Michael Langdon makes my heart ache because he only ever wanted to be good. He tried to be good, but everyone was telling him that because he's the antichrist, that's all he's ever gonna be and no one helped him. They all gave up on him and reinforced the beliefs which others had drilled into him from the time of his birth and then when he finally became the antichrist, he was still lost and afraid and asking for guidance and still no one was helping him or listening and then they wondered why he just... leaned into it and became what he'd always been told he was and then he still wasn't loved, he was hated for it and in this essay I will -
I want to hug him very very tightly, kiss his forehead and tell him he's loved. He comforts me and gives me the bravery I need to live my life and even though he'd snap me like a twig in a very unsexy way with zero hesitation, I still like to believe that he would love me like I love him.💔
You cannot convince me James March never had an extensive skin care routine. That man had the best products money could buy in his time and used them religiously.
pls an angst about jpm where his s/o dies outside hotel
bright eyes//jpm
pairings; james patrick march x fem reader
rating; pg??
warnings; mentions of death, mourning, losing a loved one
(this fic is based on the song bright eyes by art garfunkel!! all rights belong to him!!)
She was gone.
Gone for good.
Gone without him being able to bring her back.
Gone for all eternity..
James couldn’t believe it when he heard Liz sobbing about it in the bar. Those words she dropped when she revealed you were gone forever, would haunt his soul for the rest of his afterlife.
Is it a kind of dream?
Floating out on the tide
Following the river of death downstream
Oh, is it a dream?
It all felt completely unreal to him. Never had he imagined still roaming this earth without you. You were what made him feel the true meaning of happiness. What actual love felt like, it was all experienced with you, and you only.
There’s a fog along the horizon
A strange glow in the sky
And nobody seems to know where it goes
And what does it mean?
Oh, is it a dream?
Now, he felt everything he’d put his victims through. Pain. Pure, pure pain. Agonising, heartbreaking, pain.
Without you, James felt lost. He felt like an utter, empty shell of a man. Wasting away, with nothing that could stop it.
Bright eyes, burning like fire
Bright eyes, how can you close and fail?
How can the light that burned so brightly
Suddenly burn so pale?
Bright eyes..
When you walked into the Cortez, James felt nothing but wonderful, happy, joyful feelings. You’re beauty was a blessing to his soul. You’re voice was music to his ears. You’re love was something that touched him so very dearly, and he vowed to never give you up.
Is it a kind of shadow?
Reaching into the night
Wandering over the hills unseen
Or, is it a dream?
James had and always thought he’d be a lonely soul forever. Watching his past lover move on from man to man, hypnotising them into her touch. Commanding them to do whatever the hell she wanted. Whilst Mr March just sat and watched, his stone cold heart slowly broke into tiny fragments of what would have been.
There’s a high wind in the trees
A cold sound in the air
And nobody ever knows when you go
And where do you start?
Oh, into the dark
But when you suddenly popped up and promised to stay by his side, those tiny little bits and pieces of his heart knitted back together, making him fall head over heels for you.
Bright eyes, burning like fire
Bright eyes, how can you close and fail?
How can the light that burned so brightly
Suddenly burn so pale?
Bright eyes..
He felt that passion and fire return to his body that seemed lost all those years ago. You cured his craving for the feeling of being loved by another person. That beautiful feeling of listening to the pace of you’re beating heart go faster and faster whenever he was near.
Bright eyes, burning like fire
Bright eyes, how can you close and fail?
How can the light that burned so brightly
Suddenly burn so pale?
Bright eyes..
But now, he was left to weep for you to come back to him for all eternity. You’re beating heart no longer existed. You’re corpse no longer had that warmth he always enjoyed feeling whenever he was in you’re embrace. James Patrick March would now be what he always was once before, alone. His sobs would fill the Cortez as he wailed for you each day. Forever.
Evan Peters behind the scenes of the X-Men movies. Im just going to pretend these are just pictures I have of Peter in my camera roll because we are in a committed relationship.
kyle is a bit overwhelmed with choosing the best bouquet of flowers for valentine’s day | gender neutral reader
liked the fic? tell me! reblogs, comments, and asks are always welcomed and encouraged! it keeps writers like me and many others motivated to write more content for you for free :)
happy valentine’s day, babies! i hope you all had a good one surrounded with love and all good things, as you all deserve that and only the best. remember you are loved, always— and you’re so so swag, here’s some frakenkyle fluff just for you <3
warnings: none
words: 1.6K
It was simply mesmerizing.
How beautiful the flowers were, that is. How each bundle was so utterly unique with its own set of strengths and flaws, each having a different focal point, each having their own color, and size, and purpose.
The poms, accompanied by carnations nearly every time, though he’s spotted a couple bouquets only featuring the former. The sunflowers, vibrant and lively, screaming at him to choose them with their bright yellow petals. The roses, captivating and romantic, hosting several different options in various colors that had him overwhelmed.
Kyle stood in front of the wall adorned by bouquets, his grip slowly loosening increasingly more and more on the bright green hand basket. He reached out finally, as if he were about to make a selection, but merely brushed his fingers along the petals of pink rose surrounded by a blooming variety of filler flowers just as pretty. It was soft under his fingertips, reminding him of your lips and how gentle they were when he touched them. These certainly were a contender, but they just didn’t scream out to him like he hoped an arrangement would. One that would, without a single doubt in his mind, be so uniquely you.
Unknowingly, Kyle had been at the supermarket for a solid hour now— and the majority of that time was spent where he was standing, looking over the abundance of bouquets and thinking about just what one to get you for Valentine’s day. His basket already held a little red heart full of an assortment of chocolates — a gift that was simple enough to choose.
Alongside the box of candies, sat a little brown teddy bear. A bear he was immediately drawn to the moment his wide eyes landed on it, reminding him of the way you always call him various derivatives of the word teddy bear. Teddy, teddy bear, bear, and it’s final variation that both you and Kyle have decided is your favorite: ky bear. It disgusted anyone else who overheard the pet name uttered from your lips, but neither of you cared— it was a simple form of affection, an easy one, but meant the world to Kyle. Which was why it was so damn hard to find you flowers. Those special flowers that he needed to be perfect because, to put it simply, everything you did meant the world to him.
It didn’t help that this was his first time out in public, since he was reborn, alone. He’s known for a while he could do things on his own again, to be able to walk to the supermarket and shop for a few moments without having a breakdown. He had learned his body over again, and communication wasn’t that big of an issue anymore… He had finally started to feel like himself again. However, the stress was at an all time high now; overwhelmed with options, catching glimpses of people staring at him, gawking at his several scars and permanent deep red and purple marks that he hated so much. He just needed to pick an arrangement and get out of here, get home, get back into your arms before you noticed he was even gone, get—
“Hey,” a young woman dawned in a green apron drew Kyle out of his increasingly unbearable thoughts, “is there anything I could help you with?”
Embarrassment flooded through Kyle’s body and showed itself on his cheeks, feeling them burn bright under the fluorescent lights. He slowly turned to face the woman, significantly shorter than himself. He was silent for a moment, unsure if he wanted to admit that he needed help. He wanted to do this all on his own, to show you he was himself completely again. He gulped.
“Y-yeah,” he stammered, the nerves apparent in the single word, but the woman before him didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, “uhm, I— my p-partner, I— I would like to buy th-them some flowers, but I’m a bit ov— overwhelmed by all the options. Not— not sure which ones to buy.” He knows if you were here, you’d be so proud; sure, he stumbled a bit with his words, still figuring out this new body of his and how to communicate with it.
“Of course,” she looks up at Kyle with bright eyes, ones that have Kyle relaxing a bit— her patience meant so much to him, “what do they like? Favorite color.. maybe they’ve mentioned a favorite flower before?”
In all honesty, Kyle could close his eyes and grab whatever and you’d be so appreciative of it, but he didn’t want that. He wanted one that resembled your beauty, but none of them held a flame to it. “Uhm,” he started, raking the very depths of his mind to recall a time you’ve mentioned a favorite color or flower, but came up short. Guilt replaced the embarrassment just barely having settled in his body; how could he have known you for this long, but not remember your favorite color? Surely, you’ve mentioned it, and you, indeed, have… when you first started dating, several years before last year’s incident.
Just as he feels a twinge of a breakdown beginning, the young woman speaks up again, bringing Kyle back to Earth and away from his ever increasing guilt, “how about a picture of them, hm? Maybe we can start from there.”
Kyle could do that. With shaky, trembling hands, he dug into his coat pocket, grasping his phone and pulling it out. It automatically turned on, displaying a photo taken a few years before his accident— with you tucked under his arm as he smashed his lips against your temple, both smiling wide and clearly in heaps of love. The woman’s face softened as she looked at the image, then her eyes flickered back to Kyle’s face, taking in all the scars and marks and while her mind raced with possibilities of what could have happened to him, she didn’t say a word about it.
Instead, her smile widened and a sentence left her lips that had Kyle’s nerves cascading down his back, rolling off of his shoulders, “I think I saw the perfect bouquet in the back of the store’s vases. Wait here?”
Kyle simply nodded, staying where he stood for the past thirty-four minutes, watching as the blonde disappeared into one of the isles. He tucked his phone back into his pocket before turning back to the bouquets, looking for a back-up just in case the woman had no idea what she was talking about.
He didn’t even notice that he had been staring at the wall of flowers for another six minutes before the woman appeared back at his side, jumping in the slightest as she spoke, “would this work, sir?”
Kyle turned his attention back onto the woman, but it didn’t last long before his attention was taken up by the large bouquet in her arms. Almost twice as big as the arrangements on the wall, it was wrapped in a baby blue plastic wrap, light pink roses and with white gypsophila accompanying them, making the bouquet look fuller. He was stunned— this is exactly what he had been looking for.
“Y—,” his words got caught up in his throat with excitement, “yes, oh— oh, it’s perfect! Thank you.” He held the basket up, letting the woman delicately place the arrangement into the green plastic before she offered to ring him up at the flower stand. He agreed, entirely too giddy to shop any longer, ready to come home to give you the gifts he had bought.
While at home, you’re still fast asleep, tucked under the several blankets that adorned your shared bed. You only begin to stir when you hear the rustling of grocery bags and the front door shut, a soft groan leaving your throat as you sit up in bed, rubbing at your eyes to rid them of that sleepy haze.
“Ky?” you called out, voice soft, but he heard you, finally rejoining you in the room with the grocery bag full of gifts. Your eyes landed on his face then fell to the bag, those beautiful, giant flowers peeking out from the plastic. “Oh, you ordered stuff?” you asked, the possibility of him leaving the house on his own not even crossing your mind.
He simply shook his head, sitting on the bed beside you with a wide smile on his lips, showcasing his deep-set dimples. “I— I went to the sup—,” he paused as he opened the bag and began to take out the chocolates, “supermarket to get you a gift.”
With wide eyes, you questioned, “really? All by yourself?”
He then pulled out the teddy bear as he replied, confirming, “all by my— myself.” He set the little brown teddy in your lap beside the chocolates in your lap as you stared up at him in wonder. You were incredibly proud— you’ve thought about this all before, and honestly, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought that Kyle would be forever dependent on you. He spoke up once more, “now, this ted— teddy is yours, but it’s not re— replacing m— me, okay?”
You giggled, shaking your head as you whispered, “nothing could replace you, honey.” And then Kyle pulled out the bouquet, your eyes immediately pulled in by its beauty as he set it in your lap. It was stunning, and you were impressed that he picked out an arrangement that looked like it was made just for you. “Kyle,” you started, the name soft as it left your lips and the blonde simply shook his head.
“You can th— thank me with a kiss,” he teased and you didn’t hesitate to giggle, lean forward, and push your lips lightly onto his own, not minding the subtle chapped nature or the lingering morning breath. As you pulled back after the moment, eyes landing back down at your array of gifts, Kyle spoke once more, “hap— happy Valentine’s day, my lo— love.”
“Happy Valentine’s day, Ky.”
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