#I don’t know where the fuck Victor went
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Ocie: *goes home to cry to her partner and child*
Aax: *goes home to calm down with his partner and newly reunited father-figure*
Ulysses: “FUCK C’MON MAN EVEN MY CAT LEFT ME ALONE 😭”
#even when surrounded by those he considers friends Ulysses Themist will always be alone at his core#the last of his kind left to bear the totality of grief#I don’t know where the fuck Victor went#but he was not where I wanted him to be#fablesmp#fable smp#fablesmp ulysses
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hiiii okay so I had an idea for like Coryo x little sister where she’s about 12 years old and she looks just like her mom and Coryo, Tigris, and Grandma’am just love her so much BUT she somehow ends up in the hunger games s a tribute and she becomes like besties with Wovey, Reaper, and Lucy- plus she’s giving Coryo a heart attack every five minutes especially during the bombing- finally during his peacekeeper era when he finds out they were evicted she was taken from their custody and so when he comes back with the plinth fortune and all that she just runs up and is all cuddly with him and he’s like “u know what fuck custody paperwork” and just snatches her back home- thank u sooo much💗
SAFE AND SOUND
pairings: coriolanus snow x younger!sister!reader, lucy gray x younger!sister!reader
summary: somehow you’d ended up in the games, snow and lucy would do anything to keep you safe.
warnings: murderrr, possessive/selfish thoughts, child endangerment, cheating, rude ass corio, fluff in the end nd a little happy fam, deter from og storyline, protective lucy and snow, family dynamics, theyd do anything to make sure you’re okay
a/n: i did change the story line a little!!
the drones were whirring about you.
people were being knocked down as lucy grabbed you and ran to safety. “keep with me baby girl!” she shouted as you ran, your legs ached but you knew what would happen if you stopped.
coriolanus couldn’t breathe until you were safe. which is why he exhaled a long and heavy breath when you and lucy settled into the vent again. everyone around him was quiet for once, they laughed at all the tributes except you. they all loved you, every time coriolanus brought you around their horrible personalities and stuck up selves melted away with your adoring smile and sweet voice.
reprieve, or so you thought, came in the form of the large tube in front of you. but based off of lucy’s face you knew something was up, and as wovey walked towards it you couldn’t help but shout and cry for her.
“down goes wovey!” thank god. coriolanus thought. that idiotic girl was impulsive and silly, she shouldn’t have lasted as long as she did. she almost killed you with her stupidity, brung you along to her execution as you cried for her to stop.
you’d survived. somehow.
in the history of the games there had only been two victors. so far.
but at what cost? your brother had been sentenced away to district 12 and the only other person who shared any understanding for what you went through was no where to be found. in the wind, gone.
so you did what you thought best.
you ran.
all the way to twelve and the comfort of your dear older brother.
he was going insane. he’d lost you and lucy. sejanus was god knows where and probably planning something illegal. he was stressed the fuck out and all he wanted was a hug from you. for you to put secret braids in his hair when you thought he was sleeping, for you to kiss his cheek every morning before rambling on about school.
the place was alive as she sang. everyone danced but coriolanus stared. he’d found one half of the puzzle. lucy looked amazing and he found himself relaxing at the sound of her voice.
you’d peeked through the window. the noise had drawn you to it. it was your first day alone, ever, and in the worst district. you were scared beyond measure but soon to be saved as you caught a glimpse of lucy twirling on stage, her eye-line drawing you to corio.
the hug from behind caught him off guard but had his mind spinning as he recognised the small hands gripping oh so tightly at his waist. the bracelet he’d made so long ago and the smell of roses, which for once wasn’t himself, and hadn’t been for a while.
“y/n.” he breathed out as you laced your arms around his neck, “i came from the capitol. i hate it corio. they took me away from our family and put me with some random family. i don’t like it, i miss you. please, don’t take me back.” you cried as he lifted you up, resting on his hip as he made his way outside, lucy following in tow as she wiped away tears after seeing your sweet face.
the lake was quiet and tame, slow waves lapping at the jetty and land as you lay curled up in corio’s lap, lulled to sleep by lucy’s melodies. and whilst the trio of you all had no idea what the future held it all didn’t matter in this moment. you felt happy, and you hadn’t felt it in so long. corio and lucy were your family, and you loved them.
corio had done horrible things in his life, the second you were drawn into the games nothing else mattered besides keeping you safe. those horrible things were known to few, one of them being the songbird to your left.
and no would ever tell you these things.
all that mattered?
you were safe and sound with them, they’d made sure of it.
#coriolanus snow x fem!reader#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x reader#lucy gray baird#lucy gray x reader#hunger games x reader
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Chrollo tells you a story from his childhood centered around bread.
(Warnings for religious mentions and canon typical depictions of his hometown, Meteor City)
“Hm… how uncanny is that.”
Knowing that he’ll continue speaking cryptic phrases until you express an interest you most certainly don’t have, you sigh, and rest your cheek on your fist.
“What’s uncanny?”
Please don’t mean the bread, please don’t mean the bread, please don’t mean the bread—
“This bread loaf,” he inclines his head toward it, as if you couldn’t spot the table’s lone occupant, “It’s bringing up some memories.”
He’s really going to talk to you about bread. Fuck.
“Meteor City, destitute as it is, was an attractive prospect for missionaries. My friends cared little for the religious doctrine they’d expound, but I always found the teachings fascinating. It wasn’t uncommon to go days without eating, so they’d come along with me on the sole condition that food was being provided. The priest, knowing this, had me relay the message that at his next teaching, there’d be fresh bread. Children overflowed from the tent that normally only I would occupy. He preached his sermon.”
There’s a nostalgic air to him as he continues. “By the end, he presented us with a challenge: whoever capable of best verbally expressing their devotion to God could have the bread. Each child present wanted to be the victor. There was a great deal of murmuring and thinking. He had us form a line, where one by one, we’d give what we hoped to be the winning response. My friend Phinks was first. ‘If I’d been there, I’da stomped the shit out of that snake,’ is what he went with. As you can imagine, the priest kept going down the line.
Eventually, he got to me. I’d been closely monitoring his body language and facial expressions. From what I could tell, no answer so far had even come close. I decided to take a different approach. From his theology, I could tell he was of the Roman Catholic persuasion. And so I suggested that to best prove our love, we should have mass. I thought that by focusing on the collective rather than oneself, I’d meet his unspoken criteria. He intended to keep the results to himself until everyone had spoken their piece, but no sooner as the words left my mouth did I know that wasn’t the answer he was looking for.
After everyone had their turn, he brought the bread out for all to see. While we were all excitedly wondering who the lucky individual would be, he raised his voice and began admonishing us. He quoted Matthew, ‘It is written: Man must not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God’. With that, he left us there, so that we could ‘think about what we’ve learned’.”
Your jaw practically hits the floor.
“I intended to counter his points later that night to see if I could win the community the bread they were promised. While I was preparing, a few children happened by, eating the bread that was pulled from under our noses. I asked where they got it from — they said Uvogin. Apparently, he learned what had happened and was incensed. I went to go see him so I could ask how he convinced the priest to give him the bread. I didn’t find Uvo at the place he normally hung out at, but I did see the priest.
He was… shall we say, arranged in a way that’s strenuous on the body. All the while he kept chanting, ‘Pater, aphes autois, ou gar oidasin ti poiousin’, though he lay dying. It left a strong impression on me. Especially because his pronunciation was slightly off… but more than that, I thought it interesting he held firm to the belief which landed him in this position. A belief he didn’t even understand properly. He passed with a content expression. He must’ve fancied himself a martyr. It later became a popular joke that in the end, he did prove that you can’t live on bread alone, since it didn’t seem to do him much good.”
“How… how old were you?”
“Seven or eight, I believe.”
You get up from the table. You can feel his eyes following your every movement, from the suite’s dining room to the living space it's connected to. The suitcase you’ve yet to unpack sits patiently as you rummage through its contents. Grabbing what you need, you return to the table, where Chrollo regards you with a curious countenance.
Your antidepressants rattle inside a small orange container as you put it before him. How he gets the medication, you haven’t the slightest clue. It’s more convenient to receive them from your enigmatic kidnapper than an uninsured trip to the psychiatrist. He’s got one thing going in his favor, at least.
“Do you already need a refill?”
You shake your head.
“Just… after hearing that story… I think you might want to consider getting some of these for yourself. High dose.”
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PITY PARTY !
‟ and he loved her like he loved no one,
the way she’d laugh and hold a smoking gun. „
pairing;finnick x victor!f!reader
summary;finnick odair is a man of many fortunes, all he wish he didn’t posses- red, hot, and irate he lets it fool you.
contains; ANGST, self destructive-finnick&reader, insinuations of infidelity, acts of non-con, arguments, TW descriptive forced prostitution.
☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩
it was your victory party, supposed to to be the happiest night since your games.
it was only the most stressful, the most draining. you hair was pulled up almost too tight you gained a headache, dress to tight you could suffocate. champagne flute after champagne flute, finnick had slid away from you- told you he’d be back nearly an hour ago.
you were struggling to stand, your arms were crossed over your indecent frame- chilly, without finnicks presence. without your finnick.
you went up to a familiar face, he was near your age- you think he’s friends with finnick? but how do you know what’s real in the capitol?
“have you seen where finnick went?” your head tilts to the side slightly, and by the way his breathy laugh reached your nostrils and the alcoholic scent burned your senses, you can tell he’s probably drunker than you.
the man has to steady himself from laughing so hard, you were almost concerned at his inebriated he was. “oh you sweet naive victor, he has quite the track record. where would a boy like yours possibly be at a party like this- i mean he’s not much of a boy after all he’s done.”
you’d zoned out halfway into his sentence, was finnick known for getting too tipsy? was there something you didn’t know? was the man you were speaking too so drunk he had lost his mind?
you began to slowly slip away from the man, slipping past people, looking for that soft, gentle, sweet face.
the air was getting too thick, your breath began to quicken, everything was moving in slow. your mind was begging for someone to find help for you, to find finnick.
you find your stylist, he was nice- you think. he’d done you a great fault with the comfortability of your get-up, but otherwise you’d trusted him.
“y/n!” he smiles, ecstatic to see you but a hint of concern in his features and he takes your glass of booze, placing it down on the table. his concern seemed too strong to be just for your alcohol consumption, like there was something else. something you didn’t know, or couldn’t know. “how are you?”
what the fuck?
“where’s finnick.” you’re feet hurt, your heads throbbing, your body is buzzing and you are so sick of not being apart of whatever’s going on.
now your stylist looks pitifully towards you, “oh honey, room five.”
your shoulders slump. was he okay? had he gotten a panick attack? you rush towards to intimate rooms, you weren’t sure if you could count to the number five right now but your mind assumed he’d be in the only closed room.
your worry is sickening, the chill in this mansion is sickening, the confusion of it all is purely- sickening. your hand twists the knob open, ready to see his tears in the dark- but you don’t see his eyes at all.
“yes! i love that finnick. i love you!” she’s under him, her skirt is pushed up- his eyes are screwed shut- his beautiful eyes are screwed shut.
who is this woman? her hair is curly, long, blonde, she seems tall but you can’t see much of her, she seems older. this seems wrong- almost. why is she saying she loves him? who is this woman, lying?
you don’t know how long it takes you to perceive it all, but she looks up and notices you- shrieking in exposé.
you just barely see his head shoot up, before you’ve closed the door. your back flies to the wall opposite of the door, you hear shuffling. you hear her asking him where he’s going.
you can’t breath.
it’s like you’ve taken a shot to the heart, and you’re bleeding out. your body can’t move, you want to run. you don’t want to know, you’re sure of it.
you’re not even sure you want to hear him speak, not for a long time. not until your world stops spinning.
you’ve just started to move, you’ve just started to escape. when the door flies open, your name is being called- no shouted.
but finnicks legs move faster than yours, longer, with flat shoes and hefty strides he’s grabbed your wrist in seconds and he’s spinning you around to face him.
you want to scream, no more, please. but your words are stolen from you, his face looks like he’s just walked in on the same thing you did.
he looks like he wants to speak, to say something. he looks into the corner of the hallway, at the light fixtures, the cameras, and the words are lost on his tongue.
it has felt like ever since finnick had won his games, there was a part of his soul you would never understand, and you thought that you would- and if you told him this, he would probably tell you it’s too early for you to know just yet.
his eyes fall back onto yours, and his eyes are frantic- switching back and forth between each eye. again, you’re missing something, there’s something you’re not picking up, and as much as you want to scream and run away from him- to cry- you stay.
“what the fuck is happening.” you’re trying to sober-up now, your hand finds your hair. and you’re taking steps away from him, your eyes are wide.
he hasn’t moved a muscle, finnick thinks the odds have never been worse for him. does he break you or does he seal your fate with a scarlet letter?
“what the fuck is happening!” you repeat, turning around to face him now, he looks back to the camera, and back to you. and you aren’t in the right state for this. “finnick!” you place your hands on either side of his face, you’re trying to tiptoe around this.
he takes an inhale, trying to find solace in your sweet smell- but all that fills his senses is the alcohol hot and heavy on your tongue. “your drunk, y/n.”
your hands fall from his face, this is cruel, the present is too cruel. and at that moment he’s chosen your fate, you break.
a cry leaves your mouth, your hand going over it, shaking. he feels sick now, his pupils are blown and he’s shaking, he swears his own heart has stopped.
you’re sobbing, and it’s because of him. finnick odair was a selfish monster. finnick odair was a liar, a tyrant. but he was your boy, the same man who spun you around when you wore long skirts just to hear the giggle leave your lips. the same man who didn’t sleep for days when you were reaped- moreso until you came out of that arena. the same man who gave everything he had just so you’d gain sponsors.
and you thought you could be that same girl for him, the same girl who held him when he cried the night before you left for the arena, unable to hold his composure for you any longer.
and now, you’re tears couldn’t stop, and his couldn’t either. you were too stunned to move, and he couldn’t stop muttering words that made no sense.
“lets just go home, please.” he pleads, he would get on his hands and knees. he’d die for you to stop feeling like this, he’d soak it all up just so you would stop.
“how many women?” you remember his own friends words, he has quite the track record- not much of a boy after all he’s done.
and his eyes screw shut once more, a look he often wears when he wants something to be over with, and quick. and you can recognize that from the scene that will forever be etched into your mind.
and he sees you, piece it together in your mind- he sees it all line up for you. he sees the red hot fury behind your lashes, he then sees it turn into an unwary look.
“who’s making you do this?”
he shakes his head, his hand running over his wet face. “stop, now.” there are ears everywhere, even when you’re the loneliest in panem, you are never the only person there.
and his heart races at the thought of how your concern for the good in him will push to your demise, how if you say the words you were never supposed to know, he may never see you again.
and when you go to speak, he slaps a hand over your mouth, he’s rough, he’s not himself. he turns you around- pushing you away from him as he rushes out the emergency exit.
you chase after him, and somehow he’s still faster than you. there’s fresh tears in his cheeks it the cold air, he thinks they’ll freeze. you’re screaming after him, he thinks it’s nothing more than a bad dream.
he wished he wasn’t there, like he was in the backseat as his body moved farther and farther away from you. a second hand perspective on himself and he didn’t know who he was.
and once more, finnick odair was a plague. a wrath awakening in every bridge he burned.
-
masterlist
inbox open! taking reqs!
#finnick odair#finnick angst#finnick fanfic#finnick fluff#finnick imagine#finnick odair fluff#finnick odair smut#finnick odair x reader#finnick oneshot#finnick smut#finnick#thg finnick#hunger games finnick#finnick x reader#finnick x oc#finnick x you#finnick x y/n#finnick odair x you#finnick odair is papa
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Can you do Gotham!Victor Zsasz x reader where he gets jealous? And maybe it leads to smutty angry sex ;-)
‘YOU’RE MINE,
-GOTHAM!VICTOR ZSASZ X READER-
⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; you’re his girl, only his.
⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!victor zsasz x female reader. obsessive and possessive behavior. victors dry humor (sort of?) persevering through his jealousy. SMUT !!!!!! like, i went heavy with this one guys. SADOMASOCHISTIC SEX! victor marks reader. also, drama queen victor.
♫ “whistling like a bullet in the sky / you don’t talk to no one, don’t you look at nothing / no ones gonna use you up and break you the way that I do.” You’re Mine by Phantogram
He typically doesn’t get like this. No, he trusts you. And even if he didn’t- he stalks you every damn day. Has your phone password. Crashes your apartment and searches your drawers. And when he’s not keeping an eye out for you- one of the zsaszettes is. Y’know, just in case, he always adds- whenever you come home to him fiddling around your apartment or browsing your phone.
In reality, because he keeps tabs on you is WHY he trusts you. And so far, nothing has been out of the ordinary. You’ve been his loyal soldier- his girl.
Well, until percisley 10 seconds ago. He was doing his daily…night watch? Lurking on top of buildings, with a loaded sniper, the stake-out usual, watching you converse with work friends. Just like you said you’d be. Normal tuesday.
He just has to be clear. It’s his motto, yeah? And thankfully, it came in clutch for him tonight. He’s reminded of why he does this so frequently when he spots you out in the parking lot of your work, when a man comes behind you.
He zones in through the scope of the sniper, immeadiatley aiming it at this guys head. He’s about to shoot this creep, until you laugh.
Why the hell are you laughing? (Victor thinks only he should be the funniest person you know.)
He’s watching carefully through the scope, vein popping through his forehead. All he can do is clench his jaw.
He notices everything. The way the man gestures towards you, the way you two converse like two old pals. It gets a bit too much for victor when the man gently grabs your shoulder while the two of you laugh.
Immeadiatley, you hear the sound of boots on gravel, and turn around to see Victor. You and said work friend damn near scream.
Your male friend is looking on in horror, it’s VICTOR FUCKING ZSASZ.
You on the other hand, after the inital shock wears off, give a polite smile to victor.
“Oh- hey.” You chime, but stop in your tracks when you read his expression. No smile. And his gloved hand is gripped tight around a handgun in it’s holster- itching to be set free. You swallow.
“Out.” Is all he says to your friend- and he looks at Victor incredously. You feel yourself start to sweat.
Victor looks at the man, eye practically twitching. The man stays frozen in shock.
“PLEASE?” Victor suddenly harshly calls- rolling his neck and cocking his head. His eyes are opened fully, and you feel fear bubbling up in you.
You’re friend instantly runs off, and you visibly see victor’s hand around his gun relax. He turns to you, taking a deep breath.
In a strange fashion, he offers you his arm like a gentleman, and doesn’t say another word the rest of the walk home. You don’t find out the reason for his anger until much, much later…
The moment you two came home, you assumed he’d want a bite to eat, talk about what was bothering him. But apperently not. The second the door closed, he was pushing everything on your counter top down to the floor with a loud slam, man-handling you, pushing you on top, and kissing you until you had to force him away for air.
He’s deadly silent, not explaining himself. You want to ask why- but the moment he pulls away from your lips, he shoves two of his fingers in your mouth- making you suck on the flesh. You gag as he forces them deeper and deeper, tasting the rubber of his gloves. He doesn’t stop until his fingers are soaked in your spit, and shoves them into your cunt.
You’re practically mewling around his fingers, taken aback.
And now… you’re here. Your face is buried into the pillows, ass-up. You’re soaking wet, working toward your fifth orgasm. The previous four had all just been from his trigger finger fucking you out until all you could do was scream his name. Tally marks have been all but littered into you’re thighs and chest and back- bloody and raw from his blade. Typically he’d only make one cut each time he claimed you like this- but appearently it’s not enough. People need to know who you love.
No, now his cock is buried deep inside you. Messily sliding in and out of your swollen pussy, generously giving you every inch to clench around. You need to know who owns you. That you two own each other.
He replays the image of your work friend staring at him in surprise. Victor’s practically tweaking out…why haven’t you told anyone that you two are together? God, he’d fuck you in front of the whole GCPD if he could. And here you are, keeping him like a dirty little secret.
“No one’s gonna love you,” He growls out, punctuating each sentence with a thrust. It’s the first thing he’s said all night.
“No one’s gonna touch you,” Between your moaning and his groans, it’s almost inaudible.
“No one’s gonna look at you the way that I do.” Thrust after thrust he emphasizes his point, fingers tracing over the tally marks on your back to make you moan in pain. He needs to consume all of you.
You’re gasping, whining for him to slow down- and he only goes harder. Sex without pain for Victor is like food without taste. Every part of you aches, and every part of you feels fucking euphoric. You know the marks will scar in the morning, no matter how delicately placed. You assume that’s his goal.
You two cum together in an instant- fast and unprecedented. The sudden shockwave takes you both by surprise, feeling your pussy squeeze against his dick makes him finish inside you- and you feel the ropes of his cum flood into you. He fucks you through your orgasm, movements not stopping until he’s sure he’s satisfied every single spasm within you, and you’ve milked him for all hes worth.
“There you go, sweetness,” He groans gently, hands weakly pulling your hips to his. He slows to a stop, but doesn’t pull out.
Between the numerous light cuts littering your body and bruises from how tight he was gripping your thighs, you don’t even have the energy to scold him. No, you collapse into the mattress, letting him shift down next to you, his cock still inside.
Oh, he intends to sleep like this, you warming his cock. He grabs you to his chest, not letting you go. You feel the marks on you back sting as he shuffles behind you.
You’re too fucked out to say a word, and he simply gently kisses your knuckles. Man of few words.
You think he’ll be gone in the morning. But no.
He intends to stay until you and your body can’t remember the feeling of anything or anyone else.
#x reader#gotham#gotham x reader#batman#batman rogues#batman x reader#gotham villains x reader#batman rouges gallery#dc comics#gotham imagines#gotham villains smut#gotham villains#victor zsasz x reader smut#gotham victor zsasz#victor zsasz headcanons#victor zsasz gotham#victor zsasz x reader#victor zsasz
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could i request some post quidditch match win content w james pls?
of course, love🖤
.
James Potter loved winning.
He loved the thrill as the final horn blared through the arena. He loved the weight of his teammates jumping on top of him as they celebrated. He loved the way the students, teachers and parents chanted his name.
His ego basked in the victory, soaked it all in and let it just overwhelm him completely.
But most of all, James loved seeing you after he won.
By the time he made it to the common room, the adrenaline had finally simmered down and his limbs felt heavy as he dragged himself through the door. But it didn’t matter that he knew his body would be sore the next morning or that he was probably minutes away from passing out, because he had yet to see you and that’s all he wanted.
The common room was full of students still on a high after the win, slapping his back and cheering him on as he walked towards the staircase that led up to the dorms. He knew exactly where you would be and his body was buzzing to find you.
He shoved the door of his dorm room open with his shoulder and a heavy sight and almost instantly a smile grew on his face as he took in the sight of you lying on his bed, glad in one of his jerseys with a book in your hand.
You lifted your head up and grinned. “There’s my champion.”
“Fuck, call me that again,” he muttered as he dumped his bag on the floor as gracefully as he could before all but falling onto the bed, head laying on your stomach with his body stretched over yours like a starfish.
“Replacing the captain kink already?” you teased.
“Hm, no,” his words were muffled slightly by his position. “We are keeping the captain thing, baby.”
You snorted, your fingers brushing through his curls that were still slightly wet from his shower after the match. “Noted,” you said with a small sigh. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come tonight. Sounded like a good game.”
“You’re sick, love, I wasn’t gonna let my girl stand in the cold for hours,” he grumbled and lifted his head, eyes softening as he took in the sight of you. “How are you feeling?”
“Better now that I know my boy won,” you answered with a grin, watching as James’ cheeks went pink with the praise. “Aww, my pretty boy.”
“Shut up,” he murmured as he tried to slap your hands away, only to really sink into your touch as you cupped his cheek. “Next game you’re gonna be there. And when I win, I’m gonna swoop you from the stands and kiss you in front of everyone.”
Your eyes narrowed slightly. “You wouldn’t dare to, Potter.”
His grin was boyish. “You should know better than anyone else that I would never back down from a dare.”
You rolled your eyes. “You are unbelievable.”
“And you love me still,” James grinned widely before settling his head back on your stomach. “Now shh, I want my victor’s cuddles.”
“Only cuddles? Well, there goes my surprise,” you said with a theatrical sigh, holding back your giggles when James’ head snapped up.
“What surprise?”
“No, no, you’re tired, baby,” you cooed softly as you bit back your grin. “I’ll just save it for next time.”
“Love, don’t do this to me,” James groaned, fingers fiddling with the hem of his jersey you were wearing and when he noticed your breath hitch, he raised his brows a little. Keeping his eyes on your expression, he dipped his hands underneath the jersey and slowly slid his hands up your thighs, only to freeze when he felt his fingers meet lacey material. “Fuck.”
“Wanted to give you something for your win,,” you murmured with a shy smile, watching the way his eyes darkened. “A reward...”
“You have ten seconds to get this jersey off before I rip it off.”
“Yes, captain.”
.
#james potter#marauders#harry potter#hp#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter one shot#james potter fic#marauders x reader#marauders x you#marauders x y/n#marauders one shot#marauders fic#harry potter x reader#harry potter x you#harry potter x y/n#harry potter one shot#harry potter fic#hp x reader#hp x you#hp x y/n#hp one shot#hp fic
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Darling, You’re The Luckiest Person In The Room
Summary: You and Johanna watch the announcement for the 75th Hunger Games
An: This was a Request, but it got deleted so i had to rewrite it
Warnings: Yandere!Johanna, reader has been kidnapped by Johanna, physical anger, emotional abuse, Alcohol drinking, fem!reader
Johanna had been antsy for the past week. She wasn’t an overly relaxed person as it was, but when it got close to the Games she got worse; and the Quarter Quell wasn’t helping. She was barely sleeping, Coming to bed late at night and being long gone when you woke up. When she left the house it was for short periods, and when she was home she was short with You. Given That She was the only person you saw, it got boring quick.
“It’s starting.” You called out from Where You were sitting on the couch. The broadcast showed Snow, already giving his bullshit speech on the Quarter Quell, how It’s a reminder of the rebellion and how the capital is strong and all of the other bullshit with it.
“Why should I care?” She had a cup of whiskey when she walked in, and despite her comment she sat down next to you. Normally, she would pull You to her side, keeping an arm tightly wrapped around you. But she didn’t today. Instead she left a few inches of space between you both.
“…and so, for this years Quarter Quell the tributes will be reaped from tue existing pool of victors for each district.”
Your eyes went wide at his words and Johanna’s body tensed. That couldn’t possibly be What He meant. The couch shifted lightly as she sat up next to you.
“Johanna-“ your words were cut off by the slight scream You let out when she threw her cup across the room.
“Mother fuckers!” She screamed while standing up. “How fucking dare They!” You just watched as she yelled, stomping around the room. She picked up a vase and threw it, making it shatter on impact.
“I win the game,” a vase is smashed. “I’m told they’ll leave me alone,” a chair is tipped over. “And They do something like this!” You jumped to your feet when she smashed a mirror.
“Johanna!” She finally stoped her pacing to Look at You. “Just…Take a breath-“
“I swear to god y/n, if you tell me to calm down I will break your fucking neck.” You fully believe her threat, immediately closing Your mouth.
She paced for another few minutes, mumbling to herself angrily. You were too afraid to move, not wanting her anger to be directed at you.
“Do you know how lucky you are?” She had walked towards you, looking stray at you.
“Lucky?”
“Ya, Lucky. I risk My Damn life to keep You Here-“
“I Never asked you too.” You pointed out to her. Her Hand shot up to grip your chin in her hand. Her nails dug into your face lightly, making you let out a small yelp.
“If i didnt, Snow would have killed you. I give you the best food from the capital, You don’t Ive to work, You live in fucking luxury! So ya, you are lucky.” As she talked, a bit of spit Shot into your face causing you to flinch. Her eyes were Nothing But anger, And for a Moment you wondered if you’d finally pushed her to far. But she just pushed you away lightly.
“And remember, if they choose me, who’s going to come back here for you?”
—————
Your eyes were glued to the monitor in front of you. Johanna had left earlier that morning, leaving you completely alone in the house. The first tributes were being picked, and it had finally gotten to distract 7.
“For the women…Johanna Mason!”
“No…” A single tear ran down your cheek as You Tried to proses The information. There We’re other victors, What We’re the chances She would Be chosen?
“No,” you mumbled agin, This time standing up. You ran to the front door, trying to pull it Open. It was locked.
The back door? Locked.
The windows? Every single one locked and covered.
Everyone knew what happened after being chosen. A short goodbye to any family, and immediately boarding the train. Johanna would be gone, and no one would knew you were here. The odds were not in her favor, and apparently they hated You Even more. She was going to die in the Games, And You would die alone im the damed House.
You spent the rest of the day going through the house, seeing what you could find. Johanna must have woken up early and restocked food for you. There weren’t any weapons in the building that could help you, nothing to get you out of the house. Did she really think you’d survive being locked in the house like This?
You grabbed a bottle of alcohol and started towards the living room when something banged on the front door. You froze, unsure of what to do. You couldn’t actually Open the door, so If They wanted in they’d have to break tue door down. But That was the next question, who was it? No one came near the Victor houses, and all the other victors were on their way to the capital.
You started to open your mouth, but quickly shut it. What would you say? You didn’t have long to think of an answer because there was a large crash sound from the door, and the door practically collapsed. You jumped back when 5 peacemakers stormed their way in.
“What’s happening?!” They didn’t answer you, but two of them went to your sides and they each yanked an arm back to lock together.
“Are You y/n y/l/n?” You nodded at the one who spoke, and he smirked lightly. “Well, congratulations. You Get to See What the capital looks like.” He motioned for the men to leave, and they dragged you along with them. From one captor to another.
#hunger games x reader#hunger games#johanna mason x reader#johanna mason#yandere!johanna mason#yandere#request
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☼ safer with you (Finnick Odair) ☼
summary; he wouldn't tell you why he couldn't let you be in the alliance, but you know you're safer with him. that's why you won't leave.
warnings; swearing, weapon mention.
wc; 1.8k
prompt: 36. “You could put a knife to my throat and I wouldn’t flinch.”
–
It is a fucking nightmare in here.
The heat alone is a killer, you’ve never experienced weather this bad in your Games or District Two, and both have a tendency to be consistently over a hundred degrees. You went two and a half days without water in your Games, sweating out every ounce that you’d stored prior to launch. That dry heat doesn’t compare to this.
It wouldn’t be so bad, if they hadn’t started you off by swimming. You think you’d rather start dry and slowly find out that your body is covered in sweat. The way the wetsuit is suctioned to your body right now is a whole new level of irritating. It’s a second skin that you don’t dare to escape because it’s your only protection.
The next problem is the arena that you’ve been given, it’s a literal jungle. It's green, and humid, and impossible to navigate. You swear you’d be walking in circles if it weren’t for the fact that it’s all one steep incline. It’s dense because of the amount of trees, which offer little to no shade as you travel. Every couple of steps you manage to snag your foot into another root.
The further you travel, the more the suspicious feeling that there’s no drinkable water, rises. There should be a stream, or a small puddle, and you haven’t come across anything yet. You keep thinking that there has to be something because of how bad the humidity is, but the lake at the center of the arena provides plenty of water to explain how wet the air is. You’re all insects trapped inside of a terrarium.
It gets worse when you remember every few minutes that you should be paranoid instead of relaxed because you do not, in fact, have any allies. A hard but necessary decision you made.
You knew that when you got reaped things were not going to be easy from that moment forward. There were no volunteers, despite many girls from Two saying that they wanted to be a part of this fight. There weren’t tears before you got onto the train, either.
It’s not like the other victors hate you, that’s not why they held back. It’s because they recognized the danger that they’d be putting themselves in if they tried going back into an arena, especially when the stakes are so high. Which is a first for the girls, because you’re all catty, competitive, half the time you don’t get along, and it’s always titles over seniority.
The only reason why you had a little bit of respect with them was because each one of them knew you should’ve died in your arena. There was no water and there was no shelter besides the cornucopia, which you chose to abandon four days in. You are the reason why they have to put water sources inside of the arena now.
This year, it was the boys that couldn’t stop moving, anticipating the second they either got drawn or given the opportunity to volunteer. When you saw that Brutus won the race, you didn’t know whether to be grateful or terrified, because he’s never really bothered to hide his dislike toward you, but he’s going to be the biggest tribute in the arena, and he could be on your side.
The news just kept getting worse when you saw who exactly got reaped alongside District Two. You like Cashmere and Gloss, too much to kill them. And you have a lot of respect for the older victors from the other Districts, because they were the ones that helped you when it was your turn to mentor—not your fellow victors.
The final blow was seeing that Finnick and Mags were going to be the tributes from Four, as if things couldn’t get any worse. Let’s throw your ex-boyfriend and his grandmother into the mix to see where you end up. It didn’t help that the last time you talked to Finnick was the year prior, after you got into an argument for trying to help him with his tributes.
You were almost afraid of what he thought of you, until he talked to you right before the tribute para, musing how unfortunate it was for the both of you to get drawn like that. You had a little hope that things might be okay, and you had a chance, because it would be so easy to pull all the careers into a big group, dominate the arena, and then turn on one another.
Finnick wouldn’t bite.
And he continued to refuse every time you suggested an alliance. You thought that it had to be because of the others, sometimes he could be weird about being around them. Even with them out of the question, he wouldn’t agree to an alliance with just you.
The night of the interviews, before you got on stage, he pulled you aside and told you that he meant every word. He was not going to be in an alliance with you, no matter how many times you asked. He had his mind made up.
It was a first for you to see him so anti-career pack. Especially when he’s the one that’s always struggling to get his tributes involved, like last year. Half the time you’re convinced that they’re going to score low, and your tributes will push them out. Until they manage to score decent enough to waver the doubt.
You would let it go, but you can’t, not with him.
You know the careers, and you know enough not to stay with them. If they’re in it to win, then you’re a target, a big one. If they know what’s best for them, they’ll try and kill you first the second they get the chance. You can’t trust them to have your back if shit gets sticky.
Finnick would.
Out of all the people in this arena, the only person that you want to be with is him. Even after all these years, all the names he’s called you, all the arguments that you’ve had. You know you can trust him to keep you alive. You want him, even if he doesn’t want you.
Yesterday, you had a hard time finding out where he went off to with Mags. You were focused on getting in and out of the cornucopia, figuring that the jungle wouldn’t nearly be this bad. If you had known, you would’ve gotten the general direction they ran in before fighting for your life.
It took hours, but you’ve finally come across a path that you’ve been following. The problem is that you can’t see anyone ahead, which means these tracks could be from anyone, at any time of the day. You study them as you go, and notice that there’s three pairs of feet.
One of them is heavy footed, like they don’t care about leaving prints in the dirt, the second one is much lighter, you can barely make outlines of their feet, and the third looks almost identical to how you walk.
Three people is too many for just Finnick and Mags, obviously. That’s why you think that the first pair belongs to Johanna, the second to Mags, and the third to Finnick.
You could be wrong, and there’s a good chance that you are. All you know for sure is that they don’t belong to your career friend. The last time you saw them was across the lake. You have to be very careful about keeping an eye on them. They have a tendency to get obsessive when it comes to hunting down people.
You didn’t sleep last night.
You stop to yawn, rubbing down your face. At the rate you’re going, you need water, and possibly food. If you can’t find a water source, then you need to switch game plans. You are far too smart to start drinking salt water, and if your mentors want to prevent you from what you did last time you found yourself in this position, they’ll send you water. They’ll just wait until the last minute.
You suck in a breath to hold for a moment while you think, when you hear the rustle of leaves. To your right, behind you. Your eyes snap open, whipping around to face whatever it is, sword prepared in your hand.
It falls.
“Finnick.” You breathe, a rush going through you, “Finally, I thought—”
Finnick looks behind him, and then back at you. He starts coming down the hill, trident gripped tightly in his hand, lips pressed into a thin line. There’s a hard look on his face, he’s not happy. If you had to guess, you’re the cause of this.
“(Y/n).” There’s an edge to his voice. “What did I tell you?”
You avert your eyes, not ready for his steely eyes, because he gets intense when he’s angry. If you’re going to keep your composure, then you can’t look him in the eye.
“I know, okay, I just—I can’t do this alone.” You shake your head. “If I go with them, I’m going to die. You’re the only person—”
“You can not be with me.” He emphasizes each word, “You need to go.”
“Finnick, I know.” You say, watching the way he adjusts his hand on his trident. He’s tense, does he think you’re a threat? “But I need someone, and you’re the only person I trust, okay? I feel safer with you.”
“No, (Y/n), you don’t know.” He tells you, “Will you look at me?”
You grit your teeth when you do, and watch as his face relaxes.
“If you don’t stop, I’ll have to kill you. Do you hear me?” He raises his eyebrows. “Go.”
“You could put a knife to my throat and I wouldn’t flinch.” You say, he closes his eyes, letting out a sigh. You take a step forward, “What makes you think an empty threat like that will turn me away?”
“It has to!” He shouts, “You—”
“Is it Johanna? She doesn’t like me very much, but I don’t have to be speaking—”
“What?” He asks.
“If I’m out here alone then I have no one to help me. I have no one to watch while I sleep. If they find me out here, I’m as good as dead.” You reach for him, he takes a step back while shaking his head.
“We’re not doing this.”
“Please?” You cry, “Finnick, I’m asking you to—”
“This is not a matter of me not feeling like I’m good enough, (Y/n).” He snaps, you close your mouth. “The alliance I have is fragile, and there’s no room in it for you. Go.”
Your face twists, eyes becoming heavy. You struggle to take in air, because your throat is constricting. You try hard to keep the frown from settling in your mouth, tired of letting him see you cry. He doesn’t care—he’s not even trying! He could at least…
“(Y/n), don’t do this.” His voice is softer, “Don’t.”
“I’m not.” You swallow the growing thickness, “Goodbye, Finnick.”
#ilguna#finnick odair#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x yn#finnick odair x y/n#finnick imagine#finnick fanfic#finnick x reader#finnick oneshot#finnick x yn#finnick x you#finnick x y/n#thg#the hunger games#fluff#birthday blurbs
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Generation Kill Research Results
We all know that there's really specific stuff in GK that only those who were there would know, much of which we get in the books Generation Kill (Evan Wright) and One Bullet Away (Nate Fick).
I needed some more intel for my fics, so I went hunting for all the things RL Ray said about GK relevant topics on reddit. The result is a list of all his comments, from radio frequencies to how exactly he got burnt by Rudy's stove to the MRE components and the truth about the Zeus attack and what colour the PT shorts of Recon guys were.
The list has been vetted by @bookishdea to make sure that there's no personal info about the RL guys in there.
It's sorted by topic: weapons/equipment, radios/comms, beanies/uniforms, officers in Recon, Humvees, MREs, Humvee arrangement/Reporter, Zeus attack, explosion of Rudy's stove, Captain America's name, invasion, Recon training/conditions of OIF, Ripped Fuel, First Recon, Afghanistan/Ray's Marine Corps career, characters/people career background, paddles, GK production, float tapes.
I hope you find interesting stuff in there. I originally made it for myself, but since the effort went in already anyway, I figured I could share it with those who don't want to risk coming across RL Marines infos, but who might still profit from the GK-specific infos.
- all intel are responses of RL Ray (plasmata) on reddit in various subreddits, collected 23. Nov. 2023
- Q = question asked on reddit, A = Ray's answer. There's not always a question supplied, just where it's necessary to understand his answer
weapons/equipment
- At the time most of the Marine Corps was still using the M16s and M249 (SAW). Recon units were one of the first ones to get M4's and Para-SAWs (carbine versions of the M249). So, folks like officers and regular support folks were still carrying their standard M16, while 0321 Recon Marines were carrying M4s.
- Q: I was rewatching GK (again) and I think it was episode 2 when Rudy and Pappy took out the RPG team. I don’t know what the sniper rifle caliber is called I would think it’s a .338 laupa because that was standard sniper rifle of the Marine Corps.
A: No. It was an M40 A3 which shoots a 7.62x51mm NATO round. It is essentially the same thing as a .308 They are based on a Remington 700 and modified by USMC armorers. Anyone that went to sniper school would shoot that rifle. Recon marines go to sniper school. Those who didnt would still crosstrain on range so they werent totally ignorant to the weapon.
- Q: Why do some of the men in the 1st Recon Battalion have no attachments on their M4 ie Q-Tip, Christenson, and Ray, while others like Brad, Fick, Fruity Rudy had optics and grips?
A: Because some people think that having that shit on your weapon makes you look cooler. It is all personal preference.
- Q: I've always wondered if the real Brad rocked that PVS-17 the whole time like his character did.
A: He sure did. It is an easy way to always have NV handy without having to have something strapped to your fucking head all the time (PVS-7's).
radios/comms
-Q: In ep 2, right after the ambush scene when there is a radio check, whatdo the "up" numbers mean? (up 120 and up, up 700 and up, up 200 and up..etc)
A: It is a short way to indicate status. "Up" means we are all good and no one is injured or dead. IIRC the number indicates rounds of ammo left.
- Q: In the ep 2 episode intro somebody says: "All Hitman Victors, be advised, we are rolling freaks to TAC 1-1-9 at 1400 Zulu. How copy?" I understand everything expect "rolling freaks". Any ideas?
A: It does mean "rolling freqs" which is shorthand for "Changing radio Frequencies."
As you have seen in the series, the military communicates using radio's. As a security measure, everyone changes to a different radio frequency at the same time at set intervals. Lets say that the enemy was able to steal/capture a US radio. Then they would be able to listen in on all our radio conversations...this is bad. So, just in case that happens we all change frequencies (along with crypto fills and other things) so that radio only has value for a very limited time.
This is definitely also combined with crystallographic signature changes as well as something known as frequency hopping (SINGARS) for additional security.
- Q: So how would the teams be able to keep up with the new radio frequencies? Are they passed by runner or is a CYZ used?
A: They are typically pre-planned in a "comm plan" (communications plan). If a radio were to come up missing then they would change the comm plan and distribute however they could.
If you look at the HMMWV windshield next to Brad Colbert in the series you will see a clear acetate with something printed on it. That is a cheat sheet of the comm plan.
- Different types of radios are capable of different radio bands. Most of what you hear in GK is all VHF (ground plane) band radio traffic. The vehicle radios and the handheld ones do VHF. Different groups have different "freqs" (pronounced like freaks) or frequencies that they use. Just like the FM radio in your car, you can tune into different radio stations by changing the frequency. Bravo 1 is on 95.7 Hot Country....and Bravo 2 is on 103.3 Smooth Jazz. You are always switching between the different freqs to talk to who you are supposed to be talking to. So, my personal radio may be set to be on Bravo 1's channel, but the vehicle may be set to Bravo 3 and then another guy may have his set to the Alpha channel. Just like setting the presets in your car, you can do that on these radios as well...so you can quickly switch between them.
The reason you also hear pilots in some of them is that some radios are UHF (line of sight) band to talk to pilots. The small handheld radios were both VHF and UHF radios so we could do things like call for fire missions and give the pilots our 9 lines.
Com plans utilize multiple channels across different spectrums (HF, VHF, UHF, Satellite) and many types of radios that have different spectrum capabilities.
Dude, have you never played with walkie-talkies as a kid...hahaha. You know someone is talking on your freq because you hear them. Only one person can talk at a time on any radio channel. You can only be "tuned" to a single frequency at a time. There is a very rigid etiquette when using radios to keep things clear and efficient.
We switched from the 77's to the AN/PRC-135 in 2002 (1st Recon Bn).
The 135's would do HF freq hopping, auto antenna tuning, and directly take crypto fills. But, the best part was they had a detachable face with an extension cord; so you could seal up the radio in your ruck (waterproofing and all). Then you would have the radio face in your front deuce gear to control the radio if you needed to switch freqs or something.
Edit: I just realized that I was talking about the 104's not the 77's. Yeah, late 90's the 77's were replaced by 119's.
beanies/uniforms
- Part of it is real (the black beanie's) and the rest is done by David Simon. The real part is that we all wore black beanies. It wasn't breaking any rules as they were allowed, but most other units frowned on wearing them unless in private. We did all wear them everywhere and it kind of became a “thing” that the recon guys are the ones in beanies.
The David Simon/ Ed Burns part is the rest of the scene. I think they were trying to explain to the audience who Recon Marines were and used Trombley/Espera to do that. It was a wise choice as neither Trombley nor Espera were Recon Marines at that point…which he mentions in that scene.
It followed the PT uniforms we wore also. The Marine Corps wears “green on green” shirt/shorts. Recon’s official PT uniform is “black on black”…so if you see guys PTing in black you know they are Recon Bubbas.
officers in Recon
- A little late to the party, but there is no such thing as a recon officer. The "Reconnaissance Man" MOS is 0321 and is only for enlisted marines. Godfather was not a recon marine...no officers are.
1st Recon is comprised of many that are not recon marines; support personnel like motor T, communications, navy corpsmen, intel, etc. Officers that are platoon/ company/ battalion commanders are typically Intelligence or Infantry officers.
- Q: Not trying to correct you as you were there, I definitely wasn't... but Fick mentioned he went through BRC in his book. I guess maybe some officers go thru BRC but retain their MOS whether infantry/intel/whatever?
A: Rarely, some officers do go through BRC/ARS; but even if they do they still never are recon marines and are never in a recon team.
- Platoon commanders for Recon are kind of in the rear with the gear...they don't go out with teams. They typically command a ROC (Recon Operation Center) and provide support and are a liaison between the team and higher-ups. They feed the teams direction (via radio comms) and take intel and generate reports (again via radio comms)...but they aren't with the teams.
Humvees
- Q: If I may ask...were you guys ever told why you weren't given closed-top humvees (except of course the lead vehicle).
A: Because we didnt' have them. The HMMWV's we got were Army surplus ones we scavenged.
- You don't go to war with what you want, you go with what you have. Everything has to be adapted on the fly...which is what happened. Everything in war is a calculated risk with a margin for "acceptable losses". Were we lucky? Sure.
MREs
- Q: In ep 5, when Ray is making MRE cookies, would that actually work? If so, how good could those actually be?
A: Yes it actually works. The sugar will melt and crystalize in the creamer which makes it solid and like a cookie. When you haven't eaten anything other than MREs for months straight they are good.
PS2: Ray seems like a good guy to have drinks with in a bar.
I agree...but I am a little biased.
- Point of clarification: These aren't really MRE's, they are just components of an MRE that can come in different MREs.
Personally my favorite MRE was the Beef Stew. It came with a pouch of Beef Stew, Jalapeno Cheese, pack of two crackers, and something like Skittles. It also came with a little packet with things like Folgers Crystals Coffee packets, creamer, salt/pepper, wet wipe, etc.
There were 24 different MREs in a 12 pack "A" or "B" case. Each had a different main meal and then accessory packets that included things like Peanut Butter, Regular Cheese, Jalapeno Cheese, Crackers, "Bread Slice", Charms, Skittles, Lorna Doone Cookies, M&M Cookies ("Cookies with Pan Coated Chocolate Disks"), Nature Valley Granola Bar, Strawberry Milkshake, Pound cake, Hot Cocoa Mix, etc, etc, etc.
The GK time generation of MREs were fairly new at the time and included new meals like "Bean Burrito", "Cheese Burger", etc. There were quite a few that were in the previous generation like "Beef Stew" and "Minestrone Soup". Probably the absolute worst one was "Pork Slice in Jamaican Style Sauce".
- It was a common tradition in Brad and my old platoon to stash fun things to share amongst the team at fun times. Like when your team is all wet and cold and hasnt really slept for weeks then you bust something fun out to share…it is a great pick-me-up. My favorite thing to do were king size snickers bars.
Humvee arrangement / Reporter
- Q: Who sat in the passenger side rear seat before the reporter came along?
A: No one. We determined who was in what vehicle right before the invasion..so we knew we had to fit Evan in somewhere. He really wanted to be with Brad and me...so there he went.
- Q: Why?
A: Because we're awesome. Honestly it was because he was told we would be the go-to team (because of Brad and me) for any special fun missions and he didn't want to miss out on those. That and I think he liked our dynamic as "characters".
- Short answer is because that is where he chose to be. For this war the US did something interesting in allowing for journalists to be embedded with the military units for the invasion. There were a ton of journalists that came and got a briefing on different unit types so the journalists could pick where they wanted to be. There were three journalists that after hearing what Recon was and that we would be a combat unit (so you may get shot at if you go with them) picked to be embedded with 1st Recon.
The three journalists then came to where we were staged in Kuwait and met with the BN Commander (Godfather) and were then briefed more specifically on who we were and what our role would be during the invasion. After that briefing two of the three journalists decided they didn't want to kick it with us...pussies. I do remember one of them was some guy with Men's Journal.
Evan then started hanging around us and learned that our team would likely see the most action and be at the front the most...so that is where he wanted to be. After a few nights in the tents hanging out with us he decided that he wanted to be in our vehicle as he liked our "characters" for his story.
Evan, in retrospect, would frequently say he's not sure whether he was more brave or stupid/naive to embed with us for the invasion. After each firefight/ambush he would say that he was going to leave...then we would tell him to stop being a huge pussy...so he kept going.
Zeus attack
- Q: Was Trombley actually just sitting there observing like he did in the film? [note: about Zeus attack]
A: Yes and no. Lots of people were kind of looking. I was the one that jumped up and observed the gun firing to find its location. I then called Walt up to the MK-19 to walk him in on target while calling in CAS via rotary wing at the same time. I got a Navy Achievement Metal with Combat V for that action. Interesting the series got it wrong on that.
explosion of Rudy's stove
- I didn't set my face on fire, Rudy set my face on fire…hahaha. That was all healed in just a few weeks like it never happened…I heal fast. It is a common joke amongst my friends that i am Wolverine because of my rapid healing.
- Rudy was heating water for coffee. It didn't explode. To use diesel fuel in those stoves we would preheat the fuel tube with a hexamite tab. Hexamite tabs turn to gel when they burn. Rudy was carrying the stove outside and some diesel on the outside of the stove caught fire in his hands. He then dropped it and the hexamite splattered off it all over my face. Burning gel all over my face
Captain America's name
- Yeah. A little into the invasion he went running into these mud huts with a fixed bayonet. I was sitting in my HMMWV with my team watching him run in and made the comment “This guy thinks he is Captain America!” We all started calling him that afterwards. To not embarrass the guy publicly they used it in the book and film instead of his real name.
invasion
- Q: Given the might of US military and Nato forces, could the invasion have been planned better? Maybe take more time to get there instead of the confusion and rush?
A: There was a plan and it worked pretty well. Our unit was only one small part of a much larger machine so you don't get to see the overarching thinking behind the entire invasion, you just see a tiny tiny part of it. Two quips that sum it up nicely are "Speed is far more effective than a plan" and "Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face"
- Q: Why weren't tanks and armor part of your group specially when entering hostile town?
A: Because they were needed elsewhere and we were essentially probing the battlefield so the commanders would know where best to direct the invading force...including armored units.
Recon training/conditions of OIF
-Q: How do you cope with the constant dangers and lack of sleep, food and hygiene. Most people would operate at lower levels under these circumstances and make mistakes. Was there something you guys did that made things better?
A: You fight how you train. We were used to little sleep, food, and hygiene because that is how we always trained. So, when it came to war we were already very comfortable and used to operating in that condition. Same shit, different day.
- All Recon Marines have the same MOS...0321. There are team roles such as Pointman, Navigator, Slackman, RTO, Assistant RTO, Assistant Team Leader, and Team Leader. Every Recon Marine is expected to have held each role to be well rounded. You may be the RTO in one team and then a Navigator in another.
All Marines (not just Recon Marines) are marksman and have to qualify just the same. This is independent of their MOS. Every Marine is a Rifleman.
Nearly all Recon Marines have gone through Sniper School...this is nothing super special.
- Q: Though I did do underwater football with a few of the Recon guys for PT a few times. That was a pretty brutal game. Put a plastic chair in either side of the deep end of the pool (12'+ at Flores) and put an underwater weight between the chairs in the middle of the pool. Line up 5 guys on either side. Dive in on the mark and try to get the weight into the seat of the chair opposite of your side. Tap if you need air, usually you get released pretty quickly... After a second or two. And that was about the only rule. Underwater everything was game. Grabbing, choking, ripping off masks...and it was a brutal workout. You'd be sucking wind after a few goals.
A: When I was in we played a lot of "Underwater Soccer" which is basically the same thing just without the chairs. Two team on either side of the pool and a weight (either a 25lb bar weight or dumbbell) in the middle on the bottom. Your team gets a point when you touch the opposing teams wall with the weight in hand.
The other game I used to love was the "Whistle Game." In this game a metal whistle was thrown into the middle of the pool. It was every man for himself. You had to grab the whistle from the bottom of the pool and rise to the surface and successfully blow it. If you did then you got to get out of the pool. Everyone else keeps going. It was one of the "Pays to be a winner" games.
- Another fun side note: We used to play a game called "Tap-Out Pass-Out" in which we would ground fight (think Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu) and the only rules were no eye gouging. The game was only over when someone would pass out or tap out. While Rudy is/was an amazing standing fighter, he wasn't great on the ground. I am very good on the ground and would always beat him, much to Rudy's chagrin. Because of that Rudy began to diligently practice and improve his ground fighting, so I don't know if you should mess with him on the ground now.
Ripped Fuel
- Q: Ray, how much Ripped Fuel have you had?
A: Believe it or not I only had 2 the entire time. Two were issued to each marine as part of a med kit. The rest was just swallowing Folgers Coffee Crystals that came in the MREs.
First Recon
- Former B Co, 1st Recon Bn 0321 (1999-2003) checking in. 1st Recon was a Battalion in 1990? It was a Company when I first got there (I was in 2nd Platoon - 1st Recon Co)...then it changed into a Battalion a year or two later.
Afghanistan / Ray's Marine Corps career
- Question: Were you on this float? What did you do before joining 1st recon? Did you go to Afghanistan?
Answer: Yes. I was a pipeliner, so I was always always at 1st. I did go to Afghanistan. I was in 1st Recon Company, 2nd platoon on this float. It is the same platoon as Brad Colbert but I was in a different team.
- You can petition to "try out" for recon. If you pass a screening (run by Recon Marines) then you typically go to a "RIP" platoon (Recon Indoctrination Platoon or something like that) to be weeded out if you aren't able to hang. From there you go to a Recon MOS producing school (ARS or BRC) and if you pass that course then you become a "Roper" until you pass the unit Indoc. It isn't just jump right in.
- Q: I guess that means you went fleet grunt first then tested into recon yeah?
I enlisted 03XX then got 0311 out of SOI, then was picked up by recon at the graduation of SOI.
A: I am a fellow pipeliner. When i went in, 0321 was a secondary MOS (circa 2000)…so I was an 0311 with the secondary of 0321.
- Q: What year did you graduate boot camp? Company? Platoon?
A: January 2000, San Diego, Mike Co., Plt 3014
- Q: The 9/11 attacks solidified my choice in enlisting. At the time, I was a Sophomore in HS. 3rd period Geometry. Where were you?
A: Sitting in a pub in Darwin Australia (it was night time there) on libo. Shore Patrol comes running into the pub screaming for everyone to get back to ship (15th MEU on the USS Dubuque). Get back to ship just in time to see the second tower fall on tv. Go to drunken sleep as we set sail for Pakistan (Bravo Platoon, 1st Recon Company).
- He [note: Ray talking about himself] picked up Sgt. before he got out through. Fellow B Co 1st Recon alum. Yut Yut.
characters/people career background
- First Recon Bn is not just Recon Marines...it includes all the support personnel that are needed for a unit as well; like Armorers, Motor T, Intel, Supply, Communications, Admin, etc.
Jeff wasn't a Recon Marine; his MOS was Motor T. He was a Motor T Marine assigned to First Recon. We loved Jeff because he was super pessimistic and hateful. When Darnold was shot and medevac'd out, Jeff filled the vacancy in Kocher's team.
- Capt. Eric Dill was our Recon Platoon Commander during Afghanistan and can be seen in Part-8 @ 11:42. His/my platoon is the one that he handed over to Fick after we got back stateside.
- One thing to note is that Fick wasn't with Recon during Afghanistan...he was an Infantry Platoon commander. Afghanistan is where Fick became buddies with our current Recon Platoon commander, Eric Dill. Dill convinced Fick to come over to 1st Recon after getting back from Afghanistan. This is also where we "found" Garza, Leon, etc and convinced them to come over from the infantry to become Recon Marines.
- The first casualty was Darnold in Eric Kocher's team. He was shot in the forearm when we drove through an ambush. This is the scene where Walt was possibly tangled in the electrical wires and I believe it shows a HMMWV monster-trucking a car. Dirty Earl (Jeff Carizalez) then took over for Darnold in Eric's team.
paddles
- Paddles aren't just a Recon thing...they are generally a boat team thing...which Recon guys are amongst. Honestly, it varies as to who would get one. Some think that only other Recon Marines should get them...others think that support guys should too.
Typically the size of the paddle matters. The bigger the paddle the more senior/experience/loved the guy was. When I was in the small novelty paddles were for thank-you's to folks. Regular 4 foot paddles were for solid Recon Marines that were liked. Large 6 foot paddles were reserved for guys that had been there a while and were exceptional.
GK production
- David Simon (the guy that did Gen Kill) was really the instrumental piece to making it what it was. Early on HBO was going to have someone else do it...and it was straight up fucking Michael Bay style. David wanted real Marines to be able to watch the series and see not a single thing wrong with it; from the dialog, equipment/uniforms, actor body types, mannerisms, etc. He gave us a hell of a ton of leeway to just "be ourselves" so he could have that in the series.
I got involved early on when they were working on the scripts to make sure the slang and jargon added was Marine Corps specific and current. Even the radio chatter in all scenes was written by real Marines...all the pilot sides of radio chatter (like when calling CAS) was recorded by a real FAC.
All the actors were put through a two week "How to be a Marine" course. From how to wear their uniforms, how to carry their weapons, hazing motivational physical exercises, etc. One of the biggest problems was all the actors wanting to do exactly what Rudy Reyes did on set; and Rudy lives in a comic book so it wasn't all exactly accurate.
In one of the episodes, the Oscar Award winning Director (different episodes had different directors) was going to have guys flying when shot like you see in the typical movies. After the Marines on set (Eric Kocher and Jeff Carizalez) told her that was not real and she did it anyways; Eric and Jeff started just making comments like "This episode is going to fail fucking miserably", "Wow, this episode is going to suck balls", "This is the worst fucking thing I have ever seen"...as you already noticed, those scenes were redone.
float tapes
- About the Float Tapes: OMG!...these videos are gold. Watching through them now. I have already seen Gabe Garza (Part-3 @ 1:04 far right) Tony Espera (Part-3 @ 7:50) as they were both with that infantry unit at the time.
- I had never seen these so it is fun to relive this float. In Part 4 when they are doing the "Steel Beach Party" he has a part where he films guys playing hacky-sack with "Black Shirts = Cool AF" on screen. The black shirts are Recon guys (everyone else has to wear green). In that shot are Eric Kocher (in the green flight suit) and Larry Shawn Patrick (tall guy with sunglasses on) along with some other brothers. There were 22 Recon guys total on that float in 4 teams. I haven't seen me or anyone from my team in the videos yet.
- Part 36 @ 3:17 is Rudy Reyes, a guy i forgot his name right now in the SERE shirt, the blond guy to his right (James Klepel /was on my team), and the guy that walks in behind Espera (Luke Meister / also on my team).
Real Evan Wright intel (twitter) about GK
camera
- Reporter's camera was a Leica m6 50mm, analogue (film, not digital)
Manimal
- Anthony "Manimal" Jacks usually wore his teeth and was a serious person who spoke to me a lot about his family & his concerns about doing right, if we crossed the border. Being "Manimal" was sort of a character he played to amuse people
MRE crates
- As is clear in this photo, Holsey, too, could scarcely contain his joy that I was taking his picture. Note: he's seated on an MRE crate. Those are like general propose chairs and tables in the field, like "apple boxes" in the film industry.
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Whatever May Come and Whatever May Go, That River’s Flowing
by @iwantthatbelstaffanditsoccupant and Eve283
Read the fic and view the art on AO3!
He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. He picked up the phone and read the text.
Yet another apology. This one even more ridiculous than the last. So now Sherlock is claiming his mug (his meaning John’s) had made him (him meaning Sherlock) feel like he (meaning John) was in the room with him (meaning Sherlock…again). Selfish bastard. Stealing all the hims along with the Swindon mug. John’s Swindon mug. To hold God-knows-what.
John placed his (meaning John’s) hand on his (John's again) forehead and sighed. He’d had a bit to drink and he’d maybe try to sleep it off if possible. But first, some more water, along with a paracetamol.
It was almost sweet. The text. Not the paracetamol.The sort of confession that made John both immediately suspicious as to its veracity and glad he hadn’t heard the ping over the general noise of quiz night at the Volunteer. He’d have responded, he was sure of it. And then he’d have forgiven the bastard for using his mug again.
And three missed calls. Lovely. Lovely and jubbly, his mind supplied. Which made him smile, in spite of himself. And that made him frown.
John was beginning to think he might be pissed. In the American sense as well as the British. Fucking Sherlock Holmes.
You wish, responded a voice inside his brain.
Yeah. I guess I do, he replied back.
Not exactly a new thought for John, but not a welcome one right now. Water and sleep. Much more welcome.
A voicemail.
Sherlock never left a voicemail. John stared at the number in its tiny red circle for a full minute before he remembered to press play.
“John. I…”
Not good.
“I… Apologies. For the mug. I… It’s true, what I said about the mug and your presence. Well, that and the top is curved slightly outward, so I can stir it easily when adding a solvent without scraping the sides. The sound is…discordant. But, what I wanted to say was…” There was a pause and his voice cracked as the message continued. “…Well, I will be home sometime tomorrow morning. That was not my intent, and I am not sending any sort of message through my absence. Oh, and I acquired a replacement mug. So don’t worry.”
John sighed. Sleep would have to wait. And his buzz was gone for good. He texted Sherlock.
Where are you?
On a footbridge. Looking down at the water. It’s calming.
And where is the bridge?
In Swindon.
Swindon.
Yes.
Well that explained the overnight absence. The last train back to London left at 11 and it was past midnight.
Can you tell me why you went to Swindon?
To get another mug, of course.
London shops wouldn’t have one.
So you what, took a train, to Swindon?
The 9:17, yes.
I wanted to do something productive while waiting for midnight.
But the return is… Well
Is a 5 hour stop in scenic Reading for the night before it continues into Victoria, yeah.
Yeah.
Might as well stay.
Yeah.
Wait. How did you buy a mug at eleven-something in Swindon?
The shops would all be closed. Those sort of shops anyway.
I purchased it. I knew you wouldn’t want it if I hadn’t.
I left payment on the counter next to the register.
You broke into a store, took a Swindon mug, and left a tenner?
20. You underestimate the value of your mug.
And a thank you note.
John laughed.
Ok you absolute nutter.
Then he paused. He was certain he was missing something. Something important. John scrolled up.
Why were you waiting for midnight?
Is the fairy godmother meeting you to take her shoes back?
Another reference to the cindersweep woman? You must like that one.
Yes it is. And I guess I do.
But why were you killing time till midnight instead of, you know, going back?
Or even leaving tomorrow morning to buy my mug in person at a reasonable hour instead of committing B&E?
It isn’t breaking and entering unless I do something illegal once I’m inside.
And I did pay for it. Overpaid, even.
But Victor is 9 hours ahead.
And while he has always been an early riser, I thought waiting till 9 am would be the polite thing to do.
Oh. So you wanted to call him.
Yes.
John waited for more information. None came. Then the stark realisation that he had gotten angry at Sherlock and his response to the argument was to run off to replace the mug and to call what had once been his only friend in the world.
Did you reach him?
Yes.
Three white dots appeared, then stopped, then appeared again. It felt like ages before anything appeared on screen.
Lionel Trevor, or rather the man we have chosen to refer to as such, is dead.
John collected his thoughts and then responded.
I’m sorry. What happened?
He hoped to God Lionel hadn’t made the decision to end his own life.
Natural causes.
John felt a wave of relief, only to have it dashed upon the rocks as the message continued.
It was already late so I thought I’d grab a coffee and call.
Just to check in.
Late here, early there.
He had died two weeks prior.
Where are you?
A footbridge in Swindon, Watson, do keep up.
I believe I mentioned it earlier when I said I’d be returning late.
What bridge? I’m coming to get you.
No need. I’ll be back in the morning.
No. Just tell me which bridge. Cross-streets.
More delay. John paced around the flat, waiting.
It’s a stunning piece of architecture. It spans the canal between Waitrose and the Hall & Woodhouse pub.
A laser-cut steel masterpiece.Truly the Pride of Swindon.
Hall & Woodhouse. Got it.
I’ll grab a rental and be there in two hours.
John, it’s just an hour-long train ride in the morning
As opposed to a two hour drive here and two back.
I’ll be fine.
I’m on my way. If you get cold, go in the pub, k?
I will.
It wasn’t two hours. More like an hour forty. Or maybe John was just driving more than a bit on the fast side.
There he was, a dark silhouette leaning on the railing of a non-descript bridge over what may have once been something which bore a far greater resemblance to a river. Now it was perhaps a stream at best and it looked as if they could have built the road right on top of it and no one would have been the wiser. Still, John walked across the tiny bridge in slow, measured steps, not quite sure what he should say when he reached Sherlock, who was standing dead center, staring into the struggling current. It turned out the right thing to say at that moment was nothing at all.
#submission#sherlock & co#sherlock and co#event#fanart#fanfiction#flash bang#creative collaboration#sherlock holmes#john watson#mariana ametxazurra
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yeah the suggestion that sophie should be erased is deeply annoying to. like i need male centered white women who are fujos to step away from bridgerton and benophie. Sophie being a woman, a bastard woman, and navigating her gendered oppression because of her lower class is integral to benophie. if people want lgbtq representation they can go watch another show, or better yet, create original characters and go write fanfic if they want.
There is a place for LGBT+ rep in Bridgerton, there is even a place to turn a couple of the characters bi, but specifically gender swapping any of the main love interests/protagonists just would not work, and people need to be honest about that. However, they won’t be because they are just using the excuse of the show not being “diverse enough” to not support a Black woman playing Sophie Beckett.
The reality is that Bridgerton has tried to be more diverse than most shows, but they do not have to check every single box or else the show is not “progressive” enough. That’s not how it works.
It’s not “unprogressive” to keep the most oppressed woman due to her gender and class in the eight book series a woman. Again taking rep away from women(and marginalized women at that) to give to a (white) man that way you can see two (white) dudes fucking on screen does not make you “progressive.” Trying most surely does not make you a good ally(seriously where are you people when we are actually getting bad rep?).
Just because you see Black people in a period piece that’s highly popular, in a place where you feel we don’t “belong,” that doesn’t mean that we have to give up our space to fit you inside it.
(Mind you this is a place that we created because if Shonda hadn’t adapted these books added the diversity this series would’ve never done the numbers it has. Bridgerton is a sensation because of racial diversity that isn’t steeped in racism and race. It’s neither here nor there, but we constantly create our own, everyone wants to eat off our plates, and then leave us with scraps after they’ve had their fill).
This whole discourse is just incredibly bizarre, but the thing I find the most disturbing about it is the fact that even if you want to say Sophie should be a man, Benedict doesn’t like men.
I mean this literally should be a non-issue since he has shown 0 interest in men for two seasons and he’s had plenty of opportunities to fuck them if he wanted too.
Now if the show turns around and makes him bi this season(doubtful, but I’ll humor the weirdos) he still clearly likes women too so why Sophie should get the boot is beyond me, but not surprising considering the state of fandoms.
Silently off topic, but kinda related since it comes from the same place of using the lack of prominent LGBT+ rep to justify keeping a Black woman from being Sophie.
Which brings me people who think that Masali Baduza(suspected Sophie) can’t possibly be Sophie and instead insist that she’s either related to the Stirlings(the family Francesca marrys into) or that shes a gender bent Michael.
For issue #1 people claim that Masali and Victor Ali(the man who they suspect is John Stirling) “look alike” therefore she must be playing his sister. Victor Ali and Masali don’t look alike outside of both being dark skinned Black people(the people saying they do look hella suspect🙃).
And while Masali isn’t a household name she did have her own show(Noughts + Crosses) so she’s too big to just be playing someone’s sisters on Bridgerton. Not to mention the secrecy for a side character seems extremely unwarranted.
Now for issue #2, people are using a casting call(cause at least they know that it makes no sense for Masali to be a side character) that allegedly went out two years back to say she’s gender-bent Michael.
If you believe in the casting call(a similar one went out for Kate calling for a Indian actress when she was being cast so it is on brand) it says that the actress cast will be the lead for season four. Francesca’s story most surely isn’t going to be next up(skipping over both Eloise and Benedict? Be real) and it’s also another gendered issue to where if you make Michael into a woman you are changing up the story so much you might as well created an OC.
There is plenty of evidence that suggest Benedict’s season is next, Sophie has been cast, she’ll be in s3, and even if you don’t want to believe the casting call right now, that Masali is playing her, but instead of seeing what’s right in front of them people want to say that it just can’t be.
Overall I feel like people are doing a whole lot of talking and “advocating” for nothing cause they are butthurt that Sophie doesn’t look how they want her to look.
It’s still hurtful though to see that people would rather want Sophie to be a man and take away everything she stands for than see her being played by a Black woman, but again fandoms are unfortunately weird like that.
Let me end this by saying that while my rants my sound like I have gone crazy or am trying to start some bs, I have been suffering in silence since Bridgerton came out nearly three and a half years ago so this is me breaking my silence.
Again this isn’t really about erasing Sophie. It’s about keeping Sophie from being played by a Black woman which is fucking nuts considering that a Black woman is producing this crap.
First it was how Sophie couldn’t be non-white because it would be problematic. Then after Simone was cast as Kate it was how the show had no East Asian representation or Latina rep and had “too many Black people”(where are the Black people besides Lady Danbury and Will 🙃)so Sophie could be non-white, but she should not be Black.
Now that it truly seems like a Black girl it’s how Sophie should be a man cause the show has no LGBT+ rep.
And yeah everyone deserves rep, but the fact that people have continually said that their has been enough rep for Black people as a way to silence us and push their own representation at the expense of Black people is disgusting.
I can not reiterate this enough, the one thing this shitty ass fandom has been consistent in is saying that a Black woman shouldn’t play Sophie Beckett.
All I can say is that I hope Shonda has not listened to the people who keep yelling at her to give them representation at the expense of Black people while at the same time being fucking passive aggressive whiny little anti-Black bitches to her and all the Blackish actors on the show.
#bnask#bnasks#bridgerton asks#I guess now I got to protect her too 😭#this is all coming out in a word salad but I literally bit my tongue for months cause I didn’t want to get into more fandom drama#I’ve ripped the bandaid off and am speaking out now#sb asks
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The “noncanonical pairings are usually wish fulfillment” thing is so bonkers because there’s so much variety in terms of what is “non canon.” By the strictest definitions of canon, something like Anthy/Utena isn’t “canon” in the original anime series because they never explicitly say they’re romantic lesbian lovers or kiss (except in the ending theme, which people often don’t count), even though the entire fucking show is about that relationship and it makes significantly less sense if you interpret them in a platonic way. Same with something like Yuuri and Victor in Yuri on Ice. Most people would call those “canon” (I would with both) but I’ve seen people fight over it because it’s not “explicit enough.” A lot of people who are used to really didactic storytelling — which, lbh, is clearly a lot of people in fandom spaces based on the discourse that gets started here — don’t really know what to make of works like Revolutionary Girl Utena that rely a lot on symbolism and allusion, and in expecting their audience to do the work to meet them where they are rather than getting down to where the dumbest possible viewer is.
Then, on the next level, you get relationships that were built up to in some way, but then the writers later decided to take it another direction. You get ones that got a lot of subtext, but they were a same-sex relationship or an interracial relationship or something else taboo in a time before that was permissible in mainstream media of that kind. You get ones where it was the actors interpreting it that way, but not the writers; or the writers, but not the directors; or the directors and script, but the actor didn’t play it that way. (A good example of both of the last two examples: Garak/Bashir from Star Trek Deep Space Nine, whose actors have both admitted to playing them that way and supporting the ship, and where the creators have basically said they saw that there was something there but knew they wouldn’t be able to get away with that on a Star Trek show then.)
On the next level down, you might get something where it fits into a well-established romantic trope but the creator somehow has no idea of but the fans pick up on it — for instance, maybe they would only see it as romantic if it were between a man and a woman, but this is two women, and they don’t recognize how it’s going to look different to someone who is less heteronormative in their thinking. Maybe the creator just has such a strong bias against some particular combo of characters that they don’t want to acknowledge what they wrote by accident. (Like how J.K. Rowling was so mad that so many of her readers liked Draco Malfoy even though it’s pretty obvious to anyone else what’s so appealing about how she wrote that character, but for relationships rather than individual characters.)
And then of course, you do get some ships that are just completely out of left field, someone projecting a particular dynamic really hard that they wish was there on some characters that don’t have that kind of chemistry at all to anyone else watching/reading/etc. One of my fandoms had a really vocal group get really into a ship like that recently (because the person who started it framed it as “progressive” and herself as a bit of a BNF so a lot of younger discourse-addled people went along with it who also thought the more popular main ship was “problematic”) and it was annoying because they were so self-aggrandizing about how there was all this hidden subtext that no one but them was seeing because we were all less social justice enlightened than them or something. When it was really just that those characters didn’t have that dynamic at all, but they THOUGHT they should. There was a lot of hilarious misinterpretation of scenes that were in context, not remotely shippy, but one character was touching the other one very slightly or something.
But IME, those kinds of ships getting any kind of substantial following is rare. Most fairly popular ships that are non-canon, including pretty much every non-canon juggernaut ship I’ve ever seen (going back to DS9, Garashir is like 45% of the DS9 fanfic on AO3 last time I checked, so it’s definitely a juggernaut ship), there is at least SOMETHING there that comes from the original work. Even if it’s just “these two guys have the kind of buddy-cop dynamic that slash shippers often like to envision in romantic ways,” “this guy and this girl are the kind of lifelong childhood friends that we’re used to being romantic in anime like this so a lot of people started shipping them immediately,” “these two girls have the kind of Fuffy/Catradora/etc. friends-to-enemies-to-friends-again-to-lovers dynamic that makes a lot of femslashers lose their minds,” etc. Even with those three examples, while it may not be *intentional* on the part of the creator, it’s bizarre to say those people are “projecting” when they’re responding to those couples fitting into longstanding media trends that a lot of people identify. “Projection” to me is something like the earlier example I gave of the obnoxious people in my one fandom, where they are just determined to make some square peg fit a round hole because they’re desperate to have everything be round. And again, I don’t think that’s nearly as common as a lot of people, and especially salty het shippers who want to demonize the popularity of M/M or F/F in their fandoms, seem to think it is. (Also, like het-only shippers aren’t the ultimate in seeing romantic dynamics with every time a man and a woman are close at all, and throwing a fit when it doesn’t happen in canon, lol)
(I also think some of these people confuse the “projection” for people who are more dedicated rarepair shippers, where the motivation is often more “okay this might not be here but WHAT IF” than sincerely thinking the work is actually doing something that it isn’t really doing. Again, I’ve met people who are into rarepairs who just seem to have a really bad lack of understanding for what “subtext” is and confusing anything they wish was there with “subtext,” but I think those people are a rarity. For a lot of people who like rarepairs, the fact that it’s not at all what canon is suggesting is something they are aware of and that is The Point. It’s “I know the work doesn’t actually suggest this, but how can I change it so that it does”)
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In my experience, that particular flavor of oldschool homophobe invariably ships tons of het that is not actually canon.
They just don't like it when 1. anything that's not their favorite gets popular and 2. people think a character could be queer without it being literally stated in the first episode/page.
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Society of Protection (Yandere Bungo Stray Dogs x reader x original characters) (normalized yandere au)
Chapter six
To Dust You Shall Return
Prologue and oc intro
Chapter one
Chapter two
Chapter three
Chapter four
Chapter five
You sat in the lounge, a cup of tea in hand as you listen to Miss Jane and the rest of her organization explains everything. They started as a close knit friend group of Jane, Gaston, and Dr. Stevenson when Jane returned to Europe after her divorce with Fitzgerald or in other words, she got the divorce without him knowing, changed her name, and immediately ran away back to her home continent, and stayed hidden with her close friends help while they rebuilt her fortune. After that the three of them found other friends who were like them at galas, garden parties, and so on. They began working together and began this organized secret society with a shared goal, changing the society of the world.
You sat in stunned silence for a long moment, staring down at the brown liquid of the tea. Everyone sat for with you while you thought, waiting for you to say something, anything. You thought on what you have learned recently, Gaston’s words, Victor’s words, they both echoed in your mind…
“You can, you can, you just cannot let them get to you, (Name). They may run this society we call life but they do not own us .”
Don’t give up, no matter what happens. Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.”
“Love, jealousy, hatred, burst out around us in harrowing cries. It is we who should be able to have control over those emotions for they are ours, ours to feel, ours to live, and ours to give.”
Are you really just gonna sit here and hear this and not want your life back, you wanted to have dreams, you wanted to have your own life.
Miss Jane places her gloved hand on your shoulder and spoke in her comforting, elegant voice. “Miss (Name), I understand. This is a lot, you can leave and forget all about this. If you want to go back to normal life you are always welcome for tea or-“
“I want to join.”
There was a silence in the room before Gaston chuckled and looked up, pushing his glasses up and leaning back on the couch. “Called it.” The youngest in the room, Alexandre you learned, groaned and reached into his pocket and handed Gaston a wadded up roll of cash. This earned Alexandre and Gaston a glare from both you, Jane, and Dr. Stevenson.
“Are you sure about this, you don’t have an ability. This will be dangerous, extremely dangerous.” Miss Jane asked, her voice worried but strong. “You will be risking everything, your livelihood, friends, famil-“
“Miss Jane, my family is gone, I don’t know where they are anymore. My friends are either kidnapped or dead. While I love Ms. Haruka, I work at a flower shop that gets five customers a day. I want to have a life, I want to go to college, get a degree in… something, I don’t know. But as of now I can’t… so to the world I say fuck you.” You rant on for a minute before taking a breath and heavily sigh. “I want in cause I have a dream, a dream to have a life. I know I don’t have an ability but I want to be of some use and not just sit on my ass and just let these things happen to me.”
Miss Jane reached out her gloved hand to you and smiled, almost a plotting smile, but not towards you, as if to someone not in the room “Well then welcome to the Society of Protection.”
You shook her hand, sealing your fate in this society.
—————————
Over the next few days you made a call to Ms. Haruka and you told her that you couldn’t continue your job at the flower shop for the time being, you told her that with your recent break in at your apartment that you were staying with friends while you waited for things to die down. She understood and went on a rant about how things aren’t the way they should be and you agreed with her and that you were always welcome back at the flower shop any time, you need only stop by.
You had also rode with Alexandre back to your old apartment to pick up a few essentials, since you officially moved into the guest bedroom at Miss Jane’s apartment. You grabbed a few sentimental items, family photos, childhood stuffed animals, and so on, but no electronics since those could easily be bugged or clothing since tracking devices could have been attached to the fabric. Miss Jane and Baroness Emma told you that they would be having a wardrobe made for you that fit the society’s standards of dress because in there words “just because we’re at the bottom of the food chain doesn’t mean we can’t camouflage to fit in.”
So you returned to the apartment building, and now to your realization headquarters, and up to Miss Jane’s apartment. She was sitting on the couch looking over a few files laid out on the table in front of her when you walked in. She didn’t look up to you when you came in but spoke up. “(Name) dear, they’re a few dresses and other outfits on your bed. Try them on and let me know which ones fit so I cam have more made in those measurements. Then at need to talk you, I have a job for you, Emma, and William.”
“Sure, just need to set this box down in my room first, Miss Jane” she only hummed in response as you left the room and into yours and on the bed stood stunning gowns and put together outfits, all laid out to match, but there was one that caught your eye, it was a simple outfit but lovely, a white button up with a red bow, green sweater vest, a long blueish gray coat, black pants, and brown leather boots. You slipped it on piece by piece and then looked at yourself in the full length mirror beside your bed, you looked like a strong independent woman, ready to take on the world, and that was perfect.
—————————
Now, all dressed up in your new clothes, you sat in the lounge with Miss Jane, Emma, and William. Miss Jane had laid out files out on the table, photos of guild members, notes, and a photo of a ship. Miss Jane glanced down at them before looking up at the three of you. “This is a simple reconnaissance mission. I have received word from our mole in the Port Mafia that they are going to eliminate Guild assets. Your job is to stake out at the docks today while they reload their ship and figure out if this rumor is true so just another passing by in conversation, or if this was a set up and our informant is a traitor. Since the detective agency has gone into hiding, anything could be on the table.”
“The detective agency has gone into hiding?” You were shocked, only a few days ago you were at their office, watching Victor loose it at the president. Miss Jane nodded in response to your question.
“Yes, Alexandre had stopped at their office only two days ago to see it completely empty of anyone. We were hoping to make some sort of alliance with them but I’m not so sure anymore between that out burst Victor had and Gaston’s research onto them we’re not sure if it’s wise to do so anymore.” There was a silence in the air before Miss Jane snapped herself back into it. “That’s besides the point you three are to stake out the…” Jane pauses before continuing. “The S.S. Zelda, and make note of any destruction that happens to it or to a Mr. Nathaniel Hawthorne or Ms. Margaret Mitchell. Split up if you must but you are by no means to engage in combat and only do so if it’s your only way out. You can take the files to read in the car on the way there. This meeting is concluded you are dismissed.”
—————————
You, Emma, and William sat on the second floor of a warehouse, you were set up in a window that faced the ship so while you had a clear view you could also duck if spotted. Before leaving the apartment William had given to a gun in case you need it and a vial of purple liquid in case you get caught, you weren’t sure what it was but everyone in the society always had one on them, apparently it was connected to Lewis Carrol’s ability that you didn’t know about.
As you three watched, nothing was happening, William had even pulled out another one of his plays to read to pass the time, then you noticed something, one of the workers was giving a letter to Nathaniel, interrupting an argument between him and Margaret you had no hope of listening to from this distance. You stepped your fingers at your coworkers and pointed out the window to the conversation none of you could hear.
“That letter from the Port Mafia?” William questioned, adjusting his glasses as the three of you looked out the window.
“Hard to say from this distance, since we don’t have any ears on that ship we’re out of luck, my dear.” Emma said with a sigh and ruffling the wrinkles in her dress. You paused at this and looked at the two of them.
“My dear? Are you two a thing?”
“We’re married.” William answered bluntly. “Well sort of. See no church would allow two darlings to married, not legally anyway. So we had a secret wedding between only the two of us, we said our vows, exchanged rings, and kissed, no one pronounced us husband and wife so we are only married in our hearts.”
Emma reached up and took his hand, brought it to her lips and kissed the palm of it. “One day my heart, one day we will have the wedding we deserve.”
You looked away with a slightly sad expression back to the window and watched once more. You hoped my joining this organization you could bring a wedding to William and Emma, giving them what they deserve. You watched as Nathaniel finished reading the letter and looked around the doc… wait there was no sense of urgency in his or Margret’s face, if anything they looked happy. It was unsettling, what did that letter say? The you saw it…
Nathaniel’s eyes were fixed on the window, your window. You panicked and grabbed Emma’s arm. “This was a set up, they know we’re here guys.”
Emma and William looked out the window, panic clear on their faces. You watched as Nathaniel took a sharp edge of a cross and cut his had letting the blood flow, but you didn’t pay to much attention as Emma was dragging you away from the window. “We have to get outside, I can use my ability to get us out of here once we’re outs-“
The shattering of glass of the window cut Emma off. You spun around and saw blood like blades almost had shattered the windows, was that Nathaniel’s ability? You looked close and saw words in it, what was this. You screamed as they approached you but luckily William pulled you out of the way in time. He pushed you and Emma behind him as you three ran. You and Emma pushed open the door, one street leading the the ship the other away, turn an alley and you’re at the car. Emma took the dagger that she kept on her and drew a slit on her arm, leaving a thin red line of blood behind. This blood began to turn into a fog and or mist like substance, red in color. “(Name) stay close to me you have never experienced my ability befo- AHHHH!”
Emma was cut off by her own scream when one of these blood like ribbons from Nathaniel came and wrapped itself around her bleeding arm, stopping the mist, and the hand that held the dagger, stopping her from cutting herself again. You could hear the sound of footsteps approaching as William threw himself in front of you and Emma, you could barely process his words, letting you to run until you were already a block away, panting and gasping for breath.
—————————
Emma could feel her throbbing arm and heartbeat with Nathaniel’s ability wrapped around her arm. She saw you running, listening to William’s words. She could head the footsteps of Nathaniel and Margaret approaching but she couldn’t do anything anymore. She dropped the dagger as she felt Nathaniel’s ability drag her back towards him. She tried to reach a hand out to William but she just wasn’t strong enough, and now she was restrained in front of Nathaniel with Margaret walking towards William. Nathaniel kneeled down to her who had fell on the ground while begging dragged over to him. He reached out his hand to Emma’s face caressing it gently before his eyes narrowed at something. He trailed his thumb up over Emma’s lips, smudging her lipstick off. He rubbed the red material between his fingers before sighing. “We’ll be having no more of that. I don’t need my darling dressing herself up like a harlot.”
“DON’T YOU DARE CALL MY WIFE SUCH THINGS!”
William was fueled only by rage now, his mind blank to Margaret walking towards him. Nathaniel heavily sighed and looked over the Margaret. “Take care of your darling, William was it?”
“With pleasure.” At Margaret saying those two words, William drew the silver thin sword that rested on his hip, and as soon as he drew it vines began to grow on it, along with roses at produced a red sap, a deadly poison that only William could cure, this was his ability, Roses and Thorns. Emma smirked as she watched Margaret stop dead in her tracks. “How dare you draw that blade, hurt me, Buttercup, and you will be punished.”
“Not until my wife is free, for she is my light and my life!” William shouted, he gripped the hilt tightly before lunging at Margaret, his sword aiming at her gut. Out of the employees that were watching, one of them jumped up and shoved Margaret out of the way. Margaret and Nathaniel watched in horror and Emma with hope in her eyes as William’s sword drove through the employee’s flesh like butter, and coming out in the back of the employee. He spat out blood as William pulled his sword out and let the body fall to the ground. William pushed the body over with his foot so Margaret and Nathaniel could see the body, veins turning purple and black from the wound, the poison already taking affect. William looked up, a shadow cast over her face, his eyes dark, an expression of pure rage. “Will you provoke me? Then have at me, m’lady!”
“You have one job in life, do it and you live a perfect life. Instead what you do is fight for what? A disgrace of a woman that is not yours?” Margaret said, her voice pissed off at the sword wielding man. This knocked William over the edge, he raised up his leg and kicked Margaret in the ribs, knocking the air out of her lungs. She fell to the ground, gasping for breath and before she could get up there was a sword pointed right at her neck, William’s sword.
“I will not hesitate to kill you, slit your throat so that my poison reaches your brain, killing you almost instantly. Luckily I am not in the mood to spill anymore blood today, so I will offer you two a deal.” William glanced over to Nathaniel who was still restraining Emma. “I will spare Ms. Margaret Mitchell’s life, it you free my rose, my Emma.”
“How dare you, you have ground to stand on, you have no-“ William cut her off by tilting her head up with the dull end of his sword.
“I hold your life in my hands, it is you Ms. Mitchell. That is what I stand on.”
Nathaniel cleared his throat and pushed up his glasses, his eyes fixed on William and Margaret. “Lady Margaret’s favorite bible verse is simple.” A confused expression came across William’s and Emma’s faces as Nathaniel speaks. “And to dust you shall return.”
With that a wicked smile came across Margaret’s face as she looked up and made direct eye contact with William, sending a shiver down his spine. Margaret snapped her fingers and almost instantly William’s sword, his ability, disappeared before his eyes, turning into ash. Now William was left vulnerable, without a weapon to act as a medium William had no ability. Margaret stood up from the ground, dusting off her dress. “Now that is better, buttercup. Looks like I will have to teach that behavior out of you. Now…”
Margaret snapped her fingers and a few of the employees of the guild came running and restrained the shocked and horrified William then and there, cuffs were placed on his hands. Margaret strutted forward and grabbed William’s chin, her fingers digging uncomfortably into his skin. She looked him over and sighed. “Seems like we have some work to do. Come along now.”
With that the guild men began dragging William along. Emma was dragged to stand up by Nathaniel’s harsh hand on her arm, her own wrists, restrained by his ability. They were lead up onto the deck of the ship, then Nathaniel saw something, he took Emma’s hand and roughly snagged off the wedding ring she wore. Emma’s eyes grew in horror as she watched Nathaniel throw it over the edge of the ship, into the waters of the sea. Emma was stunned into horrified silence. Soon Margaret did the same with William who was just as horrified as his wife as he watched his wedding band fall over the edge, lost to the water. A tear fell down his face as William spoke, it was a line from a show he had been in, one that Emma knew well “What angel shall bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive, unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear and loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath of greatest justice.”
Silent tears fell down Emma’s face as she heard this, and the two lovers were separated, looking over their shoulders to one another till they were out of view.
—————————
Emma was taken to Nathaniel’s room where had a bath drawn for her. He make her undress in front of him as to make sure sure was not hiding anything from him in her clothes, which were then taken from her because they were in his words, “inappropriate for the darling of a preacher.” He also ‘helped’ her bathe, this help in reality was harsh scrubbing to move sure she had not an inch of makeup on her skin, and scratching at her hair to get the unnatural curls and hairspray out that she had done this morning. It felt dehumanizing.
After all this, she was given a white bathrobe to wear while he had some of the guild men pick up some other clothes for her, it was comfortable and at least covered her body so that she may retain some of her dignity. Now she sat on Nathaniel’s bed while he combed out her damp hair. She did not speak to him while he made slight comments here and there about how wearing makeup conceals the natural beauty god has given you, or how she had been blinded by Miss Austen’s delusions.
“How did you know that we would come?” Emma broke he silence as Nathaniel took a ribbon to tie up her hair.
“One moment. Stay still.” He said as he was pulling up her hair tightly together as he began to wrap the hair up. The two sat in silence while he tied up her hair to keep it out of her face before he stood up and walked over to the dresser in the room and took the letter he had set on top of it and handed it to her. With shaking hands she took it and opened it and it read
Dear Sir and Madam,
I hope that this letter finds you in the best of health. At the risk of sounding presumptuous, I wish to inform you of the assets we are about to give you from an organization you may be familiar, the Society of Protection, or simply known as the Society. The full list of these aforementioned assets are as followed. First, the life of one Emma Orczy, second the life of one William Shakespeare, and third the Society escape strategy which is found with both Miss Orczy and Mr. Shakespeare. They will staking out in one of the nearby warehouses by the time you receive this letter, under the false truth that the Port Mafia is going to attack your luxury liner. I tell you this because we know that this “secret” organization will be just as much a thorn in our side as yours.
Sincerely, boss of the Port Mafia,
Ougai Mori
As Emma finished, Nathaniel took the vial of purple liquid from Lewis Carroll that Emma had tucked away in her dress and spun it around, looking it over. She looked up in horror as she then watched him open the cork, walk over to the window and pour it out. “We’ll be having none of that because I can only assume that was the escape strategy he was referring to, yes?”
Emma could only nod as she choked on a sob as tears welled up in her eyes as she realized there was no hope of getting out of this damned place. She could only watch out the window as the luxury liner set out into the sea.
—————————
As the ship set off into the sea a figure watched from the port. It was a young man dressed in a black coat that matched his hair, well most of it since the tips of it has gone white. With no expression he watched the ship get farther and farther from the port. He pulled out a phone from his coat and dialed a number. The person answered…
“It’s done.”
“Wonderful, those two are quite large threats to our organization, that whole society as a whole is but those two specifically have skills beyond just their abilities that could destroy us.” The voice… the doctor… but of course you had no idea this conversation was even happening.
“Yes, but there was one more person with them, a young woman. I believe she went by (Name). She got away, but I don’t think she has an ability.”
“Ahhh so the flower shop girl is a member of the society? How interesting. That explains why our spies haven’t seen her at work for the last few days. Looks like the Society has a new player entering this game.”
—————————
You had made it back to the apartment complex in one piece, rushing to Miss Jane’s side and explained everything between tearful sobs. Miss Jane held you in an embrace almost like a mother’s as you cried, reassuring you that this wasn’t your fault and how it was her mistake for falling into a trap.
“Why don’t you go take a bath and you can relax for tonight.” Miss Jane smiled and stood up. “I’ll have Joan bring a pot of tea to your room for you after.”
“Thank you, Miss Jane.” You said, wiping away the last of your tears. “Thanks for everything.”
“You’re welcome (Name), now I have a meeting with Gaston. I will be back in a while.” You watched as Miss Joan walked off into the front entry, saying a few words to Joan and then opening the door and stepping off into the hallway and down to Gaston’s apartment. You sighed and went off the the bathroom to relax for a bit. Meanwhile Miss Jane went off to Gaston’s apartment and knocked on the door. Soon Gaston answered to see Miss Jane, tears falling down her face but still standing tall. “Can I come in, old friend?”
Gaston’s eyes widened and let Miss Jane in and walked her over to his couch and once the two of them sat down she started sobbing in Gaston’s arms. He held her in his arms, like that of an older brother holding his little sister. Her wales echoed off the halls and her voice sounded like she was just stabbed in the heart. Gaston knew she would come, he already had a hunch that something like this would happen as soon as the society received word about the guild, but it still hurt. Miss Jane offered you comfort and now she needed it. The society was like her family, her kids, and when her kids get hurt, this mother gets hurt.
Gaston held Miss Jane until she eventually cried herself to sleep, he called Alexandre over to carry Miss Jane back to her apartment and tucked her back in bed. On their way out they heard your voice. “Alexandre, Gaston, is Miss Jane alright?”
The two men looked at each other, unsure how to answer. Gaston sighed and spoke up, shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid not. She… she has been a lot. Fitzgerald is probably going to throw more low punches, trying to knock the wind out of Miss Jane’s sails, until she gives up.” Gaston sighs and jams his hands in his pockets. “Look I’m gonna go for walk, might get a drink, I just need to get out of here for a bit.” Gaston turned his back on the two of you, his mood completely different from the Gaston you first met, it’s almost like the life has left his body. “Don’t worry I won’t get drunk.”
You walked Gaston leave the apartment leaving you and Alexandre in the dark apartment, only lit by the mood light. Alexandre looked out the window and out over the city streets before the two of you. “The Guild has really knocked Gaston down, I haven’t seen him like this in a long time.” You looked over at Alexandre with a curious expression and saw his face completely serious, but his blue eyes dazzled in the moon light like sapphires. “Last time I saw him like this was three years ago, I was sixteen, and just lost everything to my name. My money, family, friends. Miss Jane took me in and at the time Gaston was helping the European Union hunt down a man, a mad genius, his mind rivaled Gaston’s and they were running circles around each other. Then the man got away and Gaston couldn’t live with himself, he stopped his work in the Society and focused only on his music… he almost lost himself.”
“What was the man’s name?”
“Gaston never actually met him, he was always just out of reach but from what Gaston told me his name was…” Alexandre looked from the moonlit sky over to you, his dazzling blue eyes making contact with yours. “ Fyodor Dostoevsky”
The name itself sent shivers down your spine, what if this work leads you to one day face Gaston’s old foe? You pushed that thought aside and continued on your conversation. “You also said Miss Jane took you in, are you like her son?”
“Kinda, she is my adoptive mother on paper. When she first came back to Europe after her divorce she came with Dr. Stevenson to an orphanage cause they heard a gifted child was there. Me.” He paused and lead you down the hallway to a room you have never been to before, Miss Jane’s study. It’s what you would expect from this place, beautiful, but on the fireplace stood a large portrait, it was of Miss Jane with a younger looking Alexandre by her side. “She was the first real support I had after loosing everything and over the course of the next year she helped me get it back from the dirt up. I reclaimed my family’s land, fortune, and title, I am the Count of Montecristo. Miss Jane’s and my relationship is the Society’s best kept secret, not everyone in this building knows about it, only me, Miss Jane, Gaston, Victor, Dr. Stevenson, and now you.”
“I see, but why are you telling me this?”
He looked at you with a smile and placed his hand atop your shoulder. “Cause I trust you, you are taking back what is yours just like I did, I see myself in you. Along with that Miss Jane trusts you, and I trust Miss Jane more than anyone on this damn planet.” He sighs and pats you on the head with a smile and an eye roll. “Miss Jane taught me when you compare the sorrows of real life to the pleasures of the imaginary one, you will never want to live again, only to dream forever. The things is that people like us can’t dream so that we only know this world of sorrows, my hope is that one day we can have the freedom to dream once more and shape this work so that we’ll want to live again and dream both in the day and at night. If I had a dream that would be it.”
“I see, I think I’d like that.” You said smiling, looking right into Alexandre’s blue, sapphire like, eyes. “I think I’d like to help you make that dream a reality.”
“Good cause we’ll need all the help we can get.” He smiled and gave you one more pat on the head. “Training starts at 7:30 tomorrow morning, if you want a better future you need to be able to fight for it. I mean that both literally and figuratively.”
—————————
Gaston had made his way to the streets of Yokohama, to the train station taking the train to Ginza, Tokyo, now he finds himself at a bar, Bar Lupin. It was an odd place, in a basement, no windows, and a strange cat lurking nearby. Gaston ordered a whiskey, he usually drank while he composed, a glass on wine while he writes music notes. He was all alone in this room besides the bartender and the cat, the underground design of the place reminded Gaston of the vault of the Paris Opera House, oh how he missed that place, it was home to him.
Gaston heard the door open and someone came and sat down at the bar, next to Gaston. “Didn’t think you would be here, composer.” Gaston knew that voice, it was Dazai. “Haven’t seen your flower friend since she stopped at the detective agency, heard from her boss that she quit after her apartment was broken into.” Gaston smirks and raised his glass to his lips as Dazai spoke, just listening to him. “I also found out about your work with the European Union but still haven’t figured out your ability.”
“I figured.” Gaston said setting the glass down, now empty. Gaston glanced over to Dazai with a wide smile. “Sad your agency didn’t look into the break in, I suggested to (Name), just to help you bunch with what comes next.”
“Hm? What are you on about, darling.”
“Va te faire enculer.” Gaston swore at Dazai in his native tongue and sneered at that nickname and rolled his eyes. “Thought you would have picked it up by now.” Gaston set the payment on the counter for the bartender to collect and slipped off his jacket from the back of the chair. “I’ll let you put it together, my work for the European Union, that apartment break in, Miss (Name) leaving her job…”
“…You mean-“
“Yes, I do.” Gaston said as he stood up and slipped on his jacket and began making his way to the door of the bar, glancing over his shoulder to look at Dazai. “The demon Fyodor Dostoevsky, is in Yokohama.”
(A/N- Va te faire enculer- go fuck yourself)
#yandere bungo stray dogs x reader#yandere bungou stray dogs#yandere bsd#original character x reader#bungou stray dogs oc#bungou stray dogs#bungou stray dogs x reader#yandere dazai#yandere chuuya#yandere mark twain#yandere mori ougai#yandere Fukuzawa#Yandere Edgar Allan Poe#Yandere John Steinbeck#yandere fyodor
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18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI
chapter 1
tags: @illiana-mystery, @cryptic-michael, @cassieuncaged
the next morning blaze and I met our stylists. Blaze was taken by the hand and lead away by the woman introduced to us as sin. I had snickered and earned a smack upside the head from Effie. Raising my eyebrow at her, I turned in time to see my stylist.
“hello. I’m fielding.” He said with a smile, revealing hot pink teeth. I furrowed my eyebrows but shook his hand anyway.
“(Y/N).” I said. I followed him to a new room where he had me strip. I laid out on the table while his team moved around me. “Is all of this really necessary?” I asked as they went about removing all the hair from my body.
“President snows orders kiddo.” Fielding said. “He wanted you made up as pretty as could be. No coal miners outfit for you.” I frowned. Everyone knew district 12 wore coal miners uniforms for the parade of tributes. Something was wrong this year.
“why not?” I asked as the team left the room and I was finally allowed to sit up. Fielding looked at me softly.
“Honey, don’t you get what’s going on?” He asked. I shook my head. “President snow has taken a liking to you. He picks one every year. His special tribute. They are the one that usually comes out on top of the betting pool. They don’t always survive the games but by god do they make it pretty far.” I gulped.
“why me?” I asked. Fielding looked at me sympathetically.
“we never know. It’s usually girls. Sometimes boys. Not always the prettiest. But sometimes they could almost pass for capitol. Best to ride along with it and hope you make it out.” Fielding said. I nodded and he moved to style my hair.
“he does this every year?” I asked. Fielding hummed in agreement. “Does he meet the tributes every year?” Fielding paused.
“what?” He asked. I turned to look at him.
“president snow met blaze and I at the tribute tower last night. He kept staring at me.” I explained. Fielding looked over my head before looking back at me.
“I’m going to give you some free advice (Y/N).” Fielding said before turning my head back and finishing my hair. He walked in front of me and grabbed my hands. “And you listen good. Whatever he offers you, take it. He wants to parade you around, do it. If president snow wants to take you to bed, go and find a way to enjoy yourself.” I stared at fielding in shock. “What I’m saying is give that man anything he wants and you just might make it out alive.” I nodded slowly. “Good girl.” Fielding started doing my makeup in silence.
“fielding?” I asked. He hummed in response. “What’s he like? Snow.” Fielding thought for a second.
“he’s alright. Grew up during the war. Mentored during the tenth hunger games. Won because he cheated. Served as a peace keeper in twelve. Came back and worked his way through the hierarchy. Game maker and then president. All by the time he was 20. He’s been president since he was 25. Nine years now.” Fielding listed off. “From what I’ve heard, he’s jaded. Doesn’t trust many people. And I know he’s killed before. No one talks about it really but he’s got his own demons he fights with.”
“sounds like he understands the districts better than any president before him.” I said after a while. “The victors village. The tribute tower. All the pomp and circumstance.” I shrugged as fielding took a step back and held out his hand to help me off the table. “It’s like he wants to remind the districts what they could have but also show them that the captiol could help them if they really wanted it.” Fielding nodded.
“he’s smart. That’s for sure.” He agreed. “Now into the dress you go and we’ll get you all set up in the carriage.” I nodded and put on the bright organge dress that fielding was holding out for me. He zipped me up and led me down to where blaze waited for me in the carriage.
“what the fuck did they do to you?” Blaze asked softly as the carriages got into position.
“courtesy of president snow.” I whispered as they pulled out onto the Main Street. “Apparently he’s taken a liking to me.” Blaze looked me over with a frown. “Who knows. Maybe it’ll help us get through this.” Blaze nodded.
“let’s hope so.” We stood up as the people of the capitol came into view. I started to wave as people cheered for us. “Let’s hope something good comes out of all this.”
“I doubt it. But there could be worse things happening with snow.” One kid fell through the barricade and into the path of the carriage. “Oh fuck.” We looked at each other and nodded. Blaze grabbed the reigns but I knew we wouldn’t stop in time. Looking up, I saw president snow watching me carefully.
Gritting my teeth, I grabbed my dress and ripped it. I threw the fabric to the wind and jumped off the carriage. I rolled across the asphalt and pushed myself up. I took off running and tackled the kid, forcing him to the side of the carriage. I covered his head as dust and dirt kicked up around us when the carriage barreled by. I looked the kid over and sighed in relief. I gently pushed him in the direction of the peacemakers that were making their way over to us before taking off running again, leaving behind my shoes. There was cheering as I gained on the carriage. Blaze offered a hand and I grabbed it, using the momentum to pull myself back into the carriage. I looked back up as I pushed my hair out of my face. President snow was clapping and I bowed as he started to smile.
“if anything that just bought us some love.” Blaze said. I smiled as I continued to look at president snow.
“it sure bought me his full attention.” I said. Blaze looked over and nodded. “Hoist me up. I’m going to do something reckless.” Blaze frowned but grabbed my hand and helped me climb onto his shoulders. We turned the corner and I grabbed his head to steady myself. “Sorry.” Blaze grunted in understanding. “When we reach the podium, help me over.”
“ok.” Blaze said. “Why?” I smiled wickedly.
“I’m going to kiss his cheek.” I said. I could hear blazes breath hitch but it was too late for him to say anything. We slowed down as we came to the podium. Blaze forced me up but he put too much force behind it, making me tumble off his shoulders. I twisted and somersaulted onto the podium, throwing myself to my feet in front of president snow. “President snow sir.” I said with a smile. Walking over, I leaned down and kissed his cheek. He watched me carefully while smiling at me.
“that was quite a show my dear.” I shrugged.
“the alternative was to run him over sir.” I said. “And I don’t think that would have made us very favorable to the people of the capitol.” President snow nodded. “And if you mean this, well it wasn’t the plan. But accidents happen. Or so my mother tells me.” President snow raised an eyebrow.
“What was the plan?” He asked, raising a hand to stop the peacemakers from grabbing me.
“lean over, kiss your cheek, and be on my merry way.” I joked. “But it appears my ride has taken off without me.” President snow stood and offered me his hand. I took it and let him pull me to the front. He raised my hand in his and the streets erupted in cheers.
“they love you sweetheart. Keep this up and you just might capture their wallets.”
#kiefer sutherland#kiefer sutherland imagine#kiefer sutherland fanfiction#kiefer sutherland fanfic#Kiefer Sutherland x reader#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow fanfic#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow x reader#The falling of snow#The falling of snow series
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Fault | Yunho [Pt.2]
「Synopsis」 : Yunho Knew he was an idiot but was apologising to you going to be enough to get back the friendship he ruined?
「Word count」 : 2.5k
-> Genre: Angst, (Happy ending I swear)
Paring: Bestfriend!Yunho x GN!Reader
[Warnings] : A whole lot of tears, Insecurities, Mentions of cheating, if i missed something let me know
Note : Hi!! SO MANY OF YOU WANTED THIS! It's crazy this (and another series I'm doing eheh) have been my most requested. So I do hope you all enjoy this ♡♡
Part one
[REBLOG AND COMMENT FEEDBACK]
You thought the months being without Yunho were rough but the lone month after walking out on him at the dorm was torture. All your brain could think about was him. Every little detail of your life was designed and painfully filled with memories of him. You haven’t heard from him since that night, nor have you heard anything from his brothers either. It was like you were cut out completely, making you feel even more alone. Well except for one person. San. He was determined to check on you every day.
It became a routine throughout the month. Good morning texts, have you eaten or made sure to drink water. He rarely spoke about Yunho, and neither did you bring him up. He knew you were hurt because of him. But Like you, Yunho was hurt as well. He became mopey, avoiding everyone, not eating. Everything that you were doing he was doing. But you were slowly becoming better while he was just getting worse as the days went.
He fought with his fiance. Finding out she was not only cheating, but trying to bleed him dry for his money. News for her was his brothers cut her out before she could make him worse. He moved back into the dorms. But never left his room. The others were beginning to worry for him. And that’s what led to San, showing up. Slowly, and carefully into your life. Making sure you were okay before asking the big question.
“Hey, Do you know where San is?” Wooyoung purposely spoke in front of Yunho’s room, trying to get the male's attention. Maybe even drawing him out of his room.
“Hmm, I don’t know. The last time I saw him he was getting ready to go see y/n.” That’s it, Hongjoong spoke your name. Will that bring Yunho out? Before Wooyoung could speak again, the miracle happened.
“Why is he with them?” Yunho’s voice is groggy from not talking for so long. Luckily he did shower when everyone was asleep so he isn’t dirty, but he still looks it.
“San and y/n have been hanging out for a little bit now.” Wooyoung poked the bear with his words, viability seeing Yunho tense. All the members knew of his crush but none of them spoke up but now that he has royally and truly fucked up, they feel the need to push it. And since soft, careful pushing doesn’t seem to help, what about the latter?
Jealousy
“San!!” You scream, laughing as San tried to shield your view with his head. But you managed to snake your body away from him, until you jumped forward onto his lap, turning the tables in order to distract him. The finish line nearing, San leans on you, intensely staring at the screen trying his best to win. But to his surprise, you cross before him, taking his place as victor.
“HA! I WON!!” You cheer, turning onto your back while still laying on San's lap. He just laughed at you, looking like a kid, smiling widely. A smile he has been trying to get you to do for the past month. A real smile.
“Well, I guess I’m paying for food.” He laughs looking down at you. You suddenly stopped mid-laugh, your eyes growing big with glee. He leaned his head on the back of the couch as you jumped for your phone, throwing it to him making him fake wince in pain.
“Okay okay, what am I getti—” San’s voice softens as his mind travels off before his mouth could keep up. He sees your background on your phone. It was a picture of Yunho and you at the winter festival. It was the last time you saw Yunho before he disappeared. You were so happy. You were secretly planning to tell him that night, that you were in love with him. But when the time came and you asked him to meet you in the snowflake garden he never showed. It broke your heart and what was worse, San and all the members were there too. They saw your disappointment, your heartbreak. You left soon after that not bothering to say goodbye to the others. All they could do was watch as you walked away, lump in your throat and tears pouring down your cheeks.
“San? Are you okay?” You lent over looking at your phone screen to see what San got caught up looking at but you fell silent once you saw what it was. “Oh…That I… I ju—” Your sentence got entangled in your throat as a knock at your door echoed into the room. San and you both looked confused not expecting someone to be there. San immediately got up walking over with your phone still clutched into his hands. You follow him closely, gripping onto his shirt as he stopped at the front door.
“Yunho?” San's voice was snarky, surprised to say the least gripping your phone tightly. You hid your body behind San’s gripping him tighter as your heart starts to race. You’re shaking, scared. Why was he here, what did he want from you?
“San.” His voice was blunt, cutting through the tension in the air. You gulp down a ball of saliva, scared to even hear his voice. Yunho removed his anger-filled gaze from San to you, tilting his head slightly so he could see you hugging your face into San’s shirt. His anger rose, seeing you so close to San, like how he was with you before all this happened. Deep down he knew he had no right to be angry and no right to even be at your front door. This was his mess, but knowing you and San were hanging out, sparked something in him. Something feral.
Overthinking clouded his judgement. What if you were snuggling while watching a movie, just like how you and he would do whenever he was over. Or those knowing glances you would have with each other, he was so madly in love with you that he would crave to just trap you against the couch cushions and kiss you until his lips bled. He didn’t want San to have those feelings, to think what he thought. He didn’t want you to move from those memories and create new ones with another. He wants to be selfish with you. Have you all to himself, but he fucked up so much, that he is unsure how to gain you back.
The silence was clear that Yunho was here for you and only you, making San sigh in annoyance. He knew Wooyoung and the others were setting up this plan to see if they can get Yunho to finally at least try and apologies. You didn’t know of the plan but you were aware of him being back with the boys. San would bring him up every now and then, trying to see if you were interested in talking about him. You kept brushing it off, so San was always unsure about going ahead with this plan, not wanting to put you in a difficult situation.
“ I just remembered I got a text before…” San turned around so he could face his body to you. The grip on his shirt you had, now moved to you holding his arm tight. Your eyes were wide and glossy. They were filled with fear. You didn’t want him to leave you, not alone with him…
“Sannie please…” Your voice is croaked. A weak whisper is the only thing you can muster. You pleaded with wide doe eyes that fear to break into tears in any moment. Yunho internally cringed at the nickname you gave San. It was a cute name, something you and he would do for one another. He was YuYu and you were Tiny. No one else had a nickname, it was his and your thing, no one else. Guess what just another thing he fucked up on.
“If anything happens, and you need me. Call. But please…” He leans down to your ear so he could whisper his last words without Yunho hearing, causing the other male to become even more angry, feeling his blood boil with jealousy. Your eyes widen at his words, before nodding in response. San handed your phone back with a smile before turning to head out.
“Yunho,” Was the only thing he said to him before leaving your apartment, leaving you with him…
You didn’t speak, instead turning around and walking back into your apartment, heading towards the lounge room to clean up. Yunho invited himself in with your silence, walking soon after you once he removed his shoes. You sat down on the couch letting a sigh out before retching for a controller to switch the game off. Yunho watched you intensely, waiting for a moment to speak but worried about what might come out.
“Tiny I—Don’t call me that.” You cut him off sounding harsh, venom laced in your voice. He gulped, feeling tears gloss over his eyes. He stared down at the ground, choosing to let you talk first instead.
“First you stood me up at the festival, leave me wondering what I did wrong. Spent months trying to get a hold of you, thinking you might be dead. If it wasn’t for Seonghwa telling me that you called them I would have started a search party for you. Second, you come back with a fiance and break my heart all over again. Then I spend a month with San trying his hardest to be buddies with me but he is a terrible liar and so are the others and all they wanted from me was to talk to you again.” You stood up, facing him. Tears were running down your red cheeks but you gave up caring for tears. Yunho was also crying, looking at you with guilt smacked on his face.
“Why should I be the one to ask for you back? Was it all just a game? Was our friendship even real?” when you said that Yunho broke down, walking towards you, gripping your shoulders. You tried to push him off you but his firm grasp was no match.
“Please, Please don’t say that.” His voice croaked, saliva spitting out while hot tears smear on his face. He falls to his knees in front of you, hanging his head low. “Please, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t want any other this. I’m so fucking stupid. I didn’t deserve someone like you, and I still don’t. But please. Please don’t think our friendship was anything but real.” He let out a sniffle, looking up at you with glossy eyes.
“You are my best friend.” Now it was your turn to burst into tears, hearing his words. You didn’t want to forgive him or even hear him out, but your heart is aching to just know his side of the story.
“Fine Yunho tell me… Why?” You whispered. You sat down on the couch while Yunho stayed on the floor, placing his hands on your knees before starting his side of all this. Turns out Wooyoung made a joke that night at the festival that Yunho should confess to you, and Yeosang remarked saying if you didn’t like him back that could ruin your friendship, and it scared him so he ran off. But what he didn’t expect was to run into his now ex-fiance while he was running. He offered to take her home cause of literally running into her and one thing lead to another she confessed and in his stupid mind, he thought this was fate giving him a way out. A way out to not ruin his friendship with you and to finally get rid of the feelings he has burred. But all it didn’t was make him realize how much love he had for you but by then it was too late. His ex made sure to only focus on her and so he didn’t see, speak or hear from you or any of his brothers. He was stupid., drunken by the hope of finally being able to make everyone happy but all he did was make it worse.
“I went home about a month ago to find her with someone else. I left and went back to the dorms and been there since. I’m so sorry y/n. I don’t expect you to forgive me or even see me as anything other than a friend but I am seriously stupid.” He looked down, pouring his heart out to you, crying his eyes out. Your silence was killing him. He didn’t know what you were thinking of but god sometimes he wishes he could read minds.
“Tiny…” You whisper making him look up at you confused.
“W-what?” He tilted his head.
“It’s Tiny to you Mr.” You smile through your tears, making his heart jump. Hugging your legs his head rests on your lap. You were going to forgive him but he needed to work for it. You can't live without him any longer but that doesn’t mean he is off the hook.
“You should just have told me, cause that night I was going to confess to you,” you said making Yunho sit straight up with a shocked expression.
“You were?” You nodded at his question making him whine, feeling even more like an idiot. Silence fell for a moment at you rubbed your fingers through his hair as he kept his head on your lap. He got up and sat next to you grabbing both of your hands he looks at you dead in the eyes.
“Tiny…W-would you doing me the honour of forgiving this idiot and let me take you on a date.” He asked running his thumbs on your palms. You pretend to think about it before saying a simple ‘yes’, making him tackle you in a tight hug, trapping you against the couch and his larger body. He was finally happy again and all he said to do was apologise. He is going to have to remember that just in case.
"By the way..." Yunho mumbles into your chest. "What did San say to you before he left?" You could help but chuckle at his words. Even though it wasn't necessary to tell him he was itching to know.
"What you jealous?" You laughed making him sit his head up, darting his eyes around the room.
"What!? No? I just I—Yuyu it's okay I'm just teasing." You cut his rambles off seeing his ears turn a bright, shade of pink.
"He said to give you a chance." You smile making Yunho grumble in annoyance. Of course, San was just trying to be a nice friend. He lays his head back down, holding you a little bit tighter, just in case. Cause in this moment he was never going to let you go.
-
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Behind Bars
Summary: After getting caught by the police at his most recent treasure hunt, Nate must confess his true life to you. What’ll happen when you find out? What’ll happen when he finds out about your most recent discovery as well?
Pairing: Nathan Drake x Reader
Warning: Cursing, Slight angst, Pregnancy?
Nathan found himself in quite the predicament on a hunt gone wrong. Police surrounding him pointing guns his way “Hands in the air where we can see them!” one shouted. Of course, he couldn’t fight off an entire team of armed men so Nate obliged, lifting his arms in defeat letting them search him. “We’re gonna get you out of there kid don’t worry, I’m gonna do my best.” Sully spoke over the earphone, stopping as a cop snatched it from Nates’ ear “You got a buddy?” He questioned crouching. Nate stayed silent making the cop shake his head, “If you were smart you’d give them up. Help yourself?” yet still Nate spoke of nothing as they tossed him into the back of a cop car. At this point he was glad Sully got away but afraid of how or what to tell you.
You and Nate had a lovely seven year relationship going on. You’d met him when he still tended the bar, not knowing much about his current job but you didn’t feel the need to question it, you trust Nate. Or well, trusted after answering a call from the police letting you know they had Nate and needed you to come in. What on earth could he have gotten arrested for? Day drinking and driving? He was supposed to be at work. Tossing on your shoes you headed straight to the station, maybe this was all just a big misunderstanding, and you were overthinking it. Nothing prepared you for what came out of Nate’s mouth as you sat down in front of him.
Nate decided to drop the bomb before the police could, thinking that maybe you’d like the news better from him. “I’m an explorer y/n. I find old treasure...” He blurted out, fiddling with his cuff against the table. You remained silent. “Sometimes to find said treasure I have to...to.” He sighed “Steal, and trespass and uh...you know, the works.” He spoke in less detail seeing your stunned face. The police had brought you a file on Nate which you flipped through wordlessly. “Now- now before you get mad or-” Nate began but your angry eyes jumping to meet his made him jump. “Before I get mad? oh Nathan don’t. Don’t, alright? You don’t get to decide what the fuck I feel right now. this is...this is fucked...” Your voice drifted again, things stayed silent for a while as you thought. ”Y/n, baby. Talk to me please?” the explorer swallowed heavily. He could see he was slowly losing you, your trust, your relationship. “All the trips, the late nights out. That was for this shit?” You asked raising a brow. Nate shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, “Sort of...Yes. Mostly.”. You chewed at your bottom lip “I thought we did all those things, went places because you wanted to...with me.” you stuttered out, eyes betraying you as they began to water. “I-I did want to do them with you! I just, happened to be doing other things too. But I swear, I swear I love you and I would’ve told you eventually I just didn’t want you hurt.” Nate begged wishing he could reach over and swipe the tears from under your glossy eyes.
You frowned nodding your head a little “Okay, Well that’s gone just great for you hasn’t it Nate.“ you spoke with a bit of Venom as you came to a realization. “It’s Sully isn’t it? They asked me if you had any close friends. I didn’t answer because I wanted to talk to you first. Victor’s the other guy.” You placed a hand against your forehead. “Yes. But you can’t tell anyone please! He’s gonna try and get me outta here when he can. One of us had to get out of there with the treasure.” Nate was finally honest. “So you went to jail, for Victor, and some gold?” You questioned, Nate scanning your face trying to gauge how he should answer. “....Yes?...Y/n it’s worth MILLIONS!” He whisper yelled the last part, “Think about what we could do with that, I promised you I’d always take care of you-” a groan from you made Nate stop. “I don’t care about Millions Nathan! I care about you, I want you, home with Us.” You placed a hand against your chest, heart beating frantically behind your ribs.
Nate furrowed his brows. “What do you mean us?” it was now his turn to ask a question. You shook your head “I can’t do this. We can’t do this.” You pointed between yourself and Nate avoiding his question. “Y/n don’t say that. Answer me.” He spoke sternly leaning forwards against the table trying to keep you calm. Hot tears started streaming down your face as Nate pressed a kiss to your forehead “I’m sorry.” He mumbled, feeling a tinge of hope as you leaned against him. “I’m not going to make you stay, that would be selfish of me.” He sighed clinking against his metal cuffs. “I- I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to leave you Nate, but-” You sniffled, “You’re an idiot... I love you.”. A buzzer warned you both that time was about to be up. “I love you too.” He smiled sadly as you stood. “Come see me sometime?” He couldn’t exactly stand since his ankle had been cuffed to his chair to keep him from running. “Of course.” You whimpered giving in to him like you always seem to do. Kissing his slightly chapped lips, you waved goodbye as an officer escorting you away. “What the fuck did she mean by us?” Nate slumped in his chair.
You drove home, pissed but determined. Pressing Sully’s contact in your phone, you figured he wouldn’t answer. To your surprise a throat cleared on the other side “Y/n...I’m sure you’re calling because of Nate?” He winced preparing to be yelled at. “No shit. Nate said you’d try to get him out?” You spoke sternly, pulling into your driveway, not really wanting to be at home with all of Nate’s things. “I said I’d try but they’ve got him pretty good, several felonies Isn’t exactly good y/n.” Sully sighed closing his eyes tightly. “You don’t understand Victor.” You couldn’t help the break in your voice, fingers tapping your steering wheel. “Don’t understand what? He’s in jail-” “I’m pregnant.” You sobbed, forehead settling where your fingers had been tapping. a hard swallow could be heard on the other end “Oh...Shit kid I-I’m sorry I had no idea- wait...did you tell Nate?” He asked scooping up his keys. “No. I couldn’t. How was I supposed to? He was cuffed to a chair Victor. Not exactly a peak Father moment don’t you think?” You huffed popping open your car door, heading inside.
“I’m coming to get you, you can stay with me as long as you’d like- If you’d like, I’ll help you until we can get him out. Again...if you want that?” He halted his movements, clicking his seatbelt waiting for your response. Did you want that? Sully was partially the reason Nate’s in prison, but you need someone, and if you were staying with Nate you might as well get to know his secret life. “Yeah...Yeah let’s do that.” You nodded grabbing out some luggage so you could pack. “Alright kid, be there in a few, push comes to shove we’ll being everything to my place. Nate’s not gonna be able to keep up with bills n’shit y’know?” He grumbled now understanding the stress of your situation, Nate had gotten the place for you both and decided that you could just stay home and work your hobby since he made so much. “Yeah, I know.” You blinked away a few stray tears packing your photo album to come along for now, that and a few of Nate’s sweats and shirts for comfort. You can always come back and get the rest. “I’m ready when you are.”
Alrighttt so I actually think I really like this one, anddddd I may make a second part if y’all are down? Anyways! I hope you enjoyed Loves! <3 -Snax
#nathan drake x reader#nathan drake imagine#nathan drake#tom holland#nathan drake x pregnant!reader#tom holland x pregnant!reader#uncharted 2022
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