself. But when he finally looks up to his mother's face he knows it will all be okay. She's always stood up for him.
And he's hugging her tighter, tears starting all over again.
" Thank you.. I love you. "
di.sc drop
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NEVER FEEL BAD ABT MESSAGING ME I LOVE YAPPING ABT CHARS
gonna try and get to replies soon, got consumed by my pkm muses
SOMEWHERE IN THE CRYING, THERE WAS A SWITCH. he knew it all too well. wearing a mask, trying to be well behaved, hoping it would be enough. hoping it would earn him a love that never came. hoping if he just behaved, he'd be noticed in his goodness. GOD WOULD SMILE DOWN ON HIM, AND HE COULD FINALLY BREATHE. it never happened. god never answered his prayers. the old man in the sky wasn't listening - he never had. and seeing that shift, feeling it in fact, coming from his own child... for a moment, he squeezed him tighter, terrified to let go.
like if he just held him tight enough, long enough... he could squeeze all that trauma out of him. he couldn't. you made your bed, eddie brock. now lie in it.
โ dylan... โ he sighed softly, his words threatening tears yet again. a hand reached out, pushing a strand of hic child's hair behind his ears ( too long, needed a cut... ), buying himself time to figure out what he needed to say. the spoken word hadn't come easy to him in a long while. typing, writing... that was natural. life of a reporter. but he opened his mouth, and... christ, they'd been alone too long. โ ... it's not you, son. i know... i know that sounds like a cliche. i never wanted - โ he swallowed hard, throat hoarse as he struggled with the words. โ ... i never meant to leave you alone. but maybe... somewhere down the line... i convinced myself you were better off without me. โ he knew his other had grappled with a similar dilemma. now, reunited... he felt everything. everything they had experienced in his absence. the fear. the powerlessness. the weight of responsibility, to be that parent to a child who'd just lost one.
( we did this to him... / DIDN'T KNOW, EDDIE. CAN'T PREDICT THE FUTURE. ) he knew. deep down, he knew, his other was right. and yet, he tortured himself anyway, running a hand through his boy's hair, trying to be comforting, soothing. letting him cry as much as he needed... as long as he needed. ( ... all that power, my love... what was the point if we couldn't even protect him? / EDDIE... HE'S STILL HERE. AND NOW... SO ARE YOU. )
a shaky breath followed. he soldiered on. โ ... i was sick. and i was wrong. fact is, we've known it from the beginning, son. we're stronger when we're together. i... i just needed a little reminder of that. โ
dylan tries to speak, but he can't. the cries and sobs, they overpower any other action, any other thought. so he let's it. completely. it felt like hours, when dylan finally pulled away. still shaking as he did. wiping the tear stains off his face, his breathing trying to catch up. sharp inhales and exhales slowly evened out before taking one more large shaky breath in as he shook his head.
maybe his life would be easier without eddie maybe he could've just stayed with c-- no he didn't even want to think about it. what would be normal about that childhood anyway? less aliens and fighting for the world? he didn't want that. he didn't want it easy if easy meant eddie wasn't in his life anymore.
" you leave again and... " he trailed off unable to think of anything " sleeper will probably kill you, or something " his own words got a laugh out of him. just a few years ago he would have never expected to have a family who cared about him as much as this one did. as strange as the family was he was one of them and he wouldn't have it any other way. him, his dads, his strange cat-brother he loved, anne.. who. wasn't his mother but, another version of her he may never get to see again.
he wanted a family, no matter what form it came in.
" I just. I thought. maybe it was me. " he stumbled over his words, hands fidgeting with his hoodie's draw string. " maybe you. didn't want me anymore "
and he knew it wasn't true. but he had been thrust onto eddie's life. eddie could've left him with carl no he couldn't, wouldn't.. right? dylan shook his head to dismiss the thoughts.
" I kinda showed up and. took over your life... and " he could feel the tears starting to swell in his eyes again.
@ag3ntv sent : โ being a teenager is going to be really tough, so I want you to know that you can always come to me for support. or anything, really, no matter how silly it is. โ source
it felt like maybe? the third time since his birthday she's said something like that. with that same look on her face. like this moment was going too soon. he'd never hid much from her. sure maybe when he accidentally broken a few picture frames he'd lied about it. for 5 minutes before tearfully apologising. but the big stuff? no. never. " I know, mom. "
he stared back down at the homework on the table. he had been trying to get used to doing his own homework. not that anyone has told him to stop asking for help. he just didn't think he needed it anymore... he had to start figuring things out for himself eventually. but there were a few things he.. struggled with.
he knew she wasn't going to react badly. they'd talked about it before, when he was younger and confused why is uncle peter was holding hands with another man? they'd read books and watched tv shows together. what he was more worried about was picking a name. he didn't hate his name but. he didn't like it for him. opening his journal he'd started keeping a while back. and placing down a messy disorganised list of boy names
" ... can you help me pick a new name "
already tears started to swell in his eyes. it was going to be okay, but the small amount of fear and nervousness mixed with relief of finally doing it was hitting him.
updated my rules + blog roll :)
God, was she this much of a pain when she was that age? She'd had to grow up a lot faster ever since she became Mania, but part of Andi liked to think she still carried a bit of that teenage rebellion. Except now she had to be the adult here, fun...
She understood his frustration, having power and then losing it, forced out of the fight, benched, it happened when Mania had been taken from her. At first, she'd wanted nothing more than to be of use, but then got used to civilian life, until a certain red nightmare returned and uprooted her life.
"Call me Silence. My other was made from what remains of the old Scream, fused with Anti-Venom." Not sure if being bonded to Scream meant there was some kind of connection between them, or if being bonded to Mania, a clone of Venom would techincally make her an Aunt...
"For someone who's supposed to be lying low, you seem to have a habit for causing trouble."
"I don't want to." he hissed. "everyone wants to keep me locked up and quiet and I'm sick of it!"
he hated them all. eddie for leaving him again, flash for just handing him off to someone he doesn't even know, normie who got to keep his symbiote, and bren got to go back to his family. the symbiote, abandoning him. again. and sleeper, that stung the most. his brother.
"unless you know where my dad is, or the new venom or-- someone who can actually help. stay away from me."
a small part of him that didn't like being mean to someone. but then the rest of him didn't care. all too enveloped in anger and grief to care. everyone else seemed to be just FINE living their lives and leaving him to the dust once again. what did he do to deserve this...?
what's our mission?
independent, selective, oc & (comic only) crossover friendly marvel comics 616 BUCKY BARNES
by jay, 24, he/him, ADCT
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Dylan's hesitation doesn't go unnoticed; Anne will hold her tongue before saying it aloud, but this is a damn weird situation to be put in. It's like seeing ghosts wander her halls. Her dead ex-husband, her comatose son, their identical copies stuck under her supervision as the world around them slowly rebuilds itself. Reed said he'd get the machine done in a year, and Anne can't help but think that's not soon enough. The perfect facsimile of the family she'd always wanted, right in her arm's reach. Some would call her a fool to be so quick to shove them back out of her life, but she knows it was never really meant to be. It's all a fantasy, and Anne would rather live in her reality. It's smarter that way.
"Oh-- no, no, please," she nearly stutters. She doesn't want help, [ but it would be nice to have it ]. "It's a lot, and you only just got here. You just sit there, and I'll . . ." Hastily, she leaves to grab a bucket and a washcloth from under the sink. This should've been done weeks ago, but Anne hasn't been in this room since the war started. It's practically gone untouched until now. The worst of it is by the bed, where swirls stretch onto the bedframe, red marker on wood. She knows she can't get it out of that, but the least she can do is scrub it off the adjacent wall.
It's a little awkward; so used to the silence of this room, it's strange to not just be in it but to see him here too. The symbiote wraps around her mind like a warm blanket. They can't just ignore him-- "Is your room . . . anything like this? In your world?"
in the short amount of time she was gone, dylan began trying to clean some things. where would I put these if i had a room. if. he placed some of the robot toys, and figures on top of his dresser, but spider-man sat on his bed side table, just under his lamp. he can't remember the last time someone bought a toy for him. not the false memories of a happy family. maybe it was his last birthday with carl, given $50 and 20 minutes to walk around the toy store unsupervised while his grandfather waited in the car.
" uh. " he thinks about lying for a moment. but. even if those memories are false, even if she's not his anne. he doesn't want to lie to her. no more secrets, right? the guilt ate at him. lying to his father, now he's be lying to his mother. (switching from dad to carl had been easy. eddie to dad was harder. mom felt natural, but he wasn't allowing himself that.)
" no. I haven't had a bed since... ed-i mean dad saved me. " his face seems to darken, averting his gaze to look around the room. did this dylan ever have to endure the wrath of carl? a cold night out on the streets? eddie was trying, he was doing his best with the shit hand dealt to him. but this was all he ever wanted. a loving home, a normal childhood, home cooked meals. not everyone got to have that. it was just fucking unfair, like everything in life. he hoped those false memories would become something he came to think back to with fondness instead of the mixture of emotions he current sat with. angry it wasn't his life. but glad it could save someone. even if it was technically himself
dylan struggled to form his next sentence, switching his phrasing before he finally mumbled " um carl he... "
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the days peter came over were nice, they were few and far between. but since his dad had up and left on whatever symbiote god things he needed to do, and the symbiote wasn't around much. he enjoyed when anyone stopped by. dylan opened the front door slowly at first until he saw the familiar face "did you bring food?"
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