#I was literally so fucking civil to her. What would a decent fucking person do

[chasingfictions]

I’ve just finished yellowjackets and I went through your tag bc what else am I going to do but consume all the backdated content I can and I need to know the backstory on the comment that Callie probably isn’t pit girl?? Also what do you think happens with shaunas wilderness baby I can’t stop thinking about it

omg hi hi hi hello

the callie is pit girl theory i think got debunked by the creators (though tbh like, it's a mystery show and we shouldnt necessarily take anything they say in interviews as gospel). but i do think it's not her, in that i do think that the pilot cold open does take place in the '96 timeline, as opposed to a red herring of it actually being in the present day. like, i think cool as it would be as a gotcha, ultimately, opening with them in the depths of their despair and desolation and wilderness and bloodthirst and working out from that in two directions of the timeline will always be the most powerful way to interpret that cold open.

that SAID i do think that there's a decent likelihood that the cult takes an interest in callie in some form...

which kind of segues into my wilderness baby theories???? basically like!!! fertilization taking full effect takes a few days, right? which is to say that the first time the fetus really enters into existence, they're already in the wilderness. it's already post-crash. there's lottie's line that "it's in you already" during blood hive. considering these insane posts from @smellingwormholes my beloved, that feels like the Thing in the Forest, you know? like, it, as in The Entity, is Literally In Her, in that the fetus is literally in her. also the fact that like, the Spirit seems to fully take hold of them during doomcoming, and like if shauna is taking the magic cursed forest shrooms, so is the fetus, you know?

i'm not positive whether the kid will live or not -- logically it seems unlikely, but also like, a lot of the way healing works on this show -- ben's leg not getting horribly infected, van's face healing as well as it did -- feels like maybe something else is helping them along? the buffering patreon podcast on yellowjackets talked about a theory that what if the forest is keeping them alive, you know? what if it wants them to live so it can kill them off later? which is to say whether or not the wilderness baby survives childbirth, and whether they live long past that, whether they're still alive in the 2021 timeline, that baby belongs to the forest in some sense.

which kind of goes back to the callie thing. the wilderness baby as a child that shauna feels doesnt really belong to her. it's the baby that she associates with starvation and despair. it's the baby that, probably in her eyes, led to jackie's death. it's the baby that belongs to the forest and the blood cult. there's something about shauna coming back to civilization and trying to live in a shell of what she imagined jackie's life would be, creating a mausoleum to jackie in her own home, her own body. there's something about her naming her daugher callie. one letter onto the girl who didn't get on the plane. having another child with the person she imagined jackie would have stayed with. like, callie in a sense, in shauna's mind, being jackie's baby. the baby jackie would have had if she'd lived.

when, of course, callie is so deeply shauna's child. kldsfjkf one of the reasons i love callie is she has shauna's bitchiness with jeff's confidence and it makes her an unstoppable monster and i think that's fucking cool of her i love her so much callie u've never done anything wrong in ur life babygirl!!!!!!!!! but like, shauna having a child thinking it's saving her from who she is, thinking it can make her more like someone who didnt grow up to be this. when in fact her child is just like her, and her child also is forcing her to look at her trauma head-on -- the jackie-jeff scene mirroring the shauna masturbation scene. callie not taking the chuck out of the freezer being what takes us in the present timeline into shauna's butchery skills. callie telling shauna youre so not fine. you think i can't see that? i feel crazy about it!!!

but anyway like, i think the tangled web of shauna's children both belonging and not belonging to her, the cult mentality of "you took something that didn't belong to you" re: jackie and travis, jackie dying as a first sacrifice, allie's leg breaking as a first sacrifice, callie being linked in the potential energy and wistfulness of what-ifs to both allie and jackie. even just, callie being shauna's daughter, her heir in a sense, and my personal theory that shauna was very high up in the cult structure . it just makes sense to me that the cult will come for callie at some point, try to draw her in.

like, i don't think callie is the cold open pit girl. but i don't think that'll stop someone from trying to make her a pit girl one day.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets meta #ask #callie sadecki

[eternal-armin]

lil blood.

vi begrudgingly seeks your assistance on her search for silco's location in the lanes. even though you were once enemies, you worked together- the fight just ended with you in tears, and her offering you comfort. enemies to friends to lovers because... why not cw: a good amount of cursing, light descriptions of blood and gore, hints at reader's traumatic past, hints at a past of a bully vi, one very light mention of sex.

your gloved fingers pinched the bridge of your nose. "i can't fucking believe i'm saddled with you for this shit. why did you choose me for this and not that piltie... girl you were with?"

"i know the lanes, but not as well as you do. she doesn't know them at all. plus, you're the only half-decent fighter down here silco hasn't gotten to." vi responded. she sounded annoyed that she had to say anything civil or complimentary to or about you.

as much as you would love to thank her for her words, you couldn't help yourself. "wow, violet. i haven't heard you praise anyone in literal years." you replied, voice as saccharine as you could make it, pairing it with a similar grin. "seems you lost that charm about you."

"fuck's sake- like you would know anything about charm. tell me again, who's the last person you ever fucked?"

you stuck your tongue out at her, flipping her off. "i don't need people railing me to know i'm more charming than you are. anyway, are we gonna get this bitch, or do i have to keep listening to your nauseating voice for another ten minutes?" you crossed your arms, tilting your head at her.

vi scowled. you could just see in her eyes that she wanted to toss one back again. "fine, whatever. i don't wanna stay in your presence any longer than i have to."

"finally," you groaned.

"shut. the fuck. up."

you could admit that vi was a better fighter than you were; you weren't as prideful as some would believe you to be. so imagine your surprise when she showed up at your place, banging on the door, impatient as ever. begging- asking- demanding that you fight someone with her. having the balls to tell you to leave your safe space and fight by her side? oh, how satisfying it would've been to slam the door in her face and tell her to shove it.

but you... thirsted for revenge yourself.

so here you were, beating a bodyguard into a small brown stain while vi tried to extract info from the main person you were after.

"he wasn't there!" vi delivered a hearty punch to the lady's cheek. she held the woman up by her collar, nearly choking her out. "where the hell is silco! tell me, and i might let you live. don't tell me, and you'll end up like your friends over there. so spill!"

you reeled back your kick once, twice more, digging into his side, each one ending with a resounding crack from his ribs. you only stopped when you were tired, when your leg ached, stumbling back from his body.

"he moved nearly halfway across the lanes. how did you not already know?" she choked out, her weak voice half sarcastic.

"i need a specific place, damnit. this is your last fucking warning."

all of a sudden you snapped back to reality. it felt like a switch was flipped. you could feel the crisp, heavy air in your lungs, the sweat on your skin, the clothes on your body, the blood that had been splattered on you. you could see the alleyway you had hesitantly followed vi into.

worst of all, you could see the mess of gore you had left that bodyguard in.

"god, finally," vi muttered.

the woman landed with a thud on the ground, gasping for air. "now get the hell away from me!" vi shouted. and ma'am did as told, running back to her unlit abode.

even though your awareness had come back, you couldn't move. your stomach churned with nausea. it had been so long since you were confronted with things of... this nature. you'd been lucky enough to avoid it for so long, and now, all of a sudden, it was thrust back into your face with paralyzing guilt to boot.

"[y/n]."

you remained silent. vi scoffed.

"what? you're tellin' me you're scared of a little blood?" she sounded like she was on the verge of laughing, pushing your shoulder. the ability to move finally returned to you, and you looked up at her with a shaken expression.

her amused expression instantly turned to shock. you looked like you just saw someone kill your parents. your eyes were wide and scared, jittering with disbelief. your lower lip trembled, trying to form any words, but lacking the strength. more than anything, you looked grievously overwhelmed by something that rocked you to your core. vi had never seen you like this- vi had never seen you sporting an expression even close.

"holy shit. what the hell happened? did he say something to you?" what the hell could he have possibly said to make you react like this?

"i... i'm gonna go home." your voice was quiet. hollow. out of everyone, why did you have to react so strongly to this memory of your past life? every single terrifying memory, every bad fight, every horrible injury hit you like a 20-foot wave. the state of your family flashed in and out of your vision until you felt dizzy.

you took a step away from the body, feeling relieved that it was even out of your vision. but vi's hand clapped down on your shoulder, pulling you back to her.

"vi, i'm really not in the fucking mood right now." you tried to sound intimidating. what was supposed to be a hiss came out as a tremble.

"fine, we can walk," vi compromised, walking slowly by your side. "what the hell happened to you? why did that mess with you so much?"

"you've been gone for years. shit's gonna change."

"yeah, i'm getting that. i just wanna know what- what happened? you used to be like a silco on our side. sure, we never got along, but i knew that you were a damn good fighter. what changed?"

"a whole fucking lot. with vander gone, and you gone, everything was thrown out of balance. my folks were killed in front of me for some low bounty they didn't have the money for. and i had to kill just to survive. and i regretted every single time i had to do that. and for a few years after that everything was... kind of peaceful." your eyes filled with tears, and you just let them fall down your dirty, red-stained cheeks. you hadn't expected to monologue, but it felt... nice. "and then you just decided to come back. come back and fuck me over again like you always used to. so get your damn hand off me and let me go back and hide in my apartment."

"you- you didn't have to come with me, [y/n]. i had no clue about any of that." vi's voice had softened just a little. it was almost comforting, but the quivering scowl on your lips remained.

"you didn't make it sound like i had a choice."

vi took a breath as if to speak, before sighing quietly. "i'm sorry."

"sure."

"i'm being sincere, here, damnit. i'm sorry that i fucked things for you tonight, i'm sorry that i forced you to come with me. i'm sorry for all the bullshit i've said in the past, okay?"

you furrowed your brow slightly, but otherwise, you almost relaxed. "i... apology accepted. i'm sorry too. for... the shit i said. and being a bit of a dickhead of a kid," you added the last part with a little chuckle. it felt heavy, but it was better than nothing.

"you were a dickhead of a kid," vi mumbled, laughing along with you.

"oh, you're one to talk." you laughed a little harder. even though vi feigned offense at first, she laughed harder too. it felt strange to forge any sense of camaraderie with someone you could've considered an enemy. but she knew exactly- or almost exactly- what you were feeling, and right now, you had no one else.

the door to your apartment now looked more lonely than before. you hesitated to open it, even though you craved the comfort of your surplus of blankets.

"you sure you wanna be alone after that?"

"it was a... small thing. i'll be fine."

no, you wouldn't.

"it doesn't matter if it was a 'small thing.' you looked scared half to death, that's enough to warrant some support."

"from you? i'll pass." it was another kneejerk reaction, but you refused to believe that vi wasn't just making another joke out of you. after years of being at each other's throats, she's just all of a sudden gonna be nice to you because you had one tough night near her? bullshit.

"whether you like it or not, you need support. i couldn't get it, so i'll give it." vi's voice was perfectly confident- even if you tried, you couldn't change her mind.

admittedly, you smiled a little. "you're not just... making fun of me?"

"well, usually i am. not this time. get the hell in there." vi raised her brows at you until you opened the door. both of you were greeted by the sweet smell of incense, a welcome divergence from the stale odor of the lanes. you stepped inside, kicking off your shoes at the door. vi followed suit, much to your surprise.

"i thought it would be a lot messier, in all honesty," she commented. people down here don't really take much care of their living areas. made sense, since you were essentially a hermit now.

back, surrounded by things your parents had given you, surrounded by all the memories you associated with your old life, you just stood in the midst of it all. tears once again stung at your eyes, taunting you more with every passing second. you sniffled, pressing your lips together, which twitched into a frown.

dear lord don't let you break down in front of vi.

"[y/n]?" vi asked, quietly, leaning forward a bit to peek at your face. for a second, all she could see was you a few years back. back when you were both kids. after every injury, you cried like this when you thought no one could see. she used to make fun of it. gently, she placed her hands on your shoulders.

"hey, hey. it's okay. you can cry."

you still tried to hold back your tears, the second wave of everything crashing down on you. she traced her thumbs back and forth on your clothed shoulders, and somehow, that was what made you break down in loud sobs. resting your head against her upper chest, you let yourself cry for the first time in years. she wrapped her arms around you tightly.

you didn't know how to feel. for the first time in forever, you finally allowed yourself to be emotionally vulnerable. just... it was with someone you used to call your rival.

but her touch was so gentle and caring. you wanted to cry, if it meant she would be there to comfort you.

"i-i'm- i'm so sorry about this," you managed through hiccups and sobs. you found yourself holding onto her tightly.

she didn't laugh at you like she used to. "don't apologize. you don't need to. i get it. cry as long as you need to."

"y-your shirt's gonna-" hic "-gonna get wet."

vi chuckled. "like i care. i don't mind a wet shirt. once again, cry as long as you need to, idiot."

through your cries, you laughed a little. but that smile quickly disappeared, drowning in tears.

#vi arcane #arcane netflix #arcane #violet arcane #vi x gender neutral reader #viktor arcane #vi x y/n #vi x gn reader #vi x reader #vi x you #arcane imagines #arcane fanfic #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #arcane x reader #arcane x gn reader #arcane x female reader #arcane x male reader #vi x male reader #enemies to friends to lovers #vi enemies to lovers

[feralhogs]

.

#Vent vent #Chatty #And its the most aggravating that she uses all the moral sounding arguments that totally do not apply! Like calling stuff toxic #I was literally so fucking civil to her. What would a decent fucking person do? #Oh shit. What did i do? Can i fix the problem? Are you okay? Nope. We go right to the blowup #I know theyre all fucking symptoms or whatever i literally do not care at this point. Theyre her symptoms not mine! #Why should I pay the price? #And there goes all my patience loyalty forgiveness understanding therapisting momming from the year I roomed with her #I did nothing for her. I didnt care about her. Apparently. #She was being patient with me. You know when she was shitting all over any dream i told her about #I feel like such a robot being so technical about this but its because i have never been safe enough to really be warm and open with her #And if i was warm and open it was really stupid of me like throwing pearls before swine and being deliberately blind to reality... #I am dreadfully familiar with this certain flavour of existing where i feel so cold and unknown right next to someone because they just dont #Have it in them to see you or ask how youre doing or anything and deep down you believe #Im not loved and its true! You arent loved by that person. And this family member who is supposed to really really be there for you loves yo #U less than a stranger on the street and you have to tell yourself no this is love #Just a different kind you have to lie to yourself #And feel like I guess this is my life now #And i feel small and doomed and resigned to the isolation which i guess is how i got thru it as a child... #What a load of disgusting people. They are not worth it. I dont want to be a bleeding heart anymore and give them little scraps of having a #Corteous relationship with me because its like the universe patting them on the head and saying you did a good job see? #Is that worth a week of troubled dreams? #They could play pretend in their delusion so I could have shitty dreams? #Hmmmmm literally none of it is my problem #My parents mental cage of denial not my problem #Thats their puzzle to go to pains to put together isnt it? #Is my sister getting a powerpoint of how shes ruined my life? Noooo that would make it way too easy for her. No answer key for these people. #I could! But i wont. #I could worry and caretake! And dim my opinions to soothe them! But i wont.

[wizkiddx]

living and reviving II

yep when I said three parts I think I meant 4 oops

summary: an overdue conversation that has to happen - like it or not

warnings: cheating, swearing, pregnancy talk, lots more angst, think thats it?

tomhollandxreader

/////////////////////// prev

So with a new sense of dread and fear and complete and total isolation you uttered three single words before hysterically running away.

“Don’t follow me.”

Not now, not ever.

That had been three weeks ago.

And it still fucking hurt like hell.

It had ended up that Yamna had taken you back to hers, where you had stayed for a couple nights. During that couple of days, Tom had tried. He had tried to apologise, tried to explain, tried to fix things. But it just wasn’t that easy.

Whatever he said, it didn’t take back from the fact that he had in that moment meant it. So no amount of sorrys could ever take that back.

After everyone had realised just how serious their situation was, Tom had moved out of your shared flat - so you could at least be in the place you were comfortable. Afterall the nursery was built in your flat and clearly it was you doing all the baby stuff for the moment. Thankfully Yamna, having been cut loose so without job, offered to move in with you. Which was probably the only thing keeping you going.

Well, that and ben and jerrys ‘phish food’. Honestly the shop must think you’re running some sort of ice cream black market at the rate you’re getting through their tubs.

Everyone kept parroting that it wasn’t good for the baby. Too much ice cream . Too much heavy lifting. Too much stress.

And yes, it probably was. But that was out of your control . The stress and lack of man in the household meant you had to do the heavy lifting of shopping from the car up the stairs. Shopping meaning ice cream, which you only depended on so much because of the stress.

It was a vicious cycle of hell.

Even Yamna, the person you were relying on keeping you sane had started walking on eggshells. It was as though you were literally about to pop, she always had to have at least half an eye on you. You were even banned from locking the toilet door - just in case.

It felt like you were a captive animal, people kept coming to observe you, giving sad looks before gleeing the scene.

You hadn’t been sleeping well either. Of course, being 3 weeks of your due date didn’t help - but neither did the lack of Tom. In fact, for the first time since shit had hit the fan, you had actually been managing to get some decent sleep when Yamna knocked on your bedroom door, quietly calling your name.

“I’m asleep” Groaning, you pulled the covers further over your head, praying to god that she’d leave you alone. But of course that wasn’t happening, she just lightly chuckled before you felt the bed dip - she had perched on the edge… Toms side.

“You never normally sleep talk.”

“I’m never normally this sleep deprived.” She sighed, whilst you still stubbornly kept your eyes closed.

“I’m sorry I woke you…. but this is important.”

“What?” Almost grunting, you threw the covers down looking up at her in anticipation. That was another thing about pregnancy - you were always on high alert, always worried.

“Toms here.”

“Tell him to f off.” Quickly you stopped caring about what your bestmate had to say.

“He’s saying that he’s the little ones dad and that he deserves to be involved and…. and I think I might agree.”

“I deserve a boyfriend who stays loyal to me so clearly neither of us are getting what we want.” You weren’t angry at Yamna and snapping at her wasn’t the answer. And yet you still did it.

“Y/n….I love you and I am completely on your side. I just think that maybe, perhaps, you should at least manage to be civil before baby arrives. Otherwise… thats going to be a lot to deal with all at once.”

It was your turn to sigh, deep and heavy (or at least as deep as the baby let). Most infuriatingly she was right. The conversation had to happen at some point. With a baby there too it would only be even more traumatic.

“He’s here now?” It only dawned on you how broken you actually sounded when the words croaked out of you.

“Yeh hunny… I didn’t let him inside so he’s standing outside the door looking like a dickhead right now.” The image cheered you up a little, enough to sit up in bed and be wrapped in Yamna’s arms. Her actions said it all, she really only meant the best for you and knew how hard this would be. After a moment she leant back. “I almost considered calling the paps so they could get a picture and label him as a groveling dick.”

“You should of.” Of course you didn’t mean it, but the answer had you both laughing. It took a minute to calm down before she changed subject slightly.

“You want me to make myself scarce? I can hide in my room or go to the shops or-“

“Text the guy from the bar - you deserve a night off ‘babysitting Y/n’ duties.”

“I’m not babys-“

“Yes you are. Go out with him and have some fun, I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeh”

That was a bare face lie - but Yamna had been almost too good to you. She really really needed a break. Especially as the current plan was she’d be helping with the newborn too. Right now you wouldn’t have wished a baby on yourself - never mind your best mate.

“Okay, get ready then babe - but do it slowly, leave him waiting outside in the cold for as long as possible.”

“Obviously.” You laughed, hauling yourself out of bed, where she gave you one more encouraging hug before leaving.

After hearing Yamna leave, and brushing your hair and throwing on a new pair of trakkies and hoodie, you slowly walked towards the door. It felt as though impending doom were on the other side and every fibre of you wanted to scream and run the other way. But it just had to happen at some point. Why not now?

With a final sharp exhale, attempting to pull yourself together, you opened the door. Immediately your heart sank, seeing nothing. Had you really been that long? And even so, was a 10 minute wait enough for him to give up? You could already feel the hormonal pregnancy tears starting to spring, when a grunt drew your attention.

What you hadn’t considered was the fact Tom was ready to camp out, sitting on the floor beside your door. Springing to his feet, he seemed shocked you’d actually opened the door - makes two of you. When Yamna left she had told him you were coming, but seeing really is believing.

“Y/n! I-I… I wasn’t sure you were ever going to answer.”

“You and me both.” You replied dryly, still leaning on the door. “Do you er…. do you want to come in?” Again he seemed shocked, as though he wasn’t sure you meant it.

“Is that-that okay?” Shrugging you just nodded, stepping back so he could get in. He did pay half the mortgage afterall.

“You want a drink?” He quickly declined your offer, not vocally but instead rushing past you to the kitchen and turning the kettle on himself.

“Your the pregnant one. Go chill on the sofa, I’ll bring you a cuppa.”

And a bit taken a back by his forcefulness you followed instructions, from the sofa watching how effortlessly he danced round the kitchen. It wasn’t shocking, it was technically his kitchen too. But seeing him there felt so alien, almost transporting you back to much much simpler times. Seemed a lifetime ago.

After a couple of minutes, he rounded the sofa with a hot chocolate in one hand for you (because caffiene is bad for the baby) and a cup of Yorkshire tea in the other.

“So… how have you been?”

“Ate a lot of ben and jerrys” You answered without really answering, except he knew you all too well.

“That bad?” He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his brow “how about the baby?”

“I don’t tend to carry an ultrasound on me but she’s been keeping me up all night kicking - so normal I guess.”

“Thats good” He spoke before realising what he said. “Sorry no I um-I don’t mean it like that!” You all but laughed in the face of his flusteredness, only making the tips of his ears go pinker.

“I assume you had something to say and that you came here for a reason rather than just pity me?”

“I want to make things right Y/n - I-I mean your having my kid.”

“OUR kid”

“ Exactly! And-and I love you too and-“

“Bullshit” You may have murmured it under your breath but you had intended for him to hear.

“Oh come one Y/n, you know that!”

It was like the man was asking to be yelled at.

“Don’t sit there trying to patronise me! I THOUGHT i knew it but then I saw you all over another girl. So yes, I’m calling bullshit.”

“Ugh I… If your not going to even try to hear me out then…”

“Then what Tom? You gonna kick me out. I mean this is your flat after all! Maybe you’d like to dump the mother of your unborn child homeless on the street and forget about us - how’d that sound? I’m sure your fans would blindly applaud you.”

“Listen! Please would you just listen to me.” His voice was loud and tone harsh, making you flinch a little. Not because you were ever worried he’d hurt you - but how this wave of uncomfort shuddered through your body, baby even squirming in discontent. So focused on that you just nodded, shifting back into the sofa.

Tom had noticed your reaction and seeing you seemingly scared of him like that, well it broke his heart. Even more.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to shout, I just…. I really need to try and fix this.” He leaned closer, letting out a thankful breath when you just nodded, as if to say go on.

“I’ve really really missed you… these past couple of weeks I’ve never felt so gulity in my life. Not because of what I did! Well yeh that but-but more how much it hurt you and-“

“Fuck.”

You couldn’t help but let out that little curse of pain as a new wave of pain, which seemed to originate from your lower back, shuddered through you. Tom looked up from where his eyes had been nervously wringing his palms whilst he spoke. Rubbing a hand over your belly you shook your head and motioned for him to continue.

She was just kicking really really hard. Right?

“Uhm yeh so I just wanted to properly tell you everything that happened that night so at least we are on the same page? A-And I’m not going to try and use this an excuse but I had been drinking so-“

Seemingly baby disliked the end of that sentence too, causing another rippling wave to echo through your body, feeling as though a band was pressing tightly round your stomach. With another small curse it forced you to stand up, in the hope that’d ease her. Clearly she was as done with his shit as you were.

“Need a water.” You muttered, already waddling to the kitchen, where you heard Tom follow you immediately - like an inpatient dog.

“Y/n sit down I can-“

He was silenced by you freezing and grabbing his arm tightly - a physical contact he hadn’t been expecting from you.

“Tom… get your phone.” You spoke slowly, still not having dared to have moved an inch - fingers almost white from how tightly you were squeezing his forearm.

“Wha-are you-are you okay?”

“I think my waters just broke. Get the phone. Now.”

~~~ feedback is really appreciated + would love to know what u think as still in the process of writing so can be guided / helped by asks !!! ~~~

taglist: @maraudersandco @@minejungwoo @sippin-on-tea @thegirlintheswivelchair @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @arctic-monkcys @ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol @marvelsbitch8 @peterr-parkourr @lizzyclifford13-blog @user1683 @elishi03

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland angst #tom x reader #peter parkqueue #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x reader #tomholland #dad!tom #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x pregnant!reader #Tom Holland fluff #tom holland fluff

[sylver-drawer]

Nah fr tho what was up with Lucas casually being like “yea I let thousands of people die to spite the world tree! What of it?” Like ???? What am I supposed to like his character after hearing that? Are they going for cool points or smth lmfao? Sorry to say but if athy marries and puts someone like him on the throne the whole country is fucked 💀

Yeah??? I know Lucas lovers love that deranged child to the point they genuinely think there’s nothing wrong with him, but like??? At this point, Spoon is quite literally going “this man has no moral compass at all and would/has let the world burn just because he doesn’t care” in bold letters on a sign and majority of the Lucas lovers/Lucathy shippers genuinely just,,, ignore it???

Like it isn’t old information we’re going off of. This happened like four chapters ago, and the story’s Deus Ex Machina admitted it himself without a single ounce of guilt, literally complaining that the world tree asked it of him.

A while ago I fought with an avid Lucas stan who absolutely refused to believe Lucas was a bad person. I brought up that one scene where he literally went “If Athy dies, I will blow Obelia and the world up” and they went “but he only thought about it so he didn’t do anything wrong :(((“

And I could literally only stare at the screen. Blinking my shock away. Like ok, if I think of committing mass genocide, it’s ok? Not a single thing about me is flawed or a heavy red flag, I’m the purest bean in the world?

I pray to the gods that Athy doesn’t marry Lucas because he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about Obelia or the world. All of the men in the story suck, but please don’t give the throne or shared title of the throne to a man who openly admits and bemoans about how their parent told them to save a civilization from perishing from a slow, painful death giving disease. If you’re going to marry anyone, meet a new person idk, just someone who’s a decent person? Especially when lately. Athy has been so serious and focused about becoming a good empress and ruler. Like she’s actually serious serious, I don’t think she’s ever been so determined about something other than living. The first step would probably be to make sure your partner at least cares about humans.

I feel like avid Lucas and Claude apologists would acknowledge how terrible the two are if the story actually framed their actions seriously. Claude’s done so many things people love to ignore and/or forget about I could practically write a book, and we’ve already mentioned the thing about Lucas. The story mentioned it so quickly and almost like an offhand comment. When you’re scrolling really fast because you’re reading or mostly look at the pretty art, you don’t notice the heavier, more implied and intricate details.

There was maybe three panels of that one scene. Him going “oh yeah, sometimes the world tree would tell me annoying stuff like ‘go save these people suffering’ and I was like nah that’s stupid because you’re annoying”, and then Athy making a face. But that was literally it.

I’m honestly kinda?? Lokey disappointed it didn’t focus on that fact more? Like Athy was an orphan, she had to fend for herself just to survive. And this man just admitted to her. This all powerful, practically godlike plot device. He just admitted he has the power to save multiple countries suffering all over the world. But simply doesn’t because it’s annoying. It honestly reminds me of billionaires, officials, and etc in our modern world? Like you have all this money and power, and you use it for either luxury or proffit or just plain old selfish hate when you could end poverty and world hunger. We are literally taking our steps into a world war three, people are dying and suffering everywhere, and people who have the power simply choose not to use it.

If people liked Lucas because of his looks and personality, Athy could easily just find someone similar to Lucas. There are so many handsome men in the world of WMAMP who have a sarcastic, teasing nature that I’m pretty sure her options aren’t limited to the Apathetic Plot Device Who Would Definitely Call Me Slurs If He Found Out I Was Gay and The Kid Who Walked Into Her Private Library Once. We literally have Helena’s brother and ‘the lone wolf’ as potential interests right there. Or hell, what about Cabel or the Arlantan Prince? Siodonnan Royalty??? Why doesn’t anyone make self insert OCs to ship with Athy, because honestly any option is better than the two we have.

#who made me a princess #wmmap #wmmap ships #lucathy discourse #lucas discourse #wmmap discourse #syl tea

[saturdaysky]

hello! i hope you don't mind a message, but i am just excited to see someone else who liked AMCE and would love to know if you have recs for books that are similar, because i've been thinking about it for like a month straight since i finished reading it and would love something else to occupy my brain the way that it did. no pressure to answer ofc, just happy to share good vibes over a book :)

I do not mind it at all! <3

I do have some books that scratched a similar itch as A Memory Called Empire! I looooved the thoughtful focus on culture and language and identity within an intricate setting, so these recs follow that pattern somewhat.

Under a cut because this got kind of long.

The Imperial Radch trilogy by Ann Leckie

Liked the exploration of culture, identity, and imperialism in AMCE? You will probably like these books, since they also grapple with those themes. Also present is the exploration of personhood, who has it, and who does not -- because our main character is a person who used to be a starship. Or well, sort of. Wikipedia has a decent blurb:

The novel follows Breq—who is both the sole survivor of a starship destroyed by treachery, and the vessel of that ship's artificial consciousness—as she seeks revenge against the ruler of her civilization.

These books are honestly some of my favorite books ever. They combine a really thoughtful and deliberate focus on all the stuff mentioned above, fascinating plots and world-building, and characters who absolutely made me Feel Things. Highly recommended if you like, say, emotionally closed-off and damaged characters learning to care and be cared for while also skillfully navigating an intricate web of power to pursue their goals and reckon with the harm they've caused. But with bonus smart thoughts about robots.

The Foreigner series by C.J. Cherryh

I haven't fully made my way through this series, but it's rewarding every time I sit down to read another book. The books follow Bren Cameron, diplomat to an alien court, as he negotiates the intricate web of politics and intrigue involved in making sure the crash-landed colony ship he represents doesn't get obliterated or obliterate anyone else, despite humans making some monumental fuck-ups in the recent past.

And when you live and work and eat among one people, how much do you really belong to the people you came from? Of course, neither side really trusts someone who straddles both worlds, and to cap it off, the atevi people he lives among are different from humans in a fundamental way: they have no word for friend or love because those are alien concepts to the atevi. They do not feel such things. Instead, they live by an intricate web of obligation and favors. Trust is something a little more practical and a lot more deadly, for the atevi.

But these are not heartless novels -- part of the joy is watching the main characters grow meaningful relationships, even though the form is fraught and strange and never quite means the same thing to the people on either side.

If you like slow and thorough explanations of culture where meeting with your friend's grandmother is a potentially perilous activity (because the tea might be poisoned, because she might take you on a hunting trip you won't come back from, because she's a formidable political power and might be trying to assassinate your friend, because your friend might know all of this and have sent you anyway, also your friend is the king) these are books you might like.

The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison

If you like deep dives of culture, language, identity, and loyalty within the deadly intrigue of a fantasy court, I hiiiiighly recommend this book. The book follows Maia, the youngest and least-favored heir to the throne who gets unexpectedly crowned when everyone else in line dies and must quickly learn to survive the cutthroat politics. But Maia isn't cutthroat by nature; he is kind and must negotiate how to keep that kindness in the face of pressures that would be easy to solve with cruelty, as well as people keen to take advantage of what they think of as a weakness.

This book'll hit you with a lot of fantasy language at first (it's a focus of the book), but if you stick with it you'll be fine. You're learning all this intricate court language at the same time as our protag; he too is a little out of his depth at the start.

Steerswoman series by Rosemary Kirstein

I dearly want to go back and read these -- it's been a few years, but they absolutely sucked me in. The books follow Rowan, a steerswoman, as she tracks down the mystery of a strange and incongruous gemstone. In-universe steerswomen are basically traveling scientists and naturalists who have taken an oath of truth.

The books start out in what seems like your fairly typical Standard Fantasy Setting with wizards and dragons, but as Rowan learns more about the strange gem, it's clear that this Standard Fantasy Setting is...not as it seems. There are three things that I loved about these books: the sense of wonder and discovery as our fantasy scientist protag reasons through problems and begins to discover she lives in a sci fi world, the interesting relationship between the main characters, and the excitement you as a reader have when YOU realize exactly what mysterious object Rowan is describing and what the implications of that are for the setting.

The Broken Earth trilogy by N.K. Jemisin

Riveting series -- brutal and beautiful. Straddles the line in some respects between sci fi and fantasy. Follows characters who live on a far, far-future Earth plagued by catastrophic climate events called "Seasons" that last generations. There are some people born who have power drawn from the earth; these people are alternately hated and ruthlessly trained to hone their powers to attempt to prevent another Season. (This sort of sounds like the setup to a YA coming-of-age novel, but it is really really not.)

The world and fantastical aspects are fascinating (cyclical post apocalyptic societies! geology magic!), and the books themselves explore family bonds, racism in both a personal and systemic sense, and broken systems and the wounds they leave upon the people within them even as those people wound others. The series is not a light read, but it is a good one.

Literally anything by Ursula K. Leguin

All of her work could be recommended if you liked AMCE. Her writing spans fantasy and science fiction, and includes thoughtful and moving explorations of some similar ideas: culture and cultural exchange, gender, different societal setups, you name it.

If you're looking for a good novel, The Left Hand of Darkness is a classic for a reason. If you'd like a sample platter of interesting short stories, The Birthday of the World and Other Stories is wonderful.

#book recs #i had to trim this list down so you know... i got more recs where this came from #like #anticapitalist books about Personhood & a killer robot who just became A Person; robot is in a committed not-relationship w a cargo carrier #a book from the POV of a god who is a mountain watching society rise and fall around it. but other gods do more than just watch... #books about greek gods making a bet & stealing 10k children to form a philosophically perfect society outside of time. 3rd book set on mars #scifi books about an alternate history of the US space program if an asteroid struck Earth in 1952 - as told by the first female astronauts #a book about the messy relationships between you - a body-hopping parasite - and the people whose bodies you steal #a book about a colony ship that lands on a planet full of plants they do not realize are sentient and predatory - as told over generations #a book about a colony ship that lands on a planet where ancient terraforming accidentally uplifted spiders instead of primates #AND MORE! #asks #burningdarkfire

[mrscolesprouse]

35 and 49 for the prompts if you're happy to do them!!

i don’t even remember when these prompts are from but i just spent three hours writing to procrastinate the amount of work i need to do. enjoy babies, i know we miss our bughead <3

35: “Do you trust me?”

It’s such a perfect day in Riverdale.

It’s a Sunday and Betty isn’t working so she’s found herself at the one spot that brings her some semblance of peace.

It’s a spot she’s deemed, hers.

It’s a little cliff that overlooks a part of Sweetwater River, and she likes to sit there on days like this.

On days where she only wants to hear the quiet rustle of trees and the soft flow of water, and not her mother’s shrieking scream and her father’s bellowing yell. It’s her little slice of heaven and nothing ever disturbs it.

She wouldn’t say the cliff is unsafe, just a little intimidating, and there’s a deep amount of water that would cushion her if she ever fell, but she doesn’t necessarily have the urge to ever jump in from this high. It’s a decent twenty-five to thirty-foot drop. If she wanted to jump in, she’d walk down the hill and jump from a smaller ledge.

So when a man runs up to her, frantic and panicky, she has no idea what to do. She stands from the ledge in fear, her hand to her chest.

“Do you trust me?” The man says, his dark hair pointing up in all directions, an indication that he’s been running for a while.

Betty looks around, “No! What the fuck! I just met you?! Why would I—“

The man cuts her off, “Well you better jump or else we’re dead.”

Betty narrows her eyes in confusion, “Why, why would I ever…do that?”

The man looks between her and the space behind her, “Well, if you want to get trampled and slash or killed by a bunch of wild Ghoulies, your best option is to jump.”

She looks at this crazed man in disbelief and a little bit of amusement and barks out a laugh, “What the fuck are Ghoulies?”

She can hear, quite literally, a herd of …something… (Ghoulies????) come her way and he grabs her hand, gently, hesitantly. A stark contrast to his panicky nature.

“Listen, I don’t want a random person, you, to get caught in a gang war, so it’s either we jump now, and get fuck out of here, or we’ll be pushed or worse. I’m sorry but…I’d rather you get the fuck out of here.”

“You don’t even know who I am? Why wouldn’t you just jump on your own?”

He’s getting frustrated and anxious now, “I-I know, I know okay—“ he looks over her shoulder, “I’ll—I’ll buy you, something, dinner or like a milkshake or something. I’ll give you straight-up cash, I don’t care, just please…” He lays his hand out.

Betty looks down at the water beneath her and his outstretched hand, and sighs. This is not how she thought her day would go.

But she looks at this panicked man, his tousled raven curls, sparkling blue eyes and tall, thin frame, and says, fuck it.

She takes her phone and chucks it into the nearby bush, grabs his hand hastily and they jump.

…

49: You caught me doing something dangerous and flipped out

!Mature! (mentions of smutty stuff, and mention of r@pe)

What is she doing here?

Listen, there aren’t many things in this world that Jughead hates more than Betty Cooper. Her uptight attitude, that tight blonde ponytail, her upper-middle-class poise. The entitlement. Jesus, there’s nothing Jughead wouldn’t give to rip out that ponytail and see if her whole personality falls apart.

And to find her here, in the basement of the Ghoulie clubhouse, trying to argue her way out of a chair, that she’s been tied to.

She’s tied to a chair.

Yes, he hates her. But he hates the Ghoulies more.

He’d come to the Ghoulie Clubhouse to have a civil conversation with Malachai. The Ghoulie leader had known Jughead was coming, but he wasn’t upstairs at the table like they’d discussed, so Jughead was led downstairs to where Malachai was supposedly dealing with business.

Arguing with Betty Cooper, who is, ONCE AGAIN, tied to a chair.

After he knocks out Malachai and his minion waiting at the door, he hastily unties Betty, grabs her wrist, and leads her out the back door, all with her fighting against his grip.

When they make it to his motorcycle, he signals her to get on and she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest in refusal.

“Get. On.” Jughead says, through his teeth, in anger and frustration.

Betty smiles, “No.”

Jughead grabs his helmet, and puts it onto her head, grabbing her waist and putting her on his motorcycle. He gets in behind her and wraps his arms around her to reach the handlebars.

He can tell Betty is fuming in front of him, but she’s not making any effort to get off, so he starts his motorbike and they’re off.

He drives them to his trailer and the minute he stops, Betty jumps off, hastily takes off his helmet and throws it on the ground.

“What the fuck was that?”

Jughead chuckles humorously as he lazily gets off the motorcycle, puts down the brake and leans against it, arms crossed.

“I’m sorry, what the fuck was that? How did you, Princess Elizabeth Cooper, find herself tied to a chair, in the basement of a drug den? The Ghoulie Clubhouse? How, the fuck, does prim and proper Betty Cooper find herself there, of all places?”

Betty picks a piece of fluff off her black, low-cut sweater, something he’s never seen her wear before in his life. “Oh that, Malachai and I were just having a little fun.”

Jughead stands up and walks towards her slowly, “A little fun, my ass. Tell me what you were doing there, right now.”

Betty huffs and crosses her arms over her chest, accentuating her breasts, “You can’t tell me what to do.”

Jughead stops in front of her and looks down at her, “Try me. Tell me, right now, what you were doing there.”

Betty glares at him, “I can take care of myself you know. I didn’t need you to knock Malachai out and treat me like a princess locked in an ivory tower. I was handling it.”

Jughead licks his lips and glares at her harder, “That’s funny. It didn’t look like it. How do you ‘handle it’ with you tied to a chair?”

“Fuck you, Jughead. You don’t think I can handle myself, what, because I’m a woman? I needed a big, strong man to come and save me? The big, scary Serpent King, to come and rescue me? I didn’t need to be saved.”

Jughead puts his hand on her chin, running his thumb down her bottom lip roughly. Her eyes darken but she’s still glaring at him. As is he, “I’m sorry honey, but it looks like you did. Now, don’t make me ask again. What the fuck were you doing there?”

She tries to get out of his hold, but his hand remains roughly placed at her chin, “I was following a lead.”

Jughead barks out a humorous laugh once more, honestly, this whole thing is amusing.

“You were ‘following a lead.’” He says, mockingly.

Betty glares at him even harder and pushes her hands against his chest.

Jughead continues, “And did The Princess find what she came for?”

“No,” Betty says through her teeth.

Jughead and Betty have known each other since the ripe young age of six. Jughead would chase after her and pull her hair in the playground. She’d kick his ass playing any sports and stick her tongue out at him every time she’d win.

She’d get under his skin in freshman and sophomore year when they’d compete against each other in the high school spelling bee, always coming first to his second. They’d compete against each other in the Mathletes team and in debating and they’d always be against each other.

And when Betty won valedictorian and he was salutatorian, once again did they find each other at odds.

In all of his life, Jughead has never wanted to fuck her so hard, then he does right now. He’s never wanted to push her against the wall and fuck her so hard she cums over and over again. He’s never wanted to suck her clit so hard and lick that pretty pussy until she screams for everyone to hear. He’s never, so badly, wanted to pull at that ponytail while she takes his whole cock into her mouth, choking her with his cum. He’s never wanted to teach her a lesson so bad for scaring the absolute shit out of him by being down there.

Except, that he does, which he’d known he has since he began feeling any type of lust for anyone. There she was, so uptight and perfect, and he’d always wanted to rough her up.

And right now, he’d give anything to push her against his trailer, wrap those creamy long legs around his waist and fuck her raw.

Jughead pushes away his lustful thoughts. “And what exactly did you come for, Betty? Why were you there really?”

Betty sighs now, tired of this whole thing and Jughead releases his hand from her chin.

“I was there because I wanted to snoop. I wanted concrete evidence that the Ghoulies are making and distributing Jingle Jangle across Riverdale, so I could finally do something about it. Put Malachai away, shut down the operation. But I was too hasty about it. I should’ve brought back up, I should’ve been more prepared. It’s just, another person died, and I got angry. I shouldn’t have done it, it was stupid. But I didn’t need you to rescue me.”

Jughead sighs, “Betty, you should’ve come to me. You know I know stuff about this, but you’re so stubborn that you would never come to me about this stuff.”

Betty walks over to sit on the stairs that lead up to his front door, “Jughead, I’m tired. I’m over it. My head hurts. I don’t need you calling me names because I was too stupid to see through my hatred for you. I get it, okay.”

It makes him uncomfortable to see her defeated. He may have spent his whole life hating her, but he’s never seen her as weak. He walks up to her and crouches down, so they’re at eye level,

“If you’d come to me, you’d know I was dealing with this. You may think I’m your—what did you say— ‘big, scary Serpent King’ but I’m not standing around all day doing nothing. You know that I’m not dumb. I’m dealing with this shit daily, I’m trying to make Riverdale better and clean of their stupid drugs. And if you’d come to me, you’d know why I was there today, which was to give him an ultimatum. I dug up some dirt, found some shit and can put him away for a long, long time. I’m so close, Betty. Now, I don’t know what’s going to happen. He might flee before I can hand in the evidence, or not even sit down with me. I don’t know what to do.

But today, you were stupid. Because these men aren’t respectful. You come into my bar? You snoop around my shit, yeah we’d get angry, but I’m telling you, none of my men, would ever do anything to disrespect you. The Ghoulies, on the other hand, don’t care when a pretty girl comes in, looking like you do. They don’t respect women, they don’t see them like we do. And we may be a gang as well, but first, we’re a family. They don’t give a shit about that. They’re the lowest of low. So excuse me, for getting you out, for protecting you. Because the last thing I want to hear is that Betty Cooper, valedictorian of her year, journalist, friend, sister, a woman I’ve known since before I could think any cohesive thought, was raped and killed by a bunch of scum of the earth.”

Betty’s face crumbles and a sob releases from her lips. A tear runs down her face and she puts her head in her hands, in embarrassment, in anger, in fear, he doesn’t know. But he feels his heart crack at the sound.

He stands and sits on the stair next to her, shuffling her down so she leans into him as she sobs. He wraps his arms around her and places his chin on her head.

He whispers out into the night, “I’m sorry, I know that’s intense. And I know we’ve spent our whole lives hating each other. But I respect you, okay? Despite all that. You’re intelligent and beautiful, and seeing you down there scared the shit out of me. And I admire your bravery and I know you’re strong and can take care of yourself. But I don’t know what they were going to do. I assumed they had to have knocked you out already to get you tied up like that and I just panicked. I’m sorry okay. I’m sorry for forcing you to get on my motorcycle and come here but I was scared. And I’ll admit that I was scared.”

He feels her take a large inhale of breath against his chest, and then, he feels her arms come and wrap around his waist. He feels her bury her head into his stomach.

Jughead’s heart skips a beat and he’s never felt this scared in his life.

“I’m sorry.” He hears her say softly, and he looks down at her to see her looking up at him, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, just come to me next time, please. Please, Betty, I’m begging you, we can help each other. Just don’t do that again.”

Betty nods, looking up at him, at his lips, he realizes, and she places her head at the crook of his neck.

#bughead #bughead drabble #bughead fanfic #my writing #loooong overdue prompts #riverdale

[that-house]

Viego Rant (villainy and character design and tragedy and all that jazz)

Introduction The more I think about Viego, League of Legends’ newest character, the more enamored I am with him as a villain (unrelated to his general sexiness, though that does tie in with what makes him such a good villain).

I’ve seen a lot of complaints about his design. The Ruined King, one of the greatest threats in Runeterra, the progenitor of the Shadow Isles, the lord of the undead, is finally released as a playable champion and he looks like this:

People were expecting another Mordekaiser (who is similarly an undead king with a ghost army), a lich-tyrant clad in iron, decayed flesh peeling from an aged face. What we got was an angsty anime prettyboy, and it was infinitely better than the alternatives. 

Lore Viego isn’t a conquering king. While his combat abilities are indeed badass, his personality is far from it. He’s a whiny brat and that’s incredible. He isn’t bent on world domination. His character arc revolves around just how human, how fallible he really is. For those unfamiliar with his lore, I’ll paraphrase it here:

Viego was the second son of a great king. Overshadowed by his brother and with no expectations upon him and near-limitless wealth, he wandered around being an idiot fuckboy for the vast majority of his formative years. Disaster struck when his brother died in an accident, and Viego took the throne with no training, no experience, and no desire to be king. He was a shitty king. The worst king. Just all-around apathetic. Gave zero shits. Can you blame him? It’s a lot of responsibility to be thrust upon someone who isn’t much more than a child, and with no preparation. He didn’t care about anything, that is, until he met Isolde. She was a poor seamstress, but he fell in love with her upon their first meeting. Together they ruled the country but it was really just them staring longingly into each others’ eyes. His allies were kinda fucking pissed about that, and one day an assassin came from Viego. The assassin fucked up and stabbed Isolde instead, and the poison on the blade made her fall gravely ill. As she lay in her bed, slowly dying, Viego went mad seeking a cure. He ravaged the land seeking any knowledge that might help, pouring all of his money into finding an antidote. He failed. As a last resort, he brought Isolde’s body to the Blessed Isles, a place rumored to be able to resurrect the dead. It worked, to an extent. Isolde’s wraith, confused, afraid, and angry at being ripped from the peace of death, unthinkingly stabbed Viego in the chest with his own magic sword, creating basically a magic nuke that turned the Blessed Isles into the domain of the undead. Viego resurrected as the king of the Shadow Isles some time later, having totally forgotten that Isolde killed him. He controls a big-ass ghost army, could probably beat up any living thing in a fight, and has evil ghost magic. Now this stupid simp wants his wife back and if he has to kill every living thing on Runeterra, well, anything for his queen. He’s even a tier 3 sub to her Twitch.

Music His musical theme isn’t some heavy metal anthem or intense cinematic piece (unlike the Pentakill song named after his sword, Blade of the Ruined King). It’s mostly sad and slow, almost sinister, with a piano and a music box. It has its loud moments featuring violins and choral bits like any villainous music, but the song is mostly subtle. It is a banger though.

In the comments section of this video, someone pointed out that the music reflects his story from beginning to end:

Everything about this champion is so well done. Riot Games really outdid themselves on this one. Bravo, encore please.

Motivation While the Mordekaiser circlejerkers on r/LeagueofLegends won’t shut the fuck up about how powerful Mordekaiser is, Viego is the better villain. Mordekaiser may be a bigger threat to all life on Runeterra, but Viego is a better character. (There’s a guy on my League discord server who won’t shut up about Mordekaiser so forgive me for being pissed at Morde stans).

Mordekaiser is motivated by a desire for control, to rule the world. Viego is motivated by obsession and misplaced love. There aren’t a lot of Mordekaisers on Earth. Supervillains are rare in real life. But Viego’s motivations are a lot closer to home. People in positions of power that they don’t deserve can do a lot of harm (for example: Trump).

He’s a grieving husband who was never prepared to deal with anything more difficult than choosing what wine to drink with dinner, who is trying to get his wife back because the world had always complied to his every whim. He’s a funky mix between a truly hopeless romantic and a spoiled brat throwing a temper tantrum.

Obsession is scary. It’s a real-world emotional state that’s been the cause of a lot of murders over mankind’s history. In contrast, Mordekaiser’s cartoonish Genghis Khan XXL schtick isn’t something that we encounter often. Of course a superpowered ultradictator would be worse for the world, but if you give ultimate power to a random person, you’re more likely to get someone like Tighten from Megamind. Or, more relevantly, Viego.

Design His design is sexy and stupid, just like him. He wears an open shirt into battle and wields his sword like an idiot (I’ve seen all the rants about how that’s not how that sword is meant to be used) because he was never really a warrior. Even at his most violent, right before the end of his mortal life, he didn’t do much combat himself, leaving his military endeavors to his underlings. Even now that he’s essentially a god, he still has a colossal wraith army that causes far more devastation than he ever could personally.

Despite his slim build (by League of Legends standards), he easily wields his colossal sword because of the strength of his state of undeath. Like his political power when he was alive, his posthumous magical and physical powers were never something he sought out, they were just given to him by circumstance.

The big cool-ass triangle hole in his chest where Isolde stabbed him is the source of the Black Mist, which is evil ghost mist that ebbs and flows from the Shadow Isles, bringing with it hordes of the undead. The sadder Viego is, the more Mist he creates. Poetically, his invasion of the world is inspired by his sorrow at his wife’s death and enabled by his wife’s reluctance to return to him. His story is perfectly reflected by his design.

Isolde Isolde’s spirit took up residence inside a young Senna (who’s another League champion, not particularly important here). This led to some Black Mist-related shenanigans and at least for the time being, Senna uses Isolde’s power to fight off the servants of Viego which threaten all life on Runeterra.

It seems pretty clear that whatever love Isolde felt for Viego is gone by now. Whether or not she ever loved him or was just unable to say no to the king is up for debate, but I’d like to believe there was something there. In my opinion, Viego’s story hits harder if they really were a great couple at first, torn apart by circumstance and obsession.

Much like the Maiden of the Woods in that one comic that circulates around here, to whom the knight gave his heart and she was like “yo what the fuck i literally never asked you to do this,” Viego went a little too far in trying to save her. They may have once been happy, but the Ruined King ruined his own life, too.

Unless Isolde is a lot less morally decent than we’ve been led to believe, I doubt she can forgive all the massacring that her husband’s been doing lately. In the recent cinematic, she was shown to be pretty anti-Viego. Maybe she’ll get a bastardization arc, but it certainly seems unlikely.

All of Season 2021 is based around Viego, Isolde, and the Shadow Isles, so we’ll just have to see what comes next. It’s possible that we’ll get Isolde as a playable champion, which should clear a lot of things up.

Final Thoughts Unlike so many villains, he’s not fueled by rage or hatred, but rather by sorrow. He’s stuck in his past, unable to move on. He regrets the actions of his life but is set on his course now. The sunk-cost fallacy comes into play here; he’s put so much time and effort and blood into bringing back Isolde, that turning away from it would feel to him like an insult, not only to her but to the innocent lives he’s taken in her name.

His tale is a tragedy, a love story gone horrifically wrong. Viego has suffered throughout his thousand-year life. Despite this, he’s undoubtedly the villain. His permanent death would be a net positive for the world. In has rage and grief he’s destroyed multiple civilizations, and will burn down the world to get Isolde back.

His heart may be in the wrong place, but it’s in a very human place. I don’t think he’ll get the ending he’s looking for, but I hope he finds some closure in the end.

#League of Legends #viego #i swear no one's gonna read this #even if you dont care about League i tried to make this interesting #even if you don't like League as a game the lore is pretty fucking solid

[quidfree]

prompts,.,, fem tdbk and a date gone very wrong ? ❤️

ohhhh my god anon. pump this shit directly into my veins i love this whole premise let’s go. also all inspired by whatever the fuck horikoshi was doing in this 

just so everyone is on the same page here, it is not a fucking date.

it’s lunch. a singular lunch. people do that shit all the time. even katsuki does lunch, sometimes. she went to that semi-shitty diner place with kirishima that one time when the food hall was shut because some dumbass first year exploded into goo or whatever. and todoroki does lunch, too- her and deku were on some shitty lunch date like a week ago, as evidenced by deku’s even shittier selfie of them having a grand old time doing whatever the fuck they do alone.

fuck, not a shitty lunch date. a shitty lunch. whatever.

the point is lunch is a normal non-date thing people do, and the fact katsuki and todoroki are maybe not the usual suspects for it is just circumstantial. it’s not like they planned it ahead of time, or made some big thing about it. they literally arranged for it in public, so obviously todoroki didn’t think there was anything weird about it. and there isn’t! they’re both going to be in tokyo on the same day, and todoroki’s always happy for any excuse to spend less time with her old man, and katsuki sure as fuck wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to avoid her hag of a birth-giver for a few blissful hours, so when todoroki had very nonchalantly gone ‘oh, bakugou, we could do lunch then”, it wasn’t like she had any real reason to tell her to go fuck herself. like, yeah, maybe a year ago, on principle, she would have, but even katsuki can only take so much trauma-bonding before she resigns herself to the reality that she’s stuck with half ‘n half for life, one way or another, and she may as well suck it up and approach civility because said moron is determined to ignore her open malice until she plays along anyways. they’re... you know, whatever. friends. or something. jesus.

the point being that it’s not a date, and the fact that she’s getting increasingly annoyed at her limited wardrobe is just because she would have packed more shit if the crone hadn’t insisted that they ‘pack light’ so they could get cheaper train tickets for less luggage. it’s just annoying that she can’t wear anything that’s not screaming holiday.

it occurs to her as she sits and scowls at her suitcase that her mother has been watching her from the doorframe for some undetermined amount of time, which is criminal mainly because she’s a goddamn hero-to-be and getting snuck up on by anyone is a blight upon her good name. she tries to disguise the ego damage dealt by glowering murderously in her progenitor’s direction.

“what the fuck do you want?”

“you know,” the she-devil says, cocking a hip, “if you want to borrow something nicer...”

“i wouldn’t be caught dead in your shitty clothes!” katsuki snarls, which prompts the witch to immediately scowl back.

“watch your damn mouth!”

“watch your waistline! no way in hell are we the same size!”

“why you little-”

the interruption at least reminds her that she is obsessing over her clothes ahead of meeting todoroki for lunch, which is so humiliating it kickstarts her brain again long enough to grab some normal shit and get the hell out of there.

on the walk she checks her phone again. the previous day she’d had to bite the bullet and make the first move, todoroki’s infamously terrible communication skills making themselves known once more, and their ensuing conversation had been so mortifying she’d nearly cancelled all-together.

to: Half ‘n half

Yo asshole are we still meeting tomorrow or what

I’m busy as shit

from: Half ‘n half

Yes. TS

to: Half ‘n half

What the fuck is TS

from: Half ‘n half

I was signing off.

to: Half ‘n half

SIGNING OFF ON YOUR OWN TEXT

YOU THINK I DONT KNOW YOUR DAMN NAME

from: Half ‘n half

[Pin attached]

Does here at 12.30 work for you?

to: Half ‘n half

Yeah whatever

Don’t be late

And don’t think I’m forgetting the fucking signing off thing

from: Half ‘n half

Glad you can make time for mockery in your busy as shit schedule.

the venue looks like some rich person shit, which she semi-expected, but it means a lot of people give her weird looks as she makes her way inside, probably on account of the shorts and t-shirt she’s wearing if not her general vibe. some old woman actually drags her purse to her, which makes katsuki sorely tempted to bare her teeth and maybe hiss for effect, though she settles for scowling and shoving her hands in her pockets. it’s 12.27, because she wasn’t going to be late but being any earlier would have given off some dubious impression that she’s eager to see todoroki, except now she kind of wishes she’d just come for 12.30 because if there’s some reservation bullshit she gets the feeling she’s going to start fighting with the waiting staff, and then-

“bakugou,” todoroki calls, from inside, raising a hand with unnecessary formality. “you made it.”

“course i made it,” katsuki grunts, absolutely not relieved as she by-passes the suspicious looking waiter to join her outside. “think i can’t ride the damn underground by myself?”

todoroki is wearing jeans cuffed at the ankles and a white t-shirt on top of which she’s thrown on an open button-up with the sleeves rolled up, and she looks casual and normal and incidentally kind of like they dressed to match, but the important part is that she doesn’t look dressed up at all, so katsuki was totally right about the non-date situation, and also isn’t the only one totally underdressed for the shitty venue.

“you look nice,” todoroki says then, completely shattering katsuki’s brief moment of reprieve. “i’ve never seen so much color on you.”

katsuki almost chokes on her own tongue, but the worst part is that the asshole seems completely nonchalant about the weird as shit observation, focused on her stool as she takes a seat on the balcony. which- what the actual fuck? since when does todoroki issue compliments unprompted- of the non-professional variety, at that? and what the fuck does she expect katsuki to say now- return the compliment? say thanks? is this whole thing some kind of exercise in psychological torture?

well, fuck it. she can’t look like a little bitch just because todoroki said something inanely positive. two can play that game.

“yeah. you look half decent yourself. did you hire someone to dress you for the occasion?”

todoroki blinks up at her in surprise, which is totally a win and would make her more smug if she could stop feeling so weird and prickly all over. for a dangerous moment todoroki seems on the verge of blushing, but miraculously the world rights itself and the usual deadpan persists, one brow quirking up in completely feigned ineptitude.

“there was a compliment somewhere in there, so thank you, i think. i thought we were past this vendetta.”

“we’ll be past this vendetta the day you burn your piece of shit hero suit,” katsuki retorts, back on familiar ground, and relaxes long enough to squint down at the menu.

this turns out to be a mistake.

“the fuck? is this whole thing in french?”

“oh,” todoroki says, after a beat. “that makes sense. i thought my english had deteriorated.”

“are you- you didn’t know? you recommended the place!”

“it was the nearest place to our hotel,” todoroki defends, now having the decency of looking slightly put out. “coq can’t mean what i think it means, can it?”

“that’s chicken, asshole,” katsuki hisses, flinging the menu down. “great, now we’re going to have to flag down one of the shithead waiters and ask for a japanese menu. excuse me! hey! yeah, i’m talking to- what the hell, did he just blow me off? hey, jackass! you with the shitty mustache!”

“sorry about that,” todoroki interjects, when mustache asshole turns an offended stare their way. “do you have the japanese menu?”

“we only serve the food in its authentic form,” mustachioed asshole says, with frigid self-satisfaction. “might i suggest google translate?”

“might i suggest my foot up your ass, you shitty-”

“that’s fine,” todoroki says, in a flat tone that implies otherwise. “we’ll make do.”

the waiter sniffs pretentiously as katsuki thinks about all the ways she could beat his ass into next tuesday, running an aggravated hand through her hair when the wind rustles it into her face. she’d half expect todoroki to suggest they fuck off elsewhere, but when she looks back her way she finds an ill-boding gleam of determination in her eyes despite the impassive set to her face, and it’s a testament to how fucked in the head ua has made katsuki that she feels a sort of sick thrill of recognition at the sight. todoroki’s in stubborn bitch mode.

“i’ll have this,” todoroki says, sure enough, pointing to the most expensive item on the menu. “and also this. and one of those.”

the waiter’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull, and todoroki looks unfazed in katsuki’s direction, tapping pointedly at a sleek black and red credit card in her wallet. “bakugou?”

well, if endeavour’s paying....

“sure,” katsuki says, slowly, and then turns her meanest smile the waiter’s way. “i want the frog legs.”

mustache clears his throat, attempts condescension. “we don’t serve that here.”

“you’re a gastronomique restaurant,” katsuki says very loudly, as other clients turn to stare, “and you don’t have fucking frog legs? is this a joke? does this napkin say authentic french cuisine or am i hallucinating?”

“i can ask the chef,” the waiter demurs, casting a nervous glance at the muttering snobs nearby, and attempts an ingratiating smile. “anything else for you, mademoiselle?”

“what did you just call me?”

once the ordering debacle is over, todoroki slants katsuki what may well be an apologetic glance, vaguely contrite frown sitting pretty atop her usual dead-eyed stare.

“i probably should have read up on the place ahead of time.”

katsuki is well within her rights to chew her head off, she thinks, but food’s on the way and she got to yell at the asshole who gave her the once-over when she came in, so she’s feeling forgiving, even in the face of todoroki’s annoyingly doll-faced apology. the bitch really has to do the bare minimum and she looks like a fucking kpop idol.

“yeah, whatever. i always knew you were a shitty ops planner.”

todoroki, who is an asshole, looks relieved at her generous forgiveness for all of a second before she quirks a brow. “between the two of us, i only count one person who has actually spoken the words ‘shoot first, ask questions later’.”

“that was in a training simulation,” katsuki protests, outraged. “and you know damn well the actors were annoying as shit!”

“i did find them slightly too committed to the role,” todoroki concedes neutrally, which totally means she agrees with katsuki 100% and is being precious about it. katsuki scoffs.

“least the view’s decent.”

“the-“ todoroki starts, in weirdly confused tones, until she follows katsuki’s gaze outward and nods in understanding. “oh, the skyline. yes.”

what else katsuki could have meant she doesn’t fucking know: they’re sitting pretty in the middle of tokyo. the only thing the hellhole of a restaurant has going for it at this point is the cityscape.

todoroki stares out into the distance for a good long moment, and with the breeze her negligently loose hair whips this way and that, red and white blur where the two halves mingle. instinctively katsuki itches to braid it flat so it doesn’t tangle. if todoroki asked her she’d tell her to just cut her damn hair into a bob or something- it’s not like icyhot has any attachment to her princess hair, and she’s got the obnoxious bone structure to pull off any length. not that she’d mention this last part. or that she’s given it much thought. it’s just fucking obvious.

if todoroki could keep her mouth shut throughout the rest of the meal, it could be sort of nice. tokyo skyline, and companionable silence, and presumably edible food. worse ways to kill some time, and way less incriminating than anything that may be said otherwise.

“i think this is the part where we make small talk,” todoroki says instead, sadist that she definitely is, as katsuki grimaces feelingly her way.

“no, we don’t.”

“well, we don’t. but this is the part where we should.”

“i don’t even believe you can last a minute of small talk, icyhot.”

todoroki looks pensive, mismatched eyes thoughtful. “...how has your day been?”

“uneventful,” katsuki says, combative, and eyes her watch. todoroki does not give.

“this place seems nice.”

“you don’t even think that.”

“how have you been finding tokyo?”

“noisy.”

“the weather seems-”

“no.”

“you look nice.”

“you said that already, dumbass,” katsuki grunts, palms crackling with sweat, and does not at all read into the way todoroki makes a stupid little movement with her mouth that could ungenerously be interpreted as a pout.

“well, i meant it, so i’m saying it twice.”

“give it up, half ‘n half, just ask me about training.”

“...how is your training?”

“i did this thing yesterday,” katsuki starts, leaning back in her chair, and from then launches into a very technical and barely exaggerated retelling of the batshit insane stunt she pulled off with her quirk the day prior. todoroki’s focused attention is gratifying, in a totally platonic non-weird way- it’s just that her parents couldn’t very well follow why exactly said stunt was as insane as it is, but todoroki obviously can, and also there’s that thing with todoroki where pulling a reaction out of her ice queen act is admittedly more satisfying than most people. it has jack shit to do with the fact katsuki’s got a very minor complex about todoroki paying her her dues, and even if it did then that’s entirely fucking reasonable considering she still hasn’t forgiven her for the sports fest incident. 

it is a little weird having todoroki’s sole focus on her outside of hero shit, though. it’s not like they really hang out one on one outside of school or work. it’s kind of- unnerving. yeah. unnerving, to be making prolonged eye contact, todoroki’s expression intent but not intense the way she gets in fight scenarios, frowning lightly because she has resting bitch face but apparently genuinely interested. it’s kind of a relief that todoroki asks questions- moves them safely into a conversation, so katsuki’s not just sitting there talking and sort of dry-throated. fucking waiter, leaving them water-less.

it’s fine. they talk about training, and quirks, and then todoroki pushes her hair behind her ears and leans forward to demonstrate on a small scale this thing she’s trying to do where she melts her ice and refreezes it in rapid succession so it causes what is essentially ice rain, but there’s logistics and shit that need to be worked out for it to work the way she’s thinking it might, and katsuki knows her thermal shit so they start scrawling maths over the napkins, and then bicker over the finer points of first year chemistry, so when the food actually arrives to interrupt them todoroki’s startled blink is weirdly relatable, like she also forgot where they were.

the waiter’s there and gone before they’re really recovered from the brief misplacement, which katsuki registers only when she looks down at her empty glass.

“goddamnit- how hard is it to bring us water?”

“they only offer sparkling,” todoroki says, gravely, then outpaces katsuki’s disgust by placing her hand over her glass, ice rising before she switches hands and melts it down. “tell me if the temperature’s off.”

intensely mollified and trying not to look it, katsuki sips it. “’s fine.”

“okay,” todoroki says, faintly pleased, and tilts her head to look down at her food. “i have no idea what any of this is.”

“moron,” katsuki snorts, except it comes out way fonder than it has any rights to, and from beneath the convenient curtain of hair todoroki’s smiling a little, so she hastily stabs a frog leg and gets to eating before anyone gets any ideas.

the actual meal goes okay-ish. most of the stuff todoroki ordered is extremely pretentious french cuisine, and todoroki secretly has the culinary adventurousness of a five year old, so it befalls katsuki to impatiently attempt every dish and pronounce it edible before todoroki will deign to brave it. she’s still trying to bully an unyielding todoroki into attempting the weird bird soup thing when there’s commotion nearby. it takes the both of them approximately three seconds to spring into work-mode; katsuki’s on her feet poised for a fight before she’s even consciously thought about it, scanning her peripherals, and she doesn’t even need to look to feel todoroki unconsciously covering her back, cool sting of air signalling her quirk at the ready. 

the commotion turns out just to be some old dumbass choking, relaxing them both out of their stances as she falls back to let todoroki ahead. they’re both uber-qualified for first aid shit, but she’s self-aware enough to know even todoroki’s bland reassurances are usually preferred to her bedside manner. unfortunately, the whole entourage seems to be braindead, because they’re all crowding the old guy in a panic while he chokes, his wife in shrieking hysterics.

“oh, my god, he’s choking! he’s choking! sugar-plum, stay with me!”

“fuck me,” katsuki mutters, unethically thinking that she would personally prefer choking to being married to someone who calls her sugar-plum, but todoroki’s pushing ahead with implacable calm, so she trudges after her anyways.

“excuse me. excuse me. i need access to your husband.”

“who are you? don’t touch him! help! get this woman off my husband!” wailing hysteric yells, bosom heaving dramatically. katsuki is starting to suspect she poisoned him on purpose or some shit, because no way does anyone talk like that in real life.

“she’s a fucking qualified first aid provider, lady, shut up and let her through!”

thankfully, the woman seems on the verge of an outrage aneurysm, which drags her focus away from suffocating her choking husband to dramatically pointing at katsuki long enough for todoroki to duck past her and reach the guy as he turns purple.

“how dare you speak to me that way? who do you think you are?”

“ma,” chinless moron number one says, clearing his throat. “i think that’s one of those future pros from TV.”

“what?”

“you know, ma,” chinless moron number two adds, glancing nervously between them. “the one that explodes things. you know. from UA.”

katsuki takes great pleasure in watching recognition dawn in the old cow’s beady eyes, but in any event there’s a hacking noise and then the old man’s coughing out a bone into his plate as todoroki steps noiselessly back from the table.

“he’s fine now. enjoy your dinner.”

“god, that was gross,” katsuki says, as they ignore the woman’s sputtering and return to their seats. todoroki tilts her head. 

“not really. if he’d thrown up it would have been.”

“not the choking guy,” katsuki scoffs, casting a glance back his way. “his wife. talk about theatrics.”

“she seemed more afraid of us than her husband dying.”

“for good reason,” katsuki mutters darkly, spreading out in her chair. “i hate civilians.”

“i don’t think she recognised us,” todoroki counters, pensive, and absent-mindedly takes a bite of the weird soup before she screws her face up like a betrayed kid. “oh. you didn’t say it was sweet.”

the look on her face thoroughly distracts katsuki from asking what other reason the pearl-clutcher could possibly have to be so terrified at the mere sight of them; instead, she chokes back a laugh, stifling a grin. “what are you, five?”

“i don’t think i like this,” todoroki says, mournful, which makes katsuki grin harder. she can’t help it- todoroki looking stupid is her kryptonite. 

“then don’t pick a restaurant where you can’t read the menu, next time.”

todoroki’s midway to looking up, but for some reason her expression transforms instantaneously, which makes katsuki reflexively try to quash her amusement. todoroki always gets weird when she’s smiling. 

“next time?”

motherfuck. obviously she didn’t mean next time like next time, she meant next time like- hypothetically, in the future, when todoroki’s on a lunch date with someone else. a lunch non-date. she’s just about stopped sputtering furiously long enough to try and express this sentiment when it occurs to her that todoroki seems- pleased, one eye soft sky-blue when katsuki accidentally meets it, and that draws her up short long enough that she ends up just muttering lamely to herself. fucking todoroki. 

on the heels of this utter embarrassment, she downs the rest of her water, scowls in a neat 180 at everything in sight, and wonders for the first time in her life how the fuck extras get through dates. not that this is one.

it’s fine. they’re done eating, and no one’s died, and katsuki is no longer fifteen and thus mostly trusts her ego to lick its wounds and recover from the ordeal. even if they stick around for desert that’s only another half hour of this to endure. as long as todoroki doesn’t make any sudden moves they’ll be fine.

...the problem is, of course, that sudden moves are todoroki’s modus operandi. katsuki has not forgotten the bitch calling them friends on national television in the same breath that she was vociferously denying them being anything of the sort. in todoroki’s fucked up brain, they’re always ten steps ahead of whatever they actually are- considering katsuki’s come around to privately acknowledging she’d take a couple more stakes through the gut for the asshole, in todoroki’s world they're practically hitched.

platonically. platonically practically hitched. this is not a thing, goddamnit. no matter the weird looks aizawa’s been giving them, or utsushimi’s nefarious schemes, or the alarming cardiopulmonary condition katsuki’s been developing of late. she’s not some shitty yuri protagonist pining over the nearest female bishōnen in her vicinity.

admittedly if she was to pine over anyone it sure as fuck wouldn’t be some guy, but that’s besides the point, since pretty damn near every person on earth is just some guy by her standards, regardless of gender. the fact that todoroki is not one of said people is entirely irrelevant.

her internal irritation is so distracting that she misses the tremors nearby until entirely too late, by which point todoroki’s stupidly perfect brows raise an incremental fraction and she goes: ‘oh’.

when todoroki goes ‘oh’, some shit is about to go down. 

katsuki turns slowly with an impending sense of doom, and sure enough, the sight that greets her is so nightmarish she seriously reconsiders whether the entire day has been just that. 

“don’t freak out,” a giant building-sized deku booms, apologetically, as his hideous giant face stares at them. “it’s just a quirk thing.”

it’s probably a good thing katsuki has gone speechless with outrage, since it permits todoroki’s constantly composed ass to ask useful questions katsuki probably would have coated in a fair amount more threats and cursing.

“midoriya. i didn’t know you were in tokyo.”

“well, i wasn’t meant to be,” deku says/booms like a foghorn, as the restaurant clientele shrieks and stampedes behind them. his sheepish expression is even more punchable when magnified. “it’s a long story. it’s almost sorted out now, though. i just saw you guys from over at the NPA office and thought i’d come ask if you maybe wouldn’t mind lending a hand? i wouldn’t ask but there’s going to be a lot of cleanup and your quirks would be really helpful to-”

“we’ll do it as long as you shut the fuck up,” katsuki yells, to cut him off, massaging her temples. “the monologuing’s bad enough when you’re not about to burst my fucking eardrums, jackass.”

“oh, sorry! i’m trying to be very quiet but this body’s just hard to get used to- thank you so much for helping, i didn’t mean to come bother you on break...”

“it’s fine,” todoroki says, and then seems to realise that her monotone doesn’t reach midoriya’s giant-ass ears and clears her throat, raising her voice to a shout. “it’s fine. let me go deal with the bill and then we’ll go.”

“sorry?” midoriya whisper-shouts, craning his monstrous head closer to them, the sight of which will haunt katsuki for the rest of her life. “i can’t hear what you’re saying!”

“she said she’s going to go pay for our nice fucking lunch,” katsuki hollers, with no small sense of satisfaction, as deku winces and todoroki slinks off. “since you want to come crashing it like a dipshit.”

“sorry, kacchan!” deku begs off, flapping hand gestures creating enough wind to knock over a nearby umbrella stand. “i just thought it would be a lot of help if you came to oversee the fall-out- especially with the building damage-”

“we’re good,” todoroki announces, to katsuki, apparently having given up on matching her in decibels. she’s got that classic hero look on her face, already in work mode, but just when katsuki’s about to do the same and jump into action, the look wavers a little and she frowns vaguely awkwardly. “thanks for doing lunch.”

“huh?” katsuki stutters, thrown, and then scowls at nothing in particular, stalling. todoroki’s the one who paid, albeit indirectly- it’s typically weird of her to be all formal about it all of a sudden, leaving katsuki to attempt to wriggle them out of the awkwardness of the moment. “i didn’t do shit except show up and eat, weirdo.”

“it’s been abnormally hard to show up and eat in the circumstances,” todoroki replies, a little wryly, and more concerningly a little resigned sounding. which is just unnatural, because todoroki may have expanded her range of emotions considerably since first year but resignation is not on her usual roster, and there’s nothing to be resigned about unless she had some kind of vested interest in this whole fiasco playing out any better than it did.

which she didn’t, obviously. katsuki’s been through this. she chose the nearest possible venue and rocked up in jeans and a t-shirt, and- and why is the fact that todoroki never dresses so normally out of class only now occurring to her, again?

she’d said ‘i think this is the part where we do small talk’. the part of what?

“yeah, whatever,” katsuki says, automatically, as her brain plays catch-up, which is the excuse she will forever stick to for what leaves her mouth next. “should have known you’d be a lousy date.”

todoroki goes ‘what?’ at the same moment deku does, ten times louder and more bug-eyed, which reminds katsuki that 1) deku is still there, 2) deku is still as big as his martyr complex, and 3) deku is the fucking worst, and allowing him to trap her into friendship is somehow responsible for this, she’s sure of it. 

“can we go handle this fucking mess or what?” katsuki snaps, instead of screaming or breaking deku’s very large nose or maybe self-immolating in abject humiliation, hands erupting into explosions as she jumps onto the balcony railing. maybe if she throws herself headfirst into the debris she’ll concuss herself and turn amnesiac. 

“um,” deku is saying, when she turns a withering glare his way. “um, yes! yes! yeah! let’s go do that!”

so she jumps skywards, explosions blasting her high into the air, and very scrupulously does not look towards the sounds of slick ice forming just behind her until todoroki skates into her peripheral vision, hair waving flag-like behind her. ahead there’s a building with a crater clean through it where deku must have erupted from, though when she turns to comment she finds him a fair deal behind them, lumbering pace slowed further as he avoids stepping on anyone or anything along the streets. instead her eyes lock on todoroki’s where the latter is staring at her, face unreadable, and she bristles hard enough to disrupt trajectory, correcting course rapidly before she plummets into an office.

“what?”

“i’m a lousy date,” todoroki repeats, neutrally, over the wind. katsuki grits her teeth.

“and what about it?”

she’s bracing for a lot, but not the horrible, sickening eye-crinkle thing todoroki does, dark eye twinkling even as her expression stays carefully impassive. “you think you can do better, then?”

“hah?”

“next time,” todoroki intones, very precisely, and then dips ahead like a complete coward as katsuki goes a color never previously visible to the human eye, sifting through about fifteen emotions before she decides to stick to outrage.

“what the hell? you suck at asking people out, icyhot!”

“you don’t have to say yes.”

“what, you think i can’t do better than this mess? you’re on, asshole.”

“i look forward to it,” todoroki says, gravely, and then there’s a collapsed building to handle and shit to do and if anyone wants to ask why katsuki is so especially gleeful in blowing shit up they wisely keep their mouths shut. she just likes the job, all right.

(for the record, it’s still not a date until katsuki says it is.)

#qui repond #qui ecrit #anon #prompts #tdbk #todobaku #fem todobaku #fem todo #fem baku

[electricbluebutterflies]

Nina/Mattias + fight sex but they’re idly bickering about something that doesn’t matter very much

Canon-divergent / the little adventure up in frozen hell took long enough for this dynamic to develop (because what even is a timeline and I have no clue how long it actually was on the show). Also, for plot purposes and context, this does make use of my belief that everyone is just SLIGHTLY aged up on the show and in my head most of the main lineup is 20ish. Oh, and first time writing these babes so fingers crossed I got characterization okay. Obviously NSFWish ahead, a little more graphic than I’ve written in a while and also involves a First Time...

He’s keeping the third blanket from her.

It is, objectively, the most petty Nina has felt since the whole almost-dying thing happened, maybe even since the getting-captured bit. Trying to get under his skin, trying to handle the daily shifting of their dynamic, has been almost as exhausting as trying to stay alive. Which in itself is enough of a challenge, because somehow they are lost and whenever Nina gets back to civilization she is going to have so many comments about Druskelle navigational instincts or the apparent total lack thereof. So. Many. Comments. The moment she has a possibly appreciative audience, because she is not wasting her breath on that here right now and-

At least tonight they’re in some kind of fishing shack again, clear space to build a fire and a pile of blankets of various questionable quality. There have been nights they haven’t been so lucky. She’s saving her energy for where it matters. But on the other hand, she is a delicate fragile creature who has made a point of avoiding this sort of climate, and…

Mathias still has the third blanket, and the fire is going well enough that they objectively can stay on opposite sides of this space, and Nina decides it’s time to change the game.

He’s pretty, okay? He’s annoying and stubborn and honestly at this point him technically being The Enemy is relatively low on the list of reasons he’s stomping on her every last nerve, but the man has two things in his favor – he’s loyal, and he is very nice to look at. Nina does not historically have the attention span when it comes to that level of pretty, but this one has decided to make it difficult for her. Like, he can say up and down that he does not want her, but they’ve shared a sleep-space – “bed” is too nice a word for most of those situations – for a week or so and she doesn’t need words, she knows what she wakes up to.

And she knows how damn respectful he is, she thinks as she starts undoing her vest buttons. This outfit, while very cute two weeks ago before her entire life took a very undesired detour, was not made for seduction. But if she does it slow enough, she hopes she won’t set him off. The other time she had to deal with that element of things, he was polite and turned his back even though she didn’t ask him to, and she assumes the same will happen here and she’ll get nowhere and-

Okay, fine, it’s not like taking off her vest reveals anything outright explicit. The current light makes her shirt a little more see-through than it’s meant to be, but still. She is about as decent as she ever gets.

“What are you doing?” he asks, tone about as calm as she’s ever heard him.

“You do not need two blankets,” Nina counters. “I want.”

And oh does that phrase cover more than his little Fjerdan mind has probably ever thought of. All those comments he’s made about assuming she’s trying to seduce him? Yeah, hasn’t been the main goal yet but she’s thought about it. Seeing what she could do to him – she does not expect he’d take any initiative there, highly doubts he’s ever even kissed anyone – would not be the worst way to spend an evening. So, that’s part of the plan now. Make him squirm, get on top of him, and take her prize. Should be easy.

As if to prove her point, she starts loosening the laces of her shirt just enough to easily take it off. She hadn’t bothered to wear anything under it, another brilliant idea proving that two-weeks-ago Nina had questionable judgment in all things, and it is all too easy to push it up over her shoulders and off her arms and…

He’s still watching. He looks wide-eyed and possibly concussed, but he’s still watching.

If Nina were a different sort of person, and probably also if she had gotten laid within the past six months (for the record it has been eight and that cute little bartender with the long nails was a way better lover than she was an informant), she would cross her arms over her breasts and stop here and wait for whatever protective instincts Mathias has to kick in. Even given what she’s just done, she looks vulnerable and cute enough to wake him up like that, and-

“What are you doing?” he asks again, this time more hostile. Good. When he’s frustrated his voice gets all growly, and that does things to her, and-

“Can we get this over with?”

“This?”

“The part where we have questionable hatesex that I will forget ever happened within the next year and you will remember for the rest of your life because whatever little creature gets stuck with you someday will not fuck you like I want to.”

For a moment, she’s pretty sure she broke him. This is definitely not about the blanket anymore, and-

“I. Don’t. Hate. You.”

Nina laughs. “Yeah well you are deeper in denial than anybody I’ve ever met. I am everything that scares you and you are stuck with me and I’m not sure which part of your code I do not violate but I am sure you would’ve-”

“You saved my life. I owe you everything.”

“Cute. Obligation. Great reason to put up with someone but still do everything you can to drag your feet about it.”

“Why do you… want me?” He sounds all hesitant, and good grief has nobody ever told this man what he looks like? Or do all of his people look that good at that age… that’s plausible enough…

“Limited options right now. It’s you or my hand and you’re warmer.”

She is not sure what she’s expecting beyond not what he actually does.

Fine, so she’s been good and hasn’t looked more than she had to when he’s been in a state of undress. Watching him strip right now, layers of leathers and furs that are apparently frightfully easy to take off, is different. He is wanting her to watch, keeping his eyes on her the whole time until he is completely naked in front of her and… she can’t help licking her lips, he is pretty and she wants all of that all over her. Now.

“This or your hand,” he repeats in a way that suggests that at least she probably won’t have to explain the general patterns of female masturbation to him. “Make your choice.”

She about tackles him.

He’s built like a damn tree, Nina reminds herself in the process. Solid enough to handle her attempt at literally jumping him, which doesn’t exactly work but does throw off his balance for a moment, and she gets him pulled down for a bitey kiss. He has just a little bit of scruff now and she’d wanna see what that feels like between her legs but also she is pretty sure Fjerdan men do not do that and she doesn’t want to completely wreck him in one go, and while she still suspects all of this is new to him, he has good instincts.

Her skirt and underwear are feeling like too much of an undesired obstacle, so she undoes them with her free hand while trying to stick her tongue down his throat. So she’s a little aggressive, whatever, he’s clearly into it and nobody gets hurt by it.

“What do you need me to do,” he breathes, and oh he can admit being clueless, this is a treasure, this is-

She grabs his wrist and puts his hand between her thighs. “Poke around until you like the noises I’m making.”

Mathias has good hands. She’s known this for several days now, but it is a different thing to know it with one of said hands exploring her soft parts. She feels a fingertip inside her then quickly pulled back, another batting her clit back and forth with uncertainty. Then the finger inside her is back, and she knows how wet she is, and-

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs.

“That’s why I’m leading. I’m not giving you the chance.”

But he couldn’t hurt her like this, she thinks. Not with his hands prepping her and a second finger up inside her and accidentally finding her sensitive spot, not with his prick hard against her belly, not with his mouth taking kisses as he learns what he likes. There is something inherently good in him and she worries for a moment that what they are about to do will break it, and yet-

“Get on your back,” she orders. Easier for both of them if she leads, she reminds herself.

He does without any complaint, and she takes a moment to enjoy the view. The solidness of him, for the next few minutes all hers. Would any of the girls he might get stuck with back home be able to handle this? And the way he’s looking up at her, a scared but willing participant in whatever she decides to do. Maybe he’s right. Maybe hatesex is the wrong word.

She straddles him, knees around his hips, and drops.

Blame the dry spell. Blame the absolute weirdness of the situation. Blame the fact that she is tired and hungry and cold. None of that matters. He feels good inside her and she makes a noise she cannot describe and-

“Am I…?”

“No. Feels good.”

She rolls her hips against his to prove a point, works him even deeper into her and leans down for more kisses. She can taste the shock and the innocence of him. This isn’t how he thought his first time would go, she is sure of it now, and yet he is allowing her and-

His hips jerk up and she makes a shocked little noise. “Do that again.”

He does, and she continues her pattern, and… it’s good, on her side. Not the best sex she’s ever had, but his hesitance is useful enough. She doesn’t trust him to say if he’s getting close, so she stays focused on his face, looking for signs, looking for-

She shifts her angle just a little bit, his prick hits the right spot inside her harder than she expects, and she shatters.

As she comes down, she sees that his expression has turned to something worse, scared and worried and unable to speak. He’s still hard inside her, at least, but he is motionless and cold and she doesn’t-

“Did I hurt you?”

Nina laughs. She shouldn’t, this is a legitimately valid question, but-

“No. What you just did felt amazing. Your turn.”

She resumes rolling her hips against his to indicate the conversation is over and she does not want to explain herself, and a few clenches of her inner walls later he spills inside her. It’s a beautiful thing to experience, the sudden warmth overlapping with the strangled gasp of surprise and-

“You know this means I have to marry you,” he says when he’s capable of coherent thought. “If there’s any chance…”

She shifts position so their bodies are no longer connected. “No. It doesn’t.”

“But I…”

“We’re too different,” she murmurs. “You know that. There’s nowhere safe. If anything… if the worst happens, I’ll lie.”

“Honor is honor. If there is even a chance-“

And oh, for a moment she wants it too. For a moment, she lets herself think about the impossibility of being all that she could be, both Grisha and wife, not forced to choose between her complexities. Unrealistic, she knows, a flighty daydream at best but she wants all the same.

“Nothing to worry about. My last cycle finished three days before your people tried to kill me, so… right now I can’t get pregnant.”

“Still. If it happened… I would stand by you.”

She kisses his face, covers the angles of him in wet kisses. “Good to know.”

#pixievixen #helnik #nina x mathias #ebf writes fic

[rockteller]

Well, yashahime it's not really canon because rumiko herself said she considered sessh and rin relationship as parental, as a parent/child or parental guardian/child relationship. You don't go and agree to make your character a pedophile fucking the character you wrote to be like her daughter/protegee child

Oh Anon, you just got the WRONG Tumblr here, so let me answer right away... NO.

Rumiko Takahashi called Sesshomaru a “protector”. “Protector” is a person who protect someone he/she care about, it’s not a synonymous for “legal guardian” or “father”. I do not know what your first lenguage is, since obviously is not english, but really, try to learn the basics. Sesshomaru always protected Rin, he always cared for her, always let her free to make her own choices. Literally, his attitude was “Rin, you’re free to do as you wish. Off i go.” What kind of father does that??

And more over, in which point of the story Sesshomaru striked you to be the kind of demon who think “This little human girl was kind to me, so i will be kind to her and pretend to be her dad.” Do we look at the same Sesshomaru? This RELATIONSHIP is perfectly okay. (And canon, yep!) Rin was considered an adult in the feudal era, you do not have to be a history teacher to know that in ALL the world, centuries ago, girls were bound to marry at a very early stage in life. In this case Rin and Sesshomaru love each other. Good for them! I have also to remind you that we are talking about a demon living in a fantasy world build in feudal era, you can’t judge that like you would judge a movie set in 2021.

Learn to contextualize and to express your opionion in a civil manner, if you can’t speak in a normal and decent way without talking gibberish and cursing do not bother to write on my tumblr again. Bye.

#sessrin #hanyou no yashahime #hanyo no yashahime #rin #sesshomaru #sesshomaru x rin #rumiko takahashi #towa #setsuna

[johnkrrasinski]

No Light, Dead End; 

full masterlist

Pairings: Steve Rogers x female!reader

Word count: 2,812

Warning: SMUT!!!! slight dub-con. slight dark!steve but with feelingsᵀᴹ.

Summary: takes place after civil war and before infinity war because who is she? we don’t know her. after the avengers were divided due to the accords, you went on the run with steve, natasha and sam. during on the run, your relationship with steve had been going through a rough patch until one day, you decided to leave him. but he made sure that you knew who you belong to. 

a/n: this one is for @mariessecretfantasies​‘ 500 follower writing challenge! i chose prompt #8 ““No light, no light in your bright blue eyes. I never knew daylight could be so violent.” No Light, No Light- Florence + the Machine” i wanted to write something anguish but with a hint of darkness, just enough to spice it up. cause we all love possessive, slightly crazy steve, right? 😌 please leave a like & comment! enjoy. 

You stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door behind you. You just had another quarrel with your grouchy boyfriend, Steve. He wasn’t always like this though. He used to be the heroic face of America after all… Used to be. He was a man with perseverance, sagacity, and altruism. All his life, he wanted nothing but to help others. To serve his country. But all that changed since the Accords.

The whole country decided to turn its back on their favorite golden boy aka Captain America. The man they used to look up to and call out for when miscreants exterminated the city and when aliens invaded the planet.

He was a man with assertive morals, never doubting his purpose and his will. And the whole world agreed. Until his best friend, Bucky Barnes was accused of the bombing of the UN in Vienna and was shortly located where he had been hiding for the past couple of years.

Steve Rogers had faith in his former best friend who could barely remember him when he said that he wasn’t the one who committed the crime. But the whole country didn’t. And so, through all the battle at the airport in Germany, and the unauthorized flight to Siberia and the grievous alteration of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes to a group of wanted felons, you stuck and stayed with him.

You had faith in the man you fell in love with a year ago and you knew his true heart. That deep down, no matter what the world paints him to be, you will always believe that he was still the same selfless hero. A battered soldier with nothing but pure intentions. He had lost so much in his stolen lifetime, so you understood his desperate wish to keep his best friend alive and out of heavily guarded prison.

And so, after the final battle with Tony Stark in Siberia, Steve and Bucky agreed that it would be best for everyone if Bucky went back to cryostasis chamber until Princess Shuri finds a way to fix him. King T’Challa had made peace with the fact that Zemo was the one who murdered his father, and he realized that Bucky was only a victim just as much as T’Chaka was, so he allowed him to stay in their land and agreed to mend the broken man.

After Bucky was back under the ice, Steve went back to The Raft and reunited with Sam, Wanda, Scott, and Clint, releasing them out of the Arctic prison facility. Whilst, Wanda and Vision agreed to lay low and started a secret life together in Scotland, Clint and Scott went back to their residents under prohibition.

You, Steve, Natasha, and Sam on the other hand, went on a run, as a group of uncivilized nomads, living in crummy motels and working vigilante jobs in the dark. You changed your looks and camouflaged within the crowds. And this was the turning point.

Your relationship with Steve hadn’t been the same since the fallout. He became rougher around the edges, sterner, and crueler. Some days, you couldn’t even remember what his genuine smile looked like anymore. How his eyes used to gleam so brightly, you could see your lucid reflection on them. How he’d hold you so tightly, you felt nothing but his warmth after he passionately made love to you for hours.

How did you get here? You had lost count of how many times you had fought with Steve Rogers. Small sparks of fire growing into a massive one, burning the entire house down. You could feel the heat all over the room when his voice roars so loud and your words cracked through your lips due to the unwanted tears threatening to fall.

Hurtful words were tossed, if the walls could talk, they’d tell you the lunacy that echoed night and day when you and Steve are going at it. You two were crazy, mad people in love. Or at least you used to be. Not only him who changed after the Accords, but so did you. You became more reticent, more practical, and more indignant.

Whenever you were on stealthy missions, Steve would always order you around like you were nothing but a fellow soldier. He’d talk down on you like there was no history between you when you disagree with him. Whenever you made the slightest mistake, he’d deprecate you like you were a delinquent, untamed child.

Sam and Natasha were aware of the lingering tension in the room when you two were on bad terms, but they didn’t know how excruciating it could get behind closed doors. Whenever you stared into his electric blue eyes, you didn’t find the same vivacity or earnestness anymore. All you sensed was rage and darkness.

Darkness so steep and hollow, that sometimes you’d find yourself getting lost and trapped in them. Like he could devour you and crush you by a single fist of his palm. Deep down, you wanted to get your Steve back. The considerate and faithful man you fell in love with. The man who would bring you flowers from his morning run because they just reminded him of you. The man who would kiss your shoulders in the morning to gently wake you up, because he didn’t have the heart to disturb your peaceful state, but he needed to hear your voice.

Often times, you’d wonder if it was still possible to go back to the way you used to be. But he had been so hardened by the arduous circumstances now, that it sounds like a fairytale if you could go more than 5 minutes to have a decent conversation.

“Fuck you, Steve! You don’t fucking get to tell me what to do, you hear me?”

“Yes, I do! I’m your Captain. Watch your language.”

“I don’t fucking care. You are not the Captain anymore. You ungrateful asshole! I can’t believe I stuck with you after you became a criminal. You don’t fucking deserve it. You don’t fucking deserve me.”

“What are you gonna do, sweetheart? You’re gonna run back to the compound and sign the Accords? Well, guess what? The first thing they’re gonna do as soon as you show your pretty little face, is they’d cuff you up. And when they lock you up in the Raft, I’m not going back to save you ass.”

“I don’t fucking need you to. I’d rather be locked up in the middle of the Atlantic ocean rather than spending one more goddamn second with your grumpy, irritating ass.”

He stayed silent. His back was to you now. His shoulder slumped as he leaned his hands on the table. He listened to your hasty movements as you stormed into the bedroom that you hadn’t shared in a while. Since you two had been at each other’s throats nearly every day, he’d sleep on the couch while you get the bed.

The truth is, Steve still loved you just as deeply. But things had changed, and he couldn’t pretend that everything was okay just because he was still madly in love with you. He had to be tougher now, he constantly had to watch his back. He couldn’t afford to be distracted even for just one second when the whole world was looking for him and the entire country wanted him penalized.

He also had to be hard on you, because you knew that if any of you let your guard down, you’d be doomed. You could be caught. Or worse, you could be killed. Not only the villains who wanted you dead now… Thaddeus Ross had made it clear that if it’s necessary, he wouldn’t hesitate on shooting any of you on sight.

So he tried to forget the man that he was, stripped himself out of the Captain America mantle, and lived as Nomad now. He was fine with that, although it took him a while to get used to the slummy hotel rooms or sometimes, abandoned safe houses. And Nomads don’t maintain a lovey-dovey relationship and kiss each other dearly while cleaning each other off in the shower.

No, Nomads creep in the shadow and have each other’s backs in combats. Even if it means one of them had to be the meaner guy. As long as his allies were safe and returned in one piece, then that’s all that matters. He couldn’t care any less if they no longer liked him as a comrade.

And the thought of losing you terrified the shit out of his soul. The kind that he couldn’t shake away because somewhere, deep down, he knew it was inevitable. This line of work didn’t promise him safety insurance. Literally and figuratively, now that he was no longer claimed by the government or the Avengers.

So if talking to you as if you were nothing but a fellow soldier will remind you that you both no longer had the luxury to plan your next date night or cuddle in the sheets at night to keep each other warm, then he was going to do what’s necessary.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear you pack up your bags and stepped out of the room with your travel bag in your shoulder. You didn’t have that many personal belongings anyway. When he stole the Quinjet, you couldn’t go back to the compound to pack up all of your stuff and say your farewell to the rest who stayed, so along the way, you bought just enough clothes to have something to wear other than your battle gear. So most of your things were left in the compound, just like the entire journey over 5 years with the Avengers.

Steve and you had said a lot of things neither of you really meant when things were heated up, but he could live with that as long as you were safe and he could keep an eye on you. He’d let you have your moment of tranquility, knowing that when daylight comes, you’ll have to fight another day and bleed.

He thought that tonight was just another night where you two claw each other’s skin but would act as if nothing happened last night in front of Sam and Natasha. You had threatened to leave more times than he could count but you never did it. Just like the rest of the things you said. Meaningless contempt.

But this time, you were out of your mind. You really could be such a force to be reckoned with sometimes. That’s why he fell in love with you in the first place, but it would often drive him crazy too. And not the good kind.

He turned around and saw you sprinting toward the door. You were dressed in all black; black jacket, black shirt, black jeans, and black sneakers. He was confused at what you were doing but he maintained his calm posture and stayed in the same spot where he had been standing, with his hands on his hips.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“I’m leaving. I can’t spend one more goddamn second with you. I’m done.”

Steve didn’t even try to hide his panic. He really thought you were joking or maybe you were going somewhere to calm your head, then you’d come back. But no, you were really leaving this time.

“Hey, hey! Don’t be fucking ridiculous. You are not going anywhere.”

“Yes, I am. And you can’t stop me.”

“Stop acting stupid and just calm down for a sec.” He reached out for you but you flinched, not wanting to hear any more of his bollocks.

“Get your fucking hands off me, Steve. Before I break every single one of your fingers.” You swatted his hand.

Suddenly, his demeanor changed. You saw it in his eyes, the flash of that shift. The one that you had been seeing a lot these days. The alteration from Steve Rogers to Captain America. Or more suitably, America’s Golden Boy to The Most Wanted Criminal. You’d be lying if you weren’t a tad frightened by that darkness in him, but you weren’t going to lay it out on your hands and present it to him. You were no coward.

Rest in peace, to your naive bravado… Your headlessness had backfired.

Steve slammed you into the wall behind you as he grabbed you by the throat, inching his face closer to yours. You could hear his labored breathing, sweeping on your skin, his eyes glared at you, locking you in place.

Your hands immediately went to his, trying to break free out of his tightening grip, cutting off your airway. “S-Steve…” You tried to get him off of you by striking his face, but he still wouldn’t relent. He immediately dragged you to the couch, as you nearly stumbled on your feet.

“You think you can just run and leave me? Stupid girl. Looks like you need a reminder of your place.”

“St- Steve! Stop!” As your back hit the couch. You tried to stand on your feet but was abruptly stopped by his hand on your shoulders, pushing you back down. “Shut the fuck up.” He grabbed your waist as he turned you around, so you were reclined on your chest. His hand immediately went to grab a fistful of your hair as he whispered into your ears, “you really wanna push my limits huh? Riling me up like a stupid little brat, thinking you can get away with it. Hell no. I’m gonna show you the consequences of your foolishness, little girl.”

Then he slammed you back down as he immediately pulled down your pants with your underwear along with it. You thrashed your body, trying to push him away but it was futile. Steve lifted up your hips, so you were standing on your knees. Then you felt a harsh smack on your ass, eliciting a raw yelp out of you. He did it once more, and more, and more, until your tears started to leak out of the corner of your eyes. You lost your ability to speak, trembling from the excruciating pain.

Just when you thought the torment was over, you heard the clank of his buckle as you instantly turned around to see what he was doing. The hastened glance was enough to verify your fear. You immediately pushed yourself on your hands and attempted to get up but you couldn’t as he quickly pushed you back down with his massive hand and held you there. His other hand went to his cock as he lined himself up to your entrance, intruding your body violently without any warning.

His hand that was on your back, went to your other hand along with the other, to pin them behind your back as strictly as a cuff. Then he began to drive his hips into you until he was fully seated. He groaned due to the pleasure. He slammed back into you and out. He repeated his motion until you couldn’t help but feel the tightening coil inside of you. He startled you in your hazy state with another spank on your ass. You squealed.

“I can feel your cunt tightening around me, little girl. See? I told you you could never leave me. You belong to me. Only I can make you feel this good.” He gritted between his vigorous thrusts. You couldn’t even focus on his mortifying words anymore when you could feel your climax was approaching. You were so close. A few more slams by his hips and then, you fell apart.

You moaned in pleasure as your release was prolonged by his still unrelenting thrusts, attempting to reach his own climax. You closed your eyes in bliss, as you could feel the fight in you had drained. You couldn’t think of anything else or remember the way you ended up being fucked hard on this couch. You were still lying in the same position, with your face pressed on the couch and hands restrained behind your back as you heard Steve groaned from behind you.

You could feel his warm cum unleashed deep inside you as Steve pushed a few shallow thrusts to deplete every drop of semen. When he was completely finished, he pulled out of you and unloose your wrists as he sat on the couch. You were paralyzed. Despite him not holding you down anymore, you still couldn’t find the energy or will in yourself to move or carry on with your plan.

You were too wearied to start any altercation anymore so you just laid there as your eyes started to droop. Before you were completely dazed out, a gravel voice whispered to you like the sound of the wind blowing; subtle but crystal. “I’m not done with you yet, babygirl. I’ve got all night to remind you who you belong to.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers angst #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers imagine #nomad steve rogers #nomad steve #dark!nomad steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers x y/n #dark!steve rogers x female reader #dark steve rogers x fem!reader #dark steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x female!reader #dark!steve rogers x fem!reader #chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans angst #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n

[c-aureus]

How I think Hyrule would respond to Zelda's return, after the end of BotW.

Wall of text incoming.

TL;DR: I think they'd be very cruel.

Please remember that these are all only my interpretations and opinions, and should be treated as such.

A while ago, I made a post saying that I do not believe that Zelda or Link should be in any way 'happy' after the end of BotW. Imo, they've both lost too much for that, and I worry that the sequel will not give this grief or loss the focus it deserves.

Now, I plan to expand on that, by explaining my interpretation for how i believe Hyrule would respond to her after her return, which would only further compound their misery.

Now, I'd like to preface this by saying that I actually like BotW Zelda as a character a lot, and that I'm very sympathetic to her.

However... well.

The consequences of her failure are simply too big to ignore imo.

Firstly, as a general overview: Zelda was the ONLY person capable of stopping Ganon. Without her Divine sealing power, there was simply no way for Hyrule to survive Ganon's assault, no matter the preparations, or skill of the warriors. The best example of this is the Champions and Divine Beasts. They were all the best of the absolute best, and yet none of them were able to survive Ganon's assault, simply because they were not Divinely favoured to succeed, the way that Link and Zelda were. Even despite their incredible skill, prowess and dedication. There are other examples too, notably the fall of Hyrule's military outposts, and the annihilation of central Hyrule's civilisation and infrastructure.

To put it simply, with Zelda's power, they won. Without it, all of the preparations were for naught, and everyone would die. Zelda herself even says as much in a cutscene in AoC.

(Also, as a side note, in all of those levels in AoC where you relieve the Akkala Fortress, Great Plateau, and Hateno fort, remember that in BotW, they all fell, and the soldiers would have been slaughtered.)

So, in light of that...

The fact that Zelda only unlocked her power after it was already too late means that I don't believe that the shattered remnants of Hyrule's civilisation would be kind or sympathetic to her.

Link and Zelda were literally born by divine influence to protect Hyrule from Ganon. And, well...

Again, my point comes down to the fact that Zelda only unlocked her power after it was too late for the Champions, Link, and thousands of other Hyruleans who had either already been killed, or who would later die in the aftermath.

Now, again, I'm HIGHLY sympathetic to Zelda here. Indeed, she had lived her entire life with this Sword of Damocles hanging over her.

However. The sword fell.

And, crucially, Zelda avoided it, whilst it went on to kill literally thousands of others. They all died for Zelda's failure, whilst she herself survived.

Furthermore, those 'lucky' ones who did survive had to live in BotW Hyrule, which, if I'm being honest, is an absolute wasteland. So, so much was lost in the Calamity, the land was overrun by monsters, and even the tiny remaining pockets of civilisation suffer. I could go on for hours about how infrastructure, agriculture and trade were all annihilated, but I'll try to refrain for brevity's sake.

The long and short of it is that Hyrule is fucked.

I think my worry about this comes from BotW's post credit scene where Zelda tells Link that she thinks that if everyone works together, they can rebuild, and make Hyrule better than it was before.

And, this line really annoyed me. Because, quite simply, Hyrule has simply lost too much to rebuild. Infrastructure, agriculture, trade, population... Hyrule would be reeling for generations after Link and Zelda's death. To expect any kind of quick recovery is just... foolish beyond words.

(Another side note: I'm extremely grateful to AoC showing just how developed Hyrule is pre-Calamity. It helps give scale and scope to the devastation in BotW even more.)

So, Zelda's naive optimism here annoyed me. However, far more than that, there is another issue that this overlooks:

Namely, I cannot fathom why anyone in Hyrule would want to follow her, or would accept her as their sovereign.

Now, this is going to get extremely cruel to Zelda, and that saddens me, because I like her. This is just what I think the realistic response would be to her, given the circumstances, because people are cruel and like easy targets of blame. There are many examples of this kind of blaming behaviour in history, if anyone wants to look, lol. So apologies in advance:

BotW tells us through the memories that Zelda's reputation is AWFUL Pre-Calamity. Rhoam says that the people call her 'Heir to a Kingdom of Nothing' etc.

Now, perhaps poor parenting aside, this gives more context. Do you really believe that the 'lucky' few survivors of Central Hyrule would be kind, given that Zelda fulfilled their terrible expectations in the WORST possible manner?

No. I believe that that generation, which already disliked her, would spend the rest of their lives cursing her failure, and the death and destruction that came as a consequence. And, they would pass that down to their children and grandchildren.

This comes to another point: Zelda is (for the most part) out of living memory. The only thing Hyrule knows of her is her failure to prevent the land from being devastated. Furthermore, the 4 tribes of Hyrule might even have a decent cause to blame her for the deaths of the Champions.

(Cause and effect are tricky, but well... people are irrational. Maybe if Zelda had unlocked her power straight away, the Champions still would have died. However, perhaps they could have held on long enough for Link and Zelda to force Ganon to recall his Blights to protect himself, as he does in BotW if you attack him without liberating the Divine Beasts. Who is to say? The point is, people get hung up on these kind of 'what ifs', as I am doing right now, lol.)

I'd like to make a special mention of the Zora here, who not only have Zelda (and all of her failures and inadequacies) in living memory, but are also xenophobic towards Hylians.

We see how they blame Link in BotW, after all. I think that they would feel similarly to Zelda, who is 'technically' more deserving of blame.

From a Zora-centric perspective, Zelda may as well have stolen Mipha from them, to make her take the fall for Zelda's failures. She literally set Mipha up to die, she sacrificed Mipha on the altar of her own survival, etc.

To elaborate: Princess Zelda personally requested Mipha, the beloved Crown Princess of the Zora, to become Champion. Despite Dorephan's hesitance, he allows it. Then, Zelda fails her, and Mipha dies in the Calamity that Zelda failed to prevent, but also that Zelda manages to survive.

Like... as harsh, cruel, and unfair as this is to poor Zelda... do you think that the Domain, which is STILL mourning Mipha a century later, would just... wave that away?

Now... how much Zelda is truly to blame for the Calamity is another matter, one that I will explore in a post hopefully shorter than this one. Suffice to say, I have many opinions, and some of the conclusions are perhaps unkind to her, which only further justifies my interpretations of Hyrule's blame, and Zelda's guilt and grief.

The point is that... Hyrule would see an easy target to dump their grief on. And I I don't believe they would just let it go.

Furthermore, Zelda has no political influence anymore. She can't force anyone to listen to her, or obey her commands, since all of that was destroyed in the Calamity. Moreover, with Zelda's reputation being that of colossal failure, I doubt that anyone in Hyrule would wish to submit to her, to give her the chance to fuck everything up again.

God. I feel really horrible typing all of this out, lol. And yet, I genuinely believe that this would be the reaction to her. So, if in the sequel, everything is being rebuilt and everyone is totally happy with Zelda, well...

I'm gonna be very upset. Because, in my opinion, if all of Hyrule just forgave Zelda's failures, and ignored their disastrous consequences, that would be extremely unrealistic.

As much as this headcanon hurts, and would hurt me to see, I'd be very vindicated by it, lol.

If anyone has any opinions, feel free to let me know.

Just please keep everything civil lol. This is only a random person on the internet's opinion.

#botw zelda #botw #post botw #botw2 #loz botw #loz breath of the wild

[dustjacketmusings]

The Intervention Scene: Pretty Much A Rant

I've seen a lot of really great discourse in the fandom around whether the intervention was controlling/abusive or necessary tough love. The thing is... Nesta absolutely needed an intervention. And this was an intervention. Feyre said approximately the right things at approximately the right time with approximately the right amount of structure for this to be successful. My problem is all of the approximates. It's really not clear why there was an intervention in the first place, and all of the actions following it undercut the message, or literally any message.

I charted them all out because this mess is living rent free in my brain. So here are the possible reasons why there could have been an intervention, and why the intervention itself or following actions made it fall so very flat for me.

Nesta is depressed. This is absolutely true. We see from Nesta's perspective that she is slowly killing herself. But following conversations with other characters make it clear that how Nesta sees herself is not how Cassian and other others see her. Do Feyre and Cassian know that Nesta is depressed? I honestly have no idea. And if that's the reason why they intervened... why did it take until Chapter 12 for anyone to ask how she was doing? Like - putting a depressed person in bootcamp and then never asking them how they feel, while systematically shutting down any time they want to vent is the worst idea I've ever heard. Even if Cassian is excused (maybe he didn't get the memo), Feyre could have checked up on her more. I wouldn't send my very depressed sister away without status updates more frequently than Feyre does. She also, pointedly, does not take Cassian aside to remind him to treat her sister with kindness. This is not even to say that the bootcamp aspect of this is extreme. If she is just depressed, why does she need to train so vigorously that she needs a strict diet? Exercise first -> battle formations later. The weird focus on training still makes no sense to me. I understand expecting training to help, but Cassian really does shut down any time she tries to talk about her feelings.

Nesta is alcoholic. This is pretty realistic and the structure of the intervention mimics this cause the closest. This looks like the intervention from the family of an addict. The problem is... Nesta has no problems with alcohol. She's fine after two days, never has a relapse, and suffers no ill effects. If that's the case, was she in danger of being an alcoholic in the first place? There also isn't really a plan for when she gets out of here. Eventually she'll be able to climb the stairs and even though she has no money, an addict will go to desperate measures to get alcohol. It's never brought up or addressed. The training aspect of bootcamp seems extra extreme for this scenario because... why would she need to train at all? It's just detoxing, really.

Nesta is not eating enough and arguably has an eating disorder. This one infuriates me after the breakfast scene. I cannot come up with words to explain how absolutely stupid it is to take someone with a suspected eating disorder and then control what they eat, while ignoring their requests for different food. Additionally... TRAINING. Why would you physically exhaust someone who's not eating? They'll just train and not eat and then they're worse off. And also this would be way better if anyone ever referenced THAT SHE WAS EATING. "Cassian... make sure she eats something" would have made Feyre so much more sympathetic. Ugh its just the worst! Because they notice that she's lost weight (while still fitting in her leathers perfectly, because that's possible), and then totally ignore her positive attempts to eat food.

Nesta is a sex addict. This is also argueable true. But I'm again unclear how training and mandatory service are supposed to help a sex addict other than keeping them busy. And, of course, she has a ton of sex with Cassian all the time. So if this is the issue, its incredibly problematic and never solved. They just stuck her in bootcamp while also feeding her addiction. There is literally no reason for the controlling aspects.

Nesta is spending too much of Feyre's money. Yeah this is true. Sorry Nesta but its absolutely within Feyre's right to cut her off. That being said... bootcamp? "You spent too much of my money so I'm going to control almost every aspect of your day and kick you out of your apartment" ??? I don't think I need to say how extreme of a response this is. This motivation would work really well if she was just doing library services. "You spent too much money without contributing so now you have to contribute at this library. Since you can't winnow or fly and everyone else has actual jobs (it's my headcannon that they have actual jobs and can't just taxi service) you need to live there too. Cassian will also be there because he lives there and to make sure you comply." Feyre could just say she's going to pay back her debt so she has to work at the library for XX time. OR the libary now funds her allowance (but that gives her way too much freedom). But training? We'll revisit in a few months? Revisit what?

Nesta is embarrassing Feyre as High Lady. This one is tricky, because on the one hand, fuck Feyre for this comment. On the other hand, Feyre is now an important public official and her sister does reflect on her. (Do not get me started on how Feyre not being able to "control" her sister implies shes unfit to be High Lady. The fact that she used the word "control" implies that she's unfit to be High Lady, not Nesta's behavior. You don't control your subjects but - ugh, I got started) Lets assume for a second that this is valid. If Nesta is embarrassing Feyre in public wouldn't the rational response to have someone... tell her what is appropriate behavior in public? Say, someone very good with presenting a public face... like Mor??? Who also conveniently has a few days off from being a politician????? Bootcamp to become a strong warrior is... not relevant? Wtf? Have they never met a warrior who is totally compentent on the battlefield and an epic embarrassment otherwise (that sounds kind of like Cassian tbh...). There is an arguement to be made that Nesta already knows how to do this (she's actually decent at politics) so her embarrassing Feyre must be on purpose. It's still a gross oversight to say "You're behaving incorrectly but I'm not going to tell you what was incorrect, go fix it". UNLESS:

They want to control Nesta. This one makes an UNCOMFORTABLE amount of sense. They didn't tell her what to fix. She's just going off and "they'll revisit in a few months" to check on her progress. See how moldable she is maybe? Controlling every aspect of her life in a place she can't escape on her own? check. BUT because this book makes no sense, they manage to fuck this up too. Why did they train at Windhaven?? Look, I'm not saying that anyone should control someone's life until they break down and become a shell of their former self, but if someone were to do that, it's in private. Arguably, Windhaven, where there was civil unrest less than a year ago, is full of people who ABSOLUTELY need to believe that Nesta is under the control of the IC (or at least on the same side). So why would they take her there on the first day, when she is most full of defiance? (They're idiots, moving on) Cassian's comments about how Nesta was embarrassing him in front of other people were hilariously a joke because he put them in front of other people to begin with. (Even if they didn't want to control her, why windhaven? Like... oh look there's the High Lady's sister who is an absolute weakling and garbage at throwing a punch. This reflects so well on the inner circle. what????)

The problem is that SJM took all of these reasons and put them in a blender to give some frankenstein motivation. In the end there was too much going on so she achieved none of it. It feels almost like a successful intervention, until you look a little closer, and then everything falls apart.

#anti acosf #acosf spoilers #nesta archeron #acosf #anti sjm

[overclockedroulette]

so here's that fic with avarice and vega i promised! ages ago! it also just so happens to be the first time they met :)

also! a reminder that the situation with chio was incredibly traumatic! he's fine with literally any other physical contact (a little starved for it, actually), but he won't let anyone touch his neck. totally nothing to do with having needles shoved into his neck repeatedly for several weeks to forcibly drug him into complacency.

it is such a surprise vega hasn't been killed in a lab 'accident' yet.

they are insufferable together, but at least vega is a half-decent role model. sort of. i mean. he's like 60% more mentally stable so that's gotta count for something. at least he Tries to fit into polite society.

~~~

When Fabrica had told him he would be working with another person, Avarice didn’t question it. A minor hindrance, sure, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He wouldn’t complain to a monarch - especially one with such a high level of influence such as Miss Fabrica Kiriatta (not to her face, anyway). He knew his etiquette. He could be civil.

“Hello,” a changeling (they weren’t normally this obvious, were they?) with long, pale hair outstretched their hand to him. “Avarice, right? From Aublilon? Is it true that they raise you workers from birth, there?”

Avarice raised an eyebrow. “Charming. It is. How about your name, darling?”

“Oh! My mistake. Vega Mochizuki. Polaris.”

“Polaris?” He put on a mock-interested voice. He couldn’t help himself. “Is it true you’re all trust-fund cowards spoonfed directly by the richest people alive?”

Pause. Neither of them broke eye contact.

“Well, aren’t you the feisty one?” Vega teased, “Definitely on your high horse for a trained dog.”

“Trained dog?” Avarice mused, still refusing to take his eyes off the changeling in front of him. “That’s an interesting way to say ‘naturally talented’. No need for jealousy, sweetheart.”

Vega let out a short laugh, incredulous. “Jealous? You were raised like a show animal, what is there to be jealous of?”

“Oh, just let me think…” he mocked, “Resolve, intelligence, talent, general superiority-”

“-lack of free will, non-existent social skills, ignorance of the outside world, probably some serious mental health issues,” Vega listed on his fingers, taking no small amount of satisfaction in the affronted noise that Avarice made when he mentioned that last one. “Do I need to go on?”

“Point taken, Pulsar lapdog.”

“Oh! So the circus lion’s a crackpot conspiracy theorist, too!”

“Oh, please.” Avarice rolled his eyes. “Spare me the theatrics, we all know where you get your ‘government funding’.”

“As if money laundering and tax evasion is any better?”

“Better than being another Pulsar lackey.”

Vega stepped forward, the smallest hint of frustration in his voice. “We aren’t with the Pulsars.”

Avarice just smirked and shrugged in response, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Of course not, dear. And I’d appreciate a little more respect, if you don’t mind. Drop the attitude.”

“Were you trained to talk like that? Speaking of which, if I told you to roll over, would you do it?”

“Prick,” Avarice hissed.

“Mutt.”

“Pig.”

“Bitch.”

“Insect.”

“Freak.”

“Pulsar sugar baby.”

“Aubilon showdog.”

“Fucking third-rate-”

“Am I interrupting something?” Both parties - who were now very much within a sword’s-length of each other - turned at Fabrica’s voice. “No, please, do continue. I thoroughly enjoyed hearing you both at each other’s throats.”

Vega coughed. “I apologise, ma’am. How long have you been here?”

“The whole time,” she smiled. “I don’t mind, but please keep personal affairs and grudges outside of work. You understand?”

They both nodded, albeit glaring the other down the whole time. Fabrica smiled, not believing it for a second. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

There were a few moments after she swept out of the door, as they both waited for her footsteps to become inaudible. Vega was the first to speak.

“I want to test something, if you don’t mind.”

“I mind,” he insisted, quite firmly. That didn’t stop Vega from turning on his heel to face him, an insufferable grin on his face, and pointing one finger in his direction.

“Sit.”

Avarice recognised a command spell being cast: he had quite the array of experience with the feeling - an impulse that wasn’t quite his shooting through his body, unexpected and unwanted, as uncontrollable as blinking or breathing. The recognition did not, however, stop him from collapsing into a cross-legged position the second the words left Vega’s lips, pain shooting through his legs as they hit the ground with force. He at least had the dignity not to cry out, especially since Vega’s laughing was starting to get on his nerves.

“Oh! So you are like a dog!”

“Piss off,” he muttered, starting to stand up. Vega cleared his throat.

“Ah-ah! Stay.”

He froze. He knew that was another spell, but yet again he found himself returning to his original position, unmoving and seething. Vega knelt down to his level, locking eyes with Avarice and smirking. “Who’s a good boy?”

“I will fucking kill you,” he spat.

“Oh yeah?” he hummed, placing a hand on his neck and rubbing a thumb across it playfully, not noticing the other scientist freeze up. “Reckon you’d suit a collar, psycho?”

Avarice’s breath hitched. He couldn’t respond. Normally, he’d bat his hand away before he could think too much about it, but he couldn’t move, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t move and all he could focus on was the hand on his neck and he felt like he was choking. This wasn’t Chio. This wasn’t the same situation. He shouldn’t be feeling like this right now; he shouldn’t feel like this at all, feeling like this was weak but he couldn’t move and there was a hand on his neck and fuck he felt so unbearably helpless. It hurt. It hurt, and he was helpless, and he couldn’t control it, he couldn’t control anything, and his chest stung and his head was all static and he didn’t know how long he’d been hyperventilating. He barely even knew where he was. This was weak. This was weak, and he’d pay for it. He’d pay for it like he had with Chio. His head hurt. Everything was static.

He barely registered Vega dispelling his magic, or the awkward attempted reassurances. He did, however, register the pressure on his neck transferring down to wrap clumsily around his torso, and he certainly felt himself collapse his whole weight forwards and rest his head in the ruffles of Vega’s shirt as he evened out his breathing. This was fine. This wasn’t Chio.

“Hey- hey, it’s- I mean, I- I didn’t mean to do that,” Vega finally settled on as Avarice came to his senses, after a few hastily stammered explanations that he half-hoped he was too far gone to hear. “You’re alright?”

There was a long pause. Avarice managed to push himself away from Vega as harshly as possible, getting to his feet albeit a little shakily. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mind telling me what I did to elicit that reaction?”

“Why?” The response was instant and defensive. Vega hadn’t meant it as an attack, but the reaction he was getting made it clear that Avarice had taken it as one. He explained as carefully as he could.

“So that I don’t cause it again. Obviously.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” he retorted, looking not unlike a cornered puppy. Vega sighed.

“I’m not going to hurt you, you paranoid fuck, just tell me why you freaked out.”

Avarice blinked slowly. Narrowed his eyes. Then let out a small sigh, and pointed to his neck, elaborating only with a hesitant “don’t.”

“Alright. That’s all I wanted to know,” he shrugged. “I’d ask why, but it could be anything with you Aubilon lot, so I’d probably rather not know.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re a prick. Mind doing me a favour?”

“I do mind, actually.”

“Cool,” he shrugged off, disregarding Vega’s response entirely in favour of taking a quarterstaff to the back of his knees and watching him collapse, letting out a surprised yelp. He knelt down to his level and smiled, taking out a vial of who-knows-what from his pocket and holding it out to him without once breaking eye contact. “Oh, and you didn’t think I’d let you get away with disrespecting me like that, did you, sweetheart? We have some testing to do.”

Vega averted his eyes nervously, taking the vial with hands that were much less stable than he thought they were. “I’m- I’m not drinking this.”

Avarice leant in, still smiling. “Oh, but you are. Don’t worry, though, it’s perfectly safe. Or, at least, it won’t kill you. I hope.”

“You can’t make me-”

“Can’t I?” he hummed, in a tone that suggested that he absolutely could. “Would you like to take your chances?”

A pause. Then Vega shuddered, said a prayer, and downed the vial.

#IT'S ABOUT THE RAPIDLY SHIFTING POWER DYNAMIC #they're so insufferable (affectionate) #vega can be insensitive but hey. he isn't as bad as avarice. he's trying. #tw panic attack #if i need to tag anything else lmk #oc whump #whump #hurt/comfort #everything i write turns into angst #help #avarice kiriatta #vega mochizuki

[palmett-hoes]

Hi, I really loved your post with the monsters as Birds of Prey! Was wondering if you had any thoughts on the Foxes as Marvel or Mcu characters? I feel like I could see Dan as Carol Danvers and Andrew for sure is Jessica Jones, idk about the rest.

oh wow old post!!

haha unfortunately i’m not really a comics person so i don’t feel like i can really give the best analysis possible, but i have seen most of the mcu movies and bits and pieces of the netflix show so i’ll try my best. also im using dc characters too bc i want to

1. Dan: I think your instinct with Dan as Captain Marvel is spot-on (at least uhhh,, based on the movie lol sorry comics ppl). Her direct, forceful powers and fighting style are definitely reminiscent of dan’s no-nonsense leadership approach. similarly the themes of overcoming sexism and acceling in a male-dominated industry in the captain marvel movie is pretty much the same as dan’s story establishing herself as the first female exy captain (tho sports is way more valid than the military). plus there’s a lot of emphasis on love and friendship between women that dan is ALL about. also lashana lynch would be a god tier dan wilds fc. Dan could also def have that lawful good Okoye from Black Panther energy. Loyal, disciplined, no-nonsense leader. no powers except discipline. no hair. also danai gurira in 2012 with the dreads and the sword and the cape on TWD was definitely part of my middle school sexual awakening

2. Kevin: Aquaman. this is based pretty much exclusively on the fact that jason momoa is my #1 kevin fc and also that Pasifika kevin is phenomenal and mandatory, actually. otherwise i think he has a decent amount of stick-up-the-ass cyclops energy. or dick grayson nightwing energy but i don’t have any evidence for why. kinda looks like him tho

3. Andrew: andrew gets the most characters bc he’s my favorite. i think ur jessica jones instincts are absolutely correct, both in her storyline (i only watched the first season) and her powers. i’ve seen some powers au and the tendency seems to be giving andrew like,, psychic powers or the like, and i don’t really agree. andrew is a very direct character. he’s pragmatic, he confronts problems head on, and he doesn’t muck about in details. to me this really translates best into physical powers like super strength that help u big punch straight thru all ur problems. also i def think andrew would be not just a solo hero but a mercenary (or a detective) because he’s not altruistic enough to be a standard vigilante. he doesn’t care enough about other people to hang out on rooftops all night waiting for Crime to occur. there’s a price for that.  which brings us to the NEXT andrew hero: deadpool. maybe in personality more of a drugged andrew but the superpowered mercenary is really a perfect fit for andrew. also, healing powers have a decidedly tragic poetry to them on andrew. already he’s self-destructive, if he had a healing factor his concern for his own well-being would be so beyond rock bottom it’d be in the earth’s core. even worse when you remember that with a healing factor, as opposed to indestructibility, you still feel all the pain. which brings us to Wolverine and X-23, who have the same thematic points as deadpool but are much more of a personality match and they have knife hands, which i really think andrew would appreciate. ending that sadness train and onto another tho, andrew’s aesthetic and Vibes fit the Winter Soldier just SO well (just that movie tho, not really civil war or anything past that) and a reinterpretation of the captain america story using the twinyards would be incredibly interesting. and finally, one last hero that would work really well for andrew: rogue, only remove the angst around not being able to touch people, andrew would love that. one touch and their comatose? baller. don't fucking touch him.

4. Matt: Shazam. I didn’t see the shazam movie but my dad and brother did and they said it was very funny and all the trailors looked like it had a lot of fun himbo energy and i really think that fits. in terms of matching himbo disaster energy i think i’ve heard good things about comics hawkeye (not mcu). thor?

5. Aaron: Mr. Fantastic. now this might be a stretch but aaron is a character who uses a skin-deep veneer of anger to cover the fact that he’s actually quite pliant and bends to other people’s wills. and he’s a doctor or w/e. he could alse be like,, antman. he’s smart right? hank pym not paul rudd. katelyn can be wasp

6. Seth: Arm Fall Off Boy. no i will not elaborate.             ..... ugh fine, but i'm using my favorite piece of superhero media of all time: x-men evolution, the one where they're all teenagers in public high school. seth can be lance alvers/avalanche who’s a bit of a jerk and has a lot of issues with authority and has a rivalry with cyclops very reminiscent of seth with kevin, but still there’s the recurring theme that he’s lashing out because of low self-esteem and a bad situation and he’s a surprisingly sympathetic character who i’m very fond of. his power is earthquakes but i think the name makes that pretty self-explanatory

7. Allison: Iron Man. cocky, bitchy, and rich rich rich. sounds like allison to me. then to elevate it a level higher: emma frost, rich bitch extraordinaire. also if allison had telepathic powers she would be unstoppable. plus one more bitchy, morally-gray blonde (but chaotic this time): Harley Quinn

8. Nicky: Okay so I do wanna give a quick shout-out to Northstar, the first openly gay comicbook superhero, who’s a speedster which I’d actually say fits Nicky pretty well. However, if i had to choose a superhero to represent nicky in presence and powers it would have to be Jubilee from x-men (... from what i’ve heard lol. i’ve never actually consumed any of her Media hahaha anyway) she’s a joyful, energetic presence and her powers are setting off fireworks which i think is a good balance of nicky being a supportive cousin-parent AND a chaotic train wreck garbage trash man. also gonna throw in johnny storm for a cheap 'flaming' joke

9. Renee: Thunder/Blackbird from Black Lightning bc she’s a fufkin lesbian lol. (i don’t watch the show but i do follow nafessa williams’s tag). now the fr ones i’m gonna do together because to me they have the same Vibes so i chose them for the same reasons. Wonder Woman and Storm who to me have the same  reserved, impartial, regal energy. honestly ethereal and somewhat otherwordly, and quite literally goddesses. also op as hell.  black widow and her “red in my leger” looking for redemption story also fits thematically.

10. Neil: okay lazy answer first: the flash or quicksilver. get it? because they run fast? and neil run too? yea i like to think i've proven myself to be better than such a surface level interpretation but worth the mention ig. so for srs now, mystique and her shape changing powers would be an interesting interpretation of neil's identity issues, but i wanna push it a step further. nightcrawler would actually be possibly the MOST interesting hero to apply to neil 1. because powers still very movement go fast place to place 2. because of the thematic focus on neil's unusual looks and the lengths he goes to hide them, very much in line with the way nightcrawler will use a hologram-projector in order to look human, yet in both cases it's only a surface-level illusion, and 3. his parentage. here, mary would be mystique, which i also think works very well considering mary seemed to be the far more effective chameleon on the run than neil, and also fits with her place as a morally grey character, as mystique herself is often a villain or an antagonist, with her own agenda and shadowy motives. then nathan matches well with nightcrawler's father: azazel, a literal demon, and also where kurt gets his appearance. it's a shockingly coherent narrative between the three of them. then, to also give neil some powers that aren't contingent on his fucked up geneology and rather on his own merit and abilities, Black Canary and her sonic voice parallel the way that neil began to anchor his identity and take ownership over himself through his voice and his sick roasts

and 1 extra, wymack: batman, on account of his altruism, his dedication to second chances, and his many, many adopted children

---

anon, ik it's been a sec since you sent this, so i hope it gets back to you. i had a fun time with it and it prompted like,,, 7 different au s that i'll never write

#Anonymous #txt #the foxes #im talkin #my posts