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plush-rabbit · 1 year

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Dating Headcanons for Himiko Toga

Request: Could you possibly write headcanons for Toga with a fem civilian s/o?

A/N: I love her design so much!! I love her fangs and bangs and her eyes!! She’s so cute!!

Himiko loves with her entire being. She never meant it to be twisted or malicious, but certain upbringings and repression has made it out to be so. Having her as a partner is a dangerous one, she’s a villain- a young one at that. She is unstable, but she never means for her own obsession to hurt you with malicious intent. She can’t control it, she loves too much- too wholeheartedly.

Perhaps she has a type looking at her past two most obvious crushes. She likes to think that she doesn’t- that she loves people and all that they are, but she likes convictions. That’s what attracted her to the young two promising heroes, how far they were willing to go for the other, but you aren’t a hero. You’re a civilian, and it's been a long time since she actually liked anyone like you. But she becomes lovestruck when she sees how kind you are.

There’s a panic around the area caused by her and the others- people push past one another and somehow she’s been caught in the middle of it, pushed to the ground where her bare knees become scraped. The crowd disperses as soon as she's in the ground, and she’s not astanger to scrapes and cuts, but the knee injury hurts just a bit too much, and any pressure on her ankle makes her think that she might have twisted it. She’s taken in a sharp breath, ready to brace herself and move forward when a hand is held out in front of her. You must know who she is, when you hold out your hand to her when she’s fallen, there’s no doubt that even with her attire, there has to be some common sense in your head telling you to run the other way. Instead of doing the most logical option, you help her up, and hold her hand in yours for just a moment too long, until you pull away and mumble an apology, running the other, leaving her in the middle of the desolate plaza, with her heart beating against her chest. Late at night, she lays awake thinking of you, fisting the hand that you held and covering it protectively with her free hand.

She wishes that it were more of a challenge to find you- you’re too predictable, too easy and unaware of your surroundings, especially after an attack where you happened to be at. Fortunately for her, you walk home alone for a few blocks and that’s when she makes herself known, grabbing at your hand, and pulling you close to her. You’re startled, but not scared, and you let her lead you into an alleyway where you certainly don’t belong. She’s infatuated. Lovestruck. Obsessed. You aren’t scared of her. You’re letting her hold your hand. She already knows you’re kindhearted. She knows your name. She knows your schedule. She introduces herself, and when you reply back with your own name, she wraps her arms around you, already giving you a nickname, one dripped in sugar and everything nice.

There’s only so many places the two of you can be together without raising suspicions, and your family has already started to wonder why you keep going to the playground at night, so that location has to be shelved until further notice. Other than that, you often go wherever she leads you to which happens to be the current location of the League hideout. They didn’t take too kindly to you at first- Twice, or Jin- being the most harsh in wanting to keep you out of any type of League affairs. You later learn that he and Himiko have a rather close relationship, so you understand the brash behavior and reservations that he may have about you. The both of you usually meet up together after school. While you do your homework, she likes to peer over your shoulder and help with whatever she can. When you have passages to read, you like to read them outloud to her. She’s always happy when she gets to hear you read to her no matter how boring the story may be because she can rest her head on your shoulder.

No matter how sweet she can be, she’s still obsessive. Her questions always start off innocent enough- how did your day go? What did you learn? How was gym class? Who were you with during lunch? You’re not getting bothered are you? Is that teacher still giving you a hard time about your grades? She needs to know how your day went, and when she doesn’t know, that has her worrying her bottom lip. She cares too strongly, loves too fiercely. When she notices that you’ve had a particularly draining day, she holds off on the questions, instead taking you into her arms and resting her cheek over the top of your head.

It comes to no surprise that she’s an affectionate person. She loves to have her hand on you in some type of way. Your hand will be in hers, and she;ll press her palm against yours, comparing the size and slowly intertwine your hand with hers. Whenever you do your homework there at the hideout, she sits next to you, mumbling about how she always hated homework, and what subject she was the worst at. Sometimes, she’ll get a forlorn look in her eyes, and when she realizes that you;ve been staring at her, she’ll press her lips against your cheek and rest her head on your lap, asking you to read her the chapter of the day.

The rest of the League- once they get used to you and agree with each other that you probably won’t rat them out- do they actually tease the young member. It did take a while for the rest of the League to become comfortable with you and while you won’t admit it to your partner, you’re positive that they each gave you their own version of a shovel talk. During the threats, a part of you thinks that it’s nice that she found a family within them, how they all care for each other without actively saying it. Most of them didn’t even actually have a full conversation with you, only showcasing their quirks in front of you and you quickly understood that that was a threat.

With her quirk, she feels the need to have to suck on blood. And being around you can be a struggle. There has to be restraint, especially since she doesn’t want to scare you away from her. There’s been a handful of times where you’ve gotten a cut in front of her, and each and every time, she watched you with unblinking eyes. The scent of iron is thick in the air no matter how little the cut was, and there’s a heavy flush that reddens her face. She hardly makes a sound, and it reminds you of a predator watching their prey, with how her pupils dilate and how silently she moves. She leaves the room for a few minutes and returns as if nothing has happened, asking you if you’re okay and giving the bandaged wound a kiss.

Whether you give her a taste of your blood or not, she understands both decisions and she doesn’t press. She won’t ask for a drop of your blood. She’s loyal to you, and she just likes to be around you- more than she would have ever realized. If you were to offer your blood to drink to Himiko, she takes it as a great show of your relationship with her. She’ll take your arm and ask how you would like to do it. She could give you a little cut, or bite down, or press her needle into the soft of your elbow- whatever it is that you choose, she’s fine with that fact. Either way, she takes your hand in hers, twisting it around and kissing at every inch of skin that she can, mumbling how she's thankful for having met you. There’s still red beads of scarlet that prick from your skin, and watching you, she swipes the tip of her tongue across the wound, pressing a kiss into it and mumbling how she has to clean you up now. There’s a lovely look in her eyes when she glances up to you, her pink dusted in pink, and only deepening when you kiss her.

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fantasygerard2000 · 3 months

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Magnifico Almighty

There's this discourse in Wish that gets some viewers riled up, in which is that Magnifico has a point and that he's the real hero of the story. I am generally against this, largely because I'm just indifferent about the "villains doing bad thing for good reasons" shtick that has gotten old after overstaying its welcome since Thanos stank up the villain writing department, and in some cases some of the people who state that are totally not racially motivated.

With the case of Magnifico having a point that not all wishes should be granted, it would've prove he has a point, if the movie actually showed us an example.

That's the thing, the movie never presents an example of a bad wish and all people got is Magnifico's word for it.

In context, Magnifico doesn't want to grant Asha's grandfather's wish because and in his words "it's too vague". It's this vagueness that people run with and easily conclude with assumptions that he is correct in some way that generally doesn't prove he had a point. He sites that Sabino wants to inspire the next generation, which he concludes would lead to a rebellion that will destroy Rosas. However, with further context that Magnifico selfish tyrant, in his view, Sabino would inspire his own subjects to rebel against him, and therefore destroy not his kingdom, his rule as its king.

This discourse also ties in with how Asha is vilified and labeled selfish for wanting to grant all the wishes. The thing here is, she doesn't. She never said she wants all the wishes to be granted, she wants them returned. Asha was in agreement with Magnifico until he refuses to grant her grandfather's seemingly harmless wish on his 100th birthday, which she kindly asked him if he could consider and apologizes for. She is even in agreement with him that dangerous wishes can be stopped. Her point is that if Magnifico doesn't want to grant most if not all of the wishes, he could just return them and encourage the people to put in the effort to achieve their dreams themselves. If Magnifico was just as benevolent as people say he is, there wouldn't be a system of him hoarding there wishes in the first place.

Another contender is the comparison to the movie Bruce Almighty, to which is just a surface level comparison. In the film, Bruce is given God's powers but must also do God's job, which includes granting prayers. Taking the lazy route, Bruce nonchalantly says yes to the wishes which leads to the town going in chaos. However, this is the part where things get muddy. A lot of people use this moment in the film to compare Wish's nonexistent bad wish cautionary warning, but they either forget, missed or straight up omitting the other reasons why this happened. The town's biggest game winning which leads to fans rioting, everyone winning the lottery and because they all won, they have to split the money which gives them less than what they wanted, also causing a riot, and the asteroids Bruce recklessly cause causing people to believe the rapture is upon them.

In Wish, the wishes are returned to the people because they have the power to achieve them. The wishes are not just magical stuff that gives people wealth and power, they're goals and aspirations. With Magnifico taking away one's wish, including the memories of said wish, they're aimless and lose their ability to achieve a dream they cannot recall, and only need to rely on Magnifico to achieve said dream.

Comparing Bruce to Asha is just silly to me when Bruce is more comparable to Magnifico; both are given strong godlike powers with Magnifico wanting the masses to praised him as one; both are lazy and use said powers for their benefit. And the kicker is that Bruce learned to care for others and uses his powers to help them instead.

The consequences of the granted prayers is not on the citizens, it's Bruce's. And the consequences of Rosas not needing a system that selects few wishes to be granted is not Asha's, it's Magnifico's.

There's this line in Bruce Almighty said by God to Bruce which is perfectly applicable to Wish and how if you were to rewrite Wish that's not just yourself projecting into Asha to ship yourself with golden Jack Frost, make one about Magnifico becoming the benevolent king he wants to be.

"People want me to do everything for them, and what they don't realize is they have the power. You want to see a miracle, son? Be the miracle."

#disney wish #wish movie #wish 2023 #wish king magnifico #king magnifico #wish rewrite #magnifico #disney magnifico #bruce almighty

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annymation · 2 months

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I reread the backstory of the villains and at the end you mentioned that Amaya is Persephone and Magnifico is Hades (from Disney). I was wondering which of the ancient Greek gods (or other characters from Greek mythology) do you associate Asha and Aster with?

So I kept looking for greek love stories with happy endings... And as ya'll can imagine that's a pointless endeavor, most are tragedies, and the few happy ones we do have don't fit with Asha and Aster.

So instead I decided to just pick greek characters that remind me of Asha and Aster, regardless of who those loved.

I'd say Asha reminds me most to Medea

Now hear me out, I know what you're thinking (If you're familiar with her myth)

"But Anny! Medea killed people!"

Yeah yeah I know, that's not what gives me Asha vibes in her, quick summary for those who don't know:

Medea was a princess, that fell in love with a "hero" named Jason

(She only fell in love with him because Hera made her fall in love with him, so she would help him survive the many trials her father was putting him through, Jason was like Hera's champion, that's why she gave him this lil intervention)

So Jason took Medea home with him, after she literally saved his life, and they had two kids together. But later, Jason decided he wanted to marry another princess, like, one still in power instead of Medea that was a run away princess.

Medea obviously got furious that her husband would marry someone else just for the perks. But she didn't just sit down and took it like many other maidens in greek mythology would, nuh-uh, she started plotting her revenge.

She elaborated a plan to kill both their kids and Jason's new girlfriend, through clever scheming and also potions- because did I mention she makes potions? Yeah turns out Medea was also a big inspiration for me when writing Amaya, she's kinda my favorite girl in greek mythology.

So WHY does she reminds me of Asha? Well simple, Asha stood up against injustice and did everything she possibly could to outwit the villains and had plenty of moments where her quick thinking saved her by a hair (Flashback to the climax of Kingdom of Wishes). Asha plans things out and speaks her mind, she and Medea are both strong, not physically, but in their wit.

I guess I could also compare her to Ariadne since she was also clever by helping Theseus escape the minotaur labyrinth, buuuuut Ariadne isn't as cool as Medea, like come on, at the end of the classical stage play she RIDES HELIOS FLYING CHARIOT LIKE A FREAKIN GODDESS JUST TO TAUNT JASON!!! SAYING SHE TOOK EVERYTHING FROM HIM!!! THEN SHE PROPHESIZES HE'LL DIE ALONE!!!! AND THAT THE GODS ARE ON HER SIDE!!! BECAUSE HES A LYING LIL OATH BREAKER!!!

Anyway, it gives me the vibes of Asha flying on her hand drawn flying carpet to defeat Magnifico and Amaya, and then saying "No one believes your lies anymore" while they're being turned into stone, she's just a badass like that.

As for Aster, maybe it's the Epic: The Musical fan in me talking, but eh, Odyseus.

Simply because I can totally see Aster going through hell and back to find Asha, the same way Odyseus did for Penelope, and also because I can see him being dumb enough to give his full name and address to a cyclops he just blinded. But as more and more shenanigans happen (And by that I mean most of his army freaking dying) he becomes more willing to be more ruthless for the sake of his men that are left and so they can go back home, similar to how Aster matured and even got a lil sadistic in the end there when he decided to turn the villains into stone.

Alternatively, I could also let the Hadestown fan in me win and say he reminds me of Orpheus, but that makes me too sad, considering what happens to Orpheus and Eurydice in the end. Let's say if you cut Orpheus turning to look back, yeah that relationship is very Aster and Asha vibes.

@superkooku you like greek mythology right? Do you have other ideas?

#wish rewrite #wish reimagined #kingdom of wishes #ask

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crowborn666-writes · 2 years

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So I’m asking for another request😂 because your writing is amazingggg. Whenever I see my requests during work, it just makes my day.

So this time I have something a little different👀 could I request a dabi/touya todoroki x female reader? Where the reader is Dabi’s girlfriend but is a kind soul. She doesn’t like what dabi does but he’s very protective and kind to her.

So maybe he gets home in the middle of the night and finds the reader crying on the couch. She was super worried about him after hearing the news of the heroes going after him and she kinda nags him with tears. He just chuckles and says cute things and maybe they cuddle lol.

You can totally add or change whatever you’d like!! Thanks in advance for writing this!!🙏🏻❤️ take your time!

Despite The Things He Does

(Snowwwwww TvT ❤️) (side note, so I hear S6 of MHA is either out or coming out, sooo cue me binging the rest of S5)

Dabi x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Romantic

Summary: Despite the things Dabi does, he still finds kindness for you.

~~~~~~

You woke up slowly, the blankets having been kicked off the bed and fan running. This was a normal occurrence, your head turning to press into the scarred shoulder next to you. You usually would stay up late whenever you had the hunch Dabi would be coming over, and you’d start the night bundled up under the blankets together, but somewhere in the night Dabi would kick them away and let you curl into him for warmth.

You’d awake and find him wrapped around you, keeping you close and warm, before proceeding to deny everything when he finally awoke.

You never minded, the act being uniquely Dabi, and once he finally let go, you’d trudge into the kitchen to make breakfast like every other morning.

He’d stay for only one plate-full, clean his plate at your sink before absconding off to do whatever villain business he had.

It worried you to no end, despite the things he does, you somehow found love for him in your heart.

As if on cue, a slight shift from you had him pulling you closer, and you allowed it like usual, tucking yourself under his chin and against his chest. You laid there for a few minutes before you lifted your chin, mumbling into Dabi’s ear.

“What d’you want for breakfast?”

“Don’t care.”

You smiled at the sound of his voice being muffled by your shoulder, moments before he released you, eyes watching you slip away and down the hall where the sound of kitchenware quickly followed.

It wasn’t long until you felt his warmth at your back again, arms looped loosely around your waist as his head pressed into the crook of your neck. You pressed your cheek into his hair, hands focused on the pan of bacon and eggs in front of you.

As usual, Dabi stayed for only one serving, washing the dishes with you before slipping away and leaving a lingering kiss to your cheek.

You were about your day by routine, working a few hours at the local book shop, coming back home to unwind.

But today, the news had been going on and on, about how heroes were believed to have come upon one of the League members. You told yourself things would be fine, but as the hours stretched on and on, you began to worry.

You curled up on the couch, bundled up in a blanket as you flipped through channels, trying to ignore the news for now.

You weren’t sure why you were worried, the villains needed to be caught. Plus, Dabi could handle himself.

…Right?

A glance at the clock showed 12:38 am. Dabi usually showed up between 10 and 11, and you were usually mostly asleep by then anyways. But here you were, wide awake, worried. Remote trembling in your hand as you found no strength in your thumb to push down on the buttons, to change away from yet another late night news station.

You turned away, thumb pressing forcefully down on the off button to the TV, plunging yourself into darkness with a mechanical click. You tossed the remote onto the coffee table, uncaring if it missed and fell onto the floor as you stood, unable to stop your pacing.

Your mind was a whirlwind of worry, only broken by the sudden sound of your window clicking and creaking open.

“(Y/n)?”

He had apparently seen your before you had seen him, but Dabi’s voice was enough to make you break into tears. He was quick to flick on a lamp as he made his way to you, hands holding you by the arms. “What’s wrong?”

You took a moment to draw in a breath, eyes squeezing shut as you tried to relax. “The-The news… said… th-that heroes were going after the League… a-and I just got really worried and—!”

“You think some lousy fresh-outta-school heroes are gonna be able to stop me?” Dabi laughed a bit, offering a gentle smile that helped you relax.

“Well,” you sniffled, leaning into the warm palm that reached out to brush away your tears, “I didn’t know they were new heroes, you just come home real late and sometimes with injuries so I just get really worried and…”

As you trailed off, finding no more words come to you, Dabi leaned in to hold you. “You don’t gotta be worried about me, I’m alright and uninjured.”

“You could at least tell me when you're on your way. That way I’m not left wondering if…”

You trailed off, not wanting to finish your thoughts. Dabi leaned down to kiss you, hands warm against your skin where he held your face.

“I’ll start texting you when I’m dropping by, would that help ease your worries?”

“Yes it would.” You then reached out to tug on his arm, “Now come to bed, I would like to not mess up my sleep schedule.”

“Whatever you say, dear.”

#mha #bnha #fluff #bnha fic #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fic #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #dabi x female reader #dabi x reader #dabi #mha dabi #bnha dabi #mha touya #bnha touya #touya todoroki fic

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philliamwrites · 1 year

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SWYAATL 17: Nature Offers Her Violence

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x fem! Reader

Warnings: canon-typical violence & gore, angst, anxiety, mentions of character death

Summary: “It’s still scary,” you say. Jean turns to you. “I killed one, but I’m still scared.” His eyes soften. “Good. Fear keeps you humble. But that doesn’t mean you’re not brave.” “That doesn’t make sense.” “Bravery isn’t the absence of fear. It’s being scared and still doing what you have to do despite it.” He looks out over the roofs—your Jeanie, who looks so much older than you remember after just a few hours— “Marco told me that.”

Notes: [01] || [16] | [18]

Words: 6.5k

A/N: Another 2 weeks gone just like that. I can't wait for vacaction to roll around and finally really commit to writing more. Dear anons who sent me an ask, I didn't forget about you!! I just need a little more time to finsih the little something for you guys hehe. Thank you as always for such overwhelming, amazing support. I don't know where this would be without you guys ♥

17: Nature Offers Her Violence

Emil’s voice is like a whisper, so close and clear in your ear as though he is standing right next to you: “There is no easier way to make an animal dangerous than by feeding it.”

Now, you have been fed the most dangerous of all things: Power.

Scratching the skin between your eyebrows with your torn, bloody nail, you try to fight off the dull throbbing in your skull by pressing your thumb into your forehead. Something is different; something has changed but when you try to grasp it, it runs like sand through your fingers. Once you find a moment of respite, you need to think through it thoroughly; to carefully clean and scratch off the layers of dust and grime and reveal the painting lying beneath it. You have an awful feeling that it will look a lot like a pink-petalled tree overlooking a steep cliff. “A cherry-blossom tree,” Emil had explained.

“But cherry blossoms are white,” you had said—you are saying right now as well, many years later as memories overlap with reality. “Not pink.”

“They might not be in here,” you repeat his answer. “But out there.”

You turn to the Wall, looming ominously in all directions. Slowly, your memories are coming back—memories you have forgotten even though you don’t know why. Had Emil known because of his great-grandfather? Or because you had shared your mother’s books with him? You wonder if that painting is still out there, under the ruins and debris of Emil’s house. It couldn’t have possibly survived all the years exposed to the weather and nature’s violence, but if … if …

The metal ring lies hot against your skin. You pull it up from under your shirt, inspecting the ruby orb, the way the light glides off it as though inside liquid is moving. Emil’s ring is more than just a childhood’s promise. It was very important to him, he had said so himself. Another riddle to solve later. This moment feels as though the axis of the earth is tilting ever so slightly, but the outcome will be fatal, and you are at the very centre of it.

You cram the ring back under your shirt, glad for the familiar presence of its weight against your skin. The Titan has begun to fall into itself, shrinking like a raisin. It won’t take long until only bones are left. When you make your way down to the ground, it is only to confirm that the rest of your team is dead. There is no use checking Franz—with only his upper body left, he has bled out, his organs strewn across the street. You don’t want to be the one to tell Hannah.

Turning away abruptly, you cross the street to Karl’s body. His head is split open—you think back to the day Jonathan died in the forest. Two years ago, everything had seemed so much simpler. When the villain of your story had been another person, and that person ended up being punished. Playing hero was easier when your own life wasn’t at stake.

You shake those memories off, turning away as bile rises in your throat and you take deep, forceful breaths to stave off the nausea. There is no time to do anything—the squad responsible for cleaning the bodies won’t have a chance to retrieve Karl and Franz anyway with the hole in the Wall and Titans roaming around. Which leaves the last person in your group—Daz. Even before you start searching for him, you already have a feeling about what has happened: He had been already gone before the fight had started, leaving the rest of you to fight the Titan by yourselves. He had abandoned you.

Only now you realise the reason your hands are shaking isn’t from the adrenaline or the lingering fear—you’re furious. You’re so angry at Daz and by proxy at your own previous hesitation. Maybe things would have turned differently if you had reacted faster. Maybe everyone from your squad wouldn’t be dead now. Your knees wobble from that realisation, and you brace yourself against the corner of a house, forcing heaps of air into your body and exhaling them in slow, shaking breaths.

The mission. Focus on the mission. Everything else can wait. If you make it through this.

Using your ODM gear, you move back to the district’s centre. Being on your own is a death sentence should you come across more Titans. As soon as you near the Main Square, you hear it. The screams, the heavy thuds when you skid across a roof and come to a halt near its edge.

Doors are open all up and down the rows of houses—people are darting out of them, then stopping dead when they see the street crowded with Titans.

It is impossible, unimaginable. That only five years after Shiganshina fell, it is happening again. And now there are dozens. Dozens upon dozens. Maybe hundreds, flooding the streets like a poisonous current. You feel as if you are trapped behind a glass wall, able to see everything but unable to move—watching, frozen, as a 3-metre Titan seizes a fleeing boy and lifts him bodily off the ground, sinking its serrated teeth into his shoulder.

The boy screams, but his screams are lost in the clamour that is tearing the day apart. The sound rises and rises in volume: the howling of Titans, people calling one other’s names, the sound of running feet and shattering glass.

Your name. Someone calls your name.

Hands curl around your shoulders and shake you. You raise your head slowly; Marco’s white face floats against the thunderous, grey clouds billowing behind him. You can’t remember Marco walking toward you, can’t remember seeing him on the roof at all; it is as if he’s materialised in front of you all at once, like a ghost.

“Marco.” Your voice comes out slow and uneven. “Marco, stop. I’m all right.”

You pull away from him.

“You don’t look all right. I’m sure nobody is all right at a time like this.” Marco glances at the street below and curses under his breath. “We have to get the Titans away from the evacuation roads. Where’s the rest of your squad?”

You blink. There are no Titans in view for now; it should scare you how fast they move into wherever they sense people. Someone is sitting on the front steps of the house opposite you and crying in a loud and grating series of shrieks. The boy’s half-torn body is still in the streets, and the smell of blood and death is everywhere.

“Dead.” Your voice is hollow, just like the pit in your stomach. “Except me and Daz. Frank and Karl—”

The person on the stairs is still sobbing. Shouldn’t the rear guard be here, evacuating people? Out of the corner of your eyes you see uniformed soldiers approach the crying person—Reiner and Bertholdt.

Marco swears. You blink against the burning curtain of tears and square your shoulders, ball up the knots of your emotions and push them so far down where they don’t hurt anymore.

Stepping out of Marco’s looming shadow, Annie regards you with a tightly locked expression—a door firmly sealed shut. “The Titans are moving towards the Inner Gate. Something must be holding up the evacuation,” she says.

“Let’s hope they have more luck holding them back than us.” Reiner’s joined you. His eyes pass over you, pausing on the dried blood on your uniform, the ripped fabric of your pants. Seconds later, Bertholdt is behind him. They must have told the person to hide, because now the street is deserted.

“This is way beyond our capabilities,” Bertholdt mumbles. He looks a little green and keeps throwing glances over his shoulder. “We should find the others. We’ll be stronger in numbers.”

“That might lure out more Titans if they sense a bigger group.” Reiner kneads the tense muscles in the back of his shoulders. “But I’m all for regrouping, so let’s be smart about this. We’ll look for the rest of the 104th. Stick together, got—”

Before he can finish, the watch tower’s bells ring a second time this day. For the first time, that sound doesn’t fill you with dread and fear. It means the evacuation is done, all citizens who managed to reach the Inner Gate are on the other side and safe.

“Finally. I thought things would never start looking up for us.” A weary smile passes Reiner, there and gone too quick. “Nice timing, too. I’m running out of gas.”

“They should distribute supplies down Regent Street. Let’s hurry. It smells like rain.”

Marco’s right. As you begin to navigate through narrow alleys, past crumbling buildings and the corpses of soldiers and civilians, the sky opens up and rain falls in unrelenting torrents. You wonder if that might be enough to wash away the blood on the streets, to clean the pavement from today’s horror.

Too scared to look down and identify one of your friends, you keep your eyes set on Marco’s broad back until he turns a sharp left, following Reiner’s lead up on a crimson-tiled roof where you spot familiar faces keeping watch. Half of the group is on the outlook, the rest huddling around a slumped figure.

Nothing seems odd until Marco mumbles, “Why isn’t anyone going over the Wall?”

You notice it then, too. How quiet everything is apart from the pattering rain. No sounds of ODM gear zipping through the sky.

Like a compass, your eyes rivet on Jean first, slumped into himself on the roof and for a second your heart beats in your throat in fear he might be injured. But when he snaps a response to whatever Connie just asked a second ago, he seems unhurt. “There’s nothing we can do! How the fuck are we supposed to scale the wall without gas?!”

“There’s gotta… there’s gotta be something.” You’ve never seen Connie in so much terror. “We can’t just … that means we’re gonna…”

“What’s wrong?” Reiner demands. It seems like nobody has even noticed your group’s arrival. “Where’s the supply group?”

You meet Jean’s eyes. A multitude of emotions changes his expression at once—relief, anger, and then it settles on utter despair. He buries his face in his hands, and mumbles, “Those fucking cowards … we’re gonna die because of them.”

“Were they wiped out? What happened?” Marco asks, hesitating. He’s drawn closer to Jean, and for a moment he reaches his hand forward to pull Jean up, only to withdraw it immediately as though realising he’s facing a cornered, scared animal that will immediately snap its teeth at him.

“I guess they’ve barricaded themselves inside HQ. Apparently, they lost the will to fight,” Jean explains, his voice hollow. “I can understand that feeling.”

You can’t keep quiet anymore. “But abandoning their duty to supply us? Just leaving us out here to … die.” You feel sick, thinking of Daz. He’s still nowhere in sight among the other cadets, and by now, you wouldn’t beat an eyelash if you found him torn from limb to limb in the gutter. “We’re all scared. Yet we keep fighting.”

Jean considers you for a long moment with a bland expression, his eyes blank. Slowly, he shrugs. “Not that it matters. Titans have swarmed the place. We can’t even get gas for ourselves.”

“So what?” Connie snaps, swinging his arms violently and you have a feeling he’s seconds away from trying to beat sense into Jean. Marco, who’s honed his skills on sensing whenever Jean’s about to get his ass kicked for his brutal honesty within those three years of Cadet Training, steps between them. “Hanging around here’s no different! The Titans will gather here too. We should use everything we got and finish them off right here.”

“Do you really think we have the manpower to pull that off?” Jean turns his head, regarding the rest of the gathered rookies. “Look at us. Most of the veteran members of the vanguard have been wiped out. We’re just cadets. Who can possibly take charge of a suicide mission like that?”

You follow his gaze, take in the sunken forms of the other recruits. Their defeat, their hopelessness. A girl sits curled into herself, trying to make herself as small as possible. Your heart shrinks to the size of a small, hard stone.

“It’s not like we can stand a chance against the Titans anyway,” you hear Jean continue. “If Titans got into HQ, that means the supply room’s probably got some that are three or four metres tall. There’s no way we could get anything done in there.”

There’s silence. Watching Connie’s shoulder drop, you can sense the fight leaving him. “So … it’s hopeless, huh?” he mumbles.

Jean heaves a heavy sigh, which is answer enough. When he looks up again, he stares right at Marco. A moment passes between them, one you feel as though nobody but them should be part of. “You know … if I’d known this would happen, I would’ve said something sooner.”

It takes a moment before Marco can find his voice. “Ah, Jean,” he says, mournfully, his voice soft—in just the same way he had said all those months ago in the boys’ barracks when you had walked in on them jostling like little kids. “Has anyone ever told you how bad your timing is?”

You feel like you should say something; to capture this moment with words even though words were not necessary. Something like “I knew it” or “Finally” or “I love you two so much, please don’t leave me behind.”

You turn away and join Reiner’s group on the ledge looking out towards HQ to give them the illusion of privacy. Curling your arms around yourself, you feel terribly cold. Nobody calls after you.

“What now, Reiner?” you ask. You need to focus on what’s next, on how to solve this problem. Occupying your mind with solving the problem to staff off the wicked whispers of doubt and neglect. There’s time for that later, if you have the luxury to deal with it. “You think we can fight the Titans?”

“We let them gather here and it can go either way,” he says. He has his arms crossed over his broad chest, standing tall as though no gust can blow him off his feet. Just the sight of him calms you a little—strong and dependable Reiner who always has got your back. The tight knot in your shoulders eases a little standing next to him. “But if we lose our will to fight, it doesn’t really matter, does it? We’ll die.”

“Is there even a way … to get out of this city,” Bertholdt wonders, gazing out at the wall. For being the tallest of you three, he manages to look the smallest right now.

“If we die,” you think out loud, “then what’s the point? What’s been the point of any of this? What are we dying for?”

Freedom, a voice responds in the back of your head—is it Emil’s? Or Eren’s?

Eren. You turn around. Didn’t you see a blonde shock of hair somewhere? If you remember right, Armin’s been in Eren’s squad. If Eren is here, he’ll have the right words, he’ll fire everyone up to fight and not give up.

“Where’s—” you begin.

“Where’s Eren?” another voice asks.

Mikasa’s rapid footsteps on the roof sound like gunshots as she steers towards your group. Not a scratch on her, she looks just as put together as this morning when you had all left the barracks laughing and without any worry. But you notice spare blades missing in her holster, meaning she had fought. Something about seeing her warms a dark, cold place in your chest. With Mikasa by your side, you guys are invincible.

“I haven’t seen him,” Reiner says. He jabs a thumb over his shoulder. “But Armin’s over there.”

Mikasa whirls around without a second look back. She crosses the roof with few strides, you follow hard on her heels, and when she calls Armin’s name, you don’t miss him flinching so hard as though he’s been struck by a physical blow.

His eyes are locked onto the roof under him, and he doesn’t look up when you reach him. He appears to be a different person altogether. His hunched shoulders are no novelty, but the way he’s slouching now is an unread page in a usually familiar book. This page appears ripped, crumpled. Barely hanging on to the rest as though it might fly away any second but what’s written on it compromises a good half of everything that makes Armin the person he is.

You grow cold. Very cold. Every second that passes and he doesn’t answer Mikasa, your heart keeps on beating rabbit-fast and you hold your breath to keep from making a sound. Until it stops, wedged into your throat with the speed of a hydraulic press. Just jammed in there, making you choke.

“Where are Thomas and … and Mina, Armin?” you ask next, though much quieter than Mikasa.

You don’t want to know the answer.

You already know the answer.

You want to tell Armin to keep his mouth shut; if he doesn’t say it, it won’t become reality.

You open your mouth.

Armin’s head snaps up, tears run down his face, leaving clear streaks across his dirty cheeks.

Mikasa freezes.

“We … the cadets of Squad 34—” Armin’s voice quivers. He swallows, wipes snot away with his sleeve. He bends his head; his hair falls forward, hiding his face. “Thomas Wagner, Nack Tierce, Milieus Zeremksi, Mina Carolina. Eren Jaeger. These five members fulfilled their … their duties and died valiantly on the field of battle. I—I alone … survived. Only I …”

The word “alone” comes out broken, as if he can taste the bitterness of loss on his tongue and struggles to speak around it. As though he is ashamed about this outcome; that it is him delivering the news when he should have been dead as well.

The whole world stops in its motion. You’re aware the whole roof is staring at Armin, processing the words, but your head is empty. Your chest constricts painfully.

Mina. You think of her small, pale face under her crown of dark hair, of her determination in a fight and her heartening enthusiasm whenever she throws herself into a new task or challenge. You’ve promised to visit her in Karanes. She’s promised she’d take you out with her family on the lake to fish.

Eren. Oh, Eren. His dreams. His conviction. Isn’t it poetic that he died while doing what he always wanted? Killing Titans? But nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and people turn it into poetry. All that blood—it was never once beautiful. It was just red. Gods notice red. It is their favourite colour, and so they choose to draw the world in red. Over and over again, this time with the name that was supposed to be your new home—

You begin to shake violently. “Oh God,” is all you manage, and a moment later, you scramble to the edge of the rooftop, bend over and empty your stomach in heaving spasms.

Marco lurches after you, holding your trembling shoulders before you topple off the building. His face has crumpled, shattered like a damn under too much pressure, but he holds you as you tremble, as you shatter, and mumbles, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” his voice thick with grief; with all his heart in those words.

Behind him, you see Jean. Standing there, motionless. Eyes red-rimmed. He’s staring at Mikasa, Mikasa. You can’t imagine what she’s feeling right now—how grief must tear her apart from the inside, eating her alive. No words can mend what is broken; can bring back and fill what is lost. And perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone.

“Armin,” Mikasa says. She has such a soothing voice. So calm, so collected, like an untouched, clear water’s surface. “Now isn’t the time to be emotional.”

Armin’s face goes blank with surprise, startling him momentarily out of his grief like a record skipping a beat.

Mikasa pulls him to his feet, then turns and marches towards where you and Marco still stand near the edge of the roof, clinging to each other. “Marco,” she continues. Still in his arms, you can feel him tense up. “If we eliminate the Titans swarming around HQ, we can replenish our gas supplies and get over the wall. Correct?”

“Well, yes,” he says after a moment’s hesitation. Now that you can finally get a good look at her, you feel cold all over at the blank expression on Mikasa’s face. There is no warmth in her eyes. No light. They are dead, and so must be a part of her now that Eren is gone. “But even with you, we can’t handle them all—”

“I can handle them,” she fires back, snaps. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen Mikasa snap. “I am strong. Stronger than all of you. Very strong. As such, I can annihilate the Titans here. Even if I have to do it alone. As for all of you, you’re not only unskilled, you’re also cowards . You’re a real disappointment. You can stay here and twiddle your thumbs. Twiddle your thumbs and cry and watch.”

Her outburst commands silence. Another recruit flounders. He shoots back, “You can’t do that. Even—even you can’t take them on all by yourself!”

“If I can’t, then I’ll die,” Mikasa answers, almost matter-of-factly. “It’s that simple. But—” She turns, faces the roof’s end. “If I win, I’ll live. And the only way to win is to fight.” And then, she jumps. She flies. She disappears between buildings, moving gracefully towards the beasts that haunt your every step. What do you call the animal that, finding the hunter, offers itself to be eaten? A martyr? A weakling? No, a beast gaining the rare agency to put an ending to its own fears. She leaves you cowards, and the silence that settles is like a big, gnawing chasm.

Jean is the first to break free from his paralysis. He rubs his hand over his face, with enough force to leave red imprint marks with his fingers. “You can’t seriously just pull something like that right now,” he mumbles. “Sounding like that fucking suicidal maniac … this is all your fault, Eren.”

He whirls around and draws his blades. The sudden movement startles everyone out of their shock. Raising one blade high above his head, he screams, “Hey! Since when were we taught to let our comrades fight alone?!”

Multiple heads turn his way. You feel Marco give you a last, tight squeeze before he lets go.

Jean continues screaming over to the next roof, pointing the tip of his blade at them. “Or do you guys want to end up as actual cowards?!”

From the other end of the roof, someone else—Sasha—screams, “Yeah! You think Instructor Shadis is gonna let this slide? Come on, you cowards! You weaklings! Morons!”

Something stirs among the cadets. You can’t believe it works, but they move and draw their blades and even though they still look scared shitless, they also look stubborn and spiteful. Ready to fight.

“I have to go back to my squad,” Marco says beside you. He gives your shoulder a solid pat and smiles tentatively. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

You nod and watch him move across the roof towards Reiner and the rest. When he passes Jean, they share some quiet words and briefly squeeze each other’s arms before Marco leaves.

“This is gonna be tough,” Jean says when he steps up next to you. You shudder and collect yourself, rub away the wetness from your cheeks. When Jean doesn’t defer to your loss, you know it’s only to protect you. You’ll have time to break down later. If “later” exists for you. “But you managed to kill one of them, right?” He points to your holster where a pair of blades is missing.

“Yeah —” Your voice breaks. You clear your throat. “Yeah, I got one.”

“Good.” He juts his chin forward. “I don’t trust half of these guys not to stab themselves with their blades when zipping up their boots.”

“It’s still scary,” you say. Jean turns to you. “I killed one, but I’m still scared.”

His eyes soften. “Good. Fear keeps you humble. But that doesn’t mean you’re not brave.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Bravery isn’t the absence of fear. It’s being scared and still doing what you have to do despite it.” He looks out over the roofs—your Jeanie, who looks so much older than you remember after just a few hours— “Marco told me that.”

Something infinitely warm spreads in your chest. You take Jean’s hand and effortlessly win the thumb war, squeezing his thumb because you don’t give him a minute to catch up to what’s going on. “Let’s go kick some Titan ass then.”

It’s true what they say. That the best way for team building is under attack, screaming, yelling and in pain.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Armin watching you with eyes so full of grief and yearning, it’s not difficult to know what’s going inside him, and you hurt all over for him and his loss.

Losing Emil all those years back, the wounds always feel fresh like a cut you keep on reopening. But losing Jean today would mean losing a limb; another part of your body. It would mean the part of your soul residing in his body shattering and you’ve already lived part of your life cleaved in half. If the rest were gone too, nothing but a hollow shell would remain.

You’ve already lost Mina and Eren today. You won’t lose anyone else.

So in that single moment, when you look at Armin, and he looks to Jean, and Jean looks to you, you realise that all three of you would lay down your life for each other. They don’t teach you that at Cadet Corps: that you will find people so important to you because of the years you’ve fought and bled together that you will kill and die for each other. Live for each other. Such is the honour and duty of a soldier.

“I’ll go after Mikasa,” Armin says. He’s dried the last tears, and now only the red, swollen skin around his eyes betrays that he has cried. “You two take care. We’ll meet up at HQ.”

“It’s Mikasa we’re talking about, she won’t need it … but still, look after her.” Jean gives Armin a hard clap on his back. “We’ll see you on the other side.”

Armin nods, then disappears down the roof.

Jean and you follow the others. It doesn’t take long until you catch up to them. They’re standing in line at the edge of a roof, looking down at Titans roaming the streets.

“Why is nobody moving?” Jean asks. “HQ’s right there.”

“How do you expect us to pass those fucking monsters?” A Cadet with deep wrinkles on his forehead and a sharp chin whirls on Jean as though he alone is at fault for the current Titan invasion. Out of instinct, you step into his path, shielding Jean, and the cadet bumps into you and startles back.

“You’ve got a functioning ODM gear, right? Then use it,” you snap back.

The cadet scowls down at you, mutters “bitch” and turns away to another group of rookies who look unsure about this whole plan. But you can’t allow yourself to hesitate now that there is at least something you can do. This plan is better than not doing anything, and the last thing you owe to the dead is at least trying to move forward.

“Not all of us will make it,” Jean says as he surveys the streets. His voice is low, as if not to let anyone else hear and spread panic. “Not today. Not tomorrow. If there even is a tomorrow.”

“Yeah, if.” You stare down at the blades in your hands and angle them left and right until they catch the sliver of sunlight peeking through grey clouds. It’s stopped raining. Maybe that’s a sign. “It’s still worth trying.”

Jean exhales audibly. He surveys the hesitating soldiers lining up on the roofs, waiting for something, and then at the Titans that have finally sensed the living nearby and look around as though scenting their fear. A myriad of emotions flash across Jean’s face. Doubt. Resolve. Back to hesitation, then fear. You can see it in his eyes, he’s concocting something, but before you can ask, he screws his eyes shut, opens his mouth and roars: “EVERYONE MOVE OUT WHILE WE STILL CAN!”

The first line of cadets jumps. Jean’s face—pale and wide-eyed—turns to you for a second, imploring you to do what you don’t know, and then he follows them and doesn’t look back. For a moment, fear that you’ve already lost him grips you tight enough to suffocate. But he is an exceptional flyer—almost as good as Mikasa. He’s excelled at every flying test.

Only until today, the dummies haven’t tried to kill you.

Rolling your head until a bone in your neck cracks and relieving some tension, you’re about to walk off the roof when you hear something like a roar in the distance. When you turn around, nothing seems out of the ordinary. There’s nothing apart from the stomping of approaching Titans. A large bird—a hawk, maybe—soars in long lazy circles over the houses, an elegant black boomerang against the silvery sky.

Do it like that, you think. The sky is the only place where you have a chance against them.

When you fall, the wire bounces you back up right before hitting the ground, sending you higher than the rooftops and opening up the sight of all hell breaking loose.

The cadets look like small flies buzzing around in search for the exit—easy pickings for the Titans to fish out of the sky. For monsters this big, some of them move awfully nimble. Only a hair’s breadth away from you, a gigantic hand arches through the sky—closing around another cadet who was following right behind you. His screams suffocate inside the giant’s palm as one squeeze is enough to crush his lungs and bones. Your stomach churns when you hear the wet crunch of snapping bones—but that’s also when you realise the danger of this altitude.

You don’t think. Smashing your fingers into the levers, you let the wires wheel out and fall. There is so much screaming around you—somewhere in there you can hear your name—but when you evade an outstretched hand and drop to the Titan’s knee-height, you find new anchor points and real the wires back in. The metal of your gas canisters scratching across the ground makes an awful noise—heat sparks behind you as the friction grates the metal surface off. You release all the leftover gas and pray momentum carries you back up into the sky and through one of the windows of the building.

With death breathing down your neck, you throw caution out and manoeuvre recklessly between the Titan’s feet, shifting left—no, right, back to left, faster and faster until you see HQ towering above you. The wires reach their end point. You take the swing at full speed, soar higher in a wide arc and curl into a ball, bracing for impact.

Glass shatters when you smash through the window, taking off your momentum. When your feet hit the ground, you stumble and try to brake the rest of the speed—and slam right into a bookshelf. Books topple off from the impact, their spiky edges punching more bruises into your skin, but you barely feel the pain. More windows break behind you, sharp shards fly like rain in a storm. You whirl around, scanning faces to see who has managed to outrun the Titans.

There’s Sasha, Reiner, Bertholdt. A few nameless faces—all with eyes spread wide from horror at the cost that they made it. They survived. When they all stand and catch their breaths, the sudden silence is deafening.

Heavy steps come up from behind you, and before you can turn, you’re nearly knocked flat as Jean wraps the entirety of his body around you.

“Dear Lord. [Name]. [Name] [Last Name].” He holds you even tighter. “Don’t you do something stupid like that ever again.”

He’s talking about that reckless evasive manoeuvre—to close to the ground, to the Titan’s feet. You can hardly imagine what it must have looked like from all the way up where he’s been. You can hardly imagine how close you’d been to be trampled to death in the first place.

So you don’t say anything, just press your face into his chest and let yourself at last be held. You put your arms around him. Everything about him is so familiar, from the lingering apple scent—the same as his mother, to the sharp angle of the collarbone that rests just under your chin. He says your name again, repeats it over and over until your hands reach up and cup his face.

“It’s fine, I’m fine. We’re fine,” you speak over Jean’s frantic prayer of your name. “Everything’s OK, Jean.” You press your foreheads together until his laboured breath slows down slightly. Behind you, you feel another set of arms wrap around the pair of you—Marco, manifesting the long-ago threatened Jean-Marco-you sandwich. You don’t mind it.

It feels safe, and good to be held so tightly, so secure after everything you’ve been through—when you close your eyes, you can almost pretend like you’re all children playing a game, reckless and young, tumbling into each other with the wild abandon of those who have never known themselves apart and have no reason to doubt that the others will always be there, holding on to them and holding them up when they can’t stand longer.

When you’ve rebuilt your reassurance that you’re fine, you let go and survey the room. Only then you realise that a lot less have managed to reach HQ than expected.

Jean suddenly sags against you, and it takes both Marco and you to hold him up. His voice is barely a whisper. “I told them to move. I gave the order. How many people died because of me?”

“A lot more would have if you had not taken the lead,” Marco replies immediately with a ferocity you’ve never heard from him. You can see his knuckles turn white where he’s holding Jean up by his elbow. “We would still be out there if it wasn’t for you, Jean.”

Jean doesn’t look as if he’s listening. His eyes flicker across the room, and then they pause, and the remaining colour drains from his skin; it’s like watching a fire flicker and go out. You follow his sight. In the far corner, below a heavy office desk, a handful of cadets are cowering and staring up at you through big, frightened eyes. The girl has blood splattered over half her face, the source a motionless body in front of them with half his head missing.

Everything clicks into picture. Why nobody had supplied you with gas. Why HQ was so awfully silent. Why nobody had come to help.

You feel Jean’s whole body twitch. Before you can catch him, he springs forward and drags one cadet out from his hiding spot by the collar. Jean’s punch lands right across his jaw, sending him back to the floor. “You abandoned us!” Jean screams, lunging forward again—or tries to, but Marco is holding him back, his arms fastened around Jean’s torso. “People are dead because of you!”

There’s more shuffling when the girl scrambles out from under the table. “The Titans overran the supply room!” she shrieks back. Tears cut a dirt path across her cheeks. She has freckles, you notice distantly. Freckles, like Mina. Suddenly the anger at being abandoned evaporates and only cold remains in its place. “There was nothing we could do, nothing!”

“It’s your job to deal with it anyway!” You’ve never seen Jean this furious. It’s justified, but pointless, you realise. It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t bring back the dead.

“Jean—” you begin.

The wall on the left side explodes, sending boulders and debris flying. Light pours through the hole into the dark room for a moment, before it is blocked out by a huge head. The Titan grins so hard it nearly splits its face in two.

Nobody moves for a second.

Then they move all at once.

Cadets lunge for the small door at the opposite side from the hole in the wall, trampling and stumbling over knocked over books and papers. Glass crunches under their feet, the sound like bones breaking. Someone slams their elbow into your side to get you out of the way, knocking all air out of your lungs. Marco seizes your arm and pulls you out of their way before you get slammed to the ground. He’s shouting something but the overwhelming screams of those fleeing drowns whatever he’s saying. But then he turns his head, his dark eyes wide. A muscle clenches in his jaw.

Jean. He’s just standing there, frozen to the spot. Staring at the Titans. It’s like all life is draining out of him—there is no willpower to run or fight as though happiness and laughter has never existed. He’s giving up.

You move against the tide—towards him, towards the leering Titans and their hideous faces, and clasp Jean’s hand.

When the walls come tumbling down, you hold hands, just like you did all those years ago with Emil.

This time, you won’t let go, no matter what.

The Titan jerks.

Jean is holding your hand so hard you fear your bones might break.

Something moves.

For one second, the Titan’s shadow swallows you whole, and then—a fist the size of a small carriage slams into the Titan’s face, sending it flying. Light pours through the hole. In their place another Titan stands, and it roars so loudly you cover your ears. His scream fills every narrow street and bounces off the buildings like a crack opening the earth’s crust, the boom and tremor of an earthquake.

Your mind doesn’t fully comprehend what is going on. The simplest answer is the obvious: A Titan is fighting another Titan. But that is impossible. It cannot be.

It roars again, blood-churning and bone-splitting—it is magnificent, almost, for it feels as though someone took the fury of the human race and incarnated it into this desperate howl.

Anger that is cathartic.

Liberating, almost, to know that to all things housed in her silence, nature offers her violence.

A/N: "To all things housed in her silence, nature offers a violence" is a line from Hozier's "Blood Upon the Snow". I highly recommend you guys check it out!! The song fits the hidden plot of this story SO AMAZINGLY I just had to sneak it in as a homage to the Faerie King himself. I also went back and edited a few things in chapter 13 to weave the theme into the story. Idk, it's such a small, unimportant thing haha. but i really really like it and it will make more sense on the long run, I promise.

Taglist: @arisu003, @brooki, @prttyangelz, @honeylmnade, @berriesandcrem, @im-just-star-dust

Not sure if I got everyone from my taglist, so feel free to confirm/remind me/join!

#phill.swyaatl #aot x reader #aot x you #aot x y/n #eren x reader #eren x you #eren x y/n #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #aot reader insert

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adamwatchesmovies · 11 months

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Bless the Child (2000)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

Although Bless the Child initially appears to be yet another one of those “bad seed” Omen knock-offs, it’s trying something different. The results are often unintentionally silly, the film is never even remotely frightening and large chunks of it are badly written but at least it gets some points for originality.

Maggie O’Connor (Kim Basinger) adopts her newborn niece, Cody (Holliston Coleman) after she is abandoned by her mother (Angela Battis). At six, Cody displays severe autism and also the miraculous ability to heal others with a touch. Meanwhile, a cult has begun kidnapping and killing children in ritual murders. When former priest-turned-FBI agent John Travis (Jimmy Smits) realizes all the victims share a birthday with Cody, he believes the girl is in danger.

I tried to think of a way this story could work. Maybe if we stripped away all of the supernatural stuff and Maggie was an ultra-religious woman whose beliefs verged on the obsessive, then this story might work. Although he isn’t introduced immediately, the film’s villain is a former celebrity turned religious guru and addiction therapist, Eric (Rufus Sewell). He shows up out of nowhere one day with Cody’s mother as his new wife, demanding custody of the kid. If this was a smart movie, his malice would be subtle or up for interpretation. The conflict might come from Maggie desperately trying to convince everyone that her “daughter” is in danger. I know, I know. At this point, we’re watching a completely different movie. I tried. The fact is, this plot just doesn’t work. At all.

Let’s begin with the villain, Eric. He’s a hardcore Satanist whose followers (basically thinly-veiled stand-ins for Scientologists) have been going around, looking for a child born on a specific date in one of the biggest cities in the world. They've butchered five kids and still, nothing. Their mission? Convince Cody that God is no good and that she should join their club instead. If they do it before “the Black Easter”… something bad will happen. The problem with this scenario is that we have a grown man hamming it up like there’s no tomorrow trying to play head games with a six-year-old who can barely string together proper sentences… and failing. I won’t say what the film’s ending is like (this is, in theory, a horror movie so it could go either way) but seeing him fumble even one attempt to turn Cody makes him seem completely ineffective. You can’t take any of this story seriously.

Bless the Child is packed full of spooky shots of gargoyles leering at our heroine and moments that should petrify you in terror but instead make you wonder what dimension this story is set in. This is the kind of movie where someone will get decapitated and their severed head will get placed back on the body just so their friend can touch gasp in horror as the noggin tumbles to the ground at the exact right time. The cult is already looking pretty sad considering when you realize they put off finding the child and are now running out of time - they have less than a week before the big day - but their methods of silencing the heroes aren’t just ineffective, they’re so poorly thought-out no one would attempt them.

As soon as we meet FBI agent Travis, it should become obvious to everyone watching that this is a stinker. If you hold onto hope, just wait until the demonic visions and instances of divine intervention. Director Chuck Russell has never heard the word “subtle”. Or maybe it just doesn’t exist in German. I mean, I know Eric is the leader of a cult that kidnaps children so they can chop them into pieces and use their blood to write strange symbols on walls but he’s so obviously evil it’s hard to believe a body of evidence has to be built against him. With his wild-looking eyes and slimy demeanor, it would take exactly zero seconds for any jury to return with a guilty verdict - regardless of what crime he’d be accused of.

I obtained Bless the Child as part of a two-pack with Jade, a lame 1995 sex thriller that may be the better of the two, which is saying something. A horror film doesn’t have to generate screams to be good but it doesn't hurt. Bless the Child never even approaches the realm of terror; it’s only good for some unintentional laughs and even then, not many. (On DVD, April 14, 2020)

#Bless the Child #movies #films #movie reviews #film reviews #Chuck Russell #Tom Rickman #Clifford Green #Ellen Green #Kim Basinger #Jimmy Smits #Rufus Sewell #Ian Holm #Angela Bettis #Christina Ricci #2000 movies #2000 films

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thepenultimateword · 2 years

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Could you please write something where a civilian is the hero’s (who is a kid/teen hero) schools librarian or teacher. Who is looking out for them and helping with planning and tactic of fighting the villain. But along the way civilian and villain start falling for one another to the annoyance and reluctant support of the little hero. And perhaps villain taking it easy on fights not wanting to put civilian or the little hero in danger. Please and thank you! Love your writing!

"Just a moment!" Civilian called at the library door's signature screeeech. They'd already talked to the school board several times about ungumming the hinges or replacing the doors or something, but as usual, the library wasn't top of the list for school funds. But of course, the football team was definitely cleared to go to Disneyland if they won State next month because that was an important experience for 25 students it benefitted.

Civilian did their best not to slam the books down as they finished unloading their book cart, but they couldn't help if a few of the bigger volumes made a louder thud than the rest. Calm. Caaaalm. They couldn't afford to scare away a potential reader; the library was empty enough as it was. If it declined anymore they wouldn't be allowed to make any more book orders, and admittedly, those were largely personal.

Civilian forced a cheery voice as they popped out from around the bookshelf. "Alright, how can I help--"

A pair of slitted, bottle-green eyes flashed up from the little pith helmeted bobblehead wobbling on the edge of Civilian's desk. At the sight of Civilian, a strange grin--almost a snarl--curled the corners of their mouth, revealing one large fang that poked unnaturally thick and long over their bottom lip. Not a student. Not a teacher. A stranger. No, if only they were that. Civilian may have never met Villain in person before, but that didn't mean they couldn't recognize them. There were really only so many fiamora running around.

"Well, well," they purred silkily, stalking closer, shoulders rolled forward like the predator they were. "Who would have thought. Hero's beloved mentor a defenseless little librarian?"

Civilian should have made a run for one of the doors. Maybe the one on the left side leading into the parking lot. They should have banked on Villain's unfamiliarity and their own experience with the room. Instead, they did what most prey do under panic: they backed deeper into their hole.

"Oh, don't run away," Villain cooed as Civilian retreated amongst the bookshelves.

Civilian ducked out of one aisle and into another and then another. If they knew anything about fiamora, and they liked to flatter themself that they did, they couldn't stay in one spot for too long. Or repeat the same movement too many times. The creatures had premonitory abilities, especially acute when hunting, and anything stagnant or in a rhythm was clear to their mind's eye. Unfortunately, there was only so much you could do in an endless line of shelves.

"You're just running in circles," Villain said from the next aisle over.

Civilian's heart rose into their throat, clogging their airway with the heaviness of their pulse. Maybe-- Maybe if they climbed one of the shelves? That was different. Right? They started scaling anyway.

"I have to say, I admire your work. But I'm a little disappointed today. Maybe your tactics aren't so great under pressure. Or maybe you don't know how to apply them to yourself. Is that why you rely on the wits of a teenager?"

Villain pounced around the corner.

Civilian jumped, losing their balance on the third shelf and falling back against the bookshelf behind them with a frantic flap of their arms. Several fantasy novels thunked to the floor.

Villain roared with laughter then dropped the remains of their chuckles into a low throaty hum. The tufted end of their tail skimmed over the book spines as they prowled closer.

Civilian attempted to scramble to their feet, but too late. Villain’s clawed hands slammed down on the shelf to either side of them. Trapped.

"You know, I really wasn't expecting you," Villain mused. "All those tactics and plans. I thought for sure you were some sort of mage or at the very least, a retired hero. So where did you get all that knowledge?"

"Books mostly," Civilian said. It was meant to sound wry, but with the walls of their throat constricted around their heartbeat, it came out squeaky. They cleared their throat. "How did you find me?"

Villain's tail wrapped around Civilian's ankle. "The kid's smart, but they're not exactly infallible. Five different routes to this school after our fights? It threw me off for a while, but what are 8 months in the grand scheme of things?"

Stupid. Civilian was so stupid. They had told Hero to change up the routes to get here, but the kid couldn't make up more than what was available. They should have started meeting in other locations as well. This had always just been such a convenient location it never occurred to them... They'd thought themself so intelligent like one of the adventurous scholars in their books. But they really were just an inexperienced nobody who'd barely stepped out of their hometown. If they died it was their own fault. They just hoped someone other than Hero found them.

They looked up helplessly into Villain's eyes. That color wasn't common in humans, and it was much brighter in a living host than the formaldehyde-soaked samples shown to them in lectures.

"Are you going to kill me?" They heard themself say, slightly mesmerized.

"Oh, I don't know," Villain grinned, bending in closer. "I doubt Hero would be much fun without you. But then again, they have been an irritating thorn in my side. Maybe I should end it here."

The overhead lights glinted off their saber tooth. Only one. That was strange. Had they lost one? But the one they did have was so small. Maybe they'd lost both and the left was growing back in faster. Or perhaps Civilian's theories on the fiamora's age had been wrong.

“Um, is that new?” They didn't know why they said it. They were about to be torn apart, and they were wondering about their would-be murderer's fangs?

The slits in Villain's eye blew out a little. They cocked their head. “Huh?”

“The saber tooth," Civilian clarified. "There’s only one, but quite a few fiamora lines are genetically prone to one starter tooth growing in late, and this one only just curls over your lip so, that makes me think it may be your first one?”

What were they doing?

Villain pulled back a little, all traces of mischief vanished from their expression. “So you think the second one will still come in?”

“How long since the first one came in?” Civilian asked. They just couldn't help themself.

“A couple months.”

“Worry after 6 months. It's still within the bounds of initial maturity."

Villain sat back on their heels with a sigh. Their tail still wrapped around Civilian's leg, and the end now subconciously brushed the inside of their calf.

"Thank the ancients. You have no idea how worried I was, and with no one to talk about it, I never thought it might be genetic."

Civilian nodded knowingly. "Right, fiamora don't live in packs and your mothers leave before your teeth come in. I can imagine that sort of solitary living would be hard when you have questions. Well, actually, I never thought about it until now. It never occurred to me that you might want to talk to another of your kind. The books always made it sound like you wanted to be alone. That's my mistake."

Villain stared at them. Civilian flinched. They had started talking to them like some sort of specimen. What was wrong with them? They were definitely going to die now. Change the subject! Change the subject!

"You know, Hero never really described you, so I worried we were dealing with some sort of ancient." Civilian chuckled lamely. Something strange was happening to them. An edge that didn't come from a fear of dying. "What a relief."

"The tyke never described you much either," Villain said, closing in again. "Safety reasons I'm sure."

That saber tooth was so fascinating. How sharp was the point? The books said they tore into flesh like butter, but did that come with bite force or innate sharpness? Maybe...maybe they could touch it.

They stopped their hand inches away. Were they concussed or something? Sticky warmth gathered on the back of their head where they hit the bookshelf, so maybe. In any case, they were being weird!

Villain stared at their extended hand for a moment then plopped their cheek into their palm. A violent shiver ran up Civilian's arm.

"I...er...I wasn't..."

"You like fiamoras?" Villain said, eyes looking up at them intensly.

Civilian swallowed. "Yes. I have a degree in other worldly creatures, but, um, I wrote my thesis on fiamoras, so... Yes."

"Lucky you. I like bespectacled humans who read lots of books."

"Oh," was all Civilian could think to say as the villain leaned in closer. Their breath tickled warm against their cheek.

"Your head is bleeding," Villain said, thumbing the sticky part of Civilian's head.

"I'll put a bandage on it later," Civilian said, unable to take their eyes off the villain's looming face.

Villain's nose brushed against their temple as they brought their mouth to the hollow of their ear. "Your Hero is coming."

"That's fine." How could anything have such beautiful eyes? The more Civilian looked into them, the less real they seemed. More like something out of a dream. They could stare at them all-- "Hold on, what did you say?"

"What the--" Hero stood at the end of the aisle with their hands thrown over their face, body doubled over as if in excruciating pain. "Agh! My eyes! What are you even doing?"

"Hero!" Civilian cried. "This isn't-- Nothing is-- They came to kill me!"

"I think I'm going to throw up," Hero gagged.

"I'm serious! This is a murder situation!"

Villain's tail loosed from Civilian's ankle, and they brushed off the knees of their trousers as they straightened up.

"It was nice meeting you, Civilian. Let's do it again. But maybe next time somewhere more private?" They turned away from Civilian's burning face and toward Hero. "See you around, kiddie."

They shot the teenager a wink as they passed by, and the shriek of the door announced their leave.

***

"I wasn't going to kiss them," Civilian deadpanned, gathering up the stray novels into their arms.

"Your lips were like this!" Hero said, pinching their thumbs and forefingers together and holding them just shy of touching.

"I was looking at their saber tooth. That's it. I've never seen a fiamora so close up before. I was curious."

"Oh yeah, I bet you were curious about that tooth. Curious how it'd feel in your mouth."

"Hero!"

"What?" Hero cried defensively. "I'm just saying!"

"It's disrespectful and distasteful and you're too young to talk about it anyway."

"Too young to talk about kissing?"

"Too young to talk to me about my dating life. Nothing happened. It was...it was a typical hero/villain hostage situation. Like in the movies. I'm glad you walked in on it."

Hero raised their eyebrows at them, unconvinced, but instead of saying anything, they began picking up books too.

The air conditioning hummed in the stretched silence as they read labels and re-alphabetized each row, but Civilian's face still felt hot.

They had to be grateful it was Hero and not another student who had seen them in that situation. The library had enough issues without adding 'promiscuous librarian' to it. How would they have explained to the board that it was actually a villain making an attempt on their life--because that was exactly what it was--, not a visiting lover and that they’d tracked them down because they were secretly helping the city's hero with battle planning in their off-hours? Even if they believed them, it still meant they'd potentially put students in danger. They would have been fired for sure.

They pressed their palm to their forehead. Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.

"It'd punch a hole through your lip," Hero said suddenly.

"Huh?"

"The tooth. If you kissed, it would totally tear through your lip, or your cheek, or your gums. I've kissed people before, and it's basic mechanics."

"And you think I haven't?" Civilian cried. What did the kid take them for? "Obviously, I would kiss around it!" They froze, a furious blush warming their neck and ears. "N-not that I would ever kiss Villain in the first place. That would be...morally compromising. Probably."

Hero narrowed their eyes. "Should I be worried about you joining the dark side out of fatuous love?"

"No!" Where did the kid even learn terms like that? Maybe Civilian needed to dumb down their conversations a little. "Even if I were to for whatever reason date Villain, which I'm not, it would never change my position on what's good and bad. I could never ever turn my back on you."

Hero sighed. "Alright, I trust you. If you promise you'll still be on my side, I guess you have my permission to make out with my nemesis."

Civilian smacked Hero upside the head with a paperback. "That's enough of that. Do your homework."

Part Two

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empyreanwritings · 2 years

Text

Redeemable

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Villain!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Summary: You weren't a do-gooder; the idea of saving the world gave you hives, if you were being honest. But you'd do anything to make sure Spiderman knew he was better than anger.

Warnings: mentions of Gwen's death, violence, language, canon-level fighting and crime, grief, minor angst

A/N: This is my first TASM!Peter piece, but I have a feeling I'm going to get hooked and want to write more for him! Please let me know what you think - reblogs and comments are always welcome :) x

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Word spread around the city that Spiderman was different. More violent towards criminals. Didn’t stop to chat with his fans. J. Jonah Jameson had a field day every time another story came out about Spiderman’s cruelty. You didn’t want to believe it, but it started happening so often, it was too hard to ignore.

He wasn’t your responsibility, but what good is being a villain if the hero assigned to you is going off the rails? It made every job you took boring - and you didn’t do well with being bored.

You noticed the famous web-slinger flying through the alleys one night, and you took it upon yourself to follow him. Sometimes you listened to the police scanners just to know what part of the city you should avoid, but now you listened to know where Spiderman was going to appear next. Reports of a bank robbery were flooding in, and you knew that was where he was off to.

The suspects fled the scene. Go figure. Spiderman was hot on their trail, and you were right behind him. You didn’t get to the suspects first, but you landed in the alleyway just as he slammed one guy’s head into the dumpster more times than necessary. The wet smack of his skull against the metal made you cringe. You quickly ran up to intercept him, but the man was already slumped over before you could.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You gasped as you assessed him. His breathing was shallow, but he would live. You turned back towards Spiderman, who was already trying to swing off, but you latched onto his wrist before he could. “You could have killed him!”

“Why do you care?” Spiderman bit back. “He’s a criminal who needed to be stopped, and I stopped him.”

“He’s a thief who looks barely old enough to drink. He didn’t deserve to get his brains smashed in.”

He scoffed. “As if you care who really gets hurt in this city. Didn’t your last job end up with three people dead?”

“Three pedophiles are dead, yes. Do I have any regrets? No, but those are the cards I’ve dealt in my life. You’re supposed to be better than this.”

“Maybe I’m not anymore.”

His voice broke at the end. You moved to reach out for him again, but he flinched. Something must have happened in his personal life, and you weren’t on good enough terms to get him to tell you, but for a brief moment you wished he would. Just to get it out in the open. Just to let out whatever pain he fostered inside of his stupid spidey heart.

You sighed. “Listen, you don’t need to go down this path. You’re not like us bad guys, Spidey. You’re not irredeemable, and I don’t think you should let the world believe you are.”

You weren’t sure if he liked what you said because he swung away without another word, but you silently prayed he would listen. A thought crossed your mind after another beat, and you internally groaned. You knew you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about the idea now that you’ve thought it. It was stupidly self-righteous of you, but you had no other choice now.

If Spiderman wanted to beat the shit out of criminals, you were going to get to the crime scene before he did and take care of them yourself. Every potential step down the dark path was going to be thwarted by you. And you hated it. You weren’t supposed to be the good guy; you weren’t supposed to care about chaos running through the city. But for some stupid reason, you cared about Spiderman. You couldn’t let him make things worse on himself.

At first it had been a challenge. Spiderman had a horrible advantage with his web-slinging. He could soar over some of the tallest buildings, while you were stuck running on foot. Even with your enhanced speed, you still struggled. You solved the issue by stealing a motorcycle from one of the criminals Spiderman got a hold of before you could.

The guy was already hospitalized - it wasn’t like he was gonna need the bike for a while anyways.

Having the ability to swerve in and out of traffic made things much easier. You arrived on scene minutes before Spidey could, and it was enough time to apprehend whoever caused the trouble. At first, he didn’t say anything about it. He simply scoffed and swung off, leaving you to follow him to make sure he didn’t cause any more trouble.

But by the fifth scene you secured before he could, he finally snapped. He was tired of seeing you there to help the bad guys. Tired of feeling all the pent up aggression inside of him have no place to be let out. Mostly, he was tired of you looking at him like you pitied him because you had no idea what he was going through. He didn’t want your pity. He just wanted you to leave him the hell alone.

He caught you on a rooftop one night, getting ready to jump in on a mugging. He ripped you off the ledge and slammed you down onto the gravel. You cursed but made no move to fight him off.

“Why are you doing this?” He shouted in your face. His hands gripped the front of your suit so tight, you were surprised it didn’t tear. If he didn’t have a mask, you imagined his nose would be pressed against yours.

“I told you, Spidey. You’re better than this, and I’m making sure you don’t ruin your image to the point of no return.”

He let go and stumbled back almost as if he were caught off guard by your words. Most people resorted to hating him now. Even the kids who once looked up to him pretended not to see him swinging through the sky because they knew the Spiderman they saw wasn’t the same. It was almost as if they could see the empty shell of a man he became.

He certainly didn’t expect you to care. You met three years ago when he caught you trying to swipe a painting from the Museum of Modern Art. When you spoke to him then, he felt nothing but venom in your words. You can’t possibly understand what it is like to need to steal to survive, you said. Sure, the more he intercepted your jobs, the more you warmed up to him. The hateful comments turned into witty quips that left him wondering if you were flirting with him or not. Not that he would ever entertain flirting with you when he was with Gwen.

When.

Spiderman cleared his throat and looked down at you. You continued to lie there and look up at him, clearly trying to figure out if you were going to have to kick his shins in just to stop him from swinging away again. He held out his hand to help you up. You reluctantly took it and brushed the bits of gravel stuck to your suit once you were fully up.

“I lost someone recently,” he murmured. “It was my fault. I couldn’t save her, and she- she shouldn’t have been in danger in the first place. If she didn’t know my secret-”

“You know that’s bullshit right?” You cut him off with a huff.

“What?”

“I know what you are going to say. ‘If she didn’t know my secret, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt’ as if that was a decision for you to make.” You adjusted your mask over your nose, being careful not to let him get a glimpse at too much of your face. “Leaving her in the dark could just as easily have gotten her killed. You can’t change the threads of Fate once they’ve been woven, so at least you had her while you could.”

He shook his head. “You don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Maybe I don’t. I have plenty of enemies, but I haven’t had the opportunity to know what real love is like. I think you’re lucky,” you paused to give yourself a moment to climb back onto the ledge, “And if she was great enough to leave you in ruins when she died, I know she wouldn’t have wanted to see you this way. Get your shit together, Spidey. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You leapt from the ledge, leaving him to ponder on your words. You weren’t sure why you had such a soft spot for the hero. Maybe he gave you hope that not every superhero was a jackass. Sometimes the ones you interacted with were insufferable and just wanted to throw you in jail, but Spiderman? He always tried to have conversations with you. Most of the time it was only witty banter that went on until he decided to web you up, but it was still more decency than anyone had shown you before. It gave you hope - made you believe he saw something good in you that you stopped seeing a long time ago.

You glanced up at the roof and hoped he would take your advice. Until then, you would keep ruining every plan he had to beat the shit out of people.

You expected to run into Spiderman the next day, but you grew suspicious when you arrived at four crime scenes and he never showed up. You continued on for several days in hopes he would come, but days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into a month. Headlines started to change from “SPIDEY-MENACE STRIKES AGAIN” to “Spiderman abandoned the city when it needed him most.” You nearly rolled your eyes out of their sockets when you saw that.

The media spent so much time criticizing him, but now they cared because he no longer stopped crime?

All you could do was hope he didn’t get himself killed because he tried to hurt the wrong person. You doubted that was the case, but you still worried. You knew what some people were capable of, and you knew how much anger Spiderman kept close to his chest. Anger made people sloppy. What if he slipped up and got himself hurt because he finally let the anger win?

You shook your head. You couldn’t let yourself think about it.

The news caught on to a “new hero” saving the day, but they didn’t know who it was. You were grateful. The last thing you needed was for people to catch a picture of you saving someone instead of robbing them blind. But you didn’t want to stop either because you still hoped Spidey would show up and see you again. You held onto that hope for another six months before you began to wonder if the worst scenario really came true.

“You think Spiderman is ever going to come back?” Your friend, MJ, asked as you grabbed your coffee from the barista.

You pulled out one of the stools at the counter and took a seat. You tried not to sit too close to the guy who occupied the corner seat, but his shit was everywhere, so it wasn’t as if he made it easy.

“I don’t know,” you replied. “I just hope he isn’t dead.”

MJ gasped. “Do you think he could be?”

You shrugged but chose not to answer. Yes, you did think so. Why else would he fall off the face of the earth without saying anything? You hated jumping to conclusions, but your world was full of the worst case scenarios. What else were you supposed to think?

“Well, I guess if he is dead then Black Cat is off the hook, huh? You can start stealing from the museums again!” MJ teased, nudging your arm with her elbow.

You shushed her, missing the way the man next to you seemed to lift his head at her words. “I told you that in confidence, you crazy-pants. Are you trying to get us killed? I have too many enemies for you to fuck around like that.”

“First of all, you didn’t tell me. I found out because you leave your suit lying around the apartment. Second, you know what I mean. It was only a matter of time before you got caught doing Spiderman’s work, did you really want a hero title?”

She gently squeezed your arm and turned her attention to her phone. “I gotta go. See you tonight for dinner?”

You nodded and bid her a quiet goodbye as you looked down at your coffee. You didn’t want a hero title. You just wanted Spiderman back.

Heat started to burn the side of your face, and you looked over to see the man in the corner staring at you. The look on his face made your stomach turn, so you offered him a shy smile and quickly left the coffee shop. You made a mental note to check the camera feed of the place later to try and locate his face. If he overheard your conversation then you were going to have to threaten him into silence. You groaned. This was so not how you wanted to spend your Saturday night.

You slipped into the crowd without a word, but you could feel the guy following you. Hair rose on the back of your neck, and you tried to slip deeper into the crowded sidewalk but he stayed close to your heels. You didn’t have any of your weapons on you and that’s what made you panic. At best, you had a comb that could be used as a shank, but it was at the bottom of your bag and you weren’t sure if you had enough time to grab it.

You just needed a distraction. You glanced down at a kid scarfing down an ice cream and smirked. Good enough. You fisted the scoop of ice cream right off the cone and lobbed it at the man. It hit him in the middle of his chest, and he looked down at it in surprise. The kid’s mother started to yell at you just as he began to wail. It was enough of a distraction to get you down the sidewalk and out of sight.

Your lungs burned by the time you turned down an alley to catch your breath. You looked down at your hand and frowned as you tried to shake off the excess goop on it. Was it your slickest moment? No. Did it still work? You sure hoped so because you weren’t in the mood to kick anyone’s ass to keep your secret right now. You were hoping for nothing more than mild threatening, but look at where those hopes got you!

“How did you know I liked mint chocolate chip?” Someone laughed from the entrance of the alley. He must have noticed the way you jumped and reached for the nearest thing that could be used as a weapon because he held up his hands in surrender. “Wait! Wait! I’m sorry- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you. Or chased you down the sidewalk.”

Your grip tightened around the broken plywood, but you didn’t take a step forward. “You think? What the hell did you think you were going to accomplish by following me?”

“Listen, I know this probably makes it worse on myself, but I heard you and your friend talking at the café.”

“You’re right, it does make it worse, so I’m going to give you ten seconds to talk or I’ll turn your brain into Jell-O.”

Something about your words made his eyes twinkle. His nervous smile changed into something more sly, and you couldn’t put your finger on why that didn’t make you feel as unsettled as it should have.

“That would just be hypocritical of you,” he teased. “Do you want to be known as a hypocrite? I mean, what would Spiderman think?”

“What does he-” Your eyes grew wide. You scolded Spiderman for trying to de-brain a criminal, and you know the ones who got their asses kicked wouldn’t remember what your conversation was…which meant…

You closed the distance between you and gently punched him over the ice cream stain on his shirt. “You! You bastard! I thought you were dead, and you’re spending all your free time stalking women at coffee shops?”

“To be fair, I haven’t been stalking anyone. You just happened to be my first victim.” He held out his hand, making you scoff at how polite he was trying to be right now. “My name’s Peter Parker. I think we have a lot to catch up on.”

You smacked at his hand. “Don’t make it weird. You’re only revealing yourself to me because you feel bad that I got outed fifteen minutes ago.”

He laughed but you noticed he didn’t deny it. You took this moment to finally get a look at his face. You never wondered what Spidey looked like under that mask of his because you respected his privacy, but now that you were seeing him with your own two eyes, it didn’t feel real. You hated that he was so handsome. It made everything about his persona even more insufferable than before.

“I took what you said to heart,” he confessed quietly. His eyes focused on his shoes, but you kept your gaze locked on his face. “I got some help. I knew it was going to take time, so I hung up the suit for a bit to focus on getting better.”

You smiled softly and reached out to grab his hand. He didn’t pull away from your touch but gave you a gentle squeeze instead. “I’m glad to hear you’re doing better. I told ya, you’re better than us criminals.”

To avoid getting into a deep conversation, you gave his hand another squeeze and slipped around him. You were relieved to know that Spiderman wasn’t dead, but everything that happened within the last twenty minutes was catching up in your brain and making you dizzy. You needed to make a break for it.

“You aren’t irredeemable, you know,” he called after you. You stopped, turning your head just enough to see him out of the corner of your eye. “You took the time to help me, and now I’m going to take the time to make sure you know it too.”

You stuck out your chin defiantly. “Is that a threat, Parker?”

He smiled - a big crooked smile that made your heart race in your chest. “It’s a promise.”

#peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #spiderman oneshot #spiderman imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker oneshot #tasm!peter parker imagine #spiderman fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman fic #peter parker fic

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moonlight-prose · 2 years

Text

PARALLEL HEARTS | ITSY BITSY

a/n: literally was crying and cheering in the theater and i came home to write this cause i had to. hope you guys like it! i'll tag spoilers down below so those of you who haven't seen it don't come across this fic. if you have seen it WHAT DID YOU THINK?? i'm about ready to explode from the insanity that movie was.

BE WARNED NO WAY HOME SPOILERS ARE AHEAD OF YOU.

summary: in a world where people know that peter parker is enemy #1, you find yourself thrown into the middle of things. all cause of an unexpected visitor who dropped in.

word count: 3.6k+

pairing: peter parker x fem!reader (not tom holland guys)

warnings: not explicit, slight cussing, quantum physics jokes, a frazzled spider-man, some shitty explanation about the multiverse theory, and yearning.

next chapter

Your stereo shouldn’t have been blaring at a time like this.

The world knew who Spider-Man was and as you shut off the news and focused on the pile of papers that needed to be graded, you tried not to feel bad for the kid who had his life screwed up this badly. Granted you didn’t know him, let alone understood what was happening, but the world had turned into a crazy place ever since Tony Stark started flying through the skies of New York City.

Helicopters flew over your building, causing your window to rattle just as they started doing when word spread around Queens that a boy/superhero had killed someone. You weren’t one to point fingers so quickly which is why you shut off the television. Already agitated by what they were playing. If you had to hear J. Jonah Jameson ramble on one more time about Peter Parker being a villain you were sure that you’d hurl your phone into the screen of your t.v.

“Poor kid,” you muttered, sipping at the coffee you made earlier and grimacing at the cold liquid that you were greeted with.

You had to stop leaving your mugs forgotten about in the kitchen.

To be fair there was a sensible reason why you forgot said mug. The small white board in your living room was taking up all your time as you went over equation after equation. If you had known becoming a professor’s paid assistant would mean going over calculations you hadn’t done in years, you weren’t sure you would have taken the job. Except you happened to like the eating and living part of being in this city.

Nothing came cheap.

Yet another helicopter flew overhead, causing you to shut your eyes in a moment of silence in the hopes that things would go back to the way they were. Eventually they would leave him alone. For the time being you just had to get used to the fact that you lived way too close to where his building was. Perhaps it was time for a change in lease.

“Divide this by the-”

A bang echoed outside. Loud enough to make you slightly wary. Slightly.

Standing, you glanced towards the window in the hopes that it was simply nothing. A car backfiring or even someone running into something. Nothing strange happened in this area. Well - that is until a boy with superhuman strength calling himself Spider-Man decided to take up the mantle as hero of Queens. It had been sometime since his secret had been revealed and yet they still flew over his building. Checking in to see how the new celebrity was.

None of that mattered.

“Focus,” you mumbled, erasing the pencil marks in your notebook as you continued. “Divide this by the denominator-”

Bang!

BANG!

You scrambled off your couch as something thumped harshly and rather loudly against your now cracked window. The first thing you grabbed was of course not the knife that sat on the counter beside you, or even the crowbar you had somehow ended up finding in the back of your closet when you moved in. No. You had to grab the cheese grater out of all things available to you in the time of panic.

“Shit!” you shouted, as the window slid open. Pieces of glass now falling to your rug.

Great, time to throw that out.

The time for bravery was two minutes ago except you could barely get your feet to shift forwards. Part of you wanted to scream for help, but then you saw what exactly had hit your window. Or actually…who had hit the glass. Standing still enough to resemble a statue, you watched the very kid they were after crawl into your apartment. Red spandex suit and all, he grunted his way through the task.

Falling to the floor in the least graceful way possible.

You weren’t sure if you should go help or run for the hills. At this point moving to any other state sounded good to you. Only to remember a few seconds later that the purple fucker dusted people everywhere which meant that staying in Queens was possibly the best choice you could make at this time. Sighing, you dropped your arm, feeling the strain in your muscles from holding a cheese grater up for more than three minutes.

His head shot up. Large white suit eyes met yours and suddenly you came to the conclusion that he was in fact alive.

There was no plan in your mind for something like this. No grand scheme that you came up with in case Spider-Man fell into your apartment after being prosecuted for murder. Do you call the police? Except they might think that you were a part of everything he did and that would also drop you in a mess you didn’t wish to be in.

Either way, this didn’t look good.

“Um…hi?” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Internally you were panicking in every way you knew how to panic.

He shifted to his feet quickly, raising his hands up slowly. What would have been construed as a sign of peace to anyone else somehow did nothing but make you panic even further. Without a second thought, you chucked the cheese grater at him. Yelping as it smacked him right on the head.

“Ow!” A gloved hand moved to clutch at his forehead. “A cheese grater?” he muttered, turning his gaze to the floor where your pathetic excuse for a weapon lay. “Out of all the things in a kitchen you grab a cheese grater.”

“You should have moved.”

There he was, back to staring at you through the unnerving white eyes that you now hated with a passion. How they seemed to stare right into the very depths of your soul you didn’t know. You weren’t sure that you wanted to find out though. Not with the way things were going.

“I should have moved?”

“Well aren’t you Spider-Man?”

“You threw the-” He raised his hands again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to barge into your home or-” Shifting his foot he cringed at the sounds of glass shards being kicked around. “-break your window.”

If someone had told you that one day Spider-Man would be standing in your living room, apologizing for breaking your window, you would have laughed at them. This had to be a joke right? He couldn’t possibly be standing there, rubbing his head and attempting to place a piece of your window back only for it to fall again. Breaking further. You should stop him before there’s nothing but sand left beneath his feet, only the shock of the situation still hasn't subsided.

“So you are him right?”

“What?” Cringing again when another piece broke off, crashing to the floor, he turned his attention back to you.

“You’re…him?”

“I’m him?”

“Peter Parker?” you asked, watching as he froze. “Or are you not the kid they tried to convict?”

A long beat of silence followed your words and if there’s one thing you were sure of it’s that awkward silences were not your strong suit. Silence you could do, but this…waiting for the other to respond. You weren’t sure what to do in situations such as this one. The thought of walking out the door sounded appealing to you, but then that would leave him in your apartment unattended to.

“How do you-” Glancing behind him at the still broken window, you wondered if he would leave the same way he came in. Your building had a fire escape which is why him slamming into the window didn’t make any sense. “Nobody should know that.”

“It’s all over the news.” You reached for the remote, flipping to the closest news channel you could find that still plastered Peter’s name everywhere they could. “Are - are you not him?”

He shook his head, reaching for the top of his mask, yanking it off just as quickly to reveal - not Peter Parker. Which meant there was a stranger standing in your living room. You grabbed for something else to throw at him in the hopes that he would leave as ungracefully as he came in. Except something sticky latched onto your wrist, forcing you to stand right where you were. Even if you tried to reach for it - which you did - he simply yanked you back into place, the panicked expression on his face nearly matching yours entirely.

“I think something is wrong,” he said softly, looking at the decor on the walls around him.

“Yeah something is wrong. There’s a grown man standing here dressed as Spider-Man!” you shouted. An overdramatic response if you said so yourself, but there wasn’t much else to do. He had you unable to move as he tried to figure out whatever existential crisis he was going through in the span of fifteen seconds.

He shook his head, raising his hand and releasing the web on your wrist. “Sorry. I - I don’t think I’m in the right…how do I say this? Where am I?”

“Queens?”

“Right.” You watched him sit on the chair near your window as he mulled over what was happening. “But this isn’t my Queens.”

“Your Queens? What do you mean-” Catching a small glance at the television you watched as a man with octopus legs fought Spider-Man on the highway. Which meant that the man sitting across from you was still technically Spider-Man just… “Your Queens,” you mumbled.

“I like what you’ve done with the place by the way.”

“What I’ve-”

He gestured to the art on the walls, the decor that you had carefully picked out over the years of living here. “This used to be my place. Well - obviously not my place, but…you know.”

“Is that why you came here?” you asked, turning towards the bookshelf that housed all the textbooks you used as a professor’s assistant. Getting a degree in quantum mechanics didn’t seem like something that would earn you a job quickly, but in cases like this you found it came in handy.

He nodded. “I thought I might find my - girlfriend.” Coughing he scratched the back of his neck to avoid the sight of the tips of his ears turning red. “Technically I did, but seeing as how you don’t recognize me I’m going to say you’re not her.”

You nearly dropped the book on the ground as you spun to face him, your eyes wide. “Are you saying that I am your…well not me but the me of a different universe is your…” Again he nodded. “That’s fucking insane.”

“Thanks?”

“No!” Reaching for yet another book that might explain the reason for everything happening, you unceremoniously dropped it on the table. “I mean it’s obviously possible that I would date you. I am - you’re very - er - nice?”

Awkward didn’t even begin to cover what exactly was happening between the two of you.

If you had it correct - or even semi-accurate - the theory of parallel universes had just been proven to be in fact real. There was not enough scientific information to tell you what was happening and why, but thankfully there happened to be enough to explain some of it. Or at least the parts that you studied in college.

Flipping to the page you needed, you glanced over the words and equations until you came across something you recognized. The good old reliable term that used to make you rip your hair out from studying it.

“Have you ever heard of string theory?”

He stood quickly, joining you at the table and glancing at the textbook you were mulling over. “Yeah I studied it when I tried to figure out how I became well - Spider-Man. What does it have to do with this?”

“I know it sounds insane, but you’re saying that this is your home and I’m your girlfriend but I’ve never seen you before. You also said - your queens. What if the theory of the multiverse actually exists?”

Glancing at you he gently tugged the textbook his way to try and come up with a conclusion that would make sense to him. “Multiverse. So you’re saying that I am not from this universe.”

“Think about it. The theory states that we reside in one universe, but that one universe would be surrounded by a number of infinite universes. Each one with their own qualities and differences. In your universe you are Spider-Man - Peter Parker - and yet here you are-”

“Not him. Except something massive would have to happen for me to be brought here. If string theory is correct it means that each universe is like a membrane. But something had to bring me here.” He muttered over the textbook, reading the theories that were written and the notes you had scribbled in the margins years ago. “What if the universes - the membranes - what if they-”

“Collided,” you said, flipping to yet another book. “That might explain why you were yanked out of your home.”

“But what would have caused them to collide?”

Reaching for your phone you tried to ignore the number that was there from years ago when you were first starting out in trying to be a professor’s assistant. Your paths crossed with him when he came on campus to visit the woman you were working for at the time. One coffee later and you were helping him on things that he found fascinating. Really all you could think was that you were far too naive to involve yourself with the likes of him.

“I might have someone who can help…” you said, scrolling until you found his number. “Although he and I haven’t spoken in forever.”

“Do you think he might know what’s going on?”

You laughed dryly, feeling the exhaustion of the day settle on your shoulders and it was barely five o’clock. “Oh he definitely might have an idea.”

Peter nodded, turning back to the pages as he tried to divulge as much information as he could. Never having studied the multiverse, he wasn’t sure what exactly occurred for him to have been brought here and yet, things that were strange always happened to him.

Your heart began to speed up faster than you would have liked it to, but then again you were about to call someone who you had a major crush on. An inappropriate crush, but still it was there. What more did you have to lose already? A different Peter Parker was sitting beside you, munching on a small plate of carrots you had cut up for yourself as he read about the multiverse.

This day couldn’t have gotten any more insane than it already was.

Of course his number went to voicemail. “Hey Stephen, it's me. I don’t know if you remember who I am, but if you do and you aren’t busy please call me back. There’s a situation happening that I think might be your doing. A Peter Parker situation.”

“Will he help?” he asked.

“I don’t know. He’s not really an expert in…this,” you replied, getting up to find something else for him to eat. Traveling across universes must have taken a toll on his body.

“Then what is he?”

You sighed, recalling the sights of him fighting in a suit that didn't look familiar. “He’s - something.” Pulling out the cold pizza from last night you dropped a few slices onto a plate and set it on the table, watching him reach for it instantly. “Since you’re not in the right place, you’re welcome to stay here tonight.”

That must have shocked him immensely, because he froze mid bite. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

Sure laughing at a time like this was not the best move, but the whole situation did seem rather ridiculous to you. “You’ve already smashed my window and are studying the multiverse theory on my kitchen table. Sleeping on my couch isn’t going to impose on my night.”

Convincing him to agree to this would take some time so you decided to already make the decision for him. There would be no place outside that would be safe from people already trying to go after Spider-Man. As of this moment he was homeless and in need of some clothes to cover his suit. So you grabbed the first thing you could find. An old NYU sweatshirt that had been sent to you in the men’s size. Normally you wouldn’t have minded if the sleeves didn’t practically drag on the floor.

“You can wear this tonight. I have some sweatpants my friend left here that might fit you,” you said, handing him the clothes and leaving to go find extra blankets and pillows.

Was it strange that a completely different Peter Parker, who claimed to be dating an alternate universe you, was staying on your couch? Yes. Except you couldn’t really let any of that bother you at a time like this. Especially not now when he was still standing in your living room now changed into the comfy clothes. He looked strangely - at home. In his element, as if he was merely getting ready to watch a night of t.v. with you.

“I don’t have very many extra blankets.” You handed him the large oversized purple throw blanket you bought on a whim two months ago. “The heater in this building gets really warm so it shouldn’t be too cold at night.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, throwing the blanket onto the couch with the pillow that said - embarrassingly enough - Quantum physicists have the best sex. They know all the super positions. “I like your pillow.”

A flood of heat rushed to the back of your neck and up your face, causing you to warm up within seconds. So much for wearing a sweater. All you really needed was a guy in your apartment, mentally teasing you every way he knew how about a pillow your friend had bought you as a graduation gift. You knew you should have thrown it out the window. There was actually still time now that the glass was broken entirely, letting in all manner of sounds and scents from the city streets below.

“Not sure if you want more food. There’s a really good sandwich place on the corner.” Gesturing which way to go you ignored the way he still held the pillow in his hands, biting back a smile.

In his universe it was him who had bought you this pillow. Something he found at a gift shop at your university and yet now…here it was. Staring him straight in the face as he watched you and all your awkward glory try to explain the area to him. He wanted to hug you. Feel the familiar warmth you emitted as a comfort for him and yet he knew it would only make you feel even more uncomfortable. That was the one thing he didn’t want happening.

Peter resided in shoving his memories of a different you out of his mind. You weren’t his. Not here and if he managed to get home, he would tell the other you all about his adventures. How he met someone who still managed to make him feel at home in a universe that was adamant on being against Spider-Man.

“Thank you,” he said, hoping that if he ended the night’s conversation here it would feel less awkward for you. “You didn’t have to do this.”

Your expression softened, shifting into something he’d seen before. The very look that made him fall in love with you the first time around. If he wasn’t careful…it would happen again and he didn’t plan on staying here that long.

Things could have been different. You could have tossed him out at the first realization of who he was, but you didn’t. Instead you chose - rather stupidly - to involve yourself in a mess that wasn’t yours. A mess that you knew might get you killed eventually. Except then you saw it. The look of being lost that you once held on your own face at one time in your life. Okay at many times in your life.

He didn’t know this place - this world - and how could you call yourself a caring human if you sent someone on their way without so much as offering some help. Nodding, you offered him a small smile before heading back to the table to pour over a few more books. There had to be some explanation as to what happens when universes collide. Perhaps not scientifically proven, but theories had to be proven one way or another.

Might as well show the world that the multiverse does in fact exist with the help of a superhero.

You had to grade the papers that were still stacked on your table and with a reluctant sigh you dragged them towards you as Peter took the chair beside you to read some more. Sure, there was actual living proof of the most debated scientific theory ever created sitting beside you and yet you still had to get on with your life.

Life sure had a way of throwing curveballs at the oddest of times. Listening to the t.v. talk about the day some more as the echoes of people on the streets came in through the window, you did what you did best. Focused on the task at hand in order to come up with a solution.

The buzzing of your phone on the kitchen counter went unknown by either of you, as Peter began writing equations on the white board - the words Stephen Strange and voicemail popping up a few seconds later.

#peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker #the amazing spider man #tasm #peter parker one shot #spiderman #spiderman no way home spoilers #no way home spoilers #no way home #my writing

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hotchocolatewriting · 2 years

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hi! i’m a fan of your writing and wanted to know if you could perhaps write a story about a villain discovering that their lover is a hero working undercover and the hero being scared of what they’re going to do to them? and maybe the villain still being in love with them and not intending to hurt them?

I did write one like this before and you can find it here But I wanted to try again and it became long! TW: killing mention, knives and blood Villain came home after a long day of work. Even longer than normal, since they had been dreading going home. The night had long fallen and stars were already shimmering at the dark night sky when they finally opened the door into their house. The lights were on and a delicious smell pulled them towards the kitchen where Hero was working on a late night deepfreeze pizza. Villain didn’t expect anything different from them. Hero could eat at the most ridiculous times. It had been something they knew about them, something they learned through the year among other things and it had felt like they knew everything about them. The truth was that that wasn’t true. The sad reality was that they didn’t know a single thing about the person standing in front of them and it made Villain's heart ache. “Hey, Villain, you’re late today,” Hero said, smiling brightly. That smile soon disappeared when they turned around, finding nothing but anger and hurt on Villain’s face. “What’s wrong?” they asked.

Villain shuffled on their feet, not sure how to start about something so vulnerable and painful. Something that tore their heart out from the inside. Looking at Hero and only seeing someone they cared deeply for only made it worse. “How long did you think you could keep this up?” Villain asked. Hero stayed quiet for a moment, the frown in their forehead growing, giving away the confusion they must be feeling. “Did you not think for even a second that this would hurt me? That I am a human too, just like you?” Villain approached slowly, cornering Hero between them and the counter, like a cat that cornered their prey. Hero looked at them, walking back and pressing themselves against the counter, a small shimmer of fear shot through their eyes. “You know fully well what I’m talking about, [Hero’s superhero name].” Hero swallowed, pressing themselves even further against the counter. "Please let me go," they whispered. "Please don't hurt me." They tried to shield themselves from Villain and it made their heart sink. All the hope they had left for it to be nothing more than a horrible mistake, was lost. "You know how hard it is for me to trust someone, how long it takes? You know I am terrified of new relationships, but you came to this point so easily and now you do this?"

Villain raised their hand, hoping to calm Hero down, get their hands away from their face, but instead Hero flinched badly. Their eyes shot towards the door, desperately looking for a way out. A way to escape from the villain standing in front of them. Getting away from a potential threat, running away from pain. “All this time,” Villain said, lowering their hand again, not wanting to scare Hero any further than they already had. “Why did you never tell me?! You know who I am, you could have told me. I would have understood.” Their voice was unsteady, but Hero didn’t seem to notice. They still tried to find a way out, slowly setting a step aside, only for Villain to grab their wrist and make them look. “Listen to me," Villain demanded, almost angrily, tears shimmering in their eyes. "What did you think to achieve with this?” Villain took another step closer, almost standing against Hero. “Surely you’re not that kind of hero, are you? You wouldn’t just make me love you so you could use me, would you? You surely don’t believe I am that bad after a whole year together, right?” Suddenly Hero pulled a knife from the counter behind them and pointed it at Villain. “Step away from me and let me go!” Villain’s eyes grew wide and they clenched their fists to prevent the tears from coming up even further and betraying how they felt. “Are you really going to hurt me, babe? Only because I know who you really are?” Hero held the knife, knuckles white from holding it so stiff, pointing it to Villain’s chest with a shaking hand. “I will do what I have to, to survive,” Hero said. “I won’t end up like all those other people.” Their eyes were big with fear and Villain could tell there was nothing they wanted more than to get away from here. To get away from them. In their head a villain would always be a villain. A treat, something to wipe this city clean of, nothing more than that. All Villain could do was stare. Stare at the person they once thought they knew everything about. The love of their life who turned out to be nothing more than a stranger after more than a year of being together. Their chest started to burn and Villain held their breath to try and keep the feelings down. They had cried at Hero’s shoulders countless times, shared all of their fears, their insecurities and nightmares. Hero knew everything about them, about the mess they actually were. Villain trusted Hero with all of their being, but right now they couldn’t let it out. Not anymore, not in front of Hero, the person that they entrusted their heart to only to get it back like it had been chewed on and spat out. Their lip weavered and their eyes burned, but Villain refused to step away. “Do you hate me that much?” They asked, their voice shaking with emotion that they tried to keep inside. The same way Hero had all the time. Now that Villain thought about it, Hero had never shared their own fears, they had never seen Hero cry before. Villain used to think it was because Hero just didn’t have anything that upset them like it did with Villain, but now that they knew the secret their lover had been holding behind their back, Villain couldn’t help but doubt. “You’re gonna hurt me, aren’t you?” Hero asked, raising the knife to Villain’s throat. “You hurt everyone that gets in your way. Why.. Why would I be different?” Their voice was shaking too now, just like their hand holding the knife. It pricked into Villain’s throat and soon they felt the warm blood running down. It was nothing compared to the betrayal they felt, making them want to rip their own heart out to make it stop. “Hero,” Villain whispered. “Please lower the knife.” They raised their hands to give their words more power. “Please.” They whispered again. “I don’t care that you’re a hero.” Hero looked them in the eyes, staring at them with a face of steel, hiding every emotion they could have been feeling in that split second. They didn’t trust them, Villain realised, they never had. Would they even feel anything towards them at all? Villain let out a shaky breath, fully aware of the knife

that was held to their throat. “I could never hurt you,” they whispered. “I thought you knew that.” Villain had to fight even harder to keep their tears in as they were talking. They couldn’t help them from filling their eyes and eventually slipping. “Why can’t I just have something nice for once?” Villain asked quietly. “Do you even love me the way I love you?” The cold metal shook against their throat and Hero looked away when they finally lowered it. “I don’t, you’re a cold blooded killer.” It came out so easily that Villain was taken off guard. Their eyes filled with tears to the point they couldn’t see. They stumbled back, letting themselves slide down to the ground against the fridge. Hero let out a relieved sigh now that Villain had backed off, their body visibly shaking from adrenaline. They didn’t let go of the knife in their hand and didn’t let their guard down as they watched Villain. Their instincts told them to get away as soon as they could, but seeing Villain sitting their so.. broken.. shattered. It was nothing, really, to be scared of. Still, they couldn’t lower their quick breathing, every nerve in their body telling them to get away, to do something instead of just standing there looking at a potential bomb that was about to explode. “I should have known that it was too good to be true,” Villain mumbled. “I can’t have anything nice. I shouldn’t have trusted you.” They grabbed their head in their hands and growled. “Dammit I should have known better!” they screamed, crying out loud by now. Hero reached out, but this time it was Villain who shook them away. Slowly they got back to their feet, which caused Hero to take a few steps away from them, making sure they wouldn’t be stuck between Villain and the counter again. “Get out,” Villain mumbled. Hero stared at them. Seeing them in so much pain alway made things different. It made them want to reach out, make it better. But they didn’t have the right. Not now, not ever, because they never really cared about the person that cared way too much about them. Just a hero doing their job. Never a lover, never a friend. “Get out!” Villain screamed, throwing everything off the counter. Glass shattered to pieces and everything else fell beside it on the ground, leaving a mess of pizza remains and sharp glass. “Can’t you hear me?!” Villain screamed. “Get out before I actually accidentally hurt you, I am that bad, right?! Go to your boss or whoever you work for!” “Villain, I..” Villain pushed them back and Hero reached out again only for Villain to knock their hand away again. “If you wanted to say anything you should have done it sooner,” Villain snapped. “I would have understood, I would have had someone that understood how hard this life could be, because in my opinion heroes and villains aren’t that different. But you just proved me wrong. It makes me think who really is the real villain here, playing around with feelings like that.” They shook their head. “I’m not just a broken pup to be fixed after you made it cry.” They opened the door for Hero. “Go, Hero and don’t come back, my trust isn’t something to be easily fixed even though I love you.” Villain said, looking away from them. “I can’t handle that look in your eyes.”

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villainsandcivilians · 2 years

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Could you write a prompt where the civilian discovers the villains identity and the fact that they’re pregnant simultaneously and they decide to run away and the villain ends up finding them and they get to meet their child

Sure! I have to be honest this type of thing isn’t something I usually write, but I tried my best!

Just a reminder this is not a prompt and requests are open!

**Warnings; none really? Lying about identity

Masterlist

Civilian sighed contentedly, her eyes gently slipping closed as she leaned further into Lover’s warm embrace. His kitchen slowly disappeared around her as he started to sway just a little to the music quietly playing in the background. With his arms locked around her shoulders and waist, she felt like everything was right in the world. She knew she was safe, that no one could harm her. That had been almost two years ago.

Civilian sighed as she ran a hand over her face, trying to scrub the memory from her mind. Villain had lied to her for five years, since the moment she met him – he wasn’t the man who would hold her gently and softly lull her to sleep in his arms. He was a killer, a ruthless, vicious criminal who should by all rights be in prison. Something that stung her almost as deep as the betrayal was that she hadn’t realised. Villain didn’t even go around wearing a mask or a flashy costume like Hero, yet she’d fallen for his charms and genuinely believed he cared for her. She swallowed hard against the little whisper of maybe he did truly care for me, because why would he? Equally though, she supposed, why would he be willing to marry her?

Civilian could see that night as clearly as she could the room around her. She had discovered she was pregnant and had been overjoyed to tell Lover. She had even called him up on the night before the wedding, wanting desperately to talk to him; only to hear another voice in the background address him as Villain, not Lover. Her world had crumbled around her and he hadn’t even had a chance to say anything. He tried to cover it up, saying that his brother was only talking about something he had seen about Villain on the news, but it was too late. Civilian didn’t tell him she was pregnant, and she swore to herself in that moment that her child would not be dragged into a world of crime because of him. She had packed her things and left without another word.

Cries from the next room jolted Civilian back to reality and she blinked a few times to clear her mind. She stepped through a low doorway prepared to comfort her child, only to stop dead in her tracks. The window was open, curtains lightly blowing into the room, and in front of them stood Villain. He stayed still, posture relaxed and head slightly lowered as he gave what appeared to be the sincerest look of apology he could manage. She knew it was a lie – it had to be. Without thinking, she launched herself forward and planted her body firmly between him and her daughter, every muscle tensed and willing to do anything to protect her little girl. Villain didn’t flinch.

“I know,” he murmured quietly, “and I’m sorry. I’m not here to hurt you – either of you. I just wanted to see-”

“Get out.” Civilian’s low voice tore roughly form her throat and she saw more than heard Villain take a breath.

“I just want to talk to you.”

There was that nagging feeling in the back of her mind again – what if, what if – and for a reason she didn’t quite understand, she agreed. But in the kitchen, away from her daughter. She wondered if the soft yet sorrowful look Villain gave the girl as he walked past was feigned too.

Villain himself simply wanted things back the way they were. He itched to take Civilian into his arms, to hold his daughter and to have them leave what he considered little more than a hideout behind for his life of luxury in central City. But Civilian was livid at him, and worse still scared of him and at this rate he knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere. He had to consider himself at least a little bit lucky though – true to her word, Civilian talked to him for a good half an hour, right up until their daughter started crying in a way that Civilian knew meant she didn’t want to be alone. Villain held his hands up, swore on his own life he would never hurt either of them and in the end she let him come back into the other room. Civilian stood rigidly with their daughter held securely across her chest, but let Villain stand just a little bit closer.

“She’s beautiful,” he breathed, and at the awed look in his eye, Civilian wavered. He didn’t move, but she took a tentative step closer to him, watching every subtle cue she could read. He raised his eyes to hers and something caught in her chest at how vulnerable he looked. Steeling herself and holding her daughter tighter still, she walked up to Villain and rested her head on his shoulder like she always used to, this time curled protectively over their little girl as well. She felt his chest heave as his breathing hitched and then agonisingly slowly, as if thinking that a sudden movement would frighten her away for good, Villain let his arms come to rest on Civilian’s shoulders. This rift would take a long time to heal, they both knew, but maybe this was a start.

Tag list - @booberryfun @artshit208 @talkingsperm @writing-on-the-wahl

#villain #villain x civilian #villain and civilian #civilian #civilians #villains and civilians #Villains #Heroes and Villains #original writing #writing snippet #not a prompt #writing #creative writing #fiction #original fiction #snippet

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epiclamer · 3 years

Text

Sorry guys, I can’t go out today I’m too busy writing fantasies for random people :)

(No reposts but reblogs appreciated <3)

Cw: conditioned whumpee, expecting pain, I think that’s it.

@equestrianwritingsstuff

@michelleswhumpyreblogs

@val-reblogs-stuff

@wolfeyedwitch

@elizabeth-ithink

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

Consequences Pt.5

Villain blinked awake softly as their face was hit with a blinding light. They squirmed under the soothing feel of warmth and pressure, letting themselves adjust to the comfort before opening their eyes completely. The sight of a bed and their legs entangled in the sheets frightened Villain awake.

Bolting upright Villain was greeted with Hero’s exhausted and limp form, collapsed in an arm chair that was pushed tight to the beds side. Villain let out a shaky breath. They hadn’t waken them. Thank god.

Villain slipped themselves out from under the covers. Landing shakily on their hands and knees against the hardwood floor. It creaked softly as they attempted to crawl their way to the open door. Supervillain was coming. They knew it. They were going to punish them. They were going to be helped. They needed fixing. Supervillain would fix them.

They padded closer and closer to the door, to their safety. If they could just make it a little bit farther, they could alert Supervillain and Supervillain could save them from the evil clutches of the heroes-

“Where do you think you’re going?” Hero’s hand grabbed onto the collar on Villains shirt, effectively stopping them in their tracks. Villain screeched and wriggled themselves against Hero’s firm hold on their collar. A futile attempt at escape.

“LETMEGOLETMEGOLETMEGO!” Villain screamed, twisting and shaking against the floor as Hero flipped them over and pressed a reassuring hand on Villains chest.

Hero shushed them quietly and attempted to wrap them in a comforting embrace. “Hey hey hey… Calm down, Villain. It’s going to be okay… Can you tell me why you’re so scared?” Hero asked, to be honest, it had been a question pestering their mind ever since they found them, but they merely assumed it was because Villain was a villain and Hero was a hero.

Villains squirming stopped and their gaze faltered as it fell from Hero’s eyes to the floor beside their head. Villains lips quivered slightly and their lack of guard allowed Hero to scoop them up into their arms, holding them delicately.

Villain took another deep breath, squeezing their eyes tight as they quickly mumbled out something inaudible.

“Hm?” Hero cooed, tilting their head to the side to seem less intimidating to their terrified villain. Another deep breath and Villain was quickly rambling again. Only certain words like: heroes, Supervillain and hurt, made their way to Hero’s ears no matter their close proximity.

“I need you to speak up, please.” Hero pushed, their patience already run dry but they needed to stay calm for Villain. Villain dropped their head, finally raising their voice.

“S-Supervillain says the heroes are g-going to hurt m-me.” Villain stuttered, prying one eye open to see Hero’s expression through their bowed position.

Hero didn’t look mad, or disappointed, or angry or even upset. Hero looked sad. Hero looked pitiful.

“‘M sorry…” Villain whispered, but Hero only pulled them flush against their chest. Carding a hand through their hair as they pressed their lips into the top of Villains head.

After a moment Hero pulled Villain away, tilting their chin up to look Villain dead in the eyes.

“I would never hurt you.”

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raifenlf · 3 years

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Why Loki’s Sylvie Is A Mary Sue

So I am firmly in the camp that Sylvie on the Loki series was/is a Mary Sue. The last episode made me feel better and like maybe the show was doing a thing where they were faking you out that she was a Mary Sue only to show she was actually sort of a bad guy and I liked that. But all the recent interviews make me think the show wants to go back to her being a Mary Sue.

But I feel like when I call her out for being a Mary Sue people tell me what are you talking about, she’s not a Mary Sue, bad things happen to her, etc. But that doesn’t actually make her not a Mary Sue.

Also, before we start, I know some people find Mary Sue sexist. But I personally use the term for guys and girls. I don’t use the term to belittle women. I use the term to criticize a poorly written character.

And I know Mary Sue is often used to describe fanfic characters. But to me, this series is kind of like a fanfic because the writers took a character who had been in canon MCU material for ten years and then created characters around that character. So, I kind of review it like I would a fanfic. It’s very different than if the writers had created a brand new show with all of their own new characters.

Anyway, if you are not totally familiar with the Mary Sue term, then check this out:

I know the term Mary Sue probably means different things to different people. But I have always used these guidelines when I write my own fanfic to make sure my characters never come off as a Mary Sue.

This article really gives you a full scale of what a Mary Sue is. If you start reading it, you’ll immediately see why Sylvie is. But I’m going to take out the parts that most fit Sylvie just to highlight why I believe she is a Mary Sue. I apologize for this being so long.

Mary Sue Character Traits

Personality

Erm... what personality? The typical Mary Sue doesn't have one per se, because she isn't meant to be a character; rather, she's an entity by which the author makes cool stuff happen.

I feel like that is Sylvie in a nutshell. She doesn’t have a personality. I feel like even though she ate screentime, I still don’t really know her at all. The writers love to say she’s badass. That’s not a personality.

Sometimes when I am writing stories for fun and creating new characters, I like to take surveys as my fictional characters. Like the kind of surveys you’d see in a magazine, like personality types, what’s your dating style, etc. I figure if I don’t know what my character would do in any of those situations, then I need to keep working on my character. And if I was trying to fill out a survey pretending I was Sylvie I would have no idea what to answer because she doesn’t have a personality. She’s just “cool”.

What little personality a Mary Sue has isn't as important as how other characters react to it. No matter how shy or socially awkward Mary Sue is supposed to be, other characters will be inexplicably drawn to her

This is so Sylvie. Loki falls in love with her...why, exactly? He falls in love with her in the big Nexus event moment...why? Because she had a tough childhood? Mobius spends like two seconds with her in a car and goes from hating her to saying she’s his favorite Loki. For. No. Particular. Reason.

She's extremely persuasive; everyone finds her opinions to be better than their own

She enchants Hunter B-15 and then immediately Hunter B-15 makes it her whole entire life mission to back Sylvie up.

And occasionally she'll be a complete asshole...This can manifest itself in several ways...The author wants to write a badass but doesn't know how. This leads to a character who mistreats everyone around her and is never called out on her abrasive, casually abusive behavior.

Sylvie talked down to Loki and treated him like garbage for all of episode three, but it was never portrayed as a bad thing and we never got any impression Sylvie later felt bad for the way she treated Loki

The author doesn't know how to hold back the character, meaning that she will succeed at practically everything. This means that when she encounters rules or authority figures who would otherwise prevent her from doing what she wants to do, she rolls right through them (and they praise her for her "boldness" in defying regulations). If a bad guy is violent and aggressive, she can beat him by being more violent and aggressive (with all that entails). It's impossible for her to go overboard because she's protected by Protagonist-Centered Morality.

Sylvie is shown as a kid to immediately be able to grab a Tempad and run away. And she can kick ass way better than Loki, for no known reason. She is always able to fight back against the TVA when they attack her. And she can kill lots of innocent TVA agents but it’s okay because TVA bad, Sylvie good.

Skills

She will always be superior to the canon characters, regardless of what canon has established they can do or whether it makes any sense.

Whose skill was needed to defeat Alioth? Sylvie’s. Of course. Sylvie needed to teach Loki her skills in order for him to succeed (!). And again, she is literally called the superior Loki.

Relatedly, there's no effort to her skills. She never actually trains or learns anything to become more powerful; she just wins the Super Power Lottery, or is a freakish natural learner, or is just Inexplicably Awesome

We’re told Sylvie literally taught herself magic. She literally taught herself to enchant people. That. Makes. No. Sense. Like, I have so many questions. Like, why would it even occur to her to teach herself that? And how???????????? This is really lazy writing.

Canon Character Relationships

Mary Sue is often designed to hook up with another character, often as a form of Wish Fulfillment. This isn't that bad in and of itself (okay, it is kinda weird), but Mary Sue accomplishes this without any sense of realism. She just grabs her lover's attention straight away, and their relationship will never face any obstacles or tension; it's true love from the start and nothing else. The biggest giveaway is if the love interest is explicitly the author's favorite character, and she essentially "cures" him of all the angst that ails him (at the expense of his characterization).

Yeah, so...this one should be pretty obvious to anyone who watched the show. Loki literally falls in love with Sylvie immediately, and then he suddenly turns from “villain” to “hero” just because of loving her. And this was definitely at the expense of his characterization. And Loki just knows he falls in love with her. There’s not even any moments of hmm what do I feel for this person? It’s just true love, immediately.

She will be related to a canon character in some way. This (marginally) helps explain such phenomena as her being a Copy Cat Sue and other characters accepting her so easily.

Sylvie is a Loki variant. They use this to help explain why Loki is drawn to her and why their falling in love immediately “makes sense”.

Most characters give her more heed than they normally would. The good guys never stop praising her

Seriously, it was so over the top and OOC for Loki to gush over her. He literally tells her she’s amazing. They don’t even make it subtle.

Characters' previously established personalities change in reaction to her. Proud, arrogant gimps suddenly acknowledge her superiority in everything. Reckless youths will listen to all her advice. Responsible leaders will defer to her instead. Villains will obsess with her to the detriment of all else. Extremely competent characters will become stumbling buffoons who require her help to do anything. Sweet, mild-mannered characters whom the author doesn't like turn evil and insult her. They all become unnaturally focused on her in some way.

Again, Loki’s whole personality changed in reaction to her. He became a buffoon who needed her help to enchant the Alioth because of course he couldn’t do anything without her! Hunter B-15 goes from doing whatever the TVA said to fighting the TVA just because of Sylvie.

Story Elements

Mary Sue is without exception a single-person Spotlight-Stealing Squad. The entire story hinges on her existence; if you removed her, there would be no story.

Sylvie undoubtedly drove the whole story this season. It all became about HER meeting the TVA heads because of HER trauma. Loki’s life was only saved at the beginning because the TVA was trying to capture HER. And SHE was the one who started the whole multiverse (!).

Mary Sue is The Chosen One, even if the setting already has one. There are many ways she can accomplish this: she can be a Sailor Earth type who "shares" the position with the canon hero; she may be vaguely "destined to help the destined one fulfill their destiny" (i.e. do all the work except the final blow so that the prophecy is still technically correct); or the canon hero may be revealed to be a Fake Ultimate Hero all along. Being the Chosen One doesn't necessarily involve her being a God-Mode Sue, especially as authors become aware of the phenomenon and try to avoid it, but it does make her critically important to the world and allows her to continue stealing the spotlight without the "god mode" label.

HWR wanted Sylvie to come with Loki in the end, like she was chosen all along right alongside Loki. Like one of the most important characters in the entire MCU is now this character who we only met a few episodes ago.

Most Sues have an unusually Dark and Troubled Past. It's often used to create a Sympathetic Sue, but any type of Sue can have one

They tell us, over and over, how hard Sylvie’s life was because she was kidnapped by the TVA in order to create sympathy for her.

She almost never does anything wrong. In the rare instance that she does, it's usually; (a) a way for the author to disclaim her being a Mary Sue by introducing a single imperfection (that has no bearing on anything anyway), and (b) designed to show her smarts by making her feel instant remorse, and she'll be Easily Forgiven anyway:

So this one hopefully will not come true, as a lot can change between now and when the show is taped. But if the show goes on the way the behind the scenes team is talking, Sylvie immediately felt remorse for betraying Loki, and Loki has already forgiven her and is desperately looking for her. Ugh.

Alternatively, she is more than capable of doing something wrong, be it in general moral terms or something that goes against whatever code she abides by, and she maybe even frequently does so, but don't expect the other characters or the narrative to ever acknowledge or comment on it in any real capacity. If the other characters do call her out, expect them to be treated like they're the problem for daring to criticize her at all.

Mobius calls her out for killing people, but Sylvie immediately says he’s a bad person and then Mobius agrees, because, of course.

She will often suffer from Special Snowflake Syndrome; i.e., she has a trait or backstory that sets her apart from her group or race.

She is the only female Loki, thus making her the special one among all the Lokis in episode five.

Presentation

In visual media, the camera just can't stop staring at her.

The camera would follow her in fight scenes rather than Loki.

Mary Sue Tropes

Okay, so there are specific Mary Sue tropes that Sylvie is. One of those is Copy Cat Sue, which I think was referenced before.

Copy Cat Sue

A lot of fanfic writers...start to write something because of their passion for this character, but they find something about the character that doesn't mesh well. Maybe they're the wrong gender or are otherwise not close enough to the author's expectations...In any case, rather than put them through the Possession Sue process, they just get a Clone-O-Matic™ and out pops a Copy Cat Sue...the character might be intended as a replacement for the canon character, but without whatever icky traits the author hates. They'll then rob the spotlight, prove the canon character to be unworthy of his/her position, and either relegate the character to obsolescence or, perhaps, even remove them entirely.

Sylvie is basically a clone of Loki, she is a variant. But she absolutely robbed the spotlight of Loki’s, and they literally call her the superior Loki. I mean, they are literally not even being subtle about this. And there was a feeling by myself (and a lot of other viewers) that Sylvie might ultimately replace Loki in the MCU.

Black Hole Sue

Much like a black hole, this is a Mary Sue who "sucks in" the plot and characters to her. Characters will behave outside their personalities, logic will be defied, and rules will be broken for her sake.

Sylvie really does suck up all the plot and Loki definitely behaves outside of his personality just to fit the Sylvie show.

Jerk Sue

A Mary Sue who is mean or maybe even cruel, but are still treated as an ideal person.

Once again, Sylvie is basically a jerk all of episode three, but you’ve got Loki falling over himself to call her amazing in just the next episode.

Relationship Sue

A Mary Sue who exists to be the perfect mate for a specific character...this character has everything in the plot conspiring to enforce this One True Pairing...in Fanfiction, they are the perfect beloved of a canon character.

They literally have Mobius speculate that Loki falling in love with Sylvie is so extraordinary that it causes an entire Nexus event, that’s how huge this One True Pairing is (!). And Sylvie is the love interest of Loki, the only character who had been around before the beginning of the series

TLDR: Sylvie has all the tropes of a classic Mary Sue character. So calling Sylvie a Mary Sue isn’t being sexist or just randomly hating on the character. If you use common Mary Sue characteristics to examine the character, she just has too many of these characteristics to ignore.

#loki negativity #antisylvie #loki critical #loki criticism #antisylkie

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