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fae-morrigan · 1 month

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Sfjshhgfkl I saw the Sara/Talia anon and I'm losing my shit over potential stepbrothers Jay and Damian. I think for maximum comedy we should have Damian who is perfectly aware that his mother is beautiful because that's really just a factual matter and a weapon in her arsenal, and Jay who firmly believes his mom is awesome but has NO CLUE everyone thinks she's a MILF. He's one of those kids who goes 'what the hell do you mean my mom is hot' and then Jon, who has lived his entire life dealing with how badly so many people want to fuck one or both of his parents, has to pull his boyfriend aside and be like 'listen there is no good or kind way to inflict this kind of psychic damage but the internet found your mom's yearbook photos and now NakaMILFra is trending on twitter'. Jay discovers four new stages of grief on the spot. Then someone posts an old photo of Sara and Talia in their carefree and rebellious youth. Damian and Jay immediately call each other to scream DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS. They have no idea what the hell they're supposed to do with this information. Jay calls his mom because what the HELL and he's treated to a forty minute lecture about ways he can avoid Sara's mistakes with Talia being made with him and Jon (she adds that if Jon decides to dump Jay for a guy who's emotional constipation is so bad not even being that rich and that hot can make up for it, she'll key Jon's car for him. Apparently the possibility of angry Kryptonian has nothing on the knife throwing reality of angry Talia.) Jay has no idea what to do with any of the advice he's just received. Damian is now weighing his options on which couple to parent trap and he picks Sara/Talia for several truly logical reasons and the fact that Parousia-Gamorra has lots of really cool animals. He is nearly cheerful when he informs Jon of this, via Kryptonian hearing because Jay unplugged their router seconds after checking his socials. Jay has since been sitting on the kitchen floor, staring into a jar of Nutella like it's capable of producing the means to his salvation. Jon figures that Jay could probably do far worse step-mom wise than Talia purely because Talia will ensure that any attempts to call or carry out a hit on the Nakamuras end up dead in a ditch and Jon would like the reassurance that even when he's off planet someone is there to make the CIA cry. Of course she'll want to send her own agents to test Jay's reflexes probably but Jon's pretty sure Sara can talk her out of that. Talia being preoccupied ensuring her wife's country stays a free democracy and nobody succeeds in assassinating her wife or her stepson is by far the best plan anyone's come up with to keep Talia too occupied to be a supervillain and they all know it. Jon is torn between hating that this plan succeeding will make Jay a proxy member of the Batfamily, or preemptively buying popcorn because when Bruce tries to pull his emotionally incompetent helicopter parent bullshit Jay is going to make that man's life a living hell for as long as it takes him to realize that was a bad idea. Jay doesn't even find out about this plan until Damian has successfully tricked Saralia into a date and Damian throws Jon under the bus immediately. Jay is furious with Jon for not telling him ('you were barely past the psychic damage from twitter' is some bold hypocrisy from the guy who's going to end up paying off his therapist's mortgage) for about three days before Jon sits him down and lists the flat out pros and cons of this plan succeeding. 'Saralia cannot possibly be WORSE for each other than Brutalia' is on both lists. 'No dictator will be able to set up shop' is a compelling argument but what actually sells Jay on the whole thing is the knowledge that sleeping with Talia Al Ghul is going to be as strong a hitman deterrent for his mom as sleeping with a Kryptonian is for him. Bruce finds out about the plan several months after the three of them start working together and Jon gleefully sends him to voicemail every time he calls.

GOD PLEASE I DIDNT EVEN THINK ABOUT BRUCE. HE'D LOSE HIS FUCKING MIND. I do think the logical conclusion to this 'yes and' is like, Damian and Jon try and parent trap them, not realizing that like. This was no ordinary breakup. This was a TOXIC SAPPHICS IN THE LATE 80S breakup. Full Good Luck Babe by Chappell Roan. They act like they're DIVORCED. Jayjon and Damian are watching the date they set the two of them up on as a surprise like ;O_O

Its a mess. But more confusingly for the boys, like, Sara and Talia clearly still care a LOT about eachother, like Talia's showing up to defend Sara from western interference and Sara's lending her her top secret intel, but they WILL. NOT. GET. ALONG. Its an ACTIVE REFUSAL to let go of what happened in their past and move on from it. They'll be mid-fight with one of Waller's task forces and Sara will be like "REMEMBER THAT TIME YOU LEFT ME FOR A WHITE MAN?!" Sara's ranting to Jay when she gets home from their date that she CANT BELIEVE talia hasn't changed WHATSOEVER with her DUMB LONG HAIR and her BEAUTIFUL JASMINE PERFUME and Jay is just like

"Uhuh. Uhuh. Sure mom."

This is all extra funny if you consider the fact Damian canonically admires Jay's works and respects his opinion a lot. On the one hand, oh god he doesn't wanna think about his mom's love life. On the other.... an excuse to spend more time with Jay woooooo

I don't know if Sara and Talia would ever formally get back together again since I believe in my soul the both of them are too caught up in the torn and abandoned people they've become (since in this hypothetical, Sara's lost Jay's other mother, her late wife, and.... Talia's everything) but I think every once and awhile they share a cigarette on a rooftop after some shit goes down all lesbian-ly and theres this moment where they Wonder. They're each other's "one who got away" and they refuse to consider the alternative where they might've been happy.

Doesn't stop Jay and Damian from TRYING to make their moms talk to each other! Their biggest strategy is forcing the two women to coparent them by doing something extremely stupid

#In terms of the women Sara thinks I think she has a type that encompasses every woman shes ever been in a serious relationship with #And that is 'long haired combat expert revolutionary'#Yes this includes miss Osita of the revolutionaries as well #saratalia #jay nakamura #talia al ghul #sara nakamura #damian wayne

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rottingsparrow · 2 years

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Part 3!! Of rereading Lore Olympus. Episodes 21-30

⚠️Content Warning! This review contains the episode arc of Wolf in the Hen house, an arc ahout SA⚠️

So it seems to be better to post 10 at a time so that's what I'm gonna do, I'll try to post em daily since I usually read like 20 at a time but who knows.

Ep 21

Hermes lets gooo

Look naked persephone just in case you forgot that shes gorgeous

“Demeter sends her a lot of letters” didnt they not live near each other if not together what

Why does apollo introduce himself like that- oh i know bc rachel cant organically make someone bad shes gotta kinda force it /lh

Apollo is being a dick just let her talk like interrupting is a dick move and what he said obv

“Let me help you” “no thanks” yeah i mean she doesnt need help

Plus youre being a dick like

Ep 22

“Hes my brother” i dont care shes uncomfortable

Quick apollo make a comment about your sisters body so we know how much of a dick you are

Also why does she slip with the knife we dont see her and then ope she has a cut i feel like it couldve been done better

“Alot of blood” did you stab yourself wtf

I know they are gods but shes also the goddess of the hunt she should have stuff lying around for her or maybe animals

See the thing with apollo is he doesnt ask to do anything he just assumes its fine which is one thing but it feels like rachel hammers home the point so violently

“ let me help you!” use ur words king

“I dont have great control of my moods” get a therapist bestie

Also he has no reason to be overprotective he just met her what is it with men and becoming immediately attached to persephone

Cause shes so gorgeous and sweet and naive or whatever

which i think we should discuss the portrayal of her being naive and how it is a part of p*dophilic culture

Ep 23

Haha! I know you dont like this man so i will joke about it

Why is one eye golden bc he used his powers or

Stop grabbing her she just forgave you

Ur so uncomfortable around this man so none of us will pay any attention to you guys together

Are they watching carrie

Why. honestly just why

Ep 24

Hey uh just tw for sexual assault bc its that epsiode

“What time is it” “i came to see you” thats not an answer

Once again the he doesnt ask he just does

“Youve been flirting with me all day” has? She?

Like its gross and apollo is in the wrong but can we ask why we needed to see it, even part of it. Thats so intense

And also, how does it help the story. Genuinely. Did Rachel just do this bc persephone needed to explore her darker side i find it uncomfortable

She handles the topic fine but why was it necessary, i know its smth that happens but it feels so. forced into the story

I guess to get her out of the maidenhood thing but wouldnt it have been so nice to watch her make the decision on her own as a form of growth

Im glad we stop having to see it

I know why the pictures are used later but right now, why does he take pictures

Also its so weird that hes like “keep it between you and me” there isnt any reason for that other than like. Hes bad

Ep 25

Why did his name change for Aidoneus to Hades i dont know the stories that well

The shiny rocks are nice i wish we got to see his connections to gems more

I wish the titans looked more diff than the gods i know they are related but it would be cool

Why did Gaia say that he would destroy them

Vore :/

Glad hades has a therapist

Dog

Ep 26

i do like the fact that this episode is a call its nice

Omg they said the title

“Im the king of the underworld” ok and?? Anyone could tell shes crying

I like the small talk i know it doesnt move the story but its realistic

Hades hears her crying and is like. Im gonna bully you for it

Yeah its teasing and its cute if she wasnt already sad yknow

“Persephone why did you stop talking? I just completely called you out while you are upset”

Ep 27

Why was he in the mortal realm with minthe im curious

“It was different” rachel then retcons that and says it was a one time thing

It does sound like hes making fun of her

Her face and hermes proportions in that one panel oml

“I dont like talking about it” is a valid response persephone hades doesnt make you speak you just are very vocal

“The balance of power should always be in my favor” thank you rachel for showing why it is an unhealthy relationship

“I owe you question” never. Brought up again

Ep 28

“You dont get personal boundaries do you?” neither do you tf

Why do demeter and hades not like each other other than plot

“Working with someone doesnt mean youre compatible” works with minthe(and later works with persephone)

Why was demeter so intense to make her join maidenhood i know to protect her but like if she kept her with her she could be protected too right

Aw they fell asleep on the phone together

How did their phones not die tho

Ep 29

Oh wait look we see one dog that isnt the main three lets go

And hes wearing glasses its actually nice to be wrong

Artemis’ bangs are not long enough to pull into a bun oml

Ill say it: i hate how rachel portrayed zeus and heras marriage. Like they love each other and there couldve been a better way to do this then them arguing all the time

I know ive said it plenty of times but the lack of color consistency is annoying same goes for body types

So if he commands someone they have to do it or

Shes right tho he does whatever he wants

Hebe is cute

I do like how hera dresses

Ep 30

Hebe is so smart but like why let her be 8

Also let me see the other kids who is her sister that she is getting out of bed

“How about a test!” thats a terrible idea

New outfit!

“Persephone has big boobs” we know shes like supposed to be perfect or whatever

Imagine stopping aging at 19 gross also how does their aging work

“ i think ur depressed bc u arent challenged” hera. Stfu up

Also you cant say job and then have her be an intern

Also i know its just so they can be close to each other but god its so dumb

#anti lore olympus #lore olympus #my opinion #lore olympus critical #lo critical

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astraltrain · 3 years

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Tubbo Underscore has been pondering many questions lately. The one that plagues his mind the most is when all your siblings die, does that make you an only child?

Wilbur Soot was loud and bold around people he was comfortable with, and liked to set things on fire for the fun of it, and he had bruises on his fingertips that eventually turned into calluses from playing soft, self-made songs on his battered guitar. He enjoyed nature and the smell of petrichor in the air before and after it rained, and his favourite colour was yellow because of a fluffy jumper that he'd found for cheap at a clothes sale in the nearest village. He kept journals and wrote old fashioned letters to people he loved. When he was concentrating he'd stick his tongue out and hum in the most annoying manner, and he'd often be found in the kitchen cheekily eating raspberry jam out the jar with a kitchen knife.

Tommyinnit was loud and bold around everyone, and he never sat still and was always on the go, bouncing and running and pacing and spinning until he'd pass out from exhaustion or low blood pressure. He shouted curse words with the great delight of a child who'd just learned them for the first time, and for all his talk he couldn't flirt with girls for the life of him, a secret he'd made Tubbo swear to take to his grave. He was witty and quick and sharp of tongue and he always had a comeback, using words as a weapon. He liked to weave flower chains and sleep in patches of sunlight like a cat and sing softly to himself when he thought no one could hear, and he liked when people played with his hair, practically melting whenever someone's fingers traced his scalp until he drifted off.

Tubbo Underscore was the middle child, younger to Wilbur and older to Tommy. He was good with animals and got attached to them too easily, and he was even worse with romance than Tommy was, maybe due to never having as much of an interest in girls as his brothers. He was good at swimming and spent a lot of time at the lake where he and his family lived, testing how long he could hold his breath, and he let his hair grow long so it could be fluffy, and he'd often get Wilbur to read to him so he could sleep easier at night. He could memorize songs after hearing them once. He liked chess and space and bees and science and spent hours researching topics of increasing vagueness, rambling about them to anyone who would listen.

Tubbo Underscore doesn't know if both his brothers being dead makes him an only child. Does it work like that? Is he still a brother, or is he lying to himself? Can he still say he has family left? Maybe he should ask someone. He isn't sure who would know.

Ranboo visits one day; he's here all the time, practically lives in Snowchester, so it's no surprise to Tubbo. "Hey, Ranboo," he says to his partner on this day, because he can't keep the thought alone in his head anymore. "What does it mean for me now that all my brothers are dead?"

Ranboo's breath hitches, and Tubbo realizes he's worded this wrong. "Like, you know," he starts, trying to find a way to make this make sense anywhere other than his stupid brain. "Now that they're gone, am I still a brother? A middle child? Like, when referring to myself, do I say, "oh, I am the worst brother in all the universes," or do I say "I was the worst brother in all the universes?" What am I now without anyone left? No one ever tells you this shit. It doesn't make any fucking sense."

Ranboo hand brushes his shoulder, the touch grounding him. Tubbo won't admit that it feels nice. "I can't answer that question," admits the Enderman hybrid, soft so as not to startle him. "But I can tell you that you are not, and never were, a bad brother. Never. Because you're a good person and you've always done your best."

Tubbo knows he's talking shit because he's just lost his best friend and little brother and Ranboo feels bad for not knowing how to help. So he plays it up for the taller boy to keep him from guilt, smiling up at him too enthusiastically. "Thanks, Boo," he whispers, and leans against the boy for support as a gust of cold wind nearly knocks him off his feet. "That helps."

It doesn't help and he's sure they both know it. But Ranboo lets him pretend.

(link to this on ao3 cause i posted it months ago and it didn't get enough clout)

#tubbo #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #ranboo #dream smp #rei does write

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spiked-tea-writing · 3 years

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and they were roommates?!

SapnapxFem!Reader

Summary: Imagine being in love with your roommate, couldn't be you.

Pronouns: She/her

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n: I don’t watch or know anything, I just like these people and I had a concept. Also, he and Dream aren’t roommates in this for the sake of I can’t figure that out. Also also, my timeline is probably fucked but who cares

The dynamic in the apartment was...interesting to say the least

In the two years of living together, it had shifted a lot

In the beginning, you and Sapnap had been... less than cordial to each other

Both eighteen, fresh out of high school, off to college thinking that you knew everything.

There was lots of fighting, to say the least.

All of the “No it’s your turn to vacuum”, and “I swear to god Sapnap I will punt you halfway across the world if you eat my pineapple again”

The only reason you didn’t slit each other’s throats was that if the other person was dead, who would pay rent?

It was the summer before college started at the time, and you were working long hours minimum wage so coming]’/ home to an annoying prick caused a crap ton of conflict

After a few months of being little bitches to each other, y’all got piss drunk in the apartment and it all just sorta fell apart

Got that good drunk therapy, spilling your deepest secrets

(y’all were underage but shhh)

So by the time college started, the two of you had become actual friends and started enjoying each others company

A few months into the friendship, you encouraged him to post the video of “Minecraft, but it’s Raining Cats and Dogs” on a whim

Lmao little did you know what you had created (we’ll get to that later)

You mocked his train of thought constantly, laughing at the timing of it all.

“Ahhh yes, I am Sapnap, the genius who thought it’d be great to become a YouTuber while in my first year of college.”

He’d always just laugh and roll his eyes, playfully shoving you while stealing your chips.

The next few months were a haze of studying, work, and him.

It was truly a friendship of convenience since you guys were so busy, him starting his youtube career, and you working restaurants, then school on top of that, it was just easy to find friendship in your roommate.

Of course, he had his close friends which he spoke to over the internet, and you had your friends from back home, but as for college, it really was only him.

You guys had a fun time just hanging around the apartment, and it became so easy to be friends with him

And it WAS truly platonic (we’ll get back to that as well)

The best thing he brought to the friendship was his animals

You got on fabulously with Cash and the cats

They were all so cuddly and honestly loved you more than him lmao

You guys were just trying to get degrees and not be too stupid, was that too much to ask???

Well to a certain 2020, it was

The beginning of that year was great.

He was sorta realizing that he liked putting himself on social media, but on top of that, it seemed like a great start to a year.

February brought him to twitch, which you loved

You found it hilarious how he would just sorta play games and have people watch him live.

But you were incredibly supportive, as a friend, of course

He really liked it so, you tried to ignore the shouting at three am, and the loud anthems at night

Sure you’d give him hell in the morning, but why kill his fun?

March started great, as it was his birthday.

You got him a glittery lighter as a gag, but it was the perfect gift for a broke-ass college student

Then a certain pandemic came a-knockin’ on y’all’s door

It was a hard hit on both of you.

An executive decision was made that you two would stay put, but being away from your families was incredibly tough.

That spring was the birth of The SMP.

It brought him so much joy, which in turn made you happier.

The rest of the school year was a blur of zooms and test

Nick nearly killed you on multiple occasions when you made fun of the fact that he was learning computer science over the computer or made him help you figure out what the fuck zoom was since it was tangentially related to his major

“SAP HELP ME YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS ITS YOUR FUCKING MAJOR!!!”

“NO, IT’S- AHHHHHHHHH”

Yall got more than a handful of noise complaints shhhh

That summer was fill was spent trying to fill the time in weird ways

Note to self, he can’t cook (which you learned the hard way)

Yall spent so much time trying to cook and bake, then sweating off the calories working out with The Fitness Marshall lmao

As sucky as the situation was, that summer was so incredibly fun for the both of you, and truthfully the only arguments were about what music to blast

“Y/n I swear if I listen to Cosmicandy one more time I will drown you.”

“Well if I hear American Idiot one more time someone’s knee caps are getting harvested.”

(that argument was settled with Elton John.)

When school started up again that fall, something shifted

After a year of actual friendship, you guys were no longer just friends, and the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife

You had watched every single one of his streams since day one, but within 2 seconds of his Love or Host, you felt the need to hurl for some peculiar reason

It was bizarre because there was no way you could ever like him, of course not.

Within the apartment, you guys suddenly got a lot more touchy, but only because it was getting cold with winter and all that jazz.

It wasn’t because yall were secretly in love, what is this, a romcom?

The number of times you guys woke up on the couch, definitely not cuddling was too many to count

You started sitting in his room while he streamed, definitely not watching him with heart eyes because of how excited he got

He always had a pot of coffee full and a 6-pack of monster in the fridge since he knew you ran on spite and caffeine, and definitely not so that he could spend more time with you in the early hours of the morning.

The laundry started getting all mixed around, resulting in just sharing any sweats, hoodies, or socks.

The same thing went for food.

No longer was anything labeled with a name, if it was in the fridge, it was fair game (unless there was a post-it because come on, yall weren’t monsters)

But no, y’all were just roommates, not dating, lets make that clear.

Feelings? We don’t know her.

This entire time, his friends have had to hear about you rip.

But they got front row seats to your relationship development

“OMG my roommate is the worst she ate all of the frozen strawberries”

“Y/n kidnapped Storm all day while she studied and I thought I lost the fucking cat asjvdk”

“I had to run down and talk to the landlord because we dropped a pot of pasta sauce all over the carpet and couldn’t get the damn stain out.”

“She is so nice in preparation for a family dinner zoom, she ran out to the local Filipino food place and pick stuff up.”

“Sorry I’m late I overslept and didn’t want to wake up Y/n.”

They weren’t stupid, and could clearly see how whipped he was.

Dream and Geroge teased him about it constantly.

“Woah, calm down Sap, you should probably tell her you love her before you propose.”

“Yeah Dream’s right, it’s kinda weird that you’re living together before ever dating.”

He always flushed and denied it with a shake of his head.

He wasn’t into you, are they crazy?

Quackity and Karl messed with him in more unorthodox ways

There are a solid number of clips where they are fake crying over how he’s cheating on them, and even more tweets to match

It only got worse when you met them accidentally.

He was chatting post-stream on a video channel with George, Dream, Karl, and Quackity, and just his luck, you came into his room.

Like of all the times you could walk in, it was the time he was with his five closest friends but I digress

“Yo I got some extra tips yesterday so I picked up some extra Red Bull if you want to do one of your weird all-nighter streams.”

“Y/n I’m on channel.”

“Oh shit sorry my b. Catch.”

All the guys heard was a thud and a groan from Sapnap as the six-pack hit him in the chest.

Dream was the one to recognize your name.

“WAIT IS THAT Y/N I WANT TO MEET THEM!”

You could hear Dream’s voice through his headphones

“Sap… who is that?”

“No one. I’ll be out in a sec to help with dinner.”

You could hear a British voice come through.

“Oh so we are no one now, huh.”

Another voice piped through.

“Common... ¿Qué intentas ocultar?”

You cut in.

“Your headset it shit my guy. I can hear everything. I’m down to talk to them.”

He let out a groan.

“Fine. But you’re gonna have to do the dishes tonight.”

“Deal. Now move.”

“What? No.”

“Fine bitch.”

You collapsed onto his lap, plucking the headphones off of him.

“Hello, Sapnap’s friends. I am Y/n. A pleasure to meet y’all. Can you hear me?”

You heard a series of laughs through the headset, and a voice came through.

“Yes, we can see you too. I’m Karl, it’s so nice to finally meet his girlfriend.”

A blush rose on both of your faces, and another voice came through.

“Yeah, we’ve heard lots about you. Plus we can’t see your face in that picture Sap sent us. I’m Quackity”

That remark stopped your embarrassment in its tracks.

“What the fuck? How do you guys know me? I’m not even his girlfriend? And what picture?”

Sapnap grabbed your arm to calm you down as another voice cut in, but his one you recognized as his friend Dream.

“Hey, it’s okay. He just talks about you a bit, and the picture I believe was of you holding like three cats with like a red bull can on your head.”

“Jesus fucking christ why do they have that photo??”

He looked guilty but chuckled.

“Because that photo is a damn masterpiece.”

Karl’s voice came back in with a giggled.

“Soooo, Y/n we’d love to hear about you. Specifically anything funny or embarrassing that you have learned by living with him.”

Sapnap let out a groan from behind you as you went off.

“WELL lemme tell y’all, he has no cooking knowledge, well I mean, now he does, but one time, about a year ago, I had I been keeping a pot of water boiling for about an hour, soft boiling eggs, cooing noodles, blanching bok choy, etc. but this fucking genius is like ‘oH tHe HaNdLe Is StIcKiNg OuT. LeMmE mOvE iT wItH mY bArE hAnD.’ Needless to say, he burnt the crap outta his hand and kept the bag of frozen blueberries on it for the entire night. It took me like a solid five seconds to actually help him because I was laughing.”

By the time you had finished that story, you had seen Nick roll his eyes like 5 five times while the rest of the guys were wheezing.

“Yeah, well remember the time you were trying to imitate Rapunzel after we had watched it over Zoom with my sister, and you swung the edge of the frying pan into our head and got a nasty bump on it? At least I moved quick enough to put some ice on it.”

“Ice? It was the damn leftover Slushy that I had been freezing.”

“True, but you got to drink it after, so it was a win-win situation.”

“Sap, I had a bump the size of a golfball coming off of my temple. There was no winning.”

“Fine, you’re just making me sound like such a shit roommate.”

“No that’s not true, you do all of the talking to the landlord, and you at least tried to muffle the noise when you stream.”

“I guess that’s true, but you do like 80% of the cleaning.”

“Yeah but only because you’re working. Plus in the past 6 months, you’ve made coffee every morning, AND made sure I was taking my meds.”

“Those things aren’t that hard and I do it to make sure you don’t die because I lo- care about you.”

“What?”

You heard Dream’s wheeze laugh and remembered that you guys were still on call.

“Smooth.”

You both went red, and Sap moved his arm around you to leave the channel.

The next few moments were complete torture, the two of you just sitting in silence.

You were wondering if he meant what he was about to say and he was scared that you had heard it.

He was the one to break the silence. (mind you you’re still sitting on his lap lmao)

“I’m sorry about that.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. Should you ask him if he meant it? Because that wouldn’t be that bad. Or just pretend it never happened. Nah that’d be hella awkward. Or-

“I love you too.”

“You what?”

Wow, okay your brain is being a little bitch rn, but fuck it. Balls to the walls baby.

“I love you, and I have for a while now. I just want you to know.”

You finally looked him in the eye, and he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Thank god. I love you, and nearly fucking told you for the first time in front of my friends accidentally. Damn, I’m smooth.”

You laughed and he smiled wider.

“Can I kiss you?”

After a quick nod he swooped in and holy hell his lips felt great. His arm wound around your waist and your hands made their way to his jaw as he pulled you closer to him.

The only thing playing in your mind was “and they were roommates”

#sapnap x reader #sapnap #sapnapxreader #sapnap fluff #sapnap fanfic #sapnap fanfiction #sapnap x you #sapnap x y/n

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years

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Can you do actress reader x Tom Holland where the reader has a celebrity crush on Ryan Reynolds and fangirls over him and tom gets jealous?

Reynolds

Pairing: Tom Holland x actress!reader

Synopsis: your obsession with Ryan Reynolds has Tom feeling insecure

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

“Where’s Tom?” You read one of the comments on your Instagram live as you played with the strings of Toms Punisher hoodie. “Toms at a meeting but if I timed it correctly he should be eating lunch right about now.”

For the record, you had timed it correctly. Tom was in a quiet cafe, eating the lunch you packed him with a content smile while he watched your Instagram live. Tom continued to eat his food as you answered more innocent questions.

“What are you doing now?” You read another comment.

“Probably reading.” Tom thought to himself.

“I was just reading. Reading and waiting for Tommy to come home. What’s your favorite color?” You read a commenters question.

“Pink.” Tom said out loud as he munched a baby carrot.

“Pink.” You nodded. “I’ve always loved pink. What’s your favorite animal?”

“Dog.” Tom smiled knowingly, feeling like he was acing a test.

“Dogs.” You stated with a happy smile. “Like my baby Tessa. What’s your favorite food?”

“My baby loves ice cream.” Tom said in a sing song voice. He moved back and forth in his chair, blushing at how cute you were in his hoodie. He wished he could be back at home with you, eating your favorite ice cream.

“I love ice cream. I don’t know if that counts as a food but it’s my favorite so.” You shrugged, your eyes darting up and down as you read the comments. “Who’s your favorite actor. That’s easy.”

“Tom Holland.” Tom said, keeping a mental score of all his points for answering questions correctly.

“Ryan Reynolds.” You answered. A sly smile appeared on your face. “Have you guys seen Deadpool?”

Tom sat back in surprise as you got into a discussion with your followers about Deadpool. Since when did you like Ryan Reynolds? And why was he your favorite actor when your own boyfriend was an actor? Tom felt a twinge of jealousy bubble up in his tummy. He had a weird relationship with Ryan Reynolds. They had never met, but were friendly on Instagram and Twitter. Both men liked to feed into the Spider-Man/Deadpool fantasy that fans had created online. There was the back and forth teasing of each other, Jake Gyllenhaal, and Hugh Jackman that Tom always found funny.

Until now.

Until he discovered his girlfriends love for another actor.

Tom pushed it from his mind. He convinced himself he was just being insecure over nothing. He knew you loved his acting. You probably just said Ryan was your favorite actor because saying Tom would be too obvious.

It had completely slipped his mind until a month later, when you and him were doing a couples video for Buzzfeed. It was like The Newlywed Game, despite not being married. You and Tom were tied as the interview started to dwindle down.

“What is Toms go-to activity on a day off?” The interviewer asked. You and Tom immediately got to writing on your white boards.

“Whenever you’re ready.” The interviewer said. You flipped your board around with confidence.

“I said golf.” You said, looking at Tom while you waited for him to flip his board. Toms face lit up as he held his board up to the camera.

“Golf!” He exclaimed, never failing to get excited when you got the right answer. “You got it right.” He high fived you before closing his fingers around yours and kissing your hand. “Good job, love.”

“This is too easy.” You said smugly. You knew your boyfriend too well.

“And, last question, who is Y/n’s celebrity crush?”

“Oh, duh.” Tom scoffed, gesturing to himself with a suave smirk on his face. You didn’t catch his reaction, as you were busy writing down your answer.

“Ready?” The interviewer asked.

“Yep.” Tom said confidently as he held up his board to the camera. “Me” was written on it in his messy handwriting. You peaked at his board and laughed.

“Oh.” You said, flipping your own board around. “I said Ryan Reynolds.”

Tom felt genuinely shocked at your answer, even looking at your board for confirmation.

“What?” He asked, looking between you and the board as you laughed. “I thought I was your celebrity crush.”

“You can’t be my crush if you’re my boyfriend.” You teased, not registering his reaction as serious.

“Yes I can.” Tom defended, feeling uneasy with your answer. “I didn’t even know you liked him like that.”

Him being your favorite actor was one thing. Now you had a crush on him too?

“Are you kidding? I’m crazy about him.” You said as you brushed some hair out of your face. “I thought you knew that.”

“I didn’t.” Tom said through gritted teeth. Crazy about Ryan Reynolds? You didn’t even know the guy.

“I never told you?” You asked and Tom shook his head. He would’ve remembered you confessing your love for the quick witted brunette actor. “That’s surprising. I’ve been obsessed with him for years. My love for Ryan Reynolds is one of the hallmarks of my personality.”

“Obsessed is a strong word.” Tom remarked, feeling that same twinge of jealousy rise in his tummy.

“Not strong enough.” You stated. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for that man.”

You went on to talk about your obsession with Ryan Reynolds as Tom sat, engulfed in his thoughts. This was the second time you’d chosen Ryan over Tom. He couldn’t help the pang of envy that plagued his heart. You were a lot more into the guy than Tom originally thought.

But once again, Tom pushed it from his mind. He didn’t think of it again until you, Tom, and Gwyneth Paltrow appeared on the Graham Norton show together two months later to promote Far From Home.

“Now, Gwyneth, you had a pretty interesting celebrity crush growing up, didn’t you?” Graham said as he read off his cards in his Irish accent. Both you and Tom loved being on his show, especially together. He always got the best stories out of people.

“I did. I was obsessed with Keanu Reeves when I was 15.” Gwyneth answered casually.

“I can see why, he’s a very gorgeous man.” Graham nodded in agreement. “And Y/n I hear you’re quite the Ryan Reynolds fan.”

“Oh yes.” You said immediately. You beamed at the thought of him as the audience laughed. Tom, on the other hand, couldn’t have been less amused. He put on a cheerful face for the camera, but he felt white hot anger bubbling under the surface. Was Ryan going to be brought up in every damn interview?

“Is that true? Do tell.” Graham kicked his crossed leg a little, ready for trouble.

“He’s just”, You shook your hands and balled them in fists, “he just gets me going.” You laughed. Tom rolled his eyes and crossed his legs to mask his indignation.

“Does he?” Graham grinned wickedly, wanting even more out of you.

“Yes!” You leaned back in your chair, taking in the cheerful reaction from the audience. “Can you blame me though? He’s dreamy.” Your face burned bright, like a schoolgirl with a crush, as you discussed the actor.

“He’s very dreamy.” Gwyneth added.

“Back off.” You deadpanned, before bursting into laughter. The audience laughed with you, loving your energy.

“Feisty.” Graham poked fun as he shimmered his shoulder. “Is she this possessive with you, Tom?”

“She better be.” Tom said, more serious than he intended. You were too busy fawning over Ryan to notice Toms indifference.

“I am, I am.” You assured the audience. “But I would cut a bitch for Ryan Reynolds.”

“Would you?” Graham explored. “You’d just knife someone? Right then and there?”

“Absolutely.” You quipped. The audience was loving it, Tom was hating it, and you were having a great time.

“Alright.” Tom spoke up, unable to handle his girlfriend gushing over another man anymore. “I think we get it.”

“Uh Oh. Spider-Mans angry.” Graham teased before looking back at you. “What is it about him that you like?”

“It’s everything. We’ve never met, but I can just tell from his interviews that I watch every night before bed,” You paused as the audience laughed, “that he’s just a great guy. He’s so funny, obviously, and such a talented actor but he still seems like such a genuinely sweet and humble guy. And I mean, how damn cute is he? Those brown eyes? That sexy salt and pepper beard he’s got going on? I die every time he looks at the camera. I love him. I don’t know, I just love him.”

“We can tell.” Tom huffed. So now you loved him? He went from your favorite actor, to being your celebrity crush, and now you loved him too? Toms suit felt tighter and the lights felt hotter. He wanted to get out of the interview and blow off some steam.

“Maybe we’ll see a Spider-Man and Deadpool crossover one day and Y/n can play Deadpool’s girlfriend.” Gwyneth shrugged, only fueling Toms angry fire.

“I wish.” You stated. That set Tom over the edge. He didn’t talk for the rest of the interview unless he had too.

He went to bed that night, barely muttering a goodnight to you before putting his pillow over his head and going to sleep. You were too high on adrenaline to notice his cold shoulder towards you. You went to bed that night with a smile on your face after kissing Toms cheek.

“Tom!” Tom heard your hushed whisper a few hours later. He felt himself being shaken gently. He let out a slight groan and snuggled further into his pillow.

“Tommy wake up!” You said a little louder, shaking him a little more.

“Yes, my love?” Tom said sleepily, with his eyes still closed.

“Look!” You gushed, at full volume now.

And shoved in Toms face at 7:17 in the morning was a fan drawing of Deadpool holding your most popular character in a loving embrace while Spider-Man cried. There was also a little caricature of Graham Norton cheering them on in the corner. Ryan Reynolds had posted the picture on his Instagram story with the caption “Mr. Steal Your Girl.” in bold red letters. Toms face went as red as those letters and shoved your phone out of his face.

“Y/n, it’s too early for this.” Tom grumbled, turning over in bed and pulling the blanket over his face.

“Ryan Reynolds posted a drawing of my character on his story. And she’s in his arms! That means he saw the interview!” You went on, still shaking Tom. He knew he wasn’t going back to bed anytime soon. He threw the blanket off his face and rubbed his tired eyes.

“A lot of people saw the interview.” Tom sighed as he stretched a little. “Go back to bed. Why are you even awake?”

“Because the notification I got that told me Ryan posted something woke me up.” You explained, eyes still glued to your phone.

“You have notifications on for him?” Tom asked, feelings fully awake. “Do you have them on for me?” He wondered out loud.

“I’m usually with you when you post something, silly.” You cooed, giving him a kiss good morning which he accepted graciously. He regretted overreacting last night and not kissing you goodnight. He’s gone too many hours without your touch. “Can you believe this? Ryan Reynolds knows who I am!” You exclaimed, pulling Tom out of his brief happy daze.

“Yippee.” He said sarcastically as he flopped back down onto the bed.

“I’m going to repost his story.” You said decidedly. “Should I write something witty or just put emojis?”

“I don’t care.” Tom mumbled into his pillow.

“You’re right. I’ll put something witty.” Yet again, you were too focused on the task at hand to notice Toms mood. He went back to bed without another word.

Tom woke up three hours later and lazily scrolled through his phone. You weren’t in bed anymore, no doubt too giddy to go back to sleep. Tom saw that ring around your profile picture, signaling that you had posted on your story. Tom clicked it, briefly forgetting the half asleep conversation you’d had just a few hours ago. It was a screenshot of Ryans Instagram story. Under his little “Mr. Steal your girl” comment, you’d written, “all yours, baby. Don’t tell Blake.”

“What the hell?” Tom muttered sleepily. He clicked on where you tagged Ryan and began to stalk his profile. He clicked on his Instagram story, expecting to just see the fan art from before. This time, there was a picture of you and Tom holding hands and walking in the streets of New York with Ryans face poorly photoshopped over Toms. Tom sat up in bed, fully awake. Ryan had only posted it three seconds ago. Tom heard you scream from the kitchen, no doubt meaning you’d just seen it for yourself.

Tom was not happy. That photo of you and him was one of his favorites. In the picture, he was staring at you with a dreamy smile on his face while you pointed at something in the distance. Your eyes were wide like a child and your face was lit up with glee, hence Toms dreamy smile. Tom loved that photo because it was so fitting for your relationship. You admiring the beauty of the world while Tom admired the beauty of his world.

And now freaking Ryan Reynolds slapped his smug, incredibly handsome face right over Toms.

You ran back into the bedroom, phone in hand, with another huge smile.

“Did you-“

“Yeah, I saw.” Tom cut you off. This time, you noticed his indifference.

“Is everything alright, lover?” You asked as you leaned against the doorframe.

“Everything is just peachy.” Tom grouched. He threw the blanket off his body and went into the bathroom, avoiding your confused gaze the entire way there.

After a long shower, Tom felt better. He still felt guilty for snapping at you and knew he had to make things right. He found you on the couch in the living room, half watching an episode of New Girl. Toms tea was on the counter, waiting for him, next to a plate of eggs and toast. You still made him breakfast despite his rudeness towards you all morning and last night. Tom immediately felt his guilt worsen, and he took a seat next to you on the couch.

“You got new lip balm?” Tom asked sweetly, his form of a peace offering.

“Yes.” You said through partially parted lips, never meeting his gaze as you heavily applied your lip balm. “I ran out of my old one.”

So you weren’t mad. You just seemed hurt.

“Is it coconut?” Tom leaned in a little closer, which you let him, and sniffed the air.

“Piña Colada.” You said, warning up to him a little.

“Smells nice.” Tom complimented, seeing how far he could push his luck before you yelled at him for the way he acted. He stroked your hair gently and a forgiving smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.

“Tastes nice too.” You said deviantly.

“I don’t believe you.” Tom said coyly. “I’m gonna need some concert evidence, darling.”

“I think I could help you out with that.” You said, fully forgiving him now as you leaned in.

Just as your lips were about to connect, your phone lit up and went “ding.”

“Op.” You chirped and picked up your phone. “That’s Ryan.”

Tom stayed right where he was, despite you pulling away. He couldn’t hide the irritation he felt. His face twisted in annoyance as he watched your phone screen light up your face.

“What?” He said bluntly, completely unamused. You, however, were busy commenting every compliment you could think of under Ryans post.

“Huh?” You asked, absentmindedly, as your thumbs twiddled away.

“What did you say?” Tom asked you again, restraining himself from completely flipping his lid.

“I said that’s Ryan.” You repeated. You held up your phone in front of Toms face with the biggest smile on your face. Ryan Reynolds annoyingly perfect face looked back at Tom. “He just posted a selfie.”

“And you had to stop kissing me to like his picture?” Tom asked calmly.

“See? You understand.” You patted Toms cheek before diving back into your phone. Tom watched you, more rage building up every second you didn’t look up at him. Finally, Tom had had enough.

“Y/n-“ he began.

“Oh my God.” You interrupted with wide eyes. “Look what he just posted.”

Tom didn’t look down at first. He stared right at you, intense anger behind his usually gentle eyes.

“Are you serious?” He asked you.

“Yes!” You stated, misreading his question. “Look!”

Tom grabbed your phone and looked at what you so desperately had to show him. It was a picture of Ryan, of course, with his big arms wrapped around a cardboard cutout of you. Ryan was leaning in to kiss your cheek. A shirt that said “I love Y/n L/n” in big, bulky black letters was peaking out from behind the cutout. The caption said, “I won’t tell Blake if you don’t tell Tom.” Then he tagged you, along with a million hearts and kissy faces. Tom would’ve found the picture funny on any other day. But now, your love for Ryan Reynolds was impacting his relationship with you and he hated it.

He hated how genuinely excited you were just from him posting a picture.

He hated how Ryan was brought up in every single interviewer, and how you turned into a fangirling mess when he was.

Most of all, he hated feeling like you loved another man more than you loved your own boyfriend.

“Y/n!” Tom yelled, slamming his fist down on the couch. You jumped at his sudden outburst and put your phone down, giving him your full attention. Toms eyes immediately softened. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but it was the only way to get through to you.

“Yes?” You asked, confused with his tone of voice.

“I was trying to kiss you and you pulled away to look at some dudes Instagram.” Tom burst out. His tone was assertive, but not mean.

“It’s not some dude.” You dished his words back at him. “It’s Ryan Reynolds, love of my life.”

“I’m the love of your life!” He shouted. You looked at him in surprise.

“What’s gotten into you?” You asked, finally putting it together. Every time Ryan came up, Tom got quiet and weird. “Are you seriously jealous of Ryan Reynolds?”

“Am I jealous of the incredibly handsome that you’re head over heels for?” Tom repeated in exasperation. “Yes, Y/n, I am.”

“Why?” You asked incredulously, not even believing you were having this conversation.

“Because!” Tom exploded. “He’s all you talk about. Like, he’s your favorite actor and not me? He’s your celebrity crush and not me?” Tom listed off, finally getting his feelings off his chest. “And every time he gets brought up in an interview, you get all giggly and blushy. You even told Graham Norton you wished you could play his girlfriend. How am I supposed to feel about that? I’m your boyfriend and you’re so open about being in love with another man that-”

“Tommy, I’m not actually in love with him.” You interrupted. You said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, giggling at your hotheaded boyfriend in the meantime.

“You-You’re not?” Tom stuttered, stunned at your response. He had been expecting you to yell back. He hadn’t expected you to meet his anger with giggles and reassurance.

“No.” You laughed, rubbing Toms heated face with your thumb. “Yes, I love him. He’s funny and cute and a great actor. But I’m not actually in love with him. I’m only in love with you.”

“Then why are you so obsessed with him?” Tom asked, his voice softening.

“Tommy, when I say those things about Ryan, I mean other than you. He’s my celebrity crush, other than you. He’s my favorite actor, other than you. And saying I’m in love with him is just a figure of speech. But when I say I’m in love with you,” you poked his chest as a smile threatened to break out on his face, “I mean it. 100%. I love you. Only you. Not Ryan Reynolds. Not Wade Wilson. Not Chris Brander. Not Will Hayes. Just you.”

“But, sometimes, I can’t help but feel like you like him more than me.” Tom said timidly as he kissed your palm that was resting on his cheek. He was genuinely insecure about your feelings for him, something you hadn’t noticed until now.

“Tom, there is no one in this world I like more than you.” You told him. He gave you a soft smile.

“Are you sure?” He asked, still needing reassurance.

“I’m positive.” You promised him.

“What if he asked you out?” Tom tested.

“I’d tell him I’m kinda seeing someone.” You shrugged, making Tom feel better with every word.

“You’d turn down Ryan Reynolds for me?” He asked in disbelief.

“Without question.” You confirmed, taking his face in your hands. “You are absolutely the one I want. I’m sorry if I made you feel insecure.”

“It’s okay.” Tom told you. “I overreacted. I should’ve trusted you and our relationship.” He felt silly for getting all worked up over something as silly as you liking another actor. He never should’ve doubted you.

“I do have an idea of how we can respond to Ryans post, though.” You grinned mischievously.

“We?” Tom asked with a hopeful smirk.

A few minutes later, Ryan Reynolds got a notification that you tagged him in a photo. He went to his Instagram and clicked on your profile. A rare photo of you and Tom kissing with the caption “Tom knows.” was on your page in response to his “don’t tell Tom” comment from earlier. Ryan laughed to himself and went to comment.

@vancityreynolds: “But I thought I was Mr. steal your girl.” He wrote under your post. Tom was quick to respond.

@tomholland2013: “yeah, but she’s Mrs. Holland.”

“There.” You smiled and put your phone down. “It’s settled.”

A million rumors were already flying around that you and Tom were engaged. Toms comment did nothing to help that fact.

“Finally.” Tom breathed a sigh of relief and tossed his phone onto the other couch. “Can I get that kiss now?”

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@maybemona @sunrise-shawn

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chidoroki · 4 years

Text

Emma - 63194

So, it’s August 22nd, otherwise known as the best day of the month because we get to celebrate Emma's birthday! I feel like she doesn't get enough credit, especially as a shōnen protagonist, probably because she's just a normal kid compared to others with overwhelming powers/magic/quirks/etc, but I think that just makes her feats all the more interesting and amazing. So, here I am, ready to praise the hell out of everything she's done, what she's capable of, and who she is on her special day.

(spoilers for the entirety of The Promised Neverland, so if you haven't read/completed the manga yet, consider this your first warning, because I'm literally going from start to finish with this.)

This is gonna be one hell of a long post, so here we go.

- She's one of the smartest kids at Grace Field, alongside Norman and Ray, who all get full scores on the house's daily tests, which is by no means a simple task.

- This is thanks to her ability to learn things quickly, which she puts to the absolute best use throughout the entire story.

- She's undoubtedly the most athletic out of the full-score trio, as she can pull off a leap like this with no issue!

- I gotta give her voice actor credit here because her scream at the end of EP1 is simply fantastic.

- She noticed the windows in the house were screwed shut, which reinforced the idea that the kids were merely raised like cattle. (Ray was also aware of this, of course.)

- Suspects the use of tracking devices. (The anime had Norman voicing this realization, so whoever you want to give the credit for this is up to you.)

- Believe me when I say that her acting skills are top-notch.

- She's so good that she was able to control her emotions enough and even regulated her pulse to fool Isabella.

- This! Just all of this. Her crazy ideals, her never-give-up mentality, her ability to stay optimistic and strong despite everything they're up against.. just amazing.

- She always thinks of her family first. (she honestly rarely cries too, now that I think about it.)

- By using what she overheard from the demons at the gate and the “blood tests” Isabella once told her about, Emma was able to figure out where the tracking devices were located on her own. (Yeah, Ray knew of this too, but he kept that info to himself.)

- She then created a situation that allowed her to confirm this and that yes, Isabella is indeed always checking their trackers.

- It was Emma's idea to train the other children by playing tag. Not only did this help them during the escape, but afterwards as well.

- Takes advantage of every opportunity to learn. (also, the strength she has!)

- Amazing learning ability x2 (I'm aware the manga says 10 instead, but still! I bet she could memorize 100 too!)

- She believes in everyone and makes Norman realize that no one in their family is truly bad and that leaving anyone behind, even the “traitor,” could cost them their life.

- She called Ray out on his bluff about him actually being willing to help everyone escape.

- Then confronted Ray about the possibility of him experimenting on the tracking devices of their siblings, thus resulting in their early shipments, which is something Norman didn't even realize, if his surprised expression is anything to go by. (Emma scolds him and hides her anger well, though she only stays mad for like, a minute.)

- She, along with Gilda, notice Isabella disappear every night after 8pm, leading them to assume the house might contain a secret room. They eventually pinpoint where it's located. (Ray suspects such a room must have existed, but wasn't certain.)

- Introduces the boys to William Minerva's books and the morse code bookplates they held, which the trio all know how to decode and understand. (I know Phil pointed them out to her originally and manga Ray was also aware of them, surprise, but..) the hunch she had about the two special books being important guides for them turned out to be true later on after the escape.

- Accepts her mistakes and is quick to apologize when she's wrong.

- Thank you anime for giving us these wonderful lines.

- Has her leg broken and yet she doesn't shed one damn tear. (the horrific sound still haunts me.) Ah, might as well also mention this now, but her theme, 63194, is one of the best songs on the soundtrack.

- Once again caring about others more than herself, as she was ready to destroy her leg/foot even more if it allowed Norman a chance to escape.

- This absolutely amazing moment right here! Easily one of the best panels of her by far!

- Used what she heard from Krone and spent two months hiding her emotions and plans from Isabella. Learning ability & best actress x10.

- Isabella actually believes this. Seriously, someone give Emma an award. Best actress x50.

- Do y'all know how strong physically, mentally and emotionally this girl must be to cut off her own ear? I know she was in a rush to escape while Isabella was busy with the fire, like she literally had about ten seconds (anime) to remove her tracker, but damn! Not once does she ever cry over it either. May I remind you she's only 11!

- Stops Ray's suicide attempt by catching the match, thus burning her palms.

- It was her idea to let the other kids know of the escape, which helped in proceeding with the preparations behind Isabella's back.

- I love Ray x fire jokes as much as the next person, but we all know who the real pyro is. More props to her voice actor again for the scream that follows!

- Successfully carried out Norman's plan and escaped Grace Field with 14 other children.

(post-season one spoilers beyond this point)

- Keeps her cool in dangerous situations, which helps calm down the younger children. Also fairly knowledgeable of the books from Grace Field's library, such as “The Adventures of Ugo,” which came in handy in the demon forest.

- Remains positive and completely hopeful after learning the truth about the demon world they're living in from Sonju.

- It only took three days for her to become proficient enough in archery in order to hunt successfully. She apparently also knows how to use a harpoon (ch49) (but I don't think we ever see that, sadly). Learning ability x20.

- She also didn't panic when she was held at gunpoint. She stayed reasonably calm and forced her way free instead.

- Didn't even flinch when Yuugo's bullet grazed her cheek.

- Can she just get a round of applause, please?

- Emma is just so fearless. Gun to the head? Knife in her face? Doesn't matter. She'll threaten you right back.

- Kudos to her learning ability yet again x50.

- Her quick reflexes and accuracy are phenomenal.

- Of course, cue the talk-no-jutsu skills that every shonen protagonist is undoubtedly skilled with.

- Even Lewis knows at a first glance that our girl is good. Takes a lot to receive praise from this demon.

- Offers herself up as bait to lure the poachers away from the other children.

- Literally cares for anyone, as she helped countless kids she didn't even know during her first hunt at Goldy Pond by keeping them safe.

- Thanks again to her knowledge of the “The Adventures of Ugo” novel, she was able to locate the memory chip for the pen that contains information about Minerva's supporters, the paths to cross over to the human world, Goldy Pond, The Seven Walls and Project Lambda 7214.

- The damn skill she has in handling guns in the matter of two weeks is astonishing.. and she's still only 11.

- Informed the Goldy Pond kids on how to accurately aim for the demon’s center eye, which greatly helped them take out the poacher Nouma.

- She has the audacity to taunt Lewis right back and I love her for it. She also offered to stay behind in order stall Lewis on her own, despite knowing he's the most dangerous of the poachers.

- When the talk-no-jutsu towards the crazy demon fails, she summons a wide array of guns against him, because why the hell not, right?

- She once admitted that she was no good at reading an opponent's moves, but after watching many people in her life who are skilled in such a way (Norman, Ray, Isabella, Krone) and thanks to the knowledge she recently leanred about Goldy Pond, she manages to catch Lewis off guard and electrocute him. Her level of adaptability is wonderful. Learning ability x100.

- Can we all just take a moment to obsess over Emma's Goldy Pond outfit because it is fucking fantastic! She just looks so damn good! (I owe Demizu my life for this.)

- Actually manages to get Yuugo to call her by her real name after he was so adamant to no learn them or get attached to the kids.

- This bright smile adds five years onto my life.

- She’s the first to notice the disadvantage demons have with regeneration, which ultimately leads to their winning strategy against Lewis.

- She somehow survives this. (plot-armor, I know, but goddamn!)

- Now presenting, the exact moment I fell in love with Emma, because holy fucking shit! Not only does she survive getting stabbed like that, but she gets back up and continues fighting! Can I get a big ol' HELL YEAH!!

- She busts out the pistol with the trick shots she's kept hidden this entire time until the very right moment, effectively taking Lewis by surprise and granting Yuugo a clear shot to his middle eye as the demon stands defenseless against the shower of bullets.

- Emma's influence over everyone else is so powerful. We see it many times throughout the story, but because of her, they all accept that the impossible is possible, everyone is worth saving, and to never give up. This is especially amazing to witness in scenarios with Ray, since Krone once said that his weakness was that he's "a little quick to give up. He makes a decision fast but abandons other just as quickly."

- Because of everyone's assistance, they were able to destroy Gold Pond and rescue over 60+ kids, which probably wouldn't have happened if it weren't for Emma presence at the hunting ground in the first place.

- Not to discredit Ray, because I'm sure he did a fine job of cauterizing Emma's wounds, but she did survive a day and a half with a low blood count. (She was unconscious, sure, but her body didn't give up either.)

- Finally wakes up from her coma a month later and the first thing she's concerned with is the safety of everyone else.

- I swear, this girl has a heart of gold, but we knew that already.

- Doesn't let her missing ear hinder her at all, just adjusts how it would function normally in her daily life.

- Memorized the many maps found in the shelter's reference room alongside her siblings. Learning ability x125.

- She's capable of taking out three wild demons in the matter of seconds. Accuracy and speed on point still on point.

(Ah post-timeskip, just a little over halfway done now.) - Will not hesitate to jump in and save someone, regardless of the danger to herself.

- No 13 year-old should have this amount of pressure on their shoulders, but I'll be damned, she handles this and so much more well.

- She pushes aside her own anxieties over losing the shelter, those two boys and possibly Yuugo and Lucas and decides to lift the spirits of everyone else instead.

- Y'all see this demon? Do you think she cares? Not one bit! All that matters is her family's safety and she'll do anything to preserve that. We stan one reckless girl.

- Doesn't cry over the deaths of Yuugo and Lucas (at least, I don't think she does? She appears more frustrated here than upset.)

- She can pick up on how others are feeling, even if they're trying to hide it. (also does so several times to Norman (ch30, 128,153) and even to Yuugo (ch64))

- Is the first to volunteer to sneak into the mass production farm guarded by demons in order to retrieve the medicine Chris needs.

- Honey, how are you not screaming for you life right now?

- Official translation has Hayato saying “The Boss is saying he wants to meet you,” but I feel like this unofficial one here conveys the exchange between Emma and Oliver better. Their large family has children who are older and more experienced as a leader than Emma, but they all choose to follow her.

- Just a casual reminder of how strong our girl is. (She even beats out Ray and Don in terms of strength too.)

- I probably only find this impressive because I love my sleep, but she wakes up at 6 in the morning. Always. Without fail. For thirteen years. Then panics the one time she actually oversleeps.

- She knows every life is precious, no matter who or what they are. Also doesn’t want to follow Norman's civil war plan, which is good, because damn that's a bit extreme. Doing so would only create more fear and hatred.

- Say it louder.

- LOUDER!

- Agrees to go and find out more about The Seven Walls in hopes to stop Norman's plan, despite the many risks. Can she really arrive at TSW? What's actually there? Could she even make a new promise? Will she be able to return afterwards? There's a bunch of unknowns, but that won't stop her. (“Simple?” “It is simple.” That line kills me every time.)

- TSW proved to be very mentally exhausting but she and Ray did survive all the craziness they faced while trapped there.

- Due to her unique way of thinking, she managed to remain sane and was able to figure out how TSW worked, which is something even Ray couldn't quite comprehend.

- Because of that, she was then able to finally meet the bastard demon god.

- Thus allowing her to..successfully.. make a new promise. (Ahhh)

- Best actress x500 (damn damn damn!)

- Honestly, have they practiced this before or is her athleticism just that superior? Either way, she never fails to surprise me.

- Isn't afraid to speak the truth and put one of her best friends in their place.

- But manages to (somehow) forgive him, after his plan successfully killed the queen, the demon royals and poisoned the capital city, which forced the nearby demons to degenerate.

- Her optimism knows no bounds.

- She & everyone else were able to infiltrate Grace Field which is not only guarded by demons but the Ratri clan as well.

- Just how? I know your athletic but wow!

- The woman who shipped out so many of Emma's siblings and broke her leg now holds a gun to her face and yet our girl doesn't look panicked in the slightest. Girl, how are you so brave?! Holy shit. There's no fear in those eyes, only anger.

- AND she ends up forgiving her! After learning Isabella betrayed Peter and realizing that all the mothers and sisters are also fighting for their freedom, Emma gladly accepts Isabella's assistance. (Best mother daughter moment I've ever seen.)

- The entire talk-no-jutsu she pulls on Peter in ch172. She's angry, even downright hates the Ratri, but she refuses to get revenge for all the trouble they've caused to her family and friends by killing Peter. She admits the clan's actions can never be forgiven, but she still shows sympathy because she knows they were also suffering due to the world and roles they were born into.

- We find out that Emma worded the promise perfectly which allows every human raised as food to cross over into the human world. Truly thinking of everyone as per usual.

- She kept her promise to Phil and came back for him and the rest of the children she had originally left behind at Grace Field.

- Again, showing no hesitation to save someone she barely knows, even when unarmed.

- Pretty sure I was in literal tears at this point of the chapter, so kudos to her for making me bawl my eyes out. Aahh, she's just so forgiving and her heart is so big.

- Best actress x9999 (*screaming internally*)

- SHE LITERALLY SACRIFICES HER OWN HAPPINESS SO EVERYONE IMPORTANT TO HER CAN LIVE IN PEACE AND BE HAPPY!!

- She loves her family so deeply that even without her memories, her heart still remembers them. (it makes me cry too, hun, it's okay.)

- She has a heart literally made of solid gold. Of course she can't refuse the bastard's reward, but still accepts it with a smile on her face knowing that all humans and demons, of the present and future, can now live freely without any fear. She completely ended the tragedy that persisted the last 1,000+ years and changed the world like she set out to do back in ch4. Sweetheart please, you're anything but selfish.

- She has the most precious family on the planet. Her influence was so strong that they searched endlessly for two years just to see her again, by never giving up or doubting her words back in ch178. They're beyond happy when they do finally find her and are a bunch of sweethearts who accept her no matter what.

- Ahh, I just really love Emma okay? She's honestly one of the few protagonists I actually enjoy. Happy Birthday again to this all-around amazing girl and I can't wait to see her in action in future anime seasons!!

(congrats, you've made it to the end. i apologize if i missed any other moment worth mentioning, but yeah, i think this is enough for now.)

#the promised neverland #tpn emma #tpn manga #tpn anime #emma #chidoroki used chatter

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cafeinthemoon · 3 years

Text

To Where the Water Take Me - Chapter I

Title: To Where the Water Take Me

Genre: Fanfiction | Fantasy!AU

Pairing: Tobirama Senju x Yua (Ofc)

Rating: Teen | up

Word count: 2298

Chapter (s): 1/?

Warnings: mentions to injuries

Symbols: ⭕ | ➕ | 💛 | ▶▶

Read this story on my AO3

Summary: Yua lives on a small town by the coast where stories about the people of the sea and their altercations with humans were common. One morning, during her usual walking by the beach, she spots something lying ahead, right where the sand and the water meet. She approaches it believing it is an animal, just to be proven wrong: that was the body of a male from the people of the sea.

N. A.: This is the Fantasy!AU I mentioned here before! I don’t know when I will finish it or how much chapters it will have, but I want it to be short and simple. I’m also posting it here to “clean” my draft list, so please don’t expect constant updates on this story XD

Chapter 1 - Morning Walk

“A thousand miles out to the sea bed

Found a place to rest my head”

(Florence and the Machine, Never Let Me Go)

Spring was on its second week in that land and the days of Winter winds and violent storms coming from the sea were over. It was easy to become used to the warm sunlight and the calm waves on the coast that came after them every year, and that was the reason why Yua started to rethink her decision of leaving the house to take her usual walk that particular morning: she reached the sand and haven’t walked more than a few meters when a cold breeze reached her, making her ask herself if she should have brought a coat. Maybe yes, but now that she was already there with her feet buried in sand and her hair soaked in salt air, she was not going back home; she came to take her morning walk, and she was not leaving without doing it.

However, the sea had experience with tenacious people, and that time it was determined to test her persistence. Little by little, the warm sun disappeared behind a thick layer of gray clouds slowly pushed by the wind, which was sending more and more shivers down her body at each step. Soon, the amount of sand carried by it started to interfere in her sight, and it was hard to see what was ahead. Yua felt the irritation growing inside her: what happened to the weather that day?

She was now convinced that going back home was the wisest thing to do in such conditions. Accepting her defeat with a sigh, she tied her hair to not have it on her eyes while walking with the wind on her back and crossed her arms around herself, preparing to leave.

It was when she saw it.

Not so far from her spot, there was a dark, large stain upon the white sand, right where the land met the waves. Yua narrowed her eyes, trying to understand what she was seeing. Was it a piece of a wrecked ship? Or a living creature? Maybe the waters became so agitated with that terrible wind that they threw it there, giving it no chance to go back.

She took a few steps towards it and confirmed that it was a creature. Was it a dolphin? A seal? Well, if it was an animal, it must be too heavy for her to take it back to the water all by herself. She could seek for help in the city. But were they going to help her? She couldn’t be sure.

Whatever the case, the creature wasn’t moving, which increased the possibility of it being hurt. Standing there would only lead it to death, if it hasn’t happened already, so the girl walked toward it with determination, if not to do something for it, at least to try and understand what happened.

As she approached it, she start to think that the animal was too big to be a dolphin, and to slim to be a seal. What was it, then? She would have to look closer to find out. Now the curiosity has overcome her plans of leaving the beach, and she found herself almost running to reach the being.

And then her path ended up in an abrupt way: she was just a few steps apart from the creature and held her breath when she looked closer at it.

It wasn’t an animal as she first supposed. It was a person. Not a human, though – a person from the people of the sea.

For the appearance of their upper bodies carried a reasonable resemblance with the human figure, it was safe to say that the creature was a male. He was lying on his belly, his arms stretched up his head; in his hand he held tight some black stripes that showed to be a species of seaweed that she never saw before – he must have found it in the depths of the ocean.

His skin was pale even when compared to the white sand upon which he was lying, but all over his arms and ribs he had reddish marks spreading on a stern pattern; at first, Yua thought they were scratches, but a careful examination revealed that they were natural marks. Not that it would be a big problem for him if they were real injuries, for his muscles and general aspect implied an amount of resistance that would surpass the human limits: it wasn’t hard to imagine that he had enough strength to kill Yua in seconds even if he didn’t use everything he got against her. This detail served as warning for her in her next actions.

If the creature’s skin seemed pale to her, his hair was indeed white; it was short, disposed in shaggy, thick strands. On his head he was wearing some sort of silver ornament that covered his forehead and part of his cheeks, but the sharp points on its upper side created a resemblance with the forehead protector of the human shinobi from distant lands. Was he a warrior among his people?

She wasn’t sure if it was an illusion, but both his skin and hair seemed to reflect a subtle, bluish shade when touched by the light. Perhaps it was the influence of the aquatic aspects of his anatomy: over the outer side of his arms, starting on his elbows and reaching his fists, as well as on his lower back, grew a layer of scales that shone with a soft shade of blue that got darker as they extended in flexible fins. Of an even darker tone of blue was his tail, spreading for at least three meters among the waves: it started right at what would be his waist if he was human, but in this case the transition between the pale skin and the scales was less subtle, as to let no doubts about his non human nature.

For she was born in that city, Yua heard about the people of the sea since she was a child, from the stories her mother told her to the talking all around the city, when fishermen and travelers would complain about accidents and shipwrecks caused by those wild sea-men. However, she never expected to find one of them by herself. She was scared, that was true, but her fascination overcame her fears, and she bent down beside the seaman and stretched her hand to touch him.

She touched his right shoulder at first with her fingertips, ready to move away if he woke and attack her. It was warm – he was alive, then. And that part of the stories that claimed that their skin was as cold as the deep ocean was a lie. He showed no reaction to her touch, so she put her palm over his skin.

This time he started to move.

He clenched his fists and leaned on them using all his strength. In a second, he was able to look ahead, and that was what he did once he opened his eyes. Yua got stunned when he did: his pupils were not but two tiny black dots surrounded by globes as red as human blood, and the narrow shape of his eyes seeming to be painted with black ink, as well the red marks he had upon his cheeks and chin which were of the same pattern as the others on his body, deepened her impression of being in front of a predator.

They soon spotted the girl staring at him and widened, if with anger or fear, she didn’t have the time to find out. It was easy to suppose that he hid fangs behind his mouth while he kept it shut, so when he hissed and showed them, Yua was not surprised, but the sudden movement he made to throw himself toward her made her jump and fall on her back, containing a scream.

However, instead of a growl or any other sound of attack, she heard a moan that seem to be caused by pain. When she sat and looked again, she noticed that the sand underneath his spot was soaked in a fluid of a deep blue tone that was close to black; she then saw him trying to cover a dark stain upon his chest, from which dripped the same fluid. She didn’t need to know much about seamen to understand that it was blood.

Forgetting about what just happened, she leaned toward him.

- Let me help you!

The man stopped at these words and stared at her. The suffering was visible on his face, on which side there was blood falling, probably from a hidden injury. However, his silence was so long that she started to wonder if he could understand the human speech.

She tried again, more cautious.

- Do you understand what I say? – she pointed the injury – You’re hurt. You need help. Let me take care of this for you.

He kept staring at her for a few seconds before relaxing his position as sign of permission for her to approach. She came to bend closer to him and without touching the injury, started to examine it. It was an ugly thing he got there: a deep cut on his right side, apparently made with some sharp, metallic instrument like a big knife or a spear, that spread from his scapula to the center of his chest, almost reaching his left ribs. What was she going to do?

The first thing was to clean that blood as much as she could. She had nothing to do that but an apron she used to put upon her dresses to walk in case she found a shell she wanted to keep; she took it off and soaked it in the water to clean the bruise, and then folded it, using it to contain the bleeding.

- Please, hold it tight – she made the gesture of holding the fabric against the injury and touched his hand to tell him to imitate her.

He did it with his empty hand and, when she started to look around, trying to decide what to do next, he offered her the seaweed he was holding. She raised her eyes to him and he nodded; she immediately understood and took it from his hand.

The seaweed, when pressed and rubbed between the palms, formed a thick, creamy substance that glued to the skin with little effort and didn’t melt with the mere contact with water; it wasn’t so easy to spread, so the girl would need to be careful if she wanted that quantity to be enough for a large cut like that. When the salve was ready, she removed the apron from the cut and started to press the seaweed upon it.

It was indeed a strong medicine: as soon as it touched the bruise, he hissed, probably because it burned the sensitive skin. Yua stopped at it, but got back to her task when he seem to feel better.

She slowed her pace and softened the pressure she was applying, but it didn’t seem to help with the burning sensation because he kept hissing during the whole process.

- I’m sorry – she whispered, trying to calm him down as she worked – It will be over soon, I promise... It’s almost finished… Just a little bit…

As the treatment advanced, the seaman seemed to get used to the unpleasing sensation caused by the medicine: the hisses were less frequent now, and the tension on his muscles diminished. Maybe it was the medicine in action, or the certainty that Yua was not going to harm him – because whatever have happened to him moments before that encounter, he had his reasons to be on guard and afraid.

And after some minutes, everything was finally over. The seaman was visibly relieved; the burn must have stopped at that point. Yua washed her hands on the water, but kept what remained from the seaweed on her lap.

She observed him with more attention, not ignoring the blood on his face.

- Is this the only injury you got? – she questioned him and indicated the water plant – There’s still some seaweed we could use in this case.

At these words, he had a strange reaction. His looked away, as if trying to hide the blood and find a way to escape the conversation. But what could be so embarrassing that he didn’t want to tell her? Was it the fact that he just got help from a human being? Or didn’t he understand her language and didn’t know how to explain it? She tried to question him to find out, but he seemed to become nervous, and she was afraid to push him too far: having a potentially dangerous creature close to you and irritating him was not the best idea one could have.

The girl stretched her hand toward him, but closed it and moved it back to her lap. If he was a human, she could touch his shoulder or his hand to assure him about her good intentions, but in the present case she couldn’t be sure of how he was going to react to her gesture. The best way to proceed was, after all, continuing to speak.

- Listen… I don’t know if can understand what I’m saying, but I just want to help you, right? So, if you have a problem, you can show me, and I will do my best. You don’t need to be afraid.

And for the second time, she held back a scream: for the first time, the seaman spoke.

#naruto fanfiction #naruto founders #naruto au #tobirama senju #tobirama fanfic #tobirama x oc #fantasy au #merman

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coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe · 3 years

Text

Inside Jokes and References in the Full Bios

Mainly for @spacelizardtrashboys and @kuruumiya

Also: Any time strikethrough text is used it's because it's meant to be secret information, for example on the small bios any time 'Lucifarian' truly isn't their last name their is strikethrough test after saying that it's not their real name. This is to say that no matter what is written or if it's strikethrough text or not, it is there for a reason.

Damien - Bio In-Jokes and References:

The Quote for him refers back to his 'King of Hell' gimmick, as does his middle name, Rex means king.

He's protective, like a dad, but also way too overprotective over the gimmicks for the girls. He's an old, old school guy so he enjoys card games with the boys.

He's supposed to sound like a young Hugh Laurie, mainly because if I heard a young Hugh Laurie say Damien's bio quote I wouldn't be able to take him seriously.

His main finisher (Seventh Circle) refers back to (a) him being the king of hell and (b) the seventh circle is for violence, and well, he's a wrestler, that's a pretty violent job.

He calls fans both 'peasants' and his 'loyal subjects' because he's like an asshole-ish king who'd quickly be dethroned if they rebelled.

Vickie - Bio In-Jokes and References:

The Quote for her refers back to her gimmick along with the old saying 'pride comes before the fall'.

She's called 'Victoria' because of both (a) it meaning victory and (b) the fact that Queen Victoria ruled back when Britain had an empire, then the empire fell (as in pride [Vickie] before a fall)

Both Her and Damien are born in August and are the only two to share a birth month as they are Father and Daughter (non-kayfabe, as in they share DNA)

She's raised Christian as back when she was growing up England was a lot more Christian than when she became an adult so she got lax in her beliefs

Her personality is supposed to make her come across as a vain, rich, arse of a person, yet deep down she's still redeemable, she's got a long way to go before she actually redeems herself though

She's the type of person who makes sure EVERY little detail of her matches and promos are PERFECT to the point that she will control what other people do or say, down to the moment it's said/done and the way it's said/done

She only likes the other D.O.D (Daughters of Darkness) members because she has only made enemies in the short while they've been in the company, she especially dislikes George 'The Animal' Steele because of his very messy style going against her 'everything should be perfect' views

She's the leader, the brain and the mouth because of her control over the group, if she let them have more control, there might be less arguments about her amount of control

Her named moves are also references to both her gimmick and other things. Beheader is named because of the Tudor monarchs of England having kind of a thing for killing people in this way (ex. Henry VIII).

Lineage Ender is named that because if she ever botches that one specific move (it'll make sense in context/ she does it during a training scene) it could end either her own Lineage or the person she's doing it to.

Lion's den is called that because she traps them in a near-inescapable crucifix pin, and normally if someone goes into a den of Lions, they aren't escaping in one piece.

Family Pride is named that because not only is her gimmick the sin of pride, but she's got pride in her family and she's her dad's 'pride and joy' because she's his only child.

Wish for this (her main finishing move) is called that because it's an inside joke of "you're gonna 'wish for this' to be over soon"

As she's Damien's blood daughter, a 'prodigal son' joke seemed somewhat appropriate.

Billie - Bio In-Jokes and References:

Her quote is a reference to the Guerreros and the whole 'Latin lover' trope

She was born in February because of Valentine's day, hence why her birthday is two days before the 14th

She's 1/2 Cuban (just in general - both Mexican and Cuban culture is interesting to me) But she's 1/2 Cuban in case I ever need to write for Razor Ramon, I can get away with making the joke of 'my Cuban accent's better than yours'.

Her casual style is 'Suggestive' because how else is Lust supposed to dress.

She dislikes Hulk Hogan because she finds him incredibly annoying and she dislikes Jesse Ventura because she dislikes his fashion choices.

I imagine her uncle Hugo looks like Luis Guzman and her dad's like Raul Julia. Try to imagine those two wrestling as a luchador tag team.

Her mother was basically a valet to her dad, which was usually Billie's role before she was part of the D.O.D.

Her move name references are all song references: Love me Tender - Elvis' song of the same name, Personal Aphrodite - a reference to / joke on 'Personal Jesus', Sexual Healing - Marvin Gaye's song of the same name.

Also, I hope to eventually use the joke 'The Babe, the babe with the power,' 'What power?' 'Power of voodoo' 'Who do?' 'You do' 'Do what?' 'Remind me of the babe' because of one of her commentary nicknames being 'The Babe'

P.G - Bio In-Jokes and References:

Her quote is in reference to her being greed and (right at the start of the story) her thoughts on money actually being able to buy her happiness

her surname 'Voronin' means crow, and well, crows like shiny things, like money

she wears 'fancy but simple' clothing because if she bought designer clothes she'd be in debt, but she still wants to look like she has more money than everyone else

she's cowardly in a Jimmy Hart way, she'll piss someone off during a promo and run away once she feels like she's in danger

she's a showman because she's more show than work, meaning she works exceptionally quick matches.

Her moves are basically jokes on the fact that she is greed, such as Gold-digger and Diamond Ring. However, Money Maker is also a joke on the fact that it's a facebuster and usually an actor's face is called their 'money maker'

She hates Hulk Hogan and Sgt slaughter because of how patriotic they are

Kirby - Bio In-Jokes and References:

Her quote is a reference to (a) the fact that she's Gluttony, (b) her being the only one who wears a mask constantly and (c) her basically being the group's scare tactic against people who think they can push them around.

I am planning on eventually making her a part of the machines, maybe as a valet, maybe as a wrestler, not 100% sure as of right now

Her mother is the Norwegian-Scottish one and her father is the Irish-Welsh one

She is the tallest (not the heaviest, that's Damien) but she's still 9 inches shorter than André.

She's willing to bleed hardway, but hates blading

She hates Big John Studd because of his disrespect, she hates Hulk Hogan because she thinks he's obnoxiously 'American', she dislikes Lord Alfred Hayes and Dynamite Kid because they are so insistent on calling her '1/4 Icelandic' whenever she talks about being 1/4 Norwegian. She hates Brutus Beefcake because he's just 'so, so much' energy-wise.

She's always been tall, always shorter than André though, she was 5'6" when she was 12, which is still taller than Sam, P.G and Eli.

Kirby's the best at using folk tales and mythology references in her promos and still keeping them dark and scary.

Her speaking voice is Jessica Hynes, but I imagine her singing voice (which will be important later) to be that of Deee-lite's Lady Miss Kier. On that note, I will be putting up a post on this part of the fic's canon.

Feeding Frenzy is meant to look similar to Roddy's wild punches, hence the 'frenzy' part of the name.

Organ grinder is named because it's meant to look really hard (like she's putting all her force and weight into it) as if she's grinding her opponents organs

Hungry for Blood is an in-joke of during her toughest matches she seems hungry to give the fans the sight of blood

Consummation is a joke of 'the match will soon be over, the match will soon be concluded, or consummated' not the sex-based meaning of that word.

Number of the beast, which is 666, is a reference to the 619, and is a modified 619 basically.

Vampire's Bite is a reference to her sitout jawbreaker looking like she could possibly bite someone's neck, like a vampire, as she performs the move

I didn't want to call her chops, chops, so I made a joke of 'oh it's chopping, like a butcher's knife'

Overfeeding is another basic gluttony reference. Cheshire Grin is a facelock-based joke. Let Them Eat Cake is a butt=cake joke

The ogress is a thinly-veiled way of the commentary team calling her ugly, because why else would she be the only one in a mask

Holly - Bio In-Jokes and References:

Her quote is written that way because I always wanted her to sound like she comes from New Jersey

She's very cuddly towards the rest of the D.O.D and thus gets called a teddy bear by the others

She's Pansexual because she doesn't care what your gender is, she loves people just being themselves

She's the only ginger because I've never seen a ginger wrestler from New Jersey

She was raised Catholic but lost her faith upon realising how bad gay people are treated by the church (Holly literally just goes "Y'all it is 1984, how are y'all gonna reject people based on who they love?")

Holly's very much the person who'll ask permission to cut a promo on someone but won't tell them how harsh she's going to be

She's the group's mom friend (mum friend?)

Before she started travelling with another member of the group (Holly travels with Sam a lot) she would accidentally no-show events

She does accidentally give incredibly stiff shots

Holly likes Gorilla Monsoon because their friendship is very much a weird pseudo-dad-daughter friendship, so basically, she's using him as her new dad

Her voice is Angie Harmon because I think Harmon sounds like a badass from New Jersey

Naptime, Dirt Nap and Lullaby are jokes of 'I'm gonna knock you out'

Eli - Bio In-Jokes and References:

Her quote is a joke of 'this is why she doesn't do a lot of promos'

She's the most likely to be on one of those 'too hot for TV' blooper reels from her promos

Both she and Sam hate people taller than them

Sam - Bio In-Jokes and References:

Her quote is a reference to the fact that her tattoos are her 'masterpiece'

she dresses athletically because she's always ready for a fight, especially because she's usually the one picking fights

She likes Lou because he's like a crazy uncle to her and she likes George Steele because, unlike Vickie, she likes the wild man side of his gimmick

She's voiced by Melissa Etheridge because she's still feminine but is the most masculine sounding

#Lucifarians #Wrestling Family #wrestling fic #original character

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slashhinginghasher · 4 years

Note

You, 87 years ago: (I seriously have an entire childhood planned out for Jesse based on nothing but that 2-second flashback in L2R2, but that’s a beast for a different post.) Us, checking watch: Is it time for this post yet??

How To Raise A Serial Killer

Paul Cromeans was a mean son of a bitch. Anyone in town would attest to that. He was drunk more often than he was sober and liked to talk with his fists. Rumor had it he’d beaten his wife to death and hidden her body in the swamp. Other folks said that was stupid, that she’d just gotten tired of being a punching bag and high-tailed it out of there. Whatever the truth was, she’d vanished seemingly overnight, leaving Paul behind with their infant son. When little Jesse was old enough to ask about his mother, Paul - who would never accept the consequences of his actions - told the boy that she’d been a gold-digging whore who ran off with a richer man.

He blamed the specter of his wife for all the woes in his life. When the windows leaked during hurricane season, it was because she had never taken good care of the house. When it became clear that Jesse would never talk, it was because she smoked and drank while she was pregnant. When he turned his fists on his son, it was because she had left him a lonely and desolate man instead of supporting him the way a wife should.

***

Paul worked nights cleaning the county funeral home. The pay wasn’t much: it was enough for Paul’s drinks and his smokes and to keep the bank away from their doorstep, but not enough for childcare. When Jesse grew out of his infant cuteness and the neighborhood ladies would no longer watch him for free, Paul started bringing him to work with him. He’d sit the boy on a chair in the foyer with strict instructions not to move, and shake him awake hours later when it was time to go home.

Jesse listened, at first. The funeral home was scary in the dark, the proprietor looked old and mean, and there were probably ghosts. He’d huddle in whatever chair his father plunked him down in, refusing to even let his feet touch the floor. But as time passed, he got older, braver, and more bored, and started to explore the shadowy depths of the building. One night, venturing deeper than he’d dared before, he’d stumbled upon the proprietor working over one of the deceased. It was a young woman, grey-skinned and nude on the metal table. Jesse froze in the doorway.

It was the first dead human he’d seen, and the first naked woman. He was eight years old.

He must have made some sort of noise, because the proprietor looked up from his work and beckoned Jesse inside. The boy obeyed, more afraid of angering the old man than he was of the corpse.

“Go on, then,” the proprietor ordered in his smoker’s rasp. “Touch her.” Jesse didn’t move. The proprietor scoffed at the boy’s hesitation and grabbed his hand, forcing him to touch the dead woman’s foot. Jesse cringed, half-expecting the body to move, but it remained as cold and still as the dead animals he sometimes found on the side of the road.

“See?�� the proprietor said. “Ain’t nothing to be afraid of. She’s just meat.”

Shortly after that, Paul started leaving Jesse home alone when he went to work. Jesse didn’t think it had anything to do with the body, but he was too scared to ask.

***

School was hard. Not because Jesse was stupid - he wasn’t - but because he was smart and no one else knew it. His classmates pushed him around and called him names because his clothes were shabby and his daddy had punched Mark’s daddy at the bar last weekend and he physically couldn’t tell them to stop. Teachers ignored him because he couldn’t talk. When he did well on tests, they accused him of cheating, so he stopped trying. He still listened to their lessons, because they were interesting, but he sat in the back of the classroom and doodled skulls and broken stick figures in the margins of his worksheets.

His only friend was the old, kindly school librarian who let him eat lunch among the shelves. She had managed to dig up a book about sign language, and sat with him patiently as he signed the alphabet over and over with clumsy fingers. But she died of a heart attack when Jesse was ten, and her replacement wasn’t anywhere as sympathetic, and he was forced to return to the cruel company of his peers. He stole the sign language book from the library out of spite and practiced signing in the dirty mirror at home.

***

Jesse’s relationship with his father was rocky. Paul was often too drunk to read the notes Jesse wrote, and he refused to waste his time learning how to wave his hands around like a “fuckin’ fairy.” This communicative gap made even the most basic interactions more difficult than they should have been.

Their only common ground was hunting, where Jesse proved to be a natural. When Paul was in a rare good mood, he’d brag to the other men at the bar about how his boy could sneak close enough to a deer to slap it on the rump if he had half a mind to. And if Jesse seemed to prefer gutting the carcasses over shooting, well. Every man should know how to butcher his own kill.

***

Jesse had his first major growth spurt when he was fourteen, and entered high school a lanky, gangling giant of a boy. The physical bullying stopped, his sheer size enough to deter most people, but the name-calling grew worse, more targeted. The teachers saw his size and his silence and assumed he was some kind of idiot. He started walking with a hunch, wishing he could shrink down and disappear into the crowd.

High school was also where Jesse first noticed Lindsey Forrester. She had hair like corn silk, a smile like a movie star’s, and the bluest eyes you ever did see. Compared to the dead woman from the funeral home and the crinkled pictures in Paul’s Playboys, Lindsey was like a ray of sunshine. Jesse was pretty sure that even if he could talk, he’d never be able to form a sentence around her. Even though he was pushing 6’4”, she made him feel three inches tall. She didn’t make fun of him, but she didn’t talk to him, either. She was the only one whose attention he would have welcomed, and she didn’t even notice him.

So it was something of a shock when she asked him out in 11th grade. He said yes, naturally, and was even able to make her laugh through the awkwardness after she asked for his phone number out of habit. (It was the only time his muteness ever came in handy; he would’ve been mortified to admit his house didn’t have a phone.) He skipped class on Friday to scrub his father’s dirty old car to spotlessness, and stole Paul’s only nice shirt from the closet after he passed out drunk.

Jesse waited outside the diner for three hours before he accepted that Lindsey wasn’t going to show up. Come Monday, everyone was sneaking glances at him and snickering behind their hands. On Tuesday, Lindsey announced that she and Mark were dating.

He started to understand why his father spoke so harshly about his mother.

***

Paul’s liver gave up the ghost the summer after Jesse graduated high school, dragging the rest of Paul along with it. The coroner didn’t even bother with an autopsy; everyone knew Paul Cromeans would drink himself to death one day. No one expected Jesse to mourn, and he didn’t. He chose the cheapest burial option, turned the ramshackle house over to the bank, and left town with nothing but his hunting knife and his father’s beat up car.

It was fortunate they hadn’t run a toxicology panel on Paul.

***

Jesse returned to town only once, the year he turned 21.

No one knew where he’d gotten the money from. Rumor had it he was running drugs for the cartel in Miami. Other folks said that was stupid, that he’d just gotten lucky or maybe found a job with one of the new tech companies that were popping up everywhere. Whatever the method, Jesse Cromeans rolled into town with a new car, new tattoos, and a pair of designer sunglasses, and bought his childhood home back from the bank. Cash.

He’d filled out, too, his muscles drawing admiring looks from the girls who wouldn’t give him the time of day at school. Including Lindsey Forrester.

“I never got to tell you how sorry I was about your dad,” she murmured as she straddled him in the backseat. “You left town so fast, I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” She and Mark were set to be married the following spring. Her engagement ring was currently somewhere under Jesse’s passenger seat.

“I was such an idiot for standing you up in high school,” she sighed as they shared a cigarette afterwards. “It was a bet, but I totally would’ve shown up if I’d known this was how things would turn out.”

“How much did you win?” Jesse asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “It was just a stupid dare between stupid kids.”

“Now that’s a damn shame.”

“Why?” Lindsey giggled, trying and failing to blow a smoke ring.

“Because that means you died for nothing.”

***

The last thing Jesse did was burn his old house to the ground. He didn’t add Lindsey to the growing collection in his glove box. She wasn’t worth the tape.

#jesse cromeans #chromeskull #laid to rest #my writing #it is very important that everyone knows I pulled this ENTIRELY out of my ass #zero percent based in canon except for the two-second flashback of a kid touching a cadaver in L2R2

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bibliocratic · 5 years

Note

Jonmartin prompt: Jon wants to cuddle Martin very badly and is also super awkward about it, like "how do I touch you without my elbows crushing something"

(post 160, jonmartin)(this is… well, it’s sort of what you were after? hope it’s ok!)

It’s not easy, the slapdash and imprecise art of communication. Martin’s never been particularly adept. His words trip over footholds of his own making on their way out of his mouth. He has a stammer he’s never quite rid himself of, his words too earnest or too anxious to showcase any finesse at the skill.

And Jon…

Well. Jon.

It wasn’t simple before, twisting the tape back to the start of all this, Jon talking like a car trying to jump start when things felt too personal, his indelicate sincerity that struck with all the tenderness of an anvil. And Martin likes to think they were both getting better, before. They had three weeks of stumbling, artless practise, their amateur declarations witnessed by no-one but the wind and evening-dappled fields that stretched like lazy days for miles around.

And now.

Martin wouldn’t say Jon’s up to managing much talking now.

Oh, he’s not silent. Chatty in his own way, and the conversations they have are tug-of-wars, teasing, testing to find the edges their pieces slot into.

Easy isn’t the word for it though. Martin supposes, it was never going to be.

They’ve stopped for a few days to gather themselves. They’ve made it as far south as Melrose on the borders, and it would have been a pretty market town, antique fairs and village fetes and a eye-catching ruin of a fourteenth century monastery, if the Hunt hadn’t passed this way, maybe the Spiral too. There isn’t much left here in the way of civilisation, and little to nothing in the way of humanity. There are shadows like the imprints on wall after the outpouring shock of a bomb, but their limbs do not concede to the shape of limbs. They sway as leaves on a branch, like they’re hanging from where their feet are stuck to the ground, and Martin tugs them clear of their gathering places.

They’ve managed to let themselves into the half-unhinged door of a little high street shop that used to sell fancy card and stationary. They had tried an art gallery further up the road, but the Dark had started to take root there like black mould, and it’d eaten away the ground floor to yawning inky nothing.

Martin asks Jon if they’ll be safe here, and Jon rallies himself wearily, Looks. He replies that nothing will come for them, and that’s as much as they can ask for these days.

Above the shop, accessed via a back-room still plugged up and packed with unopened boxes, up carpeted stairs on which bundles of unopened notebooks and special occasion cards balance committedly against the will of gravity, there’s a small flat. The decoration in the flat is… interesting. It’s more something one of Tim’s friends would have had, the few times Tim got Martin to go out with him for one of his ‘de-stress Friday’ sessions. Martin would laugh at the wall-hangings like indoor curtains, the posters of the zodiac and some tie-dye hippy representation of chakras, the bong even still on the coffee table in the poky living room, except his attention is slightly more taken up by Jon at the moment. Leant against him like a downed tree, his eyes drooping closed and his legs fast failing him, shuddering from the effort of taking the stairs.

The way here was treacherous. There’s a town further north about forty miles swallowed by the Vast. Jon tries to avoid Seeing as much as possible, of course he does, and Martin will never ask that of him outright, never, but they’ve had to check if the way is safe a number of times. And each time he opens the door or whatever metaphor Jon uses to understand it, it drains something from him it takes a long time to claw back.

Martin drops his backpack by the entrance. Divests Jon of his. Jon sways and blinks with lidded eyes, and his gestures are sloppy, poorly formed. Martin ends up carrying him to single bed off to the right of the staircase, the room still wreathed in the old stale smell of tobacco and weed.

Once Jon’s out for the count, Martin checks the doors, the windows, their rations and supplies with the religious militancy of a man who knows what happens when they don’t. He counts out rations, makes careful notations in his notebook with a stubby pencil sharpened by his pen-knife. The cupboards of the flat are mostly a bust, but there’s a few cans of baked beans, tinned peaches, and the delight of finding a single can of tinned custard, which Martin stashes to surprise Jon with later.

There’s a billy bookcase next to the non-functioning TV, crowded full of precarious piles of console game boxes and disordered books and back issues of the Fortean Times. Martin peruses through a number of books on mysticism, the paranormal and how one can access their inner self before he finds a glossy hardback on origami to entertain himself.

The sky outside is dark and scratched with an ugly bruising colour, but it’s likely to be only mid afternoon. Martin ventures back down the staircase and grabs some coloured card before he settles back into the spring-less corner of a battered settee draped with a brightly adorned throw blanket. There’s another, equally obnoxiously shaded blanket of clashing colours, and he places it over himself and gets comfortable.

It’s a few hours later when he hears the bed squeak. A clearing of a throat, the unsteady padded steps of someone who hasn’t found their equilibrium just yet.

Jon pushes the door open with a sighing squeak and peers blearily around.

The nap hasn’t helped at all by the look of it. Martin turns mid-fold and gets to see a crime scene of disturbed sleep evidenced on Jon’s body. One of Martin’s long-sleeve t-shirts rucked up, the under arms and ring around his neck patched damp. His skin rippled with a thick sweat, hair coming wildly and carelessly from the band he’d tied it back in. He’s rocking on the balls of his feet like he’s still following the motion of running, and his eyes as he stares at Martin are unnaturally dilated, unnervingly steady even as he scrubs his face with his hand.

“Hey,” Martin says carefully. Knowing to keep his voice pitched low, calmer than Jon feels right now. “Are you… everything ok?”

Jon pauses, blinks just too slowly to seem natural, and shakes his head.

“What’s wrong?” Martin asks. “If you can… if you want to say, that it.”

Jon pauses. It’s habit now. A nervous tic. Mulling over what he wants to say and how he’ll say it.

He has to be so careful with how he says things.

Martin’s expecting a truncated gesture or two. A stumbling sign that Martin will have to parse, backed up by a thousand other signifiers of meaning in their home-spun language. But unusually, Jon clears his throat, bites his top lip anxiously before he opens his mouth.

Like tuning in a radio station mid-programme, someone else’s words ring out.

“I allowed myself some brief hope,” Jon’s voice sloshes out of his mouth with a South American cadence. “that maybe he’d just left me, maybe he’d escaped with just a divorce. But no. One call to the housing association confirmed that, as far as they were concerned, I’d always lived alone.”

Most of the statements Martin doesn’t recognise. He’s not been cursed with an encyclopaedic knowledge of them after all, a forced and unwilling archive now capable of speaking in every voice but his own. They’re all the same anyway. The recycling of other people’s tragedies and miseries, their worst days committed for posterity and recited dutifully by the archive Jonah Magnus created to house them.

Jon usually doesn’t share the content of his dreams.

“Nightmare?” Martin says, deliberately lightly. He puts down his truly butchered attempt to make a swan and watches as Jon swallows, brings a hand to his mouth to gnaw at a nail.

He wonders if that’s the right word, knows in his heart it isn’t, not really. Because nightmares are a twisting of things that both are and aren’t, a plaited deceitful recollection of an unkind brain. Jon’s dreams are a hideous witnessing, with no hope of challenge of change.

Jon jerkily nods, before he says in that awful ventriloquism:

“… regarding a series of misplaced objects lost over the course of three months.”

Jon’s started to rub his arms. His lips firmly closed again, as though embarrassed he’s shared the history he’s been watching in his dreams. But he did share it. And that’s notable.

Martin holds up a corner of the blanket on the settee, and chides “Get in here, or you’ll catch your death”, and Jon’s crossing the distance as though he was waiting for the signal.

They don’t say anything for the while. Jon folds himself up against Martin’s side like a gangly greetings card, like one of his obviously failed origami projects. Martin puts an arm around his shoulder and consigns himself to the rather shocking robbery of body heat that’s rapidly occurring. Jon accepts the arm, but the tension is still wound through his marrow, and he doesn’t calm like he usually does.

“This one really bothered you, didn’t it?” Martin says.

A twitchy up-down motion.

“How come?” Martin asks, before: “If you want to talk about it. If not, well, I can tell you all about my grand adventures in paper folding. A wild ride, I can promise.”

Jon raises an eyebrow at the truly dazzling menagerie of wobbly animals, and huffs a stale laugh.

He brings out his hands from where he’d buried them in the furnace of Martin’s space, and makes a sign, a twisting hooked hand motion - Spiral. And then, shakier, flatter, his fingers closed like shutters – Lonely.

“As far as they were concerned,” he repeats with a mournful and stolen tongue, “I’d always lived alone.”

He makes a sign again, and meets Martin’s eye like he’s been trying not to – Lonely.

Jon reaches out, and like setting fingers to the board of a violin, delicately fits his hand against Martin’s. Like he’s memorised exactly the places where they go, the coves and shorelines where their islands can align.

Martin’s grip has never been as careful. His fingers engulf Jon’s smaller size, cushioning them in a sturdy grip.

“You’ve not lost me,” Martin says, reading in between the lines of Jon’s gestures. “I’m here, yeah? Alright. And we’re together. I’m not lost.”

Jon makes a grunt of acknowledgement, inclining his head in agreement, impatiently, as though he knows all this, like he begrudges being reminded. But clearly this knowledge hasn’t stained every part of his waking yet, because there are tears slipping unwanted from his eyes and his hand grips Martin harder.

His gaze flickers like a camera shutter from the floor and its foot-scuffed rug to Martin, back and forth. Martin wishes, not for the first time, that Jon could just ask for what he wants. Could stop feeling like he needs to justify every out-reaching motion to himself, approaching physical affection like he’s trying to do the cryptic bloody crossword.

He’s learning. They both are.

“What do you want me to do?” Martin asks instead.

Jon’s eyes finally linger on him. Cheeks damp, eyes red. He removes his hand from Martin’s grip like he’s unmooring a ship from port. His next movements being planned behind his eyes. A methodical consideration of angle, of intent, of reciprocation that’s as much caution as it is overthinking. Martin wonders sometimes whether this is the Jon he always was, or the Jon that’s been made by this world and all that’s been laid against him. Maybe it’s one or the other or both, or maybe it doesn’t matter much any more. This is Martin’s Jon, the Jon that is, the one that is thinking about how he’s going to place his limbs as though there’s a wrong way to it, who will steady himself before he’ll reach out. But who always does, eventually, in his own time.

His arms encircle Martin’s neck now. A pause, a release of air, before he’s pulling back, fretting like something hasn’t worked. But he clearly wants something, enough to push through his dissatisfaction, face folded in on itself unhappily before it sets in determination and then he goes for around Martin’s chest, fingers steadying, finding their own bony handholds in the material of Martin’s jumper. The right angles of his elbows, the washboard of his ribs felt under his shirt, they don’t have any give and Martin shifts a little to ease the hard sensation of it, try and reorient them better. Jon picks up on this, already trying to shift again or perhaps even move away, and if his tongue could still form apologies, he’d be making them.

Martin’s arms come round decisively, closing the circuit of them.

“Stop fussing,” he murmurs, and Jon quietens. Face against the round of Martin’s chest, the hand that’s not still gripped vice-like carefully combining through his damp hair.

“This ok?” Martin says finally, wanting to know, wanting Jon to feel like he can tell him.

Jon lifts his head. Nods, brings their lips together for a skimming kiss, like he’s sealing the sentiment.

He shuffles his body so he’s wedged next to Martin, taking up any crevice he finds. After a moment, pulling and positioning Martin’s arm back over his shoulder, so it drapes heavy and solid and present. A lightness on his face that sleep couldn’t achieve but a victory Martin likes to claim as his own every time.

It is no hardship for Martin to understand every one of these expressions just fine.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #no cws or tws #fluff #post 160

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sunflowersseemhappy · 4 years

Text

“I will find you - Part Two” Asra X Gender Neutral MC (Angst)

God I had a lot of feelings for this particular prompt, it just makes my heart bleed. It’s got some adult themes, so 15+ only, unless you think you’re ready for it (suggestions of rape, drugging below the cut (saying that just makes it sound worse than it is.)

Please send me asks, I want to know what you want to read!

“I will find you…” The promise echoes in your head waking you from your restless sleep, taking a slow breath, eyes tightly shut you let Asra’s voice wash over you. Asra has never said those word before, at least not to your recollection. So why did it feel like he was standing right beside you when those words ran through your bones and tingled over your skin? As you think of Asra behind the closed lids of your eyes you feel your stomach clench. The last time you had seen him and Faust, the two had been bleeding on the floor at your knees beaten mercilessly by the bandits who had stolen you away for whatever intentions they now had. You only hoped that healing spell had been enough to keep Asra and Faust from death’s door…

Swallowing thickly at the dryness of your throat, you pry your eyes open, not quite ready to see the harsh reality of the situation before you. Perhaps restless sleep had been better. Sat just a few metres back from the campfire you have become keenly aware of the rope binding your hands together, a post to your back keeping you in place. Pins and needles have crawled into your legs, and the rope is digging into your wrists as you test them against your strength. Nothing gives.

“Well this was a bust,” five bandits sit closer to the campfire, most of their backs turned to you. Yet you can see the empty bottles at their feet and the familiar sight of yours and Asra’s knapsacks in their hands as they shuffle through the bags. “They don’t own anything worth a gold piece!”

“At least the guy had some nice trinkets,” you recognise the face of the man shuffling through Asra’s bag as the bandit who had held the knife to your throat. His brown eyes glinting greedily in the firelight as he pulls and odd coin and a few gemstones from the bag. He looks toward one of his compatriots and speaks with an accusing tone. “Shame about that lavender snake. Reckon that would have been worth a penny or two, people love exotic pets like ‘em. Right, Abbas?”

“Ah back off Imani, stupid thing was feral the way it bit me. Would have cost us keeping it around, probably wouldn’t even sell at Saventia.” From your stance you glare at the man, Abbas, sitting broodingly on a log as he twists the end of a reddened bandage covering his right hand. His dark eyes catch you watching him. “Speaking of pets, our new one is awake.”

Five pairs of eyes lock onto you as all the men divert their attention toward you, averting your own eyes you try to make yourself as small as possible. Waves of nausea making your stomach flip anxiously as you play those hungry looks in their eyes, unlike any you’ve seen before.

“I say we get our fun in before we go to Saventia tomorrow,” Abbas looks you up and down hungrily eying your body. Ice cold dread runs through your veins at the words, your hands pushing at the rope binding them behind your back. As you glance up you see the men glare between each other, a silent battle of wills playing between them all.

“I’m the one who grabbed ‘em, I should get my turn first.” Imani grunts gesturing at the group with bravado. Another bandit, scrawnier than the rest stands up with a pout.

“I’m the one that spotted them in the first place!”

“I’m the one who almost got his hand bit off!” Abbas yells, as the men bicker between themselves carefully work your wrists against the rope. Breathing shakily your eyes dart toward the men, all of them engrossed with their arguing as two of them begin to brawl with one another. The rope is burning and scraping against your skin as you work faster to loosen them, ignoring the pain you feel triumph surge through you as some of the rope gives.

“Come on…” Whispering quietly to yourself you straighten your back and press your fingers to the rope, fumbling with the idea of a spell to use. Heat surges through your fingertips, making you bite back a cry as heat sears the rope and the skin beneath. Sooner than you expect the heat burns through the rope freeing your wrists, free your body is on automatic. Legs standing unsteadily like a newborn animal, you ignore the numb feeling and stumble back away from the camp turning to run.

“Not so fast!” Yelping as you are tackled from behind your triumph quickly turns to unbridled fear as arms pin you to the ground with great force. Abbas, the bitten man crouches above you. Fighting against him, you try to bat the man with your arms the searing pain in your wrists ignored. He holds you firm with a grim look, his strength indisputable and your own fear clouding your mind.

“Hold still! Or I’ll bash your head in like I did your boyfriend.” Yelling angrily Abbras sneers as you fall still at the threat, tears forming in your eyes. All hope for freedom gone.

“Please don’t-”

“Shut. Up.” His hand tangles itself in your hair as the bandit pushes your face into the dirt, his strength and body dominating your own as he leans over you. “You’re gonna behave! Got that?” Shaking beneath him, Abbras presses his palm against your head, waiting for a reply. His hand slowly pressing your face against the ground; stones painfully digging into your skin as skull is pressed upon. Finally, you cry out before nodding your head slowly.

“Yes…”

Head bowed you stare into your lap, this time your legs are bound at the ankles, your arms stretched out above your head to keep them visible. Dread sitting in the pit of your stomach as the men talk amongst themselves, petty squabbles seemingly resolves as they nod between each other and gesture toward you.

“Let’s get on with it then,” grunts one of the men, as they turn to you the intention behind each one’s eyes makes you wriggle against your bindings as they approach. The man who held you at knife point holds a bottle of sickly brown liquid in one hand, his face seemingly disappointed at whatever agreement they have between them. Abbras is first at your side, catching your chin even as you shy away from his grip.

“Step out of line and I’ll hurt you,” squeezing your jaw threateningly he pinches your jaw, so your mouth opens, even as you wriggle the lip of the brown bottle is placed against your own. With little choice you swallow the bitter tasting liquid coughing as it coats your throat, at this the men laugh between them watching as your head slowly goes limp in Abbras’ hand. Your entire body out of touch with your mind.

“That was nice and quick,” the voices of the men are muddied together, groaning you try desperately to keep your mind afloat, eyes fluttering open and shut. Whatever they have done to you has made everything go foggy, but through it you can feel your head lifted up. Abbras, or perhaps a monster grinning darkly at the sight of the weariness in your eyes.

“You and me are going to have a little fun,” everything is distorted and horrifying, as you feel cold lips devour your own. Foul stench of alcohol washing into your mouth as the monster forces himself on you chuckling at your drugged state, helpless underneath him. Whimpering against his mouth, tears slip from your eyes and trail down your cheeks as he paws at your body through your clothes. Stuttering as his hands skim and pinch your hips, feeling you as his mouth breaks away and bites harshly along your neck.

“No…” Weakly you shift your body as he feels along you, hands grabbing at your hips then your waist, up to your chest. “Please-” He bites hard on your neck, blood seeping from broken skin. As he does so his hands find the buttons at your shirt, fumbling to undo them. Openly crying you try to block the world out, unable to stop him. Asra’s face flashes across your vision, a light in the dark and tremulous world around you. Steeling yourself, you prepare for the worst, but nothing else comes.

Blind fury envelops Asra at the sight of the men touching you, emotions rolling through his body he barely feels the magic blast out of his fingers, striking the men away from you. Pain and rage batting the men away from you, Y/N, tremoring in fear on the floor waiting for whatever is next. As the magic fades, Asra stumbles to your side, Faust peeping out from his scarf with concern radiating from her small eyes.

“Y/N scared?” Breathing unsteadily Asra’s fury subsides, blinking back the red tint that shrouded his gaze. Hands shaking as he reaches for you, taking in the image of you shivering uncontrollably, half the buttons of your shirt undone, baring the red marks sitting along your neck and shoulders. Blood dripping from a few and staining the edges of your clothes.

“Please don’t hurt me…” Murmuring softly you do your best to curl up against the pole, your vision clouded, and senses dulled. A figure comes to kneel beside you, and you feebly kick out against them as the bindings at your feet come loose. “No. Stop-” Jerking away from them you feel hands cradle your face despite the trembling of your lip and the tears trailing your face the touch is uncharacteristically gentler than you expect.

“Y/N it’s me,” the voice sounds familiar, but the haze feeds your fear, making you lose yourself as you continue to fight out. “It’s Asra! I’m here Y/N, please stop fighting me.” You bite back your hope and shake your head mumbling incomprehensively, as Asra pleads with you. Struggling heartily as his hands untie the rope around your wrists, you try to back away, but strong hands grip your shoulders. Keeping you in place but not forcing you to do anything else.

“Don’t lie, you’re not him!” You accuse, planting a hand against him and pushing against his chest. “He’s gone, I failed.” At this Asra pauses, hurt in his eyes, but you don’t see it. Faust winds around his neck comfortingly as the realisation dawns. Whatever happened, all you feel and see is fear and blind panic.

“Look at me Y/N,” Asra’s insistent tone almost gets you to look but you shake your head. Swallowing thickly Asra slowly cups his hands to your face, tilting your closed eyes toward his face and gazing at you with heartbreak. “Y/N… I am here, I’m alive. You saved me and Faust, remember? That spell saved us, you saved us. Please love. Look at me, feel me. I’m here.” Taking his time Asra moves his hand to your one splayed against his chest. Tempted to resist you give pause and let his hand guide yours to his chest, gasping as the feeling of his heart beating in tandem with your own.

“You’re here?” You sigh questioningly.

“Yes Y/N, I’m here.” You bite your lip and force yourself to open your eyes, Asra’s amethyst gaze calming the turmoil in your heart. You can’t help but sob as you look at his face, bruised and dirty there are many small cuts running across his face, but its him. Your walls break down as your body melts against his own, Asra’s arms holding you to him.

“Asra-” Words fail you as you dissolve into relieved sobs, burying your face into his chest. “You came, just like you promised…” Slumping in relief, Asra feels himself begin to breakdown against you. Wrenching sobs coming from both your bodies as fear and relief wash over you, all together again. You, Asra and Faust, curling eagerly between you with her own way of hugging. Asra holds you tighter than he ever has before, clenching you against his chest as if he would lose you again.

“I will always find you.”

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toxiccaptain · 4 years

Text

Bully OC Meme

[template by @video-space ]

Name: Jackson Bianchi

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Bisexual

Clique: Greasers

Personality: loyal, genuine, good-natured, hardworking

Weapons/fighting style of choice: brick / pocket knife

[Dialogue]

Greetings:

-Aye man, what’s up.

-How’s it going dude?

-Hey.

-Oh hey there

-Hello ma’am

-Hello sir

-What’s up

-Heya

-How is it?

Saying Goodbye:

-I gotta go, see ya

-Bye dude.

-See ya later

-Ah, I must go.

-I’ll catch you later

Chasing:

-I’ll catch up eventually!

-You can’t run forever!

-Get back here coward!

-Running won’t save your face from my fist!

-A game a chase, fun!

-You can run, but you can’t hide!

-I’ll hunt you down!

-Where do you think you’re going!?

Out of breath:

-Maybe,, smoking isn’t ,,the way to go

-Damnit dude,, I feel out of shape

-I,, could’ve swore this was easier,,

-Guess,,I gotta lay off the smokes,,

-Holy hell,,

-I’ll get you,, later

-I’m getting too worked up on a shrimp

-Maybe if I wasn’t in this jacket I’d get you

-I shouldn’t be outta breath this quickly

Walking around talking to themselves:

-Maybe if the prefects weren’t around, I could’ve done more damage to the kid.

-I wonder what peanut thinks of me.

-The Harringtons will get what they deserve, eventually.

-Wonder if the greasers enjoy my upgrades.

-I need to buy more parts, or steal them.

-I need to sharpen my knife.

-Johnny needs to leave that tramp Lola, she has nothing to herself.

-Lola shouldn’t call herself a cheap slut if she even opens her legs for Hopkins.

-Maybe being rich has its perks, but that shouldn’t be known.

-Those stupid preps make me wanna light their stupid house up.

-Everything is boring, why can’t there be more blood.

-This school should get new parts for the cars.

-Gotta upgrade my ride.

-Peanut is a charming dude, wonder is he thinks the same with me.

-Gotta visit dad soon.

-Stupid prefects, always have to ruin the fun.”

-If crabblesnitch really cared for security then why’d he get a bunch of kids to do it.

-Id choke him out if I got the chance.

-I’ll break their face if they got near him.

-If I picked up peanut, would he be mad?

-I forget Larry doesn’t like the nickname peanut, but I think it’s cute.

-I enjoy being around girls but I like peanut more.

-Vance is kinda cute, is that too gay to say?

-I surround myself with guys that are good looking, and I’m not complaining.

-If johnny likes guys, I’d take him off lolas hands

-Being tall sucks sometimes, but it’s fun to pick people up.

-The girls in this school aren’t that half bad looking

-Beatrice isn’t that ugly, I wonder what everyone sees

Conversing:

-Did you hear about the new kid? Thinks he’s the toughest kid here.

-Smith is someone to stay away from, he really can piss people off.

-Heard burton flirts with the girls, surprised that bastard isn’t in prison.

-Poor Galloway man, all he wants to do is drink.

-Something’s going on between crabblsnitch and Danvers, and it’s weird.

-Danvers doesn’t like me, which makes it harder to get away with some things.

-Did you hear about the jocks? How they like to play with their balls, hate to be in their position

-This school is filled with nothing but morons. No offense

-Ms.phillips likes to be friendly with me, should I be weirded out?

-The prefects in this place suck.

Conversation responses:

-Damn man

-Yeah dude, I hear ya

-That sucks man

-I feel you man, but stuff happens.

-All we gotta do is let it slide for now.

-Once we get out of here, maybe things won’t be as bad.

-Wouldn’t doubt it dude.

-You said it man.

Complaining:

-ah man, everything stinks in the dorm

-dude, what the hell is up with everyone, you either love em or hate em

-hate that I can’t have what I want around here

-what does Lola have that gets so much attention, Shes so fake

-I’m attractive and smart, why are the idiots getting the good stuff

-can’t have fun, I bring up how much I love seeing dead animals and all of a sudden they think I’m mental

Unknown/cut dialogue:

-they can’t put me on meds, I’m not mental.

-at least I’m not the one taking medication

- do you get lost in the color red too?

-ever wanted to hear how a bone sounds when it breaks?

-I was invited to a party by tad himself, I think it’s a setup but I kinda wanna risk it and go

-keep barking at me and I’ll bite your head off

-people like to test the waters, only to regret it soon after

-I’m not gay but I’d totally make out with him

Starting fights with cliques:

[bullies]

-cmon you hardheaded punk, let’s go

-you’re gonna get a beat down

-let’s see how much blood comes out your skull

-you’re too weak to push me around loser

[preps]

-c’mon rich kid, can’t buy your way outta this one

-put your money where your mouth is preppy

-I’ll dirty your damn vest with your blue blood punk

-might have money but I’m sure you can’t fight

[nerds]

-your glasses are gonna need a repair when I’m done with you

-you supposedly know it all, let’s see how true that is

-you nerds can’t handle the heat

-you’ll get more than a wedgie when I’m done with you

[jocks]

- cmon meatheads, let’s see how much you can handle from a real challenge

-you idiots are really asking for it

-you’re not tough, you’re just all talk

-your helmet won’t save you from that you got coming to you

[townies]

- you guys aren’t even smart enough to stay in school

-why you even trying? You got nothing to your name!

-you think you scare me? I got a knife with your name on it idiots

-you act more like animals than people, no wonder you’re away from the school

-I’ll call the pound on you losers

Requesting an errand:

-hey hopkins, you got a minute?

-yo jimmy, I’ll give you a 20 if you get me something

-aye, dude help me real quick, I’ll pay

-do me a solid and I’ll give you cash back for it

-Help me out, I’ll give something in return, I swear

Friendly comments:

-hey there dude, how are things holding up for ya?

-it’s good to see you’re doing well

-you look good today

-you’re a cool dude, I enjoy talking to you

-looking sharp Hopkins

Unfriendly comments:

-who let the rat out of its cage.

-smells like someone left the trash out

-best keep it moving or else we’ll have problems new kid.

-does it hurt moron?

-guessing they had no room with the freaks for ya

-you gonna cry loser?

[Extra]

Demanding Flowers:

-would be nice if you showed some interest

-words can only go so far

-you gonna give me something for memory?

-a gift would be nice

After receiving flowers:

-look at you, prepared and such

-awe, for me? Aren’t you a sweet thing

-how cute, making me feel all special

-you’re very charming

Before kissing:

-wanna see how far it’ll go?

-Ya know, I can give something else back if you’d like

-I’d like to see if you’re as sweet as you seem

-you expecting something in return?

Post-kissing:

-not bad for someone of your standards

-This doesn’t make us anything

-Sweep me off my feet why don’t you

-can tell this isn’t your first rodeo

-you got guts for doing that

-I won’t lie, I enjoyed that

[i have no friends so I ain’t tagging anyone]

#bullworth academy #my art #bully: canis canem edit #bully: scholarship edition #canis canem edit #bully canis canem edit #oc #bully oc #jackson bianchi #bully scholarship edition #bully #scholarship edition

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xxcureangelxx · 3 years

Note

5, 9, 10, 13, 20, 21, 24, 25, 28, 30-35, 38-42, 44-46, 50, 52, 54, 60-62, 66, 71-74, 86-91, 96, 100! 😊

okay I literally have no clue how old this is and if I'm even taking the questions from the right post but here goes I guess? 🙈

5. What is your favorite Color?

PURPLE

9. How tall are you?

about 1,70 meters or 5'7"

10. What shoe size are you?

size 40-41, I think that's about 8 in US sizes?

13. What talents do you have?

uhhh good question... not sure if it counts but I guess I'm quite good at a lot if things but can't do anything extraordinarily well?

20. Are you religious?

Absolutely not. Due to family history and a lot of other things I'm actually against it a lot but people can do whatever they feel like is right for them as long as they don't harm others with it.

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

Yes, quite a lot actually. practically grew up in hospitals as a baby because of kidney issues, broke both my legs with 4 years old, had to revisit for tests a lot during my childhood because of the kidney issue. it calmed down afterwards until I was back in hospital last year because of my terrible mental health and I'm currently in a rehabilitation clinic for it as well.

24. Baths or showers?

Shower's because we don't have a bathtub

25. What color socks are you wearing?

currently none, I love going barefoot, but usually I wear white, gray or black. I know... I'm a bad gay.. no rainbow socks (;ŏ﹏ŏ)

28. What type of music do you like?

you know.... I hate this question with a passion even though I love music so I'll just throw in my yt-playlist here and everyone who's interested can look through it to get a picture xD not sorted in any way and not a conclusive list at all, I just add songs as I find them

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

mostly just one at a time but I've got two different ones. one is the normal fluffy kinda pillow, the other is made of some kinda foam material and rather thin.

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

I'm always lying on the side! have been doing that since I was a baby too.

32. How big is your house?

compared to what? 🙈 I'd say decent size for 5 people to live in, would have space for 1-2 more if rooms were used differently but definitely not enough to comfortably live with 12 or even more people like my family used to. we've got like 3 proper sleeping rooms (one of which is the attic so not very nice in terms of heat and the staircase is smack in the middle of the room), a kitchen, a dining room, a big living room, a tiny bathroom that barely fits a toilet and shower, and the basement is a mix of storage, electrics and stuff, washing room/utility room and it's got another smaller room that's been turned back into a small workshop but used to be the room of my brother and later my grandmother.

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

I guess this is where it shows that I'm german but we usually just eat bread (preferably whole grain) with cheese or slices of salami or ..meat sausage? is that a proper translation? 🤨 idk... it's rather simple really. on the weekend maybe buns and boiled eggs. on the occasion that I'm too tired for it or don't have enough time I eat cereals but it's not very common when I'm at work/school

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

No, and I don't want to

35. Have you ever tried archery?

Yes!! I did last year when I was in the hospital and it was super fun! was quite good at it as well, even for my first try 😤

38. What's the longest you've ever gone without sleep?

I think about 3 days? if we count "barely unconscious for a few hours" as sleep that is... otherwise no clue...my memory of the bad sleepless time is quite hazy lol

39. Do you have any scars?

yeah, quite a few tbh. got 2 huge ones from surgeries due to my kidney issues, well they look like 2 but it's actually multiple ones since they simply cut open party of the old ones again, tiny hooman apparently have very little skin. then I got some other ones here and there from accidents, general dumbness, etc, like when I cut through my sunday morning bun and almost cut half of the tip of my finger off because my mother sharpened the knife and didn't tell me or that time as a kid I couldn't wait for my ironing pearl pictures to be done and burned myself on the hot iron, mostly stuff like that.

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

I mean.. if they're a secret... how would I know? ;) not sure if it counts that it took me months to realize I had a crush on my best friend and the feelings were reciprocated and I was too blind to see the signs?

41. Are you a good liar?

Nope. People actually think I'm lying more often than I lie... so.... :/

42. Are you a good judge of character?

I'm.. honestly not sure what this one means? like, am I able to judge what kind of character a person has after barely meeting them or smth? if so, I'm terrible at it

44. Do you have a strong accent?

in german? nope. in english? hmm hard to judge since I rarely hear myself speak. I think the stuff I do know how to pronounce is mostly okay but since I learned it through reading I'm simply unsure of a lot of pronunciations. 'also'.... I can not for the life of me pronouns that word no matter how many times I hear it... it's kinda become a quirk after some classmates pointed it out to me and I'm incredibly aware how terrible I say the word but.... just can't get rid of it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

45. What is your favorite accent?

I.. actually really love the way my best friend talks? 👉👈 they're french btw. just... typical me for struggling to understand them though, already terrible at it in german too...

46. What is your personality type?

honestly, I don't think I can answer that. I'm big on self loathing and everything's pretty shitty so, no thanks

50. Left or right handed?

Right handed. but does it even count id I'm bad at doing things with that hand too? lol

52. Favorite food?

hmmmm tough question... not the biggest fan of food in general a lot of the time... probably Züricher Geschnetzeltes

54. Are you a clean or a messy person?

Definitely messy. my allergies did not like this post trying to clean and tidy up more often though. my depression does not like this post either

60. Do you talk to yourself?

sometimes. quite a bit when watching movies or if I mess stuff up

61. Do you sing to yourself?

barely. got a lot of bad experiences with that so i keep my singing to a minimum. my shower is a great listener though

62. Are you a good singer?

I was in a choir for a few years when I went to 'middle school' and I had like one solo part once but other than that I can't really say because I barely ever sing in front of people

66. Do you like long or shor hair?

this question is currently my absolute nemesis.. I've got suuuper duper long hair and have had it ever since elementary school and I used to be super happy with it and sometimes I still am happy with it but other days, depending on where I'm at genderwise, I absolutely hate it and I just want to take the closest scissors and cut it all off... currently haven't had the guts to look for new hair styles though... but in other people? or women more specifically? I love long hair 🥺

71. What makes you nervous?

Or the shorter question: what doesn't make me nervous... I'd say pretty much everything has got the potential to make me nervous. I'm an overthinker, anxiety is a big thing for me and ptsd makes me scared of almost everything. so.. yeah... sucks to be me sometimes ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

72. Are you scared of the dark?

Yes, very

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

I try not to but sadly I sometimes do, even if it's not my place to. I really don't like that part and hope I'll be able to learn not to sometime

74. Are you ticklish?

Yes and I hate it 😭

86. What are you allergic to?

again, easier question: what am I not allergic to... it's... a lot... like, really a lot. with the test on the skin of my arm I reacted to every single substance and the more thorough blood test lead to much of the same result. the absolute worst are birch trees (pitty, love those), then the usual pollen of pretty much every tree or flower, all animals with fur or feathers, dust and... yeah list goes on and on, you get the picture... :/

87. Do you keep a journal?

no.. have tried to multiple times in the past but never made it more than a week... too depressing to write and read... the therapist at the rehab clinic is currently forcing me to try a positivity diary for the millionths time, can't even get that done each day even though I'm doing it on my phone and get notifications to do it each evening...

88. What do your parents do?

making my life hell lol.. okay on a serious note, my father was a car electrician, he's retired by now, my mother is a housewife, she used to work different jobs before her first kid, later on she took care of my grandmother who was suffering from dementia, got some money and retirement points for that too.

89. Do you like your age?

I-... I don't know? it's weird because I both feel a lot younger and a lot older than I am rn....

90. What makes you angry?

another tough question... I actually have anger issues in that way that I'm barely capable of feeling anger... used to be worse but I already worked a lot on it in therapy so there's at least some there now... in the past I simply started to cry and felt overwhelmed by sadness whenever I was supposed to feel anger... so I can't tell very well what makes me angry because I first have to realize that I'm feeling anger or more like should be feeling it....

91. Do you like your own name?

Not really, no, but I guess I finally figured out some reasons why.. I've recently started going by a bit of a different name too but only my closest friends know so far and I'm not sure if I'll be using it irl at all..

96. How did you get your name?

I'm still trying to get my mother to admit that she named me after this song but she keeps denying it.. she's a fan of this band so it would have fit.. but she keeps saying she just liked the name, no long thought process behind it..

my chosen name is a bit of a different story. an ex friend I got to know through yt gave me that nickname almost 10 years ago after I complained that you can't make a shorter nickname out of my birthname and it's also the name of s character I like, especially his voice, and... idk it just feels more gender neutral and I simply feel comfortable with it. it just fit.

100. Color of your room?

same as question 5: Purple 🥰 or... well half the walls are purple, the other half is white

phew... can't believe I made it through all of these....

in case people haven't noticed yet, I'm currently kinda getting back into tumblr? I think I've already stayed a lot longer than any times I tried getting back before. it mostly started because we've got super bad wifi at the clinc I'm at rn and reddit takes up waaayy too much mobile data and... idk, I guess I just missed the vibe of tumblr

I'm not sure how long I'll be able to stick around but we'll see

#ask game #answered #I really really do not have any clue how long this has been sitting in my inbox...#the og post was somewhere around december if I saw that correctly (๑•﹏•)#oopsie...#just hope posting goes through snd my 3 hours of hard work weren't for nothing....#edit; posting worked but tumblr messed up the formating...#I'm not gonna bother fixing that because it's late and I need sleep 😭

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tansypoisoning · 5 years

Text

What You Have (part three of “What You Need”)

Life as an unemployed, homeless wanderer was hard, until you met Captain America. Then it got worse.

Part 1 - Part 2

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Genres: Smut, Yandere, creepy shit

Ships: Steve RogersxReader

Relavant Characters: Reader (PoV), Steve Rogers

Universe: Post Civil War, canon compliant (except for the whole Steve losing his marbles thing)

Content Warnings: Dark!Steve Rogers, kidnapping, yandere, abuse

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Steve was already gone by the time you woke up. You knew he meant to leave that day, but you didn’t think you’d be so lucky as to not have to deal with him in the morning. You searched to whole house just to be safe, and he was nowhere to be found.

Maybe he had really left, maybe he walked out to do something and would be back in a second, or maybe it was a test of some kind; either way, you would take the time you had away from him to look for something that could breach the door (a blowtorch would do) and something to fend off wild animals (you were hoping for a bazooka). You spent the best part of three hours combing through every drawer and cupboard, looking under all the beds and behind all the furniture, and even hitting walls in search of hidden passages. If there was anything that could aid you in your escape, it was hidden in a place you couldn't get to.

Deep down you knew you were kidding yourself. Even if you could leave the building and had the guts to shoot a lion, you couldn't go back home by foot, and Steve had to have taken the jet. If you were to ever escape, you’d have to wait for him to come back.

You took a shower, your skin turning raw from the water temperature and your aggressive rubbing. Your reflection in the mirror barely looked like you, and one of your cheeks was swollen.

Breakfast was much the same as it had been yesterday, aside from the small bag of frozen berries in the back of the fridge that you ate in one sitting, and you spent most of your day watching the uninspired collection of DVDs, sometimes pausing to check the local channels or making sure you had looked everywhere for a possible means of escape (you had).

You avoided the pen and the blank piece of paper that had been left in the coffee table – the list Steve expected you to write.

What you wanted… What you truly wanted was to have your freedom back, but he wasn’t going to give you that. You weren’t sure what he was willing to give you, really. He implied you should tell him what you wanted from the time before he’d kidnapped you, but the truth was that you just wanted enough money to pay rent. You didn’t exactly have the brain space or time to dream about the future, what with all the job searching and panic attacks. Even if you figured out what all your dreams for the future were, none of them would include Steve.

Could you ask him to give you something that would let you get away from him? Internet access, a car and a force-field that repealed super humans? He said there wasn’t a right answer, but you suspected there were wrong ones. If you refused to make a choice, would he accept you wanted nothing from him or would he just choose for you? You didn’t want to think about it, so you didn’t. When he came back, you’d just tell him to return you to your former life. If he was going to make you miserable no matter what, you figured you might as well return the favor.

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Steve arrived the day after the next when you were heating your dinner and watching ‘National Treasure’ for the fourth. You didn’t even hear him coming in, whirling around when you heard your name being called behind you. He was standing by the kitchen island, smiling fondly at you.

“It’s nice to see you’ve been doing well while I was gone.” He said. You didn’t think his comment merited a response, so you didn’t reply.

Not one to let your obvious displeasure ruin his mood, he smiled wider and pointed at the microwave “I don’t presume you are making something for me too?”

“No.” You answered and moved to look at your food and watch it spinning round and round. You heard Steve jump over the counter and approach you. The sound of the movie was loud, but now that you knew he was there your senses were attuned to him and only him.

He touched your elbow, and your head twitched to the side in reflex. He leaned over and pressed his lips to yours. He didn’t attempt to delve his tongue in your mouth or make you return the gesture, and he pulled away once you began to shiver. There was still the same dopey, loving look in his eyes, and you turned back to the microwave so you wouldn’t have to keep seeing it.

Steve sighed and walked to the fridge. “Did you do what I asked?”

You acted like he wasn’t talking to you, like the most interesting thing in the world was the TV dinner spinning, and spinning, and spinning…

“Baby, did you write the list?” His voice raised “Did you think about what you want?”

The endless cycle of rotation of the spaghetti wasn’t the most interesting thing in the room, but it was the only one you wanted to acknowledge. It was making you dizzy-

There was a shuffling, metallic noise, then a kitchen knife embedded itself on the counter beside you, cracking the marble on its way. The microwave beeped, but you didn’t reach for the meal inside.

“Did you write the list?” Steve’s whisper was soft, deceptively so.

You squeaked out a ‘no’ and he inhaled deeply before letting go of the knife’s handle and moving away from you.

“I guess we’re staying in here a little longer.” He lamented “I really don’t want to do this, but if you don’t make some choices soon I’ll have to do it for you. You have to tell me what you want.”

Suddenly remembering what you had told yourself on your first day there without Steve, you pivoted on your heels and braced yourself against the counter for courage.

“I want to go home.” You said, watching as he turned to look at you. His brows were furrowed, and he was smiling, but you knew you had made him even angrier.

“Home? You don’t have a home.”

“My car.” You insisted “I want my life back. Take me back.”

Steve’s fingers poked through the packet of squash ravioli he had taken out of the freezer, and you inched closer to the kitchen knife that was still perched on the counter-top. How nice of him to leave it there for you…

“I know that’s not what you wanted.” He shook his head.

“It’s what I want now.” And it was true. You didn’t want much when you were living in your car, but now you longed for the life you had once loathed.

Steve huffed, looked away from you, tapped his feet, drummed his fingers on the fridge – moved like he was trying to remove himself from that moment. Like he was trying to hold himself back.

“Fine.” He said at last “I’m taking you back.”

“What?” You blurted out.

“After dinner.” He offered no further explanation and approached you, box still in hand “Aren’t you going to get your food?”

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The night air was cold, and standing on the rooftop in what amounted to pajamas wasn’t doing you any favors. A coat would be nice, but Steve hadn’t given you any, probably out of spite. He looked at ease in his full body suit, doing checks and double checks to make sure the jet was safe while you shook in your loose shorts. You didn’t know how much of that inspection was necessary.

The second trip was the exact opposite of the first: you didn’t sleep, Steve didn’t get you covers, and you shivered all the way through, but you were happy. You were going back! It felt too good to be true – several times you had considered the possibility of this being a lie, that he wasn’t taking you home at all, but why would he bother?

Hours of hopeful anticipation later, and you were landing in the very spot the jet had been when Steve took you. He had been honest, at least as far as taking you back went.

You jumped out of the vehicle as soon as the ramp was lowered enough to give you the room to slip through. You could feel Steve right behind you, but all thought about was running to your car. You found it easily, just where it had been left and unlocked, but you feared you wouldn’t be able to turn it on.

“Are you sure you want to go?” Steve asked as you were getting into the front seat. Spoken like he’d just asked you if you were sure you wanted to leave in the drizzle without an umbrella…

You frowned, nodded out of habit, and jammed the key in the ignition switch. The motor started easily, and you scrambled for the wheel to get out of there as fast as you could, just barely resisting the urge to ram your car into him (there was a high chance that things would turn out worse for you if you did.)

You looked at the man in your rear-view mirror, watched him get smaller and smaller as you ascended the slope. You couldn’t believe it. You had escaped? Just like that? It made no sense. Why would he take you and go to such extreme measure to keep you, then let you go after you insisted a couple of times? No way, there was no way…

Even after you were long gone and couldn't see Steve anymore, you remained suspicious. He had to be plotting something, but as you sped away from him and his jet the past three days started feeling more and more like a bad dream.

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Some people would say freedom smelled like clean air, others apple pie, and then some that would say that it smelled like cow shit. All wrong.

Freedom smelled like rejection.

Another job you didn’t get, another day of grinding wasted on people who wouldn’t hire you even to wipe their toilet, but that was fine by you. It had been five weeks since Steve returned you to your car, and you were still as glad to be back to your chaotic life as you were the first day. Captain America had taught you to appreciate your rotten situation, who would’ve thought?

You exited the building, smoothing a hand over your nicest pair of slacks, and made your way to the parking lot across the street. You fished for your keys on the way, finding them when you arrived at the spot you’d parked. You looked up and began laughing hysterically.

It was gone. It was fucking gone. Your car, which you had left right there, along with all you had – it was all gone, vanished, only an oil puddle left where your entire life had been less than an hour ago.

You dropped the keys, then to your knees, your giggles morphing into ugly wails. You didn’t know what to do next. If there was a way out of this plight you weren’t seeing it, and you didn’t feel like looking for it at the moment. You had nothing and none, and you were so consumed by grief you couldn’t think. Your emotional state inhibited all rational thoughts beyond the one that told you not to choke to death on your own tears.

A painful lump grew in your throat, and you brought your hands to your neck in hopes your fingers would make things better, but nothing could make things better – not your own touch, and not the one from the person that had approached you from behind and decided to grab your shoulder like an old friend. You had no true friends, old or new, so you turned around with a scowl to tell the weirdo to get off, but the words died in your throat when you saw him.

You should’ve known it would be Steve. None in their right mind would want you old beat up cart; it was falling apart. The only two reasons for someone to take it were to sell it for parts or to destroy your life, and he had stakes in one of these things.

You had been foolish enough to believe he had been serious. Were you so eager to escape you had allowed him to fool you, or had he been clear in his intentions and you just lied to yourself? Had your future been sealed from the moment Steve decided he wanted you?

His eyes were soft and his smile was comforting. You wanted to wipe his fake fucking face in the pavement, but all you could do was cry.

“Are you ready to be honest with me now?” He asked.

That was the end of the line. You had no way to run, nothing to warm and protect you at night. You could tell him to go to hell and maybe he’d go, but then what would be of you? You’d have your freedom, but without a place or a friend there was no telling how long that would last.

Better the devil you know.

You turned on your knees until you were facing him, then tugged on his hand. Steve pulled you to your feet, and his grin now barely concealed his self-satisfied glee.

“Yes.” You whispered in between sobs “Take me home.”

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A/N: This is just a transition chapter so it’s not very exciting. I’m planning on two more chapters, and part 4 should be the longest and take a while, but it’s going to have the highest density of smut so that’s nice.

#DENSE SMUT lol more like dense me #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #dark!fic #MCU fanfiction #dark mcu fanfiction #mine #What You Need

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unikornu · 4 years

Text

Lucy Feit - headcannons and overall presentation,

Lucy Feit - current occupation: Overboss of Nuka World and Gage’s “business” partner.

Pre-war: court defender - then gang member and personal agent/tool under the firm hand of her past boss and criminal figure - Harrison.

Appearance: Fairly small gal (5'3'' - 160cm) with slim/agile body type at her 27th’s - still quite young. Pale skin but after wandering through wasteland a bit more rosy. Medium length bright blond straight hair, longer in the back, choppy looking since the wastelands best hairdresser is a knife or an old pair of scissors. Tends to tie her hair into two braids as well. Dark amber eyes covered with thick layer of black carbon powder all around to sharpen the softness of her face. Scar under her right eye caused by the knife she carries and got after a hassle with commonwealth raider. Three tattoos - an ace skull on the right upper side of her forehead, white waster skull next to her left eye and a dagger on the left side of her neck. Small thin nose, downward turned lips, her face expression most of the time bored or doubtful but as she starts drinking or having some fun it turns into a grin. She has a burn marks on top of her hands and softer ones at the palms, hidden most of the time under her gloves as she is ashamed of them.

Character: Pretty calm but inpatient, snarky, sarcastic and careless most of the time. Tends to be impulsive and acts first before thinking of consequences which annoys Gage quite often. She isn’t the brilliant smart mind but is very intelligent due to her pre-war occupation (being smart vs intelligent are two different things). Compulsive liar and charmer, embed in her mind from pre-war but she is aware of that and tries to control it, using it as a way to get around some situations instead as a habit. Not a leader type but when shit needs to be done she will step up. Got stirred into believing she is psychopathic and sometimes acts as. Likes to drink and stir some fun around as alone and with no occupation on job she gets too bored. Does stupid shit and gets in troubles if left alone for too long. Highly depends on Gage’s directives and advices or other leaders if he is gone. Prefers not to talk about feelings and fears openly, would rather go with “just do it” approach.

Fighting/combat: Mostly melee weapons - very skilled with her medium sized disciples styled knife. Knows some basic hand to hand fighting/night bar style with a lot of dirty tricks. Sneaky, fast, silent and agile unless she wants some noise and action. High stamina but for short encounters, cheetah style. Uses grenades for bigger trouble, either as a distraction or to cause more mayhem. Will use a pistol only if there is no other way. Occasionally will take the broadsider if shit gets really serious and dangerous as a special card. Surprisingly strong if put under stress and pumped with adrenaline. High pain threshold but easy to break on mental level. Mixes light base gear with some heavier pieces on top to still be on a move but not to get broken like a stick in direct confrontation.

Factions: Joined raiders and took a position of the Overboss as their nature and goals fit her own. Doesn’t want to be a hero nor a part of anything bigger than a pure survival and getting what she wants. She hates the military style of BoS and their “yes sir” soldiering style around. Before becoming Overboss she worked as a mercenary for the Institute along with Kellogg (Father is not her son in my story and she didn’t kill Kellogg). She doesn’t believe in pure goodness and justice and thinks that every faction will get eventually corrupted and egoistic. Later on strikes a deal with Institute in Nuka World to provide data and plant their devices on the top in exchange for technology and supplies for her gangs. Believes it is a good deal as they stay underground while she operates on the top and the Institute doesn’t care if they kill people or do other shit. Just keeps an eye to not replace any of her people with synths.

Other informations:

- Addicted to calmex as she was dozed secretly with it before the bombs, would use it in stressful situations or when her traumas are flashing back, Gage tries to help her stop taking it. Also likes drinking especially at the end of the day.

-When under effects of calmex and in strong doubt or hesitation the Harrison, shady posture of her pre-war boss might show up and talk to her or haunt her, before disappearing shortly. This might be a result of constant high stress and long drug usage causing some kind of brain damage before. This problem gets resolved as her pre-war boss comes back to life later on.

- Because she worked often as an agent in a night luxury club in pre-war she likes everything associated with it, dancing (oh she loves to swing around), neon lights, drinks, fancy stuff etc. Likes to spend free time at Parlor or Cappy Cafe.

- Doesn’t feel guilt when killing people during raids but would not kill a helpless animal unless attacked. People have choice and if they choose to be stupid its their problem but animals are driven by pure survival so she wouldn’t butcher them unless necessary. If there were dogs in the raided settlement she would order the pack to take care of them and train.

- Can drive a car, quite well actually since she was in some risky and dangerous situations before the war. Also constantly tries to get some vehicles working along with Chip Morse and Lizzie but to no success yet. Wants to have better means of transport other than walking and fast way out in case of serious danger.

- As the time between pre-war and current time happened pretty fast and she was used to have a lot of money and expensive stuff in her apartment later on as she was finishing jobs for her boss. She would always try to “ beautify “ and make herself comfortable even in poor or rough conditions. A little spoiled bitch. Even built herself a dressing table at Fizztop straight from the pre-war night club changing room she worked before. She would collect/steal everything shiny and golden as they travel and store it there. Doesn’t like to sleep outside away from Fizztop or any other safe-house.

- Has a leech/bloodworm phobia due to the trauma after being tortured before the war by the corrupted court mobs. Sometimes has a feeling of her wounds in throat still being there even if they are long healed. Hates everything associated with worms and highly dislikes slimey food texture.

- She doesn’t see a problem in having a little hand to hand fight (literally) and getting punched by a man (hell would even join a bar fight at cappy cafe) but heavily dislikes abusive approach during arguing. If Gage or anyone by any chance would act so or grab her by the neck she would panic and smash his head with literally anything that is in her reach just to be released. Result of her boss, Harrison abusive actions towards her to break and confuse her mentally.

- Depends on Gage company and his experience as alone she is not always sure of rightness of her actions towards the plans for Nuka World and after all she was always under someone's thumb and orders as a sharp tool for the job. And as he is around 8 years older than her (i would give him 35 years tbh) and spent his life becoming a raider on the top of the mountain she takes his approach seriously. Eventually slowly falls in love with him as she notices the care he provides towards her no matter the fuckuperies that happen on the way. And the confidence that man has in his actions and looking like he does..definitely turns her on as time passes. Gage doesn’t believe at start that someone like her would be interested in him more than on just a job level but doesn’t mind later on at all to have a gal like her by his side at the lone evening/nights at Fizztop.

- She is not that bad of a person and refuses to trash talk traders (well maybe except Aaron) and convinces the operators after powering the plant to improve their conditions as it would also bring more caps and scare the “tourists” less. And she would not want their only doctor to be gone or worse, refuse to treat them.

- She considers Lizzie a friend and would visit her often to check on new equipment or further improvements with grenades. Doesn’t mind testing her new inventions along with an extra drink in her lab.

- She is bad at cooking, especially the post-war one and would most probably choose a food from a box rather than poison Gage with her attempts on making food.

- Almost always wears her black fingerless gloves, might fall asleep in them too sometimes. Gage notices it and learns later on about the burn marks.

- Has a weird, almost romantic like relationship with her pre-war boss Harrison after he makes a sudden come back, surviving the bombs and joining her in Nuka World.

#fallout 4 #fo4 #nuka world #overboss #fallout oc #my oc #lucy feit #raiders #dem raiderz #headcannons #bio

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